The Iron Maidens Wrestling Club -- Episode II
by AmazonFan and Roger Downs
Another Iron Maidens epic, written with Roger Downs


     Mitch Ellis slumped into his chair and exhaled.
It had been a long day.

     As the end of the second fiscal quarter wound to a
close, the hours had grown longer and his
responsibilities had become legion.  He'd had to track
the mature bonds.  He'd had to oversee the conversion
of the schedule "D" tax forms to the new federal
standard--and coordinate the changes with at least
three data processors.  He'd had to format at least
three different reports to exacting details, in
accordance with the shareholders' least logical
demands.  And of course, the second the "requests" had
landed on his desk, they'd been due a week ago.

     But, after working through lunch and dinner and
four weekends, it was done.  Finished.  Everything
perfect to the smallest aspect.  All that remained was
to print a final copy for his boss.

     As he sent the document to his laser printer, his
thoughts wandered to consider his boss, Alyssa Jordan,
known affectionately by her employees as "the
terminator".  She was tall, statuesque, with the kind
of looks and body that tempted anyone she met to think
she'd slept her way to success.  It only took a few
seconds for her intensity and intelligence to allay
that notion.  As she stalked between the desks in the
office, her green eyes blazing and her abundant red
hair rustling, she was afforded the respect she
demanded.  And, he decided, deserved.  Love her or hate
her, she was perfect for the job she performed.  She
had an uncanny knack for balancing fear and reward to
breed the loyalty most managers could only hope for.

     He took the report from the printer tray and
tapped it on his desk to straighten it.  Great, he
thought as he put it beside his monitor.  All I've
gotta do is slide this onto her desk and get home
without falling asleep behind the wheel.  His wall
clock told him it was 3:34 AM.  The dilemma was clear.
He'd have to be at work in a few more hours anyway, and
the commute would steal half an hour of sleep both
ways.  And he wasn't just hungry; he was famished
enough to eat a bumper hitch.

     The monitor flickered and his screen saver kicked
in.  A well-muscled, large-breasted woman held some
hapless man in a body scissors, her sinews standing out
and shining with sweat as she bore down.  He wasn't too
tired to become aroused; the sight of a strong, ideally-
proportioned amazon dominating a man was always a turn-
on, and had been since his youth.  Sure, he found
Playmates and centerfolds arousing, but the scenario of
being overwhelmed, controlled, and taken carnally
carried with it a special thrill that never failed to
charge him.

     He watched as the image faded and new ones paraded
by, his eyes growing heavier as he indulged in this
secret pleasure.  As he closed his eyes completely, his
thoughts turned to fantasies of being wrapped up,
helpless, totally at the whim of a powerful virago....

     "Mitch?"

     His eyes fluttered open, and for some reason his
body was heavy with fatigue.  Where was he?  Oh yeah,
work.  What was he doing?  Reports or something.  Mitch
inhaled and sat straighter in his high-backed chair,
the leather crinkling as he shifted.  Reports, that's
right.  The quarterly--

     "Hello?  Mitch?"

     Standing beside him was Alyssa, holding the report
he'd printed against her.  Oh, hell, he thought.  I
must've fallen asleep.  I've gotta look like shit....

     And then he noticed his screen saver, displaying
an exquisitely photographed shot of a powerful
brunette, astride a man's back, pulling back savagely
on his head under his jaw.  She was muscular, topless,
and buxom.  Under any other circumstance, he'd have an
erection straining the limits of his slacks.

     A mental picture of a burning zeppelin formed in
his mind, across the side of which was written, "My
career".

     "Um," he said, his throat and mouth still dry.
"Y'know, I've been reading about this 'mixed wrestling'
virus that takes over screen savers and--"

     "Save it," she said, watching the image shift on
his monitor.  "Is this the final report?"

     "Yeah, it is," he said.  "Exactly like you wanted
it."

     She said nothing, staring at the next scene of
wrestling brutality.  "I need to see you in my office,"
she said finally.  "Get your ass in there."

     He nodded, and she turned on her heel and stalked
out.

     Well, he thought as he looked around his office.
I wonder if I should pack first.  Ah, I'd better not
keep her waiting, they might give me a better
separation check....

     Mitch stood, shut off his screen, and went to face
the music.


     "These are impressive," said Alyssa from behind
her broad oak desk.  She thumbed through a few pages,
stopped to read something, then closed the report
again.  "I didn't think you'd be able to format all
that readably, but you did an outstanding job."

     "Thank you," he said, his hands clasped in his
lap.  He paused to admire her workspace:  wood-panel
walls, brass-and-crystal fixtures, framed prints of
Impressionist works...he decided that he was about to
be sacked by a woman with an impressive sense of
decorum.

     "You've been working hard lately," she said.
"Don't think I don't appreciate that."

     Uh-oh, he thought.  Here it comes.  "Thank you."

     "In fact, I was going to put you in for a pretty
hefty bonus."

     He swallowed.  Hard.  He'd let his libido cost him
both his job AND some extra cash.  "Really."

     "Mmm-hm.  But I've decided against it."

     "Oh."  Get on with it! he thought, squirming in
his chair.  I can be packed and out of here by nine.  I
can have a gun in my mouth by ten-thirty....

     "Yeah.  And seeing you in your office this morning
clenched it."  She smiled, and he could sense her
cocking the hammer.  "Instead, I'm giving you a raise.
Twenty percent."

     His body tingled with shock.  A RAISE?  After
seeing his screen saver?  After learning about his
perversion?  He opened his mouth, but couldn't figure
out quite what to say.

     "What's the matter, Mitch?"  She winked.  "Amazon
got your tongue?"

     "Uh," he said, figuring it was better to get
something unintelligible out than nothing at all.  "I,
uh, well...wasn't exactly expecting this.  I mean...you
saw--"

     "Never mind what I saw.  You're too damned good at
what you do for me to worry about stupid shit like
that."  She stood, and walked around to the other side
of the desk.  "Now go take the rest of the day off.
Get some breakfast and some sleep.  It's Friday, so
you'll have a three-day weekend."

     Mitch stood, his legs unsteady for a second,
smiling slightly.  "Uh...thank you, Miss Jordan.  I
mean--"

     "Save it," she said.  Alyssa turned toward her
desk, took a card from a holder and scribbled something
on the back.  Re-facing him, she said, "I forgot to
mention.  There's a stipulation attached to the raise.
Take this."

     He took the card.  It read:

                    The Iron Maidens Gym
                       618 Nelson St.
                     Gulf Bay, FL  33932
                       (555) 855-2991
                "Pumping iron to make steel"

     He looked at her with his eyebrows raised.  "I
don't--"

     "You work out, don't you?"

     "Yeah," he said.  "Mostly running, though.  Some
weights."

     "Great.  Wear something comfortable."  She patted
his cheek, and said, "Tomorrow at 2:00.  Don't be
late."

     As he turned to leave, he saw something predatory
in her eyes.  I don't know about this, as he angled
toward his office.  I'm beginning to think she should
have just fired me....


     Wow, thought Mitch as he stepped from his Jeep.
Very nice.

     The Iron Maidens Gym was a bit off the beaten path-
-in a wooded suburb a couple of miles from the Gulf--
and the only building in the immediate area.  The
parking lot was packed with trendy, expensive
sports cars and sedans.  One-way glass ran along the
front of the building, obscuring the interior.  The gym
logo ran across the front, in huge, chrome-painted
letters.

     He had just reached the entrance when he noticed
Alyssa's Corvette parked on the front row.  Shit, he
thought, and checked his watch.  I know I'm not late--

     "Mitch."  Alyssa poked through the entrance.  "Get
in here."

     He walked across the threshold--

     --and into paradise.

     The gym was a broad, open-air conglomeration of
the finest bodybuilding machinery known to man.
Weights, resistance machines, and sophisticated aerobic
exercisers were strategically interspersed, each
grouped by similarity of function and purpose.  But
then he noticed the real beauty of the club.

     The WOMEN.

     Every female in sight was like something out of
his wildest fantasies:  powerful, beautiful, buxom, all
clad in the scantiest of gymwear.  He watched in awe as
the girls pushed, pumped, strained, and sweated their
way to bodily glory, defeating the weights they held
for rep after rep.

     "Hey!  Mitch!  Remember me?"

     He turned--

     Why hadn't he noticed THIS before?

     Alyssa was, to put it mildly, perfect.  He'd
always been conscious of her beauty--and her chest size-
-but she'd done a remarkable job of dressing down her
musculature, wearing loose blouses and long skirts.
But now, before him, wearing a black pelvic thong and a
matching half-tank--two sizes too small, he noticed,
and struggling to contain what must have been a D-cup
bosom--he fell hopelessly in love.  He'd been so
intimidated by her office demeanor that he'd never
pictured her as the glorious vision standing before
him.  The sheen of sweat on her skin highlighted her
physique, reflecting the overhead lights.

     "Come on, Mitch," she said, and took a step toward
him.  "You're gonna catch flies like that."

     "Uh.  Oh."  He forced his mouth closed.  "Sorry."

     Alyssa did a pirouette before him, turning slowly,
giving him an ample view of all her assets.  Her rear
was every bit as well-developed and inviting as her
front.  "I take it you like what you see."

     "Yeah," he said, nodding, still numb.  "Yeah.
Yeah."

     "Great."  She put her hands on hips, and said, "I
was just finishing up my workout.  Come spot me."

     She led him through the gym toward the chest
stations.  The women he passed gave him wry, knowing
smiles, acting as if they were in on a secret.  He
nodded back, trying to remain cool, but knowing he was
giving away his apprehension.

     Alyssa eased onto a bench press.  The bar was
loaded with several steel plates.  Offhand, it appeared
to be well over 400 pounds, but he knew he was
underestimating.

     "Pay attention," she barked.  "If this thing falls
on me, I'm taking it out on you."

     He stepped closer, positioning himself behind her
head as she exhaled and pushed the bar off the rack.
It hung over her chest a moment, the bar bowing from
the incredible weight, and then she lowered it to her
chest.  The sinews in her arms and upper body rippled
as she controlled the massive poundage.

     With a cry, she drove it off her, the bar rising
with seemingly no effort.  He blinked in disbelief:  he
would NEVER have imagined her as being so powerful.
Transfixed, he stood by as she pressed it again, then
again, until eight reps had passed.  On the ninth, she
struggled to lock it out, and on the tenth, he moved
his hands under the bar to assist her.  As if insulted
by the notion of needing help, she finished the rep
unaided, then dropped the bar back on the rack.

     "YES!"  She hopped off the bench, then turned to
face him, smiling broadly.  "TEN reps!  Guess it's time
to move up."

     "Miss Jordan--"

     "Hey," she said, wiping her face down with a
towel.  "We aren't in the office now.  It's Alyssa.
Remember that."

     "Okay."

     She held up her arms and struck a double-biceps
pose.  "Take a guess."

     "Um...at what?"

     "My arm size, you dope.  How big?"

     Alyssa was his height almost exactly--five ten--
and he'd once gauged his biceps at fourteen inches.
Hers looked bigger, much bigger.  "Uh, I don't know.
Sixteen inches?"

     "Try seventeen," she said.  "And for the record,
I'm 51DD-24-39."  Alyssa changed her pose to show off
her triceps.  "I got the impression you like muscles on
a girl.  Was I right?"

     Mitch resisted the urge to drop to his knees and
begin chanting, "I'm not worthy!  I'm not worthy!", but
managed to contain himself.  "Well, it's certainly
attractive, yes."

     Her smile told him that she was having none of it.
"No, Mitchie, I think it's a little more than that,"
she said, and snaked her arm in his.  The sensation of
her powerful arm mingling with his, and her hand
clasping his, was enough to produce another high.
Walking away from the pit, she said, "Your kind is so
funny.  You aren't the first guy I've brought here, for
exactly the same reason.  You never want to come right
out and admit that the women here are the most
fantastic you've ever seen, and that you're awed by
us."

     He nodded, and said, "Well...okay.  Let me be the
first.  You're all amazing."

     "I knew that, stupid, or I'd never have brought
you here."

     "I'm grateful," he said, as they stopped at a
water fountain.  "But yesterday, you said something
about a stipulation being attached to my raise.  Could
you--"

     "Well, I should clarify that," she said, and
gulped down some water.  She wiped her forearm across
her lips, and said, "There really isn't a
'stipulation', per se.  You've got the raise.
Effective next paycheck."

     "Okay...then--"

     "But, I have certain...expectations now.  I'd been
thinking about doing this before, before after Friday's
events, I knew you'd be perfect."

     "Perfect?  For what?"

     She took the front of his tank top, and pulled him
toward her.  Closer, closer, until her lips were
brushing his.  "You see that door behind us there?"

     He wanted to kiss her.  Badly.  Her full, red lips
were so inviting, and she was so beautiful....  "Mmmm-
hm," he murmured.

     "Go inside, and wait for me.  Take off your tank
and shoes.  Just leave on your shorts."  She backed
away, and smiled.  "I'll be there in a little bit."

     He swallowed another lump, and forced his body to
calm down.  "Uh...okay."


     Once through the door, he peeled off his tank.  He
found himself in a dim hallway, which led to a wider
room about twenty feet ahead.  Mitch walked to it--

     --and found he wasn't alone.  Three other men
stood in the room before him, also clad in shorts.
They were standing in a group and talking idly.

     "Hey!"  One of them motioned him over.  "C'mere!
Make yourself at home."

     Mitch joined them in a wide, open room, probably
fifty feet per side, with blue mats spread across the
floor.  The walls to either side were lined with tall
mirrors.

     "Hi," said the man who'd first spoken to him.
"I'm Jim."  Jim was early forties, a couple of inches
taller and about thirty pounds lighter.  "This is Bob."
Bob looked to be mid to late twenties, and stood
around five-six.  His body was slender and fairly
toned.  "And here's another newbie, Jack."  Jack was by
far the biggest man present.  He stood at least six-
two, and must have weighed two-thirty.  He had a square
jaw, with the dark shadow of a day's growth around his
face.  His broad shoulders and deep chest shifted in
the lights as he moved to shake Mitch's hand.

     "I'm Mitch Ellis," said Mitch.  Looking to Jim, he
asked, "So, you used the word 'newbie'.  What did you--
"

     "Good afternoon, guys," came a voice from the
other end of the room.  They turned to see four women
filing in, Alyssa among them, all clad in revealing,
sweat-soaked thongs and half-tops.  Mitch decided that
they may as well have been wearing bikinis or
underwear.  Given all he'd seen, Mitch wondered if he'd
been away from the gym for too long.  They walked over
to the men, Alyssa leading the way.  "Okay, gentlemen,"
she said, putting her hands on her hips, "two of you
know perfectly why you're here, and two of you are
probably lost.  That's about to change.  But first, I'd
like you to meet your opposition."

     Opposition?  Mitch thought.

     "This is Mary," she said, and a similarly buxom
brunette nodded.  She focused her gaze on Jim, and
said, "Hi, lover.  I missed you."

     "Beside her is Carrie."

     Carrie smiled and blew them a kiss.  She weighed a
little bit less--and a trifle less chesty--than Mary, but
he measured her at at least a "C".  All the girls
easily fell into the "beautiful" category, but Carrie
had the classic bombshell look, with her flowing blonde
hair and big blue eyes.

     "And this is Sandra."

     Sandra was a petite powerhouse, easily the
shortest, thickest girl present.  Her close-cut brown
hair, high cheeks, and upturned nose gave her a girl-
next-door-ish flavor, and her full, firm breasts sat
proudly atop a shelf of muscle.  She bounced on her
toes and smiled, betraying her eagerness.

     "And of course, I'm Alyssa," she said to Jack.
The others seemed to know her.

     "Uh--" I started.

     "Shut up," snapped Alyssa.  "In here, you don't
speak unless spoken to.  Understood?"

     Her demeanor was definitely less accommodating
suddenly, Mitch decided.  He nodded and clamed up.

     "Welcome to another session in the Iron Maidens
Wrestling Club," she said.  "We all got our workouts in
early so we could cool down against you pathetic
losers.  For your information, the doors are now
locked, and the only way out is through us.  We were
going to inspect you before beginning, but our newest
member, Sandra--"  She nodded at the girl.  "--can't
WAIT to get her hands on you boys.  So just move to
your side of the room and let's get started."

     The men with Mitch started toward their side.  He
noticed Jack's smirk of confidence as they turned away,
and wondered, despite the fact that he was a man, if he
really had the advantage he thought he'd have.  The
girls looked serious, and on attitude alone they had
the edge.

     As they moved into place, Mitch gathered his own
feelings about the encounter.  It was all happening so
fast.  He loved beautiful, buxom, muscular women, loved
watching them wrestle and dominate struggling men.  But
spectating was one thing, participating something else
totally.  Would he enjoy this?  Would he try to get
away?  He had no idea.  He was helpless to do anything
but comply.

     Sandra bounced onto the mat, facing them, and
pointed at Jack.  His smirk grew wider as he squared
his shoulders and padded out to her.  The size
difference was striking:  Sandra was giving away at
least nine inches and probably sixty pounds to the
brute.  Most of the encounters he had seen on tape and
in pictures involved women of similar size or larger
than their opponents, never smaller.  The poor girl
would be squashed!

     Jack put his hands on his hips, and Sandra
crouched down slightly, shifting her weight from side
to side, her eyes wide as she looked him over.  He made
a lunge for her--

     Sandra sidestepped and kicked the back of his
knee.  Jack fell to all fours, and that was the opening
she needed.  She dove onto his back and locked her
incredible arms and legs around him, then rolled him
over, with him lying against her.  A full nelson
followed, and she began applying excruciating pressure
with her arms and legs.  Jack's well-muscled torso
began to stretch as she slowly pulled him in different
directions.

     Desperate, Jack flexed and pulled his arms, trying
to break her nelson, but couldn't budge her.  He
flailed over to his side, then got to his stomach, with
her still riding him.  Jack pushed himself to crawl,
only to have Sandra unlock her legs, slide back, and
pull him down atop her again.

     Mitch's chest constricted at the sight of this
beautiful, spunky girl dominating this huge man.  Pound-
for-pound, she was clearly stronger, and she was
offsetting his mass and height advantage by bringing
the match to the mat.  Jack was simply not going to
break free without her allowing him to.

     "C'mon, big boy," she growled in his ear, and
jolted him with her thighs.  "Give it up.  Or I'll make
a wish."

     Jack was gasping in pain as she applied
unrelenting pressure.  Finally, red-faced, he nodded
quickly.  "Yeah, yeah, I give--"

     "Not good enough."  Sandra bent his neck forward,
and his teeth clamped together in pain.  "Say 'I submit
totally.  You win.'"

     Jack didn't waste a second.  "I--I submit totally,
you win!  You win, all right?"

     Sandra unclasped her hands, and shoved him rolling
away.  She stood and faced the men, then moved through
a range of poses while Jack collected himself.  Mitch
was amazed.  Sandra was incredible, as were all the
women.  She'd made short work of Jack, the biggest of
her opposition.  He could only guess how the rest of
the men would fare.

     But she wasn't finished with Jack.  She walked
over to him, and pulled him up by the hair.

     Jack ducked in and cinched in a bearhug, lifting
her off her feet and crushing her tightly to him.  He
bore down, trying to pressure the rippling muscles of
her midsection and back.  Sandra appeared more annoyed
than worried as she wedged her hands inside his arms
and pushed.  His arms separated as she forced hers
inside, then began to expand them.  He struggled to
keep his hands clasped as Sandra methodically opened
his embrace, the strain evident on her face as she
fought against his leverage.  With a cry she broke his
grip, dropped to her feet, then drove her forehead into
his solar plexus.  The air left him with a whoosh!, and
she grabbed him around the waist into a hug of her own.
Sandra spun on her feet and whipped him around, then
slammed him back to the mats, landing atop him.  He lay
there before her, pounding his feet up and down and
clutching his midsection, as she stood over him and
flexed.

     "That was stupid," she said, and stomped his
belly.  He doubled up to prevent a second blow.  "And
now you're going to suffer."

     She lowered into a splits position over his
stomach, then leaned forward and trapped his wrists
behind his head.  She brought her legs together, then
slowly, menacingly, began raising her hips above him,
directly above his abdomen.

     "Oh, no," he gasped, and struggled to free
himself.  "God, no--"

     Her first pelvic thrust hit him like an anvil,
ramming him into the mat, and he shouted in pain.
Smiling cruelly, she raised her hips again, then said,
"Get ready for the piston."

     Sandra hit him with another shot, then another,
until she became a shiny, furious, glute-bashing
machine, each blow accompanied by the staccato slap of
flesh on flesh as she pounded her hip muscles into his
unprotected stomach and abdomen.  Jack was having
trouble inhaling as she kept up the pressure, applying
all of her potent power to the strikes.  Mitch counted
a hundred in less than thirty seconds before losing
count.

     She paused to revel in his pained expression, as
he coughed and choked in sweet lungfuls of air.  "N-no
more," he croaked.  "I can't take any more...."

     "Oh, nonsense," she said, and began raising her
hips once more, even higher than before.  "You're a
big, strong man, you can take it."

     The next succession of slams came slower and more
powerfully, as she carefully rose to her absolute apex,
then came crashing back down.  Mitch realized that his
erection was probably a dead giveaway now, but a glance
to his fellows showed them to be both nervous and
aroused as well.

     Jack was almost totally out of it, his breathing
ragged.  She sat astride his badly bruised body,
bearing her weight down on his abdomen, then rolled to
the side.  Her thick legs encircled him, and she flexed
casually, making him gasp and thrash some more.  She
cycled the intensity of the pressure, giving him a mild
respite and then crushing back down.  Mitch wasn't
entirely certain she couldn't pinch him in two if she'd
so chosen.

     Mitch chanced a glance at Alyssa, who was smiling
and talking softly with the other Maidens.  They were
nodding approvingly at the girl, whom he guessed was
debuting her skills for everyone today. In a dazzling
display of strength, Sandra positioned him carefully,
then pushed him over her head, her thick shoulders,
arms, and legs easily holding his weight as she turned
a slow circle for everyone.

     The slam that followed made everyone wince.  Mats
or not, Jack came down at mach three and lay before
her, groaning and clutching his back.  Sandra stood
over him, struck a few poses, then slid astride him
once more.

     "Okay, Jack," she whispered as her legs coiled
around his midsection.  "Time for beddy-bye."  Her arms
encircled his head, and at once he was trapped in her
cleavage, her arms securing him against her as her
breasts closed off his breathing.  He spasmed, jerked,
groaned, and squealed as she held firm, smiling.  Mitch
watched in shock as Sandra finished off Jack, his
movement slowly fading, his arms and legs waving less
and less, until they finally lay still on the mats.

     "Take a break, Sandra," said Mary, motioning for
her to come over to them.  "Let us have some fun.
We'll tag you back in, I promise."

     The petite powerhouse looked down at Jack a few
moments more, then unlocked him.  She kissed him
tenderly on his lips and pushed herself off his
prostrate body.  Walking over to her teammates, she
said, "Okay, but make sure I get back in.  He's mine
when we're done."

     When Jack came to, he just sat there, shaking his head,
trying to clear the cobwebs.  He could only manage a crawl
back to the guys' side of the mats.  He rolled his head in
circles, still suffering from the shock of having been so
easily disposed of by a woman.

     "A very impressive debut," Mary applauded as Sandra
strutted over to receive congratulatory high fives from the
other Iron Maidens.  "I suppose we could just sit here and
watch her rip you others apart, but we want Jack and Mitch
to get to a feeling for the club as a whole.  Our rules are
that the winner gets the honors of picking who the next
opponents will be.  But first let me fill our newcomers in
on who they're up against today.  You've already seen
Sandra.  5'5", 167 pounds.  17" arms.  And since you men
can't seem to appreciate a woman's body without knowing her
statistics, she's  46C-21-35.  Carrie is 5'7" and weighs a
solid 158 pounds.  Her arms measure 16+ inches and her
vitals are 44C-23-36.  I'm about five pounds heavier than
Carrie and the same height.  16 and a half inch arms.  44DD-
21-38.  And there's Mitch's boss Alyssa.  5'10", 190.  17"
arms and a hard as steel 51DD-24-39.  The best bodies.
Strength beyond your imagination.  Endurance bred from hours
and hours in the gym.  And more sex appeal than a year's
worth of centerfolds.  That's us Iron Maidens, boys.  And
what we like to do is crush men into complete submission.
And then, if we're in the mood, we really have fun."

     "OK Sandra, who'll it be?  We going to throw Mitch into
the fray or are we going to make him watch a little more?"
Alyssa asked.

     "Carrie and Bob." Sandra replied.  "I want to see a
couple of the regulars square off myself."

     Carrie tied her flowing blond hair up and gracefully
moved to the middle of the mats.  "Come on, sweetie." she
said.  "Get out here so I can kick your cute little butt."
Bob obliged by walking his 5'6", 132 body out to the middle.
Mitch was amazed at the difference in their bodies.  Carrie
was so much more intimidatingly muscular.  Her thick thighs
and arms dwarfed his.  Bob looked so puny compared to her --
and she was the lightest weight Iron Maiden there!

     Bob started backpedaling but Carrie was relentless,
moving forward and cutting off his angles.  She steered him
over to the Iron Maidens side.  Mary shoved him forward,
right into Carrie's bearhug.  She grabbed him around the
ribcage and lifted him off the mats.

     "AAAGGHHH!" he groaned as Carrie cinched the hold on
tight.  Her sizable upper arms swelled further as she
applied enormous pressure.  "No. Not my ribs.  Please no,
that hurts a lot.  I haven't recovered from the last time.
Please stop.  Please!!"

     Mitch himself could practically feel Bob's pain and was
astonished that Bob was in so much trouble so quickly.
Carrie had him completely out muscled and outclassed.  And
yet Mitch sensed she wasn't coming close to applying her
full potential.  He glanced nervously at Alyssa and saw that
she was watching his reactions to the match.

     Bob was growing weaker in Carrie's arms, softly moaning
"No.  No."

     "We shouldn't have bothered having you here this time,"
Carrie chided.  "You're wimpy enough when you're healthy,
Bob.  When you're like this, still recovering, you're no fun
at all."

     "I'm sorry.  I thought you'd be mad if I didn't come
and try." he responded.

     "You're probably right.  I might have gone over to your
apartment and done a lot more damage to this rag doll body
of yours."

     "Please don't hurt my ribs anymore," Bob implored.

     Carrie tossed Bob aside and he went sprawling to the
mats, holding his aching sides.  She stood over him
straddling his head.  She stooped down and cupped her hands
under his head, lifting him up as she stood back up.  She
pressed his face hard against her crotch and clamped her
thighs around this head.  The muscular contours of her legs
exploded into colossal definition as she worked over Bob.
His shrieks were all but muffled, however, by Carrie's
smothering crotch.  His head twitched and twisted,
involuntarily providing Carrie with some welcome
stimulation.

     "Oooh yeah," she purred, closing her eyes and reveling
in the sensations.

     "Just be careful you don't get carried away and snap
his neck," Mary cautioned.

     Carrie suddenly parted her thighs wide and Bob's head
fell to the mats like a stone.

     Carrie placed one foot squarely on his chest and struck
a double biceps victory pose.  "Do you give, little wimp?"
she asked.

     "Yes. Yes.  I give!" he pleaded.

     "Well you can thank Mary for saving your neck," she
said.  "But don't think you're off the hook just yet.  If
you're no good for my wrestling workout then you'll just
have to make it up to me other ways.  Won't you, Bob?"

     Carrie had turned her back to the other men so only Bob
could see her pulling the front of her thong down, making
her intentions perfectly clear.  She repeated her question
for emphasis, "Won't you, Bob!"

     "Yes, Carrie." he whispered hoarsely.

     "Yes, Mistress Carrie!" she yelled.

     "Yes, Mistress Carrie." he echoed meekly.

     "Get up you wimp," she ordered.  "I want them all to
see what a nothing you are."

     No sooner had Bob pulled himself to his feet when
Carrie grabbed his shorts and literally tore them right off
his body, throwing the scraps of cloth to the side.  Bob
cowered in fear, clad only in his jock strap.

     "It's okay to like, strip them?" Sandra asked.

     "You can do anything you want," Carrie answered.

     "I wasn't sure."  Sandra continued.  "If I'd known I
could have had even more fun with Jack."

     "The reality is, they aren't physically able to stop
you." Alyssa commented.  "You felt how much stronger you
are.  He couldn't have prevented you from doing anything you
felt like.  Neither can any of the others."

     "Wow.  Talk about women's liberation!" Sandra
exclaimed.

     Meanwhile Carrie was moving in on Bob again.

     "Wait!" he yelped.  "I gave up.  The fall's over.
Isn't it somebody else's turn?"

     "Bob, you know the rules.  I can make you continue if I
want." Carrie said.  "Of course, I could always tag
Alyssa..."

     "Please no.  She's too big for me."

     "We're all too big for you, Bob." Carrie corrected.

     Carrie slapped on a side headlock, mashing Bob's face
between her breast and her ballooning arm muscles.  She
ground his head in circles as she paraded him around the
perimeter of the mats.  She stopped in front of the Maidens
and flipped him over her hip flat onto the mats.  Before he
could react she stepped between his legs and put one foot
right on his crotch.

     "I wouldn't move too quickly if I were you, " she
warned.  "Cause if you do and I lose my balance and I shift
my weight to this foot...well your balls might get
crunched."  Bob didn't move a muscle.  Carrie began rubbing
the front of Bob's jock with her toes.  Carrie looked over
at Sandra.  "Just to show you we can do anything and they
can't stop us, watch."

     Carrie sensuously ran her left hand up her right arm,
beginning at the wrist, squeezing and caressing the dense,
well toned muscle.  Her hand circled under to her triceps as
she crooked her elbow and flexed her meaty biceps.  The
abundant ball of muscle grew hard at her command.

     "Look how big it is Bob.  How hard.  This is how I
could crush your puny little frame into complete submission
in just seconds." she pronounced.  "And this is just one of
my many weapons Bob.  That's why you're afraid of me.
That's why you're in awe of my body.  That's why you get
very aroused whenever you daydream about me.  Don't you
Bob?"

     "Yes.  Yes Mistress Carrie."

     "And you like to masturbate at home, fantasizing about
my incredible body."

     "Yes.  Mistress Carrie."

     Carrie abruptly bent down and stuck her hand inside
Bob's bulging jock.  Bob jerked as if he'd been touched by a
live wire.

     "And I've got you aroused again.  Haven't I, Bob?  Pull
your jock off and give it to Sandra," Carrie ordered.
"Maybe she'll want it as a memento of her first time with
the Iron Maidens."

     Bob hesitated.  Carrie glared down at him and inhaled
deeply.  She pointed to her biceps and flexed again.  "If I
have to tell you again, I'll show no mercy to your ribs or
any other part of you." she said darkly.  Bob lifted his
hips off the mats and slid his jock off, offering it up to
Sandra.  She took it and snickered.

     Unrestrained, Bob's penis sprang to a full erection.
Carrie knelt down between his legs.  She kneaded the soft
flesh of the insides of his thighs.  Her fingers meandered
closer and closer to his scrotum.  Teasing and tantalizing
his tumescence.  Mitch was surprised at how brazen the Iron
Maidens were -- that they would strip a man naked and play
with him to arouse him.  He wondered if he too would be put
on display when his time to wrestle came.

     "Bob's notorious for having a real short fuse," Carrie
commented to Sandra.  "It takes next to nothing to make him
come.  Fortunately, he gets hard again pretty quickly."

     "Are you going to do him now?" Sandra asked excitedly.
"I mean, I've never watched another woman get a guy's rocks
off before.  This is pretty wild."

     "Well I guess I'll just have to then, won't I?" Carrie
answered.

     Mitch could not believe his eyes.  Sure, he had had
fantasies about muscular, dominant, sexually aggressive
women.  But right here?  In front of him!  An amazon jerking
off a helpless guy?  He was torn between wanting to watch
and being too ashamed to look.

     "Oh shit," he muttered as Carrie's fingers encircled
Bob's thick cock.  She gave Bob just one squeeze and he
ejaculated copiously.

     Carrie stood up over her spent foe and looked back over
at Sandra.  "If you know any guys who you think would be
good candidates, let us know.  We're always looking for
fresh recruits."  She prodded Bob's side with her feet,
ordering him back to the men's  side of the mats.  "Okay
Mitch, enough spectating.  You're up next.  Alyssa, I assume
you want the honors."

     "Oh yes," Alyssa replied, striding confidently to the
middle of the mats.  "Come on Mitch.  It's time for your
initiation.  Your screen savers are going to pale in
comparison to this.  Mary, grab Jim.  We're going to make
this two on two."

     Mitch cautiously moved to the center of the mats,
taking in the sight of Alyssa's stupendous muscularity once
again.  The reality that he was about to face off against
this incredible physical specimen hit him like a sledge
hammer.

     She could see his apprehension.  She could practically
smell his fear.  She would overwhelm all his senses.  She
would rule him totally.

     "Try dealing with this," she hissed.  She grabbed the
underside of her black half tank and pulled it over her
head.  She slid the thong down over her hips and kicked it
aside.  She stood before him stark naked.  Her enormous
breasts thrust straight out, defying gravity, defiantly
proclaiming her power.

     Mary positioned herself beside Alyssa and ripped her
top off, exposing her ripe, firm 44 double D's.  "You guys
don't stand a chance," she declared.

     "You got any strategy for this?" Mitch asked Jim.

     "Yeah, trying not to get killed." he replied.  "If they
double team one of us and then the other, this will be over
in a flash."

     Mary and Alyssa exchanged high fives and began stalking
their opponents.  Mitch quickly surmised that Jim's
instincts were right.  It looked like they planned to double
team Jim first.  Mary clobbered him with her forearm, the
force of the blow knocking him into Alyssa's arms.  She
powerslammed him to the mats and Mary followed with a flying
elbow to his sternum.  Both women dropped to the mats and
wrapped their legs around Jim's crushed body.

     "No.  Not this.  Not a double scissors.  My god, you'll
kill me!" he squealed.  Mary and Alyssa smiled at each other
and then leaned back and began to squeeze.  Jim's face
contorted in agony.  Before Mitch could even think of a way
to help him, Jim passed out.

     "Keep him company while I break in the new guy," Alyssa
said to Mary. Mary sat on Jim's chest while Alyssa hopped to
her feet.

     "So what do you think now, Mitch?" Alyssa asked.

     "You almost killed Jim.  I've never seen anyone pass
out like that before."

     "Oh we didn't almost kill him.  He just couldn't
breathe and he was in a lot of pain.  His body just quit on
us, that's all.  You guys can't stand up to the force all
this muscle can generate."

     Mitch surveyed Alyssa's spectacular physique and
realized how impossible it would be for him to deal with her
challenge.  Somehow she seemed even bigger now that she was
naked.  He bounced from side to side, trying to seem
athletic, hoping he could put up a better exhibition than
Jack or Bob or poor Jim had been able to do.

     Alyssa wasn't fooled.  In fact, she yawned, stretching
her arms over her head and out to the sides.  That caused
her prodigious breasts to thrust out even further, riveting
Mitch's attention.  He didn't sense Mary sneaking up behind
him.

     Jim groggily called out, "Look out!" but it was too
late.  Mary grabbed hold of Mitch around the chest while
Alyssa moved in.

     "Let's make a little Mitch sandwich," she said,
pressing her hard body against him.  Mary pressed tighter
too and then the two Maidens grabbed each other's arms and
pulled tight.  Mitch was squashed between them, his 175
pound frame no match for the unyielding hardness of Amazon
muscle.  He could feel their astounding breasts pressing
against his chest and back.  They held him so tightly he was
having trouble breathing.

     Jim started getting up and Mary dove at him, knocking
him back down.  Within seconds she had him subdued with a
figure four head scissors.  She tensed her thighs as she
pulled tight with her bulging calf and Jim was knocked out
again.

     In the meantime, Alyssa had scooped Mitch up and was
holding him across her body.  She dropped to one knee and
slammed him across her leg.  The pain and shock reverberated
along Mitch's spine.  Effortlessly she stood up again with
Mitch still in her arms.  He struggled to free himself from
her grasp.

     "Here.  You want to get down?  You want to get away?"
she called as she threw Mitch several feet through the air.
He smashed to the floor and dazedly tried to get back to his
feet.  Alyssa just smiled and let him get up.  She knew that
with her strength and conditioning, the longer the fall
lasted the more one sided it would become.  Until either
Mitch was in too much pain to continue, or too exhausted to
continue, or she simply got bored and put an end to it.

     She leaned far forward, balancing herself by putting
her hands on her power-packed thighs.

     "Come on, Mitch." she urged.  "See if you can get a
takedown.  See if you can get me off my feet."

     "You wouldn't challenge me to try if you thought I
could do it, right?" Mitch asked.

     Alyssa chuckled.  "You're catching on real fast,
Mitch."

     Mitch dropped to a three point stance.  "It's worth a
shot," he declared, launching himself full force at Alyssa.
He came in low, his shoulder slamming against her washboard
abs.  Having played football in high school, he'd been
taught how to hit, how to bring a bigger player down.  He
forced Alyssa back one step, but that was it.  She easily
absorbed the full force of his attempted tackle, her steel
frame repelling his hit.  She used his momentum to flip him
up onto her shoulder, the small of his back draped over her
bulging deltoids.  For a brief moment he caught his
reflection in the mirrors and saw, to his astonishment, that
Alyssa was holding him with just one arm!  What could he
possibly do against such enormous strength?  The female
colossus pressed Mitch high over her head, parading about
the mats in a demonstration of extravagant power.

     Alyssa dropped Mitch nearly eight feet to the floor and
then body splashed him, 190 pounds of solid steel
pulverizing his inferior body.  She laughed at his feeble
attempts to keep her from pinning his arms over his head.
Mitch could not fathom how easy it was for her to control
him.

     "Having fun?" she grinned.

     "You're so strong!" he said hoarsely, taking in the
sight of her pumped 17" arms.  "I can't do anything."

     "Oh, you're wrong about that," she replied devilishly.
She lowered her gaze to her fantastically proportioned
breasts.  "You'll do exactly as I say."

     Pressed tightly against him, Alyssa could feel Mitch's
cock growing.  She smiled at him, satisfied, knowing as a
matter of pride that the other women would see that she had
made him aroused.  She wondered how good his self control
was, because as far as she was concerned he was going to
need it.  She had her own reputation to maintain as an ultra-
curvaceous sex bomb.

     Mitch knew he wasn't going to be able to hide his
rapidly growing erection from Alyssa.  He could feel it
pressing insistently against her rock hard thigh.  She
raised herself slightly, easing her weight off him.  She
resisted the temptation to hip thrust him into battered
submissiveness. No opponent could long endure the piledriver
power of her lower torso ramming and ramming with blurring
speed.

     "Ready for another souvenir, Sandra?" she called out.
Alyssa rolled over onto her back, pulling Mitch over on top
of her and wrapping her arms around his chest to hold him
captive.  Mitch tried prying her arms loose, but he couldn't
even make an impression in her hard-as-rocks muscles.

     "Come on Sandra.  Pull his shorts off.  Let's make this
boy wrestle bare assed." Alyssa said.

     Sandra sprang across the mats and went to the guys'
side first.  Jack flinched as she charged at him, stopping
at the last second and yanking his shorts down.  Jack was
wearing jock strap too and Sandra paused for just a moment,
savoring the fear in his eyes and her newfound sense of
power.  With a loud rip and a snap, she tore the waistband,
reducing the jock to scraps.  She raised an eyebrow at the
sight of Jack's thick semi-hard cock.

     "Now it's your turn Mitch," Sandra exclaimed, making
her way over to where Alyssa continued to restrain him.  He
squirmed helplessly as he felt her grab the back of his
shorts.  "He's not wearing a jock, just underpants," she
announced securing both waistbands in her fingers.

     Mitch felt his clothes being pulled down over his butt
and down his legs and realized a room full of amazonically
proportioned superwomen were about to see his erection.  He
felt Alyssa rolling back over, smothering him under her
muscled physique.

     Suddenly the room was pierced by the thrashing, moaning
cries of Mary, rapidly approaching a stupendous orgasm,
compliments of Jim's furious tonguing.  "OHHH
YYYESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" she groaned, tugging at her stiffened
nipples.  This erotic display had a pronounced effect on
both Jack and Bob's members, a reaction not missed by Sandra
or Carrie.  They whispered words to each other, but then
refocused their attention on Alyssa and Mitch.

     Alyssa was rolling off Mitch, giving the Maidens their
first full fledged unobstructed view.

     "One short and thick," Carrie called out, pointing to
Jack.  "One long and thin," she added, referring to Mitch's
erection.  "At least we got some variety with the new guys."

     Alyssa dove back on top of him giggling.  With
practiced ease she subdued him again, laying one of her huge
thighs across his stomach to pin him.  Her fingers fondled
his balls and he twitched, knowing he could take very little
of this intensely erotic stimulation.

     "You got your raise, but you got more than you
bargained for, didn't you Mitch?" she purred.

     "Oh, yes," he replied raspingly.

     "A real live muscle girl.  With arms and legs that
dwarf yours.  A sexy muscle girl too."

     "You're unbelievable."

     "You're going to get rid of all those staged pictures
on your screen savers now that you've felt the real thing,
aren't you, Mitch?"

     "Whatever you want."

     "Three of my favorite words," she snickered.

     Carrie and Sandra, becoming impatient to rejoin the
action, stripped their scanty wrestling attire off.  Despite
the similarity in their breast size, Carrie's resplendently
large pink areolae stood in stark contrast to Sandra's
silver dollar nipples.

     Alyssa gripped Mitch's jaw and twisted his head to view
Carrie and Sandra.  They responded by simultaneously
striking double biceps poses and tightening their pecs,
causing their jutting breasts to thrust out further.

     "Not bad, eh?" she asked.

     "I don't think I can take much more of this," Mitch
confessed.

     "What do you mean, Mitch?" she teased.  "Too much woman
for you to handle?"

     "You know what you're doing to me," he replied,
straining to keep from ejaculating.

     "And to think I've been going easy on you because this
is your first time," she admonished. "I probably could have
made you come in your shorts."

     "If you're going to do it, please put me out of my
misery," Mitch implored.

     "You're so anxious now, you wouldn't last inside me for
a second," she whispered in his ear.  "Maybe I'll give you a
chance later.  You want me to take you.  You want me to rape
you.  Don't you?"

     "Oh, yes.  Please."

     Alyssa shifted her position, trapping Mitch's hard on
between her colossal thighs.  She pushed up with her arms,
lifting her upper body off his, her fantastic breasts
hovering over his face.

     "I can squeeze you hard enough with my thighs that you
can't come until I decide you can," she declared.  "While I
smack you senseless with my boobs."

     Mitch's balls kicked into overdrive, urgently seeking
relief, but Alyssa's vise grip on his penis prevented
anything from happening.  He realized that at this very
moment his ultimate fantasy was being fulfilled -- to be
completely dominated physically and sexually by a powerful,
muscular, busty beauty.

     "Don't do this to me.  Please let me come." he  begged
as the aching in his balls intensified.

     "A unique and exquisite torture, wouldn't you say?"
Alyssa answered.  She knew that bringing Mitch into the
group had been a good choice.  He was cute.  He was
subservient.  He was nicely hung.  He was all but broken in.

     She jerked her left shoulder forward, thrusting her
firm left breast against Mitch's face.  Then her right
shoulder and breast.  Left.  Right.  Left.  Right.  The
heavy globes mashing against him.  He was stunned by the
force with which she could hit him.  These were just her
breasts!  What would ever happen if she donned boxing gloves
and hit him with her fists?

     "Stop.  Please stop." Mitch pleaded.  The other men
were all fully erect, mesmerized by her erotic beating.

     "She makes it look so easy," Sandra commented
admiringly.  "And she's gotten them all hard in the process.
I've never seen four hard ons before."

     "Get used to it," Carrie chuckled.  "It happens all the
time here.  You got it back up again in a real hurry Bob.
You ready to put that thing to good use?"  She started
moving across the floor.

     "Don't be shy Sandra," Mary called.  "If you want Jack
then knock him down and take him.  Or as you've seen, Jim's
tongue comes highly recommended."

     "Maybe I'll try them both," Sandra giggled, following
Carrie across the room.

     "Too bad you're going to miss the action," Alyssa told
Mitch.

     "What do you mean?" he moaned, his testicles desperate
for relief.

     "I'm going to part my thighs while I smother you with
my breasts.  You're going to come and then you're going to
pass out."

     "No.  Don't do that."

     "I'm going to do it because you can't stop me."

     "You're so big I can't stop you," Mitch confessed.  He
could hear Carrie and Sandra going after Bob and Jack, but
his field of view was completely taken up by her 51 inch
double D's.  She put her hands around the back of his head
as she pressed her arms against the sides of her breasts,
squeezing the full globes together, making the deep chasm of
her cleavage even tighter.  The incredibly firm, yet pliant
pillows entrapped his face snugly, cutting off far more air
than he needed.  Then she squeezed even tighter, to show him
he was beyond helpless and to seal his fate.

     Alyssa knew that Mitch would begin struggling in
seconds, writhing below her, clutching her arms, trying
desperately for a breath.  She was waiting for when she
sensed his exertion was at its height.  At that moment she
spread her thighs apart, releasing the penis she had kept
prisoner.  Within a millisecond came his muffled groan, a
shuddering of his entire body, and a rocket of cum that shot
high into the air.


     Whether he passed out from being suffocated or the
sheer orgasmic force of his ejaculation, no one will ever
know.  But Mitch went completely limp in Alyssa's smothering
embrace.



     The first thing Mitch saw as consciousness returned was
Alyssa standing beside him, fitting her breasts into a
bikini top.  She already had her bottoms on.  She looked
down and saw he'd woke up.

     "I thought you were trying to get a nap in," she
chuckled.  She bent down and tossed him a towel and a tiny
pair of satin shorts that looked like the kind of posing
briefs that male bodybuilders compete in.  "Wipe yourself
off and put those on.  We're going to the beach." she
announced.  "You all gave us such little competition today
we decided to play some v-ball."  Mitch looked around to see
that all the other Maidens had bikinis on, and that Bob, Jim
and Jack already were wearing their suits.

     After a fifteen minute drive and a twenty minute walk
along the dunes, the group, with the women strolling in
front, and the men struggling to carry the coolers and all
the other gear, arrived at a wide secluded stretch of beach
where a volleyball net was securely anchored in the powder-
soft white sand.  The Maidens stood by and shouted out
orders for the men to lay out the blankets, start the
barbecue, make drinks from the coolers, and mark off the
boundaries in the sand for the volleyball court.

     "In honor of its recognition in the '96 Olympic Games,
we'll play doubles volleyball," Mary announced.  "We'll
rotate the players on each side.  Who wants up first?"

     Sandra and Carrie volunteered from the Maidens side.
Bob and Jim came out for the men.  It immediately became
apparent that the Maidens would dominate on the volleyball
court as easily as they had on the wrestling mats.  Sandra's
first five overhand leaping serves were aces.  Taking pity
on the men, she switched to underhand serves.  Carrie and
Sandra ran Bob and Jim ragged, hitting the ball in high arcs
that had them running all over the court trying to get to
the ball.  After a few feeble returns from the men, the
Maidens would expertly set each other up for a devastating
spike to end the point.  The only times Bob or Jim got to
serve was when the Maidens hit the ball out of bounds.  The
guys failed to score a single point.

     Jack and Mitch teamed up against Mary and Alyssa in the
second round.

     "Jeez, I don't know whether they're sexier in the nude
or in bikinis," Jack whispered to Mitch.  "What incredible
fucking bodies.  And these two, the tits!"

     "Like the other two are flat-chested," Mitch joked.

     Alyssa looked across the net at the two newbies,
satisfied that these were two of the best looking, best
built guys the Maidens had recruited in months.  Mitch was
cuter, but Jack had over 50 more pounds of beef on him and
that broad chest.  She wished she'd had some time on the
mats with him.  But they'd both be a lot of fun and there'd
be plenty more times like today.

     She blew a kiss to Mitch and sent the ball in a high
arc over the net.  He scrambled to get the ball set to Jack
who used his height to get a decent return over.  Mary dove
to save the ball, setting it for Alyssa who creamed the ball
for a bullet spike that whistled between Mitch and Jack
before they could react.

     Mitch and Jack may have had more talent than Bob and
Jim, but they were still no match for the Maidens.  To their
credit, they managed to get seven points before Alyssa and
Mary won.  Three on out of bounds returns, two by Jack and
two by Mitch.

     Alyssa patted Mitch on the butt as they left the court.
"Come here, lie down beside me." she invited.  Mitch flopped
onto his back.  Alyssa lay down on her stomach, propping
herself up on her elbows.  Mitch was trying to get his wind
back, since the Maidens had deliberately stretched out the
last two points to really make the guys run.  Run into the
ground was exactly how Mitch felt.

     "You two did great," Alyssa complimented.

     "Not according to the score.  We got trounced." Mitch
admitted.

     "But nobody's scored that many points against us in a
long time." Alyssa explained.

     "Well it's all relative I guess.  Kind of like saying
that we're the tallest midgets."

     "Well don't start sounding like a loser.  You had a lot
of fun today didn't you?" Alyssa asked.

     "Yeah, I had fun.  I mean it was fantastic.  But it all
happened so suddenly I guess it was a bit overwhelming."
Mitch answered.

     "Still sinking in?  Still trying to digest it all?"

     "Yeah that's what I mean.  I just wasn't expecting all
this.  I wouldn't have conceived this kind of thing went
on."

     "What about your screen savers?"

     "Oh that was a fantasy world for me.  I never guessed
there was anything like you or this -- not on this scale."

     "Surely you put two and two together between my seeing
your screen savers and inviting you to a gym called the Iron
Maidens?"

     "I think I was in a bit of a daze between the long
hours, getting such a great raise, and then getting invited
to see you outside the office.  Maybe I imagined there'd be
a little horsing around, but I had no idea you'd be
so...so..."  He struggled to find the right words.

     "Charming?" she laughed, completing his sentence.
Mitch laughed too.  "Surely you were aware of my charms."
Alyssa directed her gaze to her breasts.

     "Well it's kind of hard to miss those," Mitch allowed.
"But the way you dress at work, I don't think anyone would
come close to guessing you're so muscular."

     "That's good to know.  I like to keep my work life and
my private life separate."

     "Including me?"

     "Well obviously, you're the exception."

     "If you don't mind my asking, what does happen between
us and between the other guys and the Maidens?"

     "As for me and you," Alyssa began to explain, "I think
you'll find your work environment will take on some exciting
new twists and challenges."  She grinned and winked.  "I'll
warn you of one thing.  If I call you into my office, close
the door and make sure it's locked.  As far as this is
concerned,"  she waved her hand in the direction of the
group, "we have a pretty wide open policy.  We girls may
have our particular favorites, especially outside the gym,
but during sessions, the policy is we take whatever we
want."

     "So if one of the other girls wanted to take me right
now you wouldn't mind?" Mitch asked, hoping Alyssa would
become defensive.

     "Outside the gym I can let the girls know you're off
limits.  But the only way any guy can become exclusive for
one girl is for him to not come to the gym anymore.  Inside,
the only policy that works, that keeps from any
disagreements among the Maidens, is a reciprocal, wide open,
do whatever you want policy."

     "So your answer is yes, you wouldn't mind."

     "Look Mitch, if I were you I'd look at this as quite an
opportunity.  Where have you ever seen a bunch of bodies
like these?  I know they think you're cute and you've got
enough between your legs to get a lot of them interested.
Of course it's obvious why Jack is going to get a lot of
attention too."  Alyssa sighed and paused, looking over
towards Jack.

     Mitch wanted to change the subject.  "You said you want
to avoid disagreements," he repeated.  "So that means you're
pretty competitive."

     "Of course!  What do you think?  We train hard.  We're
very aggressive.  We're proud of our bodies and we're proud
of our sex appeal.  Naturally there's an element of
competition.  But the more important thing is because we
encourage each other and because we share everything inside
the gym, there's a bigger element of cooperation that
outweighs the competition."

     "Ever wrestle each other?" Mitch inquired.

     "Sure we do.  And some of us more experienced Maidens
will train the newcomers, teach them some moves.  I'll
probably have to take Sandra on, teach her a thing or two.
She's a little too cocky after pummeling Jack, but she did
look good."

     "Think you can beat her?"

     "Mitch!" Alyssa exclaimed, raising one eyebrow for
angry emphasis.  "That is a stupid question.  She's strong,
but compared to me, she's inexperienced.  She'd make one
mistake and it would be over.  I'm far too powerful for her
to recover."

     "Boy, I'd love to see that!" he cheered.

     "Sorry, Mitch, but no men are ever allowed.  You will
never see an Iron Maiden lose, even to another Iron Maiden.
But it is quite a sight.  Rules are that we wrestle nude."

     "Oh don't tell me anymore.  I'm beginning to drool." he
broke in.

     "You want to drool?" she prodded.  "You want to really
drool?  Sometime I'll have Carrie wrestle you and have her
do her little show.  What she does is wear you down
wrestling until you can't move.  Then she ties your wrists
to a piece of equipment so you really can't move.  Gets you
naked if you aren't already.  Then she starts this dance
that's half muscle flexing routine and half of the sexiest
dancing you've ever seen.  Much as I hate to admit it that
girl has the most intense sex appeal.  Ain't too long before
her victim, if you want to call him that, shoots his load.
She never touches him.  He obviously can't touch himself.
Sexual sensory overload."

     Alyssa cocked her head sideways to check Mitch's
crotch.  He was so hard it looked like he might rip through
the tiny briefs.  She grinned.  "I thought that might get
the pump primed again," she purred.

     "As if lying beside the most incredible body in the
world wouldn't be more than sufficient inspiration," Mitch
replied.

     "Flattery, dear boy, may get you in a lot of trouble,"
she kidded.

     "Hey, you can't blame me for trying, and I'm really not
lying."

     "So if I've got such an incredible bod then how come
you haven't been peeking down my chest?" she challenged.

     "You notice that kind of thing?"

     "All women notice when men are staring down their
chests."

     "Well, if you want to know the truth, I've been dying
to because I think they are so beautiful, but I was afraid
to.  I figured you'd catch me looking and be mad and think
that all I was interested in was your bust."

     "That's kind of sweet.  I always thought you were kind
of shy at work.  You didn't gawk and talk to my chest
whenever we were together.  But considering what these
babies did to you a while ago, I think it's safe to say that
you can take a good gander whenever we're together like
this."

     Free to look, Mitch watched as Alyssa took her index
finger and seductively drew it down from the top of her
jutting breast to the top of her bikini top.

     "Oh god," he muttered.  "A woman with a body like yours
who can kick the shit out of me with one hand.  What did I
do right to deserve this?"

     Alyssa couldn't resist slipping her hand into his
briefs and fondling his erection.

     "I think I've got the answer right here in the palm of
my hand," she chuckled.  "Now take these things off before I
rip them off and you have to walk back to the car bare-
assed."

     Alyssa raised up on her knees and untied her top, then
pulled her bottom down.

     "Aren't you glad you don't have to go to work
tomorrow?" she laughed, sliding on top of his body.

THE END

(Story and characters (C) 1995 Mike Shoemaker and AmazonFan,
all rights reserved.)