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The walk from Grand Central to the 27th Street address Carol had given Jim seemed to take forever, Jim was so anxious for his match to begin. As he walked along, Jim dreamed of being held by Carol in various holds, but failed to understand how a girl who sounded so sexy on the phone could manage to squeeze a submission out of him. He had watched many videos of mixed matches where the women had the men yelling out agonized submissions, but it was always obvious that the holds were staged and the men were submitting "for the camera." Although Jim was slightly built, at 5'8" and 140 pounds, he felt he was strong enough to take any woman. Carol's promise to make him beg for mercy seemed remote.
Finally he reached the address. He rang the doorbell, and someone buzzed him in. He climbed the two flights of stairs promised by Carol and knocked on her door. After a minute the door was opened by a very tall pretty blonde wearing an electric blue housecoat. "Hi, you must be Jim," she said pleasantly. "I'm Carol. Come on in."
Jim walked in to a pleasant apartment, dominated by several large wrestling mats placed on the floor. What furniture there was was pushed to one side. "As you can see, I have everything ready for our match. Do you have something for me, Jim?" said Carol.
Jim fished in his pocket and found the $200 they had agreed on. Carol took it into another room and quickly returned. "While you strip down to your shorts, I'll go over the ground rules. Ok?"
Jim readily agreed and started to undress. Carol slipped off her bathrobe. "Wow!" Jim thought. Carol was a "10" in anybody's book. About six feet tall, she was wearing a tightly-fitting one-piece shiny blue bathing suit. Her breasts were nice-sized, but not overly large. The shiny fabric of the bathing suit was stretched so tightly over her luscious body that he could see her erect nipples outlined. Her legs were long and "ran all the way to her ass." They were very shapely, but Jim could tell that they were well-muscled. Carol struck a biceps-flex, revealing arm muscles that would make many guys proud. "This may not be as easy as I thought!" raced through Jim's mind.
Carol outlined the ground rules for their match. "Number 1. No biting, scratching or hitting with closed fists. Slapping and spanking are ok, but judo chops are out. Number 2. You can only win a hold by a pin, but I can win by either pin or submission. Number 3. None of this silly three-second pin stuff. We declare a pin when the loser agrees that he is helpless to get up. Number 4. After a pin or submission we have a one minute rest break, then go again. Number 5. The match goes for one hour or until one of us gives up totally. Number 6. If we roll off the mat, we break and start again. Agreed?"
Jim nodded his assent and told Carol he was ready whenever she was. Carol set a wind-up timer for one hour and started it. She stepped to the center of the mats and motioned for him to follow. Taking a slight crouch, she said "Let's wrestle, sucker!"
The two circled warily, each looking for an opening. Jim made a lunge for Carol's head, but she deftly spun away, twirling around so quickly Jim could scarcely believe his eyes. He was still recovering his balance from this lunge when Carol jumped him, taking him in a side headlock. She locked her hands and quickly rolled him over her right hip onto the mat. Pivoting around, Carol tightened the headlock and spread her legs for stability. She was arranged at a right angle to him, with most of her weight on his chest and head, one beautiful fabric-clad breast thrust in his face.
Normally Jim would love to be under such a well-built beautiful woman in such a position. However, it was quickly apparent to Jim that her well-muscled arms were indeed strong, for the headlock was painful! She worked the hold, twisting and flexing her arms, sending spasms of pain through Jim's neck and head. She countered any move on his part by pivoting to keep their 90-degree arrangement. Jim was in real trouble, and the match was only seconds old! Carol continued to work the hold, and before long Jim could sense some dizziness creeping up.
Finally he managed to jam his right arm between his neck and her arms. Forcing against her grip with all his strength, he managed to break the hold. Rolling away from Carol, Jim shook his head, trying to shake off the pain and dizziness. He didn't have long to think about it, though. Carol jumped him from behind and quickly took him in a sleeper. Her right arm was around his neck, her hand nestled in her left elbow. With her left hand she pressed firmly against the back of his head, driving his head deep into the crushing vee of her right arm. "I've got you now, sucker! Do you give?" she taunted.
"Never!" grunted Jim. "Ok," she retorted. "Say good night, little boy." She increased the force with both arms, and Jim quickly began to feel the pressure. His ears were ringing and he was having real problems breathing. Carol was pushing so hard against his head that he toppled forward, enabling her to bring her weight into play.
The last thing he remembered was her legs sliding against his sides and back. Then he was flat on his stomach, trying to figure out where he was. As he tried to get up, his muscles jerked spasmodically in a "chicken walk." Gradually he came to his senses and realized that her sleeper hold had really "put him out."
"That's one for me," boasted Carol. "You get one minute before we go again!"
Jim tried to make the most of his minute's rest, but he still felt shaky when Carol said, "Let's go."
This time, as the two circled, Jim was careful not to make such a rash lunge for Carol. He made several cautious moves toward Carol, but she was always a split second ahead of him, spinning out of the way ready to pounce a second later. Finally Carol lost her concentration for an instant and Jim was able to get his arm around her neck in a side headlock. He wasn't able to flip her smoothly onto the mat as she had done him, however, and he two wrestlers fell down together. Although he managed to keep his headlock, Carol was able to snake her legs around his left leg and lock her ankles, scissoring his thigh. She immediately tightened her leg grip and started working out of his headlock. A sudden jolt from her legs made him flinch, giving Carol the opening she needed. She pushed up on his arms and pulled her head down, escaping his grip. Quickly she snared his left arm in a half-Nelson. The pair grappled for several minutes, as Carol gradually asserted more and more control over Jim.
Finally, as he tired, Carol was able to pin his other arm and mesh her fingers behind his neck, establishing a full-Nelson. She tightened the leg scissors and the Nelson, twisting him painfully. "How you doing, big boy? Wanna give?" she taunted. Jim was determined to ride this through, however. "Never!" he grunted once again.
Carol maintained the pair of painful holds for several minutes more. His leg ached from the constrictive pressure of her muscular thighs, and his neck hurt like hell from the tight Nelson. Still he wouldn't submit.
Eventually Carol decided that this attack wouldn't be successful. She released his leg, using the Nelson to keep Jim sprawled on his stomach. Suddenly she let go of his arms and spun around, keeping her full weight squarely on the center of his back. She scooped up his feet and firmly tucked each ankle under her armpits. Squatting, she pulled down on his legs and leaned back, executing a perfect Boston Crab. The pressure on his back and legs was instant and excruciating. "Let me know when you've had enough." She chuckled.
Jim tried his best to press up with his arms to relieve the pressure and to force his legs back, but it was to no avail. Carol had the hold too well established and was now increasing the pressure. It felt as if his back were breaking. Suddenly he saw bright lights flash in front of his eyes as his back muscles spasmed. At the same time an intense pain shot from his spine. Instantly he screamed "I submit! I submit! Just let me go!!"
Carol released his legs and sat down on his sore back. Jim was totally out of breath, and her weight made it more difficult to breathe, not to mention get up. "Gotcha again, didn't I!" she crowed, and spanked his bottom hard four or five times.
She stood up and helped Jim to his feet. "You took a lot of pain in that round, Jim. Let's rest five minutes."
Jim didn't argue, just groaned in agreement and sprawled on a nearby sofa. After a few minutes his breathing had returned to normal, but his back still hurt fiercely. Carol was back in the middle of the mats, motioning for Jim to join her.
Finally Jim drug himself over to the mat and warily approached Carol. Carol played with him, dancing away from his clumsy attempts to engage her. Finally she took him in a front neck grip, turned her back to him, and vigorously threw him over her head. Jim landed roughly on the mat. Carol was all over him. She slipped her shapely legs around his waist, establishing a perfectly placed body scissors, and took him in a side headlock. Carol's legs were beautifully shaped, but their muscles were deadly. She tightened her grip around Jim's waist, painfully constricting him. He flailed at her legs but couldn't affect her python-like grip. After struggling against the two constrictive holds for a few minutes, he collapsed, offering no resistance.
"You're mine now, buddy-boy," Carol hissed into his ear. She tightened her scissors grip rhythmically, driving the air from his body. "Let me know when you've had enough."
Jim was in absolute agony. Carol's deadly legs were painfully crushing his waist, just below his rib cage, and made breathing nigh onto impossible. Just as soon as he could manage to take in a small gasp of air she would tighten her legs, expelling it for him. He finally tried to gasp out a submission, but he had too little air to do more than croak. "What's that, Jim? I can't hear you!" Carol growled through gritted teeth, as she bore down on his waist once again.
This routine continued for a few more minutes, Jim growing steadily weaker. Finally he was no longer moving, his face a reddish-purple. Carol released the headlock and lifted his arm. When she let go, it flopped limply on the mat. She had squeezed Jim totally unconscious. Carol patted his cheek and disengaged her legs.
After two or three minutes Jim came around, looking like something the cat had dragged in. "I've had enough," he coughed. "You're just too much for me. Where did you learn all that?"
"Jim, when you called," Carol smiled, "I told you that domination was my business, and wrestling was my favorite part. I've been doing this for five years now, and seldom lose a fall anymore. By the way, let me know when you want to try again. I give a discount for losers! You haven't even tried some of my better holds yet. Ever been in a head scissors or a camel clutch?"