KNOCK OUT FRENZY - Part 3

by Ransom

“A hot surge of excitement pulses through me as I anticipate my coup de grace. Having been sleepered by you only a few minutes ago, it is like I am moving in a dream-like alternative reality. Still, within that reality, my senses are alert. I try to control myself, measuring my blows. But make no mistake. I plan to take you all the way down. I want to enjoy the sight of your well-sculpted body lying sprawled out on the floor beneath me. I will be careful not to do any real damage to you. After all, we are friends. Even so, I am about to indulge in the exquisite pleasure of knocking you out....”

This was part of a letter Donna had written to my wife, Becky, describing their latest wrestling match. I didn't even know it had taken place until I found this letter by accident. What started out as a novel entertainment for their husbands apparently tapped into hidden aggression or perhaps a deep-seated desire to dominate and be dominated. Becky is so normal otherwise and, as far as I know, so is Donna. These intimate violent encounters occupy a small and isolated part of their lives. I don't know if they have ever led to anything else. Becky says no and up until now I believed her. The letter, however, is pretty explicit.

Every encounter finds them upping the stakes. They last competed in the company of their coworkers from their respective fitness centers. However, an earlier match remains the most provocative. It was the one where Donna's husband joined in and pinned Becky's arms behind her back while Donna punched her out in a brutally executed finale.

The video of that three-way match is my favorite one to watch over and over again. Maybe what interests me was the way Becky held her own as she took them on individually, being overpowered and knocked out only after they both ganged up on her. The last picture was of both them standing triumphantly over her as she slumped unconscious against a couch. What I did not yet know was how they both took advantage of her afterwards.

I also suspected, but did not fully know, the extent to which these matches were a way my wife and her friend were dealing with an erotic tension between the two of them. Domination wrestling seemed to be a way they were reacting to these feelings. But now I was to learn the latest episode would take them over the edge.

It had been a tough and stressful week at work for both of them and Becky invited Donna and Dave over to unwind in our hot tub before we would all go out for supper. I did not want Dave present without me if the girls decided to wrestle and I told Becky this. She said the two of them were too tired to want to do anything of the sort.

When I got home they were both in the hot tub and Dave was yet to arrive. Becky was clad in her orange bandeau topped bikini that she usually wore for sunning or the spa. But Donna was wearing her very brief and very tight white bikini. My heart took a little skip, not only because she looked very voluptuous in it but also I knew it was her favorite fighting attire.

I asked, “What have the two of you been up to? You didn't....”

Becky broke in, “We wrestled. It just happened, okay? Donna brought her camcorders and she will have a tape of it for you. You'll like it. A few bruises but everything's cool.”

We proceeded with our evening out and the girls seemed giddy. That night Becky wanted to go straight to bed without so much as a kiss or a hug. After she fell asleep I looked at her and wondered if this was really the person I thought I knew. Sometimes I almost think there is an alter ego that emerges when she and Donna get together.

Several days later Becky presented me with the tape Donna had given her. I had to admit that it was very enjoyable to watch. But after viewing it a number of times I was left with the suspicion that something had happened that was not shown on the tape.

The next day I asked Becky if there was anything she wanted to tell me. She just said the encounter had been scripted by Donna to a certain extent so I should simply enjoy it for what it was. We dropped the conversation. But not long after, I was home alone and I noticed a bulky letter sticking out of Becky's gym bag. Curiosity got the best of me and I pulled it out. It had already been opened. It was from Donna and was her view and feelings of what she experienced when she had wrestled with my wife. Here's how the rest of it read:

******

.... Becky, I hope we can remain friends, even after all we have done. I like and respect you. And yet we have this insatiable need to engage in combat with each other. We play our little games, we pretend we are always surprised when it comes to this. But we want it. At least I want it. It sates a passion in me I can't really describe. I won't deny I get physically aroused. I know you do too. You worry that it is erotic attraction but I never really thought it was that at all, at least up until now. I still think it has more to do with competition, overpowering, and being overpowered, but at the same time feeling safe with each other while it is happening. Too bad it is the one thing we don't talk about.

I admit I wanted to wrestle when I came over last week. I start giving you a hard time, trying to provoke you. You take the bait. You can't tell me you didn't want to do it too. You are just as into it as I am.

So we “argue” back and forth as I say I have a new and even more efficient technique for sleepering someone out. I set up one of my cameras as you protest you don't want to do it, that you had recently been sleepered by your husband and you liked it better with him because he wasn't violent like me. I'm not buying it.

I disrobe and I feel your eyes bore into me. By the way, you look fit to be killed in that yellow tunic cover-up you're wearing. You want to have a go at it. I know you do. Why are you lying to me? Then you turn your back and I slip up behind you and get you in a full nelson. I force you down on the couch even though you twist and turn violently. But I have you in my control and then I sleeper you with my new method of using my knuckles with a hard concentrated pressure.

The technique works beautifully. You go out like a light. You are laying face down, your upper body on the couch while your legs trail out onto the floor. I hope I gauge the pressure so that you will only be out for a minute or two, just what is necessary to get the wildcat in you unleashed. I want you to come back at me hard.

I turn you over and swing your legs up on the couch. As you lay there I throw some cushions and mats on the floor and then I turn my attention back to you. I strip you for action by pulling off your tunic. I've never seen the cute little orange bikini you are wearing under it. Perfect. You are dressed for the occasion.

You come to abruptly and sit up rubbing your neck. You try to come across as petulant but I know you love it. It turns you on. Let it go kid. Let's see where this will take us. You nod as if you are reading my thoughts and then you explode and are all over me. Down we go on the floor flailing at each other like maniacs. I push you down into a pin position repeatedly but you battle your way out of it time and again. Over and over we roll, first one on top and then the other. Neither of us can gain an advantage.

As we grapple I am confident I can wear you down. Finally, I manage to embrace you from behind around your upper torso. I give you a prolonged bear hug as I pick you up. You thrash violently which causes your bandeau top to work down and bunch up under your boobs. When your struggles start to diminish I let you slip through my arms and slide to the floor. You lay still while breathing hard.

But I won't give you the luxury to recover fully. I pull you up to a standing position. I decide to take you for a little ride. I bend down and pull you across my back. I straighten up until you are draped across my shoulders face down. You don't resist much. I feel your hard body and soft heat as I hold you tightly against myself. I spin around several times and then let you slid off. You end up back on the floor, lying there with your arms and legs splayed out in all directions. I back off to admire my handiwork and to let you regain your senses.

With some effort you pull your top back into place. You stagger slowly to your feet. I gotta' give you credit. Your recovery time is impressive.

But still I am surprised when you lunge at me with fists balled and give me a hard one-two punch in the gut. I'm caught off guard and the impact knocks the air out of me. I gasp and go weak in the knees. Now you swing and connect with my cheek. I really wasn't expecting it. That's more my style. I go “Umff!” spin around and see stars.

But I stay on my feet and manage to shove you away from me. You fall back on your ass. It gives me enough time to get my balance. But you are all over me in a flash. You don't allow time for the pain from your blows to subside. Very good. It's what I would have done. You jump on me while grabbing me around the shoulders and neck and down on the couch we both go. You come down on top of me with a full body press, pushing me into the cushions. I struggle underneath your weight. Nice huh? I know the feeling.

Now you are standing up again. You pull me up and slam your fist into my solar plexus. God! That hurt! I choke. I double over and reel backwards. I can't breath. Suddenly you are around behind me. You embrace me under my boobs and pull me upright. Then your arms are around my neck compressing my pressure point.

Unexpected. But man-oh-man, you know how to do it! At first all I feel is pain. But then the pain abruptly disappears, replaced by a very pleasant tingling sensation that envelops my whole body. I am now helpless but I don't care. There's no one watching this time. So take your time. Make it happen slowly. This is feeling soo' good.

I'll admit, it is making me wet. Everything is hazy and warm. I'm drifting out of consciousness. The last thing I'm aware of is sliding to the floor with a deep groan of ecstasy. Then I surrender completely to the mindless bliss.

I wake up and you are sitting next to me, gazing down at me. You say I've been out for just a few minutes. I'll take your word for it but it seemed like it was longer. Now it's my turn. My sweet oblivion is replaced by a renewed intense desire to take you down. Being sleepered seems to mellow you. It just makes me more violent. You allow me to lie there until I recover. Your mistake, unless you want what I'm about to do to you.

I suddenly lunge at you. We grapple all over the room, sometimes on our feet, sometimes on our knees and sometimes rolling around on the floor. Ah, what delicious intensity! You're breathing heavily now. Your face is red and flushed.

I seem to always be able to outlast you. Your cat-like moves are a compliment to my strength. But you wear down before I do. I sense when you are weakening, when you're leaving yourself open. I can take you out now. It seems like you are surrendering to me. You're standing in front of me, unsteady, your eyes half closed. You're mine to do as I please. Maybe you think I'll just sleeper you. That would be a nice little turn-on wouldn't it? But before we do that I want to rock and roll some more.

My eyes wander up and down the length of your body while considering where to strike. Your little swimsuit looks really good on you. The orange color draws me. I decide to go low and deliberately slam my fist into you right below the waistline of your bikini panties. The nylon offers scant protection. Even though you are superbly conditioned that area seems to be a particularly weak spot for you.

You go “Ughhh!” I feel your solid muscles absorb my knuckles and then rebound.

The impact has a telling affect. You grimace, as your body slams back against the wall. Your knees start to buckle and your eyes bulge as you moan “Ohhh!”

Maybe I'll go even lower with the next blow? A little pussy jab? Nah, I won't do that again. It might make you pee in your swimsuit like you did that time with Dave and me. I'll spare you the embarrassment not to mention the pain.

You look like you are about to pitch forward. But before you go down I pull you upright and out into the center of the room, steady you with one hand and with the other deliver a quick hard smack to your jaw. Your arms fly up and your head snaps back as you let out a “Yiii!” Your whole body twists in a wild spin before hitting the floor mattress hard. You lay there on your back, one hand on your bikini shielding where I hit you and the other covering your face. You can't take anymore; you are all but done in. I stand back to look at my handiwork. Ah, the satisfaction of total domination!

I sit down above your head. I grab you under the arms and pull you up into a sitting position in front of me. I smell faint cologne mixed with the salty scent of your exertion. You are mumbling something but it is incoherent. I think you are right on the verge of passing out. You don't offer any resistance.

The time is right. I stroke the side of your face and whisper in your ear, “Are you ready to let me do it to you sweet cakes?”

I don't know whether you can hear me but you respond to my touch, it seems to soothe you. I use my new sleeper technique again. With both hands I feel for your pressure points on the sides of your neck. Then I begin to kneed with my knuckles, grinding harder and harder. You stiffen, throw your head back and let out a “Ahhhh!”

Your legs splay out at sharp angles, kicking spasmodically. Your hands come back and weakly grab for my arms. But your efforts are futile. I feel the intense pleasure that comes from having you completely under my control.

I apply more pressure, but oh so gradually. The longer it takes for you go out the longer we can both enjoy it. You strain against me and arch your back. You manage a short sultry gasp and then you surrender to my embrace. I am loving this. You obviously are too. It is very evident.

You sigh deeply as I feel a ripple of small quick convulsions pass through your body just before you go out. I release my grasp. You lean back against me. I get up on my knees and push you away. You roll over once an end up lying spread-eagled on your stomach.

You don't move. I pick up one hand and let it drop lifelessly to your side. I slap you lightly on your butt. No response. I feel exhilarated. I have completely knocked you out!

Your breathing is slow but regular so I know you are all right. I stand up and place my foot on your upturned little ass. I feel a heat rising in me as I stare down at your supine figure. I come down beside you. I run my hand through your hair and smooth it down some. I feel all my aggression slipping away, replaced by a desire to be close and intimate. I turn you onto your side. You are so plaint in my hands. I give you a little neck, back, and derriere massage even though there is not an ounce of tension in your body.

When I am sleepered I am physically incapacitated. But at the same time I am conscious of what is going on at some level. It is almost like an out of the body experience. I wonder if you aware of anything right now? I speculate on how long you would lay there if I left you alone.

I feel a tight tension building in my own body demanding release. Okay, I admit taking you down has turned me on. I pull you over on your back and caress you. You don't respond. You are still out. I work a finger up under the leg opening of your bikini. Your labial folds are soft, warm, and oh so deliciously wet!

Time to wake up. I prop you upright against some cushions. I lean over you and brush the hair out of your eyes. I kiss you gently on the lips. I feel a slight shudder go through you and your breathing increases. But you do not move and your eyes remain shut. I put one arm around the back of your neck and raise your head slightly. I kiss you again, slowly. This time you respond with a long drawn out sigh. Your eyes open and you smile weakly up at me.

You can't say you didn't want what happened next. You don't protest as I eagerly but slowly pull your bikini off of you. You lay there in all your revealed nakedness and you seem to be okay with that. I then strip off my bikini and lay down next to you. We embrace. At first you are passive then you respond eagerly. We fondle each other's boobs until our nipples are hard with yearning.

Then we work our way down. We hesitate to go below the waist. We know this is the point of no return. But then we embrace tightly. I feel your pussy grinding into mine. We pull apart, breathing hard and quivering with longing. Then, as if by mutual consent, we excitedly kiss and stroke each other's vaginas, exploring our warm wetness. You have never gone all the way with a woman have you? Neither have I.

We climax together. We were so primed that it didn't take long. We both cry out from the power of our mutual orgasms and then collapse into each other's arms.

We lay side by side, relaxed, and kissing lightly. It was good for me and you can't tell me it wasn't good for you too. I never thought it would come to this but I'm glad we finally did it, even if we never do it again.

Moments later we helped each other put our swimsuits back on and are soaking away our soreness and exhaustion in the hot tub. We are both really mellow and relaxed. We laugh and giggle. It is like we are high or something. What happened between us will stay between us. Afterwards we talk about our husbands. We continue to play our little games.

Your friend, Donna

********

I put the letter back where I found it. I think Becky is feeling guilty. It was disturbing to imagine my wife physically involved with another woman. I admit it was a hot fantasy when it was just that - a fantasy. But the reality caused me to resolve to even things up with the two of them.

The End (to be continued)