Jenny vs Mitch

I was clad in a red sports leotard, red being the colour of blood and war. Mitch was wearing white shorts. While I usually wanted wearing as little as possible, and sometimes with nothing on, this was a serious match, and I dressed accordingly.

We faced off, not even bothering to shake hands. I don't shake hands with people I don't respect, and I never respect my opponents. I sized Mitch up. I am stronger than he is, he didn't have a chance. This was going to be fun, and another man would learn a lesson about challenging me.

We locked up, and I easily pushed Mitch back. Mitch had to know I was stronger than him, I think he wanted to make sure my muscles were ready. We locked up again, and I instantly locked him in a headlock, grinding it in.

"Really Mitch, a lockup?" I said. "Don't you know who you're dealing with?"

It took some effort, but Mitch was able to break the headlock and he nodded at me. We jockeyed for position and openings and I found one, levelling him with a clothesline out of nowhere. Mitch went flying. I was on top of him in a flash, just dominating him on the mat, not giving him a chance to breathe. I locked him in various holds and positions on the mat that had to be unpleasant for him, and he did all he could to not instantly submit or be pinned. After a few minutes of fun, I let him go.

"Oh, didn't know I could mat wrestle?" I taunted. "This is going to be so much fun!"

Mitch speared me into the mat, but I turned him over and got on top of him again and began trying to pin his shoulders down, while he tried to resist. Mitch is tough, but I'm tougher and stronger and soon was straddling him and finally got him in a schoolgirl pin. 1 ... 2 ... Mitch kicked out. We kept doing this until I knew I could pin him. 1 ... .2 ... but I lifted his shoulder up.

"Really, Mitch?" I taunted. "You think you're going to get off that easily? You wish!"

I pulled him up, and kneed him right in the stomach and he doubled over. I picked him up and hit him with a suplex, and then locked him in a bearhug, Mitch was screaming out in pain, and I was loving every minute of it. I don't know if he would've quit, but I released the hold.

"I don't want to hug you, you pussy, even if it does cause you pain," I taunted. "The only reason I am touching you is because I want to destroy you."

Mitch got up, starting to look beat up, and I put up my fists and began taunting him. I'm usually good at slugouts as it is, but I was on fire and Mitch was lagging. We faced off, and I just unloaded on him. He couldn't duck simply because he couldn't get out of the way of my onslaught. He remained steady, as I just abused his chest and he couldn't get anything on me besides some glazing shots.

I nailed him square in the stomach and he doubled over, I quickly picked him up and suplexed him again, and then gave him some belly to belly suplexes and throws. His cries of anguish echoed the room with each time he thudded.

"I just want to give you a tour of the whole place," I taunted. "Let you see what it has to offer."

Mitch didn't say anything, he couldn't. He was in too much pain. I locked in some more holds and positions on the mat, gleefully taunting him the whole way. I stood him up and dared him to swing at me. He unleashed a haymaker that I easily dodged, and I nailed him some more. This time he fell with a thud to the mat.

I had to save some stuff for the second fall, so after some more suplexing, I bodyslammed him right in the centre.

"Mitch, you're going to like this part," I taunted. "Well you won't, but I will, and that's all that matters. I am control."

One of my enemies was Brent, who was Sara's biggest rival and was becoming a rival to me too. He liked to finish girls off with his running powerslam, and I started using it, just because I wanted to show I was better and stronger than he was.

I picked Mitch up and destroyed him with the running powerslam. He was in so much pain that he didn't even scream out, he was accepting his fate like so many other men have against me.

"It's almost insulting having to cover you Mitch, because it implies that you might kick out," I taunted. "But rules are rules."

I covered him for the 1 ... 2 ... 3. That was it, I had won fall one and was up 1-0.

I sat on him and flexed and preened. After each fall, we had agreed there would be enough time off so everyone could get as close to 100 percent. I didn't need any time off, I was ready for destruction, but Mitch sure did.

Sara faced Bob as we waited for Mitch to cover. He went into another room, I think he was too ashamed to look at me. As Sara was dominating Bob, I was getting tingly at all the stuff I was going to do to him in fall 2.

Finally, after Sara was dominating Bob to the point that even he wanted Mitch to recuperate just to end his misery, Mitch popped out.

After fall 1, I was ready to have fun and go scandalous. Mitch had no chance, he sucked.

"Mitch, if you're going to be the joke I thought you were, I shouldn't waste sweat on these clothes," I said, as I took off his shorts. "On the bright side, you'll at least get a half naked woman dominating you in this round. Then again, given how much Sara whips your loser ass, you're probably used to it."

As Mitch walked to the mat, I would not shut up.

"I feel kind of ripped off," I taunted. "This is supposed to be a grudge match, yet my opponent seems to have a grudge against showing up. Not that I'm complaining, but if I wanted to demolish someone tonight, I could've just faced your pussy of a brother."

Mitch just nodded. He didn't say a word or show any expression. Bob did the introductions for fall 2 while holding his neck, and we faced off.

We continued to stare down and I kept taunting Mitch. As I laid out one more diss, out of nowhere, he smacked me right in the face. That hurt. Shit was on.

I clutched my face and before I knew it, Mitch forearmed me right in the same spot. Before I could do anything about it, I ate a spear from him and collapsed to the mat with Mitch right on type of me. His eyes looked blank, he showed no emotion. I could tell he had one thing on his mind, which was kicking the crap out of me. Mitch started thrashing me up and down, not giving me any wiggle room. I had no way to throw him off, if he sensed any advantage, he would just shift his weight or grab another body part. It sucked and I was starting to tire from trying to break all his holds and throw him off, while he looked like he could do this all day.

Mitch locked me in a body scissors, but after a few moments, I had enough energy and broke the hold. Mitch then clotheslined me back and locked me in another body scissors, this time also trying to turn it into a choke. I gasped for breath, but I was again able to break it. No matter what Mitch does I told myself, you're still stronger than him.

Mitch then took me down and crossfaced me. I screamed out in pain and my eyes were watering. I bit my tongue, as I regretted screaming. I didn't want Mitch to know how much he was hurting me. I hadn't taken a beating this badly since I lost to Brent. At least he was stronger than me, Mitch was just beating me on pure will to win. Did I finally say one taunt too many? Was this my karma for all the stuff I had said to him?

As I was struggling with what to do, I noticed the "ropes", and was able to stuck out my hand. Losing is one thing, but I'll be damned if I was going to submit to him. Mitch broke the hold, and cursed. I tried to get up, but Mitch got back me down, and we again began mat wrestling.

Despite my strength, I did not have what Mitch had and in fall 2 it was becoming The Mitch Show. Like earlier in the match he was again getting me in holds and positions and with each one, I was getting more and more tired. He then advanced trying to pin me, but I was able to throw him off.

I threw him off, and before he knew it, I caught him with a clothesline. I was back in control, and now we go to school. I went to clothesline him again, but he ducked, grabbed me and was able to throw me. Mitch was a strong guy, and he caught me by surprise. After throwing me, I got so pissed that I charged at him. He sidestepped me, locked his arms around me and gave me a German suplex. Dishing out that move so much, I forgot how much it hurt and began clutching my neck.

Mitch then locked me in another crossface. I was in so much pain and this time I couldn't hold it in anymore. I began screaming out in pain and actually stuck my hand out ready to tap. But I couldn't bring myself to it, and fought with all my might to not do it. I dug down deep, pushed as hard as I could and I broke Mitch's grip. Upon breaking it, I just fell back on the mat.

I didn't feel Mitch on me for a second, and wondered what he was doing, and I heard Bob go "No way, dude."

Before I could do anything about it, I couldn't breathe. Mitch was choking me out with his shorts. I gagged and did everything I could to get him off me. Sara just looked shocked. And Mitch wasn't taunting, he wasn't smiling, he was just driven. Thankfully, he stopped the choking, and I again fell flat on my back on the mat, openly grimacing and screaming in pain.

I saw Mitch getting up and I did everything I could to come at him, but it wasn't happening. He blocked everything I tried, kneed me in the gut and this time was suplexing me. The suplexing culminated in a very painful belly to belly suplex.

I again was laid out on the mat, flat out on my back. Before I knew it, I had the wind knocked out of me again. Mitch had delivered his frog splash. He covered me. I didn't even think of kicking out. I just wanted it to be over.

Mitch covered me. 1 ... .2 ... .3. Mitch had won fall 2 and we were tied up 1-1. The third fall would decide it all.

Mitch went over and shook Bob's hand and hugged Sara. He just walked by me, again saying nothing.

I sat there and stewed. I was on fire in fall 1, and now I was on the defensive. Now Mitch was in the driver's seat. Not since I started out had I ever been dominated before, Brent had destroyed me, but at least I got some offence to start. He had treated me like I treat his big brother Scott. I knew one thing: that was not happening again. Fall 3 was going to be war.

Sara again took on Bob as I took the time to recuperate. I think Mitch also needed time to catch his breath. Watching Sara dominate Bob and treat him like a child reminded me of the power of female domination and made me know that I could do this. I thought of putting my clothes back on, but I didn't want Mitch to think he had me rattled.

Fall 3-

Bob went to do the introductions, and I shoved him to the ground, and went up straight to Mitch and smacked him in the face. He flinched and smacked me right back.

I put up my fists and he put up his, and we began slugging it out. Unlike fall 1, this was much more even and we both landing bombs on each other. I didn't have the helpful padding of a bra and Mitch targeted that, and I targeted his body. I tried looking for an opening to nail him in the nuts, but he was smart and gave me none. But I was ready to outslug him and just started getting in close and targetting him and soon his resistance fell. I dropped him with a combination to his body.

Now, I usually would bring up how he hadn't outslugged me yet, or flex or say something, but I kept my mouth shut. No need to give the guy any motivation. I could taunt and rub it in when I felt the match was in hand.

But winning the slugfest made me real good and gave me some confidence that I was lacking. As Mitch went out, we began doing some more mat wrestling. And I felt back in control, but Mitch was good. It was a very even contest that would've made any scientific wrestler proud. I was on the offensive, but Mitch was more than holding his own. He had answer for everything I threw at him and would even get some holds on me.

After failing to really get any sustained submission on him, we both got up and faced off. I actually nodded at him and he nodded back. We locked up. As always, I pushed him back into the corner, and quickly began chopping his chest. Mitch tried to duck out, and push me in the corner, but he forgot my strength. I just shook my head, sent him back into the corner and abused his chest.

I speared him to the mat, and I was starting to feel good. This was looking to be like Fall 1, albeit my opponent was giving me a little more push back. I grabbed Mitch by the hair, and walloped him with another smack. I locked his arms in a test of strength, and was easily winning. I knew what Mitch was going to do, so as I saw him move his knee, I kneed him as hard as he could. He doubled over, and I suplexed him into the mat.

I rocked him with a jackhammer suplex. Usually after jackhammer suplexes, I include a little smother, but this was not the time and the place. I wanted to win. I covered Mitch, but he kicked out at 2. I grabbed him, and gave him a bodyslam. Sensing victory, I went for a big splash. As I lept in the air, to my horror, I saw Mitch move out of the way. I crashed to the mat with a thud and felt the wind go out of my body.

Mitch instantly turned over and locked me in a body scissors. Body scissors suck, but they really suck when you had no air to begin with. For a second I felt like I was going to pass out, but I got my wits about me and broke the hold. Mitch stood over me, waiting for me to get up. I got up and he put up his fists and I put up mine. No way was I turning down a slugout.

We again went at it, but being winded really hurt me and Mitch was having his adrenaline rush. My chest was soon a bright colour of red from all the times he targeted it and I began screaming and yelling in pain like I did in fall 2. I hated losing, and I hated losing slugouts. I kept hitting Mitch back whenever I could, and while he got more shots; I kept willing myself to go on. I stared at his balls, wanting to do anything to just give him a big shot, but I couldn't. Finally my body had enough. Mitch nailed me right in the stomach and then got me clean in the chest in a perfect 1-2 combination. He had achieved a knockdown.

Mitch got on top of me and it was back to more mat wrestling. He was in control now, and I was on the defensive like in fall 2. He kept locking in holds that I could break but it kept expanding my energy to break them. He locked in another body scissors that stung, and I again was screaming and grunting. It took enough grunting, but I rolled out of it. I tried to crawl to the corner, but Mitch was right on me. He turned to Sara and winked, and then locked in a headscissors. He was lying on his side, just like she did.

I may have called Mitch many words, but his legs were strong and they fucking hurt. It took me a second while in the hold to regain my bearings, and then I tried to figure out whether to go for the "ropes" or break the hold. Psychologically, I figured it would be better to go for the break. I did everything I could, wiggling, straining and grunting, and eventually broke the hold. But while breaking the hold was nice, I couldn't muster a sustained offence. Often times in previous matches with Mitch, he would grab the ropes when I locked in my finishing holds, but I could simply drag him back and lock it in again and win. That couldn't happen here.

Mitch went back to the crossface and I again started screaming in pain. I put out my hand as for a second I forgot about winning and just hoped to survive. But the crossface reminded me of bra choke, and the bra choke pissed me off. Fuck him, I thought, I have to win this. I again willed myself, and I broke the hold. I lay on the mat for a second, thinking of any sort of plan or an opening.

Mitch gave me that. He grabbed my hair and as he was pulling me off, I saw what I could do. Out of nowhere, I took out my fist and slugged him right in the balls. Mitch screamed in agony and fell over. I began to get fired u. I was careful not to taunt, but I was ready to win.

I grabbed Mitch and pulled him up, and we began slugging it out again. But this was not like the previous one. His balls were still so sore and any sign I made to target them left a big opening. He could block ballshots, but he couldn't block shots to his chest and stomach, and one point, I clocked him right in the nose, leaving a trail of blood. That sent him back down to the mat.

I didn't give him a chance to breathe, and I picked him up and began suplexing the hell out of him. I hit him with multiple German suplexes. I covered him, ready to win the match, but he kicked out. I was pissed off, and gave him a few chops to show my frustration. I picked him up and delivered a suplex, holding him up in the air for emphasis. I may have been fatigued, but I had to show my strength. He landed with a thud and he was screaming, "Oh God, oh fuck."

I went over to cover him and began to smile. He had his spots, but it was my time. I even allowed myself a little flex. But as I covered him, he caught me by surprise and got me in a small package. 1..2 ... NO! I barely kicked out. That fuck.

I was pissed now, I grabbed him, and it was slam exhibition time. I bodyslammed him, then gave him a scoop slam and a powerslam. With each thud, Mitch hit the mat, and cried and screamed in agony. He wanted mercy, but was not getting any.

I just barely was able to give him a press slam. I knew I'd be too drained to give him a press slam while doing reps with him, so I decided to just end it and hit the running powerslam. A few times, Brent had had Sara beat and went for his powerslam, but Sara would slip out and surprise him. I should've remembered that.

I scooped Mitch up and as I went for the running powerslam, like Sara, he slipped my grip and landed on his feet. I turned down, and Mitch kicked me as hard as he could in the stomach. I screamed again and just doubled over.

On adrenaline, Mitch wouldn't let me take a second, he got right in my face, and we began slugging it out again. Like in the previous slugout, the fighter with the adrenaline was on control and this time he wouldn't let me get an inch. He got me in the nose, and this time we were both bleeding. The blood energised both of us, and I could hear Bob and Sara both exclaim as they saw the level we were pushing us too.

Mitch won the round, just levelling my tits over and over. I fell over and Mitch got me in the headscissors again. I was lucky to be near the "ropes" and Mitch had to break them again. Mitch quickly picked me up and began slamming me. Mitch couldn't press slam me, but he made those slams count and I might as well have been seeing stars at this point.

Mitch covered me. 1 ... 2 ... .NO, just on instinct I kicked out. Mitch picked me up and delivered a sickening gordbuster suplex, planting me face-first. That was the finisher of his brother's girlfriend. The crossface was Bob's submission hold. The headscissor's was Sara's. Mitch was pulling out all the stops.

He covered me, 1 ... 2 ... .NO! I kicked out at the last past possible second. I don't even know how. As I lay on the mat, I saw Mitch head up, he was ready to hit his frog splash. I could tell he was exhausted like I was. Even though he was in control, it takes a lot to administer these moves.

Often in Mitch's matches against me, his undoing was going for the frog splash, as I would move out of the way and regain control. But as he told Sara, he had thought of everything he could, so he might as well go for something high risk. If it didn't pay off, well, he probably wouldn't have won anyway.

It took Mitch a little while to get up there, as he was breathing heavily. As this was happening, I told myself that somehow, someway, I would not lose this match. Instead of moving out of the way I willed myself and basically stood there, almost daring him to come at me.

 
Mitch was a little flustered but he came off with a crossbody press. With all my remaining strength, I caught him in mid-air. I put him in the slam position and just drilled him with a running powerslam. Upon completing the move, I collapsed back on the mat. As I lay there, Mitch spoke for the first time all night.

"You won," Mitch said, pausing to wince and exclaim in pain with each word. "You're better than me. You're the better wrestler. I lost."

It sounded so heartfelt and so sad. Usually a wrestler would only say that if I was locking him in holds and not letting him go unless he praised and worshipped me. But here was Mitch admitting that he had left it all on the mat, and had nothing left.

"Thank you Mitch," I said, taking a deep breath and also wincing with each word. "I know you're sincere, but you did play possum earlier, so I have to do this."

I went over to him and locked him in my Regal stretch. It took about a second. He was done.

"I give, I give," Mitch said, and I instantly released the hold. He slumped down on the mat, lying there facefirst.

I had won the grudge match, I was officially the better wrestler. I thought of all those early matches where he would outsmart me, or handicap matches where would take advantage of my inexperience and dominate me. Times had changed, the torch had been passed. Now I was the better wrestler. It felt great, even though I could barely stand.

After a big swig of water, I went over to hug Sara and gave Bob a bearhug. I then went back to Mitch and sat down on his chest in a schoolgirl position. He thought he knew what was coming next.

"I'm not going to smother or facesit you," I said. "I don't think I've ever been in a match like this. We left it all on the mat. I would apologise for taunting you, but that's how I am. I always say, if you don't like my taunting, shut me up. And you did."

Mitch nodded. Aside from being in tremendous pain, I could tell he was disappointed, but I hoped he had known the performance he put on.

"I always say that I never respect my opponents," I said. "But that changed tonight. I have all the respect in the world for you. You were just incredible. Hold your head up high. And anytime you want a rematch ...

"I don't think I want to fight you for a long time," Mitch said, with a slight smile.

I laughed and got off him and went to go rest up. I heard Sara pulling him up and giving him a big hug and telling him how great he was, with Bob giving him props. I laughed when Bob said he had never punished me like that before. He certainly hadn't.

Mitch and me met again in the centre of the mat and shook hands and we hugged. He lifted my arm in victory. It was weird but it felt good to actually have respect and admiration for my opponent.

The grudge match had done its job. A better wrestler had been declared, and a grudge was healed.