Raven

by Zeke

It was a slightly bumpy landing in Dallas, but nothing to worry about. The big bumps would come later. Once again I was about to wrestle a woman. Raven. The Texas version.

The match had been lined up with a phone call back in January. It had been a shot in the dark, not really knowing anything about the wrestlers listed in Dallas on the wb270.com list. The brief comments from clients on the web page had mentioned her athleticism, her intelligence, and her friendliness. But they were a little hazy about her wrestling skill. Certainly nothing in our several phone calls triggered serious concerns. She didn't have the phone skills of Josephine or Malibu, either of whom could probably sell me ocean front property in Pittsburgh over the phone. Raven's a real straightforward type, more like Ziggy in that regard. However, unlike Ziggy she was a complete unknown on the net. Never mentioned on the various message boards covering wrestling. No web site of her own. Not a single picture on any female or mixed wrestling page.

The day before I left, things changed. There was an email address on the wrestlers' site and when I called to confirm she mentioned she'd just had a web site put up. Unfortunately, it didn't wipe out the doubts. The pictures were disappointing. She didn't look hard or strong. Certainly not fat, but soft. She claimed to be an excellent athlete, but didn't look the part. Would she be competitive enough? I really didn't want to have to ease up. The fun was in pinning someone who put up an intense struggle to escape or to be the one pinned by a woman with enough power and/or skill to be the dominator. Since the place she ran was called the Domination Dungeon, you'd think she could. But this wasn't play time with a willing subject. This was a wrestling match and it's a real downer for me if I'm not forced to struggle and fail - at least some of the time.

Still, how could you argue with a woman who was throwing in pickup and return to the Dallas airport for much less than I could have done it on my own and had been open enough to lunch to convince me we'd do it unless I screwed up. Certainly our last conversation had verified that she had an outgoing personality. Once she got started the lady liked to talk. I was confident of safety and respectful treatment. I just wasn't too sure she could physically do the job. And while I respect women of varying appearance, everything is enhanced if I'm attracted to them.

Once on the ground I headed for the men's room to make sure I looked presentable. No reason not to look old when you are, but all the women appreciate your taking the effort to be clean. And I don't think anyone would be too excited about a client walking in the door and asking to use the bathroom.

As I left the terminal I spotted the white minivan just leaving the area. Couldn't be sure it was the right one but it matched her description. Nothing else came close so I waited for it to cycle around. It was back in less than a minute, staying in the middle lane, driving slowly. She was wearing sunglasses and hadn't yet spotted me as she was watching a hotel van threatening to pull out into her. When I saw her head turn towards me I raised my briefcase - the identifying item I had given her, and nodded slightly. Very cool. Nothing to let her know I was almost shaking with the rush of knowing in seconds the appearance aspect would be settled and shortly after that we'd be getting down to the task of establishing physical dominance.

Since there was no traffic, she stopped where she was, took off her sunglasses, leaned over and unlocked the door. My first reaction was shock. This was a very attractive woman. No sign of that flabby look. Shoulder length blonde hair, not natural she said but so what. Sitting behind the wheel, she looked smaller than the advertised 5'9", but not enough to warrant a complaint. Certainly, in good shape though I couldn't tell anything about strength. Still, I was ready to bet the ranch we were going to have fun.

We chatted a bit as she drove. Small talk but interesting. Her soccer career, including a select team international tour, a full scholarship, and various awards. The twenty five pounds she'd dropped after deciding the body builder look was not what she wanted. A tour guide's description of the area and the difficulties in finding a good place to locate a dungeon. Her new web page. Her disappointment in the pictures which still hinted strongly of the 175lb woman who was now 145. My immediate exclamation that she was much better looking than the web pictures suggested.

Then we were in the dungeon surrounded by the various tools and accoutrements of the domination trade, facing each other on the mat. The mat was smaller than I would have liked but I'd found with Malibu that it was possible to wrestle on small mats when you started on your knees and locked up immediately. We'd discussed what she should wear. I pleaded relative indifference - the less the better, so long as she was comfortable and it held up to the strains of straight wrestling. She'd come back in a black two piece of medium modesty. With her body exposed, there was no longer any doubt about her. We were the same size and looked evenly matched. She had upper body strength, she had strong abs, she had muscular legs. I tried to stay cool and not stare, but I couldn't have designed a more perfect body to suit my tastes.

I figured I was probably stronger upper body, and she would be more effective with her legs. She explained that to me as well, suggesting that if she caught me in a scissors I was in trouble. And she was ready to fight..

At this point tension is unavoidable. Her dark eyes, which had twinkled before, before, were now glowing. Obviously, when she said she loved competition, she meant it. We were about to know a lot about each other, not the least of which was whether either of us could establish superiority. While she advertised only semi-competitive she was more than willing to start all out to see how we matched up and then make whatever adjustments were necessary. We sparred a bit, collar and elbow. I slipped behind her and tried to pull her over my hip. She kept her knees under her by anticipating the direction I would pull her. When I shifted back she countered that as well. I switched tactics, catching her in a half nelson in an attempt to put her on her back. I got her on her side but there it was a stand off. We were already sweating and breathing hard. I pushed hard with all the strength I could muster, then released and allowed her momentum to help turn her under me. Sliding my left arm under her head and pushing my head into her right shoulder. I was sure I had her as I felt her body bucking and twisting under me. What a rush. She'd wear down. She'd already said she wasn't in good shape.

I turned my head, which had been facing away from her, and lifted it a little so I could see her reaction. Defiance. She caught my eye. "No way. Not even close."

She didn't actually say it, but I felt it just as I felt my body rolling over. I'd over balanced slightly and now she was straddling me.

"You were pinned. You couldn't get out of that."

"Hey. Told you I'd put up a fight."

The eyes were filled with Texas sized pride. Meanwhile I was facing a problem. I was pinned in a full body press with her left arm holding my head fast against hers. I was now treated to my opposite delight. Struggling against the powerful body that entwined mine. Fortunately (in competitive terms), the hold was not one that provided weight distribution that could immobolize. Nor was she putting enough force in the headlock to make it painful for me to wriggle out.

I worked my head free and used my upper body strength to get to a more even position on our sides. My left leg was still scissored between hers as I pulled my right foot back to provide the base to push her back over. In a flash her left leg released mine and was over my side. I stupidly reached back to pull it off, raising my torso enough for her to slide her right leg up and lock in a body scissor. She rolled on her back. I instinctively pushed forward and she caught me in a front headlock. It was tight, but she didn't twist or jerk it. As she said later, she is scared of neck injuries so she treats necks gently. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about her treatment of my sides.

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.

She smiled up at me, released the scissors and called for a break.

"Whew. Am I ever out of shape? How was that for a first set?"

"Fantastic. I don't think they'll be any need for holding back."

And there wasn't.

We were able to put each other in pinning positions, more often than not with me in control. But invariably she was able to work her way out of what I thought were inescapable positions and I was able to power out or her holds. Neither of us were able to force a submission. Overall I may have been in control for longer periods of time but the scissors holds she had on me put me in more danger than anything I put on her. I did have her once in a reverse hold down, her head under my belly, my arms around her back, head on her belly - again a hold that certainly stimulates me when I see it in pictures, but not one that she gave me any chance to enjoy. It was simply too hard to hold down a woman this strong and this flexible without total concentration. Even given total concentration, this was the only time when I could have interpreted her call for a break as a submission to the pin.

After an extended period of proving our equality on this day, I sensed she was ready for a change - something that would allow for short bursts of energy, guaranteed variety, and frequent breaks. "Tell you what," I offered. "You put me in any pinning hold and I'll see if I can escape."

"Sounds like fun, but that's one sided. Let's make it an equal contest. You put me in a hold (you're the guest) and then after I've escaped, I'll hold you in it."

This lady is competitive, and not about to cede superiority to a man. I had her lie down on her back, sissored her right arm, laid across her chest with her chin tucked against my side, and pulled her right arm out straight in a picture perfect crossbody pin. Maybe perfect for a picture but the technique was lacking. She had her arm out from between my legs in a second, pushed up on my hip while rolling on her left side and had totally neutralized the hold faster than a rodeo cowboy can rope a calf. She had a great manner of exuding satisfaction without gloating.

I came nowhere near matching the speed of her escape. The major difference was that her scissors held my arm fast for the entire time. Only my ability to loosen my left arm and the strength I had to lift her as I rolled to my right got me free.

Raven's turn to choose. And she chose to dominate. A figure four headlock set from above my head while stretching my right arm across her body. She could, of course, have ended it by putting full pressure on the figure four, but the purpose was to render me helpless without relying on pain. She was curled a bit to my side so she could watch my reaction and I was pretty much forced to watch hers. She enjoyed finally putting me completely under her control. Again, no real teasing or gloating. Just pointing out how everything I tried had no effect.

With no hesitation she then instructed me on how to apply the hold. It wasn't easy. Part of the problem is that I strongly believe few, if any of the women who actually wrestle well, get any pleasure out having their head held in a strange man's crotch and thus I hesitate to put one there. I was positive that it wouldn't appeal to Raven. But I think she is able to totally focus on the wrestling hold and since she was in charge of placing her head where the hold required, she could hardly blame me. Finally she had me holding her in a reasonable facsimile of the hold. She was able to move around better than I had, but the end result was the same. She was essentially at my mercy. And, no, given the focus on preventing her from escaping I did not get turned on by that or any other position we twisted each other into during the session.

School girl pins were next. I knew she wouldn't hold me for more than a second whether she sat on my chest or cradled my head between her thighs. Neither Malibu, nor Joanna Needham had and they had substantially more weight and upper body strength. The sad truth about that hold is that unless you're horribly mismatched, you have to fake being unable to escape. I chose to straddle her below her breasts thinking that a lower distribution of weight might help. But again she surprised me with the speed and power with which she threw me off.

A reverse judo hold down and a straddle hold sitting on the back and pulling your opponents arms back over your legs were both impossible for either of us to break out of..

By this time I guessed we had to be over time. Raven certainly wasn't a clock watcher. So I suggested finishing with arm wrestling. I had never tried this in a session and can't actually remember the last time I tried it with anyone. But we both felt I would win easily as I had consistently demonstrated superior upper body strength. Not (as my kids used to say - which suggests how long ago I had kids).

In fact the only embarassing part of the day was the speed with which my right hand hit the mat. We were both in shock. I didn't even get to enjoy feeling my arm being forced down. It was up. It was down. And she didn't jump the gun, didn't use any tricks (but then with the speed it happened how would I have noticed a trick).

The left hand was more what I expected. A struggle but I steadily forced her down to a couple of inches from victory. Then the movement stopped. For a minute I had the sinking feeling that she was toying with me. But I was locked on her eyes (though she broke the gaze frequently to focus on her arm) and could tell she was going all out. It was simply one final example of what a tremendous competitive spirit she had. With Raven, what you get, you earn.

We had the lunch. It was as good as the wrestling. If I were not old enough to be her father, not happily married, and more the type of guy she'd be interested in .. Suffice it to say she's intelligent, considerate, fun, and shares a lot of the same views of the world that I do. She's also come through an awful lot for roughly thirty years of living and I think has come through it all remarkably well.

Would I go back again? Absolutely. She's a great experience just the way she is. If she keeps her word about taking up judo and improving her aerobic conditioning, she'd be heaven for me.

Not that she's as out of shape as she seems to feel or as she looked to me in her web pictures (some of which have been changed and some action (posed) shots added which more closely suggest her current appearance). No woman my size or smaller could wrestle as long as she did in the constant action manner I prefer and be out of shape. But she's been in world class shape and uses that as a comparison. In that kind of shape and with a little better technique, she'd experience the satisfaction of hearing me tap out on a consistent basis. I'd love to feel her do it.