Hockey Night in America
by pk4hz600@hotmail.com
A hockey and wrestling star finds out that women can be athletic, too.  And then some.

please e-mail me with comments:  pk4hz600@hotmail.com 

Nate was having a stellar day on the ice.  His team was ahead 4-3 with 
just a coule of minutes left in their law league semi-final playoff 
game, and he had scored two goals and had an assist on the night.  He'd 
had a fantastic season for the team sponsored by his law firm, where he 
was a rising star in his third year out of law school, but tonight was 
unlike any other.  His passing was crisper than ever and he felt like he 
could cleanly knock a cigarette out of the goaltender's mouth with his 
slapshot.  His goals tonight had been stunning wrist shots that had made 
the small crowd go wild. 

He took a pass at the blue line and started to skate down the left 
boards. Ahead of him he saw a weak defender that he'd been dominating 
all night, and his eyes got wide.  Anticipating the hat trick, he made a 
move to the right when all of a sudden he got hit by something that felt 
like a fire truck.  He was thrown back into the boards - his whole body 
was flying through the air for a bit - and hit the wall with a painful 
thud.  A bit groggy, he looked up and saw #13 white standing over his 
body - he had no idea who it was, but he was pissed. 

He got to his feet quickly.  "Hey you ass, this is a no check league."  
Nate grabbed #13 by the jersey.  "You want me to teach you a lesson, 
punk?"  He dropped his gloves and took a swing, and #13 blocked the 
punch and, dropping his own gloves, grabbed Nate by the jersey and 
ripped off Nate's masked helmet.  #13 started punching Nate in the face 
while he futilely tried to protect himself, and then, as if sensing that 
damage was being done, heaved Nate by the shoulderpads, sending him to 
the ground.  The ref then stepped in and put his body above Nate's to 
prevent any further fighting.  Nate looked up and #13 just skated away.  
As convention for the league, the loser of a fight gets a major penalty 
while the winner walks free, so the ref helped Nate up and led him to 
the penalty box where Nate had to sit for the last minute and a half of 
the game. 

And during that time, his worst nightmare happened.  About ten seconds 
into the penalty, #13 took the puck all the way from his own zone, 
weaving around Nate's teammates and took a stellar slapshot that went 
right through the goalie's five hole to tie up the score.  Then with 
fifteen seconds left, #13 scored on a wrist shot to win the game, and 
Nate's season was over.  His last memory of the season would be losing a 
fight badly to someone whose identity he still didn't know and then 
watching helplessly as his team blew the game. 

Needless to say, Nate was pissed.  While his opponents were mobbing #13 
with congratulations, Nate was a pariah on his own team, despite his 
stellar performance before the fight.  He had to get back some of his 
manhood.  He jumped out of the penalty box and skated over to where the 
team was celebrating, intending to pop #13 in the nose.  He pushed 
several opponents out of the way to get to the center of the group and 
spotted #13 in the middle.  #13 looked over at him and removed the 
masked helmet that shielded recognition. 

Nate stopped in his tracks.  Before him stood a woman of perfect facial 
beauty, with perhaps the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen and 
long curly brown hair which spilled out of her helmet and fell down her 
shoulderpads. 

She eyed him up and down, smiled and then spoke to him in a breathy 
voice.  "You look ready to attack me.  I wouldn't recommend it, sport."  
Then she turned away and skated off the rink. 

The ice cleared and Nate just stood there and considered what had 
happened to him.  He'd been checked off his skates by this stunning 
woman, then he'd lost a fight to her without even getting a good shot 
in, then lost the game because of her goals, and finally, to cap off the 
humiliation, she totally verbally punked him in front of all of the 
other men on the team.  He didn't think there were any women in the 
league - the level of play was just too high for women, or so he 
thought.  He stood for several minutes until the ref came up to him and 
put his arm on his shoulderpads. 

"She's beaten a lot of men much bigger than you on the ice, buddy.  I 
wouldn't be too worried about it." 

"Do you know who she is?" 

"She works over at Reed, Wilson and Connelly.  Her name's Trisha 
Stevens.   And she's a hell of a hockey player and one tough cookie, 
which I guess you already know.  You'd better get going, the Zamboni's 
coming on the ice." 

"Thanks."  Nate went to the locker room, and when he entered the room 
suddenly went silent.  He sat down in front of his bag and started to 
remove his skates, when one of his teammates named Jim threw a towel to 
him and blurted out, "Hey Nate, when you leave maybe you should wear 
that towel as a skirt - I don't think you'll be needing pants anymore!" 
The comment brought a roar of laughter from the team, and Nate played 
along with a polite laugh, but inside he was fuming. He showered and 
changed pretty quickly, gathered up his equipment and left the locker 
room. 

As he was leaving the rink, he heard that breathy voice behind him. 

"Hey, sport." 

Nate stopped cold; the voice was already having an effect on him.  He 
turned around and laid his eyes upon her.  She was bundled up for the 
cold, so he couldn't get a good look at her body, but her face was even 
more stunning than it appeared to be on the ice.  Her bright blue eyes 
peered into his soul perhaps one inch below his own 5'11". 

"I'm sorry I took you down so hard today.  I guess it was kind of a 
cheap shot, but you were just slicing through us all day and I had to 
get you out of there. No hard feelings, ok?"  She stepped toward him and 
extended her hand for a conciliatory shake. 

Nate paused for a second and extended his hand in return, gripping hers 
and responding, "It was a great hit, though.  And you followed it up 
with some nice play of your own.  Where did you learn to fight like 
that?" 

He released his grip but she still held his hand in hers while she 
continued. "Oh, you know, around."  She squeezed his hand harder for 
just a second, which brought a wince of pain to Nate's face, and then 
released him, and he rubbed his hand for a second.  "I'm Trisha.  What's 
your name?" 

"Nate Peters.  It's a pleasure." 

"Nate, I really feel awful about how I treated you on the ice.  Let me 
buy you a beer tonight."  The statement wasn't so much a question as it 
was, well, Nate didn't quite know, but she picked up her hockey gear and 
took Nate by the arm and led him outside. 

Nate was attracted to this woman - who wouldn't be - but he had other 
plans to meet his team that night.  He tried to extract himself from her 
grip, but it was tight and he said "I appreciate it, but I have to meet 
my friends at McSorley's pub and..." 

Trisha dropped her bag and put her finger over Nate's mouth, saying 
"Shhhhhh. You'll enjoy me much more than your little friends."  She 
squeezed his elbow and Nate winced once again.  "Now come with me." 

Nate followed mostly because he was intrigued by her forcefulness and 
the remainder because he thought her face was just so beautiful he had 
to see what the rest of her looked like.  Nate got into his Jeep and a 
few seconds later a Mustang drove up beside him and SUCHANDSUCH opened 
the window.  "Try to keep up with me, Sport."  She sped off and Nate 
tore off after her.  They drove at ludicrous speed for about 10 minutes 
and stopped off at an old town pub called Woodpecker's. 

They sat down in a secluded circular booth, she ordered two beers for 
them, and they talked for a long while.  Nate talked about his college 
days, how he was an NCAA runner-up in wrestling, and how he still spent 
a lot of time doing athletic activities, like hockey and basketball in 
the winter and tennis during the summer.  Nate found out that she was 
indeed an attorney, and that she had attended Georgetown Law School 
where she graduated at the top of her class. While at Princeton 
undergrad, she played for the women's hockey, lacrosse and soccer teams 
and was the captain of hockey and lacrosse.  She hadn't really kept up 
with organized sports since graduating from undergrad, but had filled in 
the time by working out religiously, spending hours in the gym almost 
every day. She ran 10 miles four times a week, taught spinning classes 
on the weekends, and lifted weights every visit to the gym. 

"You mean the Nautilus machines, right?"  Nate asked. 

"Well, I use some of the Nautilus machines, like for leg extensions and 
the pulldown machines, but that's only because I can't use free weights 
for those exercises.  I use the free weights more often." 

"At my gym, not a lot of women use the free weights.  I sometimes see 
them using the five and ten pound weights for bicep curls, but usually 
no more.  There's one woman at the gym who's very strong, and she curls 
20 pound dumbbells, but she's an aberration." 

"What do you mean, 'aberration'?" 

"I just mean that women don't get strong like men do, unless they're 
some kind of genetic freak or miracle or something like that." 

"Do you really believe that?" 

"Don't get me wrong, I think a fit woman is the sexiest thing in the 
world.  But women and weights just don't mix well in general." 

"So you've never met a woman who was stronger than you." 

"Not that I know of, but I guess you never know how strong people are 
unless you either have a lifting contest or a wrestling contest, and I 
don't do that with women." 

"And if a woman challenged you?" 

"I guess I'd take it, but I'd take it easy on her.  But I have no doubt 
that I'd win." 

"How strong do you think I am?" 

Nate looked her over for a second and remembered how she'd laid him out 
with her check and then threw him down during the fight.  "Well, I know 
that you're athletic, so I'd guess that you could curl the 20 pound 
dumbbells." 

"And that's all." 

"I'd guess so.  Like I said, women just aren't built for strength." 

Trisha looked away and sighed "You're probably right.  Men are 
definitely the stronger sex, and men take control sexually, as well, 
right?"  She looked straight into Nate's eyes and captured his eyes in 
her gaze.  She slithered closer to him in the booth. 

Nate stammered, unsure of what she was getting at, but still responded 
to her question. "Well, yeah...I...you know, I guess so.  I think..." 

Trisha moved closer to him and put her hand on his inner thigh.  Nate 
stopped speaking, he was so nervous.  He couldn't remember ever being so 
nervous around a woman.  He attributed it to her odd line of 
questioning. 

Trisha smiled at him.  "Oh, please continue." 

Nate cleared his throat.  "Well, I think that women can't..." 

Trisha moved her hand up to his crotch and patted it.  He stopped 
talking again, and Trisha started to swirl her fingers around his cock, 
and pull at it through the fabric of his sweatpants.  "What was it that 
women can't do?" 

Nate was speechless.  This woman was being the aggressor, and it was an 
affront to his manhood.  But he liked it and didn't want her to stop.  
Her control of his cock was making him so so hard, and he could only 
reply with a deep, throaty sigh that bordered on a moan while he looked 
down at the movement of her hand. 

Trisha put a finger under his chin and pulled his face up so that he 
faced her. "That's what I thought, sport."  Keepin her gaze on his so 
that he didn't look away, she expertly opened his fly and reached her 
hand inside, grasping his rock hard unit and poking at his balls with 
her pinky finger.  Nate let out a moan that was just barely audible to 
the bartender, who looked over with a knowing smile and merely nodded to 
Trisha.  She pulled out his cock and started to stroke it, bringing him 
to the brink and then clutching it tightly to stem the flow.  She 
brought him to the brink again, and then once again shut him down. He 
was breathing in short, heavy gasps there at the table, and anyone who 
would have been looking at them would have known what was going on under 
the table, but they wouldn't have known the whole story. 

Grasping his chin in her other hand, she whispered to him, "I have a 
secret to tell you."  Releasing his chin, she bent her arm in front of 
him and flexed it. Her sweatshirt expanded noticeably.  "Feel my arm."  
He complied with his one hand, and after feeling the hardness of her 
muscle, put his other hand around it as well.  "I can curl more than 20 
pounds.  And you're going to find out just how much tonight." 

Nate squeezed and rubbed her hard arm while Trisha squeezed and rubbed 
his hard cock.  Trisha put her mouth to his ear and gave him a short but 
forceful order. "Let's go, now.  I'll drive."  Nate reached down to 
gather his turgid cock back into his pants and zip his fly, but Trisha 
grabbed his hands and kept them from achieving his goal.  "No, no, 
sport.  If you want to touch me, then I get to touch you whenever I 
want." 

"But, but not in public like this" he pleaded. 

"You know you love it, sport.  It's OK, I won't make a scene."  They 
stood up and she grabbed his cock again, and, as she promised, noone 
noticed.  Nate reached for his wallet and pulled out some money, and 
Trisha said, "Wait, we don't know how much the bill is." 

"It's OK, I'll just leave a twenty.  We don't need to ask..." 

Trisha yelled out to the bartender, "Hey, what's the damage over here?" 

The bartender looked over and his jaw dropped.  Other customers also 
looked over and a silence fell over the bar. Nate was horrified.  He 
grabbed her arm to pull her outside, but she flexed her bicep and did 
not budge. Unable to move this woman who held his cock in her hand in 
full view of the bar, he lowered his head in utter shame. 

The bartender, still slackjawed at the spectacle, said "Looks like the 
only damage is to his ego.  It's on the house." 

Trisha smiled.  "Thanks so much."  Then she looked at Nate and gave a 
little tug on his penis and smiled at him.  She proclaimed to the bar, 
"Come on Nate, we're going."  Then, still holding on to his cock, she 
pulled him out of the bar.  As the door closed, Nate could hear a roar 
of laughter from inside. 

Trisha continued to tug on his cock and led Nate to her car.  "You 
promised you wouldn't make a scene" Nate complained. 

Trisha squeezed his cock and Nate winced.  "If I want to make a scene 
with you, you'll know it.  She unlocked the door to her mustang, and 
ordered him to get in. 

"What about my car?" 

"I'll come and get it later while you're tied up." 

"What does that mean?" 

"You'll find out, now get in."  She led Nate around to the passenger 
side, pushed his head down and stuffed him inside, carefully placing the 
seatbelt over him so the lap belt was pushing his cock onto his stomach.  
She poked at its head and giggled "He looks comfy." Then she got in the 
car and raced off to her house, which took about 5 minutes. 

She drove up to her driveway and screeched to a halt, which threw Nate 
forward a bit and put tremendous pressure on his rock hard penis, 
causing another wince. "Don't move" she ordered, and she got out ofthe 
car, walked around to the passenger's side, opened the door and 
carefully unbuckled Nate to release him from the car.  Then, she pulled 
him out of the car, grabbed his cock again, and led him to the front 
door of her two-story house.  He was still rock solid hard. 

"Do you own this house?" 

"Yes, and I expect any man that wants to be with me to move in here.  
You might call it the 'price of entry.'" 

Inside, she threw her bags on the ground and took off her coat, and led 
him to a door which led to a staircase heading down to what Nate assumed 
was a cellar. 

"Do I get a tour?" 

"I'll carry you around later."  She tugged on his penis and walked down 
the stairs, and he followed his penis in her grasp.  When she reached 
the bottom, she released him from her hand. 

Downstairs Trisha had a large blue mat that immediately reminded Nate of 
his old wrestling mats from college.  Trisha walked to the other end of 
the mat while Nate regarded the room, and what his presence there 
implied.  "Is this a regulation mat?  What is it doing here." 

Trisha ignored his question, leaned over and pulled open a small drawer 
in the corner, taking out two garments, one red and one blue.  She threw 
the red garment over to Nate. 

"Put this on." 

Nate opened the garment and held it in front of him - it was a wrestling 
one-piece uniform, like he used to wear in competitions.  "What is this 
for?" 

"I thought you were a smart boy.  Isn't it obvious?" 

"You want to WRESTLE?" 

"That's right, sport.  I'm challenging you to a test of strength, and I 
don't think you'll be taking it easy on me for very long." 


"Well, what's in it for me.  The times I've wrestled women before I 
always had a ... prize ... in mind, if you know what I mean."  He looked 
over her in her bulky sweatshirt and sweatpants, and figured she had a 
fit toned body underneath that could fuck like a racehorse, and he 
wanted at it. 

"OK, sport, if you win, you can have me all night and I'll do whatever 
your heart desires." 

Nate smiled broadly.  "And if you win?" He laughed with a scoff. 

"When I win you'll be doing what I want anyway.  I don't need anything 
else." 

"So this is just one pin, right?" 

"No.  Pins don't count in my house." 

"Then how do we know who wins?  Do you have a referee hidden in here 
who'll tally points?" 

"I don't need a referee. You lose when you quit, you surrender.  When 
you admit that no matter how hard you try, how long you try, you'll just 
never beat me. Then I'll be declared the winner." 

"What a great imagination you have." 

"Now change into your little outfit."  She turned around and walked 
behind a japanese screen and turned on a bright light which illuminated 
the outside and cast her shadow on the thin paper.  He stared at her 
shadow while he stripped down to nothing, as he used to during his 
competitive days.  He watched her wiggle out of her clothes and into the 
wrestling tights, and he wished the screen weren't in the way, 
especially because the screen seemed to be distorting her shape.  She 
looked a little big in relief.  He put that flaw out of his mind, and 
pulled on the tights, but when they were on he noticed that there was a 
tear in the crotch, and his penis was hanging out.  He adjusted the 
tights so that they held in his penis, but it wasn't holding all that 
well.  He reached down to feel the tear, and was surprised and confused 
to find that the edges of the hole were perfectly sewn, like a shirt 
sleeve or leg hole.  Disregarding this irregularity, he stuffed his 
penis snugly inside the tights so that it didn't hang out of the hole 
and before he looked up heard the breathy voice again. 

"That's not the right way to wear it."  Nate looked up and across the 
room he saw her for the first time without bulky clothing.  He hadn't 
noticed that her thick neck flared out with large traps to wide, large, 
round shoulders.  He hadn't noticed full, thick pecs with a perfectly 
straight and deep chasm right down the center.  He hadn't noticed huge, 
well-muscled arms, with both separation in her upper arm that made the 
muscles appear larger than life and striation in her forearms that put 
his own to shame.  He hadn't noticed the flaring lats that tapered down 
to a tiny, obviously hard waist.  He hadn't noticed the long, muscular 
thighs, bulging with corded muscle, tapering down in tear drops to her 
knees, then flaring out again with thick, shapely calves.  He hadn't 
noticed any of these things, but he couldn't help but notice them now 
because she walked towards him with an obviously solid intent. 

He stood perfectly still as she walked towards him.  He just couldn't 
move because he didn't want his eyeballs to deviate for a second from 
the vision of her muscled body slithering his way.  The way her legs 
bunched and split with each step, the way her broad shoulders swayed, 
and the way her breasts bounced just slightly, held back by the 
wrestling tights that looked better on her than on any opponent he'd 
ever faced.  She finally reached him and reached for his crotch.  He 
grabbed her by the wrist to stop her advance, but she grabbed for his 
cock easily despite his attempt.  Pulling the fabric away from his skin, 
she reached inside and pulled his cock through the hole, allowing it to 
dangle in the open air. 

"This is the way you're supposed to wear it, so I can see the reaction 
I'm getting from you."  She tickled the underside of his penis and his 
testicles with her fingers and it started to grow in her hand.  "That's 
what I like to see.  Now let's get started.  Let me tell you the house 
rules."  She pulled him by his growing member into the center of the 
mat, inside of the painted ring, and he obediently followed. 

Nate was so confused by everything that had transpired.  He had always 
been the dominant partner in his relationships, but this woman was so 
different.  She had taken control from the very beginning, in 
conversation and in physical force. But he hadn't even fought to wrest 
control from her, even though he was still convinced, despite her 
powerful appearance, that he was stronger than she and that he could 
defeat her handily in wrestling.  She was pulling him around by his 
cock, for goodness sake, and he wasn't even putting up a fight to stop 
her! But he was mesmerized by her beauty and her uniqueness among all 
the women he'd been with and even met, and that prevented him from 
calling the whole thing off. So he continued to play along. 

Once in the center of the ring, she released his cock and explained the 
house rules to Nate.  They would start from a standing position.  There 
would be no scratching, punching or biting.  Other than those two, 
anything goes.  All wrestling would take place inside of the ring.  
Going outside the ring in the course of the match would result in a 
restart in standard wrestling ground position, with the most recent 
controller on top.  Going outside the ring on purpose would result in 15 
seconds of spanking and then a restart from the ground position.  A pin 
would not constitute a victory - a victory would be called the moment a 
competitor says "I surrender."  Those words, and only those words, would 
call the match. 

"Sounds fair to me.  I especially like the spanking rule." 

"I don't care if it sounds fair to you - those are my rules.  And I 
don't think you'll like the spanking rule much once you start running 
away from me." 

"Anything you say, Trisha." 

"So are you ready sport?" 

"Yes." 

"Then good luck to you.  You'll need it."  She extended her hand to 
shake his in a traditional pre-wrestling gesture, and Nate took her hand 
in a shake.  She squeezed firmly and Nate was surprised at the power she 
could bring to bear, and he squeezed back, but couldn't match her 
pressure and his hand started to throb from the pain.  She continued to 
increase the pressure on his hand and he began to sweat from the pain. 
Her forearms were bulging with power, and finally he blurted out "Hey, 
what are you doing?" 

She released his hand.  "Just showing you what you're up against.  
Ready, set, go." 

They circled the mat, regarding each other.  Nate's expression was 
thoughtful, serious.  Her latest taunt, squeezing his hand, had sent him 
past the point of "taking it easy."  He was determined to show his 
skills and make her submit quickly and decisively.  Trisha's expression, 
on the other hand, was calm and capped with a devious smile.  Nate 
reached his hand out to her shoulder several times to start a grapple, 
but each time Trisha slapped it away with a frightfully fast slap.  Nate 
was tentative.  "Why am I being so tentative?"  he thought.  "I'm 
definitely stronger than she is and a much better wrestler." 

Trisha gave a giggle.  "I like watching your cock wiggle when you move.   
I'm going to have a lot of fun using it later." 

This comment really angered Nate, and he reached for her shoulders again 
with greater strength.  As he neared her body, she grabbed one of his 
arms and pulled hard.  He lurched forward, off balance, and she stepped 
to the side and reached her other hand down to the front of his knees.  
As he moved past her, she lifted his knee and, using perfect leverage, 
flipped him over onto his back.  He laid there for a second, a bit 
dazed, and she stood over him but did not continue her attack. 

"Are you ready to surrender now?" 



"Stupid."  he thought to himself.  "Too aggressive.  Remember your 
leverage." Nate arose and got back into his attack posture. 

"Lucky move.  No way you do that again." 

"Sounds like a challenge to me."  Trisha went on the offensive this time 
reaching for his arm.  He tried to slip his leg between hers to get her 
off balance, but she grabbed his arm too quickly and gave another yank, 
once again using her other hand to flip him through the air and onto his 
back.  She put a foot on his chest to hold him down. 

"How about now?" 

Nate grabbed her foot and gave it a strong twist, and Trisha was turned 
around and lost her balance, falling to her front.  Nate jumped quickly 
on the attack, relishing the opportunity to mount her and push her into 
total submission.  He got onto her back and slipped his right arm under 
her armpit and over her neck, placing her in a half nelson, a move which 
in his college days spelled doom for an opponent.  His legs were 
straddling hers, sprawled out to maintain maximum leverage.  He started 
to put pressure on her neck and attempt to turn her over, but she spread 
her limbs out wide to prevent it, an excellent counter maneuver. To 
counter her move, he jumped off her and laid out to her right side, 
still holding the half nelson, and placed his left arm through her legs 
and around to her front, put his head into her side and pushed, trying 
to fold her and make the turn inevitable.  While he struggled to budge 
her, he felt a pulsation on his left arm.  She was flexing her leg 
muscles on his arm!  "Is this girl really trying?" he thought.  To make 
matters worse, the intermittent pressure was very painful.  He started 
to imagine that his cock was between her legs, and she was using her leg 
muscles to milk his manhood to total ecstasy, and the thought was very 
arousing.  His penis, still hanging outside of his tights, started to 
harden.  He's heard that women's legs could get extraordinarily strong, 
so he realized he had to get his arm out of there, and was able to do so 
with some effort. 

He got back to his original position on top of her and spread eagled his 
legs to get his leverage back.  He slipped his left arm through her 
armpit and got her in a full nelson to immobilize her while he figured 
out his next move. 

"I see I'm getting the reaction I expected" Trisha said calmly.  "You 
can poke all you want.  I like it."  Using perfect muscle control, she 
opened up her butt cheeks a bit and Nate's throbbing cock fell inside 
the crack.  Then she used her rock hard muscular ass to squeeze his 
cock, using intermittent bursts to create a pulsating feeling for Nate.  
Nate started to moan a bit from the erotic feeling.  He wanted right 
then and there to thrust his cock into her and be enveloped by her ass 
muscles.  With his penis trapped, he was at a loss for what his next 
move would be - he already had her in a full nelson, but what would come 
next.  He continued to pause. 

Trisha moved her arms a bit.  "You're taking too long, sport."  She 
lowered her arms to push-up position and narrowed her legs a bit.  Still 
in the full nelson, and with Nate's weight fully on her back, she 
performed a classic pushup, and then got on her knees for better 
leverage.  "I don't want any complaints about what I'm about to do" she 
declared, and released his cock from her ass prison. Despite his 
attempts to hold her down, she stood up with him still on her back, but 
he held on to the full nelson using the little leverage he maintained 
from his inch height advantage.  "I'm tired of your puny hold" she 
stated and lowered her arms, in the process her large, muscular biceps 
forced his arms down as well, and he lost his full nelson trap.  She 
held his arms at her sides, grabbed his right hand in her left and with 
a torque of her torso, flipped him over her right side and onto the mat.  
She jumped onto him, locking him in a crushing cradle hold and pinning 
him wrestling-style. 

Nate was desperate to get loose.  He was trying to kick his legs out, 
but the strength of his two legs was insufficient to move her one arm.  
He tried to lengthen his neck but had even less luck with that maneuver.  
Trisha, sensing his panic, calmly started to count the pin:  
"One...two...three..."  Nate was struggling for all he was worth.  
Trisha continued for good measure, increasing the pressure to compact 
his body further.  "Four...five...six..."  Nate began to think "I have 
to get out of this.  This is humiliating.  Come on, you're better than 
her."  "Seven...Eight...Nine..."  Nate's knees were at his face, and he 
tried to give one last kick with as much power as he could muster, but 
he was trapped in the iron grip of her steely arms. 

"Ten.  I think that's a pin, don't you?  I could hold you here all day.  
Would you like that?"  She lifted him up off the mat for a second and 
dropped him again, releasing him from the cradle hold, standing up and 
stepping back from him to let him recover for a second. 

"Look, lady.  This has been fun and all, but I think I should leave.  
I'll take a cab back to my car.  He walked away from her, towards his 
clothes, and passed out of the circle, and instantly felt her arm around 
his waist.  He was unable to move forward. "You're not going anywhere 
until someone surrenders.  And you seem to have broken one of the house 
rules by leaving the ring.  You know what that means!" She lifted him 
off the ground and carried him back to the center of the ring draped 
over her powerful arm to the side like a towel. 

"Oh, no" Nate thought.  "I don't remember the penalty. What is it?"  He 
was in shock that this woman, any woman, could lift him so easily using 
just one arm. 

Trisha knelt on one knee and laid Nate over her up-knee, face down.  She 
rubbed his ass for a moment, and suddenly Nate remembered. 

"NO!" 

"Let the penalty begin."  SMACK!  The first blow felt like a bullet and 
he teared up immediately.  She rained down 10 spanks in 15 seconds, and  
then lifted Nate up into her arms and cradled him to her.  He was still 
sobbing.  "Do you surrender now, sport?" 

Angry, Nate struggled his way out of her arms and fell to the ground, 
and then got up and stood toe to toe with her.  "I'm not through yet, 
you bitch." 

"I just won't stand for such language.  And neither will you."  With a 
swift kick, she took his legs out used her arms to throw him to the 
ground.  He jumped back up and stood toe to toe with her again.  She was 
impressed by his staying power.  "Very well, let's continue.  The rule 
is that you're on bottom." 

Nate got on all fours in the center of the ring.  She knelt behind him 
and go in the top position, her right hand around his waist and the 
other about to touch his left elbow.  "When I touch your elbow we 
start." 

"Fine."  He calculated his next move - he had a spin out move that 
worked very well in college and planned to use that on her. 

When she touched his elbow he realized he had no chance.  She instantly 
lifted him off the ground.  It was as if he had booster rockets attached 
to him he was up in the air so quickly.  She had him over her head for a 
couple of seconds as he struggled in her grasp, and then dropped him to 
the ground with a crashing thud.  Not wasting any time, she lifted him 
again over her head with both hands and dropped him again.  She repeated 
the exercise 8 more times, and with each succeeding lift his struggles 
ebbed more and more.   On the last lift, she held him up for a long 
while.  Face up, he could only stare at the ceiling and hope his body 
was numb to the pain from the fall.  She released one of her hands and 
held him up by the strength of one arm and then dropped him to the floor 
another time. 

She jumped on top of him and he wasn't even struggling anymore.  He just 
laid there and let her twist and turn his body at will, but he couldn't 
bring himself to utter the unutterable words.  So the torture continued.  
Throw holds, cradles, arm bars, monkey flips, every move that he had 
mastered as a collegiate wrestler she could perform on him with her 
superior strength and speed.  And he was powerless to stop her.  After 
one monkey flip, as he was sprawled out on his back, she sat on his 
chest and toyed with his nose. 

"You don't seem to be winning.  What's the matter sport?  Still think 
men are stronger?  Still think I can lift only 20 pounds?" 

"Please let me up.  I want to go home." 

"Not before you surrender.  Go ahead and say it.  We both know who's 
stronger. Who's faster.  Who's superior."  A slight squeeze of her legs, 
straddled around his waist, brought a gasp of pain from Nate's tortured 
body.  "Still nothing? Well, I know how to push you over the edge.  This 
is my favorite pin." 

Rising to her knees, she shifted forward so that her crotch was directly 
above his head.  Nate looked up at her womanhood and to the sides, where 
her supremely muscular thighs bulged with feminine power.  Looking up 
further, he saw her breasts jutting out from her thick chest, the 
nipples erect like bullets, and then her face came into view, looking 
down at him, smiling deviously.  The view made his cock get even harder, 
which he didn't think was possible.  He then knew what was coming next, 
and he just couldn't let it happen to him.  He didn't know if he could 
ever look at himself in the mirror again if she showered on him the 
indignity of being facially covered by her pussy, and he'd rather 
surrender to her than be muffled by her muff. 

She began to lower herself. 

"I surrmffff."  His submission was cut short by her pin move - a full 
facesit. 

"What was that?  I couldn't hear it."  She wiggled on his face, but did 
not let him speak. 

"Mffffmfmfm." 

"I didn't hear it still, sport.  Did you just say 'rip my dick off?'" 

"MFMFFMMMFMF"  The scream tickled her pussy.  She reached back and 
tugged on his hard cock a couple of times, and felt the sobbing beneath 
her. She released her grip on his cock and massaged his testicles.  
After a few seconds of massage, Nate stopped struggling and placed his 
hands on her mighty thighs in a sign of utter submission, complete 
abdication of manhood as the dominant sex.  Reaching back with her other 
hand, she grabbed the seam around his cock-hole and using her tremendous 
power tore the wrestling outfit from his body, leaving him fully naked 
beneath her. 

"Tap once on my thigh if you've had enough, sport.  But tap hard enough 
that I can feel it through my massive muscles, ok?" 

The tap came immediately.  She rose from his face and sat back on his 
chest. 

"I surrender. I surrender.  God, I surrender to you." 

"Very well.  You will obey me, then?" 

"Yes.  Anything." 

"Very well.  Don't move."  She rose and walked over to the dresser and 
opened up another drawer, and pulled out a long rope, pulled on it to 
show it's strength, and walked back over to where Nate lay perfectly 
still.  She rubbed his forehead and kissed his nose and told him not to 
struggle.   "Open your legs."  Nate complied.  She got down on her knees 
between his legs and took one end of the rope and made it into a loop, 
then put the loop over his cock and down around his testicles, cinching 
it tight enough so that it wouldn't slip off but no too tight to cut off 
his blood flow.  His cock was harder than he'd ever remembered. She 
pulled on the rope and his ass raised with her tug.  Placing her hand 
under his lower back, she lifted him up a bit, and then wrapped the rope 
around his waist, and then down, into his ass crack, and around to the 
front so that it sidled his testicles, around his waist again, down 
through the front and around to the back once again through his ass 
crack.  It looked like a skimpy little g-string diaper on him. 

"Put your legs back together."  Once again he complied promptly.  She 
wrapped the rope around his thighs and then around his neck, and pulled 
tight so that his thighs were crushed into his chest, then tied up his 
feet so that they were immobile, passed the rope down his back so that 
it went into his ass crack and then looped around his neck once again.  
Next, she passed the rope down to his arms, looping around his right arm 
and then passing it beneath him to his left and looping around that arm, 
then around his stomach and around his body another time to ensure that 
his arms were fastened.  Finally, she knotted the rope to the end that 
was still sticking up from the initial loop around his cock, and doubled 
over the remaining several feet of rope into a loop of its own fastened 
to the knot she had just made, sticking straight up through his thighs 
and calves.  She tugged on the loop to make sure it was sturdy. 

Nate felt like he was trapped in a spider's web.  He looked down at his 
body and it had practically disappeared in an intricate array of ropes 
and knots.  His body had been compacted into a tiny ball and he was 
completely unable to move any part of his body except for his toes, 
fingers, eyelids and lips.  "What are you going to do with me?" he 
asked. 

"Anything I want, sport.  You should know that by now."  She reached her 
hand through his thighs from just above his exposed ass and grasped his 
cock, and then pulled it back through so that the head just poked out 
into view.  She spanked his exposed ass hard, and then followed that 
with a kiss to his cock's head.  She spanked and then kissed again, 
bringing a yelp followed by a sigh from Nate.  She continued the 
alternating pain and pleasure, pain and pleasure, spank and kiss, 
beginning what she knew would be the long process of blurring his 
perception of pain and pleasure, a hallmark of effective female 
domination. 

Standing back up, she grasped the loose rope loop with her right hand 
and with a herculean heave, lifted him off the ground.  Nate was 
surprised that the pressure on his cock wasn't excruciating - she had 
tied the rope such that the pressure was on his back and legs, with only 
a slight discomfort on his penis. She carried his 165 pound body over to 
the corner of the room where there was a boxing speed bag.  Depositing 
him nearby so he had a good view of the apparatus, she gave a tap to the 
speed bag. 

"I love this exercise."  She started to pound the bag into submission 
just like she pounded Nate into submission earlier.  The bag was moving 
as fast as he'd seen in the movie "Rocky", maybe even faster.  He 
couldn't believe that this woman actually existed.  In her wrestling 
tights, she looked like a muscle goddess.  Each punch caused Trisha's 
body to explode with a musculature that he wished he had, that any man 
would want.  Her shoulders looked so powerful and her arms so massive on 
each punch, he was glad he wasn't that punching bag, and pitied any man 
who had ever been on the receiving end of punches of that power and 
magnitude. 

"Your turn, sport."  She reached up and removed the bag from its hook 
and threw it aside, and then reached down and using both arms lifted 
Nate's body and with tremendous physical power hooked it onto the 
apparatus.  Nate was swinging back and forth through the air, and he was 
quaking with fear. 

"Please don't hit me.  You could kill me with your powerful arms" he 
entreated. 

"I won't kill you, slave.  I'll hurt you though."  With that, she 
punched him in the ass, and the force of the punch sent his head into 
the wood ceiling.  He swung back down into another strong punch and the 
onslaught had begun.  She used his body for a few minutes, bruising his 
body both with her own punches and with its crashing into the apparatus.  
Nate was crying in pain.  Once she finished, she removed him from the 
hook and dropped him to the ground, and knocked the wind out of him.  
Gasping for breath, he laid on the ground until he regained his 
composure. 

"It's time that you pleasure me like all little slaves should.  Do you 
understand?" 

"Yes." 

"She sexily removed her wrestling tights, folding the straps slowly over 
her hard, round, large shoulders and down her pumped arms, peeling the 
fabric from her ripped, powerful chest, exposing her perfect breasts 
with hard nipples, and then her rock hard abdominals and then finally 
rolling them down her legs to expose a perfectly shaved pussy in the 
middle of the two muscle-laden thighs he had come to fear.  She stood 
behind his head, facing his raised feet, pulled his feet up a bit to 
give his mouth unfettered access to her, and lowered herself onto his 
mouth.  "Lick me off or I will punish you worse than you've been shown."  
He obeyed and licked for all he was worth, sucking and tonguing her clit 
until within a few minutes she orgasmed and showered his face with her 
sweet-smelling juices. 

Finished with him, Trisha got dressed in her sweatpants and put on a 
sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off that was hanging off the dresser, 
exposing the powerful arms Nate wished that he'd seen at the rink.  If 
he'd known she was so large, he never would have grabbed that beer.  
Then again, maybe he would have been even more eager.  She put on her 
shoes, grabbed Nate's clothes, took him by the rope loop that had become 
her carrying strap, and carried him upstairs. 

At the front door, she put on her coat and grabbed her keys. 

"Where are you taking me?" 

"You'll see." 

"Take off the ropes.  I'll freeze!" 

"SILENCE!  You are in no position to give orders."  She opened the door 
and carried him to her car.  Before opening the door to put him inside, 
she rotated him such that he was between her legs, and then took the 
rope loop with both her hands and proceeded to curl his bodyweight ten 
times while he froze in the open air.  Her arms exploded with pumped 
blood and the bicep bunched and peaked like a cannonball.  "I knew I 
could curl you.  I just knew it. You really are my slave." 

Nate was tremendously turned on by her display of power.  Hours earlier 
he was convinced that men were superior in athletic skill and now he was 
outside, naked, tied up and being lifted like a dumbbell by this 
extraordinary powerful woman, and he knew that his tastes would never be 
the same.  How could he ever be attracted to a woman who couldn't hold 
her own on the wrestling mat, and even better dominate him completely.  
How could he ever be attracted to a woman with a soft body?  How could 
he ever be attracted to a woman who couldn't make him feel protected and 
safe?  He didn't want to leave Trisha's home.  He'd sleep tied up if 
only she'd dominate him while he was awake.  He really had become her 
slave, and he liked the feeling. 

She opened the door and threw Nate into the back seat, and drove in what 
seemed like circles to Nate, since he couldn't see where they were 
going.  She eventually pulled to a stop and got out of the car, pulling 
Nate out.  She took off her jacket and threw it on the seat.  Her 
muscled arms were exposed in all their splendor. 

Nate saw a sign on the building she was in front of but couldn't figure 
out what it said - her thighs were blocking the view.  When she started 
to carry him, he twisted a bit and saw the sign - "McSorley's Pub". 

"No, please Trisha, please don't do this to me.  I'll do anything you 
want. Please don't humiliate me like this." 

"You'll do what I want anyway, slave." 

Trisha opened the door and walked inside and the bar went silent.  
Everyone looked at the entrance and saw a beautiful woman with well-
muscled arms carrying a naked, captive man hanging from a rope.  She 
spotted Nate's teammates sitting at a large table and walked over to 
them.  Their faces looked priceless.  She heaved Nate onto the table and 
then put his clothes next to him. 

"Nate here said he wanted to grab a beer with you, so I brought him by."  
Noone responded.  "Say hello, Nate." 

Nate couldn't speak.  Trisha gave him a swat on the behind, followed by 
a rub of his still exposed cock head. 

"I said, say hello, slave." 

"Hello." 

"Very good."  She turned to the team.  "Boys, would you make sure he 
gets home. Thank you.  Oh, and nice game tonight." 

Trisha rubbed Nate's forehead and then stroked his hair.  "Be at my 
place on Sunday night at 8, or else I'll come and get you.  Don't be 
even a second late." She squeezed his cock, and walked out the door of 
the silent bar. 

Lying there, naked, cold, humiliated, Nate knew he'd show up on time.