Mira Sorvino vs. Kate Winslet (That Sinking Feeling) by S.P.Eider 24-Apr-00

No one knew why Mira Sorvino disliked Kate Winslet so much. The truth was no-one dared ask the feisty blonde. It came as no surprise to anyone when Sorvino challenged Winslet to a boxing match, though many were amazed when Kate accepted the challenge. Most people's perception of Kate was that of the stereotypical English rose, beautiful and delicate. Needless to say, they were half right.

The venue was chosen and an understandably large crowd had turned out to witness the conflict. In the ring, both fighters stood in their respective corners, clearly eager to get started. Kate's full figure was barely contained by the cherry red leotard she wore, her 8 oz gloves and boots were of a similarly iridescent red. Across the ring, Mira had clearly tried to outdo her rival before combat had even commenced. Her own outfit was a high cut golden swimsuit, it caught the light in the dimly lit arena and amplified it from her superb physique like a shining beacon of beauty. Mira smiled a mocking smile at Kate as there eyes met across the canvas. Kate returned the smile and winked at Mira.

Standing up from her corner stool, Kate removed her red boxing gloves. With her hands now free, Kate began to slide the scarlet costume slowly down her body. A silence descended over the hall so quiet you could hear a pin being picked up. Every single pair of eyes in the auditorium was on Kate as the brown haired beauty continued to sensuously ease herself from her outfit. Kate moved at the speed of ketchup from a bottle, allowing the crowd to take in each millimeter of flesh as more of her soft pink skin became visible. By now her stomach was as visible as her beautiful bosom, her midriff smooth...defined....perfection.

The red costume continued to glide down the battling belle's body, now passing the point of no return. The stillness that pervaded the arena was broken by a hundred gasps of breath as a moment of absolute anticipation presented its reward to a yearning crowd. The red material slid past Kate's athletic hips and revealed at the center of her body (and the center of everyone's attention) her lush, dark thatch. Nothing Leonardo Di Caprio could sketch could capture the beauty of the moment. Kate's raven pussy was an enticing sight, a mass of brown bushy hair protecting the treasures within.

The crowd's silence became a roar of approval as Kate stepped out of the now redundant outfit. Naked, except for her red boots, the English woman's divine physique was raising a lot more than just temperatures in the watching men. Picking up her discarded costume, she tossed it into an eager crowd of teenagers, all of whom were baying like wolves and grabbed at the priceless garment like bridesmaids reaching for a tossed bouquet. Back in the ring, Kate put her gloves back on and approached the center of the ring, her timing coinciding perfectly with the bell for the first round.

As the round began, Kate allowed herself a smile. With one act, she had taken control of the match, scoring a point over her blonde rival without even throwing a punch. Removing her costume to fight nude had not been an act of mere titillation. Kate had asserted control over the fight, her exposure an unspoken statement that said anything Mira could do, she could do better. And at this stage, no-one in the crowd was likely to disagree. Furthermore, Mira was not in a position to emulate her foe - to have removed her golden outfit now would have seemed desperate, a shallow attempt to win back a crowd won over by the site of an exquisite bare body. When the fight resumed it was the naked brunette who was in the ascendancy, both mentally and physically.

Still distracted by Kate's crowd-pleasing display of flesh, Mira practically walked into a powerful uppercut to the chin, delivered with assurance by the birthday suited beauty. Mira's head snapped back as Kate's red glove crunched into the blonde woman's unguarded jaw and was quickly followed by two fast, effective jabs to the face. Mira stumbled back under the force of the blows but Kate ensured the blonde was never more than an arm's length away, delivering an awesome right cross to the cheek of Ms Sorvino that threatened to loosen teeth.

Knocked aside by the blow, Mira straightened up uncertain of her bearings. Kate soon clarified them for her with an unstoppable left cross that thudded into the blonde battlers cheek like a demolition ball. Mira's head flew sideways, spitting blood as she did so. Doing her best to put up some kind of resistance, Mira lifted her gloves for the first time in the round. She might as well have put a paper bag on her head for the protection her weakened guard offered her. Without breaking stride, Kate buried a clinically efficient punch deep into Mira's midsection, the soft flesh capitulating beneath the piercing fist of the English woman. Mira's hands dropped quickly to her winded stomach but she had less than a second to expel a gut full of air when Kate resumed her attack on Mira's bloodied face.

Three successive jabs snapped into the face of Ms Sorvino, each bringing a weak cry of pain from the blonde as her features were pummeled mercilessly. Kate was relentless, driving punch after punch into the face of the faltering Ms Sorvino. As she continued her assault, Kate's naked body began to develop a rhythm, one that was almost sensual in its execution. First, the swift arc of each arm as they swung towards their target, each gloved fist cutting through the air like meteors. Then came the point of impact as glove hit face, a sudden jolt that reverberated throughout Kate's flawless form causing her heaving bosom to bounce pleasurably in perfect synchronicity with each punishing strike. This was not poetry in motion...this was sexuality in motion, a beautiful woman revealing both her beauty and her power, at the expense of a rival. For many in the audience, there could be no greater sight.

A lone fan in the crowd screamed his encouragement to the battered blonde. Unfortunately, his words succeeded only in distracting Mira more so than she already was. As he cried out, a dazed Mira half-turned to identify the source of the voice. Such an opening was a gift wrapped Christmas present for a fighter such as Kate Winslet. Targeting the exposed side of her opponent's face, Kate took the time to draw her fist back before unleashing a (quite literally) stunning punch squarely onto Mira's cheek.

Red leather thumped into pink skin with a thunderous smack and Mira's face seemed almost to vibrate as the impact of the blow washed across her already bloodied face like a tidal wave. Mira's body was sent spinning, such was the force of the collision, and her subsequent slump to the canvas had the clamoring crowd on its feet.

The ref. was there in an instant, standing over the downed blonde and beginning the inevitable count.


Mira clambered to a kneeling position, wiping her bloody nose down her arm and leaving a trail of claret along it she did so.


The buxom blonde was furious, as much with herself as with Kate. She had let herself get distracted and Kate had made the most of it, humiliating the American actress in front of the entire audience.

Facial scars aside, Kate's onslaught had caused Mira little significant damage. As hard as the blows had connected, their real power had been in the speed at which they were executed. Though effective in the short term, they would never have been able to put Mira down for long, a case of quantity over quality. Mira soon shook off their effects and was on her feet at the count of eight. The ref. backed away to a safe distance and once again the two fighters approached one another.

"You won't get up again next time," said the brown haired nude.

"You got that right," responded Mira. "Cause I ain't gonna be the one kissing canvas next time."

"You think?" sneered Kate.

"I know," said Mira. Instantly the verbal sparring made way for the real thing as Kate tried to catch the blonde belle off-guard with a swift and deadly uppercut. Unfortunately for Kate, Mira was both swifter and deadlier. Stepping back just enough to see Kate's glove sail harmlessly past her chin, Mira targeted the naked brunette's bare midsection and blasted her right glove deep into Kate's gut. Kate doubled over Mira's incisive fist, expelling air with a clearly audible wheeze. Removing her glove from the pit of Kate's stomach, Mira stood impatiently over the gasping brunette, eager for another bite (or more specifically, thump) at the cherry.

Patience was never one of Mira' strong points and it was little more than five seconds after her initial strike that Mira' overwhelming desire to hurt the brunette bitch got the better of her. Knowing full well (but no longer caring) that the referee was watching her every move, Mira spitefully lifted her knee into the stooped face of Kate Winslet. The accompanying 'crack' as bone hit bone was a sound none in the audience would ever forget. Kate snapped upright, her misshapen nose now a similar shade of red to that of Mira's.

Tumbling backwards, Kate's arc of descent was halted only by the ropes that stretched taut as she fell onto them. She hung there for little more than a second, hoping to catch her breath. Unfortunately the ropes, along with Einstein, had other ideas. For every action, there must be an equal and opposite reaction. As tough as Kate was, even she couldn't argue with the laws of physics. Like a stone from a catapult, Kate was flung forward as the ropes sprung back into place. Unable to halt her momentum, Kate's muddled mind suddenly conjured up a seemingly extraneous image - that of Wile E Coyote, launching himself from a catapult in the hope of catching the Road Runner but instead crashing into a large mountain. As Kate floundered towards the waiting blonde assassin, Mira quickly dropped to one knee and drew back her right glove. Timing her strike to perfection, Mira powered her fist forward with all her strength just as the brunette came into range.

There was very little noise at the moment of impact. When Mira's glove powered up and into Kate's approaching pussy, the muffled sound of red leather against dark bush seemed too quiet to have done any real damage. Kate's face however, told another story. At first she appeared shocked, aware of the pain but unable to process the information her nerve endings were sending her. She stood utterly still at the center of the ring and looked down at Mira. Mira grinned and forced her gloved fist higher up between the brunette girl's legs. It was to be the straw that broke the camel's crotch. The sensation of Mira's invasive glove against the inside of her thighs and then against her tender pussy quickly restored Kate's absent perception.

The pain hit with all the force of a nuclear attack - without the four minute warning. Kate screamed in sheer torment as her love-nest was suddenly transformed into a mushroom cloud of agony. Mira's punch had already been powerful but to have literally ran into it was more than most people could take. Even Kate. Her legs gave out instantly as waves of nausea-inducing pain spread throughout her lower body and she fell awkwardly to the mat, clutching her groin and sobbing gently.

The referee looked at Mira a moment, considering his options. Erring on the side of caution, he began to count out the groaning Brit, despite the decidedly non-Queensbury strike that had put her down. Mira raised her hands above her head and walked around the ring, enjoying the applause and adulation of a satisfied audience. So caught up was she in the moment, she barely noticed the ref. getting to 'nine' - and then stopping.

Mira turned and her eyes opened wide in amazement. Because, and as is so often the case in these circumstances, the unexpected had occurred. To an equal mixture of gasps and cheers, Kate "Titanic' Winslet rose to her feet. It was not a steady rise, the battered brunette was clearly in a lot of pain, particularly below her non-existent belt. Kate straightened up shakily, as though uncertain, not of only her left and right but her up and down also. A trickle of blood ran from the actress's misshapen nose and her left eye was completely closed.

With her one good eye, Kate stared at Mira with a resolve forged in cast iron. Had this been a movie starring either of the beautiful actresses, this would surely have been the scene when Kate made her stirring comeback, imbued by cheers from the crowd as she landed punch after punch on the defenseless blonde. Unfortunately this was real life and reality makes no quarter for heroic comebacks.

Mira was well area of Kate's less than solid standing and realized the brunette would probably go down with a quick tap to the head. To a woman like Mira however, this information was less than irrelevant. Her credo was, "If you can hurt 'em, do hurt 'em."

Wasting no time, Mira moved in close to the vulnerable brunette and began to sink punches into Kate's stomach, a right, a left, another right. Each muffled impact brought a grunt of pain from the naked actress and caused her body to jolt suddenly with every strike. Mira maintained her close proximity at all times, lifting the blows into Kate's gut from her well developed shoulders.

Every punch forced Kate further and further backwards and before too long Kate found herself with her back against the corner post, her arms grasping the ropes on either side and leaving her entire body open to attack. In her stunned state however, the ropes were to offer no sanctity. Thump after thump rained onto Kate's midsection and Kate knew she had to act fast. Struggling to think clearly through the punishing assault her body was taking Kate planned her next move. With her options limited, Kate used the one weapon at her disposal. She raised her knee hard and fast, connecting with a loud squelching thud between the legs of her aggressor.

The color drained from Mira's cheeks faster than Homer can down a Duff. She was stopped cold, as though even the simplest of bodily functions like standing and breathing had suddenly become complex mathematical formulae. Barely able to remain vertical and still considerably punch drunk from her recent assault, Kate did not waste her small window of opportunity. In fact, she once more kneed the dazed blonde right in the center of her window of opportunity and the one time Replacement Killer sank slowly to the canvas, emitting a small gurgling noise.

Kate smiled with relief and looked down on her beaten foe. Mira was still conscious and clearly in a great deal of pain. Dropping to her knees, Kate straddled the moaning blonde, allowing her weight to rest heavily on Mira's chest whilst her knees pinned the helpless woman's arms.

"I just want you to remember," said Kate, drawing back a gloved fist and looking into the nervous face before her, "this was your idea!"

Kate's glove smashed into Mira's unprotected face like a crash test dummy through a windscreen. The blonde star's already bloodied face was knocked sideways with the impact, a fresh spray of claret exploding from her nose. Clearly a lover of symmetry, Kate repeated the blow, cracking a right cross into Mira's cheek that shook the very canvas beneath the pair. This was followed by another merciless strike. And another. And another.

By now, Mira looked less like the ditzy blonde at a high school reunion and more like Robert De Niro in Raging Bull. Suddenly Kate gasped as though noticing Mira's injuries for the first time.

"Oh dear," Kate said in mock sympathy. "You really should put something on that. I've got just the thing!"

Mira's weak protests could be heard for approximately three seconds before Kate's pubic thatch had totally covered her mouth and nose. From this point on her cries sounded as though they were coming from someone bound and gagged in the next room as the full weight of Kate Winslet's pussy began to grind over her battered face. Kate placed her gloved hands at the back of her blonde victim's head and lifted it slightly from the canvas, an inch higher to the casual observer, the difference between mild enjoyment and pure pleasure to Kate herself. Mira's nose was deep in the English woman's vagina and Kate began to echo the moans of her smothered captive, but while Mira's lament was one of humiliation, Kate's was a chorus of utter victory.

The steady rise and fall of Kate's voluptuous thighs grew faster by the second and so her breath became quicker and quicker. In stark contrast, Mira could now not draw breath, save for the musty smell of her conqueror's love box. When the moment of ecstasy finally came for Kate, her thighs tightened around the sides of Mira's head in an involuntary spasm. For one brief, perfect moment, Mira Sorvino existed only within the confines of Kate Winslet's sexuality, encased on all sides by Kate's unbeatable physique and wet with the brunette's triumph.

When the moment passed and all was again quiet, Kate rose from her prey and left the ring. Mira lay there for some time, staring straight upwards to the lights of the arena, nor wanting to face any of the crowd who had witnessed her debasement.

As the auditorium emptied, opinions about Ms Winslet had changed. Many still perceived her as an English rose.

Now, they knew she had thorns.