Dorte Backpfeifengesicht's Punchable Face 2: vs Lucina Washington (Patreon)

Back for one of the voted stories of Dörte the beloved boxing jobber. She was pretty hugely popular as soon as she showed up, so I knew she had to come back for another beating. Always fun to write an American stereotype as an American, too.

It’s a small matter, but I went back to this one today and had to review the characters’ looks for the sake of this fic and the upcoming reward art of Dörte. Although I’ve had all her opponents be buffer and more muscular than she is… I’m considering making it a trend that everyone had bigger/longer hair than her more than anything. It’s just a look I like in general, and already got a few ideas to mess with on that theme.

Dörte  Backpfeifengesicht returned to the ring, still one of the most popular boxers in the FBF… though it was much to her own annoyance of the reason. Her fans were there to watch her lose spectacularly like she had in every single match since she stepped up to the top rank of the league. She was determined to wipe that zero off her Win/Loss record, her sandy-colored hair swaying just above her shoulders as she shifted her lean muscles in her corner. The German boxer was already fired up in her corner wearing her usual all gold, slightly sparkly boxing outfit with the same bitter confidence as usual. She was focused in a combination of entitled confidence from her time in the lower rankings and the other half her desire to prove her strange fandom wrong. Even now, they waved around signs with “We love our lovely loser!” and “Kiss me before you kiss the mat!”

Her opponent, Lucina "Lady Leather" Washington, emerged to a light show and fireworks around the edges of the entrance ramp. She was dressed in her star-spotted top and red and white striped trunks that screamed her painfully American ego. She had thick, blonde and wavy hair running down to her middle back, and she was overall massive! A towering 6'2" made her one of the tallest in the league, and while not the heaviest she was still sculpted with bodybuilder level muscle while still packing a huge set of E cups. Lucina showily kissed her bulging biceps as she reached the ring, her unbreakable confidence appearing to be the only clear flaw on the blonde goddess. The smug smirk she sent towards Dörte just rubbed the difference between their reputations in even further.

Keen eyes could see the smaller blonde's eye twitch as she saw the bigger boxer make her flashier entrance. The German girl fumed, openly growling as she couldn’t wait for the bell.  She looked across the ring and up at Lucina, telling herself that most of the girls in the top ranks were meatheads anyways. There had to be a way to outthink the American brute. Probably a blind spot somewhere between her bulging muscles and huge, bouncy breasts.

When they stepped out to meet in the middle, Lucy smiled down at Dörte with her gloved fists (dotted with stars of course) on her hips. Her chest swelled with pride (and tits) as she held out a single glove to bump with Dörte's.

"I think one is more than enough for you, Dee," she gloated, tossing her hair back over her shoulders.

“You look like a dominatrix running a 4th of July special,” Dörte replied moodily, swatting her opponent’s glove just as brashly aside.

“Don’t patronize me. Keep lookin’ down on me and you’ll be looking up at the lights in no time.”

Lucina grinned, unphased by her threats.

“You must forgive me. You can’t spell ‘patronizing’ without ‘patriot,” she chuckled before she raised her beefy arms in a solid stance. The thick muscles tightened, forming a capable defensive wall.

Dörte huffed and focused up as the bell finally rang. She came out quick with some speedy strikes, looking to knock Lucina’s starry gloves aside. They barely budged from the impacts, and the bigger blonde’s smile wavered even less.

Dörte finally made her move, weaving around Lucina rather than striking out directly. She snaked in a hook past her guard, smacking against the American’s side before sending a right into her stomach. They did little more than make her breasts bounce and abs tense, managing to make her look even hotter somehow. Dörte grit her teeth and went for a harder uppercut for her stomach, but by then Lucina had caught up to her maneuvers. She shot a swift cross into Dörte’s jaw, sending her head spinning with a spray of spittle flying from her unprepared mouth. Fans cheered regardless of which fighter they favored.

“That’s a lot of talk for a glass jaw!” Lucina pointed out as she sent a lower swing into Dörte’s abs.

The much thinner German fighter huffed and doubled over the glove, nearly lifted off her boots by the uppercut to the guts. Dörte wrapped an arm around her stomach, trying to ease the sudden breathtaker as she swung clumsily with the other glove to try and keep Lucina at bay. It didn’t hit, and it certainly didn’t work at deterring her.

Seeing the opening, Lucina had no need to guard and showed that her size did not mean a lack of speed. Her athletic arms shot out and back like striking serpents, stinging Dörte’s cheeks and forehead as they pleased. Dörte danced around as they steered her one way or another, stumbling as her legs went weak from the rocking head shots. Lucina closed in to where her height and reach gave her the perfect advantage, looming over the slouching Dörte and smashing her glove down like a sledgehammer. It crashed down on the shorter blonde’s head hard and sent her crashing to the mats. The early knockdown was a huge hit to Dörte’s ego and an even bigger hit with the fans.

“Thank you, DB!” one of her masochistic fans cheered.

“Your ass looks so good when you’re down!” another echoed.

Dörte was seeing stars (or more stars than were just on Lucina’s gloves), but she was still steamed as she picked up on the particulars of her mixed up cheers. Lucina was already laughing at her, flexing her arms by crossing them across her chest and boosting up her boobs, showing off her assets to the crowd. Dörte slammed her gloves against the mats, getting back up at seven. Still some time left to breathe before a proper 10 count, but still a humiliating start for early round 1.

“If you want another taste of these gloves again, you didn't have to get up. You could have just begged for it~! I’d be glad to let you lick the sweat off them,” the dominant blonde purred.

“I’ll lick you good!” Dörte snarled as she threw a huge, vengeful haymaker at Lucina.

The blonde had to lean back as the impressively strong but less impressively sloppy swing whizzed past her face. Lucina sent out a long jab to cut off Dörte’s counter, but she saw the counter to her counter coming. She kept moving in and wove around the star-spangled punch, getting inside Lucina’s long reach. She’d done it! She reached the opening and unloaded a few quick punches into the big blonde’s belly. Lucina’s body wobbled, even backing up a step or two. The American even reached out to sling her arms over Dörte’s shoulders for balance.

“Heh! Guess you’re not as unbreakable as y-”

The light clinch was also a great way for Lucina to hold Dörte still as she swung her shoulders hard to one side. She couldn’t get a good angle with her gloves, but it let her huge breasts literally slap Dörte across the face. Her head whipped hard to one side, nearly taken off her feet by the heavy tit slap. Dörte’s glove went to her cheek as she leaned on the ropes, gawking from the mind-rattling boob blow.

“I wondered when you’d walk into my little ‘booby trap!” Lucina gloated as she strode in behind her.

She stood right behind Dörte, resting her huge and heavy tits on top of her head. They pushed down on her, though thankfully not enough to choke her on the ropes or trigger any call of a foul. Lady Leather still cupped her boobs, lifting and parting them enough for them to drop to either side. She clapped them back together, mushing them into place with her gloves to make them audibly THWACK against Dörte’s ears from behind. It all squashed her head like she was trying to make it vanish in between her cleavage. It let the audience see her comically smushed face while she grunted messily. The swatting impact rang Dörte’s bell, but she remained buried deep between the hefty tits even after Lucy raised her arms in a flash double bicep flex. She pumped her pecs to flex and squeeze her jugs together around Dörte, strong enough to hold her up on their own.

The German’s sweat and drool ran down her chin and onto the mats, giving a few listless pulls until she managed to jerk herself free. She stumbled out from between the ropes and a very soft place as she put up her gloves in a sloppy, hasty guard. Even putting up her gloves together and tensing up her arm muscles, Washington threw a huge straight that tore right through her guard. More accurately, it shoved Dörte’s gloves back like a bulldozer so that she slugged herself in the face with them. She snapped backward, her legs turning to rubber and falling towards the mat. Washington was in her way, or more accurately her breast. The limp Dörte’s face smacked into it and bounced off before flopping fully to the mat.

“WOO! That’s what you get with pure American beef!” Lucina hooted to the crowd.

She immediately ignored Dörte to go cater to the crowd. She struck a bodybuilder’s flex at a few angles, making her muscles and breasts bulge even bigger than they already were in her patriotic outfit. The she-hulkingAmerican left Dörte to remember where she was as she propped her gloves under herself, sluggishly pushing herself back up like it was the world’s hardest situp. She pulled herself up out of the latest sweat stain marking the mats and her clothes, breathing heavily but standing by the time the count got to 7.

Fortunately for Dörte, Lucina was still playing to the crowd with her back turned to the German boxer. She fumed and thumped her gloves together as she fired herself up for a comeback.

“I’ll teach you to ignore the KO Queen,” Dörte grunted to herself.

She pretended people didn’t call her the KOed Queen lately and charged in, wound up for a huge payback punch. Lucy lazily dropped out of her display mid-flex to duck under Dörte’s punch without even looking, thrusting her thickly muscled butt back into the shorter fighter’s stomach. Dörte huffed and doubled over as the meaty glutes knocked the wind back out of her sails.

“Up already? Somebody must be eager for another closeup view of old glory.”

Lucy whirled around, throwing a crushing blow into Dörte’s cheek. Her face warped out of shape, cheeks jiggling flat as spit flew from her face. She went whipping away from the all American fist and crashed back to the mats just before the first round bell rang.

“Lucky break, runt. But don’t you worry. I’ll give ya a finish that’s bigger than Texas,” Lady Leather tutted.

“Lucky… I don’t break yer face…” Dörte mumbled as she struggled to get one arm under herself.

It was a stark contrast between the two as they went back to their corners for the break. Lucy paraded back to her end of the ring, shaking her thick hips and flexing her pecs to bounce her breasts for the crowd. She spent her time stretching casually in ways that showed off her strength and figure for the audience. She had barely working up a sweat in the first round, and even waved over a fan to autograph a photo to emphasize her lack of focus on the fight.

Dörte had to crawl back to her corner. She flopped herself back onto her stool and slumped against the ropes, hastily chugging down water to recover what little she could during the one-sided fight. The Lady Leather fans were bad enough cheering on the brawny yankee. Her fans were just as bad.

“All hail the KOed Queen!” someone shrieked gleefully.

“Nobody loses like DB!”

“I think she looked right at me! Right when she hit the mats and went all glassy-eyed.”

Dörte fumed and focused herself as intensely as she could. Commentators often noted how her hotheadedness got her into trouble in her matches, but it was also one of the main things that kept her going in these fights in the first place. She took another swig of the water and dumped it over her head, desperately trying to cool off and sharpen her senses.

“Okay, flag tits… let’s see you keep up with this,” she growled.

“OMG, she’s so hot when she pretends she can win!” someone squealed from the front rows.

“Shut up already!”

Dörte tossed her bottle out of the ring, ignoring her sadistic fans that all grabbed for it. The bell rang so she rose to her feet, putting her dukes up. Lady Leather stepped up to meet her, taking the first swing at the smaller blonde. Dörte dipped right and shot a quick jab into Lucy’s side before darting back out. She puffed a few breaths out through her lips as she focused on her footwork. The star-studded slugger did hesitate as Dörte danced and dodged rapidly in front of her, burning through her energy but making herself as hard a target as possible. She snuck in quick little hits here and there, barely budging the bigger bruiser. If she couldn’t beat her in strength, Dörte figured she’d have to focus on her speed.

This just might work… if she wasn’t so wildly outclassed. Lucy let the German boxer wear herself out for a few seconds before suddenly blitzing her with her arms outstretched to either side. Dörte froze as she realized the wall of muscle that formed left her nowhere to run. She tried to dive under one of Lucina’s arms but it immediately slammed down, clocking her over the head like a mallet. Dörte jerked and recoiled, seeing stars before her eyes. It took her a second to realize it wasn’t from the head injury but because Lucina’s patriotic gloves were flying at her face.

The beefy American spent a good stretch of time wailing on her opponent. Dörte quickly lost count of how many times she’d been hit, even if she felt every one of them deeply penetrating her senses. Her cheeks puffed up with every gut buster, just to have them flattened out again with a headshot. Sweat flew from her hair and spit from her lips as she entered a jerky dance away from Lucina’s fists. She could only retreat so far before she was propped up by the ropes, grabbing them for balance. That just locked her gloves into place while they should have been trying to protect her. Lucina gladly leaned in closer, mashing her huge breasts into Dörte’s to hold her in place. Her jugs dwarfed the German blonde’s as she started sending hard hooks into her belly, putting her bulging muscles to good use in bruising up Dörte’s abs. The KOed Queen’s body bucked with the body blows, thrusting her own toned ass through the ropes as the trunks rode up on her hips. Both sides of the fans went wild at the display of the suffering Backpfeifengesicht. As much as Dörte had mixed feelings at best about her fandom, other boxing fans really loved meeting up with them. They all seemed to want the same thing, after all!

Lucina stepped back to drive a high, deep hook into Dörte’s guts. She gurgled as foamy spittle bubbled up past her lips, going cross eyed for a moment as she seemed to black out for a moment. Lady Leather smirked at her mockingly before clutching her gloves together, bringing them crashing down in an axehandle smash across the back of her shoulders. Dörte dropped to her knees, dangling there limply for a moment before she flopped forward. She landed with her face in Lucina’s crotch, moaning against her pussy in such a dazed state she didn’t even realize where she was for a minute. The American gave a mocking smirk and an exaggerated shrug to the crowd, letting Dörte grab at her hips. She pulled on her ass and trunks trying to pull herself up like she was climbing the mountain of a woman. Lucina gestured at her encouragingly, even as the waistband of her trunks were pulled down to her thighs. Dörte finally managed to drag herself up in a breathless clinch, hanging onto Lucina for dear life as if her legs were ready to give out. She tried holding down Lucina’s arms, a pathetic attempt at saving face as she just tried to recover.

The American seemed content to let her, for the moment. She shimmied her hips, stepping out of her trunks one leg at a time. It was little surprise to anyone that she had a red white and blue thong with “Home of the brave” written on the crotch underneath.

“Enjoying the view?” she called coyly to the fans.

“Because somehow, I doubt she is. You’re making my little patriots so jealous.”

Lucina cooed as she hugged her powerful arms around Dörte’s head. She squeezed tightly, crushing the grunting blonde between her boobs and biceps. The German athlete tried pushing at her barrel of a chest but she couldn’t budge out of the iron grip. It just exhausted her further, ending up slumping against the patriotic dominatrix as her arms went limp at her sides. All she could do was moan, struggling to breathe through the surrounding flesh. Her head was already spinning when Lucina partly released her, sparing one arm to wind up.

“Now don’t enjoy it too much,” the American warned just before the glove swung in and slammed Dörte right in the crotch.

The German boxer’s boots left the mats for a moment before she landed back on her crossed legs. Dörte doubled over with her gloves clinging to her trunks, her face a grimacing gallery of pain. Lucina’s punches were already bad enough, but having one low blow from her left her completely stunned.

“Speechless? Most people are after I touch them down there,” Lucina purred, giving a quick bounce of her biceps for the fans as Dörte was left unable to interrupt her.

The bigger blonde still had plenty of time to spare when she finally got back into the fight. She took her time shooting jabs into Dörte’s dumbstruck face, only making her grunt and produce even goofier noises. She finally swept an arm in a casual backhand, crudely sending her crumbling into a corner. Dörte’s limp arms caught on the middle ropes on the way down, barely keeping her from fully falling. She blinked some weary tears from her eyes as she rubbed her aching head.

When she could finally see straight, she saw Lucina had turned away from her again. A part of her miserably hoped that she was showing off over her to buy her some time to recover and maybe do… anything, really. She didn’t catch that Lucina was looking back over her shoulder, still fully focused on her as she shook her hips, waving her thong-wrapped ass in Dörte’s face.

“Get ready, hon, cuz here comes America’s ass!”

Lucina gave one of her thick cheeks a firm smack with her glove. Dörte stared and swallowed hard, throwing up her hands in a pleading gesture.

“Wait! No no nooooMMF!”

Her words and most of her face were buried by Lucina’s slamming ass. The barely covered buns rubbed over Dörte’s nose and mouth, directly assuring her senses that she had, in fact, worked up a sweat during the match. The German was already panting to get enough air, and that only became more difficult with the thick American sitting on her face. Her eyes rolled back as she only grew even more lightheaded and dizzy. She raised and swung her gloves at Lucina, trying to push her away and failing miserably. She mostly just felt up the thonged booty, proving she not only wasn’t a match for Washington but she couldn’t even beat up the big blonde’s butt.

The ref finally urged Lucy off of her and the blonde bruiser compliantly stepped away with a few spots of Dörte’s lipgloss glistening against her ass cheeks. The sudden show of the spotlights from beyond the American amazon made Dörte’s eyes flutter at the sudden brightness. She pawed at the ropes with her gloves, clumsily pulling herself up.

“Come on now, Dotty. Any more fight left in that scrawny little body of yours?”

Dörte finally forced herself back up, teetering on her feet. She struggled to stay conscious let alone standing. Some of her fans even got a chant going of “Make the loss last! Make the loss last!” in some of the closest they got to actual encouragement. She forced her heavy muscles to work as she dragged her gloves up in front of her in a fragile mockery of a defense. She told herself that if she could just drag out the round she might be able to bounce back…

The only bouncing she did came when Lucy threw one hell of an uppercut into her chin. It blindsided the smaller blonde, launching her into the air a solid foot off the mats. Dörte’s eyes glazed over while she hung in midair, feeling a numbness wash over her fading consciousness. Whether Lucina knew it or not, she brought her other glove swinging back down in the opposite arc of her uppercut. This one hammered straight down, punching right into Dörte’s crotch to send her flying back towards the mats. Having her pussy crushed between the glove and the mats below send a burst of overwhelming pain coursing through her. Her mind and body couldn’t believe it, her jaw dropping as she thrust her hips up against the punch. She squirted a confused paingasm, staining Lucina’s glove with her juices gushing through her trunks before she completely collapsed.

The audience went absolutely nuts as nearly every fan present went home happy. Lucina’s fans gushed over the accommodating glory hog while Dörte’s eagerly reviewed their favorite stills and clips they’d caught of the German beauty getting her ass kicked. They would be sure to post about them later so that the sore loser could see them for herself when she was too punchdrunk to know what was happening. Dörte herself woke up some time later that night, dragging herself back to the locker room to clean up and get redressed. She popped open her locker to drop off her gloves and gear, checking her phone while she was at it. There were a number of messages and alerts, showing congratulations from various fans, fellow boxers, and league staff. She let out a frustrated growl.

“RRGH! How am I the ONLY bitch in this league who gets more congratulations when I LOSE than when I win!?”