Go Back   Male vs Female | The Mixed Wrestling Forum > Mixed Wrestling & Fighting > Wrestling & Fighting Stories



Check out the latest release by Fight Pulse: Bianca vs Andreas.
Preview photos are available in this topic. Get this video at: Fight Pulse - MX-251.




Reply
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
  #1  
Old 04-Apr-22, 16:07
curioussparky curioussparky is offline
Member
Points: 6,812, Level: 35 Points: 6,812, Level: 35 Points: 6,812, Level: 35
Activity: 0% Activity: 0% Activity: 0%
Last Achievements
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Posts: 52
Thanks: 939
Thanked 275 Times in 36 Posts
Default Headscissored at the Hermit (Part 1)

A brutally competitive headscissor competition...

Kerry: “Are you both ready for this?” says the referee. Hell yes I almost blurt out. I’ve been waiting to show this arrogant asshole what a real woman’s legs can do ever since he challenged me to this “contest”. We’re in basement of the Hermit, a ten-a-penny dive bar if ever there was one, standing a few feet apart in the centre of the chalk square that counts for a “ring” here. Underground fights take place here every weekend, and the cops turn a blind eye (hell, some of them take part), but this is going to be no ordinary fight. See, this idiot has challenged me to a very specific type of challenge: a “headscissor contest”.


It all started with an argument at the bar (he said I’d stepped on his snakeskin boots, I hadn’t). Then he made some lewd remark about me cleaning them off, and I said if he kept that up I’d rip them off him and beat him unconscious with them. Then he said he’d like to see me try, I said I’d break his legs first if it was easier, then he said he’d especially like to see me try that - that he was some kind of rodeo jockey and had incredibly strong thighs. Well, I wasn’t going to take that was I? I’ve been riding horses in the ranches around this town since before I could walk, AND I ride a Harley everywhere, AND I’ve had Jiu JItsu lessons. Ok, one lesson. But still, I challenged him to a leg wrestle, right away, downstairs, and he said we’ll do one better: a headscissor contest. And here we are.


I look at him now, standing there, that arrogant smirk still on his face. He’s handsome I suppose, although he doesn’t really look like a rodeo jockey: he has more of a pretty boy face, high cheekbones, green eyes (snake’s eyes really), short crew cut like a marine. There’s a tiny scar above his left eyebrow, but other than that he looks unblemished. No tattoos - a real minus in my book. I don’t trust men with no ink. He’s got maybe an inch on my 5’10, and now that he’s stripped to his black CK boxers I guess he does look like he at least works out occasionally. Reasonable six pack, wiry but not bulked frame. And the legs? Well, ok they do look a bit beefed up around the thigh department. Par for the course round here, with all the horses need ridin’. But does he have anything on me? Does he fuck.


Carl: Well, it’s not often an opportunity like this walks through the door. Biker chick, slim but with tattoos on her arms and tight black jeans showing off her pins, walks straight in and steps on my prized boots. A bit of friendly jostling about our respective leg strengths and here we are. She looks damn good out of those jeans, for sure. Now in just black undies and matching bra, you can see her legs have just as many tattoos as her arms. Skulls, mermaids, a rattlesnake, the works. Jet black hair and deep brown eyes complete the “Bad Girrrrrl” look. But this bad girl accepted the wrong challenge today. I rock my hips from side to side, looking for any sign of intimidation in my opponents eyes. She’s either a great poker player or she’s a fool. Either way, breaking her in will be a joy.


There's a high shriek of feedback as Ref grabs the ol’ mic which hangs from the ceiling. “We have ourselves a squeeze-off tonight! So, just to be clear, here are the rules…”


Some wiseass in the crowd that’s gathered around the chalk square yells “No clothes!” The drunken laughter continues until Ref yells “If I can’t state the rules, we have no fight…” They pipe down at that.


Ref is actually Bill Henley, the guy who runs the joint (the owner is Absinthe Annie, but she’s rarely seen in public). He’s built like an M1 Abrams and commands authority here. “Here are the rules: both fighters will lie in the centre of the chalk, top-to-tail. They will each position their heads and necks between their opponent’s thighs and secure their ankles. On the count of three - and NOT before - they will squeeze their legs together. If a fighter verbally submits - the fight’s over. If they tap the other’s leg, or the ground, - the fight’s over. If they pass out - fight’s over. Are we clear?” He turns to Kerry. “Clear.” She says, and Bill turns to me. “Are we clear?” “Crystal''.


“Good. Before you begin, is there anything you too lovebirds want to say to each other?” Before I can speak, Kerry smiles all fake-innocent and says “Just that the next time you see my face, I’ll be standing over you, and I’ll be wearing your boots.” Her eyes flick to my prized footwear as she says this (yes I insisted on wearing them for this), and the crowd humours us with a chorus of oooooooooooooooooohs and whoops and “Kick his ass”!


Unphased, I look straight back into those dark eyes. They're almost like black holes, but you can just make the thick circle of brown out in them. There’s a couple of freckles on the top of her nose, which kind of make her seem damselish, which I’m sure isn’t the look she’s going for. “You’ve got an acid tongue.” I remark. “Try not to drool on my boots when I’m crushing you.” This gets another bout of cheering from the home crowd, and I turn to acknowledge it, but then Bill is saying “FIGHTERS, TAKE YOUR POSITIONS…” and it’s time to do this thang….


Kerry: I don’t need telling twice. That last comment has set my blood boiling. Drool on his boots? He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t need a surgeon by the time my legs are done with him.


We drop to our sides, and I prop myself up on one elbow, my tattooed left leg lying straight against the hard concrete floor of the Hermit’s basement. I raise my other leg up like I’m doing a half-split warmup, which predictably gets a few more whoops from the rowdy crowd. I ignore them, and instead concentrate on Carl, who has dropped to his side parallel to me (head to toe), and has tucked his arm behind his head, lying back like he’s chilling on the porch hammock or somethin’. He raises his own meaty left leg in a mirror image of mine, and slaps his thigh with his other hand. “Come on in, beers cold…” He remarks, and the crowd gives him a good laugh. I roll my eyes and try not to blush. Up close, his legs do actually look pretty strong. Focus! I tell myself as I manoeuvre my upper body forward, getting ready to insert my head between his thighs, while at the other end, he does the same.


When he’s a few inches from my legs, I snap them together in front of him and open them again, and he jerks back. This gets an absolute chorus of bawling from the crowd, and for the first time Carl looks rattled. “Enough of that!” Yells Bill. “I don’t want to see your legs closed until I say “three” , am I clear?” I nod and smirk as I reopen my killer pins, and catch a last glimpse of Carl’s face. He’s grinning but his eyes are flashing daggers at me, I can tell his ego didn’t like my little snap trick. I’m only just getting started destroying your ego. I think as Carl’s head disappears between my thighs, and I feel the scratch of his stubble on my inner leg as he positions himself. That’s right, in you get, cowboy!


Meanwhile, I drop onto my left shoulder and gingerly rest my head on his thigh. It’s not a comfortable pillow, to say the least - in fact its rock fucking hard! I also now have a front row seat for this jockey’s ass, which, I am loath to admit does actually look pretty hot. It’s then I notice there is a little white sticker stuck to his left boxer-covered butt cheek, inches from my nose. On it, he has written You’re fucked, biker bitch! and drawn a little smiley face with the tongue sticking out.


“You’re so dead.” I snarl as I click my ankles together…


Carl: I can’t help but grin as Kerry discovers my little note for her. I’ll admit it, that little trick she pulled snapping her shapely pins together did rattle me. Up close, her legs do actually look pretty strong, with dancers muscle forming shapely curves beneath those tattoos. I’ve currently got my left cheek resting on some metal-band rune, and I’m staring at a neat full colour butterfly tattoo which covers her pert little ass, a wing on each cheek. Cute.


I guffaw as she vents her frustration at my note, making sure she can hear me laughing at her ass. Psyche game is half of a headscissor contest. The other half is having fucking strong thighs. Hearing Kerry’s bare ankles click together behind my head, I take great pleasure in doing the same, slowly wrapping one snakeskin-booted foot over the other. From this angle, I can actually see over Kerry’s ass, up her back to where my legs are crossed. It looks like her head is being swallowed by a python, which is a pretty apt description of what’s about to happen. You see, I haven’t been entirely honest with poor Kerry. It isn’t just hundreds of hours of Rodeo ridin’ and horse breakin’ in these thighs of mine. It’s thousands of kilometres of running, too. I did the NYC marathon last year, placing in the top fifteen. I’m also a purple belt in BJJ (I neglected to mention this to her too, sorry Kerry!) so I know how to apply a killer grip. All that training is currently locked around this cocky little gal’s head. Believe me when I tell you, she stepped on the wrong boots today.


Ref Bill is crouching down next to us now, inspecting the holds. Finally, he nods in approval and I hear him asking Kerry if she’s ready. “I am!” Comes a muffled reply from my legs. You’re so not. Next Bill’s grizzled face is looming over mine where it's framed by Kerry’s tattooed thighs. “Are you ready, Carl?” I grin up at him. “Just make sure you have the medic ready for her, Bill.”


As he stands up I make sure to make a cocky wink at the drunken crowd, who roar with various cheers, boos and catcalls. “ON MY COUNT!” Yells Bill. “ONE….” My heart starts to hammer in anticipation as I tense my legs in readiness, and feel a jolt in my cheeks as Kerry does the same. “TWO….” I breathe out hard, then take a big gasp of air. Kerry’s shoulders hunch above me and I can tell she’s doing the same. She’ll damn well need it, that’s for sure.


“THREE!”


Kerry: Holy fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuc…is what I would currently be screaming if I could. But as a movie tagline once said, when you can’t breathe you can’t scream.


Truth be told I nearly just lost the match, straight out the gate. I don’t know whether I was still smarting from Carl’s note, or whether one of the endless catcalls from the crowd got to me, but he managed to lock his hold on just a fraction of a second before I did. The “THREE” has barely left Ref lips when there’s a horrible sounding squeak which I guess is Carl’s prized fucking boots sliding together behind my head, then the ass Ive just so-not-been oggling at in front of me cinches, the thighs on either side of my head and neck balloon up and out, and my whole body makes an involuntary jerk as Carl’s glutes crush my neck, throttling me. As I say, holy fuck.


In a survival panic-reaction, my hands fly to his legs, just as I jerk my own legs ramrod straight, grinding my ankles together as I squeeze him. I’m rewarded by a satisfying gasp as his breath cuts off, then his hands are pawing at my ass. Yeah, two can play this game, fucker. My confidence recovering slightly, I try to ignore the muffled bawling of the crowd, try ignore the vice-like pressure building and building around my poor neck and skull, try to ignore the told-you-so voice in my head that seems to want to tell me that yes, he does actually have damn strong thighs,and just squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeze…


Carl: I got the jump on her. Well,, why not? Ref had started to say “THREE”, so I let rip, holding nothing back on the cocky little bitch - looking to establish my dominance early. And it was just as well, as when she does start squeezing - well, that Harley she rides must be a 1700cc beast, because her thighs are fucking strong!


My hands fly to her butterfly-ass, largely just to have something to grip onto. I already can’t breathe, her toned legs making short work of my neck. But I don’t waste any time pulling at her legs like she’s doing to mine. It’s a rookie error, believe me - legs are four times as strong as arms. Instead, I focus on crushing her right back. Snarling into her ass, I violently jerk my legs once….twice, sending ripples of power into my limbs, like a snake crushing its prey. By the shocked gasp on a few audience member’s faces, I can tell it’s having an effect…


Kerry: He’s going to break my neck, I think, desperately trying not to panic. Just when I thought I was getting somewhere with my squeezing, Carl’s legs and back begin to ripple with potential energy, then JERK….holy fuck he’s going to break my neck….JERK…..holy fuck… one crowd member is starting to look seriously worried, and this in turn worries me. Will I just suddenly hear a loud SNAP and everything will go dark? The You’re fucked smiling face stares back at me as I gasp, feeling my tummy suck in and out as I try to get air that Carl’s legs just won’t let me have. I need to get a grip here….or rather, a better grip, or I’m going to lose this.


Thinking fast, I stop pulling at Carl’s legs (it’s not making any difference) and instead reach behind me. Meanwhile, I curl my ankles towards me like a mermaid kicking her tail, then very quickly unlock my calves before grabbing my own instep and relocking my left calf behind Carl’s head. I hear Carl get a breath in before I pull hard, locking up my new scissor and forcing his face into my tattooed-AF ass with my improved grip. This gets a gasp from the audience, and mercifully, Carl’s grip seems to ratchet down a few notches. There we go, fucker. I may just win this…


Carl: GODDAMN, ok, bitch, this is a good hold. Holy mother of Jeesus, Carl, you’ve got a fight on your hands. I actually thought she was done when her grip loosened, but before I could start lording it over her she grabbed her ankle and now it feels like my skull is being crushed from all the angles. I splutter as my face is forced forward , my nose getting buried in her ass crack, her black undies seeming to try and force themselves into my gaping mouth. Her calf is gripping the back of my poor neck like a foal-lease, and the combined sense of being constricted actually means my grip loosens a little, allowing Kerry to let out little pants. This is not good.


Ok, Biker Bitch. It’s on. This is a good hold, but how does the old song go? Anything you can do I can do better… Quick as a flash, I unlock my boots, while digging my hands into the butterfly wings on her ass and using my grip there to haul us 90 degrees to the right, so I end up on my back with her still crushing me. With her now on her front, I throw my legs back up, but this time, I triangle-lock the bitch right back, PornHub style, throwing one booted foot around the back of her skull while clenching my glutes around her silly neck. Did I mention I’m a purple belt in BJJ? Well, this is my signature hold. “Purple” is the colour her face is about to turn. Cinching up the trap, I’m rewarded with a panicked squeal and a slight loosening of her grip, so I can at least breathe on her ass rather than just drowning in it. Not long now….


Kerry: Someone is squealing. Oh shit, it's me isn’t it? I stupidly actually thought it was over when his ankles unlocked and he rolled to his back, I thought he was a wounded dog giving up the fight. Then there's just LEG everywhere as he triangles my neck, and suddenly I’m drowning. This new position also has the unfortunate disadvantage of making me face the crowd, he’s profering my crushed skull like a sort of trophy. My hands scrabble madly at the hard stone floor of the Hermit, just as my squealing is cruelly cut off by Carl’s awesome glutes.


My own hold is still on Carls’ head (thank God for small mercies), but I can feel my grip loosening. Ref seems to see it too, as he comes round my end and croches next to me. “Do you submit, Kerry?” I must look an absolute state, eyes bulging, face likely going some interesting colours, and I’m as surprised as Ref is when I hear myself splutter “No…”


Carl clearly hears my defiance as the grip suddenly tightens again and the room swims. I need to do something, fast. Letting go of my ankle, I plant both hands on the floor in front of me. Every day, I do a five minute plank, and this combined with my Harley ridin’ means I have a very strong core. Now, I put it to use like my life depends on it. Thrusting myself into a push-up position, I kick my legs out straight and hoist my hips off the floor, along with Carl’s head. Jerking my ass in the air, I use this new position to apply extra pressure. Carl gasps and the killer grip on my head once again loosens just a itsy little bit…


Carl: “Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I grunt, surprised as anyone in the room when Kerry not only refuses to submit to my hold, but then does this hardcore plank thing, brutally hoisting my head off the floor and turning up her scissor to skull-crushing pressure. Now I actually do try to pull at her legs. Yes, I know I said this was futile, but I’m actually worried something is going to break if I don’t get some relief. My hands desperately try to get between my mashed cheeks and her lethal tattooed thighs. Worse, I feel my triangle lock loosening.


Now it's my turn to have Bill crouch next to me. “Wanna submit, partner?” He asks, and for a second I actually consider saying yes. The pressure is insane. But then I remember her cocky freckled face saying how she was going to wear my boots, and I bite my tongue (I actually am biting my tongue as my cheeks are being mashed together so hard). When the submission is not forthcoming, some wiseass in the audience yells “BREAK HIS FUCKING NECK, GRRRL!”


Right, enough fucking around.


Once again, I very briefly unlock my booted ankles, only this time I suddenly spread my legs wide, performing the “Splits”, knocking Kerry’s planted tattooed arms out from under her. The poor GRRRL involuntary face plants herself into the hard floor (ouch!) and I feel her grip suddenly loosen. Time to strike.


Kicking my legs up, I once again swallow her head with my legs, making sure to slap my boots together with an authoritative SLAP which echoes round the room in the sudden silence as the crowd watches in anticipation. Realising that I can actually breathe now that her grip has loosened, I decide to taunt her. “Time for a ride baby. Happy …first …rodeo!”


Then I roll hard to my left. Then my right. Then my left again, and then again, rolling across the hard floor so that Ref has to scuttle out of the way. With each roll my grip on her neck tightens, while I feel her desperately just trying to keep hold of me with her legs. “YEAH!” I yell out triumphantly as we pitch over again. “Anaconda death roll, baby!”


Kerry: The world is spinning. Literally. The crowd spins and inverts, just a horrible mess of shouting faces as Carl brutally flips us over and over. I pant, gasp, splutter, desperately trying to keep some sort of grip on his head even as his own grip gets brutally tighter. I can taste blood from where a crashed face first into the floor when he split his legs. Yeah, I actually thought I’d nearly won then, too…


The world spins back upright as Carl rolls to his back then straightens his legs hard, before rolling back the other way. My chest is heaving for air as he spins and squeezes and spins and squeezes. I try to squeeze back but I’m tired, and he seems to sense it and suddenly he stops mid roll and jerks his legs again, eliciting a stangeled squeak from my mouth.


“Hey Ref!” he yells from between my legs. “Ask her again if she’s done!” Once again Bill leans over me as Iie on my side, wheezing like a fish out of water. I swear I’m struggling to remember a time when I wasn’t between Carl’s legs, the world is just thighs now. “Kerry. Do you submit?”


A very drunk woman in the audience looks straight at me and draws a line across her throat. Thanks bitch. Very sisterly.


Carl: I watch as Bill leans down and asks my victim…sorry, opponent once again if she wants to give up. She doesn’t say anything, but I can sense we’re heading for the endgame here. Her grip on me, while tight, isn’t so devastating anymore. Now on our sides, I’m able to prop myself on one elbow and give her another punishing squeeze. “Kerry, if you don’t submit I’ll have to knock you out.”


To prove my point I jerk my legs again, tightening my glutes and adductors against the sides of her neck. I’ve been squeezing for a solid five minutes now, but I feel like I could do this all night. As I say, marathon legs…sorry, Kerry! Well, not sorry, actually, she wanted this fight! I playfully slap her ass, further embarrassing her, and when she tries to squeeze me back one last time, I brutally countercrush her, this time rocking my hips from side to side in a threatening will-I-won’t-I twist manoeuvre, and it’s this that seems to finally break her. I watch as a hand manically taps the floor in submission.


Kerry: I tap. Yes, I said I wouldn't. Yes, this is fucking embaressing, ok? But after five minutes of being squeezed, rolled and face planted, I just can’t take anymore. I have to hand it to him, that final squeeze where he hypnotically rocked his hips was damn effective. The feeling like he might just snap my neck was too much to ignore, so now I’m frantically tapping the floor and unlocking my legs, the cramping sensation in my thighs the least of my problems.


“She submits! Let her go!” Yells Ref. For a few worrying seconds Carl doesn’t seem to have heard, and carries on choking me. “Carl! That’s enough!” repeats Bill, and finally he unlocks his ankles and pushes me roughly away.


I want the ground to swallow me up. Carl is instantly on his feet, lapping up the thunderous applause of the crow. “Yeah, go Carl!” “You crushed her!” “Nice work!”


I roll onto my front, gasping, catching glimpse of his fucking snakeskin boots as he arrogantly parades around me. Ref grabs his hand and holds it up, insisting on announcing the obvious to everyone present. “AND THE WINNER, BY HEADSCISSOR SUBMISSION, CARL!”


Carl: I grin at the crowd as Bill holds my hand in the air. Well, it was only ever going to go one way wasn’t it? Rodeo, BJJ, NYC marathon….killer thighs. Sorry not sorry, Kerry. Still, she gave me a damn hot run for my money!


I turn to look at her now. She’s on her knees, panting, waving away Bill’s offer of water. Tough girl, for sure. I walk over and offer her a hand up. “Nice work, partner. Guess I get to keep ma boots?”


Kerry: To be honest, I wish he’d just lorded it over me. Or knocked me out. That magnanimous offer of a hand up, that of course I won grin on that fucking untatood pretty boy face….ugh!


Of course I accept it. Getting to my (somewhat wobbly) legs, I stand up to face him. Our hands are clenched. Fuck, he’s a good looking asshole, I think as I try not to show how much I’m still panting.


“You…got…lucky….” I say, earning a bark of a laugh and a killer smirk back,


“We’ll see.” He says, a cheeky look coming into his eyes. “Rematch, a full fight this time, next Friday?”



I don’t need asking twice.


“FUCK YES!”
Reply With Quote
The Following 11 Users Say Thank You to curioussparky For This Useful Post:
  #2  
Old 05-Apr-22, 06:36
blackice225's Avatar
blackice225 blackice225 is offline
Member
Points: 4,472, Level: 28 Points: 4,472, Level: 28 Points: 4,472, Level: 28
Activity: 2.4% Activity: 2.4% Activity: 2.4%
Last Achievements
 
Join Date: Dec 2013
Posts: 115
Thanks: 877
Thanked 53 Times in 44 Posts
Default Re: Headscissored at the Hermit (Part 1)

Holy crap, you can subvert expectations and write a good story!
Reply With Quote
The Following User Says Thank You to blackice225 For This Useful Post:
  #3  
Old 10-May-22, 00:32
Hypotheosis Hypotheosis is offline
member
Points: 1,315, Level: 14 Points: 1,315, Level: 14 Points: 1,315, Level: 14
Activity: 0% Activity: 0% Activity: 0%
Last Achievements
 
Join Date: Sep 2020
Posts: 8
Thanks: 4
Thanked 3 Times in 2 Posts
Default Re: Headscissored at the Hermit (Part 1)

part 2?
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old 04-Jun-22, 18:08
curioussparky curioussparky is offline
Member
Points: 6,812, Level: 35 Points: 6,812, Level: 35 Points: 6,812, Level: 35
Activity: 0% Activity: 0% Activity: 0%
Last Achievements
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Posts: 52
Thanks: 939
Thanked 275 Times in 36 Posts
Default Re: Headscissored at the Hermit (Part 1)

PART 2

Carl: Well, look who it isn’t. It’s Saturday night, and I’m back at the Hermit, facing down a certain biker chick who last week foolishly accepted a squeeze off with me after stepping on my boots. Well, that cocky girl turned out to be all hat and no cattle, as we say on the raunch. She put up a good fight and there were moments where I certainly thought I’d be sent to that great Cadillac ranch in the sky, but in the end she tapped to my boots. No sweat.

But this week it isn’t a squeeze-off….well, there might end up being some squeezin’, after all the boys tell me that freckled face did look mighty fine in my thighs! But for the moment it’s a good ol’ slug fest.

Kerry over there is putting on a brave face, and she’s certainly gone for the whole biker brawler chick look with that tight pair of leather studded shorts, bra from the strip joint up the road, and…well, not much else except for all those tattoos. But I can tell she’s nervous. And she should be. Imma purple belt BJJ, did I mention that before? Maybe once or twice, eh? And she…well, I imagine she’s thrown a few bottles in her time, but this is a bare knuckle fight, baby!

“Hey Miss Tappy!” I say, loving the look of fury in those radiant brown eyes. “Got any new tattoos? Maybe one that says “Carl’s bitch”?” This gets a few ooohs and gasps from the crowd, and maybe I am being a bit mean, but come on. She’s a big girl, right?

Kerry: Well I was just starting to wonder if this was a bad idea. Carl - that asshole - looks super confident in his tight black MMA shorts, showing off his legs. I guess I should be glad he’s not wearing those fucking boots, althuogh I can see them, placed just outside the chalk fighting square, a reminder of last week.

But I’m trying not to think about that now. I need to focus on this fight. The problem is, I’ve only ever had one BJJ lesson. A few more kickboxing lessons. My friend Suzie, a self-defense instructor two towns over, has been schooling me all week - while begging me not to go through with this. But I have to, otherwise I’ll just be the biker chick who got crushed over some boots…

Then Carl makes his “Miss Tappy” comment, and I see red, “You’re in for a surprise, cowboy. I’m going to tattoo your begging face on my ass”. This is a hollow threat - my ass already has a full butterfly tattoo on both cheeks - but it gets a thrilling “Ooooooh” from the crowd and the first sign of nerves from Carl’s cocky mug, so it’s worth it. Maybe I’ll win the day with a little bit of the ol’ psyche game and a whole lotta luck….

Carl: I’m about to respond to Miss Tappy’s oh-so-clever comments when Bill Henley steps between us, his denim clad bulk silencing both me and the crowd. I settle for glaring at Kerry while he talks, mouthing you’re done girl from over his shoulder and drawing my finger across my throat.

“Now just you folk all settle yourselves down. Tonight, we have a grudge fight.” The crowd let off a few whoops and crush her agains!, countered by nah, you get him back girl.! “Here are the rules. The fighters will start on my say-so. You will stay in the chalk line. If a fighter taps out, the fight’s over.”

I just can’t help myself. “You hear that Miss Tappy? That’s your cue.”

“QUIET!” Yells Bill above the resulting guffawing. I swear Kerry blushes so hard she gains a few more freckles. “As I was saying, a tap ends the fight. If a fighter goes limp, can’t get up…the fight’s over. Pretty much anything goes, until I say it doesn’t. Are we clear?”

“We’re clear.” says Kerry, now glaring daggers at me. Good. It will make it easier to bring the pain, bitch.

“Carl are we clear?”

“You know we are Bill.”

“Then….FIGHT!”

Kerry: And just like that, it’s on! Oh boy. Carl begins to circle me, this big ol’ dumb grin on his face like a cat that’s just seen the cream. I get my arms up in an X, feet planted wide like Suze taught me, but really I have no clue what I am doing. Oh well, fake it till you make it, right?

As we circle, that jerk starts to goad me again. “Been real nice wearing my boots all week again! Maybe once I’ve beaten you I’ll let you lick them, as a treat!”

That’s it. I see red. All of Suzie’s training goes out the window. And Bill did say pretty much anything goes, didn’t he? I keep my eyes on Carl’s as he does his little dance and slowly close the distance between us.

“Come on, Tappy…” he starts to say, but then I jerk my right leg up and aim the top of my foot (tattooed with a dagger on it, fittingly) straight up into the crotch of his shorts….

Carl: Well, I sort of had her down as a dirty fighter but it’s still a surprise to see her go for the low blow. Still, I’m ready. As soon as that tattooed foot comes up I slam my thighs shut, trapping her ankle in my grip. Oh boy, the look of surprise on her face is almost as tasty as the mocking laughter from the crowd.

“Let…go!” she says, hopping on one foot while I squeeze her foot in my legs.

“Let go!!” I say, waving my hands mockingly at her. “Oh dear Tappy, looks like you learned nothing from last week! Should always watch out for my thighs!”

“Fuck you!” she snarls, and tries to pull her foot out, but I hold fast.

“Maybe later Tappy” I say, then twist forward, aiming my right elbow at the mermaid tattoo on her inner thigh. She yelps and staggers back, and I spring into action, twisting my hips and aiming a roundhouse kick for her startled face…

Kerry: I stagger back, pain shooting up my inner thigh, and drop to my knee. And it's a good job I do, because it's the only thing that stops me being decapitated by a brutal roundhouse kick. The crowd oooh’s as his muscular leg arches through the air. Ok so he isn’t fucking around. But neither am I.

Without thinking, I lunge forward, spearing him in the hip with my right shoulder before he can get his foot back down. It’s not the classiest of moves, but then I’m not the classiest of gals. In any case, it has the desired effect, and we collide to the floor with me on top of his side. The asshole even looks surprised.

For a minute we just sort of thrash around on the floor, then Suzie’s training kicks in. I grab his left wrist and fall to my back at a right angle to him, dragging his arm between my legs. He tries to sit up but I force his throat down with my left calf. “No you don’t…” I say, and brutally torque the arm, earning a startled cry from Carl’s throat. “Where’s your BJJ training now?!” I snarl, confident for the first time that I could win this…

Carl: FUUUUUUCK! Funny how a fight can change. One minute I was about to KO her with a kick, now I’m on the floor with my arm being wrenched from his socket. Part of me thinks where the hell did she learn that? The other half thinks….it’s on.

Snarling back at her, I twist in the hold, trying to grab my own elbow and get to my knees. This causes her hips to rise and I can tell it's getting harder for her to maintain the hold, but she’s game for it, punishing my escape attempt by twisting harder. “Aiiiiiiii!” I scream.

“I’ll break it! Don’t think I won’t!” she says, and you know what, I believe her. Desperate now, I release my elbow and aim a left punch to her lower floating ribs. She winces and twists, I scream, and punch again. She twists again, and I’m just waiting to hear that snap when I land my third punch, and finally she releases, but not before kicking me in the side. I roll away, panting. Ok, so this is a real fight now…

Kerry: Damn it, so close! I think as I kick Carl away. I was beginning to think I’d have to break his arm, but that rib punch stings like fuck. Hissing, I stagger to my feet, trying not to rub my bruised rib, as Carl does the same. I see him flex his arm and wince.

“How’s the arm?” I say, grinning at him.

“Oh, we both know it's my legs you should be worried about.” he replies. We start to circle each other again, and I think Carl looks more wary. Time to press the advantage.

Moving in, I feign a right punch and when he goes to block I drop to my sore right knee, bringing my right foot around for a sweep kick at those prized legs of his…

Carl: I fell for the faint (what is wrong with me today??) and then the next thing I see is that tattooed fit leg swooping round at my feet. It’s too late to jump, so I plant my feet, bend my knees slightly, and take it.

Kerry’s face freezes in shock as her foot is stopped short by my ankle. Still on my feet, I grin at her. “Told you to worry about my legs.” I say, then snap kick her in the head. To be honest I only meant to knock her away, but maybe I was a bit pissed about the armbar, because it came out as a full blown Muay Thai style shin job. A thin spray of red spit flies from Kerry’s mouth, the gal flips twice, lands on her front and goes still. The crowd gasps in shocked surprise.

I start towards her but Bill waves me back, leaning down to check on her.

Kerry: “Ughhh…..” the world is a hazy blur. I was so surprised that my oh so clever sweep kick failed that I didn’t see Carl’s brutal counter. Now I’m on my front, groaning as Bill Henley lifts my arm to see if I’m out. Must…continue… I think to myself, and thrust myself onto one elbow to cheers from the crowd. Rolling onto my side I see Carl looking at me with…concern? But the look quickly falls from his face when he sees I’m getting up.

“Past your bedtime is it Tappy?” He says. I spit blood onto the floor and wipe my mouth.

“I’m a night owl” I growl, then rush him. I don’t think he was expecting me to have so much energy as he doesn’t even manage to block. I collide with him, our bodies slapping together, and then he tries to grab my head but I duck, twist behind him, and pounce. Leaping onto his back I lock my forearm across the fuckers throat, lock my legs around his waist and squeeeeeze….

Carl: Shiiiiiit. I’ll say this for Kerry, she recovers damn quick. I thought that kick was a game ender, but now I am struggling to breath, staggering around the chalk circle as the bitch cinches up on me like a vine.

“Night night….” she whispers in my ear, which is kind of hot but I need to get some air here. I grab for her wrist and try to flip her, but she cinches those strong thighs of hers around my middle. Oh boy, this is getting serious.

My vision starts to go a bit hazy. I try to throw an elbow back but she’s too close and I can’t get the angle. The crowd starts to chant “KE-RY! KE-RY! KE-RY!” Fickle bastards. Only one thing for it. I decide to take a risk and throw myself back to the floor, hard…..

Kerry: “Oooooooof!” The air is knocked out of me as Carl drops to his back, crushing me with his full weight. Amazingly, I manage to hang on, panting hard although my hold is looser. I try to pull hard on the choke but Carl is now struggling mightily, wrenching at my wrist. Snarling, I try to double down on my body scissor. “I have legs…too..” I snarl, and for a minute he does indeed gasp, then the fucker does something clever.

He throws his own legs up and locks them around my ankles in front of him. I squeal as the pressure on them is instantly unbearable, and decide to abandon both holds, slamming my elbows into his back as I do….

Carl: I gasp with relief as Kerry finally lets go, but not before hammering me in the back with her bony ol’ elbows. I wince, releasing her ankles from my overscissors, and roll onto my knees. I see her scrambling to her feet behind me, no doubt thinking I’m an easy target needing time to recover. Wrong, bitch. I think.

I quickly plant my hands on the dirty floor, push myself into a plant, then mule kick both my legs out behind me. The balls of my feet bury themselves in her toned belly, and I hear a satisfying whoosh as the air leaves her. Seeing her crumble over, I flip to my feet in front of her. She’s bent over and practically retching, and when she looks up her bloodshot eyes have the look of a wounded, angry puppy. “This is for trying to choke me.” I say, then backflip, the top of both feet slapping her chin….

Kerry: Everything happens in slow motion. I look up from where I’m gasping after Carl’s brutal mule kick, only to see him flying. Then one foot hits my chin. Then another. I go flying myself, flipping through the air to land on my back.

Amazingly, I’m still conscious, but only just. I see Bill coming over to check on me (again) and its really tempting just to lie here. Play dead. Better than submitting anyway.

“Kerry. Are you there Kerry?” Bill is shaking my shoulders. I think he’d probably slap me but my face is already too swollen and bruised. Finally I push myself to my elbows. The crowd gasps, and then I see Carl circling me like a shark around its bleeding prey…

Carl: Well, this chick sure doesn’t go down easy. I wave Bill away as I see Kerry start to sit up. “Sorry not sorry Kerry, but it looks like it’s Loss #2 for you today. Now, how shall I finish you off? Well, since you liked my thighs so much last week…”

As she starts to get to her knees I move in to straddle her shoulders, going for the headscissor KO, when she punches me in the balls. And this time, I’m not anywhere near prepared.

Kerry: “Yeah. YEAH FUCKER!” I yell as Carl doubles over me, clutching his crown jewels. The crowd has gone apeshit. I need to act now before he recovers, or I’m done for. Still sitting on my ass while he’s bent over I snarl up at him. “So, you were going to scissor me?” I reach up and grab his head, trying to throw my legs up at his head, but it sort of goes wrong. At the last second he realizes what’s happening, releases his crotch and throws a right hook at me. I catch it, and try to get my right leg over his head, looking to lock in one of those cool triangle choke holds you see on UFC, but he slips loose and my shin ends up under his chin. Make do and mend, I think, and just pull on his arm, and it has the effect of pushing my shin up into his throat.

I have no idea what this hold is but it seems to be having the desired effect, as Carl is going blue and struggling like a trapped raccoon! “Watch out for MY legs, Carl!”

Carl: “Ugh!” I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe! One second I was about to headscissor the bitch, then my balls were on fire, and now I’m trapped in a fucking gogoplata! I think she did it by accident, but holy fuck!

Trying to stay calm, I get my legs beneath me and try to power up. I pull Kerry about a foot off the floor, but she pulls hard on my trapped arm and my poor throat is forced onto her shin. I try again and she throws her other leg into play, hooking her left calf rund the back of my head like a tattooed snake. Gagging, I drop my knees in the hold. And of course she starts taunting me.

“How’s it feel, tough guy? Can’t breathe? Wanna tap for me?” Her goading makes me see red, and I swing my free fist for her ribs, right on the sore patch from earlier. She winces but doesn’t let go, so I hit it again. And again. Her puffy face creases up in frustration but she doesn’t release my arm to block it, and everything is starting to go blurry…

Kerry: I scream in agony as he punches me again and again, but I’m not letting go. My rib is on fire, but I pull back harder. Carl looks like a strangled snake, his veins now bulging out of his usually pretty boy face as he splutters over my leg. “Drool on me and I’lll kill you…..” I yell, and then he hits me again and I swear I feel my rib snap. I squeal, but like a woman giving birth I use the pain to give one last pull, forcing my shin right up into his windpipe. Carl gags, splutters, lifts his hand as if to tap my leg, but then it falls limp.

“Break the hold!” yells Bill, and I do, rolling to my side and clutching my rib in agony. Bill rushes over and lifts Carl’s hand up once, twice, three times, but he’s out. Doc Williams comes out of the crowd and rushes over with his stethoscope.

“Is…he…alright?” I yell above the noise of the crowd, who are cheering, booing, calling for an ambulance, calling for a rematch. I’m surprised at my sudden concern.

“He’ll live.” says the Doc, and sure enough he starts to prop himself on one elbow, rubbing his throat and looking like he’s just been born again or something…

Carl: The world comes back in a rush of sound and fury. I panic, reaching for my throat. “Easy there, Carl, easy boy. It takes me a minute to place it. “D…Doc? W…what happened?” My voice sounds like I’ve smoked a hundred Marlboros. And then there she is, leaning over me, sweaty, blooded, and clutching her swollen side, but unmistakably triumphant.

“You broke my rib, asshole.”

“You nearly…killed me.” I reply.

“Well, looks like we’re even.”

“For now…” I croak.

“For now” she says. “I’m going to get another tattoo”.

TO BE CONTINUED…
Reply With Quote
The Following 7 Users Say Thank You to curioussparky For This Useful Post:
Reply

Tags
femdom, headscissor, headscissors, maledom

Thread Tools
Display Modes


Similar Threads
Thread Thread Starter Forum Replies Last Post
Why do you like being headscissored? gamerober90 Wrestling & Fighting Discussion 6 16-Apr-22 06:20
How can i get headscissored? TheHeadscissoredTeen7 Wrestling & Fighting Discussion 1 30-Sep-20 13:17
Bald men getting headscissored. jayko Wrestling & Fighting Videos 1 23-Aug-20 04:38
The Sari of Discpline part 2: Part 2. Strong Hand jimp Wrestling & Fighting Stories 1 01-Nov-13 23:14
How is it like to get headscissored by a iamwesome Wrestling & Fighting Discussion 0 15-Mar-13 17:27


All times are GMT. The time now is 17:27.


Powered by vBulletin® - Copyright ©2000 - 2024, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.