Capitalist Boxer
By Dragon
Elaine shows Frank how a woman boxes for money


I waited nervously in my hotel room for the knock on the door. 
The idea of female boxers had always turned me on. I had often 
fantasized about competing against a woman with the gloves on. But I 
never seriously thought that I could actually live my fantasy until 
I spotted this ad on the Amazon's Arena computer bulletin board:

Looking for some competition? Strong, confident female available for 
competitive wrestling, boxing, and martial arts matches. I am the 
real thing. Serious inquiries only. Contact Elaine at ...

The ad intrigued me. I had seen similar ads before, but never one 
that offered real boxing. Over the course of the next few days, I 
found myself increasingly thinking about the ad. Finally, I couldn't 
take it any longer. Breaking down, I logged onto the board and left 
Elaine a private message asking about the ad and if she was serious 
about boxing a man for real. I received a reply the next day. All it 
contained was a telephone number and a time. That night I called the 
number.

"Is this Frank?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes. Elaine?"

"Yes. I understand from your message that you're looking for a 
private boxing match."

"Uh, that's right. You meant what you said in your ad?"

"Every word. Just a few questions. Could you tell me your height, 
weight, age, physical condition, and any previous fighting 
experience."

I felt like I was talking to a medical receptionist as I answered, 
"Well, I'm five eleven, one ninety, thirty three years old. I'm in 
pretty good shape, and I used to do some boxing in the navy."

"Were you any good?"

"I could hold my own."

"OK. These matches don't come cheap. A boxing match will cost you a 
minimum of a thousand dollars plus any traveling expenses. Does 
that sound all right to you?"

"Uh, I suppose that would be OK, but..."

"I accept cash, major credit cards, and registered checks. I 
require a deposit of half the money up front non-refundable. You 
might also want to plan on bringing extra money. My clients usually 
find themselves buying more services than they anticipated."

"But..."

"I see you live in L.A.. Could you get out to Vegas?"

"Yes, but..."

"Good. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes. What about you? How do I know you can box? For that matter, 
how do I know you'll show up?"

She didn't seem at all offended by my questions. Instead, she 
gave me a number of references. After I hung up with her, I called 
them. The men I talked to were reluctant to give details, but they 
all agreed that Elaine was for real, and that she would give me the 
experience of a lifetime. I didn't think much of it at the time, but 
most of them mentioned something about it costing them more than 
they expected.

Quickly calling back, I set up an appointment in Vegas with Elaine 
for the weekend. She had given me specific instructions on where to 
meet her and how to prepare for our match. She had been specific 
about the hotel I should register in. She explained that she had 
used it before and that it had large rooms with good sound proofing 
and plenty of floor space for our match. She told me to get a room 
on the first floor so that she wouldn't have to haul her equipment 
up the stairs. 

So I rented the room, and had spent ten minutes moving the furniture 
against the wall as she had instructed. When I had finished, I had 
cleared an area of about twenty feet square. Just right for a boxing 
match. With three hours to kill, I watched a little television and 
tried to relax. 

The knock on the door came precisely on time. Answering it, I found 
myself face to face with a beautiful young brunette wearing a trench 
coat and glasses. She looked more like a business woman than a 
boxer. She extended her hand and we exchanged greetings. I was 
pleased that she had a large hand with a firm handshake. Her ad 
hadn't lied. She exuded an aura of strength and confidence. Inviting 
her in, I gave her the balance of her money.

Looking around the room, she said, "Good job Frank. Could you give me 
a hand with my equipment?"

I accompanied her outside to her truck. Her Blazer contained a bunch 
of professional quality gym mats which I helped her carry inside. 
When we had finished, she took off her coat and glasses and dropped 
them on the bed. Under her coat she had been wearing a black spandex 
workout top and shorts. She was a big girl, about five eight, one 
fifty. She wasn't cut and bulging like a bodybuilder, but her arms 
were large and well toned. Her legs and ass spoke of countless hours 
on the stair master and treadmill. Her stomach was flat as a board, 
and her tight shorts barely dented her flesh were they squeezed her 
waist. Her top had a series of horizontal slits over her cleavage 
allowing me to get a bit of a peak at the firm breasts trapped 
inside. She wasn't quite what I had expected, but I certainly wasn't 
complaining. 

As I helped her arrange the mats on the floors and along the walls, 
she explained, "The first couple of times I did this, I just showed 
up and we fought it out on the carpet. Then when I was wrestling a 
guy, I flipped him over my back and he cracked his head open on the 
dresser. Scared the shit out of me. I thought I had killed him. He 
was OK, but I wasn't. The next day, I bought these mats and got 
myself an umbrella policy. I haven't had a problem since."

After we finished, she said, "Well Frank, are you ready? Do you want 
to change?"

"Uh, yeah. I was thinking of wearing a pair of boxing shorts if 
that's OK with you."

"It's your match. You can box naked if you want. But shorts would be 
just fine."

I went to the bathroom and changed. I was so excited, I almost threw 
up. Calming myself down, I opened the door and prepared to live my 
fantasy. Elaine was rooting through a huge bag full of gear. 

Pulling out two pairs of gloves, she looked at me and said, "Oooh, 
you are in pretty good shape. I don't even know why I bother asking 
the question. Every man says he's in pretty good shape. You wouldn't 
believe what I've had to deal with. Are eight ounce gloves OK with 
you?"

"Fine," I replied.

"Do you want headgear?"

"That's OK," I said, "but you can wear it if you want."

Elaine just shrugged and dropped it back in the bag. Asking me to 
sit on the bed, she helped wrap my hands. My heart was nearly 
thudding out of my chest as I studied her up close. She had long 
black hair which she had to occasionally blow out of her eyes as 
she worked. I watched the muscles in her arms as she wound the cloth 
around my hands. The way they danced under her skin, I could tell 
she was no stranger to weights. Watching the way she did the wrap, I 
could see she was no stranger to boxing either. After she finished 
me, she did herself. Flexing her hands, she seemed satisfied with 
the job. 

"Well Frank, are you ready? If you'd like, we could start off with 
some arm wrestling. It helps to break the ice. No extra charge," she 
smiled.

I agreed, and we knelt down across from each other at the corner of 
the bed. As we locked up, I got a good chance to have a look at her 
flexed bicep. It was long and thick, but not peaked. As we began, I 
was nearly overwhelmed by her unexpected burst of strength. Fighting 
back, I managed to keep from getting pinned and forced her arm back 
up. Elaine gritted her teeth with effort as I gradually forced her 
arm down. As her hand neared the bed, I was pleased to see her thick 
pectoral muscle as it stretched from beneath her top. With a final 
effort, I finished her off. Even though I beat her, I was still 
impressed. I wouldn't care to try her again if we were both the 
same size.

Rubbing her shoulder, Elaine said, "You're as strong as you look. 
I usually have to let my clients win. It's nice to meet a man worth 
competing against."

Elaine was really pumping up my ego. I felt great as I put the 
gloves on. As she handed me a mouthpiece, she went over the rules. 
We would box two minute rounds with one minute breaks. The match 
would go until one of us was knocked out or submitted. As Elaine set 
an automatic timer, I determined to hold back and try to make the 
match last as long as possible. After all, I wanted to get my 
money's worth.

A chime sounded and we approached each other prepared to do battle. 
I was dizzy with excitement as I viewed Elaine with her red leather 
gloves raised and ready. I flicked a couple of jabs at her which she 
batted down with her gloves. She responded with a few jabs that fell 
short. I threw a roundhouse right at the side of her head which she 
quickly ducked. As she straightened back up, she had to blow some 
more hair out of her eyes. She was cute as hell. As I admired her, 
she shot a jab over my gloves. My vision was blocked for a moment by 
her glove. It was long enough. The next thing I remember, I opened 
my eyes and saw the mat. My nose hurt like hell where I had landed 
on it and my jaw felt sore where she had hit me. Rolling over, I 
looked up and saw Elaine standing over me.

"Want to go again?" she asked.

I sat up and shook my head to clear the cobwebs. I was feeling 
confused and disapointed with myself.

Standing up, I said, "Yes, I'd like to go again."

"OK, that'll be another five hundred."

"What? You want to charge me again. It was a lucky punch."

"You knew the rules. You were knocked out. The match is over. It 
happens that way sometimes. If you think it was a lucky punch, it'll 
cost you five hundred to find out."

I was starting to find her cocky attitude annoying.

"OK," I said, "charge it to my card."

She nodded and raised her gloves again. I advanced on her determined 
to score. I threw a hard right which she bobbed to avoid. She 
countered, and caught me with a right of her own. I threw another 
roundhouse right. This time, she blocked my arm with her left and 
hit me with another right. My head snapped back and I saw the 
ceiling. As my head came back down, I saw that Elaine had moved a 
step closer. I never saw her right uppercut coming as it crunched 
into my jaw. Again, I found myself regaining consciousness on the mat.

"Want to go for three?" she asked.

"Damned right I do," I replied gruffly, "but this time, I'm not 
holding back."

Elaine shrugged her shapely shoulders.

"It's your match. You can fight anyway you want to. But it'll still 
cost you another five hundred."

"Fine, just give me a minute."

Elaine stood in the corner of the room shadow boxing while I sat 
on the bed for a few minutes recovering. I was getting seriously 
pissed now. I had spent fifteen hundred dollars for twenty seconds 
worth of boxing. This time I was going to use my superior size and 
strength to crush her.

Getting up, I said, "Let's go."

Elaine nodded and raised her gloves. I stepped forward and launched 
a hard straight right. Elaine stepped back and let it fall short. I 
immediately cut loose with a straight left and a huge right hand. 
Elaine weaved by the left and ducked past the right. When I 
recovered my balance, she wasn't there. I looked left, and then 
right, but I didn't see her. I started to turn around frantically. 
Stopping, I felt her glove tapping me on the shoulder. I managed to 
turn half way towards her before she hit me on the side of the jaw. 
I was starting to get tired of hauling myself off the mat. 

"Another match?" she asked.

"This is bullshit," I sputtered, "I haven't even hit you yet."

"This is boxing. I'm not supposed to let you hit me. But I'll tell 
you what. If you want to hit me, we can change the contest."

"To what?"

"We can both stand here and trade shots until one of us drops. No 
ducking, no evading punches. A thousand for body shots, two thousand 
for punches to the face. And the best part is, you get to go first. 
What do you say?"

The though of landing a few solid shots to her gut sounded good to 
me right now, so I lined up with her on the mat. Gathering all of my 
strength, I rammed my fist into the middle of her stomach as if I 
was hitting a heavy bag. She grunted and was knocked back a step.

"Not bad," she said, "but it's my turn now."

Her right glove blurred as she whipped it into my left side just 
under my ribs. I had done a lot of sit-ups at the gym, but I had 
never done a side crunch in my life and I was seriously regretting 
it now as I felt the sharp pain in my kidneys. I let out a yelp and 
clutched my side.

"Your turn," she said, placing her arms behind her head and 
scrunching her stomach muscles.

I took a deep breath and slammed her with a punch in the side where 
she had hit me. She barely moved this time as she took my best shot.

"Oooh, that tickled. My turn."

She hit me again in the left side. I squealed and staggered like a 
drunk. The pain was excruciating.

Elaine smiled at me, "No mas Frank?"

"I'm not giving up. Not when it's my turn," I managed to say.

"OK," Elaine said, "but remember, you can't give up after you hit 
me."

Gathering myself, I shot a straight right directly into her left tit 
where the nipple poked through the thin fabric of her top. Elaine 
yelped and took a step backwards, her glove covering her squashed 
mammary. She wasn't smiling anymore.

"You're getting a bargain tonight Frank. Ordinarily, a tit shot 
would cost you extra, but I forgot to mention that up front so 
they're fair game. But it's my turn again."

Elaine stepped back up to the line. I knew what was coming, but I 
was powerless to defend myself. I tried to flex the muscles in my 
side, but the pain was too great.

I must have subconsciously moved my arm to protect my side, because 
Elaine pointed and said, "Do you mind."

Grudgingly, I raised my arm and exposed my side. Elaine twisted to 
the side and released her punch, uncoiling like a huge spring. This 
time, she angled her punch upwards so that her knuckles dug under my 
ribcage. I screamed in agony and dropped to my knees. Tears were 
streaming down my face as I tried to catch my breath.

"No mas Frank?"

"No mas," I croaked.

"Are you sure?" she asked, "Those tit shots really are a bargain. 
You could hit my right tit and all it will cost you is another punch 
to the side."

"Fucking bitch!"

Elaine blinked and said, "Sorry, I won't hit you for free no matter 
how you ask."

I struggled to a sitting position on the bed and tried to get past 
the pain. Elaine started to take off her gloves and pack up.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

Elaine looked pleasantly surprised as she said, "You want more. 
That's really very sporting of you. What would you like? Some more 
boxing? I don't think you'd be up for kickboxing right now. Perhaps 
some wrestling?"

"How about we trade those head shots."

"No Frank, I don't think that would be a good idea right now."

"Twenty five hundred, and I go first."

"Three thousand," she shot back.

"Sold."

Elaine put her gloves back on and inserted her mouthpiece. I stepped 
up to the line. Right now, it would be worth three thousand to me to 
break her fucking jaw. I cut loose with the roundhouse right that 
she had been ducking all night. This time I had the satisfaction of 
connecting. Elaine's hair exploded and her head snapped to the side. 

She swayed for a second, and then said, "Not bad for an amateur." 

Without warning, she hit me with the same punch. My neck was 
wrenched painfully from the force of the blow and I went down on all 
fours. Touching my jaw, I felt broken bones grinding together.

"Get up and take your turn," she said.

It just wasn't worth it. Elaine was just too strong, too fast, and 
too good for me. And my fantasy was starting to cost me more than 
just money.

Looking up at her, I said, "I've had enough."

Elaine helped pull me up and started to drag her mats outside to her 
truck.

Before she left, she said, "Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself."

Sitting on the bed with a bag of ice on my jaw, I replied, "This 
sucks."

Elaine pouted for a moment and then said, "I'm sorry you feel that 
way. I don't like to leave my customers feeling unsatisfied. I'll 
tell you what, how about we arm wrestle one last time? You can end 
your session with a victory, and I won't even charge you for it."

I agreed. This time we sat down at the room's small table. 

Just before we started, Elaine asked, "How about double or nothing?"

"What?"

"Your bill, double or nothing on the arm wrestling match?"

I thought about it for a moment. I owed her a lot of money, and I 
had beaten her earlier. Getting knocked out hadn't sapped my 
strength. Why not?"

"Double or nothing," I nodded.

"Go," she said.

Both our arms quivered for a moment, neither of us gaining any 
advantage. Then her hand started to force mine slowly backwards with 
the strength of her wrist. Then my arm started to follow. I screamed 
as I tried to wrench my arm back up with my body weight. Elaine's 
face contorted with effort as she resisted my efforts. My strength 
started to lag, and my arm continued to yield to hers. The vein on 
top of her bicep bulged as she twisted my arm. With a final thrust, 
she rapped my knuckles painfully on the table.

Blowing another tuft of hair out of her face, she smiled and 
announced, "You owe me double."

I slumped backwards in my chair and sighed with resignation.

"Before I go, would you like an autographed picture or an Elaine 
T-shirt?"

"How much," I asked.

She pulled the items out of her bag. The picture was an eight by ten 
glossy showing Elaine in a bikini with a pair of gloves slung over 
her back. The T-shirt said "Elaine Kicked My Ass" on the front with 
a picture of her face on the back.

"One hundred for the picture, fifty for the shirt."

"One of each please."

"Well, if that's all, the balance of your bill comes to eleven 
thousand one hundred and fifty dollars. Worth every penny if you 
consider that you will be thinking about this night every day for 
the rest of your life."

"My credit card doesn't go that high."

"That's OK, I'll give you a week to mail me a check."

"And if I don't?" I asked.

Elaine slapped me gently on my broken jaw and said, "If you don't 
pay, you'll never see me again."

I paid.