Runner Wrestles Rima
By Runner

    
  It had been three months since Kayla and I (but mostly Kayla) had 
broken the full-strength bear hug record for hug duration and power 
applied. 
 I had moved three times before she finally located me, and on the day 
the Guiness Book guy came into town with his testing and timing 
equipment, Kayla had broken down the door of my apartment with one open-
handed shot, grabbed me by the hair and handcuffed me to the seat of her 
motorcycle. 
  Technically it was a blatant case of kidnapping, but since I'm not a 
kid, and I wasn't napping at the time, nobody cared.  So now, here we 
were in a hotel suite, me standing in my jockey shorts, my body wired 
with pressure sensors, Kayla stripped down to only a thong and no top, 
and the Guiness Book guy holding an electronic timer. 
  If you read my account of the first time Kayla had practically 
squeezed me to death with a bear hug, you will remember the agonizing 
details, which need not be repeated here.  What I will tell you is that 
this time, when it was all over, Kayla had broken the record with a time 
of five minutes twenty-three seconds, and a crush index that went off 
the chart, as crush indices go. She had also broken three of my ribs, 
given me a contused spleen, and a partially collapsed right lung.  Upon, 
learning what Kayla had managed to do to me (for the love of sport, and 
not from passion), her most ardent suitors packed away their condoms and 
left town. 
  The doctor ordered me to take eight weeks to recover and banned me 
from track competition for three months, which meant that I would miss 
the first four Masters track and field meets of the year.  I was not a 
happy sprinter. 
  To her credit, Kayla came to see me in the hospital every day, and 
even gave a pint of blood to the cause of getting me back on my feet.  
At the end of the first week, I was able to sit up, and swung my feet 
down to the floor just as Kayla was coming in.  "Wait!" she cried, let 
me help you."  And she opened her massive arms and rushed to my side. 
  "Don't touch me!" I screamed as she took my arm and gently guided me 
up. 
  "Why are you so jumpy, Runner?" she asked without the faintest 
acknowledgment that she was the reason I was in there in the in the 
first place. 
 When I stood up, my gown, that was just thrown around my shoulders, 
fell to the floor, and there for all to see was my torso with an eight 
inch wide band of purple and black bruise that encircled my lower 
thorax, and three fading yellow and blue-green bruises where her two 
solid breasts and steel abdomen had buried themselves against my feeble 
flesh. 
  "You really need to take better care of yourself, you know that?" she 
said with a straight face as she led me to the bathroom.  
  When I came out, she looked very serious.  "I'm going to be out of 
town for a few months on a worldwide wrestling tour." 
          There is a God after all. 
  "And I've asked a friend of mine,Rima, a body builder and wrestler, to 
look after you while I'm gone. " 
  "Kayla," I said, pleading for real, "that really won't be necessary." 
  "She's lost the lease to her apartment so I've moved her into your 
apartment for a while.  She can sleep in the spare room, and she's 
strong enough to physically help you get around.  It'll be good for the 
both of you." 
  
  Rima, as it turned out was a really attractive girl, about twenty-six 
years old, 5'7", 135 pounds, who looked more like a cheerleader than a 
female body builder and wrestler.  She had strong, lithe muscles and 
short blonde hair, and didn't appear threatening at all, so I agreed to 
the deal, and Rima stayed. 
  We developed a good relationship over three months, and Kayla was held 
over in Germany and England, so by mutual agreement Rima stayed on. 
Meanwhile, I was getting back into running shape, taking a half mile run 
on the track, then stretching, doing some easy sprints, and (against my 
doctor's advice) some light long-jumping. 
  One evening I was poring over some of the message boards at Diana's 
when the name "Rima" caught my eye.  Coincidence, I thought to myself, 
but I opened the board and found a web site for Rima, and it turned out 
to be the same Rima.  And there were the testimonials about her 
strength, wrestling skills, beauty, compassion, and dates of 
availability for matches. 
  I tapped into the chat room and there was the usual gang. Clepsydra 
welcomed me with the usual "the 100 yard man", and When I mentioned 
Rima, there was a lull on the monitor, then the messages started to 
flow.  "Wow!" "Do you know her?"  "Oh man, she's something else."  "I 
had a bout with her and she just about killed me!"  "You thinking of 
wrestling her?" 
    I told them that she lived in my place and again there was a lull. 
        Then one message came through-"Oh.my.God." 
         "You got to wrestle her man. I mean she's right there." 
    My ribs began to ache just thinking about touching another woman. 
"Look guys, I've never wrestled anybody.  I've got no skills, and only a 
runner's strength." 
  "Hey, she doesn't care.  She's a sweet gal.  Strong as hell.  She 
could crush you in an instant, but she's really careful." 
    The word crush immediately put me off my game.  Enough with the 
squeezing and the crushing already.  I thought of another argument-one 
that really concerned me, but I didn't tell these guys about it.  Maybe 
another time.  Meanwhile, the phone was ringing and when I picked it up, 
it was Kayla from Germany.  My sides began to throb.  
  "Hi," she said heartily.  We talked for a while, and when I told her 
what the guys in the chat room told me, she laughed and said to go ahead 
and wrestle Rima.  I told her my concerns and she said the same thing 
the guys had said.  Then I told her my real concern. 
  "Kayla, look, what if.I mean.with all the holds and the grappling, 
we'd be really kind of intimate, and." 
    "And what?" Kayla challenged. 
        "Well, you know.what if.I mean I'm bound to.well, what if my 
flag runs up the pole." 
  "What the hell are you talking about?" she said. 
  "Jesus, Kayla, what if I get excited." 
        "Well, sure you will, it's the anticipation of battle." 
    "No," I said in frustration.  "What if I get an erection?" 
  A pause.  Then raucous laugher. 
  "You find this amusing, do you," I asked with a bit of irk in my 
voice. 
  "You dumb ass!  Of course you'll get an erection. All the men do, 
unless they're.oh, you know.the guys with no balls." 
  "You mean eunuchs?" 
  "Right.  Which reminds me of something.  I don't recall your getting 
an erection with me. And we were reeeeeaaal close." 
  "For God's sake, Kayla, the first time, you squeezed acid into my 
throat, practically stopped my heart, cut off all the blood in my body, 
so where was it going to go?  Not into my dick, that's for sure.  The 
brain and heart get the first priority." 
  "So what if you get a hard-on.  So what?" 
         "Hey, I'm not a stone.  Why should I let myself get that hot 
and bothered when there's no place to go with it." 
  She laughed. "Runner, you are such a Boy Scout." 
  "Straight arrow," remember? 
    "Well just don't let her damage that straight arrow.  I may have 
plans for it when I get home." 
  This was news to me.  I didn't think Kayla had that kind of interest 
in me.  Besides, if she thought I was going to voluntarily get between 
those redwood thighs of hers she had a big surprise coming. 
  "Hey, talk to her," she coaxed.  "And don't worry, I'm not the jealous 
type." 
  Again, there is a God.  I would hate to think what Kayla's retribution 
would be if she had a jealous streak. 

  That night, when Rima came in, I told her how I had found her web site 
and had talked to the guys in the chat room, and then to Kayla and that 
there was a general consensus that I ought to book a bout with her. 
  "Okay, she said, "you've told me what everybody else thinks.  What do 
YOU think?" 
  Suddenly, I turned into Porky Pig.  
"Well.bedee.bedee.bedee.that.that.that's all folks."   Actually, I was 
tongue-tied.  I was a total gel in her presence.  This cheerleader of a 
girl, three inches shorter than me, twenty-five pounds lighter, and I'm 
standing there terrified. 
  "Tell you what," she said.  I've got a bout here in about half an 
hour.  I usually go to their hotel, but my time is so compressed that I 
just told him to come here.  You don't mind if we use the queen-size bed 
in my room do you.  It's sturdy enough.  Then we'll talk more, okay? 
  "Well.um.I.I.bibble de bobble de baggle de dee."  I know I said 
something more intelligent than that, but that was all my mind heard. 
  She smiled, touched my cheek with her hand and went to her room to 
prepare.  
  At 7:30 the doorbell rang and I answered it.  There stood an Arnold 
Schwarzenegger look alike, only taller and more muscular, if that is 
possible. He looked down at me with a look of confusion, then stepped 
back and looked at the address, then looked back down and began to 
stammer. 
  "All right," I said, "You can take my daughter to the prom, but she 
has to be back before eleven.  As long as we've got that clear, there 
will be no problems.  And remember, no French kissing and no hand play 
below the neck." 
  The guy looked crestfallen, and glanced over my head for an appeal 
board.  I thought for sure he was going to cry, but just then a voice 
called out, "Oh, don't listen to him, he's just my roommate."  And Rima 
came out of her room looking for all the world like a beautiful 
teenager.  She was dressed in a red leotard and looked like she had just 
stepped out of ballet slippers.  
  "Runner, this is Olin.  Olin, this is my friend Runner, who is just on 
his way to the store.  Right, runner?" 
  "Oh, that's right," I said, striking my forehead with the heel of my 
hand.  "Now what was it you wanted again?  Oh yes, I have it right 
here."  I pulled a little notebook from the desk.  "Let's see, two 
packages of Tampax, KY jelly, a bottle of feminine deodorant spray.was 
that scented or unscented?" 
  Rima gave me a scolding look, and with her two unexpectedly strong 
hands turned me in the direction of the door, and gave me what was 
apparently a playful push that sent me flying twenty feet. 
  "And don't come back for an hour!" she commanded. 
  I went for a run. 

  I got back in about 40 minutes, and decided to come into the apartment 
through a conveniently placed back door that entered the kitchen.  I'd 
like to say that I tiptoed into the place, but can you imagine me 
tiptoing anyplace.  No, I just walked in as quietly as I could and sat 
at the kitchen table reading the morning paper where I would not be seen 
when they were finished with whatever it was they were doing.  I assumed 
just wrestling. 
  Just then I heard a terrible moan from the spare room, then a sharp 
cry, almost a scream of pain.  I jumped up, thinking that Rima was in 
trouble, then I heard a gasping sound that I knew all too well.  It was 
the sound of someone being squeezed very hard, and it wasn't coming from 
Rima.  Another semi-screaming gasp, and I heard a man's voice choke out, 
"Give, for God's sake, I give!"  
  Ten minutes later the door to the room opened and I saw this lumbering 
giant being held up by a bitty girl as she escorted him to the door.  He 
was holding his midsection with his arm and breathing laboriously.  
  "You sure you don't want me to help you to your car? Rima asked, 
compassionately. 
  The giant could only shake his head 'no' and stumbled out the door 
groaning with every step.  Rima looked after him until he was in his car 
and on his way down the street.  Then she turned back and saw me 
standing there.  She wasn't even sweating--her red leotard totally 
unstained and incredibly, not even wrinkled.  I looked for signs of hard 
work on her face, but she just smiled and swept past me to the fridge 
where she took out a bottle of apple juice and drank from the container 
until she had lowered the level of the almost full bottle by nearly 
half. 
  "Wrestling always makes me soooo thirsty, " she said, and sat down and 
began to read the Living section of the newspaper. 
  The word for it.the term that accurately expresses what I felt at that 
moment is-"rattled!"  She had really rattled my cage, as the saying 
goes.  Between Rima and Kayla my whole concept of "woman" was blown 
apart-as was my whole notion of "man."  
  She looked up at me looking down at her, smiled a sly smile and said, 
"Now, where were we?  Oh, yes.  You were going to tell me what you think 
about the idea of wrestling me." 
  No words. 
  "S'matter? Cat got your tongue?" 
  I felt weak and had to sit down. So I pulled a chair out from the 
table, but before I could to through the motions of sitting, my knees 
gave way-my strong runner's knees buckled like bad cement and I went 
down on to the floor. 
  Rima slid from her chair and shocked me even more by straddling my lap 
and sat with her legs around my hips and her hands on my shoulders. 
  "You really are a Boy Scout, aren't you?" 
  I took a few deep breaths and sat there as she put her forehead 
against mine and just sat with me breathing deeply through her nose so 
that I would do the same.  Then she started humming softly, scooted up 
to me so that we were almost embracing and said, "It's okay Runner.  
Some men are boys all their lives and it's charming in some men.  It's 
okay to be a little afraid of a woman.  That's because you've begun to 
see the hidden little truth that women have known for eternity-that we 
are the stronger sex--genetically, intellectually, and physically.  It's 
good for you to be afraid.  Because fear keeps you from miscalculating 
when you deal with us, keeps you from underrating us, keeps you from 
making the same mistake that Olin and his kind make.  They want to 
dominate women, and they believe that all women are like the ones who 
allow themselves to become brutalized.  Olin just learned a painful 
lesson that I don't think he's going to want to forget." 
  She stroked my cheek once and pulled me up.not just helped me 
up.pulled me up to a standing position.  "I'm going to take a little 
nap, and then I'm going to come out and get you and demonstrate to you 
how strong a woman really is.  I won't hurt you if you don't anger me 
with stupidity.  Now go in and get into your running shorts. I'll see 
you in about an hour." 
  She went into her room and I went into mine.and started packing.  I 
got some clean underwear, a few pairs of socks, two pairs of jeans, a 
couple of pullover shirts, my razor and tooth and hair brushes, my 
running spikes and track gear, and yes, I tiptoed out the back door and 
down the steps.  I got to my touring bike with the side pouches, placed 
everything into them, and put my bike helmet on my head, strapping it 
firmly under my chin.  And then I rode for my life.  Fifteen miles 
later, I took a motel room not far from the track stadium, wheeled my 
bike inside, took a shower and went to sleep in my jockey shorts. 
  I never slept so hard and yet so badly.  All I could dream all night 
was of strong women twisting and squeezing and torturing men, and I 
could hear the cries of pain and the begging cry of "Give, give", but 
the women wouldn't give and the agony they inflicted on these poor 
fellas was frightening.  Then around two in the morning I sat up sharply 
in bed drenched in sweat.  I scooted back against the headboard and 
turned on the lamp on the night table.  I looked across the room and, 
like you read in every Stephen King, my blood literally turned into ice 
water and my heart started racing and palpitating in my chest. 
  She was sitting in the chair across the room.  Rima-sitting there 
studying me like a spider studies a fly just before she consumes him. 
  "What?  What are you doing here?  How did you get in?  How did you 
know I'd be here?" 
  Her voice was firm and just a bit throaty.  "Oh, come on, Runner. This 
is where all the athletes stay. It wasn't that hard to figure out.  And 
as to how I got in, I just told the night clerk I was your wife and that 
I didn't want to wake you, and he conveniently opened the door for me.  
Why I'm here isn't that hard to figure out either, is it.  We started 
something back there that we have to finish here tonight." 
  With that she stood and dropped her raincoat and was wearing only a 
thong, like Kayla had.  I jumped from the bed struck my knee on the night 
table and fell back onto the bed.  Without another word of warning she 
was on me.  In literally one second she had me in a schoolgirl pin.  God 
takes care of children and fools, and since I was pretty much of both I 
bridged and twisted, knocking her off balance and scampered from under 
her. 
  "I thought you didn't have any wrestling skills, " she said, genuinely 
surprised.  I was genuinely surprised too.  I was fighting from pure 
instinct-survival instinct. 
  I was standing on the bed now so she stood too and sauntered very 
unconcernedly toward me.  I feinted to the left and moved around her to 
the right, a nice move except that there wasn't any more bed on the 
right and I toppled face first to the floor.  
  Quick as a cat, she was on my back, grasping my chin with both hands 
from behind in a combination chin pull, camel clutch.  She had hands 
like pliers and was doing everything she could to break my neck, or so 
it felt.  But I had something going for me too.  One of the exercises my 
trainer had me doing for spine flexibility in the long jump was to lay 
prone, prop up on my elbows and arch my head and back which gave me a 
lot of leeway here.  So I arched just far enough to reach back and grab 
a clump of her hair and twist her off me to the right.  Then I jumped 
back onto the bed, energized and more ready than I'd ever been for 
combat.  But she was better.  And in a sudden downward move dove on her 
side and swept my legs out from under me with her legs. I'd no sooner 
hit the mattress but that she had me in a full nelson and a devastating 
body scissors, wrapping herself around me like an anaconda and 
controlling me like a puppet. I sensed that she could have made it a 
tighter move if she really wanted to hurt me, and when I tried to twist 
out of it she snapped her legs together and I screamed from present and 
remembered pain across three healing ribs and a sensitive abdomen.  I 
think the scream caught her off guard, because she hadn't intended to 
hurt me, and she whispered into my ear, "Are you all right, runner?"  I 
grimaced and nodded.  "Just tell me to let go, and I will.  Just say, 'I 
submit'."  She was being gracious, but no way in hell was I going to use 
that term, 'submit'.  She gave me a quick sharp skillfully measured 
squeeze, just enough to let me know she was in the driver's seat.  I 
yelped, and the room spun.  Quickly, she changed positions and caught me 
around the neck in what I knew was a sleeper hold.  "Oh no," I thought, 
"she's going to put me out," and the pressure began, gently at first and 
then, like she was gauging the diameter of my carotid arteries,  she 
slowly increased the force.  Everything began to get gray, and I knew 
she'd won.  A little cheerleader of a girl with the power of a gorilla-
she'd taken me out, and I felt embarrassed and ashamed.  And the gray 
deepened. And then suddenly I heard a shriek, and the pressure was 
completely off, and the lights began to come back on, and I felt the bed 
explode like someone was jumping onto it-or off.  Woozy as a bat in 
daylight, I managed to pivot on my butt in time to see her standing 
against the wall with her hand to her heart.  I didn't know what I had 
done to get her to release this potential death grip, but I was awfully 
proud of myself, and I almost gloated to see the terror in her face.  I 
figured I must have instinctively used some "last resort" technique I 
had learned in Naval Officer Training decades before.  And just as I was 
about to pat myself on the back I saw it, right in front of my face. 
Dangling on a thread from the ceiling beam directly above the bed at eye 
level was the biggest, blackest spider I'd ever seen, it's thick, black, 
hairy legs clawing in all directions just waiting to latch on to a human 
face and eat its way through the skull.  It must have come down right in 
front of her face and probably saved my life (or more likely my ego). 
And I was just about to laugh haughtily when I remembered that I'm a 
charter club member of the "Arachnophobia Society, and here I was 
looking this thing in the eye with gratitude and admiration.  Where a 
day ago I was terrified of spiders and comfortable with Rima, a second 
ago I was terrified of Rima and comfortable with spiders, now it's 
goodbye spider, hello Rima.  And with a shudder, I leaped from the bed 
and huddled against the wall with my human competitior. "Well, aren't 
you going to kill it?  She demanded. "Me?" I said, "I'm not going 
anywhere near that thing!" "Oh," she said with raised eyebrows, "a few 
seconds ago he was your bosom buddy." I pointed to her breasts, "More 
likely he's your bosom buddy." "So you're just going to stand there and 
do nothing?" "Sounds perfectly reasonable to me." I said, leaning 
against the wall with my arms crossed. She gritted her teeth and looked 
toward the creepy bug, then with a look of resolution threw her hands in 
the air, "Oh for Christ's sake!" she said, and marched over to the bed, 
snatched the startled spider off the thread and tramped into the 
bathroom where she smushed it with a wad of toilet paper and flushed it 
down the toilet. She came out frowning, "Okay, let's finish this thing.  
I want to put you out and get it over with!" "Uh-uh," I said. "What do 
you mean 'uh-uh'?" "No way I'm touching you until you wash that spider 
juice off your hands!" "Jesus!" she snapped, rolling her eyes to the 
ceiling, "I don't believe this." She washed, came out, snatched me by 
the arm with her vise grip hand and spun me toward the bed.  I jumped up 
quickly, but she caught my ankle and with a pull and lift, dumped me on 
my face, then jumped on my back, pulled my neck back and wrapped her 
legs around my throat in a figure 4 scissors.  It was awful.  And she 
was really putting her whole being into it.  My face got red hot and 
once again I was seeing stars.  Where the hell was that spider when you 
needed him?  At that point I would have welcomed a ferocious-looking 
ladybug.  It was going to be over too fast.  And since necessity is the 
mother of invention, I hooked my thumbs under both her 
knees and put tremendous pressure on the oblique popliteal ligaments 
and their underlying and overlying structures.  How did I know about the 
anatomy of the posterior knee? I'm a long-jumper, remember.  You don't 
jump for thirty years without learning something about the knee joint. 
As I prodded intensively, she let out a yelp and pulled her legs away, 
at which point I spun around to grab her and accidentally punched her in 
the mouth. All I could think (and I believe I verbalized this) was, "uh-
oh".  The minute it happened I saw it in her eyes-shock, animal rage, 
and a lust for killing, painfully and without mercy.  She licked a fleck 
of blood off her mouth and slowly and menacingly traced her lips with 
her tongue, like a cougar about to have dinner. "I.I'm really sorry 
Rima.  That was a complete and total accident.  I just misjudged my 
reach.  You know I'd never deliberately hurt you."  But I could see in 
her eyes that she was about to very thoroughly and deliberately hurt me.  
And she was going to enjoy every minute of it. I have never seen anyone 
go from a sitting position to an explosive rocketing position before.  
And she was all over me.  She caught me by what's left of my thinning 
hair, and pulled me into her crotch and closed the steel trap doors of 
her thighs against my head.  A Buick might as well have rolled back and 
forth across my brain, that's how bad it hurt. I was going into a swoon, 
when suddenly she jumped onto my lap, again pulled the hair forward, 
sitting me up against her breast and wrapped her feet around my waist, 
pinning my arms to my body with her rippling arms. I could feel her 
locking her ankles together and I said feebly, "For God's sake Rima 
don't cross your ankles," but she was not in the mood to be a good 
listener and she leaned back and stretched her legs with everything she 
had. Again, I cried out, and again.  Three times I squealed in pain but 
she had a deaf ear and again, I was going into the wild gray yonder. But 
before I could fall over she unlocked her legs pushed me onto my back 
and pinned me hard with a vicious grapevine.  Then she did something I 
never knew anyone could do at all, yet alone with such lethal 
efficiency. She began to pump her hips driving her pubis into my pubic 
bone and anywhere else in that area that she could maneuver.  Every 
other thrust hit my penis and it reeeaaaaly hurt.  And it was getting 
reeeaaaly erect in spite of the pounding it was getting.  And on and on 
she bucked until I couldn't stand the pain.  I was just about to throw 
in the towel when she rolled me on top of her, wrapped her legs around 
my waist and her arms just above that and gave me a squeezing that even 
Myla would have to admire.  It was awful, and it was wonderful, it was 
deadly and it was ecstatic, and finally it was explosive and I was wet 
and sticky, as she applied the last full pressure and I was out. The 
last thing I remember before I went into la-la land was he face looking 
up at me, her teeth clenched as she poured on the crushing pressure that 
would do me in.  And oddly, I noticed that she was sweating.  Well, at 
least she had to give me that much.  I made her break a sweat even as 
she proceeded to break me. 

When I got home later that day with the help of a cab that transported 
me and my bike to the apartment, I found that Rima was gone with all her 
possessions.  On her dresser was a note that read, "You wanted to 
wrestle a woman.  Remember next time: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR!" 

I have to get myself some new hobbies.