Megans Muscle Tussle Ch 02 Sexual Surrender

"Is that... her?"

Brooke was whispering, but she wasn't being discreet enough - at the other end of the free weights section, Olga noticed that Brooke was staring, and she stared straight back, with a knowing smirk playing about her lips.

Megan flushed. "Yes. That's her. Now stop staring, will you, and just spot me."

Her new girlfriend obliged, and Megan prepared for her next set of inclined bench dumbbell presses.

"I can't believe she dominated you as badly as you say," Brooke remarked. Her palms brushed lightly against Megan's elbows, as Megan focused her strength and began pushing the weights straight up. "You're the strongest woman I know, sweetie."

"Yeah, well..." Megan grunted, "she's... hell of a lot... stronger."

Brooke didn't say anything as Megan muscled her way through the set - 6 reps, with the 80-pounders, impressive for anyone. Not many women, or even men, could manage that, and near the end of a muscle-building set too. As was her habit, Megan began grunting loudly for the last few reps, just to squeeze out all the strength she could.

But she found herself trying to grunt more softly than she was used to, just in case that bitch Nina was around and wanted to make an issue of it again.

Just one more month, until she and Brooke could change gyms. Then she could make all the noise she damn well wanted, when she pumped her iron.

She thumped the weights back down on the floor, feeling irritable. "Well done, sweetie," Brooke whispered in her ear, and nibbled it slightly. "Good set. I barely helped, it was almost all you."

Then they watched, surreptitiously, in the long wall mirror, as Olga, who was coincidentally also doing the same exercise, proceeded to pump out 8 fully-controlled reps without aid, with a pair of 120lb dumbbells. Then Olga set down her weights, in a much more controlled manner - instead of basically dropping them like Megan just did - and looked over in their direction, smiling as she stretched her arms out to the sides, causing her massive upper pectorals to bulge impressively.

Megan felt her cheeks burning. She saw the wide-eyed look on Brooke's face - of course her lover would be impressed with Olga. Who wouldn't be? And that strength... with 120lb dumbbells, Megan would have to struggle to do 2 or 3 reps.

"You see now?" she muttered. "That's the beast that beat me last month."

"I'd love to see you take her down a notch," Brooke murmured, pursing her lips. She smiled down at Megan and began massaging Megan's upper pecs, pressing into the muscle with her strong fingers from above while her lover lay back on the bench. "I bet you could do it... I mean, with the way you womanhandled me..." she purred.

Brooke was fit - and very sporting. They'd met a week after Megan's beatdown, and Megan had been instantly attracted to her compact fitness athlete build, just as Brooke had found Megan's curvaceous bulk irresistible. After a nice sweaty wrestling match they'd become girlfriends.

"I'm telling you, I was... completely crushed," Megan muttered.

Brooke bent down, running her hands through her brunette locks, and laid a kiss on Megan's cheek. "I believe in you, sweetie. Besides... there's more than one way for a woman to outmuscle another," she said, grinning.

Before Megan had time to ask her what she meant, she realized Olga had gotten up from her bench and was walking over, down the length of the long free-weights rack, her eyes fixed on the both of them. Glancing at Brooke, Megan realized Brooke was holding Olga's gaze unflinchingly. As Olga approached, she leaned in and planted another kiss on Megan's cheek, while still keeping her eyes fixed on the gigantic Russian she-bear.

"Hello again, Megan," Olga said. "Or should I say, Miss American Cow?"

Megan was blushing crimson by now, especially at that dig. She could not forget how she had been made to shout, in that room, with that leering Nina on the verge of orgasm, that she was a cow. She had left out that detail, too, in her recounting of the match to Brooke.

Brooke's eyes were flashing, but she smiled sweetly up at the towering Russian woman. She was a fiercely loyal person - she would stand up unhesitatingly for any of her close girlfriends, and she didn't shy away from public confrontations. "That's very rude of you, you know. Don't they teach manners where you come from?"

Olga spread her hands, with a look of mock-innocence. "I am not being rude, Megan, we are friends, yes? We have been... very close," she chuckled. "This is just bantering, between friends. Megan can take it, yes? She is tough American woman, she knows how to take joke, yes?"

With her new lover refusing to back down in front of Olga, Megan could do no less. She stood and faced Olga squarely, crossing her arms in front of her chest, tilting her head upwards to meet Olga's mocking gaze. "What do you want?" She was glad that her chest was pumped from her workout - she flexed it, like a shield.

"I only want to say hello, especially after your little girlfriend here was making the eyes at me. I was curious to know why she was making the eyes. Maybe she wants to get to know the woman who is stronger and better than you, Megan-cow? Maybe she prefers me, hm?"

In response, Brooke slipped a possessive arm around Megan's waist, which Megan was glad to feel. "Oh, no. Nothing like that, sorry. I was just thinking of how my strong, tough Megan would beat you in a rematch." Her breasts were pressed up against Megan's upper arm as she spoke.

"Oh? That sounds like challenge," Olga commented, cocking her head to one side. "Megan, you want rematch? Your girlfriend wants to watch your humiliation with her own eyes, I am thinking!"

"Oh, so it's humiliation you want, huh?" Brooke's voice went soft and she edged closer to Olga, still holding on to Megan. The three of them stood in a small huddle now. Megan's throat was going dry. The sheer nearness of both her lover and her recent tormentor was overpowering. Once again she felt the adrenaline rush of intense competition.

"I'll tell you what, Olga," Brooke said in a low voice, making sure to exaggerate the pronunciation of Olga's name. "Megan might have lost one tussle to you, but she's my lover now for a good reason - she can satisfy me like no other woman can. You might have strength going for you, but believe me..." Brooke smiled and cast a sidelong glance at Megan's crotch, "she's got the muscle where it matters."

Olga looked thoroughly unimpressed. "You are talking about her pussy, yes? I made that muscle shiver and shake at my command, little girl. Did she not tell you, about what happened after I defeated her? Did she not tell you how I broke both her body and will?"

"She'll beat you in a fair match," Brooke snapped. "Won't you, sweetie?"

Megan swallowed hard, and looked up, trying to project confidence. Brooke's presence emboldened her somewhat, but Olga's sneering, flinty face was more intimidating than she wanted to admit.

Besides... maybe Brooke was right. Maybe this was the way for her to regain her pride as a woman. There was no way she could outmuscle Olga. But when it came down to sexual skills... maybe she had a real chance.

"So how about it, Olga?" she challenged. "You and me, one on one, in an orgasm match. First to cum loses. If you're not too scared of losing, we can do it tonight."

"And I get a front-row seat," Brooke chimed in, grinning with delight.

Olga simply nodded, smiling humorlessly. "I accept."

***

The more Megan thought about it, the more grateful she felt for Brooke and her inventiveness. This was definitely the way she wanted to get back at Olga. That huge mountain of muscle would be so much less formidable when it was quivering helplessly in her skillful hands!

They were standing at the door to the private room, the same one in which Olga had previously doled out Megan's humiliation.

And as they had agreed, once again, they would do "battle" in their battle costumes - just boots.

This time, Megan was wearing a tall pair of flat brown leather boots - she was mildly superstitious about the previous pair, since it had brought her no luck. She was mightily gladdened that Brooke had decided to show solidarity - she, too, was wearing nothing except her own boots - a spicy black calfhair pair with leopard-skin prints. It was a very sweet gesture, one that Brooke did not have to make. Megan felt deeply appreciative, and she felt doubly resolved that she should not let down her new girlfriend.

"Let's scissor in front of her, after you beat her," Brooke naughtily suggested, nibbling playfully at Megan's earlobe.

Megan squirmed uncomfortably. "Brooke, honey, you're not helping..."

"Oh... sorry sweetie," Brooke said with a small chuckle. "I'll behave."

Damn, but it was not going to be easy, with Brooke watching! Megan was a little torn. Having her lover as a spectator was going to be... arousing. But having her moral support was not something Megan wanted to give up.

Well, she would just have to exert her iron will on her own body. Already she could feel herself growing wet, as she placed her hand on the doorknob. She would have to do all she could to bring her body under control, and not allow Olga to dominate.

Olga was waiting, in a pair of flat black knee-high boots, so high that they went over her knees a bit. She had opted for gloss - the boots gleamed, like those of a dominatrix. Her calves could not be concealed; the bulges were discernible under the leather, especially when she turned a leg slightly sideways, flexing her inner thighs.

"I was wondering if you would come," she said, with a slight sneer, in her slightly-accented English. "I am looking forward to milking you, like cow, in front of your little girlfriend."

Brooke smiled nastily. "You have no idea what my girl Megan is capable of," she asserted. "But you'll know soon enough, when she's making you squirt all over this mat!"

She patted Megan lightly on her ass-cheek. "Go get'em, lover," she whispered, before moving off to the side.

Megan took a deep breath. Her heart was in her mouth, and her stomach was a pit of nervousness.

She had only been in a few sexfights so far, and mostly with some ex-lovers - just a playful way of having sex, to compare their lovemaking skills: sensuality, finger manipulation, tongue agility, and so on. Usually she had won - being the larger and more muscular partner by far, she could turn the other woman into putty with a show of physical dominance. In those good-natured and loving duels, though, there had been no real "loser".

In this one, there would be.

The duel had already begun - Olga was walking slowly towards her, with deliberate hip-swiveling steps. Megan matched the gait and closed the distance with her opponent. Their gazes locked, and invisibly their wills met and clashed in the space between them. The intensity was giving her goosebumps.

She could see the tiny dewdrops of moisture on Olga's pubic hair - good, she thought, she too could not deny the initial arousal. Megan could feel the dampness in her own crotch, and the coolness of the air on her labial lips as her preliminary juices evaporated.

Weighed against her state of heightened arousal was the lack of affectionate intimacy between her and Olga. She had to try and hold on to the animosity she felt for the Russian woman, as a way to prevent her body from becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. That would help her mentally stave off any orgasm.

But as they stood, almost toe to toe, and looked deeply into each other's eyes - Megan once again having to crane her neck slightly to match Olga's gaze - Megan began to feel the overpowering muscularity of her opponent as an almost tangible force. Her own body trembled involuntarily. She was strong, and powerful, yes - but this woman, in front of her at that very moment, was larger, stronger, more powerful...

A shiver ran through her, and she swallowed hard. She could not let these feelings overwhelm her! She had to dominate this match. She had to - Brooke was right there, watching...!

Olga's lips parted, and her pink tongue darted out, moistening her pale lips. She raised her arms and reached out for Megan, while bending down. Her left arm went round Megan's back, holding her in place tightly, while her right hand went right in between Megan's thighs. Her lips latched onto Megan's, and her jaw worked, her mouth clamping down on her opponent's.

She had let Olga take the initiative! Quickly Megan reciprocated, imitating the actions, but she still felt the thrill of momentary shock that she had experienced at the first bodily contact between them. Olga was not messing around! This was a good, hard kiss, a powerful kiss of dominance, with no softness in it - this was an "I own you" kiss, with an invasive, stabbing tongue that wrestled with Megan's own, twining around and around like a python around its prey.

And already their fingers were in each other, covered in each other's juices. At this point, Olga seemed to be just as wet as Megan felt. This was encouraging, at least. Summoning up every scrap of skill she could, Megan began the opening moves - gathering up Olga's juices with her fingers, then finding Olga's engorged clitoris and rubbing it rapidly, adjusting the speed and motion to find the best way, the way that would make Olga's massive, muscular body tremble uncontrollably with pleasure.

Meanwhile she could feel Olga's own fingers at work, on her own pussy. Olga was good. Very good. Already she was rubbing Megan's pussy with a steadily pulsing pressure, lubricating Megan's swollen clitoris with her own juices, making Megan's thighs clench and unclench.

She tried to focus and muster her willpower. She had to beat this bitch! She had to bring her own body under control, and stop leaking so damn much juice...!

After a while Olga stopped rubbing, and slipped three, then four fingers into her, and she couldn't stop herself from moaning at the sensation of being stretched. Her mind raced - what new tack was Olga trying? She felt relief at the cessation of the rubbing at her clit - surely this was the Russian bitch's mistake, to have chosen not to sustain the clitoral assault. She continued rubbing furiously, eager to gain more of a lead in this regard. She was sure she had found the best motion for Olga's almost oversized clitoris - it was a circular motion that went around the base. When her fingers went round like that she thought she could feel Olga's hips gyrate the same way - a sign, surely, that this was Olga's weakness.

Olga moaned, too, the vibrations travelling all the way down to Megan's throat. Megan began to smile. She would make this giantess bitch cum, hard, and prove her superiority.

Then she gasped. Olga's hand curved into a sort of claw, with the heel of her palm pressing now against Megan's soft vulva, especially against her clitoris. And, with a sudden heave, Megan found herself lifted straight up into the air!

She choked and gasped - Olga's left hand was at the base of her neck, almost at her throat, bracing her in place, and it was cutting off her air supply somewhat. Meanwhile, Olga's hand was practically crushed against her pelvic bone, at her crotch - Megan cried out and shook with the pain.

But the pain was mixed with pleasure. As she writhed helplessly, clutching uselessly at Olga's strong left arm and kicking a little, she could feel her opponent's fingers ruthlessly groping around in her, invading her most private of parts, searching, searching for the one spot that she did not want Olga to find. The pressure on her clitoris was painful to begin with, but she had always had a high tolerance for pain - it was working against her now! Her clitoris was responding to this as stimulation!

Olga's fingers were long, and skillful. It did not take her long to find the little knob of flesh deep inside Megan, which not even Brooke or any other previous lover had ever found. When Olga pressed down on Megan's G-spot, Megan could not stop herself from uttering a hoarse tremulous moan. Her eyes glazed over. Olga smirked.

Even in a sexfight, Olga had found a way to use her raw brute strength effectively... Megan could do nothing, in her position, to counter or fight back. She couldn't reach Olga's pussy anymore, from up there, or any other part of Olga's body beyond the shoulder. And as her eyes watered from the pressure of Olga's left hand at her throat, she realized another uncomfortable truth - the partial asphyxiation was turning her on even more.

She glanced over momentarily at where Brooke was standing. Brooke had a hand covering her mouth, and her eyes had gone wide, as she beheld the spectacle of her lover womanhandled in this way. Megan felt herself flush. She kicked harder, but to no avail. Damn Olga's inhuman strength, she thought furiously. How was this even possible? To be suspended mid-air, like this, held by the crotch... to watch helplessly as Olga's arm muscles rippled like snakes while her fingers and hand worked away relentlessly at Megan's vulnerable pussy... to feel her own nipples stiffen and harden as her body responded against her will...

And all of a sudden, just as Megan felt her body shaking with an impending climax, she had a brief respite. Olga unceremoniously dumped her onto the mat. She fell down with a thud, on her butt, in a trembling and ungainly heap.

As Olga strutted around her, with hands on hips, casting suggestive looks at the red-faced Brooke, Megan blinked angry tears from her eyes. She could see that Brooke's lips were slightly parted, and as Olga paused and raised her arms in a double-biceps flex, standing over Megan, Brooke's hand wandered over to her crotch. Her loyal lover was beginning to pleasure herself at the sight of the one-sided domination Olga was dishing out...

She tried to clamber to her feet, to get back into the duel, but Olga dropped the pose and pounced on her, keeping her down, taking hold of her wrists and pinning her arms securely to the mat. Megan bared her teeth, glaring up at Olga, but she knew it was no use. Her muscles tensed and bulged, but against Olga's superior strength and leverage, she could not move her arms even a single inch.

Slowly, her eyes gleaming with malice, Olga lowered her torso onto Megan's, pushing her breasts down onto her helpless opponent's. Megan's modest B-cups did not flop to the side, thanks to her wide well-developed upper chest muscles, but rather settled comfortably and evenly over her pectorals. This, however, made it easy for Olga to line their nipples up together. Her swollen pink nipples pressed against Megan's.

There were no muscles to flex there. There was no control she could possibly exert on her nipples like that. Yet, Megan found herself flexing muscles that didn't exist, wishing that her nipples could somehow stand up to Olga's, push back, resist... instead, they were being crushed, pushed to the side, overpowered. She whimpered, hating how she sounded - like a girl about to be defeated - and shifted her chest, to try and move her nipples away from Olga's. She didn't want to see or feel them being dominated like that.

But there was no escape. Olga began to swivel her upper torso side to side, so that their breasts were smooshed together and her nipples brushed hard against Megan's. Each contact was like a small electric jolt. Megan had never known her nipples could be so sensitive. She clenched her jaw and swayed her chest from side to side too, matching motions with Olga, pitting her womanhood against hers.

With every flick of nipple on nipple her arousal was growing, until it was almost painful. Her moans got louder and louder - she couldn't stifle them - until she was almost crying out in ecstasy. And above her, Olga's face remained implacable. She was aroused, too - her moist lips were parted and she panted - but she was fully in control of herself, setting the pace, feeling just enough stimulation to enjoy the duel, while at the same time turning Megan into a shivering, throbbing mass on the verge of orgasm.