Newlywed Boxing - Part 3

Parts 1& 2 can be found here: [https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/htmfz5/newlywed\_boxing\_part\_2/](https://www.reddit.com/r/BallbustingStories/comments/htmfz5/newlywed_boxing_part_2/)

Post your predictions below! Who do you want to win?

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Marcia instructed the fighters to touch gloves. Sofie extended hers but Ryan, cruelly, slammed his gloved fists down upon them. Jen rang the bell ringside, *DING*, and the fight was underway. Without wasting a moment, Ryan drew back a heavy fist and let fly at his wife’s beautiful face. 

Sofie was startled by her husband’s ferocity — Ryan was clearly not holding back and wanted to make a show of things — but what surprised her more was her own reaction. Instinctively, she reacted, leaning backwards just as Ryan’s fist swung past in a red blur. Sofie felt a gust of air that rustled her hair as her husband’s glove rushed past her face, close enough to nearly shave the fine vellus hair of her chin. She had moved just in time, however, and Ryan’s mighty blow hit nothing but empty air, inadvertently carrying him over his own axis and sending a foot to step over the lines of his box. 

Seeing that her opponent was off-balance from the force of his missed hook, and that he had edged outside of his sanctioned confines, Sofie planted her feet within her own box and lanced out with two quick jabs which ripped into Ryan’s unprotected left eye — *smack, smack* — rocking his head back and opening a small cut over his brow. Applause rose from outside the ring from the female contingent of onlookers, mingled with a low grumbling of the male audience. 

“What the hell?” Ryan’s friend Tim said aloud, baffled by this early turn of events. None of the men gathered expected Sofie to land a single punch, let alone two consecutive blows that would draw blood so early on in the match.

Ryan, meanwhile, was similarly caught off-guard. Straightening, he brought a glove up to his injured eye, winced slightly and then marveled at the blood spotted there. He became furious. “She hit me twice!” he complained to Marcia.

“You stepped outside of your box,” the stand-in referee explained. “That gave her an extra strike.” She nodded at Sofie and raised two fingers. “Is someone keeping score?”

“Oh, great idea!" Jen chimed from ringside. She made note of the chalkboard on an easel that Sofie had set up as a welcome to her new home and quickly co-opted as a makeshift scoreboard. Erasing the current message she quickly scrawled the two combatants’ names on opposite sides of the board and marked two hashes under “Sofie”.

“Looks like I’m winning,” said Sofie as Ryan glared down at the scoreboard. 

“You only dodged because of this damned bench,” Ryan sulked. “And you hit me when I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m just following the rules,” Sofie said innocently. “You can give up if it’s too hard.”

That set him off, as Sofie had hoped it would. Roaring, Ryan sent an uppercut towards his wife’s chin. She had expected a quick retaliation and, stupidly, Ryan had signaled his punch too early by hollering, giving her ample time to hop out of the way of his would-be knockout blow. His fist once again caught nothing but air and, due to the rotation of his hips, Ryan’s shin barked sharply against the oaken bench. He yelped and hopped on one foot, clutching at his leg. 

A toe went outside the box.

*Smack*! Sofie’s glove flashed into Ryan’s eye once again, opening the cut further. The crowd gasped as the prized fighter once again had his head sent reeling by his pretty young wife. Unlike Ryan, Sofie had maintained her position in her box, pivoting neatly on softly muscled thighs that caught the afternoon sun with a glow, exposed as they were up and above the hip by her form-fitting leotard.

“That’s three-to-nothing Sofie,” Jen called out as she scrawled another hash under the female boxer’s name. The men were now openly grousing. 

“What are you doing, Ryan?” Tim called out, frustrated by the early performance. 

Ryan ignored him as he settled back onto his feet. He was in a sour mood. His wife had managed to land three consecutive blows while he had, *somehow*, missed her with two punches that would have put an end to this entire silly contest. His eye stung from where her gloves had struck, but he ignored it and told himself she had only been lucky, striking him when he wasn’t prepared. That wouldn’t happen again.

"Are you ready to continue, Ryan, or do you want to submit?" Marcia asked, well aware of how the question would rankle the male boxer.

"No more free shots," he grumbled, thumping his gloves and staring down his wife. Before he had just wanted to win, but the cocky smile Sofie now wore incensed him. He needed to make an example of her.

Ryan's glove lashed out as he snapped a quick jab at his wife's pretty chin. Quick as a cat, Sofie simply sat, her shapely bottom thudding against the hard bench with a smack as Ryan's heavy fist sailed overhead, tussling her auburn ponytail. Pulled once more off-balance by a blow that missed his target, Ryan stumbled forward, still straddling the bench but clearly stepping outside his box. Sofie stared up at the underside of her husband's chin from her seat, flexed her thighs against the bench and then rocketed an uppercut into Ryan's jaw with a crack that must have loosened a few of his teeth as she came back into a standing motion, following through with her punch in a graceful arc that ended with both fighters frozen, statuesque, in opposite reliefs. Upon Sofie's face was a broad grin, knowing she had landed her best blow yet, while Ryan's eyes were scrunched up tearfully as an explosive pain ripped through his jaw and he went rigid. 

For a moment they remained poised as such, her in a feminine pose of power, breasts heaving and thighs glistening against the sunlight, him bent ludicrously backward from her blow wearing a mask of tortured pain. Then, calmly, Sofie lowered her fist and took notice of her husband's stance on the canvas. She couldn't help me but let out a giggle. Despite Ryan's constant boasting of superior boxing ability, he had once again let a foot stray outside of his ordained box. She had been eager to win, but this was becoming too easy. As she looked to Marcia with a cheeky "can you believe this?" look, Sofie almost felt bad for her braggadocio husband as he twitched before her, still frozen bolt upright from her brutal assault.

Then she remembered his sexist assertions and the cruel look in his eyes when he told her women couldn't box. *We’ll see about that*, she thought as her eyes drifted downwards to the tightly packaged bulge between her husband’s thick legs. Its respective components were clearly outlined by his tight shorts, with two meaty orbs resting low, straining the lycra, while his cock sat rigidly above, upright. 

Tensed as he was, with his arms splayed outwards and his face skyward, Ryan had no view of his beautiful wife pulling back her gloved fist, tensing it and then blasting it forward towards his delicate, low-hanging appendages. The crowd, however, had an unobstructed view and drew in a baited breath as Sofie’s fist cut through air and blasted into Ryan’s twin orbs. Her glove pistoned into them with a meaty *slap*, followed by a sickening *thud* as she drove his balls *hard* against his unyielding groin.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” sighed the crowd in collective unison.

"Sorry, baby,” Sofie cooed in mock sympathy as Ryan’s face came within an inch of her own, his body folding around her fist, clamping tightly down on her glove in a futile attempt to dull the massive hurt she had just delivered. “But you should really work on your footwork.”

Ryan stared back at her with glassy eyes filled with deep, deep pain. His mouth hung open in shock and, as such, the only response he could muster was a weak, high-pitched “*Myyyyyyyyyyyy*,” before Sofie mercifully withdrew her fist from between his legs, causing his injured organs to decompress back into their lycra pouch and Ryan’s voice to drop down a few octaves (though still quite higher than his usual register) and conclude his response to his beautiful wife. “Balls.”