Nothing is the same

During that same day, after she’d sobered up, Heather apologized to Billy for telling Aunt Judy about his knockout losses to his mom. As much fun as she had teasing her cocky son and holding her twin KOs over his head, she knew she’d really humiliated him last night, and that she’d gone too far.

Billy accepted the apology quietly and without discussion. He was still dealing with what had happened afterwards, when Aunt Judy took it into her own hands to knock him out. When her fists put him down hard. Asleep. Chinned. Defeated.

Heather, naturally, knew nothing of the private boxing match that had gone on between her son and her sister, let alone the shocking result of it. So she left the topic there. As for Billy, he spent most of the day slowly coming to terms with his new reality.

Judy - fucking JUDY - had knocked him out. Cold.

How had her punch slipped through his defences? She was a drunk, middle-aged milf of a wine aunt. And her punch rocked him to sleep like a sweet lullaby.

Loaded gloves be damned. She was drunk, untrained, and past her prime. She wasn’t even particularly athletic. As hot as it was, as hard as it made his cock every single time he thought about it, this wasn’t a game anymore. She beat him. She knocked him out. And every time he jerked his stiffy to that idea, that fact, was another feather in her cap of total dominance over him. His weak old aunt had beaten him down. He hasn’t been able to stop her from chinning him. She had put his fucking lights out.

The worst part was how regretful and apologetic she’d been. Though if you asked Billy’s cock, that was one of the best parts. The way she humiliated him by apologizing, constantly reminding him of the way she’d beaten him, and truly saying that she’d hadn’t even meant to or wanted to knock him out. It just happened. His auntie was apologizing to him for punching him out like she might have apologized for chipping his favorite plate.

Oh, god. His auntie had punched him out. Every now and then it hit him again, the real meaning of those words. The image of her standing above him, while he slept peacefully on the floor. His middle-aged auntie and her hot body, her fat tits and smooth legs, had hit him so hard that he’d passed out. It was the most embarrassing moment of his life.

Things settled down for a while, though Billy dreaded the next time he would have to see Aunt Judy again. Heather was very upset to find that the gloves were gone from her bedside, thinking she must have misplaced them after drunkenly showing them off to her sister, and spent three whole days searching for them to no avail. That was Billy’s biggest comfort through it all - at least it looked like it was finally over.

His mother and aunt both seemingly felt bad for Billy, and kept their multiple knockouts a secret from the rest of the family and each other. Billy’s mother didn’t feel bad enough to act like it never happened, however. Occasionally Heather would privately tease him, mostly when he was acting up, but also just when she was in need of a laugh and nobody else was around. It made his dick stiff every single time she spoke to him with that voice dripping in arrogance and superiority, even if it reminded him of the shameful way she had utterly earned the right to speak to him that way.

“You have training tonight? Why not just stay home? I could teach you a thing or two about defence. You’ve got a lot to learn from your momma there.”

“Don’t talk back to mommy. You know what happens. It’ll be an early bedtime for you.”

“Did you win your match today? Ahh, good. I like being your only losses, Billy. Only mommy knows how to land punches on your weak spots, isn’t that right? Nobody can do it like mommy can. I can control you with a knockout or two if you ever start getting out of line. Make sure you keep on winning if you know what’s good for you, Billy.”

“Turn off your game and come down here for dinner this instant, or I’ll come up there and smack your jaw until you fall asleep again!”

“Are you listening to me, Billy? Don’t tell me I gave you brain damage when I knocked you out.”

“I hope you realise what I’ll do to you if you ever get knocked out again, Billy. Right now I’m responsible for 100% of your knockouts, and if I ever had to share that with anyone else, I would have to boost my share of the pie. I’d stay at your bedside, punching you out every time you came to until I was up to 90% again. Remember - if you get chinned and pass out, momma’s going to make sure you stay asleep for a month!”

“Didn’t get enough sleep last night, Billy? You should have called me upstairs, I’d have you knocked out in seconds. I don’t mind doing it bareknuckle.”

She would often punctuate her point by making a little fist, and pointing it in the direction of his jaw. Billy’s face would go bright red any time she did this, and he never had any kind of response beyond submissive, quiet silence. After all, his mother had proven her point already. He couldn’t argue with the undefeated milf of the household.

Heather fucking loved his drastic change in demeanor, and these reactions only encouraged her to do it more often. She would occasionally shoot him a little smirk when they passed each other in the house, without event saying anything, and he always knew what that meant. What she was thinking about. His stupid sleeping KO face, lying at her feet.

Sometimes when nobody was around she would shadowbox, jiggling her milf tits and picturing poor Billy getting battered around all over the place. It was the most fun she’d had in years, dominating her own son like this. She so wished she could find where those gloves had gone off to again, so things wouldn’t eventually go back to the way they were before as her knockouts became distant memories for Billy.

But nothing would ever truly be the same. Heather knew it. Billy knew it. Judy knew it especially well. And those loaded gloves were about to make an appearance in the most unlikely of places. Billy would have to face his fears again, and unfortunately, he simply wasn’t up for the challenge.