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Old 30-Apr-12, 19:47
brodin brodin is offline
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Default 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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  #2  
Old 05-May-12, 19:48
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mwondayy mwondayy is offline
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Default 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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  #3  
Old 06-May-12, 04:01
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ddelurker ddelurker is offline
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Default Re: younger sister domination

brodin
Is this story a re-post, or are you the original author?
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Old 06-May-12, 12:56
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Naji Naji is offline
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Default 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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Old 06-May-12, 14:28
Wardenaoe Wardenaoe is offline
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Default Re: younger sister domination

I remember reading this at sgpinned.
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They credit Cindyhoney
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Old 10-May-12, 04:40
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Default 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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Old 10-May-12, 20:03
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Thanks, ddelurker! Please, do post some of those stories, as my membership is pending approval to the mentioned group
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Old 13-May-12, 03:50
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Default 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  
Old 13-May-12, 03:52
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Default 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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Old 13-May-12, 03:53
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Default 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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