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Mixed Battles
Old Rivals
Product Details
Бренд:
Rules for losers
Уникальный код:
W-884
Mixed wrestling, 280 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), no nudity, no blood.
The central arena had been closed for many months for various reasons, and the owners and promoters were keen for the grand reopening to “go with a bang”. They needed a sell-out, both for the revenue, and for their own belief in the venture.
At the meeting to discuss what to host and whom to invite, they could only disagree and then reject suggestions. So jugglers, acrobats, mime artists and folk singers were all thrown out, and the committee members sat looking glum. But then one person had a brainwave: why not host a wrestling match between the old rivals, Bethan Thomas and Hamish MacDonald?
Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? was everyone’s immediate reaction. The antagonism between the two was notorious, and whenever they fought it always attracted interest – not to say fascination. They had been partners, but fell out bitterly when Bethan decided to join Hamish and become a professional wrestler. More immediately to this story, they each agreed to the match when approached, the event was booked, and tickets did indeed sell out.
That Saturday evening there was a “buzz” all through the arena as the opposing fans sang and chanted at each other. But when the two wrestlers entered the ring, those several thousand people fell silent.
Even Bethan’s detractors couldn’t help admiring her in her trademark white leotard. It was like clingfilm over her beautiful body (and only slightly less transparent). Men’s eyes were popping at her exquisite breasts underneath it. When the lights caught it, those lovely orbs crowned with stiff nipples and a large circle of flesh the same colour, were a maddening sight for Hamish, himself dressed in nondescript shorts.
Bethan and Hamish stared at one another. One made a slight move, and the other reacted instantly. They locked up, and the fight was on. They still glared as they struggled. Bethan neutralised and held onto a punch while pushing his mouth and chin with the flat of her hand. Then round went her left elbow into his cheekbone and nose, and the first cheers arose from the audience.
Still holding his left arm in both hands, she struck again with her elbow, this time on his chin. Distracted by the twin assaults to his face, Hamish found himself being steered to the mat by that elbow thrust against his chin. Bethan followed him down, and whipped her left arm around his neck to head lock him. She jammed her arm against his left, near, shoulder to neutralise that arm. As he collapsed onto his back, she reinforced the head lock by linking her arms around his neck.
Lying sideways on to him, Bethan now had that same left arm trapped under her while his other arm was too far away to do any harm. The way she head locked him pushed his face against her left breast, tormenting him deliberately.
Or was she just tormenting him? The crowd grew restive when they both kissed next. There were one or two boos as well. After all, they had come here to watch wrestling, not some romantic reconciliation.
But their doubts were dispelled when the wrestlers started grappling in earnest. In fact, for a couple of moments, with first Hamish on top then Bethan, they appeared to be rolling around the ring. She might have ended up dominant, but he had her by the throat. She dropped down to escape it, and they both appeared to be trying to choke the other. Bethan had her left arm round Hamish’s neck, while he had both arms linked (but loosely owing to their position) round her neck.
By shifting suddenly, she managed to win the battle of the chokes. With both of them on their sides, she clenched her right arm round his neck, while pushing his face into the clench with her right hand. All his efforts went defensively in trying to prize her off.
Moving unexpectedly again, Bethan managed to change the hold into a cross face. Lying to his side, she clasped her hands under his chin and dragged his head. His neck pains were getting serious. He tried ineffectually to dislodge her with his near, left hand, by grabbing her leg. It only made it worse for him though, because she clamped her legs shut, locking his arm.
Having weakened his neck, and inflicted considerable pain on it, Bethan sought to exploit it. Looking to head lock him again, there followed more grappling and Hamish resisted fiercely. But her unorthodox moves gave her the initiative, and he found frustratingly that he was limited to reacting to the action rather than initiating it. In an inspired piece of improvisation, she managed to combine a body scissor with a head lock. Lying on her side, she constricted his left ribcage with her thighs, while locking his head in both her arms, pushing it against her breasts (more tormenting?)
Dragging him upwards, she managed to maintain the hold so that she ended up “riding” him on his back, like a cowboy trying to break in a stubborn horse. She forced him to waste his strength supporting the pair of them on his hands and knees. Meanwhile, she was choking him and laying siege to both ribcages now. Not only that, her heels were positioned ominously underneath his balls, giving him something else to worry about.
Hamish couldn’t hold up the pair of them indefinitely. His arms and legs began to wobble and, like the cowboy’s horse being tamed, he gave up and dropped to his knees. But that’s as far as the analogy goes, because once he was relieved of the pressure, he was in no mood to be tamed.
Bethan was still at his back, always keen to establish another hold. In a reaction that had women in the audience shouting their objections, he reached round behind Bethan and roughly grabbed her sex. It was the first time that he had caused her any real trouble. She responded by hooking her left arm round his tender neck, while warding off his attempts to free himself with her other hand.
It didn’t work. In an abrupt change of fortune, Hamish forced her off him. Taking a leaf out of her book, he surprised her by shifting onto his back and taking her with him. With his right hand clasping her waist, he mauled her left breast with his left hand. It brought more shouts of dissent from women in the audience. Men jeered back at them, and one or two threats were exchanged.
Bethan counterattacked. She knew she had damaged his neck and regarded it as her obvious target. But it meant she had to reach behind her head, so she somersaulted. In the event it was only half a somersault, because Hamish stopped her with his left leg. The ungainly result was that her two legs and his one leg were pointing up in the air.
It turned out that half a somersault was enough though, because she had both hands on his head and tugged. Hamish gave a cry of pain and was temporarily unable to resist. Bethan completed the somersault and spun round onto her front, never letting go of his head. Now facing him, she reached her left arm under his right armpit and linked it with her right which was round his neck. This locked his right arm into the choke. He, poor fellow, had swapped the ugly position he was in earlier, with an equally unattractive one, now that he was on his knees with his backside in the air.
“Do you mind?” shouted one of the women in the audience. “What a horrible sight!” replied another.
Hamish yelped as she dragged him up by the neck onto his hands and knees. Squatting beside him, Bethan heaved him towards her with both arms choking his neck, so that his face was pushed against her left breast.
“That’s right, girl, show him what he’s missing!” shouted one of her female supporters.
Bethan took her cue and kissed Hamish again. This time there were no derision, because it was clear what she was doing, as the lady had helpfully suggested.
But it was a rash thing to do even so, because Hamish used the unexpected respite to tumble her onto her back. Using his superior weight, he landed crossways over her, thrust his right arm under her left leg, then linked his arms to lock her leg. He forced it upwards until she cried out for the first time.
Hamish felt her leg go weak, so he relaxed. Then, gritting her teeth, Bethan suddenly pushed with that leg, breaking his hold. Having humbugged him, she whipped both her legs under his arms, scissoring each one and – yet again – seized his wounded neck.
Although her unconventional hold didn’t look at all like one, its effect was like that of a full Nelson. Sitting to his side, with her legs locking his arms behind his head, she yanked him forwards with both hands round his neck and head. As anyone who has had a painful neck will tell you, if it hurts too badly you are effectively paralysed. Create an injury and exploit it was her motto. Hamish’s cries of pain told her how right she was.
Ever inventive, Bethan unexpectedly released him and spun round. Her momentum sent him sprawling, so she turned again, dragged him towards her, and encased him in a body scissor from underneath. Joining both her arms under her legs and over his arms, she managed to trap him completely in the hold. Her thighs now resumed their earlier task of compressing his ribs.
But not for long. Eager to make progress, Bethan did a sort of mini push up. It dislodged Hamish and, relieved of his weight, she then turned it into a shove. Its result was that he hurtled up and over, steered by her grasping his left leg, so that he came crashing down on his head and left shoulder. Even some of Bethan’s fans winced in sympathy at the rictus of pain across his face. Moreover, she had that left leg of his locked, bending it back around her head. Kneeling on one knee as she was, she was satisfied to see the severe pain etched on his face.
It was a straightforward transition to turn the hold into a Boston crab. Kneeling over and away from him, Bethan grabbed both his legs, crossed them, then pulled. She yanked. She hauled. He howled. Women laughed. The strain on his legs, stomach, ribs and chest came close to breaking him of the will to fight on.
There were cheers and gasps at Bethan’s next move. To call it a head scissor would be like calling a glass of exceptional wine a drop of booze. Balancing herself on her left hand, facing away from Hamish to his side, she coiled her fine legs around his neck, and used her right hand to lever her left foot to reinforce the severity of the hold. Could she have achieved the same effect on Hamish with a more conventional scissor? Probably, but it wouldn’t have been such good theatre – and they were in a kind of theatre, after all.
In fact, by scissoring him in this spectacular way, she raised his head as well as squeezing his neck, in an echo of a camel clutch. She was targeting the bones, muscles and tendons she had already weakened in his ribs, shoulders and neck. Especially his neck.
Bethan sat him above her afterwards, too damaged to respond after her onslaught, and becoming a figure of fun for many in the audience. People wondered why she did this, although it was comical to see his face – like some of those staged wrestlers on television. But it became clear enough when, with a great kick of her left leg, she sent him hurtling off her to land both on his head and feet with his middle in the air.
“Oh!” declared many thousand people, as he somersaulted back to stand properly, and seized Bethan’s right foot. He dragged her across the ring for a few paces before dropping down on his backside and teasing her breasts with his foot.
She answered with her left boot – bang! – across his face, from chin to temple. It pushed him back, and he had to steady himself with both hands behind him to prevent falling. It worked – until Bethan pushed with her foot already in place and he collapsed onto his back.
The trouble from his point of view was that she didn’t stop pushing after that, and he desperately tried to remove her foot from his face.
When Bethan did at last give the “hold” up, he made to get up; but she hooked the same right foot in at his ear while he was still on his hands and knees. There was no kissing or tormenting now – this was a savage, nasty fight. Some of the gentler audience members found themselves looking away from the ferocity of the action. (Or rather, her actions.)
To be fair to Hamish, he did come back at her from that, and the pair of them struggled for supremacy for a few moments. But it didn’t last. She had weakened him already, now she overpowered him. She choked him with her right her knee on his throat (illegal in more formal wrestling events) and her right hand clawing his face. Kneeling with her other leg securing his left arm, she kept a tight hold of his right arm, just in case he should get one of those surprising bursts of action that we have already seen a couple of times.
Bethan and her supporters sensed victory. There were shouts of encouragement as she pinned Hamish, this time with her right arm across his throat. Audience members nudged each other and pointed to where her right knee was - just a few inches below his balls.
Knowing her audience, Bethan brought her leg up, to give her greater purchase, but then kept it (and everyone else, including Hamish) in suspense. Women started chanting, “DO it, DO it, DO it!” Then she plunged her knee hard into Hamish’s balls. As he screamed, she looked over to where the bulk of her supporters were and grinned wickedly at their deafening cheers.
She schoolgirl pinned him, holding his wrists appropriately in the surrender position. “Give up?” she asked, her face very close to his.
“Yeah,” he winced with pain and defeat, while nursing his balls.
She kissed him, still threatening and teasing him with her knee touching his balls. Then, with a dramatic flourish, she knelt with her left leg over his abdomen and balls while pinning his left arm under her right boot, just to warn him against any further challenges.
At last, Bethan accepted victory and posed with her boot on the defeated male’s balls, while the crowd roared themselves hoarse.
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