crocwrestler
07-18-2012, 01:28 AM
He is knelt in a small circle painted at the centre of the mat. The mat is large and easily fills three quarters of the basement in which it is laid out. Pressed up against the wall on one side of the mat is a queening stool, a bench and a cross. Several lengths of ropeand chain hang from hooks on the wall and there are other assorted items belonging to her. Normally, the furniture is dotted around the room, but not today. Today is their monthly wrestling match and he has moved the furniture aside to lay out the mat. He isn’t looking at the objects across the room, his head is bowed and he is looking at the mat in front of him. He is naked, except for her collar around his neck and the chastity device she sometimes makes him wear. Both are locked in place. He is perfectly still. He is waiting for her.
She enters the basement and walks confidently, purposefully over to where he is knelt. She is carrying a holdall.She stops in front of him and he obediently, bends to kiss both of her bare feet. As he does so, he notices that her toe nails are painted lime green. Her feet have the scent of lime and her gleaming black skin feels like silk. As usual, she has bathed and prepared herself for the match to come. She reaches under his chin and lifts his head, so that his eyes travel the length of her slim, toned body. He notices that she is wearing her pale grey lycra running shorts and matching bra top. Both are skin tight and the lime green trim compliments her nail varnish perfectly. His eyes travel up past her generous cleavage in which, on a simple silver chain, nestle the keys to his collar and chastity device. Finally, his eyes meet hers. She holds him in her penetrating gaze and he is soon lost in the depths of her deep brown eyes.
She lifts him gently to his feet and placing her hands on either side of his head, she draws him in for a passionate lingering kiss, her tongue in his mouth.
“Good morning slave. I see everything is ready”
“Good morning Mistress. Yes everything is ready. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept very well, thank you. I’m feeling fresh and ready for our match.” she grins, her teeth a sea of white behind her full lips. “The usual rules apply.”
She walks to the edge of the mat and sets the holdall down. He is already fully aware of the rules, but she insistson reminding him every time.
“The best of 3 falls. Pins and submissions only. If you win, you will no longer be my slave. I’ll release you.Your clothes are in the bag.”She indicates the holdall. “If you win, you can get dressed and leave."
For a brief moment the thought of release, hits him like an express train, dizzying him. He has been her slave for four months.This has been his first time outside the safety of a vanilla relationship. It has been an enlightening experience. One he has enjoyed. One he will remember fondly, but it is time now to end the fun. He has decided to win today’s match and walk free. The thought of getting his life back intoxicates him, almost as much as the beautiful black goddess standing provocatively in front of him.
“But” she continues, “if I win, you will remain my slave for another month.”
They have wrestled at the beginning of each month since he first became her slave. Each time she promises him his freedom if he wins. Each time he has deliberately lost. He remembers that he wanted to be her slave. He remembers the buzz losing to her gave him and the pleasure beating him gave her. He had won a fall or two along the way to make the wrestling interesting, and he is certain he could have won any of their previous matches if had wanted to.
She has blossomed with the confidence her wins have given her. She is faster, stronger, more determined than she was when she first met the handsome white boy and made him her slave. She trains hard and works on her technique. She loves winning and she loves beating him. Sheloves the thrill of enslaving him all over again every month. The feelings of power and dominance it produces in her are like a drug. She has learnt all his moves, she knows his weaknesses. She knows how to beat him. He might not realise it yet, he might not understand it yet, but he will be her slave for as long as she wants him.
“Before we begin, slave,” her voice breaking their thoughts, “as it’s been 10 days since I last let you out of your cock cage, I’m sure you must be desperate for release. Would you like me to take your cage off so that you can relieve some of your tension? There’s a bowl by the bench you can use. But remember, if you’re still my slave at the end of our match, you’ll be eating your cum.” It’s her habit to deny him sexual release for a week or more in the lead up to their match. She knows how frustrated it makes him to be denied, while she continues to use his tongue forher pleasure whenever she wants.
He nods and she takes the key from around her neck and unlocks his cock cage. He walks over to the bench and reaches for the bowl. He can feel her eyes on him as he takes himself into hishand. It is over quickly and he knows the amusement she will be feeling as she watches him jerk into the bowl. He puts the bowl down on the bench. Eating his own cum is a delight he won’t miss when he’s free.
“Lick your hand clean, slave. I don’t want your cum making a mess on me”. He does as he’s told, trying not to show his distaste as he swallows a drop of his own cum.
“Good. One last thing before we start.”She takes the second key from around her neck and unlocks his collar. He puts it on the bench next to the bowl. He massages his neck and says a silent goodbye to that particular piece of unyielding leather.
“Ok slave, let’s get ready torum..bull...” she mimics the voice of a fight ring announcer. He takes a deep breath and turns to face her.
They square up in the middle of the mat. She is relaxed, confident and smiling. He is tense and focused. She goes straight onto the offensive and feints to her right, he dodges her imaginary move but his weight is on his heels. She darts forward and with a sweep of herfoot takes his legs from under him. As he falls he turns to land on his side.Before he can regain his feet, she wraps her legs around him in a bodyscissors, squeezing hard. He works to prise her legs apart, but it takes a few seconds and a lot of effort. He’s now out of the frying pan and into the fire, as she re-applies another scissor hold, this time a head-scissors. He works again to break her hold, but this time he can’t get the leverage to prise her legs apart. She can see his face start to redden as she squeezes harder. She knows she has him and works towards a submission. She grabs his hair and burieshis nose deep into her crotch holding it there as she squeezes ever harder withher thighs. His face is buried so deep into her running shorts that he can no longer breathe. He knows he will only weaken himself by further resistance. He taps out his submission.
She pushes him away and leaps to her feet, bouncing up and down on her toes. He lingers where she has left him, not wanting to see the delight he knows is in her eyes.
“1 to love, slave. Up you get, let’s go again.”
He gets to his feet. He knows he has to win the next 2 falls. He simply must win. He can’t face another month as a slave, not even as the slave of this stunningly beautiful woman. It was fun while it lasted, but enough!
He lunges forward at her, trying to seize the initiative. She sees him coming and rolls backwards, pulling him over the top of her and flipping him onto his back. She continues her backwards roll and lands firmly on his chest. She grabs his wrists and pins them above his head.She positions her knees to pin his elbows and presses her crotch hard against his chin. She looks down into his blue eyes, seeing the shock and fear in them and she starts to count. A count of 10 will win the match for her.
“..one, two..”
He twists his hips, kicking and bucking his legs in a frantic effort to dislodge her. To stop her from counting. She holds him pinned to the floor. There is no escape for all his effort.
“...seven….eight….” she is counting slower, enjoying the moment.
“….nine….”he gives up his attempts to dislodge her and lies motionless underneath her.
“…..ten!” he is stunned, humiliated anddesperately upset. He wanted to win today, he hadn’t lost on purpose. He wanted to be free, he wanted his life back. How could he have lost so quickly and so easily?
She stays sitting on him, looking down into his watery eyes. She can sense his inner turmoil. She knows it will pass,he will understand soon enough that he is hers.
She rolls him over and sits on the small of his back. She takes one of the lengths of rope from a hook on the walland begins to bind his hands behind his back. She shifts to loop the rope around his ankles and hog ties him. The sense of euphoria she is feeling atbeating him again, at enslaving him all over again is rising in her. God it feels good. Real good. Her feet barely touch the ground as she glides over tothe bench and picks up his collar and the bowl.
She locks the collar in place around his neck and purrs “my slave” into his ear. His eyes are closed, but a tear escapes and starts to roll down his cheek. She wipes it with her finger anddrops it into the bowl, which she has set down by his erect cock. She smiles asshe notices his erection and takes him in her hand. She works him gently theway she knows he likes it and he cums again into the bowl. When she has everydrop, she puts the bowl down in front of his face.
“I’m going for a training run now slave. When I get back, I want thisbowl empty and clean. I will also want to use your tongue to celebrate my win.If you’re lucky I might not put the your cock cage back on.”She picks up theholdall “you won’t be needing these will you.” and turns and skips through thedoor, closing it behind her.
She enters the basement and walks confidently, purposefully over to where he is knelt. She is carrying a holdall.She stops in front of him and he obediently, bends to kiss both of her bare feet. As he does so, he notices that her toe nails are painted lime green. Her feet have the scent of lime and her gleaming black skin feels like silk. As usual, she has bathed and prepared herself for the match to come. She reaches under his chin and lifts his head, so that his eyes travel the length of her slim, toned body. He notices that she is wearing her pale grey lycra running shorts and matching bra top. Both are skin tight and the lime green trim compliments her nail varnish perfectly. His eyes travel up past her generous cleavage in which, on a simple silver chain, nestle the keys to his collar and chastity device. Finally, his eyes meet hers. She holds him in her penetrating gaze and he is soon lost in the depths of her deep brown eyes.
She lifts him gently to his feet and placing her hands on either side of his head, she draws him in for a passionate lingering kiss, her tongue in his mouth.
“Good morning slave. I see everything is ready”
“Good morning Mistress. Yes everything is ready. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept very well, thank you. I’m feeling fresh and ready for our match.” she grins, her teeth a sea of white behind her full lips. “The usual rules apply.”
She walks to the edge of the mat and sets the holdall down. He is already fully aware of the rules, but she insistson reminding him every time.
“The best of 3 falls. Pins and submissions only. If you win, you will no longer be my slave. I’ll release you.Your clothes are in the bag.”She indicates the holdall. “If you win, you can get dressed and leave."
For a brief moment the thought of release, hits him like an express train, dizzying him. He has been her slave for four months.This has been his first time outside the safety of a vanilla relationship. It has been an enlightening experience. One he has enjoyed. One he will remember fondly, but it is time now to end the fun. He has decided to win today’s match and walk free. The thought of getting his life back intoxicates him, almost as much as the beautiful black goddess standing provocatively in front of him.
“But” she continues, “if I win, you will remain my slave for another month.”
They have wrestled at the beginning of each month since he first became her slave. Each time she promises him his freedom if he wins. Each time he has deliberately lost. He remembers that he wanted to be her slave. He remembers the buzz losing to her gave him and the pleasure beating him gave her. He had won a fall or two along the way to make the wrestling interesting, and he is certain he could have won any of their previous matches if had wanted to.
She has blossomed with the confidence her wins have given her. She is faster, stronger, more determined than she was when she first met the handsome white boy and made him her slave. She trains hard and works on her technique. She loves winning and she loves beating him. Sheloves the thrill of enslaving him all over again every month. The feelings of power and dominance it produces in her are like a drug. She has learnt all his moves, she knows his weaknesses. She knows how to beat him. He might not realise it yet, he might not understand it yet, but he will be her slave for as long as she wants him.
“Before we begin, slave,” her voice breaking their thoughts, “as it’s been 10 days since I last let you out of your cock cage, I’m sure you must be desperate for release. Would you like me to take your cage off so that you can relieve some of your tension? There’s a bowl by the bench you can use. But remember, if you’re still my slave at the end of our match, you’ll be eating your cum.” It’s her habit to deny him sexual release for a week or more in the lead up to their match. She knows how frustrated it makes him to be denied, while she continues to use his tongue forher pleasure whenever she wants.
He nods and she takes the key from around her neck and unlocks his cock cage. He walks over to the bench and reaches for the bowl. He can feel her eyes on him as he takes himself into hishand. It is over quickly and he knows the amusement she will be feeling as she watches him jerk into the bowl. He puts the bowl down on the bench. Eating his own cum is a delight he won’t miss when he’s free.
“Lick your hand clean, slave. I don’t want your cum making a mess on me”. He does as he’s told, trying not to show his distaste as he swallows a drop of his own cum.
“Good. One last thing before we start.”She takes the second key from around her neck and unlocks his collar. He puts it on the bench next to the bowl. He massages his neck and says a silent goodbye to that particular piece of unyielding leather.
“Ok slave, let’s get ready torum..bull...” she mimics the voice of a fight ring announcer. He takes a deep breath and turns to face her.
They square up in the middle of the mat. She is relaxed, confident and smiling. He is tense and focused. She goes straight onto the offensive and feints to her right, he dodges her imaginary move but his weight is on his heels. She darts forward and with a sweep of herfoot takes his legs from under him. As he falls he turns to land on his side.Before he can regain his feet, she wraps her legs around him in a bodyscissors, squeezing hard. He works to prise her legs apart, but it takes a few seconds and a lot of effort. He’s now out of the frying pan and into the fire, as she re-applies another scissor hold, this time a head-scissors. He works again to break her hold, but this time he can’t get the leverage to prise her legs apart. She can see his face start to redden as she squeezes harder. She knows she has him and works towards a submission. She grabs his hair and burieshis nose deep into her crotch holding it there as she squeezes ever harder withher thighs. His face is buried so deep into her running shorts that he can no longer breathe. He knows he will only weaken himself by further resistance. He taps out his submission.
She pushes him away and leaps to her feet, bouncing up and down on her toes. He lingers where she has left him, not wanting to see the delight he knows is in her eyes.
“1 to love, slave. Up you get, let’s go again.”
He gets to his feet. He knows he has to win the next 2 falls. He simply must win. He can’t face another month as a slave, not even as the slave of this stunningly beautiful woman. It was fun while it lasted, but enough!
He lunges forward at her, trying to seize the initiative. She sees him coming and rolls backwards, pulling him over the top of her and flipping him onto his back. She continues her backwards roll and lands firmly on his chest. She grabs his wrists and pins them above his head.She positions her knees to pin his elbows and presses her crotch hard against his chin. She looks down into his blue eyes, seeing the shock and fear in them and she starts to count. A count of 10 will win the match for her.
“..one, two..”
He twists his hips, kicking and bucking his legs in a frantic effort to dislodge her. To stop her from counting. She holds him pinned to the floor. There is no escape for all his effort.
“...seven….eight….” she is counting slower, enjoying the moment.
“….nine….”he gives up his attempts to dislodge her and lies motionless underneath her.
“…..ten!” he is stunned, humiliated anddesperately upset. He wanted to win today, he hadn’t lost on purpose. He wanted to be free, he wanted his life back. How could he have lost so quickly and so easily?
She stays sitting on him, looking down into his watery eyes. She can sense his inner turmoil. She knows it will pass,he will understand soon enough that he is hers.
She rolls him over and sits on the small of his back. She takes one of the lengths of rope from a hook on the walland begins to bind his hands behind his back. She shifts to loop the rope around his ankles and hog ties him. The sense of euphoria she is feeling atbeating him again, at enslaving him all over again is rising in her. God it feels good. Real good. Her feet barely touch the ground as she glides over tothe bench and picks up his collar and the bowl.
She locks the collar in place around his neck and purrs “my slave” into his ear. His eyes are closed, but a tear escapes and starts to roll down his cheek. She wipes it with her finger anddrops it into the bowl, which she has set down by his erect cock. She smiles asshe notices his erection and takes him in her hand. She works him gently theway she knows he likes it and he cums again into the bowl. When she has everydrop, she puts the bowl down in front of his face.
“I’m going for a training run now slave. When I get back, I want thisbowl empty and clean. I will also want to use your tongue to celebrate my win.If you’re lucky I might not put the your cock cage back on.”She picks up theholdall “you won’t be needing these will you.” and turns and skips through thedoor, closing it behind her.