"Battle of Wills", part 2 By Hardie Jenny sets about the further destruction of her large, male cousin. E.mail This story contains explicit sexual material and should be read by adults only. The story so far:- In her Will, Jenny's grandmother left all her considerable wealth to the winner of a series of contest between Jenny and her older cousin, John. John had beaten Jenny at chess, but the girl, despite being younger than her cousin and a lot smaller than him, had surprised everyone concerned by giving the young man a terrible beating at wrestling. She had used her considerable willpower to stare him out at every opportunity and impose her will on the unfortunate male. ..................... At the next meeting of the parties contesting the Will, John's parents were not so subdued as Jenny expected them to be. John had spun them a yarn about the girl cheating by kicking him in the balls, and they believed she'd only gained her victory by underhand methods. Jenny's parents suspected the same! They found it very difficult to believe that their slim young daughter had smashed her large, male cousin to defeat. It just didn't seem possible! Even John was less than abject. He'd begun to believe his own propaganda, and had convinced himself, despite the pain that still affected his body, that the demure looking girl sitting quietly in Gish's office had beaten him by pure luck. Yet his stomach still churned when she fixed him with her calm stare, once again forcing the boy to look away. "The score being one each," intoned Gish, "the nature of the next contest will be decided by chance. There are two choices, boxing and tennis..." Gish hushed the parents as they protested at the idea of an eighteen year old young man boxing a fifteen year old girl, and carried on. "I will toss a coin, and whoever wins the toss can choose the next event." "Heads," called Jenny as Gish spun the coin. It came down `tails'. John hesitated. His body was still recovering from the thrashing the girl had dished out in the wrestling bout. He wasn't sure about getting into the ring with her again, even though he was fairly confident he would be able to beat her at boxing. After all, she couldn't get away with smashing his balls in a boxing match! Still. "Tennis," he said, and began to have doubts straight away as he caught the gleam of delight on Jenny's face. "Too scared to fight me, aren't you, cousin," she mocked. "But it doesn't matter. I can beat you at tennis as well!" The match took place on the court of a private club. This time the rules allowed spectators, and both sets of parents were there to watch. There were also about a dozen girls from Jenny's class in school, whom she'd invited along to support her. The girls were only too willing, but didn't really expect their slender young friend to defeat the strapping, muscular male she was up against. John was kitted out in conventional white shorts and shirt. Jenny, on the other hand, had chosen to wear a very brief pair of navy blue cotton gym briefs, which showed off her sturdy, curved thighs to full advantage, and a white halter top which exposed the faintly defined muscles of her tanned stomach. She looked very sexy and very vulnerable against the bulk of the young man, but her demeanour was one of complete confidence. Jenny was, in fact, a very good player with an abundance of natural talent. She wasn't interested enough in the game to put in the hours of practice required to take her into the professional ranks, but she was highly proficient, with a strength of shot which belied her slender frame. John won the toss and elected to serve. His tactics were simply to blast the girl off the court, and he set about her destruction with a huge ace, which Jenny didn't even attempt to return. Another ace boosted the boy's confidence, but his next service went out of court and Jenny faced his second service for the point. To her astonishment, it was a real `powder puff'. About half the pace of John's first service, the ball looped over the net, bounced, and sat up invitingly. Jenny joyfully picked her spot and drove a perfectly timed forehand past her lumbering opponent to win the point. Another ace brought the score to 40-15, but John's first service on game point once more went out. His second service was another feeble effort. Jenny smacked it away with contempt, and faced up to another game point. John's service ripped into the net and Jenny easily despatched his second service with her powerful forehand. Jenny managed to get her racket to John's next service, sending the ball across the court to the boy's backhand. Instead of taking his time and playing a winning shot, he slashed at the ball, misjudged his shot completely and carted the ball well out of court. Having gone from a winning position of having two game points, John now faced the prospect of having his service broken by the girl facing him across the net. Added to this, Jenny's girl supporters were cheering her every move, and shouting derisory remarks at the hapless boy. John's nerves got the better of him and he served a double fault. To his chagrin he was one game down, and the girl had broken his service, the major part of his game. Jenny quickly realised that John's only weapon was his first big serve. After that his game was very mediocre. He was cumbersome around the court, and his backhand was completely lacking in technique and very fragile indeed. The girl decided the tactics she'd adopt, and set about her task with her own service game. Although she couldn't match the power of her male opponent, Jenny's serve was both quick and reasonably accurate. She served to John's backhand. John's return looped into the middle of the court. Jenny angled her shot into the boy's backhand corner, making him run to play a flaccid return. She smashed a winner from the net. Jenny began to enjoy herself. She didn't have to force errors. John's feeble backhand made the young man completely vulnerable to the girl's tactics. She ran him around the court like she had him on a string, much to the delight of the girl spectators. John wilted under the joint assault of Jenny's highly competent tennis and the taunts of the girls. His service became wilder and wilder as the bewildered boy lost point after point to the calm young girl, until he was completely unable to get a first service in court, and was consequently slaughtered. The boy's parents watched in disbelief as the slender young tomboy ran their powerful, muscular son into the ground, destroying him in front of her classmates with ruthless efficiency. "Game, set and match," announced Gish, as the girl blasted her final winner through the floundering young man's feeble defences. "Miss Jenny wins, six - love, six - love!" Jenny skipped around the court in triumph, acknowledging the cheers of her friends as John slunk dejectedly off the court, trying to hold back tears of shame at the way she'd hammered him to defeat. His father was furious. "How the hell could you let her beat you, she's only a slip of a girl," he fumed. "Now you'll have to beat her at boxing, or is she too good for you at that too! There's thousands of pounds on this, and you're letting a girl, a young, bloody girl, beat you at every bloody thing!" Jenny, meanwhile, was jubilant, standing proudly in front of her parents, hands on hips, straddle-legged, confident in her bearing. "..and I'll thrash him at boxing too, even if he is bigger than me," she said, making sure that John could hear every word. "He's only a boy!" John cringed inside as he heard her. He couldn't take any more of her female triumphalism. He'd have to win at boxing to regain his male pride. Then he thought of the hiding the girl had dished out to him in their wrestling match, and his heart sank. Surely she wouldn't be able to do that to him again. Not if he was ready for her. Not if he got himself prepared properly. Then he heard the bad news. "The boxing match will take place tomorrow," announced Gish, at two o'clock in the gym we used before. Parents and spectators are welcome to attend, Dress for the competitors is optional." John's mouth dropped open in dismay. He'd have no time to prepare. No time to recover from the hammerings she'd given him at wrestling and tennis respectively. His stomach churned as he digested the fact that he'd have to face the girl again so soon. And there was this evening to come. Every night, since their fight John went through it again in his imagination. The memory of the silky skin of the lithe young girl against his own. The pain she inflicted on him even while she felt so soft and feminine, and the calm assurance of her as she stood over him in mocking victory. And his cock always responded, and he had to masturbate. She was his conqueror. His body hurt where she had inflicted pain, but in his mind he was even more damaged. In one part of his mind he actually wanted her to fight him again, to beat him, to stand over him once more in triumph while he looked up at her shapely young body, so beautiful, so female, so terrible. Yet another part told him it was wrong. It should be he, the powerfully muscled male who should win. It should be the girl who was cringing in defeat before HIM. He looked over to where she was standing. Their eyes met and locked, but not for long. As before, it was the boy who couldn't hold the steady gaze of the gorgeous young girl. He looked away in confusion. Once again it was the girl who won the battle of wills. To be continued...