Barocca vs Shannan Leigh
VS 
THREE-DAY WEAKENED (Bout 3)
Winner of Bout 1: Shannan Leigh, KO in Round 5
Winner of Bout 2: Barocca, KO in Round 5
Barocca awoke on Monday morning feeling better than she had in ages. Despite two brutal, bruising boxing battles in two days, her victory on Sunday put her on top of the world. By mid afternoon she’d recovered enough to treat Wahu, the masseur provided by their multi-millionaire host, to a marathon fucking session that left him drained and passed out. She had to have several maids haul his depleted carcass out of her suite.
After dinner, the Brazilian Bombshell summoned her corner attendant. Nuki had taken the initiative to bring along as assortment of sex toys, some of which were unfamiliar to the Amazon. Barocca observed that these Hawaiians take a backseat to no one when it comes to sexual experimentation.
In the opposite wing of the mansion, it was a slightly different story for Shannan Leigh. After her Saturday elation at knocking out the exalted exotic Latina in only five rounds, on Sunday she had suffered exactly the same fate only 24 hours later. When she was finally revived, the auburn-haired honey was in no mood to celebrate. All she wanted was a long, soaking bath to ease her aches and a relaxing massage to relieve her tensions.
Nobody could find that masseur until early evening and he’d seemed completely worn out. Shannan made it her business to put some life in him after what she had to admit was a first-rate massage. His expert hands made her tense muscles and sore joints pain-free once again. She thanked him by giving one of his joints her famous mouth massage, making that muscle tense enough to poke her several times over the next few hours before she finally fell asleep.
Now it was Monday morning, the day of the third and final bout of the three-day tournament. Both boxers had slept as though they had been drugged—in a sense, they had. Both had been pumped up with massive overdoses of sexual fervor that had put them into a deep sleep. Now they were ready for bear. A refreshing shower, some limbering-up exercises, and a light breakfast were all each needed before facing each other of the tie-breaking bout.
Each girl was getting paid $5,000 for each day she was at the mansion, whether she fought that day or not. When she won a match, she got an additional $25,000 winner’s bonus. The woman who won the most matches would also receive an additional $100,000. So far each had earned $20,000 in daily fees and $25,000 in winner’s bonuses, for a total of $45,000. Today, Monday would earn each another $5,000 daily fee, and one of them would collect $25,000 for winning today’s bout plus the $100,000 tournament winner’s bonus. For that kind of dough, they’d battle like wildcats.
At the stroke of 12 noon, the host tried to settle his spectator guests in his spacious private gym so he could introduce the comely combatants. “Well, friends, it’s all tied at one apiece. Everything has come down to this fight. It can’t get more exciting than this. And given our two busty boxing beauties, each a champion in her own right, could you expect anything different?” The fans roared their approval.
“Let’s start with yesterday’s winner, that one-woman riot from Rio, topping out at 5’10” and 135 pounds of pure femininity: BAROCCA, THE BRAZILIAN BOMBSHELL!”
Nuki parted the curtain at the entrance and Barocca stepped out draped in a hot pink cape. Raising her arms to acknowledge the cheers, she parted the cape to reveal matching hot pink foxies with white trim, white gloves, and white shoes over hot pink sweatsocks. She took her time walking majestically to the ring, drinking in the adulation of her fans and giving everyone a generous look at her fantastic body. Nuki parted the ropes for the luscious Latina and gave her a quick peck on the cheek as Barocca stepped through them.
“And here’s Saturday’s winner, that voluptuous veteran of countless combat encounters, from Manhattan, at 5’7” and tipping the scales at 128: SHANNAN ‘THE KNOCKOUT’ LEIGH!”
This time Wahu held the curtain aside as all eyes fixed on Shannan. She positively glowed in an iridescent lavender foxy boxing outfit with gold trim. Lavender socks offset the white gloves and shoes as the New Yorker bounded into the gym and circled the ring, her pink puppies frolicking on her chest. Leigh noticed the icy daggers coming from Barocca, alternating between Wahu and the purple-clad pugilist. “Aha, I’ve struck a nerve,” Shannan thought. “I’ll have to capitalize on that.”
As Shannan climbed through the ropes, Barocca stole some attention by having Nuki remove her cape with a theatrical flourish. Both boxers glared at each other with Cheshire grins that fooled nobody. The sparks that flew between almost crackled with tension and jealousy. Leigh hefted her hooters at the Bombshell. Barocca turned her back, grabbed the top ropes, and bent deeply from the waist, letting her ponderous pendulums sway to and fro for the appreciative crowd and mooning her opponent at the same time.
Mr. Moneybags stayed in the ring, apparently still having more to say. He held up his hand to silence the crowd, motioned the contenders to join him, and continued. “Today’s winner will collect a total $125,000. With that much cash at stake, I think we should ratchet up the action just a bit. So for this match, I’m relaxing the rules just a bit. Ladies, you’ll be allowed to kickbox this time. We all know you two can box, so we’re straying beyond the usual Marquis of Queensbury. And given the obvious animosity that has developed between you to, I’d think you’d welcome the opportunity to really tear each other apart.”
Shannan and Barocca turned their gaze toward each other. Inside, their stomachs had risen into their throats. After two straight days of pounding hell out of each other, neither wanted to engage in a real knock-down-drag-out melee. He was right about the animosity, though. Barocca was certain that Shannan had boinked Wahu. And Leigh was convinced that Barocca had got some nookie from Nuki. If the gloves came off—figuratively, not literally—who knew how much damage they would inflict on each other. But under the circumstances, neither woman could decline without being thought a coward. So with their best fake grins, the battling beauties nodded in agreement.
They started back to their corners when Barocca suddenly turned and leaped toward Shannan’s back with a flying dropkick. The crowd reacted vocally and the Knockout spun just milliseconds before the Bombshell’s feet made contact. Nothing worked out as Barocca had hastily planned. Instead of hitting Leigh in the back, one foot flattened her tantalizing tits but the other foot nailed her on the arm, which was raised defensively. While Shannan became the Manhattan Projectile and sailed through the ropes, her arm caught the Brazilian’s foot for just a moment. It was enough to cause Barocca to land badly—a three-point landing on her face and boobies.
ROUND 1:
Shannan hit the floor and rolled just as the bell sounded. She shook off the effects of the sneak attack and climbed to the edge of the ring. There was Barocca picking herself off the canvass and shaking her head. A spray of red—blood!—rained from her face. Well, Barocca had drawn first blood in this bout—her own! That crash landing had banged her beak hard enough t start a substantial flow. This was a first for Shannan; she’d never seen a fighter bloody her own nose before. She laughed as she crawled onto the platform and stepped inside the ring.
Barocca wiped her face with the back of her white glove and was horrified to see the stain she left. She bared her teeth at the laughing Leigh and snarled, “You won’t find it so funny when this fight is over, bitch.”
“How will you know?” Shannan shot back. “You’ll be unconscious by then, you cunt.” To prove her point, the redhead rocked Barocca with a right jab to her grimacing face, getting her own glove bloody, too.
For the first half of the round the gals punched each other fiercely. There was no grace or art to their fury, but there was plenty of anger and vehemence, like a barroom brawl but with padded gloves. The exertion got Barocca huffing and puffing and blowing blood from her nose every time she exhaled. Most of that went down her lips and chin and even onto her bouncing bazookas. A fair amount got on Shannan, too, who was delighted that none of it was hers.
At midpoint they remembered they could kick. Barocca got Leigh with a knee to her flat belly that knocked some of the wind out of the Knockout. As Shannan gasped for breath, Barocca waded in and pounded her pink puppies with a vengeance. The New Yorker’s defenses were insufficient to fend off the worst of the breast blows so she backpedaled to gain time to catch her breath. Delighted that she had her foe on the run, Barocca snuffed and swallowed a huge glob of blood that started her coughing.
As her opponent hacked and choked, Shannan managed to sneak in a couple of head shots that staggered the stripper but hardly slowed her down. Barocca wiped her face on her glove again just before launching that left into Leigh’s face. Now Shannan was as red-faced as her nemesis, but at least the blood was Barocca’s. The round ended with both gals drenched with blood and sweat (what, no tears?) and the spectators on their feet the entire time.
Back in their corners, the femme fighters let their attendants wipe them off—including their gloves. Nuki tilted the Brazilian’s head back and worked to stanch the flow of blood from both nostrils. Although the battle was even at this point, Shannan noted that Barocca looked like she’d been on the receiving end the whole time. It’s surprising how the blood from a minor facial wound looks so damaging. We pay so much attention to people’s faces that a little blood goes a long way.
ROUND 2:
Nuki’s ministrations seemed to have done the trick as the battling babes came straight at each other and began flailing away. They’d cooled off enough during the break to revert to effective boxing techniques again. Barocca was clearly targeting Leigh’s tits, sinking her red-and-white gloves into them at every opportunity. Shannan knew that she could just tap Barocca’s beak and restart the flow again. Nuki had also sponged off those cocoa cupcakes, whose nipples jutted defiantly as if to say, “Hit me. I dare you.” She did.
Now it was the Bombshell’s turn to backpedal as Shannan shook her with one thundering fist after another. Barocca was preoccupied with deflecting any face blows. Many of Leigh’s punches glanced off her, but enough of them landed full force to weaken the wanton warrior. She hoped Shannan would get cocky and do something ill-advised. She did.
Backing Barocca into a corner, Shannan stepped back to deliver a flat-footed kick to the battered black beauty. That’s when the Latina bolted from the confines of the corner, leaving Leigh’s kick to slam against the turnbuckle pad. That jolt sent a spasm of numbness through the length of the auburn Amazon’s leg. The Bombshell came around from the side with a punch that spun the Knockout. When Shannan tried to stagger to a halt, her injured leg gave out and she fell into the corner, hanging by her arms from the top rope. Barocca sank a three-punch combination into Shannan’s belly and the New Yorker sank to her butt.
The leering Latina couldn’t resist the temptation to stomp her enemy. Those flat-soled shoes crushed both boobies before Leigh rolled over to protect her chest. With Shannan curled in the fetal position, Barocca couldn’t hit her very well, so the tall tigress took a turn around the ring, strutting her stuff for the fans…but all the time keeping an eye on her opponent.
As Barocca approached at the end of her exhibitionist lap, Shanna sprang up, bent down, and rammed her shoulder into Barocca’s belly, bulldozing the Brazilian into the opposite corner. Leigh nailed her with a right uppercut to the pussy and Barocca gasped loudly as pain detonated throughout her entire body. Her knee involuntarily shot up and caught Shannan full in the face. The Knockout staggered back as Barocca dropped to her knees, unable to stand and cradling her crotch with both gloves.
When she looked up she saw that Leigh was bleeding from the corner of her mouth, apparently from that reflexive kneelift. There was fire in Shannan’s eyes as she approached and Barocca knew she was in no condition to defend herself. Like a miracle, the bell sounded. Shannan cursed, halted, and returned to her corner. Nuki came over and helped Barocca stand up and limp to her stool.
Shannan’s mouth cut wasn’t too bad; nothing a wet towel couldn’t fix, but now it was her own blood. The punishment the Knockout’s knockers had absorbed was beginning to show. Those already ample apples had begun to swell, thrusting her hard nipples forward. And Shannan’s pale skin had started to bruise badly, with dark patches emerging with each passing minute. Leigh’s belly and especially her breasts displayed a variety of colors attesting to her torment.
Barocca’s nose had survived a full round without further damage and her pussy pain was beginning to subside. Had Shannan punched her there bare-knuckled, it would have been vastly worse. At least the glove spread the force over a greater area. Since that foul shot didn’t stop the fight, hitting below the belt must have been one of the rules that wasn’t merely relaxed but repealed altogether. Both boxers gulped down several huge swigs of water and spit them out. Their bodies glistened with perspiration.
ROUND 3:
Shannan stormed out of her corner and greeted Barocca with a right cross that snapped the stripper’s head back. A follow-up left sent her black hair flying in all directions. Leigh glanced at her glove and spotted fresh blood. Sure enough, the Bombshell’s nose was bleeding again as the red river coursed its way down her pouty lips. Irate, the Brazilian blocked the next punch and pirouetted gracefully, landing her shoe upside Shannan’s head. That sent the sultry siren cartwheeling against the ropes.
Before Shannan could shake off her double vision, she felt her arm being yanked up. The Latina lifted Leigh over her shoulder and crashing to the canvas. When the Manhattan mauler was on her hands and knees, Barocca kicked her hard in the belly, flipping the fighter onto her back. As the black boob queen circled her prey, Shannan swept a leg out and toppled the tall titan.
Both women were now in separate heaps about six feet apart. Shannan cradled her belly and watched as yet another new bruise emerged—this time a big one. Barocca had landed hard on her tailbone, sending a lightning bolt of agony up her spine. She wiggled her toes inside her shoes and was relieved to note a feedback sensation. Barocca sat up in time to see Shannan again of all fours making her way toward the stunned stripper.
The Bombshell could move but she had no power behind her punches. Leigh was counting on that as she crawled next to Barocca and backhanded her across the face. The Latina’s reply was little more than a slap. Shannan grabbed Barocca’s head and pulled her face between the redhead’s tits. The Brazilian was helpless against this humiliating display. She felt the blood from her nose being smeared all over her face by her opponent’s juggs and knew she’d be a mess when Shannan finally released her. She also felt the pain dissipating from her arms, a sure sign that her strength was returning.
Squeezing Barocca’s head with her gloves, Shannan pulled it out of her bosom to admire her handiwork. As she’d hoped, the Bombshell’s face was a gory sight, her gorgeous features smeared from ear to ear, blood even in her hair. Leigh began a sadistic chuckle, but just then Barocca snapped her head forward out of her grip and head-butted Shannan’s boobs. The Knockout’s ass hit the canvas and Barocca got to her knees for a little payback.
Now it was her turn to clamp Shannan’s head between her bloody gloves and drag the redhead to her knees. The New York babe was still cradling her throbbing bobbers when the brunette unloaded a vicious right across her face. That sat Shannan back down on her ankles, but only for a moment. Again Barocca picked her up but this time Leigh hooked a right uppercut just below the Brazilian’s ribcage. The resultant snort blew a mist of blood into Shannan’s face and she wiped her eyes hastily, giving the busty black babe a few precious moments to recover. Leigh blocked Barocca’s next attack and went for her hapless nose again. The red-faced vixen saw it coming and turned away in the nick of time, suffering only a glancing scuff to her cheek.
Still on their knees, they hammered away at each other like this for the remainder of the round. Their punches were taking their toll. Shannan’s tits were now so bruised and discolored that the matched her lavender foxies. Barocca appeared to have dipped her face in strawberry jam. In actuality she hadn’t lost much blood, but to the casual observer she looked like one of the victims in a slasher movie. It had by now dripped onto her pink trunks, too. Twice they fell into clinches, both times to avoid falling over. As the bell ended the round, the listless Latina landed a lethal left onto Shannan’s right eye and it immediately started to swell shut.
Nuki had the foresight to get more towels and water to wash off Barocca’s blood and the results were a vast improvement: Barocca seemed human again. Shannan had not escaped unscathed. Besides her shiner, her mouth was bleeding once more; same corner but a thicker stream. She washed the iron taste from her mouth and vowed to put her tormentor away for good this round. Then she thought, “That black bitch is probably making herself the exact same promise.”
ROUND 4:
Shannan Leigh reminded Barocca of Popeye in several when she charged out of her corner. First there was the squint, with her right eye puffed up so badly she could scarcely see out of it. That would affect her depth perception. Second was that trickle of blood from her mouth that just wouldn’t stop leaking; that suggested Popeye’s pipe. And third was the high kick Shannan shot to Barocca’s head; she must have gulped down some spinach just before the bell rang.
The brunette had flinched as she saw the foot coming at her. It missed its target—undoubtedly her nose—but caught her just above her eyes. Thank goodness that part of the human skull is think and bony. The impact snapped her head back and bounced her off the ropes—and into the waiting arms of her nemesis. Shannan clinched her and popped her skull again with a solid headbutt that made Barocca dizzy. Her knees buckled and she slid down her assailant’s body. The Bombshell’s boobs hung up on the Knockout’s knockers, got pushed up on her chest almost to her sagging chin, and finally slipped past these obstacles. She felt her face glide between the glistening globes just before she blacked out.
The first thing she heard was the crowd chanting, “…3…4…” and she knew she had to act fast or be counted out. Still in something of a stupor, Barocca glanced around until she saw the ropes…or what she was pretty sure were the ropes. It was all rather fuzzy. She rolled in that direction and sent up an exploratory arm in search of—that’s it! She felt the two lower ropes. The count had reached “7” as she clambered up the vinyl-covered cables and stood, only slightly swaying on her feet. Her fans cheered, but she also detected an undertone of disappointment from Shannan’s devotees.
The purple-clad pugilist roared back, determined to finish Barocca off now, while she was most vulnerable. The Brazilian welcomed her with an upthrust foot that blasted Leigh’s lower abdomen and crotch. The impact pushed Barocca back against the ropes, Shannan stumbled and fell, and the brunette toppled on top of her. The crowd immediately took up the count again, but both brawlers got back up before they reached “4”. They cocked their fists and began slowly circling, but not within striking distance. The warring women were buying time and planning strategies.
Shannan’s smile tipped Barocca off that something wasn’t right. Then she felt a big wet glob drop onto her cheek, followed a moment later by another on her other cheek. Whatever it was closed her left eye. She wiped it with the back of her glove and saw it was blood. Leigh’s kick must have opened a nasty cut over her eyes. Another wipe cleared her vision somewhat. Now she could see Shannan closing in for the kill.
The Knockout’s next punch made an audible “splat” when it connected to the Bombshell’s bloody face and the viscous red fluid flew everywhere. Barocca fought back with renewed fury, showering Shannan’s head with a flurry of lefts and rights. The brunette absorbed quite a few blows herself, but it was the redhead who took the brunt of the beating. The New Yorker was bleeding profusely from both corners of her mouth and Barocca had managed to sock her other eye and start it closing. The Brazilian was constantly drawing aside the red curtain that fell continually across her eyes, to say nothing about her now constant nosebleed. It was the blind beating the blind.
As the end of the round neared, Leigh launched a hard knee into the taller girl’s right tit as Barocca folded, flattening it painfully. She retaliated with a devastating pussy punch that actually managed to pop Shannan’s eyes open for an instant before the snapped shut again. But the redhead got the final say when she kicked Barocca in the crotch and lifted the lovely Latina clear off her feet and dropped her in a heap near Leigh’s corner. The Bombshell was knocked out cold, but the bell saved her at the count of “5”. Shannan shouted “Fuck!” and stomped off to her corner. Nuki couldn’t lift Barocca’s dead weight and had to drag her by her feet to her corner, leaving a streaky blood trail from her head and gloves diagonally across the ring.
It took half the break period to revive the bombed-out Bombshell, who looked like she’d been rescued from a horrific traffic accident. The Knockout faired only slightly better. Her face and juggs were so swollen and discolored that they seemed about to burst. Shannan could barely see through the slits between her eye lids, and even that was obscured by her long lashes. Barocca’s vision was fine if she could keep the blood out of her eyes. That cut on her brow was long and deep and fortunately mostly concealed by her eyebrows. With a little time, the scar wouldn’t show. But even so, if it cost her this fight and this tournament, would the Amazonian Amazon be able to show her face again in public?
ROUND 5:
On Saturday and Sunday, this had been the final round, and the spectators had bet heavily that today’s fight would also be decided in the fifth. Given the brutal beatings the girls had inflicted on each other so far, that was the smart bet. As severe as the punishment had been before, no one had seen either of these two champions suffer as they had today.
At the bell, Shannan stood but didn’t move from her corner at first. She had to admit a shiver of fear arced through her at the sight—what little she had left—of her opponent coming at her. Barocca’s snarling expression was frightful in and of itself. Nuki hadn’t had time to clean her up. Add to that the sheer hatred radiating from her. Moreover, the bloody brunette wasn’t circling, she was plodding zombie-like directly toward Shannan. Doesn’t this woman know when she’s beaten?
Leigh stepped up to meet her foe and blocked a right before spinning Barocca with her won right cross. The Latina came around with a backhand that raked across Shannan’s mashed melons and reignited the fire in them. She pancaked one of Barocca’s bazookas, both of which were only slightly swollen and quite tender. The Brazilian’s uppercut straightened Shannan to her tip-toes. She swung a leg into the brunette’s side and took a glove in her eye in return.
The crowd couldn’t believe that these two tigresses still had so much fight in them. With all their combined open cuts, blood flew everywhere with each face punch. They kept this up for half the round, each scoring an occasional knockdown but neither delivering a true knockout blow. The black babe bent and charged the white woman, using her shoulder to lift Leigh and sit her on the top rope. Her intent was unclear, but as Shannan steadied herself so she wouldn’t topple backwards, she inadvertently kicked Barocca’s tits.
Shannan caught a lucky break when Barocca’s blood again dumped onto her eyes and she had to divert her gloves from fighting to clearing her sight. Leigh jumped at the golden opportunity and decked her with a tremendous right. Barocca flopped onto her back spread-eagle. She was still semi-conscious and moving slightly…and completely at Shannan’s mercy.
Shannan strolled to Barocca’s side…paused…and dropped both knees onto Barocca’s belly. A plume of blood spouted from the Bombshell’s mouth, splattering Leigh’s left side. The Knockout repositioned herself by squatting on Barocca’s hips and proceeded to amuse herself and her fans by raining blows onto her defenseless victim’s ravaged face and bountiful bosom. Each head punch sent a blood spray to the left or right, leaving a crimson crescent on the canvas on either side of the Brazilian’s face. But amazingly she remained conscious throughout the ordeal.
Shannan couldn’t understand why she couldn’t finish off Barocca. Compared to this fight, she’d KOed the cocoa cutie relatively easily only two days ago. Any one of these punches should have put out her lights. Well, she could keep this up as long as necessary to—
CLANG! Round 5 was over. With an exasperated sigh, Shannan dismounted her flaccid foe and trudged flat-footed back to her stool. With a heart-rending groan, Barocca rolled with agonizing slowness onto her side and then to her hands and knees. Blood dripped from her brow and nose. Then she crawled like a baby to her corner where Nuki helped her onto her perch. No sponges or towels yet; this time Nuki simply poured the soothing water directly onto Barocca’s face and torso. She was aghast at her lady’s appearance but admired her stamina and will to persevere.
ROUND 6:
The bets had doubled during the break. The smart money said Barocca would go down—and stay down—before the halfway point. Only the Brazilian Bombshell’s most devoted fans kept their faith, but it was wavering badly. Shannan had circled halfway across the ring before Barocca even stood up, hooking her elbows on the top rope for stability. Her head dropped back, exposing her throat like a submissive dog does when faced with a superior fighter.
Leigh closed in for the sure kill. At that moment Barocca reared back and swung her legs up and wide. She scissored Shannan’s neck and twisted the Manhattan Miss off her feet. Before Leigh could rise, the Latina landed both knees on her lower back, right on her kidneys. The redhead collapsed with a scream. Barocca helped her prey up by applying a forward chancery with her left and hooking five quick rights to Shannan’s belly and boobs. Leigh’s legs gave out and she dropped to her knees, dangling by her neck that was securely clamped by her opponent’s hold.
Barocca was exhausted and fading fast. She had to make the most of her remaining time. She hauled up the pain-wracked redhead and draped her arms over the rope. Shannan’s head hung low as she winced and gasped, her chest heaving, blood dripping from her mouth. The Bombshell reached far back with her left and drove it deep into Leigh’s belly. A burst of blood spewed from Shannan’s mouth onto Barocca’s trunks and thighs. One arm fell off the rope and the redhead spiraled down.
The brunette caught her and gently—almost lovingly—raised the redhead’s chin with her left. Then she brought a powerful right rocketing up from down around her ankles to put the New York Knockout to sleep. As the blood-stained glove smashed into Leigh’s face, a red spray that resembled an Independence Day fireworks display exploded. Shannan crashed face-first to the canvas and didn’t move.
Barocca fell onto the corner ropes and waited out the interminable ten-count. She knows she looked like shit. If her nose wasn’t broken, it was a miracle. Her boobs were swollen and throbbed, but not as much as Shannan’s. She could feel her lips swelling, but that would pass; they may even look more attractive that until they returned to normal. As for the cut over her eyes, well if that required plastic surgery, she knew the best doctor. Their multi-millionaire host had agreed to foot the bill for any post-fight medical services the ladies may require. And Barocca knew she could offer the plastic surgeon her own post-op services to insure he’d do his best—even if it took several months to pay him off. He had chiseled good looks and was hung quite generously. Maybe he’d gone under the knife himself.
As the crowd roared “…9…10!”, Barocca raised her arm in triumphed and her legs folded beneath her. She sank to the canvas in the corner and waited to be carried away, on a stretcher, if necessary. She knew Shannan would need one. Instead, several of her fans jumped into the ring and pulled her to her feet. One got his arm around her and hung on by clamping his mitt on her aching right breast and giving it a long-dreamt-for squeeze. Some kissed her, ignoring the blood that transferred to their faces. She tried to grin and share their jubilation, but the room spun and she passed out.
By the time both boxers awoke hours later, the society spectators had all left, returning home to await the next exhilarating spectacle. She and Shannan stayed on—at $5,000 per day apiece—for another week of recuperation. Their host had decided to award Shannan a $50,000 “loser’s bonus” for putting up such an exciting battle and for almost—almost—beating Barocca. Well, Leigh did knock her out in Round 4 and would have won if Barocca hadn’t been saved by the bell.
Both babes required surprisingly little medical care. Shannan’s swelling subsided by mid week and she picked up a fantastic suntan at the various Hawaiian beaches where she recuperated. Barocca’s nose was not broken and the cut on her brow was closed without stitches and so would not leave a noticeable scar. And of course, The Latina had her own permanent suntan, but she visited the beaches just the same, relishing the attentive glances and stares she drew. By Thursday the girls were sufficiently recovered and presentable to entertain a various members of the mansion staff—male and female—as well as a few attractive lovers they met on the beaches.
As they flew back to the mainland, the girls reflected on the fortunes they’d made for three days work and what amounted to a paid vacation in the Hawaii paradise. They’d worked harder than ever before for that money. Each wondered if she’d be willing to do it again.
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