First Summer: Erotic Bikini Hogtie

I moved around behind her, planted my foot just above her hands and pushed her back face down. But the first time I did that it was ineffective. Because of my timing and a poorly positioned foot, she managed to go down with her knees folded under her – making it easier for her to get back up and to resist my efforts to flatten her out. I stood back and waited until she was getting up again; this time waiting until her body formed a straight line between her knees and her head and she was just about to bring a foot up under her. This time I made sure she came down flat on her face.

As I sat down on her, she rolled over on her back so that I ended up sitting over her pubis. With her hands tied behind her back and now pinned under her, there didn't seem to be any reason I couldn't tie her feet together from this side, so I just turned around, moved my weight down to her knees and started to thread the bikini ties through the loops on her feet while struggling to hold her feet together closely enough to let me do the job. I managed to get the string through both loops, but foolishly instead of just tying a knot there, I thought it would be more secure if I passed the strings through the loops a second time.

All the while I could feel her squirming about. Eventually her knee lifted a little and before I could register what was happening she had a hand cupped around each of my breasts from behind and was able to pull me off balance and then throw me off and face down on the ground; deliberately ripping the triangles of my bikini top off my breasts in the process. Immediately the full length of her now naked body was lying along my back pinning me down.

She had got her hands free. Evidently her hands were far enough apart that her fingers were able to reach the knot and my rather inadequate knot wasn't hard for her to fumble around and undo even behind her back. I always knew I should have watched better as Greg had shown me the sailing knots.

My arms were still free, so I struggled to bring my right arm under me and give me some leverage to try and lift my body up and throw her off. She countered by bringing her left hand across both breasts to try and hold me. With her right hand she then fought me to try and pin my right arm in against my body.

The videos had told me Merc's classic winning hold was to get her victim in a bear hug from behind; both arms pinned against their body and her legs wrapped around theirs. Once she had them in this position she always seemed able to work around and get them tied up. I had resolved not to let myself get caught in this position and yet that was exactly what she was trying to achieve now. It was a test of strength; but in this case my leverage was better than hers and I was able to apply enough force to lift my chest up and at least force myself around face up; although I then had the strange experience of having her naked figure on top of me; her voluptuous breasts smothering my face. I wasn't used to such intimate contact with women and while not suggesting it was a sexual turn-on, it was certainly a novel experience in itself. As a nipple brushed across my mouth I even had to resist a temptation to stick my tongue out and lick it.

She was trying to wrestle me over face down again. I struggled against her and tried to squirm out from under her. At this stage my partial knot around her feet was constraining her. Instead of her legs being able to wrap up mine and bind me, I was able to use pressure against hers to help me squirm, gradually working down her body until eventually my face was in to her stomach – the grip her hands had on me becoming less and less effective. Just as I prepared for a final heave to get out from under her, she managed to pull her legs apart – my legs being no longer positioned to hold hers together and the unknotted bikini string sliding through the loops around her legs.

Now her legs were outside me, trying to bind me; wrapped around my waist. Still, her positioning was inefficient for holding me. I could still squirm and was still working out from under her body – sliding gradually out between her legs. Again I braced for a final heave, lifted some of her weight off me with my arms and arched my back, like I was doing the limbo down the length of her torso. With a quick flick my nose drew a line down the centre of her stomach and down her pubis; although I still had the presence of mind to turn my face slightly so it was my cheek and not my nose which made far more intimate contact with her crutch than I found desirable.

I was free and quickly on my feet. Before I could jump on her back she too was up and facing me. We started gradually circling each other; hands at the ready by our sides like a pair of Western gunslingers. Somewhere – maybe in a book, maybe in a movie – I'd learnt that fighters don't watch each other's faces – they watch their chests. It's there the first sign of an aggressive movement will be detected.

So I found myself looking directly at her naked breasts; the rest of her torso within the edges of the field of my tunnel vision. Until I'd met Greg I would have to admit that I wasn't good with communal nakedness; whether mine or someone else's – be that man or woman. A change room was something used infrequently and with a minimum of eye contact with anything other than the wall I was facing. Getting a wax job done or a medical check-up was an exercise in excruciating embarrassment. Even "AG" (after Greg) when my mutual nakedness with him felt as natural as life itself, third party nakedness had been limited to the Christmas day activities and the night we'd had to put a very drunk and sick Kate to bed. Still I was getting better about it.

Now for the second time in as many weeks here I was up very close and personal with a very naked woman. One part of my brain studied her body in detached analysis. Yes, she was full bodied and curvy, but Greg had infected my way of looking at other women. Without the support of even a string bikini top her large breasts already lacked any real perkiness. Their mass rested down on her upper chest. From magazines and other pictures I'd got the impression that as most breasts sagged they performed the wonderful engineering trick of still pointing their nipples outward. It wasn't working for Merc. Her large dark nipples and areola faced somewhat downwards; smearing themselves excessively and to my eyes unattractively across the face of the bulb of each breast.

Her stomach bowed noticeably outward with just the start of a roll of fat beginning to show running in an arch from the top of her hips at the side and down across the face of her pubis. She was fully shaved or waxed and even from this angle I could see she joined the rest of us in having anything but a 'designer vagina'; there being a noticeable degree of asymmetry. A quick glimpse down to her feet showed the bikini top tangled around one of them but otherwise no longer binding them.

Voluptuous, and I'm sure in the eyes of many guys sexy, with the support and camouflage that even just a bikini offered, without that her human imperfections were all too evident.

Studying her I recalled the dishelieved state of my own bikini. Once I'd realised Merc had a deliberate tactic of using modesty challenges and intimate contact as a game changer, I'd tried to resolve to ignore my clothing; even to pull the strings on my bikini and lose the pieces to make her job harder. I hadn't done that, but now I just instinctively readjusted the pieces to sit properly on me again. Almost immediately I was annoyed with myself for showing that weakness to her.

My problem was I had no plan B. Now the control hold had failed once I doubted she'd let me get another go at it. Beyond avoiding her bear hug, the only real plan I had was to try and exhaust her; to use my greater fitness to overcome her greater strength. As we continued to circle making false lunges at each other a mental picture came to mind of that scene from the movie Life Of Brian where a gladiator throws away his shield an sword and has his competitor chase him around and around the arena until the latter – burdened by his equipment – has a heart attack.

I doubted anything so obvious would be acceptable here and the game of faints and false lunges we were involved in didn't tire her enough for my purpose. Sometimes a feint would result in each of us grabbing the hands of the other, trying to use strength to collapse the others outstretched arms and get a body hold on them. Invariable as soon as one of us felt we were on the losing side of that tussle, we'd break the hold. On three occasions – twice for her and once for me – one of us did manage the start of a body hold on the other, but a quick squirm or body drop was enough to break contact and start the circling dance again.

They say no battle plan survives the first contact with the enemy. So it was here. She fainted at me again, but just when I though she was pulling back she lunged again, capturing me in a face to face bear hug. I dropped my legs, twisted my body and pushed my arms outward with all my might sliding under her hold. But I stumbled a bit as I got to my feet again, giving her time to get around behind me and capture me in a standing bear hug.

She was trying to bend me forward towards the ground. I in turn stiffened my body and thrust my feet forward resisting her attempt to put me down on my face. She tried various tricks to overcome my resistance – using her feet to sweep mine from under me, lifting me up to take my feet off the ground and pulling me suddenly backwards to take the pressure out of my resistance to her – but each time I was able to get back into a braced position before she could get me down. The one thing I did fear was that, having lifted me off the ground, she would actually throw me down; even worse if she came with me using my body as her protective air bag. But either she didn't think of it or thought it too likely to hurt me or her to do it.

By now she was starting to pant. For just a moment I thought my better fitness approach might even work. Then I felt her start to turn me around; each of us shuffling our feet so that instead of me facing the water I was facing up the beach where I saw Greg and her second come into my field of vision – each of them with their cameras pointed at us and running. Until that moment I'd been so focused on the match I'd even forgot about Greg being there.

I didn't give her turning of me any great credence as a tactic until one of her thumbs hooked itself over the lower tie of my bikini top and the other over the waist hem of my pants and both suddenly jerked downward; pulling my pants partially down and dislodging the top from my breasts. Instinct for a moment took over. With my hands pinned, I intuitively bent over forward - reacting as any girl would to regain some modesty after being exposed. It only took a nano-second for the thinking part of my brain to try and cancel my reaction, but it was all Merc needed. She had anticipated the instinctive reaction and took immediate advantage of it, using her weight to continue the momentum of my fold and pushing me to the ground.

I was furious with myself. It was the very thing I'd promised myself I wouldn't do; I may not have wanted to flaunt myself, but I just wasn't that concerned about a bit of exposure to throw the match for it. Now she had me in the very hold I knew was her winning one – a bear hug from behind with me flat on my face and her on top.

I used all my strength to break one arm free – trying to get it under me and flip myself over again. But this time the leverage advantage was hers. I'd only got the arm 90 degrees out from my body – a very inefficient position for your arms muscles – before her full strength was being applied to pulling it back within her grasp.

Now my resistance to her pulling my arm was nothing but a forlorn hope. In short order my hands were tied and I felt the strings of my bikini top being undone. I tried to use Merc's technique of forcing my breasts down against the sand to frustrate her getting the top, but my breasts unfortunately didn't present the same sort of barrier that hers had. She just used her hands to bulldoze under my breasts, sweeping the top out with them (and I'm fairly sure deliberately using her fingers spaced slightly apart to tease up my nipples in the process) so my legs were soon being tied together. By now I had surrendered to my fate and had decided not to struggle as she took off my pants and used them to hog tie me.

But Merc had other ideas. Getting off me, she rolled me over so I was face up. Then she picked up my feet and dragged me around so that my head was facing toward the water and my feet up the beach, following which she sat down on my thighs. At this stage I was left wondering what was going on. This was a different script from the one I had seen on the videos from previous fights.

Leaning over me she whispered, so as to be inaudible to the seconds.

"You're the first out of townie to be privileged enough to do this. I think we need to add something special for you."

Even as she was saying this, she started rimming the top of my bikini bottom, sliding he fingers just under the hem of it – much as Greg often does as foreplay. If I thought she was moving across to undo the strings, I was quickly disabused of the thought. Spreading he fingers apart, she then slid one down each side of the leg of the bikini bottom, making a point of massaging the lips of my labia as she moved them all the way down to the base of my crutch, to the point I thought she was going to finger my vagina.

My pubic area is incredible sensitive in an erogenous sort of way. Greg doesn't need much playing around in that area to get me worked up to a fairly high state of arousal; and given my bikini fetish, if he does it as part of undressing me from one I'm all but ready to come by the time he's stripped me. Until today he's the only one I'd allowed to really touch me there. I was surprised that, even though I've not got the slightest lesbian inclinations, Merc's touch was never the less quite arousing, even if unwelcome.

I started to squirm in fear of where this was going. Greg's view of all this had been blocked by Merc's body, but he'd already been attuned to the fact something was unusual. Immediately I could hear his voice.

"Merc, what's going on?"

Even as she replied "nothing", she started fingering my clit through the material of my bikini. While she had a good – I might even say very effective – touch for the process, I started squirming even harder. Greg's voice was louder and impatient.

"Merc whatever you're doing, stop it."

His feet could be heard making the first steps through the sand towards us.

"I'm just taking her pants off."

With that Merc raised her bum off my hips, giving Greg a view of her hands as she untied my bikini bottom and pulled it none too gently from between my legs. The fact the back of it was caught under my bum and she pulled it from the direction of my navel, gave me a front wedgie which was both uncomfortable and slightly arousing all at once. I lifted my bum cheeks to release it and the now stretched elastic caused it to fly through my crutch and into her hand.

For the first time it occurred to me I was now naked with my crutch towards the cameras. This wasn't the face down exposure that I had expected to be the limit of my on camera nudity and I kept my legs pinned as tightly together as I could. By now Merc had moved to my side but still had a knee gently across my stomach which was never the less enough to stop me rolling back over of my own accord. Already I suspected she had something more in mind than just rolling me back over to complete the tie.

Suddenly she started viciously tickling my flanks. I squealed and squirmed to her attack. With my legs and hands tied most of the thrashing about was confined to my hips and thighs and I admit I lost all ability to keep the legs together and protect such modesty as I had left. Instantly Greg's voice could be heard calling for her to stop and I glimpsed him heading down the sand towards us again.

Before Greg reached us, she stopped. In all probability it had probably continued only for an instant, but I was sure it was enough to give her second some fairly detailed video.

Standing up, she slid a foot under my flank and flipped me over; I being more than happy to assist the action. Without further fuss she brought my ankles up to the general location of my bum and used the strings of the bikini bottom to tie them to my wrists, completing the hogtie.

With a patronising pat on my bum she finished our tussle with a –

"Nice try girl. You did better than I thought you would."

At least I could watch with amusement as Merc attempted to collect up the parts of her bikini and get dressed. The pants were OK, but the pulled through triangle on the top gave her a few problems. She tried simply pinning the bottom part of the unthreaded triangle to her chest by tucking it under a very tightly tied lower tie. But with the size of her breasts, it tended to pop out with the slightest provocation. Still, with as much dignity as she could manage she and her second left me there with a simple –

"Enjoy the wait."

Greg came down and sat down beside me. I turned my head towards him and half turned my body on its side.

"I thought you had her there, you should have won, it was just a bit of bad luck. You know, this isn't an honour thing for you, especially in light of Merc's outrageous behaviour; you don't really need to wait. Would you like to be untied?"

"No I want to play by the rules."

He had a kindly hand on my naked bum and alternated between that and brushing the sand off my stomach and pubis as he noticed patches of it stuck to my skin. Greg's presence was enough to arouse me at the best of times but there was something about my vulnerable state and his touch that made it extreme.

"So now I know why you double knotted the end of my bikini top string. How did you know about them pulling through?"

"You're kidding. About half the girls I find have their tops pulled through. It makes it a lot harder to get home if there are people on the beach. I even brought some tape and a short bit of wire in case I had to fix yours – although I wasn't going to let Merc know that. You know I'm not really supposed to sit next to you; more keep an eye on you from a distance. Do you want to ignore about that rule."

That was a harder question, not because I was scared of being left alone, but because I really wanted him close to me.

"I suppose we'd better do it properly, why don't you go for your morning swim while you're waiting." I figured, at least that way I get to see him stripped down.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Although I wasn't.

With that he stripped down to his speedos, put his shorts and T Shirt further up the beach and went in to the water. I turned my head so I could watch him. I noticed that, even while swimming, he rarely took his eyes off me. He stopped frequently to look up and down the beach to make sure there was nothing that might threaten my safety.

After what seemed like a long while, he came back out of the water, dried himself and sat down next to me; his bum being next to my head.

"There's no-one in sight, so I don't suppose anything is compromised if I sit here for a while. If I see someone coming, I'll disappear, but at this time of the morning, that'd be usual.

I rolled over on my side facing him and as I did so, he gently stroked up the side of my flank, ending in him circling my nipple with his cool fingers, before cupping my breast in his hand and then stroking the side of my face. I could see I wasn't alone in being aroused by this unusual situation; his swimwear was heavily tented.