Kjersti’s Return

Mixed and F/F wrestling, 380 pictures 1920x1080 (Full HD), partially CFNM, no blood.

Since Kjersti lost her daughter, Kristin, as her MMA tag team partner, she had been off the scene for a couple of years. This was to the relief of many male tag teams, who had been humiliated at their hands (and feet). As with a lot of successful duos, when one partner leaves, the other achieves nothing without them. However, Kjersti sought a return, and she started training her son, Karsten.

Karsten didn’t take to it as well as Kristin, and it took a lot of patience on Kjersti’s part to get him to qualify. Kjersti, of course, was well-known, and had no difficulty qualifying again; but poor Karsten faced a lot of obstacles – not least his mediocre ability.

But now it was achieved. Home he came with the certificate, and the new mother-son team could fight for Norway, just as the mother-daughter team had done previously. Their first booking was against the Dutch team of Sandra and Margarita. These two lovely young women were both of Hispanic heritage, and in honour of Margarita (the cocktail) they wore shimmering lime-green swimming costumes, with a little Dutch flag above the left thigh.

Kjersti looked very much the cool Nordic beauty, in her light blue swimming costume – the feminine answer to the Vikings of old. Karsten’s shorts were of the same colour and, naturally, both sported the Norwegian flag in the same place as the Dutch girls.

“Let me take each girl on first,” Kjersti had said to Karsten, hoping to soften them up for him.

After the introductions, Karsten and Margarita left the ring for Kjersti and Sandra to face each other. They circled warily, each one paying the other an implicit compliment, before locking up. But from the start, it was Kjersti’s experience that counted. Sandra, she noted, bowed her head too low, so she instantly let go of her opponent, then whipped her arms round her neck, head locking her.

Sandra fought back gamely, at one point looking as if she would free herself, but the older woman bore her down with her superior strength, until she was on her knees. Then, perhaps Kjersti was too ambitious. She attempted a standing head scissor, but Sandra was able to seize her legs and flip her onto her back. However, looking to pin her, she found herself barred by Kjersti’s left leg.

The moves came so fast now that it was difficult even for Karsten and Margarita to keep up with them, let alone an ordinary audience. The initiative seemed to have been passed back to Kjersti, but Sandra’s resistance was formidable all the same. Yet resistance it was, rather than attack, and after some back-and-forth grappling, Kjersti succeeded in placing her opponent in a head scissor.

Supporting herself on her arms, Kjersti lay away from the sitting Sandra and snapped her thighs shut tightly around her neck. Using the hold, she was able to whisk the Dutch girl up, then round in her thighs, before dropping her in a piledriver. She then firmly enveloped her neck in her constricting thighs, and allowed herself a smile when Sandra cried out.

That was it for her. Kjersti counted her out, looked on by a scowling Margarita, who couldn’t wait to enter the ring. That suited Kjersti, and the two locked up instantly. Once again it was head lock time, and once again it was the more mature woman’s strength and experience which told.

Kjersti wore the younger woman down, literally so she was on her front. Already struggling for breath, it was easy enough for the Norwegian to put her into a camel clutch. Sitting on the small of her opponent’s back, while pulling her up by the chin, Kjersti tormented her by fiddling with her nose with one hand. It was almost a distraction for Margarita from the strain in her spine, ribs and neck. Almost. In a variation of the same hold, Kjersti next forced her right knee into the small of Margarita’s back, while pulling her up by the chin.

Sandra watched and shook her head in sympathy for her sister, as Kjersti imprisoned her neck in one of her ferocious head scissors. Lying on her back this time, Kjersti wrapped those awesome thighs of hers around the Latina’s neck and waited for the result. It didn’t take long. Her opponent’s body flopped in defeat, and Kjersti tagged her son into the ring. The tactic of fielding Kjersti first had paid off handsomely, and it was 2:0 to the mother-and-son team.

Karsten approached Margarita, lying prone after the head scissor. It’s unclear what he intended to do, but he was so awkward prowling around her, and over-confident following his mother’s twin victories, that he made himself an obvious target. Margarita, now recovered but feigning unconsciousness, waited until she sensed he was close enough, then lashed out with a kick. Her boot caught him hard on the chest and he went staggering back.

Margarita got up and the two now circled. Karsten high kicked but she deflected it with her leg. She then tried one, but he warded it off with both arms up, protecting his face. He tried a left cross, but she repulsed it with her left arm, while getting in a sneaky punch on his jaw.

Kjersti’s eyes shot heavenwards, frustrated as she was that her son was throwing away the advantage her hard work had gained them. She shook her head as the shapely young woman locked his right arm behind him, and simultaneously punched his left ear.

Keeping hold of the arm and resting it on her breasts just to distract him a bit (“Fair enough,” thought Kjersti, “we’ve all done that.”) she forced him down with her elbow on the back of his neck, so he ended up on his knees. She now twisted his arm behind his back, making him yelp.

After Karsten had roared away considerably, Margarita kept hold of his arm, locking it, and knelt on her left knee over his back. She hauled his arm against her right leg, pulling it the “wrong” say from the elbow. In truth it hurt her leg a little bit, but it was nothing to the pain she was inflicting, as borne out by Karsten’s shouts.

Pleased with the results, she knelt down on both knees, so she sat on the small of his back. Seizing both his wrists, she twisted his arms behind his back, before opting to work on his left arm only. She had so weakened his right arm, that she judged it would be useless to him for the rest of her bout with him, so she might as well give his left one the same treatment. She knelt over it and heaved, smiling sadistically at Karsten’s renewed cries of pain. Then he tapped out. Margarita celebrated the win for the girls’ team, and tagged her sister to take over.

“What an unpleasant sight!” Sandra declared, met with the view of Karsten’s backside while he was on his hands and knees about to get up.

“It’s such bad manners to greet a lady like that!” she mockingly reprimanded him, and kicked him in the balls from behind. Kjersti could hardly complain – she’d done it to men often enough, and the girls knew it. Moreover, the effect was so good, she kicked him again with the other leg.

As Karsten slumped down, Sandra leapt on his back. Hooking her legs around his waist, she put him in an arm triangle choke, both head locking him, and trapping his left arm within the hold. From here, it was a simple graduation to get him into a camel clutch, earning a cheer from Margarita as it was revenge for the one Kjersti had put her in. She remembered the pain all too vividly, and she nodded in approval as her sister did the same to Karsten. If anything, she stretched him even further and Kjersti had done her.

As if this hadn’t done enough harm to his upper body, Sandra now put him in a cavernaria, which is like a camel clutch, only upside down. Lying underneath him, on his knees, she rammed her knees into the small of his back and dragged him back by his wrists, while of course her knees pushed him forwards. It was showing off, if you like, and would have achieved the same as simply sticking to the camel clutch. On the other hand, why not show off your skills at the many complex moves and holds? Especially if it earned the team points (which it did).

But now, Sandra showed just how versatile she could be. Still lying underneath Karsten, she seemed to get him into a head/body scissor combined with a full Nelson. You really had to see it to understand it. On her back, she put her legs up vertically under his armpits, placing his ribs in a scissor; but because she held him at a 45 degree angle, her feet crossed over his chin, squeezing his neck, while her thighs did the same with his ribs, at the same time trapping his arms behind him.

After it had its desired effect, she opted for greater relative simplicity, and just held him back by his wrists while choking him with her calves, until he was seriously struggling to breathe. Easing off for just long enough to change holds, she half-sat, half-lay across him on her side, scissoring his neck in her upper thighs, and imprisoning his left arm in her lower thighs for good measure. She could afford to relax a little. She had done the hard work, and smiled down at her incarcerated victim.

Kjersti, looking on, sensed what would happen next - wouldn’t she have done it, just? Sandra’s left hand teased its way over Karsten’s torso, until it arrived first at his cock, next on his balls. Then she squeezed mercilessly.

“Why are you screaming?” she asked softly. “Don’t you like a woman gently tickling your balls?”

Then she whispered even more quietly:

“Has a woman ever pulled your shorts down, Karsten, or are you just a mother’s boy?”

Needless to say, his shorts vanished, and she grabbed his naked manhood. Margarita laughed at the total power her sister exerted over the helpless young male. She felt she could see him trembling from where she was. A bit of extra pressure here, a hard pinch there, was all it took to turn him into a wailing wreck.

Karsten lashed out with his left palm, trying to push Sandra away. He caught her uncomfortably on the chin, so she moved underneath him, and headlock/choked him in her right arm, while continuing her destructive manipulation. Then she swapped her arm for her right leg around his neck, while she attacked his genitals from above.

Seeming to work her way through the holds, Sandra next opted for a body scissor or, more specifically, a half-scissor, squeezing Karsten’s right ribs with her left thigh, without ceasing to punish his balls. He collapsed backwards, against what should have been a welcoming young woman’s body. Unfortunately for him, it was possessed by a determined, unforgiving mind.

Now she head scissored him from the side, keeping his near arm secure. But the scissor, though a potentially match-losing hold in itself, didn’t even momentarily distract him from the unbearable torment she persisted in inflicting. On the other hand, his breathing became more and more irregular, and he started to make faint, but strange, noises.

Karsten passed out. Whether it was from the agony of his balls, or the scissor, is a moot point: he had lost, and the score was now 2:2. Sandra celebrated, posing over him, one foot on his head. The dark-haired Mediterranean beauty that was her sister entered the ring, and Sandra tagged her in. Now it was Margarita’s turn again.

She waited for Karsten to stir, then showered him with half-kicks while he was getting up Next she upped the ante with one to the head, and he fell onto his back. Having stunned his senses, she turned to face the other way, seized his wrists, locked his arms over his legs, then plumped her bottom down hard on his upturned balls. His legs and arms crossed over at the elbows and knees, so that he looked like some mad sort of frame. His resourceful opponent locked all four limbs at one stroke, plus she was crushing his balls.

When Margarita judged he could take no more, she knelt over him and teased him by tapping her left knee into his mouth. He clung onto it, presumably in the hope that it could prevent it doing any real damage.

But it was a forlorn hope. Swapping knees, she now knelt on his throat, choking him, while pinning his left arm with her right foot, and grabbing his right arm. This meant that she still had one hand free – her right – so she put it over his mouth for good measure. Swapping knees again, she half-head scissored him from the other side, while she “scissored” his balls in the crook of her right knee and grabbed his left wrist.

Margarita didn’t seem to be one to keep the same hold going for long, and she worked through her moves and holds as quickly as Kjersti had against Sandra. Anyway, she now sat on his face, still making him struggle for breath, but using her sex to do it. Enjoying the sensation, she stretched out over his face, supporting herself with her hands on the canvas. Also stretching her right leg, she teased his cock with her boot.

Whether Kjersti had told him female opponents might do this, we don’t know; but he understood he had better put his tongue to work. When she reverted to kneeling so that still sat directly over his face, it was obvious that either he had enjoyed it, or the teasing with her boot – or both.

“You’ve given him a massive erection!” Sandra called out. “Looks like he’s not a mother’s boy after all!”

Kjersti couldn’t take much more of that, and fought the impulse to intervene. She looked on despairingly as Margarita was now pushing Karsten’s face into her sex, demanding more, more. She even stood up, pulling him up with her by his ears, so he now knelt on the canvas.

At last, she ended her pleasuring and lifted him up, holding his cock. She hooked his legs over the top rope in the corner where her sister was standing, so that he hung upside down, with his hands on the canvas. She now massaged his balls while the other sexy young woman fiddled and played with the tip. It was every man’s dream (apart from hanging upside down, of course).

But it wasn’t Kjersti’s dream. She entered the ring and demanded they stop. When they ignored her, she ran over to make them stop it – but was met with Sandra’s boot right at her sex. She collapsed to her knees, and both girls attacked her with knees and feet. They knocked her out with a head scissor and dragged her over to the corner where her son was hanging upside down, so that her face was directly underneath him.

They resumed massaging his cock, and it wasn’t long before he came over both his face and Kjersti’s.

“She can’t complain,” laughed Sandra, “because she did the same to Thorsten.”

This was true. The evidence is all there, in gallery 771.