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  #31  
Old 02-Mar-18, 16:14
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

CHAPTER 10 - Don’t Call It a Comeback



As Big Red and Little Nasty casually sauntered across the ring with a decimated Naomi bound to corner — and well in the rear view mirror as far as the Sessionettes were concerned — they both bore the confident posture of imminent victors. Little Nasty decided to let her hair down as she slowly stalked towards me, with her raven mane softening her features noticeably as it loosely framed her face. Big Red decided to get a lot more comfortable as well, peeling of her sweaty bodysuit and boots to minimize her fighting garb to what may have been the skimpiest G-String ever. In fact, the biggest thing about her G-String was probably the letter G in the description, because beyond that, Big Red’s garment was basically a construct of floss that allowed her ultra fit body to shimmer seductively with a moist glaze of dewy perspiration.

These woman wore little else beyond certainty.

“I don’t like your chances”, cooed the suddenly much more attractive Little Nasty as she cocked her eyebrow with condescension, “Did you want to start begging for mercy now or do you want to try and be a tough guy? No offence, but your partner is a way better wrestler and you can see what did to her.”

Agnes, the Queen of Mean nodded back with her head in the direction of Naomi who remained largely out of it in the opposing corner.

“I really hope he wants to try and be a man about it”, Morag the Nubile and Newly Quasi Nudist replied, “I love to crush the dreams of little boys just like they are grapes between my toes.”

Big Red was obviously a budding winemaker, but one with a relatively good point.

In so far, I had been much the inferior opponent compared to Naomi, who had almost singlehandedly devastated the Sessionettes on her own. However — as dominant as she had been — Naomi fell victim to the age old story of competition; that overconfidence can sometimes get the best of you in very definitive and humiliating ways. To that end, I needed to hope that I could turn the tables on the Sessionettes — given how pleased with themselves they seemed to be at the moment — and then find some way to free Naomi in the far reaching hopes that she might still have something left in the tank after absorbing a terrible beating. I have to admit, the idea of Naomi being all trussed up in the opposite corner did make me a little horny. What could I say? I’m a guy and she has always been gorgeous no matter what state she was in, but especially those that featured a lot of skin.


Obviously feeling that the time for intimidation was over, Agnes and Morag charged me and mutually drove me back against the ring ropes. Big Red used the heel of her hand to push brutishly up against my chin — thereby bending me over the top rope — while she held my right arm in place over the top rope with her free left arm and her torso. Little Nasty similarly immobilized my left arm while sending her left hand in for an angry, full grope of my “package” while getting in my face for some nose-to-nose power taunting.

“So...what’s it going to be, stud”, Agnes asked me, in her best Olivia Neutron Bomb impersonation from the movie Grease, “Do you want this to go easy or hard?”

I had to admit, it was already kind of going hard. Half naked women and junk grabbing tended to have that effect on a fella.

“Well”, I began, “Can you explain the nuances of the two options to me in a little more detail?”

Little Nasty bit her lip seductively — but with a cruel twist — and then squeezed Jim and the Twins with a whole lot of coordinated twisting, causing me to wince. She was loving this WAY too much.

“Sure”, Agnes began, “I can do that for you. Let’s just get you over into my office.”

With that, Little Nasty and Big Red doubled down on a mammoth, double hip toss that saw me sailing through the air — yet again without the benefit of frequent flyer points — only to land with a skidding thud halfway across the ring. The momentum of the toss allowed me to get partially up to my knees with something that almost resembled speed, although as I raised my head to survey the ring, I was met by the flying crotch of Agnes the Angry midget in its full glory. Little Nasty snared me in a Figure Four Leglock and used her momentum to throw me down onto my back where she happily sat mounted on my helpless form while she made a point of staring into my eyes with frigid intent. Yup, she was digging “The Herm” with a BIG shovel.

Not to be left out of the medals, Big Red snatched up both of my ankles and placed her newly bare foot squarely on my wide open ballsack, while applying just enough pressure to let me know that she meant serious business.

“So...where were we?” Little Nasty wondered as I watched her through my cone of vision that was somewhat limited by her heavily engaged thighs.

“From what I remember, we were over there”, I noted — again, statistically accurate, but likely not in a way to guarantee a decent end result given my opponents’ somewhat advantageous, offensive position and prickly natures — while indicating our previous location with my eyes and a matter of fact raising of my eyebrows in the general direction of the ring ropes.

Little Nasty smiled with somewhat amused disbelief. Big Red stomped on my balls in a way that did not feel super wonderful if I am being honest.

“Always the wiseass, huh?”, Agnes said with incredulity, “You must love the thought of singing soprano.”

Morag took that as a cue to drop another stomp on my terrifically sensitized — by that point — gonads. She really wasn’t doing much to build a bridge from what I was feeling, however she did look really good when mostly naked, although this really didn’t seem like the time to follow along with that train of thought or to make any offers about going the best two out of three in the sport of “Olympic Monkey Love”.

“I don’t do a lot of singing”, I revealed to Agnes with a real commitment to full disclosure, “But when I do, I always try to do it ‘My Way’.”

Needless to say, I took another couple of shots to my significantly compromised nutsack, with an absolute sensation of having possibly almost regurgitated one of my testicles. Agnes, as well, seemed to ramp up the pressure on her Triangle Lock to somewhere just south of “Totally Fucking Debilitating for Human Life”. She seemed somewhat dismayed by my reply.

“You realize that as of right now, you are fucked — right?!”, she asked with a sense of wonder at my seeming inability to recognize the hopelessness of my situation. “All you are doing right now is adding time on to how long Morag and I are going to toss you around and hurt you, before we really decide to — you know — HURT YOU.”

With that, ol’ Agnes gave a few pain inducing pumps of her thighs that made me feel like actual cracks might be forming in my skull while Big Red did a little pedal pushing down under that made me a whole lot more weary and bitter than rush hour traffic on the 401 Eastbound ever could.

“You still seem a bit too energetic”, Little Nasty opined, “I think I will like you better when you are tuckered out a bit more.”

Agnes gave another couple of strong squeezes to my skull, creating compressive waves of agony in my noggin. She then released the hold and then planted her hands and then pushed her way up into a handstand so that should could walk a couple of feet away on her hands and then backbend over to a standing position.

I made note that she was a bit of a bendy freak for future reference. If pro wrestling didn’t work out, she could probably find gainful employment in a circus somewhere as a midget acrobat or something.

While Agnes righted herself, Morag gave me a crippling power shot into to my besieged manhood, using the opening that she created to spin me over into a painful Boston Crab hold. Little Nasty traversed the space between us and stopped short of my head, offering her supremely adorable right foot in front of my face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to give up”, Agnes questioned, “All you have to do is maybe beg me for mercy and kiss my foot a little. Oh...who am I kidding? You’d have to kiss it a whole lot and probably clean both my feet and Morag’s feet to a spit polish with your tongue before we’d let you graduate to the ‘True Suffering’ part of our program — but then it would only just be a little bit of quality time with you and a few activities that would probably ruin your usefulness to any REAL woman for maybe an hour or two and then we’d be on our way — but probably with your balls in one of our purses. I mean — seriously — that’s a pretty good offer with all things considered.”

She seemed really happy with herself.

“Let’s see what you got”, I replied defiantly.

“Oh you stupid, stupid man”, Little Nasty chided as she stepped across my upper back, “We get paid to hurt people for a living. We are going to fuck...you....UP.”

They were like a vicious, pro wrestling version of Hanz and Franz. Classic.

Little Nasty pulled me up by my arms, depositing them across the tops of her knees as she bent down into a squat that utilized her rock hard, bubble butt to exert additional downward force on my spine. Once done, she trapped my upper arms behind her elbows and then snaked both index and middle fingers into my mouth, fish-hooking me maliciously. From there she pulled me even deeper into her clutches while Big Red torqued the Boston Crab with merciless determination. I was being turned into a human wishbone and I was near the breaking point.

As I screamed in agony, I could hear Agnes chuckling. She was a true sadist. You could tell that she loved this sort of thing, watching others suffer, while implicitly bearing witness to the fruits of her wicked labours. This was Agnes the Angry Midget’s art; her true element.

“How’s that feeling for you, asshole?”, she gurgled like a happy, trickling stream, “Are you sure that you wouldn’t rather be at my feet, begging me for some serious mercy? Y’know the longer you make me work for your submission, the longer the penalty phase will be. Save yourself some suffering, asshole.”

In a moment of pure focus, I reared up valiantly and shot back, “fshhfFuthkspth ruhughth brhivavithsha!”

Talking while having your mouth fish-hooked was a real pain in the ass.

“That didn’t sound like ‘mercy’”, Agnes replied sarcastically, while pulling back even harder on my beleaguered jowls, “That’s okay though, I really like feeling you quiver and shake with pain. I can do this until you pass out. I have a great way to wake you up after. The magic words to end your suffering will be, ‘Mercy, Goddess’.”

“Sschfuthecthsch ruuuughusshthh, barhithsischt”, I warbled, still not making any real progress on Shakespearean quality intonation or annunciation. Goddamn, fish-hooking bitch. I was going to do my damnedest to find a way to hate-fuck Agnes into oblivion at some point, if it was the last thing that I ever did. Goddamn cocky, sadist mothercunt.

The hold continued for what seemed like an eternity. Ideally, I should have just bowed out with grace and granted the Sessionettes their victory based on their general proficiency and expertise. However, I was never one to just give it away and so I figured I would “think happy thoughts” and do my level best to hold out for as long as I could. If nothing else, at some point the effort to try and snap me in half had to become almost as excruciating / frustrating as was playing the role of the “snappee”. But give them credit, the Sessionettes had me completely at their mercy and in a lot of serious pain.


“Fuck!!”, exclaimed a seriously miffed Agnes after several more minutes. Holding a squatted position was no easy matter for extended durations, even for someone as fit as she was.

“This isn’t working, Morag”, Little Nasty continued, “This fool obviously doesn’t have any nerve endings or is jerking himself off because he is totally in to doing this!”

Even I didn’t have those kinds of Jedi Knight, telekinetic abilities. If I did, I’m sure that there wouldn’t ever be enough time in the day.

Dearly frustrated, Little Nasty shoved me down to the ground face first with ignominy as Big Red let both of my legs fall, almost limp, to the mat. I’m not going to lie — that part felt alright. A little less wonderful were the matching pair of soccer style kicks that both “ladies” landed in unison into my unprotected side / stomach as an expression of their displeasure with me. Still, I took their angry resignation as a win. Suck that, bitches.

“Let’s ramp up the impact a little again”, Agnes, the Wrathful Hobbit opined, “Let’s make him wish he was never born.”

“What? Are you going to tell me stories about your childhood and how Cousin Bobby once tricked you into a game of ‘Park the Porpoise’ while you were rasslin’ around at age 13, as a celebration of his sheer giddiness at discovering the female form, while trying to shove his dick up your ass?”, I groaned, really in an universally poor display of timing and inflammatory vitriol.

“I was 14, you ASSHOLE, and he wasn’t my cousin”, Agnes screamed while dropping down to my level and picking my head up by my hair and then letting my head fall back to the ground as she exclaimed, “Fuck!! Why am I even engaging this asshole?”

“Because me being a stranger makes you feel comfortable to put aside all your inhibitions?” I responded with heavy fatigue, obviously not getting the memo about exercising common sense.

Morag drifted me another boot to the ribs as Agnes picked me up by the hair again, “ARE YOU FUCKING SUICIDAL?!!”

“No”, I replied wearily, “but I do think we are really gaining some traction here in dealing with your very obvious issues related to your Cousin Bobby not calling you after giving you a ride on the skin bus to Tuna Town while you thought he was teaching you a new Greco Roman wrestling hold....”

Agnes crudely interrupted me with a right cross to the jaw. She could throw a punch like a trooper. I really wanted to play Cousin Bobby in the re-enactment of her deepest, darkest, emerging, pubescent trauma. I had to admit, I might need a Gatorade or something before I could pull off that role convincingly.

“FUCKING ASSHOLE!!”, Agnes shrieked to the heavens as Morag drilled me again with her right foot. The good news was that Big Red’s cheap shots on my aching ribs were beginning to make my almost dislocated back feel a lot better. Agnes angrily walked over to Naomi and grabbed a handful of her hair so that she could follow with a snapping slap across her jaw. Naomi took the shot and slumped in the corner, still largely out of it.

From my grounded vantage point, I watched Little Nasty’s stunningly succulent feet as she began walking back to me, then suddenly picking up speed until she tensed up through her feet and very definitely went airborne. I counted in steamboats waiting for the impact and it came at about two and a half, as Agnes drilled me in the head with another Somersaulting Double Leg Drop, mushing my face with malice into the mat. While sitting, she rolled me over with her feet onto my back. I’m sure that I wasn’t looking ready for Class Pictures Day.

“This one is a freak”, Agnes the Frustrated Garden Gnome decided, “Let’s switch them up and work over his girlfriend. She’s done anyway and a win is a win no matter who submits in the end.”

“Pick him up and let’s handcuff him to that corner over there” Agnes continued, “Let’s get her to quit fast, because I don’t want to be here all night.”

See? Sometimes you win by losing.


To be continued...
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  #32  
Old 02-Mar-18, 19:39
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Damn, I had almost forgotten about the sessionettes. I clicked this link so quickly when I saw it, Herman. Thank you so much for continuing it. Things don't look so good for our heroes right now, but you are very good at dynamic back and forth action, so I can't wait to see what happens next.
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  #33  
Old 02-Mar-18, 20:26
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Well my man...just figured that I should finish this one off...
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  #34  
Old 15-Mar-18, 23:57
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

CHAPTER 11 - Girls Ain’t Nothing But (in) Trouble



To be honest, it wasn’t my first time in handcuffs...

Not that I had a criminal record or a long forgotten history as a young offender, but I took it as a point of pride that, over the years, I had generally attracted an adventurous breed of playmates, some of whom seemed to enjoy taking things into their hands by making sure that I couldn’t reciprocate by taking very much at all into mine. As much as I wanted to consider this one of those times, a cracking backhand from Little Nasty helped spell out the situation in very defined terms; Naomi and I were well on our way to being completely screwed — both figuratively and literally — by Big Red and Little Nasty, a couple of Sessionettes who had completely turned the tables on our fun “Friday Night at the Fights” — that Naomi had organized as a bonding opportunity, but seemed to have morphed into a full BONDAGE opportunity for the both of us — although in respectively different corners of Naomi’s new, pro style wresting ring. What I would have given at that moment to get my hands on that little midget, Agnes. She was really becoming just such a bother.

“Just stay right there, asshole”, Agnes the Angry Elf began, “Once we get princess over there sorted, I’m going to be back for you. Your snookums must’ve thought you guys were good enough wrestlers to actually beat Morag and me, but I can’t wait to see the look on her face after we finish her off. One of her conditions was that the winners of this little match would earn a ‘Humiliation Round’ as their reward for winning. Get ready, I can’t wait for what I have in store for you — ASSHOLE — and your ASSHOLE.”

I had to admit that while the feeling was mutual contemptible, her body was making me visualize all the sweet torments that I wanted to inflict on every part of Agnes, including her cement laden breasts and her tight little ass. The way it bounced made me wistfully happy, even as she was on her way to lay the smack down on my Amazonian girlfriend with the flawless, caramel skin and her adorning, golden locks.

Over across the ring, Big Red was softening Naomi up with some thumping knee strikes into her already well tormented stomach. From what I saw, it looked as though — if not for the handcuffs holding her in place — Naomi would’ve been laid out and helpless on the mat. She seemed to be literally out on her feet.

Agnes moved towards Naomi and Big Red holding the handcuff keys. It dawned on me that the locks must be a matching set, because as she arrived in the opposing corner, she looked intent to use the very same set to open Naomi’s cuffs as she had used to lock me up across the way.

“Okay, now make sure you’re ready for this one in case she tries any fast moves once I unlock her, Morag”, the Hobbit Queen of Hatefullness instructed, “Let’s just work fast, get the win and then have our fun with these two.”

Big Red nodded obediently, obviously Agnes wore the pants, even if she was buying them in the Kids’ section of whichever of the new WalMart stores she frequented. As she did, Big Red put a right handed choke hold on Naomi’s long, enticingly elegant throat so she could push her back across the top turnbuckle and forcing her onto her tiptoes while making her bionic boobs look really great as they bulged out across her rib cage as she arched backwards. As Little Nasty unlocked Naomi’s left hand, she grabbed her wrist and then smashed a closed fist into her unshielded ribs. I winced in sympathy for my caramel paramour, that girl had been through a meat grinder in the last few minutes of this match.

Once Agnes was done with Naomi’s left hand, she passed the keys to Morag who unlocked her right hand while similarly taking time to opportunistically drive another knee into Naomi’s unprotected female area. With all the abuse Naomi had taken to the lady bits, I was sure that at least a week or two of “headaches” was likely to follow this match and the ever engaging “Humiliation Round” still to cum. Oh hark, a merry pun in the midst of the fray...

As Morag lightly tossed the keys near the ring post, she and Agnes engaged in another triumphant high five, with both obviously feeling supremely confident in their prospects of what was — surely —soon to follow. Finally liberated from the corner, Naomi sure didn’t seem to have any interest in — or probabilities for — resistance as The Sessionettes moved her into a submissive position across the ropes and then followed with a double Irish Whip across the ring, causing Naomi to forcibly carom off the opposing ring ropes with a trajectory towards where The Sessionettes lingered with malicious intent on hand delivering some added bonus pain. As Naomi rebounded unsteadily into the proximity of the Sessionettes, Agnes and Morag set themselves up to deliver twin clotheslines, charging towards the nearly naked, Golden Goddess, hands entwined. I must admit, I almost wanted to look away — Naomi had absorbed such a pounding — but I couldn’t, as the inevitable moment of collision began to crystallize, I was glad that I didn’t.

With almost no room for error, as The Sessionettes’ clothesline swung forward, Naomi somehow found the bandwidth and reserve to dive down and roll under the sure devastation of their clothesline and roll, only to find her feet and then allow her momentum to carry her into the ring ropes from where she started. As she leaned into the ropes and slingshotted herself back towards them, Morag and Agnes were just coming to terms with their epic whiff and were trying to catch themselves on the ring ropes across the way. Naomi moved with catlike speed and the power of a lioness, launching herself horizontally while executing a picture perfect dropkick into the jaw of Little Nasty that sent her sailing through the ring ropes and into an awkward flight path that carried her outside the ring. To say the lest, Agnes’ landing was no oil painting.

Big Red was stunned by the turn of events and with panicked eyes, she followed her partner’s flight path as she came to a crashing halt outside the ring, expressing her concern with an exclamation of “Agnes...” before turning into a brilliantly timed forearm shiver from Naomi that landed squarely on her jaw and dropped the ginger like a seasoning on a stir fry.

Naomi stood glistening with perspiration, staring down at Big Red while shaking with a primal anger as her opponent tried to reconnect the dots that had become so scrambled from a path of sure victory. I could tell — even without making eye contact — that Naomi was hotter than a plate of ring-of-fire inducing, suicide Szechuan. Morag’s face was drained of colour as she reeled from the blow, but it animated into a mask of pain as Naomi mercilessly pulled Morag’s equally bare form to her feet while using her luscious red hair as her medium for devastation.

“YOU!!”, Naomi raged as viciously punted Morag in the privates while maintaining her grip on her sunset mane, producing both a rich, thumping smack as her well manicured foot connected with Morag’s femininity and a pained yelp from her venti-sized victim.

“YOU!!”, she shrieked as she jerked her back to fully standing, just so she could drive a debilitating fist right into Big Red’s liver while eliciting a dispirited moan from Big Red as she doubled over with paralytic agony.

“YOU!!”, Naomi roared furiously as she reached between Morag’s endlessly shapely legs to scoop her up and then demonstratively slam her down into the mat while maintaining her death grip on Big Red’s sorely abused scalp.

I had never seen her so enraged. Naomi was usually the spirit of cocksure composure. Now, she was obviously seeing not just red, but Big Red in a way that was completely dominating. Naomi brought Morag back to her feet using her hair one last time and then scooped her up again for what I thought would be another Body Slam, only quickly reposition her so that she could deliver a thundering Tombstone Piledriver that left Morag completely eradicated from the conscious world, her long, sculpted form obliterated into a state of of convulsive semi-consciousness. Morag twitched in a way that reminded me of some might following an overload of post-coital stimulation. Goddamn, it was impossible for me to not think about sex while surrounded by all these hot blooded, sexy females.

I was in complete disbelief by the mayhem authored by Naomi in such short order and I am sure — had the Sessionettes been at all in any state of true consciousness at that point — I would not have been alone in my sense of shock and awe. Naomi had laid waste to our opponents, but even yet, she wasn’t done. Noticing that Little Nasty was beginning to groan and stir on the floor, Naomi dragged the pliantly inert Big Red by her hair and left arm into the corner opposite to me with. There, after taking time to drop five or six well aggressively located stomps into Morag’s chest and abdomen to crush any thoughts of insurgence, she used one of the sets of keys to unlock the handcuffs from where they hung on the top rope. Naomi dropped to straddle Big Red across her chest and grabbed Morag’s wrists, dominantly pinning them above her head and then scooched her crotch up under Red’s chin while further trapping her arms above her head while using her powerful thighs in a humiliating School Girl Pin. Naomi used one set of handcuffs to bind Big Red’s wrists to the cable that secured the bottom turnbuckle to the ring post, punctuating her opponent’s predicament by grinding her pussy in Big Red’s helpless face. “Bitch, we are so gonna party on your ass”, Naomi assured vindictively.

From there Naomi used the other set of cuffs to secure Big Red’s right ankle to the middle ring rope near the turnbuckle, effectively leaving Morag in a Half-Matchbooked position. As she reviewed her handiwork, Naomi gave Red’s exposed ass a loud clap, leaving a reddened imprint of her hand on Morag’s alabaster skin and while giggling reductively at her plight. “Not even close to being done, bitch”, Naomi informed.

Not wanting to leave it there, Naomi skipped over to where I remained bound to the ropes looking for another set of cuffs. She still looked really pissed, but with a mirthful confidence built in knowing the untold suffering that she wanted to appropriate on The Sessionettes. It made her look fearsomely divine if I am being honest, but as she got close her face lightened as she regarded me.

“Nice work wearing them out, sweets”, Naomi began, “They obviously had no idea idea how tiring beating on you can be. I could’ve told them that, but it’s good that they got first hand experience.”

That she found her smile in the standard mockery of my abilities while freeing me of my bonds made me relieved to know that she was back to being herself.

“Thanks, sweetheart”, I replied, “I do it for the love, especially since you were taking a wee break over there before.”

Her face darkened with mocking sense of drama, “Don’t piss me off, right now honeybunch”, she offered, “The Crippler is about to get at least two workouts tonight, let’s not make it three.”

“Hmmmm...good point”, I replied with a wink.

Having freed me, Naomi hopped off across the ring with one of the handcuffs towards the general direction of Morag — her ass looking so amazingly great as always — but as she did, I saw a weary Agnes attempting to pull herself up to her perky little feet using the ring apron to steady her ascent. Goddamn, her boobs were still about as cuddly looking as a granite countertop, even if — overall — they were kinda growing on me. Poor little midget, she still wanted to play. The least I could do was to help give her a boost back onto the proverbial monkey bars.

I slipped under the bottom ring rope and exercised my magnanimous sense of chivalry by helping Agnes the Mad Midget into the ring using the back of her hair and her booty shorts that I pulled well up into the crack of her well toned ass, promoting a pained groan from her. Agnes’ little body rolled limply into the centre of the ring as Naomi was securing a now fully matchbooked Morag in the corner via a handcuff and the second ring rope on the other side of the turnbuckle. Naomi gave another loud spank to Big Red’s other butt cheek, gleefully leaving her with matching red hand prints on her lily white ass.

“That’s just the foreplay, bitch”, Naomi warned, “That ass is going to get worn out something fierce, baby.”

She really was an awesome specimen of feminine athleticism. Morag was helpless to do little else other than groan with the agonized anticipation of what she could only imagine might follow. You could tell that the chorus of helplessness being voiced by Morag, only helped to boost Naomi’s spirits.


Agnes, bless her heart was still looking to find her feet in the middle of the ring, dutifully making it up to her hands and knees. Little Nasty’s body was a testament to optimized fitness and the more I saw of it in action, the more I wanted to play with it. As such, I decided to once again help Agnes to her feet using her hair and then, reaching between her legs, I snatched her up to position her for a body slam. Agnes, to be sure was in a whole lot of trouble.

“Oh Aggie”, I chided, while fondling her rock hard ass liberally, “Remember all the fun we had in the corner while you were drilling me with all the nut shots? I do too.”

With that, I slammed Little Nasty down across my left knee, sentencing her to some time in a painful Backbreaker. Agnes groaned vociferously, her abs flexing as they rose and fell with each laboured breath. I pressed my left palm into her chin, stretching her out even further across my knee, intensifying her suffering condition.

“Oh what have we here?”, Naomi asked in a sing-song voice, bending at the waist to look Agnes in the eye, “You look like you are trying to stretch and lengthen your widdle muscles, midget. Maybe I’ll help you.”

Naomi spun on her toes and then sat her sensational ass down on Little Nasty’s straining belly. Tossing her golden mane back, she crossed her right leg over her left and then placed her left hand on Agnes’s exposed left breast while sending her right hand under the cover of her booty shorts so that she could digitally probe her vagina. As she began fingering her opponent down low, Naomi began playing with Little Nasty’s perky nipple, flicking it suggestively. The combination of the Backbreaker and Naomi’s full weight resting on Little Nasty’s spent abdominals had to be excruciating. Agnes moaned ruefully as Naomi willfully ground her glutes into Little Nasty’s stomach to optimize her suffering.

“Well, it’s 1-1 right now, Agnes”, Naomi began, “I going to tell you, Big Red over there is looking all trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. All we really need to do is stuff her — and trust me I have a HELL of a stuffing planned — and then she is good to go. So all that’s left is — really — what to do with you.”

Agnes groaned. I wasn’t sure if it was an expression of pain or pleasure or both. Naomi pinched her nipple promoting a pained squeal from the brutally compromised, hardbody midget.

“Fucking bitch”, Agnes groaned, “You sure talk tough when it’s two against one.”

Naomi reared her head back and laughed heartily at Agnes’ retort and then punished her with a heavy butt bounce on her beleaguered six pack followed by another hurtful tweak of her nipple. Naomi was LOVING this.

“You’ve been a bit of a troublemaker this evening”, Naomi continued, “What do you think is a fitting punishment for being such a pint sized pain in the ass?”

Agnes, possibly taking another page from my book on “Bad Times to Be Mouthy” groaned back with an indignant, “Fuck you, Blondie...”, never really finishing once Naomi again bounced her rock hard bottom on Little Nasty’s severely susceptible stomach with a lot of implied malice. As Little Nasty’s feet came off the ground reflexively, Naomi fully inserted what looked to be three fingers in her vagina quite forcibly to establish her control. She was expertly fingering Agnes with a vengeance.

“I am going to enjoy watching you suck my man’s cock, Agnes”, Naomi determined, “But first I want to hear you say that you submit. How long do you want me to hurt you, Agnes? Don’t you understand that I LOVE IT when I get to watch you suffer?”

Naomi punctuated with another rough butt bounce on Agnes’s torso. She was REALLY LOVING this moment.

Naomi ground her ass into Agnes’s stomach one last time and then popped to her feet while releasing her hand from beneath Agnes’ booty shorts and her grip on her besieged nipple. Naomi pirouetted on her tiptoes through a quarter turn and then grabbed a full helping of Agnes’ dark hair in her left hand while condescendingly and very deliberately wiping off her right hand — that was moist with a whole lot of Agnes — across her minute adversary’s face

“Oh midget”, Naomi deadpanned, “I’m going to send you back to Fantasy Island REALLY broken.”

Naomi punctuated her statement by dropping a heavy knee into Agnes’s midsection and then roughly depositing her quite unceremoniously onto the mat by brusquely pulling Little Nasty out of the Backbreaker hold. Agnes curled meekly into the fetal position, her spirit sapped almost as much as her body to a point of exhaustion. Naomi regarded her pint sized agitator with disdain.

“Hermie, let’s have us some fun.”


To be continued....

Last edited by HermanDG; 16-Mar-18 at 00:27.
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Old 16-Mar-18, 04:59
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

I really love to watch Naomi in action. When she gets going she's a fucking force of nature. Thanks for continuing this one, Hermie. I enjoy your writing style very much.
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Old 16-Mar-18, 14:35
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Thanks for your support, my man. Like I said previously, just want to finish this one — mostly for folks like yourself who have been supportive of my work...
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Herman, your sense of humor is priceless.
I feel like a gold miner sifting through your paragraphs, in every one finding a nugget of a sentence that makes me laugh.
Great stuff.
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Old 16-Mar-18, 22:05
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Quote:
Originally Posted by boyandy [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
Herman, your sense of humor is priceless.
I feel like a gold miner sifting through your paragraphs, in every one finding a nugget of a sentence that makes me laugh.
Great stuff.
Thanks, my man. I really appreciate it...
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Old 14-Aug-18, 20:39
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

CHAPTER 12 - Paid In Full



Naomi stood over the prone figure of Agnes the Angry Dwarf and was like a shark smelling blood in the water.

“I want to hear this one say ‘I quit’, babes”, she said as she rolled Little Nasty onto her back with little effort using her right foot and then smushing it into Agnes’s cheek for effect.

“That sounds like fun”, I replied, drinking in the scene before me, with Naomi looking ascendant, Little Nasty looking spent beneath her and Big Red trussed up in the corner like a nerd at a frat party. Moving with a slow, sultry grace, Naomi lowered herself until she straddled Little Nasty just beneath her bosom and then grabbed both of Agnes’ wrists, slamming them above her head in a dominant pin hold. Looking directly into Agnes’ eyes, Naomi growled, “Now your little bubble butt is mine, midget”, while snaking her legs around her opponent’s, into a painfully effective grapevine. Due to the difference in size between Naomi and Agnes, Naomi’s grapevine seemed to split Little Nasty’s legs apart to almost a wishbone like breaking point. As she did, Naomi’s ass rounded to life with vigour while accompanied by the pained groans of Agnes. God, I loved Naomi’s bum, but I had to admit that the thought of taking sexual liberties with Agnes in a penalty round REALLY intrigued me. She had appealing strength and stamina and that little midget body was growing on me for sure.

“I’ll be damned before I submit to you, Blondie...”, Agnes began before being cut short by a formidable pelvic thrust from Naomi.

“That’s enough out of you, Frodo!”, Naomi hushed, “I don’t think you’ll be ‘damned’, but you damn sure are going to be fucked once I make you quit like the little bitch you are”, she continued on with glee. Naomi really was a girl who loved kicking ass and the spoils of victory more than anyone I’d ever met, especially if that meant exploiting her victims sexually. I knew this for certain, having happily been exploited in that same vein on more than one occasion. Taking her offensive to the next level, Naomi unlocked her grapevine and scoochied herself up so that her pubic mound was right up under Little Nasty’s chin while pinning her arms between her thighs. Naomi leaned back to take in the sight of her opponent, resting her hands on Agnes’ stone masonry boobs and groping them liberally. With a devilish grin, Naomi remarked, “I hope you like cats, bitch, because you are going to be seeing a lot of my pussy for the next little bit”, grinding her crotch into the mouth and chin of Agnes as she giggled.

Agnes’s legs thrashed with rebellion as Naomi ground down. Feeling left out, I moved in and removed Agnes’ booty shorts with a quick tug, prompting a shriek of indignity that was fairly muffled by Naomi’s muff. On the subject, Little Nasty’s clam was shaved smooth as a pearl, which did nothing but heighten my interest in having her as my plaything. Remembering the “good times” of Agnes and Morag’s double teaming of me earlier on, I figured that, since Morag was still trussed up in the corner, it was time for some two on one action on our helpless, little friend.

I began by scissoring Agnes’ left leg just above the knee and then pinned her right leg under my full weight, leaving her vulnerable pussy wide open for the taking. I then started fingering Little Nasty with a vengeance. Agnes was trying to squirm, but with her upper body being immobilized by Naomi and with her lower body rendered equally inert by my hold on her legs, all resistance was futile. Agnes moistened immediately — I kinda pegged her for a freaky chick anyways — so I was sure that this type of scenario was well within her personal realm of “Personal Nightmare / Oh Yes, Mama Yes Nirvana”. Within seconds, Naomi and I were proving that the way you make a hormone is by pinning her down and finger banging her. Who knew that science could be so simple? By this point, I knew what it was like to feel Agnes’ body straining against me while in a competitive state, but I have to admit that the added carnal nature and desperation of her movements as she strained to stave off orgasm only heightened the wonder of experiencing her physical body. With the way that I could feel the tremors building in Little Nasty’s body, it wasn’t long until she released a geyser of pussy juice all over our nice, clean, new wrestling mat. I punished her in kind by continuing to torment her vagina through all the ensuing orgasmic after shocks. Listening to her plead for me to stop made it all so worthwhile. Moans can be such melody to the ears. By the time I was done with her, I could tell that Little Nasty’s legs were rendered to a state not unlike Jello.

“Looks like part of you has thrown in the towel, Aggie” Naomi taunted with a merciless grin on her beautiful face, “Now I want to hear YOU quit.”

Naomi lifted herself up from Agnes’ spent form and used a liberal handful of her opponent’s hair to bring her up to her dainty feet, even with her strong legs reduced to quivering stems that could barely support her full weight. In one terrifying swift motion, Naomi scooped Agnes up and body slammed her dead centre in the puddle of her own spooge, making a wet, splashy thud as she did. Naomi stomped on Little Nasty’s stomach, causing her to curl up into a ball, drawing her hands and knees up into her abdomen. As she did, Naomi grabbed Agnes’ ankles and then in the blink of an eye, twisted her diminutive foe into a deep Sharpshooter, leaving Agnes’ chest marinating in her own cum juices. Naomi had Agnes bent into a small “C” shape of screaming agony while her caramel tormentor laughed. Naomi knew this was all she wrote and as Agnes hollered her submission, Naomi’s smile grew as broad as I had ever seen it.

“What’s that, you give, precious?” Naomi confirmed sardonically.

Naomi continued to drive her hips down into the Sharpshooter hold, ever ratcheting up the torque being applied to Little Nasty’s lower back and legs. As she did, she arched backward propelling her glorious Bionic Boobs upwards as her golden curls cascaded down her back. Every muscle on Naomi’s body worked towards the end goal of ensuring maximum agony for her trapped opponent, but especially her legs and glutes hummed with power, jumping to life with full muscle bellies and craters of definition. Her smile beamed and her body glistened with dewy perspiration. This was the most extreme expression of Naomi’s competitive spirit, feeling the impending victory and feasting on that natural adrenaline fueled high.

Little Nasty was well beyond the point of no return. Her body was exempt from providing any credible defence or contest. So as she was drawn ever deeper into the Sharpshooter, her stalagmite boobs crushed into the mat and her back looked like it was ready to snap like a twig. Her tiny hands and feet twisted and contorted in agony, but with an painfully ironic beauty when considering the chaotic tableau that presented itself before me. Agnes’ face became a tear stained mask of bitter suffering as she gritted her teeth in the throes of torment and veins popped with exertion like fissures throughout her body, making her look like a Greek statue that was set to crumble into ruin.

“Yes....I give...please...let me go...I give...”, Agnes whimpered, fully broken.

“Whose pussy are you?” Naomi chided the truly vanquished midget.

“Your pussy...I’m...YOUR...pussy...”, Agnes gasped, desperate to find release.

“And what am I gonna do with MY little pussy?” Naomi queried.

“ANYTHING..!...Anything you want...I’m your little slut...just...PLEASE...let me go...”

Naomi dropped Agnes’s deadened legs and then casually walked back up to where her head lay, again lifting a very broken Little Nasty to her feet using only her hair. Agnes’ exhausted, naked form shook like a leaf and Naomi drew her opponent’s face to her’s using Agnes’ chin so that she could look straight into her tear filled eyes.

“My LITTLE pussy”, Naomi spat imperiously, “Slut, we are going to have us a REALLY good time.”

And with that, Naomi pulled Agnes’s head under her armpit and DDT’d her into the puddle of her own goo, leaving her writhing in quasi-conscious spasm in the middle of the ring. Nap time had come for Agnes the Angry Dwarf.

“Time to make the other one squeal, Herm.” Naomi droned without emotion, while nodding in the direction of Big Red.

Big Red had the best seat in the house to all the previously occurring carnage, albeit with a slightly obstructed view. With futility, she had continued with struggling to free herself throughout, but time was now up as Naomi neared her location in the corner of the ring.

“Keeping busy, huh, Big Red?” Naomi noted as she closed the distance.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Big Red retorted, probably not with the best timing given her very compromised situation.

“Spunk! I like that”, Naomi replied while stomping her right foot down in the middle Morag’s stretched out right hamstring, provoking a wail from the Auburn Amazon, “but its gonna get you in trouble, baby”, which Naomi punctuated with a matching stomp to Morag’s left hammy for sake of symmetry.

Naomi unlocked the handcuff holding Morag’s ankles to the ring ropes, granting her a reprieve from being matchbooked, but earning her what seemed like a life sentence of smashing fists into her very available belly, making her abs seemingly glow red from the beating. From there, Naomi released Morag’s wrists, but followed with a series of forehand and backhanded bitch slaps to the felled giantess’s face. Not breaking with a good thing, Naomi pulled Morag to her feet via a couple of handfuls of hair and then Irish whipped her towards me. As Morag hurtled towards me, I blasted a knee into her core, causing her to somersault in the air until crashing painfully to the mat on her back.

Not wanting to give Big Red any time to recover, I picked her up and swiftly trapped her in a Full Nelson, applying prodigious downward pressure on the back of her head to hold her in check. Naomi detonated a series of knee smashes and fists into Big Red’s body, leaving her almost limp in my grasp and ready for the taking.

“Do that thing”, Naomi instructed, “that fucking hold you sometime get me in. Do it!”

Some time ago, while Naomi and I were doing a little pre-coital rasslin in bed, I surprised her and rocked her world by throwing her into a hold that completely fucked her up. In the time since, I had been able to apply it a few more times, with every application providing the same result — complete helplessness and a fully compromised posture. It was a brutal hold in straight up competition, but in any type of match with a sexual element, it was completely devastating and inescapable.

The Spladle Hold.

In a flash, I transitioned Big Red from a painful Full Nelson into a textbook, soul crushing Spladle Hold. I could tell by her reaction that she had never been subjected to a Spladle and her mind was incapable of dealing with all the inputs flying in as a result at what seemed like the speed of light. In basic definition, The Spladle matchbooks a victim in a very painful manner. As I rolled her into the hold Morag’s left arm was made completely useless while being pinned under her left leg which was steadfastly held motionless via a leg scissor positioned just above her knee. Her right arm was similarly immobilized by her right leg that was trapped just above the knee beneath my torso at the crook of my armpit. I was positioned behind Morag’s head which was propped up on my chest, just so she could have a front row centre view of her completely exposed vagina that had Naomi salivating to see it devastated. With my left hand free to do as it pleased, it roamed all over Morag’s tits, belly and under her G-String to her achingly vulnerable pussy. About the only parts of Morag that could move even slightly were her feet and they flexed and crinkled ineffectively, adding to her hopelessness. The girl was completely screwed and about to be even more so and literally screwed.

“That hold is a fucking bitch”, Naomi chided, speaking from personal experience, “and now its going to get even better — at least for Hermie and me.” Naomi grabbed the front of Morag’s G-String and with a furious tug, ripped that very loosely defined garment right off her body, tossing it aside like the rag it now was.

“Let’s air that out a little bit before we get on to the next part”, Naomi joked, “I’m already looking forward to seeing how this goes.”

Morag agonized, screaming a parade of expletives, her body unable to generate any momentum to help free her from her fully splayed out state. She shook with anger and frustration, just like Naomi would, in this hold that was to sexual compromise what the nuke was to world peace. As her helplessness became more cemented in her mind, tears began flowing down her face and her screams became guttural and animalistic. I have to admit, I loved it. Here was a super fit, giant sized bundle of woman completely immobilized in a hold that I could tell was making her head explode, especially given the context of our match. You could tell that she had a full realization of what was likely to come, along with her absolute inability to prevent any outcome other than utter defeat from occurring. Every muscle strained in her body and she couldn’t budge even an inch. It was beautiful.

Naomi gave Big Red some time to process, watching her with arms crossed and a cruel smile across her beautiful face before moving towards her end game. Naomi strutted over to where Agnes lay with a sassy bounce to her step that was exaggerated by her walking on her tiptoes as though she was wearing 6-inch stiletto heels. Using a handful of hair and Little Nasty’s left arm, Naomi dragged her still limp form over to where I held Morag fully spadled and fraught with anxiety. With a couple of crisp slaps to her cheek, Naomi brought Little Nasty back to a state of worldliness and then rolled her onto her stomach and then positioned her face down in Big Red’s wide open-for-business pussy. From there, Naomi crossed Agnes’ ankles, holding them in place by straddling them with her crotch and then grabbing her wrists. Naomi then laid back and placed her feet between Little Nasty’s shoulder blades, stretching out her arms while painfully forcing her face even further into her tag partner’s fish strudel.

“Bitch, lick that pussy like you mean it”, Naomi commanded, prompting Agnes with a strong push from the balls of her high arched feet.

Little Nasty face was weary with from all that she had endured, but undeterred, she ate Big Red out like a champion, her small, pink tongue darting in and out while her lips moved with expert precision. In hold, Morag began to quiver even more profusely under her partner’s oral abilities while I teased and tormented her nipples and ample breasts with my free hand. As Morag began to shake and churn like a blender at the end of a full day of making Daquiri’s, I squeezed her left nipple as she unleashed a torrent of orgasmic spew all over Little Nasty’s mug, while screaming her inarticulate release to the universe. Naomi kept prodding Agnes to continue with her oral assault until every last ounce of orgasmic rapture was driven from Morag’s elongated body and her head slumped back against my torso, senseless with submissive elation and in a fog of bliss.

Having conquered her opposition, Naomi rose from the mat and brought Agnes the Angry Dwarf to her feet one last time so that she could fling her into the ropes and then demolish her with a final Clothesline that spun Agnes through the air until she crashed into a debilitated heap across the mat. Moving back to Morag, Naomi straddled her using a full split while I was still holding her in the Spladle — putting her full weight on the hamstrings, thereby deepening the painful compression of the Spladle on the fully vanquished ginger. Then, grabbing a robust handful of her red hair, Naomi began administering humiliating slaps to Morag’s cheeks.

“Who’s the champ, Ginger?” Naomi asked scornfully.

“You...are...”, a debased and physically worn Morag deferred in disgrace.

“Tell me that you submit. Beg for the privilege to lick the soles of my feet, you cow”, Naomi commanded, scornfully slapping the long stemmed redhead yet again.

“Please...Goddess...accept my submission. I beg you...let me worship your body from head to foot”, Morag pleaded in humiliated defeat.

Naomi replied with another echoing slap. “Say that you quit and you are my personal plaything”, Naomi said in her most dominating tone.

“I submit...Mistress...my body is yours...to do with as you wish. Please...Goddess...release me”, Big Red sobbed, her sexy chest heaving and covered in sweat.

Naomi pushed herself up to her feet using Big Red’s succulent tits as her platform. From there she bent down and held Morag’s face in her right hand while telling at the most intimate range, “This is just the start of your night, you little bitch slave.”

While chilling, man did hearing that ever give me a boner.

“Let her go, Hermie and let’s drag these two sorry asses into the shower. I want them nice and clean before we get REALLY DIRTY.”

Morag plunged to the mat as a disgraced loser as I finally released her from the Spladle and with that, the rest of another fun night at the condo was off to a great start...



EPILOGUE


With the penalty round of our little match running into a morning that found Little Nasty hand washing Naomi’s Olympic calibre bod in conjunction to me hammering the little midget’s pussy from behind and laying waste to her rock hard tits, we decided to invite the Sessionettes to stay for a bit of breakfast to get them started on the right path. It is — after all — the most important meal of the day. I had to admit that they both took everything that Naomi and I could throw at them like champions throughout the previous evening. Those girls were definitely not shy. The meal was a generally quiet, but cordial affair and soon we found ourselves at the door saying our “hasta la vistas” for the time being. Naomi had taken a special fondness for Big Red and they engaged in a drawn out battle of tongues and swashbuckling hands as they said their goodbyes.

“Don’t forget who owns this ass”, Naomi offered while liberally groping Morag’s hindquarters.

“For now, but I’ll be back and next time you’ll be singing a different tune when I make you MY little bitch”, Big Red replied, tweaking a hardened nipple through Naomi’s silk kimono.

Away from that action, Little Nasty — who more than lived up to that moniker through the previous night with some acts that defied both physics and description and may have been illegal in several States — was slipping a piece of paper into the pocket of my bathrobe while nibbling on my nipple.

“CALL ME”, she whispered with her husky, yet surprisingly sexy voice while raising her eyebrows to underline her sense of urgency. “I like a man who can take it as hard as he can give it and you’re my kind of fucking freak. If Blondie is in, even better, but either way...”, she punctuated with a shiver inducing flick of her extremely talented tongue. Watching her saunter out the door, I almost wanted to pull her back in for Round 168, but sadly, The Sessionettes were finally on their way. As the door closed, I drank in Naomi in all her morning glory, glowing with the satisfaction of our victory the previous night and our post-fight debauchery. “So...what’s next for an encore?” I questioned.

Pushing me against a wall and her tongue into my mouth, it seemed like Naomi had some ideas.

“Hmmmmm...I think I have a little more energy that I need to burn off, Hermie”, Naomi started. Maybe we should wrestle to see who gets to go first...and third...and fifth and so on...and so on.”

“Alright”, I countered, “But if I catch you is that Spladle, I’m not letting you up until you say ‘Uncle’. I always like when we have Alabama Style Sex.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmm...Hermie. You really are a scrumptious piece of man candy”, Naomi purred.


And with that, a long night turned into a really long day

Last edited by HermanDG; 15-Aug-18 at 13:10. Reason: Updated some passages for greater clarity
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Old 15-Aug-18, 10:21
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Damn, Naomi is a sexy beast. Good mix of wrestling and sex in this one, and while I love to see the men lose, seeing the arrogant pro wrestlers get their comeuppance was fantastic. Thank you for continuing this, mate.

Now, I am off to google what a spladle hold is.

Oh. Oh, my. Oooooh, dayum....
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domination wrestling, fem vs fem, femdom domination, interracial domination, mixed battles, pro style hold, sex wrestling, strong black woman, strong blonde beauty, submission wrestling

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