Women's Submission Wrestling League

Wanda Cobb versus Judith Bailey By Ring Rat

My name is Wanda Cobb, and I've been wrestling in the WSWL for six years. I'm certainly not the biggest girl in the league, or the toughest, but I'm definitely one of the best. The matches in the WSWL are brutal, and I've taken more than my fair share of punishment. The pay is incredible, which is why most of the girls are here, but not me. I'm here because I love the ring.

There's something about woman to woman submission wrestling that takes me places I can't go anywhere else. When I'm on my game and in complete control of another woman, cranking a figure-four or twisting a tight arm bar until she screams out for me to stop, the feeling is indescribable. Even losing in that ring is better than not being there at all.

Submission wrestling is all I think about. All I ever want to talk about are my matches, how I systematically took Jennifer apart, working her body slowly and surely until her defenses crumbled and she pleaded for me to stop, or how it felt to be caught in Samantha's hangman, my entire body trembling as I feebly begged for mercy. But… There's one night I don't talk about. One night I wouldn't be talking about now if you weren't paying so much for the story. One night I spend every other night trying to forget.

Her name was Judith Bailey, and the first time I hear it was when the ring announcer introduced her. She'd never been in the ring before, leastways not this one, and I knew almost nothing about her. One look at her, though, and I knew this was going to be one of my favorite kinds of matches. She was small, beautiful, and completely out of place. She stood five foot four and couldn't have been more than a hundred and five pounds soaking wet. She was barefoot and wearing a ridiculously small black bikini and her shoulder-length raven hair hung loose. Her body was fit but curvy, athletic but luscious. The sight of her full, round breasts straining at the thin wisp of black material took even my breath away, and as I was waiting for the bell to ring I was consumed with an uncontrollable desire to prove to her that I was the better woman. She was absolutely stunning, and exactly the kind of girl the punters spent five hundred a seat to see taken apart.

And then she caught my gaze, and I noticed the fear in her eyes, and knew for certain that this was her first time in the ring. She shifted nervously, trying not to look at me, her every movement filled with anxious uncertainty. I imagined that she was a beautiful girl with something to prove, maybe she'd heard about the league and felt that she could come here and prove she was more than just a pretty face. Now that she was here, however, it was starting to dawn on her what an enormous mistake she had made, and how dearly I was going to make her pay for it.

I was also barefoot, had two inches and twenty pounds on her, and was wearing a tight red one-piece that complimented my red hair, which I kept short. I was in the best shape of my life; my body was firm, taut and perfect. Where her breasts were full and pear-shaped mine were pert and rose high, my nipples stiff in the cool air of the arena, or more accurately, stiff in anticipation of the coming contest.

With an echoing ring the bell sounded, signifying the start of the match. As with all matches in this brutal, underground league it would end only with only a fevered cry of submission. The more desperate the cry for mercy, the bigger the payoff for the victor; a special bonus was calculated after each match for a job well done. For some girls in the league, though, it was not for the love of money that large bonuses were collected. Although I planned that night to set a new standard, it was not the wealth I prized; rather, it was that each dollar told me in no uncertain terms: “This is how much better than her you are”.

I strode confidently to the center of the ring to meet her, and on reaching it found myself alone; she had not yet left her corner and clung to the rope with one hand as if for her very life. With a grin I lunged into her corner, arms outstretched for her, and she raised her one free hand to block me. Effortlessly I batted her hand aside and with both of mine, grabbed her long, black hair and yanked her savagely. With a squeal she grabbed at my wrists as I jerked her from her corner, shaking her from side to side as I dragged her to the center of the ring. I held her head down low as she stumbled, following me, trying desperately not to fall, letting out a piteous yelp with each yank.

When we reached my destination I stopped, my fingers gripping her hair tightly as I kept her bowed at the waist before me, her hands pulling vainly at my wrists. With a snarl I jerked her head up so that she was facing me, and I looked briefly into her dazed and bewildered eyes before bringing her head swinging down again only to meet my swiftly rising knee. With a dull thud they connected and her head flew back as I released her, her arms spread wide as she crashed to the mat on her back where she lay still, her mouth open wide, and her eyes glassy. The gentle rising of her full breasts was peaceful, her arms and legs splayed, one hand scratching absently at the mat. Twenty seconds into the match and she's out of it , I chided myself silently, I have to be careful. No prize here for a quick finish. I mustn't end this too quickly.

I reached down and grasped her left ankle, lifting it and locking it under my arm with no resistance. For a moment I gazed at the soft milky perfection of her thighs, but then I tightened my grip, raised my right foot, and brought my heel savagely down, into the exposed muscle of her right thigh.

With a terrible shriek she jerked up, instantly lucid, her back leaving the mat as she clutched her wounded leg, pawing at the point where I had struck her. Showing no mercy I hauled her trapped leg high, locked under my arm, until she fell back, her shoulders returning to the mat. She batted at my legs with her fist but with little strength and at a clumsy angle. Relieved that she was at least putting up some fight, I pulled my leg back and then drove it forward, into the small of her back.

She let out a terrible scream, clawing at the mat, and the crowd cheered lustily as she squirmed helplessly in my grasp. I gave them an arrogant smile as I gripped my prize; I would show them how much better I was than this nothing of a girl. With that fire in my heart, I gave Judith another powerful knee to the spine.

She screamed again, experiencing a pain I am sure she could never before have even imagined, and I released her to the mat. She bucked and spasmed, rolling from side to side on her belly, her ass in the air, her hands moving to the small of her back as she moaned weakly. I circled her as she writhed, admiring the results of my merciless attack. I have to pace myself , I thought. Enjoy this .

Judith seemed to gather herself, crawling slowly to the ropes as I stalked her, maintaining an amused distance. She reached up for the top rope and used it to pull herself to her feet; I smiled as the crowd cheered her on, daring her to get up and put on a fight. Please, darling. This will be so much more fun if you try and fight back. I watched as she regained her strength, and couldn't help but be impressed as she straightened up, struggling past the beating I had given her leg and back. As she turned to face me, I locked gazes with her. I glared at her with a truly malicious smirk, which produced a satisfying moment of poorly concealed panic and of course the expected fear, but there was something else there, something I didn't recognize at the time.

I faked a lunge at her and almost snickered when she flinched, recoiling against the ropes. I faked again and she rolled away along the ropes to the corner, and this time there was scattered laughter in the crowd. I lunged a third time and when, as expected, she didn't move, I didn't stop. I crashed into her, rocking her back into the hard turnbuckle as I drove my raised knee deep into the soft pit of her belly. She wheezed explosively as all of the air blasted out of her lungs and she sagged against me, gasping for breath as her recently recovered legs turn to jelly beneath her. Her arms were draped over me as if we were lovers as she labored to breathe, and if I had stepped back and released her she would have crumbled lifelessly to the mat; but I did not.

I reached my arms around her and locked them around her waist. Slowly, deliberately, I stepped backwards, carrying her with me back to the center of the ring, where I stopped, pulling my head back so I could look into her eyes. Once again she impressed me, she was regaining focus, and I could feel strength returning to her hands on my shoulders. Good. I want her to see this coming. Holding her close, feeling the heat of her breasts intermeshed with my own, I smiled, winked, and kissed her, fast and hard.

The crowd went berserk as she struggled in my arms, turning her head away from my kiss and frantically trying to push free of me. With a quick yank I lifted her from her feet, belly to belly, hugging her tightly. As I crushed her smaller body to my own she thrashed in my grip, gasping as I squeezed the air out of her. I bounced her a couple of times for good measure, tightening my grip, and she moaned weakly, her head falling back as her fingers scratched uselessly at my shoulders. Poor thing has no idea what she's doing or what she's in for.

Judith tried to twist away, trying to get free, a rookie mistake that got her nowhere for the precious energy spent. I shook her like a rag doll and she moaned again, her entire body trembling in my arms as my biceps strained against her bare ribs. She tried to dig her hands between us to push me away and her fingers pressed against my stiff nipples. I gasped, incredibly sensitive to her touch, and my grip loosened for just a moment, and she took advantage of that moment. She wedged her elbows between us, her fingers wrapping around my breasts as she drew several ragged breaths, her soft belly heaving against mine.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled my knotted thumbs into the small of her back. She cried out and shook her head in pain, but at the same time she clawed at my breasts. For the first time that night I screamed as her nails dug into the tender flesh of my firm breasts through the gauzy material of my suit and her thumbs mashed my ultra-sensitive nipples. The crowd cheered lustily as we stood locked in the center of the ring, her moans mixed with my screams as I worked her back and she frantically tried to claw her way free. I dug my thumb deep into her spine, feeling her tremble in my arms, but her fingers dug deeper and my breasts were on fire. Her thumbs ravaged my nipples as she twisted my aching breasts and I howled as the agony intensified. Despite myself my grip loosened as the blinding urgency to get her hands away from me took control, but she must have felt my desperation. She wrapped her legs around me, locking her ankles, and looped one of her arms around my neck, trapping me as her other hand continued to ravage the tender meat of my breasts. My legs almost buckled, dropping us both to the mat, which would probably have been the end of me. Her shapely legs crushed me in a powerful vice as her fingers ripped mercilessly at me, and the flimsy fabric of my suit tore away. She clutched my head tight against her and my piteous screams were muffled into her neck, and I could feel her breath hot in my ear as she gasped from the exertion of her efforts. I panicked, releasing her completely and pushing against her hips to get her off me, but she held fast and would not be moved. I staggered around the ring as her slight weight and the blazing agony of her assault took their toll.

Instinct took over and I fought through the panic, gripping her waist firmly and pushing my thumbs deep into her soft belly just below the navel. She quivered and moaned as I worked her tiny belly, pushing my thumbs into her stomach muscles for all I was worth, but she did not release her grip. Instead, she raked my bare breast one more time and then grabbed my nipple between her finger and thumb, twisting it savagely. My screams turned to squeals and I abandoned my attack on her belly, slapping feverishly at her hips, the sound of my fingers on her naked flesh ringing through the arena. I bit my lip to keep from crying out my submission as the searing pain almost overwhelmed me, but I was too experienced for that just yet.

With a tremendous surge I lifted her up, and then brought her crashing down, crotch first into my waiting knee. She let out a terrible groan as she fell away from me, curled up on her side clutching her throbbing groin with both hands. I stood over her, the top of my one-piece in tatters, massaging my naked, ravaged breasts, soothing the blazing fire in my nipples. She had done no real damage but the pain fueled my anger, and I was going to show her what real pain was.

I gave her a brutal kick to the small of her back and she cried out, her body bucking on the mat. I reached down and grabbed her long hair with both hands, jerking her unceremoniously to her feet. She yelped as I tore at her roots, and I jerked her around the ring. She cried out with each tug, trying not to fall, batting pathetically at my wrists. With three huge steps I whipped her into the corner turnbuckle where she landed back-first with a terrific crash. She stood in the corner on trembling legs, her arms draped over the ropes, her perfect, pear-shaped breasts heaving, and her entire body open to me like a Christmas present. I strode into the corner to open my gift.

I gave her a stomp to her left thigh, driving my heel deep into the muscle. She screamed, her legs buckling, but clung to the ropes and did not fall. With a quick step I hammered my heel into her other thigh, and this time she crashed to the mat face first, moaning softly. I reached down and wrapped my fingers around her throat and lifted her, gagging, back to her feet. As her fingers feebly tried to pry mine free, I slammed her back into the corner, choking her and pressing her backwards over the turnbuckle. As she gasped and sputtered in my choke, her back arched over the turnbuckle, her bare feet pawing at the mat, I traced the fingers of my other hand over her luscious, heaving breasts. I was delighted as her nipples rose to meet my fingers, poking through the sheer material of her bikini top. I pushed her back further still as she bucked weakly, gagging and sputtering, and with a twist of my wrist I tore her bikini top away, exposing those perfect, milky orbs to the cool arena air. The sight of her tiny, erect nipples pointing up to the arena lights as she hung powerless in my grip took my breath away, and I brushed my fingertips against them gently, watching them respond to my caress. Judith pulled at my wrist in vain as I choked her and she weakened; I could feel the strength sapping away with each passing moment. I could easily have ended her there, but the moment was too much for me to lose.

I relaxed my grip slightly, allowing her some oxygen so she wouldn't pass out, and her entire body quivered as she took several greedy breaths. With a savage grin I cranked my other hand back and slapped her naked breast flesh, smacking my open palm across her exquisite nipple. She screamed terribly as the pain shot through her, but I was just beginning. Holding her back arched I slapped at her exposed breasts, open-handed lefts and rights pancaking her lush, pear-shaped breasts. She mewled as the pain consumed her, and I continued my assault, my fingers leaving bright red welts in her milky-white breast flesh. She was sobbing now, but I was just getting started.

I took her tiny, erect nipple in my fingers, eager to repay her for my former humiliation, and pinching hard I twisted it for all I was worth. Her scream was electric and her hands shot back to grip the ropes, her body a spasm of pain. Her full breast quivered against my knuckles as her entire body shuddered. Relishing the moment, I released her tortured nipple and cupped my hand completely around her breast; it was soft and warm. Tightening my grip around Judith's throat I pulled her face forward until we were eye to eye, and then raked my fingernails down her breast. She shrieked, her eyes welling up with tears, but I choked her shriek to a sputtering gurgle. I jerked her around so that her back was to the center of the ring, and then took three powerful strides, dragging her with me. As she staggered backwards, struggling clumsily to keep from falling, I used our momentum to lift her from her feet. With one arm I jerked her into the air, and then choke-slammed her to the mat.

She landed with a crash, her shoulders slamming into the mat, her legs flying over her head and flipping her over onto her belly where she lay spread-eagled, her legs twitching. I stepped behind her, grabbing her ankles and crossing her legs, folding them forward until her heels pressed into her ass. I slipped down to my knees, putting my legs outside of hers, her shins wedged into my crotch; through it all she was totally lifeless, drifting on the fringe of consciousness. I reached forward across her body and gathered her long, raven hair in my hands, my elbows resting on her shoulder blades as I pulled it into a ponytail. Slowly, deliberately, I wound it around my right hand and took a deep breath; I was going to finish her off in style. With one smooth motion I leaned back, tugging her hair. As my shoulders moved backwards to the mat I pulled her with me, towing her head back and her body with it. At first she didn't react as her body slowly lifted from the mat, her arms hanging lifeless, her fingertips brushing along the canvas; but as I pulled her all the way back, my arm taut, my shoulders on the mat, her body arched backwards over mine, the pain brought her back to life. She started to scream, weakly at first but building to feverish shrieks as I strained her back and neck to the breaking point. With a sudden shift of my hips I raised her entire body into the air, suspending her magnificent, glistening form for the roaring crowds to see. Her arms flailed wildly as she bucked and twisted, but I held her fast; she wasn't going anywhere until she submitted.

I bounced her a couple of times, intensifying the strain on her back, and her screams turned into a low, guttural moan. Her naked, perspiration-soaked breasts jiggled wildly as her body shook, and her arms dropped slowly as the fight drained out of her. “Give up, you silly bitch” I spat, but she answered only with another piteous moan. “Give up!”

But she didn't.

My arms and legs were getting tired. My muscles complained, and my fingers were slowly losing their grip. Judith was sobbing now, but she wasn't submitting ( why wasn't she submitting! ) and although I was doing a lot of damage, it was at great cost; I was exhausting myself. Cursing her resilience, I shrugged her to the side where she landed in a limp heap.

I rolled to my feet, my arms and legs aching from exertion. Judith lay on her back, her legs and arms splayed; she was done. I just had to make her say it.

I grabbed her hair with both hands and jerked her to the seated position; standing behind her, I reached around her head and locked in a reverse headlock. With a grunt I stood straight, hauling her to her feet, her back arched. She squeaked feebly as I tightened my grip, leaning back and laying the pressure on her neck. Her body stretched backwards and she frantically stepped up on her bare tiptoes in a vain effort to relieve the pressure on her neck; what little fight she had left in her she put into clawing at my arms to get me to let go. Wasn't going to happen.

I shook her voluptuous body like a rag doll, dragging her around the ring. Her perfect breasts heaved as the pain overwhelmed her, her dark erect nipples pointing up to the uncaring arena lights. I was in complete control; she was mine and she knew it, trembling in my grasp. I spun her around three times, just slowly enough so she could keep her feet, quickly enough so that she was completely disoriented, and let her go, giving her shoulders a gentle lift as I released her so that she wouldn't fall.

She took two half steps, her legs wobbly, her arms stretched out for balance. She was breathtaking, and this was turning out to be my most satisfying conquest. Not for the first time, I wondered why she was here. She was too small, to fragile, too beautiful to be in this ring. She was completely out of her element, and slowly but surely I was destroying her. She had no idea what she was doing and it was so easy putting the hurt on her I almost felt guilty. Almost.

She looked up to find herself looking into my hungry glare, and froze. With a savage grin I launched myself at her, stepping low and driving my head into her stomach. She slammed backwards to the mat with a groan, clutching her belly, her breasts heaving and her mouth wide open as she struggled to breathe. I reached down and snatched her ankles, lifting her legs into the air and spreading them wide. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with fear, as I moved my bare foot to her crotch, pressing her lightly with my toes.

Her entire body squirmed as my toes pressed through the wispy material of her black bikini briefs into her, increasing the pressure. She raised her hands and shook her head, her tear-filled eyes silently pleading with me to stop. I moved my foot up, cupping her groin with it, feeling her soft trembling warmth under my heel. She moaned, trying to pull my foot away with both hands, but I had her locked in tight. “Give up quick, bitch” I spat, “'cause this is going to really hurt!”

With a snarl I jerked her legs back, driving my heel into her crotch. She shrieked as I ground my heel into her, her back arching and as she clawed at the mat. She writhed, her body jerking as I pressed my weight into her; her terrible screams piercing the arena as the crowd roared their approval. Her lush breasts shuddered and jiggled as she bucked under my foot, her small dark nipples stiff and erect. She shook her head violently, her raven hair whirling as the tears flowed freely and she screamed herself hoarse. Why won't you submit! How far do I have to take this?

I pulled my foot away and her body went limp against the mat immediately. Her hands moved down to cup her groin as she moaned piteously, massaging herself. With a smirk I nudged her hands away with my foot and pressed my naked toes into her crotch; with a soft moan she gripped her fingers weakly around my ankle but didn't have the strength to push me away. She looked up at me, her cheeks stained with tears, her eyes wide with pain and fear, but… There was something else in her eyes, still. Something behind the fear. Something I had not broken. Something I might not be able to break. I hesitated, my focus wavering for just a moment, and she dug her fingernails into the Achilles tendon of my feet hovering between her legs.

I yelped, hopping a half-step backwards on one foot, almost stumbling. My grip loosened on her legs and she jerked one of them free, pulling it forward. I froze, watching her expression shift from pain and fear to one of grim determination, and gritting her teeth she hammered her heel into my soft, unprotected belly. With a dry gurgle I collapsed to my knees beside her, clutching my quivering belly as I gasped for breath. My tight ass was in the air, the shreds of my suit soaked with sweat, as my face and breasts pressed against the mat; my nipples were swollen and stiff against the cold roughness of the ring floor. I bit my lower lip to keep from vomiting, my entire body trembling as my lungs burned for oxygen, my toes curling.

I have no idea how long I was in that humiliating position, doubled over, unable to move. All I know is that after what seemed to be an eternity, I felt her fingers knot into my short hair and slowly pull me to my knees in front of her. My gaze traveled up her body, her perfectly manicured toenails, polished crimson red; her tiny ankles and soft, rounded calves… The milky perfection of her thighs. Her wispy black bikini bottom, damp with sweat, draped from the delicious curves of her hips. Her delicate belly, fluttering from the exertion of hauling me up. The magnificent swell of her breasts, glistening with perspiration, her small pointed nipples dark and erect. She tilted my head back so I was looking straight up at her, helpless on my knees before her. Panic crept into my stomach as I realized how weak I had become, the muscles in my legs rubbery, and I placed my hands on her hips, feebly trying to push away from her, but it was no good. Her face set with resolve, she twisted my head back and raised her other hand, clenched into a fist. “No…” I pleaded, vainly trying to shake my head free, “please…” Unhearing, she swung fast and hard, connecting with my jaw.

There was an explosion of lights and color, and I sailed lifelessly to the mat. I lay on my back spread-eagled, my fingers and toes twitching, my bare breasts slowly rising and falling as I drifted on the edge of consciousness. I was vaguely aware of her circling me and taking my right arm by the wrist. Then there was the suggestion of pain as she twisted my arm forward, the kind of pain you might imagine is happening to someone else. And then she twisted it further, and the sound of my own screams cut through the fog.

I snapped into the sitting position, my left arm patting at my right shoulder as she twisted my arm; I was screaming like a banshee. She worked my arm methodically, workmanlike, as I sat helpless on the mat, my legs spread into a wide, trembling “V”. “Submit,” she whispered so only I could hear, and I almost did, mouthing the words silently… I submit I submit I submit! “Don't make me hurt you more than I have to.” With that, she twisted even further, and I threw my head back, howling at the arena lights.

My eyes welled with tears as the pain shook through me; it was so overwhelming I was almost sick right there. She twisted my arm mercilessly and I bent my legs, stumbling first to my knees and then finally to my feet. She paraded me around the ring and I could hear the crowd, on their feet to a man, chanting her name: “Ju-dith! Ju-dith! Ju-dith!” I staggered along, trying to keep my balance, waiting for her next move, but her movements were uncertain. She has no idea what to do next.

My arm was going numb, and the pain was less terrible. Her grip on my wrist was slipping, as the sweat from both of our exertions lubricated it. I knew and she had to know, this hold wasn't going to end the match. With a grunt of frustration she did the unexpected; she released me, shoving me to the center of the ring. I took two quick steps and whirled back to face her, my right arm hanging uselessly at my side. She gave me no time to recover, stalking me, her fists raised and ready.

This was going to be trouble. Any relief I had felt when she released the hold was replaced with panic. I couldn't raise my right arm, and she was going to come in swinging. I was defenseless. She quickly closed the distance between us and threw a quick right hand, I hastily blocked with my left. She threw another, which I also blocked, but then a third, which connected with my breast. I squealed and backpedaled, shaken, my breast aching, my nipple tender. She stalked me and I tried to throw a left; big mistake. She caught my left arm with her right and trapped it to her body, keeping it there snug. I tried to jerk free of her as she cocked her left but there was nowhere to go. She drove it into the pit of my stomach, doubling me over; I wheezed and retched, leaning against her for support. Stepping back she released me and I crumpled to the mat at her feet, gasping and coughing, clawing at the canvas. She leaned in close as I lay helpless. “Please submit,” she whispered, her breath hot in my ear, “I don't want to hurt you, but I will, if I have to.”

“Fuck you,” I spat, struggling to my knees.

I felt her wrap her right arm around my neck as she slipped in behind me and pulled me up to my knees. She fell to her back, pulling me with her on top of her, my heaving breasts pointed up as I struggled in her grip. My feet kicked at the mat as she tightened the choke, and as I pulled at her arm she moved her other hand to my breasts. Humiliation ran through me as she traced her fingertips across my nipples, I couldn't contain my guttural moans as she teased and stroked them until they were swollen and stiff. Feeling the warm, full softness of her own breasts against my back, and the sensation of her own nipples stiff against my skin, I felt myself moisten, a warm damp stain spreading across the crotch of my suit for all to see. Despite myself, I was panting under her touch.

As she felt me relax in her grip, as her choke siphoned the fight from me and my body responded to hers, she gripped my swollen, tender nipple and twisted. “Oh, God”! I shrieked, “oh God oh God oh God!” Her fingers were like an iron vice as she twisted and pinched at my savaged nipple, my body bucked and shuddered but I was trapped. Her choke was loose now; she needed me awake to submit. She dug her nails into my breast flesh, tearing and clawing at me, and I wailed, blinded by tears and electric with pain. “Oh god, please please please!”

I cried myself hoarse, until I was left whimpering in her arms, my eyes squeezed shut, shaking my head back and forth. I was completely beaten, utterly destroyed, absolutely at her mercy. She continued her assault on my breasts and nipples, ravaging me, reducing me to a wild animal desperate to escape. With a cry that threatened to rupture my lungs, I screamed out my submission…

“I submit!” I shrieked. “I submit, I submit, I submit, I submit!”

She released me, pushing me to the side where I lay lifeless, a beaten rag doll, moaning and whimpering. She stood quickly, ignoring the wild crowd chanting her name, and left the ring, not looking back. In just a moment, she was gone. As they carried me from the ring, I kept whispering “I submit… I submit… I submit…”

I never saw her again. Never found out why she was there in the first place, that one and only time. Never understood what drove her past pain that would have stopped any woman I have ever fought. Never found out where she found the strength to come back from that beating and tear me apart.

But I've never stopped looking for her.