Who's on Top?
By Counselor
Ups, downs and ups of modern marriage


I.

"I wish we weren't going," Jay complained as he and Amy were dressing for an
evening party. Casual but clean was the order of the day. Jay glanced at
himself in the mirror. He saw with pleasure, as he always did, a handsome,
well turned out young man of medium height with well-combed straight black
hair, broad shoulders and slim hips. Yes, he looked good, nothing wrong with
caring about your looks. "If you treated me the way Hilda treats Sam, I'd turn
you over my knee and give you a spanking."

"That would be the day."

"How do you mean?"

"You're so overconfident."

"What's that mean?"

"I might just spank you."

"That would be the day. You spank me? Don't be silly."

"I could if I wanted to."

Jay turned so she would not see his face redden as he answered, "Yeah. I'll
bet. Just don't try it." But Amy saw he was embarrassed and thought maybe he
should be. He had become a bit of a wimp, at least in a way. She didn't mind
goading him. Maybe it would be fun if he became more aggressive.

"Don't forget the beer."

"OK."

As he went to bed that night, Jay agonized about their brief conversation. Did
Amy really think she could spank him? Against his will? Impossible! But ...
but maybe, just maybe, she thought she could. He lay in the dark, blushing and
sweating. The trouble was that he knew why she might think that she could
spank him and it was all his fault. It was those sexual games they played.

II

Amy was an outstanding athlete from and athletic family and Jay was a
reasonably well-coordinated male, who loved competition. He had long been
fascinated by strong athletic girls. Periodically he relived in his
imagination when a fifth grade girl named Margaret beat up his best friend,
Tony. He could still see in his mind's eye Margaret sitting on top of a beaten
Tony and still feel the excitement and the fluttering in the stomach just as
he had felt it on that day. From then on he had adored Margaret. He wanted to
wrestle with her, to test his strength against hers. He imagined her holding
him down, but he did not know how to bring such a match about. His chance came
almost a year later they were out on a field trip. The teachers had gone to
look for the bus. Some of the cut-up boys were teasing the girls pushing them
toward a pond. Jay went after Margaret. For a moment they wrestled standing up
and then Margaret's strong arms had him in a headlock. Her legs were in front
of his so that she had the leverage and Jay had trouble keeping on his feet.
And then Jay was on the ground with Margaret perched on top of him gripping
his wrists tightly, forcing them down. The others gathered around to watch. As
Janet locked his wrists to the ground, the teachers came up. "OK, children
into the bus. Margaret, Jay, break it up." They stood up, Margaret first and
then Jay, feeling humiliated, embarrassed and very excited. Margaret was
everything he had thought. Something was happening in his crotch that was
exciting and a little uncomfortable. He thought often about that episode.

III

Jay had been attracted to Amy the first time he saw a tall, straight young
woman, who moved with athletic grace. After he saw her flat, hard tennis
forehand, he asked her to go to dinner with him. Of course, she knew nothing
of his secret passion.

It started eight months after their wedding. They had gone to watch Timmy, one
of Amy's nephews, wrestle in a high school match. An earlier match pitted
Janet, a 10th grade classmate of Tim's, against a senior boy from a rival
school. Jay watched as the referee talked to the two young people. The
tow-headed boy with the cropped hair looked lean and fit. At first it might
have been hard to guess that Janet was not also a boy with her short reddish
brown hair and trim body, but on closer look Jay could see the slightly wider
hips and the outline of small breasts. Amy leaned over and said, "Oh, I'm glad
we are going to see this." Jay could not have sorted out his own feelings. To
see a boy and a girl about to wrestle was a turn on. It would be especially
exciting if the girl would win. On the other hand, he could identify with the
boy. To win would be no glory, but to loose to a girl in front of this crowd
would shame any boy or any man. He felt very nervous for the young man.

The referee stepped back. The two young people went at each other, touching
hands, feinting.

Amy's voice was now electric with excitement, "I hope she wins. Come on Janet,
please come on."

Several woman nearby, echoed, "Come on Janet."

One said, "You can do it, girl." Jay heard nothing from the watching men.

The wrestlers were quick as they tested each other. Then Janet went down into
a crouch and grasped the boy's advanced leg. Jay felt Amy squeeze his arm
hard. The two struggled. For a little while Jay thought the boy had the
advantage, but Janet clung to his leg. Finally she got good position with her
shoulder into his abdomen. Down he went with Janet on top, trying different
maneuvers. Jay's heart was pounding in his chest. Janet now had her body
perpendicular to the young man's. Jay saw the referee lying down to watch his
shoulders. The ref's arm was up and then down. Janet had pinned her young
opponent, two years her senior.

Amy jumped up and down and gave Jay a hug and a kiss. Some of the other women
seemed equally excited. Jay was surprised at the display. He felt
simultaneously both the shame and the sexual charge of seeing a male loosing
to a female in that ultimate test of strength and skill. His turn on was
coupled to personal embarrassment. It was hard for him to respond graciously
to the elation of the women.

The ref held one hand of both young people and then raised Amy's to the
prolonged cheers and clapping of the crowd including his wife. Janet hugged
the young man, who graciously hugged her back. Jay watched the young man as he
went over to his teammates, his shoulders drooping his head down, the picture
of defeat and shame. A man, presumably the coach, put his arm around his
shoulder. Amy was still standing and clapping. Jay remained seated to hide his
erection.

At bedtime, Amy was still excited. "That was so great. I can't believe how
easily Janet controlled that guy. She could go to State. I used to wrestle my
brothers but never was on a team. You'd better watch out. The women are
coming."

"Well, woman, come on to bed."

Amy gave him a playful swat and a push, hard enough that he ended sitting on
the bed. "Look out or I'll pin you." The challenge was a turn on for Jay. He
wanted to goad her, to see what she would do.

He pushed her. "Let's see you try." She threw herself on him as he resisted
but only half-heartedly. "Show me," he whispered as she wrestled him onto his
back. Amy kissed him hard on the lips and then lightly on his eyes. Amy stuck
her tongue in Jay's ears. His breathing was fast. She was excited by the
desire in his face and especially by his unusual passivity. She swooped down
on him holding him tight in her arms. Her tongue entered his mouth exploring.
Her hands boldly moved over his body. As her excitement mounted, her right
hand reached his genitals.

Then, pleased by her seeming ease of victory, she raised herself and sat on
his chest, moving up until her knees were on his shoulders. She had him
pinned!! She sat up and flexed her biceps. "I win." Jay, looking up saw the
exultation in her face and in the flexed biceps. They were living out his
fantasies. His excitement rose and rose. Then they were in each other's arms
and Jay, assuming the masculine prerogative, mounted her and had the most
exciting sex of his life.

Husband and wife had crossed a new threshold. For Jay it had been exciting to
wrestle with Amy and especially to feel her knees pinning his shoulders while
she did a double biceps pose. She had been so aggressive. He wondered if it
would happen again, perhaps if he gave her a little push ...

Amy had had fun. Later she stood naked before the full length mirror and
flexed her biceps noting the swell, not to much but enough, just enough. She
looked so healthy and so strong. She was lovely. She hugged her body with
delight.

Two nights later Jay, wanting to display his masculinity, attacked Amy. He
wrapped his arms around her and, using all his strength, wrestled her to the
bed and mounted her. Amy was aroused and thrilled by his fierceness, but a
little resentful. Men, including her husband, think they rule the world.
Afterwards, they were at peace.

A week later Jay again wrapped his arms around Amy. He intended to half carry
her to the bed as he had before, but she struggled. Then her right hand found
his genitals through his thin pajamas and squeezed, hard enough but not too
hard. He let out a long sighing, "Oh,h,h,h,h." She felt the fight drain out of
his body. He stood there passive and unresisting, looking at her quizzically
while she gripped his balls and looked him straight in the eye.

Then she led him by the balls to the bed. He resisted being pushed back on it,
but she tightened her grip and prevailed. He looked into her fierce, strong,
and very determined face. His resistance melted away and he willing gave
himself over to her. His submission fueled her sudden desire to push further,
to control, even to dominate. "You're soft, just like a wet noodle." She
kissed him hard on the lips. He tried to kiss back. "Stop. Lie there." He did.
She put her chest to his face pressing her breasts over his nose and mouth.
"Maybe I'll smother you." The softness of her breasts dominatingly pressing
down on him threatening to smoother him was unbelievably exciting. When he
became short of air, he tried to turn his head, but she pulled him back and
pressed her breasts harder against him. He struggled harder. Not wanting to go
too far, she pulled up. "I'll let you breathe for a while."

"Thank you," he said, submissively kissing her left breast. Kissing the breast
that had almost stopped his breathing was his way of surrendering as she
recognized with pleasure and excitement. She was able to dominate with her
breasts, the symbol of her femininity.

"You're welcome," she whispered, again lowering her breasts but leaving enough
room for him to breath. He began to kiss and lick her breasts and finally
sucking on the left one, awaking soft and tender feelings in Amy. But a few
minutes later still very much in charge she said, "Enough of that," pulling
her left breast away and presenting the right. "This one's jealous." Thus, she
played with him, first one breast and then the other. Finally, very aroused,
she said, "Are you just going to lie there all night? Do I have to do all the
work?" And she rolled off him waiting for him to take her.

Afterward she thought, "I just have to push the right buttons and he will do
anything I want. He was just like dough in my hands." Her power was exciting,
but still she was ambivalent. Her desire to be in control and the excitement
of dominating her husband vied with the opposite desire that he be the strong
dominate leader that she had always thought a man should be. She was proud of
her strength, but sometimes angry at his weakness and unwillingness or
inability to resist her.

Sometimes she could not wait to get home to take him on, to dominate him
physically and sexually. At such times she was ruthless. She would try to
catch him by surprise sometimes going for any vulnerable spot she could find,
especially his balls and his fingers, but also his ears and his hair. Jay
resisted, but any time she gained the advantage, his resistance weakened so
that she could take him. She developed ways of demonstrating her dominance,
nibbling his breasts, blowing in his ears, biting his nose, pinning his
shoulders.

At other times she played the role of traditional wife encouraging him take
the lead and bring her to arousal. At such times she liked to feel his muscles
and surrender to his masculine strength. Both enjoyed and were relaxed after
Jay led the lovemaking. It helped to keep their relationship on an even keel.

Amy's frequent aggressiveness stirred deep emotions in Jay. One night she
wrestled him on to his back with a good grip on his balls. She was showing her
mastery by kissing his right breast when he reached behind her head, pulling
her face down on his chest. Sensing his desire, she took his breast in her
mouth and sucked on it. As he began to moan and writhe, she sucked harder,
more deeply, and more aggressively, doing to his breast what he had so often
done to hers and getting the same response.

"The other side," he breathed. "It's jealous."

Those words jarred Amy. It was irritating hearing own her words come from his
mouth. Damn him. He had no right. He was the man and she was the woman. He
should be pleasuring her breasts, not she his. Compared with hers his breasts
were boring.

She bit his nipple. "Ow ... Ow ... Ow ... that hurts." He lay there,
whimpering but not resisting. She let him go and raised her head. He did not
move. She bit his other nipple. "Ow ... Ow ... Amy ... Ow." She drew up her
head again. Feeling a little guilty, she relented gently tonguing his nipple.
Then she took his breast in her mouth and sucked playing with his body and his
emotions.

Jay was floating, breathing deeply. The hurt had only added to his arousal.
Here was a new way of giving himself in this way to his wife. Amy was aroused,
too, but much more in control of herself. She felt his weakness. "Are you
ready to go to work?" He did not answer. "Well?"

"I, I, I don't ... I don't know ... Oh,h,h."

She knew. "You're too weak."

"Yes. You take me, Amy. Take me."

And she did, pounding him from her superior position, driving him into the bed
with all of her pent up anger and excitement and the lust for total
domination. His body responded in a new way to her rhythm and kept responding
until she stopped and collapsed upon him, triumphant and exhausted.

Amy had found the keys to turning this strong, confident man into a helpless,
weak, writhing, moaning male begging her to take him. After that Amy could
dominate Jay physically and sexually anytime she wanted. Beating him was
almost too easy. Jay's resistance was only half-hearted, designed to make her
work harder and to make his surrender sweeter. On the other hand, when she was
in the mood, she would demand that he do the work, that he arouse and mount
her instead of the other way around. It was her choice to play the role of the
traditional male or the traditional female. As she got used to being the
dominant partner, she became more accepting of her own aggressiveness and
Jay's passivity. Her desire to have him dominate became less frequent although
her anger with him and his passivity still occasionally flared.

IV

So Jay knew that Amy had reason to think that she could beat him up and even
spank him if she wanted. Of course, she was wrong. Her physical conquests were
just part of a game, an elaborate arousing sexual game that they both enjoyed,
a way of making love. But now the game had gone far enough. They could still
play, but they had to face reality that he was male and Amy was female. Jay
decided that he would just have to "break the unwritten rules." When Amy tried
to wrestle him, he would not let her win. No, he would fight back and win a
few times just to show her that he could, to let her know that she had married
a real man, one who could act the man and, if necessary, protect her, a man
that she could look up to.

Jay was confident, but nonetheless he decided to wait a few weeks and get
himself in good shape. "I am going to exercise again," he told Amy. And he
did, vigorously.

A month later Jay was ready. He waited until he knew that Amy was in the mood
to make love to him. Soon she would go after him. Now was the time, but he had
butterflies in his stomach. Suddenly he was not ready, not in the mood to
resist her, but he had to ... Now!

He grabbed her around the waist from her left side and half pulled, half
pushed her roughly toward the bed. He had not foreseen her response. Jay's
surprise attack infuriated Amy. She turned into him, grabbing the fist thing
she could, his ear and started twisting. At almost the same instant she bit
him on the shoulder, hard. The pain caused him to loosen his grip, only
slightly but enough that she could reach for his crotch. He brought his right
hand down to protect himself and began to twist away. Instead of continuing
after his genitals, she grabbed his right hand, one of her hands bending back
his fingers, the other twisting his palm hard. She slid behind him,
simultaneously twisting his arm, using her leverage to press his wrist upwards
towards his shoulder blades and hooking his right ankle with hers. It all
happened so quickly that Jay not knowing which way to respond lost his balance
and fell. As he went down she twisted his arm higher and ended up on top of
him with a completed hammerlock. When Jay recovered his breath, he tried to
reach back with his free arm to break the hold. It was a mistake. The fighting
had only heated Amy's anger even further. She captured his that wrist, too,
holding both wrists up high between his shoulder blades in a double
hammerlock. His struggles were ineffectual.

Jay could not believe what had happened. He had been too tentative and too
slow, but it was too late now. He was angry with himself and with her. She
didn't fight fair.

Silently he cursed himself for letting this happen to him. Of course, it
wasn't his fault. Amy had tricked him. He tried to twist. She merely pushed
both his wrists higher. "Ow! Damn it!" His anger only stoked her anger.

"Don't swear at me. You started this."

"You cheated."

"I didn't."

"You did. You bit me."

"So?"

"You don't fight fair."

Her anger was now becoming suffused with a sense of power and increasing
sexual desire. "All's fair in love and war and this is both; so stop
complaining." Her tongue probed into his ear, angering him further. He tried
to block out the sexual implications and turn his head away, but she pressed
down tonguing his ear canal and blowing into it. She loosed his right wrist
pushing his left a little higher.

"Oh-h-h," he groaned. Amy could hardly bear the sexual excitement. She began
to move her hips up and down. And Jay felt it, felt her pelvis pressing into
his buttocks rhythmically, thrust, thrust, thrust. She was humping his butt,
all the time continuing to probe his ear with her tongue. The pain in his
shoulder was bearable, but real, enough to keep him quiet under her control.

Jay was physically defeated, helpless beneath his sexually aroused wife, but
still angry. He would not give in. He tried to resist sexual arousal. He
forced himself to notice the dresser; he counted the drawers and then the
handles. He had to think of anything but what was happening to him. He could
not, he would not, let her do this to him. But she had tapped into his deepest
urge, which was the same as his deepest fear, being held helpless by a strong,
sexual female. It was so arousing to be held this way. Her strong thrusts were
getting to him. He was now fully conscious of her mastery over him and his
total helplessness. The realization of his position escalated his sexual
excitement, rapidly sweeping away all resistance so that he lay passively
experiencing the thrill of being humped by this powerful woman. He was
floating in a new level of intense experience caught up in the excitement of
his dominant wife and her thrusting rhythm.

Amy was excited, too. She had shown him. His almost whispered, "Oh" with each
of her pelvic thrusts told her that she was in control, that she was holding
her man helpless, that she was doing the sexual thing to him. But her anger
had not totally abated. Almost reflexley, she wanted to push her control
further, to punish him. "Give up." It was an order not a question. At first he
did not answer. "Well?" Her voice was more demanding the pain in his shoulder
increased. On one level giving up violated his very being; he was a man and as
a man ashamed to be helpless and ashamed even more to be enjoying his wife's
dominance. But desire overcame both his anger and his shame. He was reveling
in her power over him. He wanted to give in to her, more than he had wanted
anything in his life. And she was demanding an answer that in his aroused
state he could not withhold.

"Yes. Yes. I give. I give in. I give up. Whatever."

That statement, said with passion almost elation, was Jay's total surrender
and Amy's final turn on. Her anger and her desire merged. "Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Say it!"

"I love you."

"I ... love ... you ... too" Each word was driven home with a pelvic thrust.

Then she loosed his wrist and, putting her arms around him, her thumb and
fingers seeking his nipples. Then she pinched them while continuing to hump
him and to tongue his ear. Jay lay beneath her in silent ecstasy enhanced by
the pain in his nipples.

She continued for a few moments and then raised herself, rolled his passive
body over and fondled and sucked on his breasts. When he began to writhe she
took him inside her, commanding, "Lie still," as she resumed her thrusts this
time from the front, this time with him inside her. Obediently, he lay still
until he could control himself no longer and then he responded passionately to
her rhythm. Neither had before experienced such a climax.

When they were through, Amy stayed on top, her strong arms around Jay, her
legs spread so that, when he started to turn he met resistance. She kissed him
and continued to move her pelvis against his dominantly. The excitement had
gone out of Jay. Now he wanted to get away, to think about what happened to
recover his manhood. He thought to himself, "She's just going to keep me
here." He was reluctant to struggle after the tremendous lovemaking.
"Besides," he thought ruefully and a bit resentfully, "she'll try to wrestle
me down again." So, he lay still not resisting but not responding.

Amy sensed his restlessness, his desire to get away, but she continued to hold
him for perhaps another ten minutes enjoying her power over him. Finally she
gave a couple of more pelvic thrusts and rolled off him, saying, "I liked
that. You don't know how much I love you."

"I love you, too." Jay said the words, but inside he was in turmoil. His wife
had forced him or enticed him, whatever, to give up to her. He had surrendered
to her and he had said those awful words. How could he face her? How could he
face himself? That night he had a hard time sleeping.

The next day Jay managed to take a long solitary walk at lunch hour. He had
always been honest with himself and was determined to be so now. He had gone
after his wife intending to dominate her physically. He had been planning it
for weeks. He was in good physical shape. He had hesitated a little at the
start, but he had made himself go forward and had had the advantage of
surprise. Yet he had ended up helpless underneath her. The fact was his wife
had beaten him in a fair fight. She may have been stronger, or quicker, or
more skillful, or more determined, more ready to fight dirty going for his
balls or his fingers. He did not know. All he knew was that he had tried and
she had won. He had fantasized about such things. She had beaten him many
times in play, but this was different. This was for real. He was ashamed. All
his bringing up had prepared him to cherish women, to look after them and if
necessary to protect them. He felt sick and giddy.

Now that he had faced up to the fact that his wife had beaten him, he was
ready to go further. She had taken him on sexually against his will, at least
against his initial will. She had had him under control physically, trapped so
that he could not get away. His will power was not strong enough. She had
overcome his resistance. His desire for this strong woman overcame his male
pride and he surrendered himself to her. He had done that in the past and had
liked it, but this was different. In the past he had given himself to her
because he wanted to. Last night he wanted to be the dominant one, but she had
totally taken over first his body and then his mind. Enough for now - He went
back to work.

He felt increasingly nervous as he walked home. His stomach began to churn. He
was trembling. He wondered if he were loosing his mind. He steeled himself
trying to fight off the terror. Finally it subsided.

That evening he watched closely as his trim wife moved around their home. She
was well-coordinated but clearly a woman, with a woman's arms and a woman's
breasts. Her shoulders were maybe broad for a woman, but not like the
shoulders of a man. Later he went into the bathroom and closed the door and
stripped off his shirt. Embarrassed and surreptitiously he stood before the
mirror in a double biceps pose. He was a man with a man's shoulders and a
man's body; his biceps were larger than hers; his body was larger. Quickly he
looked away.

And he didn't know what to say to Amy. There she was his wife who had beaten
him up and forced sexual arousal on him, overcoming all his resistance until
he had surrendered and uttered the words that he could now never take back. He
was nervous again. He admitted to himself that he was afraid of her and afraid
of his own weakness, afraid of the surrender that was deep inside of him ready
to be wakened if she chose, afraid that she was taking from him his very
manhood.

The experience had not been quite so momentous for Amy. After all, in her
mind, she had beaten him before. Besides he had attacked her and had it coming
to him. She knew that holding him down stimulated him sexually and turned her
on too especially when she could sense his sexual arousal and surrender.
Hearing him give up was exciting and she knew it had been exciting for him as
well. (It was funny that he liked to give up to her. She would never give up
to him, never would admit that he was in control.) But he really liked to be
dominated and she liked to dominate him, when she was in the mood. Dominating
him did not threaten her femininity. And she did not think that she might be
threatening his masculinity. He was the man after all. She had learned to
handle him, but he was, in her mind, a powerful male figure nonetheless even
if he never showed that side of himself.

Two nights after Jay had given up Amy snuggled up to him. She held up her face
to him. He kissed her. She snuggled closer. "Hold me." He did. Here she was
acting like a traditional wife. "Hm-m-m. You are so wonderful. I'll always be
the loving wife of a wonderful man." The lovemaking was gentle as she gave
herself to him. Jay felt his confidence and manhood returning. Amy was
fulfilled giving herself to her man. It seemed so natural.

Afterwards, he wondered, "What is going on? Am I just following her lead? I
have to do some leading myself."

The gentle lovemaking went on for months. Amy was satisfied. Controlling Jay
was a challenge she had met. It did not seem as exciting as it had. Besides
she liked to think of Jay as a male as strong and masculine as any other male,
as able to hold his own with any man. She was still attracted to strong
aggressive males on film and to one of their friends who was always a bit
overbearing.

Then one night Amy pushed Jay and then started to tickle him. Jay resisted and
she threw herself against him. Jay fought back and was surprised to find her
body yielding. There was no reaching for his fingers or his balls, only a mild
resistance that he overcame easily. He shoved her down on the bed, mounted her
and had his way with her. Or, as he asked himself later, did he? She had
goaded him and then yielded almost as in the past he had goaded her and then
yielded.

V

Jay was in love, but not totally, satisfied. As time went by he longed to
wrestle Amy and loose to her, to have her hold him, blow in his ear, suck his
breasts, hold his genitals. At times his imagination ran wild. Then he could
feel her humping his butt and hear his words of surrender, "I give up." And
yet, he was nervous, still afraid. He felt vulnerable. He might loose control
to his wife or to his own emotions; he might loose his manhood. He vacillated
between three poles, wanting to goad her into taking him, wanting to show that
he could dominate her, and wanting just to continue as they were pretending
that nothing unusual had ever happened between them. And during this time he
watched her, wondering that so feminine a creature could have extracted his
surrender, how this woman could be so strong and quick.. He imagined wrestling
with her, sometimes winning, sometimes loosing. When he imagined loosing, his
felt cold all over except while his hands sweated. He hid these feeling from
Amy; he would have been shamed had she known of what he considered to be his
weakness.

It had been a wonderful weekend. They had played tennis together in a mixed
doubles tournament, coming is second only to the local champions. Jay thought
about how good they were together; he had enjoyed every minute of the
contests. They had both enjoyed the party afterwards and downed a few beers.
Still in their tennis clothes, they were sitting side-by-side on a bench in
their home chatting about the games and their opponents. Since the bench had
no back, Jay was bracing himself with both hands on the bench.

Perhaps it was the beer that made Amy irritable as she listened to him brag
about his tennis game. How could he be proud of coming in second? They would
have come in first if he had played better. An overwhelming desire to dominate
Jay was growing in her. Watching him sit there talking was more that she could
bear. Suddenly, she had an urge to spank him. She could do it if she wanted to
and she did want to. She wanted to show him what she could do, to master him
right now.

Suddenly Jay felt excruciating pain in the ring and little fingers of his
right hand that was next to Amy. She had seized his weakest fingers and was
bending them back with one hand while the other held his hand. With her
leverage she rotated his whole arm bringing pain to his shoulder. As he leaned
forward to relive the pain, she twisted further brining his arm behind him and
forcing his hand up between his shoulder blades a maneuver she was familiar
with from earlier fights. She forced him down so that he was half lying face
down across the bench with his feet on the floor. She swung her legs so that
one was over the lower part of his back and the other behind his thighs. She
shifted her grip so that one hand held his wrist using her leverage to push it
painfully higher. She raised the other hand and came down hard on his
buttocks.

Jay's body convulsed. He struggled to free himself but to no avail. He was
helpless in his wife's hammerlock. Then came the second blow to his butt and
the third and the fourth. "Damn it. Stop."

"Don't swear." And then came the fifth and the sixth. For Jay it was like a
dream, a sexy dream, a wet dream, an embarrassing dream. The spanking hurt but
not too much. His penis was getting rigid despite his anger. There were
fifteen blows in all before she stopped and let him up.

Jay leapt to his feet, puzzled and enraged, his sexual arousal waning rapidly.
They were standing face to face now. "Why in hell did you do that?"

"To see what you would do."

The words were said simply, but to Jay they seemed like a taunt, the ultimate
put down. The woman had spanked the man and now she was rubbing it in, mocking
him, daring for him to do something. "What ... " He left out the rest of the
sentence, " ... do you expect me to do?" Even in his rage he knew that would
sound weak and unmanly. But now he was manly. He could take no more; he would
take no more. She had disgraced him. She had given him the ultimate test of
his manhood.

Amy watched him, a little ashamed of what she had done to her husband whom she
loved, but overwhelmingly pleased with herself. She had done it!! She had done
it!! She had spanked him!! A tingling excitement seemed to start in her heels
and spread throughout her body. Her triumph was exhilarating and
overwhelmingly sexual. She could feel it between her legs. And she read her
husband perfectly. She had goaded him almost beyond what he could bear. He was
humiliated, angry, confused and uncertain about what do to next. Now maybe she
would know how aggressive he could be. Maybe he could take her tonight. It
would be exciting to see.

Still, Jay's all out attack caught Amy off guard, but rather than alarming her
it stimulated her to action. His arms reached around his wife pulling her into
him. She was perfectly calm as she struggled against him, soon getting one arm
free. She leaned forward and bit him painfully in the neck. When he tried to
shake loose, she formed her free hand into a claw and went for his eyes. He
closed his eyes and pushed her away. She relaxed her bite, moved back and
brought her knee up into his groin. She was too close to incapacitate him, but
it jolted him and hurt. He backed off, protecting himself by turning sideways.
Anger was driving Jay, but the thrill of battle was now driving Amy. She had
more than held her own against this enraged man. The lust of conquest was on
her.

But before Amy could attack Jay bulled into her with his head down. She slid
away from his charge throwing her arms around his head and neck. In an instant
she was strangling him as she battled to stay upright. He slipped and they
both went down with Amy threatening to shut off his air. Now, however, he had
leverage and pulled free. They both jumped again to their feet and faced each
other. Jay was breathing hard and was worried that Amy looked fresh.

He tackled her. This time connecting getting both arms around her thighs and
brining her to the floor. For the first time Jay had a clear advantage as the
wrestled on the floor. Amy did not like the feeling being trapped. She
squirmed, trying to kick her legs. He was trying to keep them under control
and work his way up her body. She caught his left ear and twisted painfully.
He tried to move up her body faster, but lost control and Amy managed to turn
on her stomach. Jay tried to turn her, but she got one arm over his shoulder.
He tried to slide away, but she stayed with him and then she had one leg over
his. Now he tried to turn away and suddenly she was on top of him. He tried to
rise and get away, but she had a lock on his arm. Then he was rolled on his
back with Amy on top of him trying to hold him down. In a panic he managed to
continue the roll and escaped.

They were both breathing hard. Their sweat soaked bodies were slippery and
hard to hold. Their prior battles had been short-lived before; one had
dominated and the other had quickly given in. But this fight had turned into a
primitive battle of the sexes, woman versus man. It was about sex, sexual
power, sexual dominance and sexual release. The man and the woman fought with
all of the strength and skill that they could muster. But the end no matter
who won would be a coupling that would satisfy the vanquished as well as the
victor. That was their relationship. So why did they fight? Neither could have
answered that question, perhaps because of the joy of hand-to-hand combat,
perhaps because of the challenge of the struggle, perhaps for the sexual
thrill of straining female body against male body, perhaps because each knew
there had to be a winner and a loser.

The fought differently, the man fought with total seriousness. He now was
driven by fear of losing as much as by anger. He sensed that this was the
final fight to protect something that despite his fantasies he valued highly,
the sense of his manhood. Amy driven by the lust for battle desired to win, to
show herself and show him that she that she could succeed in this their most
serious fight. The man was bound by a code of fairness. There were certain
things he would not do. He would not pull her hair, or go after her breasts or
her fingers or her ears. The woman had the advantage of having no such
scruples. Amy was confident that she would prevail. Jay was afraid she might
prevail.

Now they were on their knees about five feet away from each other, each
gulping in air, Jay feeling lucky to have escaped, Amy waiting to see what he
would do next. She did not have long to wait. Jay came forward on his knees.
Amy half stood and threw her self on him staggering him back and giving
herself the advantage. Jay could not hold her off. She had him on his back
trying to pin his shoulders. Jay was tiring, but Amy was not expert and, when
she got a bit off balance, he upset her and caught her in a scissors. His
strong legs squeezed hard. Amy's calm never left her. She countered by
grabbing his crotch. Jay had thought he had her with his scissors, but then he
felt her hand in his crotch squeezing his penis hard; fortunately for him his
pants had given him enough protection that she had missed his balls. When Jay
felt her hand moving, searching, he gave up the scissors and pushed her away,
anything to protect his balls.

As he started to climb to his feet, Amy achieved a side headlock. He was bent
forward so that he was pulled over her hip and off balance. She succeeded in
wrestling him to the floor. For a moment he lay in her arms exhausted. Then
her voice came for the first time since the start, soft and gentle, "Give up?"

"No!" With a supreme effort he got his knees under him and, half lifting her
off the ground, broke the hold.

The both stood nearly totally exhausted. Amy smiled, "Give up to me and we can
make love."

"No!"

"I'll be on top. I'll do the work."

"No! No!"

"You'd like it."

Her words cut into him. She had seen right through him to his weakness. He
thought she was taunting him. His stomach seemed to turn over.

Before he could recover, Amy attacked his right leg, getting a grip on it and
trying to bring him down. Jay tried to keep over her and end up on top. Back
and forth they struggled. It was as wearing as anything they had done. Amy had
the tactical advantage, but Jay was heavier and using all his weight and
strength to keep from going down. Back and forth, back and forth. Finally Amy
got her shoulder right and Jay went down with Amy on top. Amy had Jay on his
back and was determined to pin him, but she could not. They wrestled hard, Amy
on the offensive, Jay defending as if his life depended on it. Three minutes
went by before Jay saw an opening and managed to shove Amy away, but she came
right back. Jay was tiring; the sweat was pouring off him; he felt his
strength waning. He was now carried only by his will power.

But then Amy broke off. "Just give up. Be a good sport. I want to make love."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"You haven't beaten me."

"Not yet," she answered. Jay was getting nervous. His penis was stiffening. He
couldn't let her talk him into giving up or even slacking off.

He attacked, driving her back. She fell backwards on the bed. Now he thought
he had her, but she pulled up her feet and drove them into his stomach,
pushing him back. She was on her feet before he could attack again. She leapt
at him.

Now they wrestled standing up, each trying to throw the other, but fatigue
weakened slowed their motions. Amy suddenly threw her arms around Jay's lower
back and pulled the two bodies together. Jay felt her wet arms holding him and
her womanly body against his masculine body. He could feel the deep intakes of
her breathing. The smell of her sweat overpowered his senses. Then he felt her
right leg between his legs as she brought her thigh up into his crotch, moving
and grinding against his genitals, pressing, moving, pressing. It was
uncomfortable for Jay bur very arousing. His penis stiffened; his resistance
slackened. Jay tried to back away, but Amy held him. Her arms now seemed too
strong for him. She lowered her thigh and then brought it up again a little
more forcefully. Jay again tried to back off, but Amy tightened her grip,
holding him close while moving her thigh against his crotch. Jay saw the end.
So did Amy. The female had conquered the male. His struggles had become weak
and ineffectual. His concentration was gone. He could think only about what
was happening to him, not about what he should be doing or even was doing. He
gave in to the passivity forced on him. Sexual desire blotted out everything
else. He longed to be taken sexually, to yield his male body to this forceful,
strong conqueress, who held him helpless. Amy was elated. She bent back his
supple, yielding body.

Then to his surprise she released her hold on him. They stood facing each
other, Jay shaking inside, trembling with defeat and passion. Amy did not
follow up her advantage. She stood looking at him, apparently waiting for him
- To do what? He noted she was staring at his crotch where his penis was
straining against his clothes.

"Give up." Her voice was soft, commanding and inviting.

Jay was speechless; why didn't she just take him? He was ready. All he wanted
was for her to take him forcefully, to perform sex on his body now beyond
resistance. He had physically and mentally surrendered, but some last shred of
resistance would not let him speak. He could not get the words out. Instead he
said, "No. No, Amy, no. Please ... I." He tried to keep his voice unemotional,
not to seem to be pleading.

If she had once again said, "Give up," again he would have done so. But now
that she had beaten him, she wanted something else. She said, "OK. If you
won't give up, you'll have to do all the work. You'll have to be on top
because I'm ready now." She pulled off her blouse and started to loosen her
bra. The bra came off and then her lower garments. She lay down on the bed.
"Here I am. Are you man or mouse?" She smiled at him.

Jay forgot about his defeat and his fatigue and moved to the bed taking off
his clothes as he went.

VI

Amy and Jay continued to challenge, excite and love each other. Most would
agree that defines a successful marriage. Amy always thought of Jay as a
successful, strong male figure on whom she could rely. Of course, she and she
alone knew how to control him. She liked the idea that she had been able to
hold him down and spank him and to make him give up to her. She never dreamed
that any other woman or any other man for that matter could handle him the way
she could. That was her special power over him that she believed was hers
alone. She could turn him into putty whenever she wanted and, when the mood
was on her, she wanted to.

Jay, always honest with himself, accepted the fact he was no match for Amy
physically. She had out-wrestled him, forced him to give up, actually spanked
him against his will. When she wanted, she could take him sexually. None of
their friends or members of their family would have believed that she was
strong enough or skillful enough to handle him the way she did. He also knew
that a part of him liked it that way. He might feel nervous or ashamed when he
thought of himself giving up to her, held down while she spanked him, but his
penis was like an emotional barometer. It stiffened while he felt shame. He
also longed for the times when the mood was on her, and she would hold him
down and take him sexually. He also liked the fact that sometimes she liked
him to take her. The latter was not as exciting, but it gave balance to their
lives.

When she became pregnant, they stayed in the traditional male-female
relationship. Jay was the solicitous, helpful, stronger partner. He thought
that their days of wrestling for dominance might be over. But six months after
Amy stopped breast-feeding, and three months after she started vigorous
exercise, she grabbed Jay in a side headlock and they were at it. For Amy it
was a breakout from enforced total femininity and motherhood. She had
forgotten none of her tricks. She grabbed for Jay's genitals. When he tried to
protect himself, she caught his ring finger and with that painful leverage his
hand. He knew she would try for a hammerlock. As he twisted to try to escape,
one of her hands caught at his balls. He dropped to the floor to protect
himself, but she still had his fingers and using both hands finally secured
the hammerlock.

"I've got you now." She blew in his ear and began pelvic thrusts. "Give up?"

"No." With than he tried to roll, and, catching her off guard, managed to do
so but it availed him nothing. He ended on his back still under Amy's chest as
she lay cross-ways over him. Her hand came up hard into his crotch and
captured his balls. She felt his body jerk and his free hand grasp her wrist.
She tightened her grip. "Ow. Oh."

"Stop fighting me." He did. "Give up?"

"No." She squeezed. "Oh ... h ... h." She didn't want to really hurt him and
stopped squeezing.

"I want to hear you give up. Say it!" With that a little squeeze.

"Oh ... h ... h. Oh, Amy." While still holding his balls, she moved her hand
around to stimulate him.

"You're beaten and you might as well admit it." Squeeze.

"Ow ... I admit it. You win."

"Then be a good sport and give up." When he was silent, she went on, "You just
don't want to give up to you wife. Is that it?"

"No."

"Then give up to me." She began kissing him. Then she took his breast in her
mouth as she had not for over a year and sucked hard on it. She kept
stimulating him and sucking one breast and then the other. His body was now
pure sensation. "You are beaten. You're weak as a kitten. There is going to be
no sex until you give up. Say it now."

Jay's will was as totally overpowered, as was his body. "I give up."

"Admit that you give up to your wife. Say it."

"I give up to my wife."

"That's the kind of man I want."

She mounted him, took him inside her, raised her hips and thrust down upon
him. Amy was over her pregnancy.

But Amy was changed. Only occasionally did she respond to Jay's invitations
aggressively. More often she brought out the aggressor in him. But every once
in a while she claimed her mastery just to keep life a bit uncertain.