TSIFOL 27 Stripped, hogtied, humiliated, fucked

TSIFOL 27 Stripped, hogtied, humiliated, fucked TSIFOL 27 Stripped, hogtied, humiliated, fucked

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Karen's game plan for the bikini hogtie wrestling match quickly falls apart. But when you're lying naked and hogtied next to your boyfriend you're sure to find something to occupy yourself.


Karen's game plan for the bikini hogtie wrestling match quickly falls apart. But when you're lying naked and hogtied next to your boyfriend you're sure to find something to occupy yourself.


Submitted: February 13, 2014

A A A | A A A


Submitted: February 13, 2014



A condensed version of the story embodied in this and the previous chapter was published in 2012 and still appears on my portfolio.


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. Greg also doubled up the stopper knot on each end of the lower tie of my bikini top so that the string wasn’t pulled through and separated from the triangle as Merc tried to pull it from under my body. While I admired his forethought, it didn’t seem to show much confidence in my likelihood of winning.

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.

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.

Even then I could feel her trying to use the full strength of her leg muscles to raise her bum off the ground and try to buck me off. The only real defence to I had to this was to move as much of my weight as far down her body as I could to apply it with more leverage against the strength of her legs while at the same time using my knees to try and pin her legs.

All of which meant one of my hands was fully engaged keeping pressure on 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 sliding up along her back 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. As I tried to pull it out, she drove her full weight down on her breasts – forcing them deeply into the sand and pinning the bikini top under them.

As a variation I tried sliding my hands underneath her breasts – in effect trying to bulldoze the top from under her; but from the angle I was approaching the matter I wasn’t strong enough to force them through the sand and under the cups of her breasts to do that. Then I just took one side of the lower tie and pulled it with all my strength. At first I felt it give some; managing to pull a long length of tie towards myself. But then it was stuck again; the elastic of the cord just stretching longer and longer without dislodging the top from under her. While struggling with this I had moved my position somewhat higher up her back. I had felt her hands groping around my lower stomach and hadn’t thought anything about it. Suddenly I felt her hands firmly grip the whole front part of my bikini bottoms – her thumbs invading over the top of it and some fingers invading around the leg hem well down into my crutch. With various of her digits in direct contact with my most intimate spots I was suddenly distracted from my previous task. Instinctively I sat upright; bringing my whole weight back down on her hands to stop any sense her fingers had free movement around that area. Her counter-reaction was to pull her hands free within the constraints that her bindings would allow; dragging my bikini bottoms with it, half pulling them down my upper thigh, half giving me a giant wedgie.

Had she done that to me three months ago I would have squealed and panicked like a stuck pig. At that time no one had ever touched me there nor had I been so exposed to others. Now while I was far from comfortable about it, in the particular circumstances it more seemed like the game of move and countermove that it was. I remembered Merc successfully doing that in one of the videos to another girl who was getting the better of her. She seemed to have devised herself a loophole of sorts in the rules of the game; using a sexually invasive hold or a sense of threatened bodily exposure to induce an auto-reaction in her opposition to throw them off their game.

By sitting on her and forcing her arm back in to the painful control hold again I got her to release her grip on my bikini bottoms; which at least gave me some freedom of movement again to address the issue of accessing her bikini top. 

All else having failed, I decided I needed to get off her and pull both ends from over her head to do it. As I moved in to position, only the end I’d been pulling was visible; the other had disappeared under her body. Merc had given me a good lesson in ignoring sensitivities about where I touched, so I stuck a hand down between her breasts and fished out the other end of it; finding as I pulled the top out that one of the triangles was no longer part of it. Since all I needed was the bottom tie string that was no concern of mine, but I wondered how she was going to get back to her car.

As soon as she knew I’d got the top she started to struggle to her feet. She mustn’t have realised I’d already undone the side ties on her bikini bottoms. As she felt them fall away as she got up she also instinctively grabbed the back of them in the hands tied behind her back; achieving nothing modesty wise except having a flap of material dangling from the small of her back, but slowing her down in the process. I moved around behind her, planted my foot just above her hands and pushed her back face down. But the first time I did that it was ineffective. Because of my timing and a poorly positioned foot, she managed to go down with her knees folded under her – making it easier for her to get back up and to resist my efforts to flatten her out. I stood back and waited until she was getting up again; this time waiting until her body formed a straight line between her knees and her head and she was just about to bring a foot up under her. This time I made sure she came down flat on her face.

As I sat down on her, she rolled over on her back so that I ended up sitting over her pubis. With her hands tied behind her back and now pinned under her, there didn’t seem to be any reason I couldn’t tie her feet together from this side, so I just turned around, moved my weight down to her knees and started to thread the bikini ties through the loops on her feet while struggling to hold her feet together closely enough to let me do the job. I managed to get the string through both loops, but foolishly instead of just tying a knot there, I thought it would be more secure if I passed the strings through the loops a second time.

All the while I could feel her squirming about. Eventually her knee lifted a little and before I could register what was happening she had a hand cupped around each of my breasts from behind and was able to pull me off balance and then throw me off and face down on the ground; deliberately ripping the triangles of my bikini top off my breasts in the process. Immediately the full length of her now naked body was lying along my back pinning me down.

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 wasn’t hard for her to fumble around and undo even behind her back. I always knew I should have watched better as Greg had shown me the sailing knots.

My arms were still free, so I struggled to bring my right arm under me and give me some leverage to try and lift my body up and throw her off. She countered by bringing her left hand across both breasts to try and hold me. With her right hand she then fought me to try and pin my right arm in against my body.

The videos had told me Merc’s classic winning hold was to get her victim in a bear hug from behind; both arms pinned against their body and her legs wrapped around theirs. Once she had them in this position she always seemed able to work around and get them tied up. I had resolved not to let myself get caught in this position and yet that was exactly what she was trying to achieve now. It was a test of strength; but in this case my leverage was better than hers and I was able to apply enough force to lift my chest up and at least force myself around face up; although I then had the strange experience of having her naked figure on top of me; her voluptuous breasts smothering my face. I wasn’t used to such intimate contact with women and while not suggesting it was a sexual turn-on, it was certainly a novel experience in itself. As a nipple brushed across my mouth I even had to resist a temptation to stick my tongue out and lick it.

She was trying to wrestle me over face down again. I struggled against her and tried to squirm out from under her. At this stage my partial knot around her feet was constraining her. Instead of her legs being able to wrap up mine and bind me, I was able to use pressure against hers to help me squirm, gradually working down her body until eventually my face was in to her stomach – the grip her hands had on me becoming less and less effective. Just as I prepared for a final heave to get out from under her, she managed to pull her legs apart – my legs being no longer positioned to hold hers together and the unknotted bikini string sliding through the loops around her legs. Now her legs were outside me, trying to bind me; wrapped around my waist. Still, her positioning was inefficient for holding me. I could still squirm and was still working out from under her body – sliding gradually out between her legs. Again I braced for a final heave, lifted some of her weight off me with my arms and arched my back, like I was doing the limbo down the length of her torso. With a quick flick my nose drew a line down the centre of her stomach and down her pubis; although I still had the presence of mind to turn my face slightly so it was my cheek and not my nose which made far more intimate contact with her crutch than I found desirable.

I was free and quickly on my feet. Before I could jump on her back she too was up and facing me. We started gradually circling each other; hands at the ready by our sides like a pair of Western gunslingers. Somewhere – maybe in a book, maybe in a movie – I’d learnt that fighters don’t watch each other’s faces – they watch their chests. It’s there the first sign of an aggressive movement will be detected.

So I found myself looking directly at her naked breasts; the rest of her torso within the edges of the field of my tunnel vision. Until I’d met Greg I would have to admit that I wasn’t good with communal nakedness; whether mine or someone else’s – be that man or woman. A change room was something used infrequently and with a minimum of eye contact with anything other than the wall I was facing. Getting a wax job done or a medical check-up was an exercise in excruciating embarrassment. Even “AG” (after Greg) when my mutual nakedness with him felt as natural as life itself, third party nakedness had been limited to the Christmas day activities and the night we’d had to put a very drunk and sick Kate to bed. Still I was getting better about it.

Now for the second time in as many weeks here I was up very close and personal with a very naked woman. One part of my brain studied her body in detached analysis. Yes, she was full bodied and curvy, but Greg had infected my way of looking at other women. Without the support of even a string bikini top her large breasts already lacked any real perkiness. Their mass rested down on her upper chest. From magazines and other pictures I’d got the impression that as most breasts sagged they performed the wonderful engineering trick of still pointing their nipples outward. It wasn’t working for Merc. Her large dark nipples and areola faced somewhat downwards; smearing themselves excessively and to my eyes unattractively across the face of the bulb of each breast.

Her stomach bowed noticeably outward with just the start of a roll of fat beginning to show running in an arch from the top of her hips at the side and down across the face of her pubis. She was fully shaved or waxed and even from this angle I could see she joined the rest of us in having anything but a ‘designer vagina’; there being a noticeable degree of asymmetry. A quick glimpse down to her feet showed the bikini top tangled around one of them but otherwise no longer binding them.

Voluptuous, and I’m sure in the eyes of many guys sexy, with the support and camouflage that even just a bikini offered, without that her human imperfections were all too evident.

Studying her I recalled the dishelieved state of my own bikini. Once I’d realised Merc had a deliberate tactic of using modesty challenges and intimate contact as a game changer, I’d tried to resolve to ignore my clothing; even to pull the strings on my bikini and lose the pieces to make her job harder. I hadn’t done that, but now I just instinctively readjusted the pieces to sit properly on me again. Almost immediately I was annoyed with myself for showing that weakness to her.

My problem was I had no plan B. Now the control hold had failed once I doubted she’d let me get another go at it. Beyond avoiding her bear hug, the only real plan I had was to try and exhaust her; to use my greater fitness to overcome her greater strength. As we continued to circle making false lunges at each other a mental picture came to mind of that scene from the movie Life Of Brian where a gladiator throws away his shield an sword and has his competitor chase him around and around the arena until the latter – burdened by his equipment – has a heart attack.

I doubted anything so obvious would be acceptable here and the game of faints and false lunges we were involved in didn’t tire her enough for my purpose. Sometimes a feint would result in each of us grabbing the hands of the other, trying to use strength to collapse the others outstretched arms and get a body hold on them. Invariable as soon as one of us felt we were on the losing side of that tussle, we’d break the hold. On three occasions – twice for her and once for me – one of us did manage the start of a body hold on the other, but a quick squirm or body drop was enough to break contact and start the circling dance again.

They say no battle plan survives the first contact with the enemy. So it was here. She fainted at me again, but just when I though she was pulling back she lunged again, capturing me in a face to face bear hug. I dropped my legs, twisted my body and pushed my arms outward with all my might sliding under her hold. But I stumbled a bit as I got to my feet again, giving her time to get around behind me and capture me in a standing bear hug.

She was trying to bend me forward towards the ground. I in turn stiffened my body and thrust my feet forward resisting her attempt to put me down on my face. She tried various tricks to overcome my resistance – using her feet to sweep mine from under me, lifting me up to take my feet off the ground and pulling me suddenly backwards to take the pressure out of my resistance to her – but each time I was able to get back into a braced position before she could get me down. The one thing I did fear was that, having lifted me off the ground, she would actually throw me down; even worse if she came with me using my body as her protective air bag. But either she didn’t think of it or thought it too likely to hurt me or her to do it.

By now she was starting to pant. For just a moment I thought my better fitness approach might even work. Then I felt her start to turn me around; each of us shuffling our feet so that instead of me facing the water I was facing up the beach where I saw Greg and her second come into my field of vision – each of them with their cameras pointed at us and running. Until that moment I’d been so focused on the match I’d even forgot about Greg being there.

I didn’t give her turning of me any great credence as a tactic until one of her thumbs hooked itself over the lower tie of my bikini top and the other over the waist hem of my pants and both suddenly jerked downward; pulling my pants partially down and dislodging the top from my breasts. Instinct for a moment took over. With my hands pinned, I intuitively bent over forward - reacting as any girl would to regain some modesty after being exposed. It only took a nano-second for the thinking part of my brain to try and cancel my reaction, but it was all Merc needed. She had anticipated the instinctive reaction and took immediate advantage of it, using her weight to continue the momentum of my fold and pushing me to the ground.

I was furious with myself. It was the very thing I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do; I may not have wanted to flaunt myself, but I just wasn’t that concerned about a bit of exposure to throw the match for it. Now she had me in the very hold I knew was her winning one – a bear hug from behind with me flat on my face and her on top.

I used all my strength to break one arm free – trying to get it under me and flip myself over again. But this time the leverage advantage was hers. I’d only got the arm 90 degrees out from my body – a very inefficient position for your arms muscles – before her full strength was being applied to pulling it back within her grasp.

Now my resistance to her pulling my arm was nothing but a forlorn hope. In short order my hands were tied and I felt the strings of my bikini top being undone. I tried to use Merc’s technique of forcing my breasts down against the sand to frustrate her getting the top, but my breasts unfortunately didn’t present the same sort of barrier that hers had. She just used her hands to bulldoze under my breasts, sweeping the top out with them (and I’m fairly sure deliberately using her fingers spaced slightly apart to tease up my nipples in the process) so my legs were soon being tied together. By now I had surrendered to my fate and had decided not to struggle as she took off my pants and used them to hog tie me.

But Merc had other ideas. Getting off me, she rolled me over so I was face up. Then she picked up my feet and dragged me around so that my head was facing toward the water and my feet up the beach, following which she sat down on my thighs. At this stage I was left wondering what was going on. This was a different script from the one I had seen on the videos from previous fights.

Leaning over me she whispered, so as to be inaudible to the seconds “you’re the first out of townie to be privileged enough to do this. I think we need to add something special for you”. Even as she was saying this, she started rimming the top of my bikini bottom, sliding he fingers just under the hem of it – much as Greg often does as foreplay. If I thought she was moving across to undo the strings, I was quickly disabused of the thought. Spreading he fingers apart, she then slid one down each side of the leg of the bikini bottom, making a point of massaging the lips of my labia as she moved them all the way down to the base of my crutch, to the point I thought she was going to finger my vagina.

My pubic area is incredible sensitive in an erogenous sort of way. Greg doesn’t need much playing around in that area to get me worked up to a fairly high state of arousal; and given my bikini fetish, if he does it as part of undressing me from one I’m all but ready to come by the time he’s stripped me. Until today he’s the only one I’d allowed to really touch me there. I was surprised that, even though I’ve not got the slightest lesbian inclinations, Merc’s touch was never the less quite arousing, even if unwelcome.

I started to squirm in fear of where this was going; the outcome of the gang fight coming quickly to mind. Greg’s view of all this had been blocked by Merc’s body, but he’d already been attuned to the fact something was unusual. Immediately I could hear his voice. “Merc what’s going on”.

Even as she replied “nothing”, she started fingering my clit through the material of my bikini. While she had a good – I might even say very effective – touch for the process, I started squirming even harder. Greg’s voice was louder and impatient. “Merc whatever you’re doing, stop it” His feet could be heard making the first steps through the sand towards us.

“I’m just taking her pants off”. With that Merc raised her bum off my hips, giving Greg a view of her hands as she untied my bikini bottom and pulled it none too gently from between my legs. The fact the back of it was caught under my bum and she pulled it from the direction of my navel, gave me a front wedgie which was both uncomfortable and slightly arousing all at once. I lifted my bum cheeks to release it and the now stretched elastic caused it to fly through my crutch and into her hand.

For the first time it occurred to me I was now naked with my crutch towards the cameras. This wasn’t the face down exposure that I had expected to be the limit of my on camera nudity and I kept my legs pinned as tightly together as I could. By now Merc had moved to my side but still had a knee gently across my stomach which was never the less enough to stop me rolling back over of my own accord. Already I suspected she had something more in mind than just rolling me back over to complete the tie.

Suddenly she started viciously tickling my flanks. I squealed and squirmed to her attack. With my legs and hands tied most of the thrashing about was confined to my hips and thighs and I admit I lost all ability to keep the legs together and protect such modesty as I had left. Instantly Greg’s voice could be heard calling for her to stop and I glimpsed him heading down the sand towards us again.

Before Greg reached us, she stopped. In all probability it had probably continued only for an instant, but I was sure it was enough to give her second some fairly detailed video.

Standing up, she slid a foot under my flank and flipped me over; I being more than happy to assist the action. Without further fuss she brought my ankles up to the general location of my bum and used the strings of the bikini bottom to tie them to my wrists, completing the hogtie.

With a patronising pat on my bum she finished our tussle with a “....nice try girl. You did better than I thought you would”.

At least I could watch with amusement as Merc attempted to collect up the parts of her bikini and get dressed. The pants were OK, but the pulled through triangle on the top gave her a few problems. She tried simply pinning the bottom part of the unthreaded triangle to her chest by tucking it under a very tightly tied lower tie. But with the size of her breasts, it tended to pop out with the slightest provocation. Still, with as much dignity as she could manage she and her second left me there with a simple “Enjoy the wait”

Greg came down and sat down beside me. I turned my head towards him and half turned my body on its side. “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, especially in light of Merc’s outrageous behaviour; 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 and alternated between that and brushing the sand off my stomach and pubis as he noticed patches of it stuck to my skin. Greg’s presence was enough to arouse me at the best of times but there was something about my vulnerable state and his touch that made it extreme. “So now I know why you double knotted the end of my bikini top string. How did you know about them pulling through?”

“You’re kidding. You saw the gang fight video. About half the girls I find have their tops pulled through. It makes it a lot harder to get home if there are people on the beach. I even brought some tape and a short bit of wire in case I had to fix yours – although I wasn’t going to let Merc know that. You know 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 what seemed like a long while, he came back out of the water, dried himself 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 pubis; 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 had been left for nearly two hours to contemplate what I could get up to with the love of my life. 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 inside me, one of them stroking hard against the front wall of vagina, 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; all too soon 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 hand and fingers crushingly captured by the orgasmic tightening of my whole pelvic and upper thigh area. “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 the front wall of my tunnel – searching out 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 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 and went for a rinsing swim. “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”

We needed to get the house to ourselves to be able to see what had been posted on-line or even just to watch the video Greg had filmed, so it was a full week before we managed to follow up on it.


Strangely, even though Greg sent her the required copy of the timed 9am shot, the video of our fight didn’t at first appear on Dailymotion. Greg had kept his camera rolling and facing toward me even as he’d been moving in to reproach Merc for her misbehaviour, so there was some fairly explicit shots of me which I thought had been the whole point of Merc’s actions. Mind you, since she’d lost her clothes early in the fight, there was no shortage of explicit shots of her too. 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.


It was only then that Greg told me what he had done. Merc’s second is an old hand at doing these videos and had taken to using a tripod. When Merc first faced me to the camera and dislodged my bikini, Greg simply moved his camera hand in front of the lens of her camera. Because the second was so engrossed in watching the fight directly, she didn’t notice the fact her screen was blocked. Later in the fight when she was fooling about with me, he’d either done the same again or walked between the second’s camera and us as he started towards us down the beach. So in all probability there was likely to be little exposure of me on the second’s video – in contrast to Merc who would be revealing everything if she published the video.


Once again I was vindicated in that sense that I was safe when Greg was looking after me. Watching the video had been arousing enough by itself for me, knowing what Greg had done to protect me made him all but irresistible. He’d watch most of the video with a dirty great boner – which half the time had my hand wrapped around it anyway, so his mood was fairly clear too. I jumped him, stripped him of what little clothing he was wearing and had my way with him until he wasn’t good for any more.


Merc’s version did come out shortly after that. It was heavily edited. By the time they’d cut out all the really explicit exposure of Merc there was little of the actual fight left and virtually nothing showing an exposure of me. All you could really tell from the video was that Merc won.


We enjoy watching our version now and again; pity we didn’t manage to film the climax too (so to speak).


Still, one part of what Merc said did keep playing through my mind. What the hell did she mean by “you’re the first out of townie to be privileged enough to do this”. It just didn’t make any sense; or at least didn’t until a week later.


It was only a week later that we discovered another loser tied up on the beach during the course of our morning run. She was a sweet faced tiny slip of a girl who I originally thought can’t have been much older than 13; although it turned out she was a recent HSC graduate of 18. Even if the other girl was her age, it would be difficult to imagine that the other girl wasn’t much bigger. I bent down to untie her, while Greg proceeded to tease her second by waving to the spot where he knew she would be hiding while filming the event. As I untied her, I asked her if the other girl was much bigger. When she said yes, I asked her why she had agreed to the fight. “Because it means I’m in”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It means I’m accepted as part of the in group; it’s sort of an initiation thing”

“Are only girls who are being accepted challenged in this way?”

“Sure; I thought you would have known that after fighting with Merc last week”

Since Merc hadn’t posted her version of the video on line at that stage, I had to ask “How do you know I fought Merc?”

“Everyone’s been talking about it. Merc’s second spilled the beans on how you nearly beat her.”

A hundred other questions crossed my brain, but between not wanting to reveal any more of my ignorance about the customs of the town’s girls and the fact I’d finished untying her, I didn’t get a chance to ask her. I made sure her bikini ties were untangled and ready to be retied before placing the top and bottom within easy reach by her head, collected up Greg and got us both to move on – leaving the girl to get dressed in private.

How could I not feel chuffed? It seems I’d been initiated into some sort of informal alpha group of the town girls and accepted as an honorary townie in the process; and I didn’t even know it.

© Copyright 2018 joanmcarthy. All rights reserved.

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