The She-Viking strength challenge by Ric Deb, the owner of the She-Viking club, guests Paul for a strength challenge Resting on his feet and elbows, Paul heaved up his hips and lifted impaled Lioness in the air. He said, 'You should have tested her... she's damn strong. You couldn't believe it... raw strength... no idea of tactics... just brute power'. Lioness Corinne grabbed his raised knees and twisted his hard cock in circles inside her, rubbing every spot in the depths of her vagina. 'She looked pretty tough but still... I believe Pat is far too much for a novice, even a strength freak'. Paul tensed his thighs with hard continuous contractions that made big Lioness body jump. He saw her wide back brushed by her red long hair waving wild with the ride, as she struggled to keep balance tightening her sex, which rubbed up and down his plunger. 'We'll make much more money that way... otherwise nobody will dare to bet against her. Believe me, it would take YOU half an hour to beat her... I feel it, she'll made the great in armwrestling... she's a fighter... she's born to pin down arms'. Heavy weight armwrestling champion Lioness Corinne battered her jaws in a nervous laugh. Then she grit her teeth and hardened her sex to the top, aiming to bend Paul's steel cock. He contracted his buttocks resisting her vicious squeeze. She leaned back on her palms, her lower body solidified like a bronze statue providing massive sustain to her vaginal grip. Then she planted her wide feet on the bed and brought up her hips pulling Paul's body by her big member but still unable to bend it. She felt down gasping, her bulky bottom landing on Paul's belly. Her muscle-lined nether throat kept its suffocating hold on his member, which however remained stiff as a flag pole. But suddenly, groaning in anger, she tightened again and rose her hips, tugging along Paul's body. This time her abs protruded like half beer cans. She grinned as her vaginal strength prevailed and Paul's sex flexed like thick bamboo pressed by her nether huge. He yelled, in pain, rolling on his belly and protecting himself with his both hands as soon as she released her grip. Her usual smile had vanished. 'Don't want to hear you again comparing that teen crap with myself. If you wish I'll ring Pat and fix a bout against pretty face next month, but if you don't stop pissing me with that fucking stone lifter I'll tear off her arm myself and give it to you in a nice pink laced box as your birthday present'. She felt on the bed. Paul caressed her pillow-size shoulders. 'Leave me alone. I'm tired. You better rest. Tomorrow that Nordic bitch will demand your full power'. After some argument with the maitre, Isa and Miren had late breakfast in the hotel lounge. The intense events of last night urged their bodies to recharge. They drank two liters of tropical juice each and ate a 12 eggs omelet and the whole existence of big Frankfurt sausages. Isa had to admit she couldn't go on when her younger mate ordered two soap dishes of beans and noisily sucked hers into her protruding stomach. To leave no doubt on who could eat the most, Miren took Isa's bean dish and swallowed. After the feast the girls were stuffed like the dummies in a Natural History museum, still their brawl appetite wasn't satiated. Isa had some difference of opinion with the maitre; she complained about the bad quality of the services. She grabbed her dish with her fingers and cracked it like a biscuit before the maitre's eyes. Then she took a big stainless steel spoon and bent its handle with her thumb, passing the now square angled tool to her mate. Young Miren was delightful with her brand new friend, as big as frisky. Following Isa's playful strength show, she clenched both hands on the spoon head and handle, inflated her chest and twisted in opposite wises, progressively turning the serving tool into a funny giant screw. Isa nodded. 'Pffff. Not bad child, where do you hide all that power. Is there something around tougher than you?' The female pugilist examined the table and forwarded her some staff, but she couldn't find anything hard enough to resist Miren's hands, that destroyed ceramic, cracked wood or bent metal and anxiously awaited for the next test, extended as a pianist sat before the instrument. A couple of young waiters discretely observed, stunned by the girl's strength display. Miren was fully aware of their excitation, and pure adrenaline rushed through her recharged body. She had been seeking the bellboy that had caressed her last night during her armwrestling bout with Isa, but perhaps they had brought him to hospital after she had screwed him for two hours, so much arousal armwrestling the she-boxer had injected into her young blood. Showing off her strength in turns at expenses of services and furniture, the stronggirls warmed up, excited by their increasingly demanding challenges. All at once rampant Miren swept the table with her arm, throwing all the hardware on the floor, left its hand upwards on the table and put her right elbow on, hitting the polished surface. 'We had something unfinished, I haven't forgot your bloody wrist-wrestling. I bet I can put you down straight, now that I tasted you're double grip shit'. Isa frowned and clenched each fist, making her bones noisily shatter. 'Your hands may squeeze tighter than mine, you may overeat me, but still there's a long way among my larger upper body strength and your tiny torso'. She surrounded the table legs with hers and locked hands with Miren, who felt in deep concentration. 'You say go, pretty'. Miren shouted and their two bodies hardened. Isa applied top pressure to Miren's shorter limbs, masterly driving her rival to a disadvantageous stance, forcing her to spill her bare strength in purely defensive exertions. After a couple of minutes Miren's arms looked like knotted by the skillful thrusts from Isa, whose boxing trained big guns were clearly in control. She spitted through her grit teeth some undigested remains of sausage. 'Gotcha hunky. Give up'. Miren replied with a monster contraction of her right forearm that folded Isa's wrist like a palm tree in the storm. Isa grunted, she was sweating abundantly, whilst Miren's body, though strained, was completely dry. Using her back muscles, she brought Isa's left arm towards her belly in a single solid exertion that fully out-powered the boxer woman. She seemed to relax a bit after the titanic effort. Isa tried to take advantage but Miren was just too strong. She hated to admit it but she was clearly outclassed. She groaned, prolonging her agony. Miren got more and more loose, dedicating a suggestive beam to the scared waiters who witnessed in the distance the physical supremacy of a teenager on the big female boxer who had easily knocked out a male last evening. She could finish Isa off but she enjoyed making it last and insinuating herself to the guys. She blew her hair off her challenging eyes. 'You two never rest?', said a male voice behind her. Miren felt her back pierced by the mischievous stare of Paul, approaching her. At once she felt her hand thumped against the table by euphoric Isa. He stood before her, pleased by the devastating effect his presence had made on the young powerhouse. 'I got some business for you, pretty. Provided you don't lack concentration that easy any more'. They sat on a sofa before a TV set. Paul called Miren's attention with a cool gesture of his wide chin. 'Corinne has just launched you into the world of professional armwrestling. If you can stand the pace we'll make you a star. But this is not funny nor easy. Pro armwrestlers are armwrecking machines carefully trained to destroy the tougher muscle. Some newcomers don't last longtime. You have to be both tough and cute'. Miren crossed her arms and legs, stretching her miniskirt and developing her chest, pointing her cloth-piercing nipples to the cute hunk who had beaten her armwrestling last night. She noticed he wasn't insensitive to the appeal of her body, just covered with a heart-stopping ultra- low cut top that acted as a translucent skin. 'Who am I wrestling with?'- said Miren, enhanced by the unusual sensation of being the main character in an interesting story and the center of the attention of the cutest guy she had ever met. Paul took a tape from his briefcase and inserted it in the hotel's VT recorder. Then he went back to sit opposite the younger and stronger girl and switched on. 'Her name is Pat. She's a red-haired Caucasian female 5 ft. 6, 150 pd. She belongs to a fundamentalist sect to which she gives all the money she makes armwrestling. The circuit rulers consider her world number three in the standard weight class, which is the one you fit in. She is tireless and never makes mistakes. Her endurance is feared by any wrestler, any size, any sex. If you can't beat her in ten minutes you got all the tickets for a defeat. She can outlast an off-limits male. She doesn't feel pain. I doubt she had nervous system'. The tape showed sequences of a woman in her thirties with long red hair often picked in a pony-tail, wearing an unbelievably tight pink bodice plenty of strained laces which flattened her breasts at an abyssal sea pressure. Her psychotic face with plate-like eyes appeared most of the times purple-stained but tireless and energy charged, putting down her shaking rivals sooner or latter with beautifully performed jerks. 'Last month she beat Japanese Mimi Hagiwara at Osaka, climbing to world number three, in a 3-2 bout of 50 minutes total'. The tape showed Pat and an oriental girl pulling like two grizzlies. Pat was soaked in sweat, her face and mighty neck were more red than her hair. Mimi yelled like an elephant-rat unable to halt Pat's slow but demolishing progression, passionately commented by an incomprehensible but obviously concerned Japanese off-voice. The perspiration glowing face of the oriental beauty sparkled stung by the flashes, reduced by the sufferance to a crying mask. Miren felt a warmth biting her lower body as the Jap collapsed and Pat raised her clenched fists, developing awesome biceps, even stretched. She looked straight into Paul's eyes. 'Scared?'- he asked. Miren showed him the twisted spoon she was playing with and visibly strained to put one more turn on it. 'I'll look after myself' -she said in over-imposed ironic tone. 'Yet there's something that worries me. I have no knowledge of armwrestling techniques. People with half my strength can give me a fight just with tricky grips and things. Not to mention fucking twisters and pinches'. She stuck her eyes on his, recalling his hard job on her hand bones that had put her out last night. 'I need somebody to train me'. Paul rubbed his chin smiling. Not only she was powerful but she used her brains. And now that she got used to his presence, her natural shameless resulted extremely attractive to him. Paul stood up and took the tape from the video. 'There's something I haven't tell you yet. We don't rule this business. You'll have to gain the right to enter the pro circuit winning an official qualification tournament first. We have registered you in the Boston gala in two weeks time. But, believe me, with the raw power your little body hosts that will be pure formality. Until then perhaps Corinne wouldn't mind to warm up her arms with you and make you aware of some basic techniques. Otherwise we'll find you somebody big enough and send him here tomorrow'. '"Somebody" is not satisfactory', she said repeating something she had probably heard in a film at her home village. She stood up, cut his way back to the sofa, tapped his chest with the twisted spoon and put the abused iron in his hands. 'I want YOU to train me'. He grabbed the spoon, shocked by the young girl's proposition. He tested the spoon hardness, and had to use his full strength for long time to unscrew just one of Miren's turns. 'I DON'T want to train you'. He replied, keeping the spoon and taking his briefcase. 'Listen- said Miren, you're perfectly aware that I'm stronger than most of the men you train. I just need a bit of sharpening and will make you win more money you can spend. I didn't expect you to chick'. Paul kept calm, displaying his charming smile. 'I have other things to do. If you fancy, come tonight around the She- Viking, in Central Av. I challenge the owner, a lovely Finish blonde, to a strength contest. I'm a busy man, you know'. 'I'll be there, betting on her- said Miren. 'Two hundred dollars to get in and you paid. You're nuts'. Said Miren to Isa as both girls dressed in smart party clothes made their way into the She-Viking, once her eyes got used to the dim light inside and her eardrums recovered from the first strokes of the heavy music. Miren wore a low cut white number tightened by a wide leather belt to her impossibly narrow waist. Isa covered her flater chest with a sleeve-less black lycra clasped tight to her neck by a black thong. Not surprisingly considering the fee, the atmosphere was definitely selected. Somehow, people found the fee reasonable, because the local was full. The reason for the meeting was written on the wall, where a big panel behind the bar announced the clash. The land lady and Nordic strongwoman She-Viking Deb hosted tonight a new challenger, from France, strength athlete Paul 'charmant' Levesque. Further, as a rich appetizer, the final of the Tough Tit contest. Isa found some free space in the back and asked Miren to order three beers. When the teen stone lifter came back with three two-pint jars over the heads of the crowd Isa was chatting with an extremely young girl who had at least 4 inches on her. Miren, this is my friend Nadia, from Romania, I knocked her down a couple of years ago and she has retired dead-scared, and has changed human opponents by weights. She holds the national weightlifting record now down in her country. Big Nadia exhibited a warm cheerful smile took one of the jars and offered Miren a powerful hand. She had smooth dark long hair falling down to her hips over her back-less clothing. But the most striking feature of her impressive physical was a colossal pair of high pointed immense breasts that even without bra stood up defying Newton and reaching anyplace much earlier than their carrier. Two thirds of the uncontainable boobs burst out of the dress. Miren couldn't help to stick her eyes into the epic mammaries. The big girl lifted her pride-filled chest, laughing obviously pleased by Miren's astonishment. Miren shook her huge hand and found it rough and muscled. She couldn't understand how Isa could have beat that giant, yet she realized three years ago Nadia had to be about 13. Her pectoral mountains were probably still growing! 'I was going backstage to make myself ready'. 'What are you doing'- asked Isa. 'Nothing in particular, just messing around. Perhaps you don't mind to come along and give me a hand to warm up- she said turning down to Miren whose pupils couldn't contract yet. 'I'm sure Isa won't mind to enjoy the male company on her own'. Knowing by experience Isa's tendencies Miren doubted it, but she felt herself more attracted by Nadia than a satellite circling two twin planets. Having said that, in her ever cheerful mood Nadia poured the two pints of beer inside her in a single stroke. 'Hurry up, we go next'. Nadia took Miren hand in hand and pulled her into a dressing room. She passed a greasy tin to Miren, sat in front of her and rolled her robe down to her waist. Her breasts expanded even more pointed, revealing dark auras the size of Miren's palms and erected nipples as thick as her little fingers. Miren took some grease in two finger tips and froze before the giant Romanian. She figured it was some sort of body make up. 'What should I begin with?'. Nadia bent over and took Miren's neck, caressing it with her thumbs and pushing her with her breasts. 'Don't mind, just rub as hard as you can. See if you can make me feel something'. Miren spread the grease onto her right breast and gripped it with her hand. Her tiny nostrils shuddered. Nadia's tits didn't seem made of flesh but rather filled with sand or half dry clay. She clenched her fingers but the tissue stood almost rigid. She increased the pressure progressively, feeling her fingers very slowly digging in Nadia's lead-like breasts. The Romanian strongwoman frowned. 'You got pretty strong paws, should your boobs be a bit bigger you'd do a fearsome tit squeezer'. Miren concentrated in bending and shaping the large mammaries with both her mighty hands. In a few minutes she found herself forced to use her full strength in order to completely rub Nadia's pride. Her hands ached pumped with the effort, but Nadia started to show the effect of her rubbing. Her monster nipples were now about two inches long and Miren could pin them with thumb and forefinger and squeeze hard, and it was like squeezing a pencil. Not to talk about size. Miren couldn't cup one breast with her two hands, and when she tried she felt them still growing. Red-flushed Nadia sighed. She wasn't smiling anymore. 'Great, I had enough pretty. Hope you'll have enjoy it. I wouldn't mind to try again in more a private context some other time, if you fancy'. Miren released her hold. Her forearms had rushed out pressing the wrist rings and golden bracelets she wore. She grabbed Nadia's rolled robe and helped to take it down to the ankles, making a tight ball with the fabric, contemplating the big girl as she put on a topless wrestling outfit. 'How strong are you Nadia? I mean, I'm getting into strength contests and I need to armwrestle people for training, and it is hard for me to find people of my size able to give me a match. Isa said you were on weightlifting. I wonder whether you are strong enough to armwrestle me'. Miren asked with sweet eyes, showing the former robe she had reduced to a tennis ball size clump. Nadia brutally punched her own breasts as a gorilla, the slaps sounding as hammering a beef quarter. She expected almost any question except for that one. 'Just come back to Isa and watch the show. Then you'll get the answer on your own'. As Miren reach Isa, crossing through the cheering crowd, the ref. introduced the tit squeezing contestants. A brunette with curly long hair, as tall as Nadia (perhaps 6 ft.) but much slender and fibrous. Her tits however were if humanly possible even larger, though widely spread in her chest, dramatically pressed by a triple-D cup white bra clearly unable to hold that much mass. Hers were perfectly round immense tits, apparently independent of the rest of her slim frame, not as pointed as Nadia's, but covering down to half her belly. She looked like a grown but still breathtaking woman in her forties. As she unfastened it, the especially made bra was catapulted to the crowd and the breasts jolted heavily tossing left and right. She yelled hysterical, prompting the public fever. Then her rival was presented. It was Nadia. Isa stretched her neck, trying to get a view of her friend among the crowd. Failing, she took Miren by her waist and lifted her as a plastic puppet. 'What's on?'- asked Isa while holding her in the air. 'It's the tit squeezing finals- replied a familiar voice behind them. The fat one is a 17 y.o. Romanian weight lifter. She was unknown till she split off her opponent breasts with her huge paws as a bear would grip a ripe prune last week'. 'Twit- muttered Isa- she didn't let me know why she was here'. Lioness continued. 'The older one is the all time favorite and defending champion, from LA Sugar Sue, so far considered the greatest and toughest pair of boobs alive. Turning back Miren discovered Lioness' long hair, handling a two pints beer jar and shouting. 'Go Sugar- exploded the French strongwoman- you're the greatest!'. Miren glanced all around but couldn't find Paul. The ref. commanded them to lock hands behind the neck for measurement. He took a measuring tape and circled Nadia's chest first, reading the striking figure. Nadia smiled to Miren. It was her personal best ever. Then he passed to the lighter grown woman, who deeply inhaled. The ref. carefully placed the tape on the nipples and chanted the reading, that beat Nadia's by half an inch. The woman yelled again lifting her fists and striking for her fans a lateral pose. Then the ref. led them to a wooden table where the two hugely bosomed beauties sat face to face placing both hands on each other giant mammary mountains. Despite having the largest hands Miren had ever seen in men or women, Nadia couldn't fully wrap the meaty globes of her opponent. After carefully checking the grips, the ref. made a three count down and the two beauties fiercely clenched. The large fingers disappeared deep in the abundant flesh leaving nasty marks on the breasts. Most people stood up again shouting and Miren lost visual contact with the stage. When Isa took her by her waist and lifted her once more, Nadia wept and shuddered. Her half shut eyes abundantly watered and her chin felt down opening her mouth. Her grip pressed the older woman balloons against each other. Her rival patted deeply and her face was also caught by a pain grimace, but her eyes looked much fiercer and defiant.. Her fingers were not as thick as Nadia's but long sharp red painted nails pointed like stilettos, savagely tearing the fat layer in Nadia's breasts. The bigger girl, in turn pressed so hard that the brunette's mega-boobs protruded among her fingers stretching like over-swollen water-bags. Seeing the carnage, Miren couldn't help a clamp biting her own breasts. The Romanian bowed, as trying to stick her chin into Sue's devastating paws. The ref. stopped her move. She broke down crying, still refusing ref.'s invitation to quit. Provided that Sue could stand her grip, while she couldn't take her much longer, she was trying now to twist Sue's mamaries to tear them off her chest, but they were just to big and firm to hold them properly. Sue violently shook her head, as overloaded with some chemical stimulant, and grunted louder than the crowd shouts similarly to some female tennis players in full exertion. 'Your friend is damned'- said Lioness. 'If she's smart she'll give up, before Sugar pour red milkshake off her tits'. Isa let Miren on the floor and said. 'Let's put it this way, five hundred on Nadia'. 'Done', replied Corinne. 'Bring me a beer', Lioness said to Miren ending up her jar. 'I have to celebrate Sugars victory. Say it's for me, and take something for you two'. Miren hesitated, she'd got high on the match and concerned about Nadia. The older woman was melting her lead tits inside her bony paws, but she couldn't be enjoying Nadia's grip, used to clench on the heaviest dumbbell bars. 'Help yourself, I'm not thirsty yet'. Lioness half-closed her big cat green eyes, frowning her meaty cheeks. Her shoulders jolted wider in a pre-fight reflex. Miren held her stare. Corinne's face relaxed into her usual malicious grin. 'Do you also support the former communist? She's just quit'. Miren jumped on Isa's shoulders to watch the stage. The shape of Nadia's breasts had dramatically changed. They were not pointed and elegant anymore but a sad lot of ripped purple tissue bleeding through the edges of the aura. Sugar Sue's monster tits showed the imprints of another pair of defeated big hands, and shined firmer and larger than ever as she expanded her victorious chest to the surrendered crowd. The ref. violently lifted her left arm and her left breast nodded like a satisfied colossus. Miren forgot Nadia's giant sand bags and immediately worshipped the grown woman tit squeezing champion. Her infidelity ashamed her. When the tit squeezers left the stage there was a black out and the people's comments on the show echoed the crowded room. After a while people started clapping altogether, trying to prompt the next event. Suddenly a cannon light shelled the platform and some be bop music made the walls tremble. People whistled, stretching their necks to get a good view. A feline silhouette made her way in from the backstage and the flood-light focused her. It was a blonde breathtaking stripper dressed in a golden bikini. As soon as the light caught her she began a series of contortions with her lower body which turned on all the male and most of the female crowd. Including Miren. Displaying grace and flexibility she got rid off her top, showing little round tits well spread in her make up covered chest. She continued her hip shaking jumping down the stage and mixing among the public. People touched her hard body fascinated by her fitness and sex appeal. She was so perfect she didn't seem human. Childish face, blue eyes, blonde long hair pinned behind her neck, fibrous limbs and sculptured torso. She inserted her thumbs below the laces that held her tiny bottom and started pulling it down, while violently contorting. Some velvet crotch hair showed off, shining under the flood light. Some people from the first row reached out stretching their fingers to touch it. She kept them close. Some security men watched every move. The stripper took one hand and pulled his owner up to stage. He was a man in his thirties, dressed very smartly. She grabbed his large hand and drove it close to her crotch, letting his finger tips just grazing the blonde curls of her pubic hair. The man tried to approach further, but she controlled his arm as a puppet with her right, as she pulled her bottom further down with her left. The man grit his teeth. She was hurting his wrist with her tight grip. After playing with his fingers on her pubis as a feather, she inserted one of them deep underneath her golden bottom, sighed and pumped it back and forth, till hard contractions of her lower body indicated she had come. Then she grabbed the man's belt with her free hand, jerked and lifted him over her head with no effort keeping him up there while stepping out by the stage smiling to the people. 'Is she the strongwoman? That small?- asked Miren, dazzled by the easiness and grace she displayed in her moves, always keeping the man up above her head, but still unable to believe that gorgeous fit body belonged to the world standard weight armwrestling champion. 'Appearances are deceptive' replied Isa. 'She's stronger than an ox. I mean she proved it last year, out pulling and harnessed African ox right here'. When she had showed her load left and right she flexed her legs and threw the man flying ten yard over the heads of the crowd, landing on the back of the room, close to Isa and Miren. Miren's jaw dropped. The blonde stripper hadn't stop charmingly grinning to the crowd as she held the man's body, much bigger than hers, floating over her head. Isa talked to her young fellow. Let me introduce you She-Viking Deb; pound per pound perhaps the stronger creature on Earth. Paul appeared wearing fitted swimming trunks that marked his abundant manhood. She stroke a double biceps to prompt some applause from his fans, entirely women. She had more than four inches on Deb and perhaps 100 pd. more of muscle. Two of his fingers in his left hand were taped. Lioness told Miren he had hurt himself trying to unscrew the steel spoon Miren had twisted with her hands and gave to him as a souvenir. As a commentator with an wireless mic explained the rules and events of the contest Paul and Deb approached and faced each other, both looking confident and relaxed. An assistant handled to Deb a thick iron bar. The blond bombshell clenched her hands on its ends and with a single stroke of her pecs that made her neck cords enlarge as crane cables, bent it till her fists joined on her sternum. She smiled in confidence answering the cheering shouts, and passed the bent bar to Paul. He secured his grip and pulled to open the angle Deb had made on the metal. In the first exertion he got a 45 degrees angle. He inhaled and pulled again, expanding his bull-neck and wide deltoids. The bar though remained bent and the ref. shook his head. Hands on her hips, gorgeous Deb watched amused how the muscle macho failed to straighten the metal her awesome ultra-strong arms had just overpowered. The assistant brought a new bar and this time handled it to Paul. He walked back and forth on the stage, rolling his thick arms and seeking for recovery in his tetanized muscles before accepting the bar. Then he took it by its ends and applied his full strength. The bar yielded as soft plastic. Panting but with a wink, he passed the bar to Deb. The girl taunted him back, mocking his effort, nodding and blowing as impressed by his display, placed the bar's angle between her breasts and going on with her smile to the panting male opponent, pulled up and away her arms and fully unbent it, not stopping her brutal exertion till it got back a perfectly straight shape and the ref. conceded her the first point. Then she showed the bar to the crowd, receiving the excited congratulations with her everlasting grin. For Miren's private delight, Paul beat the Nordic powerhouse in the next event, lifting a row of ten lead blocks by pressing the edges with open hands. His reach advantage played a main role. Smaller Deb was forced to fully spread her arms to embrace the whole row length, fully extending her pecs and biceps and relying on her forearm strength only to hold the lead blocks. She failed and some lead blocks smashed her bare feet. Third event was a face to face test of strength: leg wrestling. They sat on the floor and Deb placed her folded legs inside Paul's. He had to use his leg strength to force her knees together. Then they exchanged positions and in case both succeeded, as the event was timed, quickest pin won. Paul wrapped her shapely legs with his monster limbs. The size difference was huge. Deb pressed Paul's cock with her little white feet, using them as skillfully as a chimpanzee and mustering in her rival a huge erection. As the ref. gave the sign Paul hardened struggling against the tantalizing She-Viking. In two min Paul's thick limbs had almost outpowered Deb's trembling legs, her knees being just half an inch apart. She used then her toes massaging the head of Paul's immense cock, which almost popped out his trunks. He controlled himself and pressed harder, joining her knees and stopping the time in 2,30. As Deb's knees battered each other with a bony noise he came off abundantly wetting his trunks. She released an angry grunt. Stretching her legs the she-Viking shook her thighs to get more irrigation. She abundantly sweat by her groins and lower belly. The ref. called for second round, measuring the distance between Paul's knees with his hand. She wrapped his legs with fury determined to subdue his much larger quads. However, not only she couldn't force Paul's legs together but his leg strength initially prevailed, further separating the knees of the gorgeous blonde apart, making visible the golden thong of her bottom, deep dug inside her steaming crotch. She leaned backwards on her pumped triceps, twisting her heart-stopping upper body, drop her head and channeled her full power through her hips and thighs. Paul's legs shuddered and yielded slowly. After two min Deb had pressed Paul's knees one inch apart. Her neck had swollen thicker than a horse's and every single muscle of her body rippled out in exertion. Paul bent his body forward, approaching his knees with his chin, feeling the warm air exhaled by Deb's colossal effort. Their faces were almost nose to nose. Deb showed her teeth and sort of yelled in a scary grimace of complete craziness, reaching the limits of her colossal strength hardly absorbed by Paul, whose body had solidified like a cooled volcanic rock. The rock cracked, but it was Paul who shouted enraged, time was 2,35, he had defeated the leggy beauty and got 2:1 ahead. Fourth event was a test of toughness; body punching. They hit each other's lower body in turn till one of them gave up or were knocked out. Paul had the weight advantage. Nevertheless it had been Deb who had asked that particular event. The she-Viking was undefeated in body toughness trials. The test began. His fists were bigger and heavier than Deb's, and hammered her as pile-drivers. The stripper's body though was pure concrete. Paul hurt his hands against the invulnerable abs that blinded her flat belly. Deb's steel knuckles in turn dug deep inside his spleen and liver cutting his breathing and demolishing his endurance. After some 20 punches each Deb buried a left into his stomach that made him fall on his knees. He received a count and waited for nine to stand up. Deb psyched him receiving his blow hands behind her neck and refusing to hit back, challenging him to punch again. 'You're finished off, dear. Go ahead I can take your wimpy claps all night long'. Paul joined all his strength left into his right fist and launched a hard jaw that sent Deb's body two yards back. She exhaled through her nostrils and stepped ahead, offering her body once more. Paul refused the humiliation offering his own torso. She smiled and clenched her right fist. This time it landed down on his lower belly, reaching his spine bone and smashing everything in between. Paul blacked out and felt like a sand bag. Corinne shouted encouraging him to get up. Miren hugged her own belly, sick and astonished. At the count of 7 Paul rose up on his knees. No air went into her shocked chest, still he leaned on his hands and stood up. Deb rubbed her nose with her back hand and poked out her tongue, wetting her lips. At last a hunk who was good match for her. Hands on her back neck she stepped forward, heaving him back with her own steel body. 'C'mon big man, Shot'. Paul stepped back rejoined his remaining energy and slammed her diaphragm up to down, tearing off her upper abs muscle insertions. Deb bent over, her legs trembling as leafs, grunting in agony. She wanted to stretch up her torso but muscles didn't obey. The ref. started a count. She rose an arm and grabbed the ref.'s neck, pushing him away. Then she spread her limbs, stretching everything except her shrugged nose. And asked Paul to make ready. He solidified his torso. Deb drove her fist back, shouted and hooked his innards demolishing her belly muscles, reaching every internal organ in his abdomen. As she dug out her fist Paul lied flat. The medical assistance entered the stage. Last event was the she-Viking all time favorite; a brutal specialty she had developed in Finland training against reindeers: head butting. The two fighters grabbed each other's hair with both hands and hit till one of them vanished. Deb could break a brick with her forehead and was now training to challenge a bull. Paul, not fully recovered from the body punching, hardly resisted two head crashes. The third made his legs floppy, but she kept him up by the hair and stroke him twice more till the ref. stopped the fight. She opened her hands and Paul's big body landed on the mat face first. Deb flexed her baseball size left biceps as the ref. lifted her right arm declaring her the winner.