DOUBLE OR NOTHING
by Lakewood Matt
"And so, the Cleveland Browns beat the Cincinatti Bengals by a score of 28 to 14..." the announcer's voice boomed from the television. I raised my fist in victory, having seen my team win and having won myself twenty dollars in the process.
I turned to my losing compadre and said, "Twenty dollars, I win, pay up!" Her name was Christina, and she
looked none too pleased about the way things had turned out. Grabbing her purse, she fished out a twenty dollar bill and tossed it onto the bar, visibly perturbed. "I can't believe I lost, oh, this sucks!"
Her body was nearly shaking with anger over her misfortune.
Christina was a longtime friend of mine. Drinking buddy, sports fan and all around nice girl. Except when it
came to competitive pursuits. Then her whole demeanor changed. She became combatative, confrontational, even ruthless. I had known this about her for as nearly as long as I'd known her.
Whether we'd be playing darts, shooting pool, or placing a bet on a football game as we'd just done,
Christina had to win, all the time. If not, it got to her something fierce.
I figured I would try to placate her, to try and cheer her up a bit. "Well, let me buy you another beer..." I
said. "Don't worry about it, Matt," she replied, "any more beer for me and I'll just really get riled up." I frowned
and said, "Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, C.C." That was what she liked to be called,
C.C. I never really understood why. Her first name was Christina, but her last name didn't start with a C,
so it never made sense where this came from. Christina was an attractive brunet, standing about five foot nine, with long straight black hair, and was of an athletic build. She had broad shoulders, well
toned arms, and a pair of legs that could have been those of a dancer, sleek and muscular. In short, she
was a real knockout.
"Look," I said, "how about we hold off on the twenty this week, and just make it double or nothing for next
week." It was really bothering me that losing a simple bet was getting to her this way. "You're trying to patronizeme, aren't you?" she said, and accusatory look in her eye.
"Not at all," I replied, "just trying to keep things fun. You do still like to have fun, don't you?"
She didn't reply, but took a long sip of her beer. I could tell she was thinking hard about something, but I
wasn't sure what. Just then, a wicked gleam came to her eyes, and a sly little smile crossed her face. "I'll make you a counterproposal," she said. "Let's do double or nothing, but in a contest of MY choosing, what do you say?" This caught me off guard,but if it would ease her mind and make her feel better, I'd be game.
"Sure," I said. "What do you have in mind?" "Wellll..." she started, "you know that athletic club that I'm
always working out at?" "Yes, what about it?" I replied. "Well, how about you meet me down there Friday night at about 7 pm, and we'll have ourselves a little showdown, just you and me. Feel like a challenge, Matt?"
She was grinning like a Cheshire cat now, waiting for my response. I didn't know what she was up to, but
the gauntlet had been thrown down, there was no backing down now. "You're on!" I said. What could be so bad about this? I thought. A fitness club? Maybe she wanted to shoot hoops or see how many situps
we could do or something like that. This will be a cinch, I thought.
:"Great!" she said. "I have to go now, but I'll see you Friday night at 7. And make sure you wear some
loose comfortable clothing, something you can move in, ok?"
"Fine," I replied, "Friday night it is." Something in the back of my mind was telling me something wasn't
right, but I ignored it. What could go wrong, I thought?
That Friday night, I showed up at the fitness club, wearing my favorite sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants.
I noticed a couple of things right away. Number one, there was nobody there except for women, dressed in workout clothes. Secondly, instead of things like aerobics and such going on, there were a bunch of
wrestling mats laid out on the floor, and the women who were there were sparring, wrestling and they were
good at it too from the looks of things. I wasn't sure what was going on here, but I knew I'd find out soon enough.
Right away, I saw C.C. doing some stretching exercises. She was wearing a low cut tank top that showed
off her impressive shoulders and arms, as well as a bit of impressive cleavage. She was also wearing a tight pair of black trunks, which showcased her long, muscular legs. Her feet were encased in a pair of high top sneakers. As I started walking towards her, she spotted me and came running up. "Glad you made it, Matt!" she said, a big smile on her face. "Hope you're ready for some action tonight!" My curiousity couldn't wait anymore, and I had to know what the deal was. "C.C.," I said, "what's going on here? And what does all this have to do with our bet?" "Well," she replied, "every week, me and the girls here engage in some one on one wrestling, and we get
pretty physical about it. And as you can see, we're pretty exclusive. No men allowed. But tonight, we're
making an exception. You. I thought it would be interesting if you and I had our own little match. You versus me."
You could have knocked me over with a feather! C.C. wanted to wrestle me? It was just so unexpected!
And I didn't think she would want to take on someone like me. Granted, she was in very good shape, having spent her life as an aerobics instructor. She also had a very good build, being into weightlifting.
But I stood about five inches taller than her and had at least a good hundred pounds on her. But here she
was, challenging me to a wrestling match.
"Uh, C.C., are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, hoping this whole thing was some kind of put on.
"You bet you're life I do," she said, "I want to win this bet, and I'll do whatever it takes!" The competitive side of C.C. was coming out now, and I wasn't sure if it was a side I wanted to be matched up against. Not that I was scared of losing, I mean, how could I lose with my size advantage, but I definitely didn't want C.C. to get frustrated with another defeat. But I was into it now, no turning back. C.C. motioned for one of her friends to come over, a tall woman who definitely was a weightlifter by the looks of her. "OK, Clutch, ready to beat some respect into him?" she said to C.C. "Clutch? Why did she just call you Clutch, C.C.?" I asked.The other woman just looked at me and laughed. C.C. looked at me rather sheepishly and said, "Well, that's what my nickname stands for, C.C., Camel Clutch. It's my signature wrestling move, and I've always gotten my wins with it." "That's right," the other woman chimed in, "in fact, Clutch here has an unbeaten record of 24 and 0 with every win coming from her using the Camel Clutch. And guess what, you're gonna be number 25!"
This was just getting more and more bizaare, I thought! I knew what the Camel Clutch was, I had seen
enough wrestling in my life to recognize it. But again, the idea that my smaller friend would be able to get me in a position to use it was just unfathomable.
It was time to start. C.C. and I walked to the center of one of the wrestling mats and faced off.
Her friend would act as the referee and she began to give us our instructions.
"OK, the two of you will wrestle for thirty minutes," she said, "wins are by submission only, or by knockout if
one of you loses consciousness." Loses consciousness? I thought. That didn't sound very good. "Each win will
count as one point. Whoever has the most points at the end of the thirty minutes will be the winner of the match. Understood?" C.C. and I looked at the ref, and nodded.
Then we looked at each other. C.C. had an evil little smile on her face, and was rubbing her hands together as if
she was about to have the time of her life. Before I could realize why she looked so happy, the ref yelled "Go" and it was on.
C.C. lunged at me full speed, and before I could get my hands up into a defensive position, she had me
snared in a side headlock. The first thing I noticed was that her arms weren't just toned, they had some power. Her muscles clamped around my head very tightly, and she was hanging on like a pit bull. I tried to wriggle my way free, but before I could start to get any leverage, she took me down to mat, hanging on to her headlock. The other women had gathered around the mat, and were cheering C.C. on.
It was obvious they were looking for a one sided beating, but I was bound and determined not to let it
come to that.
C.C. twisted around on me and changed her headlock to a front facelock, facing towards me, and
wrapping her arm under my chin, with her weight on top of me. Again, I tried to get some leverage and get to my knees, but her weight was distributed on me in such a way that I wasn't able to. After a few minutes of this, she twisted me over onto my back, and released her hold, but quickly trapped my head between her thighs. Her headscissors were nearly overwhelming me with her strength, and I could feel the blood being cut off from my head. My hands pulled and yanked at her thighs, trying to force them apart, but they were like two steel beams, solid and unmovable. She then began jerking her hips from side to side, shaking my head as if it were
in a noose. I was really taken by surprise by her technique and ferocity. Not to mention her ability.
This girl could wrestle like a pro!
Finally, I was able to get to my stomach and started raising up on my knees, her legs still wrapped around
my head all the while. Just as I started to get to my feet, she yanked violently downwards, throwing me down to the ground on my belly. Her legs then unlocked from my head, and for a few seconds I was free.
Before I knew what was happening, she had stood astride me, grasping my wrists in her hands, and
planted her right foot squarely in the middle of my back. She then leaned back, employing a surfboard move against me. My arms and back felt streams of pain shooting through them as she pulled on them. I grunted and tried to get free, but her grasp was solid. And then, just like that, she released me. I didn't know why. I hadn't submitted, so why would she just let go of a painful hold like that? I would soon find out in just a few seconds.
As my arms fell down by my sides, I lay on my stomach trying to regain some strength before she could try
anything else on me. Too late. She sat down on the center of my back, and grasped my arms, pulling
them back and over her knees. I knew what she was about to do to me, but by now it was just
to late to do anything about it. She cupped her hands around my chin, making sure to interlace her fingers
for a more solid grip. Then she pulled back on my head with all her might. The Camel Clutch. She leaned
forward and whispered into my ear, "Gotcha". I was trapped, I was helpless, and I was being
hurt. I kicked my legs wildly, trying to get them underneath me to rise up and buck her off, but it was no
use. She was sitting on me in such a way that my legs weren't going anywhere. I tried to squirm my arms free,
but that wasn't working either, as they were neatly draped over her thighs, and there they
would stay. I even tried reaching back with my hands, looking for anything I could grab onto and use as a
means to leverage myself out of this hold, but there was nothing. She had me, and there was simply no way to
escape. All the while, she continued to torture me, pulling back on me and bouncing up
and down on my back as she did. The pain was excruciating, and I knew I wouldn't be able to take much
more of this. Better to just let her have the first fall, and try and get even in the next.
"OK, C.C., you can let go now..." I muttered through my clenched teeth, hoping the ref heard me. The ref just smiled at me and then looked at C.C. But the hold wasn't broken, and I heard C.C. say into my ear, "Not good enough, Matty, I want to hear you say it!"
Damn! Was C.C. vindictive tonight! "I give! I give!" I yelled.
Finally, C.C. released me, and the pain through my back and neck abruptly ceased.
C.C. got off of me, leaving me to try and regain my composure. As I got to my knees, I noticed that C.C.
had hardly broken a sweat, while I had just been through a grueling experience. This was turning out to be a totally different experience than what I thought it would be! But OK, I thought, she wants to play rough? We'll play rough!
Our rest period was only a couple of minutes, and by the time we were motioned to the center of the mat, I
had been able to shake off most of the pain I had just felt. The ref signaled for us to start once again, and this time, I went on a quick offensive. I grabbed C.C. in picked her up in a bearhug, and started squeezing as hard as I could, hoping to dish out some of what I'd just taken. In response, C.C. wrapped her long legs
around my midsection, squeezing right back. It was a standoff. I knew I was applying some real pressure
to her back, but she was doing the same thing to my midsection. In fact, she seemed to be getting the better of me, as her legs were starting to cut off my air, making it hard for me to breathe. It would be a contest, could she handle pain longer than I could handle not breathing? I knew if I just let her go, she would still hold fast
around my stomach, so I thought of another idea. I fell forward, slamming her down onto her back, with my weight atop of hers.
"Uhhh!" she cried, as the jolt of impact shot through her. Just as I'd hoped, her legs came open. This time,
I got to my feet quickly, and grabbed her legs by the knees and started turning her over onto her stomach.
I turned with her, trapping her in a classic Boston Crab move. I knew I had taken her totally by surprise, as I could feel her writhing and squirming in the confines of the hold. She may have had the advantage on me in terms of wrestling know-how, but I knew a few things myself, and held onto the hold like grim death.
As I bent backwards and increased the pressure, I could hear her begin to wail in pain. I was prepared to
hold onto this for as long as it took for her to submit, because I knew if I released it, she would be coming back at me twice as fierce. After keeping her in this hold for almost two minutes, she finally yelled,
"I give", and I quickly let her go. Now we were even! We both had one win apiece. I glanced up at the
clock on the wall, and realized we had used up a lot of our time. The next encounter between us might be the deciding one.
As she stood massaging the small of her back, I noticed her glaring at me, really angry that I had gotten
the better of her in our last encounter. I knew that I had better be prepared for her worst now, as she was going to be coming after me with everything she had.
Once again, we faced off, and the ref signaled for us to start. "Not bad, Matty..." she said, "it's not often somebody gets me to submit! But you're pay gonna pay for that right now!" This time, C.C. dove right into me headfirst in a flying tackle, knocking me down to my back. She quickly positioned herself atop me, sitting high on my chest and pinning my arms down with her knees, in a classic Schoolgirl Pin position. She then
began bouncing heavily atop my chest, up and down, pounding her backside against my sternum. The
girls who were looking on were once again hollering and cheering for her, looking for blood.
Then, she began to squeeze my head between her thighs. I could feel my face being squished between her powerful quad muscles in her legs. In spite of myself, I let out an agonizing "oooh..." and this only seemed to spur C.C. on. "Awww, does it hurt, babe? Does it hurt?" After a while, C.C. got off of my
chest, got back on her feet, and brought her foot down hard into my upturned stomach. The wind was totally knocked out of me, and I rolled over to my side, trying to catch my breath. C.C. then rolled me over onto my stomach, grabbed my right arm, and twisted it behind my back in a hammerlock. She really applied pressure here, and then, she grabbed my chin in her free hand and pulled back on that, applying another source of pain. With my one free arm, I began to push myself up to my knees, but C.C. would have none of it.
She kicked my arm out from underneath me, flattening me on my stomach once again. Then she released
her grip on both my chin and arm.
Quick as a cat, she mounted my back, taking a seat once more in the center of it. I felt her grab my arms,
but this time, I fought to keep her from putting me in the Camel Clutch again. I struggled with her to keep her from pulling them back, and for a few seconds I did, but unfortunately for me,
the leverage was all hers, not mine. For the second time, I felt my arms pulled back and over her knees,
hopelessly trapped. "Not again," I said, squirming my body from side to side underneath her. "Oh, yeah," she replied, "I know you love this hold, just as much as I love putting you in it!" and as before, she cupped her interlaced fingers around my chin. She pulled back with unbelievable force, and it felt as though my back
was about to break. But there was no way I would give C.C. the satisfaction of giving up in this hold.
Back and forth she rocked on me, pulling and relaxing her grip on my head. As before, I tried everything I
could think of to get free, straining to free my arms, bucking wildly like a bronco, twisting my head to try and dislodge her hands from my chin, but C.C. knew her hold well, and had me trapped. "Struggle all you want, Matty," she said smugly, "you're not getting out of this! I've gotcha right where I want you!" I didn't
know how long I could hold out, with C.C. holding me like this, but I steadfastly refused to admit defeat.
"How does this feel, Matty?" she said condescendingly. "Do you like the way it feels when I sit on you? Do you like what I'm doing to you right now?" I didn't reply but kept trying to fight my way out. "Why so quiet, Matty? Cat got your tongue?" Even though I was in agony, somewhere deep inside of me, I realized this was kind of turning me on. C.C. continued to taunt me: "Tell me you love my camel clutch, Matty. Tell me you love it and maybe I'll let you go..." "NO!" I defiantly shouted. Big mistake. "Then suffer, my poor pulverized friend!" she replied!
And then things got worse. C.C. leaned forward on me and whispered in my ear, "Nap time, darlin'" and
released her hands from around my chin. But she then wrapped her arms around my head and neck turning her
Camel Clutch into a combination Camel Clutch/Sleeperhold. Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse! Now her tightly toned arms were like pythons around my throat, beginning to cut off the flow of
blood to my head. I knew that if I didn't get out of this, I'd be a goner. So, I bucked, I flailed, I used every
bit of energy I had in my body to break free, but it was hopeless. As her arms constricted tighter and tighter around my head and neck, I could feel my consciousness beginning to slip. "Nighty night, Matty," I heard her say, as she continued to squeeze the life out of me. I began to panic. I can't let this match end like this! I had to get free! I had to stay awake! I had to...Before I knew it, I was rendered unconcious in her arms....
The next thing I remembered, I came to, lying on my back on the mat. The crowd of women who had been
watching were now standing around me in a circle, gazing down on me. C.C. was sitting on the mat next to me, watching me too. As she saw that I was waking up, she said to the others, "OK, give him some air." The girls broke up, giggling and talking amongst themselves.
I sat up slowly, but the pain in my back was as intense as ever. C.C. had really done a number on me.
"How ya feelin' champ?" C.C. asked. My head was hurting too, probably from having the blood supply to it
cut off. "Like I've been fed into a vice," I said. I didn't try to put on a front, pride be damned. I'd just had my ass handed to me, and C.C. knew it.
C.C. offered me a bottle of water, which I took and began sipping from. "Go home, take a hot bath and
some aspirin and you'll feel better," C.C. said. "It works, trust me, I've been there," C.C. replied.
"So," C.C. said, "how did it feel to get beaten up by a woman?" I looked at her, and realized that she had
asked me that not with malice or mockery, but out of genuine curiousity. I had been the first male opponent she'd ever faced, and she wanted to know what it had been like for me.
"It was an experience," I said. And how!
"Think you'd ever want a rematch?" C.C. asked. "I'm always open to a challenge."
I thought about this for a second. Would it be worth it, going through all of this again?
There was a matter of pride to think about.
"Yeah," I said, "I'd love one." "Well, you rest up, and when you're ready for one, let me know."
C.C. then smiled sweetly at me. "You know, Matt, this was a lot of fun." I smiled back at her and said, "Well, I hate to say it, but I had fun too, C.C. It was kind of enjoyable." She put her arm around me and said, "Of course you had fun! What man wouldn't like a sexy lady wrestler having her way with him?" As we got up, she said,
"Oh and by the way, you owe me forty bucks. Double or nothing, remember?"