An evening of post-motherly-knockout thinking

Fuck… Everything was getting worse. So much worse. Billy wanted to stop it, even despite the way it got his dick so stiff and twitching, but that was the worst part - he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop it. His mother had just stripped down, shoved her titties in his face, and knocked him out again. Fuck…

She had been so proud. So confident. So powerful. Not at all like the meek, doting, caring mother he’d had all his life before all of this. Before she beat him in a boxing match. Now she was something else, a hot and untameable wild animal who enjoyed playing with her food. And she had never been more beautiful.

Oh god, her tits, her ass… Her soft, deep cleavage that he’d been pulled into… Her matured, domineering personality… This was what Billy was thinking of as he frantically jerked his slippery dick with one hand, kneeling on his bedroom floor. The other hand forcefully held her sweet-smelling yoga pants to his face, breathing it in. She’d stripped these off earlier this same night. Just before she knocked him out again with those damned gloves. With ease. Without any more than a pinky finger of effort. And boxing Billy went down, out cold. The former champion of the house fast asleep.

He couldn’t take her. She was so strong. She had knocked him out, what… four times now? He wasn’t even sure. One smack from momma bear, and it was lights out. She had beaten him time and time again. And she laughed. She enjoyed it. She enjoyed the power, the superiority. It excited her. And whenever he tried to fight back, whenever he went down… she only thought it was funny. Her motherly bosom shaking gently with melodic laughter at her weak, defeated son. Dreaming on the floor at her feet. Out fucking cold.

Billy grunted meekly as he came yet again, blowing his load into some tissues he’d set up on the floor in preparation for his latest submission to Heather. As each spurt fired, he clamped the yoga pants even tighter over his mouth and nose. The material was difficult to breathe through, but the reduced oxygen intake only made Billy even more excited. This tight material had clung tightly to Heather’s shapely, perfect ass. It was almost like his mother was smothering him out again, even as he jerked himself to a submissive completion time her scent and her dominance. Ass-smothering him out by proxy, with much the same effort it took her to punch him out nowadays. If she saw this, saw him nearly knocking out from just her yoga pants, would she let out that same confident, melodic, “I win” laugh?

“Ugh…” Billy moaned as the last pump of semen fired from his dick. He knelt there for a while, just breathing, just thinking. Letting it all sink in.

He had to… He had to get those gloves back. He couldn’t let his own mother keep this up. Keep knocking him out, dominating him, acting all superior. Being all superior. Hell, this mistake he’d made had led to his best friend Matt getting knocked out by his little fucking sister, of all people. It had led to Billy getting knocked out by his little fucking sister. She’d fucking flatlined him, all in front of Heather too. Heather had seen him drop, and not get up. As if knockout power just ran in the family. Like it was only natural for Billy to clock out when he fought little sis.

If Billy could just get rid of those gloves, everything would go back to normal. He had to do something. He couldn’t keep getting KO’d like this. He needed to get rid of the gloves.

His mother was most likely asleep at this hour, and his sister was still out. Given how late it was, she’d probably gone back to Matt’s. Given the way they had been jumping on each other, it made sense, and Anna had seemed extremely sexually excited at her dominance over her big bro. With only Billy awake and in the house, there would be no better time than this.

Heather had taken the gloves with her when she went to her bedroom after waking Billy up, post-humiliating KO. She carried them like no other item in the world was as important. Billy only hoped she hadn’t gone to sleep with them on. When she’d do proudly told his Auntie about the knockouts, she mentioned keeping them at her bedside. If that was still true, and true during the nights as well as during the days when she needed her hands free, then Billy should have been able to go in there and snag them… S-So long as she wasn’t wearing them. If she was, that would be a problem. A really big problem.

Billy picked up his mother’s yoga pants off his floor, and hurried to her room. If he got caught, he figured he could use returning them to her as an excuse for being there, and then just wait for his next chance to take the gloves - provided Heather didn’t see through his story. As much as he wanted to keep the sweet-scented ass huggers, Billy knew that if Heather ever caught him stashing them away, she’d challenge him to a boxing match on the spot. And he would surely lose again, as he had done many times before. He couldn’t take another outboxing knockout, no way.

Billy snuck down the stairs and slowly crept up to his mom’s room. Reaching the door, he paused for a moment, feeling his mouth dry as his heart pounded. What would he find? Would she be awake, or asleep? Would she see right through his lies? Would she think he was there for something else? If she was asleep with the gloves on, how would he get them off of her? …And if she was awake, then what was she doing…?

Billy shook these thoughts out from his mind. Then, steeling himself and ready to finally end his knockout nightmare, he slowly opened the door. It was only when the door was halfway open that Billy remembered how his mother had grounded him to his room earlier, and he hoped against hope that she wasn’t awake, or that “the rest of the day” had ended now that it was so late… And that his punishment wouldn’t be enforced.

On the other side of the door, Billy saw…