tagNonConsent/ReluctanceGrappling with a Challenge

Grappling with a Challenge


Many thanks to Kitty Pain for first editing and improving this story and to author/editor For_the_writing_only for additional editing.

Special thanks to winterhunny713 for the enormous effort put into fresh perspectives and challenges that resulted in major improvements. It's all the more remarkable because this author/editor's own stories are suffused with emotion, sensuality and descriptive detail -- at the other end of the spectrum from mine. So if you want to bathe in steamy and passionate eroticism instead of taking a cold shower, check them out, and you might join the community of fans that winterhunny713 interacts with.

And for helping me fix a major error, thanks to Secretsxywriter, whose story page looks like a Monopoly board because of the red hotels all over it. But the red H's stand for "hot," and they're awarded because readers have voted the stories among the highest scores on this site. Whatever you're looking for, from interesting plots and points of view to skin-tingling sexual ecstasy, this author/editor's shining stories leave this writer's in the shade.

Description: She knew he'd hate it, but she did it anyway.


"Don't move," she said.

"Okay," I said.

That's how the worst day of my life started. Or should I say ended, because it was close to midnight.

I was lying on top of Sally like dead weight. She had her long legs wrapped around my waist. We were drenched in sweat after an extended session of athletic lovemaking.

We had finished the way she loved most. She was on the bottom with her legs locked around my back, I was on my hands in a pushup position pounding away at her as hard as I could while listening to her saying "Harder!" in a whisper that gradually grew louder until she was screaming as she came. All the while, she was pulling me with her strong leg muscles, multiplying the force of my impact as I slammed into her, then quickly releasing me so I flew out of her while I was making the upstroke.

The first time we did this, I was surprised that she didn't say anything. After a few more times, I asked if I was hurting her.

"Yes," she admitted. "And I'm also feeling angry at you because you are humiliating me by turning me into an object that you're hammering into the mattress."

She stopped and looked at me as if she was unsure about whether she should continue.

"And I'm also wishing desperately that I could demean you as horribly as you're demeaning me."

I was so shocked that my face froze. I didn't know what to say. I cleared my throat and managed to get out a feeble whisper.

"I'm so sorry. I'll never do that again."

"That's what I was expecting you to say," she said, and a smile crossed her face. "I don't ever want you to stop doing that to me. Everything I just said is true, but I didn't tell you the whole story.

"Why do you think I'm using my legs to help you? When we do this, I get the best orgasms of my life. Somehow the humiliation and pain and anger and desire for revenge work together with your violent fucking to make me come like a hurricane. I think it's because deep down I know that the last thing you'd ever do is hurt me, and yet you're doing it despite that.

"Anyway. I don't want to give it up. If I ever change my mind, I'll tell you, but until then, promise me you'll never stop."

It took her a while to convince me to make that promise to her, and I didn't feel good about it. She knew I cared for her, but she had no idea how deep my feelings were. I knew she liked me but I doubted if she looked at me as more than someone who would do until the real thing came along. She had no idea that I would do almost anything to hang onto her as long as I could.

The pile-driving of Sally was physically exhausting, and sometimes it lasted so long that I didn't have the strength to hold myself up any longer. When that happened, she would have me lower my upper body to my elbows and rest on her with my chest pressed against her beautiful breasts, until I gathered the strength to get into the pushup position again and resume.

When she came, she came loudly, and it almost always drove me over the edge, too. Then we both collapsed in exhaustion before I would roll off of her and lie next to her while we panted and laughed.


Sally and I had been having great laughs and great times together since we were kids though not in the beginning. She was my baby sister's best friend, and she was in our house almost as much as in her house down the street.

The first thing I remember was Omie and Sally ganging up on me. Even though I was two years older than them and pretty strong, they were both athletic, and together they were more than a match for me.

Sally was much meaner to me than Omie, and she loved to devise ways to torment me. When the two of them drove me to tears, she laughed in delight.

Despite that, we had a lot of good times, too. Where we lived, there weren't any boys my age to play with, and I appreciated that the two of them were happy to participate in any sport I dictated, from running, to football, to basketball, to baseball, to wrestling.

It all ended when I was turning 15 and they were almost 13. That's when they became boy crazy, and my role changed to protector. Sally thought of me as her big brother as much as Omie did, and even though she grew tall and curvy and cute as can be, she never looked at me like I looked at her. She dated lots of my friends, and some of them didn't like the warnings I gave them against trying anything that she wasn't ready for.

Actually, Sally could take good care of herself without my help. She was the star of the women's wrestling team and won State Heavyweight in her senior year. She was lean, strong and aggressive, and when she wrapped her long arms and legs around opponents, they weren't going anywhere.

She was also very popular. I didn't date a lot in high school, but once I entered college, that changed. Omie and Sally joined me as freshmen when I was a junior, and because we were all townies, I began seeing more of Sally again in our frequent car pools.

It was like the three of us took an intermission from childhood and were kids all over again. On the way to school and home, nothing was sacred -- not professors, not clueless classmates and not our love lives. I could hold my own with Omie, but I could never match Sally in coming up with devastating things to say. I knew she didn't mean any of the cruel jokes at my expense, and all three of us laughed at each other's putdowns.

I don't even know how it happened, but Sally and I started going out, and then came the best year of my life, which ended that night, a month from my graduation. Until that night, we were practically inseparable. We enjoyed doing everything together. We laughed together and occasionally even cried together. But most of all we made love together.

It turned out that while Sally dated a lot in high school, her height and strength intimidated most guys, and she was at about the same sexual incompetence level as I was. We set off on a crash course together and tried almost everything we heard of in almost every odd corner of our town. I thought some of it was a little kinky, but Sally and Omie laughed at me and told me it was nothing compared to what some of their friends got up to.

A good example was oral. Sally loved it when I ate her out, but she said she was scared to return the favor, because she knew she'd throw up if I came in her mouth. I told her I didn't blame her for feeling that way, because the thought disgusted me, too, and I would never do that to her. A couple of times, she tried to overcome her aversion, but each time she gave up. I didn't care, especially after she went on the pill and I didn't have to use protection anymore.

I was glad that I pleased Sally in bed, because it meant she spent time with me. The big secret I hid from her was that every second with her was precious to me.

She had blossomed into such a beauty that lots of guys were after her. I was glad she didn't fall for the arrogant jerks who came on to her, but I knew that one day she'd meet someone who had a lot more to offer her than me, and I'd become history.

So I kept my feelings to myself and never responded when she said told me things that were the exact opposite of what was really going on. She would joke that I was only interested in her body and she was living on borrowed time because once I found someone hotter than her, I'd leave her in a cloud of dust.

When she said things like that, I wanted to shout at her to shut up and tell her she was the most important thing in my life. But I knew she was just jerking me around and what she was really saying was that I was damn lucky to get any of her attention and it was only because I wasn't a boring pussy hound like the others. I was certain if I ever tried to express what I felt, she'd realize I was just another pest, and she'd shuck me as fast as she did them.

That brings us to the night it all blew up into a million pieces. It started when I was ready to roll off of her.

"Don't move," she said.


"I want to try something new tonight."

"I just wanted to roll over so I'm not crushing you," I said.

"Not yet," she said. "I want to tell you what you're going to do."


"You're going to eat me."

"I already ate you."

"I mean now."

"But I didn't use a condom," I said.

"I know, but you're going to do it anyway."

"I don't want to," I said, trying to figure out what kind of game she was playing.

"I know you don't, but you will anyway."

"No I won't," I said.

"I'm going to make you."

"Okay, Sally, I give up. Am I supposed to think up things to say that are as silly as what you're saying?"

"I want you to start eating me now."

"I'm not doing anything of the sort, and if you don't tell me what this is all about, I'm getting up."

"No, you're not."

"That's enough," I said, and I put my hands on either side of her shoulders and began to push my upper body up. I didn't get far because she loosened her legs from around my waist, stretched them out and then slammed them into my back and locked them around me, pulling me more tightly into her body than I had been a few seconds ago.

At the same time she put both hands behind my head, grabbed my neck and pulled it down behind her left shoulder. I struggled against her for a while with my mouth pressed into pillow and then I decided to stop and just go limp. She let go of my neck but didn't do anything else.

I raised my head.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Nothing right now -- except preventing you from getting off the bed before you eat me," she said.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I thought you'd never ask. It's because of Valentine's Day, sort of. You know Sheridan and Sloane?"

"Yes," I said. "What do they have to do with Valentine's Day."


Sheridan and Sloane were her grappling buddies. Sally could have had a wrestling scholarship, but she decided to give it up to focus on her studies. She ran into Sheridan and Sloane, who used to be opponents in high school tournaments, and they talked her into joining a Brazilian jiu jitsu club. They worked out together once a week with other former wrestlers and also saw each other socially.

We had double and triple dated a few times, but I didn't care for Sheridan and Sloane's male friends. Both of them were muscular women, even more than Sally, and it seemed strange that their choice in men ran to puny, nondescript guys. Sally thought so, too, and told me that the men enjoyed being submissive and her friends enjoyed being dominant. I never asked for any details.

"Should we start over?" I asked, talking at the pillow.

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "I know it's confusing. But it started with Sheridan and Sloane telling me some of the things they did with their weird men friends. Their guys like to be humiliated and degraded, and the girls love to give them what they want.

"They told me they practice armbars, cross sides, knee mounts and even illegal moves like slamming and scissor takedowns on their boyfriends. And sometimes they do things like facesitting and reverse facesitting."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said.

"I know. You've never taken an interest in submission grappling -- or submission sex."

"Is that what this is?"

"Let me finish. All you need to know is that the girls force the men to eat them out, both the regular way and the, uh, back side."

"You're kidding."

"No," she said, "although it's partly a game. The guys fight them as hard as they can, but they know they're going to lose, and they don't really mind."

"But I mind."

"I know, and you're not going to do the back side. You're just going to do one thing they do, which is eat me out when I'm full."

"Even if I agree, which I won't, why is this so important to you?"

"I want to get back at you for Valentine's Day."


"You stood me up."

"You're crazy. We talked about it weeks in advance, and you agreed I could go to Ollie's bachelor weekend and I would make it up to you with a special dinner later. And I kept my word."

"I know I agreed, but I was really hurt that you chose Ollie over me."

"I didn't choose Ollie over you. I got your permission."

"But Valentine's Day is special for women, and we were going to be with your sister and her fiancé. Now both of them probably think you don't really care much about me or you wouldn't have shown me such disregard, and they are probably right."

"You sound more irrational than you've ever sounded," I said. "So you want to punish me for not being with you on Valentine's Day. Don't you think that's sick?"

"Yes, but I still want to do it," she said. "I admit that's only part of the reason. It's really more like the excuse. All right! The real reason is I've been hearing all this stuff from Sheridan and Sloane, and I wanted to try something just this once. I promise I'll never do it again. And I'm glad you're not going along like those boyfriends. I don't want you to be like them."

"You're darn right I'm not going along," I said to the pillow. "Now let me go."

"Not until you do it," she said.

"You can hold me as tight as you want for the next few hours, but I still won't do it," I said.

"Yes you will," she said, "because I'll force you. You're probably stronger than I am, but you don't know anything about BJJ. Women police officers use it against criminals twice their size. Now that I've explained what you're going to do, we can get started. I'm not going to injure you, but you might as well give in because until you do, you'll be extremely uncomfortable."

I didn't say anything more. I decided she must have taken leave of her senses and there was no use talking to her while she was like this. She was right that I had no knowledge of grappling, but I did have my weight and it was all on top of her. So I just lay there limp.

Then I felt her hands go toward my head again. Without thinking I raised myself up so she couldn't reach my neck. Then some things happened fast.

She grabbed my left wrist tightly with both her hands and pulled it across her body. Then her right leg moved so quickly that I didn't even see it. But I felt it unhook from around my waist and fly up until her foot was against the left side of my face and pushing my head to the right.

As soon as she did that, she grabbed my right wrist and pulled it under my body in the other direction, and just like before, her left leg moved up against my right cheek. Her legs crossed behind my head, and then I felt them pulling my head down towards where her hands were now reaching for my neck.

My hands were now free, and I tried to pull her hands away. I finally succeeded, but not before I felt her lift her legs so that her thighs were now at my neck. And then she moved her legs so that they were like two hands choking my neck, but much more powerful than two hands.

I let go of her hands and reached up to grab her legs and pull them apart so I could get my head out of those powerful thighs, but now she grabbed for my hands and pulled them down. I shook free of her and lifted my hands again, but she pulled them down again. Meanwhile, the tight thighs were like a vise that was closing around my neck. I was in tremendous pain, and it was starting to affect my breathing.

I stopped trying to raise my head and lowered it slowly as she moved her legs up higher and pulled my head down with her hands. I felt weak and dizzy. My head was pushed into her large bush of pubic hair. I had been in this position often, but always willing and eager. I loved pleasuring her. It turned me on more than when our bodies were slamming into each other.

But this was no turn-on for me. I was in pain and feeling sick. As I smelled the strong odor of my sperm through her pubic hair, I became even more nauseated. A thought came to my mind: How excited would she be if I threw up all over her crotch?

She loosened the grip of her legs, but she kept them locked. I was able to breathe more easily, and my neck didn't hurt as much. I lay there thinking. I thought about us as children, as teenagers, as lovers. What a fool I had been to cling to her! My love and devotion to her had blinded me. I had not a clue that she was capable of the cold-blooded contempt and maybe even hatred that would make her attempt to humiliate me this way. Then she interrupted my thoughts.

"Are you ready to cooperate?" she asked.

"No," I said. Now it was her sweaty pubic hair, reeking of my semen that I was speaking to, not the pillow.

"I'm so excited that I'm sure I'll come really fast," she said, "and then I'll let you go."

"I don't care how excited you are. You can lock my head up again so tight that I faint. Or you can pull my neck down until it breaks. I'm not going to stick my tongue into you."

"Yes you are! Why can't you be reasonable? Just do it and let's get this over with."


"Fine! I didn't want to do this. Sloane says her boyfriend likes this, but I know you won't."

I felt her legs tighten around my neck again and pull my head down. One hand was pulling on my head, too. I wanted to push it away and lift my body up, but I couldn't summon the strength.

Holding me like this she wiggled her body and moved both of us close to the edge of the bed. Then she stopped, and I felt one of her long arms drop down on the side of the bed and move around as if she was reaching for something under the bed. She found it, because the hand came up to the bed again. I couldn't see what she had reached for. My eyes were closed because they were pressed into her slimy bush.

Then I heard a sound like the wind, and boiling water poured over my body, and I was screaming in agony as it scalded me. It wasn't boiling water, but that's what it felt like. The searing pain started in my butt and moved out to envelop every inch of me. I drew my breath in and held it, trying to control the burning, but I couldn't. And then I started crying, and I hated myself. I was now one of those submissive boyfriends for her, and the humiliation seemed to increase the pain I was feeling.

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was a cane. I know what you just felt, because I had Sloane give me one hard stroke. I told her it wouldn't work on you, but once I felt it, I realized I was wrong. It's no shame to give in to that. I can't imagine anything hurting more. I'm going to let you collect yourself, and then you can start."

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