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Jennifer was a frosh at Jefferson College, and so far she liked it a lot. As she walked down toward the gym, she smiled to herself at the California weather. It was nothing like the weather in Alaska. Here it was, the middle of February, and she could walk around in shorts without worrying about freezing to death. Others complained that it was cold and told her she was a nut for wearing shorts. Obviously they didn’t come from Alaska like she did. To her, the crisp chill in the air was more refreshing than it was chilling, and she knew that after running around the track a few times, she would actually be hot.

Jennifer liked to run; it was a good way to keep in shape, and it was a good way to daydream while still being productive. She was a good student and very responsible, and this was her way to escape the constant academic pressures she put upon herself. She could jog around the track a few times, letting her body do the work while her mind wandered onto other things. Others wouldn’t believe her, but running relaxed her. (Her roommate thought she was crazy, but then again, Jenny’s roommate was a plump girl who looked like she had never exercised a day in her life.)

Jenny was wearing a tank top and a loose fitting pair of shorts. Underneath the shorts, she wore a pair of those tight-fitting bike pants, made of the stretchy black material. This was mostly to keep her warm, and to keep her decent. Plus, whenever she ran in panties, they got all drenched in her sweat and basically became too disgusting to wear. Similarly, under her tanktop, Jenny wore a tightfitting elastic top over her breasts. The reason for this was that she hated the feeling of running in the discomfort of a bra, and if she wore nothing, she bounced, and that became painful after awhile.

Jenny was happy with her body, unlike most women, and this happiness gave her a very visible confidence. This confidence almost did more to make her attractive than her actual physical appearance. Jenny had dark hair and tan skin, and a nice smile. When she had first arrived on campus, men had swarmed around her, mostly frat guys checking out the new women, but Jenny had made it through without acquiring any boyfriends. She was not one that had to have a boyfriend; on the whole, she preferred not to, as they took up a lot of time and never seemed to be much worth it. She didn’t need the time-drain. Yes, Jenny would only settle for a boyfriend that she actually loved, and the frat guys soon gave up on her, disgusted, and moved to other prey.

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For as far back as I can remember I have had an interest, you could say an obsession, with beautiful women who were well-built and physically strong. As the years have gone by I guess I have become more “hardcore” in this interest. In fact it is a sexual turn on for me to think about a beautiful woman beating me in physical tests of strength such as arm wrestling and wrestling. I have thought about boxing as well, but I am afraid of black eyes, etc. At any rate, this story is about how I was introduced to a club of women who are all beautiful, well-built and physically strong.

I had been writing to Cat – a real live woman, believe me, for some time when circumstances made it possible for me to travel and spend several days in the area in which she lived. Cat had told me that she loved to wrestle and dominate her ‘victims’ physically before she took them apart sexually and that she had some female friends who did the same thing. I was so excited that I could think of nothing else. I arrived and contacted Cat to tell her the hotel where I was staying. She said, ” I’m so glad you are here. I have told the other girls about you and they can’t wait to see us wrestle. It’s really amazing, but I don’t remember ever being as strong as I am now. You get unpacked and settled in and then a few of us will come over to your room and we’ll have a little warm up contest to see who pays for dinner tonight. I hope you brought enough cash ’cause there will be five of us going out for a big steak dinner on you.” I hung the phone up and got all my things unpacked. It wasn’t long before I heard a knock on the door and I could feel the excitement as I opened the door.

Standing there were four big, beautiful women. I knew at this point that I would be no match for any of them. They were all dressed in tight sweaters, short skirts and high heels. It seemed to me that their legs were a mile long. They greeted me with big smiles and as each one shook my hand and introduced themselves they each gave my hand a sample of their strength. Cat said, ” We are starving so we’ll make this quick. Come over here and kneel down in front of me and let me give you a sample of my scissors hold. We could wrestle and the result would be the same; this way we don’t get all messed up before dinner. If you can last for 30 seconds without submitting then we’ll buy you dinner. ” I knelt down and Cat almost gently placed my head between her long legs. My throat was resting on her crotch and I was looking up into her smiling face. The girls counted to three and then Cat winked and squeezed.

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After the Gulf War the Corps had no place to put me. I made the error of accepting a promotion to Major in July, I figured this war was going to happen, I might as well be in charge. I should have stayed at the comfortable rank of Captain, but I guess I wanted to be a big shot. The war was over, I was sitting around waiting for the next thing to do. Col. McBride called me in and told me that I had been RIF’d (Reduction In Force) I was out of a job. 18 1/2 years in the U.S. Marine Corps down the fucking drain.

After some soul searching I decided it was time to go back to school and work on my Doctorate. I fucking hate school, but I hate hanging around looking for something to do, even more. So, I ended up in Texas. Big fucking deal. Uncle Sam has to pay the freight so who cares. I end up living in an apartment complex full of snot-nosed mama’s boy types. I had never seen such a bunch of weird fuckers in my life. 12 weeks on the Island and I could make men out of these little homo bastards…or I’d end up killing them. After all, that’s what Marines do, they kill, and they die. It’s a great job. But this Marine is going to be smart now, he’s gonna be a P H fucking D.

I buckled down and went to work. I had a mission, I had a goal, I had no choice but to finish, and finish I will, in true Marine Corps fashion. Things got better, I was not so repulsed by the assholes who walked around wearing sweatshits that say B.U.M. Equipment and wearing their fucking hats backwards. What the fuck exactly is B.U.M. equipment? Is that some shit that the fudge-packers use? And if you can’t wear your cover squared away, get rid of the fucker, and get a fucking haircut too!

Let me tell you a little more about Major Warren Mansfield. I was born to be a Marine. I spent my lifetime getting to where I am today. I worked hard, I played every sport there was, and I fought every asshole in my school just so I could learn to live with pain. I went to college and got my degree, then off to the University of Science Music and Culture (U.S.M.C.) 12 weeks at Parris Island, the best, most memorable days of my life. I was hit, I was kicked, I was slapped, punched and pissed on. I ate constantino wire and pissed napalm. I learned to do what I was bred to do. I learned how to be a killing machine. One year later I lead my troops into a small village in Viet Nam, and I got to see first hand what a blown-up skull looks like. Sure I was a young Lieutenant, but I felt like a seasoned war dog by the time we secured that little piece of commie heaven.

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Once again Jim found himself climbing the stairs to Carol’s 27th Street apartment. Several weeks ago he had attempted to wrestle Carol, but only ended up submitting to painful holds – the dreaded Boston crab, a combination body scissors/headlock where Carol completely shut down his breathing, and a deadly sleeper that sent him temporarily to dreamland. Despite his poor performance in Carol’s clutches, Jim was thrilled with the experience in retrospect. His life-long fantasy of being physically dominated and tortured by a beautiful woman had certainly been realized in spades. Jim had made a return appointment with Carol on the spot, and today he was keeping that date.

The beautiful Carol greeted Jim warmly and ushered him into the apartment, which was equipped with wrestling mats as before. This time the six-foot blonde was dressed in a shiny spandex “catsuit,” which left little concerning her anatomy to the imagination. She was so luscious that Jim’s palms seemed to itch in his eagerness to get his hands on her.

“You like?” she cooed, turning and showing off her body. “I just got this little number last week. It’s great for wrestling – guys get so involved in looking at me that they forget what we’re doing. Makes it real easy to trap ’em!”

Jim gulped, imagining how he would soon be trapped that way!

“You know, Jim,” added Carol, “you really didn’t do very well against me last time. Were you really trying?”

“I sure was! You’re just a damned good wrestler. Anyway, what excites me the most is being forced to submit to your holds. I’m not really into defeating a woman – I enjoy being dominated.”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place! Like I think I told you last time, I really get off on using my body to make a man beg for mercy! Tell you what – I’ll stress really punishing you today. How’s that?”

“Sounds great! Just don’t kill me!”

“What? And lose a good customer – No way! What I will do, though, is pour on the pressure until you say the magic word. Let’s use ‘mercy’ as a safe word. Don’t forget it!”

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I flew into LAX and when I came through the gate I saw Brittany standing there. She was even more beautiful than her pictures had allowed me to believe. I approached her and the closer I got to her the more intimidating she became. I watched her face light up in a smile that I interpreted as one which said, ‘this is going to be easier than I thought to break this one into little pieces.’ We hugged and I thought she was going to break my ribs or knock me out right there in the airport; but, she eased up and whispered in my ear, “that was just a little sample of my arm strength. I’m going to destroy you with them and then break you in half with my long, strong legs. You belong to my muscles.” I could only smile and respond as any male would when that close to a beautiful, powerful woman.

We walked down to get my baggage and Brittany made sure that she walked in front of me so I could watch the flex of those gorgeous legs of hers. We talked while waiting for my bags and she would verbally tease me every chance she got. My bags finally came out and I pulled them off of the conveyor belt. They were heavy and I suggested we find a porter to take them out for us. Brittany said, “don’t be silly, I’m stronger than any of them ever thought of being. I’ll carry the bag you think is so heavy; do you think you can manage the camera?” And she picked up my bag as if it were empty and off we went. When we had the bags loaded into the car she took my hand and placed it on her arm then she flexed. The muscle exploded and my hand could not fit around it. Brittany said, “this is what a real arm feels like and you are going to be feeling it a lot around your scrawny little neck and weak body as I crush you into unconsciousness.”

We arrived at my hotel, checked in and the bell man took us to the room. I had gotten a suite as Brittany had instructed me to. After the bell man had been tipped and he left Brittany walked over to me; wearing her 4″ heels she stood about 6’2″. I looked up into her smiling face as she raised her right arm and flexed her muscle in my face. She then grabbed a handful of hair and wrapped her arm around my neck in a headlock. “Put your hand on my arm and feel how hard my female muscle gets as I knock you out.” I touched her arm and the next thing I knew was Brittany straddling my body as I lay on the floor. When she saw me open my eyes she laughed and said, “You only lasted 3 seconds but I won’t put you out so fast from now on. I want you to squirm and cry and beg some. Now sit up and put your neck between my thighs. You may feel them as I crush you out again.”

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