This is what Adrian recently experienced. At 18, with no outside responsibilities and distractions, he felt the ire of these young men very keenly. He had lost the last match of the inter-state wrestling under 20’s cup, and possession of that cup had depended on his victory in that match. Overall, his loss was no worse than those of the third and fourth matches. But it doesn’t seem that way when it’s all down to the last match.

He took a miserable late shower after all the others had left. Then, shivering, he went to the locker rooms to dry himself and dress. Only – nothing. The door to them was locked. Yes, that would be his harshest critics among his teammates. But it didn’t matter who had done it. It was winter and he was cold and wet from the shower. The only door he could use was the one out into the street – and he was hardly likely to do that, being naked. Worse, a girl was approaching. She was still in her leotard, so she would want to get into the locker rooms.

Adrian knew her slightly. Alison was perhaps a year of two older than he was, and he had always found her a bit superior and aloof. He wasn’t likely to get much sympathy out of her. Nor did he. She demanded to know why she couldn’t get into the locker rooms, and he explained, while desperately trying to cover himself up.

“I’m going to complain about this,” she told him severely, “but for the moment we need to get help. Go outside and ask to borrow someone’s phone so you can ring the caretaker for a key.”

“I can’t do that!” Adrian protested. “I’m naked. Can’t you go?” he appealed to her. “After all, you do at least have some clothes on.”

“I’m not going out in this,” she replied, firmly. “Firstly, it’s too cold, and it’s your fault we’re in this mess. Secondly, I only wear this for … specific needs.”

“Of course, that’s the reason we all wear our gym clothes. I wear my shorts for working out, and not normally for going out in the street in during winter. But I would if I had to.”

“Yes, well I don’t have to, because you’re going to do it. At the moment, I’m thinking that one of the specific needs for this leotard would be for me to wrestle a stupid, inadequate boy to make him do his duty and get help. So let’s do it, little boy, let’s wrestle. I’m in the mood to dominate a wimp like you and to get him to satisfy my every need.”

“You’re mad!” Adrian answered. “I mean, you can’t wrestle me!” He guffawed with laughter at the idea.

“Oh, you find the idea funny?” Alison asked quizzically, while looking him up and down. “Well, let me tell you, you don’t look so strong to me. We’re of similar height, I keep myself very fit, and I’m quite tough. I fancy my chances against you.”

Looking at her, Adrian believed she had a point, and the idea gave him a slight thrill. She had a striking appearance in her red leotard and thigh-high socks. She had a fabulous figure, curvy, with a narrow waist, long legs and medium-sized breasts. There was an air of subtle, feminine strength about her. Well, you never know, and a grapple with her would at least take his mind off his recent defeat. Alison took his hand and led him to the mats.

“I’m going to put you on your back, little boy,” she told Adrian as they locked up. He didn’t answer. It was disconcerting for him to be up against a woman, especially one as determined as she was. Plus, he could feel her excitement. She was breathing more quickly than is normal, agitating her lovely breasts, which he found maddeningly distracting.

Alison applied a little more pressure; Adrian met it. He pushed a bit harder, and she absorbed it, thanks partly to excellent footwork. That footwork, with her left foot quite well back, enabled her to go on the offensive. Using the firmly toned muscles of her strong legs as the energy behind the strike, she pushed with more force, and felt Adrian begin to “give”.

She nodded with grim satisfaction as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He shook slightly too, and he was the one now breathing quickly. One more push, and he was on one knee with her staring hard into his face.

Adrian collapsed onto his back, and she was on him instantly, sitting on his middle while retaining her firm grip of his hands. He made a valiant but futile effort to prevent her pinning him, but soon she forced his arms down into the surrender position.

“You’ve been overpowered by a woman,” she told him with satisfaction, glaring at him while she schoolgirl pinned him. “How does it feel?”

How did it feel indeed? It was a confusion of feelings. He had that same sensation of excitement that he had when she told him she fancied her chances against him. But he didn’t want to have it. It was wrong, not honourable, not what a man should feel at all. But then, a man wasn’t supposed to be overpowered by a woman, was he?

Smiling for the first time, Alison relished the dominance that the pin gave her. She knew what conflicting thoughts were going through his head. She loved to see a man so troubled – especially when she was the one responsible for it. And all the time her eyes seemed to bore into his. As well as her physical strength and skilled movements, she was top notch at the psychological conflict as well.

She worked his hands up over his head, moved down him a little, so that her bottom rubbed against his naked penis (accidentally, of course) and chuckled at his torments. Then, inserting her feet inside his legs, she turned the hold into a grapevine. Little by little, she began to force his legs apart with her feet and legs. How satisfying it was to hear him yelp!

“Did I hear the crack of bones there?” Alison asked, adoring the mastery she had over him. All the while her feet and legs wrenched his legs closer to the border of what could be borne in pain, while her voluptuous body dug into his. Her nipples, erect from excitement, poked his chest like fingers. When Adrian gave one last desperate, despairing wail, she relented.

Or at least, she changed holds – if sitting on your opponent’s face can be called a hold, that is. For that is what she now did. Still gripping his wrists, she knelt on the floor either side of his head and confronted his face with the threadbare thinness of her leotard material, covering her sex.

“Are you a virgin, Adrian?” she murmured. “Unsure and insecure when it comes to women, are you? Well, this is a good time and place to start learning! That’s right, go to work, sonny!”

She pinned his wrists above his head again, while she engulfed his face intimately. He arched his back beyond where she sat, presumably trying to get out of the near-indecent prison. But he was pointlessly exhausting himself, while she wallowed in self- indulgence. He stopped trying to resist, and she responded by doing a victory pose while still sitting on his face.

“You’re going out in the cold in a minute, aren’t you?” she demanded, pointing at him.

But she was now only kneeling lightly over him. She was a little bit intoxicated with her early success. Adrian saw his opportunity, gave a sudden push with his main body, and dislodged her. She fell backwards, taken unawares. But as he got up on his knees, she grabbed his hair and pushed her knees into his shoulders, trying to ward off his attempt, in turn, to grab her hair in his left hand. Using both hands, she suddenly tugged his same arm through her legs and clamped them round his neck.

By an inspired piece of improvisation, Alison had hauled him into a triangle choke. Pulling his arm with her strong wrists, and pushing his shoulders with her even stronger thighs, she immediately inflicted growing pain on his arm, neck, shoulders, spine and ribs, as she crossed her feet behind him to secure the hold.

Adrian’s head drooped from the pressure of this new hold; but it summed up his mood, too. He had had a brief glimpse of turning the tables on her, only to be drummed back into submission by this very determined young woman, spurred on by anger with herself for losing concentration earlier.

She wasn’t smiling now, or playing psychological games. Gritting her teeth with effort, she heaved his arm while she pushed back with her legs. There was no comment from her this time when she heard another crack from one or two of his bones. Instead, she took it as a sign to change moves. Using those versatile legs of hers, she flipped him onto his back. Lying on her back and locking his neck in the crook of her left leg, she used both hands to drag his right wrist through her legs into an armbar.

She was doing to his right arm what she had done to his left, albeit in a different way. As she inflicted greater pain on him, she noticed that his cock was growing. “It’s a bit early for you to get a defeat boner,” she chided him, prodding his balls hard with her right heel. Sure of herself once more, she found her voice to torment him again. Her smile had returned too, even if it was a rather mean one.

Adrian tried to protect his manhood with his free hand, but Alison’s heel was quite painful on his knuckles, as well as his balls. Even so, she wasn’t going to allow him to do that. She zipped over to his opposite side, pulled his still-weakened left arm and locked it over her right thigh (which was single scissoring his neck) and reached down his body with her left hand. She chuckled, feeling his body go tense at her touch.

“Has a woman ever taken your cock in her hand before, Adrian?” she asked softly. “I love doing it! I love the way he gasps, moans and groans. One man said, ‘Oower!’ and I wanted to shout with laughter! Of course, in wrestling it can defeat a man instantly. All you have to do is include his balls in your grip and squeeze, like THIS!”

Adrian cried out from the dual pains in his cock and his arm, which she was twisting mercilessly over her thigh. But she wasn’t content to leave it there, because she now forced him onto his front, sat on the small of his back, and locked his right leg up over her left shoulder. Then she proceeded to terrorise him by squeezing his balls from behind this time, having swapped the subsidiary left arm for his right leg torment.

Howls, yelps, screams and pleas came from her victim, only briefly interrupted by her bundling him onto his back and kneeling on both his outstretched arms. She pulled his legs through her thighs, securing them, so that his body resembled the letter C. It was like a reverse back breaker, with all the pain centred on his lower back, hips, thighs, and spreading to his ribs and stomach. Plus, inevitably, his balls. Adrian’s exclamations returned with a vengeance as she attacked his balls from behind again.

Alison was ingenious at unconventional holds. No doubt they would disqualify her in a formal wrestling match with a referee, but who said anything about them? In a hold like a Boston crab, she now sat on his shoulders and bent his middle towards her. Instead of hooking his lower legs under her arms, as in the crab, she used her powerful legs to do all the work, trapping his bent over legs. This left her hands free for whatever task she had in mind for them. Quite.

“You bad boy, you’ve gone fully erect!” his evil tormentor teased him, before slamming him face-down on the mat again. This time she sat on his neck while she blindly continued the “work” with her left hand, while pulling his hair with her free hand for good measure.

Alison’s warped variations continued with her curling Adrian into the foetal position. She clamped him down on his left side, rendering that arm useless by kneeling over it, while she locked his right arm within her right thigh and calf muscle. Meanwhile, her left hand never let up with its hideous preoccupation. Because she lay over his near, right leg, he wasn’t able to kick, just in case he thought of counterattack.

But Adrian was now so far gone that Alison found she could give up on any sort of hold, and just punish his balls from behind. She did this almost lazily, distractedly, lying behind him quite comfortably, in the way a person might lie in bed while texting. However, one look at the grim, determined expression on her face told a different story.

That story was that she wasn’t going to be content with this semi-passive kind of dominance for long. Sure enough, she womanhandled him onto his front and lay over his back, crossways. She locked his near, left, hand under her sex while she prolongued the agony with her right hand.

In an echo of a full Nelson, Alison now had Adrian on his right side. Her right leg encased his right arm and head. She locked/twisted his left arm over that same thigh, while securing it under her right arm. This kept her left hand free for what had become an obsession with her opponent’s balls.

Was there no end to her deranged innovations? Over him, under him, beside him, across him, behind him, she always savaged his balls. The peculiar thing is that the various holds she used on the way showed that she understood formal wrestling intimately; she just used it to forward her perverted tactics.

One move that she used, that involved head locking him while lying over him, enabled Adrian to try to free his abused manhood. But she impatiently thrust him away by his face with her left hand, while her right hand didn’t lose a moment from its task.

Again, showing how she knew the wrestling textbook intimately, Alison now used a hold that was a weird interpretation of a crucifix. Lying on her back, she seemed to glue his right arm to the mat. She sandwiched his upper body – shoulders, neck, plus his left arm - between her legs. The odd thing about this hold (with her right hand inevitably at her favourite preoccupation) was that she was smiling after a long stint of glaring and scowling, perhaps sensing that there was no way back for Adrian in this fight.

Opting for two illegal holds in one, Alison used her left knee for a choke on his neck, while her right hand continued with the worst pain Adrian had ever known. As a cruel extra, she plumped her lovely, sexy round bottom down on his right hand while she did it. How he would have loved to give it a squeeze in happier circumstances! He whimpered, partly through lust, partly through agony.

Hearing this, she moved herself round so she could look at his face, while keeping the two holds going. She had her angry look back, like a schoolteacher listening to a dismal excuse for a pupil not doing his homework. Never mind, she had plenty of punishments left.

Talking of which, Alison now knelt on his left arm, and hauled his lower legs towards her. This forced him into an extreme kneel, and to arch his back the “wrong” way, in another nod to a formal backbreaker. But she was always careful to ensure that whatever hold she adopted, one of her hands was always free to perform its primary role. Adrian tried desperately to free himself by pulling her right leg away from him, but a man’s hand vs a woman’s leg equals no contest.

Even so, it was a minor irritation for her (and we can’t have that). From her position over him, it was almost a natural progression for her to lower her nether reasons onto his face. It meant forsaking the backbreaker, but that was more than offset by the prospect of some more lady pleasuring.

Adrian knew what he had to do, as she lowered her head at the same time as her rear end, so she could watch closely the work of her hand. So closely, in fact, that from some of the footage, it appears as if she could have been performing the same favour for him, with mouth and tongue, that he was for her. We’ll never know. Certainly, she didn’t seem to be in any mood to give him a treat; on the other hand, the hint of a treat which is then instantly withdrawn is the mark of a particularly unkind “prick tease”, so it’s not impossible.

Alison gripped his right wrist and ground her sex into his face, lusting after more, more. Then she eased a little, smiling again. But all the time her other hand kept up its monstrous work.

Until, that is, she closed in on a climax. At last she relinquished Adrian’s balls, and knelt directly over his face. At last, too, she allowed him to grip her lovely buttocks with both hands, to enable him to give her deeper satisfaction. She stroked her breast and shivered sensuously. Then she stretched fully and cried out, drugged by sexual stimulation, until the denouement broke over her.

Fully pleasured, Alison victory posed over him, her climax marking his defeat. Then she stood over him and repeated the pose.

“Oh, there’s nothing like a fight to make you horny, is there?” she asked, as Adrian was halfway up. “Okay, out you go to get help.”

He stood up dejectedly, still sporting a huge erection, and turned to go. Laughing, she gave him a kick in the backside to help him on his way. To think that, half an hour previously, he had only been worrying over a lost wrestling match!