Diana's Valkyrus 
By Diana the Valkyrie
Diana meets a Valkyrus (a male Valkyrie). 


This is a work of fiction, a story, one of the Sagas of Diana the 
Valkyrie. There is no such thing as a Valkyrus (male Valkyrie), never 
was, never will be, so if you think you're one, then you're mistaken. 
If you think you recognise the fictional character in this story, you're 
mistaken, I made up the name Steven Ruddock, and if anyone in this world 
does have this name or a similar name, then it's a coincidence. If you 
were hoping for sex and violence, there is no sex in this story, and no 
violence. 

If you try the thing with the banana, make sure you have a safety net. 

(C) Diana the Valkyrie, 1996. Email me at valkyrie@thevalkyrie.com


Vicky did a great job in Beyreuth. She spanked her way through the neo-
Nazis like a hot knife through butter, and they were practically eating 
out of her hand by the time she'd finished with them.  And half the town 
too, because she'd recruited the townswomen, and had taught them how to 
spank their husbands. But she'd done the whole job gently, carefully, 
without seriously hurting any men (red bottoms don't count as serious 
injuries, except at the time). And I was proud of her, because that 
meant that she was a real Valkyrie, and that she'd at last gotten over 
her hang-ups. 

But while I was there, I had to watch Judy and Michael. It wasn't that 
they were crass or anything. But they did touch hands a lot, and they'd 
exchange little glances all the time, and when Judy thought no-one was 
watching, she'd rub herself on Michael, who would kind of freeze while 
she did it, you could see he was trying to hold something in, and she 
was teasing him, trying to make him lose control. And, well, and lots of 
things. Lots and lots of things. Haven't you ever watched two people in 
love? And doesn't it make you feel ever so romantic, and appallingly 
horny? 

I had a lot of time while I was convalescing. Time to think, time to 
reason. At first, I was flat on my back, then I was up and about. I was 
getting regular progress reports from Vicky, as she spanked the neo-
Nazis into submission, her dogs at her feet. Judy and Michael were 
completely engrossed in each other, to the exclusion of everything else; 
they had a lot of loving to catch up on. Freya went back to Norway, so I 
was on my own. 

I'm not used to that. I'm used to a madly gay social life, a new lover 
every week (at least). Work hard all day, party hard all evening, fuck 
hard all night. But all I had was my computer, Roger my stuffed dog and 
chief confidant, and my own thoughts. And I thought, I thought a lot. I 
thought about Valkyries. The Web helped, and whenever I needed 
information, I would search it out. 

I soon decided that the legend of the Valkyrie, though interesting and 
fun, was really irrelevant. Likewise Wagner - great music, great plot, 
but really just a well-told story. The important things were the 
verifiable facts, so I listed those. 

1. We're different from normal people, so let's use the word Valkyrie, 
it's a good word, as good as any other. 

2. Bigger bones, 25% bigger in diameter, so 60% more cross-section, 60% 
heavier, 60% stronger. 

3. The two inch covering of muscle over the torso. 

4. And the thighs. And, to a lesser extent, the arms. 

5. The displaced tendons; the leverage giving more force at the cost of 
more mobility. 

6. A strong aversion to hurting men, a strong desire to protect them. 

7. There are several of us that I know about; probably lots more that I 
don't. 

8. The differences are great, and consistent. We're not Homo Sapiens. 
But we can interbreed. 

9. We're a different sub-species, let's call it Homo Valkyrensis. 

10. No males. Where are the males? 

The last aspect was the most important, at least to me. It was all very 
well screwing for fun, but a girl has to think of the future. Looking at 
Judy and Michael made me start to think about something more permanent. 
And, my reasoning went, I had to be better off with someone of my own 
sub-species. We'd be better matched, you would think, more suitable for 
each other. 

Homo Neanderthalis mostly mated with others of the same sub-species, and 
so did Sapiens, which meant that the sub-species differentiation was 
maintained. Presumably Sapiens had some advantage that led to 
Neanderthalis dying out. Or maybe Sapiens ruthlessly committed genocide? 
Sapiens is clearly capable of that. But why is this important? Because 
of the implications to Valkyrensis. So what was Sapiens big advantage, 
and could this lead to problems for Valkyrensis? 

The big advantage that Sapiens had over the rest of the indigenous 
fauna, was intelligence. Neanderthalis was stronger, with stronger 
bones, teeth and muscles. But Valkyrensis seems to be about as 
intelligent as Sapiens, plus we have all that extra muscle and bone. I 
wonder if Valkyrensis is some sort of cross between Neanderthalis and 
Sapiens? There's a bit of a disadvantage in that our higher metabolic 
rate means that we eat more, or at least that would be a disadvantage in 
a society where food is scarce. But in a modern society, food is cheap 
and plentiful, so that drawback has gone. 

Then I thought about male Valkyries again. Where *are* they all? If a 
female Valkyrie is 5-5 to 5-9, weighing 180 to 220 pounds, the male must 
be about 6-2 to 6-9, and maybe 300-400 pounds of hard muscle. By similar 
extrapolation, he'd be about ten times as strong as the average man. If 
such a creature does exist, he's hiding himself *really* well. More 
likely, he doesn't exist. 

Michael and I talked this paradox over many, many times. Michael's main 
suggestion was that there just aren't any male Valkyries, the male half 
of the sub-species has simply died out. But how can you have half a 
species? It didn't make sense to me. Of course, Michael wasn't that 
bothered, he had Judy, and they were very happy together. But I had a 
personal stake in this, I very much wanted male Valkyries to exist, 
wanted with all my heart and soul. I told Michael this, and he shrugged, 
and said "If wishes were horses then beggars would ride." 

Well, all very well for him. But I had plenty of time as I recovered 
from my injuries, and I kept nagging away at the problem. And then one 
day, while Judy and Michael were visiting me (they came round quite 
often to "cheer me up"), Michael said "Diana, have you heard of Lateral 
Thinking?" "What's that?" 

So Michael explained to me the Lateral Thinking method of approaching a 
problem - turn it upside-down, inside-out, approach it backwards, that 
sort of thing. And after they'd gone, I tried it out. Suppose male 
Valkyries do exist, I said to myself. What characteristics would they 
have? 

The most obvious characteristic, is that female Valkyries would be drawn 
to them, would like them a lot. I know that sounds obvious, but ... I 
meant that I could work out what I liked, what other Valkyries liked, 
and maybe that would give me an idea. 

So I thought of all the men I'd gotten through in the last year, and 
which ones were a bit special. And I thought of sweet William, who 
stuttered so badly he could barely speak until I gave him Diana's 
Therapy, and how good it made me feel to help him. And I thought of how 
protective I felt towards William, and towards men in general, and then 
it hit me like a thunderbolt from Thor. Male Valkyries aren't big strong 
hulking muscle mountains. They're small and weak , soft and helpless, 
and that's why I have this tremendous protective urge. And I like my men 
to be very intelligent, witty, articulate and literate. I like a man who 
can stand up to me in conversation and debate (but it doesn't bother me 
if they can't handle me physically or sexually). They don't have to be 
tremendously virile and sexually aggressive, I can handle that part of 
it. 

The second most obvious characteristic, is that male Valkyries would 
like the female of the species. It would be a pretty poor world if the 
males weren't attracted to the females. Of course, the problem there is 
that Sapiens is heavily attracted to Valkyries too, so what I wanted to 
think of, was males who are particularly attracted to Valkyries. 

So, what would you call a male Valkyrie? "Male Valkyrie" is a bit wordy; 
I really want a single word. How about using the Latin second 
declension, Valkyrus? It sounded good to me. 

I told Michael about my thoughts next time Judy brought him round to 
visit. He thought it was entirely likely that I was right, and it 
certainly couldn't hurt to take it as a working hypothesis, and see 
where it led. So that night, I fired up my computer and did a web search 
for Valkyries. It was very disappointing. All I found was Wagner, some 
ASCII art, and some Viking history. Then inspired, I did a search for 
Amazon Women, and I struck gold. There was a newsgroup. alt.amazon-
women.admirers. An entire group, mostly of men, who would find 
Valkyries especially admirable. Yummy. I was in like a ferret. 

But what a disappointment. After discarding the usual spams and similar 
garbage, I was left with a mass of pictures of nearly-naked female 
bodybuilders. Still, I persisted for a couple of weeks, just in case 
there was intelligent life out there. There were a few postings from 
nearly-illiterate boys (you can tell from the spelling and the grammar) 
seeking Amazons, which I took to mean like a Valkyrie only less so, 
judging from the pictures. And then, one day, I was rewarded. Someone 
posted a story, and he sounded like he was very attracted to strong 
women. 

So I emailed him. I told him about myself, and suggested we meet. He 
sent back an email that indicated that he was scared out of his tiny 
mind at the thought of a real strong woman, he preferred his dreams. 
Terrified, almost gibbering. I wanted to take him into my strong arms 
and comfort and soothe away his fears, but since I didn't actually know 
where he lived, that wasn't practical. 

So I went back to wait for more, and another story appeared. 

It was imaginative, well written, articulate, grammatically correct, and 
exciting. In fact, it was mostly a fight sequence, but the writer 
obviously had a profound admiration for strong, sexy women, he was 
clearly intelligent and witty, and just possibly he might be the sort of 
person I was looking for. And, of course, he'd posted from an email 
account, an AOL address. 

I have an AOL account, there's a lot of fun people there, so I logged on 
to AOL and did a quick check of his Profile. That gave me his full name, 
birthday, and that he lived in the Chicago area. He was the right sort 
of age, and these days Chicago isn't like it's on the moon. But I did 
need his address to proceed. 

So, back to the Web. Now I had his name, I used the Allinone search 
engine, on "http://www.albany.net/allinone". Then I looked up People, 
and I tried a couple of the searchers until Switchboard gave me what I 
needed. Isn't the web great? It gave me his full name, also his middle 
initial, his exact street address and his phone number. 

So I phoned up, to check that it was right. A lady answered the phone, 
and I asked for Steven. "Steven?" she said. "Steven Ruddock?" I said. 
"Sorry, you've got the wrong number." Rats. "He moved ages ago." Ah! "Do 
you have his new number?" "Yes, hang on." The nice lady gave me Steven's 
new phone number - progress! So once more I phoned him up, and this 
time, when I asked "Steven Ruddock?" he said yes. So I hung up. 


Everyone knows you can look for a name in a phone book and get the phone 
number. But not everyone knows that you can do it the other way round if 
you've got the phone book as a database. Given the phone number, you can 
find the address. It's entirely legal, anyone can do it in principle, 
but a lot of people don't know how. Valkyries are good with computers, 
they're the 20th century's most important weapon system. It didn't take 
me long to get Steven Ruddock's address from the relevant CD ROM 
(there's a clue for you). 

So why didn't I talk to him? Because I didn't want to scare him off, 
like the other guy. I thought, let him see the total package. Let him 
slowly realise what he's getting into, do the usual feminine wiles 
thing, let him see a bit at a time, and, well, there's no other way to 
put it. Seduce him. Women have been doing this for centuries, there's no 
reason why Valkyries can't do likewise. 

But I did need to contact him, in a way that wasn't scary, non-
threatening. If my theory about Male Valkyries was correct, he'd be 
timid, easily scared, which is why I felt so protective towards them. So 
I sent him an email saying how much I liked his story. No hook, no bait. 
Just an email. 

He responded nicely; he answered me, and we started discussing the art 
of writing, and life in general. I sent him some of my sagas, he sent me 
some of his stories. Before long we were batting emails back and forth 
like old friends. Gradually he began to have some confidence in me, and 
he told me how much he adored strong women; practically worshipped them. 
But he was very nice about it, he didn't once ask me all the crass 
impertinent questions that one usually gets online. You know, you go on 
something like AOL, and immediately you get asked age, sex, height, 
weight, bust size, benching weight and innumerable other personal 
details. I've found a way to handle this long ago - I just don't answer 
any questions except the ones I want to, and if they ask me my bust 
size, I ask their waist, and so on. The one piece of information they do 
volunteer is penis length, which is usually in excess of ten inches, 
it's hard to keep a straight face. I usually ask them if maybe they've 
gotten their schmock muddled up with schnozzle, but I guess they either 
don't speak yiddish, or haven't heard of Pinnocchio. 

Every year in Chicago, they have the National Banking conference, and 
I'd been chosen to give a paper on Negotiating Tactics. I wasn't going 
to give them the real scary stuff, like the bullwhip, but I had a nice 
mathematical theory for them, 90% bullshit and 10% reality. Anyway it 
meant that I had to go to Chicago, and I told Steven I'd be there, and 
we agreed to meet. 

Of course, for the conference itself, I wore my standard lady-banker 
uniform; mid-calf pinstripe skirt, severe jacket over soft silk blouse. 
A woman in a man's world has to dress like a kind of feminine man. It's 
silly, but there it is. 

When I went to meet Steven, I dressed a bit more femininely, but I 
didn't want to scare him, of course. I had it all worked out. Long 
tartan skirt, to hide my muscular legs. Flat shoes so I didn't look 
taller than him. On top, a cashmere sweater, which hid much of the size 
of my upper body, yet let my breasts assert themselves, but then a 
cardigan on top of that, the twinset look. The warm and cuddly look. The 
soft and feminine look. Then I twirled, looked again, and decided that a 
nice tailored jacket would be better than a cardigan; a fraction less 
feminine, but much better for hiding my shoulders, which are a bit wider 
than I'd like. 

When we met, he didn't look disappointed in me. A lot of men look at my 
face, which isn't exactly fine-boned, and judge me from that. He looked 
me up and down appraisingly, like men do, and then he smiled. 

His smile almost melted me. It was like the sun peeping from behind a 
cloud, and I just wanted to hug him. But he offered me a hand, and 
Americans do, so I reached out and shook it. 

Different men shake hands in different ways. There's the wet codfish, limp 
and damp, which is perfectly horrid.  There's the crusher, the man who 
wants to prove the strength of his grip on everyone he meets, including 
ladies. They're difficult to deal with - do I just meet force with force 
and crush him back, or do I let him have his way? You can probably guess 
what a Valkyrie does. 

Steven was firm but gentle. Nice. I tried not to lick my lips, because 
they find that intimidating. 

Steven: 

I really didn't know what to expect. I hadn't asked her for a gif, 
because that's so crass, and asking for her measurements would have been 
even worse. I had some sort of idea from her word-pictures of herself, 
so I was expecting a stocky, maybe even dumpy, blonde, not exactly 
pretty. 

I was frankly terrified when we met. I've always had a thing about 
strong, confident women, and as far as I could see, she was stronger and 
more confident than my wildest dreams. Plus intelligent and witty. Plus 
sexy and uninhibited. And nice. You don't meet a girl like that every 
day, in fact you're lucky to meet such a paragon once in a lifetime. So 
I was scared I'd make a fool of myself. 

By the time I saw her, I'd worked myself into such a state that I could 
barely breathe, and when I saw her, my heart was pounding like a steam 
hammer. 

In my imagination, I'd built her up into a goddess. In reality, she was 
a medium height, medium build, averagely pretty, blonde hair, nothing 
spectacular. She looked nice rather than beautiful, attractive without 
being obvious about herself. She had a delightful British accent, she 
sounded classy and sophisticated. 

I couldn't really see what she looked like, in fact. She wore a long and 
very full skirt, and long leather boots peeped out from below the hem. I 
looked at her waist, and she was wearing a belt, but it wasn't a whip, 
and above the waist she looked just totally cuddly. 

I offered my hand, and she took it in hers. I don't know what I was 
expecting, I suppose I was half expecting a grip like a vice, but she 
was firm but gentle, warm and friendly. I'd booked a reservation in a 
restaurant for two, and we arrived there at eight. 

She was great to talk to; funny and interesting. She told me stories 
about her work in the bank, I told her stories about my office.  I made 
her laugh, she made me laugh with her dry British humour. We got on very 
well, and she made me forget my nervousness. 

Then we got onto the subject of Diana, Diana the Valkyrie. "So, 
Diana, tell me, what's with all this Valkyrie stuff. You don't really 
believe you're a daughter of Odin, do you?" I was a bit confused there, 
but she explained to me that the mythological stuff was just a bit of 
fun, that they only called themselves Valkyries as a useful label. But 
they did borrow bits of the myth, such as the way they always carried a 
weapon. I asked her about this, and she said that in today's dangerous 
world, that did make rather a lot of sense. I showed her the Swiss 
Army knife I always carried, and she showed me her Cat's Claw that she 
kept in a small scabbard that also kept her hair in place. I asked her 
about Diana the Valkyrie's Castrator, and she just laughed, and said 
"Valkyries have a very dry sense of humour" 

"No, what we've found is that there seem to be a number of us, I don't 
know how many, but not a great many, and we're made a bit differently 
from ordinary people. We do need some sort of word to refer to 
ourselves, and Valkyrie is as good a word as any. Because the original 
Valkyries, legendary or not, sound very similar to us." "So the horse 
with wings isn't real?" She smiled. "24 foot wingspan, 19 hands, 1800 
pounds unladen weight. Do you want to know about the differences, 
Steven?" The tension grew in my stomach as I tried not to sound too 
eager. "Yes, please." "Well, why don't we go back to your place for 
coffee, and we can talk some more." 

For dessert, I just had a coffee, trying to impress her with my 
abstemiousness. She asked for fruit, and when the bowl arrived, she 
chose a banana. 

She took the banana in her left hand, and reached up to her hair, to get 
her Cat's Claw. She brought the razor-sharp dagger down to the top of 
the banana, and, looking me right in the eyes, she gently sliced off the 
tip. I pressed my knees together. Then she ran her dagger halfway down 
the five sides of the banana, slicing through the outer peel, and the 
yellow rind just flopped down, leaving the pulpy fruit inside naked and 
exposed. "I love bananas" she said, and smiled at me. I smiled back, 
weakly, because I felt kind of weak. 

Her tongue peeped slowly out from between her lips, and she brought the 
banana up to meet it. The banana curved back towards her mouth, and her 
tongue flicked out and licked the underside of the edible part. She 
closed her eyes, savouring the taste and the smell. 

"Mmmh," she said. "Don't you just love that?" I was having a hard time; 
breathing was getting difficult, and I tried to speak, to agree with 
her, but only a croak came out. Her tongue licked from side to side, 
playing with the firm fruit, enjoying the moment. She licked the 
underside, she licked the tip. "Steven," she said, smiling at me, and 
then, with one swift sure movement, she lopped off an inch with her 
knife and put it in her mouth, "would you like some?". 

I shook my head, no. With what was running through my brain, eating any 
of that banana was unthinkable. She shrugged her shoulders, which did 
interesting things to her sweater, and cut off another inch. 

How much of this could I take? She was torturing me, I knew it. She knew 
exactly what she was doing to me. I've met teases before, but Diana the 
Valkyrie is the consummate wind-up artist, and I was being wound up 
beyond male endurance can stand. 

She cleaned her knife on a napkin, and stowed it away back in the 
scabbard in her hair. Whew. Thank goodness that was over. Then she took 
the yellow rind in one hand, and slowly peeled it away from the pulp, 
while I sat and realised that my torture was not yet ended. Slowly, 
gently she peeled that banana, while my vivid imagination supplied 
endless gory details. Then she brought it up to her mouth, showed two 
rows of white teeth, and bit an inch off the end. 

Unnh. I can't take this. "Excuse me a moment, please" I said, and rushed 
off to the Gents to recover my poise and equilibrium. After a few 
minutes, I'd subsided enough to risk her company again, and I sat down 
at the table. "Are you all right, Steven?" she enquired, anxiously? "Did 
something come up?" I closed my eyes and willed it away, and when I 
opened them again, the world's greatest flirt was still sitting there, 
smiling at me. 

She looked down at her plate, and so did I. The banana was still there. 
She looked up at me, smiled sexily, and picked the banana up in both 
hands. Then very gently, she broke it in half, and gave me half of it. 
"Eat it, Steven, it'll make you feel better." 

I didn't even think about it, although subsequently, I've examined that 
statement, and I can't imagine why eating half a banana would make me 
feel better. But I ate it anyway, because it simply didn't occur to me 
not to, it didn't occur to me to disobey Diana the Valkyrie. 

Afterwards, I thought about the whole incident. Anyone watching us would 
have seen a woman eating a banana, and giving some of it to her friend. 
But I knew differently. I now know that it is possible for a woman to 
totally dominate and subdue a man using nothing more than a banana, and 
without even touching him. 

"This is what you do for a living, isn't it Diana?" She smiled. "Yes, 
you've just seen the power a Valkyrie can exert over a man. And Steven, 
you have a very vivid imagination, so you are more susceptible to me than 
most. In fact, Steven, I've been wondering - you may even be a male 
Valkyrie." 

I'm not really used to a woman taking charge like this, but I suppose I 
should have expected it. The thought of what might happen this evening 
had me moderately aroused already. She signalled to the waiter, and when 
he brought the bill she took it before I could reach it, and pulled out 
her credit card. "No, I'll pay, Diana." She smiled, and beckoned the 
waiter over. "Diana, I'll pay" I insisted. "Steven, that's very sweet of 
you, but no." "Diana, you're my guest. I insist." She raised one eyebrow 
at me. "Tell you what, Steven. We'll arm-wrestle for it, winner pays the 
bill". 

Unhhh. Did she realise what she was doing to me? Did she know she'd just 
voiced one of my deepest fantasies, that of being beaten in a fair fight 
by a beautiful woman? I was *really* turned on now, barely able to 
contain my eagerness as I put my elbow on the table. She stood up. 
"Well?" she said. 

I looked up. She'd paid already, and she was standing waiting for me. I 
felt a bit of a fool, she'd been winding me up. I stood up, with some 
difficulty, and she glanced down and remarked "Is that a banana in your 
pocket, or are you pleased to see me?" Unhhhhhhh. 

By the time we got to my car, I was calmed down enough to be able to 
drive. We got in, and Diana put on her seat belt, and for the first 
time, I got some idea of just how deep her breasts were. The diagonal 
almost disappeared between them, and the rest of my cool disappeared 
too. 

I looked sideways, she arched her back slightly, and I realised what she 
was doing. "Diana, you must be the world's biggest wind-up artist." and 
she laughed. "I've been told that before." 

When we reached my apartment, Diana sat on the settee while I put the 
kettle on for coffee. I brought it in, and she was sitting there with 
her legs curled under her, as women do, looking like a cuddly toy. I sat 
down in an armchair, until Diana said "No, Steven, come and sit by me." 
So I sat next to her, and she started telling me about Valkyries. 

"We start off with bigger, thicker bones" she said. She held out her 
wrist, and we compared. Hers looked about half an inch wider than mine. 
"About 25% thicker, about 60% more cross-section." I could just about 
get my thumb and finger round my own wrist, but I was a few inches short 
on hers. I tried to get my hand round her wrist in several ways, but 
failed every time. She could wrap her long fingers round my wrist, 
though. And when we compared hand-span with outstretched fingers, she was 
an inch or so more than me. 

Then she explained about the tendons. "The tendons connect the muscles 
to the bones. Roll up your sleeve, Steven" I did, and she held my 
forearm while I bent my elbow. "You see the tendon, that cord in the 
crook of your elbow?" Actually, all I could think of was the feel of her 
hand on my arm, cool and dry, firm but gentle. Could she really break 
six inch nails with those hands? 

"My tendons attach twice as far away from the joint, so I get twice the 
leverage that you get" she explained. "Would you like to see?" Would I! 
You bet I would. 

Before she could roll up her sleeve, she had to take off her jacket. 
There are two ways a woman can remove an article of clothing, and Diana 
made it clear she was going for the striptease method. First, she stood 
up, and turned to face me. Then she loosened the sleeves. Then she 
pushed it off one shoulder, then the other, then slowly peeled it down 
till it got as far as her waist. Then she pulled her left arm out of the 
sleeve, then the right, and she let her jacket fall to the carpet. 
Underneath she was still fully clothed, wearing the cashmere sweater. 
Somehow, I'd expected her to be naked. She sat down again, facing me. 

I didn't know where to look. There isn't any one particular part of a 
woman's body that turns me on, but Diana seemed to have everything, and 
so well synchronised. Her body was wider and deeper than I would expect 
in a woman, but everything was in proportion. Without her jacket on, the 
sweater clung softly to her body, and I could see that her shoulders 
were wider than I'd thought. You know how women wear padding in jackets 
to make their shoulders look bigger (and for some reason, men don't, 
you'd think it would be the other way round). Diana didn't wear padding, 
she didn't need to. I won't say she had shoulders like a linebacker, but 
I'd guess she could get through most defenses with them. She certainly 
got through mine. 

But I didn't stare at her shoulders for long. There were much more 
interesting things to look at a bit lower down. Diana has always 
described her breasts as "adequate", and now I was discovering the 
meaning of "British understatement". Yes, they were adequate, but they 
were adequate for anything you might think of. In fact, they were so 
adequate, I started getting feelings of inadequacy. 

It's rude to stare at a woman's breasts, so I tore my gaze away from 
them, and looked up into her face. She smiled, and said "Don't worry, 
I'm used to that reaction." She told me that one of her standard 
negotiation ploys, was to take off her jacket. "If I do it right, and 
I'm wearing a silk blouse underneath, there isn't a man in the room 
thinking clearly". I can believe it. I tried to imagine her in a silk 
blouse. It was a very pleasant image. 

She rolled up her left sleeve, to just above the elbow. I was half-
expecting to see a big bulging forearm, but I was disappointed. Maybe a 
bit meatier than the usual skinny woman's arm, but no obvious muscle or 
veins. "Look" she said, and bent her elbow. "Now you do the same." 

Right inside my elbow, I could just about see the tendon linking the 
bicep to the forearm bone. Then I looked at her, and the cord was very 
pronounced. "That's because it attaches further down" she explained. 
"More leverage. Go, on, feel it." My fingers touched the soft skin 
inside her elbow, and stroked it slightly. I looked back to her face, 
and she was still smiling. Then she put her hand to the crook of my 
elbow, and her cool fingers stroked my skin. I almost shivered with 
pleasure. "You see how your tendon is almost invisible?" she asked, 
still caressing the skin. I nodded, almost beyond words. "It might not 
look like much of a difference, but twice the leverage means twice the 
power." I swallowed hard, hoping that she wouldn't notice the bulge in 
my trousers. 

Diana: 

He was so sweet, my male Valkyrie, so soft and delicate. He had a raging 
erection from the moment I took my jacket off, and stroking the inside 
of his arm made it ten times worse. I persuaded him to touch my arm, and 
we spent several minutes on this erotic foreplay. Then I moved him 
forward. 

Steven: 

I could have spent the whole evening just touching her inner elbow. That 
might sound a bit wimpy, but you've never met Diana the Valkyrie. And she was 
doing the same to me, and it felt like heaven. 

Her skin was silky and warm, her arm smooth and round. I asked her why 
she didn't have the vascularity and bulges I would have expected, and 
she laughed, and told me that you only get like that if you starve 
yourself so much that the natural subcutaneous fat disappears, and since 
she wasn't competing in anorexia competitions, she had no reason to. 
"Women have a thin layer of fat under the skin, and Valkyries do too, 
pretty much the same. I know some people like the skin-muscle-and-bones 
look, but it isn't for me." 

Then she tensed her arm, and the tendon on her elbow stood out, hard and 
clear. When I did the same, there was hardly anything to see. She 
stroked inside my arms and said "You see? Mine are attached a bit 
differently, so I get more leverage." 

I offered to arm wrestle her again, and she chuckled. "Oh, Steven, you 
men are all the same. As soon as you meet a girl you want to start 
wrestling with her. But I'll tell you what." "What?" "What you really 
want is to feel how strong I am, right?" I blushed. Was I really that 
transparent? "You sit there, sweetie, just for a moment." 

She stood up and faced me, hand on her hips, looking magnificent as she 
stood over me. Then she bent towards me, and I felt her hands on my 
waist, tight, but not painfully so. Before I could guess what she had in 
mind, she'd bent down, put her shoulder in my belly, and straightened 
still gripping me. 

But she didn't stop with me on her shoulder. I continued to rise as her 
arms straightened, and then suddenly it felt like I was flying. I felt a 
bump on my back, my head hit something hard, and then I was falling 
again. Her hands were around my waist again, guiding me back to the 
settee. I bounced when I landed. She sat down next to me and started to 
tidy her hair. 

I was confused. "Diana, what happened just then?" She turned and 
regarded me, still brushing her hair. "Diana, I bumped my head on 
something hard." She frowned. "Oh dear, I hope I didn't hurt you. That 
was the ceiling, you were lighter than I expected." I looked up, at the 
ceiling, eight feet above the floor. I bumped my head on that? Then I 
turned to look at the lovely girl who had just tossed me in the air. "I 
think I'm beginning to understand what a Valkyrie is," I said. Diana 
finished tidying her hair and turned to face me. "There's one more 
difference". "What's that?" "I'll show you." 

Diana: 

I'm a terrible show-off. I should never have chucked him in the air, I 
did it too hard and he bounced off the ceiling, and I only just managed 
to catch him as he fell. If I'd missed, it would have been awful, he'd 
have fallen eight feet to the floor, and I'd have had to take him off to 
hospital. Not a good start to a relationship. Just as well I didn't 
miss! 

But as he sat beside me now, I could feel his body trembling from the 
shock of being hurled into the air, and I cursed myself for giving in 
to his desire for a display of strength. I was trying to create a warm 
cuddly impression and then I had to go and do a thing like that! But I 
had a fair idea of how to recover the situation. 

"It's the two inch layer of muscle that covers our bodies," and I 
started to pull my sweater out from the waistband of my skirt. It didn't 
take long for me to reveal several inches of skin, and then I asked 
Steven to feel me there. He seemed reluctant, so I took his hand in 
mine, and put it on my belly. "Feel it, rub it." He probed with his 
fingers. "Harder, Steven, try to push it in." He pushed with his 
fingers, but couldn't dent the hard muscles that a Valkyrie has there. 
"Wow, Diana that is *hard*" he said. I smiled dreamily and relaxed. I 
felt that Steven wasn't any kind of threat, I had the impression that he 
wouldn't want to hurt me even if he could, and he was only trying 
because he knew he couldn't. "Steven, would you like me to see if I can 
do that to you?" He grinned, and said "I know perfectly well you don't 
mean that, Diana, you're just winding me up again, aren't you?" 

I put my hands behind my head, leaned back and closed my eyes. "Mmmm, 
feels good." He wasn't trying to get through my armour now, he was just 
using his hands to please me. He was stroking my belly, using his 
fingertips to barely touch my skin. I almost purred, and deep inside of 
me, something stirred. If this was what a male Valkyrie was like, then I 
was glad I'd gone to the trouble of finding him. 

Then his hands went round the sides of my waist, stroking, caressing, 
and I wriggled with pleasure. I lifted my arms out of his way so he 
could get better access, and he moved his hands up higher on my waist, 
moving towards my armpits. On the way up, he suddenly froze. "Diana, 
you're not wearing a bra!" "No, Steven, so what?" "Well, erm, um..." 

Of course. One of those cultural differences. Americans have a very 
different culture from we British. I know there's a deep language 
problem, especially in the sexual field. There are certain words that 
Americans regard as "dirty" and are very shocked when they are used. 
Words like "sex" and "erotic" for example, may not be used when you 
create a Member Room on AOL. Why? I have no idea. It's their culture, 
and we must accept that they are entitled to their local customs. The 
problem I have, is adapting to it, because no-one will tell you what the 
forbidden words are, and you only find out when you get a shocked 
silence, or "ooh, she said 'pole'" which happened to me once. So I don't 
use the word "pole" to Americans, and I have no idea why! 

Anyhow, they also have a strange attitude to items of clothing. And bras 
are one of the taboos. Apparently, not wearing one signifies something, 
but no-one is willing to explain to me what it signifies. You have no 
idea how *frustrating* it is to be in a position when a roomful of 
people are staring at you because you haven't got any socks on, or 
you're wearing your wristwatch on the wrong wrist and that means you're 
making some statement that you're not even aware of. 

Anyway, from Steven's reaction, he obviously thought I was making some 
statement, and from the nature of his reaction, it was obviously a 
sexual statement, and clearly he thought it was very positive. So I 
thought I'd better enlighten him. 

"Steven, where I come from, in my culture, socks are optional. You don't 
have to wear socks if you don't feel like it, and no-one thinks it means 
anything." "Well, sure" he said. "Sometimes I pad around without any 
socks on, I might even pop down to the Laundromat that way." "OK. Well, 
Steven, in my culture, bras are optional. If you don't feel like wearing 
one, you don't have to, and it doesn't mean a thing, just like your 
socks." His face fell. "You mean you're not ..." "Not what, Steven?" 
"Well. I mean, I thought. I mean you're not ..." Exasperating man. "Not 
what" Steven, I said, a bit more irritatedly than I meant to. "Not 
available." 

Ah. He thought that no bra meant easy virtue. Right, that explains a lot 
of things. "Steven, I might or might not be available, and I might or 
might not be available to *you*. Or, to be more precise, you might or 
might not get lucky. But the bra has nothing to do with it, and 
availability aside, I'm not easy. I'm quite hard, in fact." "Yes, I 
know, I just felt that. Hard as rock, Diana, you're hard as nails." 
"Only on the outside, Steven. They say that a Valkyrie has three soft 
places; her hair, her heart and we might or might not discuss the third 
place later." He nodded. "None of the Valkyries I know usually wears a 
bra. When you have a couple of inches thick layer of solid muscle up 
there, you certainly don't need one." He nodded, still disappointed 
after getting his hopes up. So I raised my arms and tangled them up in 
my hair, and said "So where were we?" 

And my sweet male Valkyrie, my Valkyrus went back into action. His hands 
were soft and gentle on my waist and belly, and worked their way up to 
my sides and his soft fingers nestled in my armpits, sending shivers of 
delight into my brain. Then he got closer, and his hands went round my 
waist and met behind my back, and roamed up and down my backbone, 
sending messages of erotic sensation everywhere they touched. It was 
wonderful, in fact it got too wonderful, I couldn't take it any more, 
and I had to hold his hands in mine to stop him while I recovered my 
poise. "Oh, Steven you're good, you're very good." He tried to pull his 
hands away, but I wouldn't let him, and he didn't try very hard. I think 
he'd learned that a man should surrender to a Valkyrie very readily, 
that struggling is futile at best, and at worst could get him hurt. 

So then he tried to wrestle with me, but I could tell he wasn't trying 
very hard, and he was so sweet, so sexually aroused, so I let him push 
me over on my back and we fell off the settee, but I made sure I was 
underneath when we fell so he wouldn't get hurt, and then he pinned me 
to the floor and counted me out. "So what have you won?" I asked. "A 
kiss" he said, "And now I'm going to take it, by force." And he lay on 
top of me and we kissed, for the first time. 


"I love you, Diana the Valkyrie. I love your powerful body, I love your 
sparkling wit, I love your golden hair, I love your physical strength, I 
love your self-confidence ... I love you." "Oh, Steven, you're so sweet" 
and I kissed him again. Of course. "You know when I fell in love with 
you, Diana?" he whispered in my ear. "Mmm?" "Just now, when you let me 
defeat you in combat." 

We were lying on the floor, me underneath, him on top on my body. I 
brought my legs up until I had one on each side of his waist. "You 
defeated me?" I said, just letting him know they were there. "I 
surrender" he said. "Do you know what I can do with these?" I asked. "I 
yield, I give, I capitulate" he said. I gave him a little friendly 
squeeze, and said "Diana the Valkyrie graciously accepts your 
unconditional surrender." "Unconditional?" he said. "Unconditional" I 
said, giving him an even friendlier squeeze. "I don't know about the 
'unconditional'", he said. "Unconditional", I repeated firmly, and 
giving him a *very* friendly squeeze. 

"All right, all right, you have my unconditional surrender." "Good! 
Right, then, it's payback time." "Payback for what?" "Payback for that 
kiss you stole." "Stole? It was mine by right?" "By what right? By the 
right of conquest" he said. "Exactly. And now it's round two." I pulled 
his face towards me and gave him a long, gentle kiss, and our tongues 
jousted briefly before mine subdued his. 

He was something special, my Valkyrus. And while we necked and love-
played on the carpet, I was thinking about the main question - should I 
or shouldn't I? Of course I wanted to. And I didn't have any moral or 
ethical problems. But I did have a practical issue. 

You see, it was just possible, just maybe, that this was it. That this 
Valkyrus was the soul mate I'd been looking for. In which case, it would 
be foolish to spoil everything for the sake of a quick fuck. Oh I 
forgot, Americans don't like that word - well tough. If you don't like 
it, call it Rumpty Tumpty. Just assume I'm speaking a foreign language 
that you have to translate. So - should I or shouldn't I?

Steven: 

At first, when I managed to wrestle her to the ground, I was a bit 
disappointed. But not for long; it occurred to me that she let me win. 
Women do that sort of thing, and Diana was no exception. Well, if I was 
a winner, I'd claim a prize, and my prize was the sweetest kiss I've 
ever wrestled for. And it was in the middle of that kiss that I realised 
that I'd do anything for Diana, Diana the Valkyrie, my Lady, my 
Love. Yes, my love. Because maybe she didn't love me (although she 
obviously liked me) but I certainly loved her, and maybe, possibly, one 
day? 

And then those great powerful thighs rose up and surrounded my waist, 
and I knew instinctively the right thing to do when a Valkyrie threatens 
you with her legs, and that is instant, total surrender. After 
displaying the power of her legs to me a few times, and showing me that 
my body was hers to do with as she wished, she graciously allowed me to 
surrender to her without putting me through the pain and humiliation 
that I knew she could dispense. 

And then while I was still on top of her, she put those powerful legs 
around me, held me tight in her strong arms, and kissed me. And there 
was absolutely no doubt in my mind who was in control. I willingly 
surrendered to her power and dominance, I wanted nothing more than the 
opportunity to give her pleasure and my loyalty. 

But she didn't use her power over me to shame and hurt me, she used it 
to arouse and tantalise me, to excite and seduce me, to turn my body and 
mind to mush. And I knew that no ordinary woman would ever be sufficient 
again, that I would either be the soul mate of a Valkyrie or else alone 
forever. And this sweet gentle Valkyrie was all I ever wanted, was all I 
had ever been waiting for, and was all I would ever want. 

Diana: 

It's nice, rolling around on a carpet with a lovely Valkyrus. And he was 
enjoying it too; you can always tell when a man is having a good time. 
But he was so timid, so cautious about making the running, I knew that I 
had to be strong enough for both of us, and I had to do so without 
scaring him off. 

I knew we were rapidly getting to the point of no return. Normally, I'd 
have the trousers off by now, but Steven was special, and I wanted to 
explore the possibility of a long-term relationship with him. And that 
didn't mean a quick roll in bed. By now, I'd decided that if I bedded 
him on our first date, then I'd own his body, but what I really wanted 
was his heart. And maybe I'd fall in love myself - who can tell? But 
these things need time to ripen, which is why humans have such long 
elaborate courtship rituals, and I felt that Steven and I needed to go 
through that stage. Which meant that fucking him was a no-no. 

Still, I couldn't just stand up, put my jacket back on and walk out. I'd 
gotten him into such a state, I had to do something to get him down from 
the ceiling. 

So I did something I'm quite good at, but don't often do. He was already 
as hard as a rock, well one part of him was. Our wrestling, kissing and 
other foreplay activities had left him in a state of high arousal. So I 
kept my body close against his, wiggled myself a little to maintain the 
tension, and talked him through an orgasm. 

You think it's difficult for a woman to do that? You're wrong, thousands 
of phone-sex companies are based on the fact that just about any woman 
knows how to do his, and some of them are willing to do it for complete 
strangers. 

So we lay on the carpet, my delectable Valkyrus helpless on top of me, 
as I talked him into, then through, an orgasm. He struggled a bit, he 
didn't want it that way, but a man does whatever a Valkyrie commands, 
and when eventually I told him to come, he came. And then I told him to 
continue the orgasm, his body continued to obey me, and when he wanted 
his orgasm to stop, I didn't, and I wrapped my powerful arms and legs 
around him and told him to go on and on having spasms of joy, and his 
body recognised that it was overpowered, and continued to obey me. 

The impact of the orgasm had the usual effect; the dear boy passed out 
in my arms. So I picked him up, stripped off his clothes,  removed his 
wet underpants, and carried him into his bed. He'd wake up in the 
morning, and work out what had happened. On the way back, I picked up my 
jacket and handbag, and went out to call a taxi. 

The next day I was back in England, and it was so nice to be home. 
Except I was already missing my sweet Valkyrus. By the time I'd gotten 
my computer on-line, there were three emails waiting for me from my love, 
and I answered them and went to bed. 

Next day, I rushed round to tell Judy and Michael all about it. "So you 
see, Judy, there are male Valkyries. We were looking for the wrong 
characteristics. They aren't big hulking musclemen, that's not what we 
should be looking for. The Valkyrus is weak and not strong, soft and not 
hard, tender and helpless, but intelligent and witty and sexy and utterly, 
hopelessly in love with his Valkyrie." 

Judy smiled at me, and put an arm round Michael, protectively. "Yes, 
Diana. I know." 



Diana the Valkyrie 
Email me at valkyrie@thevalkyrie.com
Or via alt.amazon-women.admirers