Mixed wrestling, 300 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), completely CFNM, no blood.

Gallery 827 features the story of a decadent, bored young man, Robert, who fancies a bit of fetish wrestling, and answers an advertisement for it. Sharon, the working-class girl and professional MMA fighter, who despises bored young men, is booked by the agency to be his opponent. The results are disastrous for him.

The story of Martin and Kathy is, on one level, similar. Martin had a bit of a “thing” about strong girls who knew how to fight; and Kathy liked nothing more than to show spoilt boys like him just how well she could.

Unlike Sharon, Kathy came from a comfortable background. Her parents had paid for her to go to ballet classes, and she took to it very well. Later on, in her teens when she took up self-defence, she discovered how useful a grounding in ballet was. Behind the dainty pirouette and tiptoe lay great strength, gained from years of disciplined work. Similarly, she found the simple traditional playground girls’ games like skipping enhanced your stamina, gave a rhythm to your actions, and enabled you to spring suddenly at an opponent.

If she was good at ballet, she excelled at self-defence, qualifying to teach it when she reached 21. It was then that she discovered certain men had a fetish about women wrestlers. Some of these men were willing to spend good money indulging this fetish, too. So she gave up teaching and became a self-employed session wrestler, in practice just catering for men. Her advertisement read:

“My motto is ‘Seduce and Destroy’. I won’t put you off your food with a display of muscle; I’ll charm you with feminine grace before I ruin you.”

In came the requests! Then in came Martin. He had hesitated a lot before contacting Kathy – what do you say when she answers the phone? She, on the other hand was used to hesitant young men. She was brisk, businesslike and friendly when he found enough courage to call her.

“Hello, good morning, and thank you for calling. Are you a first-time caller? Oh, that’s great! Yes, I offer cfnm session wrestling. Is that what you’re after, you naughty boy?”

The familiarity was all part of the seduction. So was her outfit. Martin found a very attractive young woman, wearing a smart, daring, black leotard. The front was crossed with the material of the leotard, so that a good deal of flesh was on display, in particular over her large breasts. Neat black boots and matching MMA gloves complemented the leotard. She showed Martin into the considerably raised ring, and once they were in it, her manner changed abruptly. The seduction part was over; now for the destruction.

“Stand here,” she told him, pointing at the canvas immediately in front of her. “Come on, we haven’t got all day!”

Martin took a step forward. Immediately, Kathy whipped her arms around his neck and head locked him. Then, pulling him back and downwards, she half-kicked, half-pushed her foot into his left leg, behind the knee. It deadened the leg, he couldn’t support himself on it, and he sank to his knees.

When does a head lock become a choke? When Kathy does it. Kneeling behind Martin, she steadily increased the pressure of her surprisingly strong arms trapping his neck, until she had it stuck in the crook of her left arm, which she fastened shut with her right hand. Pulling them both down onto the canvas, with her underneath him, she swapped arms, but it made no difference to Martin, whose neck was still held fast. Almost absent-mindedly, she crossed her legs over his middle, too.

But she was restless, not content to stick with a single hold for long. Plus, considering the weird pervert (her thoughts) had paid to be professionally wrestled by a woman, she must give him his money’s worth. Bringing him up to his knees, she maintained a grip around his neck, so that it evolved into a sleeper. Certainly, Martin’s eyes were shut!

Kathy sat him down, still with his neck ensnared, while she knelt behind him. After pushing him down on his front, she pulled him back up, while sitting on his middle, still with her arm torturing his neck, now in a dragon sleeper. Just for a bit of sadistic fun, she held his right hand with her right hand, and twisted one of his fingers. He would have yelped if he had been capable of making any sound.

The fact that she had raised his upper body, while sitting on his middle to push the rest of his body back down, put her in mind of a camel clutch. Good idea! It was a simple transition, and in an instant Kathy was hauling him up with her hands under his chin, while the rest of his body couldn’t go anywhere. Martin’s neck was already suffering; now his ribs, spine and stomach began to endure pain too.

In a cruel twist (literally) she now coiled his left arm around his neck, so he was choking himself. Kneeling beside him, all she had to do was steadily increase the pressure, with her right hand gripping his wrist.

But she once more quickly abandoned the hold, to put her victim in a cross face. Lying over and beside him, she heaved his chin up, camel clutch-style, all the while locking his right arm in her thighs. Then, once again head locking him, she joined her hands under his outstretched left arm, locking that as well, while keeping his right arm stuck in her thighs, in a crucifix. In a variation, she lay over him, swapping which arm was held by her thighs and which by her arms. But the hold remained the same, more’s the pity for Martin.

Since Kathy had Martin on his back, she decided it was high time she had a little pleasure. Kneeling astride his head, she snaked her left thigh around his tortured neck and sat on his face. Well, why not? She’d worked hard enough after all. But she wanted more. Kneeling properly now, she pushed herself hard onto his face, urging him to greater efforts. He thought he had best comply, until at last she seemed pleased and content, suddenly relaxing above him and smiling.

Kathy sighed and stood up, surveying the supine man thoughtfully. Well she might, because pleasuring her had given him an enormous erection. This seemed to anger her, and she went over to him, gripped him by the neck and raised him to his knees.

“You dirty bastard!” she shouted at him. “That was about my pleasure, not yours!”

So saying, she slapped him really hard on the face, berating him for his selfishness. Then, using her immense (though subtle) strength, she picked him up by his neck and carried him to the ropes, sitting him on the middle one and continuing to harangue him.

Dropping him on his feet, she opted for a good old-fashioned punch on the jaw, which pushed his head over the top rope. Then she swapped fists and had another go. But it did nothing to calm her anger, or reduce his erection, so she kicked him in the balls. Martin shrieked, and his body arched back, half-out over the middle rope.

Kathy pushed him face-down on the mat, partly over the edge of ring, underneath the bottom rope. He looked down and gulped at the drop. She was so possessed by her rage that he seriously thought he was going to finish off down there, among all the junk and broken glass. But then she changed her mind and dragged his head over the bottom rope, the friction burning his throat. In fact she used it as a weapon, badly scalding his throat so much that he thought he was going to be sick. Lord knew how she’d react if he were!

Perhaps sensing this, she held onto the top rope, placed her legs over the bottom rope, and trapped his neck in a standing/squatting head scissor. It was an effective variation, and she still used the bottom rope to push his throat against it, while constricting his neck as in a conventional head scissor.

Kathy hadn’t used her thighs much so far – keeping her strongest assets in reserve – but now, into the second half, Martin discovered just how powerful they were. Powerful and destructive; but also nimble, as befitted a woman schooled in ballet. This she now demonstrated in a superb piece of improvisation.

Still using that bottom rope to hold Martin in place by his throat, Kathy turned herself round so she faced the opposite direction to him. Then, placing her legs over his shoulders, she resumed the squatting position and heaved his arms over her thighs, twisting them. Raging fires seemed to break out from his shoulders to his fingertips. When she released them, they had no life in them at all.

She released Martin’s arms, but she didn’t release him. Forcing his head under the middle rope, so that he was raised to his knees, Kathy shoved her right knee into the mid-section of his back. Then she stood him upside down, grabbed his feet, and bent his legs around her legs, in the same way she had his arms. For good measure, she stepped on his chin as well. The fires that had seemed to engulf his arms now tore along his feet, up his shins, and into his thighs.

Kathy didn’t seem to believe in doing much in the middle of the ring. No, she had her victim on, under and between the ropes, and she meant to keep him there. Placing Martin on his feet, facing the middle of the ring, she bent him back between the middle and bottom rope and put him in a standing head scissor. Once again, her dancing experience paid off, because she had to stand outside the ropes to do this, on the ledge overlooking the drop. Most people not sure of themselves on their feet would have shunned such a risk.

It's doubtful if Martin was even aware of her precarious position, so engulfed as he was in pain. He was stretched at a grotesque, unnatural angle from his toes to his head. Kathy was doing to him what medieval torturers did to their prisoners, except they needed devilish contraptions to be invented for them.

She maintained both the scissor and Martin’s agonising position, but turned round, facing down his body. This gave her the bonus of being able to sit on his face. Holding onto the middle rope with her right hand, she sent her left hand down his body as far as his manhood. Still seeming to disapprove of his erection (even if he had paid her good money for a fetish fight) she took his balls in her hand and squeezed. Just when he had thought his ordeal couldn’t get any worse!

Kathy made Martin once again go to work with his tongue, in the hope that if he did a good job she would go easy on his balls. Perhaps the hope was justified, because she seemed to think better of it. Turning back round, she bent Martin back even further so that he was on his knees, but with his head pointing at a right angle behind them. She squatted over his face. Standing inside the ropes now, she gripped the top and middle ones hard, with each movement of his tongue.

Once again, she hungrily pushed her sex down on his mouth. With both hands clenching the middle rope, she hooked her legs over the bottom one and forced herself firmly over his face. Martin had to support himself with his hands on the mat, while his legs shook with the strain of their perverse, painful position. He worked away, seemingly for his own survival, and with the hope that his ordeal would soon be over.

In one way, he got that wish. So fixated was Kathy on her sexual pleasure that she relaxed the hold, so he could focus on pleasing her. He now sat on the canvas in relative comfort, albeit half outside the ropes. She sat on the lowest rope, with both hands on the back of his head, pushing his face harder and harder against her sex.

But it didn’t last. Seeming to remember that they were supposed to be wrestling, she stood up, outside the ropes, taking him with her by his neck in her thighs. With her feet on the edge of the ring, she held onto the top rope with both hands. The standing head scissor she imposed on Martin jammed his chest against the middle rope while his feet hopped desperately about, struggling to keep pace to support him.

Still seemingly affronted by the fact that he had an erection (although it could have been roleplay), Kathy now squatted over the bottom rope and stood the unfortunate Martin on his hands, outside the ropes. She heaved his legs back over the top rope, so his body was stretched in the same unnatural position, with his stomach pushed forward, but his legs pulled backwards, that it had been throughout much of the fight. Once she had him settled in this state, she turned her attention to his manhood.

She handled his cock and balls roughly – no feminine teasing or tenderness at all – and he came within seconds. When she let go of him altogether, he had a panic-stricken moment, still standing on his hands just above the drop. Kathy merely helped him on his way with a kick in the back, and his earlier dread of falling off the edge of the ring was realised.

She watched him fall, turned round and celebrated, then left to take the cash he had paid her to the bank.