Boxing Tool

Round 2

In his assigned corner the events that had just transpired quickly replayed themselves as if some kind of theater or home movie. The first round had gone; well Jack wasn't exactly sure how he expected it to go. When he entered this ring, it was under the understanding he was paid to lose. At this moment, assuming such people followed the rules of the sport, he was clearly winning by points and hits alone. In this single round alone, Jack had earned both the respect and fire of his opponent, and the servants would talk about this for a while.

So... good day so far, maybe?

If such rapid change of events and fortunes were not enough, Jack was rather surprised the servant assigned to him was quick and effective. He had expected much hate and ill directed towards him for the assault on their master, but instead he received better treatment than, well ever. The person was quick and proper cleaning him up, getting rid of unwanted sweat, and making sure he was plenty hydrated. It was almost like they cared, or was there way of thanking him for at least doing something to the spoiled lord of this estate. Sure, the water tasted like crap though, but that was probably just being a rich people thing. All in all, Jack felt strong, manly and energized. This was a great fight so far and he had no intention of losing that feeling...

Henry rested in his corner, back and head against the padding of the turnbuckles. He offered no resistance to getting felt up by some random hoe he would dick up later. Well no, not random, it was his assistant after all, but it really didn't matter at the moment. Her name didn't matter, only this fight did... and he felt amazing. Taking the hits, good honest and clean hits, energized him like never before. Never before had he been struck in this manner and never before had he felt so alive.

Henry felt like a man, higher than any drug could ever get him, and he wanted more.

He touched the area the Jack had stuck him, flexing his abs at the same time. His servant did that same, massage the area tenderly with both her hands and her lips. Be it Jack's hit or the feeling it gave, his tender abs drank in her touch, more sensitive than ever before. He wanted more of this feeling. He wanted more of this intoxicating experience of taking a hit, he wanted more and more to make Jack bleed. Yes, he thought, he would take more hits, he would destroy Jack completely, and then he would take him to his bed.

This would be the best fight ever.

The bell rang and without a word or hesitation, the two were rejoined in combat. Empowered from his previous successes Jack took a more aggressive approach. Discarding hope for money, honoring what was agreed upon, and probably all sense of self preservation, Jack became the wild fighter his father was known for. He would fight, and he would win. Even still, and to prove his point, his first two jabs would see the back end of Henry's gloves and prove infective; his hook to the body would find its mark. He would be further pleased to see it was not one, but two jabs that hit its mark. A left and right would assault both side of the muscled teen, producing a grunt of pain each time. Jack would not give in, give up or break, as his gloves took on a life of their own. Two more quick hits, uppercuts would first hit Henry in the upper abs, then another in the chest. Again, grunts of pain were gifted to Jack. A slight redness would show, scaring the perfect temple that was Henry's body, and Jack agreed it looked good on the rich kid. Forced back on the defensive, Henry became dazed and momentarily confused. Jack would capitalize on this and throw a quick jab to the face, snapping Henry's face back.

Jack truly felt like a man at this moment and nothing could... his vision blurred suddenly, and his head felt funny. What.... What was going on?

Henry's head snapped back hard and he felt the sudden surge of anger and power in his chest and his dick. While he loved this, loving how Jack painted his perfect muscled body with his gloves, there was also only so much he could take. Had this gone on for too long, Jack would take the day? Shaking his head, trying to rid the stars in his vision, Henry forced himself on taking back control this fight. Just in time, Henry saw a right hook coming and... didn't even have to dodge it. The hook was long and wide; almost insulting to have been thrown to begin with. Jack stumbled forward and threw a series of jabs aimed at his head and chest; both met and were easily deflected by Henry. Was he drunk? Or did he really already gas himself? Maybe Jack was trying to end it with a power shot and missed?