My Seduction
by Michael Elk



I was born and raised on a small farm near New Lisgeard, Ontario. Somehow I
was favored with good math and science genes, and therefore the first in my
family to try academics beyond high school. I wasn't exactly socially naive,
but life beyond my rural setting was a vast unknown, and as a result, setting
off for university and the big city had been a major episode in my young life.
However I found the faster life in the urban academic setting to be
exhilarating and enjoyable. And now, as one of only 3 girls in my 3rd year
chemical engineering class at Waterloo University, and being somewhat (I
think) attractive, I had little trouble gaining placements for our co-op work
program. We would attend class for 4 months, followed by a work placement for
4 months and then back to class to repeat the process. That is how I came to
Sarnia, Ontario in the summer of 2008 to work at an oil refinery. The
personnel manager (a man) had treated me royally, giving me a tour of the
factory, introducing me to my boss and co-workers, and supplying me with the
name of a lady who took in boarders. Then he had given me the rest of the day
to get my accommodations in order, and by 2 pm I was set up in a nice private
home with my own room and a very pleasant landlady, Mrs McAdams.

My story really began two weeks later, on an evening when Alice Iverson, a
co-worker, and I decided to go the local YWCA for a workout. Alice was on a
habitual workout program at the Y, but I'd never tried anything like that, and
had exercised little since high school where I'd been on several sports teams.
I had barely changed into gym attire and stepped into the exercise area, when
a tall black woman approached and asked if I'd like to wrestle.

What a shock. Nothing like that would happen in New Lisgeard. First of all we
didn't have a gym facility and second, we didn't have any black people. I had
no interest in wrestling this person, and I had absolutely no desire to make a
spectacle of myself in front of all the other patrons doing something that
could be misconstrued as sexual. I also couldn't help feeling that she was
horribly nervy as a black person making that kind of a request of a white. Yes
I know that idea is racist, and probably this wrestling suggestion would have
been horribly nervy from any stranger, but it seemed even more out of line
from a black. I'd always prided myself on my liberal views, and university has
put me in association with all colors and races, but deep down inside, I guess
somehow I'd formed the idea that blacks were not as entitled.- and I didn't
like myself for that idea one bit.

As I've stated, I did not want to wrestle anyone, particularly a woman, and
certainly not in front of spectators. However I'm not the assertive type, and
have difficulty saying no even to telemarketers. Also lurking over me was the
desire not to appear racist. And workout mats were right in front of us,
already set out for our 'pending' match.

As I hesitated, she stuck out her hand and said, "My name's Monica.
Wrestling's a great conditioner, and I guarantee you'll enjoy it."

"I'm Corinne" I said as I shook her hand, and suddenly found myself following
my future opponent out onto the mats to prepare for battle.

Monica was a couple inches taller than me, about 5' 9", but was lean and wiry
where I was more solid, so that we must have weighed about the same. She was
quite alluring, with dark hair in strings of cornrows draped over her
shoulders, falling a little below her neck, and framing a confident, perhaps
even authoritative visage. To the opposite sex, she would no doubt have been
sexually attractive, but to a female like myself, her appeal stemmed mostly
from that confident air. She would be a person who would take charge and could
be relied upon, a good candidate for a friend. She appeared to be at least 8
or 10 years older than me, in her early 30's, but she had that kind of look
that is ageless and she could have been several years older than that.

In all my life, I'd likely never touched the skin of a colored person, and now
I suddenly found myself about to get more intimate with one than I cared to.
At her suggestion, we started out on our knees, since throwing a person down
could result in injury. I was not totally unfamiliar with the sport of
wrestling, having had both an older and a younger brother. However it had been
a long time since my last sibling match, and I'd never squared off with a
female before. I was not so naive that I didn't consider the possible lesbian
nature of my opponent, and that she might be attempting to conscript a new
partner. But I was liberal enough that contact with a possible Gay didn't
bother me, and I was confident enough in my own sexuality that I wasn't
worried whether I could resist any advance she might make.

We probably only wrestled for about 10 minutes, but the workout proved as
strenuous as Monica had promised, and by the end, I was exhausted and
breathing hard. By mutual agreement, we quit at that point and I headed for
the treadmill while Monica took to the weights. And while I paced along on the
treadmill at a rate moderate enough to get my wind back and to cool down, I
had time to consider my recent initiation to the sport of grappling. In fact I
didn't just consider it, I couldn't get the match out of my mind, the various
moves and holds, and the pleasure of skin on skin contact with another human
being. I realized a couple of things. For one, I had enjoyed the physical
contact of the match immensely, and especially the delight of testing my
strength against the power of my opponent. And I had to admit that there was
something erotic about the sheen of glistening sweat on a black body. She was
strong, likely stronger than me and in better shape, but she proved a
considerate opponent, holding back a bit in order to keep the match even. And
once we had started wrestling, the rest of the world had disappeared as we
concentrated on the immediate contest. Not once had I worried about what
others were thinking, or given the presence of others around us a single
thought.

Wrestling Monica had been fun, and we'd talked continually as we strove
against one another, fighting hard to gain an edge physically, but maintaining
congeniality in our verbalizations. I had no idea that physical contact could
promote such bonding between two individuals, and I now realized that I really
liked this person. Somehow during the wrestling, I had gone from a reluctant,
afraid-to-be-seen participant, to a near rabid convert, who would eagerly
anticipate any future match.

As I sat in the change room, toweling off after my shower, Monica came by and
asked if I needed a ride home. This gesture meant she wanted to extend our
relationship, and perhaps hinted at a desire for intimacy. It reinforced my
original suspicions of her intentions. Nevertheless I would have said "yes"
had I not come with Alice, because I was comfortable with Monica as a friend,
and curious about what was happening. Though I had no intentions of letting
our relationship become sexual, I found it intriguing that someone like this
black woman apparently found me attractive. Reluctantly I informed my former
adversary that I had come with a friend and already had a ride home.

*******

The next evening I arrived once more at the Y at exactly the same time, but
without the encumbrance of Alice. I was excited at the thought of wrestling
once again, and prayed that Monica would be there. Talk about playing with
fire.

But I was disappointed, and the disappointment was palpable. The thought of
never seeing Monica again proved monstrously depressing.

On my third attempt in three nights, however, Monica again walked into the gym
and once more into my life. I was excited, and we chatted for over 20 minutes
like teenage friends. Then Monica said she was going to begin her workout, and
turned and left me. Now I was shattered. I'd expected to be asked to wrestle
again, and she hadn't asked . Perhaps she hadn't found the exercise as
titillating as her opponent had.

For 3 days, I'd thought of nothing but getting on the mat again with this
woman, and I'd imagined myself an object of her interest. Now it appeared that
wrestling was low on her priority list and that perhaps she wasn't a lesbian
after all. It was all so disappointing - like expecting to go to Disney Land,
and being taken to a petting zoo. I went through the motions of working the
weights and running the treadmill, but I had no interest, and quit after about
half an hour.

But as I was entering the shower, Monica came into the change room and again
asked me if I needed a ride. I was so overjoyed with the sudden unexpected
attention that I said "yes" perhaps too quickly and then hoped I hadn't
appeared way too eager.

On the way home, Monica suggested her place for coffee, and I readily
accepted. Now I was excited. It was the anticipation of the unknown, and I
fully expected her to make a play for me. It was scary to think about, but I
had no fear of my hostess, and I began practicing in my mind how I would let
her down gently without losing her as a friend when, and if, she should try to
become romantic.

Monica had a lovely three bedroom apartment that was a lot more lavish than
I'd expected. It turned out that she was an executive with Ontario Hydro,
which meant she must have had a 5 figure salary. She showed me the rooms,
describing her furniture and wall hangings with the pride of someone who has
done the decorations herself and is aware that she has done a great job. Her
bedroom was furnished 'Spanish' style, and was large enough to hold a king
size bed comfortably. The second bedroom had been turned into an office,
complete with desk, computer, bookcases and filing cabinets.

However the last room took my breath away and made my face turn crimson.
Monica said nothing for at least a full minute when she showed me the room,
putting the onus on me to respond. There was nothing in it but exercise mats
covering the entire expanse of the floor. I was flabbergasted.

"I just finished renovating this room yesterday." she said at long last. "Just
in case you might visit. I loved wrestling with you at the Y, but it bothers
me to have people stare and have god-knows-what ideas about us. Wrestling is
enjoyable for itself. I'd like you to be the first to try it out. Interested?"

"Yeah sure." I stammered. This was the second time she'd caught me flat footed
and without the ability to easily say 'no'. I knew that I should have declined
immediately, but my hostess was so proud of her efforts and so enthusiastic
that it was difficult to say no without hurting her feelings. I tried to avoid
the inevitable: "But my gym clothes are all sweaty and in my duffel bag in
your car."

"I thought of that. I've got a pair of old shorts that should fit you. You
won't want to ruin that nice blouse, so we can wrestle in bras and shorts.
OK?"

*******

Once again I found myself on my knees face to face with Monica.. I really
didn't want to do this, because it was obvious the direction that she was
headed. However my lack of assertion kept me from the simple refusal that
would have been normal for most human beings. I liked Monica and I just didn't
want to hurt her feelings. I had a sense that things wouldn't be quite so
enjoyable this time, and I could envision hard feelings and an end of our
friendship.

We locked fingers and tested each other for a minute or two, silent with the
effort we were exerting. Then gradually I began forcing her backwards until
she lost her balance and tipped backwards.

"You bitch." she said, laughing as I took advantage of her prone body and dove
onto it while she was down. Then we were into the give and take of the match
with gusto, first one, then the other having the advantage. Once again, I got
fully involved in the fray, enjoying the exercise and the physical contact,
and forgetting my doubts and apprehension.

The match ended rather abruptly. I was on top, holding her down with the
weight of my body, when she wrapped those long black legs around my torso and
began to squeeze. The pressure she exerted was uncomfortable, but when I
reached back to try to unhook her legs, she managed to use my distraction to
roll us over and reverse our positions. Now she was on top and straddling my
body. Her hands seized my wrists and pinned them to the mat on either side of
my head. I arched and struggled, but her grip was like a vice. I fought with
all my might, but could barely raise a hand an inch before she would drive it
forcefully back to the mat. I was not in great shape and had tired far more
than my opponent. Now that she had decided to take charge, I didn't have the
energy left to get free. The strength of my black opponent was too much, and I
now realized that she had not been using all of her power during our matches.
Eventually I gave up exhausted.

"OK. You win." I said laughing.

But my conqueror didn't reply, but rather forced my hands higher above my head
and then suddenly captured fingers from both my hands in one of hers.
Surprisingly, it was impossible to escape this simple hold. With my hands over
my head, I had to pull sideways and had no leverage. I did try, but only met
with frustration.

"Are you ticklish?" she asked with a smirk on her face. Then with her free
hand she began lightly moving her finger tips over my bare ribs until I was
writhing helplessly with the torture. I've always been ticklish, and I was
soon laughing and begging her to stop.

Suddenly she ceased the torment. "Perhaps you'd prefer this." And she slowly
slipped her fingers under my bra and flipped the material off my breast. I
went into shock as I realized what she intended to do to me. I'd known her
plans since she'd first invited me to her apartment, but had expected to be
able to say 'no' when and if she ever brought up the idea of sex. I admit that
I was excited, but what she was doing went against all my Christian
upbringing, and I felt that this was very wrong. I struggled to get free, but
Monica's weight sat heavy on my stomach and she had a fierce grip on my
fingers. I soon gave up, resigning myself to my imprisonment and somewhat
pacifying my guilt through my efforts to escape. Monica smiled down on me,
triumph written all over her countenance, and then began lightly rubbing her
thumb back and forth over my nipple. The sensation was immediate and electric.
I knew my nipples were sensitive, but no one had ever touched them like this
before except me.

"No. Stop!" I gasped, so overwhelmed by intense and novel sensations that it
was difficult to force out the words. But I didn't really want her to stop.
And she didn't. She bent down to my level and drew my breast into her mouth,
sucking greedily and fondling the nipple with a rough and very moist tongue. I
lost control. My head flew back and I inhaled half a roomful of air in under
two seconds. My nipple hardened painfully as she worked at it and a low moan
of pleasure escaped my lips. Without ceasing her oral ministrations on my one
breast, she quickly removed the bra pad from the other and began stroking and
pinching that nipple with practiced fingers, rapidly bringing it to full
attention as well.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh.............." I heard from somewhere and realized the sound was
coming from my own lips. The pleasure was so intense that I didn't think I
could stand it. Then I felt her weight lessen as she swung her leg over my
body and took up a position to my side, never relinquishing her oral and
tactile grips on my breasts. Then I realized that she had freed my hands, and
that I could now stop her assault if I wished. But it was far too late. I was
so aroused that all I wanted was relief, not release. My free will was long
gone and I was hers for the taking.

Long, black fingers began gently feathering the sensitive skin of my abdomen,
causing an involuntary intake of breath and a flutter of butterflies in my
gut. Then those fingers moved lower and crept beneath the loose fabric of my
shorts, and then under the elastic of my panties, the last barrier to the
trophy she sought. Now I held my breath with anticipation. I would have
screamed had she stopped. Her fingers moved downward to her target, steadily
but agonizingly slow in their progress. I was now more than a willing
participant, spreading my legs to assist her entry, and excited beyond belief.
I have a small and very sensitive nub, just inside my vagina, and her fingers
found it immediately and once there, never left it for a moment. By then I was
writhing helplessly in her grip, lost in ecstasy, and squirming to the tune
her fingers were playing on my sex. I came explosively and the orgasm lasted
for a millennium. My arms were around by black abuser, and clutching her body
hard to mine while I came. Then as the sensations slowly subsided, I collapsed
back onto the mats in exhaustion.

Monica drew herself up and brushed her lips gently over mine. "You're
beautiful, Corinne. You remind me of a shorter version of Carmen Diaz. That
was fun. I hope you liked it."

"Oh God." I breathed. "That was amazing. I've never felt anything like that in
my life." Then I remembered that only one of us had reached climax. Timidly, I
said, "Can I make you come too? It doesn't seem fair that you do all the work
and I get all the rewards."

"I'd like that." she replied. "Let me remove my bra and shorts, if you don't
mind. I'd like to feel your hands, and perhaps a tongue all over my body."

And I did my best. I'd never made love before to boy or girl, so I just
repeated most of what she had done to me, and I was able to bring her to a
really great (as far as I could tell) orgasm as well.

********

"You've just got to stay the night. I want to do a few more things with that
wonderful body of yours before I turn you loose. Phone your landlady and let
her know you're staying with a girlfriend tonight. Then get into the bedroom
where I can satisfy certain cravings I've developed for that tush of yours;
and perhaps I can show you a couple new things you haven't tried before."

I did as I was told, and lay down on her king size bed, fully naked, awaiting
my vanquisher. I had no regrets. Once Monica had aroused me, I had enjoyed
being seduced and was now completely sated. Had I been a cat, I would have
been purring.

Eventually Monica finished whatever she was doing in the kitchen and entered
the bedroom. The skin of her long, naked black body had a kind of sheen, and
her figure appeared gorgeous to her new admirer. For the first time I took the
opportunity to ogle my lover, to admire her broad shoulders, the curves of her
musculature and her athletic physique. And I found little fault with what I
saw.

"Let's try something different" she said, and took an object from the top
drawer of a dresser. It looked like a couple of penises attached in the shape
of a 'V' with straps. And I watched as she opened a jar of vaseline and coated
both parts of the 'V'. I'm pretty smart when it comes to academics, but not so
much in real life, and it was only when she spread her legs and began to
insert the one half of the object into her sex that I realized what it was
meant for. I'd never heard of a dildo at the time and only learned the name
much later.

"I can't do it." I cried in sudden panic at the thought of being taken in that
manner. The dildo looked huge and I didn't think I could possibly accommodate
the device. "I've never done anything like that."

"You're a virgin?" she questioned in disbelief. "Oh, I like that. It will be
an honor to be your first."

"No please. Let's do it the other way. I really liked that." I pleaded.

"Look. I'll take it slow and easy, and I won't do anything unless you give me
permission. If you decide you'd be happier with a finger fuck, I'll be pleased
to be the operator of the finger. OK?"

I considered getting up and making a run for it, but her words pacified my
fears, so I remained still while she tightened straps around her waist and
between her legs. She had turned her back to me as she ran the thin leather
cord attached to the shaft of the dildo, into the dark narrow slit of her bum
crack, and back up to hook onto the main support strap around her waist. I had
watched fascinated, finding the operation more than a little sexy. Then she
climbed onto the bed and straddled my prone form. She hovered over me like a
vulture waiting to attack. Her breasts were full and solid, the nipples
purplish and erect, homing their target like missiles. She leaned forward and
I felt the rubbery hardness of her weapon against my stomach. Her lips briefly
touched mine, but then began a light feathering against my neck, sending
shivers up and down my spine. And again, her fingers found my breasts and
worked their magic on my resistance.

"Tell me if and when you're ready. I won't use the dildo if you don't want me
to. But I tell you that it's quite an enjoyable route to take, and for both of
us at the same time." Then she swung her legs over mine and placed her body in
a position between my lower limbs. This I didn't like, because that wicked
looking thing was now right next to, and pointing directly at, my vagina. I
felt vulnerable, but at least had her reassurance that I could say no and stop
her at any time.

Then my assailant began a general, though gentle assault on all parts of my
body as she worked at arousing me and overcoming my reluctance. But I was far
too afraid of that thing penetrating me. It looked huge and I could only
imagine it tearing my delicate parts down there. And having been sexually
sated mere minutes earlier, I was not so out of control as before. There was
no way that she would have her way with me so easily this time. So I relaxed
and enjoyed the ministrations of my assailant. I wanted her to make me come
the way she had before, and had no intention of giving her my blessings to use
that massive weapon attached to her loins.

Then she was kissing me and her tongue seeking entry between my lips. I was
amazingly aroused and eagerly allowed her entry, then sucked greedily on that
moist, rubbery delicacy. I'd never French kissed a woman, and I was enjoying
the novelty immensely. Perhaps because I was so turned on, or perhaps because
of Monica's experience, I was finding the exercise much preferable to the few
times I'd done it with boys. Suddenly, I felt her hand between my legs and
stroking my sex. 'Wonderful', I thought. She's finally seeing it my way and
going to use those long, beautiful fingers. Suddenly I felt something hard
against my vagina, and by the time I realized that her playing with my sex was
merely a distraction and that her real purpose was to steer the dildo, it was
too late. Her treachery was a shock and I frantically tried to pull away. But
my fate was sealed and a sudden thrust of her hips drove the false penis a
couple inches into me. I was furious at her deceit. I struggled to get the
dildo out, but the penetration and her strong hands on my shoulders, prevented
me from dislodging the thing.

"Relax, Corinne. You're don't have a choice and you're going to enjoy this."
Her voice was harsh, no more Miss Congeniality, and her words were an order
rather than a statement. I couldn't get loose, and she calmly waited until I'd
exhausted my anger and quieted down. Only then did her hips and the dildo
began moving gently back and forth in unison, an inch or two at a time. I was
amazed that my sex handled the size of the object so easily. I still felt
violated and betrayed, but the physical sensations were so amazing and so
intense that I found myself moaning with pleasure. Soon the fact that I was
being raped was forgotten and I loved that this black goddess was taking me
against my will. I almost swooned in ecstasy. There was one brief moment of
pain, as my assailant suddenly thrust forward hard and broke my hymen, thus
officially taking my virginity. But that allowed the dildo to fully penetrate,
and it felt wonderful. Now my attacker began moving the dildo more and more
rapidly inside me, with longer, firmer, delicious strokes. The pleasure was
unbearable. I came in seconds, a massive orgasm detonating my innards. I then
had to endure some discomfort in my now hypersensitive vagina, while Monica
continued to use my body to bring herself to climax as well. But I didn't mind
at all.

********

Two days later I moved in with Monica. I didn't come cheap, because Monica
insisted that she pay my landlady for the full 3 months that I would have been
boarding there. But my new spouse could afford it. I have 18 months left of
school. However the train only takes an hour between Waterloo and Sarnia, so I
will spend most weekends with my new paramour. Our plan, when I graduate, will
be for me to find a job near Sarnia, and if I can't, Monica will apply for a
transfer to my region. That shouldn't be a problem as Ontario Hydro has
offices all over the province. I am continually fascinated that I can love a
black, older woman so much. Was I always a lesbian and just didn't realize it,
or did she seduce me not only physically but mentally as well. I no longer
have any interest in men, and I find it hard to comprehend my teen years when
I had thought of nothing but boys.

Epilogue

I first saw Corinne at the local YWCA where I had been hanging out for over a
month. I was hunting. Each night I would spread the exercise mats in a corner,
pretend to work out on them for 10 minutes or so, and wait and hope. During
that month, I had approached three young girls who I'd found appealing, asked
them to wrestle and each time been rebuked.

I didn't know Corinne's name at the time, but she was spectacular. Her face
was pretty rather than beautiful, but 'cute' would have been the best
description. She looked really young, innocent and naive. And she had curves
in all the right spots. My heart skipped a couple beats, but she looked too
young to have had any experience, and so I expected there would be little
chance of getting anywhere with her because of her lack of sophistication.

"Hi. I'm Monica. Would you like to wrestle? It's a great workout and I know
you'll enjoy it." Then I watched as panic overtook her fine features. She
wanted to say no, but was just too nice and too unassertive. It was then I
knew that there was a possibility. I might seduce this young charmer if I was
careful and played my cards right. I love to dominate my sexual partners, and
this one looked to be pliable, a good trait in a submissive.

I've had several female consorts over the past 10 years or so, and I have
enjoyed wrestling with each of them. Wrestling is an amazing sport. It's great
physical exercise, and if done seriously, requires top conditioning. But
wrestling also fosters a bond between the two combatants that is difficult to
describe. Male Greeks used to wrestle naked, and I suspect that matches often
led to gay sex. And I've found that a friendly wrestling match is a pretty
good way for me to fall in love. I can pick up a gay lover anytime I want at
gay bars, and I often have for one night stands. But I have this fetish to
seduce a heterosexual girl. It's no problem to get a girl in bed if she wants
it as badly as you do, but the challenge of taking an innocent turns my crank.
Wrestling would let me initiate body contact with the heterosexual, and be the
first step in gaining her trust and a necessary preclude to intimacy and
seduction.

When Corinne followed me onto that mat, I couldn't believe it was finally
happening. But of course, any sexual aggression on my part would have scared
her off. So we wrestled for only about 10 minutes, with my only goal to foster
a friendship and perhaps to introduce a bit of eroticism. I was quite a bit
stronger than my opponent, so held back a lot in order to keep the match even.
But it was hell for me. By the time we ended the match, I was ready to eat
this girl alive. I was so aroused with the skin on skin contact and with the
idea of seducing this guileless child, that I had to turn away from her in
case the wetness at my groin might be showing through my shorts. At times I
can be pure evil, and here I was pretending to be congenial and friendly while
grooming this innocent for the slaughter.

I was pretty sure from her reactions that Corinne had loved the wrestling and
would be back wanting more. However I didn't dare take a chance that my charms
would be enough of a lure. I offered her a ride home, but already knew that
she had come with a friend. However I followed the friend's car until she
dropped Corinne off, so that if Corinne didn't return to the gym, at least I
would know where she lived and could stage a chance meeting and try to
reestablish the friendship through a different venue.

But Corinne did return to the gym the very next evening, and alone. This was
an excellent development. However I didn't go to the gym myself. I remained in
my car at a safe distance and staked out the entrance to the Y until she
showed up. I couldn't appear too eager, and I wanted Corinne to be the eager
one instead. And when I did meet her again a couple evenings later, I chatted
with her for a quarter hour and then left her hanging. She was anticipating
the wrestling, and disappointment was written all over her young face when I
didn't suggest it.

The rest, so the speak, is history. Getting her to my apartment and then
getting her to wrestle was a snap. I let the match progress until my partner
was exhausted, then used my superior strength to control her, while I fondled
her breasts and then raped her with my hand. Of course had I raped an
unwilling partner (although that sport would have been highly exhilarating),
it would have been the end of the relationship, and I wanted much more from
this youngster. So I had to insure that she was sufficiently aroused to want
sex before I took her. Afterwards, she had pleased me to no end by wanting to
bring me to orgasm as well. Her efforts were sincere, but her inexperience
showed and I had to fake a better orgasm than I actually had. However I could
only look forward to giving this young innocent lots of practice in the
future.

I should have left the next stage in her subjugation for another session. But
I was keen with success and my lust was out of control, and I badly wanted to
dominate this young vixen completely. She balked severely when I showed her
the dildo, and I had to lie to her to get her into bed with it. But once I was
this close to my ultimate goal, there was no way that I was about to stop
short of its completion. Had I not been able to gain her interest and
cooperation, I literally would have tied her to the bed and raped her
unwilling little body. And to hell with consequences. I fear I am far from the
nicey-nice friend that I was working so hard to convince Corinne I was.

And what a wonderful result. Not only did I take her by deception and then by
force, but my helpless little victim enjoyed the experience so much that, when
I finished with her, her anger had completely dissipated and she was moaning
and purring with pleasure. But better still, I discovered that she was a
virgin during the seduction, and I was able to, as Shakespeare so eloquently
put it, "break her virgin knot". Shakespeare could be a little crude at times,
but it was a wonderful high to be the one to rob her of her innocence.

I have been a loner all my life. I have enjoyed a variety of sexual partners,
all female of course, and have never had the desire to settle down with any
one. I am a hunter and thrive on the pursuit and seduction. The more unwilling
the participant, the more satisfaction with the success. That is why I worked
so hard to get a heterosexual into bed, and the result with Corinne way
exceeded my expectations. But, with her, the wrestling and seduction and the
orgasms took a tole on me. Sometimes the hunter becomes caught in her own
devices. I had discovered a lot about my recent conquest during the process of
subjugating her. Yes she was unassertive, and pliable and I liked those
characteristics. But she was also smart, and funny at times, and god how I
loved her timid smile. Once she moved in with me and as I began learning her
personality, I found myself attracted more and more to her, so that I could
think of little else during the work day but getting home and getting into her
delicate briefs. I had seduced this youngster, introduced her to lesbian
activities, and taken her virginity And all the while that I was having such a
great time dominating her, and thinking she was the victim, my fate was being
sealed along with hers. While I schemed and plotted, she was innocently
spinning a web about me that forged bonds stronger than steel. I found I no
longer could resist her guileless charms. I had fallen head over heals in love
for the first time in my life. I could no longer live without this young
woman. The hunter had fallen victim in her own trap.

Epilogue to the Epilogue

As a young girl growing up in new Lisgeard, I often thought about a husband, a
home and children. But I never really thought about love. Now suddenly I had
love thrust upon me and full throttle. It wasn't something I'd expected and it
had taken me by storm. I had no idea that when Monica first asked me to
wrestle, that she would become my partner for life. No males in my future when
lesbian love felt so good.

I loved her with all my heart, and we made plans to be together forever once I
graduated. But now I was back at university in Waterloo and would only see my
black lover on weekends. The weekdays passed so slowly and the weekends took
forever to arrive. All I could think about was being back in Monica's strong
arms again.

Well perhaps that wasn't exactly all I thought about. I was just learning to
stretch my wings. My mother had suggested that I not get too serious about one
person while in college, but to play the field a bit and enjoy the freedom of
youth before settling down. Of course she was talking about boys, and they no
longer were of interest to me. But there were an awful lot of beautiful and
desirable coeds all around me, and for the first time I began taking notice of
them.

I wanted nobody else except Monica of course, but she was a long way away most
of the time.

My first visit to a gay, lesbian bar was an awfully scary event. I was
terrified that someone I knew would see me enter. Once inside though, I could
relax and enjoy the atmosphere. I was one of few under the age of 30, so I was
instantly an attraction and had several drinks purchased on my behalf.
Eventually, half inebriated, and not in shape to make good decisions, I wound
up being taken home by a very sexy, very tatooed, very butch, very tough, and
very dominant woman whose idea of lovemaking proved quite a bit more liberal
and violent than mine. She was about 6 feet tall, and burly, with strong
facial features, and was attractive in a masculine way ; and in my drunken
condition, I'd thought it would be erotic to be totally dominated by this
Amazon. She had been pleasant and attentive in the bar, and her easy-going,
humorous style had overcame any doubts I'd had. However once she had me alone
in her apartment, she changed into a domineering shrew, interested only in her
own satisfaction and demanding that I perform some pretty weird stuff. But
when I didn't return her enthusiasm and tried to leave, she proved to be
masculinely strong, and I wound up handcuffed to the bed and forced to do all
those weird things against my will. She was rough enough that she hurt me at
times. But the worse was the intimidation she used to force me to do what she
wanted. She threatened to kill me if I didn't cooperate, and since no one knew
my whereabouts, she easily could have. I was held in a state of terror all
that night, and when she finally released me, I was sore, exhausted, with
parts of my body black and blue, and hickies all over my neck. I learned my
lesson well that evening and never returned to her apartment or the bar scene
again. I felt so guilty the next day when I'd sobered up, that I took a silent
oath never to cheat on Monica again. It was not my style to be promiscuous,
and I certainly didn't want to be unfaithful to my lover. However I was quite
sure that Monica would never remain monogamous - it just wasn't her style. So
that had been my excuse to try out the bar scene - that and my general
horniness as a 22 year old coed. Boy, had I ever learned my lesson. From then
on I intended to be a one woman girl.

A month into the school term, and a week after my bar experience, a new Asian
student appeared in some of my classes. She was tall for her race, about my
height of 5' 8, dark complexioned and very cute. She could easily have passed
for 16 or 17, but all Asians seem to be young looking. I immediately insured
that I sat beside her a couple of times, and found out that she was Korean,
her name was Kim, and she had just transferred from York University in Toronto
to take the Environmental Engineering course at Waterloo. Better still she had
just broken up with her boyfriend back in Toronto, and I was there for her
with a sympathetic ear. I lent her all my notes on the courses we shared so
that she could catch up, and showed her around the campus - attempting to
become her best friend.

This evening, I introduced Kim to the University Pub. At first I encouraged
her to imbibe, but she proved too enthusiastic, and eventually I had to take
charge and cut her off. Half inebriated, she is quite funny, a loveable drunk,
and very cute. I want to eat her alive. I have to take her to my apartment for
the night so that she doesn't get in trouble at her residence. I sure hope
she's still in good enough shape to wrestle.

Note from the author: Being asked by a stranger to wrestle in a public place
might seem quite a stretch. However that is precisely what happened to me when
I was a university student and at a work position during the summer. And
except that I reversed the genders of the participants, most of what I
described at the YMCA happened one summer evening. I was 21 years old, and the
man appeared to be in his early 30's. I was super reluctant to wrestle in
front of an audience for fear it would be construed as sexual. Worse, I had
come with 2 friends and wondered what they might be thinking.

However the mats were right there and ready for our match, and I was timid and
unassertive and just didn't know how to say no. Against my will, I quickly
found myself on the wrestling mats and grappling with this stranger.

But wrestling is fun, and as we tussled, the rest of the world disappeared and
I thought of nothing but the enjoyment of the match. The biggest surprise for
me was the degree of bonding that wrestling fostered between us. I felt he was
stronger, and was holding back a bit, and I could appreciate that. I also had
suspicions that he was looking for a homosexual relationship. However none of
that mattered, as I found my opponent quite likeable and the action somewhat
erotic.

He did ask me in the dressing room if I needed a ride, but I had come with my
friends and had to go home with them. Otherwise I would have accepted his
offer and would have gone to his apartment had he asked (and I was quite sure
that he would have).

I didn't go back to the Y again that summer and never encountered my grappling
adversary again. I was pub crawling with my friends practically every evening,
and we had met a couple girls who were joining us on a regular basis ; and I
was particularly interested in one of them. That put a damper on any chance
that I might have returned for another match at the Y. Otherwise I might have
had my first (and only) homosexual encounter. I am definitely heterosexual. I
am generally only attracted to females. However the experience that summer
convinced be of the powerful bonding that can be generated through wrestling
someone - the full-out physical striving against one's opponent and the skin
to skin contact. I truly think it could generate (at least in me) greater love
for an individual than the act of sex.