In her bed, snuggled deep beneath the covers to ward off the chill of the night, Amanda felt the change commencing. She could fight it, but it would do no good. In fact, she joyously welcomed it. It was time.

She threw back the coverlet and climbed out of bed, padding on bare feet toward the window. Looking out into the storm, Amanda could hear the creaking of the tree limbs, see the mighty knarled tree sway sinuously against blasts of the wind's unrelenting strength in their ferocious wrestling. It excited her.

It had already begun, the first stirring and rippling of the muscles of her body. As Amanda stood bathed in the moonlight streaming in the window, her splendid form seemed to perceptively alter its shape. It was almost in ultra slow motion, a kind of flowing movement of change taking place. The strength of it began to creep through her splendid physique; the sleek female curves becoming harder and flatter planes, the muscles becoming more swollen and pronounced in etched definition.

By now the change was well along. Amanda could both feel it and see it. Her upper torso gleamed in the moonlight; a sheen of perspiration was glistening on her firm flesh, accentuating the magnificently toned muscularity of her body. Already the separation and chisled density of those muscles was amazing, especially on such a beautiful woman.

Her sleek shoulders seemed to broaden, her ribcage expanded. Amanda needed that breadth of shoulder to anchor the deep chest with its heavy breasts. They thrust out arrogantly as she pulled back her shoulders and arched her back, taking in a deep breath. Below was her sinewy belly, the flat surface marred only by the six molded mounds of her abs. Lithe, powerful hips flared out from her narrow waist and then her legs flowed downward from there. Her legs were those of a ballet dancer; the full rounded calves, sinew-packed thighs, slim ankles and a pair of strongly built, almost masculine feet.

She raised one hand to sweep the cascade of straw-blonde hair from her face. The movement sent a ripple of strength up along her arm and a hard-curved bicep flexed into sight. She brought her other hand up to caress her arm, fingers clasped around the smooth, thick ball of strength as if to test its size. Amanda loved the feel of that rock-hard bicep in such an otherwise slender arm. Even now, with the Change well underway, her figure was deceptively slim. There was indeed a sort of lean look to her body that belied the enormous strength it possessed when aroused. And she was now fully aroused! With a low growl, Amanda reached up and tore her now too-tight nightgown away from her body. It fell to her feet in a puddle of silk and she was free. Amanda threw back her head and howled like a she-wolf, to the accompaniment of the raging storm outside.

Suddenly, without a knock, the bedroom door creaked opened. Mathilda the tall, dour housekeeper stood there with her dark eyes fixed upon Amanda's gloriously nude figure at the window. The older woman was more than a servant, she was Amanda's teacher in the Arts of The Sisterhood; a trusted companion and intimate, someone who knew the girl better than anyone else.

"Is it time?" Mathilda rasped in a low voice that was more of a harsh whisper. "Yes, I can see that it is, by the look of you."

The housekeeper's glittering eyes drank in Amanda's naked body gleaming in the moonlight, traced the sleek lines of the girl's exquisite physique which was now a playground for scampering flexations of incredible female muscularity. Mathilda knew without asking that Amanda's 'animal ally' had fully emerged and that the young woman was ready for her test. It was, in fact, this very moment that Mathilda had trained Amanda for all these years. It was time to meet the Warlock!

"Come", the woman ordered Amanda, "He awaits you outside."

Amanda gave a tight mirthless smile. Yes, of course he would want to meet her out there in the howling storm, she thought to herself. It was kind of theatrical scene that he would choose for their long awaited encounter. Actually, it was more than a mere encounter, it was a test to see if this male Warlock could master the strength of the woman, this wild witch woman who was even now caught up in her first Changing.

"Let him wait!" Amanda murmured distractedly to the housekeeper. "He will taste of my strength soon enough. I am almost finished."

The younger woman glided across the floor like a sleep-walker, seemingly unaware of her nudity or at last uncaring. Her dark eyes gleamed bright in anticipation of what was to come. She was breathing heavily now, her bared breasts rising and falling with excitement. It was time. Down the hall and then down the stairs she went. She pulled open the huge front door, the effort making her arm and shoulder muscles bulge, and stepped out into the night.

She spotted him instantly, standing next to the old oak tree, head thrown back and his hard muscled upper torso arched to receive the pounding rain upon his upturned chest. It was as though the man was sucking strength from the tree as it continued its wrestle with the violent storm. The man, like Amanda, was as naked as a newborn child. He looked to be much more powerful than the beautiful female who now faced him, but looks can sometimes be deceiving.

The two of them could have been twins. They were of equal height and no more than a pound or two apart in weight. They were both of them quite strongly muscled, although all together different in physique. She was all woman, he was an archetypical male. Hers was a firm-rounded female figure despite her marble-solid muscularity; his was hard, corded strength that looked like it was sculpted from granite slabs. And these two elemental forces would soon be joined in an almost ritualistic yet all-out contest of Male against Female.

The man looked over at Amanda with a wolfish grin on his handsome face. He then gave her a scornful glance and pushed away from the tree. So this was the woman he was to test, he thought to himself. His eyes ran over her rain-drenched nude body; the wetness accentuating the clefts and valleys of her female muscularity, bringing the sleek ribbons of strength out into bold relief. His eyes slid up to caress the firm, heavy mounds of her breasts, taking in the powerful shoulders, noticing that her smooth arms boasted rock-hard biceps and sinewy forearms. She was obviously incredibly strong, even without the Changing. "Ah-hhhh, now THIS will be enjoyable", he half-whispered to himself.

Amanda stood with her long legs widespread as she inspected the male in front of her. He was powerful, no doubt about that. But was he as agile and quick as she was, that was what was on Amada's mind. Her eyes searched for any sign of weakness that she might exploit, and her attention was drawn to the heavy cock dangling down between the pillars of his thighs. Even as she watched, it lengthened and thickened itself like a big snake uncoiling with sinuous strength. It lifted its knobbed head, throbbing and pulsing, as if searching for a victim to attack. Amanda smiled, knowing that his proud rock-hard shaft was a weapon to be used against him, not against her. And then with a shiver of aroused excitement, Amanda knew that the Changing was complete. She was ready!

"Come, then, Witch Woman," the handsome Dark Warlock challenged. "Let's see what you've got, what new holds and throws The Sisterhood have taught you. Come and wrestle with me if you dare!"

As the wind howled and the rain lashed their naked bodies, the two figures moved toward one another with outstretched arms, each ready to receive the other within their grip of steely strength. They SPLATTED together with a thud of bare flesh, grappling themselves around one another like wet eels; legs entwined, strong arms clamping tight, wet chest pressed to bare breast .... and then mightily did they wrestle!

Mathilda looked down upon this bizarre spectacle from the window, her dark eyes gleaming with excitement as she watched the man and woman straining in deadlock. She had trained the girl as best she knew how, shared with her all of the secret wrestling tricks of The Sisterhood for just this moment. Amanda had been an eager student, had learned quickly and relished the kind of close-body grappling used by The Sisters, the dangerous witches of the Deep Woods. But could Amanda outwrestle the hard-sinewed male Warlock, that was the question.

Ah-hhh, there ... Mathilda saw that the girl had finally found her hold and locked the big male to her, imprisoned him within the sleek strength of her enwrapped arms and legs. They were on the rain-puddled ground now, straining together on the wet grass. She was on top, he was trying to break her hold and roll her over beneath him. If one didn't look too closely, it seemed that they were hardly moving. They grappled together in slow motion, only their bulging, hard-flexed muscles evidencing the incredible energy they were expending. Other than their panting breath and groans of effort, no sound escaped their lips.

In their breathless struggles, they had rolled across the wet grass with first one on top then the other. Their two bodies were a tight bundle of hot, steaming, straining muscle. Amanda had finally locked the man to her in a combination full-nelson and rear scissors. Her rain-slick arms were woven under his, her forearms pressing down on his biceps, fingers clasped together behind his neck to secure the hold. At the same time, her powerful legs had gathered him securely like the constricting coils of a python and were squeezing him into submission, inch by agonizing inch. As the thunderous storm raged on around them and their entwined bodies lit by flashes of lightning, the two of them strained in muscle-wrenching combat.

Their postions left Amanda sitting behind the heavily muscled body of her male opponent. Her loins were glued to his marble-solid butt, her powerful thighs wrapped around his waist, her biceps bulging as she put more pressure into her full-nelson. It was a devilish combination of wrestling holds that left both of them grunting with effort. The more the big male strained within her holds, the more aroused Amanda became, especially the way his butt flexed and bulged against her Venus mound as he fought to gain his freedom.

Perhaps aided by the slickness of their storm-drenched bodies, or maybe just a case of his corded male strength, the big male suddenly twisted in her holds; breaking her full-nelson, and almost breaking her scissoring legs. But the best he could do was work himself around until they were facing one another, still locked tightly together. Amanda gave a muffled sob. It was not a whimper of pain, but a cry of frustration that Amanda uttered. She thought that she had him.

As if reading her mind, the male Warlock gave a low, chilling chuckle. "No, woman ... not that easily do you defeat me. Now, Witch, we'll see if you've transformed yourself and been trained well enough to best my strength!" grunted the darkly handsome man as he gathered Amanda into his waiting arms.

Mathilda, at the upstairs window, could almost hear the girl's bones creak as the male bent her backward. It was an idiot symphony of sounds out there in the stormy night; the agonizing creak and groan of the oak tree mimicking the muffled grunts and moans of the girl as she tried to break free of the Dark Warlock's horrific holds. As if maddened by the stench of sweat and the pheromones of sexual excitement, the Warlock's mangy dog bit at their legs as they wrestled. The big male kicked the dog away, even as he continued to crush his female opponent into what appeared to be an unbreakable hold.

In the midst of her excruciating pain, Amanda kept focused upon the task at hand. She had thought that she was ready, that the Change itself and Mathilda's many hours of training had been enough to allow her to defeat this naked man with whom she strained in erotic combat. For that was what it was, make no mistake about it. By now they were both of them sexually aroused from their close-locked straining. Their hard-fought wrestling was but rough foreplay to what was to come for the beautiful Witch and the handsome Warlock when sexual dominance had been settled.

The man grappled her into position beneath him, his thickly muscled legs wrapped around her lithe waist, hard calves pressed against her powerful back, his ridged stomach hard-pressed against the flat plane of her belly, his ankles locking to complete the prison of flesh that Amanda now found herself a captive within. His broad chest ground against her firm, melon-solid breasts. He liked the feeling, as wet bare flesh slid and slurped against naked flesh. Their bodies were hot now from the terrible exertion and sweat mingled with the rain's wetness to lather their rippling musculature with a slick film. It was this same wetness that, just as before, allowed one of the two bare-bodied wrestlers to squirm free.

It was done so quickly that Mathilda simply didn't even see the counter-move, but Amanda was now on top of the big male. Her long legs twined with his in a grapevine, her hands gripped his wrists as she pinned the struggling man to the rain-soaked ground. They were laying face-to-face with his arms stretched out behind him. Her heavy breasts half-smothered his upturned face in the deep crevasse between the firm thrusting mounds of woman-flesh. She had him pinned! And yet, this bizarre contest would not be won with a mere pin, it would take a total submission.

The great muscles of her sleek body bulged and rippled with sensuous strength as she slowly crushed the big naked male beneath her. Even now, even as he was being defeated by this awesome. darkly beautiful Witch of The Sisterhood, the man was so aroused that he was almost faint. His lust-swollen snake poked its head hard against the soft portal of Amanda's labial lips, seeking entry, longing for the wet warmth of that tunnel of her sex. But with a clench of her labia, it was the woman who took his cock prisoner and enveloping it within the heat of her eagerly awaiting sex. Ahh-hhh, it felt so good ... to both of them.

Then began a different kind of 'wrestling', a kind of primal coupling with grips and holds as old as Womankind and the males who found favor with them.

Amanda began to swivel her lithe hips in slow rotation as she pumped against him with a steady rhythm, a beat that only she could hear .... the driving, ever-increasing tempo of the music called "The Bolero". The great muscles of their bodies were flexed to the mmaximum as they strained together. She could feel his huge cock swelling even more within the warmth of her vagina, filling her ... yet not completely satisfying her. Not yet, at least.

Mathilda looked down on the incredible scene with a half-smile on her thin lips. The girl had done well, better than even expected. Mathilda herself had once wrestled the Dark Warlock in her own first Changing, but had been defeated. A viciously applied scissor-lock around her neck had made her submit to his strenngth, but not before the powerful male had crushed her windpipe. She carried with her the memory of that terrible wrestling match, that and a voice that was forever a harsh whisper because of her injury. Thus, Amandaa's victory was even sweeter to the older woman.

The darkly handsome male was beaten. Their erotic combat was at an end, and she was victor. Now it was time to take her reward. And she did!

Even in the throes of his defeat, the muscular Warlock could not help his response to Amanda's vaginal grip around his engorged cock. He bucked up against her, bridging up and down like a wild stallion, plunging his rock-hard shaft in and out of her wet sheath, feeling his own orgasmic explosion building within him. he could not tell if he was taking .... or being taken! But Amanda knew.

With a wild, exhultant howl into the still raging storm, the beautiful witch wrestled the big male's seed from him .... and it was almost finished.

The Warlock lay almost unconscious in the quiet backwash of his orgasm. Despite his defeat there was ahalf-smile upon his lips. He felt the smooth body of the witch slid back upon him and his flacid cock twitched in anticiption. The woman changed position upon him, her head moving toward his groin, a tongue snaking out to gently lick the shaft of manhood. Then she struck!

There was no pity in her dark eyes as Amanda raised up on stiffened arms, slid her muscular thighs around the male's neck, squeezed, and crushed the muscular Warlock into fatal submission to her awesome female strength. He had served his purpose, she had served hers.

NOW! Now it was over. The Changing had once again been responsible for a Witch of the Deep Woods emerging victorious in a wrestle-test with a Dark Warlock. And in another nine months a new member of The Sisterhood would be born. That the baby born of the mating of Warlock and Witch would be a girl-child was never in question.

Both Amanda and her mentor, who had joined her on what had been the wet and sodden field of battle, nodded with satisfaction as the storm suddenly stilled, the slashing rain stopped and all became deathly quiet in that darkened stormy night. Amanda gave a final exaltant howl, flexed her magnificently muscled body for the last time and felt the Change slowly fade from her body .... except not all the way!