Prize Fighter

"POP! POP! POP!" Were the only sounds in the room. Nothing gentle about any of that, I was trying to punch him in the chest and he was doing the same thing. When he punched at my chest, I blocked that and punched back. Both of us were now flat footed, using just our arms. Right, left, right, left, faster and faster until it all became a blur.

Those are actually just timing exercises, facing each other and increasing the speed until one person can't keep up and the blows get through, backing the loser off the mat.

Up until that day, I was the one that always stepped back when the blows began to come so fast I couldn't counter them.

This time Tim was the one to finally step back off the mat.

He just grinned at me. Then he asked me to be on his team, it seemed they had a match with another club, full contact. I had sat and watched a few of those, nobody was ever kidding around.

They said it was scored by points but the idea was to cold cock the other guy.

Our team did all right I guess, no thanks to me. They put me in against another 200 pound fellow, a black guy that was maybe 20 or so.

He won on points but I was still on my feet at the end of the match, then the guy came over and hugged me and told me I was pretty tough old bastard.

His eye was swollen almost shut, but then so was mine.

+++

Why did I go to all that much trouble? Invest over an entire fucking year learning how to fight, get in shape?

The one goon at my ex wife's house that day was her redheaded brother, bad enough he and the other assholes kicked my fanny, but the brother spit in my face while I lay on my back.

In the background, I had heard Patty's laugh.

Some things a man just does not forget. That was inside my mind, like a damned tumor or something.

The fucking money? I just didn't give a shit about that, it was just money and I could make some more.

He spit on me, and I had no way to stop him or do anything about it. Nothing like that was ever going to happen to me, ever again!

I didn't date, I didn't go out at all. I used to hang out in bars sometimes, drinking, smoking, having fun. There was none of that, all I did was train.

That all became a crazy obsession. Every night after work, I went home, showered and went to the gym. After a couple of months, Tim gave me a key so I could go down there on Sundays.

No women, I did not like women at all. Well, not completely true, there was one gal named Lee that for a $50 bill would let me do about anything I wanted to.

Barely 21, she had long dark hair and was nicely built and she fit right in at the studio. It was obvious she liked big strong men, and it was an easy way for her to pay the bills.

She said that she charged everybody else $100, but she liked me best of all. That's what she told me anyway. I just figured she told everyone that.

I did notice that she was often not too far away, and when one of the guys came over to her and whispered, she would send me a sidelong glance before going off with them.

Later she would come back to the gym and watch me work out, looking exactly the same as before. I did notice that not one time did she ever leave with anyone again on the same night. Some nights she never left with anyone at all, just shaking her head no when one of them would come over to her.

Just once I asked her after she came back from whatever she was doing with a client, she shook her head and told me no. Then she looked down, acting unhappy. I just shrugged, finding that odd.

Lee really was a pretty little thing, nice tight body and she kept herself in shape. Tim let her use the equipment any time she wanted to at no charge, the truth there is that Lee was just making her way in the world and having an available lady around was good for business.

Other than that, there was only me and the anger, getting hit in the face, stomach, arms, kicked in the head felt good to me and made me more determined. I would hit hard after that, so much so that quite a few of the other guys refused to spar with me.

I wanted to go up there, beat the shit out of Patty's brother and her new boyfriend, maybe with some luck find the two goons, then wrap my fingers around Patty's neck and squeeze.

The truth? I wasn't even admitting it to myself, but I loved the God damned bitch.

I wanted her, I wanted to strangle her at the same time.

Crazy? Damned right that is crazy, no way in hell will anyone ever understand that feeling unless you have it happen to you.

We read in the papers how some stupid bastard finally gives up, takes a gun and shoots his former woman and then sticks the barrel in his own mouth.

That could just as easily have been me for about a year or two.

+++

I didn't though, instead somehow I ended up working for Tim as one of his instructors. It was a big cut in pay but I didn't give a shit, I hated driving the damned forklift every day anyway, good teamsters job be damned.

Then the matches were fun, and somehow I won a few in a row, even had a rematch with the tall black guy and I won that. He was pretty good and got in his licks, and he was still standing at the end of the match.

Tim and I did quite a few of those practice sessions on the mat, but he could no longer stand up to me.

I was heavier, stronger, and every bit as fast.

The sneers I got from the body builder types early on all stopped.

I was now one of them.

I remember the day I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I did not even recognize the man looking back. My body was long and lean, rippling with muscles but the loose kind, not the over built look that serious body builders get.

I had become a fighter.

The shaved bald head and rough short beard added to the animal appearance, the features had become far more rugged, from constantly being hit.

Hell, I looked just plain mean, even to me.

One other thing I can say is a fact. Hard exercise is good for the love muscle, about once or twice a week I would look over at Lee and smile. She knew by then, and would smile back.

It was almost like she was sometimes waiting for me to ask?

Those sessions with her were amazing, how she could make me climax several times instead of just all at once I don't know, but she could.

Sex with Lee was very nearly as good as it had been with Patty, I found myself comparing them mentally a few times.

A few times we went to eat together, that was almost like a date but not really.

She told me she really liked me because I always took my time and made sure she enjoyed it too.

Being with Patty had taught me a few things about making love, I put it to good use. But sex with a hooker isn't making love, not really, but somehow it felt that way to me.

I began to spend the night with her instead of getting up and leaving, she acted like she didn't mind that at all. Many times we fucked again in the morning, those were fun times.

But she also always collected the $50, and in advance, too.

I wondered about that, no way could she live on what she was doing, so I asked her flat out one day.

"I work in a dress shop during the day, it doesn't pay enough but I like doing it. This...doing...doing guys...is just a sideline is all. I wouldn't even do it if I had..." Then she looked at me and blushed.

A dress shop? That was probably the last thing I would have expected.

+++

When the phone rang one day at the studio, I answered it expecting a customer. Tim was busy working with several chubby ladies, we got quite a few of them in for evening classes.

Worried about how to defend themselves if some guy tried to grab them and rape them I guess, fat chance of that from the looks of some of them.

But what the hell, it was revenue.

Anyway, the guy calling wanted to know if I would like a match. It seemed they had a show going on downtown, cage fighting. I had watched some of that on TV but it hadn't even crossed my mind except for when they held up some guy's hand after a match I would be thinking I could whip his ass.

Not something I had any plans of doing at all, but they had a last minute drop out at a big show downtown and needed me to fill in.

Yea, sure. I was all set to refuse until the guy told me they would pay two grand for me to show up and fight.

"Win or lose." He said.

Two grand? That was a solid half dozen house payments, I was making them OK but it was on the tight side.

+++

That is how I ended up standing there being introduced as "Hammerfist Hanson". Where in the hell they came up with that name beats the hell out of me but I didn't give a shit.

Two grand.

Somehow I had a record of six wins with no defeats, and the tattooed animal glaring at me from across the ring was thirteen and two.

He looked to be mean also.

I was flat on my back in two seconds with the motherfucker elbowing me. I had seen stuff like that on TV but hadn't really done much of it.

He had his god damned knee jammed in my crotch and he stunk to high heaven. He jammed his fucking hand in my face, digging at me, I tasted blood and my head swam. Then he started hitting at me while I tried to pull his head down and avoid the blows.

Five long minutes of that shit, I was bleeding from a dozen different directions when the round ended.

Now I was mad.

"Don't let the asshole get on top of you!" I heard Tim yelling from outside the ring.

Which is exactly what the mother fucker did. He kept jamming his forearm against my throat, too, making it hard to breath.

More blood, but that made me slippery, I squirmed and somehow got loose. I think I got loose anyway, maybe they stood us up, I still am not sure about that.

The guy came at me, ducking down to reach for my legs again, I met him halfway with a knee to the face. He staggered a bit, his head rolled back and his arms came up to protect himself from me swinging at him. He took a couple of steps back and tried to charge again.

Then his head started to come back up just as my heel came down and hit him right on the forehead.

The next one came in a circle and got him flat along side the neck and down he went. I timed that one on the button, snapping my lower leg forward at the knee just as the upper arch of my foot made contact.

I was going to jump on him and return the favor of a few elbows but I could see there really was no need at all.

There was a bunch of noise and cheers, then they held up my hand.

"Hey, we can use you." The guy holding my arm up said, at least that is what I think he said.

I limped out of there, two grand in my pocket and a foot that hurt like hell.

+++

Train and fight, train and fight. One animal after another, at one point I watched a rerun on cable TV and almost didn't recognize myself.

I learned how to choke people out after some prick did that to me one night, some of the matches were just ground and pound.

The competition very quickly figured out that I could kick a six foot tall man in the head hard enough to knock them out, using my heels, and with either leg.

They also figured out quickly that one of my punches straight down the middle with either hand would spoil their day also.

So nearly without fail they tried to take me off my feet, or stay as close as they could to me, pull my head down and bring up a knee.

I lost just one that way, saw stars another day and got choked out from behind by a simple rear naked choke.

If you can't breathe, you can't fight, that is simple.

That guy made my list and fell to me just six months later. He made the mistake of dropping his head on the way in, exactly like he did the first time.

The first time he made it, expecting my snap kick so he grabbed my leg, got me down and proceeded to maul me pretty good.

The second time he met a right uppercut, then one of my now famous side kicks. I doubt he even remembered hitting the floor.

In the fighting circles, "Hammerfist Hanson" became a household name. I was 13 and 2, and getting five grand now to fight.

All were under cards, I wanted a main event because that paid lots more, but they kept telling me I wasn't ready.

But now I had twenty grand in the bank, things were looking up.

+++

At age 35, I was becoming a shade long in the tooth for the profession I had accidentally stumbled into.

But the gym was now fairly famous, I had bought in as full partner with Tim and we were making pretty good money.

We expanded operations, now we had a major weight room, sauna, exercise classes still full of nice chubby housewives, a massage room that Tim seemed to really enjoy. Tim it appeared, liked hosing the chubby ones and he did quite a lot of that.

Funny thing is that Lee, my little hooker gal was around most of the time and Tim had no interest in her at all.

Too skinny I guess.

I wouldn't have anything to do with the clients, other than sometimes one of them would be sore and I would rub out their shoulders. At first I did that in the back room but there was this one woman named Marie. She was perhaps 40 or so, around 180 pounds but actually rather pretty.

I had grabbed one of the bottles of lotion and followed her back there, she sat down on the edge of a bench and dropped the top of her sweat suit, just like that. Her tits were huge, they looked like water balloons hanging there.

Then she reached for my dick.

She acted all insulted when I turned her down, we ended up losing her as a client too.

After that I would only rub out the clients in the main room, I left all of the back room stuff to Tim who didn't seem to mind at all.

The only one I ever took to bed was Lee, my slender hooker gal. A few times I even took her with me to matches that were out of town, for some reason she was always hot to trot after a fight.

We never did anything at all before a match, I needed every bit of energy I could muster. Then after the match Lee would take care of me, rubbing her naked body over any spot that might be sore.

She never asked for money on any of those trips, either.

By then I was getting some pretty good billings, and I was still thinking of maybe even getting a championship match. My problem was that I now weighed 215 pounds normally, the guys in the unlimited class were all mostly giants and for me to get under 205 was a strain. I had to work like a Dog to get down to weight.

It didn't help at all that I could eat three of those big whoppers at a setting. Other times I would reward myself with one of those 10 pieces buckets of chicken.

Just one of my minor weaknesses, I would feel guilty and then work out furiously for the next week or so.

+++

I was working at our studio one afternoon with a couple of ladies, showing them how they could "disable a 200 pound attacker" with a few simple blows.

Yea, sure they could but thinking they could gave them a more confident air which often did as much to deter a potential jerk as any kind of action could.

I looked up at an attractive woman that walked in, it took me a few moments to place her.

Patty's mother! What in the hell was her name? I finally remembered, Carla. She walked right up to me, smiled.

"Hello, Danny." She said.

I nodded, looking her up and down. Skirt too short, top too low and loose, too much makeup.

"What can I do for you, Carla?" I asked.

"Oh, I was thinking of joining your club, take a few lessons, do some workouts."

"OK. I can get Tim to..." I started to say.

"No. I want you." She gave me a huge smile.

It struck me that what she said could be taken two ways, that evening I knew she meant it both ways.

Maybe that was dumb but fucking Patty's mother felt damn good. It was like I was getting a real good poke at Patty by doing that.

Carla moved around a lot, and spent a lot of time rubbing my arms and chest, acting like she enjoyed that.

What was odd was that in the dim light her body was a lot like Patty's was, except for the brown hair and bald pussy, plus her boobs sagged a lot more. Patty had always been so proud of her red haired covered snatch that she wouldn't dream of shaving it off.

"So what is Patty doing now?" I asked her after. Carla was sitting on the bed naked as a jaybird, still rubbing me all over like she was petting a Dog or something.

"She is back in town, living with me." Carla grinned.

"Oh." I said, doing my best to not give away what just popped into my head.

"Maybe it might be better to not mention us doing this." Carla laughed as she rolled over and went down on me.

+++

I would have bet money on it and won, because the very next day in walked Patty. She looked around for a few seconds, then she spotted me.

"Danny! I saw you on TV, my but you have gotten big." She said, coming up to me like we were long lost friends or something. I really wasn't that much bigger, but it was in different places.

The last sounds I had heard out of her mouth was her laughing at her tubby jerk brother spitting on me a few years before.

The vision of that slid right into my head.

"Working out does that." Was all I said, keeping a straight face.

"I just wanted to see you, it's been a long time. I just never dreamed you would be doing what you do now." She was smiling. I looked her up and down, same loose top, same short skirt.

But she appeared to be a bit heavier than I remembered.

Still, she just basked in my inspection, like she always had.

"Let's go get some coffee?" She asked.

What the hell, I called one of the staff over to take over my class, getting a couple of unhappy looks from the ladies. Glancing over, I saw Lee standing talking to one of the men, but her eyes were on me and Patty.

I saw the flash of anger on her face as we left, I didn't really understand that. I had told her some of it, but she had never met Patty.

"I can't believe the way you look now, Danny. You are so big!" Patty said as she sipped her coffee. I had a glass of fruit juice, no coffee for me since I had a match in just a week.

"So why are you here?" I asked her.

"I just wanted to see you, and since I live here in town now I thought we could get together and catch up."

"Not married?" I asked.

"No, not now. I was but it didn't work out."

"Kind of like we didn't work out, right?" I said.

"I really am sorry about that, Danny. I was way too young, but I am all grown up now. You are the best man I have ever known." She reached out and patted my forearm, then rubbed it just like her mother had done the day before.

"Want to see my place?" I asked. Silly question, I still lived on my little ten acres out in the country. That was on impulse, what the hell. I suddenly had the urge to fuck her.

"I would love to!" She grinned.

Just like that very first time, we didn't make it two miles before she had my pants unzipped.

"So help me, I swear this looks bigger, too!" She giggled.

+++

Yea, I know. Right back to fucking Patty regularly. Sidetracked, I missed my weight, and not by a little bit, I was 217. It was a regional match, too. They announced me as 205 pounds but probably everyone knew, and there was a mixture of boo's when they held up my hand at the end in the second round.

It should have been one of my 60 second fights, but I felt sluggish, heavy. None of my fancy tricks worked at all, the kicks I can throw while flying through the air were late, out of time.

The trademark moves that drew the fans just did not work, I finally belted the guy with a right hook and he went down like a stone. I sort of fell down on top of him and pummeled him until he didn't want any more.

I really wasn't used to that.

The regular sessions with Lee ended, also. I still saw her nearly every day, she would always smile and say hello but she never said anything about the changes.

A few times I saw one of the other guys come over to her and say something, Lee would nod and they would leave shortly after.