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When I look back to my first real scissors experience, I find myself going back to my junior year in High School. I had always been an avid wrestling fan, and in my junior year, I finally made the varsity wrestling team. It was an all boy's prep school in Maryland, and the reputation of the wrestling team was unsurpassed by any of the other prep schools at that time. With many sports, making varsity was possible for kids in their 2nd or 3rd years, but at Archbishop Curley, or Curley high as we referred to it, making the varsity team was a major accomplishment. All of the wrestlers hung out together, partied together, and since I was an upperclassmen, we terrorized the freshmen together. Looking back, I'm not sure why we took such delight in scaring the frosh kids, but it was a right of passage; we all went through it, and if you were going to get any respect from your senior classmen, you'd better be able to show that you could "initiate" the new guys with the best of them.

It was the first Thursday in September, and the freshmen were just reporting to collect their schedules and pick up their text books. The junior class was supposed to assist these young men by showing them around, helping them find the various buildings, help locate their lockers, and for those of us in varsity sports, show them where they could stow their gym gear. We had one gym facility where the football, soccer, wrestling and lacrosse teams practiced, and a smaller facility for the spring sports like tennis, golf, and baseball. I was with three other members of the wrestling team, two juniors like myself, and a senior, who was the team captain. We were outside looking for students who were obviously lost. One of our golden rules was to protect the freshmen who would be joining the wrestling team. All of the sports jocks looked out for their own guys......we would handle initiations for those guys later.

As we were standing there, we noticed a young athletic looking kid heading our way with a collection of books and gym clothes. As he got closer he asked if the building we were standing at was Frazier hall. My friend Frank took one look at him and scoffed, "Who wants to know? Not some freshman piece of crap that's gonna stink up our locker room I hope?" The kid looked nervously around and almost whispered, "They said I was supposed to report here for practice." Then Sean, our captain, spoke up, "Are you trying out for the wrestling team?" The kid looked back and said softly, "Uhh, no, I'm on the Lacrosse team." We grinned widely at his point, since the Lacrosse team was won of our rival teams in the locker room, and it was especially nice since they had early practice today on the Lacrosse fields across the campus. There would be no one around to help this unfortunate soul. I joined in at this point, "Well, the lacrosse girls have already started their practice, so it looks like you're fuckin' late; I guess you'll have to try out for the wrestling team." As I looked at the kid, I saw myself three years ago; alone in his gym clothes, uncertain what to do, afraid to run, afraid to say anything to us, and knowing he was going to have to fight his way out of this somehow. He just stood there looking blankly at us for a few seconds. Then he said a little more confidently, "I'm a good wrestler, but a much better lacrosse player. I don't want any trouble, I just wanna get to the locker rooms."

Oh, OK, I said, well there's a rule here in Frazier hall. You can only get a locker if you can beat one of the varsity wrestling guys. So, lucky for you all of us are varsity members. Which one of us do ya wanna take on? The other guys with me started to laugh, which boosted my confidence. I was gaining acceptance on the team as a varsity member and as an upperclassmen. The team captain quipped, "Why don't you wrestle him Kevin, we'll pick up the pieces when you're done?" "Fine by me I replied." You ready punk? I glowered at him and crouched in a typical wrestler's stance. He looked genuinely afraid and almost yelped, "I don't wanna wrestle, I'm not that good at it." To which Frank replied, "I don't think you get it asshole. We don't care if you're good at it or not. We just wanna have some fun with you."

As he turned to look at Frank as he spoke, I lunged at him and executed a perfect double leg take down. He fell flat on his back and I stood back up to see what he would do. He just laid there and kept repeating that he didn't want to wrestle me. As I looked down at him I noticed his lacrosse shoes with the iron spikes. Hey, I said, you can't wrestle in those things. And then I reached down and grabbed his feet and started removing his shoes. I got one of them off, and had the other just about off when he started twisting around to get away. To stabilize him better I stood over his stomach facing his feet and grabbed one leg and pulled up hard. I was about 5'9'' and weighed about 155, mostly muscle, and this kid was all of 5'6'' 140 at the most. But as I pulled his one leg up and held him nearly upside down, I was struck at how thick his calf was in my hands.

Most people think of soccer players as having great legs from all the running they do, but Lacrosse players do nearly as much running, and a lot more sprinting. Anyway, as I struggled with his other shoe, he lifted his other leg up to try and kick me. This really pissed me off, and I grabbed his other leg, lightly kicked him in his stomach, and proceeded to hoist him totally upside down.

So, is that how you like it punk, you like trying to use your legs? I was trying to hoist him even higher, cheered on by my teammates, when he started to slip from my grasp. I'm not sure why, but I tried to catch him as he was slipping, and wrapped my arms around the small of his back to try and haul him back upside down. He started flailing his legs for a second, then without warning he lifted both of his legs up and caught my head between his knees. I thought I would just let go of him and I would be free, but when I let my arms go, I found that he kept his knees around my head and I was supporting his whole weight from my neck. I started to pitch forward, and as I did he started pushing back on his hands; he was just about doing a handstand with me leaning forward and pushing against his knees with my hands. With a quick thrust of his hands and with a momentary parting of his knees, my weight dragged me forward and down, and he managed to wrap his legs around my neck trapped just between his knees and his calves.

I was caught totally off guard, but I thought back to his comment that he was a good wrestler. Had I set myself up for this? But I didn't have too much time to think since he was leaning his weight to one side and with it, I was following. His legs hit the ground with a thud, and my neck felt like it had received a double judo chop from his shin bones around my neck. I was dazed for a second, and thought I felt him letting me go. I started to lift my head up to get my bearings, when I felt a hand on the back of my head. I felt my hair being pulled really hard, I was moving my head involuntarily forward, and then, too late to react, I saw his legs coming together again. I felt my body rolling, and by the time I knew what was going on, I was on my stomach, looking up at the small of his back with his thighs around my neck. He was on his stomach too, and I was caught in a perfect reverse headscissors by a freshmen.

I saw him place his hands under his shoulders, just like in a push-up position, then he forced his back up really high, and I saw stars as his thighs constricted together. I heard faintly from between his thighs that he didn't want to do this, but since I had started it, he was gonna finish it. I could see from the corner of my eye that my classmates were looking on in shock, heard things like, you're gonna take that shit from a freshman? And, come on, get out of that and kick his ass. But as I struggled, I could sense that he had a lot of experience doing this.

He matched my struggles by twisting his legs to counter my efforts to roll, and as I tried to move my head, he kept inching it forward higher between his thighs. I could feel the striation of his inner thigh muscles every time they constricted around my neck and cheeks. I looked up to see, to my horror, that he had the muscles of a senior varsity running back, and those muscles were cinching in tighter with each second that passed. I'm not sure how long I had been on the ground, but at one point he rolled to his side and asked me if I had had enough. I remember spitting out between clenched teeth (and if you've ever been between really muscular thighs you know why you have to talk through clenched teeth) that he could go fuck himself cause I was gonna kill him when I got loose.

With that I thought I saw him briefly smile, a very sarcastic looking smile, and then he said, "I'm not letting up until you scream I submit!" And with that he rolled, very very slowly, back to his stomach, and I naturally had to follow the roll to my stomach, and writhed in agony as the kid did various push up style moves, twists, and shaking motions all the while tightening his thighs more and more.

I remember the feeling that my eyes were going to explode from the pressure, that my face felt like it was on fire, and that I remembered how a young kid smelled since his scent was being mashed into my face with his thighs. I remember hearing my heart beat really loud, and then some cloudy spots starting to form in front of my eyes. I didn't realize that he was cutting off my blood supply, and that in a few seconds I would be fading into darkness.

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