Mixed fighting, ballbusting, 200 pictures 1920x1080 (FullHD), partially CFNM, no blood.

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Ian read through the email he had just written:

Dear AM Hargreaves,

On Saturday night I was out with my girlfriend, and a man of about the same age as me insulted both of us. Obviously I objected, and he asked me if I wanted to make anything of it. I have to say I backed down, and he laughed at me. He was bigger and heavier than me, and I didn’t have the confidence to take him on, but I could tell my girlfriend thought I should have done.

I don’t want to be in that situation again. I felt humiliated in front of her, and it’s obvious she thinks less of me. When I saw your advertisement I thought that was just the sort of thing I needed. So please could I book some tuition with you?

Best wishes,

Ian Davidson.

Shaking slightly, he pressed "Send". He spent the next few hours clicking on his inbox, and presently a reply came:

Hi Ian,

Don’t worry. Yours is quite a common situation. I run a professional service that teaches people how to defend themselves in situations typical of the one you’ve described. Most conflict isn’t complicated, expert martial arts, but street brawling. My aim is to give people firstly the ability, and secondly the self-confidence, to "handle themselves" when confronted by someone like your brief acquaintance of Saturday night.

I have a session free on Wednesday evening in my gym, if you would like to come along.

Regards,

AM Hargreaves.

Done! Ian decided to keep quiet about the session and tell his girlfriend he would be studying for his exams on Wednesday evening. He was reasonably fit already - went running and so on - so he was fairly confident that it wouldn’t take much tuition to be able to avoid another embarrassment like the previous Saturday evening. All the same, he made sure he did some extra running, and put in some weight training in the few days that he had before the session. He had his pride, and he imagined this Hargreaves bloke would be a bit of a bruiser.

On Wednesday evening he went to the gym, and introduced himself to a receptionist. She gave him a key to the changing rooms, a pair of shorts, and asked him to make his way to the gym once he was changed, and wait in the ring, where his tuition would start shortly. He was impressed. A proper ring! This bruiser must know his business. He quickly got changed, made his way to the gym, and entered the ring. He’d be home in just over an hour, he told himself, and no one need know where he’d been.

A door opened and closed. Ian looked towards the sound, and saw a woman walking towards the ring. A fine-looking woman! She was perhaps a little taller than average, with long, tapering legs. She had beautifully curved hips, a narrow waist, and perfect breasts. She wore a black leotard, cut above the hips, and wore her hair in a business-like bun. Ian gulped as the woman arrived at the ring, parted the ropes and climbed through them. As she turned briefly, he noticed she had one of those bottoms some women have that make men utter a sound like "Phwoooor!"

"Hi," she said pleasantly, holding out her hand, "I’m Anne Marie Hargreaves. You’re Ian, I take it?"

His mouth went dry. "Yes," he managed to croak, with an incredibly dry throat.

"I’m sorry you had an unfortunate experience with a … gentleman the other night, but I’m confident that you’ll be able to avoid such things in the future. You’re well-built, and you look as if you keep yourself fit. This should be straight forward enough. We’ll start with some simple defensive techniques. I’ll ask you to try and hit me."

"I’m sorry, I can’t do this." Ian told her, glumly.

"What’s the matter?"

"It seems all wrong."

"What does?"

"Well … the fact that you’re a woman."

"Oh, not that old nonsense again! Tell me, if a girl came to one of these sessions, and her instructor was a man, would you think that was wrong?"

"Well, no."

"It should be exactly the same, then. I have qualifications and recommendations – you can see them in frames on the wall in the gym."

"I’m sorry, I can’t help it."

"Yet another young man with a sexual hang-up about a woman teaching him to fight."

"Here, that’s a bit strong!" Ian protested, colouring.

"Well it’s true. You repress your fetishes, and disguise them by saying, ‘It seems all wrong’ as if you’re taking a moral stand. Okay, fine! Let your girlfriend do your fighting for you!"

"Bitch!" Ian’s anger made him strike out at her before he realised quite what he was doing. Anne Marie batted it away contemptuously, and replied with a side punch in his exposed ribs. Harsh, raw pain throbbed through his body.

"Oh, you’ll get some tuition all right, my lad," she told him furiously, "now come on, attack me. Okay, you see how I leant out of the way of your punch there? Well, all I have to do is swivel on my right foot slightly, and swing my right fist into the side of your exposed face like that. Oh come on, it wasn’t that hard. Don’t be such a wimp! 

Good, now I’ll attack. I like to start off with a low left in the stomach, like this. There, you see? It’s made you retreat. Oops, cough up, chicken! So now, to press home my advantage, I’ll give you a straight left like so. Lovely, bang on the chin! Okay, now what I did there was deceive you. It was a nasty blow, wasn’t it? But I am, in fact, right-handed. Normally, if you were to see me drawing back my right fist as I am now, you’d think you were in for a softer punch, but when I give you a straight right, like so … there you are, you’re on the ropes!  

Once you have your opponent on the ropes you can pepper him with punches. So, I’ll home in with my left fist and hook you – there, that’s great! It’s driven you into the corner. By the look of you, you’ll only take one more before you go down, so what haven’t I done yet? I know, an uppercut. I bring my right fist down like so, and then … smash it into your chin! Oh, bravo me!"

Ian lay on the canvas. He wasn’t unconscious, but neither could he be said to be fully conscious. It is doubtful whether he had learnt anything (other than the inadvisability of trying to hit someone like Anne Marie). It’s even doubtful if he heard what she said next, because he scarcely seemed to react, even when she carried out her intention:

"When a woman fights a man, she has certain advantages. One is, in your case, a repressed fetish about a woman who can beat him, which she can exploit. The second advantage is that his shorts are usually easy to take off, like so. The third, we’ll come to."

Ian stirred, regaining his senses, and Anne Marie stood over him, staring.

"Are you going to stay there, or can we get this thing finished? At last, he’s getting up. All right, now as the woman has just taken the man’s shorts off, she’s going to want to knee him in the balls. There! You see how effective that is? With him lurching forward, clutching his balls, it lines him up nicely for another uppercut. She chooses her left hand this time, for a change. There you go, it’s brought him back upright.

Synchronisation is everything in fighting, so the woman will now knee the man in the balls, and give him a right hook at the same time. Wow, that’s disorientated him! She wants him back on the ropes, so she gives him a punch in the stomach with her right. He’s nearly there, so one of her straight rights should do it. Oh yes, there he goes.

Now we arrive at the third of the woman’s advantages, which of course is linked to the first. The man’s impending defeat by her has given him an erection, known in the trade as a ‘defeat boner’. It saps what little strength and concentration he has left, and as she has him on the ropes anyway, she is able to plaster him with punches. Like this."

Anne Marie helped herself. She knocked Ian’s head first one way, then the other. She drove her punch straight, then curved the next one in. He had subconsciously hooked his arms around the top rope, and it was all that kept him upright. When she considered she had hit him enough (almost) she surveyed him for a moment, before gripping him by the chin and marching him to the middle of the ring. She steadied him for a moment and drew her right fist back. Her uppercut lifted him off his feet and into the air briefly, before bringing him down to earth with a painful crash on his shoulder – which he scarcely noticed.

"As the man is still semi-conscious," Anne Marie continued her narrative, "the woman has a number of options. She can leave the ring in triumph; or she can punch him until he loses consciousness; or she can" – she sat down – "sit down beside him, take his erect penis in her hand, and make him tell her how he adored being beaten up by her. Yes, that’s it, let me hear it. Good boy. She increases the pace, staring at him. She pulls harder and harder … Urgh, you dirty boy!"