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Following his loss to Kitty (Gallery 774), Steve rather sheepishly left the arena and walked towards the entrance. He had been told Katlin the referee’s girlfriend was waiting for him with his shorts. Kitty had worked them off him during their match, and he felt vulnerable without them. Especially as there were so many women about. Thank God, there she was!
But her phone went just as Steve caught up with her. When she ended the call, she explained that Katlin told her he was wanted back at the mat. Poor Steve had had enough. Kitty had defeated him, yes, by skilled use of wrestling holds, but also with the unorthodox method of grabbing a naked man’s balls. He had endured enough for one day, so he told this rather insolent girl, smirking down at him from her superior height, that he was “done” there. He just wanted his shorts, and he would leave.
Then he discovered the reason for her smirk. Kitty had torn the elastic and he had to hold them up. He complained, but the girl replied that it wasn’t her problem. The XXL recruiter had been watching the match, she explained, and she wanted to see more. If he fought again, she would pay him double for his previous match, and triple for this one.
Oh well, that was different then! Steve told her he could find his own way back - just follow those lovely 4 dancing girls who were on their way there. But she grabbed his arm, with a surprisingly strong grip (what did the girls there eat, for heaven’s sake?) and told him she had been tasked with bringing him there.
“Having trouble with your pants, Stevie?” Kitty greeted him.
“You should know,” replied Steve, “You ripped them.”
But Katlin was keen for the fight to start, reminding them that they only had the space booked for 30 minutes, and she commanded them to wrestle. As they faced off, Steve was momentarily distracted by the 4 dancing girls, all looking their way. It seemed as if they were only there ostensibly to practice dancing, and that their real aim was to watch the free show that Steve and Kitty were going to provide.
For the first time, Steve had the disconcerting thought that this whole set up could be about taking the piss out of him. Was the XXL recruiter even real, or was it a joke at his expense because he was overweight? Then again, he was well into middle age, and though strong and a seasoned wrestler, he understood better than most that he wasn’t as fast as he used to be.
To confirm that last thought, Kitty took him by surprise. She launched herself at him, spearing him and grabbing him by the hips (with her thumbs hooking themselves inside the waistband of his shorts). The momentum of her jump had them both over, and his shorts off - did he hear some girlish sniggering?
Steve’s experience paid off, though, and he successfully resisted Kitty’s attempts at a head scissor. But – again – his relative slowness proved to be a major handicap, and she put him on his back before he could react, with her left knee trapping his left arm and her right knee choking him. For good measure, she seized his right arm and twisted it, while clawing his face with her free hand. Get out of that one, Steve!
But Kitty was there to show off. Why win with a single hold, when you can demonstrate your skills with several? She was off him in an instant, forced him onto his front, and held his ankles. Standing up, she was able to lock both his legs, while placing great strain on his chest, spine and stomach in the same way as a camel clutch.
Kitty’s second attempt at a head scissor (standing, this time) didn’t come off though, and Steve was able to use his greater strength and weight to rock her down off her perch. Forcing her onto her front, he sat on the small of her back, and trapped both her ankles in the crook of his left arm, in a variation of a Boston crab. Turning round, he maintained the hold, putting her in a reverse crab, and opted to use both his arms to trap her legs, placing strain on exactly the same body parts as she had inflicted on him.
Those 4 dancing girls seemed to be making a lot of noise – damn! Fatally distracted as he was, Kitty got him in a head scissor at her third attempt. Lying on her side, and facing in the opposite direction, she hooked her legs over his neck, seized his near arm by the wrist, and attacked his balls with her right hand. She squeezed, pummelled and crunched his naked balls together, making him howl in pain. Yes, those dancing girls were obviously laughing now.
When she thought she had weakened Steve enough, Kitty took advantage of his temporary defencelessness to bundle him over so that he was kneeling on the mat and lying over his legs. With his backside dangerously exposed, he looked like a plucked chicken, just before it gets sage and onion stuffing shoved inside it. (If there had been an onion to hand, it wouldn’t have been beyond Kitty to do just that – that would have set the dancing girls off laughing all right!)
She gripped his ankles, and lay over him, banging his head on the mat. But she spent too much time mocking him over his banged head, allowing him to recover partially, and there followed a confusing grapple for dominance. Whether it was luck of design, Kitty managed to get hold of his left hand, and locked one of his fingers. Hearing him cry out gave her an idea, and she reached for his ever-reliable balls to disable him.
Only the back of Steve’s head and neck lay on the canvas, as she hauled the helpless man up into the air, while her hand wrought havoc on his balls from behind and underneath. However, she failed to think about all that weight of Steve, facing upwards the wrong way. It had to come down sooner or later, and when it did it fell face down smack onto her. It was easy for him to use his far greater body mass to pin Kitty. Seizing her wrists, he clamped her to the mat, and glared into her eyes. (Well he might, after what she had put him through.)
But he didn’t allow for the danger and adaptability of a woman wrestler’s legs, and Kitty was able to lock her thighs around his waist in a body scissor. Steve struggled to free himself of it; Kitty suddenly released him so that he fell backwards. Like a cat, she was on him instantly, once again grabbing him by the balls. On his back, Steve desperately pawed at her, trying to prize her away from his balls, which she held in excruciating manipulation.
Once again, she had rendered him temporarily helpless, so she was able to kneel behind him and wrench his left arm behind him, locking it in the crook of her left arm. When he cried out, she let go and showed him how to do a conventional Boston crab. Sitting on the small of his back and facing away from him, she bent his legs the “wrong” way and locked them in her arms, in the tried and tested way. Soon, Steve’s chest, neck, spine, stomach and legs felt as if they were on fire.
But he had learnt that she relinquished a hold once he cried out. So he did it deliberately this time. Sure enough she eased off, and he surprised her. He seized her by the neck, then headlocked her, flipping her over in a reverse somersault onto her back, beside him.
But Kitty turned the momentum to her advantage. One of these advantages she had over Steve was speedy improvisation. It was easy enough to double flip, and she ended up on top of him. Hooking her legs around his waist again and grabbing his wrists above his head, she secured him in a grapevine. Her ample breasts swung with her quickened breathing, barely a foot away from Steve’s eyes, and he found himself wishing he was a young man again.
On the other hand, he couldn’t ignore the damage her strong thighs were doing to his stomach and abdomen, as they squeezed ever harder. This time his cry was genuine – but when Kitty let go, he was ready. Not for the first time, he surprised her by moving swiftly before she could form another hold on him. Kneeling behind her he snatched her left leg and twisted it behind her, so that her foot touched her head. It was a good job her legs were so versatile!
It was her turn to cry out, and Steve duly took his cue from her. Letting go of her leg, he instantly spun her over, bumping her head on the canvas in a rather gentle piledriver. (Gentle because he was sitting behind her, so her head landed with no great force.) On the other hand, she couldn’t sustain being upside down for long. There was only one thing to do – reach for those balls again.
Steve yelled. In one brief action Kitty rendered him helpless again. She lay underneath, but with one thigh over him, crossways, and sadistically kneaded, groped and squeezed, including his cock in the assault this time.
When she judged she had weakened him enough, she kept him trapped in her thighs, but hauled his right arm behind him, locking it. While she did this, she also forced his body down by the neck with her left thigh, all the time pulling him back by his arm. Something would have to give soon. No one could withstand this sort of twin pressure for long, and Steve eventually shouted in pain when he could take no more.
That’s all very well, but it meant that Kitty merely swapped one painful hold for another, this time a cavernaria. Placing herself underneath her victim, and balancing on her toes, she pushed her knees into the small of his back, while heaving him backwards by her hands under his chin. It had the same effect on his upper body of an upside-down camel clutch. It would be easier to name the parts of his upper body that weren’t severely affected by it – namely his arms and shoulders. The rest felt – again – felt as if they were on fire.
But then it was back to his balls, firstly from behind, then from a complex manoeuvre that comprised both head scissor and armbar – three holds for the price of one.
Perhaps realising this was a bit ambitious, she then opted for a head scissor, pure and simple. She had him on all fours, and sandwiched his neck in her upper thighs, with his face held fast against her sex. Then she lay across him, while keeping the scissor going, and with his face still “up against it”, as it were, so he struggled to breathe.
Keen to extract the maximum advantages out of one hold, Kitty next lay on her back, and crossed her legs over Steve’s neck. This had the advantage of twisting his neck uncomfortably as well as scissoring him. After that, it was sideways on, with him resembling a plucked chicken once more, and looking pretty ungainly with his backside pointing in the air.
Every way she went. Steve, accomplished wrestler that he was, couldn’t believe there were so many variations of one particular hold. She obviously enjoyed head scissoring, he thought grimly. Asserting her dominance now, Kitty, on her back, pulled with her powerful thighs and brought the scissored, hapless male within inches of her face, so she could glare into his eyes. That made the psychological match one-all.
But she seemed to get bored with the same position after about a minute, and she was forever shifting. Steve found himself on his front, on his side, on his back, trussed up, eyes front, eyes side; always with his neck trapped in that feminine prison.
Hello, the dancing girls were back. Had they gone away, Steve wondered, when the bout was going to his advantage, and had they come back to enjoy his discomfort? Or was he being paranoid? Certainly, as Kitty now pulled him towards her again so that their noses touched, they had much to entertain them.
Not for the first time, she surprised Steve by at last relinquishing the head scissor – and swapping it for a body scissor. Lying first to his side, and then underneath him, she tormented his sore neck, so that the hold came to resemble a black widow.
Katlin came in close – it couldn’t be to ensure fair play, Steve thought bitterly. But Kitty seemed to take it as some sort of signal, and swapped holds. It was back to the head scissor again. Lying crossways on, she locked his left arm for good measure, before once again just concentrating on the scissor (which was bad enough, if you asked Steve).
This way, she had Steve first on his front, and then on his back. Now Katlin was even closer. She was so close, in fact, that the unconventional referee was on her knees and leaning over him, with her right hand on his upper thigh. He jumped when it moved to his cock. She began to exert pressure on it, then told him that the bout had gone on for 25 minutes. Could he last another 5 minutes, or did he submit?
He had no hesitation: “I give up! Get me out of this. Please!”
Still grasping his cock, Katlin instructed Kitty to release him, because she had won.
When Katlin held Kitty’s arm up in the traditional victory ceremony (which was about the only thing with her that was traditional), Steve had a “Groundhog Day moment”. While he clutched his wounded manhood, she told him that her girlfriend was waiting for him at the front entrance with his shorts. “Hurry up,” she told him, because she couldn’t keep doing that all day. As if it was his fault! As the bout had only lasted 25 minutes, he probably wouldn’t be paid either. And all the time those dancing girls were sniggering.