Crybaby
by brooksie   brooksie@pacificcoast.net
Jane introduces me to the Texas crybaby match


I sure was looking forward to this weekend. For the past eight years, I had
worked as a volunteer at a weekend-long folk festival. It was a great time,
lots of good music, interesting people to meet and, instead of having the
volunteer appreciation party on the last night of the festival when everyone
was fried, it was held two weeks later at the posh home of one of the festival
directors, a wealthy doctor. One of the volunteer co-ordinators, a woman named
Susan, and I had become good friends over the years. We often went out
together, although there was never anything romantic between us. Susan was
pretty and had a gorgeous head of curly blonde hair, but she was tall and thin
-- not my type. I like robust, athletically-built women, the more muscular the
better. Female bodybuilders are, in my opinion, the most beautiful women in
the world and I'd take "Women's Physique World" over "Penthouse" anyday. Susan
and I had never discussed my proclivity toward women of this type but, as I
was to discover, she had somehow picked up on it. Maybe she had noticed the
kind of women that caught my eye, or maybe it was the life-sized poster of
Andrulla Blanchette that took up one whole wall of my living room (just
kidding). Susan and I were having coffee when she told me her cousin Jane from
Texas was visiting for a few days and she was bringing her to the party, so
I'd get to meet her. "What's she like?" I asked and Susan looked at me with a
knowing smile saying "I think you'll really like her", emphasizing the word
"really". I tried to ask a few more questions about her cousin but she was not
divulging any more information. "You'll see, you'll meet her", was all she
would say. Susan had really piqued my curiosity and I wondered what it was she
thought I'd like so much about her cousin. At this point I still hadn't
figured out that she was aware of my weakness for female muscle. All I could
come up with is that perhaps she remembered me telling her about a trip to
Texas I made a couple of years ago and how much I'd liked the women I'd met
there because they seemed so friendly. I recall saying to her "You can
actually smile at a pretty girl on the street and she'll smile back!", unlike
the uptight northern city where I live. All that will usually bring is a dirty
look. So, maybe Jane was one of those friendly, outgoing Texas gals that had
made such an impression on me.

I arrived at the party around 2:00 pm. The house was in a ritzy, old money
neighbourhood, landscaped for complete privacy in the back, where there was a
swimming pool with a large deck and patio. Beyond that was a manicured lawn
with tables and chairs set up. So far, fifty or so people were there, about
one-third of the number that would ultimately show up, if past years were any
indication. The party was catered and beer and wine were provided, courtesy of
two of the festival's sponsors. I looked around and spotted some of the people
who worked on the same crew I did and went to say hi. It was a very hot summer
day and it wasn't long before we were in the pool, cooling off. Still no sign
of Susan and her cousin, but people were arriving in a steady stream and by
the time I got out of the water there were over a hundred people there,
including the band which was already into its first set. I kept running into
people I knew from previous years, got introduced to new people and, for a
while, forgot to keep an eye out for Susan and Jane.

I was sitting with a few people at a table in the back corner of the lawn
underneath a shade tree when I noticed Susan's head of golden curls visible
over the people dancing on the deck. As a volunteer co-ordinator she knew
practically everyone there, so she made slow progress through the crowd.
Eventually I saw her coming down the stairs towards the pool, accompanied by
an auburn-haired beauty who was three or four inches shorter than Susan's 5'
11". She wore a white blouse, tied at the midriff, jean shorts and cowboy
boots. Shorts and boots are not a good look unless the wearer has the legs for
it and this girl, obviously Susan's cousin Jane, certainly did. Her quads were
big and very cut, the muscle at the back of her thighs was prominent and her
meaty calves filled her boots tight. She had a trim waist, nicely-shaped arms,
wide shoulders and a broad, muscular back. Her shirt was stretched tight
across a pair of prodigious breasts that were hard to ignore. They were large,
round and firm. Supported by Jane's muscular back and chest, they stuck
straight out. She was also quite beautiful, very natural and fresh looking.
For the moment, I was content to watch her and Susan from my corner vantage
point. They were certainly attracting lots of attention, especially from some
of the guys in the pool who were trying to entice them into the water. Susan
was busy socializing but I could see that Jane looked interested. I saw Susan
point towards the door leading to the changing rooms and Jane disappeared
inside, emerging a few minutes later in a very brief turquoise coloured
bikini. As she walked towards the pool it suddently dawned on me why Susan had
been so coy about her cousin. Jane was clearly in great shape with a muscular,
athletic body. She dove into the water and I looked back to where Susan had
been standing, only she wasn't there any longer. She had spotted me and was
making her way around the pool, heading over to our table. I excused myself
and went to meet her. "Well, what do you think?" she asked. "About what?" I
replied, feigning innocence. "Oh come on." she chided, I was watching you when
Jane came out of the changing room. You couldn't take your eyes off her. I
knew you'd like her looks. It's the muscle thing, isn't it?" "You're right." I
confessed, "How'd you know? We've never talked about it." She looked at me
with a twinkle in her eye. "I've known for a long time. There are little signs
here and there and then sometimes there are great big billboards," she added
teasingly. "What do you mean?" I asked, feeling uneasy. Susan reminded me of
something that happended at the festival a couple of years back. "Remember
when those two women who worked on the security crew started comparing biceps
and decided to arm wrestle?" I nodded. "You know, I could have lifted your
wallet while that was going on and I'm no pickpocket. You were in another
world. That's when I knew for sure." "So you know what turns me on, now what?"
"Now nothing. It's funny, you seem ashamed for no reason I can see. We like
what we like, Paul and I'm betting you like Jane. She's sweet, too, really
friendly and nice. Tell you what, why don't you get us some drinks? White wine
for me and Jane'll have a beer. I'll go get her and meet you back here." I
couldn't believe my good fortune. Normally muscle girls like Jane intimidate
me. I get so nervous and tongue-tied around them that I'm afraid to even
introduce myself. Besides, I'm not exactly the bodybuilder type. At 5' 10''
and 175 lbs, I'm in decent shape but fairly average in the muscle department.
I'd always assumed that women with big muscles would want a guy that had them
too. But here I had ready made icebreaker in Susan and was free from having to
make the dreaded first move. I got the drinks and when I came back they were
sitting at the table, Jane still in her bikini and wet from her swim. The sun
glinted off her deeply tanned skin and I could see from up close that her
muscles were even more cut and defined than I'd thought at first. Susan
introduced us, "Paul, I'd like you to meet my cousin Jane." I passed Susan her
wine and handed Jane a beer, saying "I hope this is OK." "Yeah" she said with
a smile "thanks, Paul."

We sat there for an hour or so and Susan was right. Jane was sweet, friendly,
easy to talk to and had that open, accessible quality I remembered about Texas
women. Time passed by so fast I hadn't noticed I was starving until my stomach
growled. We all laughed and decided it was time to chow down. After eating we
began to mingle and visit other friends. I knew lots of people there but had a
hard time concentrating on conversations. I kept looking around to see where
Jane was. As the evening wore on I decided to take advantage of the pool on
more time and changed back into my trunks. I was just kind of floating and
hanging out in the water when a pair of arms slipped under mine and around my
shoulders, pulling me backwards. Then I felt two strong thighs around my waist
and heard Jane giggle "Gotcha, partner." I laughed and she squeezed me lightly
before letting go. I swam up to her and said "You're feeling frisky."
"Actually" she replied "I'm kinda tired and probably had one or two drinks too
many. I think we're going to go soon. "Oh" I said, betraying my obvious
disappointment. "But listen," she said "Susan has to go into the festival
office for a few hours tomorrow and I was thinking we could do something, if
you're not too busy." We made arrangements for me to call her the next day. "I
think we're going to have some fun," she said, then dove underwater and came
up behind me. She grabbed me around the neck and dunked my head. As I came up
sputtering I saw her climbing out of the pool, laughing. I was just about
ready to get out of the pool myself when Susan came over. "Hey see you later,
Paul. You and Jane have fun tomorrow, OK?" I didn't see any problem there. The
rest of the party was a blur. All I could think about was Jane and how playful
she seemed. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

I called the next morning, not too early, and asked her to lunch. After we
ate, we took a walk in a beautiful downtown park, sipping take- out caffe
lattes. Jane had never tried espresso before and I was enjoying introducing
her to the pleasures of fine coffee. We sat down on a bench and I showed her
the top of my apartment building, barely visible over the trees. We tossed our
empty cups into the trash and continued walking. We were laughing and horsing
around a bit when Jane suddenly got behind me, wrapped her arms around my
chest in a bearhug and lifted me right off my feet. She held me up for a few
seconds then tossed me down to the grass and quickly scrambled on to my chest,
her knees pinning my arms and her hands holding my wrists down. "Gotcha
again." she said with a big smile. "Having fun?" I asked, looking up at her
breasts looming over me. "I love wrestling" she laughed. She pronounced it
"rasslin'". She rolled off me and we lay side by side on the grass. "I do it
all the time, mostly with girls from the gym where I work out. I did some in
high school too." She paused for a second then, looking right at me said in a
husky tone ."But what I like best is wrestling men and making them submit to
me. She arched her eyebrow and, with a look of pure mischief, slowly licked
her lips. If this was a contest to see who could tantilize the other the most,
she was definitely ahead. I was having a hard time containing myself! I have
always loved wrestling with my girlfriends and had dreamt of doing it with a
woman who was strong enough to win without me having to throw the match in
some way. I decided to see how serious she was. "Don't you mean men who are
willing to let you think you're making them submit?" I said, patronizingly.
She sat up and raised her arms, showing off her biceps. Her arms were large
and firm but when she flexed them, two enormous peaks of hard muscular balls
appeared. I'd measured my own arms, pumped, at fifteen and half inches and
these were substantially bigger. "Go ahead: she said "Feel 'em." Not only were
they bigger than mine, but much harder. "Wanna rassle?" she said and we both
started giggling. Jane leaned over and gave me a kiss on the neck. "Come on"
she whispered in my ear." She jumped up and pulled me to my feet and we headed
off towards my place.

Once inside my apartment, we looked around and figured out how to clear enough
space for wrestling. "Can we use that?" she asked, pointing at the futon on
the couch. We pulled that off and laid it in the middle of the room. I was
wearing shorts and took off my shoes an tee shirt. Jane had on a pair of
shorts and a T-back type workout top. She was also barefoot. She put her hands
around my neck and said "How 'bout we do this the way we do back home?" I gave
her a puzzled look. "I'd like to introduce you ( or, more accurately, "Ah'd
lak tu interduce yew") to the Texas crybaby match." "What's that? I asked.
"Well sweetheart, that's where we wrestle until one of us makes the other one
cry." "You're joking?" She reached over and took hold of my chin, squeezing
hard. "No baby, I'm not. Mama wants to see those tears come out of her little
boy's eyes." She was starting to talk to me as if I were a child. "Don't worry
darlin', I won't make it hurt too bad." I was shocked at the transformation
taking place in her. "But I am going to make you cry, I just need to get rid
of these" she said, unbottoning her shorts and letting them fall to the floor,
"and this." She peeled off her top and tossed it aside. She stood before me
wearing only a tiny thong bottom, her hands on her hips. Those very full, very
firm breasts were mesmerizing. "Come on now" she cooed "my little crybaby."
With that, she sprang at me and we began to grapple. I tried to take her down
by grabbing her shoulders but I couldn't move her. She backed me up a few
steps, put her arms between mine and easily broke my grip. Then she spun
around and trapped my arms against my body, squeezing me from behind. She
leaned back slightly, preventing me from twisting out of her grip and
tightened her arms. The air left my lungs and I started to grunt as I
struggled to free myself. "Getting hard to breathe, baby?" she whispered, her
mouth next to my ear. Jane jerked me sideways and we went down, her still
holding me fom behind. Before I could recover, she switched holds, getting me
in a full nelson. She then used that to pull me over into her waiting thighs.
She wasted no time in securing both grips. My elbows were being pressed
together in the tightest full nelson I'd ever felt. Usually I can figure out a
way to slip one of my arms out of this hold, but not this time. She held her
legs perfectly straight, right around my ribcage, ankles elevated using the
power of her glutes and legs. I could feel immediately the difference between
this and the scissors holds my girlfriends had got on me. Most women try to
squeeze their knees together or bend their legs or something like that. Jane
started rocking me back and forth, adding to the pain of both her powerful
locks. I could see no way out and submitted. "No baby, there are no
submissions, that's not how it works. I want to hear you cry, just like a
little baby." "No please Jane, let me go. You win, I give." she applied more
pressure and I groaned and pleaded for release. "I'm beat. Please, you win."
"I know I win sweetheart, I always win. And I know it hurts but you're going
to have to show me some real tears before I can make it all better." Still
holding me tight in the full nelson, she relaxed the scissors for a few
seconds, then squeezed again. She kept this up for the next several minutes,
relaxing, then squeezing hard, relaxing again. She varied the length of time
between bursts form her potent thighs, making a psychological torture out of
it as I never knew when the next jolt was coming. She leaned her head forward
and said "No tears yet? Tell you what, let's try something else." She turned
me over onto my stomach and quickly moved around in front of me, swinging her
legs up over my shoulders, capturing me in a front head scissors with my chin
resting on her lower abdonem. She held my wrists and began to squeeze again. I
felt her thighs dig into the side of my neck and compress my jaw and
immediately became light-headed. Again I tried to give up but she refused my
submission. "You know what I want." She let go of my wrists and used her arms
to support her head, as she leaned back and really started to work the hold. I
begged for mercy but she merely grinned and shook her head. After a minute or
so of this I felt sleepy and everything seemed kind of grey. She pulled my
arms forward and placed my hands on her breasts. "Don't these feel nice?
Wouldn't you like to suck on them, baby?" She murmered sweetly. "I know it
hurts baby but there's only one way for you to make it stop. It's alright to
cry, there's no need to be ashamed." Another ferocious jolt from her legs and
tears welled up in my eyes. In pain and confused, I began to whimper. "Please
Jane, no more. Please!" I cried, tears flowing now. She unwrapped her legs
from around my head and got to one knee. Then she pulled me into a sitting
position and applied a sleeper hold. "It will all be over soon. She breathed
into my ear. You're going to take a little nap and when you wake up, Mama's
gonna make it all better." The last thing I remember is putting my hand on her
arm and feeling how huge and hard it was. Then everything went black.

I awoke to see Jane standing over me, naked. As I slowly regained my senses
and recalled what had happened, I began to feel truly afraid. "Please" I cried
"I can't take any more. I'll do anything you want just please, no more." I sat
up and hugged her leg, resting my head against it and openly sobbing. She
knelt and pulled my face into her heaving bosom. "There, there, it's ok. It's
all over, little one. Momma's not going to hurt you anymore." She fed me her
breast, its nipple fully erect. "Suck it" she ordered. "Oh yeah, that's it,
keep doing that." She rolled over on her back and held me tightly against her,
telling me not to stop suckling her. Soon she was in a state of sexual frenzy
screaming "Oh God, oh God!" I felt her stiffen and then go into the most
convulsing orgasm I'd ever witnessed a woman have. The sheer erotic power of
it nearly made me come. I heard her voice, now hoarse and raspy beg "Fuck me,
please, fuck me now!" and I guided my cock into her wet pussy. She kissed me
so hard I thought my lips would be crushed, then broke it off and let out
piercing shriek as she came again. Her strong legs gripped me tight and I had
the most intense, quivering orgasm of my life. I began to sob, with pleasure
this time and we lay there, whimpering in each other's arms and both drifted
off to sleep.

When we woke up about 45 minutes later we were practically stuck together.
"How about a shower? I suggested. "Ok" she sighed "But we're going to have to
go together because I'm not letting you go right now." Arm in arm, we wobbled
down the hall and into the bathroom, indulging in a long, hot shower. Finally
we turned off the water, dried each other, got dressed and went into the
kitchen. I poured us both glasses of water and we sat there in silence. Each
of us seemed to be waiting for the other to speak. I went first. "What the
hell did you do to me?" I demanded. She giggled and said "I erased the line
between reality and fantasy. It gets to a different part of the brain and the
level of stimulation and release is greatly enhanced." You can say that again,
I thought. "So your fantasy is..." I couldn't figure out exactly what it was.
"It has do with a need to have total control, to reduce my opponent to a
child-like state where I can mother and nurture them. But I can't just find
someone who likes acting helpless because it's mixed up with the part of me
that likes wrestling and gets off on the combat and the the physical contact.
I like being able to overpower a guy and make him admit he's helpless due to
my own power and ability, not just because he decided to play along. You see,
it's complicated Paul, but most good fantasies are." She continued, "I enjoy
being strong and having muscles like this," she flexed her bicep, "because it
makes me feel good physically and it heightens my sexuality. I know I'm strong
and athletic and I know what that does to certain men." "And I'm one of those,
right?" "Yep, you sure are, sweetheart." She gave my hand a squeeze. "How did
you know?" "It was pretty easy. Susan told me you were attracted to muscular
women and I know that most men who are, fantasize about competing with them in
some way. Some of those fantasies are mild, like getting beat at tennis or her
being able to do more situps, that kind of thing but a lot of fantasies
involve some form of combat. The ones who like getting spanked, whipped or
even beaten up aren't the kind of men I'm talking about. They're not looking
for competition, but lots of guys who go for muscles on a woman are into the
idea of wrestling. I started fooling around with you in the pool and in the
park to see how you'd react." "So you had this all planned out?" "Yeah, I
guess I did. Hope you're not mad." she said, giggling again. ' "What about the
crybaby stuff? I've never even thought about that kind of thing." "Hmm, let's
see" she mused, thinking about how to answer "the tears and the crying part
arouse me in the sense that I know I've conquered you both physically and
psychologically. Elements of fear, shame, humiliation and disbelief all mix
together to create confusion in the brain causing the guy to have an
overwhelming need for things to be simplified. In that frame of mind, he's
ready to submit completely. Knowing that I've put a guy into that condition
fulfills my fantasy and...well, you know what happened then. I"m always
careful not to use holds that could cause any real damage like armbars or
leglocks, nothing that works on joints. Scissors work pretty well because they
slowly wear a person down." "So why did you put me out?" "Oh, the sleeper."
she chuckled "I just went with my instinct. I know that regaining
consciousness and gradually realizing you've been put to sleep has a very
powerful psychological effect. I figured it would add to the experience." She
smiled slyly "I'd say it was a success, wouldn't you?"

I sat back in amazement. Jane was displaying an extremely sophisticated grasp
of human sexuality, as well as the ability to articulate her thoughts clearly
and casually. It occurred to me that if I had repressed sexual fantasies I
needed to discuss, she had exactly the type of demeanour I'd hope to encounter
in a professional therapist.

Looking back, I'd say that was the moment the scheme was hatched. One good
plan deserves another I always say.

Epilogue:

Jane went back to Texas but she and I continued to have a relationship. I flew
down several times over the next few months, each time bringing gifts of books
on psychology and sexuality. She began to express an interest in furthering
her education in this area. One of the best schools in the country for that
type of course happened to be in the city where I lived. I asked her to come
back to live with me. We pooled our resouces and put her through university.
Shortly after she graduated we were married. She is now one of the most
successful and respected sex therapists in the country, still muscular and
athletic and one hell of a good wrestler.