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Jayzon (Amazon)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
CHRONICLES OF BOOTS AND BICEPS
(Occasional Tales)
JAYZON THE INCREDIBLE
By David Janes
© WIG, LTD 1993
"And you mean to tell me that you are unable to remember what
happened last night."
"Honestly Dave," she replied, seemingly truthfully, without a trace
of hesitation.
I hoofed it up and down the living room floor shaking my head
from side to side. "I don't believe it! Oh! I believe you Jayzon" (I
had grown used to calling her Jayzon these last few months - she had
wanted it that way - futuristic for her chosen vocation). "I really do
believe you don't remember, but I just cannot understand it at all."
"You say it happened Dave, but I honestly have no recollection of
it." Her voice was as lovely as ever, beautiful East country tones
mixed with hints of summer scents drifting over dry sand, and this
from an incredible monumental body.
"Jayze! I was fast asleep - deep as snow - okay, not as pure as the
driven article, but nevertheless deep asleep. My first recollection was
one of fighting for breath. You know the way that you can sometimes
dream something which gets locked into the physical world and then
your dream matches up with what is actually happening to you?"
"Yeah, go on you've told me that before."
"Well, I was dreaming of you and then my eyes opened and you
were bending over me with that infamous bicep hold of yours. And
you had your black PVC leotard on. The one you usually train in, plus
your black fishnets and your amazing red Supergirl Boots."
"Yeah, my Incredible Jayzon red Supergirl wrestling Boots -
leather almost as strong as my huge sinews."
"Yes, that's right. Well, I woke up staring up at you. Your eyes
were piercing right through me as if you were locked onto something
else, far down in the bowels of the Earth. Your arm was bicep-locked
underneath my neck and around my meager throat. You dragged me
out of bed with sheer force of biceps and upper arms. Not with hands
you understand, but just with biceps alone."
"Well Dave. You know that's not unusual for me. I've been doing
that for weeks on you."
"But in your sleep Jayzon. Never in your sleep. I just was not
sure - you really did seem to be asleep to me."
"Perhaps you did dream it, after all you did say you were dreaming
about me."
"Perhaps I did, but I just feel that I was awake. The look was like
that which you gave me at your cottage when I took that group of
photos of you in the same garb some years ago."
"I remember it well, Dave. I was so fired up that night. Sick of
you going on about female bodybuilders, so I just took you apart
completely."
"You know, I've always loved your body whether it be feminine
curves, as you had then, or feminine huge muscles, as you have now."
"You know too, Dave, that night I vowed to change my body for a
change, for the sake of change."
"I know. And you've done a terrific job too."
"Well. Which do you prefer, old or new?"
Jayzon was sitting on one of the easy chairs. It was winter, the
heating was only just beginning to warm the house, but she sat in black
leather briefs and a short waistcoat which barely covered a fraction of
her big body. Obligatory Boots - long black shiny patent ones
covered her legs from foot to knee.
"I love both your old and your new. Curves and muscles."
"But you wanted this Dave. My strength isn't part reality and part
fantasy for you any more. It is real. See Dave, you don't need to
dream anymore. I can do all of those things which you dreamed,
thought and eventually wrote that I could do. I am The Incredible
Jayzon, The Amazon."
She got up, that huge mane of wavy, auburn blonde hair, dressing
the muscles of her large shoulders. She crossed the room to the pile of
telephone directories which she kept for such moments as this and
tossed one to me.
"Go on Dave, tear it up. Let's see your strength."
"You know I can't."
"You still think I dreamed it."
"THE PHONE BOOK DAVE!!"
I tried for fully five minutes to no avail at all. I could not make the
slightest impression upon the thick article.
Jayzon came behind me and I half turned to see her. Her arms like
girders, her hands like iron clamps, her face like a beautiful dawning,
radiant star. She took the thick book. I smelled the sweetness of her
perfume and the breath of female malignant strength and watched the
phone book being ripped apart in front of my very eyes as she looked
over my shoulder and kissed my cheek as she accomplished the task
without so much as a grimace. Two inches thick. It had torn without
a struggle.
She left me holding the two halves and stood in front of me
displaying a million muscles on her unique body.
"WELL. I'm waiting for your answer."
I could not resist it. Several years of hard work had turned her
shapely curves into even more shapelier, curvier big man humiliating
muscles. I loved her before, I loved her even more now.
"You are sheer brilliance," I blurted out. "You've worked hard to
transform your body from one form of uniqueness to another. I loved
you then, I love and adore you now."
"I believe you. Now tell me what happened next."
"Oh, yes Jayze. Forgot for a moment. Carried away with you. As
I said, I woke up to find you standing over me and then that crook of
the arm bicep grip and wow, I was out of bed with one fell swoop and
onto the floor. Within seconds you had lifted me and I was draped
across your shoulder in a fireman's lift."
"And so you carried me downstairs. I was lightness personified
for you. The Spare Room - your Muscle Making Room, which used
to be my Study until you took it over for your Bodily Arts has the
center clear as you know - your Amazon Mat - where you wrestle me
and any others of like 'half mind'".
"All that you said was, 'I have to try this move on you Dave. I
need to get it right. It's something special. The stronger I get, the
more I am able to diversify. First, we'll wrestle normally and then I'll
spring the surprise move on you.'"
"Thanks, I thought to myself. I couldn't go anywhere though. Not
when you have the strength of a Vickers-Armstrong Tank."
"You wrestled me normally. The usual titanic holds, lifts, throws,
etc. which drained me in seconds and then you suddenly hit me with
it."
"I can only describe it as a Bicep Punch! You held me with your
left hand and pushed me sideways towards your free flexing bicep. I
hit your big arm muscles and went reeling across the mat
uncontrollably."
"I was absolutely staggered. Your bicep punched me again and
again as you told me you needed to perfect it. I was convinced it was
perfect. I was amazed you could do such a thing."
"Okay, then Dave. I'll admit I've been thinking about such a move,
but to suggest I'm Sleep Fighting is unbelievable."
"Well, I didn't make it up Jayze, and you've never even mentioned
it to me before."
"It still seems to me you dreamed it, but, of course, you could be
right. I am good and perhaps I'm even as good as you say."
"I think you are."
"You probably dream I am too."
"Jayzon, who's convincing who here?"
"Davey Boy, I don't really care. I know I could tear you apart in
my sleep."
"Well, yes, I reckon you co...."
"Dave. I've had enough of this conversation. It's time for you to
put your money where your dreams are."
"Oh yeah, What do you want now?"
"Present my Little Apple Papple. Time for you to buy for your
Incredible Amazon again."
"Anything I can afford?"
"No. Only lots you can't afford."
"Are we talking . . ."
"BOOTS. Yes we're talking good BIG BOOTS. Boots fit for an
AMAZON. After all, an Amazon Muscle Maiden needs her wardrobe
of Boots well stocked, so . . ."
"But I've bought you stacks already and just yesterday I bought
you the shiny patent ones you're wearing now . . ."
"This is why we're off Boot hunting Davey. You're trying to fob
me off with this inferior pair which are just not in The Amazon's class."
She strode over to me showing muscularity far beyond the
acceptance range of mortal man. With those 3-1/2 inch heels, she was
well over 1-1/2 feet taller than me. She looked disdainfully, dourly
down upon me from virtually 7 feet of Muscle Tower - down upon me
in my meagerhood. Her muscles taut, took my breath away in great
gulps. Jayzon never joked about her precious Boots.
"Ahem Dave," she said sweetly. "You want to be my enemy only
when I want you to be and not for all time, don't you?"
"Ah, yes. I reckon so."
"Dave, you only reckon so. You're a nervous unfortunate mistake
for a male when you're near me, aren't you? You're absolutely scared
petrified I am going to do something to you now which you're unable
to handle, aren't you? You're so afraid of the power and strength and
muscle which I have now. You wanted me to have this pulsating
mountain of muscle and now I've got it you're absolutely petrified of
my inhuman power. You know, I was always big and strong but even
you didn't dream of this kind of Amazonian, Samsonian, Herculean
strength where I can put one finger through your sweater and lift you
far off the ground."
SHE DID SO - easily.
I said, "It's not true Jayzon, you know that - you weren't always as
big as this."
"True Dave. When we met as thirteen year olds, we were of
similar height, you were heavier than me, though, and even though we
were always attracted to each other, you taunted me as to how much
stronger boys were than girls. We arm-wrestled, you won, we
wrestled, you won, we ran and swam, you always won. When we
went our separate ways a couple of years later, the difference was still
in your favor. When we met again three years after that, the
difference, the incredible difference, was in my favor and our attitudes
had reversed completely. I still had a fondness and affection for you,
you just went madly overboard in love with me when I told you I had
chosen a Wrestling Career. My first big fan and you've stuck beside
me all along. Now I can do to you 500 fold what you used to do to
me when we were 13. You could never do this, could you?"
I was still held at her head height, 1-1/2 feet off the ground with
just one finger. The difference in height and weight intimidated me
wickedly. She outweighed me by around 15 stones, almost three times
my weight; she out-heighten me by searing inches; she out-muscled
me with bulging, bullying biceps and cathedral-like thighs; she out-
breasted me with a chest that could smash boulders; she even out-
haired me with huge auburn blonde tresses and her beautiful face was
exactly classical Amazon and an inspiration to everything I could write
about and a Fantasy Painter's dream.
"Dave, this just isn't good enough, you know. I knew as soon as I
put these boots on they were not me, not strong, not Amazonian.
Substandard. Second rate."
She took them off and, of course, still lorded it over me, looking
down now from her natural 6 feet 8.
"How many Boots do I have at present?"
"With those Jayzon - 31 pairs."
"These aren't for me Dave. Look!"
With stunning speed and sensational strength, she ripped one boot
from top to toe on one side and then did the same on the other side of
the boot. With lightening speed she had it tied around my throat. My
attempt to prevent Jayzon from doing this was laughable. My throat
was trussed almost before I began my resistance."
The Incredible Jayzon spoke. "There you have it. See. Inferior
leather. I can tear it in seconds. Now, strong proper patent leather
would have taken me minutes. Leather needs to be strong like me, not
weak and inferior like you."
I gasped as she ripped the other boot in similar style and tied it
around the first boot at the front. The first boot's foot was pointing
outwards - I knew it - a place for an Amazon to grip.
With just barely enough room to breath, I saw her stomp out of
the room and return several minutes later, while I was still
unsuccessfully attempting to free myself.
Jayzon, the Amazon, was now dressed completely in black leather
from neck to toe. Her famous leather suit, convenient zips at the top
and belted trousers tucked into her huge Bombadini Boots; holding
long black leather gloves which she smacked impatiently into her left
hand.
"Come on Boot Slave. Surely a Boot Slave can escape from his
own charge. Here am I all ready for shopping and there you are
looking like a complete Tart. Now let The Amazon have a look at
you."
"I just don't think you should call me a Tart," I managed to say.
"Oh, you don't. What then. Wimp, Puny, Boot Slave."
"Boot Slave, please."
"It pleases you."
"Of course, it does. That's what I am after all."
"And you're also a slave to my immense biceps. See Tart, see how
my huge bulging biceps strain this superbly good leather to breaking
point."
I watched with utter amazement as her biceps stretched the leather
in a huge curve.
"Now, Tart. If this had been the same shoddy leather which now
holds you so easily as my prisoner, my biceps would have split it
effortlessly." She was, of course, correct. "Take note, Tart. This is
the kind of leather for me. Correct, serious leather."
I was amazed, but hurt. "Stop calling me, Tart," I remonstrated.
"That's what you are though. Don't you dress up like one when
I'm away? Isn't it your pleasure to wear my leathers? To try and be
like me. But you can't, can you. Something inside you wants to return
to our 13 year old days and you think by wearing my leathers some of
my strength will rub off on you. Or perhaps you're so entranced with
me you attempt to get inside me by wearing my clothes. You
absolutely adore me to the point of wanting to be me, but it's
impossible. You love me. You want me. You want to be me. Don't
you? YES!"
There was a mixed-up truth somewhere in that. Hell, I don't
know.
"Please don't talk like that Jayzon."
Her eyes steeled down hard into me, right into my very essence
and with her great height and weight advantage she twisted the boots
around my throat and then she gripped the foot of one of the tied
boots, just as I expected from experience. She gripped and lifted me
with one hand. Experience doesn't lessen the shock of an awesome
presence and strength however.
As Jayzon lifted, she spoke, with stretching leather and vicious,
but playful eyes, "You can't be this, can you Tart? This is your dream,
your adoration, your nightmare, your wet dream. All in one. You
burst with love, excitement and adoration for me when I easily do this
to you."
She was, of course, completely correct. I had, of course, an
erection. I mean she was so strong and beautiful. When I had been
13, I never thought such a strong female would turn me on, but I
cannot control myself when in the presence of her powerful awesome
strength and beauty.
"Oh damn it!" she exclaimed. "This is much too easy for me. I
need a challenge. I can lift 15 to 20 times your weight. Just look at
you. There is nothing to stop me from keeping you here all day is
there?"
I was, of course, stupefied as usual. "No. No. Nothing at all
Amazon." By this time, her arm was locked in a vertical position and I
was helpless at the end of that awesome arm.
"When's my next match, Boot Slave."
"Tonight. But you already know that, don't you?"
"Don't you dare question The Incredible Jayzon. I have a slave for
a memory don't I?"
"Yes, oh Great and Incredible Amazon."
"And now rest while I do a few one hand repetitions with you
before we go out to The Shopping Mall where you can spend your
money on me and my Boots."
I knew from practice what she wanted of me. I blurted it out
between breaths as she lifted my meager weight up and down as if I
were only a bag of sugar.
"Your contest is against Max Steinberger. You've met him three
times in the last eight months. You've won them all. The first by two
submissions to zero in Round 6; the second by one submission and a
K.O. in Round 3; the third by a vicious K.O. within 2-1/2 minutes of
Round 1. In 150 seconds you had lifted him up 10 times, smashed him
over your booted knee, not waiting for a count to begin until your
10th lift."
"Correct Tart. Now you know, what next."
"Max Steinberger is 25 years old, is 6 feet 2 tall, weighs 15 stones
2 pounds; has a 43 inch chest and 17 inch biceps. THE INCREDIBLE
JAYZON, THE AMAZON will not reveal her age and prefers to be
called 'forever young'; SHE is 6 feet 8 and weighs 22 stones 10
pounds, has a 59 inch chest and extremely magnificent 23 inch biceps."
Onward and upward forever and ever without losing any energy or
any grip upon me, she muscled me up and down without a moments
rest as I recited to her all she required to know.
I love her, I admire her, I want to be her, but more than anything else,
I just want to look at her and build up my pleasure reservoir as I drink
from her super human strength.
"Now Boot Slave, Amazon Groupie, who I allow to live with me
for my whims and moods, what else have you to tell me?"
"Even the beginning General Amazon?"
"Even the beginning Tart."
"You lost your first six contests. But since then you have been
unbeaten for over three years. Wrestled 162 matches - one on one and
won 162; wrestled 24 matches - one on two; eight matches - one on
three; and two matches - one on four. Never once beaten, males and
females - all have been vanquished. You reign supreme."
"Correct. Now let's move some space."
One final twist, one final swing and swirl around her blonding,
swishing hair and then I was planted ignobly on the floor. Her big
Bombadini Boot pinned my chest and she unravelled the torn cheap (I
admit it - she was right, of course) patent boots casting them aside.
"Time to wake up, get up and get dressed Boot Tart. You've
lazed around in my arms for too long, you've dreamed and slumbered
in my muscles too exquisitely. Time for you to buy for me."
And, of course, she was right. It was time to buy for Jayzon, the
Amazon again. What was a Squire for, but to provide for every whim
of The Mistress Amazon. I am but a pawn and pinned by her without
favor or question.
She beckoned me to rise and stand in front of her. I did so in
essence of dwarf before Giant Amazon in normal disbelief of why she
had chosen me to live with her. Not as if she wanted a really small
man like me to dominate, she could easily dominate 6 footers too. I
suppose it went back to our younger days and also the fact that I
latched onto her near the beginning of her wrestling career.
Perhaps because I missed her first six matches, saw her seventh
and have, therefore, never seen her beaten. Of course, her body was
different to that of today's - more rounded and curvier then. Now she
has huge biceps, triceps, deltoids, gluteus, pecs - you name it, Jayzon
has more of it than any other woman and I like to think too, more than
any other man.
I discovered her address, did not dare to actually meet her face to
face at first, but instead blitzed her with fan letters. She finally allowed
me to meet her again. We talked strangely at first about old times and
then became more natural. She told me I was her biggest fan. I sent
her flowers, cards, leotards, briefs and finally boots. She eventually
ordered me to move in with her. I obeyed. When she treated me like
a Tart I deserved it - she also knew I wanted it!
She strode through life in unison with the Colossal image which
she displayed to all locked in admiration.
And so, here was I, here and now, trapped sweetly like a
prehistoric mosquito caught in amber. The amber of her sheer
unblemished muscularity. Deny it. I could not. Love it. I could and
did.
Looking up the sheer cliff face of bold black leather, jet black
leather, intimidating even without a wearer, more so on Jayzon. It
breathed with her breath, it was the sensual second skin all around her
body. It had the pleasure for being closer to her than I.
And her huge black Bombadini Boots which settled at home
several inches above her extraordinary knees, were no doubt a source
of strength and power to her. Briefly, I had forgotten their size, 12 or
13 or 14's. It made no difference as her feet were huge and deliciously
exciting. The Boots themselves would weigh around five pounds,
about twice a cricket bat. Only someone, an Amazon such as Jayzon,
was capable of wearing such monstrous beauty. My feet and legs were
lost in them. I know, for she had told me to try them. Heavy as lead
on me. Could not walk in them. Yet Jayzon walked effortlessly and
powerfully in them - boldly and brassily in black toughened leather.
She spoke down to me the strong words falling like water, falling
from the top of Niagara and smashing into me, "Now get some clothes
on - AND NOT MINE - yet - perhaps tonight - after I've lessened
Steinberger in The Arts of Amazon Combat. Perhaps then, I may need
some light relief - a change of style, clothes and a workout upon you."
As always, I looked up and accepted her. She had my emotions in
permanent turmoil. I was, in short, embroiled and encased in a serious
condition of love and admiration for her.
"Don't look so serious Dave Boy. You know me. I'm all talk and
all love. Now come on, kiss me and let's go out and buy something
nice. As old Barclays Wilsen for you and new Leathers for me. Come
on, kiss me now."
As she finished saying it she lifted me up by my armpits and
expressed her dangerous loving feeling for me with a smothering kiss.
Her wide expanse of mouth enveloped me. I was in the air, feet
dangling, loving the kiss, floating in the arms of Jayzon.
You have never experienced such a titanic kiss until you've been
kissed by a huge, attractive muscular girl-woman. The fantastic effort
that goes into it can drain you, frazzle you. I mean, have you ever
seen muscles on lips? No. I damn well bet you haven't.
This one was a comparative peck. I have been in the position at
times when she has frightened me into a loving frenzy, my mouth
dwarfed by Jayzon's, a two finger pinch of my nose, our air as one but
only her able to breath. When you've experienced The Kiss of The
Amazon in that way you are driven to a frenzy of hypnotic adoration.
For it hits you that while she is expressing love for you, you also
realize that at that moment the love kiss is a symbol of
the life or death which she is able to administer. It's staggeringly
beautiful.
I got dressed for her quickly. Nothing of Jayzon's found it's way
onto me. It would have been nice if it had, but she was in no mood to
break my facies at this time of day. I came back to her in cords, a
checked shirt, round necked jumper and brogues.
"Yes Dave, that's more you. Your country manner contrasts well
with my ruthless leather. And so, once again, as we walk together
along the boulevard and terrace, no eye will be left unturned. You'll
be able to act out a million years of fantasy with me as an Amazon of
reality. You'll be able to walk and talk with me, to admire me in
public. I know this is your desire, so come on, let's just do it."
Well, what can I say? Saying is for reality. It has nothing at all to
do with the fantasy in reality. What appears down here in black and
white is unable to do justice to the events taking place in my mind, a
mind controlled by The Incredible Jayzon, the Amazon.
She drives a scarlet red Mazda BBK Sports Car as beautifully as
she wrestles. Seat of black leather. Three or four pairs of boots and
leotard bodices in the back, just in case she feels the instinctive need
for change.
She is wearing dark glasses which are ridiculous as her fans know
her anywhere she goes. For at 6 feet 8 of statuesque female beauty a
person needs to be blind or cretinous not to know her or she is in the
presence of THE AMAZON.
She parks the red jet. I attempt to keep pace with her, needing
three steps to her one. Heads turn. Faces question insensitively. Eyes
pop like plastic airhole paper used to wrap ornamental cottages.
Jayzon walks and I trot to keep her pace and we search for "The Boot
Shops Fantastic". But I know where we will eventually stop. The one
place which she is always drawn to in the end. She knows them, they
know her and after all they know her large size. And because they
know she will readily spend there, they keep a plentiful supply. I refer,
of course, to BOOTS BIZARRE.
So we enter, and of course, the eagle-eyed manager, a prissy little
man, smaller than I, yes, that's possible, spots her and fusses around
her. She does not like this type, but accepts it when she has her blood
up for the Boot Quest. And, so I have fun thinking she's thinking what
she could do to the Prissy Manager in the Wrestling Ring.
He says he admires her and hopes to see her match tonight. I bet
he does too. I bet he envies me too, for I can see his green glance at
me from time to time. It's a racing certainty he'd love to be at her boot
heel in the ring, as well as in his shop as he helps her on with a pair
of nape leather wrestling boots in brown and green.
Jayzon tells him she's not in the mood for that color even though
the leather is exquisite.
He brings out half a dozen boxes.
The Incredible Amazon is not pleased, not well pleased at all.
Daggers are thrown from eyes and he receives the piercing message of
The Muscle Lady. She had many men under her
control with a look here, a flex there and if those fail, then, of course,
she has the strength to back up her convictions.
He should have known better. He returned with what he hoped
might work. This time he'd got it right.
A beautiful high lengthened black pair, not the typical wrestling
boots. They came high above her knees, cut away at the backs with
lots and lots of straps for her and I to play with. I loved them the
moment I saw them and I knew the look. So did she, despite the fact
they were not her usual kind of wrestling boots. These would be
different, for as well as straps, they also had little tucks and flaps
which mystified.
"Would Madam like to try them?"
"My size Fredericko?"
"Of course, my Lady. I should know by now."
They were flat heeled. Brutes of Boots. Had about eight loops
down the back of each and these loops contained different colored
straps - red, white, green, gold, silver, blue, yellow and purple.
Jayzon tried them on. "Come on then you two, what are you
waiting for. Get these straps fastened." We both looked at each
other, silently, and then obeyed. A race to see who could be first with
the fastening. He took the right, I the left. He beat me.
Unexpectedly, I was full of nerves, he was used to it, daily. The boots
looked magnificent. She strode around like a female model in the
Gestapo. My feelings were high as was something else.
And then she downed me. "Brilliant Fredericko. Truly brilliant.
You have excelled yourself. And she lifted the prissy little butterfly up
and kissed him. Should have been me. Should have been me!
"Price Fredericko?"
"Only . . ."
"Now my small man. No 'only's'. Boots are not only's - as my
Biceps are not only's."
"Forgive me Lady Jayzon. 275."
"Pay the girl Dave. Now Fredericko, tell me, now that I am in the
mood. A little bird tells me there is a new range of boots just out, in
rubber with large heels. Are you able to oblige me?"
The huge Amazon walked off with her arm around the prissy
manager. I stumbled over the check and when she re-emerged 15
minutes later, she was back in her Bombadinis and carrying two
parcels.
"Dave! Another check please - 350 - pay the man."
They were both smiling and I noticed a mark across his neck
where, well, surely she could not have tested the strength of the boots
on him, could she?
"Gladly Jayzon. May I see them?"
"No. Later. Suffice to say I have now purged the depression of
your purchase. Oh, and give Fredericko a couple of free tickets for
tonight. He is my special guest."
She stood over the prissy manager, dominating him magnificently,
lifting him up with one hand. She just could not get out of the habit of
picking me up! (Much to my envy in this instance.)
"Thank you my Lady. It will be a pleasure to watch you perform."
(Uugghh. He was disgusting.)
Jayzon responded in the only way she knew how, "A free pair of
boots when I win?"
A free pair with "Boots Bizarre" embossed in gold letters for your
next match," responded Fredericko.
"I can work with that," said Jayzon. "Come on now Davey. No
time to lose."
The Incredible Jayzon was in an undeniable, unbelievable mood
when we returned to her home. We had shopped for books too. A
couple of old 60's Barclay Wilsen's for me and a fascinating Military
Uniform Book centered around the Napoleonic Wars of the 1800's for
her. She has this great sense of style and intends to have made for
herself a full dress Hussar uniform, hopefully soon, for private
rehearsal, before her next match. And also she had returned home
with three pairs of boots to add to her collection.
Then on to the night in The Stadium of Stars open air arena in The
Grand Spectrum of Desert Lake. She was to perform her art as only a
woman of her stature knew how.
We both sensed that there was something special in her new Big
Black Strapped Boots, huge and imposing for such a Giant amongst
humanity. Large Boots upon a Mighty Amazon
of unique ability and strength.
She could not and would not be beaten by a mere man morsel.
For the first time she launched something upon the wrestling
public which I knew she had been perfecting for some time. The
Stadium naturally was packed 'high to the rafters'. In essence The
Incredible Jayzon was 'unique' and she packed theaters and stadiums
wherever she went.
People were attracted to her incredible strength and wrestling
skills. And it was very obvious that her matches were not fixed. Just
one look could tell even the most ardent doubter that here was a
member of the female race who was far and away stronger than
anyone had ever seen before and as attractive as a golden dawn after a
night of hurricanes.
She was ready to rock a baby, ready to pound and pummel her
poor unfortunate opponent to the far side of the Stadium, nay to the
far side of the Universe. Born to run wild with immeasurable strength.
And the beginning was truly wonderful in every way. With The
Amazon's entrance spectacular to the strains of Wilhelm's, "The
Boadiceau Fanfare". Resplendent in all black; leather bustier, briefs
and new long Black Strapped Boots - Broot Boots, almost thigh boots
- the whole effect making her glamorous, gorgeous and dangerous to
her thousands of fans gathered for the great event.
Max Steinberger entered the ring and was instantly dwarfed by
some six long, feminine long, strictly long, inches; 108 heavy, mighty
heavy, Amazonly heavy, pounds. Anywhere else, in most other
company, he would have looked big and strong. But here in the
presence of The Incredible Amazon he looked, by comparison, pale
and weak and below normal. There was a time for man, but not when
the time was now; there was a place for man but not here in The
Stadium of Stars - when and now Jayzon was present.
She pulled the trick before the contest began. She requested any
six men to come from the audience to test her strength. The six
arrived and I was unable to believe it. I had been upstaged in public
for there was Fredericko from Boots Bizarre. I should have know
better than to trust him - the work - he just would not miss any
opportunity to get in on the act with Jayzon. But, of course, I couldn't
blame him either.
Jayzon lined them up from a corner post, Fredericko, of course,
managing to get closest to her. Then she put her hand on Fredericko's
chest. "Now, all six of you try to move away from the post and push
me back."
There were gasps and shouts from the audience. A lot thinking
even The Incredible Jayzon could not manage this, for there must have
been some 70-80 stones of male trying to force her back.
"Go on, PUSH," she goaded them, "surely six brave men can push
one mere woman."
They tried desperately, but to no avail. Even the domino effect of
the men pushing each other outward from the corner post made no
impression upon Jayzon's huge hand. She took the strain easily, held
them there easily and then just as easily iron pumped the biceps of her
free arm.
"You're not trying. Now, more effort men - go for it."
Nonchalantly she held them fast as Max prowled the ring
impatiently, fuming, shouting, "Come on woman, I'm not in the mood
for playing games."
"Oh, but I am darling and you'll get your game in just a moment."
"This isn't part of the match woman."
She still held the six men while carrying on the confrontation.
"Max, I'll play with you shortly, now keep cool."
"Play, PLAY woman. Play nothing bitch. This is my revenge
match - I'm gonna beat the hell out of you. You just won't know
what's hit you this time."
"Max, darling," she said sweetly, her long golden hair flowing all
around her lovely face and huge shoulders, her hair broken to two
Hussar-style plaits on each side of her face, she had picked the style up
from her new book, "darling, now I've already beaten you three times,
tonight you must wait upon my pleasure."
"Hell no - I'll finish you now." He went for her from behind
attempting to grab her. She even saw that coming. Her free, bicep
flexing arm grabbed him viciously in a side head lock. Fredericko was
enjoying this as she spoke, "Excuse me gentlemen, for I have a little
business to attend to."
She released her six chargers who fled from the ring as quick as
from a field with a raging kinghorn bull in it.
"You dare to interfere with The Amazon when she is playing."
Her side head-lock was a complete brute. It was so intense, such
as her weight and strength advantage, she could have finished him with
one devastating muscle crush. Instead she spun and whirled him
around several times and then spun him out of her grip and out of the
ring.
He returned to be greeted with flying head scissors which spun his
whole body like a cartwheel to the canvas. Immediately she was on
him with her booted legs crossed around his throat, standing
majestically over him.
"Like my new boots Steinberger - real big man beaters these -
Amazonian Obeyance Weapons." Her grip was such that she was
twisting him to where she desired. She did it for several minutes
despite his protestations.
She released him, but before he had time to even think, she was on
him with a big body scissor. Big thigh muscles and calf muscles
straining leather around his accepting flesh - hard and grinding, painful
and excruciating again for minutes.
"Time for you to admire my boots more closely. They gripped
around his head and for ten minutes she put him through her Boot
Torture Rack, again twisting him around the canvas, lifting him off the
canvas in the boot grip and pounding him down viciously, time after
time after time.
He was exhausted and completely out on his feet. Jayzon stood to
her full 6 feet 8, Steinberger could not get off the canvas. No need for
him to rise for she had enough strength for him as she lifted him onto
her shoulders.
"Remember this darling Max, from our third encounter when I
beat you with ten lifts and drops. Well, if you thought that was good,
just watch me now."
With incredible, titanic strength, she lifted him above her head and
back onto her shoulders FIVE times, the sixth time she let him drop
straight down her back and pinned his chest with her massive boot
heel.
Then she bent down and amazingly with just one had took him by
the throat, straight arm lifted him, dropped him onto her massive
shoulder, bicep-pose crushed his chest and flicked him onto the canvas
where, once again, her big boot pinned his chest oh so helplessly.
For the third lift, she picked him up by his armpits again lifting him
high above her head and throwing him onto the ropes, whereupon he
bounced right back at her. And this was when she unleashed her
incredible bicep punch upon an unsuspecting Steinberger and crowd,
except for one, me. She held her right arm horizontally and flexed
those fantastic Amazonian biceps, hitting him plumb on the jaw.
Sickeningly he hit the floor.
The Incredible Jayzon's fourth lift was exactly the same as the third
again culminating in the massive bicep punch. The fifth and sixth lifts
were also exactly the same but with each time the end bicep punch was
even more fantastic so that by the time she did it a seventh time her
timing was so exact that she was able to hit him with such titanic
tonnage of force she
pounded and catapulted him straight through the ropes.
Jayzon, the Incredible Amazon, was now in a state of pure
orgasmic strength and nothing could save the puny helpless man
wrestler. With panther-like speed, she vaulted the ropes. Steinberger
was staggered as he witnessed her bearing down upon him. With
fantastic strength for the eighth time, she lifted him high above her
head, bent her knees, crouched and flung him back into the ring. She
walked the top rope and launched herself down upon him, boot first,
smack into his chest.
His body was limp as she stood over him, her huge breasts
stretching the fabric of her leather bustier to breaking point. She
strode around the ring pumping up her biceps and her chest, the
bustier split asunder with an audible rip. (It was excellent leather too,
not like my shoddy substitute.) Her gigantic breasts were now as free
as her biceps and the magnificent Jayzon was flexing them in tune with
her huge bulging biceps as she walked the ring.
The Amazon had not yet finished with her puny male adversary.
Her ninth lift saw the muscular beauty taking him by an arm and a leg,
lifting him high and dry again and dropping his back across her heavily
leather booted knee. He was whimpering his submission to her but
how can a Goddess Amazon hear a puny mortal man.
Her tenth lift again was by an arm and a leg, and again a
tremendous back smash across the black leather of her booted knee.
She dropped his head to the canvas, still holding one leg, her huge
boot sole encased his face in black leather as he looked up to see huge
breasts and a beautiful face which now had the grim look of
destruction upon it. He was lost and knew it - hadn't troubled her a
smidgeon.
For now she had him in her famous torture rack. Both of her
booted feet were pinning his armpits to the floor and her mighty arms
were stretching his legs. Suddenly her boots released him and he
coiled like a spring upwards over The Amazon's head and down her
back. He yowled in pain as his back went down her back and his spine
stretched. Like lightening she held his ankles with only one hand and
reaching down she pulled his head between her legs, by his hair. The
Torture Rack Amazonis Stage 2 - his spine stretched helplessly across
her big broad back. Her tremendous weight difference and her
inherent superior strength meant she had little difficulty in
accomplishing such a breathtaking move.
She released his ankles, pulled his head a little and had him a
prisoner of her indestructible, ox-muscled thighs. This was no place
for a mere man to be in a situation such as this. She clasped him like a
Venus Fly Trap. Her biceps ballooned her breast, bellowed and her
thighs thwarted his every move.
The Amazon spoke softly to him, "Now, Max, my darling, if you
had allowed me to play my game before the match I would have been
gentle with you and played with you. But Max, my darling, little man
you were very naughty and very impolite to interrupt me so I have had
no alternative but to give you lessons in Amazonian strength for our
next meeting."
He attempted to form the word, "Next time, bitch, next time I'll
have you."
She caught the gist of his words and replied so only he could hear,
"I'm afraid not, sweetie, because it is now time for the world to see a
new face to The Incredible Jayzon, the Amazon", her voice became ice
cold, "I am going to break you." Now wrestle me, I want this to look
like an accident."
She released him and had called his bluff. He didn't have an ounce
of strength left in his body. For as her Titanic Thighs released their
prey, he slumped to the canvas.
She placed her huge, big boot on the back of his neck. Nobody
knew with how much strength, but she held him down for a full 90
seconds and then suddenly left the ring.
* * * * * * * * *
At her home, much later in the night, I said to Jayzon, "Just what
did you do to him Jayze. Says he never wants to wrestle again." The
big lusty Amazon was toying with her new large rubber thigh boots
and a gladiatorial leather bodice.
"Sapped every ounce of strength he had, Dave. If he hadn't of
gone, then I probably would have broken his back across my knee with
my next move. This is no lie Dave, I'm becoming stronger every
match. You saw tonight he just did not get one good hold on me.
When I'm going that well, there's just no stopping me, I can do
anything."
"And your bicep punch too - I didn't dream it."
"And I didn't sleep fight you either. I just had the urge to take you
apart in the middle of the night and did so - and I'll probably do it
again when the urge takes me."
"I'll look forward to it," I said with glee.
"Yes, I know you will. So the next time, I have an idea for a new
move at 3 o'clock at night. You'll be the first to know about it."
She was trying on alternately, Hussar boots and uniform, gladiator
bodice, helmet and leather laced sandal boots, as well as the rubber
boots.
"Mmmm," she purred, "all of these are very good. I'm sure I'll be
able to use them in the future."
"How about tonight with little me," I ventured shyly.
"Yes, possibly. Prepare some supper while I slip into something
distinctly weird and fantastic. By the way, Dave, my little anti-hero
boot slave, remind me of my next match."
"Four days hence on the 23rd, you're fighting The Sydney
Truckers, two Australians, both bigger than Steinberger; Dan Trucker
6 feet 5, 17-1/2 stones; Wayne Trucker 6 feet 4 and around
17 stones. You've met them twice before . . ."
"Enough Dave, tell me of the day. If I were you, I'd put your shirt
on me, to have broken them both within 12-1/2 minutes. I'll toy with
them for 10 minutes and then flatten them both after that. Now I'm
hungry."
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