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Beauty in All Things by Dradis

Erica Ellis was a foxy boxer blessed with an extraordinary gift – she possessed a rare and magnificent beauty, one that was enhanced by and reached its full apex in the face of defeat. It was not an attribute that the gorgeous young blonde had ever desired or asked for, nor was it one that she had even previously known that she’d possessed. However, the full potential of her beauty was being realized in the ring for the first time that night, whether she wanted it to or not; she’d long since lost any say in the matter.

It was the fifth round – less than a minute had passed since ringing of the bell. Despite this, Erica already found herself knocked down to the canvas, stretched on her right side parallel to the ropes. Moaning softly, the blonde didn’t have her bearings. Everything was spinning – her world was a combination of a blurry haze before her eyes and a dull roar in her ears. The canvas felt unusually soft beneath the hot ring lights – their glow was harsh and unyielding, yet at the same time they beat down on her sweat-soaked and battered body far less mercilessly than Erica’s opponent had with her fists. It was almost as if the ambiance was tempting her to just lay there and go to sleep.

“TWO!”

Erica lifted her head up off the mat and propped herself up on her forearms as she heard the woman’s voice. In her groggy, half-awake state she had barely managed to distinguish the single sound above the cacophony of screams and shouts coming from out in the crowd. It took her a moment longer to realize that the voice belonged to the referee – Erica was being counted out.

“THREE!”

The blonde hadn’t even seen the punch that had dropped her. Pushing herself up to all fours, she reached for the ropes and pulled herself up to her knees, hanging onto them for support. A faint glimmer of recognition hit her as she stared out into the crowd – maybe she was imagining it, but the spectators in the attendance seemed to have been driven into a wild frenzy by the knockdown. Were they applauding her valiant attempt to continue or were they reveling in her tragic demise?

“SEVEN!”

Summoning her strength, Erica pulled hard and forced herself up to her feet. It took a great deal of willpower to overcome the achy sensations in her tired muscles and her legs almost gave out again. She was shabby after from the punishment she’d taken thus far and clearly shaken by the knockdown. Stumbling as she turned back to face the center of the ring, she raised her hands as high as she could – the referee, a lovely Hispanic woman in her early 30s, clasped Erica’s gloves and wiped them off on her shirt. Through half-lidded eyes Erica caught a look of concern on her face, but no words needed be spoken – she wasn’t going to stop the fight. There would be no stopping it at all – the rounds would go on and on, grinding and wearing the blonde down until she was knocked out and was lying unconscious on the canvas.

As the signal to continue fighting was given, Erica couldn’t help but feel that things had gone terribly wrong tonight – she was losing, and everyone was gleefully enjoying the spectacle it was providing. It was a painful and heartbreaking truth.

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It hadn’t been like this at the start. After all, Erica’s career had been on a meteoric rise. Her looks alone would have been enough to assure her place as a fan favorite; the twenty year-old blonde stood 5’4, weighed in at 110 lbs, and measured a very curvy 36D-24-36. Plenty of other girls could’ve matched her on paper, but in the flesh she was a beauty like no other. Her lush, shoulder-length golden locks, her angelic face, and her fit and athletic body made her the paragon of sensuality. It helped that she knew how throw a punch too – in just one year she’d had ten fights and won them all. Her skills and her massive fan appeal quickly earned her a title shot against the reigning flyweight champion.

Never one to disappoint, Erica had looked stunning when she slipped through the ropes and climbed into the ring that night. She tantalized the crowd in attendance with her knee-length lavender silk robe; though she was covered up, it left plenty to the imagination, drawing in the crowd even more. It was a real treat then when she untied the sash and let her two cornergirls slip the robe off of her body. At that moment, Erica commanded the full attention of every man and woman there, and she had absolutely no intention of letting go. Wearing a pink metallic-finish string bikini complemented by black gloves and shoes, the blonde reveled in the way her figure in this skimpy outfit attracted a seemingly unending cascade of cheers and catcalls from the audience; though still a rookie by some estimations, Erica was nonetheless an expert when it came to winning over an audience. She played along, posing and shadow boxing in her corner. She loved how she could sway the crowd with her actions, and their enthusiastic response stoked her ego and filled her with confidence.

Before long, the champion made her way down to the ring from the opposite side. Erica leaned back against the turnbuckle in her corner with her arms over the top ropes as she watched Lily Wu climb the ring steps and slide through the ropes. The Asian was, in her own way, a beauty without peer – like Erica, the 23 year-old Taiwanese girl was 5’4 and weighed slightly less at 105 lbs. Her black hair, highlighted auburn, cascaded beautifully down to the tops of her breasts. Her figure was a much more modest 34B-24-33, but she was still quite a woman to behold. The champ had chosen to make her entrance without a robe and was wearing a teal string bikini with a gold dragon pattern on it, her favorite by all accounts, and likewise had black gloves and shoes. The title belt was secured snugly around her waist as began a slow parade around the ring’s perimeter. Her lithe appearance belied her ferocity as a boxer – in a little over three years Lily had earned herself a 26-0 record; she’d been the reigning champ for eight months now, but despite fighting a busy schedule against many talented challengers, no one had even come close to dethroning her.

Lily looked every bit a queen. Even Erica couldn’t disagree – for the time being, at least. Though the crowd’s cheers were enthusiastic, Erica didn’t think they were on par with the once that had accompanied her entrance – that thought brought a self-satisfied smirk to the blonde’s face. She also couldn’t help but notice the striking contrast between herself and Lily. While the blonde exuded raw sex appeal and overwhelmed the senses with her beauty, the Asian carried herself in a much more seductive manner and enticed with her sensuality.

Lily was rounding the neutral corner when her eyes locked onto Erica’s – the two ladies fixed each other with glares that would have burned holes into the souls of lesser women as they sized each other up. Erica smiled cattily, her every look and facial expression conveying an unyielding confidence in her own abilities and prospects; Lily offered nothing but an icy and stoic look in return. A loud series of catcalls erupted from the seats close to ringside as the Asian marched past Erica’s corner and continued the circuit back to her own – there was no doubt that the two had the perfect chemistry for each other as opponents.

Returning to her corner, Lily assumed a pose similar to Erica’s as her seconds removed the belt from her waist and prepared her for battle. Erica continued to smile as she stared at her opponent as her own seconds likewise prepping her for combat. She went so far as to place her arms behind her neck and thrust her chest out, giving her heavy jugs a good shake to taunt her less well-endowed opponent. Lily’s eyes narrowed hatefully as she glared back at her showboating challenger, but she calmly restrained herself from being goaded into further emotional outbursts – it was likely the biggest rise that the blonde would be able to get out of the Asian.

Beaming proudly, Erica raised her gloves into a defensive guard as the clear mouthpiece was slipped between her lips. She was confident, motivated, and eager for the bell to ring to begin the match – never had she been so certain that it was her night to shine. By the time it was over, she’d take everything she’d want from Lily and make it her own…


Black leather. Violent head-swivel. Pain.

Erica groaned as Lily’s right cross crashed into her left temple. The blow rocked her badly, sending her stumbling backwards on unstable legs. Struggling to shake off the blow, the blonde barely got her gloves up in time to block a murderous left hook from smashing into the other side of her face.

Erica was in shambles. Thirteen and a half hard minutes of boxing had left her a shell of her former self – all of her previous hubris, poise, and will to fight had been slowly but steadily beaten out of her. She was still hanging on by a sliver of her pride, but at this point she didn’t have much else. Her ribs and midriff ached with every breath she took. Her golden locks, once gleaming and lustrous, now hung and dangled damply around a face that was well worn by the marks of battle. Both of Erica’s eyes showed varying degrees of swelling and were each half shut. Her lower lip was cut and trickling blood. Her once beautiful breasts throbbed with pain, battered savagely by the hands of a vengeful champion.

More punches impacted on the blonde’s guard. Her arms were growing wearier with each blow – soon Lily would be able to punch them aside and get back to business. Erica’s footwork was gone at this point – all she could do was backpedal and retreat until she was finally trapped against the ropes.

Erica grimaced as the Asian’s right hook dug into her ribs. Lily was changing tack, now deciding to work on the blonde’s midsection. Erica brought her elbows in and tried to turn with the blows to lessen their force, but Lily’s punches were still finding their way around to pound her flanks. Erica took another particularly hard shot – she threw herself forward, clinching desperately with Lily. Though she’d managed to force her opponent back a step, Erica could feel Lily pushing her back. Under different circumstances, Erica might’ve enjoyed the feeling of an opponent’s sweaty body pressed up against her own, the sensation of her hulking rack mashing against her foe’s smaller pair, or the heat of their breaths against each other’s necks as they struggled in close quarters – but these were not those times. In her fatigued state, she knew that she couldn’t tie the Asian down for long – all she could do was stall and eat up time to the bell.

It took Erica a split second to realize that Lily had managed to wrench her right arm free the blonde’s grappling left. However, the moment it took to make that recognition was a moment that she couldn’t afford – Lily was already thrusting an uppercut to her chin. With her guard out of place, there was nothing to prevent the forceful punch from finding its mark. Erica groaned as her head was snapped back violently. She was dazed – very badly – as she stumbled backwards. The entire world was spinning as the punch left her completely disoriented – the support of the ropes as her back hit them once more was the only thing keeping her from crashing down completely to the canvas.

Lily’s fists brought Erica back to her senses. An anguished wail escaped the blonde’s lips as her left breast was hammered by the Asian’s right hook. Another shriek filled the air as a matching left hook pounded her right tit a second later. The pain was almost unbearable, but the sound of her own voice hurt Erica on another level. Her cries were high-pitched. They had a girly quality to them. They sounded so plaintive… so helpless.

And the punches kept coming.

Erica was slumped with her butt in the ropes. She was carrying her hands low, just above her waist – too low to protect her chest. All she could do was watch as her tits were getting wrecked. Her screams were growing louder and more agonized with each subsequent impact. No doubt Lily was paying the blonde back for flaunting her larger assets before the match. As she cringed and groaned in pain with every punch, Erica could hear the crowd roaring at the sight of the vicious jug mugging taking place. She imagined she could see them on their feet cheering at the prideful and haughty blonde getting her comeuppance.

And then it happened.

Staring down at her chest, Erica howled in pain and shame as a half-hook, half-uppercut knocked her right breast out of its cup. In this business, this sort of thing happened all the time, but it was never good to be first. Erica’s face blanched as if all her fighting spirit had been bled out of her in that instant. Glancing up to look at Lily’s face, she could see a nuanced change in the Asian’s expression – it was as if Lily had stolen that same spirit from her and added it to her own. This had happened to Erica on a few occasions before, and she’d dished it out her fair share of times, but this time the feeling cut into her like a dagger to the heart. Lily wasn’t done – she immediately followed up with the same punch from the opposite hand to the opposite tit, hammering it again and again until it likewise popped out into plain view.

Erica groaned as the pain began to overwhelm her. Her jugs were taking such a terrible pounding. The punches kept coming, one after another…


In her mind, Erica could pinpoint the exact moment when things started going wrong.

It had come about halfway into the second round. Up until that point, she had been able to fight Lily to a standstill. It had been a great display of boxing technique and ring generalship. Why couldn’t it have stayed that way? She knew in her heart that she was a better woman than Lily. Why hadn’t she been able to prove it?

Erica had a magnificent left jab. It was unlike the sissy fare put out by the creampuffs who had dared to presume themselves to be the blonde’s betters prior to stepping into the ring with her – hers was pulverizing weapon that had broken down every opponent she’d met thus far. Unfortunately for Erica, however, Lily’s was equally fearsome and she’d been putting hers to better use ever so slightly.

Two such jabs had found their way through Erica’s guard, snapping her head back and putting her off balance for just a moment; she was open just long enough for a searing right cross to crash into her chin and drop her onto her ass.

Sitting there semi-reclined with both arms behind her bracing for support, Erica shook off the cobwebs quickly. However, she quickly took notice of the champ. She glanced up and made eye contact with Lily, who was standing over her. The Asian’s gloves were still raised as if she were expecting more combat, and her cold expression seethed with an unspoken fury. A chill went down Erica’s spine. She couldn’t explain why, but the sight of her opponent towering imperiously above her like that shook her to her core.

Ultimately, the referee had to push Lily back and direct her to the neutral corner in order to begin the count. With the extra seconds Erica had no trouble getting up in time, but the message had been sent: Lily wanted her to get up. Lily wanted to hurt her. Lily wanted to use her up. Lily wanted to humiliate her.

And things only went downhill from there…


Lily was towering over her again.

Erica was on her hands and knees, forearms on the canvas. Battered by punches to all fours, she was barely cognizant of what was going on around her, but she still knew the champ was there. The ring was very well illuminated and shadows were ephemeral wisps on the blue canvas, but despite this Erica could still feel Lily’s looming over her like a dreadful omen.

A loud clang filled the air. The blonde stared numbly at the Asian’s feet as they carried the champ back to her corner. Lily’s stride was at an almost leisurely pace, though not relaxed enough to be called a saunter, not conceited enough to be called a swagger and definitely not suggestive enough to be called a strut. Meanwhile, Erica felt herself being pulled up into a kneeling position, followed by both of her arms being hooked over two pairs of shoulders as she was lifted up onto her feet. It took a second for her to realize that her cornergirls were taking her back to her stool.

She had been saved by the bell. That thought alone made Erica want to cry.

The blonde was plopped down on her stool – she was reclined against the turnbuckle with her head lolling against the padding, arms draped wearily atop the ropes. Her seconds worked feverishly to revive her as they tried to make the best of a deteriorating situation. The junior of the two squeezed a sponge of ice water atop her head, eliciting a groan from Erica’s lips as the cold liquid refreshed her, but she was still struggling to regain her senses. Her trainer was kneeling in front of her, rubbing first Erica’s shoulders then her thighs in an attempt to coax some life back into her body. The older woman was all but pleading, but the blonde couldn’t hear the words coming out of her mouth – instead her eyes and attention were transfixed across the ring.

Everything was serene in the champion’s corner. Lily’s pose as she sat on her stool was almost the same as Erica’s but the contrast was like night and day. She was calm and relaxed as she sat upright, giving her an almost dignified quality in contrast to the disheveled challenger on the opposite side of the ring. Everything was going according to plan for the Asian – she had absolutely no reason to worry. Lily had mastered the art of saying so much without speaking a single word.

Lily’s gaze met Erica’s. Despite the cool demeanor, it felt like the Asian was piercing the blonde’s soul with the intense stare. It hurt just as badly as any physical punch could, and Erica had to avert her gaze. Force of will alone seemed to cow her into submission.

Erica felt the strings of her bikini top coming undone. She whimpered in soft protest as her cornergirl gingerly removed it from her body. The blonde had fallen out of her top, and club rules dictated that it had to come off. As the article of clothing was peeled away from her sweaty skin, Erica’s eyes focused again at the sight of motion in her opponent’s corner. Lily was on her feet with twenty seconds left in the break, standing proudly as she had her bikini top removed in return. It was a commonplace psychological blow, but an effectively cruel one – Lily’s smaller breasts were pristine and virtually untouched while Erica’s bigger jugs were badly bruised and in terrible shape; Lily had bared herself by choice while Erica had been forced to do so against her will; Lily was confidently displaying her assets while Erica had nothing left to be proud of. Erica wanted to cry.

The bell rang ominously to begin Round 6. For a second Erica didn’t move. Every impulse was urging her to give up. She was in barely any condition to continue. It would be so much easier just to stay seated and quit on her stool…

The moment passed. Collecting her courage, Erica wearily rose to her feet and raised her guard. Even though her body was on the verge of shutting down, her pride refused to let her surrender without a fight. Steeling herself, she resolved to go out there and give Lily the round of her life. She’d go out there and come back a winner or go out on her shield.

Erica plodded out to meet Lily in the center of the ring – the spring was gone from her step as she and her opponent circled each other. The blonde jabbed twice, trying to penetrate the Asian’s guard, but both punches were blocked with ease. A right hook missed, as Lily backpedaled out of harm’s way a split second before the punch would’ve hammered her chin. Jabbing again, Erica threw a right cross, but in the blink of an eye the champ managed to step inside and beat her to the punch with a hard uppercut to the chin that put a wobble in the blonde’s legs. Circling and looking for an opening, Erica was too slow to respond as Lily, quick as a mongoose, darted in again and landed a left-right combo to the jaw. The blows rocked Erica’s head to and fro, sending her stumbling back to the ropes.

Struggling to shake off the cobwebs, Erica groaned as Lily’s deadly right cross snapped her head back violently. She tried to cover up, taking a pair of thudding blows on her guard, but a left hook found its way through, smashing into her cheek just below her right eye. Erica tried desperately to fight back, but everything she threw seemed to miss – in return, for every punch she threw, the Asian’s fists connected with precision to her face. Each of the blonde’s punches was wilder than the last, every one carrying a vain hope that it could somehow miraculously turn the tide of an already lost battle. Badly dazed, Erica couldn’t even see Lily’s punches at this point – she could only feel the brutal force of each one as they snapped her head back and rocked it back and forth like a swivel.

As her legs buckled more and more with each blow, Erica stumbled forward and managed a half-clinch, tying up her left arm around Lily’s neck and the Asian’s likewise around hers. She pushed just enough to take a few steps off the ropes. Their breasts grazed in between their bodies for just a second before Lily shoved Erica away for separation, allowing her to reset. The blonde ambled clockwise from one side of the ring to the adjacent, raising her dukes and measuring the Asian in her mind.

The climactic exchange of blows took place all within the span of a single second.

As they closed to exchange blows again, Erica lashed out with a right hook, missing widely. She was loading up to throw her left when she was met by a left and a right hook to the jaw. The force of Lily’s blows knocked her senseless and her hook flailed wildly off the mark. The combination of the two forces caused Erica’s legs to corkscrew, spinning her around and dropped her face down on the canvas.

All it took was one second.

Groaning as she slowly regained her bearings, Erica could barely make out the count from the referee. As she looked out into the crowd, she could tell its furor had reached its peak, whipped into a bloodthirsty frenzy at the prospect of one fighter being vanquished before its eyes. Something was different though – all night, the crowd had been cheering at the spectacle of watching Erica get picked apart. The cacophony of sound was incomprehensible, but somewhere along the way its tenor had changed. No longer was the audience enthralled by the sight of the beauty who was getting beaten; instead, it was now firmly in the hands of the other beauty who was dishing out the beating.

Reaching for the bottom rope, Erica pulled herself up to all fours then pushed herself all the way up to her feet, but it was clear that she was just about out of gas. Her legs almost gave out the moment she got up and she clung to the top rope for support. She was groggy and could barely focus her eyes. The referee wiped Erica’s gloves and signaled the fight to continue – it was foolhardy for anyone to continue, and only the mightiest of hearts would have considered doing so. Despite her shabbiness, Erica refused to quit – she’d come too far to simply give up.

And then Lily was on her.

Erica cried out as the Asian’s right hook bashed her left tit. An identical punch followed immediately, and her breast again molded itself around the gloved fist as it was brutally compressed against the blonde’s chest. Slumped in the strands, Erica watched helplessly as her once-proud rack was humbled. A left hook now to the right orb, then another right, then another left… The pain was so intense… so paralyzing. All Erica could do was scream and sob and take it like a cheap tramp. Lily carved into the underside of her left breast with a right uppercut, knocking it upwards and tearing another loud wail from the blonde’s lips. The Asian pawed at her shoulder with her left hand, measuring her for another right uppercut that smashed into the blonde’s other tit.

Desperate, Erica surged forward and threw a wild left and right hook. The punches failed to land, but their purpose was served as Lily backed off, giving the blonde the reprieve she’d longed for. Finally able to get off the ropes, Erica tottered to her left, circling with her foe as the fight returned to midring. As they measured one another, Erica’s gaze met Lily’s. In spite of her raggedness, in spite of the fog hanging over her mind, Erica knew that this was the moment of truth. The entire night had been building up to this.

Closing the distance between them, the two fighters traded blows. Erica put everything she had left into one solid right cross. Her punch slammed to Lily’s cheek just below the eye a split second before Lily’s left hook smashed into her own ribs. Erica could feel the force of the impact in her arm and shoulder: she couldn’t have delivered the cross any more beautifully. It was a solid connect, perhaps the best punch the blonde had thrown all night. Lily’s punch was gut wrenching, strong enough to stop her in her tracks, but it was a small price to pay. It was worth it just to know that she’d genuinely hurt the champ with that punch.

Half a second later, Lily’s own right cross crashed into Erica’s chin, ending her night.


Knocked out on the canvas, Erica Ellis was lying in the picturesque sprawl that one always imagined a vanquished boxer would be in at the end of a fight. The blonde was starfished on her back with her hands on either side of her head and legs stretched inert. Her eyes were shut tightly and her lips were slightly parted. There were no signs of life aside from the rise and fall of her bosom with each breath that her unconscious body took. In the parlance of the business, she’d been left “tits up on the canvas.”

Lily Wu was standing over her beaten challenger, gloves already removed and title belt hooked and draped over her shoulder. She unwittingly brought her left hand up and traced her fingers over the bruise below her eye that Erica had left as a parting gift. Though her face betrayed no intention, Lily seethed as she stared down at the blonde wreckage at her feet. It was bad enough that a girl as pitiful as Erica had managed to blemish her. Worse yet was the way that she’d enthralled the crowd all night. Despite all the punishment that she’d taken over the course of the fight, Erica was somehow just as beautiful as she was when she’d first stepped into the ring that night. The Asian couldn’t deny that the blonde possessed a certain majesty, even now in her shabbiness. Erica had fought to the bitter end and gone down swinging, and the audience absolutely loved her for it. It irked Lily that the blonde could elicit such a response from the crowd.

A more nuanced look crossed Lily’s face. Bending down and reaching for Erica’s bikini bottom, she untied the strings and pulled it off of her body. The crowd roared loudly as she stripped the blonde and left her naked except for her gloves and shoes. Lily had already claimed the blonde’s top from her corner with the intention of adding Erica’s swimsuit as a trophy for her collection. Taking both pieces in one hand and holding them high above her head, Lily began a long and sexy strut around the ring’s perimeter. She showed off her prize for the audience – they were redlining now, cheering at the top of their lungs and reacting to Lily’s every move as she sauntered about.

For the first time that night, Lily smiled – it was broad and a magnificent sight to behold. She had the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand – she and not Erica was their queen, and in they end they belonged to her and her alone. After all, Lily was a foxy boxer blessed with an extraordinary gift – she possessed a rare and magnificent beauty, one that shined at its fullest when she stood proudly in victory.

The End

Thank you for reading! For more of Dradis’ Stories: Click Here!

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