Underground wrestling (Genderbender and Lowblowemma)

[GenderBender]

'So, Brad, what do you think?'

Brad stared at the photograph of the muscular woman and then at the fee in the draft contract on his agent's desk, win or lose.

'I don't know,' he looked pleadingly at Carol his agent, 'I've never done underground wrestling before. It's a whole different game.'

'Sure, it's different,' Carol agreed, 'but you can adapt. There are just fewer rules. One round until one of you is knocked out or walks away. Just look at you,' she did that a lot, especially when they were alone together at her apartment. 'With all those muscles, you can easily outfight Janet, she's shorter and lighter than you – that's two advantages to start with.'

'True,' Brad was still worried, 'but that means she'll be quicker on her feet, and just look at her muscles, she's strong.'

'They wouldn't put her up against you if she weren't.' When Brad did not pick up the pen, she went on. 'Let's be honest, luv, offers aren't coming in as fast as they used to, there are lots of younger guys snapping at your heels. And offers like this aren't coming at all.'

Brad shrugged, picked up the pen, and signed. What the hell.

 

[lowblow emma]

'So, Janet, what do you think?'

Janet sat across the desk from her agent, Karen. She looked doubtful.

Karen considered her percentage cut of the fee on offer and tried to allay her client's concerns.

'What's worrying you? You've taken plenty of guys down before. This one is no different.'

'I'm not so sure. He's not from our background. He doesn't understand how we fight.'

'That's not going to be a problem. He'll be the one at the disadvantage, not you.'

Still Janet looked doubtful.

'Come on, luv, spit it out, there's something else, isn't there.'

Janet nodded.

'I'm just wondering, why does he want to go underground at this stage of his career? From what you say, he's past his best, but not over the hill. He can make good money without taking risks.'

'He's doing the same as you, storing away a nest egg for when he wants to retire.'

Janet picked up the pen, but then put it down again.

'Come on, Janet, just look at the muscles on that guy, just think how hot it will be when you toss him out of the ring like a rag doll.'

'Yeah,' Janet's face broke into a grin, 'hot, sure, fucking hot, yeah.'

She signed.

 

[GenderBender]

Brad arrived an hour before the start of his fight, to get a feel of the venue and the atmosphere as the crowd gathered. There was no atmosphere – just two or three early arrivals. But he was greeted by Helen, who would be his second. She wore black, which was a theme, black yoga pants and t-shirt. She walked him past the ring.

'There's a wider gap between the ring and the front row,' she sounded like a tour guide, 'because the fight often spills out of the ring. Remember that,' she turned to emphasise the point, as if to a child who might not have been paying attention, 'you're probably not used to that on your side of the sport.'

She guided him through the corridors to his dressing room, a fancy name for a small room slightly bigger than a cupboard.

'Those are your boots and leggings,' she pointed to a small pile on the room's only chair.

Brad examined the soft leather boots and leggings – black again.

'These look fine,' he put the boots on the floor, 'but these leggings look rather small. Do you have a bigger size?'

Helen laughed.

'Don't worry, you'll fit into them,' she ran her eyes down his body, 'and you'll be grateful for the close support.'

Brad was not sure that he liked that, but had no time to question her further.

'The referee will look in at some time to suit her convenience and I'll collect you about five minutes before the fight starts. See ya.'

The referee did arrive at her convenience and without knocking. She walked in as Brad was easing himself into the leggings.

It was no surprise that she was dressed in black – yoga pants again but with a short leather tunic.

'Hi,' she didn't introduce herself, assuming that her status was obvious and her name unnecessary.

'Just saying hello,' her tone was business like, verging on brusque. 'Quick bit of advice – there are no rules and you can carry the fight outside the ring, but try not to injury the paying customers. The boss is insured, but he needs to keep the premiums down. Any questions? No. Good.' And she turned to leave. 'By the way, I'll pat you down before the bell goes. Just in case you've smuggled in a box. You don't have space for one,' she lowered her eyes to Brad's groin, now modestly tucked out of her sight, 'but the paying customers like it. Nothing personal.'

And she was gone.

 

[lowblow emma]

Janet arrived as usual a quarter of an hour before the fight was due to begin, slipping in through a side door to avoid the crowd at the front. She did not need her second to help her change and was happy for her to arrive at the last minute. The ref, of course, would arrive at the most awkward moment, which today was when Janet was half into her leather bra. Unlike last time when she had arrived when Janet had her leggings half way up her thighs.

'Any thing to report?' Janet asked.

The ref shrugged.

'He's big, but you knew that. I am going to enjoy the pat down. I warned about injuring the spectators when fighting outside the ring.'

'What's the word on the street?'

'The betting is heavily in your favour, but there have been a couple of big bids on the guy.'

Interesting. Who might they have come from? It would have been useful to know, just in case there was some trickery involved. You could never tell.

Janet's second arrived just as the buzzer was calling the fighters to the call and the pair set off to make their entrance.

 

[GenderBender]

The start was like the start of all matches the world over. The introductions, the slow walk down to the ring. The ritual reminder of the rules, or lack of rules in this case. Then the referee came over to my corner.

She smiled at me – at least I think that was what it was – as she ran her hands over my back, shoulders, arms and chest, checking that I had not oiled myself for an unfair advantage. Then she ran her hands over my leggings, checking for what I had no idea. Finally, she came to my crotch, which she stroked for far longer than necessary to check that I was not wearing groin protector. A final smile and she stroke across to the opposite corner and gave my opponent the same examination. Janet's face was inscrutable as the ref spent quite a while checking her breasts and crotch.

Finally, satisfied in whatever way she had been satisfied by her inspections, she stepped to the centre of the ring and raised her hand. The bell rang and would not ring again until the fight was over. As she stepped back Janet and I began to move forward.

It happened in an instant, so quickly I barely had time to register it. Janet suddenly accelerated and her feet were flying at my face. I twisted as best I could to avoid the dropkick, but it caught me on the chin, spinning me round. She must have rocketed to her feet, because the next thing I felt was a powerful kick on my ass that propelled me towards the ropes. I prepared to use the ropes to rebound into an attack, but before I could turn, she had grabbed my feet and toppled me through the top ropes.

I saw the ground below me, I saw crowd in front of me, I saw the lights above me, and then I landed, flat on my back, knocking the wind out of me.

The crowd roared.

'Fuck,' I gasped. What had I let myself in for?

 

[lowblow emma]

'Welcome to underground wrestling, loser,' I shouted over the roar of the crowd.

I leaned over the ropes and laughed down at him as he lay sprawled on the floor. It was my right to carry the fight outside the ring and it was so tempting to dive over the rope and bomb him, just to initiate him properly. But the boss doesn't like that. He doesn't like fights to be too one sided or to end too quickly. And he likes to spread the out-of-ring action around so that everyone gets a chance to see some fighting close up.

But, God, I felt so good. I had taken him completely by surprise with a drop kick from the get-go. He's seen it at the last second, but I got a glancing blow and spun him round. Before he knew it, I was back on my feet and delivering a walloping kick up his ass that, with a little assistance, sent him flying through the ropes.

'Was that a bird?' I shouted. 'Or was it a plane?' The crowd were laughing along with me now. 'No, it's a muscle bound loser.'

It had been so satisfying to take down a big guy like him so soon. Time, though, to let him back into the ring and get on with the fight.

And being a sporting sort of girl, I pressed the bottom rope down and held the middle rope up for him to climb back into the ring.

Which just goes to show that experience is not inconsistent with stupidity.

As he pulled himself up, he grabbed my left ankle and yanked me towards him, grabbing the other. My legs were either side of the bottom rope and he landed me on my ass with a mighty pull and leaned backwards, crotching me, rubbing me back and forth along the rope.

God Damn the bastard.

 

[GenderBender]

Was she being genuine or was it a trap? How could I be sure? I couldn't, so I didn't take the chance. She already made me look a fool and I was only to happy to return the privilege.

I sold it well, made it look like I was going to accept her generous offer, but grabbed her ankle, pulled her off balance, grabbed the other, and next thing I was grating her pussy along the rope with the crowd behind me cheering me on. I kept it going for a while, not too long because it gets boring and the paying punters what to see some variety, but long enough to help me get my wind back.

This was dangerous, bringing in some crotch action so early, when she would surely retaliate, but I'd be prepared. I'd made one mistake with this lady and I sure wasn't going to make another.

Which was why I moved in fast. As she was recovering and disentangling herself from the rope, I ran round the side of the ring, slid under the rope and rushed over to confront her as she staggered to her feet with a forearm smash that send her reeling back onto the ropes, then another, and another. They came too fast for her to react, knocking her off balance, knocking her against the ropes.

Time for a change. Drop to my knee, grab her round her knees, quick jerk to pull her clear of the ropes, and topple her and turn her. Up on my feet, drop my knee into the small of her back, hands under her chin, and pull, bending her back.

Good start, we're wrestling now, not playing games, weakening her back for later, dominating her too, letting her feel my power and weight.

 

[lowblow emma]

Shit.

He's not going to win with this move, but he's weakening me and setting up a sequence of moves to attack my back.

I need to get out of this and there is only one way I know. My crotch is still throbbing, but I'll have to ignore that.

Fortunately, he went for my chin. It would have been more difficult if he had grabbed me by my wrists and pulled by arms back.

As it is, he's left my arms free.

I get them under my shoulders and try to prise myself off the canvas, so that I can dislodge him.

I'm strong, but he's heavy, heavier than the girls I normally fight.

I strain but he shifts his weight slightly, putting more pressure over my shoulders.

Deep breaths. Bringing all my strength to bear on my shoulders and upper arms.

This will drain me, but it's the only way.

Muscles searing, shoulders aching.

Barely shifting off the canvas.

Sweating with the effort.

Beginning to think I won't make it out of this hold.

Then at last I get the leverage right.

My tits are clear of the canvas.

Slowly, inexorable, I get my torso clear.

My arms are shaking from the strain.

Just one final heave.

I scream in pain, but the effort is worth it as I manage to topple him off my back. I move away quickly, using my leg muscles.

A quick glance and he half on his knees, so I spin and deliver a kick to the back of his head. He sways and I deliver another, catching him full in this face.

Then I move, fast across the ring and rest on the ropes, twisting my neck to relieve the strain, shaking my shoulders and arms.

I ought to follow up while he's still recovering from those kicks.

I rock back against the ropes to aid my propulsion and rocket across the ring towards him.

 

[GenderBender]

I was shocked that she had been able to escape and is such spectacular fashion. She is serious strong, far stronger than I had thought, to be able to lift someone so much heavier. It cost her though, her shoulders would be aching and her muscles feeling as if they had been torn apart. Not to mention the damage I had done to her back. But there was no time to get distracted. She had the advantage for the moment and I had to keep up. It was obvious she would use the ropes to add momentum. My answer was obvious too, even with my head still spinning and my ears ringing from the kicking she had given me.

My reaction was instinctive, drop back to the canvas. And her response was instinctive too, jump over me and bounce back from the opposite rope. Which I ducted as well. This can become a lot of frantic rushing across the ring by other fighters, each jumping over or avoiding the other. But I wasn't up to that, so as soon as she was heading away from me on her return trip, I followed. And when she turned, I was right on top of her, knocking her back into the ropes and, taking advantage of how she toppled and her arms fell, applying my weight and with a swift pull on the middle rope, her arms were trapped.

I dashed across the ring and threw all my weight at the ropes and propelled myself towards her.

 

[lowblow emma]

He was quick, quick at recovering and quick at thinking. He took advantage of the way I hit the ropes, used by weakened shoulders and arms against me, and the next thing I was tied up and ready to use for target practice. Damn.

But then he blew it. He should have stayed in close, trapping me and preventing me getting free. Instead he decided to make a spectacle of it. Rushing across the ring at me. There was only one move I could make to protect myself, and he should have seen it.

As he stormed towards me, I lifted my leg, at the last minute. He had no warning, no chance to avoid the trap.

My body shook as he impaled himself on my foot, his wedding tackle smashed by his own carelessness.

He went down. No groaning. No swaying or staggering. Just straight down onto his knees and into a ball.

Damn, that was no hot. But I had no time to enjoy the pain he was in. I had to get my aching arms out of the ropes. Fortunately, the ref came to help, and my second. They don't have to, but sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. I'm sure they have orders or get signals, from someone who wants to control the fight, and perhaps the bidding that goes on.

He was just getting up when I was finally free, half way up, bending over. It was too tempting to resist – I kicked him in the face and he fell back on his ass.

 

[GenderBender]

Her foot hit me like a knife, the blade cutting through my nuts and burying itself deep in my belly. My legs gave way, I went straight down on my knees, trembling, gasping for air. Jack knifed and banged my head on the floor.

It's not like you see in the movies or that fake so-called pro wrestling, when the guys stagger around, go cross-eyed, howl, double over, roll about a bit and then carry on as normal a minute later.

This was serious; I was ruined, as a man and a fighter. Lucky for me she was still trapped by the ropes, although I could hear shuffling and groaning, so I guessed someone was helping her out. I needed to be out of the way before she got free. I needed to get myself upright, somehow. I crawled on my knees in the direction of the nearest corner, grabbed hold of a rope and hauled myself onto my feet.

Next thing I was bent in half again, breathing hard. I was just getting myself together again when the foot hit me in the face and I'm down on my ass, with blood rushing down my nose and onto my chest.

I didn't have a plan, unless stopping myself throwing up was a plan.

Thankfully, she presented me with one. Came at me with another kick, swung her leg at my head. I grabbed her ankle and spun her, sending her onto the canvas in a full stretch split. Not as bad as getting knackered, but satisfying nonetheless. I was getting the hang of this underground stuff. It wasn't wrestling, more a brawl.

Well, two could play at kicking in the head game, so I pulled myself up as best I could and swung at the back of her head, smashing her face down onto the canvas. Then I landed on her, elbow in her lower back, just where my knee had been earlier.

 

[lowblow emma]

That kick bought me time, time to get free. I tried pulling and jerking my arms, but I still needed some help from the ref to extricate myself. That won't go well with the spectators; they'll see it as a sign of weakness. Kicking him in the balls will be seen the same way. It's all part of the game, but not this early in the match and not with such force, although that was his fault for running onto my foot.

Anyway, it was worth it to get me free, albeit at the cost of more damage to my already weakened shoulders. But my feet and legs were still fine, so I gave him a kick in his face that put him on his ass. God, that was so satisfying, so satisfying that I tried to do it again.

Bad mistake.

He read me and grabbed my foot, spinning me in a wide leg split. Now any self-respecting female wrestler can take one of those in her stride, so to speak. And if I am anything it is self-respecting, but the force of the throw took me by surprise. So did the kick to the head that smashed me face down.

So here I am, back where I started, almost anyway, with him pinning me down and weakening my back. And my shoulders are still burning, so I won't be using that escape trick again.

Truth is, we both need a break, him to get over the puke-inducing balls ache, and me to get my shoulders back in working order.

But I have to do something. The paying punters don't like slow canvas action. That want something they can see from the cheap seats at the back.

It was when I was turning over the possibilities in my mind that he came up with a plan.

He just took hold of my ankles and started circling with me, swinging and throwing me until I am off the canvas and then he let go.

We have take-off.

To coin another phrase, we have a problem, well I do, where the hell will I land?

 

[GenderBender]

I don't know how I found the strength. My balls ached like they were in a vice and my belly still had a twelve inch blade digging into it. But somehow my brain spotted a chance and took charge. She was heavy – all wrestlers are, male and female. It's not flab, it's the muscle.

It was easy enough to pull her round on the canvas, and more of an effort to get her airborne. But then it was easy sailing, well flying actually. The only question was how long could I keep her up and where should I let her go.

In the end, I didn't have to make a decision. I just lost my grip and she sailed off towards the ropes.

Would she fly over them or through them or just bounce off or, best of all, get tangled in them?

None of those. By some fluke, some pure chance, she landed on the top rope face down, swinging.

I moved in right away, slapping her ass hard, left side, right side, left side, right side. Good rhythm, the crowd were clapping in time. She was struggling to get free, but could get a grip anywhere.

They were laughing now. Pay back time for that kick in my balls, for the pain in my gut.

Then temptation got the better of me. I don't know if it was in the rules. Were there any rules? I didn't care.

I had to do it. Had to see her ass. Had to feel my hand on her bare flesh.

And that was a mistake, because rules or no rules, there was a ref and she wasn't having it, although I'll bet a jock strap to a used tampon that she enjoyed the sight of those hard glutes appearing as I pulled on her leggings.

The ref was there in an instant, shouting at me to BREAK and STAND BACK.

Which left my opponent swinging to and for, ass exposed for all to see.

Until the ref covered her embarrassment, restored her dignity and eased her off the ropes.

She turned towards me, her face burning. She was out for revenge. I would need to watch myself.

 

[lowblow emma]

I was mad, steaming mad for being made a fool of, and to be honest for letting it happen. I am too experienced a wrestler to be caught like that.

Too experienced to make things worse.

Or so I thought.

I just stormed across the ring at him. I couldn't have telegraphed it better if I had posted it last week on Twitter.

He saw me coming, who wouldn't?, and sidestepped. I spun to carry on my attack and walked straight into a forearm jab across my chin. Staggered back, only to find his feet between mine, which send me down onto my ass. I flew back onto my feet, by which time he was behind me and delivering a kick up my ass, following by a second, then a third, as he chased me round the ring.

I refuse to describe the crowd's reaction. Most of them have the mental age of a amoeba.

When I managed to spin round towards him, he rushed me, ducked under my forearm jab and ran me into the ring post.

I should have been suspicious when he turned and stalked away. Foolish me, I went after him only to be met with a clothesline as he turned sideways to me. I was only saved from going down by him lifting me off my feet and dropping me onto his knee.

ARGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHIT

 

[GenderBender]

She was lying on my feet, in the proverbial heap. What should I do next? Then it came to me, something dramatic, something she won't be expecting, not underground.

The ceiling hold. Hoist her by her arms and legs into the air as I lay on my back, exposed like a moth on a board in a museum.

The co-called experts who watch TV wresting say this is all fake, only possible when the one on top co-operates. That's essential to get them into position and keep them there. They are the ones doing the work. They have to be strong and good actors too to make it look good.

Shit all they know.

They're right that what you see on TV is put up, 99% of the time. But it is possible, if you're experienced enough to know the moves to lock knee joints, elbows and shoulders too, and have the strength to carry it through. It's agony for the victim, which is why we don't use it much.

So I moved in. locks my feet around her ankles, twisted them to lock the joints, then pulled arms back at the shoulders, more twists. Then rock, back and forth, then heave, and she was in the air, over my body, facing up into the lights, exposed to everyone's view.

I open my legs to spread her thighs wider, the ultimate humiliation, not that there was much to view through her leather leggings.

'ARRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH'

'BARRR-SSSSSSSTARDDDDDD'

There was a lot to hear, though, as she howled from the pain as her locked joints took the weight.

There was nothing she could do, except suffer.

And scream, and curse, and wait for me to get bored.

The only way she could do me any mischief was if she pissed herself and it drained down on me.

Lights flashed as phones took photos.

She was there for as long as a chose.

Or as long as the boss chose.

The ref knelt beside me.

'Let her down, gently, don't break anything. You've made your point. Move on.'

So I did, I wanted to be paid after all.

The kindest way to do it is the quick way, which is what I did. It hurt, but the other ways would hurt more.

But I had the last word.

As she rose to her knees, I kicked her in the face.

JOBBER, JOBBER, the crowd were shouting.

 

[lowblow emma]

Jobber was right.

I was wrecked. Despite getting my boot in his bollocks, he was got the better of me again. I had now had to be rescued twice. Once by the ref and my second when I was tied up in the ropes, and now by the boss. There must be some serious money riding on this fight and he was determined that he won't be the one who comes out on top.

It was the kick in the face that was the worst part. Not the pain or the damage. He barely touched me. That was the point. It was dismissive. He was just saying to me that I wasn't worth the bother.

And he was right, I wasn't. Every joint in my body felt broken. There was nothing I could do to get back into this fight without a period of rest and recuperation. He wasn't hovering over me, another sign that he knew I was blown. Otherwise he would have been ready to pounce as soon as my knees cleared the canvas.

I exaggerated a bit, not much because I didn't need to, I was in enough pain as it was. Just enough to give me an edge, which is what I needed, although I had no idea what I would do with it if I got one.

As I struggled to my feet, I saw him move. He was coming for me, bouncing off the ropes. We'd been here before, but I had been trapped then. This time I dropped back to my knee, he leaped over me, which I expected, and I began to rise to catch him on the return, except there was no return. He had stopped, probably by grabbing hold of the ropes, and caught me from behind with a kick on my ass that sent me staggering forward.

Then another.

And another.

He was kicking me around the ring like a kid kicking a football.

 

[GenderBender]

I couldn't believe it was this easy. She was taking everything and had nothing to give back. JOBBER the crowd were shouting and jobber she was. A fighter put up to be beaten and offer little or no resistance.

But what was I supposed to do? This would just get boring, not that I minded kicking a hot girl around a ring all evening, but this was supposed to be wrestling after all.

So I grabbed her, one hand on her throat, the other between her legs and hoist her up to my chest and then over my head. Holding her there like a trophy, parading around the ring with my prize in the air above me. Lowering her and pushing her higher on each side of the ring so everyone got a good view and good shots. Showing my power. Lapping up the applause and the laughter.

And then to show how much stronger I was than her, I heaved her into the air and out of the ring, not caring where or how she landed.

And with her in mid-air, I ran across the ring, bounced off the opposite ropes to propel me after her, propel me into a running leap over the top rope to land on top of her.

GERONIMO

 

[lowblow emma]

'FFFFF-uuuuu-CCCCC-KKKKKKKKKK.'

It was more of a moan that a scream or curse. I had landed flat on my back, yet another humiliation at the hands of this guy who had come from nowhere to make my life hell.

What the hell did he plan next? I couldn't see into the ring from my prone position. The first warning I had was when he was in mid-air over the top rope.

The bad news was that he was planning to dive bomb me.

The good news was that his view of me was limited, just as mine was of him.

The bad news was that I was too knackered to do anything about it.

Well, almost anything.

I was able to pull my knees up to my chest in time to bring my feet up under him as he came down towards me. And then extend my legs to throw him over my head.

There was a satisfactory thud followed by an equally satisfactory curse as he landed on his back.

So far so good, but now what. I had winded him at least, hopefully hurt him too. But what strength did I have to follow up?

I managed to get to my feet and roll under the bottom rope.

Now I had the advantage of height as he tried to get back into the ring.