BOXERDADDY: The Jab
from
Recon News
19 October 2020
BOXERDADDY is a New York based fetishist, writer and author of 'The Puglist: Erotic Boxing Adventures' and 'The Puglist: Other Erotic Boxing Tales'. Boxerdaddy is also one of the founding fathers of ONYX* (NY/North East). Here he shares one of his erotic boxing tales:
BAM! BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
FUCK! His damn jab is beating a fucking pattern into my face and I can't seem to get out of the way! I'm trying to move my head, but it feels like a 40-pound weight. My bobbing and weaving is a snail's pace in comparison to his punch speed. How did it end up like this? I was supposed be establishing my jab first and control the action, but he beat me to the punch right off the bat. No matter what angle I try to establish he's there a full second before me. In boxing terms, that's a lifetime.
BAM! BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
BAM! BANG!
Shit! It's bad enough his left hand is like a piston rod slamming into my nose, but his right hand is like a stick of dynamite exploding off my chin. I've got my guard up but he's punching right through it like it's nothing. I might as well have my hands down at my sides.
I back up and keep my distance, but his double jab is cutting the space between us faster than I can make room.
It's like he can touch me no matter where I'm at in the ring and I dare not get too close to the ropes. I'm NOT getting KO'd tonight. I should have thought otherwise about meeting him at his gym after hours. But what better way to humiliate a man than beating him on his own training grounds. I feel like I'm the one being punked.
His gaze on me intensifies and just as I realize something is not right a blistering combination batters my head around: double left jab, right cross left uppercut, right – left to the body followed by a vicious left hook. I stagger a bit trying to realize what just hit me and then two punishing jabs crush my face in.
BAM! BAM!
OUCH! Those again?!
This time I use my knees and duck under this left, but I'm too far away to counter. Still, it gets me out of danger. He smiles and I barely manage to get my right hand up in time to block a left hook.
DING! DING!
I don't want to admit it but I'm thankful for the end of the round. I try not to stagger back to my corner and fail miserably. Once there I fumble with my water bottle and find myself grateful when the refreshing liquid rolls down the back of my throat, momentarily reviving me. Across the ring he stood in his corner watching my every move, as if looking into my soul for vulnerabilities. There's barely a layer of sweat on him as if the first round was a warmup. It's unnerving.
DING!
Fuck! That was a break?
He crossed the ring and was on me in an instant. Feinting with his right he crashed three hard jabs into my chin.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
He's turning over his fists now and I can feel the added power. I don't like it.
I throw a barrage of punches at him, but he blocks every one. It's like he knows what I'm going to throw. Afterwards, he smiles and bangs his gloves together before waving me in. I don't squander the opportunity and jump on him winging my hardest punches. He blocks a few but others get in. A short chopping hook gets around his guard and rocks his head and I feel the punch in my elbow. His eyes lock on me and I never see the uppercut that sends my chin skyward. On the way down a left hook knocks my jaw to the side a microsecond before the rest of my head follows. Two body shots slam into my gut like steel girders and the pain spreads outward. By the time my mind registers what happened a left-right, left bashes my chin into my chest and my ears start ringing.
BAM! BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
BAM! BANG!
I try to focus but his punches are coming in faster than before. I bring my guard up to no avail.
BAM! BAM!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
BAM! BANG!
He beats another rhythmic song into my face and the world slows down around me. I can see every sinewy muscle in his arms and shoulders flex as he launches his fists at me. His muscles bulge especially big when he leans into body shots and sink deep into my abdomen. I want to break his combination punching but my hands are either too slow or won't respond to my commands. I'm two to three seconds behind him. I might as well be his "Punch Chump."
BAM! BAM!
WHUMP!
He switches stance landing a double right jab that completely blocks out my vision. I never see him dig a hard-left uppercut into my solar plexus. I only know that I can't move much less breathe. He takes a half step back to position himself and I'm screaming at my muscles to do something, but it falls on deaf ears. I continue to watch in slow motion as he launches his fists from his shoulders at my face with pinpoint accuracy, each one hitting like a gold wrecking ball. The world spins around me and I see flashes of the ring and the room as I go in and out of consciousness.
Left and right hooks find my chin swaggering my head back and forth like a pendulum. I briefly wonder what's keeping me on my feet as an uppercut crashes into my chin knocking my mouthguard into the back of my throat. My head reels back so far, my body follows suit lifting my feet off the ground. Before I can land the ring ropes recoil against my frame sending me into the perfect one-two that turns out my lights.
I awake in a small pool of blood and spit unable to see out of my left eye. I'll probably have a black eye for at least two weeks after the swelling goes down. With my right eye I do manage to see his size 12's only to look up and find him standing over me with a devilish grin.
"Good rounds. When you're ready for more, you know where to find me."
* ONYX is an organisation that supports ethnic and racial diversity in the gay leather community. For over 24 years, the organisation has worked to empower gay men of colour and allies providing education about the community, safe practices and history.
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