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She's dangling off the ropes now with nothing left to give. This match is a foregone conclusion! A few body blows to put her on the mat and it's off to the count to make your domination official.

She's limp and helpless as you lift her chin slowly, bringing back your fist to make sure she has plenty of time to see her fate. That look in her eyes as she pleads with you not to do it: it's delicious. As is denying her the mercy she's begging for as you let the executioner's axe (your glove) fall.

She's getting desperate now, swinging wildly and hoping to hit a home run. She should just accept that you've got her beat. Evading her wild swing is child's play. Countering it and dumping her on the mat even more so.

You gloat smugly as she falls and ends up on the mat. She looks so cute when she's all cross like that too! But you soon realise that her anger is real as she gets to her feet and comes right back at you immediately.

She looks annoyed and frustrated as she gathers herself on the mat, moaning at you for being too rough, cheating, not being nice, blah blah blah. Whatever. You are glad she's on her feet actually. It will be so much fun showing her that all that stuff she is complaining about is true.

She squirms, she pants, she tries to stand... and then she falls back down. Her determination is admirable. That will be fun to break now that she is your plaything for the prize round!

From the moment the ref starts counting, you know you have won this one. She doesn't even attempt to stand. She can't when she's flat out on her back moaning weakly. If she didn't feel like a loser before, she sure does now!

Knowing her, she should be able to beat this count and get back to her feet. But for some reason she doesn't seem to want to. Not that you are surprised, after what you just did to her. She wisely takes the fall and stays down, taking the loss in order to avoid more of your punishment.

The referee gets to ten and it's all over. The bell rings and you are declared the winner. She moans softly at your feet, still trying to stand but failing miserably. Too late. She's your prize now!

With your gloves up, you advance towards her, ready to go.

Your eyes narrow, you feel your blood pumping. You are a laser-focused machine, ready to take on all who stand against you!

So she blocks your attacks? Never mind, you were just seeing how she moved anyway. Now you know how to open her up properly.

It's all just fun in the end, right? Right? Well... better if she thinks that it is. Then you won't feel so bad for knocking her out later.

You bang your gloves together to get your adrenaline pumping and maybe strike a little intimidation into your opponent too.

That last hit made you see stars. You give your head a shake to clear it and stop yourself from seeing double.

You stop attacking and spend a moment to throw some shadow punches, bounce around, smile and generally show that you've got not a care in the world. It's all psychological, of course.

You are not just a boxer: you are a beautiful warrior goddess who is going to force her to grovel at your feet. Just to make sure she knows this, you give her a preview of the body she will soon be worshipping.

Gloves up, you cagily approach each other, testing to see who will flinch first and go on the attack.

The atmosphere is tense as you skirt around each other; looking for an opening, looking for an opportunity, looking for a weakness.

You try to unleash a devastating assault on her head but she gets her gloves up and blocks it. You don't land any hits but the effort of parrying your blows must surely be wearing her down.

This may be a competition, but you both remember that it is only a bit of fun and tap gloves to show your mutual respect.

It doesn't have to be pretty. It just has to get the job done. You catch her unawares with a single hook to the face.

You land a blow, causing her to flinch, which opens her up for more of the same. Your attacks aren't all that powerful, but they sure are keeping her on the back foot.