Office Arm Wrestling Challenge
by brooksie      brooksie@pacificoast.net
An innocent AW contest leads to public humiliation


I actually don't remember how it all got started, this whole arm wrestling
thing. Many of the women who work in our office were rather athletic. It's one
of the reasons we always did so well in the mixed recreational softball league
our company was a part of. Every team had to have three women on the field and
in the batting order at all times, which led to a lot of easy outs and
fielding errors. But our women kicked ass on the diamond! They could hit,
field and run. I know a lot of them were committed gym rats and several of the
girls worked out together after work each day. A bunch of us had a tradition
of hitting the pub for a few at the end of the week and I think that's how it
began. A couple of the women were comparing biceps, one thing led to another
and the arms went up on the desk. That's what I heard, at least. Personally, I
think Bulkley had a hand in it.

Rob Bulkley, my closest friend at work and the top member of our sales team
was a talker, that's for sure. The guy had the natural gift of the gab and
could talk to anyone about anything, it seemed. Although we had never really
discussed it openly, I suspected he might have a thing for muscular women, the
same as me. It wasn't so much what was said as what wasn't. Most guys (and
women too), even those that are normally shy and reserved, will come right out
and express distaste for women who are big and muscular, often in quite a rude
way. Bulkley (no one called him Rob) never said anything like that. In fact,
whenever a muscular female came up in discussion at work...the exploits of pro
wrestler "Chyna" for example or that female member of the Olympic bobsled team
who flexed her huge biceps on the Jay Leno show, he was uncharacteristically
quiet. But he always had a certain expression in his face, like he was
day-dreaming. That's what led me to believe he might be "one of the fold", so
to speak. It's also what made me suspect he had played an instigating role in
getting these arm wrestling matches going. At any rate, it started to become a
regular Friday afternoon occurrence, as work wound up and we got ready to hit
the pub, and I know for a fact it was Bulkley who suggested having a
tournament, because he asked me to figure out how to set it up. That was
typical of him. He was great at initiating things, not so strong on the
follow-through. We often worked on big accounts together in much the same way.
Bulkley got the ball rolling and I figured out how to make the loose ends fit.

Because so many of the women working for our outfit were into hitting the gym,
we had a high level of interest and a number of entrants with pretty decent
arms. But, as anyone who really knows the arm wrestling game will tell you,
intimidating as they may be, big biceps aren't necessarily going to determine
the winner. Our tournament turned out to be a perfect case in point. Nine of
our female co-workers volunteered for it. That made it easy. I just set up
three groups of three to go against each other in a round robin format, with
the three winners playing the overall championship in another round robin.
Most of the women were under 30, unmarried and were perfect examples of a new
breed of woman who isn't afraid to be strong and competitive. There were some
truly exciting and hard-fought contests, probably the best of which pitted
Louise, our star softball pitcher against the ultimate tournament champ, Gina.
Louise was a tall, black haired, olive skinned beauty, with broad shoulders
and hips. Her muscular legs and firm, solid butt had long been admired on the
softball field. When she wound up for that underhand fastball and stepped into
the delivery, she was a sight to behold. So was the expression on the batter's
face as the ball whizzed by him into our catcher's mitt but that's another
story altogether. Louise had been a competitive athlete all through school,
still played lots of sports and had really been putting on some upper body
size in the gym over the past year. Everyone had noticed it, especially today.
Her big arms and shoulders were on display over and over as she placed her arm
on the table, knocking off opponent after opponent.

Eventually, it came to the final match up. In the last round, both Gina and
Louise defeated Sabrina, sending the game, but outclassed redhead from
accounting to the sidelines. On the surface, it seemed like a mis-match. The
5'9 inch Louise, who probably weighed around 150 lbs. versus little Gina, a
5'3 inch bundle of energy and power who I doubted went more than buck twenty.
And a good part of that would be "boob-weight", as Gina was one of those
freaks of nature - a small girl with simply enormous knockers. Big, round and
full, her breasts looked like they couldn't possibly belong on her body. Of
course, many people doubted they were real, but they were. Not everyone
believed it of course, but I had it on good authority from another of the
women on the softball team who worked out with her that it was true. Once a
person's eye got past her breasts, they might notice that Gina was a hardbody
in the truest sense of the word. There wasn't a square inch on her that wasn't
made of muscle. She had a beautiful six-pack abdomen, thick, full calves and a
surprisingly tall biceps peak. Although they were obviously hard, her arms
didn't look very big until she flexed them. Then this little mountain of
muscle appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The ratio between her flexed, and
unflexed arm was astonishing.

Gina also had some serious technique going for her. She had a way of snapping
her wrist and driving her opponent's forearm into the defensive position in no
time at all, where she would arch her own wrist in a way that made her entire
arm flex. With her biceps popped and veins appearing in her forearm, I could
almost manage to ignore her breasts. We got her and Louise set up evenly by
using some books to prop up Gina's elbow. I had insisted that everyone be
given a fair shot by making sure all the competitor's hands lined up. Without
this, I don't think Gina would have won, considering the advantage in leverage
that Louise would have had. But starting on even terms, Gina had no trouble
employing her winning technique to gain the initial advantage. Louise was her
strongest opponent, and held her off for nearly ninety seconds. It was
exciting! Everyone was yelling support to both girls, most of which turned
into shouts of encouragement to Louise to hang in there. But despite the
dogged determination she showed in resisting Gina, Louise never got back on
even terms with the fiery little blonde. She held firm until she just ran out
of gas and her arm crashed hard onto the table from a height of several
inches. Gina had proven invincible!

The arm wrestling tournament definitely had everyone all wound up, and we hit
the pub with more gusto than usual. That meant a bit more drinking than normal
too. We couldn't stop talking about Gina's surprising dominance over all the
other women in the arm wrestling tournament. One of them suggested she could
probably hold her own against the men and the next thing you know, I was
borrowing a phone book from the bartender and we started matching our muscular
little champion against the guys, who fared no better than the women. Gina was
irresistible. As she snapped her wrist, she put her whole body into it and,
one by one, put all of us down. Grinning proudly, Gina capped off her
undefeated run by treating us (at least that's the way I saw it) to an
extended flex of her beautiful arms.

Naturally the goings-on at our table were not unnoticed by the other pub
patrons, including three guys from one of the rival softball teams in the
corporate league. Sauntering over, they wasted no time in declaring the male
members of our company to be the biggest wimps around. Of course, it was all
good-natured but didn't stop Bulkley from goading them into trying Gina
themselves, if they thought we were so pathetic. He bet them a round of drinks
on the outcome. It was a lot of fun watching the first guy go down easily to
the gorgeous and feisty blonde spitfire. Red-faced he got up to order us our
round. The second guy had learned something from his buddy's quick defeat and
tried to counter Gina's wrist-snapping technique. He was partially successful,
but she threw everything she had into it and managed to get his wrist over.
After that, he was on a steady decline until the back of his hand met the
table. It was an incredible sight! He had a thick wrist, which looked even
larger to the heavy thatch of black hair covering it, and yet it was Gina's
slender, delicate pinning his down.

The third guy didn't seem as easy-going as his buddies. He had a grim,
determined look on his face. Of course, there was now a pretty good crowd
gathered around, watching. But we already had one round coming and another on
the way. We really didn't need anymore drinks and there was nothing to prove
anyway. But the guy didn't want to take no for an answer. I took a closer look
and remembered him from the softball games as someone who didn't exactly
display the best example of good sportsmanship. He insisted he get his shot.
Gina said her right arm was tired (no wonder, after all the matches she'd had)
today. I thought she might plead exhaustion, but Gina offered to wrestle him
left-handed. A brief smile flashed across the guy's face as he agreed and sat
down. Why so happy, I wondered? I thought back to the ball games. I think I
remember him being a southpaw. I noticed the watch on his left wrist, which
seemed to confirm it. I wedged the phone book under her elbow and lined up
their two arms, debating whether I should say anything. But it wasn't
important. So what if she lost? I started them off.

Gina was no less ferocious with her left than her right arm. Again she
employed the snapping motion as she threw herself into it. It seemed like she
was getting her whole upper body into it, driving into the guy and forcing his
arm lower and lower until it too, smacked against the table. Instantly his
eyes flashed with anger and he challenged her to a right-handed contest. I
suggested he give her a rest, but he didn't want to take no for an answer.
Things looked like they might turn ugly for a moment, but Gina spoke up and
said she could take him, no problem. That brazen confidence didn't exactly
mellow him out. It was kind of absurd, watching this much bigger guy's
forehead break out in sweat and hearing him grunting as he did his best. But
his best wasn't enough and Gina put him down for the second time. I hoped the
guy would be too embarrassed to stick around, but he was one of those men who
couldn't accept defeat at the hands of a woman. I would have been tempted to
feel sorry for his poor, macho ass if he wasn't acting like such a sore loser.
He complained the phone book gave her an unfair advantage, his elbow slipped
on a wet spot and finally that she used some sort of trick.

"It's no trick buddy, it's called technique. I beat you fair and square, and
don't try and deny it."

As much as I enjoyed seeing Gina with her shoulders back and chest thrust out
proudly, putting this guy in his place, I kind of wished she hadn't said
anything. The guy responded by saying that just because she knew some arm
wrestling "trick" (he insisted on calling it that), didn't mean anything. A
brief argument followed that wound up with Gina boasting she could kick his
ass in more than just arm wrestling. Things appeared now to truly be getting
out of hand and several people made comments aimed at defusing the tension.
Except for Bulkley, who had stayed quiet it all. I looked over at him and sure
enough, he had that look on his face. Suddenly he spoke up.

"What are you talking about Gina. You're not asking this guy to step outside
are ya?"

This got a laugh and it seemed like it might be the end of it. However, Gina
wasn't through. Looking him over she said, "Nah, my fist fighting days are
over."

We all chuckled, remembering her infamous punch up of a couple of years ago
after a ball game, when some guy's girlfriend got up in her face after
deciding she had been flirting with her man, when really it was just a case
her man not being able to keep his eyes off Gina's chest. It ended in less
time than most of the arm wrestling matches had taken, with Gina astride the
helpless girl, raining blows on her head until we pulled her off.

"But," she continued, "I'd sure love to get him on a wrestling mat."

"Really?" asked Bulkley, his tone far too innocent-sounding. I knew him better
than that. He was up to something. "You, ah, wrestle do you?"

"You bet. State champ in my weight class two years in a row, and that's
wrestling against guys by the way."

"Hmmm, what do you think pal? Want to take her on?"

Looking at Gina, who wouldn't. Hard, gorgeous little body, long blonde hair
and blue eyes, perfect white teeth and those impossibly big breasts...

"Come on Bulkley," said one of the other guys from our office, "it's ten
degrees outside and there's a foot of snow on the ground, in case you hadn't
noticed. We're not exactly going to head to the nearest park."

"Not what I had in mind," replied Bulkley, and to Gina, "are you serious?"

"You bet! I'll kick his macho ass."

Gina was a gung ho type of girl, but I wondered it the booze was doing the
talking for her.

The guy was, I think, too stunned to speak. He just stood there, staring at
Gina with a look of complete incredulity on his face.

"You can't be serious," he said. "You want to wrestle me?"

"I didn't say I wanted to. You're the one who started this. I told you I was
in better shape than you and, pound for pound, probably a lot stronger. You
can either believe me or not."

"Or," Bulkley added quickly, "we could go somewhere and settle it. There's a
strip bar, The El Dorado, not too far from here. They're having wrestling
nights all this week. The mats are there. I know the guy that manages it and
I'm sure I could arrange for a little match in between dancers. What do you
say?"

Some of the women started to hoot and whistle and encouraged Gina to go for
it. I have to admit, I wanted to see this but, we were talking about pitting a
115 -120 lb woman against a man who was 50 - 60 pounds heavier, at least.

"Gina," I said, "this might not be such a good idea. You don't have to prove
anything."

I was clearly in the minority, as everyone else jeered me for trying to be the
voice of reason.

"How about you?" Bulkley said to the guy, "Gina says she can take you. You
want to try her?"

"Gina needs to have her big mouth shut," he said, playing his lout's role to
the hilt. "Sure, I'll wrestle you, honey."

The way he said the word "honey" even made my skin crawl. I can only imagine
what effect it must have had on Gina.

"So, what do you say Gina? You want to wrestle?"

"You bet!" she confirmed, glaring at her adversary, "my gym stuff's in the
car. I'm all set."

"Mine too," the guy replied.

"Well all righty then," concluded Bukley, "let's drink up and adjourn to ye
olde peeler bar, for a little mixed wrestling action."

I thought we might lose a few people, as normally happens when moving from one
location to another, but I guess everyone at our table was too intrigued by
the prospect of seeing Gina wrestling against this guy not to follow along.
For the guys, even that was overkill. The words "Gina...workout clothes" would
have sufficed. I'd been to worse places but still, the El Dorado was a rung or
two down the ladder of sleaziness from the yuppified neighbourhood pub we'd
just left. Arriving two and three at a time, we didn't make much of an impact
but by the time we were all seated together our table of seven women and four
guys was drawing a fair bit of attention. We watched one of the dancers shake
her stuff while Bulkley had a word with his friend who managed the place. He
returned to the table, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Ok, it's all set up. After the next girl, the DJ's going to announce it.
Gina, you can use the dancer's dressing room to get changed."

The three guys from our rival company showed up. The one who was going to
wrestle Gina had changed into a pair of workout pants and a sweatshirt. They
sat down and had another beer, while we waited for the dancer already onstage
to finish up. The DJ announced the next dancer who would be getting up in a
few minutes and also, a little added attraction.

"Apparently we had a little grudge match about to take place, a little
inter-office rivalry and get this...it's a guy and a gal who are going to
square off on the wrestling mat, so stick around for a little mixed wrestling
action coming up shortly. Right now, put your hands together for..."

He introduced the next dancer and she was partway through her routine when
Gina returned to the table. All over the bar necks were craning and eyes
straining to follow her as she walked over to out table. Although I had seen
her in plenty of short skirts, sleeveless tops, shorts, midriff-baring tops
etc, the sight of her in her tight, tiny spandex workout suit still took my
breath away. Every way she moved, hard little muscles were flexing and popping
all over her. She looked amazingly fit and drew lots of compliments from
everyone at the table for her athletic physique. The dancer finished up and,
while the mats were being laid out, Bulkley called Gina's opponent over to our
table.

"Ok, no dirty stuff, right? No punching, kicking, biting...anything like that.
Just straight wrestling. Now, is this for pins or submissions?"

"Submissions, for sure," said Gina, "I want to hear him admit he's beat."

Everyone chuckled at Gina's brazen attitude.

"That all right with you, buddy?"

Bulkley was addressing the guy, who was in the process of staring at Gina's
cleavage. He didn't pick up on the question right away, causing everyone to
laugh when he suddenly realized he'd been asked one and broke off his breast
examination.

"Sure, yeah...whatever," he mumbled.

"You better keep you mind on wrestling when we're up there," Gina told him,
glancing towards the stage, "or you're gonna get you butt kicked even worse
than you already are."

"Yeah, we'll see about that, little girl."

"Little?" Gina made her biceps pop up and gave them a hard flex, drawing a
round of applause from those seated nearby. "You call this little?"

The guy said nothing, but his face betrayed some doubt. After all, she had
beaten him convincingly in arm wrestling, with both arms and she was obviously
in killer shape.

"Now, all that's left," spoke up Bulkley "is to decide the stakes."

"Stakes?" the guy asked.

"Sure," he answered, "there has to be something riding on the outcome. Anyone
got any ideas?"

For a second, no one said much of anything. Then the guy spoke up. Nodding his
head towards one of the private rooms, he fixed his eye on Gina again.

"Private lap dance, back there. Ten minutes...and topless."

He leered at her, a cocky smirk on his lips.

I thought Gina would veto that right away but she merely shrugged her
shoulders.

"Sure. I mean, it's not like you're going to win anyway."

I couldn't believe how confident she was about this.

"That's my girl," Bulkley laughed, giving her a friendly tap on the butt, "So
what about you Gina? What's your victory prize going to be?"

Gina gave her would-be opponent a slow once over, an impish smile on her cute
young face.

"He's got to crawl over to me on his belly and kiss my feet."

The women at our table howled with laughter at that, and the guy's face got
all red. But he agreed, stating there was no was she was ever going to collect
on that and he was going to kick her ass even worse for suggesting it.

"Are we talking one submission, best two out of three or what?" I asked.

"Better make it two out of three," replied Gina, "I don't want this guy
claiming it was fluke or some kind of trick."

She emphasized the word and he shot her a dirty look, but agreed to best two
out of three.

"Well then," concluded Bulkley "it seems we have our terms, then. Are you two
ready?"

"Sure, let's get it on sweetheart," the guy said.

"Yeah," she responded, "let's."

Bulkley got up to give the DJ the word to announce the match, then spun on his
heel and looked at the guy questioningly.

"Uh, what's you name pal?"

"Eddie."

"Ok, Eddie."

I knew Bulkley. There was something in the way he said the guy's name that got
me thinking he knew more than he was letting on. There was something up his
sleeve. I'd be willing to bet money on it.

As the DJ explained that what was about to take place, including the terms of
the match as told to him by Bulkley, the after-work crowd began to press
closer to the stage. A bunch of the dancers came out and sat at the reserved
table next to the stage. We were on the upper level, slightly behind them,
which gave us an excellent view of both the strippers and the wrestling area,
which was a 16 x 16 ft. mat in the middle of the stage. Normally there would
also be a large plastic tarp to contain whatever substance the bar was having
it's girls wrestle in. The two combatants stood facing each other. One of the
bar staff had agreed to supervise, mostly to break them up if they rolled off
the mat, as it was about a four foot drop to the floor. Of course, he was also
there to make sure things didn't get out of hand. I'm not sure what they
mostly male audience thought was going on. Probably some little T & A girl who
was going to roll around with a guy in a pretend wrestling match and get naked
in the process, the same sort of thing that would happen later that night,
when the I doubt anyone expected what they were about to see.

As the guy peeled off his sweatshirt, and stood in his gym pants and tank top,
Gina began stretching and flexing. She made quite an impression with moves
such as standing on one leg while lifting the other one over her head, sinking
easily into a full leg splits, touching her forehead to her knee, her legs
splayed out in front of her and ending her little routine with the fitness
competitor's straddle hold, both legs extended straight out in front of her,
several inches off the floor.

"Look at those moves. She looks like she's in great shape and how about that
body?" the DJ enthused.

The prompting was hardly needed, as the hooting and hollering had started the
moment Gina stepped up on stage. When she was done stretching, she stood and
faced Eddie, her white teeth flashing in the light as she smiled and waved at
us.

"Are we ready to rumble?" asked the disembodied voice of the DJ.

Another loud cheer from the crowd. The staff guy on stage with Gina and Eddie
looked at them both, got affirmative nods and gave the DJ a "thumbs up" sign.
He stepped off to the side and, to our surprise, a bell sounded. I looked
around, startled, then realized the DJ must have a sound effects CD in the
booth.

Once Gina heard that, she sprung into action. Charging across the mat, she put
her shoulder into her opponent's gut while wrapping her arms around his knees,
sending him onto his back. She immediately got on top of him and got him in a
headlock, her weight squarely over his chest and her fingers locked tight
behind his neck. He managed to extricate himself from her grip, but Gina gave
him no respite. She continued throwing herself on top of him, keeping from
getting off his back. At one point she had a cradle hold on him, with one of
his legs locked up and the other kicking futilely in the air. If the match was
for pins, she would have had her first victory. But Eddie eventually freed
himself from that hold too. By this time, it was easy to see he was being made
to work hard. The muscular little blonde was a whirlwind, a one-woman dynamo
who kept on him every second. By the time a few minutes had passed, she'd had
him in several holds which had taken a lot of effort on his part to escape. He
was starting to sweat and it looked like he was breathing hard. His mouth was
open most of the time he seemed to be sucking in big gulps of air.

The women at our table were screaming their support for Gina, as were the
dancers seated below us. Meanwhile Eddie's buddies were pretty quiet, as he
hadn't given them anything to cheer about. He was, however, getting well
razzed by some of the male clientele, spurred on by the sarcastic commentary
of the DJ. Gina was on top again, as she had been from the start. I thought
she'd been aggressive as an arm wrestler, but that was nothing compared to
seeing her in an all-out wrestling match. In addition to her skill and speed,
she had a wild, ferocious energy that was fascinating to watch. Her
vocalizations were incredible too. She grunted, yelled and a couple of times
let out a noise that could only be described as a growl. That's the sound she
made forcing his right shoulder to the mat, completing a cross-body pin. She
quickly got hold of Eddie's right wrist and stretched herself out across his
chest as she pulled his arm straight out to the side.

Eddie tried thrusting his hips attempting to throw Gina off him but she kept
her legs spread wide for good balance and stayed on top. As Eddie struggled
against her pin, Gina's boobs mashed against his face, getting a laugh out of
the patrons of the bar. Bulkley saw this and yelled to Gina "smother him". She
moved her body back a bit and pushed her tits into Eddie's face, causing him
to have to turn his head to the side just to get some air. That made it even
harder for him to fight back. He did manage to get his left arm to push on her
legs and was trying to get her off him that way when she let go of his right
wrist with one hand and twisted her torso around. She grabbed his wrist and
scissored Eddie's left arm, just above the elbow. Then she turned back around
and pressed her weight down on him again. Gina used both hands to pull his
right wrist up, bending his arm into an L-shape. With his left arm trapped
between her thin but hard and muscular thighs, Eddie could do nothing to stop
her from manipulating his other limb in whatever way she liked. Gina clamped
his wrist to the mat with her left hand, then snaked her right arm under
Eddie's right elbow, grabbing her own left wrist with her right hand.

She continued to keep him pinned for another twenty or thirty seconds, all the
while smiling at the crowd and treating those close to the stage to a stellar
view of her ample cleavage. The place was going nuts, as people began cheering
and applauding the victorious little blonde dynamo. Turning her attention back
to her victim, Gina smashed her breasts into his face again and asked
mockingly if he was enjoying himself. Without waiting for a reply she added,
in a menacing tone "Now it's time to pay for your pleasure."

She used her leverage hold on his right arm to force his elbow up. With his
wrist pinned he could do nothing to alleviate the pressure on his shoulder
joint and submitted immediately. Gina backed the hold off slightly, but
continued to apply enough pressure to cause him to writhe in pain.

"Ok, I give. No more...please, don't."

"Don't what?" she asked innocently.

When he didn't respond, she added "oh, you mean don't break it?"

He nodded.

"Then say it...say please don't break it."

He said it.

"Now say Gina is the winner."

"Gina is the winner."

"Good boy," she said, patronizingly, patting him on the cheek as she got to
her feet.

Gina stood to one side of the mat, smiling and acknowledging the chanting of
her name by clasping her hands above her head. She began doing some light
stretching, while waiting for her opponent to recover from the overwhelming
defeat she'd just handed him. For his part, Eddie slowly rolled onto his
stomach and stayed in that position for a few seconds before getting to his
knees and then standing up. His hair was all disheveled and his face beet red,
as he stood there, blinking at his little nemesis. It was as if he couldn't
comprehend how she'd beaten him so thoroughly. But watching her stretch and
flex, it was impossible to note that, aside form her breasts, she was hard as
a rock everywhere. She looked like she was made of muscle.

"Ready for round two?" she taunted the bewildered looking Eddie.

Eddie tried to shake it off and got ready to face her again. The bell sound
went off again and Gina wasted no time in reasserting her dominance. Taking a
couple of steps backwards, she ran towards him and leapt into the air, her
sneaker-clad feet connecting solidly with his chest. Eddie landed hard on his
back, and appeared winded. Gina landed on her side. She got to her knees and
took hold of his ankles. Tucking his left one under her armpit, Gina began
twisting Eddie's right foot, forcing his leg bend at a right angle across his
outstretched left one. Then she hooked her right leg over his ankle, locking
his right leg in that position. Next, she put her left leg over his right
thigh and fell back onto the mat. I recognized this hold from TV. She had him
in a figure four leg lock! Eddie didn't immediately start flopping around like
a fish out of water, or holding his face in agony as television wrestlers
appear to be doing, but his legs did look well twisted up. Eddie was flat on
his back, while Gina was resting on outstretched arms, looking relaxed, as if
the hold took no effort at all. The only thing Eddie could do was to try and
sit up and use his arms to somehow escape. When he tried to do that, Gina's
solid little body tensed up and her muscles exploded into relief as she thrust
upwards with her hips to put pressure on the hold. Eddie fell back, his face
contorted with pain. He tried it a couple more times before falling back and
lying still. Gina's melon-sized breasts strained tantalizingly against the
fabric of her low-cut spandex top, as she rested comfortably on her arms and
grinned at her opponent's helplessness.

"Give?" she asked, confidently.

Eddie knew there was no other way out.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Say Gina wins...again!"

"Gina wins again."

Gina untangled her legs from his and leapt to her feet, again clasping her
hands over her head as she celebrated her seemingly easy victory. It had taken
her less than a minute to force a submission from her outclassed male
opponent, who was still lying on the mat rubbing his leg. The pub patrons were
really getting into the action now. With the DJ instigating them, it seemed
the whole bar was cheering for our mighty little powerhouse. Flexing her
impressive biceps again, it was obvious Gina owned the room. It was also quite
apparent, to me at least, that she knew exactly what she was doing. I was
convinced she could have beaten Eddie in much less time than it took her to do
so in the first fall, but it seemed like she wanted to grapple with him, to
force him to work and expend energy. There were a number of occasions where
she could have put the same arm lock on him she's used to end the fall. By
contrast, her performance in the second fall seemed intent on wiping him out
as quickly as possible. From her opening drop kick to the flashy, but
effective, figure four leg lock, she had been showboating, pure and simple.

As Eddie slowly made it to his feet, Gina continued playing to the crowd,
smiling and waving as if she had already won the match. Although he looked
shaky, as if he still hadn't fully recovered from the last hold, Eddie still
had some fight left in him. The first two falls had shown him that, not only
was he facing a real challenge, but he was now the underdog and needed to take
it up a notch or two. Twice, he had let Gina bring the fight to him, but it
appeared he wasn't about to make that mistake again. This time, he rushed her
and they wound up grappling with each other, first on their feet, then on the
mat after he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off of her feet and
threw her down. Once on the mat, however, he couldn't keep her pinned. She was
far more agile and quick than he was, plus she squirmed and fought like a
wildcat the few times he did get on top of her. Not only that, Eddie was
taking a fair number of knees and elbows from her in the process. Gradually
whatever was left of his strength, energy and aggression seemed to fade and
Gina once again began controlling the match. She went for another pin, but
Eddie thwarted her by turning over onto his stomach. Gina backed off, creating
a little space between her butt and his back. Thinking he had a chance to get
to his feet, Eddie placed his hands flat on the mat and began get to his
knees. But Gina, hovering above him, was waiting, ready to spring her trap.
She stepped over his left shoulder then let her weight crash down on his back,
flattening him. Quickly, she trapped his elbow in between her thigh and calve,
pinning his arm out to the side. Pushing down on his head, she sung her other
leg up and did the same with his right arm. Moving her legs and ass back a
bit, she had his arms locked behind her knees. She turned his head to one side
and held it tight to the mat. He had no way to put up any resistance and the
crowd began to go crazy as it was now clear she had defeated him for the third
straight time. Gina's smile was a mile wide and she shouted out with pure joy,
"OH YEAH! That's the hold I wanted."

Leaning forward slightly, she slipped one arm under Eddie's head and around
his neck. With her biceps muscle in full flex, she pulled his head up and off
the mat. Her forearm was under his chin, forcing his head to tilt back and
putting his face in plain view. He looked scared, almost panic-stricken and it
was soon clear why.

"Ha-ha, you are in trouble now sucker," gloated Gina.

She held his head up by the hair and moved her arm back a bit. Now her forearm
was pressing into his Adam's apple, her hard, peaked biceps digging into his
neck. He was absolutely helpless to prevent her from cutting off his air. Gina
applied pressure to his throat, causing his face to turn a deep shade of red
and little gurgling sounds to emit from his mouth. She stopped squeezing just
as the DJ pretended to plead with her not to kill her victim.

"Hey, he's only a guy. Go easy on him."

That got a huge laugh. Gina crooked a finger at the staff guy who'd been
acting as the "referee". Gina said something to him, and he jumped down off
the stage and went into the sound booth, returning with a wireless microphone.
For a few seconds we didn't hear anything from the booth. Then the DJ's voice
returned.

"Hey, sorry about that. Took me a minute to remember where to plug this thing
in. I'm not used to having a wire connected to my mic anymore.

The guy was back, put the microphone to Gina's lips.

"All right Gina you're on, what did you want to say?"

Gina kept a firm hold of her opponent as she turned her head to speak into the
mic. We were seated close enough to the stage that everything was audible
without the mic, but now the entire bar could hear.

"I just wanted to make sure that Eddie remembers what the stakes were in our
little match. But first, I guess I better make sure he wants to submit to me,
since I haven't heard him say it yet. What about it Eddie, you give up?"

She flexed her right arm, putting more pressure on the choke hold she had
around Eddie's neck.

"Yes, yes, I give up. Please, you win," he said, when she let him talk again.

More cheers for her, and the chanting of her name began again.

"That's it Gina, you got the submission. Nice job, killer. Now what about
these stakes? No one said anything to me. Of course, I'm always the last to
find out about anything around here."

"Well," she said, "if I lost, I said I'd do a private lap dance for him.
Topless."

The audience let out a howl and one guy called out, "Do it anyway, right
here."

Gina laughed, but shook her head.

"Well obviously, you didn't lose. So what the this guy have to do for you?"

"I better see if he remembers. How about it buddy? What was the deal? If I
win, you have to...what?"

She still had her arm around his neck, biceps muscle flexed, but she wasn't
applying any pressure.

"Come on," she urged, "say what your part of the deal was?"

Under the table my cock was aching as it fought against the fabric of my
pants. Gina's prowess in the wrestling match had been exciting enough, but now
she was sending me over the edge with her complete domination of her hapless
male victim. She was going to make him say what he had to do, into the mic
where it could be heard by all. It was perhaps as humiliating as actually
doing it and Gina, her arm flexed right in his face, knew it. She wasn't only
defeating this guy, she was putting on a show with him. I was pretty much
convinced she had orchestrated the whole thing so she could wind up in the
position of control she was now in.

"Tell everyone what you agreed to do if you lost...and you are the LOSER,
aren't you?"

At the word "loser", which she shouted out, Gina again constricted her arm
around his throat, making him gag. Loosening it, she repeated the question.

"Ok, all right, I'm the loser."

I detected a trace of impatience in his voice, but he really was too
thoroughly whipped to express true annoyance. He sounded frightened too as
well he should have been, considering Gina had unrestricted access to his
throat and could choke him at will. She made him repeat his promise to crawl
across the mat on his belly to her, and kiss her feet. Still holding him in
her unbreakable grip, she forced him to swear he would do it if she let him
go. She still wasn't satisfied and began choking him again, this time holding
it longer than before. When she allowed him to speak again, he was hoarse, and
seemed close to tears as he begged her to believe him and promised over and
over he would live up to his end of the bargain.

"What about it?" she said, into the mic, "Should I believe him?"

The strippers, seated together at one end of the stage, had been going nuts,
howling with delight at the way Gina was toying with her helpless foe.

"He's lying!" one said.

"No mercy!" yelled another.

Gina tightened her arm again, but not fully. She left him enough air to speak
and he was now pleading with her not to choke him anymore and swearing he
would crawl to her and kiss her feet.

Without another word, Gina released him. She took the wireless mic and went to
stand on the other side of the mat. With one hand on her hip and the other
hold the mic up to her lips, she said simply, "Come on, then. Start crawling."

The DJ, with enthusiastic help from the dancers, got the chant "Crawl, crawl,
crawl" going and with his face down, Eddie began to wriggle across the mat
towards her. I marveled at how she'd really left him with no choice. After
forcing him to promise to do it, plead to be allowed to do it, it would have
been even more humiliating to try and avoid delivering on his agreement.
Besides, she could, in all likelihood, have put him back into a hold as bad or
worse than the one she'd just let him out of. Once he'd made it across the
mat, Gina pointed a sneaker at him and said sweetly, "Kiss." Then she repeated
it with the other one, completing Eddie's public humiliation. She posed
briefly with her foot resting on his back and then left the stage to get
changed, stopping to receive congratulations and hugs from the strippers as
well some other patrons. Meanwhile, the DJ had started up the music again.
Eddie sat on the mat, his head buried in his arms, as if he was afraid to look
up. If he had, he would have noticed his two pals had already left. The staff
guy was kneeling beside him and it looked as if Eddie was confirming he was
OK. He got to his feet, grabbed his sweatshirt and, amid a series of hoots and
jeers, got down from the stage heading straight for the exit.

While we were waiting for Gina to return, I pulled Bulkley aside.

"All right, what's the story? This wrestling thing didn't just happen by
accident did it? You know something."

He grinned and said, "Well, if you mean did I know she'd kick his ass in a
wrestling match, then yeah."

"How?" I demanded, "How did you know that? What do you know about her that I
don't?"

He fished a pen out of his jacket pocket and grabbed a cocktail napkin.
Pressing it against the wall, he jotted something down and passed the napkin
to me. It was a web site address. I gave him a puzzled look in return.

"Just take a look at that site when you get home. You won't have any questions
after that. By the way, you're looking for pics and clips of a girl called
Amber."

"Well what is it, what's on it?"

"Look," Bulkley said, an unusual degree of sincerity in his voice, "I know we
probably share some common interests. Go to this web site and look around,
check out some of the links and I'll talk to you about it tomorrow. Now come
on, here comes Gina."