Innocence
(After receiving many messages, I have revised this story to meet the forum guidelines. For new readers, if it feels a little off in places, that’s because content from the original story has been removed. Please feel free to reply here if you want follow ups!)
Hi! My name is Brian. I am a college sophomore and this is the story of how my life completely changed. But first, a little background.
I live in a fairly traditional suburban household with my parents and little sister. Not one for physical or social activity, I spend most of my time playing video games or watching movies in my room. A proper nerd, I guess you could call me. That tag would also be supported by my average height (5’7) and thin frame. But it’s the way of life I’ve chosen and I’m proud of it. If I could I carry the “nerd” tag as a badge of honour.
My sister Stacy, on the other hand is as different from me as possible. She’s been doing gymnastics since she was very little, probably 6 or 7, and is always bringing home various medals and trophies. She’s also extremely extroverted, and already has a far larger friend group than mine, despite being a year younger than me. With her friends and daily training, her life sounds exhausting to me to be honest. But oh well, at least it keeps her out of the house for most of the day, or else she’d be jumping around and annoying me.
So the thing is, I haven’t really been the greatest older brother (though not the worst either). Growing up, I’ve always found her high energy very annoying, and found excuses not to be in the same room as her, as much as possible. When we do hang out together, she speaks non stop or tries to get me to play some crazy tiring game with her. It takes all of my patience not to lash out at her. But she’s my sister and I love her, so I swallow my frustration and just try to avoid her as much as possible. She doesn’t seem to mind it either, she’s so busy in her own world. These days we only really spend time alone when my parents go out for the night and I have to babysit her. This is the story of one such fateful night, one that would completely change this status quo forever.
It was a week after Stacy’s eighteenth birthday. The night started off regularly enough. Our parents left in the evening, leaving me in charge. Despite both of us being adults in our own right, I did like being in charge of her, as an elder brother. No sooner had they left, than Stacy started asking what we’re going to do. Usually, I just put on whatever movie Stacy wants to watch. This ensures that she’ll shut up and watch the movie instead of biting my ears off. Then, I send her straight to bed, thereby avoiding any chance of conversation. This time, the movie she chose was “Million Dollar Baby”.
So, there we were, sitting on the couch, watching the movie. Well, she was watching it. I had stopped paying attention a few minutes into it and was absentmindedly scrolling on my phone. Apparently it was a sports film, which is an instant turn off for me. I gotta admit, the chick (Hillary Swank, as Stacy would later tell me her name is), was kinda hot though. However, that wasn’t enough to keep me engaged. Halfway through the film, Stacy suddenly reached for the remote and hit pause.
“Boxing is soo cool and badass. I wish I could do it”, she said in her distinct perky way.
I felt my elder brother bravado kick in. Not looking up from my phone, I said, “I have some experience in that area. I can show you some tricks some time.”
This was technically true. I had played enough boxing video games to know the names of the moves and the basic rules. Besides, it’s not like I was gonna act on my claim, this was just to score some points in front of my sister.
Then I noticed something weird. Stacy was uncharacteristically silent. Looking up from my phone, I looked at her and immediately regretted opening my mouth. She was making her wide-eyed “puppy dog” face, the one she makes when she wants something.
“What’s up?”, I asked, fearing I knew the answer.
“Please can we do it right now please please pleaseee?”, she started screeching.
My brain furiously started searching for excuses.
“But what about the movie? Don’t you want to finish it?”
“The fun part’s over. She doesn’t even box after this. Please let’s do it! You said you’d show me some time. No time like the present.”
“Okay but aren’t you tired? You had college then training. Boxing takes a lot of effort.”
“No I am not. And it isn’t even 8 yet. That gives us plenty of time to practice.”
I was rapidly running out of ideas.
“Uhhh okay I hear what you’re saying but where would we even do it?”
“What do you mean? We’ll do it here. We can move the couch and clear up space”, she said.
I countered “No, I meant we don’t have a ring. How’ll I teach you the rules in a living room?”
This stumped her. For a moment I thought I had won, and was about to suggest another movie, when she suddenly perked up again and said, “You can teach me all the moves, that doesn’t require a ring!”
I breathed a sigh of defeat. “Fine.”
“Yayyyieee thank you thank you thank you!” she started screaming excitedly at the top of her voice. It was kind of cute, not gonna lie. Then she calmed down and said, “I’ll quickly go up and change into my workout clothes.” And just like that, she vanished.
Meanwhile, I cleared space in the middle of the living room by moving furniture around. It was harder than I had expected, and I was tired before we even began. Then, I went over everything I knew about boxing in my head, and tried to fill in the gaps by googling stuff on my phone. I even threw a few punches, to try to get the hang of it. Just then, I heard her bouncing down the stairs. I looked up and got my first shock of the night.
Stacy had changed into a cropped tank and spandex, which left most of her young body bare for all to see. And see I did, in immense wide-eyed, open-mouthed awe, as my sister was built like a TANK! As she walked towards me, the world seemed to slow down, so as to give me time to take it all in. Her face was that of the cute yet annoying little girl who lived in the room next to me. But, neck onwards it was a whole different story. Two large veins ran down either side of her taut neck, leading to huge round shoulders. Her arms, hanging at her side, were definitely thicker than mine, but looked more shapely, with veins crisscrossing them. Her body hadn’t fully developed yet, but her top was still sticking out because of her hard pectorals. Below that, her midriff showcased a perfect set of abs, which looked as impenetrable as they were impressive. Her mammoth thighs were alternating between ballooning and splitting down the middle with each step she took.
My mind flashed back to all the gymnastics meets and the hours and hours she spent working out. I guess that, in part because she preferred to wear baggy and comfortable clothes in the house and mostly because I had been ignoring her for so long, I had missed this fairly obvious reality; my little sister for the most muscular girl I had ever seen! Heck she looked like one of my video game characters.
I guess I had been staring in trance for a bit too long, when Stacy suddenly snapped her fingers in front of my eyes and said,
“Hellooo, earth to doofus!”
“Ummm, wha—“ I responded, oh so eloquently, still disoriented from the shock.
“I said, we can start now,” she said, seemingly oblivious to my reaction to her physique. I decided, in the moment, to try and get her appearance out of my mind and get this “training” over with as soon as possible.
“Sure, let’s begin,” I said.
Very quickly I went over the basics of the game. I taught her the attacking and defensive stances, as best as I could remember from the game. I also told her the rules; that anything from the waist and up is fair game, no biting, scratching etc.
Finally, I showed her whatever basic punches I could remember, hooks, jabs, uppercuts, that sort of thing. Throughout my demonstration, Stacey paid rapt attention, trying to copy my moves and chiming in every now and then with questions. It felt good, having her listen to me so patiently. Wanting to end in style, I concluded by saying “The only rule you need to remember is, hit your opponent while avoids being hit yourself. That’s all there is to it.” Stacy nodded gravely, as if I had given some profound advice.
With that, I proudly turned and started going to the sofa to keep it back in its initial position, when Stacy grabbed my hand and asked,
“What’re you doing?”
“I said “that’s all there is to it”. That usually means that something’s over.”, I replied, curtly.
“Hahaha smartass, now get back here”, the pipsqueak said.
Surprised, I turned.
“Now what do you want? I said we’re done.”
“How can we be done? I didn’t even get a chance to practice my moves,” she whined.
“We don’t have any punching bags for practice. I told you it’s useless without equipment”, I said, getting annoyed with her again.
“We don’t need gloves or punching bags to spar, do we?”, she asked.
“No, why?” I asked, getting suspicious about her intentions.
“You and I can spar! Pleaseee I still have a lot of time before bedtime.”
Now this was not a possibility I had considered. It was one thing acting out video games, but I had never actually been in an actual fight (if you don’t count the “fights” I had with my bullies growing up.) Not that I was afraid of my little sister beating me, but I just didn’t want to get into a fight period.
I said, “No, absolutely not.”
She made her pouty face again. I tried to be gentle and make her see reason.
“First of all you’re much smaller than me.”
This wasn’t true. She was tall for her age and came up to my chin already. And with her added muscle mass, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were in the same weight category.
“Secondly, you haven’t had any real practice. You could get hurt.”
As usual, my sister was very convincing with her response, “I know you’ll go easy on me. And plus I’m not that much smaller than you”, she said.
As she said the last line, my eyes inadvertently went to her muscular body. Wanting to change the topic, I decided to give in to her demands. I figured I could just humour her for a bit, and then call it for the night.
“Alright, but if you get hurt, I’m not the one mom blames, I said.”
“Deal!”, she shouted enthusiastically.
So there I was, assuming fighting stance in front of my 12 year old sister. She looked positively giddy to start, bouncing on the balls of her feet and practicing her punches in the air. I first thought we should keep track of rounds, but then decided against it, mostly because this was practice but also because I couldn’t remember how the round/point system worked. Anyway this wasn’t going to last long.
I said I was ready and gave her a fist bump, which she graciously accepted. Then we both assumed the same stance, both as clueless as the other as to what to do, and then we were off.
For a few moments we kept standing in the same spot, looking at each other, unsure of what to do. Then, I decided to take the lead, being the older brother.
I threw out a medium-jab aimed straight at her shoulder. To my surprise, she easily sidestepped it, not breaking eye contact with me.
Impressed, I decided to up my game. Not to hurt her, but just to assert my dominance in that moment. I aimed a left jab at straight at her face, which she amazingly evaded by bending her head towards my right. I had been expecting this, and aimed a right hook onto her right shoulder. In an athletic display unlike anything I had ever seen in boxing, in videogames or otherwise, Stacy arched her back backwards, bending it into a U, completely avoiding my oncoming fist; which again met air. As I pulled it back, she straightened back up, and started bouncing up and down and staring at me again as if nothing had happened.
Now I was getting annoyed. I had thrown three punches, and all of them had managed to hit absolutely nothing. I carefully planned my next move and decided to go for a classic left right left combo. As I let my punches lose, however, I forgot to keep my guard up. After side stepping my first left jab, in blinding speed, Stacy’s arm shot out. BLORP! Her fist buried deep into my solar plexus and it blooming hurt! I had never been punched that hard. Where did she learn how to punch like that?
My insides were throbbing as Stacy pulled her fist back and reassumed her stance (something that I was reminded of when I saw her). Not wanting to show my pain on my face, I managed a fake smile and said, through gritted teeth, “Good punch”.
She immediately broke into giggles.
“Hehehehe thanks. I had thought that it wasn’t one.”
Come to think of it, she was right. Her punch had had terrible form and barely even qualified as a jab. Then why had it hurt so much?
“You can go a little harder on me, I guess I can take it,” she said, seriously.
I tried to maintain a stable voice.
“Yes I guess I have to stop going so easy on you, twirp”, I lied.
As my stomach pain subsided I looked at Stacy’s bulging bicep. It kept flexing and relaxing as she was bouncing. It was ……intimidating? Then I looked at her smiling face. Was she toying with me? She had to have known that I had been trying. She had to have known that that her punch would hurt. I decided to teach her a lesson now.
Methodically, I started executing whatever moves I’d learned in my games. And ever single time, invariably, Stacy would find some amazing way to evade my onslaught. Her gymnastics had made her surprisingly nimble, especially considering the muscles on her body. She was able to twist and turn in ways that most professional boxers couldn’t, which gave her a huge advantage. I’d go left, she’d go right. I’d aim at her face, she’d duck out of reach. I’d feign a punch but she would know my intentions. There was nothing I could do to touch her. After about 5 minutes of this Stacy started giggling again and asked, laughingly,
“How’re you so slow?”
That comment was the final straw. My frustration boiled over and I lost all control, letting loose. Instead of keeping my guard up, I started throwing haymakers at her left and right. Incredibly, Stacy again kept dodging and Strafing all my punches, without needing to even block once. It’s like her body was loaded with springs instead of bones, and she could manoeuvre it however she pleased.
I kept going after her, hard, tiring myself in the process. Actually, I hadn’t been this tired in a long time. We had been going for over 10 minutes and I had failed to land a single punch. I was feeling hulimilated, but Stacey didn’t seem fazed, her full concentration on our fight. My movement was getting slower, my breathing heavier. Stacey, on the other hand, looked calm and fresh. The only sign of exertion on her part of the sheen of perspiration that now covered her body. Combine that with her gymnast muscles, and even I had to admit that my sister looked like an athletic badass. I started to see her new light, respecting all her athletic achievements. I couldn’t dream of that she was displaying were nothing short But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to cause her some pain somehow.
As I send my right arm forward for my umpteenth haymaker, Stacey suddenly changed tactic and put her left up to block. I sensed danger but was too late. ‘BLARF!’ Her right fist shot out like a piston and blasted into my stomach.
Now in my expert opinion, considering that I had no guard whatsoever, an uppercut would’ve been more effective in that scenario. But it doesn’t really matter because it FREAKING HURT. I could feel the air get forced out of my body as her fist receded. But I didn’t have time to recuperate as I saw her lifting her left arm. ‘BAM!’ Before I knew it her fist had hit my left shoulder like a ton of bricks, making me fear that she had dislocated it. And she wasn’t done. As I saw her move her right arm again, I immediately instinctively put mine on guard and the very next moment her fist (which was coming for my face) hit my forearms, causing them to absorb its power. And just like that our roles had been reversed; Stacy was now the aggressor and I was trying to protect myself.
Except that I didn’t have Stacy’s awesome flexibility and coordination to back me up, so I was just stuck with using my forearms to bear the brunt of her onslaught.
One after the other her fist kept hitting my arms in different places. There was no technique to her punches whatsoever, it was just sheer brute strength. As I looked down at my sister, her fists shooting out like pistons and beating my arms to a pulp, covered in sweat that just highlighted her magnificent muscles which gave her the strength and stamina to keep going forever if she wanted to, the reality finally dawned on me. She wasn’t just a little 12 year old girl. She wasn’t even my little sister who was bratty and annoying. In that moment, she was just an athletic muscle monster who was hell bent on beating me up. That was the first time I ever felt fear for my sister. I had to put an end to this.
“Stacy…” I started but my voice came out weak and trembling. Mercifully, she didn’t seem to hear. Trying to sound dominant, I said, loudly,
“Stacy…enough practice for one day. Let’s end this for now!”
Stacy didn’t stop. Instead, she replied while keeping her punches going.
“What? No way! I still have over an hour before bedtime!”, she said, in her normal whiny voice.
I couldn’t comprehend how her voice didn’t waver even a little bit, while she was clearly putting in so much effort into the punches on my arms, which by this time, were barely holding on for life. I felt even more intimidated.
“Stacy….please let’s just do something else. Anything you like”, I said, unable to stop myself.
I hated myself as soon as those words came out. This was the first time I had requested Stacy for something. Up until now I had always been the one giving orders. My voice too had been so whiny, as if I was begging her to stop. But Stacy either didn’t notice all that, or didn’t care.
Instead, she simply said,
“Nope, this is so easy and fun! Boxing rules. Thank you so much for teaching me!”
I wanted to tell her that she wasn’t doing anything I taught her. Instead she was just throwing random punches in all directions. But I was too busy protecting myself from getting hit.
As Stacy kept punching me, her confidence was growing, and so was the strength and frequency of her punches. If the first punches had felt like pistons, the ones coming now felt like canonballs. Moreover, she had started feigning every now and then, a move I had taught her not 10 minutes ago, causing me to block in the wrong direction, giving her an opening. Whenever that happened, I was left defenceless to her fist, which would then catch me in the stomach or the chest, leaving me in a world of pain. Whenever her feigns worked, she would giggle girlishly, humbling me even more. But until now, for the most part, I had managed to block most of her punches through my arms.
This didn’t last long. My arms which had been slowly losing steam against her volley of punches, finally completely gave way, becoming useless to me and hanging lifelessly at my sides. Unbothered, Stacy waded in, her fists moving in flurry that was coming at 2 a second by this point.
‘POW!’ Her left fist hit my chest, pushing me back. ‘BLAM!’ Her right hit my left shoulder in powerful hook. Involuntarily, I started stepping back, while Stacy kept going, matching my steps, like a huntress stalking her prey. I was actually really scared of what she might do to me at this point. I attempted to lift my arms but they wouldn’t budge. In came her fist. ‘BLARP!’ My stomach caved in again, no resistance to speak of. I felt nauseous and want her to stop.
“Stac—“ ‘THUD!’ A fist hit my left cheek, cutting me off mid sentence. This was the first time I’d been hit in the face. My head started ringing. ‘BLARG!’ Another jab to my solar plexus. Her jabs felt like haymakers. There was no respite. ‘BAM!’ ‘BAM!’ ‘BAM!’ Three more to my chest. I doubted it can take any more, as I saw Stacy stop taking steps forward. Suddenly I realised that I had reached the wall, leaving me with nowhere to run. Stacy started punching with renewed vigour, trying all the combos that I had taught her.
Her bicep contracts, ‘BOOM!’ A powerful uppercut rattles my jaw as the back of my head hits the wall. ‘POW!’ ‘POW!’ ‘POW!’ A barrage of at least 10 punches hit my waist, completely demolishing it to jelly. No sound escaped my lips. Then Stacy pauses for a second, recoils her entire body, and as I watch, punches straight through to my chest- her first ‘proper’ punch- ‘CRACK’ I hear the distinct sound of my ribs cracking. In panic, I turn my back towards her.
Stacy, however, has no plans of stopping.
“Hehehe that was cool” she comments on her punch and continues with her jabs, this time to my kidney. ‘BAM!’ ‘BAM!’ ‘BAM!’ They make an ugly sound as they hit my back. It hurts so much I could scream, but my pride stops me from doing it. I turn back around, unable to Take the punishment.
As soon as I turn around, ‘BOINGGG!’ my nose meets her flying fist. Immediately, blood starts pouring out. “Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer”, she sings, cheerfully, completely oblivious to the pain she’s causing me. I realise that this is all just fun practice for her. Her childlike innocence can’t see beyond the sport. ‘BORF!’ Her fist crashes against my right eye, leaving no doubt the foundations of a shiner. ‘BAM!’ Another one of those horrific jabs cuts my cheek open, letting loose a fresh stream of blood.
“Boxing is soooo much fun . You were right Bri! Hit your opponent and avoid getting hit. That’s all there is to it!”, she says, in her high pitched voice. It used to be the voice of annoyance. In that moment, it makes me flinch.
Eventually, her fists slow down, now focusing on strength over quantity. ‘BLORF!’ Her right fist buries itself in a haymaker right into my solar plexus again, causing me to heave. ‘BANG’ her left hits my eye, giving me another matching shiner. I’m dazed, barely staying on my feet. I hear giggling as her fists stop. I look up, quizzically.
She points her blood stained finger at my face and says, “Heheheh you look funny”. With my shiners and blood and weird, lost expression, I bet I do. As I keep looking at her finger, it forms a fist again, and in the next second,
‘BOOORP’ ‘WHOOOSH’ It enters my gut, and all remaining air escapes from my body, causing me to bend forward. I see her bicep contract, knowing what’s coming. In that moment, I just want to reach out and feel that bicep, feel it’s power, it’s sheer brute strength that completely destroyed me. But I can’t. My hands don’t work. I curse my luck as a fist comes flying towards my jaw, cracking her knuckles against my chin. ‘CRACK!’
The world turns black before I hit the floor.
Part 2
‘SPLASH!’ I was jolted awake by water thrown straight at my face. Instinctively, I tried to get up immediately, but couldn’t. As my vision came into focus, I saw Stacy bent over me, jug in hand. From my perspective, she looked absolutely terrifying. Her body was still pumped, with her muscles shining in all their exuberance. Her legs and abs seem to go on forever, as defined as they were beautiful. Her taut arms seemed to be taunting me, reminding me of the destruction that they had just caused. Her cute face, however, was rife with concern.
“OH THANK GOD”! She shrieked, in an outpour of relief. Then, she continued, “I tried waking up you by shaking you and by shouting in your ears. Nothing seemed to work! I was so scared. What happened to you?”
What happened to me? Did she not know what happened? The reality was just too hard to acknowledge. Instead, I said,
“Go to your room.” My voice came out meeker than I had expected.
Stacy looked confused. “But…my bedtime…”
“I SAID, GO TO YOUR ROOM!” I shouted loudly, interrupting her and causing my already broken ribs to feel a sudden blaze of pain.
She looked dejected but didn’t protest. Slowly, she turned and went up the stairs.
Once she was gone, I started collecting my bearings. In what was one of the hardest tasks I’ve ever had to perform, I managed to get myself up and walk, slowly, to the washroom to get cleaned up. The mirror showed a grizzly picture. My face was completely unrecognisable. My nose was caved in, my jaw was probably cracked, if not completely broken. My eyes sported identical black shiners and my checks had red gashed on them. No wonder Stacy had said I looked funny.
Stacy. My 12 year old sister. She did this. Using nothing but her fists. When did she get so strong and coordinated? “How’re you so slow”, she had asked. Not taunting me, but genuinely confused. It had all been so easy for her, and I hadn’t been able to land a single punch! Her laughs echoed in my head, causing me to shiver. It all just seemed like a horrible nightmare.
I cleaned up the blood on my face, and applied ointment to my bruises. My waist and chest had become a pattern of brown and black, indicating the spots wherever her formidable fists had landed.
After I’d treated myself the best that I could, I headed back to the living room to get rid of the dried up blood. Finally, I set the furniture back like it was supposed to be, and headed to my room to try and get some sleep. It was not hard, I had been exhausted.
In the morning I left home before Stacy or my parents got up. That meant that I didn’t see them for the rest of the day until dinner. At dinner, when my mom saw my condition she threw a fit. I could see Stacy in the background, afraid of what was going to happen to her once our parents figured out that she did it. However, I just said that my school bullies were at it again. My dad said that this was beyond regular playground violence and my mom insisted that we press charges, but I convinced them to drop it and not make a big deal. Stacy looked confused and grateful at my lies, no doubt wondering why I didn’t tell on her. In my mind the answer was clear, the truth was just too embarrassing to come out. Plus, seeing Stacy sit there, her comfortable baggy clothes effectively hiding her brilliant physique, with not a single stain on her, was enough to remind me of the horrors of the previous night, and I would do anything not to relive it.
Over the next few days, I avoided Stacy more aggressively than I had been in the past. I desperately tried not to cross paths with her, come what may. I couldn’t risk her bringing up our “fight”, it would be too embarrassing. Stacy didn’t seem to notice or care, for her I imagine, I was being the same distant brother I had always been. Though this worked during the day, at night I wouldn’t be able to escape seeing her, as she would haunt my dreams. No sooner had I slept, I would hear he laughing voice, and see the determine look on her face, she she pummelled me with her punches, her magnificent muscles powering her on. I would see right bicep flex in slow motion, her abs contract and she twisted her body, coiling it, and then her fist come for my jaw, while her face showed just plain confidence and no sign of struggle whatsoever. Usually, at this point, I would wake up in the middle of the night, with my throat dry.
And so it went on for the next couple of weeks. Apart from the loss of sleep and general restricted movement, life pretty much went back to normal. As my physical wounds healed, so did my mental scars. I had somehow convinced myself that as long as I continued to avoid Stacy, there would be no further incidents. Of course, that’s not how life works.
One morning before breakfast, I slept in late. When I got up I rushed to the washroom in a hurry. When I reached it, Stacy was just getting out. Having woken up at her regular time (her school starts later than mine) she had just gotten freshened up. I cursed myself for not realising the time. When she saw me she looked delighted. Standing there in her sleeping short shorts and half-sleeved pink tshirt, her legs were visible in their full glory. Somehow, just standing there, her thigh was divided clearly into two sections, each larger than my entire thigh. And her calves were cut like shapely diamonds. She looked absolutely regal, and my body started having involuntary reactions. In that moment I wanted this interaction to be over as soon as possible. Stacy, on the other hand, had different ideas.
“Hey, stranger!” she said, cheerfully.
“Hey.” I replied, nonchalantly, trying to not match her gaze.
“Seriously Bri, where’ve you been all this while? I’ve barely seen you these past few days,” she continued.
“I’ve been busy,” I lied, and then tried to push past her into the washroom. Instead, it was just like trying to walk into a brick wall, and before I knew it, I bumped into her and bounced right back. Stacy either didn’t notice or ignored my humiliating attempt. Then she said, “I’ve been meaning to thank you. Thanks for covering for me in front of mom. That was cool.”
I gulped. I desperately wanted to get out of this conversation.
“I didn’t cover for you.” I said, then quickly added “and I really need to go, I’m late for school.”
Stepping aside, Stacy asked eagerly, “But when are we going to practice next?! Last time we sparred was soooooo cool.”
My heart skipped a beat. Looking her straight in the eye, with as much force as could muster I said “No More Boxing.”
Before she could respond, I quickly walked into the washroom and shut the door behind me. Relief washed over me as I realised the I’d been holding my breath the entire time I’d been standing with her. After a few seconds I opened the door a little to see Stacy walking away, looking dejected. I felt a touch of guilt, but disappointing her was a way better option than getting seriously hurt myself. I shook my head, shut the door, and went about freshening up for school.
That evening, I was sitting in my room on my computer, focused on my game when someone knocked on my door.
“Come in!”, I yelled.
To my surprise it was Stacy who unlocked the door and walked in. That almost never happened.
“Mom wants you downstairs for dinner Brian”, she said, sounding a little more reluctant than usual. I was at the edge of my seat, but didn’t look away from the computer. Instead, I asked,
“Why didn’t she call me she like usually does?”
Stacy appeared to be thinking. Then she said,
“Well…I told her I’d get you. Actually, dinner’s not for another 15 minutes. I just wanted to talk about our sparring practice….”
I was again backed into a corner. Before she could finish her sentence, I interrupted, saying “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a game?”
Suddenly Stacy seemed interested. “Ooh what’re you playing?”
Stacy was not into video games at all. I could tell that she was only pretending to be interested so that she could get on my good side and convince me to box again with her. I laughed a little internally at her childlike manipulation strategy. But oh well, as long as I wasn’t talking about physical stuff.
“It’s WWE 2K23” I replied, as I kept playing.
“And who’s that masked guy?” Sophie asked, pointing at my character. “That’s Rey Mysterio. He’s one of the coolest wrestlers out there.” Stacy sat down on my bed and started watching with intent. After a little while, I performed a move where Rey climbs onto the corner of the ring, backflips through the air and lands straight on his opponent’s shoulders. Sophie exclaimed “That looks easy.”
I laughed and said “A move like that takes years of practice to master. Rey is one of the GOATs, and even he can’t do it perfectly many times.”
Stacy wasn’t convinced. “Really? Doesn’t seem that hard, I bet I could do it.”
I laughed louder. “No way!”, I said.
“I can too!”, Stacy yelled, sounding a little annoyed.
I was loving irritating her like this, especially after having lived in fear for so long. It felt good to have some power over her. In an exaggerated manner, I said “Nope”.
Then, Stacy grew quiet, and I heard the sound of my bed creaking. I took my eyes off the computer screen for the first time to turn around and see Stacy standing on my bed.
Immediately understanding her intentions, I stuttered, “Stac….y whaaaat are…” That was all I could get out before she launched herself from my bed, executed a perfect backflip and ‘THWAP!’ landed cleanly on my shoulders, with her thighs wrapping around my neck. My chair tipped over under out combined weights and fell on the floor, taking the both of us with it, with her legs still firmly holding my head. Then, Stacy started squeezing.
Imagine two steel rails the size of train tracks, trying to compress a single watermelon between them. That’s how it felt. Immediately I felt a searing pain in my head, as if it was about to implode. Instinctively my hands flew to her thighs to try and dislodge myself. Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t even dent them, let alone remove them. Thankfully, the pain in my head far outweighed any other thoughts that I was having at the moment.
From somewhere above, almost from a distance, Stacy said excitedly, “See I told you I could do it!”
“Let me go” I croaked, hating myself for having to plead to the brat.
“Ummm no. In the game the Rey guy doesn’t let the other guy go until he says Uncle. The same rule applies here.”
This was too humiliating for me. I wasn’t going to say uncle, I would never live that down. With renewed efforts I started bucking my body up and down while pulling at her legs to try and loosen her hold, to no avail. All this accomplished was making Stacy redouble her efforts. Arching her back, Stacy squeezed much, much, harder than I thought was possible. My head was now being subjected to an industrial press. ‘CREAK’ I heard by bones making a word bending noise. I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to give in. But when I opened my mouth, no words came out. “SAY UNCLE” she yelled again squeezing continuously, and further enhancing my panic. Frantically, I started tapping her thigh, the universal sign of quitting. But my innocent sister had no idea of any such rules. ‘CREAAKKKK!’ the noise came again. I genuinely feared that she was going to crack my skull. If I didn’t die from asphyxiation first. I kept tapping her thighs until I couldn’t anymore. My eyes started closing, when suddenly I heard, from somewhere afar, the sound of my freedom, “Dinner!”
Sophie immediately unlatched her bear trap, got up and quickly ran down. I slowly got up, rubbing my neck, and waited for the blood to flow back into my head. After a couple minutes of waiting and two more yells from my mom, I too went downstairs, even though I didn’t feel hungry.
Throughout dinner, Stacy kept staring at me, her eyes narrow, with a determined look on her face that made me feel queasy inside. More often than not, I had to match her gaze, as she was sitting directly opposite me and it hurt trying to move my neck. I have to admit, in that moment, seeing her stare at me after everything that she had just done, I felt very intimidated, but I tried to not let it show on my face.
After dinner, I washed the dishes and watched tv for a while, making sure that Stacy would be asleep before I went up. When I entered my room, however, Stacy was standing there, right in the centre. She had changed her clothes to short shorts and a pink cropped tshirt; her sleeping attire. Her muscles also looked pumped, apparently having just been worked hard. She had at some point mentioned that she’d be performing her home workouts at night now, something about spreading out her exercise regimen. Her thighs had ballooned to a mammoth size and twitched at the slightest movement. I didn’t have to look at them to be reminded of their power, one movement of my neck was enough. Those abs were also looking especially beautiful, six perfect slabs that slowly flexed and unflexed with each breath. But the scariest of all was her face. It still had the same determined look it had had at dinner, the same look that it had had when she had punched my lights out. That look unnerved me a lot. I quickly walked to the security of my bed and sat down, deliberately not matching her gaze.
“What the hell are you doing in my room? Can’t figure out the way to yours?” I asked, feigning bravado.
“You didn’t say uncle” she said, in a grave voice that sent chills down my spine. Still I had to be nonchalant and avoid confrontation at all costs.
“Yes I didn’t. Because I didn’t need to. Now go away. I need to sleep.”
With that I pulled my blanket over my head and lied down.
“Say uncle” she said again.
Mustering up more courage, I said from under the blanket
“No! Now go away or I’ll thrash you.”
Suddenly I felt two tiny but strong grab my left leg, and, in one Swift motion, drag it and my entire body off my bed and onto the ground. I looked up to see her bending down to wrap her legs around me again. Not a chance I was gonna let her subject me to that again.
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, I rolled away and immediately stood up.
“What was that?!” I asked, incredulous and angry.
She replied, “You didn’t say uncle, so now I have to make you.”
I processed this information. On the one hand I didn’t want to confront her ever if possible. On the other hand she didn’t seem to be in the mood to negotiate. Besides, I may have a chance to save some dignity. Any test of strength or boxing would’ve been futile, but this was submission wrestling. Maybe I could use my superior height to make her give up and reestablish my authority.
While I was thinking all this, my eyes went to her legs. I just had to make sure that I wouldn’t get trapped by those thighs, otherwise it’s game over for me.
Stacy looked like she was reading my mind, and kept bouncing up and down like she had been with boxing. Clearly she didn’t know anything about wrestling either, fake or real, and that would add to my advantage.
Trying to surprise her, I tackled her, aiming my head at her waist and expecting her to go down. Instead, as my head hit her abs, it was like a hammer hitting a gong. My head started throbbing while her massive legs absorbed the entire momentum of my attack. What’s worse, she grabbed my head from the back and pushed it further into her abs, my face mushing against the deep grooves and ridges. She didn’t know what she was doing, as this was not supposed to be an effective move. It only worked because her abs were capable of battering my tender face all on their own.
I pulled at her arm that was holding my head with both my hands and managed to pull it back just enough to shake my head free, though the ringing inside it was still going on. Further, having been up close with her abs, a ringing of sorts had started in other parts of my body too.
Now copying my move, she ran towards me using her head, supported by her taut neck, as a cannonball. ‘BLAMPH!’ ‘CRASH’ Her tackle folded me into two, pushing all the air out of my body before sending me flying into the wall, where I cracked and slid to the ground. Stacy stood there, looking confused.
“You’re light” she remarked matter-of-factly.
Meanwhile I was getting up. She noticed this and said “Oh no you don’t!”
She came running again and, with one hand, pushed me onto my back and using that same hand as leverage, performed and amazingly athletic vault, landing in a sitting position on my chest. She immediately put her knees on my shoulders, in a school girl pin. She giggled.
“Now say uncle.”
I tried to escape but couldn’t and she knew it. Oh how I hated that smug look on her face. I just wanted to wipe it out. I was determined not to give her the satisfaction. Besides, this was a pin, not a submission, and she was too naive to know the difference.
However, I did realise that had this been a real match, she would’ve already beaten me. Accepting defeat at wrestling from my 12 year old sister, with little to no effort on her part and me trying my hardest, was sobering to say the least. To distract myself from it, I looked at the sight in front of me. Big mistake.
I had a front row view of the nicest set of abs I’d ever laid my eyes on. They were so perfectly arranged, rhythmically moving in and out, flexing and relaxing, with a slight but noticeable change in their shape or size with every movement she made. It was mesmerizing to look at. Had my arms not been trapped I would’ve reached out and touched them. Trying to snap out of it I looked towards her right arm, resting straight beside me. Smooth and supple skin lined with vascularity that I could only dream of. How could her one arm carry so much muscles? It wasn’t fair. Suddenly the arm twitched and her bicep contracted. Immediately, I thought of her punches and my throat went dry and I flinched, closed my eyes and expected the worst. But nothing happened. Instead, Stacy just giggled. I opened my eyes to see her poking at my chest. “You’re so skinny.”
“I’m not you’re a gigantic muscle monster!”, I thought but didn’t say anything.
“This is boring” Stacy suddenly commented on my predicament before putting her hands on my shoulders and removing her legs. Then, lying down on top of me, she outstretched her legs, while I tried bucking her away but her arms held me in place.
She intertwined her legs with mine, clearly highlighting the difference in girth. Then, without warning she stretched them out in a split, pulling me in a grapevine. Now, for her a split wasn’t a problem, as she had been doing it her whole life.
For me, it meant the indescribable pain of both my hip ligaments being torn apart at the same time. “AAHHHHHHHH” I shrieked before Stacy quickly put her hand on my mouth, and pulled our legs back.
“Sheesh, flexible much?” She said.
“Alright let’s try this again. Remember you just have to say uncle!” She continues, exuberantly.
I didn’t want to relive that pain, but I didn’t want to admit defeat even more so I stayed mum. This time she opened her legs slowly, ratcheting up my pain. In the beginning, past the halfway mark I kept my mouth closed, not wanting to seem week, even though I’m sure my expression gave away my pain. But very soon, I was screaming my lungs out again, causing Stacy to muffle my mouth again and relaxing her hold.
“Quit shouting you’re gonna wake up mom and dad!” She complained.
“Then quit doing that!” I whined, hating myself more by the second.
“Oh alright” she said, sounding disappointed. With that, she got off of me, rolling to her side, leaving me to recuperate. But this relief wouldn’t last long.
Stacy grabbed my back with both of her hands, and lifted it just enough for her to slide down my back was directly lying over her abs. “Whaaa” I asked in my dazed state.
“You’re not very flexible, that gives me an idea. Last chance. Say uncle.”
“Never”, I said, still not quite sure what she had in mind but preparing myself for the worst. I hated myself for going along with this. This “fight” had again been completely one-sided, I’d never stood a chance. But I was determined not to give her what she wanted.
“As you say. This is called The Bridge. I’m quite good at them.”
With that she started lifting her entire waist into the air, carrying mine with her, while only using her legs and head for support while her arms were free. I could feel myself slipping before one of her arms grabbed my legs at the knees while the other grabbed my mouth thus holding my in place. As I kept going up, I could feel her abs grinding into my back. As she reached maximum height, she started pulling down with both of her hands, essentially bending my like a pretzal. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her bicep flexed to its limits trying it’s hardest to break me into two pieces. And it was working. I tried to scream but her hand covered my mouth, muffling it. My spine was being stretched to its limits with her abs nailing it in place. I was on the verge of tears as the pain kept increasing. I was sure that if this kept going my spine would just snap into two.
“I can keep doing this for hours, so you’d better say uncle fast,” Stacy said.
How was I supposed to speak if her hand was covering my mouth? I tried to say it but I couldn’t. I was basically in a U shape by this point, my spine having gone way further than it had ever gone before. Any moment now I’d lose the ability to walk. In panic, I tried to break free by jumping like a fish out of water. But those beautiful biceps held me firmly in place, her abs further digging into my spine with each jump. Finally, I started tapping frantically on her fingers on my mouth. Mercifully, this got her attention.
“Oh! Oopsie, my bad!” she said, giggling sheepishly.
With that, she removed her hand from my mouth and onto my neck.
No sooner had she done that did I shout “UNCLE! UNCLE!”
Stacy immediately fell down from her bridge, taking her with me. Then, she got up, patted herself clear of the dust, and said
“This was so much fun! You’re a great partner for most games. Let’s do it again soon! For now, goodnight!”
All this while I had been catching my breath with my eyes closed. I heard the door close ans slowly opened my eyes to see Stacy’s fist, carried by her huge bicep, right above my head.
“You sure you don’t need some help sleeping?”
She asked, slowly bringing it closer to my face.
My fear-stricken face said it all, causing her to giggle. “Silly, I’m just kidding. Chill out!”
How was all of this a joke to her? With that, she got up, and left, for real this time.
I stayed on the ground for a long time.