Gym Class Boxing

 New story: Gym Class Boxing - Battle of the Sexes, by hoopdescoop. 03-30-2020

“You win,” he squeaked meekly, his voice several octaves higher and weaker than the tough growling bravado he had touted just a few minutes before.

Her knee was still buried deeply in his groin. She had pistoned it up between his legs with blinding force, eliciting a solid, resounding crunch as it smashed his most tender organs against his pelvis. The crowd let out a long sympathetic “Oooooooohhhhhh” as the blow struck home. Brad squealed, his cry ululating like a tea kettle. He had actually heard the crunch. So had she.

“Huh, I thought that only happened in movies,” Lindsay said to him. She smiled into his eyes, which had begun to cross and fill with tears.

Excited titters swept through the crowd of students watching the fight: “Holy shit, I actually heard them!” “That has gotta hurt!” “I felt that one and I don’t even have balls!” Neither does Brad anymore!”

"Foul!" Cried Mark, Brad's toadie and assistant captain of the school's boxing club. "She hit below the belt!"

Lindsay, whose knee was still planted firmly between Brad's legs, scoffed. Brad, meanwhile, let out another high-pitched whine and collapsed, his torso draped around Lindsay's pretty thigh.

"That rule only applies to boy's boxing!" Lindsay protested. "This is a battle of the sexes. To see who's stronger: boys or girls."

"But that's not fair!" Mark whined. Lindsay noticed that the other boy's knees were also turned inward, as if in sympathy pains for the scrambled eggs of his captain.

"It seems fair to me," said Ms. Buckley. The pretty, young P.E. teacher stood ringside, watching the fight. It had been rather one-sided thus far, with Lindsay lacing the male fighter with three consecutive punches and following it up with that devastating knee. The crunch had been music to her ears, topped only by the arrogant boy's soprano submission. Guess he's rethinking who the tougher sex is now.

"Like Lindsay said," continued Ms. Buckley, "this was a contest to see who was stronger, boys or girls. Brad seemed quite confident a minute ago that boys were superior, so it only seems fair that blows to areas exclusive to one gender be allowed. What do you think Brad?"

The boy only let out a long, squealing EEEEEEEEE in response, Lindsay's feminine knee still mashing his tender nuts mercilessly into his pelvis.

"Oopsies," said Lindsay, smiling coyly. "Looks like Brad is having trouble answering. Coach asked you a question, State Champ," she teased, lowering her leg slightly. Brad gasped and another wince came from the audience as their prized fighter, who had so confidently boasted "Girls can't box!" just moments before, came down off his tiptoes. Lindsay swiftly grabbed a handful of the boy's hair before he could collapse to the canvas.

"So, Brad, would you say that my strike was effective?" asked Lindsay, smiling as she turned the boy to face the crowd of his classmates. He dangled from her grasp, his knees just barely off the canvas and his hands doing their best to cup his aching plums through his boxing gloves. He had never been hit so hard, in all his years of boxing. In fact, he’d never been put on the mat by an opponent. He was undefeated and the state boxing champ, but Lindsay, the petite gymnastics star, now had him clutching his most delicate appendages and squealing like a little girl. In front of half the senior class!

A sea of blushing female faces looked on as he swung by his hair from Linday’s grasp, alongside a collection of wincing boys, uneasy about the humiliation and emasculation of their one-time hero at the hands (and knees) of the beautiful young lady now propping him up like a marionette.

"I asked you a question, Brad!" Lindsay repeated, yanking his hair. The champion boxer yelped pathetically. “Did my knee hurt?”

Brad nodded urgently. Giggles spread across the audience from the onlooking girls.

“But you said I was too weak to box, remember? Because I’m a girl. Our bodies are too weak. Remember?” Lindsay twisted the boy’s hair, loving the groans and squeaks she elicited. Ms. Buckley hid her giggling face behind her clipboard, but Lindsay caught sight of the coach’s reaction and received a newfound boost of confidence.

“It seems like the pain you’re in is something unique to boys, no?” Lindsay cooed.

“Please,” Brad sobbed. “You win. I give. I give!” This brought about a cheer from the girls in the crowd and a dejected sigh from the boys.

“Oh, come on, man!” Mark roared. “She’s just a girl! Kick her ass!”

“Just a girl?” Lindsay fumed, yanking Brad onto his tiptoes once more. The boy screamed and whined.

From ringside, Ms. Buckley rang the bell. She flashed Lindsay a quick smile and a wink. “I think that’s the end of round one. Lindsay 1, Brad 0.”

“Round one?!” Brad asked in a bout of panic.

“Well, yes, you submitted. That’s one-nothing girls. We’re going to three, just like you wanted,” said Ms. Buckley with a mischievous grin. She couldn’t wait to see Lindsay land a few more nut-splitting blows on this cocky jerk.

“But I give up!” Brad pleaded. “She wins!”

“Exactly. Lindsay wins this round,” Ms. Buckey responded. “Decisively, I’d say.” The girls laughed again. “But you were adamant on three rounds, remember? Lindsay only wanted one, but you said you wanted to ‘really work her over’ and, what was it? Oh yes, ‘put the bitch in her place.’” She smiled her cruelest smile into the boy’s tearful eyes. “Thirty seconds to recover and then it’s round two. Oh, and so we’re all clear,” she looked deep into Brad’s eyes, “no blows are illegal.” All the color drained from the boy’s face and he began to whimper.

“Yes!” Lindsay exclaimed, letting go of Brad’s hair. The boy slammed, face-first, into the canvas, his gloved hands still wrapped firmly around his groin as he lay sniveled into the mat. “See you in thirty, State Champ. We’re gonna really hit some high notes in the next round,” Lindsay said, leaning down over her prostrate opponent. She then bounced off to her corner, all smiles, her pert breasts jiggling in her pink sports bra.

“Get up, Brad, you’re embarrassing us!” Mark seethed through the ropes. Brad didn’t lift his face from the canvas. “She’s a girl! A girl!! And she’s kicking your ass. It’s humiliating.”

Other boys now joined in, attempting to rally their champion. “Yeah, kick her ass, Brad! You’re the state champ!”

“You’ve never lost a fight!”

Somehow, Brad managed to get his knees beneath him. Slowly, he found his feet. His balls still throbbed, but the acute pain was now abating.

“Kick her fucking ass,” Mark told him. Brad slammed his gloved fists together.

They were right. She’s just a girl. He was going to smash her pretty face to dust.

Ding! Ding!

Ms. Buckley rang the bell and round two was underway (much sooner than Brad could have anticipated). Lindsay bounced lightly on the balls of her feet as she approached him at center ring from her corner.

Round two. Who's going to win? It's anyone's guess ;)

“Oh, goodie! You got back up! I was afraid this wasn’t going to be much of a fight,” Lindsay mocked. “That would really be embarrassing, if the school’s boxing champ couldn’t even land a punch against a weak, little girl.”

“You got your free cheap shot, bitch,” Brad snarled, feeling a bit of his old machismo kicking back in as the pain in his balls dulled. “Now you’re going to learn why girls shouldn’t get in the ring with men.”

Roaring, the boy swung a mighty haymaker at Lindsay’s beautiful, smiling face. Easily, the graceful girl ducked beneath the gloved fist of her male opponent, stepped forward and smashed her own glove into the state champ’s shirtless stomach, just as he was throwing all his weight into his punch. A meaty smack rang out as Lindsay’s jab struck home, followed by a long huuuuuu as all the air exited Brad’s lungs in a breathy gust.

“Ouch,” Ms. Buckley chirped in from ringside. “That looked like it hurt.”

Gasping, Brad collapsed to his knees, one hand clutching his stomach while the other held him up from the canvas.

“Oh, come on, champ. You’re down again?” Lindsay purred. “You haven’t even hit me yet. Maybe we should keep score of our hits? That’d be fun! I think it’s 3-0.”

“4-0, actually,” offered Ms. Buckley.

Lindsay giggled. “Ouch, worse than I thought!”

“You...bitch…,” Brad gasped from his knees.

“Get up! She’s dominating you,” Mark screamed from outside the ring. “Smash her!”

Slowly, Brad regained his stance. Lindsay eyed him, grinning confidently. “I’ll wait,” she said. Furious, but still hurting, Brad brought up his gloves. “Ready? Maybe you’ll do better this time!”

“I’m going to kick your ass, you little —,” Brad began, before being cut off by Lindsay’s glove flashing out and blasting into his unprotected eye.

“5-0,” said the girl, matter-of-factly, as the boy’s head snapped back.

Irate and determined to show the superiority of his gender, Brad hollered and threw another wild punch at his female opponent. Lithely, the blonde fatale slipped his strike yet again, planted her foot firmly into the mat and brought a devastating kick into the boy’s side. Even before Brad could fold over, Lindsay stepped forward, placed a gloved hand on each of the boy’s broad shoulders and then brought her forehead crashing into his nose.

Another long, sympathetic oooooooooohhh came from the crowd as Brad shrieked and clutched his bloody face.

“Foul!” Mark cried, his voice nearly as high as Brad’s had been when Lindsay had smashed his nuts to end the last round. “You can’t headbutt in boxing!”

Ms. Buckley waved off the boy’s protests. “No blows are illegal, remember?” she said. “Besides, Lindsay is ‘just a girl’, after all.”

In the ring, Brad was whimpering behind his gloves. “Oh, God,” he murmured. “My nose!” The boy was clutching his face with his gloves, legs spread wide as he tried to balance himself. Lindsay, seeing the opportunity presented her, sauntered towards her unaware opponent.

There was a collective intake of breath from the crowd, which, seeing Brad standing with his legs so invitingly spread and the already-battered contents of his lycra shorts so prominently displayed between them, leaned forward in anticipation of yet another nut-shattering strike to the state champ’s prized possessions.

“Oh no…,” Mark sighed, almost queasy at the thought of what was about to become of his captain’s privates.

Lindsay stepped forward, planted her lead foot, raised her back leg as high as only a varsity gymnast could, then swung it forward with ludicrous speed to bury the tip of sneaker between Brad’s spread legs.

CAAAAA-RUUUUUUUNCHHHHH

She couldn’t have aimed better, as her shoe smashed both of Brad’s plums to the point of compression. The sound was shocking, like two walnuts being crushed by a mallet. The entire crowd winced and even Ms. Buckley felt her knees turning inward at the sight of such a perfectly delivered kick to the testicles.

Instantly, Brad’s hands dropped from his face. Lindsay couldn’t have thanked him enough for that, as it exposed the boy’s expression, which was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen. She had really connected, she knew that just from the feel of his soft balls yielding against her toes, but his face told the tale of his torment even better.

Brad’s eyes had gone comically crossed, tears welling up in them like pools. His mouth, meanwhile, was open in a perfect O and, almost unheard because of its extreme high pitch, a long, keening wail escaped it.

“8-0,” Lindsay laughed, drawing back her leg.

Almost in slow motion, and still emitting a dog whistle’s cry, Brad sank to his knees then fell forward onto his face, his bloody nose smacking into the mat. His butt, meanwhile, remained in the air, giving his crumpled body an even more pathetic appearance as he hugged the canvas, an undefeated state boxing champ put to the mat for the second time in two rounds by a petite girl in a pink sports bra and spandex shorts.

Ding!

“I think this round goes to Lindsay. What do you think, class?” Ms. Buckley said, turning to the group of students crowding the bleachers that overlooked the gym’s boxing ring. The young teacher felt a pleasant dampness between her legs and was happy to see the girls in the crowd looking equally flushed by the definitive female domination they were witnessing. The boys, however, all looked stunned, their knees clutched together and their hands clutching their own balls in sympathy. Most looked wan, as if they were going to pass out just from imagining the pain Brad must certainly be in at the moment.

“Well?” Ms. Buckley repeated. “Who won that round?”

“That was more than just a win, Ms. B,” one of the girls responded, breathless and flushed as if she had just experienced an orgasm of her own. “That was absolute domination.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get their ass kicked that hard,” said another.

“I...I can feel it,” a boy said, queasily. “My God.”

“Ah, thanks, everyone,” Lindsay shouted from the ring. “I’m just glad Brad got to show me why girls shouldn’t get in the ring with men. Thanks, champ,” she added, nudging the boy in the ribs with her shoe. Brad responded with two sharp, soprano tones that could’ve been “My balls,” but the boy’s voice was so strained and pitched it was nearly impossible to tell.

“2-0 girls, then,” Ms. Buckley said, ringing the bell again and marking her clipboard with a check. “30 seconds til the next round.”

Alec Anaconda, A1

03-31-2020, 12:11 PM

This is a work in progress. Feel free to guess who's going to end up winning the match ;)

“See ya soon, champ,” giggled Lindsay as she strolled casually back to her corner, swinging her hips in a blatant display of femininity. “Maybe you’ll land a punch next round.”

Unable to accept that his captain could be so thoroughly dominated by a female fighter, Mark pounded his fists against the mat in an attempt to once more rally his champion. “Get up, Brad,” he hollered. “You haven’t even hit her yet! You can’t lose to a girl at boxing!”

Mark couldn’t believe it, even after watching Lindsay manhandle the boxing champ for two straight rounds. Brad was the best boxer in the state. He had more than 17 knockouts and Mark had actually seen opponents from other schools refuse to get in the ring with the champ, afraid of the licking they’d get. But now, in less than two minutes of action in the ring, this … girl … had reduced the undefeated champ to a whimpering, crumpled sack bleeding into the canvas.

She had also landed the most brutal blows Mark had ever seen, all to the most sensitive of areas. He could still hear the crunch of Brad’s nuts being splintered by Lindsay’s kick. In those tight athletic shorts, there was nowhere to hide and Mark had seen everything … and Lindsay had really, really, really nailed them.

Mark groaned and clutched his own balls. He heard Ms. Buckley giggling and noticed the sexy young gym teacher had seen him curl over his privates. “Oooooh,” she mouthed, squinching her eyes and pursing her pouty lips in a mockery of male pain.

Ding. Ding.

She rang the bell, signaling the start of round three. From within the ring, Brad let out a weak, high-pitched sob from the mat. Lindsay, meanwhile, bounced into center ring. When she reached the crumpled male fighter she nudged him teasingly with her foot.

“Ready for round three, champ?”

Brad’s only response was another soft whimper.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to box some more? I thought you were good at this.” She nudged him again. The once-proud male champion clutched his groin even harder and squeaked a few indiscernible protests. Bending at the waist, Lindsay grabbed hold of Brad's hair once again and, none too gently, yanked his face from off the mat.

"Eeeep," squealed Brad as his female opponent pulled him onto his knees. His body hung limply from her grasp, but his hands remained tightly clasped around his balls. They had filled back into his tight shorts, stretching the lycra fabric tightly around them as they swelled beneath his gloves. The pain was still so intense he didn't think he could stand under his own power.

Dangling from Lindsay's grasp, Brad saw a sea of onlookers in the crowd, girls openly tittering at his pathetic state while the boys looked on with uneasy astonishment. Lindsay, standing above him, smiled at their reactions.

The girls were flushed with sexual excitement, eagerly awaiting another round of watching Lindsay beat Brad across the ring. The boys, meanwhile, were also rapt by the action and Lindsay noticed more than a few of them clumsily concealing erections as they witnessed their star athlete getting his nuts caved in by a lithe young female.

One thing was clear, regardless of gender: They wanted a knockout.

"Please," Brad begged. Lindsay couldn't help but be pleased that his voice was still several octaves higher than normal. "I give up. You win."

"Is that a submission?" Lindsay asked innocently. "I thought boxing matches only ended in knockouts."

"Yes!" Lindsay heard a few girls in the crowd say at once. "It has to be a knockout!" One cried out breathlessly.

Brad groaned in her grasp, so Lindsay gave his hair a sharp yank. "Oh, hush, you," she chided. "I'll get to you in a minute." With that she marched the prized fighter to the ropes, dragging him roughly across the ring as he sobbed pathetically in her grasp, then draped him over the middle rope so he faced Ms. Buckley and the crowd of on looking students.

"What do you say, Coach?" Lindsay inquired of the buxom teacher. "I think we're both up for another round to end this bout the proper way." Brad began to protest, but Lindsay silenced him by pushing down harshly on his head, ******* the rope deep into the male fighter's throat. He thrashed and gagged in her grasp, causing the girls in the crowd to stir in excitement.

"Well, I think it's only appropriate that a true battle of the sexes ends with only one gender left standing," Ms. Buckley answered. She was excited herself at the sight of the blonde boxer so easily dominating the much larger male. "But maybe we should vote on it. Class? Do you want to see another round?"

"Oh God yes," one of the girls blurted out immediately. Her cheeks were flushed and one of her hands was buried deep between her legs as she watched Brad struggling against the ropes in Lindsay's hand. "Please let her finish him."

"Yes! Yes!" A chorus of girls chimed in. "They agreed to three rounds and he can't just get off that easy!"

"Well, that's the female vote," said Ms. Buckley. "Boys?"

The male contingent of the audience exchanged worried glances as their female counterparts shot them icy looks. Even if they hadn't secretly wanted to watch Lindsay finish off their champion, they were too afraid of what would happen to their own prize jewels if they went against the female vote.

"Pleeeeease," Brad choked out. "Throw the towel!"

"May-maybe he can still win," Mark said meekly. Brad couldn't believe it. He looked at his assistant captain with wide, pleading eyes.

"Great!" said Ms. Buckley, seemingly satisfied with this exercise in democracy. "Let's see!"

Ding!

She rang the bell again. "Round Three! Lindsay leads 2-0. Box!"

A great cheer went up from the crowd (one half of it at least) that drowned out Brad's sobs. Lindsay, elated, shoved Brad once more into the ropes and hopped back, raising her fists before her face as she bounced on her feet.

Brad, however, simply sprawled at her feet, face up, and splayed his limbs. "Count me out!" He rasped. "She wins by knockout."

A feminine chorus of boos filled the gym. "That's not fair!" Lindsay scoffed.

"Those are the rules," Mark stated, unable to hide his shame at his captain's cowardice.

Furious, Lindsay turned to Ms. Buckley. The coach gave the young fighter a sympathetic, disappointed look. "I'm afraid he's right," she said before beginning her count. "One...two...three…"

Lindsay stomped her foot in aggravation as Brad smiled to himself on the canvas, knowing he had at least escaped more torment.

The crowd was now openly jeering and booing as Ms. Buckley approached the midpoint of her count.

"...Five...Six...Oh!" She said suddenly. "Just a reminder on the rules," she flashed a quick, sadistic look at Brad, whose arrogant smile curdled. "All blows are legal."

Confusion washed over Brad's face, but Ms. Buckley was happy to see Lindsay had picked up on her hint. The female fighter hopped giddily in place and then strode over the downed form of her male opponent.

"Seven…," Ms. Buckley counted from ringside.

"Almost ran out of time, champ" Lindsay said with a wicked grin. She stood between the boy's spread legs, hands on her hips. He looked up at her, more confused than nervous.

"...Eight…"

"Can't let your undefeated streak end like that," Lindsay said, locking eyes with Brad. She raised her leg, drawing her knee to breast.

"...Nine…"

"Let's get you back up before the ten count," Lindsay whispered and, just as Brad realized the position he was in, she pistoned her foot downward into the mound between his legs with a solid, echoing CRUNCH. Brad screeched as the girl's sneaker ground his nuts into his groin. The champion boxer flopped upright into a seated position as her blow struck. His face smashed into her tan, flat stomach and he squealed a single, strained note that had the crowd covering their ears.

The gym was otherwise silent but for Brad's cry, which filled the air for what felt like minutes before eventually fading out with a few halting, shrill whimpers.

"I guess girls can box, huh, champ?" Lindsay purred into her defeated opponent's ear. Brad was beyond understanding, his eyes glazed and glassy, teetering on the edge of passing out. Lindsay grabbed the male boxer's chin gently and tilted his face up towards hers. Coyly, she blew him a kiss and, with a quick, firm twist of her ankle, mashed his crushed nuts even further into his pelvis with a grinding, cracking sound. Brad squealed once more, went rigid and then collapsed onto his back, knocked out cold for the first time in his boxing career at the feet of a sexy blonde female.

"...10," counted Ms. Buckley.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

She rang the bell, signalling the end of the match and now the crowd erupted into applause. Lindsay turned to face them and gave a cute little curtsy.

"Well, class, I think we've learned an important lesson today," Ms. Buckley said.

"Yeah," one of the girls in the stands answered, flushed and panting. "Boys really shouldn't get in the ring with girls."

Lindsay laughed along with the rest of the girls in the gym. Behind her, spreadeagle on the canvas, Brad twitched unconsciously.