Terrilyn's Tigresses.............Part II



        This story has been co-authored as a prelim to the trilogy and
as a lead in to part 3 of Terrilyn's Tigresses by someone who responed
to the first trilogy, KO'd by a Tomboy. Please email me and advise me of
your comments at mona_sm@hotmail.com.


	It was the morning after my two daughters, 8-year-old Lindsey and
9-year-old Ainsley, had destroyed their teenage male cousins in a series
of boxing bouts in my basement.  I'm an early riser, and usually I'm the
first one downstairs in the morning, especially during school vacations
and weekends.  But on this warm summer's morning,   Ainsley and Lindsey
were already in the kitchen when I got downstairs at 7:00 in the morning.
The girls were sitting across from each other at the kitchen counter,
whispering and giggling.  Ainsley was wearing short light-blue pajama
briefs and a matching little halter top that showed off her long
strawberry blonde hair and light blue eyes.  Lindsey, with her red hair
in a short tomboy cut and her green eyes, was wearing a similar outfit in
a light pink that flattered her tanned legs and arms.  Both outfits
seemed a little skimpy from my point of view, given that our three house
guests were boys 11 to 14 years old, even if they were the girls first
cousins.  "Girls," I suggested in my motherly voice, "don't you think you
might put on some bathrobes, considering that your cousins are going to
be downstairs soon."

	"Who cares," shot back my sometimes fresh-mouthed Lindsey.  "You
always keep the air conditioning temperature set so high that it's really
hot in the house, and we wanna be comfortable in our own house.  Besides,
we don't care what the boys think.  We're the bosses here!"  With that,
both girls let out a little giggle.

	"Well," I said, "I guess you girls have the right to be a little
cocky, considering how easily you beat the boys last night.  I imagine
winning like that was a bit exciting for you girls."

	"A 'bit' exciting?" said Ainsley.  "It was more like we could
hardly sleep all night!  I can't believe how weak and wimpy those boys
were!  Where did anybody ever get the idea that males were the stronger
sex?  It's obviously so bogus!  But it was still an amazing rush to see
them go down under Lindsey's punches -- and mine too.  Like when I hit
James with that uppercut and he started going down ... I was standing
there flexing my muscle and I had this really weird feeling, like
electricity was going through my body and things were flip-flopping
inside me and ..... "  Ainsley hesitated a little, and then said "I never
had that feeling before, Mom.  It wasn't like just getting excited after
winning a soccer game .. it was really weird.  Did you ever get a feeling
like that when you knocked out a guy?  Like when you fought Robbie and
knocked him out?"

	"Yeah Mom," chimed in Lindsey.  "I felt really weird when I knocked
out Mark and Trevor, especially Trevor.  It was like the most exciting
feeling I ever had.  Is that how girls feel when they knock out boys?"

	The wheels started turning in my head, as I remembered my first
victory over an older boy.  Of course, I was 14 the first time I knocked
out Robbie, and I realized that I was getting turned on by the
experience.  But Ainsley and Lindsey were just kids.  They couldn't be
....  I decided to change the subject.

	"Well, girls, it's obviously exciting for you to knock out older
boys.  But just keep in mind that it must have been totally humiliating
for your cousins to get knocked out by much younger girls, so try not to
gloat when they come downstairs for breakfast.  I'm sure they weren't
very happy or excited about losing so badly, so try to consider their
feelings."

	My comment was greeted with giggles from my daughters.  Ainsley
turned to me with a big smirk on her face and said "Really mom?  Cause if
it wasn't so fun and exciting for them, why did Trevor and Scott ....?"
And with that, she pointed her index figure downward and looked at
Lindsey and they both burst into peals of giddy girlish laughter.

	Well, so much for my antiquated preconceptions of what girls knew
at their ages.  I thought of all the hours my girls had spent that summer
in their little private chatroom sessions with friends on the internet,
and I realized that the genie had already gotten out of the bottle and I
couldn't stuff him back in.  So I just tried to handle the topic matter-
of-factly, and said "Well girls, males just tend to have those physical
reactions when they're humiliated in a fight with a female, especially
when the female is a lot younger or smaller.  It's not something you
really need to dwell on, and it's certainly not something I want you
bringing up in front of your cousins.  They're embarrassed enough.
Understand me?"

	The girls shook their heads to say yes.  They were familiar with
that serious tone of mine, and knew that I meant business.  So the smirks
came off their faces and we started talking about other things.  Which
was fortunate, because the boys came downstairs just a couple of minutes
after that.

	As much as the girls were in a giddy and bubbly mood after their
boxing triumph , the boys were the opposite.  As they paraded into the
kitchen wearing nothing but the short pants they had worn the evening
before, they were very humble, almost apologetic, with downcast eyes.  It
was almost as if they were too embarrassed to look the girls or me in the
face.

	"Good morning Aunt Terrilyn," mumbled James.  "Morning, Ainsley,
Lindsey."  They were treading on eggshells.  I decided to break the ice
by asking everybody what they wanted for breakfast, and after they told
me, I got busy preparing bacon and eggs and french toast for the crew.
Meanwhile, the boys were sitting around the kitchen table, not saying
anything, while my girls were doing the same at the counter.  Finally,
after what seemed like a couple of minutes of strained silence, James
spoke up.

	"Hey Ainsley, Lindsey," he said, "us guys were taking about last
night, and we just want to tell you that you're both really great boxers,
and you beat us fair and square and we admit it.  Aunt Terrilyn trained
you girls  real well, and you should both feel real proud that you can
knock out guys who are bigger and older and stronger than you."

	It was no doubt meant as a sincere admission and apology, and would
have been taken that way if James had stopped with the first two
adjectives.  But my scrappy little Lindsey picked up on the third one.
"Stronger?  You think you guys are stronger than us?  Puhleeeze!  You
guys are much weaker than us!"

	And not to be outdone by her little sister, Ainsley chimed in, in
her pseudo-adult tone of voice.  "You're in deep denial, James, if you
think you're stronger than us.  I think we demonstrated last night who
could outmuscle whom!  Wanna go another couple of rounds with me?"

	James probably should have just backed off and retracted his
statement, but he obviously felt the need to preserve a shred of male
dignity, so he stood his ground and replied "Look Ainsley, I admitted you
could beat us in boxing 'cause you're really well trained and know all
the boxing moves, but we are a lot older and bigger than you, and
stronger.  I'm not saying that to brag or anything, but it's just true.
That's all.  I don't want to box you again.  I know you would win."

	That almost abject statement should have mollified Ainsley.  But my
combative little Tigress was really feeling her oats that morning.  "Tell
you what," she said, "after breakfast we'll have a little contest to see
who's stronger, okay?  Or are you gonna chicken out?"  Propelled by the
vestiges of their male pride, James and the other boys took up the
challenge.  At that point, I started dishing out breakfast, hoping that
the matter would pass.  But as the kids were cleaning up their plates,
Lindsey said "Okay guys, after we clear off the counter let's armwrestle
to see who's stronger?  Deal?"  The boys nodded yes.  I guess I could
have stopped it, but nobody was going to get hurt (except perhaps for
hurt pride) and I was curious to see how it would turn out.  So I asked
the kids to give me a few minutes to clean up the kitchen, and said that
I would referee the contest.

	I could have organized an elimination tournament, but obviously all
that the kids were interested in was how the girls would do against the
boys, so I suggested that I would make pairs for each match and the kids
agreed.  Even though Ainsley hadn't boxed Mark, I decided to start them
off as the first pair.  At nine, she was 79 lb, while Mark, at 11, was
about 90 lb.  I figured he might have a chance.  But I was wrong.  Seated
at the kitchen counter, they clasped hands and I evened up their arms to
the starting position, and then said "One, two, three, go."  At that,
Ainsley's muscular little arm slammed Mark's hand down to the countertop
in less than three seconds.  It was as if he offered absolutely no
resistance!  I asked Mark if he had been ready and wanted another try
with Ainsley, but he shook his head and gestured with his hand to
indicate that another try would be absolutely futile, and that Ainsley
was much too strong for him.  Well, this 11 year-old boy was clearly no
match for my nine-year-old daughter, so I matched him up with eight-year-
old Lindsey.  The result was almost identical.  Perhaps this time he
lasted just a second or so longer.  Mark flushed a little with
embarrassment and shook his head.  "I can't believe it!" he said.

	"I can," said Lindsey.  "We've got muscles and you don't!  Do you
have anything there at all?"  She put her fingers on Mark's biceps to see
what he could do, and reluctantly, he flexed, or tried to.  The 11-year-
old boy had nothing.  He was totally soft.  Then Lindsey flexed her
biceps, and the difference was amazing.  She had a muscle, for sure!  Her
biceps actually had a round little peak to it, and was really hard when
she flexed it.  She made all the boys feel it, and I could tell they were
impressed.  Then Ainsley flexed for them as well, and her muscle was a
little bigger than Lindsey's and just as hard, although perhaps just a
little less peaked.  It must have been totally demoralizing for the boys,
especially for poor Mark.  He was the "one punch wonder," knocked out by
Lindsey with her first punch, and now he was also the "five second
wonder," having succumbed to the muscles of both my girls in less than
the time it takes to count to five!  I actually felt sorry for him.

	Trevor was next.  I asked him whether he wanted to pass on Ainsley
and just armwrestle Lindsey, but he was game to try Ainsley first.  So, I
matched the 13-year-old 102 lb boy against my 79 lb 9-year-old daughter.
His 23 pound weight advantage didn't help much.  To be sure he lasted a
lot longer than Mark did against her -- in fact, about three times as
long.  Still, it took Ainsley only about ten seconds to beat him.  At the
start, Trevor held Ainsley even, and his muscle swelled as he tried to
hold her off for a couple of seconds, but then she put on a burst of
power and he strained for a few seconds more and then gave way completely
as she slammed his arm down on the countertop.  Trevor turned bright red,
and muttered an expletive under his breath, but I heard it anyway.  He
was totally humiliated by how easily my 9-year-old had overpowered him.
Unlike Mark, Trevor actually did have a muscle ... as big as Ainsley's.
But it wasn't nearly as hard, and obviously wasn't nearly as strong.
Another humiliating defeat for the boys.

	Now it was Lindsey's turn to armwrestle Trevor.  I could tell that
he was really into the match, hoping to recover some pride after being
knocked out by 8-year-old Lindsey in their boxing match.  Besides being
five years older, at 102 lb he had a 36 lb weight advantage over 66 lb
Lindsey, so he thought he might have a chance.  I put a paperback novel
under Lindsey's elbow to even up the length of their arms, and then they
locked hands and I counted to three.  As they started, I could see both
of them staring intensely at the other.  After the girls' three easy
victories over the boys, I could tell this was going to be a pretty good
match.

	For about five seconds, they held each other even.  Then Trevor let
loose a burst of power, forcing Lindsey's arm down an inch or so.  But
instead of folding, she hung on, preventing him from pushing her arm down
any further.  Five seconds more went  by, and then another five.  Trevor
was clearly giving it everything he had, and his red face and intense
expression reflected that.  But Lindsey wasn't giving any ground.  I
could see the intense look on my daughter's face, and her pumped-up
little biceps looking very hard and peaked from the effort.   It was a
test of wills as well as a test of strength.  The two kids were locked in
combat, intensely staring into each other's eyes.  Then, I saw something
begin to happen.  Ever so slowly, Lindsey was beginning to force Trevor's
arm back towards even.  And as she did so, despite the effort she was
putting forth, she managed to find the breath to start "trash talking"
Trevor, using a little psychological warfare to undermine the older boy's
confidence.

	"Whatsamatter, Muscleboy, can't you even beat an 8-year-old girl?
What are you gonna tell your girlfriends in junior high school after you
lose to me armwrestling as well as boxing?  You're going into seventh
grade and I'm only going into second, but I'm still stronger than you
are!"

	In response, Trevor could only manage to say "Shuddup."  Meanwhile,
their arms had gotten back to even, and Lindsey was beginning slowly,
almost imperceptibly, to push his arm down towards the counter.  By then,
the match had been going on maybe 35 or 40 seconds, and Trevor had given
it his best shot ... and found that it wasn't enough.  My little 8-year-
old was starting to gain the advantage as she continued to needle her
teenage male opponent with more stinging remarks.  	"You're gonna
lose, big teenage Muscleboy!  I had you helpless in our boxing match and
knocked you out, and now you're gonna hit the deck again!  You know why?
Cause you're a boy and I'm a girl, and girls are much stronger than boys!
Loser!"

	I noticed that while this contest was going on, the other kids were
simply staring at the two contestants, saying nothing.  I could tell from
the look in Ainsley's eyes that she was excited and clearly rooting for
her sister, but it was hard to tell what the boys were thinking.  Mark
didn't seem surprised, while James had a sort of sheepish expression on
his face.  As for Trevor, he was getting flustered.  Lindsey had his arm
down a couple of inches from the start point, and Trevor was struggling
to hold her off.  I could see that his arm was starting to shake from the
effort and muscle fatigue, while Lindsey looked cool and intense, well
able to keep up the power.  "You're losing, Trevor," she smilingly teased
him.  "Lil' 8-year-old girl has more of a muscle than big teenage boy,
huh?  Your arm is getting weaker ... I can feel it.  Give it up, Trevor.
You're no match for a girl in anything.  Boys are just the weaker sex!"

	Suddenly, as Lindsey said this, I saw the expression on Trevor's
face change from intense concentration to one of bemusement, and his face
went an even brighter shade of red.  He looked bewildered, as if his
concentration had been broken, and a second later Lindsey slammed his
hand down on the countertop!  It was over!   In a little more than a
minute, the teenage boy had succumbed to the muscles of my little 8-year-
old daughter!  Trevor looked totally embarrassed!  His head dipped down
almost to the level of the countertop, and he just sat like that for a
few seconds.  He said nothing, but looking at his face I could see how
completely humiliated he was.  And when he got up, I could see how
completely humiliated he was even without looking at his face.
Apparently, males pretty universally tend to react that way when they
lose to smaller or younger females.  And here, Lindsey was much younger
and much smaller, and perhaps her taunting also contributed to Trevor's
reaction.  As for Lindsey, she was ecstatic.  She had clearly outmuscled
her teenage cousin, and was hugging Ainsley and even jumping up and down
a bit.  Then she whispered something in Ainsley's ear, and they turned
towards Trevor, who had walked behind the kitchen table, and then both
girls started giggling.  Ainsley caught my eye, and she winked at me and
gestured with her index figure pointed at the floor in front of her.
Involuntarily, my lips parted in a smile that I had to stifle from
becoming a grin.  Poor Trevor!

	Now it was four out of four for the girls.  They had walked over
11-year-old Mark, and while Ainsley had disposed of 13-year-old Trevor
with relative ease, his hard-fought loss to 8-year-old Lindsey seemed to
have affected him even more.  That left only James to stand up for the
boys' side.  And at 117 lb, he wasn't going to be a pushover even for
Ainsley.  As I looked at him standing barechested near the counter, I
could see that he had a pretty strong looking chest, although his
midsection seemed a bit soft.  Earlier, when the kids had compared
muscles, he showed a pretty impressive biceps.  Perhaps it was average or
a bit better for a 14-year-old boy, but it was considerably bigger than
Ainsley's and not noticeably softer.  She had her work cut out for her, I
thought.

	The two of them sat at the counter, waiting to start the match.
For this contest, I needed to put a book under Ainsley's elbow, so that
their hands would be at about the same level when they started.  I
counted to three, and they were off.  Ainsley's tactic seemed to be
different from Lindsey's strategy in the last match.  Instead of trying
to let James wear himself out early in the match, Ainsley sought to get
an immediate advantage.  I saw her biceps peak with a sudden burst of
force as she actually forced James' arm slightly down from even.  I was
wondering if she would repeat Trevor's mistake, and wear herself out
early on.  But apparently, she had managed to gain about an inch of
advantage and to hold it.  Her teeth clenched and her muscle bulged as
she held off James' counterattack, and I could see that she was just
trying to keep her position rather than force James down further.  They
were both totally quiet and intense, not even looking in each other's
eyes, but focused on their arms.  Suddenly, Ainsley's arm gave way about
an inch, back to the start position, but just as quickly, I saw her
biceps pump with another intense burst of effort, and she made up the
ground she had just lost, plus a little bit more.  It seems like she had
the ability to focus her strength in very short intense bursts of power,
and then conserve her strength by locking her arm and holding on to what
she had gained.

	In contrast to the match between Lindsey and Trevor, neither
Ainsley nor James had said a word.  I could see James' brow wrinkle with
intense concentration and effort, as he realized that despite his 38 lb
weight advantage over Ainsley, he was finding the going tougher than he
had imagined.  Meanwhile, Ainsley seemed to be almost in a trance,
showing no emotion whatsoever on her face.  I knew that look of intense
concentration, and how well my little 9-year-old Tigress could focus her
mental energy.  It had served her well in gymnastics, and it was serving
her well in her armwrestling match against James.  They had been going at
it now for at least half a minute, and Ainsley had almost a 2-inch
advantage.  James was trying to make up the lost ground, and I saw him
try to power back Ainsley's arm with everything he had.  But as the
seconds went by, he didn't seem to be getting anywhere, as Ainsley was
calmly holding his attack.  A few seconds more passed, and then I saw
Ainsley's powerful little biceps tense again with another sudden burst of
power, which cost James almost another inch of ground.  Now Ainsley had a
significant advantage, and James had to try to move her arm upwards
instead of sideways.  Another few seconds went by as the girl and boy
remained locked in combat, with no give on either side.  Then Ainsley
made her move with another sudden burst of power.  James lost a little
more ground, and I could see an almost panicked look appear on his face.
Ainsley sensed that she had him, and poured on another burst of strength,
gaining at least another inch.  By then, James' arm was at least half way
down to the countertop.  A few more seconds went by, as James struggled
to try to push her arm up.  Then Ainsley gave it everything she had, in a
make or break bid for victory.  The boy used up all his remaining
strength trying to hold her off, and then his strength suddenly gave way,
and his hand was forced down to the countertop!  In a long struggle,
lasting perhaps 90 seconds, my 9-year-old daughter had overpowered the
14-year-old boy!

	James was crestfallen.  He hadn't uttered a word during the match,
but now he exclaimed "F--k, I can't believe it!"  I forgave him his
little lapse into profanity.  It must have been hard on him to lose to
his much younger cousin.  As for Ainsley, she maintained her relatively
low-key demeanor.  She didn't trash-talk James, or taunt him mercilessly
as Lindsey had taunted Trevor.  After the match, she just smiled at James
and said "Well, James, after I knocked you out you admitted that I was a
better boxer, and now I guess you'll have to admit that I'm also stronger
than you, okay?"  James could do nothing more than mutter "yeah - okay."
It must have been intensely humiliating to find out that a 9-year-old
girl was stronger than he was, but perhaps because of Ainsley's calm and
matter-of-fact approach, he wasn't displaying the outward signs of
humiliation that he had displayed after his boxing match with Ainsley.
Perhaps, I thought, he's getting used to the fact that girls are stronger
than boys.  In any case, I leaned over to Ainsley and whispered in her
ear that I was very proud of her, as much for having mental discipline as
for being strong.  She whispered back "I learned that from you, Mom."
And so she had!

	Well, at that point, all of the boys had been beaten by a girl, and
the only two that hadn't been matched up were James and Lindsey.  Given
that James had a huge weight advantage over Lindsey, I hesitated to match
them up, and suggested that we all have some hot chocolate and call it a
day.  But Lindsey piped up exclaiming  "Hey, what about me and James?"  I
thought about it a second, and then said "No Honey, that doesn't make
sense, James has more than 50 lbs on you -- it just wouldn’t be fair."
But Lindsey persisted, saying "C'mon Mom, lemme have a chance with him!"
And James chimed in saying "Hey, Aunt Terrilyn, if Lindsey want to
armwrestle me I'll do it."  It was obvious to me that James was so
desperate to beat a girl that he would have armwrestled my six-year-old
daughter if I had one.  I felt pretty certain that he would beat Lindsey,
but I decided to let them have a go at it anyway, if for no other reason
than to let James retain some shred of his tattered male ego.  Losing all
the time to preteen girls just had to be tough on teenage boys.  So, I
told them to wait a couple of minutes to let James recover from his match
with Ainsley, and then we would have the final match.

	Lindsey's victory over Trevor seemed to have gone to her head.  As
she sat at the kitchen counter waiting for the match to start, she
started taunting James, saying that girls were totally the stronger sex,
and that she was going to make it 6 and 0 for the girls, and how any girl
could beat a boy.  Maybe it was more of the psychological warfare that
she had employed so successfully in her match with Trevor, or maybe she
really believed it.  Frankly, at that point I was beginning to wonder if
I believed it.  My preteen daughters had demonstrated such a superiority
over their older male cousins that maybe even a 66 lb 8-year-old girl
could beat a 117 lb 14-year-old boy.  Logic told me otherwise, but maybe
Lindsey was right.  We would find out soon enough.

	James wasn't responding to Lindsey's taunts.  As I held their hands
together and was about to count to three, Lindsey mouthed off "Okay,
teenage Muscleboy, here's where you lose to an 8-year-old girl!"  Well,
she seemed confident!  I counted to three and the match started.  This
time, both opponents seemed to be trying for an initial advantage.  James
was giving it everything he had, and so was Lindsey.  There was no
strategy this time, just biceps against biceps to see whose muscle was
stronger.  Five seconds went by, and five more.  The boy and girl were
still dead even in the start position.  Lindsey had stopped trash-talking
when the match began, and I could see that she was exerting every last
ounce of strength that she had.  Her face was turning red, and her muscle
was pumped up.  James, too, was giving it all his power.  Both of them
were trying so hard that I knew it couldn't go on like that much longer.
Somebody had to give soon.  And somebody turned out to be Lindsey.  Her
arm slowly started to give way.  A few seconds more passed, and her arm
dipped even further down towards the countertop.  James now put out his
last reserves of strength, with his face turning bright red from the
effort, and after a few more seconds Lindsey caved completely and James
slammed her arm down in triumph.  If you could call it a triumph.  He was
six years older and more than 50 lbs heavier, yet it still had taken him
over 30 seconds of maximum effort to beat an 8-year-old girl!

	Nonetheless, James looked elated.  He had finally eked out the one
victory that saved the boys from being totally defeated by the girls.
And what he said next betrayed his thoughts.  "Well," he exclaimed, "at
least I can beat Lindsey!"  To which Lindsey retorted, "Only in
armwrestling ... I could still knock you out in a fight!"

	"Sure, sure," said James, "Anytime.  I'll box you any time."  I
started getting a little annoyed with him.  Lindsey was obviously just
talking tough, and James didn't need to take her up on it.  "There'll be
no more fights or contests of any sort," I declared.  "That's it.  You
don't need to prove your masculinity by boxing an 8-year-old girl."

	But James wasn't getting it.  "Hey, Aunt Terrilyn, if Lindsey wants
to box me I'll fight her.  I can beat her in boxing just like I beat her
armwrestling.  She should realize she has some limits and not talk tough
all the time."  And he may have had a point there.  But Lindsey shot
right back, saying "Hey Mom, just cause he's a little stronger than me
doesn't mean he could take me boxing.  I've had the training and I've got
the speed and the moves, and I can knock him out just like Ainsley did!
He already admitted that us girls are better boxers!"  And so it went,
back and forth.  Finally, I realized that there wouldn't be any closure
in this battle of the sexes until I let it play out, and against my
better judgment I said "Okay, we'll have a boxing match between Lindsey
and James tonight.  But whoever wins, that's it, and that's the end of
it!  Okay?"

	The kids all agreed.  I was proud of my girls for their
accomplishments and fighting spirit, and especially proud of my feisty
little Lindsey, who was willing to take on a boy almost twice her size
and twice her age.  I knew she was a good boxer, and that she had
acquitted herself brilliantly against 13-year-old Trevor, knocking him
out convincingly with a barrage of body punches.  But I still worried
that just as in armwrestling, she would be biting off more than she could
chew in going toe-to-toe with 14-year-old James.  I was anxious for her,
and yet excited to see how it would turn out.  Could my 8-year-old little
Tigress defeat a 14-year-old boy in the boxing ring?  I didn't know the
answer, but in a few hours I would find out.


          Part 3 will be posted soon and will describe James and Lidseys
bout. Email me at mona_sm@hotmail.com with your comments and your thoughts
about Terrilyn's Tigresses...............