Rebecca - Female Bodybuilder/Wrestler
By Session Man



My name is Rebecca. I'm 28 years old and have strawberry blond hair. I've been
a serious female bodybuilder since I was 15 years old. But even before that, I
was a muscular young girl. Growing up I was taller than the boys and stronger
as well. Several of the boys in the neighborhood had parents who both worked,
so after school the boys would invite me to their house to "study." I always
knew what that meant. And I always accepted each invitation with delight. We'd
do about ten minutes of studying before the boy would start commenting on my
reasonably big muscles. They would ask to touch my biceps. The bold ones would
touch my thighs. Before long, we'd be on the floor, or sometimes even in his
bed, wrestling. None of us really knew what to do sexually. But that never
stopped us from rubbing against one another. The highlight, at least for me,
was when I would squeeze the boy as tight as I could between my thighs. I
loved to hear them plead for mercy. Sometimes they would panic from my scissor
pressure and almost cry.

By the time I was 15, sex had taken on real meaning. By then I was 5' 9" and I
was around 130 lbs. My "studying" habits hadn't changed, although now sex
became an obsession. By legs had developed nicely, with strong muscles in my
thighs and calves. For school, I deliberately wore relatively short shirts, so
that the boys would go crazy looking at my legs. I played several sports,
notably soccer and basketball. This, unfortunately, cut into my after-school
co-ed "studying" time with the boys. It was during this period of my life that
one of my coaches suggested I should lift weights to improve my athletic
performance. I tried it, and I loved it.

Within a few months I had gained 10 pounds of muscle. After a year, I gained
another 10 pounds. Now weighing 150 lbs, I was stronger than many of the boys
my age. In fact, it was two years after I began lifting weights that I had a
memorable after-school tussle with Billy Welsh, a seventeen year old, who
lived on my block. We had wrestled several times before, but we never had sex.
Billy and I were the same age, and we were about the same size. We both
weighed 160 lbs, although he was a few inches taller than me. Just as I was a
star soccer and basketball player on the girls' team, Billy was an up and
coming quarterback on the football team. Well, that day Billy was looking for
more than to merely wrestle. Once I entered his house, he dropped any pretense
of wanting to "study," and asked me to come into his bedroom. This was fine
with me. It had been a month or two since I last had sex; I was horny for a
roll- in-the-hay.

To make a long-story short, while we were making love, Billy asked me to wrap
my thighs around him and squeeze really tight. Like all the boys, he wanted to
feel the immense pressure that I could bring to a body scissors hold. We slid
onto our sides, while continuing to have sex. I squeezed him tightly. Just as
I was reaching orgasm, I crushed him with the full power of my thighs. My
thick muscles were just too much for Billy's ribs. We heard two loud pops as I
climaxed. Not only did Billy now have a problem explaining to his parents how
he got two broken ribs, but he permanently lost his spot as the starting
quarterback on the team. So much for his promising football career. Billy held
this against me until I lost touch with him when I went away to college.

As a result of my improved athletic performance from weight-lifting, I got a
scholarship to play soccer at an east coast university. Unfortunately, a knee
injury in my junior year cut short whatever potential career I might have had.
However, the intense rehab period resulted in enormous growth of my leg
muscles. I started looking at bodybuilding magazines, and I realized that my
legs were even better looking than many of the professional women contestants.
What I needed was upper body muscle development to match my incredible legs.
So, I went to the best gym in town and started to seriously train. I became a
professional bodybuilder.

Bodybuilding is an expensive sport. Supplements alone cost a fortune. It
didn't take being a rocket scientist to learn that I could make money doing
wrestling sessions. I read everything that I could on the internet about these
sessions. It was clear that the guys wanted at least two things; they wanted
to be squeezed in some type of hold, and they wanted sex. I couldn't wait to
fulfill their dreams. Their desires matched mine perfectly. But I didn't want
just anyone touching my body. So, my website, under the name of "Scissors 69,"
stated that the guy had to be fit, preferably trim, and clean. I reserved the
right to refuse service for those who didn't meet my expectations. Since,
after college graduation, I had a daytime job as an account executive that
paid well and offered a lot of travel, I could afford to be selective in the
guys I wrestled.

I have wrestled men, who contacted me on the internet, for 6 years now. Many
of them are repeat customers. If they only meet my minimum expectations, I
just wrestle them. However, if I like what I see, then I dominate our sexual
relationship, while I am providing first-class service for their fantasies. My
favorite wrestling hold is a reverse head-scissors. This can easily morph into
a hand job/blowjob, while at the same time the guy eats my pussy. Many of the
men also want to be crushed in a routine head-scissor. This is so easy. I only
have to withhold my full-power, otherwise I would knock the guy out. The
latter has happened a few times. But my second favorite hold is the
body-scissors. I love to feel my thighs crushing his mid-section. I get
excited when I see that he is having breathing problems. I know that in a my
vice-like body scissors, his very existence is being controlled by my thighs.
Most men cannot even imagine how much strength I have in my 26" thighs until
start to apply pressure. In fact, no one has ever broken out of my
body-scissors once I decide to squeeze them into submission. Lastly, I love to
squeeze guys in a bear-hug. Many of my customers are about my size or shorter.
So, when I wrap my 16" biceps around their body, I can easily pick them up and
squeeze their ribs or spine until they cry uncle. Occasionally, I'll have a
guy pass out from lack of oxygen when I am squeezing him around his chest.
This turns me on; knowing that I can do this almost every time.

So, here I am, visiting Philly, my original hometown. I worked in the office
today from 9:00 AM to 6 PM. Then I had an early dinner. Now back at my hotel,
I am preparing for my only session during this visit. The guy told me in his
email that he wanted to meet at 8:00 PM, and booked me for two hours. Wow, at
$500 per hour, he must be well-off. He emailed a photo of himself, but fuzzed
out the face. That's Ok with me. I understand that privacy is crucial. In the
photo he is wearing a bathing suit and he looks very buff. I imagine that he
goes to the gym a lot. He says that he is 5'11" and weighs 180 lbs. Sounds
good to me. He outweighs me by ten pounds and is two inches taller. I'm
looking forward to meeting him. He's not very specific about what he wants,
but since the internet is full of my session reviews, I assume that he expects
sex. We'll see.

There is a knock at my hotel room door. I get up from the sofa and walk across
the room to meet my client. It's precisely 8:00 PM. I decided to dress-up a
little for this guy. I'm wearing three-inch black heels, which makes me an
even 6 feet tall. I have on a tight-fitting black dress; the hemline stops at
mid-thigh, to reveal my muscular legs. Thanks to breast implants, this
sleeveless dress shows off my ample cleavage, and my ripped biceps and
triceps. I look through the door viewing hole, but I only see the back of the
guys head. What the hell, I open it anyways.

Oh My God. I can't believe who I am looking at. It's Billy Welsh. He has a big
smile on his face, but he doesn't look surprised at all to see me.

"Billy, it is you, isn't it," I say.

"Rebecca, you look great. Or should I call you Scissor 69?"

I'm speechless. In six years of sessions, I have never met anyone that I knew
previously. And of all the people to walk into my hotel room, Billy Welsh was
last person that I would expect.

"Billy, did you know that it would be me when you emailed Scissor 69?"

"You bet. I've been following you on the internet for several years. I've read
about every one of your sessions that has been reviewed. I've look at your
bodybuilding photos in every website and magazine that I could find," he
replied with a broad grin.

This was getting a little creepy for me. Maybe I should be pleased at his
interest; but then again, we hadn't exactly parted on good terms ten years
ago. I ask him if he truly wanted a wrestling session and he says yes. I
invite him into the room. He comes next to me, puts his arms around my waist
and whispers that it was wonderful to see me again. I return the hug, but I am
a trifle uncertain if he means it.

Since we already knew each other, I suggest that we take off our clothes. He
readily agrees. When he removes his shirt, I think, Jesus, he is well built.
His pecs were developed and his biceps were well muscled. When he drops his
pants, I see that he had not neglected his leg development. For the first time
in six years, I feel a little smaller than my customer.

He stared at me as I removed my clothes. This was normal for any guy. I had
won a ton of bodybuilding contests and even made it to the Miss Olympia
contest once. I didn't come close to winning, but I knew that even getting
that far ranked me as having one of the hottest bodies on the planet. What to
do now. Ok, I thought. I'll treat Billy as I would any other client. I
approached him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and bear-hugged him with
about 50% power. To my satisfaction, he grunted when the force of my arms
pressed against his back. I looked into his face. He was still smiling. This
would not do. I needed for him to respect my strength. So I smiled back at him
and adjusted my bear hug hold. I stepped closer to him, ensured that my biceps
were fully placed against his sides, clasped by hands together and squeezed
REALLY tightly. Although I heard a few noises coming from him, he seemed to be
taking this very well. So, I kept my hands locked, but extended my arms,
thereby putting enormous pressure on his ribs from by biceps pressing in on
him. Finally, he groaned and tapped my shoulder. I let him go.

"Rebecca, you are the strongest woman I've ever been with."

"You better believe it," I replied. It was probably true. But Billy's ability
to hold out a little while against my bear hug told me that he might be a
serious competitor.

We moved to the king-sized bed and started to wrestle. Billy was no slouch. He
had been on the high school wrestling team. It was also obvious that he had
put on a lot of muscle in the past ten years. He got me in a headlock and
squeezed so tightly that I thought my head would pop off. I had to push
against his throat with my forearm to free myself. I mounted him and tried to
hold him down. It wasn't easy. He was very strong for his size. As he bucked
me off, I managed to wrap my legs around his waist. I knew that I had him now.
I crushed him in my body scissors. My thighs bulged as they forced the air out
of his lungs. After fifteen seconds, he tapped out and I let him go.

We re-positioned ourselves to our knees and locked fingers. It was a standoff.
Neither of us could make the other give. We both let go and wrestled again.
This went on for maybe twenty minutes. Finally, I caught Billy in a reverse
head scissors. I rolled on top of him. I had his head caught deep within my
inner-thigh muscles. I squeezed as tightly as I could, grabbing his dick at
the same time. Suddenly, I felt Billy's tongue exploring my clit. God, this
was fun. This went on for several minutes; I relaxed my scissors hold so I
wouldn't knock him out. After awhile we had sex in the traditional position.

As we rested in bed, following our joint climax, Billy said that he wanted to
see how muscular my abs were. He wanted to body scissor me as a test. I wasn't
sure about this. Billy has seriously strong looking thighs. He pleated and
said he would stop squeezing if I was too weak to handle it. This was a
challenge that I wasn't going to pass on.

"Too weak," I said. "Give it your best shot." My abs were outstandingly hard.
After-all, I did about 1,000 sit-ups a day.

Billy stayed on his back and I rolled on top of him. He locked his legs around
me, but without warning, squeezed with everything that he had.

"Oh shit, Billy!" I gasped. "How about a heads-up." I tried to open up his
legs, but I couldn't do it. His thighs were seriously hurting my rib cage.

"Ok, I give up," I said, as I tapped his thigh. But he didn't release me. In
fact, it seemed that he squeezed harder.

"Hey, Rebecca. Do you remember when you broke my ribs and cost me a college
football scholarship? Well, this is payback time. I've been waiting ten years
for this."

I felt panic for the first time in my life. I was having a huge problem
breathing. Billy's legs were literally crushing the life out of me. I tried to
hit him but he grabbed both of my wrists. He had set me up; I had fallen for
his charm. He was laughing at me with each new squeeze, as bolts of pain shot
through my mid-section. If I couldn't get out of this, I'd have several broken
ribs. Finally, I freed one arm from his grasp. As he attempted to grab it
again, I managed to block his arm and force it into the grasp of my other
hand, albeit the hand was still being held by him. However, this freed up one
of my arms. Drawing on knowledge gained from many pressure point self-defense
classes, I hit Billy on the side of his neck with the side of my hand. This
jolted his carotid artery and sent a spike to his central nervous system.
Immediately, Billy went unconscious. I pried open his legs, and took several
deep, but painful breaths. I knew that I had only moments before Billy
regained his senses.

I rolled off of the bed, reached into my suitcase and took out two pair of
handcuffs. Hey, a girl never knows what she will need when doing sessions on
the road. Just as Billy started to moan and slowly move, I locked each of his
wrists to the bed's metal headboard. Then I stepped back and watched him come
awake.

I was Ok now. The pain in my sides has left me. I had been lucky. But Billy
was about to feel my full fury. As he regained his senses, he pulled on the
handcuffs, but to no avail. I smiled with satisfaction and anticipation.

"Billy, Billy, Billy," I said. "Will you never learn?" He stared at me. I
could see uncertainty and concern spreading on his face. "I welcomed you into
my room with an open heart, and you tried to hurt me."

"No, I wasn't going to hurt you. It was just a game," he said excitedly.

"You're a fucking liar, Billy. You shouldn't have messed with a professional
bodybuilder."

Billy kept saying no, no, no, please no, as I got back onto the bed. His arms
were trapped above his head by the handcuffs. I straddled his mid-section,
wrapping my long, muscular legs around his waist and lower ribs. Then I rolled
to the side, keeping my scissors hold locked in place.

"No, no, no Rebecca. I'm sorry. Don't do this, please."

I smiled, and told Billy that it was too late to apologize. Slowly, at first,
I tightened my body scissors on him. I could clearly see the panic on his
face. After one minute I had my thighs squeezing him with maximum power. He
tried to twist free. What did he imagine that he could do, I thought? I
learned back and gave it everything that I had. Within seconds I heard two
ribs breaking. I hadn't felt this good in years. I move up in the bed, so that
I could squeeze him higher up on his ribcage. Again, I gave him full pressure.
In his weakened state, he lasted only about five seconds. I heard more ribs
breaking.

I didn't really have a plan for what to do next. I released my scissors hold
and sat next to him for a minute, just contemplating the situation. He was
having difficulty breathing, but I didn't think that he was in serious danger.
All of this action had turned me on. I needed another orgasm badly. I decided
what to do. I stood up in bed and positioned myself over Billy's head. There
wasn't a lot of room between Billy's arms, handcuffed to the bed, and the
headboard. But there was enough for what I wanted. I slide down on top of
Billy's face, letting my thighs drop on either side of his head, and my legs
folded underneath his arms. For the next ten minutes I ground my crotch into
his face. Billy's chin made a perfect rubbing surface for my clit. His nose
wasn't bad either. Billy groaned and desperately asked me to stop. "Fuck him,"
I thought. Then I laughed, because that was exactly what I was doing. As I
reached orgasm I squeezed his head so tight that he passed out. I didn't care.

I got off of him and got dressed. While doing so, I could see that he had come
around. But I had a problem. This was my room, I couldn't just leave. And I
had to think of my reputation in the hotel. So, after taking my $1,000 fee
from his wallet, I put his pants and socks on him, slipped his shoes on his
feet, and unlocked one of the handcuffs.

"Billy, I'm going to let you go. If you cause any trouble, I'll punch you so
hard in the ribs that you'll be in pain for a month." He shook his head in
agreement. He looked pathetic. I was delighted. I unlocked the other handcuff
and handed him his shirt. He tried to put it on, but yelped in pain as he
moved his body. I didn't care about his pain, but I didn't want him walking
down the hall without his shirt on, thereby possibly drawing unwanted
attention. I helped him put it on and button it up. Then I walked him slowly
to the door.

"Billy, if I ever hear from you again, I'll come after you with a vengeance.
If I ever read anything bad about me on the internet from you, I'll tell the
world what a pussy you are. Understand?" He nodded.

I let him out of the room and closed the door behind him. Pausing for a moment
to take in what had just happened, I jumped in the air, swung my fist, and
said,

"Best day I've had in years. FANTASTIC.