Mixed wrestling, 330 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), completely CFNM, no blood.

It was like one of those excruciating moments many people get in a bad dream. Nick had done the same thing he did every time he visited the gym. When he had finished his work-out, he had gone to the men’s locker room, taken off his gym clothes and put them in the locker, pressing the “Send to laundromat” button. Then, naked, he went to his second locker where his street clothes were, entered the code as usual and … “Wrong code,” answered the indicator.

“I must have typed it in wrongly,” he reassured himself. He typed it again, taking care this time. “Wrong code,” repeated the indicator. Nick felt a cold sweat trickle down his spine and shivered. Shaking now, he tried the code again – and the alarm sounded. “Unauthorised code entered. Seek assistance,” flashed the screen. He tried not to panic and to reason. All right, he’d set the alarm off. True, he was naked; but so was every man for a few moments in a male locker room.

He started at the sound of a feminine chuckle behind him. Its familiarity stirred a fear within him. Sure enough it was Christine, smirking at him. They were both students in the same university class, and she bullied him. She had a slim, girlish figure: slim waist, narrow hips, and a trim, pert round bottom, but with perfect, large, womanly breasts. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that she hadn’t changed out of her exercise leotard. The white, long-sleeved bodysuit clung to her oh-so-tightly. It was cut high on the hips and made her figure look athletic, distracting all the boys in the gym class. She knew it of course, and relished it. White high-top sneakers protected Christine’s feet. She wore them to be able to move with speed and comfort in her karate classes (and because they looked good). Despite his predicament, Nick realised that he had an erection.

“What’s this, Nicky?” Christine demanded, smiling scornfully and pointing at his erection. “Are you going to masturbate in the University locker room? You pervert, always running away from the girls, were you going to have a private wank? I’ll make you pay for this in front of the whole class!”

“Wh-what are you doing in the men’s locker room?” Nick asked hesitantly, trying to cover his erection with his hands.

“I heard the alarm, and thought I’d catch the burglar red-handed!”

“You?”

“Why not? And it looks like I’ve found you!”

“But it’s my own locker! It wouldn’t accept the code that I’ve always used.”

“Well come with me to security. They’ll be able to verify what you say.”

“I don’t want to go with you! You can’t be in the men’s locker room anyway.”

“Not so fast Nicky. You’re always running away from me, but you can’t this time. It’s time you and I had a chat about your bad attitude.”

Nick made to go along the corridor between the rows of lockers, but Christine raised her long leg gracefully, just as she did in her daily gymnastic routine, and placed her foot on the locker opposite, blocking his escape route.

“Let me go!”

No. You have no respect for girls, so ask my permission properly!”

“God damn, take your leg out of the way, or I’ll make you do it!”

“You?” Christine laughed. “Sounds interesting! OK, I’ll give you a chance. Get down on your knees, and I’ll let you crawl under my left leg. And if you kiss my right foot perhaps I’ll forget about wanting to kick your ass.”

It was too much for Nick. Being a skilled boxer, he was able to defeat any guy with a pair of jabs, or one good uppercut. But he had never had a fight with a woman. He stepped closer to the girl and, with both hands, tried to move her leg out of the way. No result. Nick strained every muscle, but Christine’s leg didn’t budge. Her bored expression showed how effortlessly she was able to withstand his attempt.

“Don’t touch me, you pervert! Look how tiny your cock is, even when it’s erect. In fact it’s probably grown nearly 2 inches since you’ve been touching my leg! Keep your dirty hands off me, or I’ll teach you to respect girls!”

Feeling stupid, Nick crouched a bit to get under her leg, but she lowered it to stop him. “Kneel down and kiss my feet, then ask me if you can get past!”

Nick got angry. He grabbed Christine’s waist with both hands in an effort to push her away. She shimmied round so that she had her back to him and, momentarily teasing and distracting him by grinding her lovely round bottom against his erection, bent forward and executed a perfect judo throw, which had him sprawling painfully at her feet. He tried to get up, but there was the girl in a white leotard sitting high up on his chest against his chin, and his arms were pinned to the floor above his head. Straining his eyes upwards, he could see her magnificent breasts swinging slightly with her quickened breathing.

“Where are you going, Nicky?” You didn’t ask me if you could go.”

“Let me go, bitch!”

“Wrong thing to say. Now you’ve got to apologise,” she sniggered, rubbing her pelvis into his face and smothering him. “This is fun, and a real turn-on!”

When Nick had almost no air and was ready to faint, she tugged aside the thin gusset of her bodysuit. “Now, say sorry with your tongue!”

She settled on his mouth gingerly, barely brushing his lips with the furred cleft below the thatch. The musk of her scent filled his nostrils. He closed his eyes, instinctively knowing what to do. With his arms trapped below her bent legs, all he could do with his hands was slide them over her buttocks to her hips, and back again. Not that he wanted to do much more with them! He pulled gently down on her hips, moving her completely onto his open mouth, pushing his tongue out and pressing into the deep furrow, against the little nub that nestled at the top where her lips began. She inhaled sharply when he pressed his tongue harder, and pulled her down harder still against his mouth. When he swept his tongue firmly, from side to side, over her clitoris she gasped, and ground herself against his mouth.

He licked her hard and slowly, left and right, knowing his tongue would be sore later as well as his lips and neck muscles. But he was completely and utterly intent on tasting her, licking her, sucking her, making her feel good, his nostrils flaring, breathing hard through her hair. She moaned and panted, louder and longer than she had ever done before. He felt her thighs shake around his face and neck. The nub of her clit swelled beneath his tongue as he sucked it, and tongued it back and forth, faster now. The taste and scent of her most secret parts filled his senses, as he delighted in his position.

His lips and tongue knew nothing but the tight nylon of her leotard at the top, the slippery smooth texture of her rising nub, the little folded hood hiding the most sensitive part. Her swollen outer lips parted to let him slide his tongue down further into the inner, more delicate lips. There, Nick tasted the first slow flow of her sweet tang and wanted more. His cock was still erect, but so far ignored. Nick moaned plaintively, trying to move his pelvis a bit, and his rider felt it. Christine had been so engrossed with Nick’s ministrations, she had been oblivious to all else. But now she decided to play with his erection, so she straddled his face in a 69 position. “I’ll show you who’s boss here!” she announced, grasping his cock.

“Yes PLEASE,” thought Nick. An electric current shot through his body at her touch. Curiously, the moment her fingers curled round his cock, he recalled watching Christine in a fight with a boy from a rival class. Both classes witnessed the destruction of her larger and (in theory) stronger opponent. Nick moaned again as he pictured her throwing the male over her shoulder in the way that she had thrown him some minutes previously. He recalled her acrobatic high kicks, while her hand gave him a thousand different sensations at once. He shuddered with pleasure when she broke off for a few moments, and manipulated his balls. He was in ecstasy! He wanted the heavenly sensation to last forever.

Christine was in the same state. The sexy gymnast was at full-pitch. “Oh, yeah! Oh fuck! Don’t stop! It’s lovely!” She was moaning now, her black hair covering her face, as she had a gigantic orgasm.

“Hmmmmmm …… ooooohhhhhhh …….. oh yesssssssssss!” She wriggled her tiny ass down on his face, almost choking him.

Meanwhile her hypnotic hand was hard, now tender; fast, now slow. Nick was transported in 2 dimensions: the present and Christine’s magical hand, and the past and the day she affected his secret life perhaps forever. He recalled the fact that after watching her beat the young man up, and giving him a mock-curtsy as he lay sobbing, he had not been able to sleep that night. He had lain there shaking, with an erection, trying to rid himself of the image of the young woman throwing, kicking, and punching her way to victory over the male. Yes, he could box himself, but how could she? He became fascinated with her hands, and found himself stealing furtive glances at them in class. They were slender, with long, delicate fingers, and manicured nails which were always painted. How could they punch the way they did? In a sexual trance, he compared what the inside of her fist was doing to his cock now, with what the outside of it did to that young man’s face. The effects were oddly similar! Both would cause ultimate destruction.

He was now groaning, intoxicated with present sensations and past thoughts. Her fingers with her painted nails, gripping his cock; the young man with a horrified look on his face when her first kick landed; her hand cupping his balls again; the young man landing with a crash after her throw; her ever-quickening hand going up and down, the young man in mid-air after her mighty uppercut …

Nick writhed, twisted and grimaced as orgasm engulfed him. Christine stood up and watched him in amusement.

“Well,” she chuckled, pointing at his cock, “He didn’t let you down after all, did he? You must like being dominated by a beautiful woman! Next time I have you helpless on your back I think I’ll return the compliment and suck it. That would be a real … blow for women’s rights, wouldn’t it?”

Nick heard her, but didn’t really take the words in. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he had enjoyed the encounter after all (even being thrown by her, however painful to his shoulder when he landed, had given him a strange excitement). Anyway, he had some recovering to do. He heard the sound of a locker opening, but it didn’t register that she shouldn’t be able to open a locker in the male locker room. It was only when he heard the sound of a cigarette lighter, and caught a waft of smoke that he sat up and took notice. Somehow he knew it would be his locker she had opened.

He looked up at her – how long, shapely and subtly strong her legs appeared from underneath!

“How did you manage to open my locker?” He demanded. She wasn’t going to tell him that a hidden camera had shown her the combination to it, which she had changed, or that it had recorded everything they had just done. He had rich parents, and she saw the chance of blackmailing him.

“Just as places have a master key, this place has a master combination,” she lied.

“Well why didn’t you help me open it ten minutes ago?” He asked, rather sulkily.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”

“Anyway, it’s no smoking in here!”

“Anyway, it’s no smoking in here,” she imitated him scornfully. “What are you going to do about it?”

There was something disturbingly arousing in her challenge. His every instinct told him that women shouldn’t behave like that, so why did he find it so stimulating? He was fascinated by her boldness and her strength, and mesmerized by her gorgeous, tapering legs, her smooth round buttocks, and her abundant bosom.

“I know you’ve always wanted me,” she stated.

Hadn’t he just! Whether watching her in the gym when she worked on gymnastics and self-defence, or seeing her beat up that male student from the other class. Nick gulped as he recalled she had been wearing a skirt when she did that too, looking really ladylike while she reduced the man to tears. Even so, he tried to sound in control.

“That ‘fun’ we had was just foreplay, which you initiated. Now it’s my turn. I’m naked, thanks to you, so take your leotard off.”

Christine laughed and extinguished her cigarette, then approached him, staring into his eyes. He stared back.

“I’m in control now. Understand, boy?”

In his confusion, Nick could only answer “Yes.” She was so unpredictable, and quite unlike all the other girls he had known. In truth she surprised even herself. She had never been this dominant before, but her recent conquest had aroused her as much as it had Nick.

“This doesn’t mean we’re dating or anything, okay?”

“What doesn’t?”

“This.”

She walked up to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. He held her round the waist, pulled her tightly, and kissed back. After a minute of two, she broke off, but didn’t pull away. It was agonising how close their lips were.

“I’m not going to be your girlfriend.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too weak. Women always look for a stronger man.”

“I’m stronger than you!”

“I’m not going to be your girlfriend until you prove it.”

“Fair enough.”

They started kissing again, this time more passionately, both their hearts pounding. Nick still couldn’t understand what was happening or why, but he resolved to go along with it. He loved the feeling of Christine’s body pressed against his, and his hands started to wander. One hand grabbed her ass. It was unbelievably firm. He smacked it gently, and there was just hint of “give”, and a slight wobble. His other hand was on her stomach. He could feel her toned abs.

Christine’s hands were caressing the back of his head and neck. She liked the feeling of his thick hair between her fingers. She started kissing his neck. She loved the feeling of his muscular neck and shoulders; he adored the sensation of her lips on his neck.

As much as she was enjoying making out, the warm feeling inside her grew into an urgent throbbing. She led Nick out of the locker room, towards the gym. At the door, they kissed, before she pushed him inside.

“What are you doing? At least let me get my clothes!”

Saying nothing, Christine pushed him through a second door, into a room with a steel cage in the centre. She locked the door behind them, and told him what she had in mind.

“Let’s go into the cage, and I’ll give you a chance to beat me. If you win, you’ll get your clothes back and, maybe, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“You’re twisted.”

She took hold of his balls, and did just that, looking into his face. “I know, and you’re not going to win, are you Nicky?” She tightened her grip until his face contorted with pain, and he fell on the floor as she let go. “Because I’m a girl, and a better fighter than you.”

“I’ll win! Then I’ll rip your leotard off, and we’ll have proper sex,” he protested, trying to make up for the fact that she was standing over him. “Penetration, the works!”

“Oh, so you want penetration, do you? Ok, you’ll get it!” Smiling evilly, she pointed to a corner of the cage where there was a gym bag. “I’ve got some toys in my bag for you, Nicky. “But first, let’s have a fight. I can’t wait to see you crawling under my feet like a worm, and begging for mercy!”

Nick stood up, and assumed a fighting stance. He was, after all, a good boxer, and he reasoned he ought to be able to beat her. She mirrored his stance, and they began to circle each other.

Yes, he was a good boxer, and he soon had Christine in a lot of trouble. He didn’t muck about with any tentative jabs, but went straight in with an uppercut, following up with a straight left and right. Christine started to fall, and Nick made sure of it, with another straight left.

He grabbed her feet, and then lifted her up. “Humiliate me, would you?” Nick roared, holding her above his head before hurling her to the floor. He followed, trying to pin her on her back. Christine struggled to ward him off, but he gripped her wrists and looked into her eyes.

“That leotard’s coming off in a minute,” he gloated, slavering at the prospect. “And I’m looking forward to seeing those big tits of yours.” He licked his lips at the thought.

“I’m not wearing a bra,” Christine whispered, knowing there was no better way of distracting a man. Nick needed no more invitation. Making sure she couldn’t escape, he placed his knee between her breasts, putting his hand over her mouth in case she screamed, and lowered the zip of her leotard. What a sight, what a glorious sight! There were the most superb breasts he had ever seen, tantalisingly close, and so nearly his to touch! He yammered at the prospect, completely forgetting to hold the skilled fighter in her place. She waited until he was completely intoxicated with the proximity of her splendid womanhood, then pounced: easily evading his hold, she shoved him away from her, and planted a blistering kick on the side of his face, which sent him into an astonished heap.

However he recovered soon enough, and they both struggled to their feet, glaring and snarling like cats, and gripping each other by the right wrist, trying to force one another off balance. Both acknowledged the stalemate, so they tried a different tactic. Christine locked her hands over Nick’s neck and right shoulder, attempting to execute one of her throws. He tried to counter it by grabbing her left side, and the small of her back. Instead his left had found its way to her bottom. Christine smiled to herself, thinking, “All right, my tits started his demise, now let my arse finish it.”

Too late did Nick realise his error. Christine inserted her smooth thigh between his legs (giving him an added disconcerting sensation) to enable her to throw him. He was helpless. She propelled him expertly, combining strength and grace, so that he landed face-down. Now, kneeling to his right, with her left leg poised, she hauled his left arm into an armbar, inching his arm higher and higher until he roared.

“You’ll never see these big tits of mine,” she taunted, pushing her left breast against his forearm, as he yelled in pain. “I’ve had men swoon at them, but not you! Especially my nipples, you know. Men adore my nipples! They’re so sensitive! A man has only to breathe on them, and they grow to four times their size!”

She put him out of that particular misery, and now squatting astride his back, linked her hands beneath his chin and yanked him into a camel clutch. Nick’s back felt as if it was on fire – and in way it was, so inflamed had she made it. But his chest also scorched and blazed with pain. Now her grip changed to a sleeper hold.

“Go to sleep, Nicky,” she purred, “Go to sle-e-e-p, and dream of big tits, long legs, and firm butts! Then dream of your humiliation by a pretty girl,” she sang, crushing her breasts into his shoulders, and her right thigh against his balls, all the while maintaining the grip of her arms around his neck, head, and throat.

Nick passed out. Christine relaxed her hold, and stood up, girlishly his prostrate form. Smiling mysteriously, she walked over to her gym bag with her back to Nick. But he wasn’t finished just yet, and was only out of consciousness for a matter of seconds. He silently got to his feet, intent on revenge.

So engrossed was Christine on what was in her bag, that she was unaware of his stealthy approach. He seized her arms, surprising her, and manhandled her into a headlock, before lifting her into a bodyslam.

After landing painfully, she struggled up, to be met with a glancing right kick. It hurt, but not enough to change the outcome. He now tried with his left foot, and missed. Undeterred, he attempted a punch; but this time Christine side-stepped gracefully out of the way, responding with a vicious two fingers into his eyes. No one can withstand that!

Nick howled, and put both hands up to his face, helpless. Christine had all the time she needed. His legs were dangerously apart, so she was able to kick him easily in the balls. His howl turned into a yelp. He turned away, clutching his manhood, and thinking he was going to be sick. Christine expertly kicked him behind his right knee, and he lost his balance. Just to make sure he didn’t regain it, she planted her foot hard on his balls again. On his way down, she helped him with another kick to the back of his head.

While Nick lay spread-eagled on his front, Christine went to the gym bag again. She found what she wanted, and when she was ready, turned to face Nick, who was recovering to a sitting position.

“No!” He shouted. “You’re depraved!”

“Perhaps,” she volunteered, almost lazily. “It’s the price you’ll pay for your defeat, and anyway you wanted penetrative sex.”

She was wearing an eight-inch, strap-on vibrator, and smirking at him, hands on hips.

“It’s grotesque,” he shouted again, standing up. She just motioned to him to get back down again. “Never!” Nick declared, swinging a punch at her and missing again. Before he came out of its execution, she placed a perfectly-timed kick on his chin, and once again he landed on his back.

“I knew I’d forgotten something!” Christine declared, following up and sitting on him. “I haven’t punched you yet!”

She soon altered that. Her left fist drew tears from Nick. “It’s just like the time I beat up that wimp in the other class,” she chortled, her right fist crashing into his nose. “I noticed you gaping at me. Did you enjoy watching a girl in a leotard defeat a man on his own terms?”

Without waiting for an answer, she woman handled him onto his feet, and then hurled him back down onto his front for his final demise. She stood above him again for a moment, relishing his helplessness.

“’The works’, wasn’t that what you called it?” She sneered, menacingly, “Well you’re going to get ‘the works’ all right! Don’t you dare move, or it’ll be worse for you!” Not that she gave him a chance. She was on his back while he was still nursing his hundredth injury of that day. She positioned herself for the final act in his degradation…

Holding his arms up, she set about abusing him, with the aid of the strap-on vibrator.