Cousin Freddy by MBP MWFAN318@aol.com Wrestling with my cousin. “Do you give in?” I was wrestling with my cousin Freddy, and I was losing. Freddy’s skinny legs were wrapped around me, not exactly in a scissors hold, but helping to keep me under control. We had been in the same position for nearly two minutes; I could neither escape, nor could I give up. Freddy asked again. “Do you give in?” I wasn’t getting out, but I just couldn’t give up. You see, Freddy was short for Winifred, but everyone used her nickname. She was my second cousin, kind of pretty but thin and gangly. Freddy was just 12 years old and I was more than two years older. I was pretty athletic, had just started working out and my body was starting to fill out and show some muscle. I had to be stronger than my skinny cousin, but it wasn’t working out that way. Exasperated, Freddy said, “C’mon, give in. You’re not getting out.” She was right. So I finally submitted. Freddy released me, a wide grin on her pretty face. “I told you that I’m stronger than you,” Freddy laughed, as she helped me to my feet. “Just remember, I’m always going to be stronger than you, no matter what.” I was in no position to argue. We composed ourselves and adjusted our attire, and went to join our families. I could tell that Freddy wasn’t going to say anything to anyone, that it would be our little secret. That was more than fine with me. Freddy left the next day, but my humiliation did not. Every time I would consider what happened, I would get this feeling in the pit of my stomach and I’d feel weak. I understood it was just a wrestling match that I had lost, but even in this day and age it was difficult losing to a younger and smaller girl. It took weeks before I got over it, but even then it was in the back of my mind. It was two years before I saw Freddy again. She lived on the other side of the country and it was my family’s turn to visit. When we arrived, Freddy ran to me and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. She whispered in my ear, “I’m looking forward to the rematch.” I had been planning my revenge. I was working out three times a week, not so much as a bodybuilder would, but I was lifting weights and doing pushups and I had gotten a lot stronger. Seeing Freddy, however, brought back to life those negative feelings from two years back. I was determined to win this time and the demons would be released. Our parents went out to dinner; Freddy and I said we’d eat in. We were finally alone and Freddy wasted no time in calling me out. Her house had a big room that was used for lots of things, including exercising, playing games and working on the computer. We adjourned to that area, and I took stock of my cousin. Winifred was still pretty thin, but no longer gangly. She had breasts! This shouldn’t have surprised me, but for some reason I hadn’t expected it. She still had the same pretty face. I could tell, better than two years ago, that her arms and legs showed sinewy muscle. She looked pretty strong (for a girl) but I was sure I was a lot stronger. I was more than ready for the match. “Let’s go,” I said, and popped off my tennis shoes and socks. I was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, as was Freddy. We moved to the mat that was in the center of the play room, and started to wrestle. The match was not turning out as I planned. We had clashed and dragged each other to the ground and tried for an advantage. Freddy was doing better than me. Basically, we just keep rolling each other over, trying for a pin. Freddy spent more time on top, and held the attempted pins longer. We would grab the other’s hands and would push against them. Freddy’s slim, sinewy arms were more than a match for my more heavily muscled version. When she was on top, she was able to push my hands to the mat for a short time, although I always was able to push back so I wasn’t officially pinned. When I got on top, I could keep her body down with my weight advantage, which was at least 50 pounds, but I could not pin her arms. Eventually, Freddy would unbalance me and get back on top. We were both getting tired, but Freddy was winning. She was on top of me, legs pinned against my side, holding my wrists to the mat. I could raise my arms just a few inches, then Freddy would slam them back down. For the first time, I could see she was grinning at me as she knew she had control. An involuntary giggle from her caused me to expend my energy ferociously and I managed to unbalance her. But I could not get on top as Freddy rolled me onto my back again, and this time her pin was complete. “I’m still stronger than you,” she cooed, not bothering to wait for a concession. Pinned down, I thought of the girls I hung with, most of whom were 14 or 15. I couldn’t imagine losing to one of them, but I had lost to my 14 year old cousin, so who knows. I couldn’t look at Freddy, turning my head and closing my eyes. If anything, this was even worse than the first time. She released my arms but not her hold, simply moving up to sit on my shoulders. “Look at me,” she commanded, and I was afraid to refuse. She smiled down at me and began wiggling in a manner that manifested her control. She stopped and simply posed prettily, hands on her head. Her position was defiantly female; it destroyed my male ego. Freddy got off of me and stood, helping me to my feet as she had two years ago. She took a couple of steps back and flashed a muscle pose while sticking her tongue out at me. Then she spun and left the room, and I walked dazedly to the guest room. As with the previous match, Freddy mentioned nothing to anyone. We didn’t wrestle again, but I was there another six days. It was extremely difficult to be around Freddy, but I could not avoid it. The worst of it was when our families decided to pose for a family photo to document our visit. Freddy wore a dress, pantyhose, and open-toed dress shoes. She was a cross between a little girl and a young woman, and for some reason that served to seriously underscore my defeat. And the fact that the enlarged photograph hung on our living room wall added a daily reminder. But as before, I got over it. I didn’t see Freddy again for more than three years. I was a college sophomore, attending a large, well-regarded Midwestern university. Someone knocked on the door of my tiny apartment and I opened the door. I didn’t know the girl standing in the hallway, but she was beautiful and somehow familiar. I guess I was gawking, when the girl spoke. “Hey, cuz, don’t you recognize me?” It took a few more seconds before the voice sunk in. “Freddy?” I said incredulously. “That’s right,“ she smiled, as she looked around me into the apartment. “Aren’t you going to invite me in.” I stepped aside. She walked in and looked around and I stared after her. Freddy had filled out. She was now around 5’6” and 125 pounds. Her face her changed from girl pretty to woman beautiful. Her breasts were full, and her butt was amazing. I couldn’t see her legs in the jeans, but I was guessing they were great. She was my cousin, I knew, but at least it was legal to look at her. I said, “What are you doing here, Freddy? Where are your parents?” Freddy corrected me. “Please don’t call me Freddy anymore,” she said. “I prefer Winifred, or even Winnie. I’m a Senior in high school, and I’m checking out colleges. The folks are with the dean who is giving them the grand tour. Your parents tell me you’re getting a great education here, so I came to take a look.” “Sorry, Winifred, but it may take some time to get used to calling you that. It’s a great college. Are you pre-med?” “I’m thinking of becoming a vet,” she answered. Then switching subjects, Winifred said, “Where would we wrestle? There’s no room in here.” Wrestle? I wasn’t even thinking of that, but my body suddenly was 500 pounds and I couldn’t move. “C’mon Peter, don’t you want to try it again? Or do you concede, as I’ve told you before, that I’ll always be stronger than you?” Obviously, I couldn’t refuse. Women know how to touch men’s buttons and Winnie was pressing mine. “You’re not still stronger than me,” I said unconvincingly. “Let me change, and we’ll go find an empty gym.” Several minutes later, we entered the third gymnasium we hit, and locked the door. Like all of the others, it had basketball courts, including one full court setup, gymnastics apparatus, exercise machines and free weights, and plenty of mats. I moved to the nearest one and removed my shirt. Winifred whistled. I had kept working out over the years because I liked it. Working out hadn’t helped me the last time I faced Winnie, but at 5’10’’ and 180 pounds, my upper body was now well- defined. I teasingly struck a double biceps pose. Winnie came over to me and stroked a hand across one of my biceps. “Pretty impressive, Peter. You think they’ll help you?” She always knew just what to do to put me on the defensive. I said nothing but Winnie had scored and she knew it. Winifred moved away from me and slowly removed her shirt. I didn’t know what she was doing, and was watching her intently, but it turned out she was wearing a bathing suit underneath. She glanced back and smiled; her look said, “What were you expecting?” I felt sheepish, again, as she removed the rest of her clothing. In the meantime, I took off my pants - I was wearing Bermuda shorts underneath - as Winnie faced me. She looked incredible in her one-piece suit; as good as any of the Baywatch babes. Her arms and legs had filled out and she was pretty well-muscled, as a swimmer would be. Again, Winifred was not nearly as well-defined as me, but it didn’t matter previously. She sashayed over and pressed up against me. She looked up into my eyes as she was half a head shorter, her breasts were against my lower chest; she knew I was affected by her proximity. Then Winnie grabbed my head suddenly and pivoted and flipped me over her shoulder. I fell rudely on the mat and scrambled up, Winnie just standing there laughing. “That’s cheating,” I said. “No,” Winnie replied, “That was just fun.” She was right. Nothing had happened and she hadn’t attempted to take advantage of it. It was fun - for HER - but once again I was on the defensive. I had to overcome the five years of feelings at losing to Freddy, I mean Winifred, and nothing that had happened yet had helped. She was toying with me and she knew it. I steeled myself, and prepared mentally for the wrestling match. Winnie gave me a few seconds to do this. “Time’s up,” she said. “Let’s rassle.” We met in the middle. Winnie quickly hooked a leg around mine and tripped me. I fell but she didn’t follow. I arose quickly and we tussled again. I was once again amazed at her strength. I was strong and had a considerable size advantage, but Winnie was able to match me. It shouldn’t have surprised me, as she had beaten me when she was a skinny little kid, but I was still a victim of my male ego. I couldn’t make any headway, and Winifred was having just as much trouble, which at least made me feel better. I managed to trip her and we fell to the mat with me on top. I seized my advantage and sat with my full weight on her shoulders. I couldn’t control her arms, but it was great to be winning, finally. She bucked suddenly. I didn’t fall off, but fell back a little, and Winnie brought up her legs to my front and used them to smash me back. I was on my back, but she was still on hers and neither of us could make any progress. We both released our holds and stood and I attacked her, going for her legs. I got in on one of her legs, but Winnie was able to keep her balance. She wrapped her arms around my back which was below her and completely lifted me off the ground. She let go and dumped me and I lost control of her leg. Winnie sat down on my head, which was face down. She was positioned towards my legs. Winnie pulled one of my arms up behind my back. It hurt like hell. I thrashed around pretty good, but I couldn’t dislodge Winnie. But she wasn’t going to be able to win that way. In one smooth motion, she got off my head, twisted my arm, and I was forced onto my back. Winifred sat on my shoulders and attempted to pin my arms. It wasn’t easy for her, but as before, she did it better than me. I fought like the devil, and I bucked and almost dislodged her a couple of times. She somehow stayed on top - I’m still not quite sure how - and concentrated on pinning my arms. I don’t know how it was possible that her arms were stronger than mine, but they had always been and still were. I could bench press 240 pounds, at least, but I couldn’t win a test of arm strength with a 17 year old girl. (I wonder what Winifred could bench?) My struggle ended quickly. Once Winnie had shown her (still) greater arm strength, I lost all of my fight. I let her pin me so quickly, that she almost lost control, and I probably could have pitched her over me if I had any fight left. But I didn’t so Winnie sat chilly on my shoulders, smiling at me. “I’m a girl and I’m stronger than a muscular man. That’s pretty funny. You know, when we starting wrestling when I was 12 and I told you I’d always be stronger, I didn’t believe it. I thought you’d get bigger and stronger and you’d eventually win. I mean, look at me.” With that, Winnie rolled off of me and lay opposite of me, posing as if for a magazine. “I know I’m pretty hot, and I’m stronger than I look, but you’re a really muscular guy. How does it feel to lose to me?” “You really want to know?” I asked. “Yeah.” “Well, strangely enough, it doesn’t bother me as much now. You’ve already beaten me before so it’s not that much of a surprise. The first time was tough. You were a skinny girl and I didn’t think you could do it. So that was hard. The second time was the worst.” Winnie interrupted. “Why?” “I guess it was I had worked out to beat you. I was stronger than most of the guys I knew and you were still mostly the skinny girl you were before. Then you won and we took that picture. You wore this dress and looked kind of sexy, but still mostly a little girl. And I looked at that picture and wondered how it was that THAT girl was stronger than me. It was like looking at a graduation picture of junior high schools girls and realizing that at least one of them could beat me up. I really never looked at a girl the same afterwards.” “Since then, I’ve never really considered the possibility of winning. So losing this time was a little easier. And not to mention it since you’re my cousin, but you’re also a babe, and it’s kind of fun to roll around with a gorgeous girl.” Winifred smiled and added, “Strangely enough, I must thank you also.” I was confused. “Why?” “Because beating you has given me lots of confidence in everything I do. When I beat you the first time, I was gawky and unsure of myself. And the second time, I was doing the transition to being a “woman.” So when I won the second time, which interestingly enough was your worst defeat, it helped turn me into the self-confident young woman I am. So, thank you.” I laughed. “You’re welcome. I never thought of my misery as your coming out party. The wrestling debutante.” Winnie laughed hard. “The wrestling debutante. I like that.” “Can I ask you one thing, Winifred?” “Anything. I stammered, “Well, have you ever had occasion to do something to another guy?” “You mean, have I ever beaten up another guy.” I nodded. “Well, not really, there never was any need to. Except for one time a few months ago. I was dating a football player and he got fresh with me. So I grabbed his hand and bent his fingers until he apologized. He got the strangest look on his face, and he avoided me afterwards like the plague. So, if you’re wondering if it just you, it’s not. By the way, although I have never mentioned our stuff to anyone, some of my girlfriends have confided about guys they’ve beaten. Maybe it’s a little more common than we think.” I was somewhat mollified, although I hadn’t really been upset this time. “Well, you came here to see this fine institution, so let me give you the five cent tour.” Winnie replied, “Actually, I came to wrestle you again. That was the main reason I’m here. It’s just so much fun to beat you. But I’ll check out the school anyway.” “Beating me just adds value to the fine education you would get here.” We both laughed.