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Author Topic: Diary of an Amazon  (Read 754 times)

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Offline dworth

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Diary of an Amazon
« on: 19-Jun-19, 02:37 PM »
New Story: I was sort of picturing the narrator as a red-headed, American version of Amethyst Hammerfist ( but feel free to picture whoever you want. I guess I pictured Amethyst because she always sounds so turned on and excited by the act of wrestling a guy, and that's what I was going for here.


Probably the first thing guys see when they look at me is my long, bouncy red hair. The first thing I see  when I look at them is their neck. I picture it in between my legs. I picture that adorable mix of fear and excitement on their helpless faces, as they stare up at me. I try not to picture it, but that’s always where my mind goes.

I spend most of my time on dates trying not to think about all the things I want to do to whatever guy is sitting across from me. The guy across from me now, for example, Rich, is on the smaller side which I’m VERY into. 5’6, 130, I’m guessing. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m two inches taller and fifteen pounds heavier. That’s a good sign. If he doesn’t mind that I’m bigger, he might not mind that I’m stronger. Why does that freak out so many guys? Every time I turn out to be stronger than a guy, he either gets really mad or really embarrassed, and then never calls again.

I know there must be guys out there who are into strong ladies, or at least, guys who’d be okay with it. And obviously, the key is to ask them. But am I seriously supposed to say “hi, you’re cute, do you mind if I pin you down, and keep you locked between my legs no matter how hard you fight to get out? Or sit on your face? Or hold you hostage in my tits and squeeze every last bit of manliness out of you, and then ride you so long and hard that you forget your own name, because that's literally the ONLY way I can get off?"

That doesn’t seem like a great first date question. So I try to be patient, and take it step by step.

If you’re wondering how I got like this, so am I. It’s just always been the case. My first crush was a boy in elementary school who I would chase, pin down and kiss every day at recess. My first lay was in high school. A senior guy invited me to a house party, took me up to his parents’ room and locked the door. He went in for a kiss, and I just decided to pounce on him. I took off my panties, got him in a headscissor and refused to let him go until he ate me out. He ended up being pretty good at it with some coaching, so I decided to be nice and return the favor, but the poor dude was clearly pretty shaken up by the whole thing, and he wouldn’t look me in the eye after that. Be careful what you wish for I guess.

I’m definitely a physical being. I dance, run, lift weights, swim, kick box, basically I’ve never met a physical activity I didn’t like. I work as a personal trainer. I’ve never not been on a sports team of some kind. I’m definitely a sexual being too. I hardly ever go more than a day without sex, even if it's just with myself. I don’t like taking it slow. But I’m trying with this guy.

He’s so cute. He laughs at my jokes, really laughs. He’s a little timid but when I make a good enough joke, he drops his guard, and smiles, and it becomes my goal to make him smile like that as much as possible. He’s funny too, and smart as hell. Plays piano. He could probably hold a pretty good conversation if he wasn’t so scared of fucking this up. I wish I could tell him I’m scared of blowing it too.

Dinner’s over, and I know he wouldn’t dare ask me back to his place, so I ask instead. “I’d really like to hear you play something on your piano.”

“Definitely. Whenever,” he says.

“How about now?”

Twenty minutes later, we’re at his place. Clean and nerdy. I’m into it. He sits down and starts playing. He’s really good. This makes me want to fuck him even more. I’m honestly worried I might yank his cute little ass of that piano bench and take him right there on the floor, so I decide to redirect my physical urges into dancing. I get up and dance to his playing. This gives me a chance to show off too, and he loves it.

“You’re a gorgeous dancer,” he says. “I mean, you dance gorgeously. I mean…you’re gorgeous, and you dance gorgeously.” He’s getting tongue tied and nervous. God, I want to jump him.

“Let’s wrestle,” I say. It just slips out.

He looks like a dear in the headlights. “What” he asks.

“Uh…” I spot his Xbox “do you have any wrestling games, or fighting games we can play?” Nice save, me.

“Oh,” he laughs, “yeah, totally.”

A minute later we’re sitting next to each other on his couch, playing this fighting game. I pick this wolf-man looking dude as my fighter. He picks a hot chick, who looks dressed for a Victoria Secret shoot rather than a fight. I haven’t played any games in a long while, so he kicks my ass. His hot little lingerie model throws my wolf-man up and down and around. All her moves are really sexually suggestive, and most of them don’t look doable in real life, but she’s giving me all kinds of ideas for what to do to him. Her big finisher is a thing a scissor take down, where she flips him over with her legs, and then basically grinds his face while shaking her tits. I make a mental note to try that with him at some point.

I'm tired of playing. I want us to throw these controllers down and commence with the real thing, but I keep myself in check. He’s given me a lot of space on the couch, but I start inching closer to him as we play, until eventually we’re touching shoulders. I feel him tense up. I want to loosen him up, and I want to actually win a round of this stupid game so I start cheating, in a hopefully flirty way. I cover his eyes a couple times so he can’t see the screen. I grab his controller away, so he has to reach across me for it. Then I grab it away and put it against my chest. He goes for it, and I pull it away at the last second so he’s touching my boobs.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” he says trying to pull his hand away. But before he can, I grab it and hold it there.

He looks at me, with that dear-in-the-headlights look again. Adorable.

“Can I try something,” I ask. “I want to see if that move you keep doing on me in the game really works.”

“What move,” he says.

“The thing where she wraps her legs around his body.” I’m playing dumb, obviously, so not to freak him out.

“What thing?”

“When she does like…can I just…”

I move him forward on the couch. I get behind him. I wrap my legs around him. “Does that actually do hurt,” I ask.

He’s so tense now. I massage his shoulders a little bit.

“Um no,” he says. “I don’t really feel anything.”

I tighten up just barely.

“How about now,” I say.

“Oh wow, yeah, that’s like a hug,” he says, starting to loosen up in my grasp.

“Aw,” I say, reaching my arms around and hugging him from behind. If I was smart I would’ve stopped right there, but instead I squeezed a little tighter.

“Whoah, that’s tight!” he says, with just a little panic, and an involuntarily pull away from me. I feel his heartbeat jump. I realize if I go any further, I might scare the shit out of him, and ruin what could develop into a pretty sweet wrestle/fuck-buddy situation, so I let go.

“I’m sorry,” I say. 

“You’re really strong,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

“No. Don’t apologize for being strong. It’s awesome,” he says.

This guy might be the one. I better not screw this up. I say I have to go.

We hug, and I kiss him on the cheek.

“If you ever want to do this again, just let me know,” he says.

“Can I come back here tomorrow night,” I ask. Shit, that was too eager.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says.

I go home, get in my second workout of the day, and then lie in bed touching myself, thinking about all the things I want to do to him. I sleep with a pillow in between my legs every night. I dream about making him my new pillow. It's a good dream, and I'm determined to make it a reality.

Offline dworth

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Diary of an Amazon
« Reply #1 on: 13-Aug-19, 11:03 AM »

A day later he texts me “Hey, hope you made it home safe. Just wanted to say I enjoyed the evening, and hope you did too. Feel free to shoot me a message whenever. Or not. No pressure.”

I wait twenty minutes and then send back a gif of two video game characters fighting captioned with “u smoked me. I demand a rematch ;)

He immediately texts back “Sure thing! Name the time and place.”

We set up plans to hang out at his place again in a couple days. For a second, I think about bringing my wrestling matts but it’s definitely a bit early for that. We'll stick to video games for now, and maybe I'll just put it out there in conversation that I like wrestling, not like as a part of my sex life, but just in general. That seems like a measured step forward that won’t freak him out too much. In the meantime though, I’m horny as fuck, and I need to wrap someone up in my legs real soon or I’m gonna just start tackling random guys on the street. Thankfully, one of my favorite clients is scheduled for a session. I shower, get into my Wonder Woman leggings and a blue sports bra, set up the matts, and start stretching.

A few minutes later, Michael knocks on the door. I throw it open, beaming smile on my face, because I’m genuinely happy to see him. He smiles back. He’s got a cute, shy smile. He’s on the chubbier side, but he’s definitely lost some weight since last time we sessioned, which means he’s at least sort of following the workout/meal plan I made him. Good.

“You’re ten minutes early,” I say.

“Sorry, I’ll come back,” he says, holding his hands up apologetically and turning to leave.

I grab his arm and yank him inside playfully. “Oh no, you wanted ten extra minutes, you got it.” I kick the door shut.

He knows the drill. He goes to the matts and starts stretching.

“Have you been keeping up with the plan I made you,” I ask, getting some bottled waters and setting them on the edge of the matt.

“Yes,” he says. “The workouts and the meals.”

“Are you sure,” I ask.

“Totally,” he says.

“If you haven’t, I’ll be able to tell, and I’ll have to punish you for it.”

“Oh no, I would hate that” he smiles.

He’s on his back, with his legs up. I start extending them for him. So my face is hovering over his and I say “listen, I’m gonna be straight with you. I’m dealing with a lot of pent up stuff right now, and that’s probably gonna come out today.”

“I can’t wait,” he says.

I let go of his legs and kiss him on the forehead. “When did you get so nice,” I say.

“When you started training me,” he says.

It’s true, he used to be a real asshole. He signed up for a personal trainer at the gym where I work, and when he got me, he was upset because he didn’t think a woman could handle him, which he straight up told me before our first session. I'm still rolling my eyes at the memory of this obese, totally uncoordinated guy thinking I wasn't in good enough shape to train him.

So I kicked his ass, metaphorically (and later, literally, but we’ll get to that). I just really put him through the ringer in that first session, and dogged him every time he slowed down for even a second. He got really frustrated with me, and he was like “if it’s so easy, you do it.” So I did. I outran him in cardio and out-lifted him in strength training, which I could tell really freaked him out. I leg pressed like twice as much as him, which I think really bruised his dumb little man ego, but to his credit, he showed up for our second session. So I out-lifted him again, only this time it was on the bench press, and I think that’s what really made him feel threatened. Because girls are allowed to have strong legs, but we’re not allowed to have superior upper body strength. So when he did three reps of his max, which was something crazy-low like 120 at the time, and then I put up ten reps with that, I think his ego broke a bit. I’ll admit, I was kind of enjoying fucking with him, which is probably not a good mindset for a personal trainer,  but whatever. He didn’t work as hard after that, and I realized, if we were going to be productive, I needed to get his bullshit toxic masculinity out of the way, so I scheduled our next session for late at night.

We were the only ones at the gym. I gave him some sparring gloves and took him to the ring and said “let’s have a little fun.” I could tell he was scared. Scared to hit a girl, scared to get beaten up by one, damned no matter what he did. Fucking hilarious. We did one “warm up” round, where he was a little hesitant to throw a punch, so I tagged him hard a couple times in his gut, where there was a lot of padding, and one time in the face, just to get his head in the game, and it worked. At the start of round one, he came out of his corner like a fucking hurricane, albeit a big, slow, clumsy one. He had no training so it was the easiest thing in the word to dodge and weave around him, but I decided to let him hit me a couple times, partly to get him over the weirdness of hitting a girl, and partly to give him a false sense of confidence.

“You sure you don’t want to just call it a night” he snorted, after he landed the second or third hit.

“We’re just getting started, big guy,” I said.

Then I just let him chase me. I danced around him. Every time he started to slow down, I tagged him just hard enough to get his blood boiling again. About ten minutes of that and his whole body was pudding. He staggered around, breathing heavy. It was pretty cute.

“Why don’t you stop running away and stand your ground and actually fight,” he said through frustrated pants.

“You know what? That’s fair” I said, throwing off my gloves. “What do you say we turn this boxing match into a wrestling match?”

“Oh I would bury you,” he said, in between gulps of water.

“So bury me,” I said.

He threw off the gloves and charged me. I judo threw him on his ass then pounced on him and locked him in a triangle choke.

“Get off me you bitch” he screamed.

I switched him into a grapevine, so that I could look him in the eyes.

“So listen,” I said. “My job is not just training you into good habits. The biggest part of my job is actually un-training you out of bad habits.”

“Let me go,” he said, trying to flail out of it. Fucking pointless. He couldn’t get out of my grapevine even if he had all his energy. At this level of exhaustion, he was basically my puppet.

“What I’m trying to un-train you out of right now is this toxic masculinity bullshit you’ve had programmed into you your whole life that says girls are weak, and boys shouldn’t listen to them. And what I want you to know is it’s okay to acknowledge the ways that you’re weak, because that’s the only way you get stronger. So I need you to admit something. I need you to admit you’re weaker than me.”

“Fuck you,” he said.

“Yeah, this is probably gonna take a while. But we’re not leaving until you say it. I’ve got all night.”

And so began the night of putting him in different holds, some of them painful, some of them humiliating, all of them getting us one step closer to our first real breakthrough. What I’ve learned from breaking down hyper-masculine guys over the years is that you want to strike a balance between moves that are painful, and moves that are almost gentle and loving. They need to see me as their goddess, but as a loving goddess who’s only going to hurt them if it’s good for them.

“It’s okay,” I’d whisper, as I squeezed his head in-between my thighs. “Take as long as you need. But you will say it.”

He spent a lot of time with his head in my boobs that night. I’d seen him staring at them in our earlier sessions. I figured why not give him a close up. Besides, I have this theory, based on my experiences with boob smothering, that when you hold a guy’s head in between your tits long enough, you start to tap into his memories of being a baby, which makes him feel powerless and scared and desperate for a female authority figure to make him feel safe, and that’s pretty much exactly the mindset I need them in. Plus, this process of breaking guys down and literally squeezing all the toxic masculinity out of them is kind of like a rebirth for them, or at least that’s the way I think of it, so it all kind of lines up. All of that to say, I decided he needed a lot of boob time, so probably one out of every three holds I put him in involved my tits in his face. Pretty soon, my bra was stained with his sweat and mine, so I took it off. Then I figured more skin-on-skin contact would get him to release some oxytocin, which would move him closer to saying it, so I took his shirt off too, despite some very weak efforts to counter on his part. And I went ahead and took off his shorts and underwear, and mine, and that’s when he put up his last big defense. He pulled away from me with strength I didn’t know he had left, and almost made it out of the ring, but I grabbed his ankle and pulled him back in. It was time to get the last bit of fight out of him. I rolled him on his back, straddled him, and gave him a couple good solid gut punches. He tried to block them but his gut was too big of a target. Then I rolled him onto stomach again, and started spanking his butt as hard as I could. Every couple spanks, he’d scramble away, I’d pounce on him, force him down, and then start spanking again, and we kept going like that until I’d stomped every last bit of that second wind of his. Then, just to hammer the point home, I got under him, crouched down, and lifted all 280 pounds of him up onto my shoulders.

“Congratulations sweetie, you’re my new deadlift record.”

It felt amazing, owning him so completely like that, but we were both slippery with sweat, and I knew he might slip out and break his neck at any second, so I let him down gently. I figured after being mean for so long, it was time to be sweet again, so I got him in a gentle grapevine — not stretching out his legs, just holding them in place — and I lowered my tits over his face again and said “it’s okay. You’re safe. I would never really hurt you. But you will say it. Because it’s true, and because it’s the only way you’re getting out of here, and because deep down, I think you like it that way. Don’t you? Huh?”

And that’s when I felt him let out a breath into my chest, and with that breath went every last bit of resistance he had. He completely gave himself over to my will. I unwound my legs from his. I rolled off of him, onto my back. I put one hand on my boobs and said “come here.”

He rolled over, and laid his head down on my chest, and I held him there. He didn’t have to say it. It was so obvious. The fact that I was stronger than him was the only thing he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt to be true. There is nothing in the world that gets me hotter than a guy completely submitting to me like that, and I wanted to fuck him, but at that point, I knew he didn’t have it left in him. Besides, I needed to give him a reason to show up for the next session. After a good long while of cuddling naked in the ring, I helped him to the showers, and washed the both of us clean. That’s when I made him the offer to join my special training program.

“We’d do our sessions at my house instead of the gym,” I explained. “Instead of the regular fitness regime, our sessions would be a lot more intimate, a lot more exhaustive, and a lot more fun” I explained. “We’d do a lot of wrestling, and probably some other stuff,” I said, placing a hand on his crotch.

And yeah, I get that this might technically make me a whore, but I don’t feel that way. I love my job. “It costs five times as much as my regular personal training program, but you get in much better shape and you have a lot more fun.”

He didn’t have to think about it. He said yes that night, and became the fifth client in my special training program. I train three guys and two ladies now. Best idea I ever had. Michael’s been in the program for two months. He’s lost fifty pounds so far, and as we start wrestling today, I can definitely tell his stamina has picked up. I let him spar with me for thirty minutes before I’m so horny I can’t take it anymore. I  throw off my gloves and take him to the ground, and get him in a body-scissor. He’s lost enough weight now that I can finally get a firm hold on him this way. He struggles for a minute, but there’s no way he’s getting out of this and he knows it. He taps. I wonder if I can get him in a hear hug. I try it, and it’s no problem. I lift him off his feet. He tries to get out, and I make it extra embarassing for him by carrying him around the apartment. I drop him on my bed, pin him down, and start to take off my leggings. He takes off his pants. I ride him hard. I catch myself grunting, growling — my inner amazon’s really coming out strong today. He comes multiple times. I have the urge to come but I suppress it, just to build this whole thing out. The timer rings on our session. I don’t give a shit. I keep riding him.

“Hey this is awesome,” he says through heavy breaths, “but I don’t know if you heard the timer go off. I just don’t want to take advantage of the situation” he says. I cover his mouth, and keep riding. We’re off the clock. This is no longer a training session. It’s a booty call.

He’s getting pretty exhausted. He offers to eat me out, probably because he thinks that’ll be less work. As a trainer, I shouldn’t let him get away with this, but it sounds pretty good. I get on my back and spread my legs. He starts working his tongue and it’s really lovely. I almost feel bad about closing my legs on his head and squeezing a couple times, but I just love it so much. I keep his head there until he makes me come twice. I could keep going, but I know he’s pretty spent, so I close out the session the way I always do; we get in the shower and wash each other. He usually enjoys washing my boobs and ass quite a bit, but today, his arms are so tired he can barely do it. I guess I went a bit too hard on him.

“Well that was intense, even for you,” he says as he dries off and puts his clothes back on.

“Sorry, I warned you,” I say.

“Still the best part of my life,” he says. He’s ready to go, when I get another text from my date last night. “Hope you’re training hard for that rematch, because I will not be pulling punches” the text says. And for some reason, that gets me horny as hell, all over again, and I grab poor Michael, and pull him back onto the bed and start taking off his shirt.

“Listen, I would love to but I can’t,” he says. “Like I physically can’t.”

Poor guy. I totally drained him.

“I’ll make it work,” I say.

I pin him down and make out with him. He says he’s too tired to eat me out again, but I have really sensitive nipples, so I tell him he can still get me halfway there if he just licks them and sucks on them. He’s happy to oblige. With one hand I holds his head against my chest and he sucks my tits. With the other hand, I get out my vibrator and let that do the work of getting me off, and after twenty minutes of that, I've finally suppressed my inner beast enough to trust myself on a date.

Offline baller2242

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Diary of an Amazon
« Reply #2 on: 18-Aug-19, 11:28 PM »
Loving this story, hope it continues soon!!!

Offline ivyhill

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Diary of an Amazon
« Reply #3 on: 19-Aug-19, 07:20 AM »
Loving this story, hope it continues soon!!!

5 year member, not a single share or karma given. Is there anything else we can do for you?