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Old 18-Jul-11, 02:50
wbill99
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Default Margaret and Roger

Margaret put the phone down with a smile of satisfaction. At last a session booking that was worthy of her. The male voice had been confident, almost arrogant, and had crisply informed her that he was an experienced submission wrestler and was expecting a hard contest with no holds barred. Margaret, told that his name was Rodger, had booked him with alacrity. In all truth, she was tired of rather pathetic middle-aged men beating a path to her door, whose only expectation was to be pinned and have their faces sat on as quickly as possible. It was all a little pathetic. Margaret had no problem with face sitting, in fact it was a major turn on, but only after an energetic contest and as part of the subjugation process. The money she made was great, and so was the pathetic gratitude that she received afterwards, but she gained little real satisfaction herself and so far, most of the money received she had spent on refurbishing the shed which was her gym or wrestling room. The new mat alone had cost her a small fortune, and along with a new shower cubicle in the corner, left her with very little money to spend on herself.

Margaret had really worked on her grappling skills since she had started her little enterprise. She was not a large person, but she was naturally strong and she bought a couple of barbells to work with until she could at least, present a decent bicep. Her neighbour, Greg, had agreed with great alacrity to be her sparring partner. She had worked with him and on him for hours, perfecting her holds and, as a reward, indulging in prolonged periods of facesitting which brought obvious gratification to both of them. This had inevitably led to them becoming sexual partners, Margaret was unwilling to describe them as lovers, but the relationship had met a need for both of them and there was an unspoken agreement that, for the moment at least, that’s where both of them wanted it left.

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Margaret awaited the appointment with great expectation. She had selected a plain green wrestling leotard for the occasion. It was quite high cut and really emphasized her formidable thighs and also had good support for her breasts – not that she worried if one flopped out, it was just another advantage that women had. She had very prominent nipples when aroused, which was usually as soon as she started to wrestle, and she defied any man to keep his mind on the job when one of these protubences was rubbed around his face. When wrestling Greg on one occasion, having got him securely restrained in a reverse headscissor, she had playfully pulled down his speedos and lightly rubbed a nipple up and down the length of his erect penis. The result had been immediate and spectacular – Margaret had only got her face out the firing line in time.

The front doorbell had rung promptly at 7.30pm and on answering, Margaret was surprised to find two figures standing at her door. One was obviously her client, but the other figure was female, tall and dark. At her invitation they stepped inside. Roger introduced his companion as Anthea, describing her as his amuensis and sparring partner and asked Margaret if she minded if Anthea watched them fight. . Margaret tried to keep the surprise off her face as she agreed a little reluctantly to the request. Nothing had been said when the booking had been made and this made Margaret a little nervous and vulnerable. If she had been asked in advance she would have got Greg to attend as well. Too late now, she thought as she led the way down the hall to the changing room. .
By the time Margaret had pulled all the curtains in the wrestling room and done her pre-fight regime of stretching and bending exercises, Roger and his observer had entered the brightly lit room with its pristine blue wrestling mat. Margaret observed him closely. He was around the same height as Margaret, very trim and fit looking but not impressively muscled. The thing that attracted her attention was the brief pair of speedos he was wearing – exactly the same green colour as Margaret’s leotard. But what was remarkable was the way he filled them. Without being erect, his cock and balls were huge, and totally out of proportion to his physique and height. Margaret thought that he looked ridiculous and she would have no qualms about grabbing them if she had to. His companion was also remarkable in a completely different way. She was taller than either Roger or Margaret and was dressed entirely in black. Her complexion was very pale and she had jet black hair cut very short. A long black, lightweight burbury style overcoat on and a pair of stylish, high heeled boots completed the picture. Her expression was impassive – a very cool customer indeed, Margaret thought.

On the mat, Roger was doing a series of stretching exercises, showing surprising flexibility. Margaret was a little perplexed by him. They had spoken very little since arrival and apart from agreeing that it was submissions only, the conversation, such as it was, verged on the banal. At last, stretching and flexing done with, Roger moved to the centre of the mat and waited for Margaret.

She was in no hurry. Letting her robe fall to the ground, Margaret did a languorous backbend, palms touching the mat behind her. She knew that it was a sexy move – clients had told her that and she always thanked the yoga instructor who had trained her to do it. Men went gaga over contortion type manoeuvres – and they always made her feel sexy as well. Having established a base, Margaret completed a graceful walkover. Smiling broadly at her opponent she advanced to the middle of the mat. Simultaneously, as if choreographed, they both went into a wrestler’s crouch and shuffling forward locked up with a loud slap.

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

The match turned out to be very even. Margaret’s speed and flexibility cancelled out Roger’s slight strength advantage and a dazzling variety of holds were clamped and broken. At one stage Margaret even found herself in the unfamiliar position of being held in a schoolgirl pin. Sitting high on chest his balls thrust aggressively into her chin, Margaret resisted the temptation to sink her teeth into them and instead snared him with her legs to dismount him. She was wrestling calmly, working to a plan; noticing that Roger was starting to puff slightly, she smiled and knew that her chance would come shortly. At the moment, Roger had got her in a side body scissor, but Margaret could sense he had not got the leg strength to force a submission. It was time to make her move. Using a move she had learned in a Judo manual, she used two knuckles of her right hand and struck with surgical precision at a point just below his ribcage. Roger yelped and loosened the body scissor. Margaret freed herself and moved with the speed of a striking snake. Her legs flashed, Roger’s head was snared, her ankles crossed and the head scissor was secured. She relaxed her grip a little, yanked his head high up into her groin and tightened it again - really hard.

Margaret smiled to herself. That was it – game over, no-one escaped her headscissors the submission was next, followed by the subjugation [some would say torture]. She would let him thresh, squirm and wriggle for a while more, knowing that it would tire him even more, before she converted the hold to a figure four.

She changed the hold to the figure four and held him with total ease. She gazed down at the tomato red face and began her submission demands. Margaret looked across at Anthea, sitting with Madonna like calm, chin in her hands, watching the demise of her companion. She reached down and pulled up on her right ankle, tightening the hold even more. “Submit! .Come on, submit! There’s no way out of this hold and the more you wriggle and squirm, the tighter the hold will get. Tap, if you can’t say it . Submit!” The last demand was accompanied by a jerk on her ankle. For the first time, her victim started to gurgle and show signs of distress. God this hold made her feel sexy. There was something primeval about having someone at her mercy. She remembered with great clarity, her first orgasm as she pinned a male classmate in some long grass in the paddock at the back of the school. Hidden from sight, with the smell of crushed grass assailing her nostrils, she had straddled him most of the afternoon, inventing all sorts of torments as she tortured him. She had sat on his face and found that the prominent seam of her jeans, in combination with his largish nose, found just the right spot, and she had yelled her pleasure to the world at large. She had felt a bit guilty at the time, but as she got older and more confident in her sexuality, the guilt feelings vanished and she exalted in her fighting ability.

Roger began to choke and gag. ‘Submit, you stupid bastard before I strangle you completely.” Margaret was getting angry – she was anxious to proceed to the next stage. Recognizing the inevitable, Roger tapped the canvas – rather weakly, Margaret thought. Instantly, the leggy noose was loosened and Roger was rolled on his back. Margaret mounted him with a contented sigh. Her victim looked spent. She pinned his unresisting wrists beside his head and spread her knees wide to pin his arms way out toward his elbows. Pausing briefly, to smile brightly down at him, she slid forward to jam her crotch into his chin. Roger looked totally bewildered at his demise.

“Well Roger, it looks like I win. You have submitted to me – but there’s another little price to pay, apart from my fee. You booked me for an hour and there’s still ten minutes to run and I intend to have a little fun. I love the schoolgirl pin, don’t you? It speaks to me of total dominance and tells me a lot about male and female relationship. A man emerges into the world from between a woman’s legs and spends so much of his life trying to get back” Margaret giggled and slid forward onto his face. There was a muffled groan from under her. She made little circular movements with her hips. God, that felt good. She looked behind her – just as I suspected, she thought. His cock was now upright, straining the front of his speedos. Just like all the others, she thought – once they get there nose lodged in the cleft of my pussy, then nature takes over. She rose up and with the speed of much practice, whirled and resumed her throne, facing his feet. She wriggled around and bent forward a little to get his nose in the same position. She reached down, tickled his cock and looked quizzically at Anthea who was sitting with a faintly amused expression on her face. She gave an almost imperceptible nod. Margaret reached down grasped his speedos and rolled them down onto his thighs.

Anthea strolled across the mat and smiled down at them. Undoing her long black coat she let it fall to the floor. Margaret gasped in astonishment. Under her coat she was wearing what looked like a thin black leather corset. Her breasts were impressive and the cut of the corset and her black boots showed her powerful, creamy thighs to their full advantage. She straddled Roger and impaled herself on his cock – obviously the corset was crotchless. “Let’s roger Roger” she said with a chuckle.

Margaret was gobsmacked. She was momentarily oblivious to the groans beneath her as Anthea leant forward and drawing Margaret toward her , kissed her deeply; Anthea’s tongue flicking around inside her mouth like a small snake. Andrea dis-engaged, and spreading her thighs wide, began a little dance of dominance. Her hips moved in a tiny circles, then backwards and forwards and up and down on Roger’s cock. Margaret began to mimic her movements. To and fro, backwards and forwards her hips went, her breathing becoming erratic as she raped his face. It became a choreographed race towards orgasm. Margaret won by a head from Roger, whose muffled wail caused Anthea to stop moving and with rippling movements of her abdomen, visible through the thin leather of the corset, milked his cock dry. Her orgasm, if she had one, was largely imperceptible, only a biting of the bottom lip betraying any excitement.

Margaret dismounted from Roger’s wet, red face and went across to a small cupboard and extracted a armful of towels. She distributed these around the trio and extended her hand to help Roger to his feet. Anthea had dismounted too and stood looking at Margaret speculatively, head on one side. As Roger took his towel and staggered away towards the shower, Anthea moved toward Margaret and kissing her deeply again, whispered “You and I, tomorrow night, right here, no holds barred. No-one else -just you and I.”

Margaret nodded mutely. Anthea, a little smile playing around her lips, picked up her coat, put it on, and, without waiting for the demoralized Roger, headed for the door. Stopping only to blow a kiss at Margaret, she was gone.
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