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Old 10-Aug-19, 16:44
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Default Tyler vs Leah: The Hardest Lesson (Maledom/XXX)

OK, so between rewrites, my usual procrastination and working on a different project, this story has been a very long time coming. In fact, I already posted this prologue once before, way back in March - but as the main story then developed, I subsequently had to make some changes in the prologue to reflect later events, so I asked Zweig to delete that post with the intention that I would re-post it soon afterwards.

Five months later, here we go! Prologue today; Main story tomorrow. This is probably the maledom'iest maledom story I've ever written so obviously it won't be for everyone here. But for those who enjoy the occasional role reversal, I do hope you like it....


From a purely aesthetic viewpoint, Tyler Song was perfect. His physique sat halfway between that of an elite swimmer and an Olympic gymnast. Or, as his publicist described him, "He's the Tyler with the three T's! Taut, toned and tight!" Tyler got his dark hair and olive skin from his Korean father. His poster-boy good looks came from his Texan Mom. Neither of them took any credit for his behaviour.

What was all the more surprising about Tyler's catalogue-model appearance was that Tyler was a fighter. Not in just one discipline, but many. MMA, Bare-Knuckle fights, Wrestling, Boxing, numerous Martial Arts; if it gave him an opportunity to hurt someone, Tyler did it. And whilst his peers often displayed the tell-tale signs of their years in the ring, be that broken noses, permanent scars or ears that were less than symmetrical, Tyler's features were still as flawless as they had been on the day of his first fight, just three years previously.

At still only Nineteen, Tyler's record was already an impressive 47-0 victories, across various fighting styles, including 33 wins by knockout. The rest of his wins came by way of submission. There were no TKO's or points wins on Tyler's record. No-one ever got off that easily. And whilst the zero in Tyler's record actually represented his amount of losses, the same figure could also be applied to how many times anyone had even managed to hit him in any of his contests. As the slogan said on all of his posters; "Nobody touches the face". And so far, nobody had.

In the ring, Tyler was moments away from adding adding a 48th 'W' to his record, as he rained punches on another woefully outclassed opponent. A blonde woman, no more than 25 years old, was staggering around the canvas, her vacant face heavily bruised and swollen. She was barefoot, wearing red silk shorts and a matching sports bra, both of which had the name "Jenna 'THE MANKILLER' Benson" stitched into them in glittery blue text. The addition of two light blue boxing gloves on her hands suggested that Jenna was a kickboxer. However, so far her outfit was the only evidence the audience had with which to make that assumption. Jenna had not actually been able to execute a single offensive move since the opening bell of the first round. It was now round 12.

Tyler drove a knee into the battered girl's gut, doubling her over. The crowd cheered and booed in equal measure, but Tyler bathed in any recognition, arrogantly raising his hands above his head and walking slowly around his winded opponent. To a keen ear, it was clear that the majority of those supporting Tyler were made up much of the female portion of the audience. Although why they favoured the young, handsome athletic male fighter, who was currently wearing only the tightest of bulging black Speedos, white boxing gloves and a thin layer of sweat glistening across the chiselled musculature of his toned body, was a complete mystery.

Jenna stood upright, still breathing heavily. Glassy eyes looked around blankly for Tyler, unaware that he was now standing behind her. Tapping Jenna uncharacteristically gently on the shoulder, Tyler waited as she turned around. Already struggling to focus, Jenna's gloves were barely raised above waist height by the time she was facing Tyler and he swiftly made her pay for her complacency. A left hook slammed into her jaw, knocking her head sideways. A right cross did the same, smacking her back in the other direction. Tyler began to deliver rights and lefts in rapid succession. Each blow could have sent Jenna to the canvas but Tyler kept her on her feet by keeping his blows quick, and continuing to alternate between left and right strikes, pounding her jaw like a tennis ball going back and forth across a net.

From the corner of his eye, Tyler noticed the referee approaching, undoubtedly with the intention of stopping the fight. Tyler had been careful so far. Dominating his opponent easily and mercilessly throughout every round, but always holding back just enough so that Jenna was still standing. The idea of putting someone out of their misery was incomprehensible to Tyler. For him, there was no greater pleasure than prolonging an opponent's misery for as long as he possibly could.

Now though, after twelve rounds of relentless punches, elbows, kicks and knees, Jenna was almost out on her feet. Determined not to be denied a knockout, Tyler halted his latest assault and backed off a little. Not out of any concern for Jenna, of course. Tyler's actual intention was to simply stop the referee from calling the fight immediately. Tyler needed just a few more seconds to execute the finish the way that he wanted.

A roundhouse kick slammed across Jenna's face, sending her mouth-guard flying into the crowd, where an eager fan caught it. Tyler's foot slammed into her features again, this time kicking in the opposite direction and giving the front row on the other side of the ring a shower of spittle and blood, which they enjoyed a little too much. Tyler's third kick was high and straight, his heel smashing into Jenna's nose and sending her staggering back against the ropes.

Given her inability to defend herself, it was no surprise that Jenna was equally helpless against Newton's Third Law. She bounced off the ropes and stumbled back towards Tyler who leapt into the air, cracking his knee into Jenna's chin at the apex of his jump. She hit the canvas a split second before him; Jenna on her back, Tyler landing with his feet on either side of her prone body. He remained there as the referee began a formal, but wholly unnecessary, ten count over the comatose woman.

Tyler slipped his boxing gloves off and threw them into the crowd, where a group of enthusiastic young women leapt for them like hyena around a zebra carcass. "YOUR WINNNNNAAAAAAHHHH!!!" cried the ring announcer into his microphone "AND NEEEEWWWW SOUTHERN REGION LIGHTWEIGHT INTERGENDER CHAMPEEEEEEEENNNNN... TYLER 'THE UNTOUCHABLE' SONG".

A buxom redhead in a red bikini handed Tyler an ornate title belt. He glanced at it disinterestedly and tossed it over the top rope towards a sharp suited middle-aged man who was seated at ringside. "Hey Phil," called Tyler, "Put this with all the others will you".

Phil caught the belt and put it on the chair beside him. "Will do, T'!" he shouted over the still raucous crowd. "You know, you're gonna need a bigger room to store these things in soon. You think maybe you could lose a few of 'em, just to free up some space?" he added, laughing.

"Not gonna happen", Tyler called back . "But if you wanna throw some of them out, that's cool. It's not like they're ever going around anyone else's waist again, right!" Phil smiled and waved at Tyler before picking up the belt and heading towards the exit.

As Tyler paraded the ring, still basking in the crowd's equal adulation and loathing, he noticed a face in front row. A dark haired woman, at least ten years Tyler's senior, with an attractive but currently impassive face. She shook her head at Tyler's delight in his effortless victory and he grinned smugly as her blew her an exaggerated kiss. "You're next, Leah." He called out across the sound of the baying crowds. "Think you'll last longer than this one?" he sneered, waving towards the still unconscious woman on the canvas. "Hey," he shouted, a thought suddenly occurring to him, "How about a taste of things to come?" he asked, and moved back towards Jenna.

The referee was still in the ring and made a move to stop the teen fighter. One look from Tyler's eyes quickly changed his mind and he quickly clambered through the ropes. Alone with his recent prey, Tyler pulled Jenna back to her feet. She was coming around slowly, but was still in no state to support her own weight. Ever the gentleman, Tyler dragged her to the corner of the ring, the corner nearest to Leah's seat in the audience. Tyler hung Jenna's arms over the ropes on either side of the corner-post, her back resting against it. Just for good measure, Tyler twisted the ropes around each of Jenna's wrists, holding her in position. "Whhuuu.....?", she mumbled weakly, Jenna's eyes opening slowly as her cognitive functions gradually came back.

Tyler took one last look into the crowd, his stare connecting directly with Leah's. "We fight in three weeks," he shouted. "No Holds Barred. Anything goes. Just like you demanded". Tyler turned his attention back to his defenceless punchbag. "So here's just a little of what you'll be getting...." Tyler ploughed a fist deep into Jenna's soft belly. She grunted as the blow connected, eliciting an "OOOMMFFFF!!!" With her arms trapped, Jenna's natural instinct to clutch her stomach was denied. Instead her legs lifted off the canvas, as she doubled up in pain. She was far too weak too hold them up for long though, and they dropped back down, allowing her winded gut no relief.

Any respite would have been short-lived anyway as Tyler again slammed a punch into her stomach, once more causing the helpless female to utter a breathless "UUUNMMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!" as his fist sank into her belly. The muscled fighter began to dance on his feet, as though ready to avoid a barrage of punches from Jenna which were clearly not coming.

"Let's see if I can find a way through your defence here," he mocked at his trussed target, bobbing and weaving before slamming a vicious right hook crashing into Jenna's cheek. Her head rocked sideways and she grunted a pained, "Unnkkkkkhhhh!!!" as his fist connected with absolute conviction. "I think you've left yourself open a little on your left too," he smirked, and delivered roundhouse kick that produced a spray of spittle from Jenna's mouth as his bare sole found its mark. The two successive strikes had been almost enough to send her back to dreamland. But if Tyler had wanted Jenna unconscious, she would have been. For now, he wanted to prolong his showboating.

Jenna's head slumped forward woozily, so much so that Tyler's subsequent uppercut caught her full in the face, snapping her head backwards. When it lolled forwards again, Jenna's eyes were open, but glazed over, as though she was now merely a passenger in her own body. "Wow!" said Tyler, sarcastically. I can't believe you're still standing", he laughed. "Well, hanging anyway! Actually, you're looking a bit uncomfortable there. Let me help!" Jenna's arms were still caught in the top ropes on either side of her, and were now the only thing holding her up. Tyler picked up Jenna's left leg and hung it over the middle rope to her left. He did the same on the right side, leaving Jenna now completely splayed. Her back was against the turnbuckle, her arms and legs spread like an open invitation. And Tyler had the RSVP.

Tyler's kick ploughed decisively into Jenna's groin, the soft almost inaudible thump as foot hit silk shorts was a stark contrast to the intense pain the blow created. Jenna gurgled out a strangled yelp of agony. Her head jerked upright, her face contorted in pain and tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. "Oh hey, you are still with us," exclaimed Tyler. "I'm glad to hear it." He grinned. "Let's hear it again." This time, his knee slammed into Jenna's crotch, causing her to cry out again. It was a guttural, high pitched animalistic grunt that highlighted her loss of any control.

Outside the ring, Leah had seen enough and leapt from her seat. She sprinted ringside and climbed through the ropes, determined to put a stop to the beatdown she was witnessing. Placing herself directly between Tyler and the groaning woman hanging on the turnbuckle, she stared into the vicious fighter's eyes. Leah's skinny jeans and tight white t-shirt looked out of place in the ring, but her athletic and muscular build was still clear to see. "That's enough," she said through gritted teeth. "I was going to wait until our match before I end you, but I'm putting a stop to this right now."

Tyler shrugged his shoulders, innocently. "What's the problem? She's perfectly OK, look." He waved casually towards Jenna and Leah turned slightly to glance behind her. Instantly realising her mistake, Leah quickly turned back to face Tyler - but it was too late. His fist slammed into Leah's unprotected gut, doubling her over as the air fled her lungs with a resounding "OOOOOOUUFFFFF!!!!" Tyler followed up with an knee to Leah's face, the strike connecting with a crack that resounded around the arena as she fell backwards towards the still strung-up Jenna. Unable to control her descent, the back of Leah's head slammed into Jenna's still tender pussy. Jenna squealed in agony one last time before unconsciousness finally overcame her. She slumped forwards, falling from the ropes and landing in a tangled mess of limbs on top of an equally KO'd Leah.

Tyler smirked. "Ladies, please. Get a room!" He raised his hands in victory, already eagerly anticipating his imminent match with Leah.

Last edited by FootPower; 11-Aug-19 at 20:56.
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