Tracy the Valkyrie by Ric Tracy, the very strong teenager The world of strongwomen contests was plenty of big surprises by newcomers who made a strike defeating any popular experienced wrestler and then disappeared in total oblivion letting the smell to fiddle in the air or just got depressed and quitted the circuit after their first defeat. Miren particularly enjoyed to be the woman who take a fighters virginity out and applied her such a hard defeat that killed from their born the career of a promising strength athlete. She felt an inclination for never before overpowered young arms rushed with pride and defiance. She felt particularly arousal hearing the words I submitted shyly pronounced by young lips for the very first time. The longer they resisted the more pleasure they provided to her. But if she could take a three one-seconds win she’d do it, and enjoyed the mixture of fear and respect in the face of the so tamed muscle wilds. Armwrestlers coming from the up to 16 year old amateur class were a continuous source for virgin strong arms. The toughest youngster she had tested was a ponytailed gypsy teenager brawler with hands twice bigger than hers and sharp steel hard nails who bravely exchanged with Miren shoulder wrenchers, wrist twisters and nail punctures for ten minutes until the more experienced female, her back hand abundantly bleeding, combined her fabulous strength with a prodigious lightning fast technique and tore the girl’s tendons apart, thus putting a precocious end to her armwrestling career. But what had never happened to her before, and made that match unique and perhaps the more thrilling in her intense career, was to find herself scheduled against a newcomer in an official armwrestling bout... and being down in the odds! The awesome creature that had made such a success of beating her in the criteria of the armwrestling connoisseurs that ruled gambling in that sport was a curly red-haired 15 year old girl of 150 pds and 3 inches taller than her called Tracy Irons, but better known in the armwrestling arenas as The Valkyrie. Tracy had grown up in a farm and soon it became clear that she was gifted with a supernormal strength. Her parents encouraged her to train with weights. At 12 they brought her to the county powerlifting contest. She was not allowed to officially participate, but after the event she invaded the mat and her little body deadlifted the same monster dumbbells left by the male heavyweight winner in his last try. People got wild with her and the organizers allowed her to make a bench press and a squat. Her parents asked again for the male champion record and Tracy matched it. At 13, still unofficially, though well known for her last year feat, their parents brought her to the state finals. The guy who officially won, a 250 pds hunk, invited her onto the mat. Tracy deadlifted just 10 pds less than him but matched his squat and in a prodigious exertion of her bulky arms beat him by 15 pds in the bench press. The big guy in a sportive gesture unfastened his belt, put it around Tracy narrow waist and lifted her arm to the crowd. At 14 Tracy’s parents won a legal battle and got Tracy as an official armwrestling pro. Her beginnings were breathtaking. In her debut she beat 3-1 a Japanese male in Tokyo before 10.000 spectators. She performed at the beginning her now classical show pull breaking a 3 inch thick oak wood pole fixed in 45º to the armwrestling table. A few weeks later she awed two standard weight Italian females in Rome in the same evening and beat them 3-0 and 3-2. She had started with the wooden pole number again. Then she had her big chance, a shot to Deb, a shot to the stdw title holder (Miren had retired from official armwrestling in that weight class). Life at tv Deb struggled for 20 min until her face got too red and admitted that the 14 year old candy was just too strong for her and yield the first pull. But she wasn’t the champion by chance. In the second she resorted to all kinds of tricks and put her down in 6 min., but she paid the effort and lost the third pull swept by the young amazon. The fourth and last pull was an anthology one. Deb used her superior technique and her undeniable colossal strength to dominate Tracy’s raw power, but was unable to make her touch the pad and finish her off. At minute 26 Tracy launched a massive attack that turned the pretty blonde into a red flushed patting overloaded strongpussy that spasmodically came twice before shouting the mythical ‘I can’t’ and give up. After beating Deb and conquering the stdw title Tracy’s parents intended to schedule two millionaire bouts; one again an off limits male and the second against Miren. But Miren was by that time planning her Arabian tour and refused to wrestle Tracy in the suggested date. Tracy’s parents protested and accused Miren to chicken. They sent her the tape of the bout between Tracy and a Canadian woodcutter. Miren watched to the tape a whole night. She had herself beaten the Canadian last year in a 3-2 bout. The Canadian was so strong that she had injured her shoulder in the fourth pull and had taken 40 infernal min of sufferance to win the fifth for a total of 130 min. Tracy had beaten him 3-1 in 30 min. After dinner Miren and Kali embraced on the sofa and pressed their hard bodies together seeking a comfortable position. The tv set was on and a popular showman introduced his surprise guest. A close-up showed the freckled silky skin of a red-haired young girl with huge green sparkling eyes. Miren shocked and knocked Kali’s head recognizing Tracy Iron’s features, the strong girl she has refused to armwrestle. The showman and the girl sit in front of a little glass table. Valkyrie Tracy playfully balanced her overgrown legs revealed by the short jeans cut in shreds, moving fast her brand new trainers. She leaned forwards and answered the salutations with a charming smile reveling her large square teeth. ‘Today we have in our show a young pretty girl from Arkansas. A girl who may look like many others of her age...’ The cameras run over Tracy body. She looked casual and relaxed. ‘But this young lady is not quite a common one. A window opened in a screen’s corner displaying an hyperclose shot of a sweaty strained red flushed face caught in a distorted grimace of effort and some guttural noises flourishing deep from her throat. But the big green eyes sparkling under the floodlights were unmistakable. She was Tracy. The shot got wider showing the face connected by a bull neck to large wide bulky shoulders, and the run away the insertions of a bodybuilder-type arm crowned by a disproportionately large biceps. A thick overloaded blood vessel pumped up. As the shot grew wider her hands appeared locked to a even mightier muscled arm, this second though less definite and hairy. It was the Canadian woodsman, they were awing in a crowded pavilion. At the same time in the full screen there was a close up of Tracy’s eyes enjoying the showman’s compliments. This girl her is the same of that one in the images taken three days ago in the Central Pavilion were Tracy the Valkyrie? Irons defeated the 300 pds. Canadian armwrestling ‘the woodsman’. At the end of the 30 min. breathtaking clash the sportive bigman, completely exhausted, lifted up your arm and declared through the mics that you were stronger. What did you feel, Tracy? Well, John, I felt it was true. I’m stronger than him because he’s just an human being and, believe me, John, I’m the strongest human being alive. Ooooh Tracy, That’s not exactly humble for a teenager girl. The window showed the end of last pull and the Valkyrie standing up, raising her swollen wet arms and waving the cheering crowd. The image was also visible for Tracy and the showman. Tracy laughed shyly. It’s not my fault, it’s just the truth. Is it? Well, I know you got a surprise now for a friend of you, haven’t you? Oh yeah, I’ve challenged Miren, but she’s just too scare to armwrestling me because she knows I’ll beat her and spoil her reputation. So I decided to send her a message. OK, now, can you tell us the message, Tracy? Right now John. She stood up and pulled her T-shirt off revealing a brief embroider top. She felt on the floor and made some incredible gymnastics stretching, like leaning on her hands between her thighs, and spreading her joined legs in the air parallel to the floor, her buttocks two inches above the mat, then always resting on her hands, opened her legs in 180º, rotated forward and stood on her head and finally, in a graceful combination of strength and balance, performed a long series of push-ups that made her shapely triceps grow. Then she leaned on her belly and asked John to choose the fattest man in the audience, and commanded him to stand on her back. As soon as the man placed his big feet on Tracy’s ‘shoulder blades’ she pressed her thumbs against the floor and started and endless series of pushups which sculptured thick cords of muscles on her arms, back and shoulders, prompting the public’s applause. When she got bored she stood up and planted a noisy kiss on the fat man’s cheek, making him red-flush. Then she grabbed him by the belt, lifted him more than one feet in the air, her face buried on his big beer belly, and took a walk towards the public, stepping up the stairs to drop him on his place. Then she kissed him again and passed her hands by his head, spoiling his hair dress. The camera went back to the showman, who had changed his facial expression to create a thrilling atmosphere. ‘Now we’ll get serious, Tracy. You’re about to perform a strength test that She-bear herself has failed’. ‘That’s right Bob- said the girl caressing and stretching her fingers, her biceps running up her arms under the skin like a fat squirrel. She didn’t smile anymore and a flame of rage injected her big eyes. ‘I shall prove before you tonight that I’m a stronger woman than she is, so if she still refuses wrestling me, no doubt will remain she’s dead chickened’. A general shot revealed a second plateau where they had set up an official pro armwrestling table. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m proud to let all America witness right now a sensational clash of Titans, an eppreuve of raw muscular power never before broadcasted, an armwrestling bout between two megapowerful undefeated armwrecking creatures. On my left, the 16 year old powerhouse, 12 official matches 12 mighty wins, the strong girl from Arkansas Tracy ... ‘the Valkyrie’ ... Irons’. Tracy showed above her head the heavyweight powerlifting champ belt she had conquered at 13, fastened it to her waist and displayed a capturing hands-open double biceps. Her charming smile was back. She blinked to the camera. ‘And we had to seek hard but eventually we’re proud to bring here tonight, on my right, with 320 lb. a muscular freak of nature from Central Africa...’ A colossal figure filled up the screen. Miren jumped in the sofa recalling the imperturbable expression of the man who had defeated her at Petaluma... ‘the muscle mountain silent Humungus’. Tracy faced the black giant, gripped the metal handle and shook her right arm. Her shapely muscles agitated like heavy water bags slapping loudly. A famous pro armwrestling ref was also introduced. He delicately took Tracy’s hand with two fingers and placed it inside Humungus bulky hand where it disappeared. Shrugging her little nose, she stretched her fingers, struggling to get an upper possition and, despite size disproportion, succeeded forcing the black hand open folding her iron fingertips and conquering the top. The camera focussed on him, so nobody had told the bout had begun should the ref command had not been clearly audible. Tracy in contrast markedly strained, her low mandible brought forward and her beautiful green eyes shrunk. As seconds flew Tracy’s breath became heavier, a shine perspiration covered her forehead and upper lip. Her neck muscles grew larger and spasmodically contracted now and then. Her head turned in search of extra power to send to her arm, dead stopped by Humungus. Though running with sweat as usual, his trunk-like limb was otherwise apparently unstrained. She wondered whether he wasn’t putting his best or rather faked don’t letting show his feelings. She was making her best and knew he had to be using his full strength to stop her, but he didn’t show it. He seemed to be comfortable, relying on his size advantage and just waiting for the impetuous young strong girl to fatigue. He sweated gallons, but he did it just walking his huge body down the street. Tracy’s stamina kept her pulling. When she faltered, she thought of Miren refusing to armwrestling her and new adrenalin bursts renewed her colossal strength. ‘She looks really tough’ said Kali, aware of Miren feelings- ‘but you aren’t scared of her, are you?’ Miren glanced at Kali’s childish eyes and pinned her cheek. ‘Do you want me to rip that farm girl’s arm off, deary?’ Kali recovered her smile. ‘That’s what I want you like, she-bear’. Tracy and Humungus pulled for ten exhausting minutes. The cameras showed every square inch of both rip bodies. Humungus’ muscles were shine and oily. Tracy’s were pale and shapely, and her body was still dry except for her face, neck, armpits and breasts. It seemed to Miren, from some shot angles, that silent Humungus had taken a one inch advantage, but perhaps it was all an optic illusion or just the projection out of her deep wishes. She pulled with the black giant, the man who had subdued her on the armwrestling mat, against the shameless strong-teen. As led by Miren’s will, Tracy started to yield. Her head felt down, unable to further mask her sufferance. ‘Looks like our brave young strong-queen is being outclassed. Can you expertise this, Chuck?’ The ref spoke to the mic. ‘Well, John, she’s definitely stronger pound per pound, her muscle fibers are more powerful than his, but it looks to me that the muscle mass advantage of our colour gentleman is overpowering her. I was expecting some foul play with fatigue but, we have to clearly state this, John, these two are playing as hard as fair. It’s pure strength what this is being about, and nothing else. ‘I bet the dishes that Tracy beats the shit out of my brother’ said Kali, bringing one arm around Miren’s hips and clutching to her. ‘She has to win to give you a good fight. That way you’ll prove again how good you are’. She-bear took her little bear, lifted her in the air, dropped her on her thighs and caressed the roots of her curly hair from behind. ‘What about you? How long you do you think you’d resist her? You’re about to beat Deb!’ Little Kali tried to imagine herself armwrestling the Valkyrie. Her limbs ached. She was only 2 years younger, but that made a hell of a difference. In the screen Tracy had half yielded to a delicate 45 degrees position, but still didn’t resort to shoulder heaving to look for leverage and relied on her definite biceps and pecs. Humungus didn’t bend either. Miren felt deep arousal witnessing the strength demonstration of both wrestlers. She was convinced Tracy would use any trick against her, but the bitch knew she was watching and wanted to impress her. Cute little bitch, she was succeeding. Suddenly Humungus’ arm started trembling. ‘Pig, -muttered a furiously grimacing Tracy mostly to encourage herself - you can’t take it longer, can you. I´m too much piece of woman for your fat ass to handle’. ‘What happens now, Chuck? Tell us’ ‘Well John, things are not as they look like. In armwrestling neither! The gentleman had reached the limit of his muscular power. He can’t pull harder, physiological constrains, John! The young lady is actually on top. She has her arm halfway down but she keeps a strength reserve that he lacks. ‘She’s bloody cute, -said Miren to Kali- she’s waiting for Humungus to collapse and doesn’t waste energy trying to turn the tide, which considering Humungus weight advantage could be suicide if she doesn’t dose her strength reserves’. The ref tapped Humungus shoulder and shout “shoulder...shoulder”. ‘What happens now, Chuck?’ The ref continued its work and commented it for the showman at once. ‘He’s twisting his shoulders to gain leverage with his upper body, which is not allowed’ “shoulder...shoulder”. Tracy smiled and this time loudly insulted him in anger. She wasn’t keeping any reserve, she had just reached her top as well, but she faked like a professional actor. ‘Asshole, don’t cheat, you were fighting like a man, don’t spoil it in the end, don’t shit your pants in the very last minute’. Nobody knew whether Humungus understood English, but he killed the girl with his cow eyes, grunted and launched a desperate attack, bending the Valkyrie’s arm further down. The ref squatted to check the pad. ‘She’s in trouble now, said Miren. ‘She’ll overcome, - replied Kali- both fully captivated by the match intensity. Tracy’s arm was now also trembling. The ref fixed his eyes on her hand, shaking half an inch above the pad. “Shoulder...shoulder” -shout Tracy. The ref stood up and clapped Humungus shoulder, starting a dequalifying count. In a fraction of a second Tracy forced Humungus arm thumping against the pad. She euphorically yelled, spreading her arms in a joy explosion. Humungus, mouth opened, drove his big head backwards. Tracy grabbed both John and Chuck bringing her arms around their thighs, lifted them and jumped like crazy carrying they two along the stage. The men instinctively gripped her head and shoulders in surprise, and then laughed. The public had stood up, cheered and clapped. Finally Tracy released both men on the floor, drove her arm over exhausted Humungus in a friendly gesture and said pointing her fore finger to the camera. ‘Miren, you’ve seen what I’ve just done to the man who defeated you. Now fight me to show who the strongest woman is or hide under your bed for the rest of your lifetime.’ Miren flexed her biceps and probed it with her left hand like checking if still there.