Female Boxing POV Pinned and Controlled
It was supposed to be boxing. At least that’s what he told himself. POV, gloves up, trying to focus, trying to look like a man who knows what he’s doing. I didn’t rush him. I moved slowly, close enough that he couldn’t decide where to look. My body distracted him before my fists ever did. He kept missing the gloves, losing timing, reacting too late, while pretending it didn’t affect him. I laughed, because it was obvious. He wanted to fight, but he couldn’t stop watching me, couldn’t keep his concentration when my naked body moved in front of him. Hit after hit, confidence slipping, posture breaking, until he finally went down and stayed there.
I didn’t help him up. I sat on him, feeling his breath change under my weight, controlling the pace, keeping his attention exactly where I wanted it — on my scent, my presence, the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere. I talked to him the whole time, calmly pointing out what he tried so hard to deny, humiliating him without raising my voice, making it clear how easy it was to keep him pinned like that. He didn’t resist anymore. He wanted it.
POV boxing domination turns into physical control, pinned down, verbal humiliation, psychological pressure, and a man who realizes too late that losing is exactly what he needed....
I didn’t help him up. I sat on him, feeling his breath change under my weight, controlling the pace, keeping his attention exactly where I wanted it — on my scent, my presence, the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere. I talked to him the whole time, calmly pointing out what he tried so hard to deny, humiliating him without raising my voice, making it clear how easy it was to keep him pinned like that. He didn’t resist anymore. He wanted it.
POV boxing domination turns into physical control, pinned down, verbal humiliation, psychological pressure, and a man who realizes too late that losing is exactly what he needed....
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