Corporate Pugilism

"We're now approaching Cape Town International Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts and make sure food trays are back up and secured. We hope you've enjoyed your trip with British Airways" the flight attendant booms over the inflight intercom.

"No! I didn't enjoy it" I murmur to myself.

It was my first flight outside of the UK and I spent the better part of the 10 hours on it fine tuning the proposal my boss was presenting to our client as soon as we landed. We were here to finalise an acquisition by one of South Africa's largest retail companies looking to buy out a European tech start up. A game changer if all goes well. Just as I'm marveling at my handy work, the laptop is taken from my me.

"Rules are rules Jacob. I'm sure you've done enough by now" my boss says as she closes my laptop and slides it into the bag in front of my seat with a wry smile.

"Yes, Miss Martins." I reply, almost sheepishly as I fumble with my seat belt and brace for the landing.

I was one of the few who made it into the prestigious bank's graduate programme, assigned and directly reporting to a senior executive no less. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming and I'd like to think I developed an imposter syndrome in my short time working under her.

It didn't help that she was one of the most feared executives within the company. She has an excellent track record in bringing in clients as well as an infamous no-nonsense approach. Merely mentioning Catherine Martins' name in an e-mail would get somebody to go from "I'll try and do it today" to "it'll be done in the next couple of minutes". Yet here she was smiling and re-assuring me before my very first acquisition deal.

What I thought would be a drawn-out day turned out to be a brief session of cordial agreements and promises from lawyers to draw up papers to finalise the deal. I was relieved but the butterflies in my stomach still lingered. I guess that's what prompted my boss to suggest a few drinks to celebrate.

I thought we'd be heading for some Michelin Star restaurant since I'd read Cape Town has a few, but instead the Uber pulled up at a pub called Pigs and Swizzles. I can't really describe it better than being just that, a pub. It was dingy with very little light coming in despite it being sunny as hell outside. The beaming smile from my boss however, told me this was a very special place to her. She must have seen my confused look as she asked, "not your vibe?" as she took off her tailored jacket and rolled up her sleeves while taking a seat

"Definitely my vibe. Just didn't picture you as a pub person that's all." I replied while taking off my jacket and taking a seat next to her.

"2 Jaiger Bombs, 2 tequilas and 2 beers please!" she casually asked from the barman before turning back to me without the slightest acknowledgement from him that he heard the order.

"There's probably a lot you don't know about me Jacob..." she said with a rare smile. "But, I wanna know more about you!" she added as she placed the shots she ordered in front of me. "Cheers?" she asked before throwing back both the Jägermeister and Tequila shots without missing a beat. I chuckled nervously to myself and followed suit.

"So what do you want to know?" I said as a means to break the silence while wincing at the hot liquid running down my throat.

"Everything that wasn't in your resume for starters." she said before taking a sip of her beer.

I went on to tell her of my mixed heritage (Nigerian and Scottish parents). My cliché dream of becoming a footballer in London before a knee injury dashed those dreams just before University. I had to shift my priorities towards my academics, a good thing, according to my parents.

All the while she listened intently, with a jibe here and there. I don't know if it was the booze but I was getting really turned on just ogling her as I talked. Normally I would always look down and avoid eye contact with her, but here in this dingy ass pub I was brimming with confidence.

And who could blame me? Ms Martin is undoubtedly one of the hottest women at the bank. Spotting a sultry curvaceous body coupled with caramel coloured skin and a beautiful oval shaped faced that's finished off with the sexiest pair of alluring brown eyes. She wasn't bad in the height department either at around 1.75 metres.

It took one question to bring me back to reality. "Why didn't I hear any mention of a girlfriend in any of that Mr?" she asked as she indicated 2 more to the barman while holding up her empty beer bottle.

Now I have always been "reasonably" good looking. Mixed genes, tall at 1.9m and somewhat athletic but I was timid when it came to girls. I only dated one girl throughout my high school and uni days. Let's just say things didn't end very well so I threw myself deeper into my books to prove how great I could be without her. "You haven't told me about any lucky guy either..." I retorted, trying to change the subject.

"I tend to... " she grabbed the beers from the barman across the bar and continued "...be a little intimidating for most men." She opened my beer using the other bottle as an opener before using her teeth to open hers. I raised my eyebrows in surprise while accepting my beer. Those are the type of things you see from a seasoned drinker, not a banking exec.

"In any case I'm sure you've heard through the rumor mill that I carry something a little extra..." she said with a shrug and another swig of her beer.

The reply caught me off guard and I went into a fit of light coughs trying to regain my composure. I had heard the office gossip about her being transgender. I guess I'd buried those thoughts in the back of my mind as I worked under her, trying to focus on making the most of the opportunity she'd given me. "Sorry, I try to keep away from such office gossip" I said averting my eyes while taking a swig of my beer.

"You're a bad liar" she laughed as she slapped me on the back, with her hand lingering and softly caressing my should before she let go. I blushed at that, hoping she wouldn't notice.

Luckily for me she quickly changed the subject as she took one final swig of her beer, "I don't want to be accused of taking advantage of my staff so I'll call it a day. Good work again today" she said with her hand lingering on my shoulder just a second longer than necessary.

"Where's your hotel? We can share a ride again if you want" she followed up as she grabbed her jacket.

I stuttered... I hadn't thought about accommodation the whole time since I assumed the PA would handle it along with booking the flights.

"I thought your PA would handle it..." I managed to mutter out as I grabbed my jacket. She just stopped and looked at me with this disappointed look that was inexplicably coupled with a smile. "I'm sure I can find something on Airbnb" I said, trying to cover my blunder. She laughed and walked past me towards the door.

"It's the middle of Summer in Cape Town, Jacob. You'd have a better chance of banging Beyoncé. Come along then..." she shouted over her shoulder as I rushed behind her.

Once in the Uber, she told me she had a house in Cape Town so she never books a hotel. She'd accommodate me for the rest of the trip, but in future it was my responsibility to cover these aspects of the trip.

We sat in awkward silence for the rest of the ride until we pulled up to this picturesque mansion at the foot of Table Mountain overlooking the beach. You could tell it was one of those bespoke houses where a client would commission an architect to design and oversee the construction of it. Ms Martin pretty much confirmed as much as we stepped in.

"Drop your bags off in the room upstairs. First door on your left. I might as well give you a tour when you come down." She said casually as she slid off her high heeled shoes.

I rushed back downstairs, hardly taking note of anything as I didn't want to disappoint her for the second time in a row today. I couldn't help but appreciate how awe inspiring the house was. From the outside it looked midsized with three bedrooms at best, but inside it was as if a hole was cut into the mountain with the sheer space it presented a person with.

We quickly covered the main spots before she led me through a door near the pool area that led underground. As the LED lights flickered to life I noticed we were in a gym area, a surprisingly big gym area complete with free weights, a pair of treadmills; exercise bikes; rowing machines and a squat rack. All carefully spaced out and arranged around a boxing ring.

"You box?" I asked as I approached it.

"Yep! I Took it up in my teens while I was transitioning. My father insisted. if I was gonna go through with the change, the least I could do was protect myself from bullies", she replied as she lightly punched the punching bag that hung just outside the ring. It looked like there were blood stains badly wiped off on the floor though, so it definitely was used from time to time I concluded.

"You ever try your hand at it?" She asked as she slipped in through the ropes to join me at the centre of the ring.

"Nah" I tried to lie before she laughed and whispered to herself "Such a bad liar."

She was right, I'd messed around with boxing when my hopes of becoming a football player were dashed but I was never truly as good at it as I was at football. The coach at my local gym flat out told me I let my emotions take control in the ring after I'd lost an amateur match chasing some cocky kid who counter punched me for 4 rounds straight. That was only my second fight so I quit right after.

While I was reminiscing, Ms Martin had brought out some gloves and threw a pair at my feet. I gave her a confused look and shrugged my shoulders at her as I looked over the black leather.

"Wanna go a few rounds?" she asked plainly.

I snorted out a genuine laugh that wasn't fuelled by nervousness for the first time that day.

"Come on Ms Martin... I'm taller and definitely heavier. It's not a fair fight." I replied trying to gently let her down. I forgot she wasn't used to taking no for an answer.

"I'm gonna go change. There should be some sweats in the room you put your bags in. If you can last 6 rounds against me, I'll triple your salary" she said while walking out of the gym. Fast enough so I couldn't object again.

I begrudgingly obliged her and changed into sweat pants and an old t-shirt before trying to race down to the gym again, in the hopes that I could convince her against this. I failed at that too, as I found her shadow boxing in one corner of the ring already working up a mild sweat.

I never truly paid much attention to my boss' body before. She'd always been in knee length skirts or power suits that kept things professional in the office, with maybe a vague hint of the beauty that lay underneath. In the ring right now however, was another person. She wore a pair of short black satin trunks that seemed to cling to her thick curvy ass while revealing a set of muscular thighs that could rival any body builder with calves that pop out just to complete the look.

Her upper body isn't any less impressive, with a clearly visible 6 pack abs covered up top by a grey sports bra. Finishing off her athletic build is her slim yet visibly muscular arms. You'd imagine that she'd be slow in moving all that muscle but she moves them almost too fast for my eyes to register as she shadow-boxed.

She stops as soon as she notices me and calmly gestures to the other corner with her gloved fist, "There's your set of gloves. My phone is there too. 8017 to unlock"

I sigh as I go through the ropes. Thinking of any reason to stop this lady from making me hurt her. I curiously grab the phone first and enter the code which immediately opens up to a draft e-mail. I skim through it but a huge number catches my eye. Way more than the figure she had promised while walking out the door. She obviously notices my reaction and comments, "Not bad for 6 rounds of boxing, hey?".

"What's in it for you?"

"A bit of fun. That's all" she replies nonchalantly.

"No. I'm serious." I ask again, a bit more sternly now, "What's in it for you? Like... If, by some miracle, you win then what do you want in return? I mean we could genuinely hurt each other here"

"You'll owe me one! Now come on!!! 2 minute rounds and 1 minute breaks in-between. After 6 rounds you're a fuck'n millionare" she says, as she shoves a gum guard into her mouth.

Maybe I should have processed what that really meant, but that huge sum of money was already sitting in my bank account in my head. "Her funeral then" I told myself in my head and got the gloves on. A few moments later, the bell rang for the first round

ROUND 1

The first round goes as much as I anticipated. We circle each other faking, parrying and jabbing at one another. Nobody committing to anything really till the round ended.

ROUND 2

Ms Martins came out quickly in this one. Cutting the ring and testing my amateur defensive skills as I did my best "bob and weave" impression, as I avoided her blitzkrieg. "Just 5 more rounds." I keep telling myself as I keep throwing a lazy left jab to keep her at bay. My strategy was working until just as the bell was ringing she bulled into me while throwing a vicious overhand right. It scored me square on the cheek and I stumbled towards the ropes. I blinked a few times and shook my head to clear it a bit. "Fuck!" she grunted under her breath, as she walked back to her corner.

ROUND 3

As the bell rings for the third I decide to take things seriously. "End it quickly if I can." I convinced myself. If anything, there's a million pounds waiting for me at the end of it all.

We both rush to the centre and start slugging it out. In-between dodging and counter punching I spot my boss showing her black and red gum guard with a menacing grin. "She's enjoying this" I think to myself with a tang of worry in my gut.

Heavy blows start to numb my arms as I parry and counter. I see her wild right hand swinging at me and I sway back out of the way. I counter with a heavy right hand of my own over the top that lands right on her temple. She staggers a few feet back to recover against the ropes. But I'm on her in a flash. Steadying then pivoting on my left leg. Sweeping a heavy left hook that landed sharply on those learn ribs of hers. "Uuugh" she grunts as she drops to one knee almost immediately.

"Surely that's the end of it." I think to myself as I walk back to a neutral corner. But the bell signalling the end of the round rings as my boss slowly shuffled back to her corner.

"We can stop now if you want!" I shout across to her from my corner while drinking some water. "Fuck You!!!" she spits at me, slouched on her swivelling corner chair, trying to control her breathing through her swollen lips. I grimace and shake my head as the bell for round 4 rings.

ROUND 4

For the first time since the first round my boss comes out cautiously. Protecting those ribs I had caught in the previous round with a slightly lower guard. Her punches are also noticeably slower as I parry and counter punch with straights and jabs almost at will.

They don't do much though as she simply shakes a punch off and circles away before trying to come inside and being met with a parry and counter. It was during one of these routine dances, closer to the ropes, that I faked a left hook similar to the one that dropped her and quickly caught her clean with an overhand right as she ran to her left.

She stumbled and bounced off the ropes and hung on. Breathing heavily against my chest as she bought herself some time with me frantically trying to push her off. With my dick causing a noticeable bulge as I jockeyed with her heavy body. The bell rang, with me punching her body. Trying to cause as much damage as I could in such close proximity.

ROUND 5

"I've hurt her! Time to go all out" I murmur to myself as I rise for the 5th round. I bolt out of my corner and meet her almost as she makes her first step out of her corner. Throwing a wild haymaker that narrowly misses her bobbing head. She doesn't even have a chance to counter as I quickly pivot and throw a left-handed haymaker that also narrowly misses. It goes on like this for a while. With every 10 punches I throw, 8 would miss and the other 2 would catch her arms or a parrying glove.

It was probably somewhere in the middle of the round when my fists felt heavier and I had all but abandoned any guard or form of defence. It felt like I had to force my legs to follow her around the ring. Fatigue was definitely setting in. As I cornered her in one of the corners for what felt like the millionth time in this round, I placed myself squarely in front of her using my jab to steady myself as I mustered all my power behind a looping right cross.

My arm almost vibrates as it lands. But it's not the target I expected, rather the padding of the corner. I have little time to react before her red glove thunderously crashes against my right side. Gasping for air and shocked, I instinctively wobble to my left-hand side crashing against the ropes before her cannon of a follow up right cross crashes against my temple.

My eyes start to water as the pain starts to register before another right fist catches me on the jaw. I'm already hazy as the combination is finished off with a straight left that hits me square on the nose dropping me to my hands and knees.

Drops of blood start to pool up on the floor below me as I slide lower on to the mat. A sharp pain from that earlier right into my ribs decides to make itself known and I drop to the floor. I wince in pain as I gasp for air clinging to my ribs as if that could make it better. I can't even tell where Catherine was in relation to me. After a while I think to myself, "I've been down for more than 10 seconds. Surely It's over". But All I hear is the bell ring signalling the end of the round.

Unlike my cocky ass, she doesn't ask if I want to continue or not, as I crawl to my corner. Slouching down before I even reaching it. Grabbing the water bottle and pouring it over my face and those screaming ribs. I look across the ring and sure enough, Ms Martins bruised muscular body is standing there. Arms draped over the top rope, rolling her shoulders and slightly swaying from side to side as if waiting for the que to jump out of her corner. I gingerly grab the ropes to make my way up for the final round.

ROUND 6

"2 more minutes!" I tell myself as I gingerly come out for the final round.

My boss also comes out cautiously keeping her distance and constantly coming in behind her jab. As the round goes on, she starts cutting off the ring for me and trying to hit combinations before stepping back when I try and counter.

Things go south for me when she faints a right to those damaged left ribs of mine. I lowered my guard in anticipation. But the punch never came. I realised too late as a straight left re-opened the blood works in my nose and sent me wheeling back into the ropes. She flashed that black and red mouth piece before quickly closing the gap.

She shoots a rapid 1-2 to my body followed by a looping left that hits me clean on the cheek. I try to hold on to her in my dizzied state but she seemingly gained the strength of an army in this round as she shoved me back into the corner and shot a vicious right that caught me square on the jaw.

My mouthpiece flew out instantly as my head swivelled violently to my right. The ropes unceremoniously pushing me back the way I came. My arms are still instinctively protecting my face despite her almost breathing directly into my neck with how close she was. It was then that she gave herself a little room and swayed back a little.

"Just 2 minutes" I think to myself, trying to will myself to stay up until the end of the round. A foolish thing to do in hindsight as her right-hand loops from below and smashes into my gut with the might of a cannon ball.