Double the Pleasure
By Weenie-Arm dbhood@aol.com
It's a battle of Strong Arms vs. Strong Legs when Carol wrestles her twin sister for Weenie-Arm's entertainment!  Part III of a series.


"The Doctor will see you shortly", the Nurse announced from the doorway as I
sat in the examining room, staring at the four white walls. It had been three
days since my wrestling match with Carol and I was feeling the aftereffects of
her brutal bear hug. My midsection was covered with nasty purple bruises and
my ribs hurt like hell. I didn't believe I was seriously injured but I decided
to pay a visit to my friend, Dr. Stephen White, just to be on the safe side.

Steve had been a classmate of mine in college. We both majored in Chemistry.
He went on to medical school and became a successful general practitioner
while I rotted away in the laboratory of a small pharmaceutical company. We
remained friends even though we traveled in vastly different social circles.
Soon enough, the Good Doctor made his entrance and after the usual round of
handshakes and inquiries, he had me remove my shirt and began the examination.

"My God, Dave, how did this happen to you?" he asked in dismay. I told him the
story of the wrestling match and how it ended when I blacked out from lack of
oxygen in Carol's suffocating embrace. Steve had a hard time believing a
woman's arms could have caused such bruises, but I finally convinced him it
was true. He wanted to know if I had noticed any discoloration of my urine or
feces that could indicate internal bleeding.

"No, Steve. But her bear hug was one of the scariest experiences of my life!
It felt like being caught in a vice. Carol was very patient, but relentless.
Every time I exhaled, she tightened her hold a little more until finally I
couldn't breath at all. Her strong arms wrapped me so tight my ribs felt like
they were about to touch my spine. I'm almost certain she could have squeezed
me even harder if she hadn't decided to turn me loose."

"It's lucky for you she quit when she did. Judging from the severity of these
bruises, she would have definitely broken some ribs and possibly ruptured your
internal organs had she kept going. Your friend must have a pretty good
understanding of anatomy and physiology to have judged your body's breaking
points so well. Despite what she told you about losing control, there was
method to her madness. She applied just the right amount of pressure in the
right places to paralyze your respiratory system without causing any lasting
damage. I have a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing."

"In college she majored in Biology with a minor in Chemistry."

"Sounds to me like she could have majored in Strength Conditioning as well!
Okay, so this strong girl put your lights out, decided she had made her point,
and let you go. Then she spent the evening nursing you back to health. Do you
have any idea why a friendly little apartment match turned so ugly?"

"I've thought about it quite a bit. When I told Carol I would rather be
getting my ass kicked by her than doing anything else with anyone else, she
became rather hostile. Perhaps she thought I was getting too familiar with her
and wanted to throw some cold water on my affection. Maybe she felt like I was
enjoying our match a little too much, even though I was losing badly, and
wanted to inflict some real pain. She does have a sadistic streak."

"Her desire to show off is another possible explanation. Before she put me in
the bear hug, she said she was going to show me once and for all how strong
she really is. And she succeeded in doing just that! If she had wanted to end
the match quickly and go about her business, there were plenty of ways she
could have forced me to submit. Carol had my left arm behind my back and could
have easily twisted it. With her strength, she could have had me begging for
mercy in no time flat! But she didn't want a submission. She enjoyed holding
me captive in her arms, feeling her power and my helplessness, and then slowly
squeezing me into unconsciousness."

"Those are good points" said the Doctor. "I'm not a psychiatrist, but take my
advice as your physician and your friend. Unless you have a death wish, don't
do this again! You may not be as fortunate next time. I know you are attracted
to this young lady, but if I were you, I would stay away from her. She sounds
like a head case!" Steve gave me a prescription for some pain relief
medication and sent me on my way.

That night I relaxed in front of the television as the doctor's prescription
began to take effect. A pleasant drowsiness overcame me and I was nodding off
to sleep when the phone rang. It was Carol.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm a little sore and bruised, thanks to you, but I'll survive!" was my
reply. I didn't tell her about my visit to the doctor. Why give her the
satisfaction of knowing how much she had hurt me?

"You poor thing!" she moaned in sympathy. "I guess I don't know my own
strength! But don't you worry. I have a little surprise in store that will
cheer you up! Can you come over again this Saturday afternoon?"

My sleepy head filled with lustful visions of Carol performing various acts of
Tender Loving Care on my body! Just for the fun of it, I decided to play
hard-to-get.

"I'm not going to wrestle you again. Not now, not ever! You are much too
strong for me. If we fought a hundred times, you would win a hundred times.
End of story."

"Well, I'm glad you learned something last weekend! No, I don't want a
rematch. But if you can be at my place, let's say about 2:00, I promise you
will enjoy yourself!" How could I refuse such a tempting offer?

"See you then!"

* * * * * * * * * * * *

On Saturday afternoon I arrived at Carol's apartment with bells on and was
greeted immediately. My hostess wore the same light gray sweat suit as a week
ago, but today her dark brown hair seemed rather curly and a bit longer.

"Hi, Carol! It's good to see you again. Gee, your hair looks great!"

"Thanks, but I'm not Carol. I'm her sister Karla! You must be Dave. Come on
in!" Holy Shit! I knew Carol had a sister, but I had no idea they were
identical twins. This must be the surprise she had promised!

"Carol's still at the gym" Karla continued. "We went down together for a
workout, but she couldn't tear herself away from those weights! I believe
she's become addicted to sweat. She'll be back soon."

We made ourselves comfortable on the sofa and chatted as if we had known each
other all our lives. Karla lived two hundred miles away and was in town for a
weekend visit. She seemed a gentler, more girlish, but slightly less brainy
version of her twin.

"You know, Carol talks about wanting Girl Muscles, but there's nothing dainty
about her arms and shoulders anymore! I can't believe how big and hard they've
gotten since the last time we visited, which was only two months ago" Karla
confided. "You should have seen her in the weight room! She was pumping some
serious iron, and the 'Steroid Queens' were checking her out. I think some of
them see her as an up-and-coming rival. And the others just want to get in her
pants! Don't get the wrong idea; Carol likes guys, not girls! She was watching
the boys, and they were noticing her, too!"

I brought Karla up to date on my relationship with Carol, including a detailed
account of our wrestling match. We heard the front door open and Carol entered
the room, still puffing and sweating from her strenuous workout. She was
wearing her trademark gray sweats and looked identical to Karla except for her
shorter coiffure and the towel around her neck. She wiped the sweat from her
face and threw the towel over the back of a chair.

"I see you two have gotten acquainted" Carol remarked with a smile. "Bet you
were surprised to discover I have a clone!"

"Yes, it was quite a shock. This is what I call a double date! I must be the
luckiest guy in town!" I replied gallantly.

"We're not exactly alike by any means," said Karla as she returned from the
kitchen with a tray of Diet Cokes. The three of us sat on the big sofa with me
sandwiched in the middle. As we refreshed ourselves, the girls catalogued
their differences.

"I weigh about 7-8 pounds more than Karla and it's all upper body muscle. I
lift weights a lot more than she does. But Sis does quite a bit of running and
aerobics to maintain her slender girlish figure, so her legs are probably
stronger than mine" Carol pointed out.

"That 7-8 pounds is more crap than muscle!" Karla teased. "Another difference
I'm sure you noticed last weekend is her hairy armpits! Every fall since she
was in high school, Carol stops shaving under her arms as soon as it gets cool
enough to wear long sleeves. And you can tell it's officially springtime when
she shaves off her winter growth and starts wearing short sleeves and
sleeveless tops again."

"Shaving is such a bother!" Carol complained. "It's tedious and time
consuming. I'm so hairy I have to shave every couple of days to keep my five
o'clock shadow from showing, so I look forward to letting my razor go into
hibernation during the winter months."

"I'm just as hairy as you are, my dear, yet I manage to keep my pits silky
smooth year round. Shaving is just part of being a girl!"

"I don't know" Carol mused. "I think guys sort of like my hairy pits, or at
least find them interesting. Did you notice the way the boys at the gym kept
staring at them? Or maybe it was my muscles that got their attention!" She
giggled. "What do YOU think, Dave? Should I shave?"

"Hairy underarms go well with your wrestling persona as the Kentucky Wildcat!"
I replied. "They make you look feral. And they give you an earthy European
appearance I find rather sexy!"

"You see?" Carol smiled triumphantly at her twin and gave me a big hug. I
winced in pain and a look of concern crossed her pretty face. "Are your ribs
still sore? Let me have a look at them! Do you mind unbuttoning your shirt?" I
undid my shirt and revealed the hideous band of bruises. They clearly marked
the places where her arms had encircled me. Karla looked horrified, especially
when Carol smugly turned to her and boasted, "Look what I did to him!" without
the slightest hint of remorse.

A sick feeling swept over me as I buttoned up. Maybe Steve was right. Carol
might be a head case after all! She seemed to have a split personality. One
minute she was sweet and caring, the next she was cold and cruel. It was
shocking how quickly she could change.

"You tattooed him, for sure!" commented Karla, not knowing what else to say.
That made me think of Carol's hickey (which had almost disappeared.) Now both
of us knew what it was like to be branded!

"Sure you want to go ahead with our plan for this afternoon?" Carol smirked at
Karla. "I might give you the same rough treatment!"

"Dream on! It'll never happen!" Karla shot back. "I'm not afraid of a bully
like you!"

I had no idea what they were talking about and gave the girls a quizzical
look. Carol brought me up to speed. "Do you remember my telling you how the
two of us used to wrestle when we were growing up? We decided it would be fun
to stage an exhibition for your entertainment!"

"Cool!" was all I could say. The thought of watching these attractive twins
grapple thrilled me no end!

"Let's get ready!" Carol directed. We moved the furniture back against the
wall to create a wrestling ring. I was too sore to help with the heavy sofa,
but the sisters managed it quite well by themselves. These were two strong
girls and this should be an interesting match, I thought.

My two companions removed their sweat suits. Carol wore the same outfit as
last week: a black sports bra and matching running shorts. Karla was similarly
attired, except her bra was white and her shorts were blue, bearing the logo
of the University of Kentucky. I sized them up as they stood side by side.
Carol's arms were obviously more developed than her sister's, but Karla
appeared to have more muscular legs. They both looked great! The other
noticeable difference was the dark shaggy growth in Carol's armpits compared
with Karla's clean-shaven underarms.

"You know the rules, same as always" Carol said to Karla, who nodded in
agreement. "Since this is merely an exhibition and not a real match, we'll go
for one fall only, to be decided by submission. OK Weenie-Arm, you're the MC!"

I rose to my feet for the introductions. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this afternoon
we have a special treat for your viewing pleasure. Our two contestants from
the Bluegrass State will demonstrate the art of Ladies' Wrestling. In this
corner, weighing in at 132 pounds, we have the Challenger. I present to you:
the Kentucky Thoroughbred!" Karla smiled her approval at my choice of
nicknames. "And in this corner, weighing in at 140 pounds, we have the
Champion. Undefeated and untamed, I present to you: the Kentucky Wildcat!
Contestants, you may now shake hands and come out fighting!"

The pair shook and quickly got down to business. They locked hands and
jockeyed for position. Karla's superior leg strength soon had Carol on the
defensive. The Challenger moved one leg behind Carol and deftly tripped her.
The pair crashed to the floor and began rolling around in a ball like two
kittens. First one was on top, then the other. The action continued fast and
furious. Finally the dust settled and Karla had the advantage. She lay on her
side with her legs around Carol's waist in a classic scissors hold. Karla
locked her ankles and began closing her muscular thighs on her victim.

It was evident from the expression on Carol's face that things were getting
mighty uncomfortable for her. She twisted and turned desperately but was
unable to break free from her sister's torturing legs. Her breathing became
labored. I remembered reading that boa constrictors hate to be squeezed, since
that is the method they use to kill their prey. Good, I thought, what goes
around comes around! Carol had enjoyed crushing my body a week ago. Let her
have a dose of her own medicine!

"Turn out the lights, the party's over!" Karla sang. "This is fun! Are you
ready to give up, or should I make it hurt some more?"

"Never!" snarled the Champion, gritting her teeth. She managed to work her
hands inside of her sister's knees and tried to pry those crushing thighs
apart, but without success. Her plight seemed hopeless and I expected her to
submit any minute. Instead, Carol closed her eyes and her face took on a look
of total concentration. With her last gasp of breath she let out a deep primal
grunt and strained with all her might. Her biceps balled up into two huge wads
of muscle, bigger than I had ever seen them before! That extra work in the gym
had really paid off! Karla watched in shocked disbelief as Carol's strong arms
slowly forced her legs wide open. The Kentucky Wildcat was on the loose again!

Both girls scrambled to their feet. They squared off again, but things were
different now. Karla had played her trump card and Carol had beaten it! No
longer a battle between equals, it was now a game of Hunter and Hunted. Gone
were the earlier smiles and laughter. Carol had blood in her eyes as she
stalked her prey. Her arms looked super-pumped from her exertion to free
herself. Remembering last weekend when she let me measure her biceps, I
couldn't help but wonder how far she would stretch the tape now with her
muscles bulging and throbbing - just itching to exact their revenge!

Karla soon found herself backed into a corner. Instinctively I knew what was
about to happen. Sure enough, Carol's long arms lashed out like tentacles and
wrapped themselves around her newest victim. She drew Karla close in a steely
embrace. There was nothing fancy or technical about Carol's strategy; this was
pure power wrestling! Although the two of them were the same height and almost
the same weight, Carol's broad shoulders and thick arms made her seem hulking
in comparison. She held her sister perfectly still, tits against tits, and
looked at her with the cold, merciless eyes of a boa constrictor examining
some hapless creature trapped in its coils.

"What should I do with her, Weenie-Arm?" Carol inquired. "Crack her ribs? It
would be so easy for me to do! I'm sure you know that!"

"Don't, Carol!" I pleaded. I tried to sound authoritative, but my words came
out as a sniveling whine. I was afraid of what she might do to Karla - and to
me if I tried to intervene.

Carol grasped her left wrist with her right hand and flexed her arms, causing
Karla to squirm with discomfort. I watched in powerless fascination as those
big biceps began to swell, knowing all too well the pain they were capable of
inflicting. Karla gasped loudly as the two rock- hard muscles dug deeply into
her vulnerable ribcage. Her hands clawed Carol's back frantically.

"This is fun!" Carol chuckled wickedly as she adjusted her hold and took up
more slack. I could hear the air being forced out of Karla's lungs as her
stronger sibling slowly squeezed all the fight out of her. Poor Karla's arms
ceased to struggle and hung limp and useless at her sides.

"Turn out the lights, the party's over!" sang Carol, mimicking her sister. "Do
you give up, or should I make it hurt some more?" To emphasize her point, she
drew her arms in another notch and applied more pressure. Karla's face was red
as a beet.

"I give!" Karla squeaked, barely audible. Carol relaxed her arms and watched
with satisfaction as her beaten sister slumped to the floor. Karla lay there
for a few minutes, dazed and completely out of breath, while Carol sashayed to
the kitchen in a sort of Victory Dance. The Undisputed Champion returned with
two bottles of water and handed one to her vanquished foe.

We sat in awkward silence while Karla regained her composure. Carol seemed to
be brooding, her thoughts far away. For my part, I did not want to get
involved in a family feud and bided my time until the two factions healed the
breach.

Finally Carol looked at me and said, "Don't expect me to apologize to her,
Weenie-Arm. She tried to do the same thing to me, but I succeeded where she
failed! Karla got off easy compared to what I did to you!"

Karla nodded. "She's right, Dave. No hard feelings on my part!" Turning to
Carol, she added, "Good job! You've gotten too strong for me to wrestle
anymore."

Carol beamed. "Thanks, Sis!" The tension in the room was gone. "You know, I
would really enjoy seeing you and Weenie-Arm have a go at it sometime when
he's recovered from his own encounter with these babies!" She flexed her arms
and her biceps obediently rose up and showed us their peaks. They served as
intimidating reminders of her power over us.

"Put your arms down, please!" Karla laughed, sniffing the air and turning up
her cute nose. "The worst part about tangling with you was having to put up
with your obnoxious BO! You smell more like a Kentucky Polecat than a Wildcat!
I know you showered first thing this morning, but I'll bet you left off the
deodorant again, didn't you?"

"Well, yes!" Carol admitted sheepishly. "If I'm going to work out and wrestle,
I'm going to sweat. Sweat is natural. Sweat is our friend. It cleanses the
pores. Why should I apply something to inhibit a normal bodily function unless
I'm planning to be around people who might be offended by my natural
fragrance?"

"In other words, you don't mind smelling like a locker room around Dave and
me? Thanks a lot!"

"You've both smelled me before! That's my normal wrestling scent. You don't
just feel my power, you inhale it!"

"And very few scents are as powerful as my sister when she gets good and ripe!
Ugh!" exclaimed Karla. "Don't forget you have all that hair under your arms to
hold the sweat and odor in place. I'll bet your armpits are hairier than
Dave's!"

Carol turned to me with a haughty smile on her face. "Let's compare!" she
challenged. This was yet another contest she was confident she would win!

"Let's don't, and say we did!" I declined, hoping this unusual thread of
conversation would die a natural death. I felt like my masculinity was being
called into question.

"Aw, come on, Dave!" Karla chimed in. "We put on a show for you. The least you
can do is play along with us! Take off your shirt and show us what you've
got!"

"I'm too embarrassed!" I protested.

"Think about how embarrassed you'll be if I have to rip that shirt off your
back!" Carol threatened. She meant business. I decided to comply since I was
outvoted - and out-muscled. For the second time that afternoon I unbuttoned my
shirt.

Carol leaned back on the sofa and clasped her hands behind her head, exposing
her furry, sweaty underarms to us. With her arms flexed, her big muscles and
hairy pits would have made her look like a man, had it not been for the sight
of her pretty face and firm, round breasts. Two large, erect nipples strained
against the fabric of her sports bra.

"OK, Weenie-Arm, assume the position and we'll let Karla be the judge" Carol
commanded. "She'll decide who wins the Hairy Pits Award!"

I raised my arms and Karla looked us over appraisingly. She quickly rendered
her decision.

"Dave's hairs are longer, Carol, but your patch is wider. And your hairs are
more densely concentrated, giving you a thicker growth. So the winner is the
Kentucky Wildcat, by more than a hair!"

"Well, well!" crowed Carol with a renewed sense of superiority. "It appears my
Girl Pits have grown more hair over the winter than yours have produced in a
lifetime! How does that make you feel, Mr. He-man?"

"Too bad there isn't an award for Stinky Pits!" I muttered, holding my nose.

"Pay no attention to her, Dave!" Karla interjected. "Just because my sister is
proud of looking like a gorilla doesn't make you any less a man!" She leaned
closer and whispered, "If you think her armpits are hairy, you should see her
bush! She has enough wool down there to knit a sweater!"

"I heard that!" Carol retorted. "Like you've got any room to talk!"

Before the verbal jousting could go any further, the doorbell rang and Carol
got up to answer it. I wondered if she was in the habit of greeting visitors
at the door in her bra.

"Hello, Jim! I'm so glad you came by!" she gushed and threw herself into the
arms of the young man in the doorway. The two kissed passionately. Her
Gentleman Caller didn't seem the least bit offended by Carol's pungent body
odor and began nibbling on her neck while his hands explored her shapely body.

"Easy, Lover!" she scolded. "I don't want you giving me any more of those ugly
hickeys!"

She took him by the hand and led him into the living room. "Karla, Dave, I
want you to meet Jim! He lives two doors down."

My heart sank.

(To be continued.)