We stood up and went to opposite corners of the mat -- getting ready to lock up for the second point we needed -- an erotic submission hold. Randy squeezed his cock and balls back into his tiny garment while I adjusted the loincloth to make sure it was -- at least -- in the position it was supposed to be even if it was no longer keeping my hard cock hidden, and moved towards each other ...
Our arms wrapped around each other and our chests slapped together. I was ready for fighting but Randy's arms wrapped around me more in an embrace than a wrestling hold. His hands moved up and down my back, his fingers lightly caressing me while I clasped my hands behind his neck -- trying to concentrate on our wrestling match and not fall victim to the wonderful sensations he was sending up my spine. We maneuvered each other around the mat a bit -- almost dancing -- and I should have realized that he was luring me into a false sense of security so my defenses would be sufficiently lowered before he struck.
And even when he struck it was as slow and sensuous as having his fingers rub up and down my backside. He moved away from me a little and brought his hands up to the front of my chest, rubbing my pecs. I dropped my hands to his sides and held him at his hips, allowing his fingers to massage my chest gently. It felt so good, his fingers gently rubbing and caressing my chest. I closed my eyes as he lovingly massaged my front ...
... and the moment I remember that this was supposed to be a wrestling match was when his thumbs and forefingers clamped down on each of my nipples -- squeezing them and stretching them out.
"OW! OW-W-W-W-W!!" I yelped, bouncing on the balls of my feet. My hands went to his wrists to try to pry him off of me but they were now two vice clamps and he was not letting go.
"Damn it, Randy! DAMN IT!" I bounced on my feet as he worked my nipples. Now ... I have had guys "torture" my nipples before, from opponents on a wrestling mat to boyfriends in the bedroom. And all of them have learned a debilitating secret about me that I prayed Randy would not discover. I have incredibly sensitive nipples. My last boyfriend -- the philanderer in Los Angeles -- had been a lover of nipple play and worked my pecs over every time we had sex, so I had built up a bit of a resistance to it. I had never timed myself but I figured I could last maybe four or five minutes like this, but no longer. My nipples were already sending little knives of sensations throughout my nervous system and my brain was screaming "BREAK HIS WRISTS! DO SOMETHING!" while my cock was throbbing and pushing aside the front flap of a loincloth to beg him to "play with me instead!"
Randy looked at me. His look was dead serious -- all business. "Want to give up?" he asked me casually. Of course I didn't -- not with the first hold he put me in. However, I realized that if I wasn't able to escape I was, indeed, going to have to give up and -- even if I did escape -- Randy knew how sensitive my chest was now and would certainly use it to his advantage again if he was as good a wrestler as I feared.
"NO!" I screamed, revealing how much I was suffering.
"Come on," he continued calmly. "It's no shame to give up so soon. Even if it is because I'm just playing with your nipples."
"Fuck you" I said angrily, struggling to pry his hands away from me but he was locked on tight. I had to think of something. I looked at him as he stared at my chest -- methodically working his "hold" -- concentrating on my nipples as he stretched and twisted them and not showing any sign of letting go until I submitted.
My mind was starting to go blank. Images were racing through it and none of them about the wrestling match I was supposed to be having. I could feel my knees shaking and was afraid I was going to drop to the mat -- and I knew Randy would not loosen his grip if I did -- and if he could get me on my back and straddle me while twisting and stretching my nipples ...
I reached down and wrapped my hands around his cock and balls -- one hand on either side of it. I closed them around his package and squeezed and pulled on it, possibly harder than I should have, but you know what "desperate times" call for! Randy's eyes went wide and his fingers fell from my nipples and down to my wrists. He screamed a loud "WHOOOAAAA!!" as I cupped his package most prized possessions and stretched them away from him.
"Now ... how about you give up?" I growled.
"Not ... going to happen!" he said between deep, fast breaths. I held him tight -- pulling his cock out and up. He yelled again and his hands went to my shoulders, pinching and squeezing my trapezoids. Hard. I closed my eyes and moaned as he did this and yelled "that's not an erotic hold!"
"You're right," He said as he continued to dig his fingers into my shoulder muscles. "It's an escape attempt! But maybe I should ... try to get you to submit ... instead?!" And, as I feared, his fingers went back to my nipples -- still sore from his last assault -- and clamped onto them tightly. Much tighter this time. There was no careful, steady, merciless working over this time. He was squeezing the fuck out of them and I saw stars.
"OW! FUCK!" I screamed. We both stood there for a few moments. Me squeezing and pulling while he was pinching and twisting. Neither one of us were going to give up, it seemed. Randy's knees bent in an attempt to drop to the mat and hopefully free his cock and balls but as he dropped I went with him. Now both of us were on our knees on the mat -- me yanking his manhood while he twisted and pulled on my tits. We stayed like this for a while, both of us panting and moaning and neither able to escape or do anything to take control of the situation. He stared at my nipples and I stared at his cock as we worked the other man in our "holds" for a long time.
"So ... now what?" I finally said, realizing we were at a stalemate.
"Well," he thought about his answer. "Either we call it a draw and try some other holds ..."
"Neither one of us are going to let that happen" I said, to which he nodded in agreement.
