97D: Attaché versus Attaché, by Gark,
[Setting: Washington, D.C., June 1948.]
Over four years had passed since my encounter with Germany’s infamous Agent 97D. I’d managed to defeat her in a wild wrestle/fight, before interrogating her and destroying her much-vaunted spy ring. But I’d been unwilling to bring her in, instead choosing to release her. It was crazy, but I discovered much to my chagrin, that I had feelings for the woman who had almost killed me. I knew that she would probably receive the death sentence if I turned her in. But releasing her was probably little better as her masters in the SS would probably put her to death for her failure.
I had tried to locate her after the war, but all I found was her grave in a simple plot on a pleasant hill outside of Heidelberg. Her parents were reluctant to talk to me, saying only that she had passed away during the war. I’d felt terrible and depressed, but what choice did I have? To my great surprise, I felt like a part of me had passed away as well.
I’d been with numerous women in the years since, but none like 97D, although her actual name had been Greta Hofmeister. Certainly, the women had been beautiful, full-bodied lasses, but none had had more than a passing interest in wrestling with me, which had now become an obsession. I’d been aroused in their presence, but not in the same way or to the same extent as I had during my wrestle/fight with Greta. I doubted whether I’d ever find another woman like Greta, whose death was indirectly caused by myself. Was I doomed to go unfulfilled in life? Was this my punishment for having feelings for an enemy agent?
After the war, I continued to work as an undercover agent, as it came to me quite naturally. I did little fieldwork any more, concentrating mostly on intelligence gathering. My cover now was in the State Department as attaché to whichever ambassador served my purpose. At the moment, this was the West German ambassador. My assignment was to gather information on the growing threat from Russia and East Germany.
I’d used my new German connections to check further on 97D’s fate, but all I could turn up were a few tidbits about her pre-war days. Surprisingly, Greta had been quite plain looking in her teens. Her true beauty hadn’t bloomed until her college years. She had been active in sports, and various extracurricular activities, one of which didn’t surprise me a whit. Greta had belonged to a women’s wrestling club since her early teen years, eventually rising to club champion. That certainly explained her wrestling aptitude and abilities. Once war broke out, Greta had been recruited as an undercover agent, no doubt undergoing certain ‘conditioning’ by the SS. I doubted whether she had actually understood the true nature of her masters.
But today, I was temporarily returned to my hometown of Washington, D.C. from overseas with our German ambassador. Duty required I attend another boring meeting this afternoon with our German counterparts stationed here. I sat down and waited only a few moments for our guests to arrive. As they filed into the room, my heart skipped a beat when I saw a tall, strikingly beautiful blond woman among them. When I saw her face, I literally leapt to my feet to greet them. It was Greta… alive somehow… and more beautiful than ever!!
My heart sailed as she approached. But what would she think?? What would she do?? I had no idea until her gaze finally reached me and recognition registered on her face. I was relieved to be greeted by a smiling face and a forceful embrace.
Then Greta kissed me on the cheek and whispered quietly in my ear, “Do not call me by my real name! You must meet me later!”
She took a step back to introduce herself. “Hello. I am Petra Houptmann,” she said confidently.
“A pleasure to meet you Petra,” I replied smoothly. “My name is Bryce Smith.”
“A pleasure, as well,” she continued. Then ‘Petra’ stepped up to each of the remaining males and greeted them similarly to allay any suspicion. She was still very, very good. I was thrilled when ‘Petra’ sat next to me during the meeting. We played ‘footsy’ under the table, somehow eroticizing the wrestle-play between our feet. My male member grew as I began to anticipate what might come between us.
The meeting dragged on for several hours, but was finally concluded. As she stood up to leave, I slipped ‘Petra’ a note asking her to meet me in the lounge of the Waterford Hotel at 5pm.
I was on cloud nine as I entered the lounge promptly at 5:00 and saw Petra waiting for me. She rose to greet me, and we embraced fiercely, kissing long and hard, which strangely enough, was not really a surprise. After a few moments of passion, we made our way to a more private booth in the poorly lit back area of the lounge. At Petra’s suggestion, the waitress brought us a bottle of champagne. “We have to celebrate our renewed acquaintance!” she said.
We sat close together in the large U-shaped booth, our thighs touching as we inched together, side-by-side in the booth. We toasted our good fortune several times, but reality finally got the better of me, as I interrupted. “Now don’t get me wrong. I’m very thrilled and relieved to see you! But, I thought you were dead. I saw your grave. And even though there seems to be a lot of affection between us now, the last time we were together, you were trying your hardest to end my life.”
“Yes, guilty as charged. But, I’m very glad that I failed in my duty.” Petra hesitated momentarily. “You do realize that I was driven totally by duty to my country. I’m not really a killer by nature. The SS threatened my family, and conditioned me to do some terrible things.”
“I had hoped it was something like that,” I replied tentatively.
“Despite your obvious joy at seeing me, you are still wary, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Yes, some. But can you blame me?” I replied.
“Not really. But let me tell you the rest of my story so that you can judge for yourself,” she continued evenly.
“Certainly. Continue,” replied.
Petra poured out the rest of her story. “For a long time, I hated you for sparing my life. I felt humiliated about my defeat, as well as my pleading for you to ‘take me’. At that time, had we met, I would have eagerly tried again to end your life. I had been defeated, disgraced & debriefed, and could no longer function as a spy. I couldn’t return to my homeland, as they’d certainly have tortured me sadistically before execution. And, I couldn’t stay in England... or, could I?”
Petra continued. “I tried a desperate plan. I discarded my wigs, and cut my long hair short in a style similar to other English women. After all, no one but you knew me as a blond. And you had only seen me in long pigtails. Anyway, I made my way to the Manchester area with little difficulty, eventually finding work as a barmaid. I managed a comfortable, but unexciting existence there through the end of the war. In time, my SS ‘conditioning faded and I began to think rationally. I had time to think about why you let me go. That is right isn’t it… you let me go… you decided not to take me in, loosening the bonds of my ropes… probably even reporting to your superiors that I had gotten away at the last.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “You’ve got it right.”
“I even understand why you did it… I mean you were very gallant and all… but, you love me, don’t you? Or… is it that you love what we did together… that sexually charged fight we had. Tell me, which is it?” she asked straightforwardly.
“I’ve had plenty of time to think things over, too, and to figure out my true feelings,” I replied. “If you had asked me right then in the cottage, I would probably have replied that my attraction to you was purely physical and only due to the sexually charged fight and my total sexual arousal. But even a few hours later, I was racked with guilt and went back to the cottage for you. You were already gone, and your trail had grown cold. My heart was filled with bitter pain, realizing too late what might have been.”
“Believe me, it was better that you didn’t find me right then,” she continued. “It was several months before the realization came to me, and my thoughts of hatred turned to ones of love and admiration. You risked everything to save me, and it affected me greatly. When the war ended, I searched for you, too. But I didn’t know your name, and it was virtually impossible to locate a former spy. By the way, is Bryce Smith your real name?”
“Yes, that is my given name, actually. And, you probably couldn’t find me because I returned to the states as soon as the war was over. How about you? How did you end up ‘dead’?”
I found my way back to Germany about eight months after the end. To my parents’ great surprise, I appeared on their doorstep early one morning. They almost fainted on the spot, explaining later that the government had reported me killed in the service of my country. I was now a ‘dead’ person and decided to take advantage of it. I adopted the first name of one friend from wrestling club and the last name of another. I became Petra Houptmann. Eventually, I took another job with the government. It mattered not that I had no documents - much information was destroyed during the war. And, the old government had been purged completely, so there was no one left to recognize me.”
“That explains much. Your parents kept your secret when I called on them. If only they had known.”
“At that point, I hadn’t expected you would try to locate me. My parents had instructions to act very grief stricken and turn away anyone that inquired about me. I didn’t realize…”
“Well, we’re together now,” I replied, taking her hand in mine. “Let’s take this second chance we stumbled upon and get reacquainted. Now tell me… at what point did you realize you loved me? Or was it the sexually charged fight that you loved?”
She knew I was teasing, but she answered anyway. “Like you, I had never been that sexually aroused in my entire life. You’re a very attractive man, but I was sexually overwhelmed by the fact that you had defeated me in a wrestling fight. It was very, very arousing having a competent male opponent. You must realize that since the age of eighteen, I had never been defeated… until you. Nobody before, and nobody since has ever bested me… male or female.”
“I believe it. Tell me, did you search out male opponents, hoping to find someone ‘special’?” I asked.
“Yes, I did. But I never found anyone that could match you,” she replied. “In addition, it was especially difficult for me to know your codename… Agent 11… and realize what it meant. By the way, I hope that information is accurate,” she told me, her hand now beneath the table, groping my crotch area firmly with the palm of her hand.
“Yes. Your information is correct. I’m a size 11,” I replied with bated breath, as she continued her grope. Reluctantly, I pulled her hand away, asking that she tell me more about herself.
“All right. But first, tell me… did you try to locate a female for your wrestling pleasure?”
“Yep, but it was a fruitless search,” I sighed. “There’s no one quite like you anywhere.”
“Likewise to you,” she replied, leaning over and kissing me hard on the lips. After a few minutes of kissing and groping, we came up for air, sipping the champagne a bit more.
“You know… maybe we should just do what we both know to be inevitable,” she stated matter of factly. “We can sort out the rest afterwards and see whether we truly belong together. Or, are you reluctant to trust me?”
“I trust you for the most part, but the spy in me tells me to reserve that trust to a certain degree. However, with certain restrictions, I’d be thrilled to wrestle you in a rematch. And, you’re right, why deny that which we both want desperately. Just as long as we sort things out afterwards,” I told her.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “But what kind of ‘restrictions’ would there be?”
“I’ve fantasized about this moment for a long time, never imagining it could come true… that you would really be here as you are now.” I paused a moment to collect my thoughts. “There must be no chance of smuggling any weapons into the wrestling area.”
“Done,” she replied easily. “I desire no weapons… only an even wrestling match between us. But what is your real meaning here?” she asked carefully.
“Obviously… we must wrestle in the nude. In that way, I can’t possibly be ambushed by a killer bra or exploding panties, or whatever,” I told her, half joking, half not.
“Surely you jest about the panties,” she replied. “They’d be much too dangerous to wear. But as for the nude wrestling match, that would suit my desires as well… But I have certain restrictions in return.”
“And, they are…” I inquired.
“As always, I enjoy a good, competitive match,” she replied. “I propose a pure wrestling match between us… a real competition between us… a test of our strength, intellect and skill…”
“And not a crazed fight to the death like last time,” I finished for her.
“Yes, while stimulating, that is no longer my desire. I wish for us to test each other fully on the wrestling mat. For a true test of wrestling skills, I have found that nudity is best, so… your plan is a good one.”
“Happy to accommodate you. But you’ve said little about restrictions. What did you have in mind?” I asked again.
“Just a true competition between us… with no hair pulling,” she teased, showing off her short tresses.
“And no knees to the groin…” I countered.
“Of course! I’d never forgive myself now if I injured you that way! And… no breast squeezing, either!” she replied.
“Done, I’d hate to damage your incredible breasts! And, speaking of which, no breast smothers, either. And no choking or sleeper holds, too,” I continued.
“Obviously! This time it will be a wrestling match and not a brawl! I have just one more condition, then,” she told me.
“Which is…” I asked.
“We wrestle one round only, continuously with no resting, until one of us totally submits to the other.”
“I want it no other way, as well” I concurred.
Petra grinned from ear-to-ear as she continued. “Let’s make things interesting, then. The loser must totally submit sexually to the winner, doing whatever the winner wishes for a period of 24 hours.”
I realized that the working doctrine here was ‘mutually assured sex,’ for which I was ecstatic. I grinned widely in return. “Done. Unfortunately, I am staying upstairs here at the Waterford, and there isn’t much room to wrestle. Because of my assignment in West Germany, I’ve rented my house here to a nice older couple. So, it is occupied for the time being.”
“My room at the Westgate is too small, also. Surely there must be some place we can go,” she pleaded.
“I didn’t mean that we had no place to go… only that my home is unavailable. I anticipated how our meeting might progress, and made other arrangements. I work out at a dojo that is now closed for a time. The owner has graciously consented us its use for the night.”
“That’s you, isn’t it? You’re the owner!” she chuckled, somehow seeing right through me. “Are you a sensei, or something?”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” I told her. “I just need a place to train. But it’s just right for tonight… plenty of room, a wide-open area with no obstacles, and no objects or weapons of any kind. Plus, large, padded mats cover the entire floor surface.”
“Perfect!!” Petra exclaimed excitedly. “What are we waiting for?”
We rose abruptly to leave. I threw down $25 to cover the cost of our champagne plus a handsome tip, and we headed out the door. The dojo was only a few minutes walk, which had been my main reason for staying at the Waterford Hotel in the first place.
We walked hand-in-hand down the sidewalk together, which seemed odd for two people who had once tried to kill each other, and were now about to start throwing each other around in an attempt to dominate the other. But that is what made the moment special. If we didn’t now care for one another, we’d never have held hands as we walked. My level of comfort rose, and I could tell ‘Petra’ felt similarly. Then she asked a simple question, probably a test of my feelings for her.
“Do you still have my scarlet red brassiere?” she asked. “You do know it was my favorite, don’t you?” she teased.
“Yes, I still have it. And, it is my ‘favorite’, too. I keep it in my bedside table, as a reminder of you, and that incredible fight we had.”
“Just checking,” she said. “That was my most important test of your true feelings for me. I wanted to know whether it was more to you than a spoil of war.”
“And did I pass,” I teased as we walked up the steps of the dojo.
She kissed me hard on the lips as confirmation. “Silly man. But this is where all the mushy stuff ends, at least until our match is over. From this point on, the only thing between us is wrestling.”
“Perhaps this was meant to be… Attaché versus Attaché,” I said to her softly, remembering her similar words to me all those years ago when we first fought.
She smiled at the reference. We stepped through the door, and locked it behind us. We stripped off our clothes silently and tossed them into an adjacent office area. Petra told me, “No talking during the match, except for things relating to submission. One of us must admit their total submission to the other.”
“Fine,” was my only reply.
The well-lit room was very large with a mat area of about 20 feet by 40 feet - plenty of room! Petra moved towards the opposite end of the mat. Her buttocks were firm, swaying slightly to and fro just as I remembered from all those years ago. Only this time, she was totally naked as she walked. Then she turned to face me and we walked out to the center mat area to begin.
My manhood was as hard as a rock, and I felt her gaze upon me. In return, I watched her breasts shimmy and sway back and forth as she approached. Then her face became serious, and I realized that I had best get serious myself, or this fine woman would beat the crap out of me. And, subconsciously I knew that I must defeat her here and now in order to keep her. I became very serious indeed, as me moved towards a clinch to begin the match.
We extended our hands for a test of strength, trying to gain a new a measure of the other’s talent and ability. We struggled, clasped hands to clasped hands, forcing the action to all corners of the mat. Our bodies quickly became sweaty as we fought, at times making full frontal contact as we tested each other. Her breasts brushed against my chest, while my manhood prodded against her crotch area.
As before, just like all those years ago, I was again completely sexually aroused by a wrestling contest with this strong, beautiful, and capable woman. It satisfied me greatly realizing that her strong, pungent female scent was heavy in the air around us. The sexual frenzy I felt was again two-sided!
We had tested each other long enough. Petra feigned a dirty move, pretending a kick to the chest, then broke free of the handclasp, ducking behind in my confusion and applying a standing hammerlock. Petra twisted my left arm viciously behind my back with one arm, while locking her other arm around my neck from behind. My back arched as she applied ever-increasing pressure. The pain was intense, but nowhere near my threshold. At this stage, her tactic would be to wear me down, forcing me to struggle overly hard to extricate myself. And… it was working. I had to exert myself to keep the pain at a manageable level, while trying to position myself for a possible escape maneuver. My break finally came as Petra’s footwork became entangled momentarily, allowing me to twist free and fling her away for an escape.
Petra smiled as we regrouped to face each other a second time. She was clearly in her element and enjoying herself immensely. I grinned back, realizing that I was in my element as well.
We were done testing the other for now, and didn’t extend our hands this time. Petra tried rushing me, reaching for my leg to upend me. It was a big mistake on her part. I quickly reached my right arm around her neck and captured her in a reverse headlock. Petra grunted loudly as I applied pressure to the hold. She struggled hard, but I was not going to let her free easily. It was my intention as well to wear her down, making a submission more likely later on.
We were all over the mat, still standing, fighting away. Her face must have been positioned perfectly for a close-up view of my throbbing manhood, as she spoke for the first time during the match.
“Your codename is well deserved, Bryce,” she grunted quietly from below.
I replied by increasing the pressure of the hold. She cried out in pain, and I let off a bit. Petra had anticipated correctly, and broke free of the hold. I managed to trip her up as she spun free and we landed hard on the mat. Petra was on her back, and I landed on my belly, our heads just a foot apart, sprawled out in opposite directions. I quickly took advantage and again wrapped my right arm around her neck for another reverse headlock. But this time, I was the one with the view. My face was buried in Petra’s massive breasts as I applied pressure to her neck. She probably could have countered by smothering me in her breasts, but she followed the rules, and didn’t take advantage, instead using her hands to try to reduce the pressure of the hold. And, in return, I resisted the urge to nuzzle, fondle, lick, or whatever, her bulging breasts. That would come later, and I could be patient.
We rolled around back and forth for a time, before Petra finally broke free. We rose to our knees to face each other, and I could see she was a bit less energetic now. Nevertheless, she managed to throw me face-first to the mat, and grab me in a headlock. Then she rolled us over so her back was to the mat and I was laying on top, facing away from her, still in a headlock. The next thing I knew, her legs were wrapped around my waist, squeezing with ever increasing pressure. It was a ‘anaconda’ hold… and very expertly applied!!
I grimaced in pain from the dual pressure of the headlock and the scissors lock. Petra was very, very strong, especially in the legs and thighs! I struggled futilely for a time, and then decided I’d slow down and conserve my strength for later. I was certain she couldn’t make me submit from this hold, and decided to grin and bear it. Petra’s breath was hot upon my neck as we struggled, arousing me ever more. Finally her grip loosened slightly and I managed to twist around to face her. Her legs were still around my waist, but my arms were now free and I managed to pry the scissors open. Our legs naturally entwined as we now clutched at each other with our arms, rolling back and forth, loosing any semblance of strategic thinking, just wanting to overpower the other and get them down. It was both chaotic and pleasurable as we rolled around wrapped up in each other… struggling intensely.
Finally, I broke free and rolled her over, face down on the mat. I sat upon her naked rump with my own naked rump and pulled both of her arms behind her in a painful surfboard hold. Petra gasped loudly as I applied pressure repeatedly, arching her back ever more painfully. It was possible she might submit from this hold, but I didn’t allow myself to believe it. I knew Petra had a high tolerance for pain, and wouldn’t give in easily. I yanked time and again pulling her chest up wildly, releasing hard and flailing her mammoth breasts hard against the mat. But one time, Petra twisted her arms as I flailed her against the mat and my hands came loose from hers. She quickly twisted her body, knocking me off her to the side.
I rose to my knees, but wasn’t quick enough as Petra came up behind me and pulled my arms back behind me for a double armbar… a very similar hold to the one I’d just had her in. We were both kneeling, Petra behind me applying pressure to my arms. Turnabout was definitely fair play I realized as I shouted out in pain. Still, despite the intense pain, I wouldn’t allow her to make me submit… at least not from this hold. I then realized that the possibility of defeat had crept into my mind. I resolved not to think that way again and redoubled my efforts. I had to defeat her!!
Petra was a very, very skilled wrestler, and I had my hands full dealing with her. The double armbar hold she had on me was very painful, but not inescapable. If I fell forward, a Surfboard hold would no doubt result, and I didn’t want that. I managed instead to put my feet under me and rise to a standing position. As Petra rose to meet me at this level, I spun free of her during her momentary poor foot positioning.
Now we were standing, both catching our breath and shaking off the soreness in our arms. We staggered towards each other, determined not to give the other a moment’s rest. Our bodies came together hard as we clutched at each other, trying to throw the other down by any means available. I managed to trip her slightly and she staggered away from me before regaining her footing. I grabbed her from behind and managed to put her in a full nelson. Memories of the full nelson in our previous match, seeing her bulging breasts in the mirror, flooded my senses. Unfortunately, there was no mirror now, and I could only use my imagination to envision Petra’s bulging, straining breasts.
She grimaced in pain, and I knew she was weakened… but so was I. We had taken quite a toll on each other, but I resolved to outlast her. The action continued to various parts of the mat as she tried vainly to get free. But then my manhood inadvertently pressed against the crease between her buttocks, and we both gasped at the sudden eroticism. Without realizing it, I had released Petra, and she was staggering away, rubbing her arms and neck area, recovering from the hold.
I starred dumbly at her for a moment, and then Petra went on the attack quickly throwing me to the mat and ensnaring me in a waist scissors. I grimaced in pain as Petra expertly applied pressure to my waist. She was probably strong enough to extract a submission from this hold, and I resolved to resist with all my strength. My arms worked frantically to reduce the pressure, occasionally doing some good. Petra was in the driver’s seat, and she knew it. If she could maintain the hold, it would just be a matter of time. Finally, I managed to twist my body until I faced her - Petra was on her back below me, trying futilely to apply more pressure. But now her thighs were on my sides… not an effective way to apply pressure. As we struggled like this further, Petra released pressure momentarily, inadvertently lowering her rump against my still bulging manhood. Again, we both gasped at the sudden erotic surprise, and she unintentionally released me.
I quickly spun around to grab her, but Greta was reaching at where I’d been, loosing her balance and falling headfirst towards my crotch. A momentary thought flashed across my mind, but I quickly put it aside - there’d be time for that later, assuming I could defeat her now. Quickly, I wrapped my legs around her head… her face was full against my naked, throbbing manhood, and I tried not to think about it. Petra struggled mightily, trying to spread my legs apart and free herself. I was too badly distracted to properly use the hold to force a submission, so I quickly repositioned myself for a figure four head scissors. At least now, her face was no longer pressed against my manhood, and I could apply tremendous pressure to her neck and head area.
Petra was done for, but she resisted to the last, finally gasping out her submission, “You’ve bested me in a fair contest, Bryce. I’m yours to do with as you wish.”
I released her and lay down next to her, and massaged her neck gently. “Let’s make love here and now. I have plenty of other ideas of how to fill the rest of the 24 hours you owe me.”
And with that, I rolled over on top of her, taking the dominant position. It wasn’t long before we were both totally spent. Afterwards, we lay together on the mat on our sides, facing each other.
Petra spoke first. “You know, I nearly had you a few times.”
“Yes,” I replied. “But you didn’t.”
“No matter,” she replied evenly. “I’d like a rematch, perhaps once the 24 hours of submission is complete?”
“Certainly. Fine with me. Anytime at all,” was my pleasured reply.
Changing the subject, Petra asked, “I assume you are still a spy.”
I didn’t have it within myself to lie to the woman I now planned to marry. “Certainly, and you, too?
“Yes, it is all I know to do… all that I am good at…” she replied.
“I’d take exception to that…” I replied with a wolfish grin on my face. “But seriously, it is all I know as well. Unfortunately, I’ll be returning to West Germany on assignment in a few days. Will you come with me?”
“I must return as well. But now that we are on the same side, perhaps we should work together.”
And that was how it went - Agent 11 teamed with the infamous 97D, we joked to ourselves. And we made an effective team against the Russian and East German aggressors.
Our wrestling contests were frequent - often as real-type matches, but sometimes in more erotic matches with unusual rules, which kept things very interesting between us. Fortunately, I was able to beat Petra about 60% of the time, which kept both of us happy. I think Petra needed to be thoroughly dominated from time to time, as did I!
[Author’s note: Any similarity of names used in this story to actual persons was unintentional and purely coincidental.]