Adult Image Library 2/Adult_Image_Library_Volume_2.iso/stories/wrest.txt

Text File | 1996-08-27 | 18KB | 344 lines

     Jim O'Donnell's face had turned crimson from the pressure now being
applied to his neck and head, pressure being asserted by the legs of a
beautiful woman.  If anyone had told him two days ago that he would be
humiliated and totally beaten at his own sport by a female, he would
have laughed right in their face.

     Jim was the current wrestling champion of the regional wrestling
association, he had been so for over a year, and he loved it.  He had
defended his title on numerous occasions and had always emerged the victor.
It was after one such occasion, as he was leaving the arena, that he was
approached by a tall black woman.  As she walked over to him he noticed
with genuine interest that she was quite lovely.  He guessed her age would
be around 31.  She had straight hair in a pageboy style, and her lips were
full red with lipstick.

     She wore a tight leather jacket and trousers suit in red, finished off
with red high-heeled ankle boots.  Her jacket was open, revealing a white
blouse which was open at the neck, showing ample cleavage.  He liked what
he saw.  At first he had mistaken her for an autograph hunter, but was soon
put right on the fact when she began to speak.

     "I am not wanting your autograph, Mr. O'Donnell.  I want to represent
you in the future.  I want to manage you."

     Jim had been taken aback by this remark and wondered if she was a bit
of a crackpot.  "I'm sorry Miss, but I already have a manager."  He pointed
to the man standing by his side.

     The woman looked the man up and down, then said, "Please, would you
join me in my car?"  She pointed to a white limo.

     "Go ahead, Frank," Jim said, "I'll wait for you in the car."

     As the woman led Frank to her awaiting chauffeur-driven limo, Jim sat
in the driver's seat of his own car and waited.  Half an hour passed, and
eventually the white limo drove off and Frank rejoined Jim.  A deal had
been struck by the woman and Frank, a sort of wager had been agreed upon.
Jim was to go to the woman's house within two days and wrestle her champion.
If he won, he would receive the sum of thirty thousand dollars.  If he lost,
then she would receive all the rights to promoting him.  At first he refused,
but the thought of a quick, easy thirty thousand dollars soon won him over to
the idea.

     He arrived in the morning of the second day around 11:00.  He pulled
his car onto the drive of the black woman's mansion and gazed at its size
and surroundings.

     A small young white man let him into the house and gestured for him to
follow to a sitting room.  He placed his bag on the floor and sat in one of
the many chairs available.  The young man left him, presumably to inform his
mistress of the arrival of her guest.  He sat and waited.  Shortly after, he
was startled slightly by a voice a voice from behind him.  It was that of the
black woman.

     "Thank you for coming, Mr. O'DOnnell.  I trust that you had a pleasant
journey."

     He nodded his acknowledgement and spoke.  "Thank you, I did.  Where do
we get down to business?"

     She looked different today.  Her hair was brushed back off her face and
tied in a bob at the nape of her neck, her attire was a red leotard.  She
must favor that color, he thought.  The leotard was tight and showed every
curve of her well sculptured body.  Its leg holes were cut high on the hip,
and on her legs she wore sheer lycra tights that enhanced their muscular
shape.  She wore no shoes.  Her body, he noticed, was covered in a slight
film of sweat, probably from an exercise workout, he thought.  All these
spoiled rich chicks do them.

     She spoke again, "You're eager, Mr. O'Donnell.  Bring your things and
follow me."

     She turned and left the room.  Jim picked up his bag and followed
quickly behind.  She led him to her own private gymnasium.  Various pieces
of equipment came to view and in the middle was a large area of wrestling
mats.

     "You may get changed in there," she pointed to a small cubicle.

     He entered it and changed into his wrestling trunks and boots.  As he
reentered the gym, he saw that the black woman had been joined by someone
else.  A very tall white woman was now standing on the mats.  The sight of
her made him wince with delight.  Her body was that of a bodybuilder's,
although not over the top.  Each muscle was well defined and rippled with
power and strength.  Her legs, he decided, were awesome, her thighs were
firm and bulged slightly, real man-crushers.  They were encased in dark
tan colored lycra tights.  She didn't wear shoes either.

     Her leotard was in the same style as the black woman's, only it was
made from the wet-look material.  Her hair was blonde and long and trailed
over her shoulders and hung down her back.  Her face, though beautiful, was
hard; the look in her eyes was one of determination and hunger.

     The black woman introduced the woman to him, "This is Tina.  She is my
champion and your opponent."

     Jim began to laugh, "You're joking, of course."

     "Is something wrong, Mr. O'Donnell?" the negress asked.

     Jim shook his head, "No, nothing.  I just can't believe that you wish
to throw away thirty thousand dollars."

     The black woman's smile broadened.  "You may just be throwing your life
into my hands, Mr. O'Donnell."  Jim stopped laughing and once again looked
at Tina.  She was gesturing for him to join her on the mats.

     The black woman walked over to him and stood in front of him.  She
placed a hand on his chest and trailed her sharp-nailed fingers down it,
scratching lightly.  "Shall we begin?" she asked him.

     He looked into her eyes.  "You're serious," he said.

     "Very serious," she replied.

     He shrugged.  "Lady, it's your money," he said, and went to join Tina
on the mats.  As soon as he had reached the mats, the black woman began to
set the rules of combat.

     "You will wrestle to the first one who manages to obtain five pins or
submissions.  A K.O. is considered as one fall or a submission. You will be
awakened and asked to carry on.  If you cannot, then it will be considered
as a victory to the one left standing.  Do you understand the rules?"  Both
combatants nodded heir heads.

     "What about rounds?" Jim asked.

     "A fall or a submission indicates the end of each round.  You will have
a one minute interval, then you will resume wrestling.  There is no time
limit to this contest.  You will wrestle to a conclusion."  The black woman
took hold of the stool that was in the gym and sat down.  "Are you ready?"
she asked.  The two nodded again.  The black woman smiled, she had faith in
her champion.  "Wrestle on," she shouted.

     They both began to circle each other.  Jim was about to grab Tina's
arm when she suddenly did a forward roll and took hold of his leg, pulling
it from under him; he found himself flat on his back.  She stood and placed
her leg over his.  The feel of the lycra tights on his skin aroused his
senses, but he was soon brought back to the fight by the pain from the
step-over toe-hold she executed on him.  He screamed slightly.  God this
girl was strong.

     "Am I hurting you, you bastard?" she asked mockingly.

     She pressed down some more on his leg and he winced again.  She released
his leg and forward rolled away from him.  He watched her roll across the mats
and come to her feet facing him.  She assumed the wrestler's stance and waited
for him to move.

     "She's quick," he thought to himself.  He flipped himself to his feet
and faced her.  She smiled and edged closer.  "Let her make the first move,"
he thought, "and counter it."

     With speed she charged forward and sent a straight punch to Jim's
jaw.  Taken off-guard by this, he staggered back somewhat but didn't fall.
Tina took advantage of this and moved in closer to unleash a kick to his
unprotected stomach.  The impact made him keel forward, winded.  His lungs
fought for breath.

     Sensing an early victory, Tina entwined her fingers in Jim's hair,
held his head steady, then brought her knees hard into his face.  The blow
sent him crashing to the floor.  He tried to wipe the tears caused by the
blow from his eyes.  They were impairing his vision.  He turned over onto
his side and started to get up, but it was no good.  Before he could do so
he felt Tina grab his hair once again.  He yelped in discomfort.  Suddenly
he felt her strong thigh under his neck, and as she lay on her side, she
placed the other thigh on the top and started to apply the most painful
head scissors.

     "Having fun, Mr. O'Donnell?" asked the black woman, who had been
watching with the greatest of pleasure as her champion was slowly
dismantling Jim O'Donnell.

     He grabbed her thighs, trying to prize them apart, but they were too
strong.  She eased her grip a little to allow him to breathe, then tightened
the hold more.  He gasped as the air was slowly being cut off.  He felt as
though his head was going to burst.

     "Do you submit, Mr. O'Donnell?" asked his blonde tormentress.

     Jim tried again with the little strength he had left to break free
from the killer thighs, but it was useless.

     The black woman laughed.  "If I were you, I'd give in.  She could
break you neck if she wanted to."

     He arched his back into a wrestler's bridge in the hope of dislodging
her, but a quick jab with her left fist to his ribs brought him back down
to the mat.  She tensed her ankles and jerked his throat hard between her
legs.  He slammed the mat hard, indicating his submission, and Tina smiled
as she released him from the devastating hold.

     "On-nil to Tina," stated the black woman.

     Jim could not believe the strength of this woman.  He rubbed his neck
to try to ease the stiffness that the pressure of those relentless thighs
had caused.  His head throbbed from the rush of blood that was now allowed
to circulate again.

     "Round two," shouted the black woman excitedly.

     Jim rose from his stool and rushed at Tina.  Leaping, he took her down
to the floor with a rugby tackle.  He had hoped to gain the advantage, but
the jolt of Tina landing on top made him lose his grip.  Tina wasted no time.
She spun around on top of him and placed her knees one on each arm.  He began
to buck like a wild horse, and Tina rode him.

     "Tame him, Tina girl!" shouted the negress.

     With her right hand, Tina grabbed Jim's chin and held his face upwards
with her left.  She reached around and grabbed his balls.  She twisted them
painfully and Jim let out a yell.

     Tina leaned forward, so that her face was close to his.  "Thought that
you had me, didn't you, boy?"  Her lips were quivering with anger over her
clenched as she spat the words out.  "What's wrong?  Am I hurting you?  Am
I too heavy for you?" she mocked.  "Never been beaten by a woman before,
have you?  Well, I've got news for you.  Not only will you taste defeat
today, but also total humiliation.  You are going to be at our total mercy!"

     She placed her lips onto his and began to kiss him hard.  She forced
her tongue into his mouth and he pulled away in disgust.

     Tina laughed again and inched her body forward.  Closing her thighs,
she trapped his upward face between them.  "You will learn to use that
tongue obediently before the day is over!" she said and moved further
forward until she was straddling his head.

     He could smell the sweaty odor of her sex.  He tried to topple her,
but she held tight.  Slowly, so that he could take in what was happening
to him, she sat down on his face.  Her mound now covered his nose and mouth.
She pressed down hard and moved her hips backwards and forwards, riding his
captured face.

     "Enjoy it while you can, champ!" she said.

     "Smother the bastard!" shouted the black woman.

     Tina turned and looked at her.  "He's of no use to us dead."

     Tina ground down hard again with her ass, forcing muffled cries from
Jim.  After ten minutes of this punishment, occasionally lifting to allow
him air, he gave up.  The second fall went to Tina.

     The minute interval passed, and once again Jim squared up to Tina.
He had to do something quickly - he was losing 2-0 to this female.  He
reached forward and grabbed her arm.  Twisting it quickly, he Irish-whipped
her onto her back.  As he leaned over her to grab her hair, she brought
her legs up over her head and kicked him squarely with both feet in the
chest.  The force sent him sprawling backwards.

     Before he had a chance to do anything, she was on him, wrapping her
strong legs around his waist, squeezing as hard as she could to force him
into submission.  Her body scissors was painful.  His stomach burned from
the pressure of those lycra-clad thighs.  She lay on her side, propping
herself up on one arm for maximum pressure.

     The black woman smiled cruelly.  "Avoid those thighs, Mr. O'Donnell.
They will be the end of you!"

     God, he was in pain.  He tried to force her legs apart with his hands.
She would let him get just so far and then dash all his hopes of escape by
jerking her thighs closed, forcing the air from his lungs.

     "Submit!" she screamed at him.  "Submit to my superior thigh power!"
He shook his his head in defiance and Tina merely smiled.  "You will submit
to them.  They will mash you into putty!" she said.

     He reached for her ankles and started to pull on them, but he soon
let go.  As she tightened her grip, he began screaming and slapped the mat
in submission.  She released her hold and pushed him away with her feet.
The score was now 3-0, and he didn't feel in any state to pull one back.
He just lay there and breathed hard.

     After the interval Tina was relentless.  She could smell victory and
would do anything to gain it.

     She came in fast and hard with a kick to his mid-section.  He doubled
up with pain.  As he did she hooked her arm through his, turned her body
into him, and heaved, bringing him down to the floor with a cross buttock.
He responded quickly and sat up straight into another kick from Tina.  Her
foot caught him under the chin.  The impact made him bite his tongue, and
blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.

     His head was spinning with dizziness.  Hell, this woman was fast.
Whoever had taught her to fight was good.

     As he lay on the floor holding his jaw, she began to reign blows to
his body.  He was open to them and he couldn't even focus on her.  He began
to scream again as the heel of her foot came down on his crotch.  His hands
cupped protectively, so she started to kick elsewhere to his unprotected
parts.

     He rolled over onto his front and curled up into a ball, but the blows
kept on falling.  She stomped on his back, his arms, sending them numb, his
legs.  Then suddenly her heel caught him on the temple, and he felt the
blackness of unconsciousness overcoming him.

     It was the black woman who brought him round.  She tapped his face and
his eyes met hers as she opened them.  "4-0, Mr. O'Donnell.  One more fall
and you're all mine."  She flicked his nose with her finger.

     Tina was rearing to go.  She was already standing in the middle of the
mat, waiting for him.  "Come on champ, let's get it finished," she chided
him.

     He staggered to meet her.  As he reached the middle, she swept his feet
from under him with her leg and followed him down to the floor.  She came in
from behind him.  She snaked out her legs and scissored his neck once again.
He didn't stand a chance now.  He was hers to do with as she liked.  It was
only a matter of time now before she claimed her complete victory, but first
she wanted to make him suffer.  She reminded him of the strength she possessed
in her thighs by tensing them every now and then, turning his face red.

     Tina looked down at him.  "It's time to show some respect for me, champ."
Taking hold of his hair and head, she turned him to face her crotch.  "Kiss
my superior sex," she demanded.  He couldn't break free from the iron-like
hold that her legs had on him.  Even if he could, he hadn't the strength to
keep fighting, so he did as he was told and kissed her.  As he moved away
from her she pulled his face back into her and held him tight with her thighs.
"I didn't tell you to stop."  He kissed her again.  "Use your tongue on me,"
she ordered.

     He began to lick her, wetting her mound through the already wet leotard
and lycra tights.  "That's a good boy," she said mockingly. She looked at the
black woman who had come to stand near them.  "He's all yours," she said,
giving him one last hard squeeze, causing him to gag before the released
him.

     The negress looked down at the beaten champ.  Straddling his body, she
lowered herself onto his chest, pinning his arms with her knees.  "It seems
that I am your new manager, Mr. O'Donnell."  She sat with her hands on her
hips in the dominant position.

     She said, "I've got lots of plans for you, Jim, plenty of jobs, and I
think that we will start with this."  She edged herself forward onto his
face and moved her hips rhythmically over his nose and mouth.  She moaned
with pleasure as his tongue began to probe.

     The impact made him bite his tongue, and blood dripped from the corners
of his mouth.

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