Past Considerations

 

by Belial

 

"There's a Jillian Slater to see you, sir. She doesn't have an appointment."

 

John Chance reclined slightly, still watching the rain pelt the window of his 25th story corner office. He had to smile, although to the casual observer, nothing about his face had changed. It took someone who knew those angular features, understood those dark eyes to recognize any change in John's mood.

 

"No, she doesn't." He said. "Send her in."

 

It had been a couple of years, but he was still struck by the way Jill Slater could dominate a room. She sached in through the dark double doors, her wavy light brown hair plastered by the rain to her head and the shoulders of a brown leather jacket that had seen better days. His eyes were drawn to the black denim jeans that stretched around the heart stopping box of her hips, and clung like a second skin to her full, yet still athletic thighs. The jacket was open, and the pink tank top she wore beneath clung to her generous, bra-less breasts. She stood 5'4" or so, and possessed a broad shouldered, lascivious physique that could not hope to disguise it's overt sexuality. Not that Jill was trying. She reminded John very much of the women of his youth. Obvious.

 

"Jesus Johnny," Jillian said, her voice semi sweet, with the tinge of cigarettes and vodka creeping in at the edges. She still had the habit of tilting her head down when she talked - looking up through her eyelashes like a child. Cute. "Scimitars are a bit much don't you think?" She was referring to the display of Japanese katanas on the wall opposite his bookcase.

 

"Clients find them reassuring. Let's them know they're getting what they paid for."

 

"I thought you were corporate law."

 

"What's your point?"

 

"You going to offer me a seat?" Jillian asked. She had crossed the floor and put her hands on the high back of his black patent leather guest chair. John gestured with one hand, and she sank heavily into the plush seat, one leg dangling mischievously over the arm. She reached into her inside pocket for a battered pack of soaking Marlboros.

 

"I'm going to have to ask you not to smoke." John said, with just a hint of irony in his voice.

 

"What? You quit?"

 

"I'm afraid so." John stared frankly at her, letting the memory of her face with it's large dark brown eyes, high brow and vaguely Croatian nose and mouth mesh with the beauty as she was now. "You've gained weight." He said with a smile.

 

"Oh you are such a sweetheart." If she was pissed off, Jillian didn't show it. It was as though they hadn't missed a beat. He had always enjoyed her street-wise banter, reminding him, from a comfortable distance, of where he had once been. She looked around his office, obviously uncertain of how to begin. John sat back and put his hands behind his head.

 

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" John said, trying to help her out.

 

Jill smiled, but her eyes were serious. "I want back in." She said.

 

"In? What, to the Met?" John said, incredulous.

 

"No, to the fuckin' country club John. Of course the Met. It's been 2 years."

 

"Jill - you weren't just suspended for bad behavior. You were banished. Julie's treasurer of the club now - there's no way."

 

At the mention of Julie's name, Jillian's eyes took on a flat, catlike aspect. "So? Talk to her."

 

"Get real."

 

"You two still an item?"

 

"Off and on."

 

"Still jerkin' your chain eh?"

 

"Something like that."

 

"Be honest Johnny. That beating I gave her was the best thing you ever saw at the Met."

 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"You were there, babe. Watching the security tape. You fucking hypocrite. You watched the whole thing, then voted with the rest of them the next day to kick me out. Her word against mine. You could have come in right at the start, but you didn't. You watched me humiliate your little princess all night long, and you didn't do a damned thing about it. You owe me."

 

John pursed his lips. She couldn't prove it of course. He had no idea how she had found out, but on the off chance that she was only guessing, he remained poker faced - ever the player. He had been there all right, in the security room with its banks of video monitors. It was not uncommon for him to prowl the club late at night, due to his chronic insomnia. And he remembered how on one screen, the door to one of the fighting rooms opened, and Julie and Jillian entered, alone - a complete violation of club policy. He had played that match over and over in his mind's eye ever since.

 

Jill was MetWest's answer to Babe Ruth - a towering talent with a sewer mouth and uninhibited manner. She could drink any of the male members of the club under the table, and did so almost every game night, usually after dominating her hapless competition with a peerless combination of strength, skill and killer instinct. She could beat the more muscular girls with technique and flexibility, and overpower most of the others. She had been the heart of the club, despite, or perhaps because of, her lack of breeding. Uniquely, she was popular with both the men and the women at the Met. No one seemed to resent her dominance, coming as it did with a kind of down to earth "I'll pin you, then let's party" attitude.

 

Things changed when Julie arrived.

 

John had been Julie's sponsor, and she was known in financial circles for her deft handling of several large institutional accounts for a prestigious Swiss investment bank. As Julie began to wrestle her way up the rankings, she began to threaten Jillian in a way other contenders never had. Despite her inexperience, Julie was clearly superior to all but the best girls at the club, and gradually, her popularity came to rival Jillian's. At least among the men. Among the other competitors, Julie was a pariah - her arrogance was overwhelming, and she was not above flaunting her Stanford education in Jillian's face whenever the opportunity arose. Although Jillian had won her first few bouts against the newcomer - the matches were too close, and often skewed by one rule or another in Jillian's favor. After a few short months, few believed that Jill could win a straight up, all out wrestling match against the young lioness.

 

So when John had seen the door open to the fighting room, with it's king sized bed, sunken carpeted area and raised observer's deck at the back, and watched as the two women strutted into the softly lit chamber, he hadn't gone down there to break things up. He decided against remembering that under no circumstances were the girls allowed to fight on MetWest grounds without proper supervision. Instead, what he chose to do, was sit down at the console, and watch. He even turned up the sound.

 

Julie was striking in a pink bra and panties, her long blonde hair shining straight and soft down her back. She was heavier in those days, before she had taken up serious distance running, but strong and supple looking. Her skin was a flawless golden brown, and her trademark perfect proportions set her apart even from the stunning figure of Jillian in her prime. Jill was slightly shorter and wider, with more breast, more shoulder, more thigh and buttock than her opponent. She wore a powder blue bra and full coverage panties which stretched tight around her sensual hips. John experimented with the zoom on the lens, got in so close to the sheer material of Jill's panties that he could see the tight creases form and disappear as she walked. Unconsciously, he lit up and took a long, satisfying pull on the filterless. The girls proceeded to the carpet, and got down to it with little preamble.

 

Julie was silent, but Jill's grunts and curses, whines and taunts filled the soundproofed room as she struggled. Her face was an ever-changing gauge of how the fight was going. Out of an early lock up, she exulted as she scooped Julie up around the ribs and lifted the lighter blonde off her feet in a crushing chest to chest bearhug. John zoomed in on Julie's face as she gritted her teeth. She pushed against the firm shoulders of her opponent, trying to arch her back to relieve the pressure. Her piercing blue eyes and sharp features were an elegant contrast to Jill's trashy good looks, and John appreciated the chance to compare the two faces so conveniently captured in the same shot. Seconds later Jill groaned and grimaced as Julie squirmed and successfully countered with a side head lock to break the hug. Back and forth the girls worked on their feet - neither frenetic or hurried in her movements, but deliberate and precise. Julie's half nelson was met with a crafty hair pull. Jill's choke from behind was broken with a wrist lock, and subsequent armbar as Julie obviously sought to work on the bigger girl's beefy shoulders and biceps with grueling locks and stretches. It was evident that the girls had discussed at length what would be acceptable in this contest, and early on at least, it appeared to John that both were observing the terms of the 'contract'.

 

Julie scored the first take down with a double leg shoot, showing her quickness and putting Jill on her backside with an impressive jiggle throughout the brunette's breast and belly. Julie pounced, getting one leg past the guard as Jill desperately scissored up the blonde's right thigh. Long minutes passed as Jill clutched Julie close, one arm around the blonde's neck, the other underneath Julie's right arm to clasp at the blonde's upper back. Julie struggled and writhed to free her leg from the powerful limbs of her foe. The dim overhead lights began to glisten on Julie's back as her skin began to slick. Sliding up on Jill's body, Julie finally freed her right leg and mounted her opponent, putting her chest on Jill's face and spreading her legs with a skillful grapevine. Julie's piano-player hands gripped Jill's wrists and held them out from her body, the brunette's fists clenched in frustration as she cried aloud from beneath her tormentress. Julie had scored the first pin, and sat up on Jill's belly, tossing her glistening hair back and staring with a curious intensity at Jill's pouting face. Julie rose to her knees, maintaining eye contact, and ran a finger along the edge of her panties to smooth them back into position while she straddled the fallen brunette. With taunting deliberation, Julie finally stood and strutted away, the very picture of supreme confidence. Jill lay on her back in shock, then sat up, shaking her head.

 

"You had enough?" Julie's voice was dripping with sarcasm. She knew the answer as well as John did. Jill laughed as she rolled to her knees, then stood.

 

"Let's go." Jill said.

 

Julie muscled Jill to the wall in a jiggle of straining legs and backsides. The girls were locked up high, heads in tight together, while their arms snaked about the neck and upperback of the opponent. The tight infighting pudged out the biceps of the women as they twisted and turned in one another's grasp. It wasn't that Julie was stronger than Jill, but she had a true knack of using leverage and always seemed to be one step ahead of the brunette. Fighting in close to one corner, Julie pulled Jill off the one wall, then shoved her back hard into the adjacent surface, drawing a breathy grunt from Jill in the process. Julie leaned in close with her shoulder, pressing in on Jill with all her weight while pinning the brunette's wrists to the wall. Jill just couldn't get off her back, and John could hear her gasping with effort. Julie hooked Jill's arms in her own, and once again pulled Jill off the wall, then drove her hard into the adjoining surface. Jill desperately cinched up around Julie's waist as the blonde pushed her body forward, hands on the wall above Jill's head. John could see the tight flesh of Julie's back bunching up in Jill's grip, but before the bearhug could take effect, Julie pulled Jill out and slammed her back again, shaking the brunette up and breaking the hold. With Jill winded, Julie roughly spun the brunette around, putting her face up hard against the wall like a cop breaking down a snitch in an alley. She then sunk a right handed claw into the firm meat of Jillian's hamstring, the knuckles disappearing beneath the fold of Jill's left buttock. Julie instantly crossed over with her left hand to repeat the cruel manuever under Jill's right buttock. Cinching in tight, Julie jerked hard and tossed her head as she sent shockwaves of pain through the tender area. Julie's teeth bared in a fierce snarl as she poured on the punishment, and Jill pressed her hands flat against the wall, helpless to counter. After only a few seconds, Jill tapped quickly on the wall, and Julie released her instantly. Julie playfully patted Jill on the buttocks before turning away, leaving Jill with a shocked look on her teary-eyed face as she slowly doubled over. So Julie had pinned her, and now she had drawn a submission. John wondered how much more of this Jill could take.

 

Jill came off the wall in a rush, her eyes glittering in the dim light. Julie's back was turned, and she was caught completely unawares as the brunette lunged and trapped her in a side headlock. Jill crowed aloud as she stomped around the room, pumping up and down with Julie's head in her right arm as Julie stumbled helplessly along. Jill then deftly twisted Julie, placing the blonde's head between her thighs, and John sat up in his seat, suddenly concerned. A piledriver was only ever allowed in mock matches, between combatants who had practiced the move together. But before he could move, Jill reached down to Julie's midsection, and hoisted the girl up onto her shoulders for a backbreaker. Jill's strength was amazing - she handled Julie like a child. Julie's face was suddenly red and wore a stunned expression as Jill flexed up and down, pouring the pressure onto the spine of the helpless blonde. Jill's legs and buttocks wobbled heroically as she held Julie aloft. The brunette swelled with confidence for the first time in the match as the blonde gurgled piteously. Finally, with careful, plodding steps, Jill staggered towards the bed.

 

John could hear the springs protest as Jillian dumped Julie heavily onto the mattress. The blonde bounced wildly, her arms and legs limp, sheets billowing upon impact. Jill was on her like a cat, straddling the blonde and pushing her roughly onto her stomach. Jill captured Julie's right arm and wrenched it back until the blonde's wrist brushed her backbone. Jill gloried in the moment, sitting up straight on Julie's backside, holding Julie's right wrist and fist in both hands. Jill was grinning like a schoolgirl, and she tossed her head to clear the hair out of her eyes. John flashed on the image of Jillian bombing down an open road in a convertible on a hot summer afternoon - she brought that kind of joy to her wrestling. Julie was less appreciative of the moment, squirming beneath the larger woman, but clearly pinned by Jillian's mass. Suddenly, Julie screamed into the pillow, and batted wildly at the sheets with her left hand. Jill released the numb right arm and raised her fists into the air, still seated upon her opponent.

 

"Get off me." Julie snarled. She had turned her head to one side, allowing John to see past Jillian's body, and he could see the feint track of tears upon Julie's cheek. Perhaps it had been the tone of her voice, part command, part plea, that had touched off some deep, pre-historic instinct in Jill. Looking back, John had become convinced that Jill had not planned to do what she did. Perhaps if Julie had remained silent, weeping, Jill would have released her and returned to the center of the room to begin again as they had agreed.

 

Instead, Jill reached forward and fit Julie's chin snugly in both her hands, pulling back luxuriously as the blonde groaned in outrage. Jill's mouth smiled - not the full, top-down-doin'-sixty grin, but something else. A smirk, or a leer. Julie slapped the bed when her back could take no more, but Jill would have none of it. Whatever rules had been discussed, Jill had just torn up the agreement.

 

Julie's groans turned to muffled cries as Jill was content to ride her for over a minute. Sweat trickled down the full, brown shoulder of the brunette - beads of light wending their way across the flesh. Julie's hair was trapped in Jill's grip, obscuring that exquisite, nordic face, but John could see Julie's eyes were closed, her lips mashed painfully together. She was suffering.

 

Jill released Julie finally, and the blonde pitched forward to lie still upon the bed, hands above her head, giving John a nice view of her rounded shoulder and bicep in repose. Julie rose from the steaming body, slowly, stepping to the floor and taking a patient handful of Julie's sleek blonde tresses. Julie responded with sullen acceptance, following the pain up off the bed, and then Jill pulled her in for a standing bearhug from the rear. Julie pushed at the strong wrists of her foe, pulled at the brunette's fists for a moment, then went slack as the pressure began to soak through her. Julie's face wore a tired expression of discomfort as Jill smiled sleepily at her shoulder. Another minute passed as their torsos welded together in a line from shoulder to hip.

 

With Julie's head lolling in a daze, Jill shifted her grip, bending her knees suddenly to employ a perfect suplex on her unsuspecting opponent. Jill lifted Julie's slack body up and over, depositing the blonde into the bed on her neck and upperback. Julie's legs pitched up over her body, and as Jill released her, the blonde did a slow back somersault, and lazily slid off the far side of the mattress to land with a soft thud. Jill lay on her back for a moment, drinking it in, then got heavily to her feet. Now Julie was manageable.

 

From that point on, the girls got down to wrestling as John had never seen it before. The contest was so intimate, so personal - it was completely distinct from the MetWest's usual fare. The women's bodies took on a heavy, sultry aspect as fatigue softened their muscles, took the edge off their movements. They never strayed far from one another, as though contact with the flesh of the opponent was somehow nourishing, sustaining. Julie was competitive, but she had lost that extra step, and was reduced to going toe to toe with the larger, stronger Jill. The girls traded powerholds - headlocks, headscissors, bodyscissors, bearhugs - all tactics that favored Jill, but Julie had lost the ability to fight any other way.

 

John's memory of the contest was not precise. His attention pooled at certain moments of clarity, but left him with only a vague impression of the action at other times. He almost seemed to recall the lulls in greater detail than the high spots. He could see the girls side by side, on all fours, each with an arm around the other's back as they wearily tried to ride one another to carpet. Or Jill walking Julie back to the center of the room with one arm around the blonde's waist to prevent her from getting away - and Julie just stumbling along, compliant. Julie trapping a seated Jill, leaning over her to pull both the brunette's arms back. John remembered Jill's face - the frustration as she just sat there helpless, breasts sagging heavily in their cups as her stomach bunched up. But as the fight wore on, almost every exchange saw Julie on her back, absorbing another pin as she grew weaker, and weaker. Jill was tired too, but her weight and will were decisive. She was winning each individual battle, recalled by John geographically as it were: the battle in the corner; the battle on the carpeted step; the wars around and on the bed. Jill was content to grind Julie into the carpet, then pull her up for some more. She could go on all night at that pace.

 

John had lost track of the time. Julie had been pinned countless times, and had just taken another three count. She lay starfished on her back, staring up at the ceiling, slowly bending her right leg to raise the knee before it fell again to the carpet. Her cheeks glistened with sweat and tears, and her soft straight hair bowed out beneath her head in sopping testimony to her defeat. Jill had strutted away to straighten her bra and panties, but was moving in again when Julie mumbled, "I give."

 

Jill stopped, looking down. "What?"

 

"I give. That's it."

 

Jill seemed to consider this, and cocked her head to one side. "You know what?" She said. "I don't think so."

 

Julie opened her eyes half way, shook her head slowly from side to side. "Please."

 

"I tell you what." Julie walked over to the observer's area where she began fiddling with the recessed CD player. Careless hands held and discarded CDs with practiced abandon. "You make it to the door. Just get to the hallway, and I'll let you go." She examined a CD, obviously the one she had been looking for, and dropped it into the chamber. "It's that simple Julie."

 

The music began to play. Loud.

 

 

"Well I don't know why I came here tonight

 

I got the feeling that something ain't right

 

I'm so scaaared in case I fall off my chair

 

And I'm wonderin' how I'll get down the stairs

 

Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right

 

Here I am,

 

Stuck in the middle with you"

 

 

Julie stepped down from the raised section of the room and began dancing with small movements, clearly enjoying herself as she drew ever closer to Julie. John laughed out loud in spite of himself. Up until that moment, he had been watching a wrestling match. Now it had become a lesson. He had to hand it to her - Jillian certainly had a sense of occasion.

 

Julie gasped and rolled painfully to her hands and knees. The camera panned over Jillian's shoulder as she stalked her prey, and picked up Julie's exhausted movements with a haunting detachment. Her existence had come down to this: inching her way to the door, her body trembling with as much anxiety as exertion. Jill minced past the blonde, then began to shimmy backwards as Julie plowed forward. John swallowed as Jill's full, powerful backside bulged seductively in it's sheer material with her movements. Stepping in time to the music, she lined Julie up, and sat down heavily upon the blonde, crushing her to carpet with a groan. Seated upon Julie's back, Jill tossed her hair and continued to gyrate her arms and torso with a carefree rhythm that reminded John of the Watusi. Then she stood and took Julie by the ankles, and dragged her back across the room. The look on Julie's face sent waves through John's stomach. He had never seen her so desolate. Every now and then, Julie's breathy groans rose above the music, and it was that contrast in sound, the total incongruity between the music and the whimpering noises of a conquered woman, that had nailed John to his seat. Although part of him wanted to, he couldn't possibly interfere now. He told himself that things had gone too far by that point anyway.

 

Jill had set the CD player on 'repeat'. "Stuck in the Middle With You" started up again, as it would throughout the night. John would never again be able to hear that song and not see Jill tormenting Julie with the promise of escape, only to crush her hopes at the last moment. Jill set up on all fours in front of the door, allowing Julie to crawl the entire length of the floor. Then, the brunette came forward like a middle linebacker, pancaking Julie to the carpet, exulting in the power she had over her rival, while Julie moaned on her back. Jill stalked Julie from behind like a jaguar cub playing with a wounded bird as Julie crawled on all fours. Jill would pounce from behind tackling Julie around the hips and tumbling her over and over on the carpet. She seemed to love bearing the slack weight of the other woman in her still-strong arms, taking indescribable pleasure in just handling Julie's body.

 

Another time, Jill trapped Julie against the wall, holding the exhausted blonde in place with nothing but her hip, pressing Julie to the wall as she tried to squeeze past. Eventually, Julie dared not stand: when she had, Jill tackled her hard and drove her shoulder or back into the floor with a booming crash. For long moments at a time, Jill simply sat upon, or otherwise burdened Julie with the weight of her body, sometimes cradling her, or just treating her like a human futon. One particularly long sequence saw Jill seated on her haunches with Julie's head trapped behind her left knee, effectively muffling the blonde's cries with thick thigh flesh, while drawing Julie's left leg across her body to be similarly folded beneath Jill's right leg. This exposed Julie's tight belly and ribs to Jillian's cruel grip which explored the area without mercy for several minutes.

 

Whenever Julie quit on her, Jill would bull the girl over onto her back and put her ample breasts on the blonde's face, goading her to escape. Julie's cries grew sweeter, more plaintive. She was at the point of begging Jillian to stop. She continued to surrender, as though Jillian just hadn't heard her the last time. She continued to try for the door. And throughout it all, John could not take his eyes off the scene, knowing full well that this was definitely not what the MetWest club was about. Knowing that he was just as responsible as Jillian for Julie's destruction.

 

It ended when Julie, trapped beneath the full weight of the brunette, simply stopped writhing, stopped crying. Jill had Julie in a reverse sleeper, crushing the blonde's face to her breasts while lying atop the girl, and finally, a look of satisfaction crept into her face. She sat back on Julie's stomach, looking down at the soft, wet, unconscious face, delighting in the sight of Julie's burbling lips as streaks of soaked blonde hair matted around the girl's cheeks, chin and neck. There was an expression often used at the Met: "Climbing into her trunks", which referred to one woman's domination of another using close-fighting techniques. Jillian had climbed into Julie's trunks all right, and broken her - woman to woman. Jill got up and all but skipped out of the room, leaving Julie on her back to be serenaded by Stealer's Wheel.

 

John had left the control room almost immediately. He had ran to the fighting chamber, stopped short when he saw Julie's body, heavy and still upon the carpet. He turned the CD off, then returned to lift Julie and carry her over to the bed. When she came to, he stayed with her, holding her. She was unhurt, but she had been held in thrall by another woman, and would not soon forget the experience. In a strange sort of way, John owed Jill for that moment - the only moment in his life when Julie had ever really needed him.

 

"Hey, John. You still with me babe?"

 

John snapped out of his musing and focused on the woman in front of him. "Yeah. The Club. Why now?"

 

Jillian's eyes became distant, her voice grew quiet. She made the transition from tough to helpless with suspicious ease. "I need to get away John. You've been there. Sometimes it hasn't been easy for me. I don't have a fancy law degree. I was like a queen at the Met."

 

"Times have changed. You wouldn't last 10 minutes with some of the girls now. It wouldn't be like it was."

 

"I'll take that chance."

 

"Then there's Julie. Like I said, there's no way."

 

"I've got the tape John."

 

John blinked. "What tape?"

 

"The security tape. The one you watched. The one you star in, by the way, at the end. Very touching."

 

John swallowed. He had looked high and low for that tape, had feared it had been erased, or lost amongst the countless tapes in the video library. How the hell had she gotten her hands on it?

 

"I've watched it, John," Jill continued. "I could do this the hard way - threaten to give it to Julie - she'd know you were there by the changes in focus. But I know you. We couldn't have a done a better job for you than if you had scripted that fight personally. And even that wouldn't have been as good, would it? You want the tape Johnny? Get me back in. That's the deal."

 

John pursed his lips, listened as the rain beat hard against the window behind him. Jill stared at him, her intensity unabated after all this time. That tape. That fight. It was like the missing copy in a Sports Review apartment wrestling collection. How often he had wanted to relive that night. How badly he wanted to check his memory, see if it had happened as he had imagined, see how much distortion had crept in over the years. And then there was the threat of revealing it to Julie, not to mention the committee. As bargaining chips went, Jill had found herself a beauty.

 

John nodded and rose from his chair. Crossing to the wet bar, he poured himself and his guest Jack Daniels on the rocks. Jillian rose to meet him at the bar, returning his smile. He lifted his glass.

 

"Welcome back." John said.