Mixed wrestling and boxing, 220 pictures 1920x1080 (FullHD), no nudity, no blood.

​

Todd and his Japanese wife, Kimiko, were having their evening meal. She had acquired British habits in their meals, and as it was a Monday evening, they had cold meat and pickles. It was indeed a humble jar of pickle that lit the fuse on the bizarre subsequent 24 hours.

"What’s the matter?" asked Kimiko, as Todd seemed to struggle to unscrew the lid. "Can’t you do it?"

"Oh yes, of course I can," he laughed, "It’s just a bit awkward. Ow, bastard!" he glanced at his sore hand.

"Give it to me," his wife instructed.

"Oh, you won’t be able to –"

"How do you know?"

"No, I’ll try again." 

Kimiko sighed. "Well?"

"Not yet." 

Todd stood up and put the jar on the sideboard, trying yet again, with his back to her. It amused her to see his exaggerated movements, and to hear his muffled curses at the impudent item. But wanting some pickle herself, she in turn got up, and this time managed to get Todd to agree to let her have a go. It was his turn to watch.

"No, it isn’t easy," she concurred.

"You see?"

"Just a little bit more, though … no, dammit."

"I told you. We’re going to have to take it back –"

"There you go!" Kimiko was triumphant. Todd was sulky.

"I weakened it for you," he claimed, as they sat back down.

"Rubbish! The only thing you weakened was yourself."

"I don’t see how you could have done it."

"Japanese people have greater resilience than British. And strength."

"Poppycock!"

"It’s true. When I was a child, all Japanese children – girls as well as boys – were brought up to be tough and to withstand pain. I suppose it’s a legacy of the warrior tradition. You’re lucky we’re on your side now, aren’t you?" she laughed.

"I was brought up to be tough too."

"In a soft, British way," Kimiko laughed again. "We learnt to fight from an early age and took it seriously as far as adulthood. Sometimes during it as well."

"So did we."

"Ah, but we gave no quarter. And we learnt every type of combat, to a degree that it stays with you for the rest of your life. Women just as much as men."

"Yeah, yeah."

She levelled her glance at him. "Yes," she emphasised firmly.

"That looks like a challenge."

"It’s an assertion. If you doubt it, then you’re the challenger."

"Well yes I do doubt it, now you mention it."

"Very well, I accept your challenge. We’re not working tomorrow, because of this bloody lockdown. We will fight in the estate’s storage room. There’s everything in there, even boxing gloves. But," her tone softened, "whatever happens we’re still man and wife. We need to make love tonight before our conflict tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because you won’t be able to for several nights afterwards."

*****

The next day, in the storage room, they got changed into their "fighting gear". They were both quite accomplished in a gym, and Todd wore soft blue boots and tights, while Kimiko wore similar boots, but white, with a white leotard. Todd had to admit to himself that she looked sturdy, especially her thighs. He must be wary of them, and try to force her to use her upper body all the time. It’s well-known that a man’s strength is in his arms and shoulders, whereas a woman’s is in her legs and hips; and Kimiko emphasised the fact.

"I’ll take it easy on you," Todd told her condescendingly, with a smirk. But Kimiko was earnest: this was combat, and in the Orient, prized as honourable. Moreover he had just insulted her, by her standards.

"I’m going to humiliate you," she replied emphatically and, despite himself, Todd felt a shiver of fear.

They locked hands in an initial test of strength, both steadily increasing the pressure, but neither so far "giving". Kimiko stared all the time. Bloody unnerving it was, thought Todd. He averted his eyes to try and concentrate.

She was about to "give", he sensed, because she eased slightly on her right leg. It was time for him to employ all his strength in the push. He gritted his teeth and grunted, willing every ounce of force to bring her to her knees. But he pushed at nothing. He would have over-balanced and fallen, had Kimiko not had a hold of him. She used the strength that he had marshalled to swing him round and twist his right arm, while locking his neck and throat in a choke hold, at the same time securing his left arm. He was trapped. His arm burned, and the only fighting he did was for breath.

"I give up!" Todd implored. She lazily released him, just to reinforce the fact that she was in control. She looked it, too, he thought, as she stated it was 1 nil to her. He was shaken. He had been confident of the greater strength in his arms and shoulders, but she had out-witted him. Strength was secondary. In fact she had turned his strength into a handicap.

She approached him and started another test of strength, pressing up against him. As before she stared into his eyes, but this time she wore a languid smile as well. She pressed harder, not ashamed to use her sexual allure to distract him. Standing almost on tiptoe, her large breasts rubbed his chest, while her pelvis ground against the small of his stomach. He hadn’t expected this! 

But damn her, she now swung round 180 degrees behind him, clasping his arms, and drove her knee hard into his back. The blow was bad enough, but she hauled on his arms, arching his back over her knee in the "wrong" direction. His stomach muscles seemed to tear, and his spine couldn’t take much more. "I submit!" he shouted once more. She responded with, "2 nil."

Todd thought, "This can’t go on. I’ve got to restore some honour." He pitched right back into the fray, and they gripped arms again. He looked to force her down straight away this time, with no gradual build-up of force.

"How predictable," Kimiko thought, while swerving round behind him, catching him in the briefest of a full nelson, before plunging backwards and taking him with her. Somehow she contrived to make him take the impact of the fall and, lying on his back, forced him into a rear naked choke. She rolled onto her back, with Todd lying uppermost, and she now brought those powerful legs into play. She wrapped them round his middle in a body scissor, and applied a squeeze. 

They were formidable, those thighs! They began to exert their pressure. Up a notch, ok; now ratchet it up a bit more, that’s good. Next, turn the dial up again, and his resistance goes. Just one more crank of the lever … 

"I submit!"

"3-nil!"

Kimiko stood up, but Todd stayed where he was, lying on his back. Frankly, it seemed like a good idea. She, however, was keen to get on with the competition, and when he wouldn’t budge, joined him on the floor instead, employing her favourite schoolgirl pin. 

"Do you submit?" she demanded.

"I already have, you silly cow," Todd wanted to answer. Instead he replied,"YES." Then, for good measure, "Let me go!" Kimiko smiled wickedly, sat on his chest, and moved herself up as far as his face, then did a victory flex of her biceps, affirming, "I’m dominant, you’re the bitch!"

Todd weakly protested that he was better at boxing than wrestling. Perhaps he was, but it wasn’t the shrewdest thing to say, with Kimiko knowing the momentum lay with her. She eagerly got the gloves, and demanded he get up "or else." She knew she had weakened him with her earlier punishment, and he would probably be slower than usual, so when she declared she would further humiliate him and knock him out, she meant it.

They touched gloves, and Kimiko sprang into action with an ominous left jab – ominous because although it had the restraint of a jab, it carried the threat of a more powerful punch. It stung Todd’s chin too, and jerked his head back. Without giving him time to recover, she consolidated her advantage with a fierce blow with her right into his stomach. He stumbled, and folded round her glove; she retreated one pace, and gave him such a mighty right hook, that he lost his balance and went crashing to earth.

"Get up and fight like a man if you can," Kimiko addressed her husband, spread eagled on the floor. 

Bruised and damaged though he was, he wasn’t too far beaten to take that lying down (literally), so he got up, trying to disguise his unsteadiness. She instantly cracked him with a left cross. His whole body swung towards his left, so nearly falling ignominiously after a single punch. 

Todd’s jaw throbbed, and his head swam. And his wife smiled. Then she punched. In at the side she was this time, sharply with her right. His mouth opened in pain, and awe at his wife’s strength. How could a woman who had looked so demure in her wedding dress, not so very long ago, turn into this ferocious pugilist? His kidney pulsed with a pain which caused his whole body to feel numb.

Always one move ahead, Kimiko came in low at this stomach now, with her left fist. His stomach wall seemed to come ablaze. He retreated, lurching forward. Kimiko took it as an invitation to uppercut him. Her right fist hit him spot on, and propelled him into the air momentarily, so she helped him on his way to the floor again with a straight left.

She stood over him, an all-conquering amazon, and began counting. She got to 8 before her husband got shakily up. Hitherto she had been a study in dedication and professionalism, showing her native respect for the combat. But now she allowed herself a little relaxation.

"You’re getting beaten up by your wife," she crowed, "How soft you are!"

Saying which, she blasted him with her favourite left cross. Speed and surprise were the key to her success that day, and at no time were they better deployed than at this moment. The punch coincided with her last word, which had served to distract him. Not for her, any idle "trash talk" – it must have a tactical use.

Todd’s head recoiled at the punch. He was just recovering when Kimiko fired a left hook at his jaw. It thudded into his face, bludgeoning his senses further. His body swung violently to his left, and it was only because his reactions had become so deadened that he didn’t topple over just then. His legs seemed to take a moment to realise what had happened, so he just about remained upright. This suited Kimiko, because she wanted a flourish to end the match.

She took her time, while her husband swayed, waiting for the moment just before complete recovery.  He so nearly regained his full balance, when she unleashed a fearsome right uppercut, and it knocked him over like a skittle.

She stood over her vanquished husband again, one foot on either side of him, and started counting. This time he didn’t stir. She got to ten with no reaction from him, and declared "You’re out" for her benefit, because he was still unconscious. It was only when she put her foot on his chest and taunted him about being beaten up by a woman, that there was some flicker of reaction. So she briefly pinned him, schoolgirl style, just so he could see her flex her arms in triumph (and notice her large breasts, barely restrained by the low-cut leotard).

That ought to have been the end of it. But what the hell! It was too tempting with him lying there on his back. Moreover she considered that she hadn’t yet made full use of her best asset - her legs. So she dropped down beside him, and hooked those daunting weapons around his neck in a head scissor.

"Are you humiliated again?" she demanded.

"Yes," he replied unnecessarily.

Chuckling, she moved her thighs further over his neck, forcing his face up towards her sex. It is the most favoured of the spoils of war for a lady wrestler, after all! She lay back and stretched, relishing the sensations. Then she swung round and sat on his face, suffocating him until he had to say he submitted once again.

"I’m the boss and you’re the bitch, right" she demanded, pinning him once more.

"Right," he answered, all argument gone from him.

*****

At last, with a sigh that it was all over, Kimiko got up, and put her coat on over her leotard. She retrieved her handbag, and glanced impatiently at Todd, still lying on his back.

"Aren’t you coming home now?" she asked.

"Can’t move."

"Oh, come on."

"Can’t. Pain, here, in my side. I can’t get up."

Nor could he. Never try to lift an injured person on their back, we’re told, so she had no choice but to ring the doctor’s surgery.

"I wonder if a doctor could visit my husband, please. Well you see, he’s, er, he’s in a bit of a pickle actually…"