The Boxer's Story

[verscont]

[This is my first attempt at writing a story, so please go easy on me! All of my life I've been hopeless at 'creative' stuff, though I've written plenty of factual business works - some of which have been published - so my grammar should be OK. I originally expected this little story to be a one-off post, but it seems to be taking on a life of its own! So I'd better call this first bit "Chapter One". Admittedly there's no action yet, but I'm guessing that as a storyteller, I'm supposed to set a scene. Whatever, here goes... ]

Big Jim was already in the ring, shadow boxing with his gloves on. He had no idea who his opponent was, except that they’d been called ‘Don’ - although it sounded more like ‘donner’ over the telephone, which is why Jim decided to think of him as “The Kebab Man”.

Why was he here? Well, as a boxer with twelve bouts behind him and no wins (but one draw), this was an opportunity he couldn’t let pass. It was only ‘a grand’ to enter, with a guaranteed 20K just for progressing past the first round, and much more if he won the tournament. Jim thought he might make a deal with his opponent to share the first round kitty, but he wasn’t allowed to know who he was facing before the fight began, so that wasn’t an option.

He thought back to how he’d ended up here. Why didn’t they just call it an ‘MMA’ tournament? he’d asked when they recruited him. They replied that it was a ‘multi-discipline’ competition open to entrants who weren’t necessarily all martial artists – in the strictest sense (whatever that meant). “So I might have to face a stinking, hairy weightlifter, or one of those fat Neanderthals from ‘The World’s Strongest Man’ TV shows?” he’d said. “Maybe”, came the reply, “But people from other sports might want to take part too – don’t forget how fit those tri-athletes can be for example.”

Those thoughts soon faded as the venue went dark and the lights started to swing around randomly. He didn’t know, and didn’t care, why he’d been told to enter the ring before his opponent, but he was about to get his first view of them.

What he saw left him shocked.

He couldn’t make out the figure in the middle – who surely had to be his opponent – because a floor-length gown covered them from the neck downwards, and above it some sort of bright light shined from their hair. But that wasn’t the main problem; what really confused him were the figures at either side – what are known in the business as ‘The Seconds’.

Jim had tried, yes really tried, to come to terms with the modern age and its ‘gayness’ or ‘trans—friendly’ attitudes. But he didn’t know how to respond to what he saw. They’re muscle-bound! And yet effeminate! He didn’t know what to think as he surveyed their bowling ball-sized shoulders and biceps. But then he dared to look below the waist. As queezy as the sight made him feel, what he saw in the midst of the two attendants’ skin-tight white stockings left him in no doubt that they were 100% male.

Whilst distracted by these two... ...he couldn’t think of a word to describe them... he hadn’t noticed his opponent had reached the ring and climbed in between the ropes. The ‘blinding light’ turned out to be reflections from a diamond–studded tiara which his opponent delicately removed and handed gently to one of the attendants. Slowly, but very deliberately, the other ‘guy’ undid the gown’s knot from around the neck. It slipped down theatrically to reveal a lithe but scarily muscular female body dressed in a tutu.

Oh My God! It’s A Fighting Ballerina!

[mksample]

dont be afraid to make the next chapter a little longer.