Grip of Fear · Part 1

Grip of Fear · Part 1 (1/2)
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Jim couldn't have been more pleased at how his blind date had developed. A cousin who gave him Paula's name and number had raved about her beauty and vivaciousness. Paula had lived up to the notices.

After seeing a Broadway show and engaging in some stimulating conversation in a dimly-lit bar, Paula and Jim had returned to her apartment. Jim had learned that Paula had come to New York a few years ago to break into show business. Since she had as yet gotten only into a few chorus lines, she was doing figure-modeling work to supplement her income and pay for dancing and acting lessons.

Jim had asked to see some of her modeling pictures, and the two were now sprawled on the floor of her living room, flipping through a scrapbook of her best poses.

Paula had a marvelous figure–with about 140 pounds beautifully distributed over a 5'8" frame–and didn't mind showing it off. But she let out a squeal of dismay as she turned a page and saw a picture of herself in the nude, reclining on a rug. "Good Lord, I'd forgotten about that one," she moaned. "A photographer talked me into that one. I regretted it soon after, and got him to give me the negative, and he also gave me this one print he made."

"Hey, how about that," "Jim grinned as he grabbed the picture for a closer look. "Now there's a real pin-up. Superb! Think I'll keep this one for my collection."

"No, you won't," Paula affirmed. "You can have a pin-up shot, but not a nudie." She reached out her hand for the picture, but Jim held the picture behind him and teased, "I don't know, Paula, this is too good to give up. Nope, I'm going to keep it."

"C'mon, Jim, gimme," she pleaded, shaking her head with aggravation. "Don't be difficult." Jim was enjoying teasing this spirited girl, and said, "If you want it back, you're going to have to take it away from me." The thought of having a brief little tussle with that delightful body intrigued him. If she didn't try to retrieve the picture, he'd simply take it. Either way, he was a winner.

But he had yet to learn about Paula. "Okay, if that's the way you want it," she sighed, "but remember that you asked for this," she warned. Before Jim could figure out what she meant, Paula dove at him. Her aggressiveness surprised him, and he could not slither away before she was atop him.. She jumped astraddle his chest, and used her full weight to pin him down.

"Hey, not so fast," Jim yelled in surprise. Since he was holding the picture he had only one free hand and she took care of that by pinning his bicep to the floor with a firm knee. Her attack had been so efficient that he was gasping in astonishment. He started to struggle but found he could hardly move. He bucked and heaved, but she rode him expertly and he couldn't unseat her. Her knee was having a paralyzing effect on his pinned bicep, and to add to his discomfort she was grinning down at him.

Jim could do nothing as she grabbed his free hand and began prying loose the picture with amazingly strong fingers. Her position astraddle him forced her skirt up to reveal plenty of nylon, and as she reached over to pry the picture loose her neckline was beautifully exposed. But now Jim could not fully appreciate the view.

Jim outweighed her by about ten pounds and always figured he could hold his own in a fight, but this pretty girl was handling him like a baby. What gives, he thought. She seemed solid as a rock underneath her smooth skin, and her arms and legs were very strong. Paula finished prying her picture loose, smiled confidently down at her victim, got up, and took all her pictures into the bedroom to put them away.

Jim, still on the floor, could only gaze at her retreating figure and wonder how such a pretty, shapely girl could be so strong. Paula returned and stood over Jim, her hands on her hips and chuckled as Jim rubbed his bicep to restore circulation. Jim finally glanced sheepishly up at her and said "You don't fight fair. I had only one hand free."

Paula tossed her head and said, "You could have had two hands if you'd been nice and returned my picture." Still trying to regain his masculine ego, Jim replied, "Well I have both hands free now. The least you can do is give me a chance in an even fight."

"Happy to oblige," she cooed. "But I warn you, what I did was no freak. I'm very strong–as you already know–and I learned how to wrestle while growing up with a bunch of lively brothers. I still enjoy a good tussle, and can still take a man on and make him say, "Auntie" and that includes you." Jim gasped, "You mean you really think you can defeat me in a fair fight?"

She sighed, "I see you're like most men–you won't believe a pin-up gal who claims she can pin you down. Believe me, when such a gal makes that claim, she can back it up. I guess the only way to convince you is to give you a personal demonstration right now, unless," she taunted, "You want to back out."

Such a direct challenge couldn't be refused. Jim jumped to his feet and said, "It should be fun showing you who's boss."

As they squared off, she casually remarked, "Oh, one more warning. Don't let me get a scissors hold. I noticed you glancing in appreciation at my legs all night. They're not only shapely, but deadly. My best weapons." Suddenly, she bent down, grabbed his cuffs, and yanked his feet from under him. He flew backwards in the air and let out an "ummph" as he landed on his rump. Before he could react, Paula grabbed a foot and began twisting it. This forced Jim over onto his stomach. He put out his hands to push himself off the floor, but Paula released her hold on his foot and pounced astride his back, knocking him flat on his face.

While her weight held him temporarily under control, Paula slipped her hands underneath his elbows and joined them at the back of his neck in a full-nelson. As she bent forward to get more leverage for her hold, she whispered in his ear, "Having fun?" He struggled energetically for several seconds, but got nowhere. Lord, she was strong, and knew how to use every pound to best advantage. He paused for breath, only to hear her taunt, "Come on, big boy, not tired already, are you? Is that all the fight you can give a girl?"

This was one of Paula's favorite tricks–once she had a hold that the man couldn't break immediately, she would taunt him about being overpowered by a "mere" girl. This usually goaded the man to struggle violently against her hold, without thought or reason to his action, thus making him waste energy recklessly and wearing him down. Paula knew how to use a man's ego to her own advantage.

The strategy worked this time, too. Jim started to toss and turn under her, but failed to buck her out of her saddle on his back. Paula figured that Jim was still strong and clever enough to break this hold soon, but he would be breathing heavily by the time he did. Jim finally managed to pry her fingers loose, got some room to maneuver, and with a supreme effort rolled her off. His tormentress was ready. The escape had placed Jim in a sitting position on the floor, and Paula quickly regained her balance, and renewed her attack by diving across his body.

"Damn!" Jim muttered as he was knocked flat on his back. With her torso draped across his chest, Paula grabbed his right wrist, sunk her other hand underneath his forearm, and clasped her own wrist to secure a wristlock. This immobilized his right arm, and she tried to tie up his other arm with her magnificent legs.

Again she was in control. When Jim paused to regain his breath again, she teased, "You're not doing so well, Honey." He was goaded into action, but felt almost smothered. His right arm was a prisoner of her wristlock, and her body was firm and heavy against his chest and shoulders. He had managed to keep his left arm free from her antangling legs, but he could feel the long, supple muscles they contained and knew she hadn't been kidding when she called them her best weapons. Stay away from them, he told himself.

He was now aware of Paula's strategy in taunting him, and cursed himself for falling for her trick and expending energy he could use right now. She always seemed to be resting atop him, and he trying to push her off. Now he again tried to work free from her, remaining calm in the face of her continuing taunts. Slowly he pushed her body down off his chest, and got some breathing room. Paula clung tightly to her wristlock, but could not stop Jim from sliding away and using his free hand to grab one of her arms and wrench away from her. The opponents rolled away from each other so they could not be jumped, and slowly rose to their feet to fach each other again.

The contrast was striking. Jim looked disheveled and tired, and his breath came in gasps. Paula looked bouncy and as fresh as when the fight started.

Having tested Jim's strength and agility, and knowing she had already tired him considerably, Paula was confident she could handle him at her leisure now. "Say, that was a good warm-up," She enthused. "Ready for another go? I haven't had a good work out in weeks." Jim could only grunt in reply and wonder if he might turn the tables. But how? She always seemed a step ahead of him, and he was finding it difficult to get a good hold of her, since she was such a lovely bundle of curves and wore such flimsy, form-fitting clothing. He needed to find a solution soon, or find himself pinned as she had promised.

They sparred briefly, and then Paula got a good grip on his shirt front. She raised her right foot, placed it on his stomach, and began to sit down on the floor. Jim was pulled down atop her, but Paula used the leverage in her leg to send him catapulting over her head to the floor behind her.

As Paula scrambled to her hands and knees and turned towards him, he was still shaking his head from the flip. She grabbed his right arm and began twisting, forcing him to roll over and over. Paula was well in control now, and would not give Jim a chance to mount a defense. The pain in his arm was so intense he hardly noticed her sit down beside him, grab his left hand, place her feet against his shoulder, and lean back to apply a painful arm stretch.

After draining the energy from that arm, too, Paula released her hold and announced, "Now, for the piece de resistance. One scissors hold coming up." Though weak and dazed, Jim was fighting to the end. He muttered, "No, no." and tried to get away, knowing he was through if she got her powerful legs around him. But he could do little as he felt Paula grab a handful of hair to halt his scramble away from her, heard the rustle of nylon and silk as she crouched into position behind his head, and saw her legs snake around his neck.

Jim grabbed her ankles, but could not hold them. As they slid together, and locked in place, Jim's fate was sealed. Paula sang out "That does it!" Ripples of muscle danced along her calves and thighs as she applied pressure. She grabbed his nearest arm, and this left Jim with only one weakened arm to claw at the nylon noose around his neck.

"Aawk!" he gasped as his air supply was cut off. He looked up, and saw himself surrounded by a prison of nylon, garters, delicate lingerie, skirt–and shapely strong legs.

Now Paula was smiling in amusement at his struggles, and said, "Like I said, nobody breaks my scissors hold." She could hold him here forever, but gave one mighty last squeeze and released her hold. His head flopped to the floor, and Paula got astraddle his chest, pinned his shoulders with her knees, and assumed a victory pose.

"Now are you convinced a pin-up gal can pin a man down?" she asked. Jim nodded silently, fear and defeat in his eyes.

"Let's hear you say 'Auntie'," she demanded.

His voice was almost a sob when he obeyed. "Auntie," he said.

With her victory on record, Paula arose and went to the bathroom for a comb and lipstick. When she returned, he was still laying on his back, his eyes closed, his face red from the humiliating experience he had just undergone. So she sat on his chest, tucked her legs to one side, and used him for a dressing stool as she fixed her lipstick, combed her hair, and straightened her nylons after the fight.

"Hey, that was fun," she said. "Want to do it again sometime?"

Jim groaned, so she bent down and kissed him, and then stood and he stumbled to his feet and tried to put himself back into shape, stuffing his shirttails back in, pushing his hair with his hand. He couldn't look her in the eye.

"Am I going to see you again?" she asked sincerely. "Please don't take your defeat too badly. I've done this to much bigger men."

"Look, Paula," Jim said "You won, I lost. A fellow hates to have a woman take him like that, but it happened. So now I'll just split from here, try to forget it, and–hey, what are you doing?"

For Paula had stepped between him and the door and there was a strange, hard look in her eyes. "I'm afraid I can't let you go just now, Jim," she said, her voice deep and authoritative. "You see, we girls need men, as escorts, breadwinners, to add a necessary part to our lives. And I've already lost too many of them when I showed them I was their physical superior."

"Do you mean to say that you're going to prevent me from leaving?" Jim asked incredulously.

"To put it more exactly," Paula said in a flat, positive voice, "You will leave here only when I tell you that you may and only under the conditions I dictate."

"You do understand that this is kidnapping, a violation of the Lindbergh Law, something that carries the most severe of penalties," Jim said, his voice rising.

"I think the publicity will be interesting, you and me on the covers of all the sensational magazines, and the headline: 'Wishful thinker claims beauty kidnapped him.'"

Jim tried to dart around her, only to find himself caught in a bear hug and she had his wrists securely in her grasp. She backed him up against a corner of the room next to the window, pressing her beautiful body tightly against his, her freshly lipsticked mouth only inches away from his, her perfume filling his nostrils.

He felt his body relaxing and immediately he regretted it, for she had quickly whipped the end of a venetian blind cord around his crossed wrists, then, when he bent low in an effort to bull his way out of the corner, she draped one shapely leg over his neck, reached over his bent-over body and lashed the cord in a hard square knot.

He tried to run with his wrists bound together and only succeeded in pulling up the blind. Then Paula got a knife and cut the cord, causing the blinds to drop down again, resting on its tapes.

After this the struggle was over. She jerked a rug on which he stood, bent one leg up to where it reached the wrists and tied it in place, and then Jim was Paula's to do with as she pleased.

"What do you intend to do to me?" Jim asked, red-faced and helpless on the floor.

"I thought it might be fun to call your cousin and thank her for introducing us, Jim." Paula said.

"But she's part of my family!" Jim wailed.

"And how well do you know your family?" Paula asked, her voice cool and cruel. "Your cousin Audrey and I have had a lot of fun together with weaklings like you and her excellent camera techniques."

Wildly Jim writhed on the floor, trying to reach the cords that bound him with stretching, clawing fingers until Paula brought out some wide adhesive tape and, shaping his fingers into a fist, deprived him of their use. "Say 'Auntie' again," Paula insisted, &quo

Grip of Fear · Part 1 (1/2)
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