From the Top Shelf - The Wrestling Ladies, part 5

This final instalment of Rollin's "The Wrestling Ladies" reminds me of a similar oscene in Anne Rice's Exit to Eden.

It was Jen who led Bruce to the house. “Let’s go Bruce,” she said. “We’ll get you set up to be our houseboy for the day.” He’d somehow managed to pull his underwear back up over his swollen bottom and now he trotted after her, wondering what new humiliation was in store.

The new humiliation was the outfit. It was a sheer frilly apron tied with a bow at the back, a pair of nylon panties – and nothing else.

“Now what you do is do what anyone tells you. If they want a drink, you go get them a drink. If they want a foot massage, you do that. If they need suntan lotion rubbed on, you do that. Follow Gina’s lead. At the end of the day you’ll be graded and if you’ve done a good job there will be a reward. If not, well, whoever was not pleased may add a few spanks to that glowing behind of yours.”

Bruce froze. More spanking? After that? He clenched his cheeks and a moment of terror gripped him. I need to get out of here, he thought in a panic.

“But the reward is quite nice,” said Jen in a whisper. She lowered her hand and brushed it against his penis, gently rubbing it up and down. Then she knelt and kissed the tip through the nylon panties. “I know several of the girls would just love to have a go at you,” she purred. “I’ll bet you could go a long time.”

So once again Bruce’s libido trumped his common sense. When he emerged from the house in the humiliating apron, his erection bulged at the front of the panties. Jen had added a collar that clamped around his neck with a little chain dangling from it. He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he made his way back to the pool area. There were both apprising looks and chuckles as he was introduced around.

“Now, you know Trina, I think,” said Jen, indicating a buxom blonde sunning in a lawn chair. Bruce nodded. “And I think you know Tess,” she said, referring to a stunning redhead who was busy spreading suntan lotion on her arms.

“Why, yes,” she said. “I do believe this boy saw me lose the paddle challenge the other night.” She looked at Bruce. “Wasn’t that you, boy?”

“I, um, yes. I did see that,” said Bruce. “You looked very sexy, Tess.”

She sat straight up and put her hands on her hips. “Well, of all the nerve! That’s MISS Tess to you. The houseboys address us as ‘Miss’ and you say ‘yes, ma’am’, understand?”

Bruce was taken aback at the sudden shift in attitude. He licked his lips nervously and said, “Er…yes, ma’am.”

She frowned. “That’s better. The next time I hear such rudeness you’ll be across my knee for a sharp lesson in manners.” She stood up. It was hard for Bruce not to stare at her lush figure, barely contained in a little white bikini. “Lay this recliner out flat, then you can rub suntan lotion on my back – and you better not miss a spot.”

Thus, Bruce began his day as houseboy to Lara’s stable of gorgeous female wrestlers. Along with Gina, also in servitude for the day, he waited on the ladies and the few male guests. Bettina, a voluptuous brunette with her dark hair in bangs demanded a foot rub. Bruce had never done that before but he did his best, constantly having to respond to instructions from Bettina. “Not that hard! No there, that’s it. Now do it that way.” She kept firing commands at him. Debbie, a short stocky girl with a muscular build wanted a shoulder and back massage. He tried to accommodate, but he didn’t know what he was doing. Everyone wanted drinks and food. Bruce found himself hustling back to the house to fetch them, and trying to remember who had ordered what. As a result he got some orders wrong and had to go back.

There were also distractions, and Bruce found that he was not the only male with his ass on the line so-to-speak. It seemed some of the ladies were fond of challenges, and it was apparently a breach of etiquette to refuse. A slender guy named Paul was made to arm wrestle Bettina. If he won, Bettina’s was his for the next hour, but if he lost it was ten swats on the bare with a paddle someone had thoughtfully produced from inside the house. It looked like a standard frat paddle, long and solid. Paul put everything he had into it, his muscles straining, beads of sweat popping out on his face, but he was no match for Bettina. He had to drop his trunks, grab his ankles and hold still for ten searing whacks with the frat paddle. Bettina lined up behind him and let him have it while everyone else crowded around and loudly counted off the swats one by one.

The other two men were led off into the house by one or other of the ladies, only to return an hour or so later, the man rubbing his backside and the respective lady looking smug and satisfied, like the cat who had caught the canary.

The girls were not immune either. Debbie challenged Tess to an arm wrestle. Bruce overheard commentary to the effect that there had been an ongoing quarrel between the two. The loser got a belt whipping. Tess managed to win this one and Bruce was treated to the sight of Debbie, sprawled over Tess’s knees as she sat on the pool diving board, bikini bottoms off, while Tess whipped her bouncing bottom with a folded belt for several minutes. The belt popped and snapped, leaving red welts in its wake. Debbie wriggled her bottom and yelped lustily with each smart lick. When it was over Tess dumped her into the pool. “That should cool you off,” she said. “And stop borrowing my things.”

*****


As the day began to fade, Lara announced it was time for supper. Caterers had arrived and Bruce was subjected to fresh humiliation as he had to return to the house time and time again to fetch drinks and now, canapés, all the while clad in the embarrassing frilly apron and nothing else except sheer nylon panties. He caught the smirks and slow shaking of heads from the caterers as they looked him over. He blushed head to toe when he heard someone say, “Looks like somebody has been a bad boy.”

After dinner had been served, it was growing dark but tiki torches at poolside came on, bathing the area in a warm light. Lara gathered everyone together.


“Time to evaluate our new houseboy. What did everyone think? Thumbs up or thumbs down?”

Bruce listened anxiously as the ladies chimed in. It was both pro and con.

“He got my drink wrong.”
“He does a pretty good foot rub.”
“He has no clue how to give a proper massage.”

Jeez, what now? wondered Bruce.

“But he tried hard to do his best, right girls?”

All agreed that he had done that.

“Well, this is what I think. I’ll give him to two of you. Take him inside and do what you will. See if he has the right stuff. Just no permanent marks, ok?” said Lara. “Who wants him?”

“I do,” said Jen.

“Me too,” said Debbie.

It all happened so fast. Bruce was trying to process it. He was being given to Jen and Debbie, but for what?

“Come on, Honeybuns. You’re coming with us,” said Debbie.

Before he could voice a protest, Jen came up and grabbed one arm, Debbie the other. He was marched off toward the house, caught in the grip of the two strong lady wrestlers.
They led him in through the back patio and went down a hallway. At the end of the hallway was a door. They opened it and went downstairs. At the bottom Debbie flipped on a light and Bruce almost fainted.

He’d seen pictures of places like this in smutty magazines, but he’d never imagined they were real. Everything was painted black and red. There were mirrors everywhere. A huge bed dominated the room. There were also curious trestles with buckling straps, upright posts with manacles at the top, and a bar with cuffs hanging from the ceiling. An X-shaped cross was bolted to the wall. A padded stool with handcuffs and leg straps stood in a corner.

“What is this place? What are you going to do?” Bruce could only squeak feebly.

“This is our playroom,” said Jen.

“And sometimes our punishment room,” added Debbie with a wicked smile. “So let’s play.”

Bruce found himself stripped and shackled to a bar that dropped from the ceiling on a chain. Jen and Debbie had been wearing brief bikinis, but they now stripped them off, revealing their bodies in all their glorious nakedness. Jen was taller, more lithe, Debbie, shorter and more voluptuous. Both were gorgeous, and despite the dry taste of fear in his mouth, Bruce found himself becoming erect.

“Well, well,” said Debbie, “what have we here?”

“Ummm,” said Jen, sidling up to Bruce. “It’s nice and thick.” She fondled the swelling cock, sliding her hand over it, stroking him gently. The jolt of pleasure was so intense, Bruce felt his knees buckle. “Be careful with that thing, we want to save it,” said Debbie.

“You’re right,” said Jen. She let go and strode over to the wall, leaving Bruce’s erection bobbing up and down slowly. He tried to catch his breath.

Bruce watched anxiously as she fingered various implements hanging from the wall. There were whips, paddles, straps and canes, all of various sizes and lengths. He clenched his buttocks in anticipation of what she was doing. The sting in his behind had largely subsided but he still felt tender. To his dismay Jen selected a whip with a number of short leather thongs.

She walked toward him flicking the whip against her leg. “We’re going to teach you about pleasure and pain, Bruce. Did you know the two complement each other?” Bruce shook his head. “No? Well then, you have a lot to learn.”

“This is a deerskin flogger, Bruce,” said Jen, swooshing the whip. “Stick your ass out.”

“What?” said Bruce.

“I said stick your ass out. I’m going to whip you.”

“Please,” said Bruce. “I’m sore already.”

“I don’t want to have to tell you twice, Bruce. Now stick it out like a good boy.”

Bruce saw no alternative. He didn’t want to make Jen angry and he really had no choice but to obey. He bent slightly at the waist, thrusting his bottom out. The tails of the whip stung him right across the crease of his bottom and he let out a howl. Four more came in rapid succession causing Bruce to dance from foot to foot.

“Ow! Ow!” he yelped. On his tender behind, still glowing from Lara’s spanking, the whip was a real stinger. Fearing the worst, Bruce turned to look over his shoulder, but Jen had come up behind him and was mashing her breasts against his back. She snaked her arm around his mid section and took his penis in her hand.

“Now it’s all better, isn’t it, Bruce?”

Debbie came over and dropped to her knees in front of Bruce. Jen relinquished her hold and Debbie took Bruce into her mouth, sucking noisily, running her lips back and forth along the length of his erect member. Bruce groaned. Jen ran her hands all over his chest and kissed his neck and Debbie continued, now running her tongue around the head of Bruce’s cock. But once Bruce had been teased nearly to the point of climax, Debbie stopped and Jen stepped back.

“This time, ten, Bruce. Bend over.”

Bruce gasped. Ten? And this time he saw her select some sort of long single tail whip. She stood several yards back and flicked it, testing the length. Then she drew back and swept her arm forward. The whip curled in a long lazy loop.

Crack! It felt like liquid fire.
Whoosh…crack! Another searing stripe.

“Ahh…ahhh…ah!” He yelped.

Each lash was a stripe of pure heat across his bottom. She laddered them expertly, covering his butt from the juncture with his thighs to the crowns of his cheeks. Bruce cried out lustily and danced on his toes. Then the pair repeated their previous ministrations, once again bring Bruce nearly to the point of climax. Then they let him down. Jen unhooked the cuffs and allowed Bruce to rub his flaming behind.

“Enough of that, Bruce,” said Jen, grabbing his erect penis. She led him by the handy appendage over to the big four poster bed. Debbie was already there, on her back, legs spread. Bruce did not need an invitation. He climbed up onto the bed where Debbie grabbed his erection and guided him down. He sank into her wet vagina and she pulled his hips until he was in her up to the hilt. He began to thrust and pull back, the rhythm managed by Debbie pulling on his hips.

“Not so fast, Bruce. Go slow.” He felt a sudden sting across his ass and looked back. It was Jen with a riding crop that had a larger leather flap at its end.

Bruce would have never believed he could go that long, but the combination of the stimulation and the damping power of the whip kept him on the boil for an eternity. When he finally came it was as if a dam had burst and he was in danger of flying apart.

Then they renewed him again, this time with Jen as the sexual partner and Debbie regulating his orgasm most effectively with the riding crop. In the evening’s finale he took Debbie from the rear. He pumped away, urged on by Jen with the riding crop. Then mercifully she stopped and put the crop away....

*****


Monday morning there was the expected ribbing and kidding. There was even a pillow waiting for him on his desk chair. The hooting lasted until he told them how he’d been invited to a very special pool party the following day at which all the gorgeous wrestling girls were there swimming in the nude. They all wanted to know how they could get in on that.

“You have to get up there and wrestle like I did. Then they might just invite you.”

Skepticism was rampant and few believed Bruce’s story, but Bruce didn’t care. He’d been invited to come over next Sunday and this time somebody else would be the houseboy.