Equal Rights - Story Number One
By Wanderer
New wife demands equality, gets it her way.


Author's note: Around the year 2000 I got my first computer, and I noticed
Diana the Valkyrie's web site. Being a computer novice, I didn't yet know how
to send e-mails and attachments so I typed out two stories and sent them to
Diana the Valkyrie by snail mail. Well, Diana was kind enough to put them on
her web site, but you have to click on every page to read them and the
typewriter print isn't easy to read, so I have re-submitted my first two
stories in this easier to read format. You may have read them before, or maybe
you didn't bother, or if you read them a long time ago you might like to read
them again. Thanks.

This is adult material. Please do not read if you are under age 18 or laws in
your country forbid you to do so.

The story:

My new wife Jan and I were just coming off our honeymoon. She was some looker,
and she had turned out to be some sexy thing, better than I had hoped - great
body, all the right curves, full bosom, really stacked, and, best of all, she
liked it - she almost did me in. I can tell you, it wasn't a restful
honeymoon. I was almost secretly glad it was over so that I could get back to
work, which I figured was going to be more restful. I kept up my end, not
wanting to look like a wimp, but secretly I was glad it was over and maybe we
could get back to two or three times a week instead of two or three times a
night. I figured it was the youthful enthusiasm of my eighteen year old bride
wanting to please her new twenty-five year old husband, but I was glad the
honeymoon was past.

So there we were, standing at the door of the new home I had just bought, me
fumbling with the keys, and I finally got the door open and was about to carry
Jan over the threshold, when I felt myself being bodily lifted into the air. I
turned my head to find myself gazing into the deep blue eyes of my smiling
eighteen year old bride holding ME, her husband, in her arms, seemingly
effortlessly, instead of the other way around, as I had planned. I was
speechless, but she certainly wasn't.

"OK," she said, "full equality, like you promised me when you proposed. That's
why I said yes. My dad used to dominate my family, and poor mom never got to
make a decision, she was more a servant than a wife. So I think our marriage
has to get off on an equal footing, and since you only get carried over the
threshold once I'm going to do it so you'll be reminded of your promise to me.
You'll remember this all your life. I can always say to you 'Who carried who
over the threshold?' Right, sweetie?" And with that Jan, with seemingly great
ease, carried me into the living room, kicking the door closed behind her with
one foot, and dumped me unceremoniously onto the couch.

Was I ever angry! When I get mad I kind of lose control, and it all shows in
my face, which was now very red! As I bounced on the couch from being dropped
there I was scrambling to get up, but my nervous system was so upset I was
floundering around, not knowing whether I should roll off the couch or get my
feet under me first, or what.

Jan, alarmed at the anger in my face, and never having seen me this way
before, planted a knee in my mid-section, and held me down easily, her short
skirt hiking up practically to her hips. "Now, sweetie, calm down," she said.
"I'm not going to let you up until you relax. You might hurt yourself - or I
might have to hurt you," she giggled. Meanwhile I was taken aback by the play
of huge muscles flexing in her right thigh as she easily kept me on my back on
the couch with just the pressure of her knee. I knew she had very large,
hard-looking calves, but I had only caught glimpses of her thighs before, when
she had worn a short skirt, but mostly she wore denim pants or slacks and I
had thought she had rather hefty, fat thighs, and I didn't realize the heft
was all muscle!

But did I hear her right? Did she just say if I didn't calm down she might
have to hurt me? Was my teenager bride threatening me? "What the hell do you
mean, you won't let me up? I'm going to give you the spanking you deserve in
two seconds, you little teenage brat!" I yelled at her. My father had also
dominated my family, and he had been a strict disciplinarian. That was the
family life I knew. We kids in the family had been very well behaved, and that
was the kind of family I wanted, even if I had to use a little physical
punishment on my wife. No hitting, but I figured a little spanking now and
then could put everything in the proper perspective.

"OK," she giggled, and she counted, "One thousand and one, one thousand and
two - two seconds. I'm waiting," she taunted me.

Egged on by this taunt, I struggled to get her knee off my midsection. Chris'
sakes, I knew she had been into athletics, but I didn't realize she was so
strong. I pushed as hard as I could against her thigh, then I pushed to the
right and to the left, but damned if I could budge her leg. And the effort to
keep me in place made all kinds of muscles bulge out on her thigh. It was like
steel cables under the skin, and damned if the effort didn't seem to make her
thigh grow all the larger. It was like 28" I guessed, and a hell of a lot
bigger than mine. I knew some women had bigger thighs than men, but for the
first time it struck me that some women might have bigger thighs than I did. I
always thought I could surpass any female, but now I was beginning to have my
doubts. Finally I stopped squirming, unable to budge sweet Jan's knee off my
stomach. I lay back exhausted, and gradually the blood drained out of my face,
and I calmed down.

"See honey," she said, "equality, that's what you promised me. Now that we're
home in our little love nest, you can please me all the way. I guess you were
too shy in the hotel room at Niagra Falls, you never could tell when the maid
might pop in," she giggled. And without further explanation she straddled my
body with both legs and pulled my head up to where her two muscular thighs
came together.

I was revolted by this, never having done it before, and I struggled as best I
could to get away, but the soft couch didn't give me anything to push against.
I pushed against her hips and her stomach, which I discovered were as muscled
as her thighs - didn't she have any fat anyplace? - but she didn't seem to
notice as she went about satisfying herself, expertly manipulating my head
this way and that, my feeble efforts seemingly having no effect on her as she
was lost deep in passion.

Finally her body shuddered as she had an orgasm, wetting my face with her
juices, and she released my head, the fresh air rushing into my lungs as I
gasped in great big gulps of it.

"Ooohhh, that was good, honey," she cooed at me, "let's do it again!"

"Dammit, woman!" I screamed at her, "I'll tell you when we have sex, and we'll
do it my way, or not at all!"

"Ooohh, honey," and she smiled at me sweetly, "remember, equality? - you
promised!"

"Hell," I replied, "the only equality you're going to get is what I give you
when I want to give it - now get the hell off me!"

Shocked by my outburst, Jan quickly got off me and stood there looking
stunned. Now I quickly got up off the couch and we stood there facing each
other, one irate husband and one confused looking wife.

"But honey, that wasn't the way I thought it was going to be," she said,
demurely.

"Oh yes it is!" I yelled at her, and I pumped my index finger deep into her
ample chest for emphasis.

"Don't do that, please," she said to me.

Since my pumping my finger into her chest seemed to displease her and I was so
angry, I kept doing it to spite her.

"That's how it's going to be, got me?" I said, still hitting on her breast
bone with my finger.

Again she said, "Don't do that, please," with a little more emphasis, but I
kept it up, knowing I was making my point.

All of a sudden her hand grabbed my prodding finger, and I was yelling, "Ouch!
Ouch! Ouch!" as she bent it way back, practically pulling it out of its
socket, and I instantly fell to my knees under the pressure. She had me down
on my knees with one simple little move, groveling in front of her. This was a
hell of a way to start a marriage - I had yet to win round one, and I was
getting very frustrated.

"Look, sweetie, I don't want to hurt you," my unbelieving ears heard her say,
"but if it's going to come down to you or me, I'm afraid you have to
understand that it's going to be me. I'm just too strong for you, that's all.
Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Well, my ego wasn't about to understand that, but groveling in front of her as
I was with her putting almost unbearable pressure on my finger, I really for
the first time got a very close look at her calf muscles. They just seemed to
fill my vision, incredibly wide, and also looking very firm and very hard. My
curiosity got the best of me through my pain, and I couldn't help but reach
out and touch them. They were just as hard and firm and big as they looked. I
had noticed she had rather large calves for a girl, but her legs looked so
curvy and sexy I think I just overlooked the muscle part. But so what, they
couldn't hurt me, or so I thought. As if reading my mind Jan reached down and
placed my head between her calves. It felt like a vice holding it there, but
then she raised up on her toes and the calves balled up even bigger into the
size of a softball, the pressure constricting my windpipe down to zero - I
couldn't breathe! God, up and down, up, down, up, down, every time she was
down I gulped in a big breath of air because the next time up my windpipe was
down to zero again! My free hand looked for some kind of hold but she held me
immobile, all I could do was feel that huge softball sized calf flex up hard
as a rock and unflex, flex, unflex - God, what pain - and fear for my life!

Finally Jan stopped. "See, hurts, doesn't it?" she asked, matter-of-factly.
"Want more?"

"No! No!" I gasped.

Taking that for surrender, my eighteen year old bride released her finger hold
on me and put both hands under my armpits, effortlessly lifting me to my feet
so that we stood again face to face, almost, me a head taller, confronting
each other, me still redder in the face than ever, now from both anger and
lack of oxygen. What the hell had I gotten myself into? My eighteen year old
bride can lift my two hundred pounds like I was light as a feather?

Now I could see, after the physical exertion had brought the blood into her
arms and swollen them, that the quick glimpse I had had of very large biceps
as she combed her hair in the dressing room of our honeymoon suite was all too
real. I had watched those suspicious bulges but I kind of passed over it,
knowing that she had been involved in all kinds of athletics in high school
and in after-school activities, and besides, I didn't want a soft eighteen
year old who would turn fat and flabby by the time she was twenty-one, so I
always admired a good athletic woman, which Jan certainly was. One day when I
wandered into the dressing room I could swear she was standing in front of the
mirror flexing two huge biceps, doing a pose like a body builder, but she
quickly stopped when she saw me, and I decided it just must have been
distortion in the mirror from the angle I was looking at. No girl was going to
have biceps like what it looked like, I decided, especially not an amazingly
pretty eighteen year old, and especially not my wife - Boy, was I kidding
myself!

Now Jan saw me staring, and she knew then and there that she wasn't going to
be able to hide those humongous biceps from me forever. "OK, OK, I guess
you've got to know sooner or later. That's my passion, doing curls - dumbbell
curls, barbell curls, Preacher bench curls, any kind of curls. Ever since I
was old enough to know that it wasn't right for dad to come home drunk and
beat up on mom and the rest of us kids I resolved to have biceps as big as
his. When I was fourteen and he came home from a night out with the boys and
started beating on us I thought my biceps were as big as his, so when he
started hitting on me I hit him back. Was he ever surprised! Did he get mad!
Well, we had one hell of a fight that night, and I guess my biceps were even
bigger than his because I beat the shit out of him. Mom and my four brothers
and sisters had all they could do to pull me off him, or I would have killed
him, I think. After that he never touched us again. Of course, it was the job
of our older brother, Jason, who was eighteen at the time, to protect the rest
of the family from my drunken father, but he was absolutely scared to death of
dad, so even though I was only fourteen I became the protector of the family.

"After that dad never touched us again, although he sure never gave up
drinking - I think he drank even more. But he gave me a wide berth. And if he
came home drunk and started acting up I would just flex my bicep - see, like
this" - and my worst fears, that I had suppressed - were confirmed. Jan had an
awfully large bicep - it was so much larger than mine I was embarrassed.
Imagine, eighteen years old and she could out-muscle me, her twenty-five year
old husband! My jaw just kind of dropped in awe. Well, Jan was secretly
pleased because she'd spent a lot of time building up those arms, so now she
did a double bicep flex. I just stood there, dumbfounded, my jaw dropping to
my chest. Those arms just swelled up until they looked like two mountain peaks
swelling above her striated deltoids. Watching the blood vessel in her bicep
throbbing as it angled up the middle of the muscle to her shoulder was
hypnotic.

"Like 'em, honey?" she asked. "One inch for every ear of my age - eighteen
inches. Going to go for nineteen inches when I'm nineteen," she said, as if it
was already an accomplished fact. Watching that display and thinking about
nineteen inches compared to my "big" thirteen inches that I was so proud of, I
sure got scared, and I think I was even trembling, but my fear of my new wife
made me angry at myself, and my anger made me irrational, despite this display
of female biceps. And her challenge to my macho image of myself had me red in
the face and now I was also seeing red.

"See," Jan said, "these can give you lots of hurt, just like I gave my dad.
You don't want me to hurt you any more, do you?" she asked, matter-of-factly.
I reached out and put both my hands on her incredibly wide and sturdy
shoulders - funny, up to now I had thought them to be very soft, and now they
just seemed very, very hard. I tried to shake her but she just stood there
very solidly, hardly moving from my efforts. I guess those damn thighs and
huge calves made her as sturdy as the Empire State building. She was just
laughing at me, giggly like some kind of school girl, and that made me all the
madder, so that I redoubled my efforts, all to no avail.

Finally Jan reached up and took one of my wrists in each of her hands and bent
my hands behind my back, so that we were standing there, chest to chest, her
firm bosom making indentations in my chest. The rise and fall of her ample
breasts started to excite me, despite my discomfort at my predicament. She
held me helpless there, my hands behind my back gazing thoughtfully into my
eyes. Then, after what seemed like minutes in this position, Jan said, "Give
up?" Well, that infuriated me again. I reached my left foot behind her right
leg and pushed my body against hers to try to trip her up, but her leg had no
give to it. I pushed and kicked but nothing happened. Finally I felt her
forearms and upper arms kind of wrap around my midsection and she easily
lifted me off my feet so that I was dangling there helplessly in her bearhug,
my hands behind my back, unable to move or help myself except to kick my feet
with no effect.

"Give up?" Jan asked again, sweetly. Then, with a thoughtful expression on her
face, "Maybe equality won't work in our relationship. I think instead of 50-50
it may have to be 60-40 or 70-30 my way. I still protect my brother Jason from
my dad to this very day, even though he is now a big strapping twenty-two year
old farm boy, and six inches taller and seventy pounds heavier than I am. I
realized at age fourteen that we females don't necessarily have to hide behind
a man. I protected my family and I protected my brother, and it's pretty plain
now that I'm stronger than you are, honey, so I will protect you. You'll just
have to accept that I will be in charge. You're seven years older than I am,
but the age doesn't really matter, it's the muscle that counts. Even though
I'm much stronger than you are I love you and I'll be very gentle with you,
and I'm sure it won't take you very long to get used to doing things my way."

Hearing this declaration of my new subservient position to my eighteen year
old child-bride made me shake with anger and fear, both at the same time, but
Jan continued, oblivious to my trembling. "Don't worry, honey, I'll treat you
nice unless you force me to discipline you, so you'd better behave yourself.
You really don't want to show up at work with all those macho guys at your
auto shop with a black eye, or maybe two black eyes, do you? How would you
explain two black eyes? I ran into two doors?" she giggled. "I won't black
your eye first time out of the box, but remember that spanking you were going
to give me? Well, what's our watchword in this family? - Equality, right?" Jan
still had me wrapped up in her bearhug, her muscular arms squeezing my middle,
and she easily carried me over to the nearest chair and put my body across her
lap and gave me one hell of a spanking. I squirmed and squirmed but she threw
one leg over mine and held my head down with one hand and she had me pretty
immobile so that she could just take her own sweet time about it. Man, it
really hurt, it hurt so bad it brought tears to my eyes.

When she thought I had enough she reached around and sat me on her lap, tears
from the pain still streaming down my face. "There, there," she cooed, "don't
cry, we probably would have come to this sooner or later, so maybe sooner was
better, before we've set any unchangeable patterns in our relationship. Now
that you understand who's boss it won't be so bad for you if you behave
yourself and mind me, and besides, wasn't it fun? That close physical contact
is exciting, isn't it?" she said, noticing the huge erection our closeness had
given me. "Come on, let's not waste it!" She rose easily from her seat on the
chair, still cradling me in her oh so strong arms, tossed me triumphantly over
one wide muscular shoulder so that I was staring straight down on those
humongously large calves, and effortlessly carried me into the bedroom where
she continued what we had started on our honeymoon. Oh well, look on the
bright side, giving equality may have some disadvantages, but it's sure got
some advantages also!