A Tangle with Tanya

[inconcordim]

Hey, everyone! I've put together a story regarding a (fictional) match between a friend and I. I'll be posting this a bit at a time (probably one fall each day) as it is rather lengthy.

The first combatant is Paul, an avid Taekwondo student who stands 5'9" and weighs 140lbs. His opponent, Tanya, is 5'6" and 160lbs, an athletic jack of all trades and a cowgirl from the same town. Pictures of Tanya are attached, with permission.

Hope you enjoy reading as much as I have enjoyed writing!

[inconcordim]

This was it, the end of a journey that had taken me years.

Having just turned 18 and graduated from high school, I now faced my black belt test. Taekwondo was my life and this bid to obtain my il-Dan seemed a culmination of everything else I had done up until this point. For the past 24 hours, I had been training constantly, passing a series of tests meant to push me to my limits. I had endured them all so that I could stand exhausted before my Master and an audience comprised of my family, friends, and classmates to await one final challenge.

I could feel my heart pounding high in my throat as the anticipation gripped me. I had smashed through boards and bricks, run laps around the building in the simmering sun. What else could stand between me and my prize? Whatever awaited me, I’d overcome it all the same, I was sure.

“You have performed well, Paul,” the head instructor of my dojang observed.

I could tell he was proud, and it only made the fire in my chest burn more brightly. “Thank you, sir!”

“You have one more test to pass before I can bestow upon you the rank of il-Dan,” he continued. “As a black belt, your actions will reflect upon the reputation of this school. You have shown that you can bring us pride in tournaments against the students of other schools. But in your travels, you may have to face fighters of other styles. You will need to uphold the reputation of this school against opponents who fight very differently from you.”

I nodded, wondering where this was going. Was he about to pose a puzzle or a riddle? How would I go about that when my mind was clouded by a heady cocktail of adrenaline and sleep deprivation?

“Turn and face your next challenge.”

Stepping onto the mats, I saw a familiar face: Tanya. An exotic beauty whose family roots were in Chile, I had admittedly nurtured a crush on her for several years, but I had never thought to make a move. What was she doing here, though? An athlete in her own right, Tanya spent more time in the saddle than out of it, a cowgirl in every sense of the word. Her only breaks from equestrianism were taken up with diving and dancing, as well as some rumoured dabbling in judo. But she was certainly no martial artist, at least not of my level. She looked ready for a sparring match, decked out in grey yoga pants and a grey tank top with her brunette hair in a tight ponytail.

“Hey! Are you ready for this, or what?” Tanya asked, looking me up and down as if surprised I wasn’t so thrilled to see her.

Confounded, I looked to my Master for explanation. He simply said, “You will face her in a sparring match and show us whether you are prepared to face any challenge. Five falls, pin counts of five or submissions only. Begin!”

I heard some cheers from my family, but the atmosphere seemed subdued. I was clearly not alone in being unsure what to make of all this. Standing at 5’6”, I had the height advantage over my surprise opponent by about three inches. But I had always trained for the quick exchanges of kicks that characterized Taekwondo matches, which left me at 140lbs and rather unimposing. Tanya, on the other hand, had reached 160lbs of muscle, built specifically for exerting control over beasts almost ten times my size. An aspiring police officer, she might have some other tricks at her disposal I was unaware of.

I cast such doubts out of my mind. Yes, she boasted a weight advantage and could have picked up a few clever techniques here and there. But I was a true martial artist, a professional. No rank amateur could ever best me after I’d spent countless hours honing and refining my skills. Tanya could be a jack of all trades, but I was a master of this one.

I assumed an exaggerated sparring stance, trying to play up the esoteric side of Taekwondo and make Tanya hesitate or reconsider. At the very least, I needed to buy myself time as to how I would exactly go about this. My training specialized in striking, but I was reluctant to start lashing out with kicks and punches at someone so out of her depth. That would be cruel, I decided. The safest option would be to close with her, snap out a headlock, and then take her down as gently as possible for the pin. After that first fall, she might see the folly in all of this and forfeit.

Tanya stood patiently waiting in a loose stance, looking very relaxed and confident. But, as soon as I closed with her, she sprang into action with a speed and aggression that caught me totally by surprise. She reached out and grabbed hold of both my wrists, yanking hard to pull me in toward her. I wasn’t about to be taken so easily and stood my ground, though this was enough to throw me off balance. I didn’t have time to feel smug about this, however. As soon as I resisted, Tanya changed tacks, releasing my wrists and lunging in. As I staggered, she plowed into me, wrapping her arms tightly around my mid-section and placing her lead leg directly between my own legs.

With a heave, Tanya pivoted and dragged me with her. Losing my footing, I was slammed down hard to the mats, knocking the wind out of me and leaving a dull throbbing pain throughout my back. Tanya followed the momentum, falling on top of me. I had no idea what had just happened to me. Had I just been on the receiving end of a ‘body slam’? And at an age when the idea of being beaten by a girl was a mark of unimaginable shame?

Giggling to herself, Tanya lingered on top of me for a moment before sliding off to take a seat on the mats next to me, dragging my stunned body into what would be a debilitatingly painful set of bodyscissors. As soon as her thighs wrapped around my mid-section, they clamped down with a power I still cannot find the words to describe. Some have compared a strong scissor hold to being crushed by an anaconda, but this was like being trapped in the embrace of two rapidly expanding steel girders or tree trunks. Just when I thought she was exerting all her power to squeeze me into submission, she would find some new reserve of strength to tap. As those thighs became tighter and tighter, Tanya crossed her ankles and wrapped an arm around my neck in what could easily become a choke hold, denying me any avenue of escape.

I groaned in frustration and pain as I reached for Tanya’s ankles, desperately hoping to pry them apart and earn myself some breathing room. But those ankles remained just out of reach – as soon as my hand came close enough to brush one of Tanya’s heels, she would pour on the pressure anew and flex the forearm in which my throat now rested. Through the immense power of her thighs, Tanya could control me as readily as she controlled any of her horses. That fact frustrated me to no end.

“I think she’s got you, bro,” one of my friends remarked from the sidelines sympathetically.

I shook my head in defiance. No way. There was just no way I was going to lose a fall to this girl, especially not like this. I dug deep and tried to gather the strength to push down on her knees. That would mean reaching back and fumbling for the right purchase, but at least that would be more manageable than trying to employ my abdominals even as Tanya turned them into jelly.

After a few agonizing moments, I found her knees and pushed with all I had left. No dice. Those legs were rock hard, as though I had been encased in steel-reinforced concrete. Even if I had another 30lbs of muscle on my frame, I still would never be able to break free of this scissor hold.

“Go on, babe. Don’t be shy,” Tanya taunted, showing off now that my friend had drawn attention to my precarious situation. “There’s no shame in tapping out, not when I’ve got you like this.”

Dejected, I realized she was right. I could stubbornly fight on, squirming impotently against those unbeatable thighs, but that would mean expending my energy on a fall I could not possibly win. Conceding defeat in this battle would leave me in a better position to win the war, conserving energy for falls I could most definitely win now that I knew how Tanya fought. Still, I think my face turned a deeper shade of red from the embarrassment and humiliation as I limply slapped out my submission against one of Tanya’s legs.

Tanya: 1 Paul: 0

[jtktl8387]

Nice!

Hell yeah, nice to see another story from ya.

No shame in losing to a lovely lady like Tanya.