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Beautiful and hardheaded Clarice knows how to handle herself in a fighting ring. She doesn't surrender easily to any man.Until she crosses path with her boss, Oscar Denver. He breaks through every mental restraint and common sense in her mind to make her submit not just to him, but to all the men who want her.~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~He had knocked me out with just one good hit, forcing all the air out of my lungs along with the will to continue fighting.What was I thinking? Picking a fight with the boss. Only, I didn't choose to fight him. Angela did. What was she thinking?!She could never say no to a handsome face. He probably worked his charms on her for one second and she melted."Are you okay?" I heard the familiar deep bass of my superior from the door and sat straight immediately."Hey, boss," I greeted with false gusto, leaning against the couch, bag of ice still over my cheek in a feeble attempt to will the bruise away. I flinched when he reached towards my face. Sensing my discomfort, he pulled back and towered over me like a disapproving master. His expression was stony. "Which idiot aimed for your face, Clarice?" he asked.He spoke my name like how I imagined a Frenchman would whisper promises in his lover's ear. I swallowed the shudder that threatened to crawl up my spine. "You should see what I did to him." I tried not to look at his face. He was like the sun, too painful to look at for too long. I didn't want to be blinded. "Do you always pick fights you can't win?" he asked, his expression softening.A laugh made it's way out my throat and I wished I could take it back. I sounded too eager to be amused. Does he know the effect he had on me by just being close to me? I made the mistake of gazing into his perfect black orbs. His eyes held a look of surprise, like he found himself as attracted to me as I was to him. And then I blinked and the desire in his eyes vanished like it was never there to begin with."I won that fight," I breathed. It was hard to breathe when he looked at me like that. His hands fell on either side of my face and I leaned back and away from his face. We were close enough that we were breathing in each other's air. It was too much.I could smell the muskiness of his sweat. "Bet I could take you in a rematch," I whispered. What was I doing? He was the best fighter in the ring. I couldn't take him on. I had been deliberately avoiding running into him ever since I found out the big boss enjoyed spending his free time beating people up."I would much rather hurt you in a different - more pleasurable - way," he said, his voice low and heavy.
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Public Humiliation, BDSM Submission, MF
Copyright 2017 Daisy Rose
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.
This is a standalone short story featuring an alpha male dominating an innocent young submissive for the first time in public.
It also contains scenes including voyeuristic humiliation, filled by strangers, MFM, public spanking, orgasm denial, sex toys, and lots of other steamy scenes.
Chapters with 18+ scenes are indicated with an asterisk (*).
I knew it was too late to escape the fist flying towards my cheek so I bit down on the mouth guard and spun my head in the opposite direction of the punch to make sure my jaw stayed intact.
The impact of clothed knuckles on the side of my head was almost enough to knock me out. A second earlier and I could've let the punch slip past.
The heavy impact of his punch sent me hurling towards the edge of the ring and the pain on my cheek was fast replaced by a throbbing on my head when I met the ground. The ringing in my ear was a familiar pain. I got up almost immediately and stumbled a little on my feet. My brain felt like it'd been rattled.
If Alex use this much force on all his punches, it was no wonder he tired out so easily by the end of each fight.
My hand came up to rub the pain on my head. That was going to leave a nasty bruise. I wasn't looking forward to explaining that at work the next morning. The HR department already called me into a meeting once for showing up with weird bruises and limping slightly.
Angela stepped forward with a worried glance. A bag of ice had materialized in her hands and she was offering it to me. Her lips were moving, but I couldn't hear her past the ringing in my ears. I waved her away. I was fine.
The cheer from the crowd around us slowly filled my eardrums in a loud bass of screams. I had to resist the urge to glare at every single one of them. I wondered if people still bet their money on Alex. He hadn't won a single fight against me.
Alex had a shit-eating grin on his face. He was getting better at predicting my moves. But so was I.
His lips were bruised and smeared with blood. I had gotten a few good jabs on his torso where it didn't show. He was all muscle, solid and large, but I was more agile and could move out of the way faster.
Two more good hits and he was down. I was almost sorry to end it.
From the corner of my eye, I saw that we had been at this for just a little over five minutes. I considered giving the audience a better show. The club was full tonight, the crowd huge, expecting plenty of fights and even more bets. I reminded myself that I wasn't getting paid more for longer fights.
Fueled by the thrill of finally landing a hit, he charged at me without thought. I moved out of range easily and delivered a swinging kick to his back as he dove past me. The impact added to the momentum of his run sent him flying into the ropes.
Alex wasn't a seasoned boxer, but he was fast becoming one. He had been coming to the ring and challenging me for a little over six months now. At first he was all brawns, no brains. That was odd, coming from one of the youngest and brightest lawyers in town. I saw his face on papers all the time, winning hard criminal cases. He should be smart enough to come up with a strategy instead of just using his fists to do the thinking for him.
I do wonder if he was here to blow off steam and not think, though.
Every fight I won against him earned me an easy two hundred and fifty dollars. The fights were short enough that I could join one or two more fights same night so I never turned down a fight from him.
If getting beaten by a woman every few weeks was hurting his ego, he never let it show. He was getting better with every fight.
I was surprised when he turned around and sent me a guilty grin. I was certain that was enough to end the fight. He looked like he knew he would miss and was sorry he tried the stupid maneuver in the first place.
If neither of us had guards in our mouths, we would be hurling playful insults at each other.
Alex and I had gone out on a few drinks after our fights, but decided ultimately that we weren't going anywhere beyond playful banters and exchanging punches. He was too focused on his work and didn't have time to date. It was better for us to stay opponents in the ring.
I wished he had taken me home though. He looked like he would be perfect in bed. He stood up and leaned against the rail. He shook his head and tried to get himself together. Sweat flew from his face and he wiped his brows with the back of his hand. His hair was a mess. It made him look even more fuck-able. I reminded myself that we were here to fight.
I resisted the urge to bounce on the balls of my feet. He was getting better at reading my minute moves.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins. My arms were staring to tire from the heavy, quick movements, as were my thighs. My face ached from a different kind of pain.
I could see every flaw on his face, every droplet of sweat that trickled down his perfect brow. I squinted a little against the bright light shining on us and decided I wasn't going to aim for his face.
Alex was only twenty five. Too young to have his nose broken. It was something of a running gag in the club that I avoided punching my opponents directly in the face unless I didn't have a choice. I didn't like leaving injuries that needed doctors to fix. Hospital visits were expensive. For the most part, the men also ignored aiming for my face.
Ignoring the ringing on the left side of my ear, I lashed forward as he moved groggily to the middle of the ring.
No matter how many times I got on the stage, I never got used to the pain. Or the exhilaration of delivering pain.
Sweat flew off my arms as I attacked my opponent. My quick jabs threw him off guard. He wasn't expecting me to have this much vigor this late in the fight. Every time he raised an arm to defend himself, I aimed for a different, unprotected part of his body. It was just hard enough to disorient him, not cause permanent injuries.
He drew back and I aimed at his head with a mean right hook, only to miss it deliberately as he blocked with his arm. Using the distraction, I sent an uppercut into his stomach with my left fist and followed that with a right hook immediately.
His mouth guard flew across the boxing ring. Air went out from his lungs and I stepped away. He collapsed onto the ground with a decisive thud.
The bell rang, a signal for us to stop.
I took the guard from my mouth and moved my jaw. It ached, but I was fine.
"Alright there, Alex?" I gave him a playful kick with the tip of my foot and yelped when his hand lashed out to grab my ankle. He pulled me to the ground with a quick yank.
I fell onto my buttocks with a laugh. "Jerk."
The crowd's laughter filled my ears and I was reminded that we weren't alone.
"I win," he said.
"That's not how this works," I laughed as I stood up, then offered a hand to help him up. He took it gratefully. We bowed to the crowd, most of whom were busy collecting their winnings. Or losses, judging from their disgruntled looks. I frowned. They were still betting on Alex instead of me. Assholes.
We hopped off the ring and shouldered our way past the crowd who were fast betting on a different match, and into the lounging room. Each fight was taxing and I had an hour to get my gearings back before I needed to get on another fight, one that would be much harder than with Alex.
I thanked Angela for the bag of ice and put it on my aching head. I wondered if she'd been holding onto it the entire time. Did she bet against me too?
"Saw your face on the news the other day," I commented to Alex. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," he grinned that stupid handsome grin capable of weakening my knees. I heard Angela sigh and was partially glad I wasn't the only one affected by his good looks. I regretted the bruise I left on his face.
I was lucky the mouth guard prevented him from working his charms on me. Fluorescent light reflected on his perfect blond hair and I gulped as he took off his shirt to reveal the perfect abs beneath it.
"If you ever decide to fight shirtless, I'm done for."
"Likewise." He was looking at me as if he was stripping me with his eyes.
I blushed and looked away. Angela's expression was slack as she devoured him with her eyes. I rolled my eyes, but I knew I was doing exactly the same thing just moments ago.
"Gonna go for any more fights after this?" he asked. Angela perked up at the question that she was too cowardly to ask himself. She was my manager and was altogether too nice to be a boxer's manager, even part time. I only hired her as my manager because she wanted a way into the club. Women couldn't get in unless they had a lot of money to burn, or joined the fight. She only took 5% of my cut, which was fair since she didn't need to do much.
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