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by Chiara tied some boxing wraps around her hands and glanced at the equipment. Punching bag. Pads. The room was small but it was enough to practice in. Getting off the holder, she stretched and did her usual warm-up, making sure to engage every muscle group. Once she started sweating lightly, she turned to the pads and refreshed a few routines of kicking, backfists and knee strikes. The louder her hits were, the hungrier she got. She kept hitting harder and harder, simply out of enjoyment. It drove her crazy. The feeling she got from slamming her knees into the bag and hearing the noise echo around the room was so deeply satisfying, she got goosebumps. Her hand wraps were getting red and sticky, and she didn't even glance at them.
She only stopped to fix her hair, which was glued to her face with sweat and getting in her eyes. She hadnt cut it in a while and it had grown down to her shoulder blades, a big mass of messy ginger red curls that looked in dire need of a good brushing. After tying the knotty mass into a somewhat acceptable ponytail, she grabbed the first board and put it on the holder. Slowly took her mark. Put her foot back down. Got back into L stance guarding block, stepped through, and smashed the board in two.
Damn that feels good.
She got the next board, a bit harder in resistance, and put it on the same spot as the other one. After turning her back to the board she looked over her shoulder, squinted, and swung her heel around in one round motion. The noise echoed loudly, the pieces clattered to the floor. Grinning, she picked them up and put them back together, practicing the break a few more times simply to hear the sound.
It felt heavenly. Her leg didnt even twitch anymore now, not even when she was taking her mark. It still occasionally hurt, but the wound was as much as healed now. F#ck yeah she thought, smashing the board yet another time.
She only stopped to fix her hair, which was glued to her face with sweat and getting in her eyes. She hadnt cut it in a while and it had grown down to her shoulder blades, a big mass of messy ginger red curls that looked in dire need of a good brushing. After tying the knotty mass into a somewhat acceptable ponytail, she grabbed the first board and put it on the holder. Slowly took her mark. Put her foot back down. Got back into L stance guarding block, stepped through, and smashed the board in two.
Damn that feels good.
She got the next board, a bit harder in resistance, and put it on the same spot as the other one. After turning her back to the board she looked over her shoulder, squinted, and swung her heel around in one round motion. The noise echoed loudly, the pieces clattered to the floor. Grinning, she picked them up and put them back together, practicing the break a few more times simply to hear the sound.
It felt heavenly. Her leg didnt even twitch anymore now, not even when she was taking her mark. It still occasionally hurt, but the wound was as much as healed now. F#ck yeah she thought, smashing the board yet another time.
