Bashka Humiliates Fran
By JamesM

Bashka: We wait in the room for the other couple to come in after getting changed. John wears just a t-shirt and shorts. I am wearing an over-sized pale blue t-shirt and underneath it I have on a royal blue and gun-metal grey Speedo tankini which I will wear for the contest. We are both slightly nervous about this match and I stretch to touch my tourquoise painted toes with my matching painted fingertips to cover my own nervousness. From what I have seen so far, Fran looks much more of a challenge than Sarah was. I am a tall woman at 5'10 with very pale skin, fine shoulder length straw coloured hair (tied into pigtails for this fight), blue-gray eyes, high cheekbones and thin lips. I have what I like to call an athletic pear shaped figure with thick muscular legs and hips and a thinner top half that is never the less pretty toned. I have a slight tummy, but I am in pretty good shape for my 38 years and look younger I think. My measurements are 34B-30-38, I weigh a little over ten stone and have size 9 feet in US. I have always been self conscious about my big hands but in a fight like this, where punching is allowed, that will be an advantage. I straighten up and smile at John. We kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth. At that moment, the door to the room starts to open...

Fran: I enter the room first with my husband, James, in tow. I feel embarrassed because it looks as if I have interrupted a private moment. No matter. I am anxious to get down to business. James and John exchange a polite greeting and stand aside while I assess my adversary. I am a bit older than Bashka at 45, but I look great for my age. I stand five feet eight inches tall at about 134 pounds, with short brown hair and brown eyes. I have worked hard for my figure and show it proudly. I sport muscular arms and shoulders as well as toned, strong thighs. My skin is still tanned from the summer sun. But, for a brief moment I wonder if it was wise to challenge this woman - she poses an intimidating figure and is both taller and heavier than I am. This match will come down not only to skill, but strength, and Bashka has far more of both than Sarah, who proved to be an easy opponent. Bashka's muscular legs in particular worry me a bit - I definitely do not want them wrapped around my waist or head. I make a mental note that I have to play to my strengths and use my kicks to keep her at a distance and hopefully wear her down. Five falls could prove to be a lot to manage against this fair-haired fighter, the tanned brunette against the pale blonde warrior. This will be a true test of my skills as a TaeKwonDo black belt, though I am aware that Bashka has some kicking skills of her own. I slide my slender feet out of my flip-flops to reveal my purple-painted toes, which match my fingernails, cut short for the match. I then pull off my sweatpants and tee shirt to reveal blue bikini bottoms and a black sports bra. I hope the sight of my lean, muscular frame causes Bashka to worry a bit, too. Without a word I toss my clothes to James, who gives me an anxious nod and I turn to you, arms raised in a fighting stance, "shall we?"

Bashka: My eyes narrow as the tanned American woman strips off to her fight gear. There is little to choose between us in terms of size and weight. The match will be determined by strength, skill, stamina...and will to win. Right now I have a lot of the latter but I bet Fran does too. One of us will end up humiliated in front of our husband by a beautiful stranger before we are done. I don't know a lot about Tae Kwon Do, but I watched some of it at the Olympics knowing this was coming up. I assume Fran will be wanting to keep her distance to kick me, especially kick me in the head! I know she is a black belt so I expect my own kicks won't be as fast or as accurate as hers. My plan is pretty simple: keep my guard up high to protect my head; block when she kicks if I can; and counter attack with simple, fast side and angle kicks to her thighs and hips hitting them with my shins or my knee Muay Thai style. Then I will try to close as quickly as possible to trade punches, knee her or grapple. Hopefully after some hard kicks to her legs she'll lose some of her speed and power, then we'll be playing my game not hers. I smile at the thought of that! When she challenges me I don't say anything. I just pull my t-shirt over my head revealing a long toned torso just slightly slimmer and less muscular than hers, hand my t-shirt to John and ball my big hands into clenched fists and put them up in a high guard and respond to her with a simple nod. I advance towards you ...

Fran: Finally I get the chance to see what Bashka is made of. You advance quickly and I back up a bit to put some distance between us. Your stature is impressive with your guard up high. I am circling you in my bare feet, hands up but with wrists and fingers loose, looking for an opening. Our men are watching intently but quietly, not wanting to break our concentration. I want to attack first and set the tone. I use one of my favorite techniques - your guard is high because you think you know what's coming. I quickly rotate my hips and deliver a high roundhouse kick towards your temple with my right foot, but it is a fake. You raise your guard up higher to block, but I pull my kick at the last second without making contact. As your arms are up high to respond to my kick, I quickly re-chamber my leg and fire my instep into your exposed side. My foot lands with a hard smack and I see you wince, but briefly. I get some measure of satisfaction at having landed the first blow, but your aggression is now unleashed. You advance on me more quickly and deliver a hard kick to my right thigh. You have quickly figured out that you must disable my dominant leg early on, and I am not accustomed to defending against kickboxing-style techniques. Your bare foot lands hard with an audible crack and I cry out! I feel like my leg was hit with a bat, and I stumble sideways. You take advantage of the fact that I am momentarily off balance and drive a punch towards my face, which misses and glances off my shoulder - but this is enough to make me fall. I decide to go with it and let you move in - as you go to dive on me I quickly turn on my side - I bring my knee almost to my chin and rotate my ankle to power a hard side kick into your toned belly with my heel. My foot and toes are flexed back and I yell loudly as I follow through, holding my strong leg out straight, giving you a look at my bare sole as you stumble backward and onto your rear - I quickly come up and grab your shoulders, trying to pin you to the ground...

Bashka: Fran yells out and her foot explodes into my stomach winding me and knocking me onto my bum. She quickly rolls onto her knees and sits on top of my legs, her hands trying to push my shoulders to put me on my back on the ground. I'm winded and surprised by her eagerness to grapple. Also...Christ she's strong! I haven't got the best position here, but I wrap my arms around the back of her head dragging her head down with me to the floor as she pushes at my shoulders. Then, I plant my feet solidly on the floor and bridge up, thrusting my pelvis in the air to dislodge her from her sitting position, successfully rolling the American woman to my left side. Now its my turn to be on top, her face buried in my not so ample chest, my hands wrapped around the back of her head still. I can feel her hands beginning to work at my arms and shoulders as her legs kick out. Ah yes, her legs..... I need to trap those! My long muscular legs snake out and seek to intertwine with Fran's equally powerful tanned limbs as I try to wrap my opponent up in a grapevine and spread her legs wide underneath me to cement my top position on the American brunette...

Fran: I now regret the decision to try to grapple so early on in the fight. The tough Brit has me in a submissive position and I need to act quickly...but I feel her feet pressing against my ankles and the hardness of her leg muscles as she successfully immobilizes my legs. She is now looking down at me, just the hint of a smirk across those lips. I quickly glance over at James, who looks horrified at the scene, while John looks confident that Bashka is about to dominate this fall. Slowly Bashka spreads her pale legs outward to inflict pain in my hips. I briefly look down the length of our bodies and see Bashka's strong thighs and hips straining against my tanned legs - her legs are incredibly strong and I can see the definition in her leg muscles, but I am flexible and I am able to somewhat withstand the force of the stretch - I save a bit of strength then slowly inch my legs inward, showing this woman the power in my legs, as well. You briefly look surprised that I could force your legs inward, but you have the greater leverage and with a frog-like motion, you jerk your legs, emphasizing your dominant position, making me cry out in pain. I try to force my legs back together, but the strain on my hips and thighs is becoming too much - you look down at me, your face a mask of concentration. You lower your head and caress my face with your pigtails to taunt me. I cannot free myself from your powerful legs! You are winning this test of strength...I realize that I have most of the fight still ahead of me and if I exhaust my legs, I lose my best assets in this battle. I must preserve my strength to kick this woman into submission! With regret, I tap your flexing thigh three times - "Baskha, I submit." You quickly roll off me and stand triumphantly and walk over to John. I get up slowly and walk to James, who massages the soreness from my hips as we turn to face each-other for the next fall...

Bashka 1, Fran 0

Bashka: My face flushed red from exertion I grin broadly to John as I walk back to my corner. I'm beginning to sweat and my ribs on one side ache, but I took the first fall! I learnt Fran can kick much faster than me... and hard too. She's also not stupid, conceding the first fall rather than exhausting herself. But I also learnt I can rock her with my own kicks. Above all I have to fight Fran at close range, even if I have to take some punishment to get there. John and I share a brief kiss before I turn to face Fran again. No breaks and no padding means we will both get exhausted and hurt pretty quickly reducing our striking speed and technique, which suits me just fine. I turn to face the tanned American and advance towards her, my guard up high. She kicks up at my ribs again, but this time as well as guarding my face with my arm, I raise my knee up high and manage to catch her shin on mine and against my thigh, blocking her hard kick fairly effectively. I'm too slow to get my leg down to counter with another angle kick to her thigh, but I shoot a left jab at her nose aiming to follow up with a right cross. But damn she's fast, blocking my jab with her forearm. As I throw my right cross I feel the ball of her heel in my belly again from a front kick, her leg not fully extended. She straighten her leg, pushing me back perhaps three steps and leaving me out of punching range again! I frown, put my guard up to protect my head and advance on her again...

Fran: My legs and hips ache from Baskha's punishment, but I have to use my feet as much as possible while my legs are still fairly fresh. Bashka has figured out my strategy quickly and is protecting herself effectively. I have to get a foot up and over that guard - my push kick has given me just enough distance, but I have just a split second to act before Bashka closes the gap and strikes out with a foot or fist. I quickly pivot and bring my right leg up and over, toes pointed, and deliver a hook kick to the side of her head, snapping my lower leg across my target with as much power as I can muster. Bashka is too slow to block and my bare sole lands cleanly with a satisfying smack! I follow through with a shout and move in. Bashka's pretty head has been rocked and she stumbles sideways and bends a bit at the waist, holdng the side of her head. I wish I'd knocked her all the way down so I could try for a submission hold, but the tough Bashka keeps her feet. I try one more time to knock her to the ground, so I raise my toned right let high and straight, grabbing it behind the knee at the last second to give myself a few more inches of height. I bring by heel down on her back in an axe kick, my heel thumping into her broad back. Bashka cries out, but still does not go down! She is still doubled-over but swings her right fist across her body and lands a backfist strike into my ribs...that big fist hits like a hammer, hurting me and I step back, clutching my aching side. I did not expect her to land such an accurate blow after I just landed two clean kicks! Bashka takes advantage of this opening, shaking off the effect of my kicks and uses her momentum as she turns to face me. Using a classic kickboxer technique, she fires her strong leg at me, executing a low roundhouse. The leg comes in too low to block or truly avoid. She manages to strike the back of my calf with her foot, twisting her body to apply maximum force. The kick sweeps my leg from under me and I go down on my back...

Bashka: Fran's two kicks to my head have truly rocked me! My head is full of a high pitched ringing noise and little white stars pop up all over my field of vision. Luckily my desperate wild defence caught the tired American off guard. John and James are yelling instructions to their two hurt fighters, but I can't hear anything beyond the ringing in my head. As I advance on her, Fran is quickly turning onto all fours, but I swing a low kick from my hips with a loud grunt and my shin slams hard into her ribcage. I swear the tanned brunette's body shudders from the impact. I steady myself, aim and let loose another kick at the same target, but I am too slow! She twists to a kneeling position and grasps my foot and ankle in both hands and turns to face me rising off her knees and sliding her hold up onto my knee. I an off balance hoping madly on one foot as she rises to her feet, slightly bent forward, grasping my leg under the knee with both hands. I lean my body forwards grasping the back of her head with both hands, pulling her head down as my vision starts to clear. I yank my trapped leg down hard, trying to get it from her solid grip but I am held firm by my rival, as we are locked in stalemate. If I could get my leg free, I could start to knee her from her bent position in the chest and belly...

Fran: I am caught by my foe in a dangerous position. I have control of her powerful leg but the tough Bashka has a merciless grip on the back of my head. I bend a bit lower which gives the blonde Brit more control of my head, but allows me to hug that leg closer to my body and try to quickly figure out what to do. That muscular leg is whipping powerfully, trying to be free and I have control at the moment, but it's only a matter of time before I lose my grasp. Her leg strength will outlast my arms. If that happens, it leaves her with control of my head, with my body at close range. My ribs are already aching with intense pain from Baskha's hard kick and my midsection could not withstand repeated knee strikes, especially from this woman who knows how to deliver them with the precision and power. I decide that the only thing I can do is try to knock her over, get some distance between us again so I can fight her my way - on my feet! But I know I'm going to have to let go of that leg. I spread my legs apart to get better balance and leverage, planting my feet flat on the floor - I can tell that Bashka is momentarily confused. I then let go of her leg and power forward with all the strength I can muster, grabbing Bashka around the waist and pushing her backward on the floor. I was lucky - I caught her off balance and she falls hard on her back, losing her wind for a moment while loosening the grip on my head, allowing me to pull free. I foolishly decide to try to capitalize on this moment while I am in a dominant position, almost kneeling between Bashka's legs. I pull my arm straight back to my waist and unleash a straight punch into her belly, trying to completely knock the wind from her lungs. But she regains her senses quickly and I see a fire return to her eyes - before I can react, the danger is realized...I see and feel Bashka's thick legs quickly rise to grip my waist on both sides, those strong thighs seeking the vulnerable area below my lower ribs. I try to back out of her scissors before she can lock me in, but her bare feet have already crossed at the ankles behind my back, her turquoise toes flexing with effort as she looks at me intently and slowly begins to squeeze...

Bashka: This has been a hard round for both us, each taking tough punishment. Finally I have Fran on the ground and my legs around her waist as she kneels in front of me. I gurn as I cross my ankles and squeeze with all the power my thick muscular thighs possess. I see the tanned American gasp with pain. John is shouting "Squeeze!" James is shouting for his woman to inflate her lungs. After the initial shock tough Fran is far from helpless, she struggles to her knees and her hands go to my ankles. Visibly suffering between my thighs I feel her hands on my ankles trying to prise them apart. I sit up on my bum reaching for her neck to pull her back down with me, but she is panting on one knee now, out of my reach. With a triumphant "Yes!" from James a visibly tired Fran pulls my locked ankles apart and starts to rise to her feet...

Fran: I rise slowly, the long strong legs of Bashka having sapped some of my strength. This latest punishment confirms what I have known since the moment I laid eyes on those limbs - that they are a dangerous and powerful asset to her in this contest. She has already used them to gain one submission and very nearly just gained a second. It was only through sheer will that I was able to separate her feet and free my waist from Bashka's merciless squeeze. I was lucky this time but if she gets those legs around some part of my body again later in this fight, will I be so lucky again? No time to think about that now...As I rise I suck air into my lungs that Bashka's thighs deprived with their anaconda squeeze.I take a moment to massage my aching ribs, bringing a grin of satisfaction to Bashka as she rises as well. She knows she has hurt me and is succeeding in wearing me down. John looks a bit disappointed that his sexy woman could not secure a second submission, but he knows Bashka has made a point with her legs - I crushed you once and will try to crush you again. The psychological effect is almost as bad as the pain in my sides. Now that I know what this woman is capable of, especially with her legs, I have to resist the fear that has creeped into my brain and try to press on. James just looks relieved that I was able to escape the hold. We stand again, our bodies glistening with sweat and advance on each-other once more...

Bashka: I'm pleased that I hurt Fran but annoyed that I couldn't score a submission. Fran is certainly tough and determined, probably as strong as me too! She is a bit faster in a standup fight but I'm better on the ground. We're both sweating and breathing heavily now, but I can tell she badly wants to even the score. And to get to her again I need to get past those legs! John yells encouragement to me as I put my guard up high to protect my head and advance. With a snarl Fran tries to repeat the success of her hook kick to my head but I raise my arm to guard my head and my knee to guard my ribs and block it successfully. Breathing heavily I'm slow to get my leg down and as she follows up with another kick on the opposite side I can barely get my foot down as I raise my other hand to guard my face. "Ughhhhhnnnn!" She kicks me sickenly hard in my already throbbing ribs as I cry out in pain from the kick, bending slightly at the waist and stumbling to the side, dropping my guard to protect my side...

Fran: Now is the time to try to turn this match around in my favor. I have rocket the tough Brit's torso with another roundhouse kick, and now I have her on the ropes. But I only have a second or two to act as I know Bashka is quick to recover. I'm going for a back roundhouse kick to her head, a tough technique but one that should prove effective - if I can land it. As Bashka stumbles sideways to clutch her stinging side, she has exposed her head once more. I think back to my hours of training and think, this is what it comes down to! I pull my arms close to my sides, my hands balled into fists, making my body a tight rope of muscle. I pivot, winding my body like a top and spin counter-clockwise towards her exposed head. I then unleash my left leg with the full power of my body behind it, extending it straight. I look back over my shoulder at the target and shout! My foot is pointed but at the last second I flex my painted toes back to catch the side and back of Bashka's head with the ball and arch of my tanned foot. The kick lands cleanly with a hard smack and Bashka goes down on all fours, trying to shake the cobwebs off. John is shouting for her to get up while James is shouting to finish the job. I'm not so skilled at wrestling but I can do some simpler holds - like scissors! I leap forward and straddle Bashka, her head down with her still on all fours. I am standing with one leg on either side of her pretty head, facing the same way. Before she can pull away I cross my feet and start to exert pressure on Bashka's temples and ears with my lithe legs. I hear Bashka's groan of pain and frustration. I flex my inner thigh muscles, bringing a hiss from her lips. Bashka's big hands clasp my calves in an effort to pull them apart and free her head. Her hands are very strong and she almost succeeds, but leverage and leg strength is on my side, I raise on tiptoe and run my hands down my smooth, hard thighs. I grin at James and he nods back approvingly, calmly telling me to not let go no matter what. John is shouting at Bashka, that she is the better woman, to hang on and try to throw me off. But the hands are pulling more weakly now and Bashka is fading just a bit. I reach down and caress her sweaty forehead, wiping some strands of straw-colored hair from her eyes as I look at her pigtails hanging straight down, almost motionless. I squeeze my head scissors with more pressure to seal my domination of this fall, my leg muscles standing out with angry power. I can tell James is loving this, while John is increasingly horrified. Bashka and I have barely spoken since this match began but I lean forward slightly, towards her wheezing skull, "had enough, sweetie?"

Bashka: Shit! Shit! Shit! The back of my head throbs in pain, it feels like my head is in a nutcracker and virtually no blood is getting through to my brain. I grab the American's ankles and try to prise them apart but to no avail. All I can see in front of me is her man beaming and yelling encouragement to her. Her scissors are brutal and I'm fading fast. I could keep resisting but I could easily do some serious damage to myself. The American plays with my fringe and taunts me from above. Grrrrrrr! I take my hand away from her ankles and slap her taut bulging tanned thigh three times. I say "Give Give!" through gritted teeth, but I know what I have to do next round. I need to turn those solid thighs to useless jelly with hard shin kicks and knees like I did in the first round.... then we'll see who the better wrestler is.....

Fran 1, Bashka 1.
Fran: I peel my sweaty thighs off Bashka's head and step away. I'm glad I managed to even the score with my foe. I stride past James who brushes his fingertips across my belly and whispers, "nice." I glance over at Bashka, who has since gotten to her feet and is rubbing her temples. John gives her head a brief caress and nudges his woman towards me for the next round. Bashka seems calm, determined and bent on revenge. She approaches quickly and immediately fires a kick at my right thigh. I almost avoid it but the top of her foot lands with a hard smack. Ouch! My thigh is stinging but I am still balanced. I'm trying to figure a plan of counterattack when Bashka leaps forward and again kicks my right thigh, this time with her hard shin. My thigh feels as if it has been hit with a rod. This woman kicks so hard! This blow causes me to stagger a bit and my right leg is deadened - I won't be able to kick with it for a few moments. I decide to strike out with my left leg, which is not as fast as my right. I turn sideways and try a side kick with my heel, driving my foot hard, fast and straight towards Bashka's belly, but she catches my foot and pushes me backward. I stumble back but do not fall, but already Bashka is upon me. She lunges forward and wraps her arms tightly around my upper shoulders, hugging me tight to her sweaty body. Suddenly she forms her right leg into an upside-down "V," toes pointed, and drives her hard knee into my ribcage. I howl with pain as the strong leg drives into my side. I can't let her land another blow like that! I manage to free an arm and start pushing up on Bashka's chin, craning her neck back. She is briefly surprised but does not lose focus. Again the knee drives up and into my side. John is shouting "again!" and Bashka grunts with effort, driving another blow up and into my aching ribs, which explode with pain once more! As the leg comes up again, I give up trying to push on Bashka's chin. Instead I drive my arm downward - she lands another knee strike to my ribs, again causing me to cry out in anguish. But I catch her under the knee before she can bring her leg all the way down, causing her to lose her balance. Her arms still wrapped around me, we both tumble to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs...

Bashka: We fall to the carpet on our sides facing each other my pale blond ying to Fran's tanned brunette yang. She still has my knee crooked under her arm. As I bend forward to reach to free it she snakes her free arm around my neck. After a brief struggle I free my leg from her grip but she brings her now free hand up to join the other and catches me a tight side headlock. Showing more wrestling skill than I expected, Fran rolls back onto her bum dragging me with her on all four my pigtails hanging loosely. Quick as a flash her thighs are around my bruised ribs and she locks her ankles and starts to squeeze. I gasp in pain but inflate my lungs with air to decrease the pressure. She beams up at her man James who is grinning pounding his fist into his palm telling Fran to make me beg again. But I won't ... at least not easy. John is yelling at me to get free but getting free of her headlock / body scissors combo will take time and all the while Fran's muscular legs will be looking to crush me. Moving deliberately and slowly I begin my counterattack, my hands reaching for Fran's under my chin to try to pull her hands apart to free my head, so that I can at least sit up. It seems what James told us at Fran not being able to wrestle at all may have been a slight exaggeration...

Fran: For the second time in just minutes I am squeezing Bashka with my legs - first her head and now her waist. James is shouting, "that's it, babe, crush her with those legs!" My ankles crossed, I point my toes towards the ceiling and pull back on Bashka's throat. This causes my legs to lengthen, extend and squeeze with more pressure. We are facing sideways so our men can get a good look at us. I know James is enjoying my domination of this supposedly tough woman. She's no pushover, but I was able to ensnare her so easily with my legs, I'm starting to wonder. I hope John is getting a good look at my tanned thigh muscle as it flexes and squeezes his woman's fair waist, inching inward to force the air from her lungs and causing her lower ribs to ache with pain. I adjust my sweaty thighs a bit to make sure, as Bashka did with me earlier in the match, that I am putting pressure in that softer area, just at the bottom of her ribcage. Again I flex and squeeze and Bashka moans with anguish at the new, intense pressure, sweating and gasping, desperate to escape. John tells her to hang on, that I'm not that tough and that she has to work her way free. James shouts in response to just keep squeezing. It is now a battle of wills, but my legs are starting to quiver slightly with effort, showing a bit of exhaustion. I think Bashka can sense this and she reaches to my hands to separate them. I actually give up the neck hold fairly easily and instead try to pour all my strength into my body scissors, flexing my legs and throbbing my inner thigh muscles against Bashka's ribs with all the power I can muster. She sits up with a jerk and I almost lose my scissors, but I re-lock my slender ankles and try to keep her captive in my strong thighs. I continue to squeeze as the battle wears on - both of us are drenched in sweat. Bashka is breathing hard through clenched teeth and I have raised myself off the floor on my hands to increase the leverage in my scissors, my leg muscles standing out with effort as I try to crush her once more. Bashka is stubbornly fighting my scissors by inhaling as deeply as she can while trying to tighten the strong muscles of her torso to resist the pressure. Either she will submit to my leg domination or she will try to find a way to escape - I think I know the answer but I lean forward a bit and whisper in Bashka's ear, "submit, Bashka? You can't get free." But she shakes her head vigorously, "No!," those pigtails whipping back and forth. She is obviously determined to escape somehow...

Bashka: The tanned American taunts me again whispering in my ear. She is quite handy on the ground with her scissors I have to admit. And her scissors hurt. But I WON'T submit! I get up on one knee, facing both men, my head turned to Fran's feet. I grab both Fran's ankles and start to get up to my feet, both Fran and I panting with effort. Our bodies are slippery with sweat, so her legs begin to slide down onto my belly as I rise. With a triumphant grunt, I pull those tanned ankles apart and stand facing away from the men looking towards from Fran holding her ankles. Fran looks worried, she should be! Both men are yelling, I don't care! IT'S MY TURN NOW! I yank Fran's legs by the ankles, her hands on the mat are pulled away and she falls onto her back a short distance. I drag my opponent by the ankles a few feet across the carpet towards the men, I want them both to see this. I'm hurt, I'm exhausted but I have a point to make to all three of you. Keeping Fran's ankles in my hands I turn her around onto her belly, turning to face both men sweat streaming down my face. I grin broadly at my John, who grins back .... I think he knows what I'm going to do. I even grin at James as I step back and hook his wife's ankles under my armpits. Then I just let my bum drop, hard, on Fran's lower back, eliciting a surprised Yelp form her, and pull back on her legs, her ankles still under my armpits, bending them double as I bend back towards her head, executing an old fashioned Boston Crab on my American opponent. Fran lets out an anguished moan of pain..

Fran: The tough Brit has proven once again that she is not to be underestimated. I tried with all my might to squeeze another submission from her, but she outlasted my tired legs and managed to free her waist from my crushing scissors. She has quickly turned this contest around and put me in a hold I have never experienced, but she has executed it with skill and speed. I am shocked that she was able to pull it off with almost no time to recover from my powerful hold on her torso! She bounces hard on my lower back with her solid, firm body and pulls back on my legs, causing incredible pain to my spine and stretching my thigh muscles to their limit. I have no idea how to escape! TaeKwonDo has plenty of techniques while you are standing, but I have no training in how to free myself from the hold that the sexy Bashka has now performed. I briefly think that if I can just free a foot from her grasp I may be able to land a blow to her face, but her leverage is superior and her arms are very strong. Both of my ankles are trapped in a separate vise - even the pressure Bashka is placing on them under her arms with those broad shoulders is causing me pain. I try to look back over my shoulder as my face is rubbed in the carpet. This is humiliating enough in itself. Bashka senses my gaze and looks over her own shoulder and down at me, a look of calm satisfaction and dominance on her face. She knows she has me. I try to flex my legs down, to see if I can get my ankles to budge even and inch from their prison, but the sweaty Bashka has me good. Again she pulls back and I howl with pain, the pressure on my spine becoming too much to bear. I cannot give Bashka any further satisfaction and I also want to spare James the sight of his woman being so completely dominated in this hold. I also do not want to give John any more pleasure in seeing his Bashka bend me further back, to torture my body so completely. I shout my submission and pound the floor with my fist three times. Baskha releases me and stands up as I curl up into a fetal position, trying to get my spine to curve back the other way while also trying to rub some feeling back into my thighs. Bashka nudges my low back with a bare foot just for good measure, as if to say "take that," and walks back over to John to receive his embrace...

Bashka: I strut over to John. Grinning at James who, truthfully, isn't bad looking in a preppy white teeth and tanned Brooks Brothers kind of way. Underneath however I'm really really tired plus my ribs and my head ache. I expect I will be covered in bruises from my shins all the way up to my tits tomorrow, all courtesy of Fran. I get to John and he goes to embrace and kiss me. I push him off and turn my face, to be honest wrestling makes me quite horny but I really need to finish this fast. I glance over at Fran and I can see she is still on all fours struggling to get up. A look at James' face tells me he is really worried about his wife. Good. But another couple of hard kicks to my head or my ribs and that could be me down there. I need to finish this while I can. We've had the usual short break and if Fran isn't up yet...well, that's her problem. I rush at her just as she rising and as James shouts a warning, but as she half turns I leap and grasp her around the waist in a rugby (american football maybe?) tackle taking away her legs and her wind as she hits the carpet hard on her side. I am on my knees quickly astride her hips pushing the struggling American's chest to the carpet with my hands and then using them to push down at her shoulder blades to keep her down as I shuffle up to the small of her back. Both men watch us struggle from the side, John calling out encouragement triumphantly and James yelling panic stricken instructions. I guess Fran will know a few more wrestling holds after today I think, as I reach down and cup my hands under her chin. Following James' instructions Fran is trying to pull my hands away from under her chin with my own, but its no good she's too slow... I yank back on her chin mercilessly pulling the whole of her chest off the mat and lean back myself to bend her into almost the shape of an L crippled and fallen on its side, which is kinda the way I want to leave my rival! I figure after a Boston Crab has hurt her back she won't want to suffer long in a Camel Clutch. As I yank back again on her chin, bending her back some more my dirty blonde pigtails almost shake with pleasure and I give James another big dirty grin...

Fran: Unnnnngh!! I haven't had time to recover and once again, Bashka has me in her grip! Through a haze in my mind I know that if Bashka wins this fall, she is up three to one and is the decisive victor - it will be pointless to continue the match. I will be forced to beg for mercy and ask her to end it, leaving me open to whatever humiliating task she wants me to perform in front of her man. We have both fought so hard and are so evenly matched, it should come down to a fifth and final fall. As it was at the start, it will then be clear who was the better woman! But I am getting ahead of myself - I must first try to escape this hold and force another submission from Bashka to even the score and set the stage for our final conflict. My back already hurting from the Boston Crab, I try to bend forward to resist the intense pressure, but there is no way that will work. Bashka's grip is too strong and my trunk too exhausted to resist much longer. Then I remember a little trick from my days in TaeKwonDo - not all our techniques involved our feet! I make a hard point with the knuckle of my right index finger. I find the top of Bashka's right hand and press it against the top of her palm with as much force as I can. I start making little circles into the top of that big hand, pressing it in - hard! I can tell Bashka feels pain, as she cries out with surprise and her hand begins to lose it's grip. All I need her to do is release one hand! She can no longer stand the pain and is forced to let go. John is shouting to grab me again and James is telling me to throw you off. I quickly yank the other hand from under my sweaty chin and arch my back powerfully upward. I manage to unseat you and you fall clumsily to the floor beside me. I have only a second before you can get up and set upon me again and if that happens, I will be finished. I quickly scramble perpendicular to your body and raise my leg as high as I can from a seated position. I flex my foot back and down it comes like a pile driver onto your belly! The sharp point of my heel drives the air from your body with a rush. Your hands cross in front of your torso but I grab one wrist and yank it off, pinning it to the floor beside my ass, leaving you at least partially exposed. You are trying to suck air into your lungs. Again my right foot comes down and I yell, "saaaahhhhhh!!," striking your belly with a loud thud! I raise my leg a third time, my bare foot poised to strike and shout, "submit, Bashka and we'll finish this!"

Bashka: Uhhhh! Will to win...will to win...will to win. As Fran stops kicking me to issue her ultimatum I'm turning my battered body towards her. She knows I won't submit now and down her leg comes again, her hard muscled calf seemingly exploding on my aching side like an iron bar. Got... to...keep... fighting. Weakly, I push her leg off and try to pull my other arm free but Fran has a vengeful fire in her eyes now I can see, eager to repay me for the suffering I have been giving her on the carpet. She won't let go of my wrist and pulls me close into her grabbing one of my ponytails to pull me towards the lycra bikini bottoms now damp with her sweat. Hey is that allowed? Her back to our men, neither can see. I find myself woman-handled face first about eight inches from Fran's sweaty bottoms as her hard tanned thighs close around my ears. I can tell when she locks her ankles as my head feels like its caught in a nutcracker. The pressure is intense! I am on my belly now facing Fran, one of my arms still extended and held firm by her at the wrist. Got...to...keep.... I shuffle forwards using my one free hand for balance, pushing with my shoulders. I manage to tuck my knees under my body now, but I wonder if my face has turned purple yet? Both men are yelling but I can't really hear them. My whole universe is just me and Fran, Fran and me. One of us will conquer and the other will be conquered. Got ... to... I rise using my knees to leverage myself to a kneeling position, pushing Fran backwards. My hand goes to your calf and grips it tightly, managing to alleviate the crushing pressure just a tiny bit. I feel the American shift her position to roll to her side to try to pull me down, but I take that chance to wrench my hand free from her distracted grip. Got...

Fran: The stubborn Bashka would not submit despite the hammering of my foot into her body. Her toughness is unbelievable, but we are both at the end of our rope. Regardless of the number of submissions each of us has, I don't think I can survive another hold and I don't think Bashka can, either. Luckily I was able to enwrap her head in my strong thighs once more, but my legs clearly lack the power they had earlier in the match. My hope is that she loses her will to fight on before my legs lose their squeezing power altogether and become like jelly on the floor. Our men can sense that the fight is near the end, as both are shouting hoarsely at us, but we'll finish this battle on our own terms. The room has become unbearably hot from our bodies and even the carpet is damp with sweat. My face is a mask of determination as I try for one more submission. Bashka's arms are free and are now pulling at my legs, more strongly than I would have expected. Her head is further back now, nearer to my feet and I just can't put as much pressure on her skull as I must if I hope for her to surrender. If I can topple her over, maybe I can increase the pressure a bit more...but it is too late. Bashka has separated my feet and is now breathing heavily on her knees, her face flushed with effort, her head free of my grip. I want her to stand up and face me - maybe my legs have a few more kicks left in them. But I need time to recover in my corner with some words of encouragement from my man. Foolishly, I turn my back on my foe before I attempt to stand. In those brief seconds, Bashka has scooted forward on her rear. A pale strong leg suddenly whips around my right side, forming a triangle around my torso, thigh at my right, knee in front, calf at my left. I am reminded that Bashka at five feet ten inches can easily get one of her long, muscled legs all the way around me! I'm on my knees and try to stand, but Bashka just pulls back, holding my body in place. I hear James shout, "No! No! No!," as he can sense that the match is now all but lost. I look to my left hip and see Bashka's pointed right foot - as soon as I can understand what's happening, her left leg has hooked around that foot and ankle, bent at the knee. Bashka has trapped my waist in a figure four body scissors, a hold from which I cannot hope to escape. Bashka has understood that her legs are too tired to squeeze me in a straight, classic body scissors, but with some leverage, she can squeeze the last of the fight out of me with this hold. Bashka leans back and grasps the instep of her left foot, pinching my sides in her deadly triangle with those long legs. I wail in pain and horror, unable to free myself from her tight grip. Now it is she who taunts me, nibbling at my earlobe and whispering into my ear with her hot breath. "Give up, babe. The longer you hold out, the longer you'll be worshipping my body when this is over." I feel her sweaty tankini against my back and try to hang on, but she flexes her legs agaisnt my ribs and squeezes the breath from my lungs, pulling back even more on that bare foot. John knows his woman has edged out a victory and is telling her to just keep squeezing and eventually I will either give up or pass out. I look over at James and he looks upset and disappointed, but knows I have fought hard against the tough Brit. With the slighest nod I know I have his consent to give up...I wheeze my submission, "OK Bashka...OK...enough."

Bashka: I am exhausted, but elated. I lean forward like a drunk putting my armpit on top of Fran's tanned broad shoulder, letting my hand dangle in front of her sports bra and my mouth is close to her ear as I pant. Her body shivers a little, maybe she will cry but I doubt it somehow. My other slender but toned arm I raise in the air my forefinger extended acknowledging my victory. My John is clapping and hollering, even James is clapping politely but he looks concerned for his tough wife. Oh yes, her. I know this could have so easily gone the other way if I had been floored by Fran's head kicks or submitted to her brutal scissors. But it didn't, I beat her and now I'm going to make sure neither of James nor Fran forget it. For a while there is just one goddess and three worshippers in this room. I say hoarsely in Fran's ear "You are mine now. Get down all fours." She starts to move to comply. Exhausted and battered I get up one knee and turn to the boys, I'm smiling but firm "You two shut up. This MY moment". I'm horny as hell, I always am after a fight, and I plan to have my ass on the sink, my legs apart and my panties dangling off one ankle shortly, but I want to scratch a little fetish itch I have and make a point first. Fran is bent low, her knees and elbows on the carpet. I walk over to her slowly, turning so I face the men. Then I plant my big foot square between the shoulder blades of her broad tanned back and strike a double bicep pose, my lime sized biceps bulging in my arms. My calves are big naturally and my powerful thighs top off my fearsome appearance. I look both men straight in the eyes, I can see they both have really obvious erections tenting in their shorts. I hold my pose for a good minute letting them both drink in my tensed muscular body shining with sweat. Then slowly I turn my head to first kiss one of my biceps then the other. The whole time I am doing this the room is silent except for the shallow panting still coming from myself and Fran. Both men's' eyes bug out at the sight of me. Then I put my arms down, take my foot off Fran's back and walk over calmly to face her bent head. I put my hands on my hips, look down at her and lift one touquoise nailed foot about two foot off the ground hanging suspended in the air in front of Fran. I break the silence "Suck my toes, then lick my soles clean, first this foot, then the other."

Fran: I cannot believe I let this happen, but it has. The sexy Bashka stands above me, her bare foot on my back, gloating for the men. Drops of sweat drip from her body onto me, onto the carpet. My sweat drips off my head, too, but does not have far to go as I am down on all fours, beaten by my foe. I thought that perhaps she would simply strike her victory pose, which she earned, and let it go at that. But a moment ago when she whispered that she would force me to worship her body, I knew more was in store. She now stands before me, victorious, and wants me to pleasure her while sealing my humiliation. I want to run from the room, but the tough Brit has beaten me fairly and now I must take my punishment. I insisted on this match, after all. I almost had her, too, but Bashka's ground game was just a little better than mine. And as I feared from the beginning, when I first set eyes on those muscular legs, I knew that they would play a major role if she emerged the victor...which she has. My whole body is hurting, especially my ribs, which were twice subjected to the merciless squeezing power of those thighs. Now she is commanding me to worship her bare feet. I hesitate beneath her, but I sense that she is getting impatient and repeats her commands, but more sternly this time. I have never done this before, but I must pleasure her to her satisfaction. Technically the match is not over until she excuses me as her beaten opponent, and I must worship her feet first. I cradle her heel in my left hand and raise her polished toes to my lips. In the back of my mind I am just thankful that she decided to wrestle in bare feet - I don't think I could bear to remove a pair of sweaty wrestling boots and then tend to her soles. I kiss each toe, but then Bashka fans them, commanding me to place each one in my mouth separately and suck. Her foot is big, but slender and shapely, making the task just a bit more tolerable. On the other hand, I feel even more humiliated that I must worship these same feet that kicked and punished me earlier in the match. I suck each toe until Bashka commands me to move to her sole. I lift the foot a bit higher. I notice that, even though we were wrestling on the carpet, her sole bears a little dirt. I shiver at the thought of licking the sole clean, but I must. Bashka flexes her foot and toes, ordering me to go, and slowly, from her heel, over her soft arch, all the way to the area beneath her toes. "Clean them good, Fran. John will want these feet nice and clean for later," she laughs, at my expense. I nibble a bit at the ball of her foot and she giggles with pleasure, warning me not to tickle her, though, or she might be tempted to kick once more. I obey. After a few minutes I ask if I have done enough. She twists her foot to examine the sole and says indeed, the job is satisfactory. But with a grin she raises the other foot and says, "one to go," wiggling her turquoise toes inches from my face. She says, "I think I'll relax for this foot." She slowly reclines on the floor, resting back on her elbows, gazing at me with a look of keen satisfaction. I kneel before her, raising the other foot first into my lap before raising it further to my lips. Again, Bashka fans her bare toes to allow my mouth full access. I suck them. I have a glance over at John and it looks as if he is about to crawl all over himself watching his woman's feet worshipped by her beaten opponent. James doesn't exactly look upset, either. What's done is done, but how could he not be enjoying the sight of the sexy, strong Bashka being worshipped by his woman? Bashka leans back and moans lazily, running a hand over her sweaty head as her pigtails hang loosely. I move to the sole, again cleaning the dirt that was ground-in by our hard fought battle. I note that the other muscular leg lays flat on the ground before me. While one hand is supporting the foot I am worshipping, I move the other to the leg that lays flat and begin to massage. Bashka is instantly enjoying it. "Ooooh, Fran, yes. Good thinking, slave!" I grimace. "Keep massaging, then do the other while you're at it. My muscles are sore from squeezing you and beating you into submission!' A flicker of rage creeps in, but there is nothing I can do. I run my hand slowly from her shin to her thigh, pressing and kneading her muscles. She flexes it for me once more - it is thick and bulging with fearsome power, and rock hard. I'm frankly lucky she didn't break my ribs with her scissors. When she has inspected my cleaning of the other bare foot, I move to the leg, again kneading, massaging, worshipping her sexy, strong thigh muscles, working the soreness out, trying to pleasure this worthy opponent who has dominated me.

I ask, "anything else, mistress?"

Bashka: Mistress? Really, what the fuck? Fran plays the subserviant role a little too well, I wonder momentarily about her exact relationship with her husband. But no matter that's not my concern. I let Fran wait as I tuck my long legs under my body and rise to my feet, towering over my kneeling tanned former adversary. Her shoulders and biceps are nicely outlined after massaging my thighs and she is a powerful woman. I'm just lucky her grappling skills are so one dimensional, but that's not necessarily a static thing. I chew my lip before responding, thinking about her offer. I think she's done enough...she fought me hard. Besides, the massage she gave my thighs has just turned me on more so I'm aching to lock myself in the bathroom with John. I take her short hair in my hand and pull her head back to look up at me. "Your forfeit is over and you are both free to leave. When you're ready I would be delighted to discuss the terms of a rematch with you. I suggest you need to work on your ground game." Then I let go of her head and smile at John taking his hand. His erection bulges unmissable in his shorts. As we walk to the door I stop to give James a quick peck on the cheek. He looks embarrassed and mumbles, glancing sheepishly as his kneeling wife who looks over still kneeling with a face like thunder. I have no doubt James' loins burn with desire to be taking John's place right now, but everyone loves a winner don't they?