Wrestling Against Weaker and Weaker Girls Unauthorized Fanfic Sequel

[mixfightor]

Thanks for the update, mate, and thank you for the heads up about the maledom. I do understand that in a mixed tournament like this, a certain number of the guys need to win just to keep the mixed element alive. Seeing the girls hurt or humiliated does make it harder to watch, so I appreciate you considering your fans and ripping the bandaid off quickly, so to speak.

The little comic strip was cool, too.

Thanks, mate.

[packline2110]

Hoping for the next installment soon! I need more!!! Lol

[packline2110]

Hoping to manifest an update

[EricRRobert]

Originally Posted by packline2110 [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

Hoping to manifest an update

Well, this post got me thinking, to the point I think I have Parts 12 and 13 all nicely mapped out in my head.

I'm not abandoning the story! I don't know if it will be tomorrow or a week from now, but I'm not abandoning it.

[EricRRobert]

Part 12

Kim was beaming with excitement as she prepared to step out on the mats for the second time today. This tournament had become her favorite event of the whole semester. If you had asked her about her favorite hobby two years ago, she’d have said “yoga.” If you asked her today, she’d still say “yoga,” but she’d be lying. The real answer was destroying boys on the wrestling mats.

She loved the effect she had on them. She’d come to crave it. She loved that she could make them humiliated, worshipful, scared, horny, all at once. Years of yoga had given her exceptional control over every muscle in her body, and she had quickly learned that it could also give her exceptional control over theirs.

The only downside was that her reputation was starting to precede her. In the first tournaments, all the guys had swaggered out on the mats, eager to dominate the cute little Asian girl, only to find themselves increasingly more frustrated and desperate as she took them apart. She particularly loved feeling that moment where their confidence broke. That moment where they finally started to accept the impossible truth that their faces really were hopelessly trapped between a 125 pound girl’s muscular little buttcheeks. Nowadays, guys tended to walk onto the mats completely serious, even a little nervous. It was still fun to beat them, but it wasn’t as great.

But her first match today, against Russell, had been one of her favorites of all time. The 5’10”, 145 pound pledge had walked onto the mats with that familiar “hi cutie, I’m gonna pin you” look she loved so much. Either the Psi-Us hadn’t warned him about her, or he didn’t believe them. And after that, everything had gone perfectly. God, she was feeling sexier right now than she had ever felt in her life.



She’d taken her time with Russell. She’d kept a smile on her face, making flirty eye contact the whole time as they circled. She’d easily dodged all his clumsy attempts to grab her, but with a cute “ooh, almost got me” giggle each time.

And when she finally decided to take him to the mats, she just played with him for five minutes. He really didn’t know how to wrestle, and she knew she could have made him tap any time she wanted, but she intentionally matched his own skill level. And as they struggled, she teased him with her body. She ran her breasts across his chest, ran her bare thigh between his legs. She traced her fingers down his sides and whispered “uh oh, did I just pin you” before giggling as she let him throw her off. She made sure to stay on top often, and to put him in positions where he had to use the absolute limits of his strength to throw her off. But she always did let him throw her off - just barely.

She’d sat on his face only briefly that first round - snuggled her little cheeks on either side of his jaw. She heard some cheeringing from the girls’ bleachers. But she wasn’t finished with him yet. She only wanted to give him the briefest introduction to her ass. She sat in an unbalanced stance on purpose and let him throw her off, relishing the embarrassed look on his face as he got to his knees and tried to reassert his dominance. “Face full of my butt,” she’d giggled. It wasn’t even a sentence, but she knew it was taking him a little closer to where she wanted him - aroused and embarrassed and scared all at the same time.

After five minutes, Russell’s already-bad wrestling was only getting worse. He was a mess. A tired, horny mess. He was already sucking wind while Kim was as fresh as the moment they started, and his erection was visibly tenting his shorts. That’s when she’d decided to take her first point. She let him put her on her back and pin her shoulders, let the ref count to three, and then almost casually brought her legs up under his armpits and locked her smooth thighs around his ribs. Not many girls had the core muscles to pull that off.

“Oh damn,” he’d laughed through his panting, like she’d accidentally gotten herself into a lucky position. He thought he was still winning this. And then she almost gently guided him off of her onto his side and started to squeeze, increasing the pressure very slowly, wanting to find the exact moment he’d tap. At fifty percent of her strength he was wincing, at sixty percent his face was a mask of pain and confusion, and at seventy percent he was tapping the mats furiously.

He’d picked himself up confused and hurt and she’d immediately given him a big hug. “Ah, got you. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll take the next one,” she reassured him.



But as the ref called for them to wrestle again, Kim dropped the facade completely. Her attitude changed from cute to predatory as she methodically took the outmatched freshman apart. She scissored his thighs together with hers, smiling as she watched him helplessly struggle and tug on them. Then she suddenly let go and smoothly transitioned into grapevining him. “I guess I can keep them together or make you spread them for me,” she’d giggled. “Can you make me spread mine?”

“S-stop it,” he’d gasped. But if anything, he cock was even harder than it had been all match. So Kim scooted up and slid her crotch up and down his hard cock through his thin shorts and her even thinner thong bikini bottom, and he whimpered as his body shivered. She looked in his eyes and smiled, mockingly and seductively. “Don’t mess your shorts, now,” she whispered tauntingly.

The overwhelmed look on his face had given Kim the perfect opportunity to flip Russell right over to his back, and before he even knew what had hit him, he was locked in a humiliating Boston Crab while his cute opponent sat on the back of his head. Just as Kim sensed he was about to tap, she’d released his legs and grabbed his hair and pulled his head between her thighs in an upside-down reverse headscissor, his chin lifted up so he had no choice but to stare at a bleacher of mocking sorority girls. And just as he was about to tap from that, she’d hopped up and casually fixed her hair. She was playing catch-and-release with him.

Russell had gotten up slowly, looking completely overwhelmed by the little yoga goddess in front of him. It was exactly the look she craved. Angry and pathetic and worshipful all at the same time. She took her time, kept playing with her hair and grinning at him, until he lost his temper and charged before she’d even brought her hands back down. But even in her girlish pose she’d still been ready. In one seamless move, she tossed him over her hip, slammed him hard to the mats, and dropped down and wrapped her thighs around his chest a second time.

She’d learned just how much pressure it took to make him tap - and she refused to give it to him. Her perfect control over her well muscled legs meant she always knew just how hard she was squeezing. One second she’d be taking him right to his limits, the next she’d be relaxing enough to give him hope of escape. She watched his lips as he struggled for air, felt his body with her thighs for every attempt to breathe. Every time he got a halfway decent breath, she crushed it right back out of him. For nearly three minutes she coiled around him like an anaconda. The other three matches had ended and she was all alone with him, every person in the gym watching her draw out his suffering.

Finally, she could see that his eyes weren’t focusing on her anymore. She was drowning him on dry land and he hadn’t even tried to tap. It sent a shiver down her spine, thinking about how completely in control she was that his entire life was in her hands. Or, between her toned thighs. Well, now it was time to finish him.

Kim unwrapped her thighs and hopped onto Russell’s chest, schoolgirl pinning him. As the ref started to count, she quietly teased “My pussy is just below your chin. Do you want to lick my pussy?”

“Y-yes,” the confused pledge had whispered. His brain was too fried to even realize how much he was embarrassing himself.

“Beg for it,” Kim purred as the count reached four.

“Please let me lick your pussy,” he whined.

“Sorry. Losers don’t get my pussy. They get my ass.”

“No -”

And with that, she’d scooted forward and reintroduced him to the crack of her ass. She buried his face between her strong glutes and clenched them around the sides of his face. She slid one bare foot under his shoulder so the facesit wouldn’t count as a pin. Every eye in the gym was on them as his face disappeared under her athletic ass.



She waited for the tap, but it didn’t come. This was the first time she’d ever managed this - to fry a boy’s brain so completely that he wouldn’t tap in her facesit. Either he didn’t want to, or he couldn’t remember to, or he had just surrendered to her ass completely. Maybe all three. Whatever the case, the end result was that after a minute or so the ref shouted that he was out.

Kim had clenched her glutes tight as she stood, and took Russell’s head up with her, pulling it just a foot or so off the mat before releasing it and letting it plop back down lifelessly. And then she’d smiled at the Psi-U bleachers, drinking in the angry and ashamed looks on their faces.

That had been barely an hour ago, and it had been the most fun fifteen minutes of her entire life. Kim felt like she was floating. And now she was stepping onto the mats to do it all over again. Best of all, Lucas was a transfer student. They hadn’t met. She knew he was on the swim team, and that excited her, because she was the one Kappa who preferred to wrestle in her swimwear. Maybe it was silly, but she relished beating him while wearing it - like swimming was supposed to be his thing and she wouldn't even let him have that.

She knew Lucas had watched the last round and would be itching for revenge on behalf of his frat, but maybe he’d be thinking that Russell had just been a wimpy freshman and Kim wasn’t anything too special. God, she hoped so. That would just be the best.

Then her mouth dropped open as Lucas took his position on the far side of the mats and pulled off his shirt.



The man was an absolute monster. He was 6’8” if he was an inch. Kim’s eyes barely came up to his pecs. Which were bare - he was wearing his little racing swimsuit and it left him practically naked. She had to crane her head back to shake hands with him as they reached the center of the mats.

“Good luck,” she said, trying to project confidence. Lucas just raised his eyebrows and didn’t say anything.

Marie took a position between them. “Okay, you two know the game by now,” she said. “WRESTLE!”

Lucas swiped at her and Kim jumped backwards. She’d never wrestled anyone close to his size. Her confidence was shaken as her mind raced to figure out how she could beat him. Okay, get behind him take his back, she thought. It works on taller guys. Even Claire almost took down that one guy. I got this.

She faked right, charged left, tried to duck under his long arm as he tried to grab for her. But despite being big, Lucas was far from slow. His right arm lashed out and caught Kim right across the chest, and the clothesline took her off her feet as she crashed hard onto her back.

She tried to sit back up quickly, but a huge foot slammed down across her chest. His foot was so massive that the ball of his foot crushed down into one of her breasts while his heel nearly flattened the other. She was still crying in pain when the foot suddenly became a knee - his shin slammed down across her shoulders, with his full weight behind it.

“ONE! TWO!” Marie began to count. God damn it, he was pinning her with one shin. Kim kicked furiously, tried to twist, tried to bend at the waist and kick him in the face, but he just leaned back a bit and kept almost casually kneeling on her shoulders.

“You know, the guys said to watch out for you. They said you were tough. I don’t know. I don’t see it,” he said, speaking for the first time.

Kim was furious - but also helpless. All her kicking and twisting was accomplishing was giving everyone a better view of her crotch. A thong bikini bottom was so empowering to destroy a male opponent in - but so humiliating to get pinned in.

Finally, the count reached ten, and Lucas stood up and extended his hand to help her up. She angrily slapped it away and leapt to her feet. He looked down at her and shrugged casually.

Marie reset them back to their positions. She flashed Kim a look. Kim wasn’t sure how to read it. Disappointment? Concern? “1-0. WRESTLE!” she instructed, slicing her arm down through the air between them.



Okay, Kim wasn’t going to be able to outwrestle this guy. He was just too big and too strong. But his jaw wasn’t strong, was it, now? As Lucas grabbed for the back of her neck, she gracefully ducked under his arms, bent at the knees, and came back up with a ferocious uppercut to his jaw. Her knuckles caught him right under the chin so hard she felt like she nearly broke her hand. His head whipped back as he stumbled backwards, and she came in after him, smashing a right fist into his solid abs, then a left, relishing at the grunts she could hear coming from above her.

She swung a high right hook at his jaw, trying to put him away - and her fist stopped cold. He had caught her wrist in his hand. He was staring at her, and he didn’t look casual anymore - he looked pissed. And then his own fist slammed directly into the center of her pretty face and everything went blurry as her eyes welled up with tears.

He kept punching her. Big, death-from-above punches. They were coming too fast for a counterattack. She managed to duck and dance away from the first two, but the third caught her on her left temple and for just a second she blacked out.

When Kim came to, she could feel herself being lifted. She was facing the ceiling, draped across Lucas’s strong shoulders. He had one hand gripping her chin and the other threaded between her legs, grabbing her smooth thigh. She rose, higher and higher. She started to panic. She was nearly seven feet in the air! “NO!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The room was turning - Lucas was turning beneath her. Kim found herself staring down at Russell, her victim from the last round. And just like her, poor little Deliah was draped over his shoulders in a painful backbreaker. Somehow, she knew Russell was pretending that Delilah was her. He was pretending his last match had ended like this instead of in the humiliating facesit.

“You, ready, bro?” asked Lucas.

“Ready,” Russell said enthusiastically.

“Here we go. Three… two… one…”

Suddenly Kim and Delilah were both wailing their surrender at the top of their lungs. Kim felt like Lucas was going to snap her spine as his hands pulled down on her chin and thigh and threatened to fold her in half, backwards. “GIVE!” she screamed “PLEASE! GIVE!!”

The Psi-U bleachers were erupting in screams and cheers. This tournament had been going horribly for them, and this display of absolute male dominance was exactly what they needed to see. Maybe they could still turn this thing around. These were just girls, after all.

Russell shrugged Delilah off his shoulders like a sack of garbage and she hit the ground, curling into a ball and audibly crying on the mats. Kim thought Lucas was about to do the same, but to his credit he lifted her off his shoulders and rolled her into his arms in front of him, before setting her down gently on her feet. “Well, good luck with your tournament,” he said dismissively before turning his back on her.

She scurried back to the Kappa bleachers, red-faced and humiliated. Amelia came running over with a bottle of water, but Kim slapped it away, and Amelia seemed to take the hint as she slunk away.

Kim sat on her bleacher and seethed as she rubbed her sore back. It was just her fucking luck to get matched with the biggest monster in the whole Greek system on her second round… but then her eyes narrowed. Well, it wasn’t luck, was it. Jenny Violet had custom-made the bracket.

As she thought about it, she realized it went even deeper than that. Yeah, Jenny had arranged things so that Kim, the only girl who looked better than her out there on the mats, would be eliminated in the second round. But for herself? Well, Jenny had given herself a bracket where she expected to destroy a helpless pledge, basically fuck her worst enemy’s boyfriend on the mats in front of her, go on to beat up that worst enemy, prove her dominance over Marie… and finally - well, she couldn’t have possibly known that Malayna would beat Bret. God damn, she had planned to finish strong by beating an exhausted Bret or Lucas after they’d taken all the fight out of each other.

That bitch. That selfish fucking bitch. Kim was going to pay her back. She wasn’t sure how, but she was going to pay her back.

[mixfightor]

Despite losing to the towering Lucas, Kim is still my vote for hottest contestant. The first part of this installment was utterly amazing.

It will be interesting to see where the Jenny Violet twist leads in the story.

Thank you so much for continuing this, mate.

[EricRRobert]

Originally Posted by mixfightor [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

Despite losing to the towering Lucas, Kim is still my vote for hottest contestant. The first part of this installment was utterly amazing.

It will be interesting to see where the Jenny Violet twist leads in the story.

Thank you so much for continuing this, mate.

Thanks, man!! Yeah, I had a last-minute change of plans. I had originally planned to release Kim vs. Lucas (maledom) as Part 12 and Grace vs. Seth (femdom) as Part 13 and post them on the same day.

But instead I decided that Kim vs. Russell was just too good to leave undescribed, so in the end I... wrote an entire story in past perfect tense. lol - I don't actually think I've ever read one of these stories in past perfect before, and I've read about a thousand of them.

And I think I'll actually skip right over Grace vs. Seth for now. I feel like, while it's a decent match, everyone's probably a lot more interested in heading over to Flight 4 now so we can see Malayna vs. Darren and Stephanie vs. Bret!

So then Part 15 will finally wrap back around to what I'm still thinking of as the main storyline - Jenny vs. Kyle and Billie vs. Natelie. Which I'll definitely tell in the same chapter.

That'll be the end of Friday night, so Part 16 will probably not feature any wrestling at all. It'll be a "That night..." chapter. And then Saturday's matches start on Part 17.

All plans are subject to change. lol

[Wildthing2001]

Man oh man I've just read like the last 5 chapters in a row , I try and stop and pace myself but I just can't stop. Great plot, story telling topped off with hot pics.I think you have my vote for best series in best stories competition , can't wait for next chapter...

[EricRRobert]

Part 13

Bret sat in the bathroom stall for a very long time, staring at his erect cock, wishing and willing and praying for it to go down. He wanted so badly to take it in his hand and pretend it was Malayna stroking him, but he fought with every bit of his mental strength to push those thoughts away. He could feel God’s eyes on him, gently but firmly scolding him. He had rolled around with a half-naked girl and this was his punishment.

He tried to focus on something else. He ran the offensive playbook in his head. I-Right 26 Power. Wing T-69 Bootleg Right. But he kept catching glimpses of other numbers - the ones written in black grease on his thigh - and every time he saw them his cock just got freshly stiff all over again.

“Go away!” he yelled aloud in frustration, slapping himself hard on the side of his erect shaft. He knew he had to clean off those numbers. But as he grabbed some toilet paper, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. His hand just wouldn’t move no matter how hard he willed it to.

There are plenty of reasons to call her that don’t involve lust, he rationalized. I might have questions for her. I might really need answers. He reached down for his phone before realizing it was still in his gym bag and he didn’t have anything to write with. So he just sat there, staring at the stall door and trying to think of nothing at all, until he finally went soft. Then he pulled his shorts up, crept cautiously out of the stall, quickly snatched his underwear, dashed back in, and finished getting dressed.

He considered his options. Should he just sneak out the back of the gym and run away? But then that one humiliating moment would be the whole story - that he entered a coed wrestling tournament and got his ass kicked by a girl half his size and got a size six foot shoved down his - no. No, don’t think about that. Please, please stop getting hard again.

There was really just no other choice. He had to go out there and he had to beat Stephanie, and then Tommy, and then two more guys, and then maybe everybody would just see his first match as an insane fluke. Maybe they’d forget about it, or at least have the decency not to talk about it.

Game face, he thought to himself sternly. Game face meant it didn’t matter if your dog had just died, or your truck wouldn’t start, or your sister was in the hospital. Game face meant being there for your team. And Psi Upsilon was also his team. Those were his brothers out there.

Game face. Bret picked himself up off the toilet seat and walked to the bathroom door, pausing briefly to pray. But he didn’t really know what to pray for. For the strength to beat up a girl? It didn’t seem right. For his cock to behave itself? It was just too vulgar. To turn back time an hour? That’s not how the big guy operates.

“Thy will be done,” he muttered, took a deep breath, and walked into the gym.



---

Stephanie had worked hard on her body. Incredibly hard. She had grown up a middle child in a family of six, with three older brothers and two younger ones. And while the oldest two usually ignored her, and the youngest was a sensitive little kid, the other two were bullies and tyrants. They’d shove her into walls or put her into leg locks or throw her in the pool with all her clothes on for no reason other than to prove they could.

So when she’d signed up for weight lifting as an alternative to P.E. when she started high school, she would picture her brothers’ arms every time she lifted the bar. She’d imagine locking hands with them across the coffee table and looking into their horrified eyes as she brought their knuckles to the wood. Or slowly forcing their hands down to the floor, feeling their arms tremble as they fought hopelessly to stop her. It became an almost obsessive fantasy for her.

And when she finally did it for the very first time a year later - pinned her older brother on their front lawn and then slapped him in the face until he cried - it was the happiest day of her life. From that moment on she wasn’t afraid of them anymore, and by the time high school ended, they knew way better than to mess with her. Sometimes she’d be the bully, tackling them out of nowhere as they came out of their bedrooms and wrapping them up in her legs and making them beg her for mercy before she’d release them.

At 135 pounds, Darren wasn’t any bigger than her brothers. So she’d attacked him confidently. She’d muscled him down and stuffed his head between her thighs and poured on the squeeze. She didn’t think anyone had ever fought so hard to get out of her headscissors. But no one had ever broken them, and he didn’t become the first.

But after that he’d turned out to be all armbars and joint locks and chokes and she’d never learned how to fight that way. And also he was a fucking psychopath. He kept snarling “You think you girls can just humiliate us??” like they hadn’t all just seen it happen like five times in the last hour. In the end she’d ended up bent backwards over his knee, screaming in pain while he struck her, over and over, right between the legs.

Truth is, though, everyone was more horrified by it than Stephanie was herself. They hadn’t grown up with her brothers. She’d been through worse.

Mostly she was just disappointed by her own performance. She’d gone 2-3 last semester and now she was 0-1. No matter how much she trained, genetics are genetics, and Stephanie was five feet tall and couldn’t seem to break 115 pounds no matter how much protein powder she shoveled down her throat. But there was no use whining about it. She just had to train harder and fight harder.

She wasn’t the prettiest of the Kappas or the most popular or the best student. What she was, was strong. So she’d trained especially hard for this tournament. So many late nights at the gym. For whatever reason, Jenny Violet wanted the Kappas to be known as the girls who could beat up the boys, and Stephanie was something of a boy-beater herself. What she really craved was to be one of the best. She really envied the way guys on campus looked at Jenny and Marie and Kim - all that lust tinged with fear. Those three were always completely in charge when they walked into a party. She wanted that so badly for herself.

So now, somehow, she was going to wrestle Bret. She still had no idea how Malayna had kicked the six foot tall, 210 pound football player’s ass. Stephanie was the one person in the whole sorority who hadn’t seen it happen - she’d been a little busy getting spanked in the pussy - and she just couldn’t imagine how it could be possible. But, you know what? If Malayna could beat a guy, surely she could take down that guy, too. And when she did, maybe she’d start getting the respect she deserved.

She stepped out onto the mat, determined if not entirely confident.



---

Bret had returned to the bleachers just as the third flight was wrapping up, and he hated what he saw. On one mat, Amelia had her breasts out in front of everyone; on two others, Russell and Lucas were completely bullying two girls to the point that one of them ended up curled up and sobbing, and on the fourth, poor Seth was getting absolutely schooled by some she-hulk of a Kappa pledge. He really, really regretted getting involved in this thing.

The matches wound down and Jenny Violet once again took the stage.

“Just in case you weren’t keeping score at home,” she smirked, “of the matches between Kappas and Psi-Us, the score is now: Kappas: 12! Psi-Us: 8! Are you boys going to ever start giving us any competition?”

Bret stared angrily. No. Don’t let anything get in your head. Game face.

“On to flight four!” she continued. “Mat one: Gina versus Hakeem! Mat two: Malayna versus Darren! Mat three: Amethyst versus Tommy! Mat four: Stephanie versus Bret!”

Bret stood and approached Stephanie at the center of his mat. He’d seen her at a couple parties before, but he didn’t really know her. She skipped most of them, and at the ones she did attend, she was really standoffish. But she’d always been fully clothed at those. Now, up close in her tight pink sports bra and gym shorts, he was seeing just how muscular she was for the first time. Unbelievably, her muscles were almost as big as his own.



He nodded to her. He wasn’t sure what to say. She was a foot shorter than him, but she was staring up at him like she saw him as an equal.

“Bring your best,” she said coolly. “You’re gonna need it.”

He glanced over at the mat across from his - he couldn’t help himself. He forgot to breathe for a moment as his eyes found Malayna. She was staring down Darren, and Darren’s cocksure grin was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he looked terrified. Wow, the kid looked like he was about to cry. What had she -

His cock was starting to twitch. He twisted his head back to face Stephanie. Don’t look over there!! GAME FACE! he thought angrily at himself.

“Um, yeah. You too,” he said.

Amelia took her place between them. At least she had her shirt back on.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. “Okay, you both know the rules by now. So… WRESTLE!”

Stephanie charged in immediately, audaciously trying to tackle the football player to his back. But Bret stepped in to meet her and caught both her wrists in his hands. She twisted and jerked them as she fought to get free, and as the two competitors danced around in a circle, soon enough their fingers were interlaced.

Bret pushed forward and down, trying to bend the little muscle girl’s wrists back and take her to her knees. But even with a full one-foot height advantage and the muscles straining in his arms, it was hard going. He couldn’t bend her wrists back at all. She wasn’t forcing him back, but he was barely making any progress against her, either. She was incredibly sturdy.

“NNNN!” he grunted, making a huge effort to put all his strength into taking her down - and suddenly he pitched forward, out of control. Stephanie had rolled right to her back, with her bare foot planted between his ribs. Bret cried out in alarm as she rolled onto her shoulders and he flew through the air, upside down for a terrifying second, before his back hit the mats hard. The cheering from the girls’ bleachers was deafening.

He tried to sit up, but her hard little body slammed him back down. She was already on top of him, facing his feet and wrapping her arms around his thighs. Her legs opened and slammed together. He barely had time to get his palms under them and push them up a bit to avoid getting his head smashed between them.

He tried to kick, but she had his thighs wrapped up but good. They felt like they might as well have been shackled together. And she kept shoving her legs down against his hands, snapping them together over and over, trying to catch his head. He knew she’d succeed eventually. Trying to act quickly, he torqued his body as hard as he could and rolled on top of her.

He was on top now, but he still couldn’t move his legs. He pushed himself up with one arm and reached back to try to separate her wrists. And then she finally caught him. In one smooth move, her bare thighs encircled his ears and her ankles locked behind his head.

“Ah -” Bret gasped. The pressure was incredible. He couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing. He felt like his skull was caving in. She was - she was going to crack it - panicked, he lifted his arm off the ground and tapped repeatedly on her thigh. Stephanie casually separated her legs, and he fell face-first to the mats between her legs, holding his ears with his teeth clenched together in pain.

“By headscissor submission, that’s 1-0 for Stephanie!” Amelia announced as Stephanie slid out from under him and leapt to her feet. “Bret? Are you okay?”

He was just starting to be able to hear again. He had a splitting headache. He rolled to his back and was greeted by the sight of his conqueror’s incredible thighs and ass.



His conqueror. Maybe he should have prayed for his cock to behave itself, because it really, really wasn’t. It was so hard it was twitching. And as he finally picked himself up from the mat, his shorts were hanging off it like a flag. Maybe nobody would notice.

“Nice salute,” Stephanie teased him. Amelia couldn’t help but giggle.

“You good?” asked Amelia.

“Yeah,” Bret said dejectedly.

“WRESTLE!” yelled Amelia.

Bret put his hands in front of him cautiously and circled his smaller opponent, looking for an opening. She swiped at him, and he jumped back.

“Scared of me?” Stephanie teased.

He glared at her. This was ridiculous. Of course he wasn’t scared. Angrily, he threw himself at her in a tackle. A tackle that had taken down three hundred pound men on the field.

Against a 115 pound girl, the results were predictable. He slammed her to the mats so hard the sound echoed through the whole gym. He saw the pain on her face and felt a pang of guilt. For a moment he’d forgotten himself. He’d just crushed a girl with a hit hard enough to shatter bones.

But, actually, all of her bones were completely fine - and that moment of hesitation gave Stephanie all the time she needed to throw her legs up again and wrap them around his waist. “NO!” he protested as her ankles locked behind him and his hands went to her knees, trying to separate them.

“No? You don’t believe it?” she teased as she tensed her hips and slowly ratcheted up the pressure. She’d always loved doing this to her brothers. Just as they thought they had her pinned, she’d crush them until they were begging for her mercy in under a minute.

Bret wasn’t her brothers, though. He was a lot stronger. And he was absolutely determined not to lose - not to get shut out by another girl half his size. He managed to slip his hands between her knees, and he was pulling with everything he had. His face was bright red and he was gasping for air.

For more than a minute, despite barely able to get more than the tiniest sips of air as she crushed him, he pulled, he twisted, he yanked - and finally, finally, he managed to get his waist to the other side of her knees. And from there, he was able to separate her ankles and stand, gasping and hunched over from the pain shooting through his ribs.

Stephanie rolled forward and leapt at him, trying to bring him down while he was still hurt. But even hurt, he was still twice her size. He caught her mid-charge, slammed her back down to the mats - and this time, twisted his body to the side so that when her legs came up they scissored nothing but air.

She pushed at his shoulder to lift him off of her, but he grabbed her wrist, and then turned his body across her chest. He managed to pull her other arm between his legs, then laid down across her shoulders, grabbing her wrist with both hands now. He had her in an inescapable cross-body pin.

“ONE! TWO!” counted Amelia.

“Okay, I give,” said Stephanie, almost casually. She wasn’t going to give Bret any more recovery time than she had to.

Bret got back up, red-faced and sweaty, gasping for air and wincing at the pain in his sides, and Stephanie leapt up to her feet in front of him, damp with perspiration but otherwise looking energetic.

“By a pin-to-submission, the score is tied 1-1!” announced Amelia. “Annnnnd… WRESTLE!”

“You’re beaten,” smirked Stephanie.

“I am not,” Bret protested.

She smiled, walked casually at him with her hands raised and her fingers spread. “Look at you,” she said. “You can barely even breathe. There’s nothing holding you up but adrenaline.”

Bret took a step back, suddenly afraid she was right. It was a strange sight, the big college athlete backing away from the little gym girl. The only part of him advancing toward her was his stiffening cock.

“Just - just wrestle me,” he said, backing up another step. It came out sounding like a whine.

Stephanie laughed. “I would, but you keep running away, loser!”

Anger flashed in Bret’s eyes. And this time, Stephanie was completely ready for the incoming tackle. It was much slower, clumsier. She wrapped her arm over Bret’s neck, grabbed her wrist with her other arm and twisted to the side, using his momentum to swing him in a full circle before she finally came to a stop. And now she had him in a headlock. One of her favorite bullying moves.

He was tugging ferociously at her forearm like an amateur. Stephanie realized that the big football player really had no idea how to wrestle. You can’t break a headlock that way; there’s no leverage. Even if he had been twice as strong as her - and he wasn’t - he’d need to be ten times as strong to pull that off.

“Told you were beaten,” she smirked. She dropped down to one knee, making sure there was no chance he’d knock her over. And then she started pouring on the pressure, crushing the big man’s throat between her bicep and forearm.

Bret was panicking. He couldn’t let her win like this - pulled into a headlock like a little kid having his lunch money stolen. And by a girl half his size!! It was almost like Malayna’s feet were right back in his mouth again. Infuriatingly, the more humiliated he got, the more his cock almost seemed to be trying to tear its way out of his shorts. He was getting nowhere pulling on her strong arm, so he twisted his body, tried to see if he could sort of screw his neck out of her hold.

Stephanie almost laughed in disbelief. Was he trying to turn himself upside down? Oh, he could just go right ahead and do that. She loosened up on the hold for just a second, then as his head turned, she clamped down hard, burying his face in her sweaty armpit.

“It’s almost like you wanted to sniff my pits,” she mocked him.

Bret couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t separate her arms. He couldn't do anything, bent over backwards with his face buried in sweaty armpit. His hands slapped pointlessly behind him at Stephanie's sides, at her hard butt. And then one hand came and pawed miserably on her shoulder.

“Was that a tap?” she asked.

“Mmm,” he managed.

“Bret, come on, she’s got you,” said Amelia. “Give me a real tap before you pass out.”

Bret’s hand hesitated, hovered over Stephanie’s shoulder, then - tap. Tap.

“YES!” Stephanie shouted in triumph. She dumped the big senior to his back, his face soaked in her armpit sweat, and slammed her foot down on his chest. Looking down at him, she struck a fierce double biceps pose. Oh my God, he was so hard. She bet if she poked that thing with her toe it would go off. Maybe he really did like the smell of her pits.

Then her eyes searched the room, making sure everyone was watching this. She made sure to lock eyes with Jenny. With Kim. With Marie, who had just stepped off the mats herself after refereeing. She wanted them to know she deserved every bit as much respect as them.

She performed one last flex and walked back to the bleachers, leaving the football player lying there gasping, covered in sweat, and afraid to even move lest he cum all over himself. Again.

[scissorgirl]

Loved this, thank you