Scott's Tag Boxing Adventure Chapter 1

After our fight, Staci let me know that first, she forgave me (phew!), and second, that she'd like to keep boxing; it seemed to give her a real sense of power, even though she'd lost her only match to date. Carol told us that there was such a thing as tag-team erotic boxing and promised to set us up with a match (and to ref it, although she'd basically just be there to keep anyone from getting injured). Cho volunteered herself and a friend of hers to fight us, but I wanted a chance to actually win our debut, so Carol found us an aunt/niece duo with a 2-3 record. Since we were new to the tag scene we'd be getting a "Jamaican rules" match; one fighter per team in the ring at once, plus a sixty-second double-team allowed on tags. Carol sent over some stills of our opponents to check out.

Joy, the older fighter, was in her mid 40's with a middle of the road singles record - she'd retired from one on one matches to mentor and tag with her niece Lindsay, who was all of 19 years old and had only done two-on-two matches. Joy was pretty solidly built, about 5'6" and 180 pounds, sporting the muscled arms, broad shoulders, and slightly beat-up face of a career bruiser, not to mention a nice set of fat, slightly drooping C cup tits that Staci told me to stop staring at. Despite her soft gut, I had no doubt that Joy could pack a lot of power into her punches.
Her niece Lindsay looked like she was built more for speed, lean and slightly toned; she was about the same height as her aunt, but weighed a good 40 pounds less, her pert pert A-cups looking even smaller next to her aunt's chest.

Out of curiosity I found my eyes drifting around the photos; Joy had a mess of brown curls that looked almost like a lion mane, the effect slightly enhanced by her mouth being open in what looked like a roar in most of the photos.

Lindsay had the same dark brown hair, but her was styled into a asymmetrical pixie cut, almost covering her left eye . Her face looked a lot like her aunt's - they had the same grey-green eyes and pursed lips - but Lindsay's face was young and shallow where Joy's was filled out and slightly chubby.

In the pictures both fighters had matching gear - royal purple was the primary color on their trunks, gloves, and boots, trimmed in gold, along with gold bootlaces. Apparently Staci had noticed this while I was busy ogling our opponent's topless bodies as she suggested we get our own matching outfits.
We did, settling on Staci sporting pink shorts, gloves, and boots trimmed with white, topped off with a white silk robe featuring her name in sparkling pink on the back. I had the same in blue (cobalt gloves, trunks, and boots with white trim, and a new white silk robe, my name in blue across the back). This stuff wasn't cheap, but I had to admit it it was high quality - we sure looked the part, if nothing else.

We were also fighting in a nicer gym - this one, over on Pine Street, was much cleaner, and had a full camera setup. (Lindsay's mom was apparently going to watch the recording later - the other team spent a lot of time posing for them, and at one point Joy said "I promised your mom we'd win," ruffling her niece's hair with her glove. Staci just rolled her eyes.)

At the start of the match both teams set out the vets first (and it was weird thinking of myself as a veteran) - I touched gloves with Joy and Carol rang the bell to start the fight.

Joy came at me aggressively right off the bat; I'm guessing she thought that with her experience advantage over me she'd be able to go in for a quick knockout. I weathered her initial furious attack for 20 or 30 seconds (I know it doesn't sound long, but try making sure every punch an experienced boxer is throwing at you fails to connect!) before she left enough of an opening for a counter.

I couldn't get much power behind my punch, but as it sank into Joy's soft tummy I saw her eyes go wide with shock. It felt like hitting a heavy bag, and operating on instinct from endless practice I launched a followup combo of jabs to her face, knocking her guard away, adding more power with each punch until I turned her head with a finishing right cross. I think Joy had underestimated me - I guess understandably as I was bulking up slowly and still looked more like a beanpole than a real boxer.
Despite my lack of muscle mass, I'd gotten my whole body into that last hit, and I could tell Joy was winded. I pressed my advantage, chasing Joy as she backed up, hoping for a knockdown. She had good enough instincts that even dazed she managed to keep me from inflicting serious damage - but at the price of letting me back her into the ropes, which put her in a very dangerous position. She hid behind her guard, covering her head and chest with both hands, and I couldn't get past her gloves there - but she left her midsection vulnerable, and I started pounding lefts and rights into her breadbasket. Lindsay was pleading with her aunt as I worked her over. Joy tried to mount a counter-offensive, but a right between her legs put a stop to that, and I could tell from her pained stance she was having trouble staying on her feet.

In a singles match I'd have been content to keep Joy here and wear her down - for once not having rounds was working in my favor - but she managed to start edging along the ropes towards her corner, where she'd be able to tag out. I had a choice of trying to stop her, which would involve clinching with her, or letting her work her way over there while I kept punishing her gut. I chose the second option, figuring it was no fun knocking her out so quick, and that Staci would want a chance to get in the match. Just to be sure, though, I kept digging rights and lefts into her stomach until she got close enough for Lindsay to reach out and tap her aunt's shoulder.

As soon as Lindsay tagged I backed up quickly, well aware that if I got caught in their corner for the double team, I might not make it out alive. As it turned out I had nothing to be worried about as Joy barely managed to crawl out to the ring apron, holding her stomach and groaning. Behind me I heard Staci calling for a tag and I retreated to our corner, not taking my eyes off Lindsay. Stace reached through the ropes and we tagged. I took my spot on the apron, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me as my girlfriend closed with her opponent.

If Staci was anywhere as nervous as I was, she wasn't showing it; she closed with Lindsay and they started feeling each other out. Staci got in the first really good hit as she plastered Lindsay with a quick left hook to the midsection. In response Lindsay's gloves dropped, and although Joy barked at her to get them back up, it was too late as Staci ripped a right-left-right combo into Lindsay's face. Lindsay went down on her butt, stunned. Staci came over to our corner and kissed me as Carol counted, but Lindsay was back on her feet by three. Staci went back out to face her opponent and walked right into a hard left to the face. Lindsay started hooking punches into her tits and Staci wailed, trying without success to cover up and push her opponent away. Lindsay bent her over with a nasty right straight into her stomach, then stepped in and used a headlock takedown on my girlfriend, flipping her down to the mat. Carol came over and issued a warning both fighters ignored as Lindsay lay on top of Staci, holding the headlock with her left arm, raining punches on the top of Staci's head. Stace managed to get her gloves up over her face and Lindsay reached down towards her feet, hooking one of Staci's flailing legs like she was pinning her in a wrestling match. I can only guess that Lindsay either forgot this isn't the WWE or was trying to hold her still enough to get some punches in, but either way Staci started hitting Lindsay in the back, forcing her opponent to break the headlock. Lindsay rolled off and climbed to her feet, walking over to her corner and conferring with her aunt while Staci slowly got up.

They decided not to tag and both fighters closed. Staci was covering her reddening tits, and she managed to prevent Lindsay from landing any hits on them; to my eye she left her guard a little too open over her head and tummy, but Lindsay didn't seem to notice, coming in with a telegraphed series of jabs that Staci blocked. My partner's counter-punch was a little off target, almost bouncing off Lindsay's side and leaving her exposed. Lindsay socked her in the jaw and Staci covered her head and stepped back. I thought she was in big trouble, but she managed to keep a frustrated Lindsay at bay, jabbing at her face every time Lindsay tried to close. Joy shouted for her niece to get Staci into their corner, and Lindsay made a good attempt, but to my relief Staci had enough ring sense to stay out of the danger zone. Seeing that this was getting nowhere Joy called for a tag.

Lindsay touched gloves with her aunt and Joy came right at Staci, forgoing the double team in her zeal to be at my girlfriend. Stace flicked a quick jab that Joy ducked, and I watched in horror as Joy drove her fist right through the holes in Staci's defense Lindsay had missed - the older fighter ripped a jab combo to Staci's stomach, most of the hits landing square on her waistband, drawing Staci's hands down and leaving her open for a hard right hook that landed square on Staci's jaw. She turned with the impact, taking a stuttering half-step, then going down on one knee. Before Carol could start counting, Joy punched Staci hard in the back of the head, and my girl went down on her chest with a splat.

I seethed as Joy reached down and peeled Staci's trunks off, hooking the big thumbs of the gloves around the waistband and whipping them off like an old pro. Staci rolled over as Carol walked up and slowly started counting. I locked eyes with Joy, just the hint of a smile on her face as Staci groaned and started getting up. Carol gave her a standing eight count and waved the fighters on.

Staci looked quite pissed and charged Joy. She wasn't quite swinging wildly, but her punches lacked the precision to get past Joy's guard, and the older fighter waited for a wild punch, then stopped Staci short with a uppercut to the stomach. Staci gasped and stepped back, her gloves too low, leaving her wide open for Joy's followup head-hunting combo. She started with a left jab to the jaw and worked up to a right cross that put Staci down on her back. Joy sat down on her opponent's stomach and started laying punches into Staci's head, smacking her face one way and then the other. Carol came up behind Joy and pulled her off - not quickly enough for my taste - but it looked like the damage was done; Staci barely beat the count and looked dangerously wobbly when she got to her feet. I called for a tag and she backed into our corner, turning to bump gloves with me.

Joy started backing towards her own corner as I climbed between the ropes. I toyed with the idea of trying to cut Joy off and punish her during our allotted sixty seconds, but Staci looked like she could barely stand, and I waved her out of the ring. She blew me a kiss for luck and climbed out as I squared off against Joy.

I have to admit that at this point I underestimated Joy as she'd underestimated me; I came at her hoping to repeat my earlier success weathering her assault and punishing her for a missed punch, but I rapidly found myself losing ground under a rain of jabs and quick hooks, too busy dodging and dancing to take any return shots. We'd met in the middle of the ring and I didn't have a great deal of space to work with; the image of Joy trapping me on the ropes as I had with her flashed in front of my eyes and I started trying to go around her. She blocked a lunge to the left, but I pivoted quickly and got past her on the right.

I don't know if this was her plan all along or my ring sense failed me, but as we squared off again I realized with a start that Joy had now cut me off from the rest of the ring; my back was pointed towards her corner. I tried to make another move around her, but this was the obvious play and she got in my way, sinking the point of her elbow into my stomach. I gagged and had to lean against her to avoid falling down. She clinched me, her arms locking mine against my body, then started pushing me towards her niece. Before I could even try to brace my feet we were there, my back hitting the padded ringpost.

I thought for sure they were going to tag, but Joy just held me helpless as Lindsay fumbled with my trunks. I shot Carol a pleading look, but Lindsay had my shorts down around my ankles before Carol arrived and told Joy to either tag her niece or break. Joy nodded at Lindsay, who made the tag, and Carol started counting, slowly. Joy released the clinch, but before I could move my arms Lindsay wrapped me up in a full nelson. I was hard despite myself as Joy pressed against me, her soft bare tits rubbing my chest. She fit my cock between her silk-covered legs, then began moving her hips back and forth; I groaned despite myself, the warm, smooth pressure of Joy's soft inner thighs and the cool silk making a wonderful sensation. She started grunting each time her hips smacked into mine, torturing me with pleasure. I leaned against Lindsay, leaking pre-cum that stained Joy's trunks. Just to make things worse Lindsay was keeping up a stream of dirty talk into my ear, taunting and teasing me about how I couldn't last and shouldn't even try.
As Carol hit 30, Joy switched positions, coming to my left side, fitting my cock into the hole on her right glove. I bit down a moan as it slid all the way. Joy started gloving me, clearly looking to get me to finish before the double-team ran out. Her purple glove was a blur, but I held on, sweating and panting, clinching my stomach muscles as I tried to endure.

I made it, barely; Carol came in and made a frustrated Joy leave off. Lindsay still had the full nelson on, but I used this to my advantage, leaning forwards and flipping her over my back. The hold broke and Lindsay screamed in surprise, hitting the mat hard as Carol had to hold Joy back from attacking me. I made a mad dash for our corner, but Lindsay lashed out with her leg and tripped me as I ran past. I went down awkwardly on my side next to Lindsay, who took advantage of Carol's distraction to slam her right knee into my face. I rolled over onto my back, stunned. Carol turned at the sound of Lindsay's knee cracking into my nose, turning too slow to see the move itself, but in time to come over and start counting me out. Lindsay shoved her away, then rolled me onto my chest. She put her foot on the back of my head, pressing my face into the mat. "Kiss the canvas, loser!" she howled.

I managed to get up to my knees (made no easier by her boot still pressing into my head) by four, then my feet by eight. I was in bad shape and knew I needed to tag as Carol waved us on. I was in a bad spot, with Lindsay between me and our corner; I hoped my experience edge would be enough to let me past her.

It wasn't. I was too hurt and tired to execute my plan, only getting halfway around Lindsay before she wrapped her arms around me and wrestled me down to the mat. I guess by now I should have been used to the rules not being enforced, but for some reason I still expected Carol to call a foul or break us up; instead she just came over and watched us as Lindsay kept me in a bearhug. Staci was calling for a foul with no luck, and I only escaped as Lindsay broke the hold and drew her arm back for a punch. She took just a bit too long and I slammed a quick left into her face - I couldn't get much power behind it, but I guess it surprised Lindsay as she was knocked over on her back.
We both got up, but Lindsay made it to her feet first, and before I could get my gloves up she ran at me and gave me a huge shove. I went flying backwards - straight into Lindsay and Joy's corner.
I wanted to scream in frustration as Lindsay charged in and tagged her aunt. I threw a wild punch at her head, trying to back her off, but she slipped it and countered with a hard hit to my stomach. She drove me back into the corner as Joy climbed into the ring. Carol came over and slowly started counting the sixty second double team. Joy and Lindsay pulled me out of the corner, Joy slipping behind me and holding my arms at my sides and yelling for Lindsay to "Glove him!"
She obliged, pressing against me and fitting my dick into the hole in her glove. She started pumping me, roughly, trying to get me to cum as quick as possible. It was going to be torture getting to sixty seconds. Lindsay laughed as I groaned in pleasure, trash talking me and telling me to just cum as the supple, buttery leather slid up and down my shaft. Joy leaned forward, her tits mushrooming against my back, and started sucking on my neck as her niece worked my cock.

I did everything I knew of to hold on; it felt like hours before Carol even called 30, and by 50 I was sure I was going to lose it. I kept my eyes open and stared across the ring at a pissed Staci, and I really think that's the only thing that let me hold on. Somehow I did, and at sixty Carol ordered Lindsay off, who gave me one last stroke that almost finished me there. Instead of releasing me, Joy lifted me up and slammed me to the mat chest-first, only releasing the full nelson as Carol started counting. Considering that my rock-hard prick had been all of two seconds from the point of no return, getting it slammed into the mat hurt as much as it probably sounds like, and I counted myself lucky to be able to stumble up to my feet by eight. My only lucky break was that Carol had made Lindsay back off, and I was able to charge into our corner and tag my girlfriend in.

As I stepped outside the ring and slumped against the ringpost Staci came in like an avenging angel, pouncing on a unprepared Lindsay, driving her back with punch after punch. Lindsay mounted a futile, frantic defense, trying to push Staci away or clinch with her, eating lefts and rights to the head any time she came too close. One particularly vicious tit punch slammed Lindsay's small left breast into her ribs, dropping her defenses totally as she let out a sob, one purple glove covering her chest. Staci put all of her power into an uppercut that laid Lindsay out flat on her back. She didn't even stir as Carol counted her out.

With shocking speed we'd scored our first knockout and Staci raised her gloves over her head, soaking in my cheering and applause. Carol called for a quick break, making sure Lindsay was okay and helping her back to her corner. Staci came over to me, pulling me over the ropes for a quick kiss. She broke it off as Carol summoned her to the center of the ring to finish the match.

Joy had stormed out of the other team's corner, and it looked for a second like the two fighters were going to kill each other, but Staci's adrenaline high had just ended and she only managed a too-slow hook before she started taking a ferocious beating from a furious Joy. I yelled for a tag but Staci couldn't get near our corner as Joy was pounding her like a heavy bag, slamming punch after punch into Staci's face, chest, and stomach. Joy floored her with a heavy right to the temple, then pushed Carol away as she came in to count. Joy rolled Staci onto her back, kicking her legs apart, then landed a punch right between her legs.

Staci sat up with a scream, just to have Joy put her back down with a crushing hook. I couldn't control myself and started climbing through the ropes. Carol came over and pressed me back. Over her shoulder I saw that Joy had sat down on Staci's stomach and was laying punches into my limp girlfriend's face. I turned Carol around and she went over to break it up, but the damage was already done; Staci didn't move as Joy stripped her trunks off, and barely stirred as Carol started counting her. Joy apparently wanted to hurt her more as she shoved Carol away a few times, forcing the count to restart, but it was clear that Stace was done for, and Joy finally let Carol count her out as my blood boiled.

As soon as the "Knockout!" had left Carol's lips I was through the ropes, coming at Joy. The tables seemed to be turned now as Joy's own adrenaline burst was over; she was covered in a thick sheen of sweat, panting, and to my eye, barely able to keep her gloves up as we closed. She came at me and went for my crotch, throwing a too-slow right I pushed out of the way. In return I launched a combo into her chest, smacking her big tits around as she howled. I followed that up with a right to her soft tummy, drawing a deep moan. She tried to clinch, but I punched her right in the mouth, turning her away from me. She bent over and I went down on one knee, launching an uppercut between her legs.

That put Joy down on her face, and I didn't lose any time working her trunks down to her ankles, then off. Carol came up and started counting; a groaning Joy made it up by eight.

My opponent was wrecked, far too slow to effectively fight back as I came in and started slamming punches into her face. Despite how beat up she was I figured her well-padded body could take a lot of punishment, so I went headhunting, throwing stomach and crotch shots in to pull her sluggish guard down when necessary, and giving her tits a good working over just for revenge.
Joy was backing up under my assault, and before she got knocked out she ended up with her back to the ropes. This time she had nobody to tag, let alone the stamina to escape; I draped her arms over the top ropes and really let loose, ripping punch after un-answered punch into her. One particularly hard right to her stomach bent her over and she came off the ropes, falling to her knees. I put one glove under her chin and tilted her head up, our eyes locking. "Don't move," I growled. I pushed my hips forward, the tip of my cock rubbing against her lips. I pushed it in to her warm mouth and started fucking her face.

Joy was beyond resisting and just kneeled there submissively as I hammered my dick in and out, spit dripping down her chin after a few strokes. I put my gloves behind her head and started doing short strokes, only taking my rod half out before plunging it back in. I threw my head back, losing myself in pleasure. I went beyond the point of no return, cumming down Joy's throat, still humping her mouth. Joy gagged as I came, but I didn't care; I pulled my dick out and she coughed up a mix of spit and jizz. I rubbed the head of my cock over her face, liberally smearing more of my cum and her spit. Then I forced her down to the mat for the obligatory ten count. I put my foot on Joy's face, arms high in the air as Carol counted the victory.

Staci had recovered enough to come out and hug me, then Carol held up both our arms and declared us the winners. We were entitled to get off on the losers (you wouldn't want to drain your energy getting off during the match; apparently if you knocked out one boxer and then lost the match, you were just straight up out of luck), and Carol summoned a beaten Lindsay and Joy to the middle of the ring.

We went for Joy first, laying her down on her back. Staci sat on her face while I went between her legs. I hefted her thick thighs up on my shoulders and started fucking her while Staci ground her pussy against Joy's face. Being that close to my girlfriend vocally getting off didn't help my endurance, nor did the sloppy kiss she pulled me into. When Staci broke the kiss she leaned back and started playing with her clit.
I don't know if Joy came, but it was impossible not to notice Staci's climax, her hips pressing into Joy's face as she cried out in pleasure. Belatedly I picked up the pace, hoping to match her, but I was less sensitive than usual after cumming once. Staci finished and came down, still seated on Joy's face. She started egging me on, leaning down for a better look as I kept hammering Joy. With her encouragement I didn't last much longer, flying over the edge and cumming deep in Joy's pussy as Staci chanted for me to "fill up that fat old cunt".
Finished, I pulled out and spared Joy a glance as Staci gingerly climbed off - Joy was as beaten as anyone I've ever seen, her face coated in her sweat and drool, my cum, and Staci's juices. For extra measure some of my jizz was leaking out of her hairy pussy as Staci posed over her.

Next up was Lindsay, who had her arms crossed defiantly. Staci went and got a toy from our ring bag - a strap-on dildo, eight inches long and the same hot pink as her ring gear. Carol helped her into it, and Staci walked to the middle of the ring and had me lay down. She pushed a scared Lindsay down on top of me and went behind us, getting on her knees and giving Lindsay's butt a slap.
I lined my cock up with Lindsay's pussy, holding her hips still as I trust up into her. Lindsay moaned, wrapping her arms around me and hanging on as I started slowly fucking her. I had only gotten a few strokes in when Staci started rubbing her strapon up against Lindsay's butthole. I bottomed out in Lindsay and stayed there as Staci worked the dildo up Lindsay's ass. Then we really started going at her; I had a brief idea of matching strokes with Staci, but this was a little bit of an advanced maneuver for our first time, and I just started fucking Lindsay for my own pleasure. Having cum twice, I'd lost a good bit of sensitivity, but Lindsay pressing her naked, sweaty body against me didn't help, and neither did her hanging her head so her lips were right next to my ear as she emitted a long string of soft moans as we fucked her ass and pussy.

I spared a thought for her mom watching this on tape; I idly wondered if she was going to fast-forward this part. Staci was holding Lindsay's hips securely and I loosed my grip up, concentrating on giving Lindsay long, slow thrusts. Lindsay had gone limp, but she briefly came to life in a slow-building orgasm; her grip on my torso got tighter, the low panting breaths slipping out of her mouth raising up into a fevered scream as she raised her head. Her pussy flexed tight around my cock, and I felt Staci grabbing one of my hands, squeezing it tight as I went over the edge myself, hilting in Lindsay as I spurted into her cunt.

The moment seemed to last for quite a long time; Staci's hand wrapped in mine, Lindsay's howl of pleasure, an explosion of ecstasy and release as I shot my load. Then it ended in a second, my cock popping out of Lindsay as she totally collapsed on top of me, Staci left kneeling as Lindsay fell off the strapon. I took a breath and then pushed Lindsay off me gently. Staci helped me to my feet and we posed in victory, sealing it with a kiss.

We were on our way.

Tags update

I've realized I have some fans out there who don't enjoy incest - I really can't blame anyone who gets squicked out by this, so from here on out, I'm going to be tagging all incest-free stories with the tag "no incest" (you can tell I've spent a long time thinking about this). So, using that link should show you only non-incest stories for your enjoyment. I'll also be retroactively adding the tag to already posted stories when I get around to the big cleanup I've been meaning to do for a while.

The Exes Problem (M/F and F/F)

“Hey, pussy boy.” I looked up as my fiance’s ex plopped into the seat next to me. “Heard you’re getting hitched to my girl.”

“Hello, Valentina,” I sighed. “Yes, I asked Kimberly to marry me, and she said yes. And she’s not your girl anymore.” Valentina’s face was already wearing the shit-eating grin that always got on my nerves, no matter how much I tried to ignore her. “It’s been six years. Why don’t you just move on?”

“Please,” she tucked her long black hair behind one ear, “like she could be happy with a pussy boy like you. I know you’re not woman enough for her.” (Well, I guess that was true?) “She’ll come back to me eventually.”

“Whatever.” I tried to go back to reading my book and keeping an ear out for my order number to come up. I was used to Valentina’s annoying, unwelcome presence by now; she had a habit of showing up wherever me or my fiance went. Frankly, it had been a long six years. Not that I held her ex against Kimberly; I had my own clingy ex we both had to deal with as well. We tried to laugh about it, but I really wasn’t in the mood today, and it didn’t get any easier as Valentina stared at my Kindle screen.

“What are you reading, nerd?”

It was The Crimson King, but I knew enough not to encourage Valentina by telling her the truth; the easiest thing to do was get her wound up so she’d leave or get thrown out. “A guidebook for dealing with annoying, clingy ex-girlfriends.”

“Oh yeah? Why would you need that?” She stuck her head under my left arm, forcing it up so she could get a better look at the screen, displaying her annoying disregard for personal space. “Who’s Magnus?”

“He’s - “ I stopped myself, remembering not to let her drag me into any kind of conversation. “Is there something you want, or are you just following me around again?”

“Weeellll, pussy boy, I was thinking about that little wedding. I thought it would be fun, getting drunk and when the priest is like, ‘if anyone objects,’ and I would stand up and -”

“You’re not invited!”

“Oh, I know. But you can’t keep me out. Saturday the 23rd at 1542 Oakview, arrive by 3 PM -” Fuck! How had she figured that out? I hadn’t posted anything about it on Facebook, and we’d skipped making a wedding announcement just to keep her and my own ex out. I guess by now I should have been used to her getting this kind of information, but I’d allowed myself to hope she wouldn’t find out this time. Apparently savoring my angry look, she flashed that shit-eating grin again. “Now, pussy boy, I’ll stay away, on one condition.” She pulled her head out from under my arm. “You agree to fight me.”

This was something she’d been after for years and years and years with no success. Besides the fact that I didn’t want to beat up a girl, I also didn’t see the upside for agreeing to fistfight my girlfriend’s ex; I’m sure she had all kinds of twisted shit to unleash on me if I lost, and if I won, what would I have gained? It’s not like she would have stopped harassing me and Kimberly. “Think it over,” she smirked. “Go home and ask my girl what she wants to do. I’ll be waiting.” She got up and left, leaving me to frantically text my fiance.

In the end we decided we had no choice; getting drunk and making a scene at the wedding is exactly the kind of thing we’d come to expect from Valentina, and if there was even a chance we could avoid an incident, I thought it was worth taking the chance. I emailed Valentina, who sent back a delighted message with a time, a place (her apartment), and a set of rules: Kimberly had to come along and watch the whole fight, and the winner got to do whatever they wanted with the loser. Kim grimly packed up her Mickey Mouse backpack with tools to punish Valentina with if I won - the big electric razor to shave her, handcuffs to leave her cuffed to some heavy furniture or a heating pipe, and a red ball gag (“to shut her up for once,” Kim seethed). I was sure Valentina had her own things she was planning for me, which I tried to put out of her mind.

When we got there on the night in question, Valentina answered the door in a white silk bathrobe, then let us in and proudly showed off the fighting area - she’d cleared a large open area in her bedroom, the floor covered in thick cream carpeting that should at least cushion any falls a little bit. Kimberly took her seat on the bed and Valentina whipped off her bathrobe, revealing that she was wearing just a hideous rainbow leopard print bottom, her big natural tits hanging free. Her large, dark nipples were already hard - with excitement, I decided, since the room was pretty warm.

As I stripped down to my shorts I gave her body a long look - nothing pervy, trying to get a handle on how the fight would go. I had a little height on her - my near-six feet to her five and a half or so - but neither of us were really in great shape; I’m a little on the thin, reedy side of normal, and Valentina is more towards the fleshy side; she’s not fat exactly, but very curvy with large tits, wide hips and a big bubble butt. Her skin was medium dark under the bright overhead light, and her long, dark black hair looked like I could get a good grip on it; she was already tucking her hair behind her left ear, and I hoped she might absentmindedly do it during the fight as well and give me an opening.

“You ready, pussy boy?” She put her fists up, and I did the same.

“Ready.”

“Noooooooooo mercy for this pussy boy!” she yelled and came on, throwing punches. I caught a few on my arms and fists, but she surprised me with a low one that went under my hands and smacked into my stomach. The pain was more intense than I had imagined and I froze, letting Valentina slip a straight right through my guard, landing square in my face.

I stumbled backwards with my arms over my head and Valentina followed me, kneeing me in the stomach and bending me over, then before I knew what was happening she grabbed me and tossed me over her. I landed hard on my back, the carpet not as soft as I hoped, and as I looked up into her shit-eating grin it occurred to me that I may have fallen into a trap; the fight had come upon me so quickly I hadn’t had any time for training, but for all I knew she’d been hard at work for months. This certainly seemed to be the case as she grabbed two handfuls of my red hair and pulled me to my feet, then hip-tossed me back down to the ground, leaving me hurt and winded. She straddled my midsection, grinning down at me, and I realized she was about to drop all of her weight on me; at the last second I managed to scoot up on the carpet, leaving her to sit down heavily with a grunt. This gave me enough time to get to my feet and she did as well, taking up her boxing stance from the start of the fight with her fists in front of her face. I decided to try fistfighting with her again; maybe the first time had been a fluke. I closed with her swinging punches at her head, but I couldn’t land a solid hit; she took my punches on her fists or forearms, or weaved back away from my hands, or ducked under my blows. After a half dozen whiffs she hit back, coming up from a duck with a hard short uppercut that hit me in the stomach. I managed not to bend over or throw up at the impact, but my hands dropped and Valentina hit me with a right hook to the jaw so powerful I turned with the blow, landing on the carpet on my chest.

Valentina put her foot on my back, and in a haze of pain I thought she was just showing off, but a second later I felt her get a solid grip on my shorts and underwear and start pulling them off. I had enough sense to reach down and try to hold on to my bottoms, but it was too late; she pulled both items off and I rolled over to see her holding them over her head for my fiance, cackling. She tossed them away and looked down at me with that grin of hers.

“This all you got, pussy boy?” She put her right foot under my balls, lifting my junk up for a better look. “Don’t know how you can keep her satisfied with this thing.” To my intense embarrassment, I was getting hard, and this didn’t escape her notice either: “You enjoying this, pussy boy? Well” - she lifted her foot up for a stomp, and with speed born of terror I backed away from her, getting into a defensive crouch on one knee. Valentina put her fists up in her boxing stance again; I knew by now there was no way I could match her in a fistfight, but I wasn’t sure what else to do as I got to my feet and put my hands up as well. Maybe I could wrestle with her? I knew men were generally stronger than women, and I changed my stance, holding my hands out open in front of me, challenging her to a test of strength, hoping her pride would lead her to underestimating me, trying to overpower me. I came at her slowly, and sure enough Valentina lowered her fists slightly, and as she got into range, she lunged forward and we locked hands. For a second I thought I’d made a big mistake as she was stronger than I’d anticipated; she couldn’t force my hands down, but she made me take a few steps back as I tried to brace my feet against the carpet. I managed to find my footing and slowly start pushing Valentina back; her grunts of effort were music to my ears as I got the upper hand. I forced her back to where we’d first locked up in the center of the room, and my heart pounded as Valentina’s hands slowly started going down. Her face was reddening with effort and we were both sweating, but I was in control now; she was forced down to one knee, and I was already thinking about what I was going to do to her when I got her on the floor when she rolled backwards, planting one foot in my stomach and monkey flipping me over her head.

Once again I found myself laying flat on my back looking at the ceiling. This time Valentina didn’t use a move that required any setup that would give me a chance to move out of the way; the next thing I knew she was sitting on my face, rubbing her crotch over my nose and mouth. I became aware she’d gotten excited during our fight as her thin underwear was soaked with her juices where she ground her pussy against my face.

For a second I just lay there in shock; coming to my senses I started pushing up against her large ass, but I couldn’t get the leverage to shift her weight. She’d been content to just ride my face until I started moving; when she felt my hands on her rump she reached behind her and grabbed two handfuls of my hair, pulling my face deeper between her legs. I tried to reach up and get her wrists to break her hold, but I couldn’t manage it. Valentina leaned back, the only thing keeping my nose from going up her ass the thin, butt-sweat soaked materials of her bottoms. I felt her feet close around my embarrassingly hard cock, trapping my shaft between her high arches; she must’ve shifted position so she could do this. I knew if she made me cum I’d be in big trouble, but pushing her off had failed and I wasn’t sure what else to try. The lack of air underneath her large butt combined with her resistance-sapping footjob was already making it hard to think. Luckily, it came to me before I came myself - I lifted my legs up off the carpet, thinking I’d be able to snap them shut over Valentina’s head or neck and wrench her off me. In practice, she saw this move coming and grabbed both my ankles, pulling my legs straight up and splitting them like a V, which at least stopped her feet from stroking my shaft. I felt her weight shift again as she leaned forward, releasing my left leg, keeping her grip on my right ankle; her free hand replaced her feet on my dick and she started briskly jerking me off. I’d managed to get myself into an even worse position! I pounded my fists on the soft carpet in frustration. Knowing my fiance was watching her ex destroy me only made it worse. Feeling myself coming close to the edge, I tried to calm down and think. I had one leg free and I laid it flat on the carpet before kicking up and back, aiming for Valentina’s face. I hit something (I think her chest) and it was enough to dislodge her; the overhead lights almost blinded me as she fell off me backwards with a surprised yell. I knew I had to get up before she finished me and got to my knees facing her as quickly as I could, but I was winded and she was already on her feet, charging me. Acting on pure instinct I threw myself backwards and lay flat as she charged passed, the football punt she’d aimed under my chin going wild. She must have put all her momentum into this as she rather ungracefully fell down a few steps later. This gave me enough time to get to my feet, and Valentina got up herself, looking less winded than I’d hoped. She put her fists up and advanced on me. I knew I couldn’t match her in a fistfight and resolved to surprise her, putting my hands up for a test of strength; she warily changed her grip like she was going to accept, but as we closed I lunged forward, grabbing the waistband on her bottoms and pulling them down to her feet. I had a notion of pulling on them while they were around her ankles to trip her, but she surprised me by just stepping out of them, leaving me looking up at her grinning face.

“You enjoying that view, pussy boy?” She landed a wicked kick that hit me in the face and I went flying backwards, my back hitting the carpet, still holding her underwear. Too late I saw her straddling my midsection, and she dropped her weight down, her large ass slamming into my stomach. I barely had time to brace a little, and I think that’s all from saved me at barfing at the pain and shock of her ass drop - which was small consolation as she still knocked the wind out of me. My hands flopped to my sides, dropping her underwear, as I coughed and gagged. Valentina paused to smile at Kimberly before turning back to me, grabbing both of my wrists and pinning them next to my head, then leaning down; the last thing I saw was the wide brown valley between her tits as she applied a sitting breastsmother on my face.

I was in a very bad spot, but it could have been worse; it seemed Valentina had spent more time working on her boxing and grappling skills than this move, as even with her huge tits hanging on either side of my face, I was able to turn my head and catch occasional breaths; not enough to be comfortable, certainly, but enough to keep her from smothering me out. If she could use her hands I think she’d have been able to finish me right here, but she had to use them to hold me down and sort of had the tiger by the tail.

Of course, I couldn’t do anything from where I was either; my hands were trapped, and Valentina was too far forward for me to be able to knee her in the back and unseat her. All I could do was lay there as my opponent perspired on top of me. When she realized that the smother wasn’t working as well as she hoped, she leaned up just a tiny bit and started rubbing her tits all over my face; I caught one in my mouth she froze as I started gently sucking it. For a blissful second I thought she was going to let me work her over like this but she must have realized the danger as she slid down my body, leaving us face to face. She reared back and I stared at her dumbly wondering what she was doing until she gave me a vicious headbutt, smacking the hard upper part of her skull into my face; I was left reeling, seeing double and feeling a small, warm trickle of blood seeping out from just under my hairline.

Valentina slid down my body until she was between my legs, looking up at me; by the time I came to enough to realize the danger it was too late, her left hand latched solidly onto my balls and her right index finger pressing against my asshole.

“You know what’s coming now, pussy boy?” I looked down at her and shook my head in terror. “I’m gonna get your boy pussy.” With that she pushed her finger up my ass. Instinctively I tried to close my legs around her hands, but a firm squeeze on my nuts convinced me to relax. All I could do is lay back and gasp as she worked her index finger all the way in. Her other hand came off my balls - no longer needed to control me as she started finger-fucking my asshole- and went to my cock, which had deflated; she quickly got me hard again with a ring grip using her index finger and thumb, changing to a whole-hand jerkoff as I became painfully erect against my will. I knew I had to do something or I was about to lose the match; the fog of embarrassment and pleasure from her hands cornholing me and stroking my cock left my legs weak, and the only other thing I could do was lean up, grunting with effort, thinking I could reach between my legs and and at least stop her hand from going up and down my shaft. I did manage to stop this, but not by grabbing her hand; seeing me move, Valentina fit my cock between her pillowy tits, and I was left just brushing her nipples with my fingers as she flashed that god-damned grin at me. “Aw, pussy boy, look at that. I made your little weenie disappear!”

I knew that to lean back meant accepting defeat, but I was simply out of gas; I didn’t know what else to do, and surrendering to the inevitable, I laid flat on my back with a moan as she titfucked me. With her finger still reaming my ass, she only had one hand free to hold her breasts together around my cock, but I found that this was all she needed to destroy my resistance; I was too far gone to last more than a dozen up and down strokes of her bare boobs on my shaft. “You’re finished, pussy boy. Are you gonna shoot for me now?”

“No,” I lied. “No - no - aaaaaaaaahhhhh!” I started spurting between her tits, hearing myself cry out pathetically as she made me cum, her invading finger switching from a pistoning motion to staying fully inserted, tickling my prostate.

Suffice to say by the time I was finished cumming, the fight was finished too; Valentina popped her finger out of my asshole and stood over me, planting one bare foot on my face as she posed for my fiance. All I could do was stare at the overhead light and gasp as Valentina went to her bag of tricks; I heard Kim gasp, and when I had enough energy to crane my head up I saw that my opponent was wearing a strapon harness with a long, neon pink dildo attached. She winked at me while stroking it. “Looks like mine’s bigger, pussy boy.” She swaggered over to where I was still laying on the carpet and kneeled on my shoulders, swinging her hips back and forth, the strapon less than an inch from my mouth. “You ready to beg for me now, pussy boy?”

“Please,” I managed.

“Please what?” She smacked me in the face with the strapon.

“Please don’t use - “ before I could finish she pinched my nose shut, and when I had to open my mouth to breathe, she jammed the strapon in so far I gagged. She got a two-handed grip on my hair and started fucking my mouth, grunting and panting over me as she hammered the strapon so far into my mouth I thought I might throw up. After a rough minute or two of this she backed off a little bit, pulling out so the dildo was waving in front of my lips. “Better suck my dick real good, pussy boy! You know where it’s going after this! Get it nice and lubed up!” she slapped me in the face. I opened my mouth and started sucking her cock, trying and failing to ignore her taunting laughter. I attempted to leave as much spit as possible behind, but I’d never done this before, and I guessed it just had to be good enough as she climbed off me.

“Now, pussy boy, am I gonna do you missionary or doggy?” She aimed her shit-eating grin at my disgusted fiance. “Kimberly, which one do you want to see?”

“Neither,” Kim spat. “Why don’t you just let him up and we’ll leave?” Ignoring this, Valentina turned to look back at me, still grinning.

“Well, pussy boy, I don’t want to see that dumb face of yours, so I think we’re gonna do doggy. I’m going to get off you, and you’re gonna get on all fours like a good little pussy boy, right?” I nodded, resolved that I’d lost and would have to take my licks, hoping to just get it all over with as quickly as possible. She lifted off me and I rolled over onto my chest and then got to my hands and knees. She came up behind me and I gasped as she spit into my asshole, then pressed the tip of her strapon against my entrance. It slid in and I heard myself moaning pathetically as she worked it all the way in to the hilt; it hit my prostate and my cock started getting hard again, embarrassment and pleasure mixing in my mind as my fiance’s ex started fucking my ass. “Ever been fucked like this before, pussy boy? Ever been cuckolded by a lesbian, pussy boy? You know that’s next!” She got a one-handed reacharound grip on my cock and started jerking me off. I was a grunting, rock-hard, humiliated mess unable to stop my fiance’s ex from doing whatever she pleased with me. “Ahh, looks like you love it, pussy boy! Kim, you seeing this?” she shouted. “This is the only thing men are good for!” Her free hand gave my ass a wicked slap, then grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back so I made eye contact with my fiance. Kim was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, an incredibly pissed look on her face; I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see how angry and disappointed she was with me. Despite everything, Valentina’s hand stroking my cock and her strapon stimulating my prostate was too much for me; to add the cherry on top my tormentor noticed how close I was getting, her hand moving even faster up and down my shaft. “Here it comes, Kim! Watch this! Pussy boy’s gonna give it all up for me!” I came, my entire body shaking as I shot spurt after spurt of cum straight down on Valentina’s carpet. She milked me dry, then pushed me down into my own cum. She got on top of me, the strapon still buried in my ass. She yanked my left arm up behind my back and tugged my engagement ring off, slipping it over her own finger with a little bit of trouble. That brought my wife up off her seat.

“Stop!” Kimberly screamed. “He’s had enough! You beat him up, you fucked his ass, and you made him cum! You proved your point; let him go!”

“Proved my point?!” Valentina pulled halfway out of my ass and then pistoned down, making me squeal.“Then you’ll dump him for me -”

”No!” Kim screamed. “We’re finished, don’t you get it? I dumped you six fucking years ago! We are never getting back together! Leave me alone! Get out of my life!” With this my fiance launched herself at her ex. Valentina barely had time to pull out of me and start getting up before Kim slammed a hard punch into her tummy.

I rolled over to watch them fight. Even beaten up, fucked, and humiliated laying on the carpet, worry over my wife taking on her ex in a fistfight pierced the fog covering my mind; Kimberly is five two in her bare feet (and she had her sneakers on so let’s call it 5’3’) up against five foot and a half of Valentina, so the height mismatch wasn’t too bad. Valentina was definitely curvier - my wife is a compact, solid woman whose B cups in her tank top looked quite modest compared to Valentina’s big, bare tits. On body alone I’d probably give my fiance a slight edge, but I was worried about skill; Valentina had surprised me with her boxing ability, and I was hoping my girl wasn’t walking into a knockout. For the moment at least it appeared I had nothing to worry about as Valentina looked sluggish after Kimberly’s opening hit, getting her hands up too slow to block the followup right, and the two women started having a very angry, sloppy boxing match. Valentina got some good hits in, but she quickly started losing the fight, I like to think because I’d softened her up. Kimberly knocked the wind out of her ex, then knocked her down with a big right hand to the head; Valentina was laid out flat on her back, her strapon pointing at the ceiling. Kim circled her, barking “Stay down!” but her ex rolled over onto her hands and knees and started trying to get up. Kim came in and savagely punched her in the back of the head, dropping Valentina to the carpet on her face; then Kim stated stomping her, still with her shoes on, smashing the bottom of her foot into Valentina’s sweaty back, her bare ass, the backs of her arms, and a couple really nasty stomps to the back of her head. Valentina tried to cover up, but with only two arms there was always somewhere for Kim to hit. After softening Valentina up a little bit Kim sat down on her back, grabbed two handfuls of Valentina’s dark hair and started slamming her ex’s face into the ground. The carpeting lessened the impact a bit, but after a half dozen slams Valentina was bleeding from her nose, and her eyes had a vacant look in them; Kim went in for one last slam, then rolled her ex over onto her back, sitting down on her heaving stomach.

“Are you going to leave us alone now?!” Valentina didn’t answer and Kim slammed a right hook into the side of her face, sending her head flying in a shower of sweat and blood. Kim gave her a equally powerful left; Valentina started crying, sobs her only answer to Kim screaming that she never wanted to see her again. Kimberly didn’t get the answer she wanted and climbed off Valentina, pulling her ex up to her feet, bending her over and getting a headlock on Val, dragging her over to the large wooden dresser against the far wall. Kim yanked the dresser open and stuffed Valentina’s head halfway in. “Last chance!” she screamed. Val just kept crying and I winced as Kimberly slammed the dresser closed on Valentina’s head. Her body went limp and Kim gave her another one; Val fell backwards off the dresser, landing in a heap on the carpet.

Kimberly dragged Valentina back to the center of the carpet, leaving her lying spread-eagled next to me. Kim pulled my ring off her ex’s finger and presented it to me with a growl of “put this back on” that I quickly obeyed. Then she turned back to her ex. “You ready to say it now? Tell me we’re never going to hear from you again.” She gave Val a slap across the face. “Say it!”

“I’m sorry,” Valentina whispered hoarsely.

“Did I ask if you’re sorry?” Kim yelled, slapping her again.

“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “Please!”  Kimberly gave her a third slap.

“I don’t care if you’re fucking sorry! Rory, get over here!”

With a groan I got up and came over to where Valentina lay on the mat, shaking and crying. Kimberly gravely slid her shorts and underwear off and planted her crotch on Valentina’s face, looking down at her feet. My fiance grabbed my cock, which was at half-mast. “I need you to get hard again. Apparently, this dumb bitch needs to learn the hard way.” She popped my dick into her mouth and started blowing me. It took a little time after two climaxes, but her lips sliding up and down my shaft got me fully erect again. She pushed me away and told me to go between Valentina’s legs; I pushed her thighs apart, and at my fiance’s commands lifted Valentina’s ankles and draped them over my shoulders. I pushed my hips forward and entered her. We started using Valentina like a sex toy, my wife riding her face while I fucked her, Val’s sticky strapon rubbing against my stomach. Kimberly leaned forward a bit and started making out with me as we destroyed her ex. I can honestly only credit having cum twice already for how long I managed to last; I felt Valentina climax at least once, her legs squeezing against me and her pussy clenching as she came, then her body going slack as I kept fucking her. Kimberly was the next to cum, leaning against me as she ground her pussy into her ex’s face, wrapping her arms around me and screaming in pleasure as she finished. She didn’t get off her seat on Valentina’s face, although her hips stopped moving; she told me to finish quickly and I picked up the pace, giving Valentina short, quick strokes, until I felt myself passing the limit, my hip thrusts losing some power as I started cumming deep in Val’s pussy.

When we climbed off her, Valentina was a mess; sweat covering her whole body, my cum dripping out of her pussy, her own blood and her ex’s thick juices covering her beaten face. She never did say she’d leave us alone, but as we got dressed and left her a beaten mess on the floor, it didn’t look like we’d have to worry about her for quite a while.

Chapter 2

My wedding went off without a hitch (although my butt was a little sore), and the honeymoon was wonderful. In the cascade of congratulatory emails, facebook updates and texts, there was one message from my ex, Melanie. Mel was a cyberstalker; no matter how many times I blocked her email, social media accounts or phone numbers, she would get new ones, and in this case she’d sent me one of her trademark nonsensical texts from a burner phone; I saw it flipping through my messages:

"Aww poo opp l loop o ppl Poo ooo I'll l o l"

I sighed and blocked the number, knowing it would do no good. The whole thing is a long story that I guess I can boil down to one sentence: When I was young and dumb, I ignored the advice to never stick your dick in crazy. In my defense, Melanie is one of the most attractive women I’ve ever met: Blonde, blue eyes, tall (almost six feet), a beautiful face with big green eyes and luscious red lips. She has a knockout hourglass figure - DD tits, a fantastic ass, flat toned tummy, smooth, powerful limbs. At first I’d been able to ignore her weird and frankly obnoxious personality, but eventually it wore me down and we broke up. To say Melanie hadn’t taken it well was an understatement, and the day didn’t go by when I didn’t get some kind of message from her - some of them were complete gibberish like her wedding text, while some were thinly veiled threats, mixed in with shockingly graphic sexual solicitations; one day I could get nonsense word salad, then a threat to bite my fingers off off next time I took the dog for a walk, then an offer to, well, I sometimes wasn’t exactly sure what she was proposing; getting my meatballs mouthed was straightforward enough, but I’m still not sure what she was suggesting when she said she’d toss my salad into the troposphere (which I had to look up - it’s the lowest layer of the atmosphere, where nearly all weather conditions take place). My wife was well aware of all this - she got messages from Melanie as well, although much less frequent and usually more crude and threatening.

I guess me and Kimberly finally tying the knot did it for Mel, because she really picked up her harassment; I came home to dozens and dozens of emails, some of them telling me to call her when I got tired of my wife, some of them threatening me or my wife and some of them complete nonsense, what looked like a markov chain turned on internet copypasta (I gave up trying to figure out what she was trying to communicate with these after opening a 36 page email that was nothing but paragraph after paragraph of emojis). I spent half a day deleting, blocking and cleaning up, and just as I finished Melanie sent me one last email, this one asking to meet up so she could give me a wedding present. When I didn’t reply to this copies kept coming in, each one hand-typed with different typos and slightly different words, until Kim, reading over my shoulder, suggested maybe I should just go and get it over with before Melanie went completely off the deep end. I agreed to meet Melanie at the mall food court, with Kim watching in disguise just in case - I’m not sure her outfit of cutoff jeans, a windbreaker, sunglasses and a baseball cap with her hair piled into it would fool Melanie if she took a long look, but I felt a lot better having her there just in case.

I’d barely sat down when I saw Mel walking over wearing little booty shorts and a crop top. God, her body still looked amazing. Her hair was down to her shoulders, dyed mostly pink, with only a few strands left her natural blonde. She smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her face, before sitting down next to me and handing me a large rectangular box wrapped in Doc McStuffins wrapping paper. “Here you go!”

“Thanks.” I took it and turned it over in my hands.

“Well, you gonna open it?” she barked. (Her moods tended to change very quickly; I still had never quite gotten used to it.)

“Okay, yes. All right. Here I go.” I’d barely started removing the paper when Melanie chirped “It’s an immersion blender. For making spaghetti sauce!” This was something we’d done together way back when; I didn’t have the heart to tell her I already had one (and a nicer model at that, I discovered as I finished opening her present) that I used to make sauce with my wife on Sunday afternoons.

“Thanks, Mel. This is nice.” She beamed at me - I’d forgotten how beautiful she was in person. “Really. I’ll send you a thank you card. So, I gotta get going - “ she grabbed my arm, the smile fleeing from her face.

“Rory, can’t you stay a minute? I haven’t seen you in months. And, you know, honey, I’ve missed you.”

“I know -”

“Look, does that little girl you married really make you happy? Really? Are you happy, Rory? You can tell me.”

“Yes, I’m very happy.” I tried to get up, but her grip was like iron.

“Rory, listen. It’s just, sweetie, when we were together… well, I felt luckier than a dog with two dicks." I didn’t know what to make of this. “What do you say, can I tickle your pickle one last time? Wifey doesn’t need to know.”

I braced myself, knowing she was going to go nuts when I turned her down. She’s a screamer, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d screamed at me in public after refusing her: “No thanks.”

“Why not?” she howled, her face flushing. “Why not?” Her voice got uncomfortably loud. “You little knob goblin! I know you liked it when we were together. There’s no way she’d do what I’ll do for you!”

“Mel, please. I’m married to Kimberly. I love her, she loves me. You and me, we’re over. Okay? I’m sorry, I know -”

“Shut up,” she snarled, her pretty face twisted into an angry sneer, her hand crushing my arm. She sent the blender flying with a sweep of her other hand, drawing even more eyes to us. “Just stop talking. You know, Rory, you can be a real cock fart, you know that? Even if you’ve given up,  I still believe in us, and I’m going to make it work, no matter what!” I opened my mouth to try to plead with her to give it up, but she got up and stalked off first.

I was halfway home when my phone went off with a text message from her: "fyi u make my boinker go gazoinks". I hoped this was typical Melanie exploding and then losing interest for a few weeks, but to my growing dismay she started immediately posting extremely inappropriate Facebook messages, taunting my wife, posting pictures of herself at the gym with captions like “does fatass kim even know where the gym is? i sure do  #girlswholift #girlswithmuscles #doyouevenlift #makinggains” and all but challenging Kimberley to a fight, saying she wasn’t worthy of me and if they met up in a dark alley, etc, before coming right out and asking Kim to name a time and a place; when this didn’t get a response - Kim’s used to this kind of thing, unfortunately - Melanie posted something very personal and offensive (about Kimberly’s difficulty having kids after a childhood injury) that finally made my wife so angry she threw caution to the wind and told me to set up a fight with my ex at our house. I tried to talk her out of it, but she was as steamed as I’d ever seen, and next Friday at 8 PM, Melanie was at our house for the big smackdown. She breezed in wearing a big trenchcoat, going to the center of the living room and looking around with her hands on her hips. “Is this the spot?”

“Yeah.” I’d moved all the furniture to the walls and laid down a thick blue wrestling mat.

“It’ll do.” She slithered out of her coat, tossing it to me; she was totally naked underneath and her coat hit me in the face as I stood there stupidly ogling her. I bent down to pick it up as Kimberly came in, scowling at Melanie. They went toe to toe as I gathered up Mel’s coat. Kimberly is tough, but I couldn’t help but worry looking at her facing off against my ex giving up ten inches and at least 40 pounds. I know this sounds like an awesome fantasy, but more than anything else I didn’t want to see my wife, the woman I love, getting destroyed by the ex I’d been trying to shake for years.  Melanie blew me a kiss I ignored as I looked at my wife. Kimberly was fighting in her yellow bikini with a white frill - she has small, cute tits that looked good in the bikini top, but what I thought really looked best on her body was her tight little ass and finely toned legs. Her face looked a bit plain when set next to Melanie’s, but she is honestly very pretty with a oval face, large dark eyes, a little button nose, and full sensuous lips. Her long, dark brown hair was tied into two long braids, coming down below her breasts.

“You ready for this, kimbo slice?” Melanie yelled. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? You done goofed, little girl!”

Kimberly didn’t rise to the bait, glaring at my ex and just telling her “You sure talk a lot of shit.” She waved Melanie on with one hand. “Are we going to fight or what?” Melanie screamed a wordless war cry,  launching herself at my wife. Kimberly braced herself and tried to catch my ex, but the bigger fighter had too much momentum behind her; she wrapped her arms around my wife and they both went down, Melanie’s weight smashing Kim into the floor. Mel rolled off her and hopped to her feet, aiming to drop an elbow into my stunned wife’s stomach, but Kim rolled out of the way at the last second, leaving my ex to smash her elbow into the floor with a scream. The fighters got back up and faced off, Mel rubbing her elbow with a grimace. They circled for a second until I got an idea and yelled “Melanie!”

She turned her head to face me and my wife ran in and kicked her between the legs. Mel screamed, falling to her knees, and a followup punt to the face laid her out flat on her back. Kimberly shot me a smile before copying her opponent’s idea, dropping her elbow into Melanie’s tummy. My ex gasped as the point of my wife’s elbow landed, rolling onto her side and holding herself. Kim got two handfuls of pink hair, pulling Mel up onto her knees, yanking my ex’s head back so that Melanie was looking up at the ceiling. Kim kept the hair hold on with just one hand as Mel reached up and grabbed her wrist, trying to break my wife’s grip on her hair. Before she could Kim’s free hand swooped down as my wife delivered an absolutely vicious karate chop to Mel’s neck. She released the hair and Melanie flopped to the ground on her side, holding her neck and gasping. I dared to hope this would be a short fight as Kim pressed her advantage, kicking Mel over onto her back, going down to her feet and reaching down to grab her ankles. Melanie tried to kick Kimberly away, but she still seemed dazed and slow, and my wife had little trouble getting an ankle in each hand, spreading Melanie’s legs wide, lifting them off the ground. Kimberly lifted her foot off the ground, holding it over Melanie’s crotch; everyone in the room knew what was coming next and Melanie burst out with a blood-curdling scream as Kimberly slammed her foot down into my ex’s bare pussy. Kim threw Melanie’s legs down to the carpet and Mel rocked back and forth holding herself as my wife looked down at her in disgust. Kimberly sat down on Mel’s shoulders and started rocking her head back and forth with punches; I could hear the smack of her fist with each hit, and soon I could see Melanie bleeding from what looked like a cut on her forehead. My ex must have taken a dozen punches to the face before a panting Kimberly stopped to admire her handiwork; it looked like the fight was over, Mel knocked out cold as she lay flat on her back bleeding on the carpet.

Kimberly climbed off Melanie, shaking her right hand, slick with blood; I couldn’t tell if it was her own from busting her knuckles open or spatter from her opponent. She walked over to me and I handed her a towel to clean her hand. Then she cracked open a bottle of water and was halfway through chugging it when I saw over her shoulder that Melanie, to my horror, was leaning up with a crazy smile, her face a mask of crimson from the beating she’d taken.

“Heyyyyyyyy, Kimmmmmmmmmmm,” she yelled, getting unsteadily to her feet. “Heyyyyyyy, Kiiiiiiiiiiimmyyyy! I’m not through yet!”

My wife turned back to face Melanie slowly. “You dumb fucking bitch!” she screamed. “You should have stayed down - now I’m really going to hurt you!” Her voice was wavering slightly, more in nerves than fear, I hoped, and my heart was pounding as Kimberly launched herself at Melanie with a scream.

The charge to start the fight had seen Kim attempt to catch Melanie and fail; I moaned in disappointment as Melanie attempted to catch Kim and pulled it off, wrapping her arms around my wife and managing to stay standing, pulling Kimberly up into a strong bearhug. Kim barely had a chance to yell in surprise before Melanie slammed a headbutt into her face, smearing her own blood on my wife’s nose and mouth. Kim looked dazed and Mel gave her a second one, then braced her knee on the carpet and almost split Kim in half with an atomic drop, slamming my wife down on her knee crotch-first. Kim ended up on the carpet whimpering and holding her crotch as Mel set about stripping her, shoving my wife over onto her chest and untying her top. Kim came to her senses and reached back to try and stop Mel, but my ex kicked her arm away and whipped the yellow bikini top off in one smooth motion. Then she bent down over my wife, trying to loop the top around Kim’s neck. At the last minute Kim managed to get a hand between the bikini top and her neck, and she and Melanie struggled for a minute, Mel trying to establish a strong choke and Kim trying to push the suit away. Melanie eventually gave up with an annoyed grunt, throwing the top away and reaching down for my wife’s bottoms, but Kimberly managed to roll away from her and get up to her feet. Her chest was heaving and she was covered in sweat - actually, they both were - and the fighters circled for a second before Melanie made a lunge at my wife’s bottoms. Kimberly aimed a kick under Melanie’s chin; my ex came on with so much speed that she got past my wife’s foot, but this did her little good in the end as Kimberly’s knee came up and cracked into Mel’s jaw. Melanie went over backwards and hit the floor with a grunt. Instead of pressing the attack, Kimberly spotted her bikini top laying a dozen feet away and started heading over towards them.

“Kim, honey!” I yelled, “Finish her off! Forget your suit!” Kim turned to me and I could see her weighing her options, but before she could do either one Mel rolled over with a groan and started getting up. Shit; maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Kimberly turned to her opponent and put her fists up. She closed and I hoped Mel’s head would still be fuzzy enough to give my wife the edge, but as Kimberly came close and threw a big overhand right Melanie ducked under the hit with impressive speed, slamming a right into my wife’s tummy that landed flush on her belly button. Kimberly gasped and her hands froze - a beginner mistake, I now recognized - and Melanie started ringing her up with punches, hooking her fists around my wife’s guard and punishing her ribs. Kimberly tried to back her opponent off with a knee between the legs, but Melanie closed her thighs around my wife’s leg with a demented cackle. Kimberly at least had managed to stop Melanie’s punches, but it got worse as my ex wrapped her arms around my wife and executed a scary-looking belly to belly suplex. Kimberly barely missed the overhead light as Mel hefted her up and over her head; Kim came down and crashed into the floor with a scream, rolling onto her chest and holding her back as Melanie glared down at her. This time Kim was in too much pain to stop my ex from pulling her bottoms off. Kim had only managed to get up to a sitting position, still rubbing her sore back, before Melanie got two handfuls of her hair - Kim’s braids were fraying, but still intact, and unfortunately made ready handles - and pulled her up to her feet, using her grip to keep my wife bent over. Melanie nailed Kim in the chest with a few knee lifts, slamming my wife’s tits up against her ribcage, finishing the sequence with a knee to the tummy that left Kim helplessly gagging. Melanie converted her grip to a strong headlock, dragging my wife over to the west wall. There was no furniture here and Melanie threw my wife up against the wall back-first. Kim quickly came off the wall with a big left, but Melanie ducked it and came back with a huge uppercut that exploded under my wife’s chin. Kimberly sagged back against the wall and Melanie got a strong choke with her left hand, squeezing my gasping wife’s neck, and started laying in belly punches with her right hand. Kimberly couldn’t even raise her hands to defend herself as my cackling ex punished her tummy with punch after punch, a nasty bruise forming where Melanie’s knuckles repeatedly crashed into my wife’s stomach. Kim started gagging with each hit, her eyes slowly rolling back in her head as Melanie choked and beat her. By the time Mel released her my wife was in bad shape, slowly sliding down the wall, then falling over on her right hand side.

Melanie prodded my wife with her foot to no reaction. She turned to smile at me, a nasty predator’s smile that slowly spread across her face. “Looks like wifey’s finished.” She bent down and gave my wife a hard slap; Kim just groaned, not completely passed out, but too beat up to defend herself. Melanie dragged my wife to the middle of the floor, laying her down spread-eagled on her back. Melanie stopped to admire her handiwork:  “Aw, little Kimmy. You know, you’re actually kind of cute naked. You look all vulnerable.” With that, Melanie grabbed my wife’s ankles and spread her legs apart. I guess to be fair Kim had done this to her earlier in the match, but I felt sick knowing what was about to happen as my ex set up a crotch stomp. I covered my eyes, peering through my fingers as Melanie brought her heel down hard into Kimberly’s crotch. Instead of just nailing the stomp, which would have been bad enough, Mel started grinding her foot into my wife’s pussy. Kimberly screamed and squirmed under her opponent, but she couldn’t break the hold; at the best of times Mel’s height and weight advantages would make this hard to get out of, and Kim was so beat she could only pathetically tug on my ex’s ankle.

I couldn’t bear to watch this any more and got up, walking towards the fighters with my heart pounding in my chest, not sure exactly what I was going to do. To my immense relief Melanie released my wife and turned to face me as I came close. She moved in for a kiss, but I stiff-armed her away from me.

“Look, you beat her, okay? Would you leave her alone now?”

“Baby, I’m just getting started.” A truly disturbing, malicious smile was plastered on her face. “Watch this!”

“Wait -”

Ignoring me, Melanie pulled Kim up to her feet, then kicked her in the belly and bent her over. I don’t really have any excuse for just standing there and watching this; maybe I was in shock, or subconsciously obeying my ex’s command to wait, or who knows what reason, but I just stood there dumbly as Mel pulled my bent-over wife’s head between her legs, then lifted her straight off the ground. Too late I snapped out of it and yelled “No!”, moving too slowly to stop what I saw unfolding in front of me. Melanie piledrove Kimberly into the ground, all of my wife’s weight landing on the top of her head with a sick, hollow thud. Kim fell bonelessly to the carpeted floor, laying completely limp as Melanie chortled, admiring her handiwork. “That’s enough!” I cried, not able to watch any more. “You win, okay? She gives up!”

“I want to hear her say it!” Melanie screamed in my face.

“Well, she can’t say anything, because you knocked her ass out cold!” I screamed back.

“Oh.” Mel turned to stare at my wife. “Oh, yeah. Well, I know how to fix that.” Melanie prodded Kim onto her back with her foot, then sat down on my wife’s tummy. Just as I opened my mouth to ask what she was doing Melanie leaned forward and applied an absolutely vicious double nipple pinch that brought Kim around with a heartbreaking scream. My wife grabbed Melanie’s wrists, who eased up on the pinch, but just a bit.

“You back with us, Kimmy? Your husband says you want to give up now.” Kim tried to speak, but only a pained squeak came out of her mouth.

“Please,” I spoke for her. “She gives up. You won.”

“Oh, yeah?” Melanie looked up at me with a demented, lopsided grin. “I’ll let her give up if you both do exactly what I say.”

The original deal had been the winner just doing whatever they wanted to the loser, but I was willing to agree to anything at this point; I made eye contact with Kimberly, and I knew I couldn’t stand to see her be hurt any more. “Absolutely, anything you want.”

Melanie hopped off my wife and had me strip down, frowning at my total limpness (I’d gotten pretty hard during the fight, but watching my wife get hurt was just about the most powerful turnoff I could remember). My ex had me kneel in front of her, and my wife kneel behind her - at first Kim couldn’t even sit up, but a torrent of slaps and verbal abuse from Melanie got her to a sitting and then a kneeling position where Mel wanted her. My ex got a handful of my hair, then reached behind her and got a handful of my wife’s as well; I realized what she had in mind as she guided us both forward, me towards her crotch and Kimberly towards her butt. I heard Mel gasp with delight as I planted a kiss on her pussy, then a low groan as I assume Kim went to work on her ass. I braced my hands on my ex’s hips and got to work. I knew exactly how she liked getting her pussy eaten: Long, deep, quick licks, and in the interest of getting her off quick I dived right in; but she quickly barked out “Whoa, whoa! Slow down, I wanna enjoy this!” and I switched techniques, afraid on my wife’s behalf of pissing off my ex. She tugged on my hair, making me back off a bit; when she started getting closer she pulled me back with a rough yank and I finished her as fast as I could. She had a very powerful orgasm, and as she released me and slowly sank to her knees between me and my wife I dared to hope she’d gotten what she wanted and would leave.

But my hopes were dashed as after a minute she hopped to her feet with a smile: “Rory, your turn!” She yanked me to my feet and gave my cock a squeeze; it had gotten quite hard eating her out and she smiled as she gave me a few quick strokes. Then she stepped to my left side, leaving me facing my beaten wife, still on her knees. Mel told her not to move, getting a handful of her brown hair for good measure, then waved me forward with her free hand until my cock was right in front of my wife’s face. “You don’t deserve to suck his cock!” Melanie screamed at my wife. She started jerking me off, aiming the tip of my dick at Kimberly’s face. “I’m the only one who’s going to be tonguing his tube steak!” I couldn’t bear to look at Kim and closed my eyes. “You see that?!” Melanie crowed. “He doesn’t even wanna see your ugly little face!” Mel didn’t even have enough mercy to make me cum quick; she had loved giving handjobs when we were together and knew just how to bring me up to the edge, then back me off by pinching the head or dropping her hand to my balls for a quick, hard squeeze. Finally she let me finish, tipping my wife’s head back, controlling my cock through my climax to make sure she got every drop on Kimberly’s face.

After I finished Mel kissed me on the cheek and waved me off. I dared to hope that she was done, but with a very mean smirk on her face she turned to my wife and started bitch-slapping Kimberly. My wife started crying, cum and tears flying off with each vicious smack. Finally, mercifully, she switched to closed-fists blows, the third one knocking my wife out; I could see her body go completely limp as she fell unconscious. Melanie released her, cackling as my wife’s body slowly slumped to the floor. She blew me a kiss and told me to call her whenever I wanted to get my knob slobbed, then shrugged her trenchcoat on and was out the door, leaving me cradling my beaten wife’s unconscious body.

Chapter 3

I spent the next month nursing my wife back to health - my ex had really done a number on her, and it was two scary days before the swelling even went down enough for her to be able to open her eyes, then two weeks before she could get out of bed. We made up a story about an accident taking down the back deck, and I counted myself lucky Melanie seemed to have temporarily vanished and wasn’t bragging on Facebook or anything.

I was at the grocery store one warm Sunday when I noticed Valentina stalking me through the aisles. Kim was out of bed and moving around by this point, but not quite feeling up to a long shopping trip, so I was there by myself; I just wanted to get the organic orange juice and get out, but here she came, sliding up to me in the cereal aisle before I could nab the French Toast Crunch.

“Whatcha doing out here by yourself, pussy boy? Where’s my girl?”

“Your girl-”

I stopped as an idea came to me. We’d never be free of these horrible people the way things were going - but what if we turned them on each other? If I told Valentina what Melanie had done to her ex, she’d go apeshit! Maybe they’d kill each other, or fall in love with each other, or something inbetween, but anything that got them away from us… holy shit. Was this the answer to our exes problem?? I had to find out. I started spilling my guts right there, only getting halfway through the story before Valentina flushed bright red as I detailed Kimberly getting her ass beat by my ex. She angrily cut me off, demanding to know how to find Melanie, which I was only too happy to provide.

As soon as I got home from the store and Kimberly came out to help me unload the car I told her the whole story. She actually squealed with delight, almost making me drop the groceries as she grabbed me in a tight hug, excited at the possibility that we might finally be free from our exes. We spent a very happy, nervous two weeks hoping they were gone forever, so you can imagine how we felt on the sleepy sunday afternoon when we got an email from the both of them challenging us to a tag-team fight. I had hoped they’d destroyed each other, but instead they had apparently decided to combine forces, and it seemed they were both under the delusion that they could team up, split up me and my wife, and each one end up with their ex.

So what to do? Kim wanted to accept the challenge; she was tired of six years of harassment from both of these women, and wanted to put an end to it no matter what it took. I wasn’t sure this was a great idea, but she talked me into it. We replied yes and then had to set about getting ready for the match.

First things first, I had Kim checked out at the doctor; she got a clean bill of health to take part in “strenuous physical activity” (I think she told the doctor she wanted to do aerobic boxing). Next Kim went shopping to get us matching outfits, “to emphasize our unity”. She brought home two swimsuits the same dark forest green, hers a modestly-cut one piece, mine a set of baggy trunks.

The fight was set for next week - I think we all wanted to get it over with, me at least because I was already having second thoughts - so there wasn’t time for much training; we managed to cram in a few after work self-defense classes that mostly taught us how to kick attackers in the groin.

The day of the fight, we got dressed in our outfits and cleared the living room again; I put down blue electrical tape marking off two opposing corners of the room, one for each team - the fighter who wasn’t currently tagged in wasn’t allowed to cross the tape, which was just about the only rule for the fight. We had a bag with a few special items in them - since this was our house I guess we could have just stored whatever we were going to use if we won anywhere, but there were two special things I’d prepared and hoped we could deploy at the end of the match, and these were tucked safely into an inside bag pocket. Valentina and Melanie arrived right on time at 8 PM, both dressed in long bulky coats despite the warm weather and hefting duffel bags, surely full of toys to use on us if they won. They went to their corner and doffed their coats; they’d both be starting naked, it seemed, Melanie without a stitch on while Valentina was already sporting her strapon, and as I looked at her she started jerking it off while aiming her shit-eating grin right at me. “Keep staring, pussy boy!” she called across the room. I opened my mouth to say something clever, but my wife called “Are we all ready?” in her no-nonsense voice.

It looked like we were; Valentina came out to start for the exes, and I gave my wife a kiss before she stepped out to face her. I could see Val hesitating, clearly expecting to fight me, but Kimberly yelling a challenge was enough to make up her mind. Melanie screamed at her partner fruitlessly for a tag as Valentina approached my wife (a good sign, I thought - we were counting on us having great teamwork and our exes having none to give us an edge, and Melanie already shrieking at Valentina before the fight started seemed promising). The fighters squared off and Valentina purred “This is for your own good” before lunging forward throwing punches. Kimberly covered and took the hits on her forearms, bending forward like a woman walking into a stiff wind as she slowly closed the distance with her ex. As she got close Valentina hooked a hard right around Kim’s guard and slammed her fist into my wife’s ribs; Kimberly grunted and grimaced, but she was close enough now to deploy the kick she’d perfected in self-defense class, and Valentina shrieked and covered her crotch in pain as my wife landed a beautiful rising kick straight between Val’s legs. Kimberly got two handfuls of her ex’s dark hair and yanked Val’s head down to meet her rising knee. I could hear the impact from my spot across the room, and when my wife released her Valentina stumbled backwards covering her face. I cheered as Kimberly followed, burying her right fist in Valentina’s tummy, knocking the wind out of her with the unexpected hit. Kim followed up with a knee to the groin, but Valentina’s hands were still covering her pussy and I don’t think this actually did much if any damage. Before Kim could press her attack any further Val lunged at her, getting her arms around Kim and taking them both down to the mat, facing each other. Kim grunted as Val’s weight slammed into her and pressed her into the floor. Kim wrapped her arms around Val and they struggled - for a second I couldn’t quite see what was happening, but based on Melanie’s yells of encouragement I realized Valentina was rubbing her dildo against my wife’s pussy. Luckily Kim’s suit stopped it from going in; Val tried to reach down and pull it to the side, giving Kim an opening to roll them both over, and Valentina ended up under her ex as Kimberly propped her forearm against Val’s neck and pressed down. I really think if Kimberly was stronger or weighed more she could have ended the fight right here, but Val managed to reach up and throw her off. Both women got to their feet, circling each other; I noticed that Kim got herself between Val and the enemy corner, then started slowly advancing, cautiously trying to force Val into our corner where we could double-team her; the rules said you had to stay behind the tape, but if my wife got our opponent where I could grab her, well, we might be able to eliminate Valentina real quick.

Unfortunately, Melanie noticed what was happening and screamed a warning to her partner, who lunged at my wife with a big overhand right. Kim tried to get her hands up, but she was too slow and took the punch square on the jaw, the impact staggering her. I could see from my spot in the corner that her eyes were glassy as Valentina moved in and started working her body with hard hooks. Kim tried to ward the punches off, but she was too slow; if she moved her hands up to cover her head Val slammed punches into her tummy, and if she lowered her guard to block these her ex snapped her head around with hits to her face. Kim tried a desperate knee to the crotch, but Val saw this coming and faded back away from it, then came back in with an uppercut that exploded under my wife’s chin, laying her out flat on her back.

I yelled at Kimberly to get up, but she was hurting bad and didn’t move; Valentina sat on her face, practically purring with satisfaction as she rubbed her naked pussy over my wife’s nose and mouth. The strapon was set just over her slit, and it bobbed around as she face-fucked my wife. Melanie screamed at her partner to finish Kim off, but Val was in heaven and either didn’t hear or didn’t care. Valentina was sitting facing the top of my wife’s head, and didn’t see as Kimberly tried to escape by hooking her feet under her ex’s armpits; Kim missed twice, but the third attempt was successful, and Valentina was sent flying with a surprised shriek to land awkwardly a few feet away from my wife. She started getting up, but she’d had her bell rung and Kim came in and kicked her hard in the side of the face, sending her back down to the ground with a grunt. My wife lifted her foot for a stomp, but Valentina was more stunned than hurt and came to her senses in time to roll out of the way and up to her feet. She came at my wife throwing punches, and unfortunately Kimberly’s single trick of kicking her in the pussy looked to be played out as Val took the hit on her thigh and kept coming, turning my wife’s head with a crisp left, then digging her right into Kimberly’s tummy. Kim gasped and tried to back Val off with a knee to the crotch, but Valentina was looking out for hits like this and weaved back, then came in aiming a huge right hand at my wife’s head. I sighed in relief as Kim barely managed to duck, coming up with a sloppy uppercut that plowed into Val’s left breast, sending it flying upwards in a shower of sweat. Valentina squealed and the third time was the charm as Kimberly’s knee came up between her ex’s legs, striking true. Val took a step back covering her crotch; Kimberly braced and launched a kick at Val’s midsection, her foot smacking right into Valentina’s belly button. Val went down on her back and Kim was right on top of her, nailing a hard stomp straight on Valentina’s face. Val rolled over onto her chest and started getting up, but I could see from here she was dazed, her eyes glassy and a trickle of blood coming out of her nose. Kim didn’t let her finish getting to her feet, landing a stomp in the center of Val’s back that sent her back to the ground with a grunt. Kim went for another stomp, but her ex seemed to be recovering as she rolled onto her back, aiming a wild kick at my wife’s crotch that made her back off. Val got to her feet and the fighters closed, my wife taking the first hit as Valentina looped a long right-handed punch around Kim’s hands, smacking her fist into my wife’s ribs. Kim winced and lunged forward with a telegraphed crotch kick that Valentina easily dodged, coming in closer with a left straight to the jaw that had my wife reeling. Kim threw a sloppy right in return that Val slapped away, throwing a return gut punch that had my wife gasping. I was afraid Kim’s skills had taken her as far as she could go; she’d hurt her ex fairly seriously, but her one trick was now totally played out. Just as I braced myself to watch my wife get knocked out, she threw her hands up and wailed “Don’t hit me!”

Valentina hesitated for a second, I think looking for an ambush, but when one didn’t come she swept my wife up in her arms. “It’s okay now!” Valentina yelled. “I’m here!” Val went in for a kiss, but Kim pulled back; going lower, Valentina laid a long lick on my wife’s neck, and I could see her grimace over Val’s shoulder.

“Finish her!” Melanie screamed, but her partner wasn’t listening as she released Kim, grabbing the straps on my wife’s suit. Kimberly stood there and let her ex peel her suit down to her stomach; Valentina lowered her mouth to my wife’s now-bare chest, teasing Kim’s nipple with her tongue. Kimberly put her hands on the back of Val’s head, gently guiding her to the other nipple, then bringing her knee flying up into Valentina’s stomach. Val, totally surprised, emitted a gurgled shriek, then ate another knee to the same place. She fell to her hands and knees, and Kimberly stomped her in the back of the head, grinding her ex’s face into the ground.

“Get her over here!” I yelled. Kimberly looked at me and nodded; Val had gotten up to her hands and knees, and Kim went around to her side and gave her a hard kick up into her stomach. She  got two handfuls of her ex’s long hair and started dragging her over to me. Val, still winded on her hands and knees, was either too hurt to resist or didn’t know what was waiting for her.

I got on my knees in the corner; Kim pushed Valentina into me, and I spun her around to face my wife, locking her arms up in a strong full nelson. Valentina was left totally helpless as Kim also got on her knees, coming face to face with her ex. Kimberly started beating the shit out of Valentina, starting with her body, hitting her with repeated straight punches to the belly. I kept an eye on Melanie; she was peering angrily into the corner, but made no move to break it up. I like to think if I was watching this happen to my wife I’d be charging out of the corner, and fuck the rules - maybe you can chalk Mel just watching us destroy her partner up to a lack of unity on the enemy team like I had with my wife, or it just not occuring to her, but either way she obediently stood behind the tape as Kimberly beat the shit out of her ex.

Valentina held out for a few hits, but after four or five I could tell she was hurting; her deep grunts became little cries of pain as Kimberly kept punching her, and she started trying to sag forward, only the full nelson holding her vertical. I think Valentina was basically finished here, but when Kim got tired of hitting her in the body she moved up and started punching her ex in the chest, relishing Valentina’s screams as she mixed up punches, using straights to crush Val’s big tits against her ribs, hooks to send them flying left and right, and occasional uppercuts with so much power that Val got hit in the face by her own tits. By now Valentina was begging her ex to knock her out, and Kim had mercy as she moved up and started punching her in the face. I guess I thought it was going to be like a movie where one good punch would do it, but Kim snapped Val’s head around with a half dozen knockout punches before the job was done. I released Val and gave her a gentle push forward; she flopped onto the ground chest-first, moaning as she landed on her beaten tits. Kim rolled her over and I saw how fucked up she was, her stomach covered with ugly bruises, her breasts red and swollen, her face a beaten mess with blood coming from her nose and mouth.

I left Valentina to my wife as Melanie was finally coming out of her corner. She pointed at me and yelled “Rooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!” before advancing on me with her fists out in front of her body like an old-timey boxer. I came at her with my fists up in a strong guard, wary for tricks; she almost fooled me, lunging at me behind a swift right-handed hook. I barely ducked it, dropping into a crouch and charging. Mel screamed in surprise as I tackled her, getting my shoulder into her stomach and hoping I’d knocked the wind out of her as I took her down to the mat. The idea was to land on her with all my weight, but I was a bit off-center and couldn’t get as much force as I wanted into this. As soon as we hit the floor Melanie wrapped her arms around me and when I tried to get off her I found she was too strong, holding me immobilized on top of her. “Can’t get awayyyyyyyyy!” my ex sing-songed in my ear. I couldn’t get the same grip on her - she was laying flat on her back and I couldn’t get my arms behind her body to lock her up. Melanie licked my face, cackling as I winced. I made another attempt to get up, struggling with Mel as I tried to stand and she tried to hold me there; she won and a whole minute into the match I was finding myself in trouble.

I forced myself to calm down and think, which wasn’t easy; between Mel squeezing me with her arms and the feeling of her naked body pressing against mine, trying to come up with an escape plan wasn’t easy. I couldn’t force myself off her, but I had my arms and legs free. I tried to get my arms between Mel’s and my body, but I wasn’t strong enough for this; I’m stronger than Mel, but not enough to overpower her like this, and I heard her laughing as my attempt failed. “Rory, why even fight it?” she purred. I felt her shifting her hips, pressing her pussy against my cock; I was thankful for the thick material minimizing the sensation.

Wait a minute. Why even fight it? I saw my way out. “Let me go, I want to get these trunks off!”

“Aw, you had enough already, babe?” I nodded. “You ready for me to fuck your brains out?!”

Was she going to buy this? I came up with what I thought she wanted to hear: “You know I never can say no to you.” In reality I did say no all the time, but the big smile that blossomed on her face told me she brought it. Sure enough she released me; the second I felt her grip loosening I rolled off her and jumped up to my feet, her smile fading into a childish pout as she realized she’d been had. “You tricked me!” she yelled. “Rory, you tricked me!” I realized too late I should have attacked her before she’d recovered, but by the time this came to me my ex was already getting up to her feet. She put her fists up, in a real boxer’s guard this time. I took up the same stance, figuring neither one of us were boxers and I’d be at least even with her, but she attacked in a flurry of stingingly painful slaps I found myself rapidly retreating from. I had to stop her and lunged forward with a kick aimed at her crotch, but I guess Melanie had seen my wife try this enough to read the signs and she turned, taking the hit on her inner thigh. “Rory, don’t do that!” she lectured. “I’m going to finish you with this, I need it in top condition!”

“What?” I wasn’t used to my opponent telling me her strategy; Mel reached between her legs, parting her pussy lips as she flashed me a lewd smile. Then she ran at me with a scream, and I barely came back to my senses in time to stop her from pulling my suit down; we both hand two hands on the waistband, her trying to yank them off and me holding them right where they were. “Gimmie these!” she yelled in my face. “Take these off! Rory, you let go right now!”

“You first!”

Neither one of us would give up, and we stumbled around on the carpet like two sumo wrestlers; she yanked me towards her, trying to wrong-foot me, and our bodies pressed together, her big breasts pressing against my chest. I tried to trip her, getting my right leg between hers and moving my body forward, pressing against her; this worked as she fell backwards with a yell, but she still had a death grip on my trunks and took me with her. She hit the floor awkwardly and I came down right on top of her, hearing her grunt as I pressed her into the ground. Melanie got the worst of it, losing her grip on my shorts - still snugly around my waist - and looking dazed. I made sure not to give her time to grab me again, pinning her shoulders to the carpeted floor, trying to grapevine her legs. Unfortunately I’m not an expert in this move, and I couldn’t get my legs braced securely against hers; Melanie kept thrashing under me, trying to push off the floor, kicking her legs, trying to roll me off her to the left or right. I couldn’t get any offense going as it was taking all of my efforts just to hold her down. I tried to rise up high enough over her so that I could drop my weight down on her, but I didn’t even make it halfway before she managed to get one of her legs between us and kick me away. We both go to our feet, and I saw that Melanie had her eyes fixed on my crotch; even though my baggy shorts she could probably see the painfully hard erection I was sporting. I figured she’d make another grab at my trunks - she could be very focused when she had a goal in mind - and when she shot forward I dropped my hands low to block her attack, but she’d faked me out and went high at the last second, cupping my face in her hands and slapping a kiss on me. I stood there shocked, letting her get her left hand behind my head, her tongue pressing between my lips as she bent me slightly back. Her other hand slipped into my bottoms, but I grabbed her wrist before she could take hold of her prize; I managed to back up slightly and pushed on her with my free hand, forcing her to break the kiss with a gasp as I shoved her away. She tried to come back in, but I held her off with a stiff forearm, just long enough to land a kick into her stomach. She gasped, unprepared for the hit, and I closed up and gave her a punch in what I sure hoped was the same spot; it seemed close enough as she gagged, holding her tummy and leaving me free to press my attack - if only I knew what to do next; I hesitated for a second, then flinched as I heard my wife scream “Get her! Don’t just stand there!” from the other side of the room. I turned to face her, seeing that she was seated on her ex’s face, wearing Valentina’s strapon around her hips. “Don’t look at me, silly!” she yelled, pointing over my shoulder. “Finish her! Quick!” I turned back around straight into a right-handed hook that smashed into my face with crushing force; I took a half-step back before falling down on the carpeted floor, hitting the back of my head on the ground for good measure. I looked up at Mel, swimming in my vision. She reached down and grabbed my trunks, and this time I couldn’t stop her as she yanked them off me with a satisfied grunt. She reached down at me again, but I managed to get away from her, rolling up into a groggy crouch. Unfortunately I was still so dazed my reaction time was slow, and I got my hands up too late to stop her coming in and landing a roundhouse kick to the side of my head that put me down again, holding my temple where she’d hit me. She rolled me onto my back, then started pulling me up to my feet; I was too stunned to even try to stop her and was temporary at her mercy as she bent me over, getting on my left side. Her right hand snaked between my thighs, and I moaned as she got a solid grip on my balls, my legs going weak as she squeezed. I knew I had to get out of this right away, but any move I made prompted her to tighten up, and if it hurt bad enough normally, when she added extra pressure I was helpless, agony shooting through my body.

But I knew Melanie, and I thought there might be another way of getting out: “Let go,” I begged.

“What?” Mel yelled at me. “What was that?! Can’t hear you, Rory! Nope! Caaaaaan’t heaaaaar youu!”

“Please let me go!” I pitched my voice as pathetically as I could.

“Why would I do that? Huh?”

“I want you to let go,” I whined. “Pleaaaaaaaaase! I’m sorry!”

This gave her pause; the pressure loosened just a hair.

“Are you tricking me again, Rory?”

“No!” She released the hold, grabbing my hair and pulling me up so I was face to face with her. “If you’re trying to trick me again - ” she was cut off, howling as my knee slammed up into her crotch. She turned away from me, bending over and screaming “Fuckballs! You little fuckass!” I locked my hands together and hit her with a double ax-handle in the back, sending her to the mat on her chest where she landed with an undignified squeal. Not taking any chances, I lined up a stomp on the back of her head, hearing my wife cheer as my foot slammed into the back of my ex’s skull. Mel covered where I’d hit and I lay on top of her, looping my right arm around her neck and started choking her. She bucked under me, but couldn’t dislodge me; I assumed that as she lost air she’d lose power, but her struggling actually got stronger, I guess out of desperation. To my shock she managed to press up off the floor, I think at first trying to stand up, then when this didn’t work getting herself up into a sitting position. She started throwing blind elbows behind her; a few hit quite painfully, but I grimly held on, determined to end the fight right here. Next she attempted to pull my arm away from her neck, but she didn’t have the strength for this; I’ll never know what else she might have tried as my wife came wandering over, standing in front of Mel and watching with a little smirk on her face, then grabbing two handfuls of my ex’s hair and slamming a kick into her stomach. Mel gasped as the last little bit of air left her, dry heaving as Kimberly landed two more vicious kicks, then started face-fucking Melanie with the strapon. Mel didn’t go quick, struggling to the end as I choked her out; her body very slowly started slumping back against me until only my wife’s grip on her pink hair and my arm around her neck was holding her up. I slowly released the choke, wary of her playing possum and springing back to life, but she was out cold; Kim let go and Mel flopped to the floor on her face.

I walked over to our corner and pulled a plastic set of zip-ties out of our bag, tossing them to my wife, who pulled Melanie’s arms behind her back and cuffed her wrists together. Kim rolled Mel over and started bringing her around with face slaps; Mel woke up after the third, eating a few more for good measure as I walked back over. Kim had a special finisher lined up, pulling a stunned Mel to her feet, keeping my ex bent over and handing her off to me. I pulled Mel’s head between my legs, braced, and lifted her off the ground, holding her in a vertical 69 with me for one second as Kim put her hands on the bottom of Mel’s feet, then the two of us finished her with a spike piledriver, working together to drive Melanie’s head into the ground; even with the carpeting covering the floor, the top of my ex’s head took her full weight, and she was knocked out again, ragdolling down onto the carpet.

Kim and I took a minute to survey the carnage. Mel was out, drooling on the floor; whatever Kim had done to Valentina, she was laying in our corner not stirring, only her chest moving slowly up and down as she breathed. Had we won?

We had won. After a quick hug, we put our post-fight plans into motion. Valentina was up first; Kim dragged Melanie over to her corner and laid her there as I grabbed Val’s ankles and dragged her to the center of the floor. Kim came back over and flipped Val over onto her chest, then laid on top of her. “Rory, could you wake her up for me? And bring the card.” I nodded and went into the kitchen next door, filling up a glass of cold water and grabbing an index card out of our bag on the way back. Kim used Val’s hair to pull her head up off the ground; her face was absolutely coated with my wife’s juices - Kim must have gotten off on her during my fight with Melanie. I took aim and tossed the water into Val’s face, bringing her around with a sputtering gasp. Kim had her left arm in a hammerlock and worked the hold as Val squealed, making sure her ex didn’t think of trying to fight back. Satisfied, I saw Kim press the strapon against Val’s ass, getting ready to fuck her ex with her own dildo. Val let out a low, animal groan as the strapon slipped in, her eyes rolling back in her head as Kimberly hilted it with a grunt. “How’s this?!” she shrieked. “You wanted to fuck my man’s ass? How does this feel!” she yelled as she started slam ass-fucking Val. I just stood and watched for a minute, rock-hard looking at Valentina get destroyed by my wife. Then Kim screamed “Give it to her!” and I bent down, handing Valentina the index card.

“Read it!” my wife barked. “Look over there!” She yanked Valentina’s long hair, making her ex look at a small hole in the wall a GoPro was looking through.

“I,” Valentina started in tears, “Valentina Vasquez, being of sound mind and body…”

I held my breath as Valentia cried through the whole confession. Holy shit; we’d gotten it! I had no idea if it would hold up in court (I’m not sure how valid a confession is when you’re getting fucked in the ass the whole time)  but I hoped it wouldn’t have to, and just having it on tape would be enough to finally scare my wife’s ex off. Kim finally left off pegging her ex’s ass, telling Val not to move (I stood watch ready to pounce if she did, but she just lay there), going around to her ex’s head. Kimberly lay down on her back, Val’s head between her legs, then reached down and grabbed her ex’s hair, getting her into position; she pushed the strapon into Val’s mouth, ignoring the unhappy moans of her ex, then locked her legs around Val’s head and squeezed. Val lay there, gagging on my wife’s strapon, as Kimberly knocked her out with her legs; Val managed some weak slaps on my wife’s thighs, but nothing else before she was knocked out for the final time. Kim let her go and we wrapped Val in her coat, then opened the front door and threw her out into the night.

We turned to Mel, who had come around by now, although she still looked quite dazed as we advanced on her. She croaked “Rory, give up now and I’ll go easy on you,” which made me laugh until Kim elbowed me in the ribs and I put my mean mug back on.

“Honey, you have something for her, don’t you?” my wife prompted. I did, getting another index card from our bag as Kim manhandled Mel into the middle of the floor, getting her up to her knees. Kimberly kneeled behind her on the carpet just in case, although I don’t know what Mel could have done with her hands zip-tied anyway.. I walked over and held the card in front of Melanie as she peered at it, puzzled.

“What is this?”

“Read it.” I pointed up at a hole in the ceiling; Melanie looked up, not knowing she was being recorded on a GoPro. “Read it into that.”

“‘I, Melanie O’Neill, being of sound mind…’ Rory, is this your idea of foreplay?”

“Just read it!” I yelled.

“Fine, okay. ‘I, Melanie O’Neill’” - Melanie read the entire confession I’d written out for her. If this wouldn’t keep her away, nothing would. When she finished, she aimed a demented leer at me.  “How was that? Can I blow you now, or you have any other weird shit for me to read?”

I looked over her shoulder at my wife, who gave me a nod. I went back to our corner and Kimberly released Mel, who got a little unsteadily to her feet before strutting over to me with her hips swaying confidently. She got on her knees in front of me and kissed the tip of my cock, then took my shaft between her lips and started blowing me. Even after all the time we’d been broken up, Melanie knew just how to drive me crazy, keeping her big, baby blue eyes fixed on mine as my cock disappeared into her mouth. She brought me to the edge quickly, then backed off, torturing me by just holding my tip between her lips; then she started running her tongue around the head, then go back to sliding her mouth up and down my shaft until I got close again. After she did this three or four times, I couldn’t stand it anymore; I told her to finish me and she didn’t hold back, her lips flying up and down my shaft. I started cumming, holding her shoulders for balance as she greedily swallowed my cum, slurping down spurt after spurt.

Spent, I leaned back against the wall as Mel smirked up at me. “How was that?” She gave my cock a few languid sucks, keeping me half-hard. “Can you get it up again quick? I want to get fucked.” I looked over her to see my wife approaching, the strapon bobbing in front of her.

“Sure, I don’t think that will be a problem...”

My ex yelped in surprise as Kimberly gripped her hips. She tried to turn, but I got her head into my armpit and held her there as Kim slipped the dildo in. Melanie let out a deep moan as my wife started fucking her; she struggled a little, but when she couldn’t make any headway against my grip, she seemed to accept it and relaxed. Kimberly hammered Mel with short, deep strokes to start, then slowed down and started really enjoying herself when it was clear Melanie wasn’t going anywhere. She’d been holding on to Melanie’s hips with both hands in a death grip, loosening up as she got into the groove, spanking Mel’s ass. As my ex got close Kim choked up, picking up speed until she was jackhammering my ex, who was reduced to a moaning mess in my arms. Kim grabbed hold of Mel’s pink hair, pulling back, and Melanie’s head came out of my grip.

“You feel that?” Kim yelled at her. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“Uh,” Mel gasped, beyond words.

“Yeah, you are. And you know what? As soon as you finish, you’re never going to see him again. Understand?” Mel could only grunt as Kim slammed home each stroke. “You’re gonna cum like a bitch, and then you’re gonna be out of here, and we’re never going to see you again! Right?” Kim screamed. She put on the finishing touch, forcing Mel to a body-shaking climax; I held on to my ex as she bucked in my grip, yelling out a powerful orgasm, then went completely limp, only my arms holding her up.

Kim pulled out, eyeing her work with satisfaction. “Mel, you still awake?”

“Fuh,” she moaned. She took a few shaky breaths. “I sowwy,” she whined in a little baby voice I didn’t remember hearing. “I sowwy...” it looked like her mind may have finally, completely broken

“All you had to do was leave us alone!” Kim shrieked. “You couldn’t just stay away? Well, this is what happens when you push us! Rory, hold her tight!”

“Not theeee-rrrre,” Melanie whispered as Kim lined the strapon up with my ex’s ass. “That’s just for roooo-rrrrryyyyyy.”

If Mel had promised to fuck off I have no doubt we’d have let her go on her way, but what she’d just said was exactly the wrong thing, and Kim started forcing the dildo up Mel’s shitter, my ex squealing and almost struggling out of my arms as a grunting Kim hitled herself. Melanie was struggling with a burst of the desperate energy, and Kim had to go back to a double grip on her hips as she fucked her asshole. Melanie ran out of gas quickly, becoming a quivering, crying mass in my arms, a pathetic sob punctuating each merciless stroke of Kim’s vengeful strapon. She was finally broken, her messy crying only broken up by shrieks of how sorry she was and ignored pleas for mercy. Kim worked her over until her point had been proven; when we finally released Mel, she flopped to the ground unable to even move as we bundled her into her coat. We tossed her out the front door as well, hands still bound, and closed the door, we hoped, on six years of harassment; I dearly wished the last quick look I got at Melanie’s puffy, tear-streaked face would be the last time I’d ever see her.

Before we went to take a shower, we checked out our opponent’s bags (well, I guess they were our bags too now, come to think of it). I was morbidly curious to see what they had in store for us. Inside was another strapon (for Mel, no doubt), two ball gags, two vibrators - one a huge “magic wand” style and a smaller, six incher - a large bottle of lube, a cock cage with a lock, and a dog collar with my name on it (!!!!).

“What were they going to do with all this stuff?” I asked my wife as I lifted what I later found out was a humbler out of Valentina’s bag.

“Are you serious?” Kim picked up the cock cage. “Nothing good!” She threw the cage to the side and took the collar from me. “I kinda like this, though.” She giggled at my look of shock before slapping me on the shoulder with a “I’m kidding!”

The rest of the night was spent getting cleaned up, moving the furniture back into the living room, and making sure all the GoPro footage came out (it did). As of now, we haven’t had to use any of it; it’s been a little over a year and I haven’t seen Valentina or Melanie since that night, and my social media and email accounts are blissfully free of electronic harassment. Have we finally shaken our horrible exes? Kimberly says it’s too soon to say for sure, but as far as I’m concerned, we’re finally free - and it feels wonderful.