Felicia Carlisle, long-legged socialite and future trophy wife with no respect for female boxers

Felicia Carlisle was a busty blonde socialite, with a passion for fashion. She was famously single, famous rich, famously beautiful, and constantly on the search for a good husband. For the past six months she'd been walking the boxing gym grounds, sitting at ringside as the men sparred and fought, clapping along happily whenever either side landed a solid punch. The men loved her. She was often the cause for them to fight and train harder, and on several occasions she'd made off with a man after an impressive showing to take them back to her bed.

Of course, it wasn't all roses. Ever since she'd arrived, there had been many more knockouts outside of actual matches, as men took out their sparring partners to impress her. She was more interested in the action and couldn't tell the difference between a pro fight and an amateur sparring match, so such a delicious ending always excited her and made her clap for the winner. All the same, the men all loved her, and those that weren't good enough to impress her blamed nobody but themselves. Only one person didn't love her - the same person who actively hated her guts. It was the gym's sole female boxer, Taylor.

Before Felicia started frequenting the gym, all the male boxers were like Taylor's family. Close, supportive brothers. And while they still all treated her fondly, like their beloved younger sister, she didn't like how hard they fought each other to win this socialite bitch's approval.

Taylor trained hard, harder than anyone at the gym, to become among the first female pro boxers in the USA. Being the only female boxer in the gym, she had to train against men, and she quite often held her own. Whenever she fought a match against some other gym's women, she won, and she won decisively. Her fellow gym teammates had given her the moniker of "The KO Queen" thanks to her frequent method of victory. Taylor's entire life had been dedicated to the sport since childhood - and it was silver-spooned bitches like Felicia Carlisle that made it harder for all of the women just starting the enter the boxing world.

She hated her. Hated her fake, melodic laugh. Her enthusiastic applause. Her decadent lifestyle, her perfect hair, her incredible breasts, the red-and-black corset she always wore that was just a little too tight on her bulky boobs and exposed so much cleavage. She represented everything that Taylor never had. And worst of all was that Felicia didn't even care. In fact, she was so busy only ever looking for her next lay among the men, Taylor wasn't sure if Felicia even knew that she existed.

She hated the arrogance. The wealth. The superior demeanor. The men either couldn't see or didn't care how she acted like they were inferior to her just because of her wealthy status. That she saw coming her and sleeping with them almost as an act of generosity, of philanthropy, that her fellow socialites were too selfish to consider. The last straw came when Taylor was preparing for a sparring match against one of the boys one day, with Felicia watching in her special chair set up at ringside after a few other men's matches.

Felicia yawned as Taylor stepped into the ring. "Sit down, girl. I want to see the men fight," she said dismissively.

Taylor was so insulted. On the spot, she challenged the cocky blonde to step in and face her herself if she was so adamant that a woman like Taylor had no skill as a boxer. She'd only meant to shut the bitch up, but to her surprise, Felicia shrugged and stood up, approaching the ring.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "I've seen enough boxing to know how to knock you out."

Taylor turned bright red. The man she was supposed to be sparring took the hint and stepped out of the ring, as a small crowd gathered, tentatively trying to stop this situation from blowing up and stop Felicia from getting seriously hurt without damaging their chances with her. Taylor could tell by the bored, sure-of-herself look in Felicia's eye that she really meant it. She really thought she could knock Taylor out without any trouble. Taylor knew that people without any fighting experience often overestimated themselves, but to be so cocky just because Taylor was a girl... that really was too much.

"You're going to knock me out?!!" Taylor exploded. "I'm the KO Queen, bitch! Someone get her some gloves, let's see what she's got!"

Felicia yawned with boredom again as an unsure man nervously pulled his gloves off and handed them over to the busty blonde. Untrained as she was, the crowd knew there'd be no stopping this from happening now without seriously stepping on both ladies' toes, so they all just prepared to jump in and stop the fight at the soonest opportunity.

"Thanks sweetie~" Felicia winked as the man put the gloves on her hands for her.

"Don't stop this fight for anything!" Taylor ordered, body heating up in preparation to finally let out some anger on the wealthy bitch. Her fellow boxers timidly agreed, though they all understood that if it looked like Felicia was getting seriously hurt, they'd be stopping it anyway. "And if I win, you have to stop showing up to my gym and sleeping with the men!"

"Whatever you say, darling." Felicia clearly felt no threat from the supposed KO Queen. "And when I knock you out, you have to have your little playfight fantasies on your own time, not when the men are using the floor."

She had no idea the situation she'd gotten herself into by accepting Taylor, the KO Queen's challenge. Let alone how she compounded that danger by angering Taylor further. But then again... rage can be quite blinding, and with a puncher's chance, there was always a universe where the cocky socialite's arrogant prediction somehow came true...