Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Sienna vs. Mark

Story by mpupdog
Mark strode into his bedroom wearing only a towel around his waist, having
just finished a shower. It was a Saturday morning and the strong teenager
was on top of the world. A senior in high school, a good student, popular with
the girls, and, as of two weeks ago, an experienced no-holds-barred
underground wrestler. His family had gone up against another family in all-
out combat, and although his family had lost (mainly due to his father's
inexplicable defeat at the hands of a smaller woman), he himself had been
victorious. Not merely victorious; he had thoroughly beaten and humiliated
his opponent, Larry.

Striding to the mirror over his dresser, Mark admired his body. He was lean
and strong. In his mind he looked like Tarzan must have looked as a

Suddenly another face appeared in the mirror behind him. He jumped and
started to turn around, but hands on his shoulders and a voice in his ear
stopped him.

"Hello, Mark," whispered the sultry voice. It was Sienna, the woman who had
beaten his father and put him in the hospital!

"What are you doing here?" Mark demanded.

"I came to see you," the older woman purred. Looking at her reflection in the
mirror, Mark was struck by Sienna's beauty. She was well made-up, with
eyeliner, eyeshadow, and sensuous crimson lipstick. Her long fingernails,
which she was dragging softly over Mark's chest and shoulders, were recently
manicured and matched her crimson lips. Sienna watched Mark's expression
change from one of aggression to one of admiration and attraction.

"Like what you see?" she asked. "I made myself up before I came to see you.
Just for you."

"But…why are you here?" Mark asked. "Aren't you mad at what I did to your
son?" Mark was referring to the beating and humiliation he had given Larry,
Sienna's son.

"As a matter of fact, I am. It hurt to see you do those things to poor Larry.
Then again, I admired your strength and skill. I imagine you wouldn't have
been so easy to beat. You seem so strong."

Mark blushed at the compliment. "Well…" he said, looking down shyly.
Quickly, though, he snapped back to wariness. "Why are you here?" he
demanded again.

Sienna smiled confidently. She traced her long fingernails over one of Mark's
ears as she spoke into the other. They stared at each other in the mirror as
she talked. "There was one thing about the tournament that still bothers me.
Not what you did to Larry. It's something I heard that you said when I was
fighting your father. Do you remember? I heard that you couldn't believe that
a `girl' was beating up your dad. Do you remember saying that?" Mark
nodded. "Well, honey, I'm not a girl. I'm a woman. And I came here to teach
you the difference. I came here to show you just how easily a woman can
beat and humiliate a man. Or, in your case, a boy. So how about it, stud?
Want to wrestle?"

Mark's thoughts shifted quickly from confusion to lust to anger to vengeance,
and back again, and again. He was motionless, staring at this woman in the
mirror, this beautiful woman whose chin rested on his shoulder, who had just
challenged him to a fight.

"What's the matter, little boy?" Sienna cooed. "Afraid?"

"Let's go, bitch."

Sienna stepped back and smiled. Mark whirled around. "I believe the rest of
your family is out of the rest of the day, so we'll have privacy." Mark nodded.
"And I believe that you have a wrestling space set up in your basement."
Again, Mark nodded. Sienna snapped her bare right foot forward, so quickly
Mark never saw it coming, and dropped the teenager to his knees with the
kick to his crotch. "I'll see you down there in five minutes. You don't need
bother putting on clothes; I'm going to strip you when I win, anyway." She
chuckled as she left the room, leaving Mark on his knees, holding his groin.


When Mark entered his family's basement wrestling arena fifteen minutes
later, he felt ready. Not only had he had put a protective cup inside his
Speedos in case the bitch tried any more cheap shots, but he had also
psyched himself up. He wasn't hoping to simply defeat this woman, more
than twice his age. Instead, he intended to humiliate her thoroughly. He
would wipe the makeup off her face, mess up her pretty manicure, and bruise
her perfect skin. He'd make her regret ever trying to compete with a real man.
Regardless of what she'd been able to do to his father, Mark planned to teach
this woman that her place was not in combat.

As Mark walked in he saw Sienna waiting on the other side of the large room.
The space was devoted to wrestling and training. A wrestling mat covered the
entire area. A floor-to-ceiling mirror, the kind often found in dance studios,
the entire length of one wall. His family used it to be able to see moves when
they were practicing.

Sienna wore a crimson bikini that didn't leave much of her figure to Mark's
imagination. While she certainly seemed physically fit, she looked more like a
woman than a wrestler. Basically thin, she had a curvy form, with typically
wide female hips and natural breasts that would have sagged with age if not
for the tight bikini.

Seeing that Mark was gawking, Sienna smiled and did a girlish pose. "Like
what you see?" she asked, coquettishly, as she had done in his room.

Realizing that he couldn't let himself get caught up in his lust, Mark ignored
her question. "What are the rules?" he asked.

Sienna smiled at his seriousness. "Why do we need rules?" she asked. "We
don't have a referee, anyway. How about we just wrestle and fight? We'll
keep going as long as one or another of us feels like it. Eventually it will be
clear that one of us is the winner, don't you think?"

Mark pondered this. Rules would favor him, since he was bigger and
stronger. But she had a point: without a referee, rules were useless. "Ok," he
said. "Let's go."

He approached her cautiously, remembering the mistake his father had made
by being too aggressive against her. Sienna seemed to expect him to make
the first move, so he stood his ground several feet away, cautious but
controlled, intent on waiting her out. She tried to taunt him into making a
move, but he ignored her insults and trash talk in spite of his youth. Finally
was Sienna who made a move. She feinted toward his left and then launched
a powerful spinning kick toward his right side.

Mark was ready for her attack, though, and he blocked her kick with his arm
and shoulder. In doing so, he was able to throw her off balance and he sent
her crashing to the mat. Rather than pressing his advantage, he backed up
and let her regain her feet. She was miffed that her first attack was
unsuccessful, while he allowed himself to grin slightly.

They circled each other warily. Again, Sienna tried an attack, this time going
for Mark's legs. But again Mark anticipated her maneuver. As the woman
dove toward his knees he sprawled backward, keeping out of her reach, while
grabbing her around the waist with both his arms. She scrambled to escape,
but he overpowered her and rose to his feet, holding the woman upside
down. She kicked furiously with her arms and legs. Laughing at the ease
with which he had seized her, he dropped her unceremoniously unto the mat.
This could have ended the match quickly if she'd landed on her head.
Fortunately for her, she managed to twist her head to the side and land on her
shoulder; while the blow was still painful, she avoided serious injury.

"Is that the best you've got, old woman?" taunted Mark. Sienna groaned and
rubbed her shoulder, worried that it might have been dislocated. Mark circled
behind her as she sat on the mat and pushed her forward, so that she was
face down underneath him. Planting one knee on her injured shoulder, he
reached back and grabbed one of her ankles, which she was kicking
frantically, and then the other. Crossing her ankles and forcing them onto her
butt, Mark sat on her legs. Sienna screamed. Mark jerked her arms behind
her and pulled. She was completely in his mercy.

"Sorry you came over here?" he asked. "Huh? I can't hear you!"

"You'll regret this, little boy!" gasped Sienna in between grunts of pain.

"You're the one who should have regrets," snapped Mark. "Do you give up?"

"You will never make me give up, wimp," said the older woman.

Mark couldn't believe that this woman could refuse to surrender. He knew
she was in intense pain. At that moment he felt conflicting emotions: his
feeling of power and domination was tempered by his admiration for her
toughness. This admiration soon began to fade into worry as the older
woman not only refused to submit but actually began to taunt him from her
position beneath him.

"Enjoy it now, little boy," she gasped. "Soon I'll be doing this to you, but

"I'm real scared, bitch," said the teenager sarcastically.

"Your dad was cocky, too," Sienna spat. "But if you remember, I nearly killed

Mark bounced on her small, helpless body in anger. The memory of this
woman's humiliation of his father incensed him. He poured on the pressure,
determined to make this woman beg him for mercy. Although she grunted
and moaned in pain, she continued her trash talk.

"You think you're strong, wimp?" she said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to
break you. I'm going to make you eat your own sperm."

"Bitch!" Mark screamed. Losing control of his temper, he released her wrists
and began smacking her across the back of her head. Quickly Sienna
reached back with her left arm and grabbed Mark's head. Although he had
the dominant position, he was caught off guard and before he realized it, the
woman had wrapped her thin arm around his neck and pulled him forward.

Sienna still lay on her stomach, and her ankles were still crossed and pinned
behind her by the larger teenage boy, who still held her down with his body
weight. But now he was struggling to try to recapture her right arm, which she
was managing to keep out of his grasp, as well as trying to pull his head from
the grasp of her left arm. Sienna was thin but her wiry arm had surprising
strength, and she was able to keep his head subdued. She had forced his
forehead to the mat beside her own; his right ear was rubbing her left ear, and
her left bicep dug into his neck. Mark could hear her grunting and straining to
maintain the hold.

Despite his size and strength advantage, he couldn't easily break free from
her grasp. Finally he used both his arms to pry her left wrist from around the
back of his neck. But in concentrating all his effort on this one task, he had
the older woman have an opportunity for escape and she capitalized. Before
he knew it she had wriggled out from underneath him, somehow twisting her
captive legs from their prison.

Sienna scurried away like a crab, leaving Mark on his knees, panting and
wondering what had happened.

"First I'm going to beat you senseless," said Sienna. Mark looked up and saw
the woman circling him gingerly. She was massaging her shoulders and
shaking her legs, trying to get the circulation back in her extremities.

"It looks like you're nearly finished, bitch," he countered, trying to put on a
cocky attitude.

Sienna ignored him and continued. "Then I'm going to humiliate you. Maybe
you'll be conscious, maybe not. You might wake up in a hospital. You might
not wake up at all." With this she grinned and licked her lips.

"Are you trying to scare me?" he asked. The two were stalking each other
now, circling each other carefully, looking for an opening to attack.

"I could have killed your father, you know. At a few points I bet he wished
I would have. Tell me, Marky, how did it feel to watch a woman hold your
father helpless and force him to piss all over himself?"

Mark screamed in anger and charged Sienna, which was, of course, exactly
what she wanted. Rather than sidestepping him or trying to flip him with a
judo move, Sienna let Mark tackle her backward onto the mat. But in doing
so, she was careful to wrap her legs around his torso so that when they
landed she was able to lock her ankles behind his back. Before he could
grab her wrists, Sienna had wrapped both her arms around the teenager's
head and pulled his face into her bosom. Her slim arms cut into the sides of
his neck. Although he was on top of her, she was in control of the situation
because she had wrapped her arms and legs around him like an octopus.

Mark tried to pull away but he was stuck. Sienna giggled as she began to
pulse her legs rhythmically, each squeeze of her legs causing Mark to grunt
and gasp for breath. His face was trapped between her sweaty breasts; he
turned to the side to try to suck in some oxygen but found this position only
slightly better because now her thin, sweaty bicep rested across his mouth.

"What's the matter, honey? Is the mean old woman hurting the big strong
boy?" Sienna's laughter filled the room. Mark reached back and tried to pry
the woman's arms from around his head. Unsuccessful, he changed tactics
and went on the offensive. First he tried punching her sides, then he tried
clawing her face and pulling her hair. His efforts were somewhat effective: he
at least caused her to curse at him. However, he couldn't mount enough of an
attack to make her release either her leg scissors or her grasp on his head.
Instead, Sienna increased the intensity of her grip. For a small woman she
had surprising strength, and within minutes Mark's body was feeling the
effects of her squeezing.

Tired, Mark dropped his arms to the mat and focused his energy on simply
trying to breathe. Sienna realized his strength was fading and she
consolidated her position by grasping his right arm and twisting it behind his
back in a hammerlock while still holding his head captive with one arm. He
struggled ineffectively but couldn't prevent her from doing this. Although the
heavier boy's weight now pressed full down upon her, she was completely in
control. Sienna blew into his ear seductively while she pulsed her legs and
jerked his arm in a steady rhythm.

"Please," he whimpered.

She laughed. "Please, what? Do you give up already?"

Mark hadn't realized that he'd said the word "please" out loud, and he was
quite furious to have let himself get into this situation. At once he regained
wits and his anger.

"No way, bitch!" he snapped.

Sienna laughed again. "If anyone's a bitch, it's you, honey. You're my bitch,
aren't you?"

Mark didn't answer but instead struggled with renewed vigor.

Suddenly the woman released her grip on the boy and rolled him off her. As
he let his lungs fill for the first time in several minutes she stood up and
walked about the room nonchalantly. Mark was on all fours, taking in breaths
slowly, wondering if any of his ribs were injured by the woman's body
scissors. Just when he realized that he didn't know where she was, Sienna
grasped him from behind in a sleeperhold.

Mark sprang to attention and tried to break free but the petite woman had her
arms locked tightly around his neck in the deadly hold. He rose to his feet,
hoping to back her up into a wall and knock her free, but he had been
weakened so much that she was able instead to push him forward and force
him to his knees a few feet away from the mirror.

"Look at this," she whispered into his ear. "What a pretty picture we are! A
big, strong boy getting his ass kicked by a woman his mother's age!" Mark
pulled desperately at Sienna's arm but couldn't pry it loose. He watched the
reflection in the mirror in helpless shame as she snaked her tongue out and
probed his ear. He thrashed violently but standing over him she had all the
leverage. "Are you getting sleepy yet, little boy?" she taunted. And indeed,
Mark's vision was starting to narrow as the woman was cutting off the flow of
blood to his brain.

Just as Mark's arms started to drop to his side, Sienna released the hold.
Mark's face hit the mat hard and jolted him back to his senses. He lay on the
mat, resting, waiting to get his energy back, when the woman put her slim
bare foot inches from his face.

"Lick it," she said. "Lick it nicely and maybe I'll have mercy on you." The
laughter in her voice infuriated him.

"Fuck you, bitch," he mumbled.

"Aw, you shouldn't have said that, honey. Didn't anybody ever teach you to
treat women with respect?"

Mark felt her hands on his hair pulling him upright. Sienna yanked him into a
sitting position facing the mirror. The boy couldn't resist as the woman
stepped over him so that her crotch was on the back of his neck and her feet
were planted between his legs. Her thin thighs pressed against either side of
his head. He reached up and put his hand on her knees to pull them apart,
but she seized both his wrists in her slender hands and pulled his arms out to
the side and then jerked them up. He shrieked in pain and tried to break free
but, much to his embarrassment, once again he found that he could not
escape the woman's clutches. Mark looked into the mirror and saw his
pathetic situation: Sienna was wrenching his outstretched arms upward,
forcing his legs painfully outward, and squeezing his head with her thighs.
She caught his eye in the mirror and laughed at him as he realized his

The pain became unbearable. "Let me go! Let me go!" Mark screamed. But
Sienna kept jerking his arms and forcing his legs wider.

"You should have licked my toes," she giggled. "There's no giving up now."

Mark pleaded for mercy that wasn't coming. The pain was intense, but almost
as bad was the frustration of being unable to break free from the smaller,
weaker woman.

Eventually the boy stopped struggling and simply hung limply as the woman
tortured his body. Realizing his condition, Sienna released her grip on his
wrists and let his arms drop to his sides. She then stepped over his head and
allowed him to slide to the floor, dazed and near unconsciousness.

For several minutes Mark lay on his side, panting. His eyes were open but he
wasn't focused on anything in particular. He was dimly aware that the woman
was walking around the room doing something, and he was aware that his
arms, neck, and legs were all in great pain.

Mark felt something around his waist, then his crotch. He looked down and
realized that Sienna was removing his Speedo. He kicked at her ineffectually.
She laughed as she threw his cup and speedo to the side.

"Look, Marky! I didn't want your mommy and daddy to miss all the fun so I set
up a video camera." Sienna was standing over him and pointing.

Mark turned slowly in the direction she indicated. A video camera sat on a
tripod ten feet away. He made out the red light that indicated the camera was
currently taping. Comprehension hit him: he was naked obviously beaten,
lying at the feet of this woman, all on camera.

Mustering all his energy he sprang up and lunged toward the camera.
Sienna tackled him. As he rose again she yanked his head down by the hair
and sank a knee into his gut. He dropped to all fours. She drove a knee into
his side and he fell back to the mat, groaning.

"That looked really nice on camera, I bet," said Sienna. "Why don't you try
again so we can get more action for your parents. Maybe for your girlfriends
at school, too."

Mark roared and knocked the woman to the mat. She slipped out of his grasp
and sprang to her feet and waited for him to do the same. Sienna was
thoroughly enjoying herself now. Mark thought he had a chance but he was
so weakened she could simply toy with him for as long as she liked. She
loved the desperation and anger in his eyes.

"Come on, little boy," she said in a little girl voice. She held out her hands,
palms forward and fingers spread, in an invitation to a test of strength. "Why
don't you show your mom and dad and all your girlfriends that you're stronger
than a woman twice your age?"

The teenager felt a surge of hope. Sienna was giving him a chance to
reassert himself. Did she really think she could overpower him in a test of
strength? Even after the beating he had endured, he knew he was much
stronger than a 37 year old, 115 pound woman. Without hesitation he locked
fingers with her, his confidence restored.

The two combatants pressed forward, their eyes locked together as well as
their fingers. Both were sure of themselves. On camera the image was
almost laughable: a nude teenage boy, muscular and athletic, engaged in a
test of strength with a petite woman in a bikini.

Amazingly, Mark did not immediately force the older, smaller woman to her
knees. He did not immediately bend her wrists backward. For ten or fifteen
seconds the two were deadlocked. Then, as Mark's strength began to tip the
struggle in his favor, she began to dig her crimson nails into the backs of his
hands. The pain was just enough for him to lose his concentration. In that
split second, Sienna rotated her hands downward so that their knuckles faced
toward the floor, and in so doing she was able to bend Mark's wrists
backward. He gasped in pain and rose to his tiptoes, trying to relieve the
pressure. Just as quickly, Sienna rotated their hands upward again. Now
Mark dropped to his knees and screamed. His wrists were bent all the way
back; Sienna was forcing his hands so far backward they were nearly
touching his shoulders. He tried to release the grip but her long, thin fingers
were like claws holding him captive.

On his knees, Mark's face was inches from her bikini-covered crotch. He
couldn't believe she had been able to overpower him. Less than half an hour
ago he had held her on her stomach, her legs folded behind her, both her
arms behind his back, and thought her as weak and helpless as a kitten. But
it was he who was helpless. Mark looked up, past her sweaty breasts, and
saw her grinning sadistically down at him. Her lips were shining and her eyes
were filled with bloodlust. He was afraid.

"Please let me go," he whimpered.

Sienna laughed, a long, feminine, wicked laugh, and finally released Mark's
hands. He fell forward, his face brushing down her sweat-soaked bikini
bottom as he fell, and massaged his injured hands. The woman stood over
him, her painted toenails inches from his face. "Too bad you wouldn't lick my
feet earlier, hon," she said.

Then she took a step backward, drew her right leg back, and kicked him in the
throat with her bare foot. Mark flipped over and clutched his throat. She
stomped him in the ribs and on his solar plexus. He tried to curl into a ball,
but she sat on his chest, facing toward his feet, and began driving her long
crimson nails into the flesh on his stomach. She clawed his stomach as he
screamed and kicked his legs frantically, to no avail.

Laughing, Sienna paused in her torture of the teen to talk to the camera.
Scooting backward slightly so that her butt rested on his mouth and nose,
Sienna carelessly twisted his nipples with her nails as she spoke. "Hi, Sam.
Hi, Sara. Like what you see? I'm sure you're proud of junior here. He put up
a good fight for, oh, three or four minutes. More than I can say for you,
Sammy." She blew the camera kiss. "Sara, honey, how did you marry such a
wimp? And how in the world did you raise such a sissy? Oh…and in case
any of Marky's little girlfriends are watching, let's see what a man he is, OK?
Watch carefully!"

Sienna leaned forward and began stroking Mark's penis. Soon he was erect
despite himself. He kicked his legs feebly in protest and tried to roll the
woman off his face, but Sienna had him pinned too well. As his penis became
harder and harder, Sienna began dragging her fingernails up and down
along the length of the shaft, alternating gentle tickling with painful
The effect was to make him incredibly hard, so that his whole body quivered
with anticipation. Just when he was obviously about to climax, Sienna quickly
climbed off him and scooted toward his feet. Grabbing his ankles, she forced
his legs over his head so that his butt was up in the air and his erection
pointed toward his face. She stood over him, pushing down on his legs to
keep him folded painfully in half.

Holding him in this painful position, Sienna again looked at the camera. "Are
you watching, girls?" she asked. With one hand Sienna kept Mark in position
by pushing his right leg knee toward his shoulder, while with her other hand
she roughly jerked his penis. "No!" Mark begged, but Sienna had no mercy.

After only a few strokes he began ejaculating all over his chest and face.
Sienna forced as much as she could into his mouth. He tried to spit it out but
she scraped it off his chest and face and rubbed it into his mouth. Grabbing
his hair, the woman dragged Mark to the camera and covered his mouth with
her hand. "Swallow," she commanded, licking his ear while holding his
mouth closed. He tried to shake free but she was too strong for him. By
holding his nose closed and then stroking his throat, she finally forced him to
swallow his own semen. When she finally released him, he fell back to the
floor crying and coughing. She looked back to the camera. "I haven't even
started yet," she said, licking her lips.

As Mark lay on the floor in a pitiful heap, Sienna casually strolled out of the
camera's view. When she returned she had a lipstick tube and a compact in
her hands. "I think I need to freshen up a bit," she said, winking into the
camera lens. Holding her compact next to the camera, so that the viewers
would see exactly what she was doing, Sienna carefully reapplied her blood-
red lipstick, slowly and sensually. Then she blew the camera an arrogant,
sultry kiss. "I think little Marky is turned on by my sexiness. Don't you?"
asked the camera, then giggled.

Sienna then picked up the tripod and moved it close to the mirrored wall. "I'm
sure everyone will want to have a front-row view, don't you, Mark?"

Mark didn't answer. He was crawling toward the door, desperately trying to
escape the room while the woman was preoccupied. "Not so fast, young
man!" Sienna dragged him by his hair back to the mirrored wall. He could
barely resist when she put him into a full nelson and then forced him down to
his knees. She positioned him so that he was facing the mirror directly in the
camera's field of view, so that the camera, he, and she all saw the same thing.

Grinning into the mirror, and therefore into the camera, Sienna pushed Mark
forward and slid her knees under his arms, which she then pulled backward
until they were trapped over his thighs. She now had him imprisoned in a
camel clutch. Leaning forward, her motherly breasts hanging down above his
head so that he and the camera both saw them swaying in the mirror, Sienna
jerked Mark's head back by the hair with her left hand. Smiling seductively,
the older woman ran the fingernail of her right index finger over the boy's
agonized face, dragging the sharp crimson nail painfully across his cheek,
then his jaw, then his throat. He moaned pathetically and struggled in vain.
The camera was positioned perfectly to record the bizarre juxtaposition of his
large, muscular body held unmercifully by the smaller, sexy woman, her face
aglow with triumph, his face a mask of shame and humiliation.

"Your squirming is delicious," Sienna cooed. Her pink tongue darted out and
probed his ear seductively.

Mark managed to force himself to gasp, through his pain, "You bitch." It was
almost inaudible. Sienna would have been angered had she not known how
completely she had broken the boy. This was his last, feeble attempt at

"Go ahead, if it makes you feel big and strong, curse me, honey," Sienna said
like a mother talking to a first-grader. She licked his cheek and then ran her
crimson nails over his face again, teasing him with their sharpness. "But that
might be the last thing you'll ever say."

Staring into the camera, Sienna spoke to the boy's parents. "Sam, Sara? Are
you listening? Right now you're wondering what I'm going to do, aren't you?
Well, I'm going to take this finger," she said, holding up her slender index
finger, "and I'm going to press it like this against his carotid artery." As
spoke, Sienna ran her finger over the side of the boy's throat until she was
satisfied that she had found the right spot. Mark struggled ineffectually, but
Sienna jerked his head back violently by the hair. She began grinding the tip
of her index finger into his neck. "What do you think?" the sadistic woman
continued. "Will I kill him? As you're watching this, you don't know, do you?"

Sienna's face in the mirror, and on the camera, was a vision of joy and sadism
wrapped in a veil of unbridled sexuality. She clearly was getting a
tremendous sexual charge out of her utter physical domination of this young
man. Soon his eyes rolled back in his head and his features went limp.
Sienna released him and let his head fall to the mat. He was still.

Sienna stood and placed her slim foot on the back of his motionless head.
She winked at the camera and blew a kiss. "I think I win."

Friday, February 17, 2006

Lara Croft

Karima Adebibe, 20 years old from London who has been chosen as the new international face of 'Lara Croft' action hero, poses for the media in London, Tuesday, Feb. 14, 2006. Karima was chosen from thousands of hopefuls, and will now embark on a gruelling training programme to prepare her for the role.

Mixed Wrestling Photos for Today

Hey come'on guys! I know you love sexy mixed wrestling. So here goes! Enjoy!

Agent Tasha's Adventure

Amazon Attorney's Revenge

by "Rich"

"You have to be kidding. Why are you bothering me about this?" I asked quietly and confidently seated in my plush chair from behind a solid mahogany desk. "Mr. Evans, several women on your staff have hired me to protect them
from you. Basically, they are afraid of you.", the young attorney answered.
Before continuing, I eyed her closely. Michele was certainly a beauty, with long dark hair and a face and body to die for. She was dressed in a black business suit with a nice short skirt and tight white blouse that neatly displayed the curve of her breasts. She was young, about 28, and I had complete confidence that there was nothing legally that she could do to me.
After all, I was a powerful man who owned the company and everything in it, plus my secretaries had complained about me to every government agency that they could find, but nothing ever came of it.

"Evans, your behavior has to stop. You have forced these women into sex; not to mention the remarks and ass slaps etc., and I AM going to stop you." With that, Michele shifted in her chair in such a way that her sexy short skirt
crawled higher up her delectable thigh. My mouth watered. I could see that she was as tough as she was beautiful, and she definitely had my attention.

"Michele, you have no case. Sure I have fucked many of my girls, probably knocked a couple up and slapped them around a little, but that's the price they have to pay to keep their jobs. Not a single one will testify against me, I guess you could say that they have to please their boss." I laughed.

At that she stood up, moved over to my desk and sat on the edge of it quite near to me. I was speechless as I could see the lacey tops of her black stockings and the tips of the matching garters supporting them. My admiration was clearly displayed by the small but insistent bulge showing in my pants. Michele leaned very close, and staring straight into my eyes, she reached down and began lightly stroking the front of my trousers with her fingernails. She smiled, "You are right, maybe I don't have a case, but you also know that I don't give up very easily. I can keep taking you and this company to court for the next
ten years until you go bankrupt and lose everything. Neither of us want that, so I have something else in mind that could settle this once and for all. You like your sex a little rough don't you?"

"Yyyyes." I managed to stammer. "Then I have a little contest for you. Let's you and me settle this thing man to man." She said still stroking slowly. My eyes were half closed and my thinking was being done by my raging hardon. I wanted her badly, but caution made me hold my tongue. "Of course, maybe you're afraid that a little cock like yours wouldn't stand a chance against me. Your victims all mentioned that you really weren't much of a man in bed, and I'm betting that you aren't much of a man in a fight..." She taunted. "You bitch! I'm gonna kick your ass and then ream it until it bleeds!" I roared at her. "That sounds like a challenge to me." She smiled coyly never letting up the pressure on my trouser front. "Now, tell me about
this contest before I take you right here." I demanded.

She threw back her head and laughed out loud, her long black hair covering her face. "It's very simple. Its called a cockfight." My eyes flew open. "How does it work since you don't have a cock?" I asked suspiciously. "Very simple, we go into the conference room right now and I'll strap on a dildo. We will be totally naked and stand toe to toe while a single piece of
tape is placed around both of our cocks to hold them together. We will take turns exchanging punches one at a time, and if the person receiving the blow loses cock to cock contact, the hitter gets to hit a second time and so on until one of us goes down and can't get up." She went on to explain. "But, if the person being hit keeps contact, then it is their turn to throw the next punch."

I looked her over carefully, she was about 5'6" and around 120 pounds, with a tight body that showed she worked out some,but she would never be able to take punches from me. I had been in a few fights in my time and hadn't done badly against some pretty tough competition. This wouldn't be a contest.

"Of course", she continued, "we will need a referee to keep the fight fair, and maybe some of your secretaries as witnesses". "I don't know about that...." I hesitated. "What's the matter, afraid of them seeing you getting beaten by a woman? After all, you control most of them anyway, so what's the problem?" She demanded. "What do I get when I beat you?" I asked. "You can have me anywhere, anytime and as often as you like, plus you can have every other woman in the room with the same deal." Michele put her face close to mine and continued with an edgeof toughness in her voice, "BUT when you lose to me, you will sign a confession detailling your crimes against these women, and then I will fix it so you never hurt another woman again." "Deal?"
"Well, I don't know, the stakes are pretty high....", I hesitated.
With an air of indifference she said, "If don't think you are man enough to take the deal...." That did it, and I snapped at her, "You have a deal!". I knew this was going to be the easiest piece of ass I had had yet.

With that, Michele got up gave me a wanton look and strutted toward the door swinging her sexy bottom. "Come on tough guy, I want to finish you before quitting time." She called back over her shoulder. I followed her into the large conference room where the twelve or so secretaries were seated around the walls and the center was already cleared of furniture to make room for the fight.
Michele turned to me, removed her blazer and immediately began unbuttoning her white satin blouse while I stood transfixed. "Come on, Evans get undressed.... you aren't thinking of changing your mind are you? Maybe you are afraid that these womenwill laugh when you drop your pants." Michele
challenged as her blouse and bra were thrown aside. Pissed off by her taunts, I stripped quickly until every stitch was thrown aside. My 4" of manhood was standing straight up in salute of her beauty. By this time, Michele had also finished undressing, but left on her black garter belt and stockings, beautifully framing both her bottom and her bush. I could see that she was nicely toned and lightly muscled, but nothing that I couldn't handle easily.

Chrissy, my secretary helped her to put on a realistic looking flesh colored strapon that dwarfed my cock by comparison. It must have been 10" long and thick as a silver dollar. All in all it was a wicked looking thing. Chrissy made us stand toe to toe as she lifted Michele's rubber cock and pulled my little hardon down to meet it. With that, she ran a single strip of medical tape around both cocks and with us tenuously tied together, she stepped aside. We were standing very close together so that there wasn't much room for error.

"Why don't you take the first shot, tough guy?" Michele asked putting her emphasis on the last two words. "Okay, but when you wake up, remember our deal."

I bunched my right fist and jabbed it hard into her midsection. To my utter surprise, she moved slightly from the blow, but kept contact. Chrissy stepped in and checked the tape. "Now it's my turn." She hissed menacingly. I tensed my body as she balled up her fist and smashed it into my left eye. My eye socket exploded with pain and blood began to run into my eye as I staggered backwards breaking contact. I was able to gather my wits as Chrissy pushed us back into position and taped us back together.
"Michele's turn again." She announced. Once again, I watched helplessly as Michele swung her fist into my jaw. I heard a loud cracking sound, staggered and almost fell from the force. My head was swimming from the pain as Chrissy put us back together again. In a loud voice she announced again, "Michele's turn again, you broke contact."

"You bitch, I think you broke my jaw!" .
"Shut up, I'm not done with you yet." She threatened. Once set, Michele struck me hard in the nose as a geyser of blood spurted from my nostrils. I was in serious trouble, my reactions were slowed, my nose and jaw felt as though they were broken, and I was blinded by the blood in my left eye. This woman was destroying my face and would probably kill me if it continued very long.
"Come on, you're a big tough man. Get back here and let me try again. After all, I'm probably getting tired and you may get another turn." She teased me as Chrissy pulled me back into place. I
closed my eyes as Michele wound up. "Crack!" My face exploded in pain again, the room was spinning and I felt myself fighting not to black out. My knees buckled under me and I dropped to my knees in front of her. "Come on, get up. I get to hit again." She ordered.

My world was spinning and it was all I could do to stay upright. I kept trying to get up, but my wobbily legs wouldn't supportmy weight. I knew then that I couldn't take another blow from her. "What's the matter? Want to quit?"

Michele laughed out loud as she slowly stroked the length of her monster strapon. "Here is what I do to quitters, first I'm going to make you suck this cock and then I am going to rip your ass apart with it. After that you will wear panties and a bra to show everyone what a sissy quitter you are!!! Still want to quit or would you rather go out as a man?" As I kneeled
staring up at her monster cock, I made my decision. "Please don't do this to me." I begged through my bloody swollen lips. "I want to go out like a man.."

She smiled down at my busted up face and said, "I will grant your wish. Just sign the confession." She thrust the paper and pen at me. I took it and Chrissy helped to guide my hand so as to sign it in the proper place. "There, I signed your paper, now please have mercy on me..." I grovelled at her feet.

"You want to go out like a man, so here goes!" With that, Michele wound up and connected up under my jaw with a vicious uppercut that almost lifted me off the ground and sent me flying onto my back. The world went black. When I awoke, I could hear the other women cheering wildly, "Take them! Take them! Take them!" With that, Michele bent over my prostrate body while Chrissy handed her a large silver knife. She snatched up my cock and balls in one powerful hand and pulled them tight. The knife flashed as she severed my manhood. Michele, my conqueror had taken her prizes as she stood over me and waved her new trophies in triumph.

I would never again hurt another woman.

Pin-Ups Today (Feb 18, 2006)

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Pin-ups for Today (Feb 16)

Belly Battle

There are lot of kinky sexual battles that enters my mind sometimes and I have been conceiving scenes about it ever since. On most of my fantasy I sometimes try to re-invent ways of how a sexy babe can defeat other sexy babes or hunky beef cakes in a very erotic fashion other that groin or sex targets.

One idea is this belly button thing. I find is sexual fascinating visualizing a girl defeating a muscle hunk by stabbing her finger on his belly button. Well…we know in reality there is nothing special about it, but remember that this is a fantasy sexual battle group.

I can just picture this muscle hunk wearing a very skimpy bikini brief, standing proud in front of this very sexy, bodacious babe in a very scanty tanga. All of a sudden the babe trusts her finger hitting the hunk’s belly button.

The hunk’s eyes widen in surprise…but gently close as his lips open a little. The girl keeps on inserting her finger in his “innie” as the hunk’s massive hands hold tight on her shoulders. The hunk’s massive frame gently fell but was supported by the girl’s sexy, sweaty body. His heads drapes on the girl’s shoulder while the girl continue stabbing his belly button with her finger.

Other kinky fantasy involves stabbing your finger on their hard nipples. (I like this idea on babes with large tits with proud areolas.), defeating muscular women and an Asian girl conquers a very sexy Western bomb shell by smothering her face with her panty-covered pussy.

Until next time, keep fantasizing.

Lethal Lady

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

A Day at the Spa

Created by Gutsy

"This ought to be fun!" thought Tiffany as she strolled through the front door of the B.O.D.Z Spa and Gym. It was the new LLIP agent's first day of operations.

Behind the reception desk sat a very tanned very blonde male clad only in a black bikini swimsuit. Ther guy's hair was longish and he was clearly buffed. His eyes widend as Tiffany came up to the desk and grinned as she yanked off her belly shirt to reveal only a very skimpy side-tie cherry-print string bikini that barely covered her landing-strip in front and did little to hide the top of her butt cleavage in back.

"Oooopppss!. Looks like I forgot the top..is that OK?"

The blonde hunk only grinned back at her 36 D's and handed her a towel and a key. Tiffany could see that his bikini was now totally inadequate to cover his growing delight at seeing her.

She leaped over the desk, surprising the BODZ look-out and sank down on her knees...she giggled as she reached for his bikini and held it out away from his lower belly. His pubes poked out and she teasingly said "You really ought to wear a larger size bikini...this one just doesn't do the job.."

He laughed and leaned back in the chair and she playfully let the elastic of his briefs snap back to his belly.
She then reached out and with her thumbs started to slowly yank down his bikini....he muttered "What are you doing, cunt?"...

Tiffany batted her eyes and whispered back "Haven't you ever heard of the movie 'Free Willy'?...well...I'm freeing your willy!"

He laughed again and she gazed as his massive shaft emerged freed and gorged...
He grinned slyly at her and said.."Are you the type of girl that swallows?".
"No..." Tiffany grinned back.."but I AM the type of girl who KILLS!" and with that she swiftly and unerringly thrust three fingers into the young hunk's bellybutton.

The 23 year old blonde stiffend and yelped...as he could fee the shock waves radiating out from his umbilical center to his guts and then his heart...The expert blow was killing him.. and his vital organs were shutting down..with one exception.

"Better hurry, hunk boy!!!" Tiffany mocked 'im as he slowly slumped in the chair and tried to cum...
He jerked a bit..sighed...then died....then cam..

"Awww...too bad..missed it...hehe."she mocked as the dead hunk spat cocksauce from a still living dick.
She let the snow storm subside then yanked the hunk's bikini of 'im altogether and put it in a gym bag on the desk.

With her strength and weight-training it was realtively easy for her to roll the dead hunk on the chair to an opening in the wall maked "Dirty Towels". She heft the hunk out of the chair and shoved him head first down the chute into the basement..noticing his body one last time..."Mmmm...bikini tan lines!..love that in a guy..."
She laughed and headed into the gym...

“Hi!” Tiffany breezily said as she opened the door to the gym. Right at the door was a dark-skinned Mex BODZ Agent in a bright orange bikini swimsuit. He was at the punching bag sweating and huffing as he lambasted the leather ball.

She walked up to him, saucily flung her towel back to reveal her boobs and snarled in a mock-gruff an thoroughly sexy growl…..”You! in here, right now!”

The sweating hunk stared in disbelief and paused…

“I said…IN HERE!!!!” Tiffany growled again…as she indicated a large closet off the gym. Her words caught the interest of two more guys working out at the Nautilus machine and Tiffany could hear the sounds of female voices in the sauna. Right now, the latino in the orange bikini was the focus.

She crooked her finger and playfully hooked him under the chin and led him into the closet and closed the door. She cleared a wall of brooms and other gear, planted her ass against the wall, drew the hunk to herself and purred…

“Now…DO ME!”
The BODZ man couldn’t believe his luck and grinned like a wolf and started to thumb down his bikini below his crotch…

“That’s the boy…let it go free!..now…stick it in and ram it hard!”
The BODZ stud couldn’t believe his luck…a hot chick with the sexual mores of a jock frat boy!

“BOUND FOR GLORY!” he muttered as he leveled….aimed.. and thrust at Tiffany’s now bared muff as she lowered her bikini below the appropriate aperture…he speared her…right in…and out….and in again…
She was lubed and he was hot and stiff….they fucked…they both grunted…she licvked his thick muscular neck…and started to paw him all over his broad naked back…then down his belly…she moistened her fingers with some of the cum that he was liberally bestowing upon her and rubbed the stud muffin’s six-pack with it….she fingered his bellybutton…
She did…she killed him.

He suddenly gulped…stared…looked down at his midsection…then back at Tiffany…then his eyes rolled up and he slowly crumpled over into a laundry cart head first.

She’d crushed his balls and plunked his ‘button in one swift two-haned move.

He sagged limp into the cart…butt up…she reached for his bikini and yanked it off ‘im leaving him bare assed. She put his bikini to her lips and breathed in his fragance…pheeeewwww! She laughed….after all….guys don’t’ perfume their panties like girls do. She tossed the dead guy’s bikini into her gym bag
She flipped ‘im over, and he sprawled naked and stiff dicked.

He was dead….except for his shaft…still rather active..

She slammed the lid on his body…and he lay in the laundry cart cooling and post-mortemly cumming…

Wednesday, February 8, 2006

Super Trish strikes yet again

This story was contributed by a very, very sexy individual. You know who you are (*wink*)
Please bare in mind that this is just a naughty fiction. The events and characters are not real and it is not my or the authors intention if there is any coincidence in real life (Woah!)

Thank You.

The muscular hunk couldn't believe the stories he was hearing, it was too impossible to accept that a girl was causing such havoc, staking out her undisputed claim as the most lethal fighter on the beach. And yet, the bodies of naked muscular men had been discovered dead in various locations, soundly defeated by someone.

The muscular hunk, who considered himself the king of the beach, knew that the other men had been stripped naked and died violently, whether their necks had been broken or they were strangled to death. What a humiliating end, he thought, to take your last breath naked and erect before a gloating opponent. But, a woman, no way.

That's' what he was hearing, though. It was early morning when he arrived at the beach, wearing a skimpy orange bikini, the bulge of his penis outlined perfectly in profile beneath his suit.

Three naked hunks had been found dead the other week, naked and lined up in a row in a secluded section of the beach. It was embarrassing to try and imagine such a fate, but the hunk in the orange bikini felt his cock straining against the front of his suit as he thought about the possibility of a fight to the death with a beautiful woman. But it could never happen, he scoffed, he'd never lost a fight in his life, so how could he possibly be defeated by a mere woman?

The stories were circulating, though, and they had a ring of truth to them. The woman was said to be hot, shapely and athletic, but with a body that radiated feminine perfection. Word was that her name was Trish, and that after the bodies of
her male victims began showing up, people began referring to the mysterious woman as Super Trish.

Super Trish, my ass, the hunk thought. He'd turn her into Super Trash, if she existed, and then he'd have his way with her, proving his male dominance once and for all as he laid her out before him and forcefully plunged his member into her helpless and waiting pussy.

The beach was empty, but up ahead, the hunk could make out a figure, but he wasn't sure whether it was a man or a woman. He started jogging, his package bouncing in the pouch that served as the front of his suit. As he came closer, he saw that an attractive brunette in a tan string bikini was lying on a blanket, her smooth cocoa-colored skin beckoning him onward.

The hunk stopped and marveled at the girl's shape as she lay on her belly. He was excited that she wasn't wearing a top, and he was getting harder thinking of flipping her over and getting a look at her exposed breasts. His prick was tingling as
he admired her barely covered ass, excitement building so much that he was struggling against the urge to reach down and relieve himself.

He wondered what the large white letters SP on the red blanket that the babe was lying on stood for, as the woman sat up and faced him.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked playfully, noticeably glancing at the growing bulge in his suit.

"I don't need help with anything," the hunk said.

"That's not what it looks like from here," she teased, as she stood up before him.

A flash of annoyance crossed his face, while the front of his suit quivered. Could it be, he wondered, did the SP on the blanket indeed stand for "Super Trish?"

"Are you the one?" he asked, unable to quite accept that this attractive girl might be the one who was creating so much havoc on the beach, conquering one hunk after another.

"Try me," she said seductively, the fingers on her right hand playfully adjusting the string of her bikini.

The hunk wanted her, wanted to possess her, to take her on the spot, to prove his animal male power, both sexually and physically.

He had to have her, he was about to explode. The hunk lunged toward her with outstretched arms but she deftly ducked
under his grasp, slamming her elbow into his ribs as he passed, a sharp crack telling her she had accurately hit her target.

The hunk turned to face her, grimacing, his erect cock sneaking out the right side of his skimpy suit.

"You look like you need relief," she laughed.

The rage was overwhelming, that this girl could dare mock him, he couldn't take it. He swung for her mocking face with a
powerful right, but she easily deflected it with her left arm, then followed up with a sharp right straight into his belly, doubling him over.

He was bent over, holding his gut in pain and anger. The girl grabbed him by the hair and lowering his head, she simultaneously brought her knee up, smashing his nose against it.

"My name's Trish," she said, releasing his hair, as the hunk spun around and fell flat on his belly.

Lying before her, it was over, the fight, that easy. The hunk was stunned, but he knew he was finished. He crawled across the sand toward the ocean, not quite sure what he was doing or where he could go.

Trish walked majestically beside the broken hunk. As he reached the water, she went down on one knee and ripped his
skimpy suit off, slipping it off his backside and down his leg before tossing it back on the beach.

Nice ass, she thought. And it's all mine.

Trish settled herself on the naked hunk's back, as if she was riding him, which in a sense she was, and jammed his head down under the water with her outstretched arms.

The hunk was bewildered, confused, as his face hit the water. He should be on top of the babe, but she was the one so obviously in control. He felt his hard dick as his body was pushed down against the sandy bottom of the ocean floor. Bitch, he thought. You God damn, bitch! But he was helpless. She was rubbing her superiority in literally, moaning with pleasure as she humped his naked back, grinding her barely covered mound against him, as he tried to futilely buck her off and frantically kicked his legs as water filled his lungs.

A conflicting mixture of feelings were swirling through his hazy brain as his struggles slowed, while her humping pace picked up, her momentum increasing, an orgasm assured, at his expense, just moments away. He was angry and humiliated,his shame battling with his excitement, and though he was unable to breathe, her arms mashing his face down hard against the sandy bottom beneath the water, he felt a rock hard surging in his penis as it pounded against the sand beneath her pulsating drives. What a bitch, it should be me on top, he thought, arrrrrggggh, he tried to hold back, but what did it matter, she had him and he was finished anyway, and then his cock exploded, and she kept riding him, holding his head fast
beneath the water, until she was satisfied that the naked hunk between her legs was quite dead.

Releasing his head, Trish sat up, taking her time, settling down, regaining her breath. She needed to calm herself, to relax.

She stood, glancing down at the naked hunk's dead body floating at the edge of the beach, the water gently lapping underneath his legs, his bare ass bobbing gently about. Trish stretched, then planted her foot on the conquered hunk's ass. There was no need for words, it had all been said with her actions. Besides, the naked hunk was gone, far beyond the sound of her words.

Almost as an after thought, she dragged him out of the water and nudged him over on to his back with her foot. What an honor, and a compliment, she laughed, as she admired his penis still towering erect and jutting up from his lifeless body.

Time to go, she decided. So many bodies and so little time, she giggled, as she glanced one more time at her latest male victim. She scooped up his bikini and slipped it against her thigh beneath the string of her own bikini as she continued lazily down the long stretch of beach without a care in the world.

-The End-

Monday, February 6, 2006

Duncan vs Kirsty - The Screwdriver Bow

by duncan s

As I started to lose consciousness I tried to recall how I had managed to get into this deadly hold, known as the Screwdriver Bow.

Minutes ago I held Kirsty, a buxom blonde wrestler wearing a one piece thong leotard that was next to transparent, in a lady-taming cunt stretch. Having wrestled her to the mat on her back, I stood holding one of her smooth skinned legs against my hip, lifting her butt off the mat. I gripped that leg tightly and placed the ball of my foot against her thrusting pubic mound. My leg bent I started to straighten it. She moaned as the pressure on her mound increased. Then I dropped back to the mats, the pressure suddenly maxing her out. She scream and slapped the mats but I would not let go, gasping as I pressed harder.

Amazingly she did not submit. The pain must have been overwhelming but it just seemed to fuel her. She pushed herself up on her elbows, then her hands, then gripped my ankle and with incredible strength of mind pulled my foot our from between her legs. I tried to reapply the hold but within seconds I was turned onto my front by the same foot that I used to grind her vagina.

I slapped the mats as she turned the hold around. She had not let go of my foot and she was bending my leg back, towards my head, bowing my back painfully. I lifted my head and saw that she had shuffled around to my head, pulling my leg back over my body, arching my back into a ‘C’. A foolish thought on my part as she immediately grabbed my head by the scruff of the hair, holding me in tension whilst she brought her legs forward so that she was sitting on her butt, her legs spread in a V either side of me.

I felt her thighs close around my head, muffling the sounds of her gasps as she pulled me into the position. I pictured the position: face down in her crotch, my leg bent back over my body. My hands clawed at her legs - with each squeeze I spasmed and slapped at them uselessly....

With her other hand she reached down my trunks and grasped my already erect cock. I begged, through muffled moans, for her not to continue. I slapped the mats in submission, which she did not accept. Her hand roughly worked my cock like she was milking a cow, each yank seemed to bury my head deeper within her thighs and crotch, each thrust seemed to bend my back further. The Screwdriver Bow.

The last thing I remember is the barest of touches of her breasts against my back, and my ensuing orgasm. The convulsion was enough to take my last gasp and my back spasmed me into unconsciousness, my hand still trying to tap out against her rippling thighs.


Pin-ups for today (Feb 7)