Heather Fine
Dominates
I had just had dinner at my neighbor's house. I'm forty years old, with no excess fat and fair muscle definition, around six feet tall. I was dressed in blue jeans and a tee shirt.
I'd guess she was about thirty years old. She had red hair tied in a pony tail. Her blue eyes bore into mine.
Her neck was a column of muscle, her thick trapezius muscles sloped down to her broad shoulders. Her deltoids were covered with a round cap of muscle that looked like a cantaloupe. Her arms were huge with bulging biceps and triceps that squirmed like snakes under her bodysuit.
Heather stood before me with her hands on her hips. I noticed that her lower body was even more formidable looking than her upper body was. Her well defined abdominal muscles rippled under the tight bodysuit.
Heather turned slowly around, showing me the wide expanse of her back. Her gluts appeared as hard as cannon balls, and she raised on her toes to flex the calves to their fullest. "Well, what do you think?" Heather asked as she turned to face me again. "Pretty impressive, huh?"
All I could do was gasp as she flexed her arms, making the biceps swell to the full expanse. "Very impressive", I managed to say.
"Go get dressed into something more comfortable, and then we'll wrestle," she said.
"What if I don't want to wrestle?" I asked.
"I intimidate you, huh," she said.
"No way, I'm going to back to my apartment to get changed and then I'll show you I'm not scared," I declared emphatically.
When I returned, Heather held out her hand and I shook it. I noticed again it was very large, and for the first time I saw how muscular it was. She gave my hand only a firm squeeze, the sign of someone who knows their own strength and has no need to show off by crushing other people's hands. Facing her, I began comparing myself to her. I was about six inches taller, but Heather was larger in all other dimensions. I guessed that she must weigh about 150 pounds to my 175. Her shoulders were broader than mine, and her arms and legs had mine beat by a wide margin. There was no fat on her body, it seemed to be solid muscle. I had little wrestling knowledge. What the hell was I doing here?
Heather asked, "Ready? Then, let's go." She moved straight in at me. I tried to duck and spin out of the way, but Heather as too quick. She caught my head in the crook of her big left arm and tightened the headlock by clasping her hands. I tried to slip my head out of her grip. Heather spread her legs out and did a split, dropping to the floor. With my head trapped in her arms, I had little choice but to follow. She placed all her weight on me, holding me down. My head felt as if it was being squeezed in a vise. I struggled to get up, and even made it as far as my knees before Heather flipped me over her hip and flat on my back. I tried to twist my head free, but only succeeded in increasing the pain. Heather's left bicep grew even larger and I could feel my face start to go numb. I had never been so frightened. Heather was using her chest muscles to increase the pressure she was putting on my head, and it felt like two iron jaws crushing my skull. I began to see stars and tried to tell Heather that I gave up, but nothing came out of my mouth but a grunt.
I vaguely became aware that Heather was talking to me. "What's the matter, can't get out of my headlock? Tsk, Tsk, you ought to be ashamed of yourself." I felt the pressure ease for an instant, but before I could move, Heather closed the vise again. "There, that's better, now I could see you." I looked up into her blue eyes and didn't find an ounce of pity. There was a mocking smile on her face as she said, "I like my men to struggle, Babycakes. You're just lying there, making me do all the work." Incredibly, the pressure of her arms increased. "Come on wimp, fight back! Do something!"
I tried again to get her weight off me so I could get to my feet, but it was no use. There seemed to be no strength left in my body. I wondered vacantly how long Heather had held me trapped, then thought about what I needed at the grocery store. I realized that I was losing consciousness, and I was scared.
Slowly I began to realize that Heather was no longer lying on top of me. I was flat on my back on the floor, and I had a terrible headache. Heather was wetting a towel with some water from a bottle, and she tossed it onto my chest scornfully as I tried to sit up. I gratefully wrapped the towel around my neck and wiped it over my head and face, trying to regain what was left of my wits.
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Ms. Heather Fine
420 W. 119th St., #46
New York, NY 10027
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