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Younger sister domination
I can remember back when I was 14 years old and first pinned my
brothers. Being an only girl with two brothers was a bit difficult to say the least, but when I learned how to pin them, the pendulum swung in my direction. I was always tall for my age and lanky, with long strong legs. They got that way from horseback riding and running, and they served me well. I had long sandy hair, and although slightly athletic and tomboyish, I still enjoyed dressing up in skirts and dresses most of the time. My brothers teased me alot, especially my older brother. He teased me mercilessly, tormenting me, preventing me from building any real sense of confidence. My twin brother also teased me, but not to the same extent. We always played sports together, and wrestled a bit, but rarely in anger until we were both 12 or 13. We were really fighting about a game we were playing, and I found myslef on top, straddling him. He was smaller than me and was having a difficult time trying to dislodge me. I was quite amused at this and slid up higher on his stomach. He started to hit my legs, so I grabbed his hands and wrestled with them. Then something happend: by instinct I pulled up one of my knees and pinned one of his arms, then pinned the other with my other knee. I sat there amazed, hands on hips, looking down to what I've accomplished. He looked up stunned, pinned by his sister, and her arms were free! He struggled, whipping his legs around, bucking, thrashing his arms, but I stayed put. When he finally tired, I made him say give and got off. But the sheer power and rush of the moment stayed with me, filling me with confidence in my abilities. I pinned him quite frequently for awhile, assuring him it would be our secret. And suprise! No more teasing. My older brother is 3 years older. At that time he was 17 and a high school sophmore, I was 14 and a freshman. He was about 3 inches taller and bigger, although he wasn't a jock. He strutted aound the house like he owned it, though, and made me feel like crap. Many times he had me in tears. But the worm would soon turn. It was in the afternoon after school, I was watching TV on the couch,and still wearing my school uniform. Mom was at work and my twin brother was at his friend's house for the night. I was on the couch watching TV and by big brother Scott, who is at 17 was 3 years older than me, came in and switched the channel. "Hey, I was watching that" I said, and grabbed the remote and turned it back. He snatched the remote from my hands and turned the channel again. I jumped up and he played a game of keep-away with me, holding the remote aloft while I jumped for it. I finally gave up; he sat back on the couch and started watching his show. The phone rang and I picked up the cordless. It was for me, and I started talking to my friend. My brother tried to quiet me down, he couldn't hear the TV, but the more he tried, the louder I became. He finally jumped up and grabbed the phone, tossing it behind the couch into the dining room. Our dining room was rather large, with only the table inside – the chairs had not yet arrived from the furniture store. The door was a wooden sliding door, two sliding doors actually, that slid together to meet at the center. The odd part of the set-up was that they locked from outside the dining room. I ran inside to get the phone, and he was right behind me, grabbed both sides of the door to try to slam them shut. I stopped suddenly, realizing what he was about to do, turned, and grabbed his shirt just as he slammed the doors together, catching my shoulders. I pulled him hard against the doors, and he pulled equally hard on the doors, still against my shoulders. We were at a stalemate, but I knew his arms were stronger, and I had to do something quick lest get locked in the dining room until mom came home. I kicked at his right calf; the impact knocked him off balance, and with my pulling on his shirt he came lurching forward into me, crashing together and falling towards the floor. We both hit the floor on our sides, hard, him a little harder than me, and I heard him grunt as he got a of the little wind knocked out of him. I lay on the floor facing him, lifted my right leg up and threw it around his waist and pulled myself upon top, straddling his midsection. It's always important to get the upper hand quickly, because now he has to expend that much more energy and strength than if we started out equal. It's amazing what an angry girl will do, the kind of strength that can be summoned in times like this. He immediately tried to rise up, pushing himself up on his hands behind him. I pushed myself up higher on his stomach and, with both hands, knocked his right arm out from under him, sending him back down. He was flat on his back. Both his arms now sprung out in front of him. Any thought he had about lifting himself up was replaced with that of survival. Our hands locked together. I slid my bottom up his torso, bit by bit, our hands still locked, and he thrust his leg up, his knee striking my back hard. I slid all the way up to his chest, realizing I had to immobilize his arms, and freed my left hand and with both hands, grabbed his left hand and slammed it on the floor, pinning it with my right thigh. I grabbed his right hand with both hands, but he managed to lock his fingers above his head. I lifted my left leg, resting on my foot with knee in air and pushed my left knee against his right biceps. Now I had two arms and hands plus one knee pushing his arm, trying to drive it down. His face had a look of panic as his fingers slowly lost their grip, finger by finger, and parted, my knee driving his arm down hard and pinning it firmly to the ground. I shifted my body up higher on his chest and spread my legs a little. He now thrashed his legs like a madman, a bug that had been flipped over on its back, trying desperately, and in vain, to right itself. I slide higher up on him, his head now tight between my thighs. As he continued to thrash, I strengthened my grip on him, bending his arms inward so my calves pinned his biceps and my knees pinned his wrists. His arms were now completely immobilized. I sat there, hands on my thighs, and looked down at him, catching my breath, blowing the hair out of my face, amazed that I was able to pin him so quickly, and how he was so helpless under me. I continued to stare at him. His eyes met mine momentarily, then darted away as he thrashed even more wildly, screaming and cursing. I kept on staring; still amazed that I had my older brother, who was bigger and stronger, in a tight pin, and there was nothing he could do about it. I pressed down hard on his arms with my legs, and moved my crotch up to his chin, shutting his mouth. My thighs closed tight against his face, keeping his focus on me, not letting him turn away. I placed my arms against the dining room table, which was directly in front of us, and placed my forehead on them, leaning over and looking down, square at my brothers panicked, red face. Now I have read that in some cases, people become enamored with certain body parts and their abilities. Singers worship their own voices to the extent that they sing to themselves just to experience the beauty of it. Baseball pitchers and football quarterbacks treat their arms as if a child, nurturing it and caring for it. My gifted appendages are my legs. The keep me running like the wind, and supply power to leap, and as such I treat them like gold, with daily workouts and treatment. I have never been so proud and amazed at them as I was this moment, looking down at them framing my brother's face, rendering his arms useless, keeping him in total control. I was amazed at the way I could administer punishment with a subtle squeeze of the thighs, or a gentle grind of the calf. Soon he ceased his thrashing and relaxed his body, looking up to me like a hopelessly whipped puppy dog. I sat there for a few seconds, then slowly leaned back, pulled my hair out of my face and pulled it behind my ears, then rested my hands on my thighs. I wanted to show him how much in control I was, that I was able to pin and control him and keep my hands free. I looked down at his pathetic face and said "Give?" sweetly, with a smile. I pulled back a little from his chin to let him respond; he spewed some vulgarities, so back against the chin I went. "Shhh, shhh, no swearing! I can stay here all day" I said mockingly, resting my hands on my hips in a defiant, superior way. I've come to love this stance. Whenever I pinned him in the future, I would sit like this and stare down at him, sometimes for minutes on end. I decided to have some fun for little more at this point, bouncing on his chest, slamming my crotch against his chin so I could here and feel his teeth rattle, tickling him a little so he would start thrashing agai, then force him to stop. I pinched his cheeks, then slapped them until they had a little red spot on them. I was reveling in my new found power and dominence. In the driveway I heard a door slam. It was mom. It's amazing how he changed his tune, begging me to let him up. The door opened. His face bore the frantic look of a condemned man about to get shot, or at least of a scared boy whose mom was about to find him beaten by his little sister, pinned to the floor like a butterfly specimen. "Is anyone home?" mom yelled from the murder. "In here, mom!" I replied, never taken my eyes off my brother. I loosened my thighs a bit, listened to him grovel and beg, slid back, slapped him hard on each cheek with the palm of my hands, then a pinch on each, jumped up and ran up the stairs as mom walked around the corner. "Hi honey, what are you doing here in the dining room…." Her voice trailed as I shut my bedroom door, laughing to myself. My brother never forgot the humiliation of me pinning him. His only consolation was that we were alone with no witnesses. After my first triumph over him, he stopped talking to me for about a week, and acted moody around me after that. He really didn't want to look at me, but every time we were in the same room, I could sense his anger. It kept building as each day passed, and I felt he was ready to erupt. That day came. It was my fourteenth birthday, and I was in a great mood. Mom was still at work and my twin was upstairs listening to music on his Walkman, playing video games on the Nintendo. My older brother was lying on his back, watching T.V, sprawled on the family room floor. I needed to pass, and walked up to him. He looked at me, or rather through me, and looked away. I walked around him by his feet when he lifted up his leg and tripped me. I hit the floor and he was upon me, on my back trying to spin me to my stomach. Now if my brother and I had an arm wrestling match, he would win. Same with tug-of-war. I knew that to beat him I would have to outsmart him, use leverage, and of course, take advantage of my legs. On my back he had a distinct advantage. He kept snarling that it was now his turn to teach me a lesson, he was going to make me beg, how does it feel? I knew that I had to think quickly. I let him spin me on my back, and he moved up and sat on my stomach while wrestling with my hands. He smiled down on me, confident of a victory that would negate, in his mind, his defeat. After all, I must have only caught a break. He moved a little up my stomach towards my chest. I was fairly well developed, and he was apprehensive about sitting on my chest. From this position, he could overpower my hands. Usually the person on top has this advantage. But I did have a plan. "You..give...yet?" he smirked down at me our hands still locked, slowly pushing mine back. I smiled up at him and whipped my legs up. Not only do I have long, strong legs, but I am also quite limber. I caught his throat with my feet. His expression changed from smug to fear in a second as it disappeared from my view, my legs slamming him down on his back. Now I knew I had to move quickly. In what seemed a split second I was on him sitting on his chest. He rose weakly, but in one moment I hit his chest hard with my open palms, sending him back to the floor, then I leapfrogged myself onto his chest, slamming my calves onto his biceps, pinning him down once again. He started kicking his legs, trying to emulate what I had done, but he has neither my legs nor flexibility. His arms were waving in vain, much like the useless upper arms of the T. Rex. I was still angry at this point and felt he needed a harsher lesson than before. I grabbed his hands, lifted myself up with my thighs oh-so-slightly and pinned his wrists between my thighs and calves. I slid higher up on his chest so my lower calves were pinning his shoulders, and clamped my thighs hard around his face, causing his face to turn candy apple red, and his forearms to twist a little. I looked down at his face, put my finger to my lips. "Shh, shhh, quiet, quiet, quiet now, quiet now, it's all over, Scotty, I win again." I smiled smugly at him and leaned down, putting my hands on my knees. He looked up at me, this time disbelief replacing the anger in his eyes, and stopped kicking his legs. His body weakened, and it slowly sunk in that I had beaten him, even though he had an advantage, and I again had him pinned down, this time more securely than before. I sat back up, shook the hair out of my face and pulled it back behind my ears, delicately straightened out my skirt, placed my hands on my hips and looked down at him with a smile. My mind was flush with disbelief: I had beaten him again, and this time it was fair and square. I beat up my big brother fair and square! What a feeling! A car pulled in the driveway. Scott wriggled a bit, but I tightened my grip on him and shook my head slowly with a smile. No, this time I'm not letting you up. You need to be taught some humility. The door opened. "Hello!" "In here, mom!' Scott's eyes filled with fear. Mom walked in, I turned to her, smiled proudly, hands still on hips. She looked at the sight in front of her, her oldest son on the ground, flat on his back, her daughter straddling his chest, pinning his arms firmly to the ground, her pleated schoolgirl skirt neatly tucked under his chin. She looked down at Scott, and then at me. She smiled. "What's going on here?" she asked sweetly. "We had a fight. I won. Again." I said beaming. I looked down at my brother. His eyes were moist. "Right, Scott?" I jammed my crotch hard against his chin and pressed down harder on his arms, then released him. "Yes," came his meek reply. "Yes what, Scotty?" I asked mockingly. Scott looked up at me, his red eyes almost pleading with me for mercy. I couldn't help it. I was consumed with power, and it had an enormous effect on me. It wasn't enough that I had him pinned and subdued, I wanted to humiliate him. "Yes, you beat me up again." I patted his cheek, (good boy,) then turned back to mom and smiled at her. I was so proud of myself. "So that's where the bruises on his arms came from." Mom said, giggling. "Dinner will be ready in a half hour. Will you let him up by then?" she was still giggling. I looked down at my brother. "Sure, mom." And I clicked on the TV and watch `till supper. When I let him up for dinner, his face hung low like a beaten dog. He had no idea what was in store for him. "It's a sad, sad, world, when a girl will break a boy just because she can." prt3 The first time I pinned my brother, he thought it was a fluke, that when he had the wind knocked out of him it created an unfair advantage for me, allowing me to pin him. The second time he thought I got lucky, that I caught a break by catching him off guard. But however he rationalized them, he knew that both times, once I had him securely pinned, it was over. And he also knew that once I was astride of his stomach, our hands wrestling, he would be pinned. I could see the fear the second time that I pinned him. He knew what I was capable of, and it troubled him. He walked around on eggshells after the second time, still teasing me a little, his swagger still evident, just not as pronounced as before. He had definitely changed. He flinched from me a couple of times, and didn't challenge me as much. Once while I was pinning my twin brother, Scott walked by. I smiled up at him and said, "look familiar?" He turned red, looked away and left in a hurry while I giggled. Now I could sense the tide turning in my direction, and I had to ride the momentum. I had to show him I could pin him at will. I was the playground after school.I was still wearing my school clothes, a white blouse, short gray pleated skirt and black tights. Me and two of my friends were just hanging out, talking, when over at the parking lot a car pulled in. my brother got out and came over. His girlfriend, who was a year older than me, got out of the car and stood by it. The car was too far away to see who was driving, but I assumed (and later confirmed) that it was her mom. "Mom wants me to bring you home." It wasn't altogether true. Someone had to go home and start dinner. Scott wanted to drop me off at home so he could go over to his sweeties house and make out. I, meanwhile, wanted to hang out with my friends until Janies mom came and gave me a ride. "No. You go make dinner. I'm staying. Janies mom will take me home." We went back and forth on this. He really wanted to have some time with his girlfriend. But my reasoning behind my argument had changed. I challenged him for the sake of challenging him. It was beyond who would start dinner. I wanted to test my newfound confidence. I stood up and gave him a shove. "Make me." By now his girlfriend was walking over. I shoved him again. "You want me to come, make me. Or do you want me to kick your ass here?" His eyes looked a little scared, but with people watching, he couldn't back down. He grabbed my arm and said, "Let's go." What happened next will be forever engraved into my memories. I spun his arm around, planted a foot behind him and shoved him backward over my leg, sending him crashing to the ground. In a blur I was upon him, pushing him onto his back, sitting astride of his stomach and gripping his hands. I saw the look in his eyes. He knew he would be pinned. I let him struggle for a second or two, toyed with him a bit, then slid up higher onto his chest, lifting my right knee first, pinning him one arm at a time. I held his hands out above his head on the ground and looked down at him. I then slid higher up on his chest and pinned his wrists with my knees, the crotch of my tights pressed against his Adams apple, my shins pinning his biceps. He thrashed and bucked more wildly then ever before; there was now an audience including his girlfriend, watching his little sister pinning him. I looked down at his face, once impressive and sinister, now helplessly pinned between my nylon clad thighs. My hands rested on my thighs as I stared at him, riding his wild bucking body, avoiding his thrashing legs. I smiled down at him a little, shook my head and grinded his biceps with my shins, and his wrists with my knees, my arms pushing down on my thighs. I pushed my crotch into his throat, causing him to gag a little. He winced in pain, trying to stifle his grunting, and slowly stopped struggling. I sat up, my hands now on my upper thighs, turned to my girlfriends and smiled. They were looking at us, their mouths slightly open, Janie giggling a little. I looked at Scott's girlfriend who was just staring at the whole scene. She had a blank stare on her face and I swear I saw a slight smirk. She folded her arms on her chest, turned to yell to her mother to wait at the car, then turned back and watched. Cars were driving by, people peering out the window to gawk at the scene. It seems that the schoolgirl pin mesmerizes everyone, male or female. I looked back down on my brother. My hair had now fallen out of its barrette, and I pulled it out, letting my long hair fall around my shoulders. I asked Janie for elastic, and her water bottle, she walked over and handed them to me, never taking her eyes of my brother's face. I leaned back and put my hair into a ponytail, then casually twisted the top of the bottle and sipped from it. I looked down at my brother, who probably thought I had forgotten about him, and dripped some water on his face, causing him to gurgle a bit. My friends laughed, and I caught his girlfriend covering her mouth. I carefully placed the water next to me, placed my hands on my knees and bent over him, staring at him. The arrogance had disappeared from his eyes, the swagger gone from his lips. In its place was fear and defeat. I pressed down with my legs on his arms hard. His eyes were moist now, and two tears rolled down each side of his face. I smiled down at him. "I win again, right?" I said softly. He nodded. "Now I don't want to hear your hassling again, understand? No teasing, no bossing, nothing. `Cuz I think that I proved that I can pin you whenever I want. And wherever I want. And if you give me any shit, I'll pin you again and again. At Christmas. In front of your friends. On your birthday. In front of gramma. Understand, Scotty?" He nodded meekly. I raised my eyebrow and tilted my head. He was almost crying now. I relaxed my legs, grabbed his hands and sat back a little on his chest. I spread my legs releasing his head, and now my thighs and shins pinned his shoulders and biceps. I placed his hands to each side and let them go. They fell harmlessly to his side, not daring to fight. He was totally submissive now, knowing full well he was completely beaten, pinned and dominated by his little sister. His tear stained eyes looked up at me, then away at his girlfriend, who looked away. I sat there with my hands on hips, looking down at him, then at my friends. They were sitting on the picnic table, eyes transfixed on what had happened, smiles on their face. His girlfriend now looked uncomfortable at us, but didn't stop looking, or help. I looked at my pathetic, submissive, beaten brother, and almost felt sorry for him. But I didn't. I slapped his cheeks softly, then a little bit harder. I pinched his nose, twisted it a little until he screamed. I had Janie tell a joke, then tickled him, making him laugh so hard he was out of breath, his eyes watering. I let my left arm rest across my thighs, and tapped his chest hard with my right forefinger. I looked around, thinking. It wasn't enough that I pinned him and heard him acknowledge defeat. I needed to completely break him. I needed a declaration, kind of a signed surrender. I reached down and pulled some grass, casually sprinkling on his face to help me think. My face broke into a mischievous grin as I thought of what I was going to do. I pulled more grass and rolled it up in my hand. I then pulled a few pine needles and did the same, rolling them up in a tight ball and wrapping a leaf around them. I moistened this with my saliva until it resembled a mini enchilada, showed it to him and said "Prove you surrender. I want you to swallow this." His eyes bugged out of his head, and he started to swing his head from side to side. "I can wait." I said, placing one hand on my hip, the other holding the salad. "I can wait until Janies mom comes, and have her watch me force you to eat it, or you can be a good boy and eat it on your own." Lower lip trembling, he looked around like a scared rat, then up at me and slowly opened his mouth. I smiled and placed it in his mouth. He closed his eyes and chewed it, then started to swallow. I took the water bottle, placed my hand behind his head and lifted it and placed the bottle opening to his lips. He looked up and took a few sips, then swallowed the grass completely. I gently lowered his head back to the ground. "Let me see." He opened his mouth obediently. I made sure it was all gone. I smiled at him again, hands on hips, "that wasn't so bad!" Tears were now streaming down his cheeks. I looked at the grass and dirt stains on my knees from pinning him. "My knees are dirty. Clean them off, and I'll let you up." He did as he was told, reaching up with his hands and wiped the dirt off my knees. I smiled down at him. I had broken him. Janies mom then pulled into the parking lot and I patted his cheek and stood up, looked down at him and smiled, then walked off with my girlfriends. He never bothered me much after that. He was a good boy. But I enjoyed my dominance and the new role I had won. Of course I continued to pin him. Once, I even chased him down and caught him in front of his friends, pinning him down with ease. But that's a story for another time. Thank you for your kind comments, and let me reassure you, the stories are true, gleaned recently from my journals, which I have kept since I was 8 or 9. |
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Re: younger sister domination
Absolutely fantastic to read, thanks for sharing this with us. I feel humiliated because by alpha older sis can defeat me. I can't imagine how emasculated your older brother must feel.
It sounds like you mainly dominate with the schoolgirl pin. Do you use any other holds on either of your hapless brothers? |
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Re: younger sister domination
brodin
Is this story a re-post, or are you the original author? |
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Re: younger sister domination
A very good story! Love her attitude!
Who is the author, Brodin? Can we maybe find other stories by him/her? |
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Re: younger sister domination
I remember reading this at sgpinned.
[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register] They credit Cindyhoney |
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Re: younger sister domination
I think Cindy Honey originally posted this story and several others to the yahoo group "women_straddling" in 2007. since then the group has been deleted, and reformed again. I have reposted many of the Cindy Honey stories in the files section of the new group. I can post them here if there is interest or they can be read at ([Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register])
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Re: younger sister domination
Thanks, ddelurker! Please, do post some of those stories, as my membership is pending approval to the mentioned group
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Re: younger sister domination
A fine line... cyndihoney2001
We were sitting around in my bedroom, which is actually quite large. It was myself, two girlfriends, Tess and Andrea, and Andrea's younger brother, Zach, who was at the time 17 and a senior in high school. He had come to visit his sister, to see what college was like for the weekend. We were just hanging out for the afternoon, planning to go to a few parties that evening. We were discussing the incident in the park, laughing and joking about it, Zach just watching saying nothing. Every now and then he would look in my direction, but mostly he would look about the room, acting disinterested, as if the entire discussion was beneath him. When he did look over at me it was with an air of thinly veiled contempt, but I did notice his eyes wandering to parts of me other than my eyes. Now at the time I had a boyfriend, but I was quite flattered with the way that Zach kept looking over at me, at my legs, among other parts. I may act aloof at times, but I do appreciate attention now and then. Finally he broke his silence. He said that there was no way a girl could beat up a guy, especially if he was bigger, or even the same size. He was being arrogant as most high school boys are, trying to impress. He doubted my story, claiming that I must have made it up, or at least the guy was more drunk than I had let on. We went back and forth a bit, then he made the statement I knew was inevitable: he claimed that I couldn't even beat him. Now I knew that he had challenged me with the hopes in copping a feel, but in fact I was intrigued at the notion of wrestling a good- looking 17 year old boy myself, and agreed to wrestle him to submission. I admit I was a little bit worried, because I had never wrestled a guy based on a challenge; it has always been spontaneous, and I was able to use the spontaneity to my advantage. But Zach and I were about the same height, he perhaps an inch taller, and although he was no weakling, he was no jock either. So we cleared the furniture to the sides of the room and both set upon proving our respective points. With my two girlfriends watching, we both got on our knees and set the rules. No choke holds no hair pulling and no groin kneeing. The match ends when someone says, "give". We started with a wrestling hold, one on all fours, and the other on knees, hands on the opponents' arms. Zach said he would give me an advantage, being a girl; he would be on all fours. I could start on top. I welcomed his cockiness. Someone said "go" and we commenced wrestling. Neither of us got a clear advantage right away. I was surprised at how strong he was, but more surprised at my own strength, especially the strength in my legs. We flipped each other a few times, each of us trying to get in a position as we rolled around on the floor. At this point I really wasn't trying to beat him, only to keep things moving, to wear him out. I was able to keep up with him and at the same time could sense him tiring after about ten minutes. Finally I was on my stomach and he was on my back, his hands grabbing my elbows, trying to force me on my back. I relaxed a little, letting him do all of the work while I caught my breath. My legs were spread, resting, yet preventing him from flipping me. When I could feel him tiring, I rolled slowly on my side and then quickly, with a burst from my legs, flipped him over on his back hard, me on my back on top of him, almost knocking the wind out of him. He released his grip and I spun around on him, almost lying flat on him, and grabbed his wrists, pulling his arms out above his head. Now at this point I was straddling him low in the stomach, my body at about 45 degrees, his arms pinned high above his head. He still had strength in his legs, though, and I knew that I needed to immobilize them. I did a move I had never done before. I slid my own legs back and sort of wrapped them around his, my ankles locking his calves, pushing his legs out and preventing him from moving them. My body was now working as one muscle as my hands had his arms pinned hard, and my legs had his legs frozen. I looked down at his face. He no longer had that teenage cockiness about him; he was genuinley surprised and a bit frightened. I smiled and said, "give"? He squirmed a little to no avail. I had him locked up good. Then I felt something, something that sent a shiver through me and my whole body tensed up. I turned to my friends and had them leave; I told them he would not submit with them in the room. They dutifully left, closing the door. I looked back down at my frightened prey. The tone of the battle had changed. Even though he was in pain, and felt humiliated, Zach was obviously excited. I could feel his erection through his jeans, and the thought of turning someone on by beating them had made me wildly excited. I switched my grip on his wrists so that now my right hand held his right, and vice-versa. This way I could pull my hands slowly outward, causing him pain and reminding him that I was still in charge. I started teasing him, fluffing my hair in his face, rubbing up a little more against him, all the while spreading his legs and twisting his arms, so that he received a healthy dose of pain with his pleasure. The thought of totally dominating a guy while bringing him pleasure at the same time drove me over the edge. It brought me to a level of excitement and arousal I had not felt before. By this time I had thought he was going to burst out of his jeans, and I was going to steam my shorts off, so I decided that I needed to move ahead. I wanted to give him relief, but I wanted to control his relief, let him know that I was allowing him to come. I slowly slid back onto his penis, which by now was pointing down towards his feet, if they were not spread wide by my legs. Now the only material between my clitoris and his penis were my cut-offs and his jeans. I continued to twist his arms as I pushed down slowly on his penis, slowly so he would last and I would receive pleasure also. I looked down at him and finally spoke, asking if he gave yet. He of course could not speak; his mouth sort of parted, like he was trying to speak, but nothing came out. I could tell that he could not give nor utter a sound until he came, no matter how much his shoulders and legs hurt. I moved forward a bit off of his penis, causing him a totally different pain, and smiled down at him. I pulled my arms outward a little more so that now his biceps were almost straight up next to his head and his forearms were bent so that his wrists were over their opposite shoulders. His eyes were tearing a little, and I was so hot at this point that my lust and desire had taken control of my body. I slid back, slowly, watching his eyes roll back into his head, then closing. I pushed down a little more, and out of his mouth came, at first a barely audible whimper, then a cringe of pain, then grunt in pleasure as he came. I pushed down even harder, concentrating now on my own pleasure, pushing hard until the wave crashed over me as my body, still acting as one muscle, now tensed up as one, my legs tightened around his and my hands gripped his wrists like a vice and I started to quiver a little, breaking out in a cold sweat. It wasn't the same pleasurable feeling as actual penetration; maybe more of an aftershock, but sometimes aftershocks register high on the Richter scale. I rode the wave as best I could, feeling ripples of pleasure throughout my body, struggling to maintain control on top of him. Finally, the wave pulled back and I looked down at him. His eyes were open half-mast as if he were drunk, his entire body limp. A droplet of sweat, which was beading up on my face, fell into his eye, and his eyes closed again in pain. I released my legs at this point, sliding me rear easily up onto his chest, releasing his arms and pinned them securely under my legs; his wrists pinned by my knees. I moved my legs in slightly so my thighs brushed his cheeks. I covered his eyes with my hand and thrust my crotch into his chin, gasping at one last jolt of pleasure. I grabbed the sill with my other hand so I wouldn't collapse as my body shuddered again. I looked down at his face, framed by my bare moist thighs. The sweat from my thighs had rolled down onto his face. I reached for a water bottle and sprinkled some water on his face, not to cool him off, but to remind him of whom was still in control. I took a sip, cooling myself off by wiping the bottle over my face and looked down at him again. He dared not speak. I wiped the remaining droplets of sweat from my thighs and gently brushed my hands on his face, covering it with more of my sweat. He meekly submitted, whispering "I give" soo low that I had to read his qtrembling lips to understand him. I slowly stood up and looked down at his sweat stained shirt, soaked by my rear and legs. He slowly get to his feet, and I told him that he had better change his pants. My expression was blank as I spoke. I didn't want him to think that he brought me pleasure. I had used him for my pleasure while controlling his. He was very obedient and attentive that night, not at all the kid I had met that afternoon. He brought me drinks at the party, never spoke back, never disrespectful. And I just about ignored him. That night I called my boyfriend, requesting that he came to spend the following weekend with me. I had a surprise in store for him. |
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#9
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Re: younger sister domination
Boyfriend
CindyHoney I had a boyfriend, and when he found out that I could beat up my brothers, he was, let's say, mildly intrigued. He knew my older brother and had a rather difficult time believing that I could pin him, so he challanged me. Now I have found that when a male and female wrestle, one of three things usually happens. The male lets her win and enjoys it, she wins on her own and he still enjoys it, either at the time or later thinking back upon it, or she wins and he hates it. I know that there is a fourth, that the male wins, but he usually quits gallantly before the end. Anyway, against my better judgement, I agreed to wrestle my boyfriend. We started out on the floor (of course) and he was laughing and sort of playing. Now I always despised a condensending attitude amongst men, and his only made my competitive juices boil. I used his nonchallant methods to my advantage, and was soon straddling him. I guess he thought it would end there, but I pinned him good, and dared him to escape. When he found he couldn't, his demeaner slipped to anger, and he started thrashing wildly. I probably posed more than I should have, but I did let him up when I saw that a line had been crossed. He was very angry, and left. He called later, jokingly appologizing (saving face), and challanged me again, a "rematch". Again, against my better judgement, I accepted, only because of his persistance, and to put this behind us. This time he was hell bent on winning ( we were about the same size. I was tall for my age), and cheated a little, grabbing fistfulls of hair, twisting arms, etc. Anyway, when he pulled these stunts, it angered me and I was determined not to let him win. Now I had been taking Tae Kwon Do at this time, and into track and volleyball, and my awkwardness had been replaced by a certain gracefullness and athleticism. Because of this, and because he was so blind with anger, I was able to pin him a second time, this time at his house. His mom came downstairs and saw us, and only because she was there was I able to leave the house untouched. He broke up with me that night, and the next few weeks telling friends that the reason was because I was not really a "lady", calling me "butch", etc. That hurt me. I started to doubt myself, and to that end, I quit the track team (but not Tae Kwon Do) and started dressing (ahem) sexier, short skirts, etc. I stopped pinning my twin, stopped beating guys, period. Of course everything changed once I went to college. It's a world away from highs chool, and I no longer worried nor cared about peoples false perceptions. I could run track for the intermural team, beat a guy, and he would have no problem dating me afterwards. I felt good and confident about myself again |
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#10
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Re: younger sister domination
My re-introduction to the joy of the pin cyndihoney2001
I hadn't pinned a guy in over three years. After a negative experience pinning my boyfriend, I had concluded that maybe I was getting too old for this. So I stopped pinning my brothers. And I didn't wrestle, not even for play, until I was 20. It was right before my junior year, and some girlfriends and myself were taking a drive up the coast on the 1. We stopped along the way, and found a large, rambling park. The park was pretty deserted, a couple having a picnic, a guy playing Frisbee with his dog, and a group of guys over near a group of trees. Now being female, and 20 years old, we decided to walk over, but the closer we got, the more we realized that they had probably been drinking most of the day. When we were within speaking distance, we decided that it wasn't a good idea to hang around and turned. They called us over anyway, and being bored, we went over. They were our age, doing the same thing we were, hanging before school. They also had a pretty good buzz going, and when they offered us some, after some brief conversation, and we declined. One of them was more belligerent then the others, taunting a little. "C'mon, sweetheart, just one beer? You a Mormon or something?" Now I know my nickname is Cyndihoney, but that comes from my mom. I detest being called "Hon" or "Sweetie" by complete strangers. It rankles me to hear it, and I made a crude, snide remark to him. He sauntered over, until we were about a foot apart and said " Sorry, Hon, I didn't mean anything by it". At the time I was wearing a biker hat,(to go with my biker look) and he grabbed it by the bill, ripping it off my head, backpedaling while waving it at me. "If you give me a kiss, you can have your hat back." He said. Now there was no way I was going to kiss him, but I wasn't going to leave without my hat. Looking back, I probably should have written it off and left; there's never telling what might happen in these situations, and I would hate to wind up as a victim on "America's Most Wanted". I was 20, however, had a bit of arrogance in myself, and a slight dash of stupidity in these situations. Come to think of it, I'm still like that. I don't like to back down or take shit from anyone. He was about an inch or two taller than I was, not muscular, but not scrawny. My instincts, calling from my teen years, told me I could take him, but my common sense said that this wasn't a boy, he was a man, and I might not have much of a chance like I used to. I did, however, have a plan. I walked over to him and said sure, I'll kiss you on the cheek. He stood there and offered me his cheek, his hands holding my hat behind his back. I puckered and leaned over to kiss him. Now normally I abhor violence. I never hit in anger, and have been taught to only use martial arts in defence. In fact, the best defense is often walking away from confrontation. So I had no idea what prompted my next actions. I believe it was my refusal to back down to this drunk, and also a bit of smug self-confidence that made me quickly step to the side, spin and elbow him hard in the area between his chest and stomach. He grimaced as the air rushed out of him, and his arms and hands instinctively came forward, allowing me to grab back my hat. As I turned to my friends, he swung out at me with his left hand, hitting my shoulder and tripped me, calling me a bitch. Now I believe I probably should have expected the reaction, but it still took me by surprise, and my anger boiled as I jumped to my feet. "Stupid bitch" His bravado stood tall. I walked towards him. He sort of sneered at me. "Awe, you still want to kiss me, sweetie? OK, babe, but if you try that again, I'll knock you down again" I couldn't believe he was challenging me. His friends laughed, goading him on while my friends were telling me to leave it alone, let's leave. Now I brought this mess upon myself in the first place, and I probably should have walked away, but something inside of me, a ghost from the past, was telling me that not only could I kick this guys ass, but I should kick his ass. I smiled and stuck out my hand and apologized. He stuck his out with an arrogant smile, looked over to his buddies, and I grabbed it and threw him to the ground, face first. I landed on his back hard, driving his face into the ground. He started to push himself up, and I grabbed his arm and twisted it back by the thumb. Now I had two distinct advantages here: Number one, he was drunk. Number two, I was sober. That means that I was able to surprise him, and my reflexes were quicker than his were. I was straddling his back with his arm twisted behind it, my hand twisting it by the thumb. My other hand pushed hard at the base of his head, driving his face into the ground. At this point his buddies were cheering him on and laughing, enjoying the spectacle. My friends were cheering me on, and were laughing at the guy, not the situation. I spun him around to his side, twisting his arm, forcing him on his back. After a brief struggle, I had him on his back and grabbed his wrists. I knew his right arm was sore, but his left had fight. The look on his face was panic. I was sliding higher up on his stomach, and he thrashed about. The guys started to quiet down, then drew silent as I took control of his hands. This really got me going, because we both knew he was going to get pinned. I felt again the rush, power and control I had last felt 3 years before, and it filled me with a resurgence of empowerment. I loved this. I was staring at his face the whole time, watching it go from anger to surprise then panic in seconds. My face was calm determination. He started to twist a little, trying to get back on his stomach. I knew what he was thinking. He knew he was going to lose, but better to lose on the stomach then lose pinned on the back. His twisting helped me with his arms. By twisting, he actually had one of his arms planted hard on the ground. I quickly took advantage of this and pinned it with my left knee, then slid my leg a little higher up so my shin pinned his arm. I could now work on his other arm with two hands. It was no contest. His other arm fell like a mighty oak, crashing to the ground as my right shin pinned it hard. I spread my legs wide so my shins had his arms pinned almost at the elbow, and I gripped his wrists firmly. I continued to stare down at his face, not saying a word. When a guy gets to this point, he knows he has to fight back to save face. But the more he fights, the more rapidly he tires, and the more controlled he becomes. I had always thought that if my brothers had learned this, and when the pin was imminent just let it happen, they might have enough strength to throw me if they caught me off guard. But the male psyche will never let this happen. Time and time again, they will never submit, keep fighting until they tire which always results in a more secure pin, and a more subdued victim. And here was no exception. He arched his back high in an attempt to throw me off, his body forming a complete arc, but every time I rose with him, and when he crashed back to the ground, my butt hit hard on his chest and my shins even harder on his arms. He kept this up even though each thrust weakened him more and more. I just kept riding him, silently, my eyes locked on his face. In between these bucks, he tried to twist. The pin by nature almost prevents this, because I had him pinned so that his arms were straight out, preventing him from rolling at all. He kept this up for about twenty minutes, gradually weakening himself. He then slowed, his bucking became more labored, he weakened, then he stopped, exhausted, panting. Our eyes met for a second. I could see the defeat in them. I kept staring at him as I set to secure the pin. I slid up higher on his chest, my ankles now pinning his arms at the elbows, my crotch inches away from his chin. He swung his legs feebly one last time, then just lay there, completely pinned, subdued and beaten. I moved his hands up over his head and placed his wrists under my knees. I then leaned over and picked up my hat, put it on my head and placed my hands on my thighs. I stared down at him and smiled. It felt good. I had pinned boys before, but this was different. I had just pinned a man, a stranger, and I had him totally under my control. I rubbed the dirt and grass stains off my thighs, and I felt the sensation from the pin I had never felt it like this before. There was now an erotic surge of control that accompanied the usual feeling of empowerment. He looked up and started swearing, but I, not wanting my newfound mood broken, pressed my crotch tight against his chin, closing his mouth hard. I can't really describe the feeling, but it's as if sexual energy and power had collided, forming an incredible shock wave throughout my body. I looked up at the people watching, and I could tell that my secret was out, they could sense my emotions. The guys just stared, mouths agape. They were enjoying this, watching their friend getting pinned, and I fed off their enjoyment. They had the look on their face that said they wanted to be in that situation, just not with people watching. They wanted the gain with no pain. My friends mimicked my pose, hands either on hips or arms crossed n a confident pose. They seemed to be sharing in what I was doing and feeling. There was a palpable silence, a tension in the air. It was quite the rush. I looked back down at my victim, bounced a little and said, "I think I've proved my point. Don't you, boy?" thrusting my crotch into his chin to accentuate the "boy" I could see the pain and embarrassment in his face, but also a calm intrigue as he meekly nodded. I took off my hat and ran my fingers through my hair and replaced the hat. I sat upright, ran my fingers across my rear, down my skirt to my outer thighs and rested them on my knees. I stared down at him, almost daring him to look me in the eyes. I moved my thighs closer to his head until they lightly brushed against his ears, and pressed down so slightly on his wrists and arms. I wanted him to feel how securely I had him pinned. I spent the next few minutes just staring down at him, not saying a word. I would occasionally adjust my cap, or push my hair behind my ears, but my eyes locked on his. I pulled some grass and delicately let it sprinkle on his face. He would try to turn his head but my thighs moved in closer, touching his cheeks, and the sensation of my locking his head made the bleached blond hairs on my thighs stand up on end. My expression never changed. His friends were silent by now, almost uncomfortable. I looked up at them, and a couple of them were almost smiling, arms folded, eyes transfixed on the scene. I said nothing, smiled a little, then looked back down at my prey. He looked scared, his eyes were a little red, and his once cocksure demeanor had disappeared, replaced by a frighten animal. His breathing gently lifted me up and down with his chest, and I could feel his heart pound in my rear. I looked up over at his friends and made small talk with them, asking where they were going to school, etc. They answered in short, clipped tones, not knowing how to speak to this woman that had their friend pinned to the ground. Their eyes shifted from mine to their friends, occasionally glancing at my bare thighs, then to my face again, as they answered my questions. They were much more polite by this point, as if their friends' submissiveness had permeated their souls as well. I looked over to my friends and asked "I'm bored, are we ready to go?" They were trying not to laugh, and answered in the affirmative, it was indeed time to go. I looked back down into his eyes. "Well" I said, slapping the palms of my hands against my thighs causing his head to shake a bit "I think I've had enough. You?" He didn't speak. He didn't have to. His eyes said it all. They looked up at me, pleading, begging for this to end. I slowly stood up, grinding into his arms one last time as my legs lifted me up slowly. I stood astride him, looked down one more time at his beaten body, his shirt pulled up to his chest, and walked off. I turned one last time to say "buh-bye", laughed, and we away we went, laughing and joking. |
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