This section comprises articles written by men who have used the services of a Wrestling Demonstrator. Wrestling demonstrators are women who offer to wrestle men, usually for a hour, and subject to pre-arranged conditions which can involve payment of a fee or possibly a monetary prize to the winner. These encounters are purely about wrestling, albeit between opposite sexes rather than the same sex as in the conventional world.
The holistic health people have nothing to do with wrestling of course, but it is interesting to note the faint similarities to various women who practise strange"therapies" to the "no sex please we're wrestlers" women who wrestle with men. I do not say this to denigrate the healers, but hopefully to uplift the image of the wrestling women.
However I still think that there is some scope for what is now, bluntly put, "women giving men wrestling holds" could be elevated by giving it some eastern sounding name and extolling its health benefits. For example, it is known that stretching is good for you - it oxygenates the muscles. Establishment physiotherapists tend to put people on machines these days, but that is professional medicine for you. A holistic caring osteopath of the opposite sex can provide a treatment with an added dimension, which of not abused can add to the healing process, I should have thought.
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This links to her web site where she offers various activities, which include wrestling sessions, in the Washington, Seattle area of the USA.
"We had agreed on 5-count pins. I'll never forget the vision of that beautiful face looking down into my eyes, always with a slight smile, counting slowly to five. She'd drawl out the last count slightly and grin wide. Never thought a number could be that exciting."
"I coaxed her to try a few leg manoeuvres and found she was as adept at using leg scissors to squeeze my head and stomach or pin my shoulders framing my face with those magnificent inner thighs. Now I was in heaven! ... A fantasy now reality."
At last, I realized I was very sleepy ... sleepy and oddly without any pain. I was vaguely aware that Anne-Marie and the photographer were chatting even while Anne-Marie sent me slowly to la-la land. It was as if I wasn't even there! The strange thing is that I found this especially erotic, the idea that Anne-Marie and the photographer were carrying on a conversation as if they were alone.
Releasing my head, she pulled my arms straight over my head before I could react, brought her right leg over so she straddled my waist, and dropped her full weight on me - my face trapped in the valley between her breasts. I'm sure you'll think I'm crazy but I was really trying to escape.
Immediately she flipped her legs forward locking them around my waist. "Zeke, your arms are strong. Too bad for you they're not as strong as my legs."
She really liked arm bars, picking on my right arm next so that I would have equal amounts of soreness in each for the following weeks. Then she trapped the left again in a sort of arm scissors with her legs tight against my side, feet past my head, and arms forcing my already aching limb in whatever direction she wanted it to go with no discernable effort on her part.
"I just love this position," she sighed, sounding like someone lounging in front of the fire place. "It's my favourite part of wrestling, having someone helpless in my control, knowing that anytime I want I can either force them to submit or break their arm. You know I could really hurt you badly with this hold."
Her body scissors had a constant and continual pressure while I was trapped and unable to escape ... and a new rocking pin where she cradled and rolled my crushed body back and forth into submission.
She clamped my head between her thighs and proceeded to give me a wicked and prolonged head scissor. I thought my head would pop! Angel at last took pity on her pulverized male foe and released me. It was several minutes before I stopped groaning and moaning.
The moment I laid eyes on the stunning Tatianna in her bikini bra and thong, I knew I could be in for a rough hour. ... Tatianna stands 5'9" and carries her 170 muscular pounds with feline grace, moving like the dancer that she is ... she rolled me onto my back and slammed my wrists over my head while snaking her awesome legs around mine. I was trapped in a double-leg grapevine. She grinned down at me, stretching my arms higher while spreading my legs farther apart.
Dimples planted her full weight midway on my back and yanked both my arms up and trapped them atop her thighs. Now she clamped one hand under my chin and the other on my forehead and started lifting my head. Slowly, my upper back bent as Dimples pulled my head higher and higher. I thought I was going to literally snap in two. I barely managed to wheeze out a submission. Dimples rolled off me and I lay on my belly for several moments. She was solicitous and massaged my back. She gave me my water bottle.
I was flat on my back, her foot pressing down hard on my chest as she crushed and twisted my arm between her thighs.
... she decided to go easy. First, she worked me into a reverse head-scissor, which she kept me clamped in for several minutes. Then she added a figure4 to the reverse head scissor, and I (truth be told) took great pleasure in the proximity of her gorgeous black buttocks a mere inch from my face.
I tried not to wince or gasp; didn't want to let her know I was hurting. Her legs cut into my waist. It felt like I was being restructured to be longer from back to belly than from side to side. I remembered reading that women who had run or danced or jumped for years had much more dangerous legs than body builders. Raven had put in the years and was proving the point. She released my head and leaned back to produce even more pressure. Now I could look into her eyes. They appeared to be sightless with the concentration she was putting into the hold. Periodically she'd close them and screw her face up as she ratcheted up the pressure. I was a notch away from submission, but fortunately she either didn't have the strength or stamina or chose not to go any higher. Gradually I was able to raise up and lean in forcing her to bend her knees and lose some of the force. In this position it was a stand off.
Joanna seemed to enjoy rubbing it in, so to speak. With a straight full or cross body press she'd give me staccotto bursts of weight bouncing, leaving me even more drained than the steady pressure. She was never quick to pull off a pin or ask me if I gave up, letting me decide when I'd had enough. Occasionally she'd shift from one pin to another if I hadn't given up, usually to something more erotic or dominating depending on your perspective. To me it's erotic in pictures, dominating in reality, at least as long as you're resisting.
Andy took the initiative now. She feinted to her left, I moved to my right, and fell right into her trap. She was suddenly in front of me and my head was clamped tight in a vise-like headlock. She bent me to my waist. I struggled, bucking, but her grip was too tight and I couldn't breath. She forced me to my knees and shoved my head between her thighs. I tried prying my head loose, but my arms were no match for her muscular thighs... At last, unable to free myself and growing slightly woozy from Andy's increasingly tight standing head scissor, I tapped out. Andy released me at once.
The trouble for me with submissions ... there’s no time to enjoy the power subduing me. To get that enjoyment I suggested putting each other in holds and seeing who could escape. ... catching me in a head scissors. Goodnight Irene. ... she locked her legs around my waist, leaned forward, locked her arms around my head and pulled my head into the valley between her breasts ... five minutes of bucking, pushing, pulling, twisting, bridging - all the while feeling the strength of her body holding me down and listening to the panting, giggling, and laughing coming from above me.
I got my arms underneath me and pushed myself up off the mat successfully fending off her attempts to get the half nelson back. She dropped a little lower behind me and grabbed me in a bear hug around my stomach - known I think in wrestling circles as a gut wrench.
Kasie soon caught on that it was more interesting to toy with me awhile and then put me in a hold that allowed for a struggle but not for an escape. If nothing else, I put a lot of effort into trying to get out. And occasionally I was successful in prolonging the action. Eventually she put me away with a cross body, a grape vine with arms stretched above my head, a headlock, and a breast smother.
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