The bikini hogtie wrestling challenge with an erotic ending

The bikini hogtie wrestling challenge with an erotic ending The bikini hogtie wrestling challenge with an erotic ending

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Another chapter from Karen and Greg; two erstwhile innocents discovering love and sex on their long University summer vacation. Here Karen is setup by the town girls for a hogtie wrestling challenge. It has an erotic outcome


Another chapter from Karen and Greg; two erstwhile innocents discovering love and sex on their long University summer vacation. Here Karen is setup by the town girls for a hogtie wrestling challenge. It has an erotic outcome


Submitted: July 04, 2012

A A A | A A A


Submitted: July 04, 2012



There is one other incident that summer that’s worth including in this story.

I’d been down the beach one day late in the summer while Greg was at work. While walking up to my usual spot, I’d been greeted by a guy called Nick. He was someone Greg had introduced me to as a person who was in his year at school. He was not particularly a friend of Greg’s, but in a small town you tended not to ignore people you know and at least give them a bit of your time.

I could see why he and Greg wouldn’t be close friends, and he was certainly not my style of guy. He was sort of your alpha male from the more bogan end of town. I would have guessed there would have been a certain type of girl who would fall all over him; and indeed from what I saw, there were no shortage of those. However, he did have a girlfriend called Merc who was quite protective of her turf. I hate to categorise people, but you’d probably also describe her as an alpha bogan female; so she was a good match for him. She had a fairly big bodied voluptuous figure, which included big breasts and that filled sort out beautiful face; although as Greg had at one time rather bitcherly said, “she might be beautiful now, but it’s not hard to imagine what another 10 years and two children is going to do to her”.

Anyway, Nick engaged me in conversation for about 5 minutes, before I made my excuses and moved on. The next day I was back down the beach with Greg when Merc stormed up to me and planted her face in front of mine.

“I heard you were cracking on to my boyfriend yesterday!”

“No Merc, he said hello and I said hello back , that was about all there was to it; as you can see, I’ve got a boyfriend of my own”.

“Don’t give me that crap, we don’t stand for you city girls thinking you can come and knock off our guys whenever you want. I challenge you to a bikini hogtie”

Greg butted in “No Merc, she doesn’t want to do that. She’s not from this town and doesn’t even know what that is”

“What’s a bikini hogtie?” I asked.

Greg looked at me. “It’s a form of wrestling competition that the more bogan elements of the local girls (at this point he gave Merc a stare) use to settle what you might call ‘honour fights’. Two girls wrestle on the beach at dawn dressed only in string tie bikinis and with short bits of rope attached to their wrists. You have to tie the wrists of your opponents together with the bits of rope, then you strip off their bikini top to tie their feet together and complete the hog tie by tying the wrists to the feet with their pants. Then you leave them naked and tied like that on the beach to be discovered by a passer-by or until 9am, whichever comes first.”

“Does anyone get hurt?”

“Not that I’m aware of. There’s no punching, hitting, scratching, hair pulling, kicking or any of that sort of thing. Nor can you just thrash about. The ideas not to cause any hurt, just use strength and skill to leave your opponent in an embarrassing position – only made worse because the opponent can leave a video of the match on YouTube”.

He added for good measure “I’m no great fan of the activity – especially since it’s often me who finds the girls in the course of my morning walks. You’re not from the town, Merc has deliberately beat up an incident to create a challenge and I’m certainly not going to think any less of you for just walking away from the whole silliness”

I couldn’t help asking “How many naked girls have you untied”

“About half a dozen”

“Where do the fights take place?”

“Up the quite end of the beach, not far from the log bridge”

“Is Merc a fair fighter?”

“As far as I know she’s fair, but she’s also had more fights than anyone else and rarely loses. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if the locals have put her up to it”

I could see Merc was beginning to smirk as she realised the point of my questioning. “Does anyone get in to trouble for being left naked?”

“No, it’s a quiet part of the beach and if I don’t discover them, generally the seconds get to untie them at 9. Even if you do get discovered, you have to say you lost a bet and that’s generally the end of the matter. I suspect the local police have an idea of what happens, so aren’t likely to follow-up anyway. Why are you so curious?”

I ignored his question. “Why can’t the seconds untie you earlier?”

“It’s part of the honour thing. Plus they have to either take a video of you being untied by a stranger or a time stamped photo of you and the morning sun together to show you weren’t untied early. The second waits in the background to make sure you don’t get in to any other trouble. You are allowed to break free of your bonds, but that generally means trashing your bikini, so then you’re left walking home naked, since the second can’t provide any other clothing; and that also has to be evidence by a video from the second”

I could see that the locals put their smart phone cameras to some interesting uses. My brothers and I had spent most of our childhoods wrestling; we still often did. I was used to wrestling bigger people and just sometimes I could get the better of even one of them, so there was something in me really tempted to go ahead with this. Mind you Merc was definitely a bigger person. She was probably medium height 70 kgs to my lanky 50 and she looked as though she was sporty enough that her weight would give her a clear strength advantage over me. There was one very important question had entered my head, but I deferred it momentarily, “Is your name included anywhere on the YouTube video?”

“No, they worked out that’s a really bad idea least it affect your future, so again it one of the ‘rules’. In fact they don’t even put the name of the town there. Anyway, they’re fairly grainy jerky videos, so its hard to see who it really is; although the locals all know. Why are you so curious?”

Merc was now grinning like a Cheshire cat. Now for the important question “Can you be my second?”

“Yes, but you’re not really thinking of accepting are you? Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t really care about the honour thing and I well recognise it is just a beat-up from Merc anyway. But you know I’m competitive and it actually sounds a bit like fun; plus I think I’ve got a chance of wiping the grin from her face, and even if I don’t, so what. Would you think less of me if I did accept?”

I could see Greg was having trouble answering the last question; torn between giving me a reason not to compete to protect me and denying me what he could see I was starting to contemplate. Merc’s smile now went from ear to ear. “As long as it’s got nothing to do with honour and you’re treating it like a sport, no. But that doesn’t mean I’m encouraging you”

After some of the things we’d got up to over the holidays, Greg was going to have trouble objecting to it as a sport, wasn’t he? I turned to Merc. “Alright, you’re on. Tomorrow at 6.30”

I knew that I hadn’t been entirely frank with Greg in my reasons for accepting the challenge. Certainly as a pure sporting challenge it sounded interesting; but it was more than that. In a way I was deliberately going outside my comfort zone. I was the daughter of an accountant myself studying accounting – how more boring can you get than that. I wasn’t exactly the sort of child who’d presented my parents with a difficult teenage phase. This was about as radical as I’d ever been. Plus I wanted to show the girls in Greg’s home town that I wasn’t above them. I know Greg didn’t give a dam on that point, but somehow I did. And in the end I knew I was also denying Merc the chance to scream at me that I was just a stuck up city kid – which I suspected was what she thought the final outcome of her initial confrontation would be; even if in the process I was giving her a chance to whop me in the challenge.

That night at Greg’s place I looked at the videos. They were all there under the heading “Challenge Hogties”. Merc certainly featured in them and I spent some time studying her approach. I was fortified that the more recent videos didn’t really show any nakedness, since the loser was generally lying on their face by the time she was being undressed and tied up. I also noticed how often it was that Greg appeared as the rescuer of these naked women; indeed he was the only stranger in this latter group of videos. If he didn’t come along, there was just a timed 9 am screen shot. Perhaps it was a girl’s eye that noticed these things, but it seemed to me that for the prettier girls he undid all the ropes, starting with their bikini strings, whereas for the ‘less attractive’ ones he just untied their hands and let them sort out the bikini mess around their legs. While to give him his due he was careful where he put his hands while untying them, I couldn’t help but be a little bit jealous. “Is that why you take so many morning walks?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “No, I was walking that way long before the fights were located there”

As we worked back through the older videos I could see what Greg meant about the change of venues. It was once down the more public end of the beach and there were many where the loser was discovered by a stranger. But there were also a few where a stranger wandered in to the centre of the wrestle match itself – and mistaking it for a full on catfight – and tried to break it up; which is probably why they changed the location.

The next morning I dressed in an older bikini and meet Greg at the beach entrance. The wrist ropes were attached with an electrical cable tie. It had to be put on tight enough to not slip off your wrist, but not so tight as to cut off the blood supply. Plus the cable tie end had to be taped down to stop it poking someone in the eye or being pulled up tight in the course of the wrestling. Cable ties were also attached loosely to the ankle. The string of the bikini top would be tied through these so that you could be tied up securely without the elastic cutting off blood supply to your feet.

We then approached Merc and her second. The seconds’ jobs were to check the wrist ropes were properly attached and otherwise to regulation and the make sure each knot in the bikini was a simple bow that would release to a pull of the tie string. Then they both stood back and videoed the event; the winner posting it. I had noticed on the older videos both competitors had gone for the bikini ties fairly early, to try and render their opponent naked. A problem with this was that you then couldn’t find the bikini parts to tie them up when you needed them. So with more recent fights, the tendency was to tie their hands together, then strip the bikini; although I’m sure the guys probably liked the old approach since that often left two naked women wrestling each other.

We faced each other waiting for the starting signal. I already had my game plan, based on what I learnt against my brothers. People starting to wrestle each other generally come toward their opponent with outstretched arms, looking to get a favourable hold. As Merc did that, I dodged to one side, grabbed one of her wrists and spun myself around to bring her wrist up behind her back in a control hold. It caught her completely off guard. I used the hold to bend her over and force her to her knees. As she put her other hand down to balance herself, I grabbed the end of the rope on that wrist too, bringing it up behind her back also and forcing her down on to her face with me on top. All that was keeping her under control was the control hold I had on her wrist. I couldn’t let any pressure off that until I had her wrists tied because I was fairly sure she was stronger than me and if it was just a case of trying to sit on her and hold her hands together while I tied them, she’d probably get away. That meant one hand was always occupied with that control hold. Which I have to tell you makes it very hard to tie a knot. Eventually I managed to tie a knot of sorts. It was somewhat toward the ends of the rope, which meant her hands were not terribly close together and there wasn’t a lot of rope left to double up the knot. Still I thought it would hold. To save time, I undid the side ties on her bikini bottoms as I sat there, before moving up to untie her bikini top to use as the foot tie. Untying the knots was easy; it was much harder to slip it out from under her body to use it. It was caught under her breasts, so I had to get off her and pull both ends from over her head to do it. As I did that, she started to struggle to her feet; her bikini bottoms falling off as she did. So I had to trip her up and plant her back on her face before sitting on the back of her calves to try and bring her feet together to tie them. While you’re not allowed to thrash about, there’s no rule you have to co-operate either, so it was quite difficult to bring her feet together to tie them up, since her full strength was devoted to separating them.

I had just got the knot started when I felt her heave up and throw me off. She had got her hands free. Evidently her hands were far enough apart that her fingers were able to reach the knot and my rather inadequate knot was a slip knot anyway. I always knew I should have done a sailing course. As I came off I went down on my back on the sand and her now naked figure was instantly on top of me. She was trying to wrestle me over face down so she could tie me up and her greater strength was telling. Initially my partial knot around her feet was constraining her, so once or twice I managed to slip her grasp and even pin her back down again, but it was only a temporary reprieve. The knot slipped and her feet were free. She wasn’t going to fall for the wrist turn again and in any case with his sort of close in ground action it wasn’t possible.

I soon found myself on my face, she on my back. I tried to resist her pulling my arms in but that too was a forlorn hope. In short order my arms were tied and she had my bikini top off and was tying my feet together; my breasts unfortunately not presenting the same sort of barrier that hers had. Then she took off my pants and used the strings on that to bring my ankles up to the general location of my bum and tie them to my wrists, completing the hogtie.

“Nice try girl. You did better than I thought you would”. With that Merc collected up the parts of her bikini, put them on and she and her second left me there with a simple “Enjoy the wait”

Greg came down and sat down beside me. “I thought you had her there, you should have won, it was just a bit of bad luck. You know, this isn’t an honour thing for you; you don’t really need to wait. Would you like to be untied?”

“No I want to play by the rules” He had a kindly hand on my naked bum. Greg’s presence was enough to arouse me at the best of times but there was something about my vulnerable state that made it extreme.

“Well I’m not really supposed to sit next to you; more keep an eye on you from a distance. Do you want to ignore about that rule.”

That was a harder question, not because I was scared of being left alone, but because I really wanted him close to me. “I suppose we’d better do it properly, why don’t you go for your morning swim while you’re waiting.” At least that way I get to see him stripped down.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”, although I wasn’t.

With that he stripped down to his speedos, put his shorts and T Shirt further up the beach and went in to the water. I turned my head so I could watch him. I noticed that even while swimming he rarely took his eyes off me. He stopped frequently to look up and down the beach to make sure there was nothing that might threaten my safety.

After a while, he came back out of the water and sat down next to me; his bum being next to my head. “There’s no-one in sight, so I don’t suppose anything is compromised if I sit here for a while. If I see someone coming, I’ll disappear, but at this time of the morning, that’d be usual.

I rolled over on my side facing him and as I did so, he gently stroked up the side of my flank, ending in him circling my nipple with his cool fingers, before cupping my breast in his hand and then stroking the side of my face. I could see I wasn’t alone in being aroused by this unusual situation; his swimwear was heavily tented.

I squirmed as close to him as I could. Realising my intention, he ran his hand back down along my flank and across the base of my pubic bone; sliding lightly over the skin just above my clit. Then extending a finger he slid it down between my legs, sliding the length of my already wet slot and revealing to him just how open I had become. I couldn’t resist a moan of delight when his finger first made contact with my swollen clit. “Goodness, you are excited, aren’t you?”

That was an understatement. Here I was naked on a public beach, hogtied and determined to have the love of my life penetrate me. Even though we could see up and down the beach forever, the risk of discovery simply heightened the excitement.

“You can hardly talk” By now that giant tree trunk was trying to tear apart the front of his swimmers again.

Greg lay down along-side me, bringing his face up against a nipple while he stretched out his hand; two fingers exploring the inside of my now cavernous flowing tunnel, one of them rubbing hard against my G Spot while his thumb massaged my throbbing clit. Trussed as I was I was only able to vent my growing arousal with increasingly heavy breathing and a continuous stream of moans of delight.

Leaving the stimulation of a nipple to his other hand, Greg worked himself down so he could bring his lips up between my legs. With the fingers of the first hand still deep inside me, he started flickering my clit with his tongue. It was more than my body could stand; seconds later that first sense of impending climax started in the base of my arse before exploding up though my pussy and then throughout my whole body, bursting out in a long singular cry which increased in pitch as the orgasm redoubled within me.

Greg had a hard time staying in contact with me as I initially threw my hips forward at him and then rolled over on my back; my trussing forcing me to thrust my hips in the air with my feet under my bum as I did so. Mind you, he didn’t have much choice but to follow my movements; his fingers were crushingly and immovably captured by the orgasmic contraction of my cunt. “In me, in me, in me” was all I could get out as I expressed a desperate desire to have Greg’s shaft inside me. Just to ride my climax and stay in contact, Greg had already had to rise up and bend over me. As the peak of the orgasm passed and I was able to unclamp my knees and spread them again, Greg didn’t need a second invitation. Dropping the front of his swimmers he knelt between my legs just below my trussed feet. He leaned in to position himself and gain some initial penetration and then straightened his legs to rise up over my body, burying his shaft to the balls in the process.

That left him with his legs inside my knees, his palms on the ground somewhere near my shoulders his bum in the air. So we were both in a somewhat strange position, but he at least had some capacity for movement, which he proceeded to vigorously use. The angles of our bodies was perfect to get both his shaft working hard against my G Spot while letting his groin hit my clit on the completion of each inward stoke. I was about to roll straight in to my second climax when I emitted a different sort of cry. The back of my hamstring started to cramp from my knees being wide apart while my feet were trussed under me. Greg deftly repositioned his feet outside mine so I could bring my knees together; barely missing a stroke in the process.

While that lost the G Spot stimulation, it didn’t matter. The second climax hit me like an explosion between my legs. My knees and upper legs clamped tight; seeming willing all the pleasure of the climax to be captured in my groin as I again vocalised my pleasure loudly enough to risk attracting attention from a mile away. Meanwhile my cunt squeezed so tightly down on Greg’s cock it was rendered immobile wringing his own climax out of him in the process and flooding me with his warm cum.

As our climaxes passed and the strength and immunity to pain that heavy arousal brings with it ebbed from us, we both became aware of how seriously uncomfortable our positions were. Yet Greg was still hard; still filling my body and joining us as one. I was reluctant to let that go. Somehow Greg managed to get one leg back across me so we could roll back on to our sides. And there we lay for something like five minutes; Greg still inside, his arm protectively over me, our lips together - just the slightest rocking back and forward being enough to sustain enough of an erection to keep us joined.

Eventually he softened and withdrew, his cum rolling across my thigh as he did so. Reluctantly I told him “we’d better finish this properly; you’d better go and make yourself invisible until 9 comes. It can’t be long now” Actually if I had my druthers, we would have done it again, but that was being totally kinky.

It was only about 10 minutes later Greg came down and said “time’s up”. Lie back face down so we don’t expose anything. Taking his mobile in his hands, he backed up the beach until he could frame both me and the sun in the one shot and took the photo. Then he untied me and waited until I put my bikini on. “We probably want to cut those wrist and ankle ties off before you go home or you might attract unwanted questions for your parents”

“That’s stating the obvious”

Strangely, the video of our fight never appeared on YouTube. Greg reckons the reason for that is obvious from the video he took on his phone. Merc spends most of the fight exposed completely naked either full frontal or legs apart arse toward camera like you would imagine of some bad porn movie, whereas you don’t really see anything incriminating of me. Still, we enjoy watching our version now and again; pity we didn’t manage to film the climax too (so to speak).

© Copyright 2019 joanmcarthy. All rights reserved.

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