Novel & Cerita Karate Full Contact

Maceo scowled as Sorin sat in front of him tying his boxing gloves. Sorin had already donned on his mask and was in boxing shorts. "I am not going to get myself beaten up. I am going to beat someone up" Sorin grinned as he stood up and and taking a fighting stance jumped lightly on his feet and threw a few punches. "Uh-huh sure. Isn't that what you say everytime bit always end up with a bruside stomach or aching shoulder" Maceo deadpanned. "Shut up" Sorin hissed.

And he brought a knife to a fight with me. My movements were instinctive, born from years of training and a past I tried to bury. I wasn't like Marcus, all brute strength and disciplined moves. My style was faster, dirtier. A whirlwind of kicks, elbows, and knee strikes. I moved under his knife hand, twisting his wrist, heard a satisfying crack as the knife clattered to the floor.

" Don't tempt me to prove my point. I controlled myself with great difficulty just a few moments back. I wanted to take you right there while holding you in my arms. I loved the way you attacked me. Promise to do that at least once a day. " " You have learnt karate?? " I asked as I was curious as hell. " Well, I am a brown belt in karate. " He said with a naughty smile. " Why didn't you tell me earlier?" " You never asked. But I loved our little fight. But I prefer the fights that end in the bed. Want to try it?? I swear you would not be able to forget it. Come I'll teach you. " " No, thanks!! " I said.

the only person that mattered in my life, I couldn't let him get hurt. “DAD!!” I yelled to warn him, which of course the man standing behind me didn't seem to appreciate. “Bitch” he cursed and a pain seared through my skull a second later. Letting out a painful cry, I fell to my knees and reached back with my hand to touch the back of my head where it hurt most. I frowned when felt warm, fluid with the pads of my fingertips, I brought my hand back to look at it and my fingers were cover in blood... lots of it

He straps on his gloves and kneels astride on my sides. "Listen," he says, "You already know that weight class doesn't count in the underground, and Killer is bigger than you, but that is part of his weaknesses too. You are lighter than him, so you've got to be faster. Killer is an offensive attacker, and there is every possiblity he will want to choke you into a hold like this as soon as he can, so if it ever happens, the first thing you should remember is to fight to get and retain your upper body control. Seriously, I was waiting for you to try to use your abdomen and knees back there, but I guess you couldn't think of that." He huffs out and shakes his head in obvious disappointment.

"Remember there are no rules in self-defense. Do whatever works for you. Fight dirty and with ruthless aggression. Do you understand?" "Yes sir!" "Okay, let's do this. I'll attack you from behind just like Steve did. I want you to make use of every possible move and try to get away. Don't be afraid to get physical, I can take it." I assured her. "Are you sure about that, Liam?" "You're looking at a black belt in karate and a kickboxing champion. I've handled a lot worse than you can throw at me, Miss Davies." "Okay." Bianca shrugged.

I wrap my arm around Zander's neck, sending a quick punch to the gut as I shoot my feet out, kicking Kieran directly in the chest. Kieran stumbles backwards, giving me time to swing around and force Zander onto his back. I wrap my feet over his body, twisting his left arm behind him. I pull firmly until I hear two quick pats to the mat, signalling that Zander has submitted. Leaving just me and Kieran.

I knocked on the driver's side, and the window rolled down. Zach sat inside, one hand on the steering wheel. "Do you need something?" he asked. "Get out of the car," I said. He looked at me without moving. "Come out and talk," I said. He gave a short laugh, turned off the engine, and stepped out. He was a little shorter than me but had a solid build, the kind that came from boxing. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked. "The mark on Hazel's face," I replied.

Then he shrugged and removed his jacket, tossing it aside. “Your funeral.” The challenge horn sounded. Kade attacked first—fast and brutal, a sweeping strike aimed to end the fight quickly. I dodged, pivoting on the balls of my feet, letting his momentum carry him forward. Training kicked in. Ronan’s voice echoed in my head. Control it. I struck back, not with force but precision—targeting joints, balance, breath. Kade grunted as my elbow connected with his ribs, surprise flashing across his face.

Just us, the wooden dummies scarred from years of use, and the low stone wall that kept the rest of the world out. Kade rolled his shoulders once, twice, then dropped into stance without a word. Legs wide, weight balanced, fists loose at his sides. Same form he’d drilled into muscle memory since we were pups. But when he shifted left to test the footing, there was that telltale half-second lag like his body remembered the move, but his mind had to catch up. I circled him slowly, keeping my distance. My ribs were still tender enough that I wasn’t joining him for full-contact today. Fine. I could do more damage with words and angles anyway.