First Summer: Erotic Bikini Hogtie

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This is a chapter in a series normally filed in Erotic Couplings.

This story is a little different.

Still, if you just want a quick read about sex, rather than how she ends up hogtied, it starts towards the end of page 2.

The story is set in Australia and uses the Australian idiom. And because it has been a contentious issues, Australians more commonly use ‘crutch’ than ‘crotch’, a usage supported by the Macquarie Dictionary.



Towards the end of January I was down the beach one day while Greg was at work. While walking up to my usual spot, I’d was 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 wrong end of town. Personally I found him a bit creepy, but I would have guessed there would have been a certain type of girl who would fall all over him. Indeed from what I saw, there was 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. She was no Kate. If Kate might best described as Barbie with a butt, Merc was more a Kardishian in a higher BMI phase. She was just lucky that for the time being the fat tended to settle where it looked best. 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 wrestling match.”

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 wrestling match?” 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 9 am, 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 runs. 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?”

“Over the years more than two 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 sex hikayeleri 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.”

It seemed the locals put digital camera technology 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 75 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 jerky videos, so it’s 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 damn 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”; the more recent ones on Dailymotion – since they probably would have breached YouTube’s terms – the earlier ones on a MySpace page. Merc certainly featured in them and I spent some time studying her approach. I also couldn’t help but notice that Kate featured in one from a few years ago where she lost to a somewhat bigger girl. 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 – although Kate was a noticeable exception to that rule managing to offer some impressive breast displays as she struggled not to be 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. Most girls lay demurely on their stomach while Greg untied them; waiting until he’d moved on before they got up and redressed.

Kate being Kate actually rolled on her side and exposed herself while porno hikayeleri Greg untied her; having a good chat with him in the process. I’ll swear that if it had been physically possible for her to have rolled over on her back and have had Greg untie her working between her legs, she would have done so. Needless to say she was one of the girls for whom Greg untied all of the strings.

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 (and notice that I wasn’t entirely over my thing about Kate).

“Is that why you take so many morning runs?”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“No, I was running that way long before the fights were located there.”

There had been a few fights this year already. One that Greg had untied had occurred before I’d arrived and the rest had been on days when Greg was working early; which is why I hadn’t been exposed to this arrangement before.

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 – tried to break it up; which is probably why they changed the location.

As we went back to the very earliest ones I noticed that there weren’t any strings tied to their wrists. Instead the bikini top was used to tie that off. Greg explained that the rumour was that the ropes on the wrist had been added because it wasn’t really possible to tie the elastic strings on the bikini top tight enough to hold the loser without also cutting off the blood to her hands. The story going around was that the daughter of a doctor had been a loser and when her father saw the indentations on her wrist where the tie had been he went feral. I started to give the locals their due that as much as Greg had described it as a bogan thing, a bit of thought seemed to go in to the process.

I also 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.

Dailymotion kept suggesting we look at other videos of bikini girls wrestling; which for some reason Greg thought was a good idea. There were all sorts – ranging from some play fights between friends at the beach to staged fights between models to soft porn versions where the women wore even less than a bikini or soon lost whatever they started with. One thing I did notice was that the hogtie requirement produced a different dynamic to what the Americans seem to call a domination fight.

In the latter the stronger girls seems to quite quickly physically constrain the weaker girl in an immobile hold although in the process producing what seemed to me a fairly boring contest unless there was a referee then requiring the girls to break and start again. On the other hand, the requirement in the hogtie challenge to flip the losing girl over and then tie her up produced a more free flowing match – allowing the losing girl to wiggle free – where often in evenly matched girls it seemed to be physical exhaustion that finally determined the outcome.

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 seks hikayeleri 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.

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