The match only reached its seventh minute, but the whole audience could tell that it was about to end. The ring’s mat was stained by multiple drops of blood, which came from the swollen face of a male boxer on his knees. He looked down and panted with desperation while the referee started the countdown.
The blood from his nose kept dripping down his chest and his blue Speedo. The man tried his best to get up but failed and remained on his knees. His trembling body crawled near a pair of feminine legs.
Those gorgeous legs belonged to his opponent, the beautiful Pamela Gordin. The twenty-year-old blonde observed her beaten opponent with her dark brown eyes, and her thin lips formed an amused smirk above her strong jawline. She always loved pummeling her opponents and painting them red.
As the referee yelled "Five," Pamela rested her back against the ring’s corner. Her body was thin, and her round breasts were big. It was no surprise that she had been a model before she started her boxing career. The blonde was obviously proud of her physique since she wore a tight white sports bra and a white thong in the ring.
The countdown reached the seventh number, and the cocky Pamela scoffed at the loser’s failed attempts to get up. She looked at her white gloves, which had red stains from the man’s red blood. The lady had chosen her boxing gloves to be white, not only because they looked elegant but also because red-on-white was a striking combination of colors… and it always pleased her to see it on her own gloves. In a way, beating her opponents down was her art.
"Nine!" the referee yelled. The man was still on his knees, his blue gloves were trying to grab the lower rope next to Pamela’s right leg. He was utterly dizzy, and Pamela always brought her opponents to that state. It was no wonder that one of her nicknames was the Pam’ Fatale. The woman was tempted to pet the man’s head, just to add a layer of humiliation… but she didn’t, assuming that beating him down in front of a crowd was humiliating enough by itself.