The Interview (my story)
by brooksie     brooksie@pacificcoast.net
An interview with a female journalist turns out to be more than I bargained for.

 I sat at the computer, staring at the screen re-reading my latest
story. I did some final editing, checked for spelling mistakes and
typos...ok, looks good. Save as a text file, cut and paste into the mail
program and hit "send". That's it, I'm done. I'll just check my e-mail
and shut it down for the night. Three new messages, let's see what we've
got. My
brother, a friend and a name I didn't recognize. I read the messages
from my brother and my friend first, banged out a pair of quick replies
and looked at the other one. It was from Jessica Rogers. Hmm, who is
she? I opened it and read:

"Hi brooksie,

  My name is Jessica Rogers and I'm a freelance writer working on a
magazine article about mixed fighting. I came across your stories while
surfing the net one day and really liked them. Quite well written. Good
job! I'm interested in interviewing you for my piece. You wouldn't have
to be identified, your "nom de plume" would be fine. Please let me know
if you'd be willing to talk to me about your writing and your interest
in women who enjoy wrestling.
                      Regards,
                               Jessica Rogers

PS - keep up the good work, you're an excellent writer."

Well, I certainly didn't expect that. I mean, I'm used to getting
feedback. Since I've been posting stories on this site I've received
lots of e-mail, most of it complimentary, but an interview request was
something right out of the blue. My interest in writing about and
wrestling women, especially those that are strong and skilled enough to
defeat me was a secret passion, one I wasn't sure I wanted to be too
public about. She did say she wouldn't need to identify me for the
article though, so I guess I could respond and see exactly what she had
in mind. I thought about it for another few minutes and decided to post
a reply.

"Dear Jessica,

  Thanks for the compliments. I'm glad you enjoyed the stories. Can you
tell me a little more about this article you're writing - where it will
be published, who else have you, or will you be speaking to, what sorts
of questions do you want to ask me, will it be an on-line interview
etc.?"

The next day, I received another message from her.

"Thanks for your reply, brooksie. I'm writing the article for a new
venture called "TuffGirls". It's an on-line magazine, about women who
participate in combat sports, strength and fitness contests, extreme
sports, bodybuilding and so on. I also have interest in the piece from a
few fetish publications and a national women's magazine and expect to be
doing a few TV and radio appearances promoting it. My article will
mainly cover ultimate fighting, boxing and wrestling. I've already
interviewed a few of the women who do wrestling "sessions" as well as
some of their clients. I'm interested in getting beyond the professional
type of situation and finding women who wrestle for reasons other than
purely financial. I've made contact with amateur women's wrestling
'clubs' as well as some high school and college level wrestlers. My
interest in speaking with you is to explore the subculture behind mixed
wrestling. I'd be asking questions such as, what your personal interest
is in mixed wrestling, why you write stories about it, where you get
your ideas and inspiration from, i.e. do you have any personal
experiences to draw on. Also, your opinions and attitudes about women
who wrestle, especially those that are truly capable of defeating men. I
find your writing particularly realistic, which is why I asked you if
you'd be willing to participate. If you'd like, I could send you
examples of my previously published work."

To say I wasn't intrigued would be absurd. Of course I was! Still, this
was a closely guarded secret of mine. None of my friends had any idea I
was involved in this sort of thing. I read Jessica's message over
several times, thinking about how to respond. At one point I realized
she hadn't said how the interview would be conducted - online, over the
phone or in person? I decided to ask before agreeing to do it. Two days
went by and there was no reply from her. On the morning of the third day
I downloaded a new message. It was her, apologizing for the delay and
explaing she's been out of town, visiting a private wrestling club and
doing interviews. She'd also been allowed to watch some of the matches
and take a few photos for the article. Jessica said she'd prefer to do
the interview in person. She wrote:

"I'm assuming by your e-mail address you live on the west coast. I'll be
in Vancouver on business in about two weeks. Do you live anywhere
nearby? I'd be willing to cover your expenses if you could get to
Vancouver for a day."

The message also included an attachment containing two articles she'd
published in recognized, reputable magazines. They were well-written and
articulate, showing the results of good research and were obviously the
work of an intelligent, motivated writer. One was a profile of a female
boxer, the other on women's bodybuilding. She seemed to have a personal
interest in strong, competitive women herself. Now it was getting down
to decision time. I didn't live that far from Vancouver, only three
hours away and my schedule was flexible enough to allow me to take a day
to do this if I wanted. But did I want to? She'd offered to pay
expenses, so that wasn't an issue. I finally decided I had nothing to
lose. Sure there was a possibility that someone could see the article,
look up my stories on the net, recognize my e-mail address and I'd be
out of the mixed wrestling closet, so to speak, but so what? I'd been
hiding this part of me for so long, like it was something to be ashamed
of that I was beginning to feel burdoned by the weight of carrying the
secret. I e-mailed Jessica back, saying I would do it. She replied
within a few hours thanking me for agreeing to the interview and saying
she was delighted. She proposed a couple of dates and I confirmed one
with her. She got back to me saying if I could make a 1:00 pm lunch, her
treat, we'd do the interview back at her hotel room afterwards. I
told her that would be fine and received one final message with the name
of the restaurant where we were to meet, thanking me once again and
saying how much she was looking forward to meeting the "famous brooksie
(ha-ha, just kidding)"  At least she has a sense of humour, I thought.

As the day of the interview drew near, I found myself starting to feel
nervous. I wondered how I'd be portrayed. Would I come off as some kind
of  freak or weirdo? I guess that was really my biggest fear. But
Jessica's other articles hadn't been exploitive in any way and she had
given me no reason to think I was being included as a representitive of
some kind of social deviant faction. Still, no matter how much I tried
to pull myself together, by the time I stepped out of the cab in front
of the restaurant where Jessica and I were to meet, I was a bundle of
nerves and a mess of conflicted feelings. I was about ten minutes early,
so I elected to take a walk and see if I could settle myself down. I was
only partially successful, none-the-less I pulled open the door to the
restaurant and waited for the hostess. I told her I was joining someone
who was likely already there, a woman named Jessica Rogers. "Oh yes" she
said, smiling brightly, "She's right over there." She indicated a table
near the back occupied by a pretty, dark, Latino-looking woman with
long, thick, very black hair. She was wearing a fairly conservative,
off-white pantsuit. She rose as I approached the table and gave me a
quick once-over before extending her arm. Her expression was friendly,
but one more of mild curiousity than a big, schmoozy smile. I liked
that. As we shook hands and exchanged greetings, I noticed her firm
grip. She was fairly tall, maybe 5' 8 - 5' 9 with broad shoulders and
nice calves.

We sat down and she asked if I wanted anything to drink. I smiled and
shook my head no.
"I guess it is a bit early." she said.
I told her it wouldn't make any difference what time it was, as I didn't
drink.
"Not at all?" she asked, sounding surprised.
"Nope" I replied, "does that disappoint you?"
"No, not a bit" she quickly answered "I just wasn't expecting it. You're
getting more interesting all the time, brooksie. Do you so anything
else?"
"You mean drugs? No, not that either."
"Smoke cigarettes?"
"I'm trying to quit."
"Ah-ha" she smiled "So you're not Mr. Clean after all."
"I never said anything about being Mr. Clean. I have a checkered past."
"I see" she noddd knowingly "12-Step program?"
I looked her right in the eyes, fixed my gaze and said "So Jessica, you
look Spanish or Mexican, where are you from?"
She laughed and said "All right brooksie, I get it. Stick to the
subject, right?"
"Something like that."
"You seemed to give my interview request a lot of thought. Are you
nervous about doing this?"
For the first time I really noticed her voice. It was lovely - musical,
resonant and nicely modulated. I'm a former broadcaster and have always
had an ear for voices. Hers was fabulous. I was so engrossed by it I
almost forgot I'd benn asked a question. "Oh, ah, yes I am nervous." I
replied.
"Well, let's have lunch, get to know each other a bit and see if we can
put you a little more at ease."
"Sure" I said, "sounds good."

Lunch was great, the food, service, atmosphere - everything. I noticed
Jessica had a hearty appetite and, unlike a lot of women, did not seen
to be ashamed of it. She packed away a large plate of pasta, salad and
garlic bread. I asked most of the questions and found out she did indeed
have a personal interest in the subject matter of her article. She'd
taken some martial arts training and had a background in athletics, mostly
track, basketball and volleyball. She was also an avid mountain biker
and rock climber. As we walked back to her hotel, I took note of her
long strides,
good posture and overall athletic gait. She had coffee brought up to the
room and asked me to pour while she changed into more comfortable
clothes. She had a good-sized suite with a seperate bedroom, which she
disappeared in to. Nice digs, I thought to myself. I wondered if she's
paying for this herself. She had said she was here on business, but 
that was all I knew.

When Jessica came out, she had on a loose-fitting track suit. "I'm
planning on a workout this afternoon." she explained.
"This is a nice room" I remarked "are you paying for it?"
"No, my travel and accomodation costs are being covered."
"What sort of business is it that brings you here?"
"Oh, I'm working on a writing project."
She was non-committal, offering no details so I left it at that. After
all, if I didn't want her prying, why should I? She put a small tape
recorder on the table.
"Are you feeling more relaxed now, brooksie?"
I took a sip of coffee and settled back in my chair. "Yeah" I answered
"I think I am."
"Ok, how about we get started then?"
"Sure."
She reached over and turned on the tape recorder.

"How long have you been interested in the idea mixed wrestling?"
"A long time, since I was old enough to be interested in girls, I
guess."
"When was that?"
"When I was around 12 years old."
"How old are you now?"
"Forty-two."
"So this has been a part of you for thirty years. What is it about mixed
wrestling that appeals to you?"
"It's a combination of a lot of things. I like strong, muscular women, I
always have. Physically, I'm more attracted by women with muscle than
any physical attributes. I also like the idea of women exerting
themselves, using their strength, skill and ability to compete against
men. I've never been one who believes that women are necessarily the
weaker sex. Things have
changed a lot in my lifetime. When I was young it was unusual for women
to even do anything athletic, especially beyond school years."
"Are you excited by the idea of a women having power or control?"
"Without a doubt. That's a big part of it for me. Also taking pride in
their strength and ability. The most sensual image in the world to me is a
female proudly flexing her muscles after she's made her opponent submit
to her. I like tomboy-ish women who have a competitive streak, at least
as far as physical activites go."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Women, or men for that matter, who are competitive in all areas, all
the time, are usually a complete pain in the ass. But the idea of a woman
struggling against a man in a wrestling match and being able to subdue
him and force him to give in to her is endlessly fascinating to me. But
that's just the ultimate extension of it. I mean, I can be walking by a
tennis court and if I see a woman who's obviously better than her male
opponent, I can't stop myself from watching."
"Is it only a mixed thing? What if it were two women and one was
decisively beating the other?"
"Oh yeah, I would find that compelling as well?"
"So you're interested in the idea of women wrestling other women as
well?"
"Absolutely, and some of my stories reflect that."
"I'd like to ask about your stories in a minute but before I do, I'm
wondering if you think there are very many women who would be capable of
defeating the average man in a wrestling match?"
"Oh boy, that's a tough question to answer. I guess it depends on what
you mean by the average man.  I mean, if you just stood on a street corner
and started matching up women and men randomly, you probably wouldn't
find too many. But if you were to deliberately seek out women who were
strong and athletic and pit them against an average guy, the ratio would
change dramatically. I was just reading a profile of the woman who won
the Emerald Cup. That's a bodybuilding contest held near Seattle. She's
5' 7, 170lbs. and can bench press 265lbs. That's way more than the
average guy can do. If she had any kind of wrestling training, and it
sounded like she may have, she could probably beat a lot of guys. Now
she's an exceptional woman obviously, but there are a lot of females who
could do well in wrestling who are not competitive bodybuilders but just
normal women in good shape. The problem is that most women have been
conditioned to believe they can't do
something like that or, if they can, they shouldn't. It's not feminine.
I think most women place a great deal of limitations on themselves when it
comes to physical activities, especially anything involving combat. It's
different in martial arts because there isn't that culture of
stereotypical
male/female roles. The discipline requires that everyone be treated
equally because size does not necessarily determine the victor. And look
at boxing. The boxing establishment wants no part of women's boxing.
It's not covered in the magazines, not promoted. Maybe this new movie
"Girlfight" will do something to change that, but I doubt it. Look at
that fighter from
Holland, uh, Lucia Rjyker is it? She's supposed to be the best female
boxer in the world and she can't find anyone to fight. Anyway, as for a
friendly wrestling match, it's a lot more even than many people think. I
had a girlfriend once who was 5' 1, about 115-120 lbs. who wound up being able
to beat me on a regular basis but only after I was able to assure her I
wouldn't be devastated by losing to her. When we first started wrestling
I know she was holding back. You can always tell when someone is doing
that. I think she regarded it more as foreplay. It took a lot of convincing to
get her comfortable with the idea of going all out and also for her to feel
alright about winning. Women tend to feel they're either somehow
unfeminine or that the guy must be a total weakling if she beats him."
I paused, more to take a breath than anything else.
"And you didn't feel badly about her beating you?"
"No, not at all. She was a former gymnast, very athletic and strong,
especially her legs. She usually won with scissor holds or a grapevine.
I was proud of her and very excited by her ability to do that. You know,
it was wrestling. We weren't fighting. There were no blows or anything
dirty like choking. In a streetfight I would have won easily but, within
the limitations of straight wrestling, we were on a more even footing.
The strongest person doesn't always win at wrestling, and besides,
strength takes many forms. Speed, skill, knowledge and strategy are all
involved and endurance is also very important.
"You said you were excited by her ability to beat you. I assume you mean
excited in a sexual way?"
"Excited generally, but yes, in that way too. To tell you the truth,
shortly after we got together she discovered I have extremely sensitive nipples
and can sometimes be brought to orgasm just by having them sucked on.
She often used that against me. She would start licking and sucking on
them and when she had me distracted enough, would get me in a scissors
or some other hold. Lots of times I would be begging not so much because
I wanted her to release the hold but because I wanted her to go back to
using her mouth and tongue on my nipples."
"Tricky" said Jessica, laughing. "So is sexual activity important, or
even essential to your enjoyment of mixed wrestling?"
"It depends on the type of relationship I have with the woman. I've had
girlfriends I've wrestled with, like the one I just mentioned and other
situations where the women have sexually dominated me after defeating me
in wrestling. I think wrestling brings that out in some women. A lot,
actually. It makes them horny. But not every wrestling match I've had
has involved sexual contact."
"Does that make it less enjoyable?"
That question cracked me up. "What's so funny?" she asked.
"Well, I guess it's always less enjoyable not having sex than having
it."
She looked embarassed and blushed. "That was kind of a dumb question.
Let me rephrase it."
"No, don't bother," I interrupted. "I know what you mean. The answer is
that I enjoy it reagrdless. I've wrestled women who weren't interested in
attaching any sexual component to it at all. It was just an athletic
competition, like playing squash or something. To wrestle with a woman
who is strong and skilled and is giving it her all, that's very
pleasurable, sex or no, especially if she is victorious."
"But I'm guessing that whether there is sexual activity or not,
wrestling with a woman appeals to you on an erotic level, no?"
"Sure. I mean it's simple really. I'm a sexual submissive and like women
to take charge and control the love-making. I like to be dominated but not
in the way a lot of people might think. The so-called "dom" scene, you
know bondage, whips, chains, leather,  does nothing for me at all. I
would never be able to submit to some woman who just expected me to do so. I admire
strong, muscular women and get stimulated by the idea of competing
against them in wrestling."
"Do you ever just let a woman win?"
"Oh yeah, playwrestling around with girlfriends who wouldn't be able to
really beat beat me, that's fun. But finding a woman who can really
wrestle and is willing to give it her all, that's on a different level
entirely."
"When was the first time you ever wrestled a female?"
"It was actually the first time I was alone with a girl. I was around 12
or so. Her name was Sandy and we went for a walk in the woods. We just
started fooling around wrestling and she got me in a body scissors. I
couldn't escape and she eventually made me give up. Her legs were quite
muscular and strong. Soon after that I saw a wrestling match between a
guy and a girl at school. He was a big guy, on the hockey team I think
and she was much smaller and slimmer but she had him in a hold where she
had one of his legs crossed over the other one and had that leg bent up
over the ankle of the one that was crossed over. He couldn't free
himself and she made him admit that women were superior in front of
about twenty witnesses. Those were my earliest experiences. My first
steady girlfriend and I wrestled quite a lot and she beat me every time.
She was a farmgirl and was quite strong, plus she knew how to wrestle.
She usually got me face down in a hammerlock. I remember the last time
we wrestled. She got me in that hold and asked me how many times she'd
done that to me. I think I said 10 and she put more pressure on my arm
and said 'how many?'. I increased it to 20 and she twisted harder. This
went on for several times until she had me saying 'a million' before she
let me go."
"So what about yor stories, brooksie. Are they fantasies or factual or
some combination of the two?"
"The answer is yes, yes to all three. Some of them are pure imagination,

others are actual accounts of events that have happened to me and some
have a basis in fact but have been embellished."
"One of my favourites is Ms. Olympus. That doesn't happen to be one of
the true ones, does it?"
"I'm flattered you know them that well. That one is half true. Part One
describes Kathy accurately, including how I met her and how strong and
muscular she was. Unfortunately I could never talk her into wrestling,
so Part Two is entirely made up."
"Which ones are true then?"
"Easy Come, Easy Go and Instant Annihilation are the only completely
factual ones. The wrestling scenes in The Exchange Student, Annabelle and Angela
are accurate, although other details are fabricated. The Champ was based
on a real incident and Tomboy was inspired by a girl I actually saw at a
Farmer's market. Crybaby,  Aerobics vs Weights and the Sisters series
are entirely fiction."
"Why do you write them?"
"It allows me to indulge my fixation with mixed wrestling. I don't share
these thoughts with anyone. I keep it secret and that gets to be a
burden. Although I've had some opportunities to wrestle women, for the
most part this is a fantasy world for me and writing gives me an outlet
for those thoughts. Getting involved in the internet site where my
stories are posted has been a great thing for me. Exchanging email and
talking to people in the chatroom is wonderful. It's a place where I can
share my repressed thoughts and feelings. I've even met a couple of
women online who like to wrestle and I find communicating with them very
stimulating. It also helps me develop the female perspective in my
stories. I have a good idea of why it's enjoyable from the male point of
view but it is really enlightening to hear from women who enjoy
dominating men in wrestling matches."
"What do they tell you?"
"Well some use it as sexual foreplay, you know, defeating their
boyfriends or husbands and forcing them to sexually gratify them. They like to be
in charge of the sexual arena, so to speak. But there are others who
just enjoy the physical challenge and like the sense of power and
strength they derive from being being victorious over men and women."
"Have you ever had a session with any of the women who wrestle for
money?"
"No, I haven't. I don't travel that much and there aren't any that I
know of where I live. I have recently been in touch with a couple that live here
in Vancouver, so I'm planning on setting up a match with one of them in
the near future. But at $300.00 an hour plus hotel and travel costs,
it's not something I'm going to be able to afford to do very often. I
also don't know how I feel about paying for it. I mean, it's not that
much different than hiring a prostitute in some ways, although I'm sure
the women wouldn't appreciate the comparison. And I don't mean it that
way either. I know it's not a sexual service and I'm not looking for
that. I guess the thing I'm most concerned about is that I might really
enjoy it, in fact, I'm sure I would and it could become like an
addiction, something I would find myself spending all my spare money
on."
"So you would prefer to keep your fascination with wrestling on a
fantasy level then?"
"I would prefer to find a partner who would like including it as part of
our sexual activities and is strong enough to actually defeat me, but that
limits the field severly. Life goes on and I'm not getting any younger,
so it may not happen. Besides, a relationship needs to be based on more
than just a mutual enjoyment of wrestling. So I might find that paying
for sessions is a good solution for me."
"Do you think you could ever find fulfillment with a woman who couldn't,
or wouldn't wrestle?"
"I don't know."
"Have you ever thought about it from the opposite perspective?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm talking about woment who like to wrestle but are in situations
where they can't indulge their passion; women who have husbands or partners
who aren't interested in wrestling or wouldn't feel comfortable about
the women in their lives doing something like that."
"Hmm, that's an unusual question. I haven't specifically thought about
that."
"One of the things I've noticed in researching this story is that there
are far more opportunities for women to compete in martial arts and even
boxing, to a more limited degree, than there are in wrestling. Even in
professional wrestling, which isn't wrestling at all in the minds of the
women I've
spoken with, there are very few female competitors. Once they get out of

school there's nothing, really. It's all underground. I think women who
enjoy wrestling have the hardest time of all in finding outlets.
"I see. I guess some of my stories revolve around women who are eager to

find opportunities to wrestle. The story you mentioned, Ms. Olympus, had
that scenario."
"Do you believe women like that are out there?"
"Sure. I guess that's why I keep searching. I've been in long-term
relationships that I probably would have stayed in. They were great in
every other way. I just found that in the end, I felt I had to move on.
I always had a sense of dissatisfaction becasue I couldn't get the
wrestling thing off my mind."

She reached over and shut off the tape recorder.
"Are we done?" I asked.
"I think so. You were very succinct. I think I've got all I need for the
story. If I think of anything else, can I email you?"
"Yes, absolutely."
"Great. Are you feeling ok about having done it, no regrets?"
"No, none. It was actually a relief to share some of this with someone.
And I have to say Jessica, you were great. I was very nervous about being
judged or coming off as some kind of wierd pervert but you seem, I don't
know...almost accepting of this fetish."
"You didn't expect me to be so empathetic?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. Experience, I guess. Most women aren't."
"Well I'm not most women, as you're about to find out."
"What do you mean?"
"Look, I really appreciate how open and honest you've been in this
interview, brooksie. And I want to be just as honest in return. I didn't
contact you only to speak with you for this article, and I could have
done it on-line or by phone. I had a feeling from reading your stories
you would make a good interview but also that you would be someone I
could go further with."
"Go further?"
"Brooksie, I'm one of those women we were just talking about. I love to
wrestle, especially with men. It fills me with pride and self-confidence
when I win. I love putting a man under my physical control. It's a way
for me to indulge my desire to have power over another person. Wrestling
is a safe and enjoyable way for me to express that dominant side of
myself and I'm very good at it. But I'm in a relationship with a man who
wants no part of it. He wouldn't be able to handle being with a woman
who could dominate him physically or sexually."
There was a moment of silence. "Are you saying you want to wrestle with
me?" I asked, astonished.
"Such powers of deduction, brooksie." she laughed, already slipping in
to her teasing, bemused wrestling persona that I would soon come to know so
well.
"I didn't bring anything to wrestle in."
"I thought of that" she said, going into the bedroom and coming back
with a pair of men's running shorts. "These should fit you." She tossed them to
me.
"What are you going to wear?"
"See for yourself" she said seductively, and stood up, sliding her track
pants over her hips and letting them drop around her ankles. She reached
down and pulled them over her heels, kicking them to the side of the
room. What she had on underneath wasn't quite a thong, but it was little
more.

Jessica's legs were a sight to behold. They were large and well-muscled,
but not enormous, reminding me of the legs of a sprinter or some other
type of track athlete, which she had been. They were a study in complex
musculature, and I was especially awed by inner thighs, a place where
you don't usually see hard, defined muscle. Next, she unzipped her
jacket and threw it aside as well. Her upper body was euqually impressive, the
most notable features being her wide shoulders and very flat,
hard-looking abdomen that showed six distinctive squares of muscle. Like
her legs, Jessica's arms were not huge but they were extremely muscular.
I sat there, slack-jawed, mesmerized at the black-bikinied vision in
front of me until Jessica's voice interrupted my dream-like trance.
"When you're done staring, you can change in the bedroom, she giggled. I
went into the bedroom, put on the shorts and quickly used the bathroom.
When I came out, Jessica had already cleared some furniture out of the
way, making room for us to wrestle.

"I'm really looking forward to this.  Are your ready for me to whup your
ass?"
"You seem pretty confident."
"I am."
"Best 2 out of 3?"
"How about we just go until one of wants to quit, to totally submit to
the other?"
"Really?"
"Really, and don't even think about not giving it your best. I'm even
tougher than I look, and I do look tough, don't I brooksie?"

With that, she crouched down and began circling me. We made a few
tentative moves towards one another. She faked a move to her right and quickly
switched direction, stepping in and grabbing me around the chest in a
bear hug. She had one leg in between mine and, showing a substantial
amount of upper body strength, lifted me up and kicked one of my legs
out from under me. Jessica was laying across my chest and, before I
could move, scissored on of my arms. She adjusted her weight as she
stretched the other one out to my side. I grunted as I twisted back and
forth, trying to get some leverage to turn over but I could barely move.
She had me in a perfect cross-body pin and was pressing my shoulders
firmly into the carpet. I squirmed as much as I could but was unable to
budge her. I tried planting my feet and thrusting up with my hips, but
that had no effect either. She simply rode out my struggles, all the
while keeping her weight firmly across my upper chest as she applied the
press with vigour. I heard her chuckle as she felt my efforts to fight
her subside and I lay still.
"Looks like you're pinned, brooksie. Ready to concede the first fall?"
I renewed my attempt to get out from under her but it was futile. I was
completely embarassed. We only been at it for a couple of minutes and
she had me helplessly pinned.
"I could keep you stuck like this all day but it would be more fun if
you gave up and we started again."
She squeezed harder with her legs and stretched me out even further.
At the same time she twisted sideways slightly and dug her shoulder into
my upper chest, just below the neck.
"Ok, I give!"
"Yeah!" she yelled triumphantly and got to her feet. "I always like to
get the first one quickly so my opponent knows what he's in for."
She looked down at me and winked.
"Come on" she said, offering me her hand "up you get. Let's see if you
can last a little longer this time."
She pulled me to my feet and stood waiting for me to get ready. I looked
at her with unbelieving eyes and she read my expression.
"Shocking, wasn't it?" she giggled "I bet you weren't expecting to lose
so quickly, were you brooksie?"
She had that right. If she was trying to instill respect in me for her
strength and ability, she had certainly accomplished that goal.

We faced off for the second fall and this time I kept my distance.
everytime she advanced on me I backed away until I finally hit the wall.
"Nowhere left to go, brooksie" she said with a smile. She lunged forward
and took hold of one of my wrists with both hands and pulled. As I
stumbled forward, she lifted my arm and stepped under, twisting it behind my
back. I spun around and, as I did, she let go of my arm and wrapped one of hers
around my neck in a reverse headlock, bending me forward. She dropped to
her knees, bringing me down to mine at the same time. Again showing
expert technique, she moved her weight all the way back and forced me
lower until my forehead touched the floor. I braced one arm and forced my head
up while trying to pry her fingers loose with the other one and jerk my
head free. I managed to seperate her fingers and she kept the headlock
on with one arm, grasping my wrist with the other one and wrenching my
arm behind me in a hammerlock. Then she released my head, spun around so she
was straddling my back and took hold of my other wrist. She twisted that
arm behind me too. Now she had me in a double hammerlock. She slid down
so she was sitting on my legs just below my buttocks, preventing me from
getting to my knees. Once she had acheived this position she turned her
attention to my arms, crossing my wrists and pushing them up between my
shoulder blades. My shoulders felt like they were on fire and I was again unable to do
anything to free myself. "Give?" she asked, through clenched teeth as
she forced my arms up higher. I knew there was no way out and submitted
again.

Once more Jessica let out a victorious yell and jumped to her feet. She
grinned proudly and held her arms up in a double bicep flex. I rolled
over and looked up at her. There was nothing faked about her expression.
She was obviously taking great pride in her ability to beat me.

I got to my knees and slowly stood up, stretching out my sore shoulders.
"How's it going there, brooksie? Need a minute or two to recover?"
I nodded and she went into the kitchenette, returning with a couple of
glasses of water. She handed one to me. I sat on the couch and looked at
her muscular body as she waited for me to recover. She was everything I
had ever dreamt about. Powerful, athletic, a skilled wrestler with a competitive
but playful personality. There was absolutely no resisting her as she gave
me a sensuous smile and crooked a finger at me to start the next round.
Since hanging back hadn't worked out very well, I decided to go after
her this time. After all, as much as I was enjoying Jessica's
demonstration of her formidable wrestling ability, I didn't want her to
simply wipe the floor with me. I was down 2 - 0 and felt it was time to
get on the board. Unfortunately, she had other plans. I lunged at her
and grabbed her waist, trying to lift and twist her to the floor as she
had done to me but she had her legs firmly planted, as if she'd been
expecting my attack. She drove me backward, sticking a foot behind one
of my ankles as she did so. I fell hard on my back and she pounced on
me, dropping her weight onto my chest and stomach and causing me to gasp
for breath while she swiftly grapevined my legs and took hold of my
wrists, slamming them to the floor. She spread my legs wide and hovered
above me with a predatory smile on her lips, simply holding me down,
waiting for my breathing to return to normal.
"Pinned again" she taunted "do you give up?"
Frustrated at the ease at which she was handling me with, I tried to
struggle out from under her pin. Jessica laughed heartily. "Nice try,
but you're not getting out of this, come on, give up. Say uncle."
My only answer was to keep struggling, even though I was making zero
progress.  She spread my legs wider causing my knees to twist outwards.
I couldn't take anymore and quickly submitted.
"No more, please" I pleaded.
Jessica untwined her legs from around mine and sat up high on my chest,
looking down at me with a mischievious grin. "That's three - zip
brooksie. You ready to submit to me totally, beg for mercy, grovel at my
feet and acknowledge my complete superiority?"
I shook my head, "No" I said weakly "I want another chance."
"Good boy" she laughed, giving me a grandmotherly pinch on the cheek.
"I've got lots of holds I haven't used. You haven't even felt my
scissors yet."
Looking at her hard, muscle-laden legs, I knew this was something to be
avoided if at all possible. I slowly got to my feet, wondering if there
was any way to beat this woman. So far she'd been utterly indomitable,
easily forcing three straight submissions from me I took another drink
of water and focussed on getting my breath back while furiously trying to
come up with some strategy to keep her from overwhelming me again.

"You ready yet brooksie?" Jessica asked. I took another sip of water and
turned to face her. She was standing in the middle of the room, relaxed
and breathing easily. She'd barely even broken a sweat and looked
supremely confident. She crouched down and extended her arms, fingers
splayed, inviting me to engage in a test of strength or "mercy fight" as
it's sometimes called. Looking at her wiry forearms, I was uncertain
about accepting the challenge, but I was also curious to see if I had at
least an advantage in arm strength. The moment our fingers locked, I
knew I didn't. Jessica steadily forced my wrists back, causing me to
sink to my knees. She continued to bend my wrists, forcing me to go over
backwards. As I landed on my back she let go of my hands and scooped my
legs up, her elbows under my knees and fingers locked. I knew what was
coming but was powerless to do anything about it. Almost casually, she
stepped over me with her right leg and turned me over, holding my in an
expertly-applied Boston Crab. With my knees held tightly under her
armpits, she lowered herself until she was sitting on my back. My
quadracep muscles burned from being bent their limits and pain shot
through my thighs. I conceded instantly and she let my legs drop. I felt
her place her foot on my upper back.
"The winner!" she sang out. "What's that make it, four to nothing for
me? This is so much fun. Want to try again brooksie?"
I stood up and arched my back. It cracked a bit but otherwise felt
alright. "Yeah, ok" I said dejectedly.
"Oh now, don't pout. I told you, I'm a very good wrestler. I've had lots
of training and experience, and I'm quite strong, as you now know.
There's nothing to be ashamed of. I have beaten lots of guys bigger than
you."

We began to circle each other again and this time I was careful to keep
my feet well back, so she couldn't trip me to the floor again. She
definitely had me unnerved though. I was reluctant to try anything for
fear of falling into another of her traps. Suddenly she spun to the side
and slipped a
hand behnd my head. She pushed down on the back of my neck and got me in
a standing headlock. She squeezed hard for a few seconds, causing my jaw
to ache and then I felt myself flying though the air as she tossed me
over her shapely hip and onto the carpet once again. Leaving me no time
to recover at all, she instantly caught my head with her legs and
trapped me in a side
head scissor. I was lying flat on my back, pulling at her thigh with one
hand and trying to unlock her ankles with the other. She ignored my
pulling at her steely thighs, which was having absolutely no effect and
leaned forward, capturing my other arm and pulling it across my body. At
the same time she loosened her leg hold enough to allow my head and body
to turn sideways. I was now facing straight into her legs, my head and
face inches away from her crotch. Jessica let out a wicked laugh.
"Ha-ha, now I have you were I want you, with your head crushed by my
strong legs. How does it feel, brooksie? Ready to give again?"
She squeezed even harder, asking me to submit several more times. I was
experiencing that familiar, oddly peaceful sensation that is the
precursor to losing consciousness.
"I give" I said as best I could, but with my face enveloped by thigh
muscle it came out sounding more like "Urr geff."
"What was that?" Jessica teased "I coudn't quite make it out."
I tried to say it again but she had clamped down so hard I wasn't able
to form any words at all.
"Did you say something?"
I couldn't answer. "No? Oh well, I guess I get to keep squeezing." She
poured on the pressure and I thought about tapping her leg with my free
arm to indicate my submission but somewhere between having the thought
and actually doing it, I passed out. When I came to, my head was resting
in her lap.
"Back in the land of the living brooksie? You want a drink?"
I nodded and she held a glass of water to my lips while I took small
sips. "How's your head?" she asked.
"Sore" I replied "Christ Jessica, I've never felt anything like that.
Your legs are even stronger than they look."
"Thanks for noticing" she giggled.
"Well you didn't give me much choice but to notice."
"I guess you're right."
I closed my eyes for a few seconds but realized if I kept them closed I
was going to nod off again.
"I'm so tired, I could fall asleep in seconds."
"Oh did I tucker you out?" She knelt beside me, got one arm under my
shoulders and the other beneath my knees and picked me up as if I was a
child, hefting my 185 lbs. with ease. Jessica carried me to the bedroom
and laid me down on the bed. "There you go. You take a little nap and
I'll wake you in a while. If your head still hurts, I know some shiatsu
massage techniques that'll make your headache disappear." She drew the curtain
and closed the door. I closed my eyes and sweet oblivion overtook me.

"Wakey-wakey. Hey sleepyhead come on, it's time to wake up." I looked up
and saw Jessica perched on the side of the bed, still wearing her bikini but
with a robe loosely wrapped around her. Her hair was wet.
"You had a shower?"
"Uh-huh, and read the paper, worked on my article a bit, made a few
phone calls, went out for a walk, had dinner, watched a movie..."
"What! How long have I been asleep?" I asked, shocked.
"Relax" she laughed "I'm kidding. You've only been out for about 45
minutes. How are you feeling?"
"Better, I think."
"Here, move down a bit." She sat behind me cross legged and held my head
in her lap again. Her fingers felt smooth and cool as she rubbed my
temples. She pressed her thumbs against my neck just below the ears and
I felt any tension left in my head melt away.
"Mmm, that feels nice."
"Headache gone?"
"Yeah."
"Good" she exclaimed, jumping up "now we can wrestle some more." She
threw back the blankets and pulled me out of bed.
"No Jessica please" I begged "you're too much for me. You are the
winner, the champion."
"Ahh brooksie, that's cute but trust me, you're going to enjoy this next
round. I've got a special hold planned, just for you. Come on now."
She took me by the hand and pulled me behind her as she led me back to
the living room. She let go of my hand, took off the robe and lunged at
me. I took a couple of steps back and put my hands up protectively.
Jessica giggled as she stood with her hands on her hips, chest thrust
out proudly.
"You're not afraid of little old me, are you?"
"Yes I am. I've never been so thoroughly beaten in my life. God Jessica,
you are so amazing, beautiful, strong. I know I can't compete with you."
"Hey, I know I thrashed you pretty good. Five to nothing, if I recall. I
don't have anything left to prove. We both know who's the better
wrestler, right?"
I nodded.
"So I prominse to take it easy on you. Just a nice little fun wrestle.
One for the road, ok? Here, let's shake on it."
She held out her hand and, as we shook I felt her pull me forward. She
ducked down and when she stood up, she held me aloft across her broad,
muscular shoulders. She spun around a few times before flipping me onto
my back. Just like in all the previous falls she moved quickly and with
precision, expertly tying me up in a matter of seconds. I was flat on my
back again ahd she had me in another headscissors. She wasn't squeezing
hard, just enough to keep me from pulling my head free.
"Now,  I seem to remember you saying something in our interview about
sensitive nipples. How sensitive are they?"
She curled her body around me and started licking at one of my nipples.
The licking turned into sucking and gentle little bites. In no time at
all my body went limp, or most of it did, and she had me moaning in
pre-orgasmic ecstasy.
"Wow, you weren't kidding. I can totally control you with this. I think
I'll call it the nipple-lock. I love it. I can give you pleasure (she tongued
my nipple again) or pain."
She tightened her mighty legs and squeezed my head briefly. I submitted
immediately. 
"Please Jessica, no more please. I beg you not to squeeze me so hard.
I'll do anything you say, just please stop."
"Oh yeah brooksie, that's what I want to hear, absolute submission.
Begging me to have mercy because that's the only defence you have. Pain (she
gave me another quick squeeze) and pleasure."
She went back to work on my nipples and in seconds had me writhing and
groaning in sexual pleasure.
"It's a fine line between the two, isn't it? But what if you experience
both feelings at once, which one will win out?"
With that, she poured on the pressure to the scissors, while furiously
licking and sucking my nipples. It hurt so bad and felt so good all at
once. I didn't know any longer what I was feeling.
"Mercy" I cried out "I can't take any more. Please, please Jessica stop,
I beg you."
She loosened her legs and lifted her mouth from my now-aching nipples.
"I've got one more submission I want from you brooksie, but this one
isn't verbal."
She grasped my shorts around the waistband and pulled them down to my
knees, releasing my now rock-hard dick.
"Now I'm going to suck your nipples and make you come with my hand and
there's nothing you can do to stop me. You are under my power and at my
mercy, aren't you?"
"Yes, yes" I gasped, barely able to talk.
"And you want to cum so badly, don't you?"
"Yes Jessica please" I moaned.
Jessica chuckled as she reapplied her lips to my nipples and began
softly stroking my penis. She increased the pace of both her mouth and
her hand and in a very short time had me screaming with joy as I erupted
in one of the most intense orgasms I've ever had. When it was over I was
actually sobbing with pleasure from the powerful after effects as she
held me in her strong arms.
"That was incredible. I've never seen anyone with such sensitive
nipples."
She held me for another few minutes, then went to the bathroom,
returning with a facecloth.
"Here you are. Wipe yourself off and take a shower. This has been so
wonderful, I'm going to throw in dinner. I'll order something from room
service while you clean up, ok?"
I headed off to the bathroom, indulging in a long, hot shower while I
reflected on what an incredible day it had been. As I did so, I felt
myself grow hard again and had to fight off the temptation to whack off
in the shower. Finally I turned off the water and stepped out of the
tub. I dried myself and , since my clothes were still in the bedroom,
wrapped myself in a towel and went back into the living room. Jessica
was on the phone.
"About 30 minutes?" she said "That's perfect. Yes, and a bottle..."
She glanced at me, "uh, make that a half bottle of merlot. Yes, thank
you." She hung up the phone.
"What's for dinner?" I asked.
"I kept it simple. Steak alright?"
"Yeah, fine."
She was wearing her robe again, but this time she had nothing on
underneath.
She stood up and let it fall open, exposing her glorious naked breasts.
Dropping the robe, she took me by the hands and pulled me down to the
floor. She opened her legs and guided my face towards her sweet pussy.
"Hope you don't mind starting with dessert, brooksie."
"Mmm, whoever started that business about saving the best for last
didn't know what they were talking about," I smiled.