Who Mourns for Athena?

By Brittany

(Author’s Note: Although this story stands on its own, the history of its characters is contained in three of my 2007 stories: Room With A View, Golem, and Weak Girl).

It had been a couple of months since I had dumped Jeremy. After I kicked his ass (again) that night, I was so pumped, so revved on the ‘high’ of getting into physical confrontations, I kind of started to look for trouble. I liked a challenge, and Jeremy wasn’t one. I had been lucky, though, because I trusted him, and knew that he would never really try to hurt me. I wouldn’t dare try that with another guy, especially one I had just met.

So for a while I satisfied my fight-lust with other girls. I got into two fights in the locker room at Workout World (I won both), one in the parking lot of TGIF’s late one night (I won but it was close---she punched me in the throat and I got disoriented, but I managed to choke her into a submission), and one at the beach last week (some Barbie thought she was all that, and it ended with her getting a mouthful of sand, my foot planted on the back of her head, and me taking home the torn-off top to her bikini). Each victory made me more confident and more cocky, and when I wasn’t fighting (or at work), I was in the gym, working on increasing my strength and prowess even more.

But I was also lonely, and I missed Jeremy. So I called, apologized, and we started seeing each other again. He of course attributed the break-up to him being too gallant and not wanting to hurt me in any way. Whatever.

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I was surprised when Michelle called. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of months. The last time was when we play-wrestled at her place one night---she took it too seriously and was a really bad sport about it, so she started using really dirty moves, and because I didn’t want to hurt her, I ended up stopping the wrestling. She got pissed and left, and never called---until now.

So we had been seeing each other again now for a few weeks. I have to say, the time she was away she must have spent working out religiously, because man, her body was smoking! She was always hot, but now, WOW! And no way would I play-wrestle with her now---I’d never tell her, but I bet I might have a problem pinning her now.

So we were out one night, having a couple of drinks at my favorite bar, talking about what we were going to do afterwards---she wanted to do RedBox, I wanted to go to a real movie. So as we tried to resolve our impasse, Michelle moved her drink to one side, plopped her elbow on the table, and challenged me to arm-wrestle---winner chooses. She had on just a tank top, as it was July, and even just the slight flex in her arm highlighted how seriously toned she was. “Come on, Mich,” I whispered, “not in public. We’ll do RedBox.” I really just didn’t want people staring at us.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Jeremy. Still petrified of getting your ass kicked by a girl.” But I whirled around, because the statement hadn’t come from Michelle. Peering over from the table behind me was Sandi and some guy. Sandi---my fantasy for a little while, and an ex-colleague. She was referring, of course, to the time where she had walked in on me and a previous fling, Kelly, wrestling around. One thing led to another, and she and Kelly ended up wrestling, which turned into a real brawl, with Sandi quite convincingly kicking her ass---twice. I remember how hard I got at the sight of Sandi’s chiseled arms, legs, and stomach, especially when she flexed in her victory pose over Kelly, her tight body covered in a sheen of sweat, her foot on Kelly’s face, grinding into her until she submitted. She had been an aerobics instructor or something before I worked with her, and then I had heard she went back to doing something like that; we had lost touch, though, so I really didn’t know what she had been up to.

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“Who the hell was this?” I thought. Some blonde skank obviously knew Jeremy and was taunting him about something. I lowered my arm and took a sip of my drink, waiting for Jeremy to introduce me.

“Sandi!” he said. “I’m surprised to see you! It’s been a while.”

“Yup, a couple of years. After I left the office, I started teaching aerobics again. Then I ended up buying my own place, and now I’m a personal trainer. Oh, by the way, this is Todd.” Sandi motioned to her escort---a rather large man, probably 6’ 4” or so, who looked like he lived at her gym. Finally, Jeremy introduced me, “And this is (pause) my friend Michelle.”

Friend? You’re kidding right? I thought. Whatever. I shot a quick smile at her, just long enough to notice that she really needed to eat a cupcake at some point in her life, or a piece of bread. She was ultra-thin, almost bony. How she could ever train anyone in building muscle was a mystery to me.

She cut her eyes at me and said, “I couldn’t help overhearing. I saw Jeremy back down when you wanted to arm-wrestle. How about me? I’ll take you on---if I lose, I’ll pay for your movie.”

I thought about it for a second---I could probably take her bony arm down in about 3 seconds. But that didn’t excite me. Like I said, I wanted a challenge, and I loved to get physical. Holding some skank’s hand for 3 seconds wasn’t my idea of fun.

“That’s OK---maybe some other time. We already made our choice anyway.” She shrugged her shoulders and turned back around at her table to use one-syllable words with her Neanderthal.

Jeremy and I ordered another round (no rush now, since we were just renting a DVD later), and despite my prying, he told me very little about Sandi, only that they had worked together and no, there had never been anything between them. He claimed he had no idea what she meant with the jab about him still being scared of getting his ass kicked by a girl, and frankly, because I knew it was true, I didn’t care too much.

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After another round, I told Michelle I wanted to go. We started to get up from the table, and as I pushed my chair back, I inadvertently backed it into Sandi’s chair. I guess the force caused her to spill her drink. She shot up from her chair, turned around, and slapped me in the back of the head.

“Idiot!” she snapped. “Watch what the fuck you’re doing!”

At the sight and sound of the slap, Michelle shot up from her chair. “Hey, back off skank,” she spit. “Apologize to him---it was an accident.”

So I’m standing, rubbing the back of my head; Sandi’s standing, alternately glowering at me and then at Michelle; Michelle’s standing, waiting for an apology I knew would never come; and Todd (or as I later dubbed him, Re-todd) stayed seated, with a grin slowly coming over his face.

Sandi balled her fists and glared at Michelle. “You called me a skank? Why don’t you just say, ‘San, please beat me till I’m bloody?’ It’s the same result.”

Michelle snorted out a laugh. “Um, whatever, Princess Ethiopia. Just say you’re sorry and we’ll be leaving and you won’t get embarrassed.”

Sandi made a feint towards Michelle, but I put up my arm to stop her. Michelle smirked, Retodd smiled, and Sandi fumed. “You want an apology? You’ll have to force it out of me.”

“My pleasure,” Michelle retorted.

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I could feel my juices flowing. No, she wouldn’t be too much of a physical challenge, but this Sandi girl had a mouth that needed me to shut it, and an attitude that needed me to crush it. Plus, watching me beat the shit out of this slut would turn on Jeremy, so the rest of the evening could be fun.

“I won’t have to force anything, sweetheart,” I said, “You’re going to be begging me to accept your apology.” Recalling my most recent victories, I offered, “How about the parking lot in 5 minutes?”

“Not my style,” Sandi replied. She grabbed her purse, and I tensed for a second, not knowing what she might fish out of there. But her hand emerged with nothing more than a business card. As I held out my hand to take it from her, she jerked it back and instead handed it to Jeremy.

“This is my place---plenty of room, and no interruptions,” she said with a smirk. “You guys can meet us there in 30 minutes. Jeremy, make sure you come.” And with that, she and her guy threw some cash in the puddle of booze on their table, and disappeared out the door.

“We’re going there, you know. Don’t even try to talk me out of it,” I said to Jeremy.

“I wasn’t going to try,” he countered. “I know how you get. I…” he trailed off.

“Fine. What? Say what you were going to say.”

Jeremy fumbled with his words a bit. “Uh, well, I know you’re tough and a good fighter, and, I, uh, but she---I saw her kick Kelly’s ass pretty badly---twice. And she liked it, Mich. She got off on beating her, and I think she really, uh, got off, like literally, on making her suffer and begging for the fight to end.”

“Awww,” I mocked, “Are you worried about little old me? That’s cute. Just remember what I did to your ex-fiancée, Jenna, in the hotel. And while we’re at it, remember what I did to you. I won’t have any problems with Bony Maroney, thank you very much.”

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Sometimes, she made it really hard to be supportive of her. I knew she could knock the crap out of Sandi, but I was a little apprehensive anyway. But the thought of watching two hot blondes writhing around with each other, with one of them dominating the other---well, that trumped any apprehension pretty easily.

We pulled up to the address on the card. Definitely not a gym, maybe a studio? It was hard to tell from the outside since it was dark out, and there were no appreciable windows. We tried the door, and it was unlocked. Michelle led me in. It was a modest, well-lit space, kind of sparse. A few machines and bikes, some free weights, and a corner with piles of mats. Obviously the mats had been piled even higher, but Sandi and reTodd were laying them out, starting from the corner of the room and radiating out, eventually matting out a roughly 12’ x 12’ area.

“I’m kind of surprised you showed,” taunted Sandi. “I figured since you backed out of the arm wrestle, that there’d be no way you’d take me up on this.”

Michelle was uncharacteristically quiet, just eying the matted area and then eying Sandi.

Sandi misinterpreted the silence. “You’re scared. I understand. I would be too if I was about to get the shit beaten out of me. At least you can take some comfort knowing that it’ll be over pretty quickly.”

Michelle smirked, stepped onto the mats, and said, “Whatever---let’s get started.” With that she started to move toward Sandi.

Sandi put her palm quickly. “Whoa, wait up! We’re not ready. We haven’t talked rules, and I’m certainly not fighting you in my club clothes.” As reTodd led me over to the side of the mats where there were a couple of chairs, Sandi kicked off her boots, and slowly started to unbutton her shirt. As she let it slip off her shoulders and fall to the mat, my gaze was affixed on the arms, so feminine but so toned and tight. That is, until she started to unbutton her jeans.

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She was putting on a show, I mused. Stripping down to bra and panties, doing it all slow and sultry to get a rise out of the guys. She certainly had earned the skank moniker I had given her. I wasn’t going to play this game, though. Jeremy would get hard as a rock watching me beat her into submission, like he did when I humiliated Jenna, so I didn’t need to tease him at this point. Not wanting to be a prude (and certainly not ashamed of my smokin’ bod), I peeled off my tank top and threw it over to Jeremy, followed by my sneakers and shorts. I caught Todd checking me out---he liked what he saw.

“OK, you’re out of your Salvation Army club clothes. Now what?”

Sandi sauntered to the middle of the mats, standing about 5 feet away from me. I did a quick once-over of her. I must have had about 20 pounds on her, and, not to brag, I’m like 1% body fat. She was about an inch taller than me, probably 5’ 7” or so. And I have to admit, bony as she was, she was ripped. Arms even more toned than mine, and her abs---shit, they were impressive. Even her calves were tight and toned. She hardly needed to wear the bra, I thought. Breasts were nothing to write home about---I certainly had her beat there. But then my glance rested on her hands. They didn’t match the rest of her body, which, although too thin, was very feminine. Her hands were slightly bigger than they should be for her body---‘man hands’ as Seinfeld would have said. Well, if that, and her emaciation, were her only physical flaws, she was doing OK.

“We need to talk rules,” she was saying. “What do you want allowed? Not allowed?”

I was losing patience. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.” I just wanted to get this thing started. “Wait,” I added. “No faggy hair-pulling. Other than that, I don’t care.”

“Agreed. Fight’s over when you submit. OK?”

“Whatever,” I replied. “What about your boy-toy? Is he going to try and protect you when I’m knocking the shit out of you?”

“You guys,” Sandi called over to the boys, “No interference from you, no matter what. Is that understood?”

Jeremy and Todd looked up from their beers (beers? Where did those come from?!) and both agreed.

It was on.

________________________

So re-Todd and I sat over on the side of the mats while the girls started to get ready. I watched and tried not to drool as Sandi stepped out of her jeans and revealed the tiniest little thong I had ever seen. Well, that is, until Michelle took off her clothes. Shit---these two were hot!! Michelle with a little more meat on her, an absolutely perfect and beautiful body. Sandi---too thin but cut and ripped---even more than the last time I saw her strip down to fight.

I folded and piled Michelle’s clothes (which she had tossed over to me), and Re-Todd reached down to the side and then handed me a cold beer.

“Hey, thanks, man,” I said, genuinely appreciative.

“No big,” he replied. “A little buzz makes these things even more exciting.”

“No doubt,” I said. I took a couple of gulps, and watched as the girls negotiated about rules or doing their hair or something. But Todd’s statement wasn’t sitting well with me. ‘These things’? Does this happen a lot? Does Sandi bring back other girls here to fight while Todd watches? My mind raced back to her fights with Kelly, and how both times, even when Kelly conceded, Sandi kept beating on her until she cried or was knocked out. Then after that was the humiliation. I was now getting a little excited, and a little more scared.

“Is that understood?” Sandi was calling over to us, jarring me from my daydream. I saw Todd nod, so I did too, and took another swig of the beer.

The girls were now at the center of the mats. Sandi with hands on hips, Michelle hands at her side. “Fight!” Todd yelled, and the girls crouched a bit and started circling each other slowly, both now with their hands up, ready to take a swing or block one.

It didn’t look like Michelle was going to be the initial aggressor. Sandi made a couple of feints with her hands, making like she was going to jab at Michelle, but she was just playing with her. The first two times, Michelle went to block the feint, and looked foolish each time when nothing came of it. Sandi did it again, and this time Michelle did nothing. But Sandi did---she grabbed the center of Michelle’s bra and pulled her in, so their chests smashed together. Still holding on to the bra, she then pushed Michelle away from her, then yanked her in again, pretty violently and pretty quickly.

Michelle was unprepared for this and couldn’t get her balance. Sandi kept pulling her in and pushing her out quickly, each time taking a step toward the wall at the perimeter of the mats. When she was about a foot away from the wall, Sandi threw Michelle back again, smashing her into the wall. Still holding on to Michelle’s bra with her left hand, Sandi launched a barrage of lightning-fast jabs at Michelle’s stomach and breasts with her right hand. Michelle tried to push away, but couldn’t because of the hold Sandi had on her bra. Michelle tried to pry Sandi’s hand off, but couldn’t. She used her hands to try and block the jabs, but Sandi was quick, so for every shot Michelle was able to block, Sandi landed two. Michelle tried to double over (either to protect herself or because Sandi had knocked the wind out of her---I couldn’t tell), but she couldn’t as Sandi was holding her up by the bra.

Sandi stopped the assault after another minute, pulled Michelle to her and smashed her into the wall a couple of more times (one time I could hear the back of Michelle’s head smack into the paneling), and then pulled her close one final time, turned around, and still gripping Michelle’s bra, whipped her towards the center of the mats, releasing her grip at the last second. Michelle landed in a heap on the mat, but immediately started getting to her feet.

Sandi’s back was to Michelle as she got to her feet, so she didn’t notice Michelle stagger as she tried to steady herself. Sandi was instead focusing on us. “What do you think, Jeremy? Are you disappointed in her performance?” she taunted. “Don’t worry---I’ll give her another chance.”

Sandi turned back to Michelle and started walking to her. Michelle was steady now, fists balled, but staying put. She clearly was unaware that Sandi had massacred her bra. The thing was stretched beyond recognition, no longer supporting Michelle’s breasts, which were, for all intents and purposes, fully exposed in their perfect form. The bra just kind of hung underneath, almost down to Michelle’s belly button.

________________________

I have to admit, she surprised me with that attack. I simply wasn’t ready, and she kept me off balance with that back and forth shit. And Christ, those punches kind of hurt. But she’s a dirty fighter---grabbing the bra and all---and I have no problem getting down into the gutter too.

I stood in the center of the mats, watching her talk to the boys. I probably should have attacked her while she wasn’t looking, but honestly, I needed to steady myself and think about my next move. She turned around, and started walking toward me. I balled my fists, sure as hell intent on keeping her from grabbing me again. Her hands were pretty quick, so I was watching them to get a hint of next move.

That’s why I didn’t see the kick coming. When she was about 4 feet away she stopped and quickly turned to the side. I saw her foot coming, but it was too late for me to do anything. Her sole smashed into my mouth and nose, and I felt myself being hurled backwards---I think my feet actually left the floor---and I came down hard on my back.

________________________

“Your girl’s getting her ass kicked,” Todd drawled as he handed me another beer, and I saw Sandi’s foot connect with Michelle’s face. Michelle landed about five feet back, hard, on her back, and just lay there, spread-eagle.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “But never count her out. She’s pretty tough.”

Sandi sauntered over to Michelle and stood over her. I figured this was it, she’d put her foot on the chest or face and make Michelle submit. But I was way off. Sandi bent over, grabbed what was left of the bra, and pulled Michelle’s limp body up a bit, shoulders about a foot off the mat. And then with her free hand, she slapped Michelle full force across the face. Then followed up with a backhand slap, and then kept repeating it.

I guess Michelle should have been grateful---Sandi certainly could have punched her in the face repeatedly. But it was of little import. Michelle was still conscious, but took the slaps with no resistance. She just hung there by her tattered bra, arms limp and still on the mat. Sandi appeared to be increasing the force with each successive slap, and I was really getting worried. I started to get up, to go out on the mat and stop the fight. But a massive hand on my shoulder gently pushed me back into my seat.

“Don’t,” Todd said simply. “She won’t do any major damage. If your girl’s tough, she’ll come back and make this a contest. If she’s not, then Sandi is going to play with her.”

Todd probably could have picked me up bodily with one hand, so I thought it wise to accept his sage counsel, and I remained in my seat.

After about half a dozen vicious slaps, Sandi let go of Michelle’s bra and dropped her to the mat. She stood over Michelle for a minute, raised her foot and hovered it over Michelle’s throat. I (mentally) gasped, half waiting in excited anticipation for this final show of dominance, half fearing it, too. But Sandi had a change of heart I guess, and instead came over to where we were. She straddled Todd’s lap and pushed her chest in his face.

“Any sweat?” she asked.

“Dry as a boner,” Todd joked.

Sandi then glanced over to me. “Did you hear that? Kicked her ass and didn’t break a sweat.”

“You mean the fight’s over?” I asked. “I thought someone needed to submit?”

“They do,” called out Michelle, “and I haven’t.”

________________________

The first slap to my face stung so hard all I could do was focus on not crying. My face felt like it was on fire from the kick to my mouth and the slaps, and my stomach and boobs felt like one giant bruise. I couldn’t let her see me cry, and that took precedence over trying to move my arms to block the slaps.

Mercifully, she stopped after 5 or 6 shots. I opened my eyes, and saw her standing over me, her foot poised over my neck. This is it, I thought, she’s going to bring it down on my throat and choke me out. I don’t do well with chokes, I panic and I lose my focus. I can’t let that happen!

But then, nothing. She just walked away, and I lay there for a minute, thanking God and summoning the strength to get up. I sat up, my face still burning, and saw her heading over to the boys. More gloating, I’m sure. I looked down, and saw the vestiges of my bra hanging around my neck. I took it off, threw it to the side of the mats, and slowly stood up.

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“How wonderful!” Sandi said mockingly. “The princess is up so soon! And I see she’s feeling quite confident about her body, going topless. I suppose you want me to go tit for tat too, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Michelle silently fumed at the taunting, but calmly said, “I don’t give a fuck what you wear or don’t wear. The fight’s not over by any means, so cut the chat and let’s go.”

Sandi grinned, gave Todd a kiss, and strolled out to the mat, untying and letting her top fall to the floor behind her. Hands on her hips, she eyed Michelle from top to bottom.

“You’re no match for me, slut. If you want to keep trying, this time you won’t be able to get up on your own, I guarantee you. It’s your call.”

“I’m right here. Bring it on.”

And once again, they slowly circled, each waiting for the other to make the first aggress. Sandi feinted a left jab, and Michelle countered, giving Sandi an opening for a sharp right jab that caught Michelle square in the cheek, knocking her backwards. Michelle shook it off and charged Sandi, grabbing her hands in her own. Sandi powered back, and the two locked their fingers together as their arms rose above their heads.

In profile, it was really an awesome sight---Michelle’s perfect body pushing against Sandi’s chiseled body. The muscles in their arms and legs strained, and from this perspective, I could see Sandi’s back, well-muscled as well, harnessing its strength against her opponent. Michelle was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, which really made me hard.

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I guess that here’s where having ‘man hands’ becomes an advantage, because she was squeezing the shit out of my hands. She started bending my fingers back and because our hands were locked together, I couldn’t break free. She kept bending them, and I had no choice but to start bending my knees as she forced me down. And damn it to hell, as she pushed me down a really quick cry of pain escaped from my lips. It was quick, but she heard it and smiled, and bent my fingers back even more.

I was now kneeling on the mats, my hands over my head, Sandi above me, grinning down at me, pushing down and back harder and harder. My face started to contort in pain, and just as I was about to let out a scream, Sandi released the hold; but just as quickly, still standing over me, she grabbed the back of my neck with both hands and pushed my face into the mat. Then she dropped her bony ass on my head, grabbed my arms at the wrists and turned me over so I was lying on my back, my face under her ass, and my arms immobilized by her grip on my wrists.

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“So, it looks like Sandi’s sitting on your girl’s face,” noted Todd.

It was true, Michelle’s face was buried under Sandi’s ass, the only buffer between naked ass and face being the thin rear strip of Sandi’s thong.

I remembered this---Sandi did it in the fight with Kelly. She ended up smothering Kelly out, then stayed on top of her and flexed for me. That just drove me wild! Did she have some sort of MO? Was she setting up Michelle for the same thing? I think Michelle had a lot more fight in her now than Kelly did at the same juncture, so I was excited to see where this might lead.

Michelle writhed and tried to buck Sandi off, but with her arms immobilized in Sandi’s tight grip, her attempts were feeble. Sandi adjusted to create a seal over Michelle’s face, cutting off her oxygen. As Michelle sensed this, she writhed and bucked even more, but Sandi wouldn’t budge.

“This is what she does,” opined Todd. “She comes out fast and hard and takes the fight out of them, then she takes her time and finishes them slowly.”

Why was he telling me this? So I could prepare myself for Michelle’s defeat? I was ashamed to think that it was already kind of a done deal, especially as I watched Michelle’s body start to slow its writhing and her chest rise and fall more quickly as she fought to take in whatever air she could. Just concede, I thought.

In another minute, her body started to go limp---Sandi maintained her grip on Michelle’s wrists, and did another little adjustment to keep that ass-to-face seal tight.

The words had formed in my mind, and were about to be spoken to Todd---What happens now?---but they were halted by my startle. Michelle kicked up her legs, bent at the waist, and somehow managed to plant her foot under Sandi’s jaw and kicked---hard!

Sandi’s head snapped back and she fell backwards off Michelle and into a heap on the mat, clutching at her neck and jaw. Michelle pounced on her wounded enemy’s back and forced her face to the mat. Pounding on Sandi’s back with one fist, Michelle used her free hand to grab Sandi’s arm and jack it behind her back, bending it up and forcing it higher and higher. Sandi cried out, Michelle grinned, and kept the pressure on.

“Fuck it, let me go!” screamed Sandi.

“Do you give?”

“You’re going to break my arm! Let me go!”

“So you’re giving up?”

Sandi wouldn’t respond with words, just utterances of agony. Michelle kept the pressure on the arm, but realized that she might indeed break Sandi’s arm, and that wasn’t something she was willing to do. So she eased up on the arm, but wrapped her own arm around Sandi’s neck and tightened it into a killer headlock.

I marveled at how the fight had turned and how Michelle was now in control. Sandi’s face started to turn dark red and Michelle poured on the pressure to her neck. Sandi was on all fours, Michelle kneeling to the side, slowly turning so that Sandi couldn’t stay balanced.

“Tell me when you’ve had enough,” offered Michelle.

Sandi tried to speak, but all that came out was a gurgling sound. She lifted one of her hands off the mat and wrapped it around Michelle’s arm and pulled, trying to ease the pressure of the choke. But her efforts were futile---Michelle squeezed even harder, and Sandi’s hand dropped flaccidly back to the mat and her eyes closed. The fight was out of her and her body went limp, the only thing holding it up was Michelle.

Sensing that it was over, Michelle released the headlock and let Sandi flop face first to the mat. Sandi’s hands went instinctively to her throat to massage it, and Michelle looked up at us, and for the first time in almost an hour, started to smile.

I finished my fourth beer and started to stand, since it was clear that the fight, and the night, was just about over. That is, until Todd’s meaty paw pushed me back down again and pointed to the girls.

________________________

I let the slut’s lifeless body fall to the mat, and for an instant mused that I was still undefeated. Sure, this had been my toughest fight, but my strength training was more than a match for her bony body covered with for-show-only muscles. I glanced over at Jeremy and flashed a smile---I was sure he must be hard as steel right now, and I wanted to get him home pretty quickly. I saw him start to get up, but the Neanderthal pushed him back down in his chair.

As Sandi wrapped her arm around my throat, I knew why.

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Shit, I thought, you can’t be serious. Sandi had faked it. As Michelle turned to look at us, Sandi stood up behind her and wrapped her arms around Michelle’s neck. She yanked her up from her knees and returned the favor by trapping Michelle in a headlock. As I watched Sandi squeeze Michelle’s neck, the muscles in her arm bulged and rippled, and my exuberance about the turning tide was short-lived.

Sandi struggled though, trying to maintain the hold. Michelle was covered with sweat, and her slick skin made it hard to keep the grip tight. Michelle felt it too, and kept squirming and jockeying. Sandi took her down fully to the mat, which proved to be a mistake. Michelle slipped out of the hold and grabbed Sandi’s wrists. They locked up and within seconds, Michelle was lying on top of Sandi, stretching her arms over her head, attempting a simultaneous grapevine and pin.

Sandi would have none of that, though. She powered out of the grapevine (slipped out actually) and through sheer strength rolled over to her side, taking Michelle with her. The two continued grappling for several minutes, each trying to battle the effects of their sweat-soaked skin, rolling on and over each other, breasts colliding and mashing each other, legs intertwined, breathing hot and fast.

Michelle pushed Sandi down and got up on her knees. Sandi shot up to her feet and circled around to Michelle’s back. She once again wrapped those muscular arms around Sandi’s throat and slowly squeezed. As Michelle’s hands flew to try to dislodge, Sandi squeezed even tighter and repositioned her arms, with one hand across Michelle’s throat and under her jaw, the other arm squeezing the side of Michelle’s head, and her hand clawing into Michelle’s forehead.

“You like to choke, huh bitch?” spit Sandi through clenched teeth. “Choke on this.” She squeezed tighter, and Michelle futilely tried to break the hold. The choke was so tight that Michelle couldn’t speak. I saw her open her mouth and try to say something, but no sound came out. Sandi lifted Michelle by her neck to increase the pain, pouring on the pressure. Michelle’s eyelids started to flutter, and her grip on Sandi’s arms loosened. She tried to find me to look at me, as if pleading with me to help her, but that dark side of me, the sexually sadistic side, made me stay put and wait for Sandi to finish her off.

It didn’t take long. Michelle’s arms dropped and hung listlessly at her side. Her legs became rubbery, and mucus started coming out of her nose. This was not a fake, like Sandi’s minutes prior. Michelle was out, being held up only by Sandi’s ongoing sleeper hold.

I was so hard, and this was so fucking hot. Even though Michelle was out, Sandi kept her in the hold, now looking over at us and grinning. I felt bad for feeling so aroused. And I think Sandi sensed it.

“What do you want me to do with her, Jeremy?” she asked. “She didn’t submit, so the fight’s not over. Should I continue to see how much more I can do to her?”

I wanted to scream out YES, but I said nothing, staring blankly at this glistening, sculpted woman totally destroy one of the most beautiful female bodies I had ever seen.

“Your silence speaks volumes,” she said mischievously, and she released the choke, letting Michelle fall to the mat in a heap. Sandi knelt beside her, straightened her legs, and slipped off Michelle’s thong. My beautiful Michelle, lying there naked. I felt ashamed. That is, until Sandi took off her thong too, and eased herself on top of Michelle stomach, sliding her body slowly over the stomach to the ribs, on the breasts, using the sweat that coated Michelle’s lifeless body as a lubricant, and sliding her crotch onto Michelle’s throat. Sandi moved back and forth over Michelle’s throat in a slow rhythm, back and forth, gliding easier and more freely with each pass. She inched upward, raised herself up a bit, and posed with her crotch inches above Michelle’s face, dripping down on her nose and lips, looking at me, watching me for a response.

I was mesmerized. I simply stared and waited for what was about to happen.

Sandi didn’t disappoint. While staring right through me, she lowered her throbbing, dripping crotch slowly onto Michelle’s face, and once there, slid around on that angelic face at will, undulating and writhing, speeding up, and then slowing down, sliding around in small circles, and then back and forth, cooing and purring as she swayed. I sensed she had found her spot after several minutes, as her breaths became shorter and her thrusts became harder and faster. She lifted her arm and pointed for a second, and then put it back down as she rode Michelle faster and harder, getting more and more excited sliding down to her chin, up past her lips to the base of her nose, back and forth, harder, faster

“We have to leave,” Todd mumbled to me as he gently placed his hand on my arm.

“Uh, what? I, why?” I eloquently stammered.

“She needs to be alone for a few minutes,” was the reply.

I obediently and disappointingly followed Todd through a door into a small office. He sat on one side of a small desk, and offered me a seat on the other side. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of brandy and two shot glasses. Filling both, he handed one to me. “She’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

It was actually about 15 minutes later, and I had finished my third shot, on top of four beers. I wasn’t intoxicated, but I was certainly approaching the town limit. I heard Sandi call out for Todd, and he motioned to me that we could go back in.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Michelle was on the mat on her stomach, heads up, tears streaming. Her legs were tied together at the ankles, with what looked like her thong. Her arms were tied together behind her back, at the wrists, with the remnants of her torn, stretched bra. But the most horrifying thing was the bungee cord, one end tied around her neck, its other end stretching to her bound ankles. Michelle’s knees were bent so that her feet were about 2 feet off the mat. Her face was wet, and her eyes were wide open as she watched me enter the matted area.

“What do you think?” Sandi smirked. “Pretty ingenious, huh?”

“What the f..,” I started to say as I tried to make my way over to Michelle, predictably stopped by Todd dead in my tracks.

“See, she can keep her legs up for a while, but eventually she’ll get tired and her legs will start to drop,” Sandi explained. “When that happens, the cord tightens around her neck. That may snap her out of it and she’ll lift her legs again. But each time it’ll be harder and harder for her, and eventually, she won’t be able to keep them up. She’ll end up choking herself.”

I couldn’t comprehend what Sandi was saying. Why was she doing this? “What is it that you want?” I slurred.

She slowly stood and walked over to me, her chiseled, glistening body making me hard again, despite the alcohol in my veins and the horror in my sight. She stood right in front of me and put her moist hands on my shoulders, drawing me closer, to within an inch of her naked body. I could feel her hot breath on my cheek, and then in my ear.

“Take off your clothes,” she whispered to me, “because the only way to save her is for you to wrestle, and beat…”

Todd would fucking kill me. There was no way I could beat him, even if I had a gun.

She continued, “…me.”

The End.