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 laying 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
sleepering you into unconsciousness...."

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. Why do the two of them periodically engage in such mayhem, each
time ending with one of them being rendered unconscious? 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 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 so far I believe her.

But they keep upping the stakes. The most recent time they fought was in a tag
team match with four other women. However, an earlier match remains the most
provocative for me. It was one where I was not present but Donna's husband joined
in and Becky was punched out by Donna in a brutally executed finale while Dave
pinned her arms behind her back. The video tape 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.

I do know Becky likes to be sleepered. She even asked me to do it to her once. She
showed me the technique and said I had to be very careful and the instant I felt her
go out I had to release the pressure. She orchestrated the event to take place in our
bedroom. Candles lit the room and soft rock played on the radio. She came in
dressed only in her short oriental kimono.

She kissed me as she sat down on the bed and told me to kneel behind her. I
hesitated, asking if she was sure she wanted me to do this to her. She told me to go
for it. I put my arms around her neck and I could feel her quiver with anticipation.
I squeezed her pressure points at the base of her neck. At first she resisted. I felt
her tense and try to pull away from me. She gave out a series of short "Ah, ah,
ah's!" Her hands tugged at my arms. I was about to let go thinking this was a bad
idea when I felt the tension abruptly go out of her body. She sighed and went limp.

I released the hold when her upper body became dead weight in my arms. Her eyes
were closed. A little smile on her face slowly disappeared as her mouth went slack
until her lips parted slightly. I leaned her back carefully onto the bed. Laying there she
looked so wonderfully vulnerable and helpless. She always said being sleepered
was very sensual for her but not in a sexual way, whatever that met. I don't know
how long I gazed upon her before she started to come around. Her eyes fluttered
open and she looked at me. She purred that was one of the best sleepering
experiences she had ever had and asked me what I thought. I honestly didn't know
what to say. She never asked me to do it to her again.

It was not long after that her and Donna took each other on again, this time at our
house. I knew Donna probably wanted to even the score after Becky had so utterly
defeated her in the tag team match. But I was still surprised with how it happened.

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 white bikini. My
heart took a little skip, not only because she looked very voluptuous in it but 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 especially when we sleeper each
other. I know you do too. You worry that it is erotic attraction but I never really
thought it was that at all. It has more to do with competition and 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 don't know why? We
have nothing to be ashamed of.

I admit I wanted to wrestle and sleeper you 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 weren't wanting 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 coverup 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. 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 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,
laying 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
plexis. 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 envelopes 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. 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. You allow me to lay 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, clutch yourself and double over,
holding where I hit you with both hands. Your knees start to buckle and your eyes
bulge as you moan "Ohhh!" Maybe I'll go even lower with the next blow? Nah, I
won't do that again. I'll spare you the pain.

You look like you are about to pitch forward. But before you go down I pull you
upright, 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 resistence.

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 sultery 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 and I let
you sink down until you are laying spreadeagled on the floor.

You don't move. I pick up one hand and let it drop lifelessly to your side. I slap
you lightly on the cheek. 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 run my hand
through your hair and smooth it down some. I turn you onto your side. You are so
plaint in my hands. I give you a little neck and back 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 roll you all the way over until you are laying on your stomach. I get up and stand
over your supine figure. I savior my victory. Do you feel my foot planted on your
upturned butt? I speculate how long you would lay there if I left you alone.

After a few minutes I think I will help you wake up. I kneel down beside you and
pull you over all the way onto your back. I lean over you and brush the hair out of
your eyes. 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.
This time you respond with a long drawn out sigh. Your eyes open
and you smile weakly up at me. We embrace as you recover.

Moments later we 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 at the end 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. If Dave has suspected anything it doesn't
seem to bother him. Donna doesn't see any problem either. But I think Becky is
feeling guilty. No wonder she never asked me to sleeper her again. Of course I
could be all wrong about this. Yet what came over me was a resolve to even things
up with the three of them.

The End (to be continued)