Nude Lesbian Wrestling Erika Round 01

SUMMARY: the first round of an erotic lesbian wrestling match, as seen from a timid college student participant.

NOTE 1: Hello! This story is derived from silkstockinglover's great story

Nude Lesbian Wrestling: Coed Tricked

, from which I retained the rules (with light adaptation) and general kink usage

with her full permission

. If that setup turned you on, this piece is for you! I hope you enjoy my first submission for this site as much as I did writing it.

-

General Rules

The No-nos

1. No unsportsmanlike conduct will be allowed. Wrestlers may be disqualified and automatically be sent to an EXTREME BONUS ROUND.

2. The list of unsportsmanlike contact activities:

-punching, slapping or kicking

-biting or pinching

-choking, eye gouging or head butting

The format:

1. Each match has three wrestling rounds and one BONUS round.

2. Each round is eight minutes in length. (Bonus round can be a maximum of thirty)

Scoring:

Points Activity

5.......................Bikini top off

10.....................Bikini bottom off

2 per sec.........Kissing lips

1 per sec.........Kissing neck or body

1 per sec.........Breast fondling

2 per sec.........Ear nibbling

2 per sec.........Breast nipple sucking

1 per sec.........Pussy touching

3 per sec.........Pussy finger insertion

5 per sec.........Pussy licking

10 per sec.......Pussy fisting

3 per sec.........Ass finger insertion

1 per sec.........Breast smothering

4 per sec.........Face sitting (pussy must be making contact with opponent's mouth or nose)

100....................Your opponent orgasms on the mat

Tag Team Rules

1. A tag made by the out of bound wrestler can be made on any part of her partner's body.

2. The wrestler not in the ring can move around, but not go inside the ring to make a tag.

3. Once a tag has been made the two have one minute together on the mat; a buzzer will alert the tagged wrestler when she must leave the ring.

4. Once a double tag assault has ended, you are not allowed to tag your partner again for at least one minute.

5. Unless it occurs during a double tag assault, if a wrestler has an orgasm on the mat, it automatically tags their partner in.

6. Wrestlers outside of the ring are considered out of combat, and cannot score points or have points scored against them.

The bonus round:

Whoever gets the most points after three rounds is declared the winner. The loser must obey every sexual command of the winner and be her submissive. This may include: pussy eating, strap-on sex in your mouth, pussy or ass, verbal humiliation. Playful spanking, hair pulling, double maybe even triple penetration and any other submissive act ordered by the winner.

EXTREME BONUS ROUND:

If you are assessed an extreme bonus round you will be bound and used by any wrestlers at the end of the night who wish to do so.

I read the leaflet in front of me another time, partially in disbelief over what I'd really signed up for. I wouldn't call myself a prude, I'd had my fair share of fooling around, but I wasn't the sort of girl to whore herself out. At least, that's what I believed at the time.

It was my roommate Zarah's fault that I was sitting in a run-down "locker room" half naked. She'd pitched signing up together as a fun way to make a quick buck, a frisky night out bonding as roommates. Again, I'm no prostitute, but I certainly was in desperate need of a cash bonus: whoever said college living was free and easy ought to be shot. The $500 bounty I was pitched to string along tonight wasn't the worst solution. Our "practice sessions" together thereafter were a fine enough benefit, too.

A swift hand fell upon my shoulder, jostling me a bit. "So," Zarah greeted me from behind, squeezing a little. "That bikini fits nicely on someone for a change."

I turned around on the bench to face her. Zarah is the sort of girl whose smile never leaves her face, and always conceals some trickery. Jet-black curly hair frames a gorgeous face, a sea of freckles on tan skin forming around dark, slim eyes. She's athletic, but curvy -- the perfect balance of body type to make me a little insecure about revealing myself in her presence. I've got the bigger tits, though, so she can fuck off with that.

"What do you mean, for a change?" I asked. I wasn't very fond of the paper-thin green thong and bra Zarah had picked out for our team uniform, but she indicated the remainder of the selections were just as unflattering. "Is it not supposed to?"

"Normally, they keep these loose, for easy removal. They won't stay on for long anyways." Zarah crouched down as she explained, reaching eye level with my tits.

"I don't know. Feels pretty loose on me." I lied, well aware my thighs pushed the fabric a little.

"Right. Spread your legs." Zarah commanded.

"What?"

"Spread them."

I did as I was asked. Zarah's eyes trailed down my body, and admired the scene between my legs. You could see the folding of my lady parts through the shitty thong if you looked close, and Zarah was looking plenty. Her smile grew just a sliver, and a strange flare entered her eyes. I had seen it before, but it still scared me, just a little.

I quivered a little as Zarah slid her hand on my knee, tracing my inner thigh and giving the outline of my clit a brief caress through my thong.

"Next time we do this, shave," She instructed. All I could muster was a strained nod. "Good. The other girls will get into it more that way."

With that, she stood and walked along, nearing the exit. Knocking myself together out of my quick pleasure high, I got up from the bench.

"And who are the other girls?" I stammered. "For tonight. The ones we're..."

"Fucking. You're looking for the word fucking. Charlie Damson and Maia Ramos. I think you have some chem class with one of them?" Zarah answered. "Organic Biochemistry 102, with Ms. Ramos. Is that right?"

Maia? That couldn't be. She was a dancer, the superfit kind that did flips at football games, and a class crush of mine. I was always under the impression she didn't swing that way, though, so I could never muster the guts to talk to her.

"Must be so. Thunder thighs on that bitch." Zarah smirked at my dumbstruck silence, checking herself out in a wall-length mirror. "People I see here surprise me. Here, come stand by me."

I obliged, and viewed the pair of us in the mirror. When I gave myself a proper look, I was appalled -- I looked hot. My wavy brown hair fell nicely along the straps of the thin bikini top, almost concealing them. My gaze pierced into itself: stellar green eyes filled with sun adorned a button nose. I ran my hands along the natural curviness of my body, a little obsessed with the slight turns of my frame. Not to mention, tits. Always a plus to have. I heard somewhere that my early 20's is my peak of attractiveness, and, for the first time in a while, I believed it.

"Erika!" Zarah had left the mirror as I was caught in my own image, standing at the open door. "Youlook good. Get over it and meet me outside."

With that, she was gone. I looked around the locker room, unsure of what to do in such an obscene situation. My clothes lie on the far end of the bench, covered by a baggy sweater, an cartoon image of a Terrier and the words "MACKENZIE U" spelled out in block letters. I could have put it on right then, went back to my dorm and to bed, pretending this never happened.

I looked in the mirror once more. My body commanded me to give it some proper use, my womanhood pouring out of the cheap bikini with determination to be let to run wild. My green eyes held a trace of something I'd not felt in a long while. Something scary. Something lustful.

I pulled myself together with a sigh, and took off out the door.

Taking Zarah's side, I assessed this new room: it looked like an old wrestling facility I'd seen in school photos from a long while back, outfitted with new paint and flooring made entirely of cushioned athletic mats, which my feet sank into.

"Right on time, hot stuff." Zarah whispered. "Check out the competition."

I turned my glance to the opposite side of the room, where I found Maia Ramos staring right at me, poorly concealing a look of surprise. She was beyond attractive: her deeply tanned and muscular thighs (and modest breasts) neatly slid into a faded yellow bikini made entirely of mesh. I wasn't sure what it was attempting to conceal, as both up top and down below the full detail of her genitalia was plenty visible. Her surprise at my presence turned into a quick smile -- perfect white teeth that stood out among her complexion -- and a wave in my direction, at which I turned away, blushed red with embarrassment.

As she stood in my periphery, I realized for the first time that I had several inches of height on her. Perhaps, if I could swing it, I had a chance to dominate her fit frame as a path to victory. That was, of course, only if the mere sight of her didn't leave me entirely at her mercy.

Charlie, on the other hand, offered no such path. She was about my height, with curves that matched or even surpassed my own. She scared me, not because of her physical stance, but the unabashed confidence which carried it. Her dimples showed in an unaffected smile as she twirled her bright-red hair. By my judgment, Charlie had been through this rodeo before -- probably many times. Probably she'd won. I wasn't sure how to face that.

"I'll take the mat first. Just watch and follow my cue." Zarah explained. "If I try to tag you, don't leave me hanging."

"I won't." I promised.

"Good. You've got this," Zarah gave me a look of reassurance and a quick squeeze to my right tit. "Just like we practiced."

I reeled a little bit at her grasp, partially because Zarah knew her way around maximizing pleasure to my tits at this point, and partially out of shock that that was the case. My randomly assigned roommate, Zarah was perfect. Hardworking, sweet Zarah, who toured bright-eyed teenagers around campus most days; yet, she stood in front of me clad in next to nothing, assessing how best to sexually dominate her peers. Damn, did she look cute doing it.

"Charlie is a good fighter, but she gets too ballsy." Zarah began. "She'll lash out at you, but she makes mistakes. When you're against her, punish them."

"You've fought her before, then?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"She makes a funny face when she cums." Zarah giggled, crossing her eyes and opening her mouth to form a ridiculous mix of shock and pleasure, which amused her far more than it did to me. "Ah, you'll be seeing it soon. The one thing to watch for is her tongue."

"Her tongue?" I repeated, praying Zarah didn't mean what I thought she meant.

"M-hm. Say what you will about her, but she works wonders with it," Zarah explained. "It's her signature. She'll devour your little cunt if she gets the chance to. I almost lost that way. Keep your guard up."

"You know I will." I assured.

"Do I?" Zarah squinted at me, just a little. It was admittedly true that our practice spars rarely ended in my favor. "We'll hope you do better tonight. Tends to run that way."

"Fuck off," I swatted off her jest in a poor attempt at defense against its truth. "Whatever. What about Maia? What does she do? Any weaknesses?"

"I don't know, genuinely," Zarah confessed. "I haven't seen her before. Those thighs scare me. Like she'd..."

"Trap you in them." I finished Zarah's train of thought with exasperation.

"Speaking from experience, I see." Zarah smirked knowingly. "Well, if my trap worked on you then, I wouldn't be so surprised if hers did now. Don't let her pin you under there."

No promises, I thought.

A woman several years my senior -- probably a grad student -- stood at the center of a painted circle on the mat, no larger than 15 feet in diameter, marking the bounds of our match. Nowhere to run.

It was at this moment I realized how hot it was in the room, even though the frigid December air should have pierced from outside. That was intentional, probably.

"Everybody all clear?" The woman asked. I didn't object. "Good. Green team, yellow team, send up your starting bitch."

I lightly scratched Zarah on the back, for good luck. "Let's get that five hundred."

"If we win, yeah." Zarah quipped back, moving just off center of the ring. Charlie, held high in confidence, approached opposing her.

"Wait, what?" I tried to interject, but it was too late. Zarah took a ready stance on her knees, and Charlie matched her pose, viciously eyeing her opponent.

From out of the ring, a whistle blew, starting the first match. There was no turning back now.

ROUND ONE

Charlie approached first, a slow and steady stalk forward as she geared to tackle her prey. Her hands met Zarah's, and the pair gridlocked, pushing back and forth in an attempt to physically overpower the other woman.

With a grunt, Zarah pushed her whole weight onto Charlie, knocking both of them over.

Lightning-quick, Zarah pinned Charlie under her own weight, sitting on the belly of her prey. From my angle, Charlie looked like a pitiful girl under the sheer might of a woman like Zarah. Her reaction betrayed it, too.

"Fuck!" Charlie exclaimed, partially sent on by the weight of Zarah forcing down on her diaphragm. I averted my eyes just a little out of embarrassment; I'd been in the same position.

"You said it, bitch!" Zarah exclaimed, placing Charlie's left arm under her thigh and freeing her own right hand to meddle with Charlie's vulnerable cunt behind her.

"Bikini bottom removed, ten points green!" The grad student -- the ref, I caught on -- shouted out. "Pussy touching started, green!"

I stood mesmerized as Zarah worked a lustful magic against her poor opponent. For a good fifteen seconds, Charlie writhed under Zarah's ass and thighs, eliciting a cacophony of moans and grumbles. They rose and fell with the steady pace of Zarah's fingers, and I could tell Zarah enjoyed it. Maybe I did too. I wouldn't admit that.

Zarah scanned the room, and found my gaze. She gave a hearty grin, never stopping the flow of her hand, and shouted:

"Watch and learn! Stay ready, princess!"

Zarah was showing off. She knew it, too, flaunting her superiority like that, and she had every right to. That was, of course, until Charlie took a different approach, freeing her left arm with a firm tug. As Zarah preoccupied herself with me, Charlie's hand slithered up Zarah's stomach.

"Breast fondling started, yellow!"

Zarah moaned loudly, a tinge of arousal shattering her cocky grin and forcing her guard down for just an instant. An instant, of course, was all Charlie needed to free her second hand, securing both firmly to Zarah's breasts and shoving her torso away from her. Zarah yelped in pleasure and pain as her head slammed into the mat, leaving her dazed as she lay face up on top of Charlie.

Charlie only needed a moment; soon, the pair were back in a strange scuffle, trading blows to the other's composure and equally to her security as a woman. When it appeared Zarah had gained full control, forcing Charlie's weight under her toned legs once more, a quick brush to Zarah's clit through her thong would prompt a quick release, sending them back in contention.

They remained like this for a couple minutes, neither party clearly establishing superiority over the other. Zarah's confidence entering the fight had dissipated significantly, her expression slowly being infiltrated by brushstrokes of horny shock. Towards the end of it, Charlie was gaining ground on Zarah, and knew it: in a bold move, she wrapped her full bodyweight around Zarah, forcing a determination for the victor of their scuffle by what way the pair fell.

Zarah's uncertainty finally caught up to her, and Charlie, taking full advantage, flipped them both over, topping an ass-up Zarah and facing towards her pleasure areas. Charlie liked this immensely, beginning her reign over the vulnerable Zarah with a hard smack to her supple ass.

"You like that, Z?" Charlie taunted Zarah with a sudden lust for power, followed by another smack. "Let's see how it feels without this fucking thong."

"5 points yellow, bikini bottom off!"

Charlie raised her hand to hit Zarah's bare ass, but hesitated a moment. With a small chuckle, she instead reached around her exposed ass and between her legs with a gentle firmness. I knew what had hit us before Zarah even gave the first moan.

"Pussy finger insertion started, yellow!"

Zarah let out a noise of pleasure unlike anything I'd heard from her previously. She bucked like wild under Charlie's weight, clearly turned on by the futility of doing so. Charlie's spare hand pet Zarah's exposed ass, gently restraining her movements before they challenged her iron hold.

"You like that, bitch?" Charlie turned her head to gain a good vantage of Zarah's thrashing head. When Zarah only responded with more squeaking of pleasure, she continued:

"Say it! Say you like it!"

Zarah stumbled to put words together. I looked at the scoreboard in the back: 21 Green - 40 Yellow. We were down 19 points, and that number was rising fast. As Charlie continued pumping her hand in and out of Zarah, a tiny puddle of Zarah's discharge began pooling below her abused cunt. The sight gave me an uncertain arousal. I shook it off quick.

"Zarah!" I cried out. "Get your shit together!"

Zarah gave no coherent response. With a scoff, Charlie moved her free hand gently to Zarah's opening...

"Ass finger insertion started, yellow!"

I gagged a little bit at this. I didn't remember reading that in the rules, or, if I did, I thought it was too outlandish at the time to really happen. Yet, my roommate's asshole fell under siege, her pleasure noises swelling to exasperated shouts, cries for help, for her to just cum already.

I hadn't seen Zarah like this, ever. I blushed knowing this woman had dominated me the whole week before, and was suddenly crumbling to pieces at just a handjob. Her eyes screamed of desperation, of lust, needing a savior to intervene before she exploded at her opponent's mercy.

Did I really have the strength to do this? Could I join in?

"Green team, nearing orgasm!"

Maia stared at me from across the room. She licked her lips a little, imagining some impossible force of lust to be used against me in the third round. Was the match that far gone? I checked the scoreboard again. 21 Green -- 112 Yellow. Fuck.

I took a risk.

"Zarah, you worthless bitch, tag me!" My hand reached. Maia looked surprised, but there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. Charlie, on the other hand, was free to try:

"Oh, no, you don't," She attempted to restrain Zarah, who began sliding the pair pitifully over towards my outstretched hand at the near edge of the mat. In her attempt to do so, though, Charlie very briefly let up her siege against Zarah's pleasure spots, now choking on breaths through drool with arousal. In a last hurrah, Zarah pushed towards me with the full force her quivering legs would allow, stretching out and just barely making contact with my palm.

A buzzer sounded somewhere from the room, and I rushed into the ring's center, tackling Charlie. The next minute was a haze of callouts from the ref:

"5 points green, bikini top off!"

"Breast fondling started, green!"

"Ear nibbling started, green!"

"Pussy finger insertion started, green!"

"Pussy licking started, green!"

Wait, what?

I snapped into reality. I restrained a softly quivering and buck-naked Charlie, my legs and arms wrapped around hers in a complete stranglehold. My teeth softly champed at her ear, biting at hairs and licking her skin. I didn't even feel in control, rather, some mix of arousal and instinct guided my body.