+Notable Author: [Industrial Flesh] Stories~collected

[IBP]

cont. -

Keith awoke with a terrible pain in his leg. As he came out of his tent he found that he had developed a limp overnight. "Fuck!" he hollered. Everyone around the morning campfire looked up dazed. Everyone else was already up and that kind of annoyed Keith.
"Aww, the Wittle Sleepyhead," cued Britney obnoxiously.
"Where ya been, Pal? Britney and Carmen already went for a swim this morning," cracked Martin merrily. The Wahlbergs all smiled pleasantly at Keith who sniffed back at them, looking for some bacon. Carmen smiled at the grumpy college guy who was still on college time, which meant 4am bedtimes and 2pm mornings. He felt like shit and was in no mood to try to impress her. He just looked at her, kind of aloof. She was sitting on the ground beside Britney who was perched on a rock. She was combing her wet hair and sunning herself.
Keith did a double take as he looked at his little sister who up to this point had never worn such revealing clothes. She wore tight spandex biker shorts and a little tank-top and she looked all built in the sporty outfit. Her legs were crossed and her back was arched. Her legs looked muscular. Her back was broad and buff. Her shoulders and arms were brawny. Britney had a body from hell. She was all thick everywhere. She had a bruising upperbody and her lower body was 100% diesel. Keith was staring at 143 pounds of teenage musclegirl on a 5'3" frame and he suddenly felt very afraid of the 15 year old dynamo who had obviously been pumping iron every day while he was away at college getting soft.
Britney watched her brother's face as he took her in. She watched his mouth drop and his eyes widen. Was that fear she saw in his eyes? She believed it was. She grinned at him mischeviously and said, "Yeah, you missed it. We were wrestling too."
"Oh my God, Keith, she was kicking my ass! Your sister is so strong," Carmen exclaimed. "Look at her muscles, Keith! I think her muscles are bigger than yours!"
"They are not!" Keith whined, very angered at the way Carmen was marveling at his little sister's physique.
"I think they are, aren't they?" Carmen asked turning to Britney.
"I don't know," Britney said, shrugging and making a muscle with her right bicep. She pumped her bicep into a swollen muscular ball.
"Oh my God, Keith! Look at that!" Carmen squealed. Britney looked at the plump rock on her arm and then up at Keith whose horrified expression delighted her. She flexed and relaxed her muscle, making it bounce for her onlookers.
"Can you do that, Keith?" Carmen asked, seeing that Keith was very uncomfortable.
"Why would I want to? It's stupid..." Keith didn't know what else to say.
"Keith make a muscle..."
"Nah..."
"Come on...why not?"
"I don't feel like it."
"Yeah, your just afraid that Britney's muscle is bigger."
"I am not...Shut-up!"
"He's afraid..."
"He better be afraid of these guns," Britney bragged doing a double-bicep pose, causing Carmen to ooh and ah some more.
"Oh my God..." she said, feeling the younger girl's bursting biceps. "And look at her legs, Keith. Your legs are like twigs compared to Britney's!" Keith's face winced as she said this. "Look at that. Feel that," enthused Carmen, punching Britney's bulging thighs. "Those are muscles!"
"Yeah, I've got quads," Britney explained almost shyly. Keith's face was getting red. He stormed away to eat in his tent.
When he came out later he was limping very badly and the group still had many miles to go.
"What are we gonna do about Keith's limp?" Martin asked. "He can't walk the distance we have to go on it. It would be too painful." Donna looked at her husband perplexed. The Wahlbergs seemed stumped.

Then Britney smiled up at her parents and said, "Dad, Mom...I could carry Keith." The parents looked at their daughter, amused.
"Oh, Britney, that's very nice of you to offer, but I don't think it's very realistic."
"No, I can. Really. He's light. Remember how easily I was lifting him yesterday?"
"That's true. You did seem to have a firm handle on it."
"I can do it, Dad. Let me show you."
In a minute they had Keith's answer. "...No fucking way!" he yelled. "I'm not gonna let her..."
"Now Son, it's a perfectly viable solution. If your sister is willing to give it a shot I think we should let her. She seemed to carry you yesterday with no problem. In fact, she was pretty nifty with you, I thought."
"No, she wasn't. She was hurting herself and she was getting tired. I could tell..."
"I was not!"
"Yeah, it didn't look that way to me, Son. Let's give it a shot, okay? We've got nothing to lose. It's either that or I go back and get the car and you'll all have to wait here."
"Nooo," sang Britney. "Let me carry my brother. I'll carry him all the way back. It'll be easy because he's light."
"Well, then that settles it," Martin concluded.
In an hour, the group packed up and got under way. Keith tried to limp away from the group, still rebelling against the terribly embarrassing suggestion that his little sister carry him the rest of the way back. But Britney caught him and yanked him toward her. Then she scooped her skinny brother off his feet and heaved him on to her rock-hard back. Keith found himself astride a muscle-bound pony-girl who supported his weight with frightening ease. "I got the little gimpy boy," she sang. Everyone smiled and was very impressed by the strength of the buffed-up 15 year old who was very obviously the physical superior of her feeble brother. Her strong arms held his thin legs very supportively. Keith couldn't help feeling very secure. After all, Britney was a little hulk-girl. "How's your little leg?" she asked sweetly during the hike.
"It's okay," he grumbled.
"You're such a fragile boy," she joked. "You know, weight-training would help you with that..." As she walked, and Keith rode on her back, he watched her shapely legs carry him, hour after hour. He waited for her to fatigue, to pull a muscle, something ...Britney piggybacked her big brother 3 miles, straight, all the way back to the parking lot. When they got to the car, she set him down and just smiled at him.
Then Britney put her hands on her hips and eyed her brother mischeviously. Cute and muscular, the 15 year old felt like she could do anything. It was an incredible feeling being a short, strong girl who could intimidate her big brother. She loved being stronger than the older boy who trembled before her now. "You know, when your leg gets better, I want to wrestle you. Wrestling Carmen was fun, but she's just a weak girl. We'll see if I can hold my own against my big brother. That will be something..." Keith looked at his little sister's powerful legs, her plump butt, her burly arms. He looked at her squat, muscular build and shuddered. He was terrified of what she could do to him.

[IBP]

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[caino]

FANTASTIC!!!!!!!   I love "camping"..... there is a third part of it??

That's all for "camping", or at least all I have found.

[IBP]

Sorry if the formatting is a bit off, I was probably scrounging this one from some hacked up webpage off You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login.

Alisa Lifts Weights With Her Legs
by Industrial Flesh


I'd been friends with Alisa for a long time. We'd practically grown up together. We always had a lot of jokes together and she was a really cool girl. Still, we'd always just been friends. First of all, she was 2 years younger and second of all, it was just one of those things where she'd been a friend of the family and I just didn't think of her in any other way.
About a year ago, Alisa began to get really cute. By 10th grade, she was one of the best looking girls in high school. She had long, honey-blond hair and gorgeous green eyes. She had the most adorable little mouth. Her lips were curled in a perpetual pout of perfection. She'd always been a pretty skinny girl too, but she'd recently gotten more voluptuous and it looked good on her.
We were sitting in the den watching TV. She was wearing a little white top and a short skirt. It was tight on her and she looked pretty sexy. I thought her legs looked kind of strong. They were very shapely and tight.
"Alisa, you look kind of strong," I said, gesturing to her lower body.
"Yeah, well, I've been lifting weights with my legs..."
"Oh...," I blurted out, surprised.
"...to firm up..." she explained, almost apologetically.
"No, no...it looks good."
She smiled shyly. "You really think so?"
"Yeah...Sure..."
"I've gotten strong too."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I bet I could beat you up," she exclaimed playfully, needling me with one finger in my ribs.
I forced a little laugh, but I didn't quite think it was funny. I knew she was only joking, but I couldn't help responding half-seriously.
"I don't know, there, Alisa. I am on the wrestling team."
"No, I know, Paul. I was just kidding."
Her eyes squinted as she smiled. I looked at her and that stared back at the TV. I folded my arms, uncomfortably at the sudden silence. A few more minutes of silence went by as we both pretended to watch the stupid MTV videos that were on.
"You're not that strong," I finally said. "I am a wrestler."
"No, I know..."
"So...what?...You actually think you're so strong?"
"No...Paul..."
"Alright fine. Let's see. What do you wanna do? You been lifting with your legs, so you wanna leg wrestle?"
"Nah..."
"No. Come one. Let's go. I wanna see."
Alisa paused for a moment. "Well...okay..." She slipped off her shoes. I admired her sturdy ankles. Alisa had sexy ankles. We layed down on our backs, side-by-side. My head was where her feet were and vice versa. Then we locked legs just above the knee. I saw that her thighs and calves were larger.
"You say go..." I offered.
"Okay...Ready?...Go."
I began to push as hard as I could. But Alisa pushed back much harder. I could feel the strain in my leg right away as I tried to push back against her leg. Her leg felt so heavy. Her leg bent mine right over very forcefully. I grunted as she crushed my leg to the floor. "Whoa," I blurted out as the force of her leg nearly rolled my whole body backwards. "That's...that's strong..." I was pretty embarrassed by the way she had beaten me. Alisa just grinned at me. It was still a shy grin.
"Can I try a hold on you?" she asked, trying to hide her enthusiasm.
"Uhh...I don't know, Alisa. I am a wrestler and I don't wanna end up hurting you by accident or something."
"Well...you can be really careful, can't you? I wanna see if you can get out of my hold."
"Well, what hold?" I asked curiously.
"My brother said I have a good scissors."
"Oh. Well, alright..."
Alisa squatted up from the floor and bounced over to the couch. She sat down and spread her nicely-muscled legs wide apart. I walked over to her and sat down at her feet.

"Face me," she commanded. I turned around and looked up at her. She smiled sweetly. Then she straightened her legs and placed them on both my shoulders. Her legs bent slightly at the knees as she crossed one leg over the other. She locked her ankles behind me and I felt my head and neck suddenly trapped, very tightly. "Now see if you can get out," she said with a half-serious expression on her cute face. I grabbed her thighs and tried to pull them apart. I couldn't. I couldn't move her legs at all. They were locked tightly and she was slowly crushing my head.

I pulled and pulled, but it was no use. Alisa's weight-trained leg muscles were too strong. Still, I didn't want her to know that. "Pretty tight, huh?" she said. I didn't say anything. I was still trying to figure a way out so I wouldn't have to. "Do you give?" she asked. I wasn't about to give this younger girl the satisfaction. No way was I going to give.

"No..." I said quietly.
"Are you sure? You look pretty trapped there."
"I'm gonna get out," I boasted, though I had no idea how.

Alisa's legs were thick and strong and from this position I had absolutely no leverage. This situation was quickly becoming very embarrassing. Why had I agreed to it?

"I can make it tighter, you know," she informed me threateningly. Then she slid her thighs forward so my head was up higher in them. I watched her harden her leg muscles so they expanded into my neck. I swallowed my saliva very loudly. It was embarrassing. It was getting tougher to breathe too.

I grabbed her ankles behind me and tried to pull them apart. They didn't budge. Still, I kept tugging. They had to get tired eventually. "What if I do this?" she asked and then she grabbed each one of my wrists and pulled my arms up away from her legs. I tried to pull out of her grasp, but she had a really strong grip. I couldn't control my arms. She was restraining them. Now I was completely at her mercy. "I got ya now, don't I."

I tried to turn my head, twist out of her strong scissors. But I couldn't really and it hurt to try. Actually, my head was hurting quite a bit and I could feel my face turning red. "Do you give?" she asked, again.

Alisa, still holding me in her legs, rolled off the couch so she was resting comfortably on her side on the floor. She looked down at my pained face and smiled. She petted my hair in a gentle, taunting fashion. "Paul, are you okay?" I finally wrenched my arms free of her hands and grabbed at her legs again. She responded by clenching tighter with her legs. It was too tight, now and I could feel my face turning purple. I looked up at her desperately, too ashamed to say anything. "What's the matter, Mr. Wrestler?" she asked in mock-concern. Then she giggled. She tightened her legs just a little and I screamed. She had humiliated me. I blacked out.

[s0ltan]

"Okay. Whoever gets here first, gets the car for the evening tonight. I laughed. It was an obvious gag. Not only was I much closer to the stoop, but of course, I was the one who could drive being that my sister was only in 9th grade.
I laughed for a moment and then I rushed toward my father. My sister was walking on her hands at that moment, but she sprang to her feet in a hurry and throttled toward the stoop as well. I was surprised by how fast she was. She was in high gear in just three steps and she was very explosive as her thighs pumped up and down forcefully. I was a little surprised to find us both arrive at the door at virtually the same time. I told myself I had gotten there first, but I was not honestly sure. My father seemed surprised as well. "Uhh...I'm not sure...I don't...I think that was too close to call..."
"We tied," my sister said, matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I guess you did," agreed my father, still a little bewildered.
"I think she had a head-start," I suggested, searching for an explanation.
"I did not. You were the one who was closer."
"That is true, Alex," intoned my dad.
"Well, we should just race again," I asserted. "Starting from the same spot so everything is even." My sister nodded in agreement.
"Okay," my dad said. "Why don't you two start at the end of the street and make the finish line the beginning of the driveway?"
"That's cool," I said. My sister studied the distance for a moment and consented to the race as well. As we walked to the end of the block, I messed with her just for fun. "Come on, Meagan, you can't really race me. You ain't got any speed."
"I do too," she piped.
"You do not. You're slow as a towtruck."
"I'm not slow."
"You're slow. You're freaking slow, Meagan. Face it. I've got the speed, Baby. You a slow fool," I chided. I laughed at my own obnoxiousness. Well, it was true, I was the speed demon, not her. Hell, she even looked slow, being a short, stocky girl. When we reached the dead end of our street, we placed our feet side by side. My father stood at the beginning of our driveway. He shouted, "Ready! Get set! Go!"
The distance must have been about 40 yards and we were off in a split second. I flew down the street feeling light as a bird. Racing my younger sister wasn't exactly my idea of a great physical challenge so I wanted to beat her by a lot. As we raced down the street together, I tried to separate from her, but I could see her matching me stride for stride and she was not slowing. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her somewhat big thighs pumping forcefully. The muscles in her thighs were explosive giving her more and more power in her strides. Her explosive legs carried her past me after about 20 yards. I gasped in shock, seeing her hard, round butt in her little shorts, firing out in front of me, leaving me behind, leaving me jogging in place almost. By the time we reached the driveway, she had gained a significant lead and beaten me fairly easily it seemed.
I sputtered across the finish line, mortified by my performance against my sister. I stopped and paced for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath. I stared at Meagan, too stunned to speak. "I beat you," she said proudly. "You always think you're so fast, but I'm faster." She stood beside my father, her thighs bulging with muscularity. I stared at her fat legs. It was the first time I noticed how muscular they were. They looked stronger than my legs. They were thicker and more ripped. This girly-girl teeny-bopper's legs were muscular as hell.
My father didn't know what to say about the outcome. Clearly, he was expecting me to win. "Uhh...I guess Meagan won," he stammered.
"So I get the car tonight?" she piped.
"Well, Meagan..." my father started.
"I won. I get the car."
I couldn't let this happen before I knew what I was saying, my mouth was moving, "You didn't freaking win, Meagan. I just ran a bad race. Let's go again. I'll show you what real speed is." Meagan shrugged at this. "Okay." So we walked back to the end of the street and tried it again. My father said, "Ready! Set! Go!" And round two began.
Again, after 15 paces or so, I found myself losing ground to my sister's awesome speed. Her whopping, muscular legs and her powerful rear were just too strong for me to stay with her. My legs turned to jelly as I tried in vain to keep up. My legs strained and strained, but my sister was too powerful. Meagan's lower body was just superior. I'd never thought of Meagan as being such a strong, invincible runner. I knew she ran track, but I didn't know she was so powerful.
Losing again so decisively to my sister proved I really was no match for her. What was demoralizing was knowing that she was beating me because her legs were stronger. Speed had always been my edge in athletics, but Meagan was more powerful than me. I couldn't believe she was the one with the edge. Running track had apparently built up her legs in a way that made them very muscular. Her legs were bigger, harder and better shaped than mine. Meagan was much stronger and faster. I couldn't believe a younger teenage girl could defeat me physically like this. I didn't know how to feel about it, but I tried to fight back the shame I felt.
My father smiled awkwardly. It was obvious he was embarrassed for me. As Meagan bounded powerfully over to him, I think even he saw that his 15 year old daughter had bigger legs than his 18 year old son. How could he not see those muscles rippling from her thighs as she galloped to him. "Well, I'm going to go inside," he said, leaving. Meagan bounced up and down in front of me, her quads pulsing as she jumped. "You have to drive me where ever I want tonight," she cheered.
"No," I boomed.
"Yes. I won. I get the car."
"I don't think so, Meagan."
"You have to drive me."
"Dream on," I said and walked away feeling angry and embarrassed.
"That's not fair," she called after me.
        The following week, my friends and I were in the back yard, playing tackle football. It was fun except for the fact that some of the guys on the other team, like Bob, were just a little too big for me to handle. I couldn't really tackle Bob and when Bob hit me, I just went flying. Also, I had gotten pretty out of shape over the past year and I was just too tired to play at my peak level. In baseball, I could get away with not being in
perfect condition. Football was a different story.
It was a 5 on 5 game, but then Tim on my team had to go home. We were all really pissed. We argued for several minutes over how we could make new teams and who would be automatic QB now that we had an uneven number of people. Then Mark suggested that my sister play on our team. I glanced over at her. She had been on the deck for almost an hour, doing calisthenics. Now she was doing chin-ups on the swing-set. Why the hell did she have to exercise so hard? It made me uneasy. I had been avoiding her ever since she beat me in the race last week. I felt really uncomfortable around her and did not want her playing in our football game. I shook my head. "No way. No girls."
"Come on, Alex. We need someone."
"Automatic QB," I said firmly.
"Auto Q sucks and you know it, Alex. Let's just let Meagan play and then we can keep the same teams. Tim wasn't that good anyway. How bad can she be?"
"She'll suck. She doesn't even know how to play football."
"I do too. I know how to play football," Meagan said, leaping down off the swing set and storming over to us. She was in little shorts that displayed her big thighs and the rippling muscles she had there. She was sockless in her new running shoes. She wore a sleeveless shirt with "00" on it and her shoulders and arms looked pumped and defined. "@#%$, she looks jacked," remarked my friend, Kevin.
I rolled my eyes, but I was out-voted. Meagan was on our team. Bob's team was starting to run away with the game and our passing game was stalled. We agreed a running play would surprise the defense and get us back on track. We were all pretty tired except for Meagan. The idea was that if we all blocked really well, Meagan could gain some yardage for us, maybe even the first down. "What do you want me to do?" she asked seriously. We told her to go outside right. Then we broke from the huddle.
Mark pitched the ball back to my sister and we all pulled right. Meagan swept up the right sideline, blowing past me on the corner. Her shockingly powerful legs were a sight as she chugged faster and faster The other team reacted quickly to the trick play, but they were totally ambushed by Meagan's speed. The muscular girl's wicked acceleration left everyone grasping at air. Meagan raced down the sideline, going 60 yards for a touchdown. Everyone on the field was baffled. The score was now 7-5 and we were down by 2.
Then we explained to Meagan about defense and kicked off to the other team. I was flying down the inside track to nail Johny, the ball carrier, when Meagan rocketed out in front of me. She blasted into Johny so hard, we all thought she'd killed him. His neck snapped back and his limp body went flying, limbs sprawled, torso up-ended. He couldn't hold on to the ball, of course, but lucky for them, they still recovered. Everyone admired Meagan's brutal lower-body which was obviously not just for show. This well-built 15 year old was very strong. She could hit like a wrecking ball.
On the next play, Bob took the ball and rammed it up the gut. He had been doing this all day and I'd had enough of getting run over by him. Rather than trying in vain to stop him, I got out of the way. To my surprise, Meagan filled the gap and exploded up into him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his torso. Her legs cranked up down with terrible force. Her big calves tensed as she dug in. Her quads bulged as she strained. As I watched this, my jaw dropped. Meagan grunted ferociously as she drove Bob backwards. He gasped as he felt himself dominated by the girl's tremendous leg drive. Her legs kept right on pumping until she was plowing him into negative yardage. By the time Meagan crushed him to the ground, Bob had lost more than 10 yards. And the look on his face was one of disbelief.
A few plays later, she tackled him again. This time, she was so strong with him, it seemed to sap him of whatever energy he had in the game. Bob was not the same player after that. He had always been the big bully on the block. Not so any more. Meagan's thighs were bigger than his and she showed him what that meant. I think even he was intimidated by her bulging quadriceps. I watched with grudging admiration as the steel-muscled track girl broke poor Bob. My 15 year old sister treated him like a bitch and that's what he became. Soon he was skulking around the field, nervously and not getting in on any plays at all.
A short pass on the next play yielded few yards as Meagan pounced on Greg and wrapped him up in a dominant bear hug. She slung him to the ground so hard she knocked the wind out of him. He wept as he tried to get his breath back. The play after that we told Meagan to blitz. She was so quick and powerful, no one could block her and she was on the QB in seconds. She wrapped him up in a crushing tackle that left him teary-eyed and holding his ribs. What a strange predicament it was: my sister was playing too hard. She was too physical and too rough for us. But who of the nine boys on the field was going to admit that? No one would dare admit that a 15 year old girl was too strong for him. No one wanted to seem like a wimp.
But with Meagan patrolling from sideline to sideline, pulverizing whoever had the ball, our defense was suddenly awesome. Then we got the ball back and after a few passing plays failed, we turned to the blossoming superstar on our team. "What do you want me to do?" Meagan asked. We handed it off to her and watched her smash through the defense for 25 yards. We gave it to her again and she rumbled for another 30. With 4 guys hanging on, the muscular track girl powered her way another 15 before going down. Meagan's big thighs pumped up and down so powerfully, she dragged people and knocked people down.
The other team soon looked in bad shape, what with the beating they were taking from my sister's punishing runs. Anyone who tried to tackle Meagan paid a price each time she ran the ball. Her strong, muscular running-style was bludgeoning them and pounding on them in a way you don't expect to come from a younger girl. I could see my friends getting all sorts of little injuries. I could see a few guys limping back to the huddle. Johny was holding his hand in pain. Phil massaged his neck with a grimace on his face. I could see Richard fighting back tears after Meagan trampled him like an angry bull.
Meanwhile, after each run, Meagan hopped up like it was nothing. It was so obvious, she had the rugged-muscled bod to take a pounding like this and keep coming back for more. She had the muscle and the stamina to be the workhorse we were making her. And it was a truly disquieting feeling knowing that we could depend on my younger sister to be such a workhorse. I could feel my whole team relaxing as we realized Meagan could easily carry us to victory, she was so strong and in shape. Her brute strength and her raw athleticism was unparalleled on the field. Her full, hard muscles made her an unstoppable force on offense and defense. It was a comfort to know we could just hand off to her as much as we needed and she would rip through the other team's helpless defense.
It felt weird and yet I was slowly giving myself over to the fact that Meagan was a physical powerhouse. A tough, muscular, in-shape brute who was stronger than me and stronger than my friends. It was hard to tell if she even knew how physically dominant she was over the rest of us. She seemed so naïve about it, but I guess she had to know. How could she not?
Meagan finished the drive with a 30 yard touchdown scamper. She pummeled the other team's offense and then went back to work for us running the ball. She scored on runs of 45 yards, 93 yards and 74 yards. Then on a 55 yarder. Finally she torched them when she powered 99 yards, the length of the field, running over 3 of my friends before she turned on the afterburners and left everyone else in the dust. Everyone stared in quiet awe. My friends on the other team were exhausted, beat up and very pissed off. After we were winning 12 to 7, they gave up and said they had to go home.
Meagan cheered and started doing backflips across the lawn to celebrate. Then she bounded over to me and tackled me playfully. But she was still too rough. She was so forceful, I twisted my ankle when she hit me. My whole left leg felt crippled.
"Ow! Meagan!" I screamed in agony.
"Alex, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
"I think I hurt my ankle," I whined, gritting my teeth, trying not to cry.
"Can you walk?" she asked, innocently.
"I don't think so."
"I'll take you in the house," Meagan said, with a sympathetic look on her face. "Get on my back," she commanded. I staggered to my feet and hopped over to my sister. I jumped up on her back and she pulled my legs up high so they were securely wrapped around her waist. I leaned over on her back and relaxed. I sighed comfortably. She felt really good, so solid and strong. She held me nice and steady and walked with me so easily. I'd never felt like such a sissy in my life. It was so emasculating knowing my sister was stronger and more muscular than me. But there was nothing I could do about it. Acceptance was my only recourse. My friends all watched me lifted and carried by my sister for a moment. I could see they were very wierded out and they all quickly looked away.
She carried me into the house and then swung me in front of her so she was carrying me in her strong arms. I never felt so light in my life. Meagan was so @#%$ strong. I could feel her round, firm biceps under my knees. She pulled me closer into her chest, gripping me forcefully and crushing me slightly. It was so embarrassing.
As she carried me, I guess she could sense my unease. She grinned and told me I felt light. When we got upstairs, she actually carried me into the bathroom and placed me on the scale. We discovered that I was 5'9" and a shameful 138 pounds. Then Meagan stepped on the scale and showed me how much she weighed. At 5'2" she was 154 pounds. She laughed to discover that she now weighed more than her older brother.
Then she scooped me up and took me into my room. She placed me gently on the bed and plopped down beside me. I sat there, silently ashamed. I looked at her bigger thighs next to mine, popping with muscular bulges, those awesome, in-shape legs that had humiliated me and my friends. I looked at her strong, defined arms and shoulders, much more built than mine. Again, that strange feeling came over me that I had to accept it. My sister was bigger and stronger and faster than me.
Meagan now seemed fully aware that she was beefier than me and harder-muscled. And she could see how I was noticing this; she could see my embarrassment, my humiliation. She kicked her big legs up and down, swinging them around energetically, showing me her muscularity and seeming delighted by my unease. Her brawny shoulders and arms made her seem even more like a tough jock. My male ego was crushed now and forever. The circumstances between me and Meagan was total gender role reversal. She suddenly seemed like a confident macho, muscular girl. I was the cowering, weak sissy and Meagan was the proud, physical dynamo. I never felt the same around my sister again. From then on I respected her.
She looked at me and giggled, happily.

[s0ltan]

...Just then, the D.J. of the party stated a new game everyone was to participate in. It was announced that every usher must arm-wrestle his date to determine who could come up and get wedding cake. Ted and Alison both looked at each other and laughed.
"Now that's a new one," he joked.
"Yes. Very new, " she agreed.
"Where do you think they came up with that?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, looking at him and smiling. But men and women around the party started getting into position. Ted looked around at them, but he seemed hesitant. He gave Alison a skeptical look. "Are they serious?"
Alison looked around at everyone getting to it. People were starting to arm-wrestle. "I guess so," she said, looking at Ted curiously.
"I mean, if we don't want to...if we think it's just silly." Alsions was quite. He watched her carefully. "I mean you don't want to, do you?"
She made a little shrug with her shoulders. "I don't care." Ted was still stalling. It was an odd position to be in. It wasn't that he was afraid to arm-wrestle Alison. He wasn't. He was confident he would win. But Alison had been going to the gym a lot lately. She was on the machines and she used free weights. He used to be a good athlete back in school, but he had not been training for several years now and he was seriously out of shape. His fear was that he would not beat her easily. He was afraid she could give him quite a fight and even that might be embarrassing.
Ted looked at his girlfriend in her pretty bride's maid dress. He could see her thighs were fatter than his and they curved up to her knees where hard tendons protruded underneath. Her calves were big and very solid. He noticed the definition in her calves when she walked. Her calves flexed like steel with each step she took. She had killer legs. He had to admit, her legs looked stronger than his.
Suddenly, Billy, the groom was standing over them. "Come on, you two. No cake until you wrestle. Those are the rules."
"Well, maybe we don't want cake," Ted suggested.
Billy looked at Alison and grinned. "You want cake, don't you?" Alison nodded at him, smiling shyly. "Okay then. Let's go. Right now." He clapped his hands as he walked away. Ted looked back at Alison, unenthusiastically.
"Well, I guess we should just get it over with then, right?"
Alison smiled pleasantly. "Okay."
As they lay down on their stomachs on the carpteted floor and grabbed hands, Ted felt a little silly. But when he looked at Alison's shoulder and bicep, he became really worried. Her shoulder was as big as his and it was more defined. Her bicep muscle was thick and rounder than his. Alison was bigger than he thought, like she'd bee hitting the gym very seriously. Her body looked extremely worked out and Ted felt less and less sure of himself as he looked at her.
She just looked at him casually. She could tell he was concerned and she guessed he was right to be. She too, saw that she was more muscular than him now. She loved working out with weights and she loved having strong muscles. Her legs had been stronger than his for a while. Now even her arms and shoulders and back looked stronger than his. She thought Ted looked small and soft and she wondered if he was really as weak as he looked. Ted smiled, awkwardly, trying to make light of the situation. "Uhh...You look good, Honey. I guess you've been working out a lot, huh?"
"Uh-huh," she said cheerfully.
"Are you ready?" Ted asked, bracing himself.
"Sure. You an go whenever you want," she informed him. Ted wanted to differ the headstart to his girlfriend, but the doubt he felt from her impressive muscles, made him accept her offer. He started pushing suddenly, hoping to surprise his girlfriend.
Ted poured in with all his might, but Alison's arm stayed where it was. He gritted his teeth and grunted and strained, but he could do nothing against Alison's tensed up muscle ball bicep. Her muscle was too strong and he was too weak to challenge it. She held him there for several seconds, smiling as she felt his weak effort. Then she pushed back using more of her strength and she bent the poor boy's arm down in a few seconds. He sighed in pain as he tried to resist. He was surprised she was so strong that she could hurt him like this. But she could. She was strong in a way that he could not handle. And his efforts only brought injury and shame.
Alison pinned her boyfriend's arm to the floor with terrible force. She pressed him into the wood very hard, just to make him know how strong she was. "Ow..." he sighed, looking at her for pity.
"Oh, Ted. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" she asked, letting up on his meek arm.
"Yeah..." he grumbled, squirming his hand out of her tight grip. She smirked at his little arm withdrawing from her.
"I guess I'm a little bit stronger than you, eh, Honey?"
"Well...um...in some ways maybe."
She raised her eyebrows. "In some ways?"
"Um. Yeah. I think so."
"You don't think I'm just stronger, period?"
"Uhh...My guess is that in some ways you may be stronger and in some ways I'm stronger.
Alison was about to get annoyed and burst his bubble, by challenging his denial, but then she changed her mind. "Well, I'm not sure I get what you mean by that. Maybe you'll have to show me some time. Okay?"
Ted eyed her with suspicion. She was acting weird, strangely detached and with a mock-innocence in her voice.
"Yeah. Sure," he said, carefully.
"Tonight, we should just continue having a good time."
"Of course."
"Cool. I'm going to go get my wedding cake now. Should I bring you a piece?"
"Um. That would be great."
"Okay, Hon." She sprang from the table and got on line for cake with the other victors of the arm-wrestling contests. Ted looked around and noted that he was the only usher who had lost to a bride's maid. He tried not to feel like wimp. He tried.

[IBP]

Oh my god... industrial was a fucking genius. Big K for you s0ltan for finding these.

Ditto on both counts. So glad to see some I couldn't find. Any chance of telling us where you found these? Or titles?

[Brfan]

This guy was the best.
There are 2 stories of him: "Mariana in control" and "A detailed wrestling story" that I cannot find anywhere... does someone have those?

[mattu]

Industrialflesh was SUPER! And I also know that story Marianna in control. About a soccer playing brother and sister. They have a match, sis wins and carries bro back home. Would like to read it again!

[Biceptual]

Mariana is in Control
Ron Krajeski stood on the sideline. A small crowd cheered in the stands behind him. Friends and other various people from school approached him constantly. They wanted to talk about his season and his goals and his next game. He was the starting center forward on the boys' varsity soccer team. As a senior, he had been voted All-County for the third straight year. He was one of the best players in his division and he was the best damn player his Clear Brook High had ever had.
But now he was watching the girls' varsity, which was up by 4 goals. His sister, Mariana, only in 9th grade, was already a starter. Ron smirked when he first heard this. He figured the varsity had to be pretty weak to make a freshmen girl their center halfback. But Mariana, having gone to the same soccer camps each summer that Ron did, had become a very valuable player on her team. She was nowhere near the impact player that her older brother was, but she had good skills and she was athletic and her coach loved her play-making ability. Mariana had 1 assist and 1 goal in this game and there was still 20 minutes left.
"Too bad they can't play you in the girls' league too," joked an assistant principal standing nearby. "They'd be up 10 goals by now." Ron smiled at the compliment. He was not embarrassed by such remarks. He knew he was great and felt he deserved this level of praise.
He stared at the field once again. The girls looked crisp and colorful in their red and white uniforms, sleeves rolled up, clad in tight shorts, socks pulled neatly to the knees to hold their shin guards in place.
Mariana was suddenly on the ball, dribbling up the center of the field. She faked out an opponent, niftily rolling the ball around the challenging defender. She passed the ball to the wing, who took it to the corner. Then Mariana made a run toward the goal. The wing crossed it to the center forward, but the ball bounced off her hip and popped out of the box. It flew toward Mariana who stood, planted 20 yards out, waiting. She pivoted on her left foot and swung her right leg in a roundhouse kick. Connecting with the ball, still hanging in the air, Mariana blasted it into the back of the net, high and in the left corner. Her powerful kick sent the ball with such velocity that the goalie had no time to react. Everyone cheered on the sideline. Mariana's teammates grabbed her and hugged her. Time ran out on the game quickly after this play.
Later the girls celebrated on the sideline. The coach made a proud speech. Then the players began to change and head home.
Mariana plopped on the bench and peeled down her socks and shin guards. Her big calves were sweaty and huge. She swung them up on the bench so they spread flat to their maximum muscular width. Ron stared uneasily. The elastic sock marks on her bare skin only made her tough, chunky muscles look more brawny and solid. She stood up and slipped her wide feet into her flip-flops. She squatted down, looking for something under the bench, her shorts growing tight on her round backside. She slid it on to the bench again after she found her hairclip. She put her brown hair up in a ponytail.
Ron sat down on the bench beside her and cracked, "You sucked out there."
She turned and smiled at him. "Aren't you proud of me?" she asked.
"Proud? Heh Heh... I would have gotten a hat trick," he scoffed. "That's three goals in one game, in case you didn't know." He was wearing jeans, but he could see Mariana's thighs were bigger than his. Between her 27-inch thighs and 17-inch calves, she could not have fit her meaty legs into a pair of his pants, that was for sure. Mariana was pleased to see her brother noticing her legs, which were clearly more muscular than his. At 5'5" and 152 pounds, she was shorter and stouter. He was lean at 5'9" and 143.
"Coach says I'm going to make All-County this season."
"That'll make two of us."
"But you didn't make it your freshmen year..." Mariana pointed out.
"Hey, don't even try to compare yourself to me. I've had the greatest soccer career in this school. Face it, Mariana, your big brother's a living legend."
"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I could be a living legend too."
"Yeah, right."
"I'll go against you right now," Mariana challenged.
"Sure, Mariana."
"I will."
"Mariana, I would smack you down so fast, you wouldn't believe it."
"Well, maybe I could smack you down..." Mariana said, not sounding all that confident. "How about...loser has to piggyback the winner home."
Ron pondered this for a moment. "Fine, let's go right now. I'll kick your ass in any contest you want." Ron was already wearing his soccer flats, which would do just fine on the field's dry grass. Mariana was slightly sorry she had boasted to her big brother in this way. She knew he was an amazing soccer player and she couldn't hope to beat him in any kind of one-on-one soccer contest. But it was too late to back out now. Without putting her socks back on, she slipped into her cleats and laced up. A few people still in the park watched the contest with amusement.
They agreed first to a contest of accuracy. Who could hit the left goal post from the 18-yard line the most times out of 10. Ron nailed it 9 times out 10. Mariana hit it 6. "Yeah, look at you...talking smack," Ron gloated, proudly. Mariana put her hands on her hips, defiantly and said, "Well...well I bet maybe I could kick farther than you."
"In your dreams," her brother chewed. They each took a ball and placed them beside the other at the top corner of the penalty box. Ron took a few steps back and to the left so he could hook it just right. He took his steps and slammed the ball solidly. It flew almost to the midline before it hit the ground and then it rolled another 10 yards. Ron folded his arms and glared at Mariana. "Good luck, Spaz." He called her that sometimes. She was kind of clumsy and he loved to tease her about it.
Mariana took 8 steps back from the ball. She did not move to the side like her brother had. She never hooked when she kicked. Instead, she approached the ball head-on, her legs pumping as hard as she could. Her right foot blasted the ball into the air with a booming thud that sounded very satisfying. Mariana had a leg and she launched the ball into orbit. It looked like an airy marshmallow as it floated higher and higher towards the clouds. It was quickly evident that Mariana's kick had more height and more distance than her brother's kick. It was still going up when it sailed over the midline. When the ball hit the ground, it was at the other 18-yard line. It rolled further and stopped just short of the opposing goal.
"Holy @#%$! That girl's got a leg," exclaimed a curious spectator. Mariana smiled proudly at her brother. "See?" she said snottily. "I have a stronger leg than you."
"That doesn't mean crap," Ron shot back angrily. "Let's go one-on-one now. You have to dribble it into the goal." He dribbled a ball out to the midfield circle. Mariana trotted after him. They faced off. "You're dead meat," he growled. Then his loose body bobbed and weaved to the right, rolling the ball, effortlessly along with his right foot. In a sudden burst of speed, he flew down the right sideline. Mariana chased after him. But Ron was too fast. He outran her to the goal and dribbled his way in.
He passed the ball back to his sister and it was her turn to start with the ball. She drove forward and then stopped, bracing her back to him. She plodded backwards into him, leaving the ball under her left leg and shielding him with her back. She spun, niftily and tried to race passed him. Ron was on her like white on rice. She ran her heart out to get away, but she didn't have the speed and Ron laughed as he stayed with the galloping girl. "You're slow as a tow truck," he cracked.
Ron went in for the tackle, sticking his right leg where the ball was. But his slim legs became entangled with Mariana's muscular trunks. Her legs pumped up and down powerfully, totally unhindered by Ron's thin leg in her path. Ron tripped violently over the solid girl and went flying. He landed on his back with a thump. He scrambled to his feet, but by the time he caught up to Mariana, she was dribbling into the goal. "1 to 1," she sang.
It burned Ron up that she had even scored. In a fit of anger, he took the ball from the midline and dashed to his left. Before he could get into full stride, Mariana dove in for a slide tackle. Her strong-legged lunge smashed Ron's legs out from under him and jarred the ball loose behind him. Mariana leaped to her feet and was on the ball before Ron could get up. Ron chased her down, but once again, it was too late. She had scored again. "2 to 1," Mariana sang, obnoxiously.
"You tripped me! There's no @#%$ tripping!" Ron shouted.
"I didn't mean to trip you. I can't help it if you're always falling down."
The spectator on the sideline called, "It was a clean play!" Ron stared over at the older gentleman, fuming. He took the ball and put a combination of moves and fakes that had Mariana struggling to keep up. Ron moved passed her and dribbled into the net.
Now Mariana took the ball and started up the middle of the field. Ron took her on with a full head of steam. He rushed aggressively at her, expecting her to swerve, but to his surprise, Mariana smashed straight into him with a full head of steam, her muscular thighs pounding furiously. Ron's forward motion was stopped dead in his tracks for a split second and then the impact sent him reeling backwards. The heavier girl ran him over like a train and that's exactly how Ron felt. He bounced off the soft ground, clumsily and grunted in pain as Mariana's thick legs trampled him, still maintaining control of the ball. She dribbled determinedly into the goal for another score. "3 to 2."
But Ron tied it up and then stopped her two more times. He went on to win the contest 5-3, but it was a dubious victory. Mariana had proven that she could compete on the field with him. And Ron had proven that he could barely stay on his feet when his younger sister got physical with him. Her muscularity and her punishing style of play had made her one of the toughest opponents he'd ever faced in his life. Mariana had really knocked the hell out of him and he was a little shaken up by this hard fact. He felt battered and broken and he hurt all over.
He dropped down on the ground to rest for a minute. Mariana knelt down beside him and smiled. She didn't seem particularly tired or worn out like he did. Then out of the blue, she plopped herself on top of him and pinned him down on the ground. She pulled his arms up over his head and held his wrists tightly. Her thick legs wrapped around his and held him firmly. "Mariana...what are you...?" And as he said the words, he tried to resist, but he felt like he could not. "What are you doing?"
"Just seeing if I could do this," she said cheerfully.
"Do what?"
"Hold you down. Are you trying to get up?"
"No," he said, defensively. She weighed more than him and she was very strong. It felt like he could not get up even if he had tried his hardest.
"Well, try. I want to see if I can hold you down."
"No, Mariana, I have to get home. I have a lot of homework to do. I have a science test tomorrow."
"Come on, Ron. Wrestle me. I want to know if I could take you."
"You can't take me, okay? Now get off me. I gotta go."
"No, try to get up." The chunky girl drove her large thighs up into the older boy's bottom, driving a wedge under him and lifting his lower body off the ground. He felt embarrassed that she had him in this awkward and compromising position. He tried for a moment to push up on her, but only felt his legs dangle uselessly in the air. He was trapped by her thigh muscles that would not budge under him. It felt like he could not move his arms either. And for a few humiliating seconds, he was pretty sure, his younger sister was physically dominating him. Then she squatted up off him and said, "Okay, I guess it's time to leave."
Ron stood up uneasily and looked around the field, uncertain about what to do next. "Well, I guess you won," Mariana said with a forced sigh. "I guess I have to piggyback you home now."
Ron just stood there. "Oh...uhhh...That's alright. You don't have to."
"No, a deal's a deal."
"Really, Mariana, forget it."
Mariana glared at him and said, "Ronald. Get your little butt over here. Now." Ron didn't know what to make of her tone and he hated being called, 'Ronald,' but before he could respond, Mariana grabbed him by one arm and jerked him toward her very easily. He was shocked by her strength. She yanked on his arm so hard, for a moment, it felt like she had pulled it from the socket. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder, making him gasp. Mariana had never been so rough with him. It upset and disturbed him. Then, still holding his arm in her tight grip, the younger girl commanded him, "Hop up on my back." Ron shrugged and jumped on. She caught his thin legs with her arms and hoisted him up, grunting huskily. As he rested on her broad back, he observed the ease with which the teen girl supported his weight. It was not difficult for her at all. Mariana was stronger than he thought.
She walked proudly toward the parking lot, carrying her brother energetically. Ron could feel her fat, powerful legs propelling them below and he felt a little foolish that a younger girl could carry him so easily. "I'll have your little butt home in 15 minutes," she said. Mariana smiled to herself.
She carried him all the way home. It was over 2 miles of hilly terrain and she didn't set him down until they were at the doorstep. Ron felt like a little monkey as he climbed off her strong back. "There you go," she sang. Then she walked inside and bounced up the stairs to change. Ron slumped on the couch and put on the TV. He felt strange about what had just happened. He didn't know how to process everything: his sister out muscling him on the soccer field, the wrestling, her pulling him, the piggyback ride. It was all pretty unsettling.
Mariana came downstairs wearing a workout top and spandex leggings. Sparkling new running shoes were on her feet. Her hardy ankles were bare. She sat down on the couch next to her brother. He stared at her fat thighs. Her quad muscles bulged under the elastic as she shifted her weight. Mariana caught her brother staring at them and so she flexed them some more. Ron looked at his own scrawny legs and frowned. Then he studied her upper body in her revealing cut-off tank. She was big in her back, shoulders and biceps too. Ron couldn't believe it, but his 15-year-old sister looked bulked up. Mariana was pleased to see her brother noticing her like this. She wanted him to know who was the more muscular between them. Ron might have been a better natural athlete and a better soccer player, but Mariana was bigger.
"What do you think of my muscles?" she asked.
Ron tried not to respond to this. "I don't know," he shrugged apathetically.
"Look," Mariana commanded. Then she made a muscle with her right arm. It balled up hard and round. Her biceps were big. Ron stared at her plump muscle fearfully. The younger girl smiled and started to show off, pumping it again and again. Her huge muscle bulged and bounced as she flexed it. Ron felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Go ahead, try and squeeze it," she urged. Ron put his hand around her big, solid muscle. It bulged bigger than his hand could contain. He could not believe her size or the roundness of her muscles. And it was way harder than any muscle he'd ever felt. Her muscles were too solid for squeezing. He tried, but she was like rock.
"Strong, huh?" she said, proudly. "Why don't you make a muscle so we can compare..." Mariana teased, knowing full well, her brother didn't have arms like hers. 'He didn't have @#%$,' she thought to herself. She could see in his eyes how hurt he was and how ashamed he felt. It was the first time in his life that he felt wimpy compared to his sister. As she made her round muscles bulge and pop, she seemed more jockey than him. She was more butch and more buff. Her legs, her arms, her back, her shoulders, her butt...She was a big, muscular girl and she seemed brimming with confidence and determination. Ron suddenly felt like a little nimrod sitting next to her.
"Do you want to wrestle again?" she asked him out of the blue.
"No."
"Oh come on," she sang as she turned and got on his lap. Her big thighs straddled him, aggressively. She grinned as she felt her brother's squishy thighs deflate like balloons under her muscular weight. Even relaxed, her legs were strong and dominant, seeming to trap him there just by kneeling on him this way. She smiled at him like she knew it. She knew her thighs and calves were brutal. She was too muscular to be gentle. This thin boy was at her mercy and she wasn't even trying yet.
"No, Mariana..."
"Are you afraid of my muscles?" she asked, pumping her twin guns into two bulging balls for him. "Go ahead. Feel them again," she said. Ron looked uneasily at his sister as she flexed her titanic biceps again. He felt them gingerly. "My muscles are hard, right?" Ron nodded weakly.
"Come on, Little Man. Let's wrestle." She grabbed him around the neck with both arms and pulled him toward her. "I want to wrestle you," she cooed as she forced him down on to the floor with her.
"...I don't want to..." her brother whined as he fought her, trying to get away. But Mariana flipped his weightless body over on his back and climbed on top of him. In seconds, she had him pinned again, like she had him in the park, her big legs grapevining his so he could not move them. "Mariana, no." he sighed, meekly. Then the stronger, younger girl spread his thighs apart, dominantly. He gasped in shock and humiliation. He could not stop her. The big legs forced his groin open and bent him out like a pretzel. He felt like a human wishbone, his spindly legs about to snap. He felt vulnerable. He felt weak and he was helpless.
"I got ya now," she said, confidently. Then she spread his thighs again, harder, grunting as she did it. He responded by grunting in pain. "Pretty tough, huh?" she said, triumphantly. She did this again and again, establishing herself as her brother's pain-giver. She laughed at the contrast between her playful, mock-angry grunts and his pained wailing grunts, which only served to swallow the whimpers underneath. "Yeah..." she oozed contently. "I'll stretch your skinny ass..." She did it to him over and over again and she could hear his gasps and grunts becoming more shrill and desperate. He was hurting. She knew he was hurting.
In a last-ditch effort, Ron began to pound on his sister's thighs and butt with his fists, but she was too muscular to feel any pain there. She flexed her thighs and hardened her glutes into an invincible shell of flesh. Delighted that she had reduced him to such a pathetic act, she giggled and whispered in his ear, "No way out..." She bent his thighs apart again and listened to his soft whimpers. "Do you want me to let you go?"
"Yes."
"Say it."
"Let me go."
"No, say it."
"I want you to let me go."
"Say please."
"Please."
"Please let me go."
"Please let me go."
"Say my name."
"Mariana."
"Again."
"Mariana."
"Say that Mariana is stronger."
"Mariana is stronger."
"Do you give?"
"Yes."
"Say you give."
"I give."
"Say it again."
"I give." And with that she got off her brother and squatted up. Ron remained on the floor for several moments. He was silent and so was she. They both knew that everything between them was now different. In the span of 10 minutes (the last 10 minutes), their whole relationship had been redefined. Gone were Ron's arrogance and his notions of superiority over his sister. His cocky attitude toward her was over. His taunting ways were a thing of the past. This was a new world order: Mariana was in charge. She was tougher. She was stronger. She had beaten her big brother and made him squeal and made him cry and made him submit. They both recognized that she had kicked his ass like a little bitch
He climbed to his feet slowly and was about to go into the kitchen, when Mariana stopped him. "Now Ronald, I want you to go upstairs in my room and clean it. Put away all my clothes in my closet. Make my bed. Vacuum my rug and reorganize my CD's into alphabetical order."
"But...Mariana...it's your room. Don't you think you should clean it yourself?"
"No. I have to go downstairs and workout." Mariana had been lifting weights in the basement for the past year. Today was her day for chest and back. She was going to do bench presses and dumbbell flies. Then bent-over rows, chin-ups and good-mornings. "Now get your little butt upstairs and clean my room."
"But..."
"I don't want to hear another word out of you. If you want to discuss this, I might have to wrestle you again and I know you don't want that. Right?" Ron just looked at her and nodded. "Okay then. Get your little butt up there. Now." Ron looked into her eyes and he could see her prideful joy. She was beaming, extremely proud of her power over her older brother. She could hardly contain herself.
He stared down at the floor as he walked out of the living room. He couldn't believe this was happening. He felt so defeated and humiliated. And he was ashamed of himself that he was actually allowing himself to be bossed around like this by his younger sister. But she was bigger. And she was stronger. She was in control.

[mattu]

Thanks!

[Brfan]

I was browsing through old Armfan's website (through wayback machine) and bumped into three stories of this master that weren't on this topic. here they go:


Strong Mom       
       
        "God, Mom. You really do look strong," said Adam, trying to sound unbothered by this. Joanna was in her 40's, but she did aerobics and trained with weights, daily. She had a stronger-looking body than her son who was 20. Adam knew his mom's body looked stronger than his, but he told himself he was still the man around the house. He had grown up without a dad and as he got older, he felt it was his job to taking on some of the duties and responsibilities that a man should have. He was in college and sometimes he felt pretty mature. But the fact that his mom looked stronger than him definitely hurt his male ego.
        He took a deep breath and said, "I want to find out how strong you really are." It made him nervous to do this, but he really had to know. She certainly had a very built body. But the possibility that maybe she wasn't as strong as she looked, gave him a glimmer of hope.
        "Okay," she said, looking at him carefully. She needed to be cautious with this situation. She knew she was strong and her son was not. She loved Adam and he was a good boy, but he did not work out. She thought he looked like a weakling. She knew she could knock him on his ass. But she did not want to hurt his feelings. "What do you want to do?"
        "Let's arm-wrestle," Adam said, cheerfully.
        "Sure," she said. She had just come from the gym. She was still a little sweaty with her hair tied back in a cute ponytail. Her body looked powerful and tight in her workout leotard. She was 5'4" and 155 pounds with a bowling ball butt and a thick-muscled back. In her cut-off tank, her shoulders and biceps looked big and pumped. Her hard sixpack rippled as she breathed.
        She suddenly felt very self-concious, looking at her son who, at 5'9" and 142 soft pounds, had no muscle tone at all. But she couldn't help the fact that her muscles bulged hard everywhere. Her shapely bulk just dominated the room as she moved toward her nervous son and sat down across from him.
        He looked under the table at her big, hard thighs. Her blue, spandex tights clung to her big legs. He always thought of her as being muscular in a compact way, but he could see now her legs were really much bigger than his. Her thighs were just plain big. Her calves were plump and powerful. His mother had monstrous, big-muscled legs that indicated a very strong person. He had little sissy legs by comparison. It made him ashamed.
        Still, he entertained the hope that her muscles were mostly just for show. "Okay, Mom. Let's see what you got," he said, putting his elbow up on the table. Joanna laughed and said, "Okay, Kiddo." They grasped hands and each got a comfortable grip, although Adam could feel how strong his mom's grip was and it worried him.
        "You say, Go," Adam insisted like a gentleman. Joanna nodded.
        "Go." Adam immediately began straining against his big-muscled mom. But he was too weak. The 40 year old woman powered her son's limp arm down in a few seconds. Adam's male pride was crushed.
        "God, you're so strong..." he lamented. Joanna could see how hurt he was.
        "It's okay, Honey."
        "It's not okay. I can't believe you're so strong. I just can't believe it."
        "Well, I'm in really good shape. That's all." Joanna's hulky body stretched in her chair.
        Adam brightened a bit. "Maybe I'd do better against you at something else."
        "Like what?"
        Adam thought for a minute. "How about real wrestling?"
        "Okay. Sure." Joanna forced a smile. She was trying to be positive and supportive, but she also felt the need to be realistic. "I mean...we can try it if you want, but you have to understand that I'm a strong woman, Adam. I'm not going to be easy for you to wrestle. I'm extremely muscular."
        "Oh, I know. I just think maybe I could get some good falls in. You know, with my quickness and some decent moves." Joanna nodded, reluctantly. They walked into the living room and knelt down on the carpet.
        In less than a minute, Joanna had her son in a brutal full-nelson hold. Adam squirmed uncomfortably as he felt his mother's strength nearly bending him in half. She was in total control of him as she wrapped her monstrous thighs around his delicate body. First he grunted. Then he cried out. Joanna listened to her son's whimpers with mixed feelings. She felt bad for him, but she also felt he had to accept the fact that she was strong, a lot stronger than him. So what if she was his mother? She did aerobics and she trained with weights. She was big and she was hard. She was a serious bodysculptor with serious muscle and he was an out-of-shape sissy. What did he expect taking on a big gymgirl like her, anyway? Did he really think she couldn't jack him up? Well, he had to learn then.
        And learn he did. In another minute, Adam was crying and begging his mother to stop hurting him. But Joanna went on grappling him, dominantly. Forcing him into all sorts of painful and embarrassing positions. She had him grunting and screaming and crying out for mercy. The humiliation became unreal. The female weight-lifter taught her son about pain. She taught him about receiving pain and not being able to make it stop. She taught him what it was like to be dominated by a woman who was bigger than he was. She taught him how helpless and vulnerable he was against someone with large, weight-trained muscles.
        The solid, in-shape woman pulverized her son and pounded him into submission. She dished out more punishment than any human could take. It went on for hours and it sent the helpless 20 year old into shock. The college boy began to babble incoherently. He was not making any sense, but Joanna persisted. She squeezed him with her thighs until he couldn't breathe and his eyeballs seemed about to pop out. She crushed his intenstines until he vomitted all over the rug. Then she squeezed all the air out of him so he passed out. The message she sent was clear: she could kill him if she wanted to. Such was her strength.
        When Adam recovered from the beating, he seemed fine and he never even mentioned what had happened. Neither of them did. But the change in him was apparent. He now accepted fully the fact that his mother was stronger than him and he loved her dearly, anyway.





My Best Friend's Mom is Strong and Sexy       

My best friend, Joe Dellarata, was on a business trip in Europe. His mom called me up and asked me if I could come over and help her move some furniture. This was a bit of a pain in the ass and it put a crimp in my Friday night, but I couldn't say, no. Joe's dad had passed away so his widowed mom didn't have anyone to help out at the moment. And Joe's family had become almost like a second family to me so I felt an obligation there.
        I arrived around 7 and rang the bell. Joe's mom answered the door. Her name was Connie, but I called her, Mrs. D. She smiled at me and told me to come in. She was a 42 year old woman, but she was still very pretty. Her short blond hair, pudgy face and glittery blue eyes made her very cute for her age.
        "That's a nice shirt, Tom," she said as I came in the house. It was a new shirt and I guess it was a little snazzy. I was wearing new jeans with it.
"Thanks," I said, politely.
Joe's mom was wearing snug-fitting sweats and her hair was in a little ponytail. "Oh, were you exercising?" I asked, casually.
"Sure was," she said, leading me into the living room. Being an athlete and in reasonably good shape, I was the one who had shown Joe's mom how to work out a few years ago. It was kind of cool that at her age, she was still keeping up with it.
"Still doing all the stuff I showed you?"
"Uh-huh," she nodded enthusiastically.
"Doing the weights, huh?"
"All the time..."
"I think it's great that you're still exercising. It's so good for you."
"Oh, I know. I love it. I go to the gym every day." I nodded in approval, noting to myself that I went once a week at the most. I had definitely slacked off the past few years. This was obviously not the case for Joe's Mom. The results of her gym work were evident in her body. It seemed almost sneaky the way this cute, suburban housewife had grown muscular. Her spandex pants were tight on her thighs and calves which were quite big and taut. They were the type of elastic pants that were loose on the bottom, but her calves were so big, they were bursting out of the material. Joe's mom's thighs and calves were bigger than mine.
Her shoulders looked big in her top. Her back looked really built and solid too. "Boy, you can really tell you've been working out a lot," I said. "You look strong."
"People always say that. They're like, "Oh, my God, Connie. You're muscular!"
I nodded. "Well, they're right. You almost look bigger than me," I said trying to kind of joke with her about it, but it was really true. I thought this older woman could nearly give me a run for my money with the way her physique looked in her clothes. Her muscles made her clothes fit really tight. I knew my clothes didn't fit me like that.
She laughed a little embarrassed. "No..."
I just smiled at her. We re-arranged some furniture in the living room to make way for a new coffee table that had been delivered. We moved the love seat and the sofa and the end tables and the TV cart and the wall unit. It was pretty hard work and I felt pooped by the time we were done. I couldn't help noticing that Joe's Mom was less out of breath than me during each task. Was she actually in better shape? We were both equally overheated and sweaty.
We sat down and had a few drinks and pretty soon we were flirting in a way that we never had before. We were talking and laughing very freely. It was weird, but very pleasant and intriguing. Our chairs were positioned on the same side of the table. Connie had kicked off her sneakers and rolled up her tight pants so her big calves were exposed. She reclined with her legs extended and her feet resting on the arm of my chair. As we talked, she began, playfully pushing my chair off balance. It was unnerving the way she pressed the chair up and down so easily with my weight in it. This woman's legs were strong. But I kept cracking jokes and she continued to giggle. She was so lovely and girlish, really quite stunning for her age, I thought.
She was the one who suggested that we go upstairs and lie down to relax. The way things were going, I didn't have a problem with it. The next thing I knew, I was curled up on the queen-sized bed with Joe's mom. I tried to take control of the situation sort of. I tried to really hold her and make her feel safe in my own macho way. Our legs had tangled up very comfortably, but I could feel unmistakably that her thighs and calves were much bigger than mine. They were solid and muscular and heavy and my thinner, softer legs were completely trapped by hers. She just grinned at me, apparently observing this as well.
"Hold me tight," she said, happily. I squeezed as tight as I could. "Tighter," she commanded with a grin. I doubled my efforts. "Tighter," she insisted. I was already squeezing as hard as I could, but this older woman's body was so bulky and hard. She felt like rock as I tried to squeeze her and I just couldn't make a dent. I never felt so weak before. "Is that all you got?" she asked, huskily like she knew she was big and buff. I just looked at her feeling at a loss. She seemed amused.
Joe's mom's shoulders had gotten big from working out. Her shoulders were bigger than mine now. I could feel this through her sweatshirt. I could also feel her muscular back which was unbelievable. Her back was all hard and lumpy and big. As we cuddled, my upperbody became crushed tighter and tighter so that it was obvious, this 42 year old woman was holding me and not the other way around. Her thick, muscular arms were around me and I couldn't move. I was trapped in her biceps. It was shocking. She was so strong, I didn't no how long I could take it before her overpowering embrace began to hurt me. I was feeling a little breathless already as this strapping woman hugged my poor, defenseless waist. Later I learned that she was 5'6" and 162 pounds. I was 5'9" and only 149.
Joe's mom watched me closely. She listened to my labored breathing and she giggled. "Are you okay?" she asked with a hoarse laugh.
"Yeah...Sure...Why?"
"You sound a little bit, out of breath," she commented with interest.
"Yeah, a little bit."
"I'm holding you pretty tight, huh?" she asked with amusement.
I nodded, trying to play the tough guy. "Oh, yeah. Pretty tight."
"I can hold you tighter," she informed me. Then this in shape 40 year old woman tensed her muscles everywhere and squooshed my soft body into oblivion. I couldn't speak at all. I just gasped, helplessly and looked away. I didn't want her to see how delicate I was against her strength. God, Joe's mom was strong! She continued to watch me, happily. It was clear to her I was fighting for my life in her muscular hug. "I guess I'm a little stronger than you, huh?" she asked. I nodded, grudgingly. It would have been silly to deny it. "Well, I'm bigger than you. More muscular."
I nodded again. "Does Joe know how strong you are?"
"He knows. He doesn't like it. I'm a lot stronger than him. My thighs and calves are bigger. My back is bigger and harder."
"You're so strong," I sighed, rolling my eyes, still suffering in her brutal embrace.
"Well, you know...it's from weight-lifting. I'm a very tough, strong girl. I work on my physique. Most women and men are not as built as I am. And I'm proud of that."
"You should be," I blurted out.
Connie laughed at this. "Is it too tight?"
I nodded desperately. "Too tight..."
"Okay," she bubbled, easing up.
"Thank you," I said, relieved and breathing easier. She was still holding me firmly so I was trapped by her strong body. She began to kiss me very aggressively and we made out for an hour. Joe's mom was so sexy and strong, I became very excited from the make-out session. She could tell I wanted more, but she stopped me, patting me on the nose lightly with one finger. "Uh-uh," she said. "My sister is coming over and I have to make dinner. Why don't we get together Sunday. Sunday afternoon."
"Um. Okay," I said, willingly. She walked me down the stairs and gave me a dominant hug and a passionate kiss. She looked into my eyes in this serious way that pierced right through me. I felt like she was this delicious school girl even though she was 40. I couldn't wait to see her again.




Girls vs. Boys: Two Sisters show their brothers who is Stronger

It was a warm August day and my family was having its annual pool party. It was parents, my aunt and uncle, a few neighbors, my sister, Katy, who was 14, my cousins Courtney, aged 11 and Marty, aged 10. It was a pretty relaxed time. I liked my cousins. We always had fun together and being 17, I was sort of the ringleader of the fun. Everyone followed my example, especially Marty. That kid really looked up to me. Well, he was right to. I was a fun guy. That afternoon, we had fun in the pool, played volleyball and had our share of water gun fights.
        But a conflict was brewing. It seemed that Courtney, being slightly older and bigger than Marty, was beginning to bully him a bit. She could best him physically at most anything and she seemed to enjoy proving it. In the pool, she beat him at swimming races and then got rough with him, throwing him around in the water, much to his frustration. Later, when we played volleyball, she kept spiking the ball on his head. And when we were having water gun fights, she kept pulling his gun out of his hand and blasting him with it.
        After a whole day of being shown up by his sister, I guess Marty lost it. He began screaming bloody murder about the water gun. He went to push Courtney, but the bigger girl barely budged. Then she pushed him back and he went flying. He fell backwards, very hard and bumped his head on the fence. He sat up and rubbed his skull, tenderly. He looked at Courtney, scared by her strength. She just glared at him. "Yeah, that's right, you little wimp. I'm stronger than you. You want to fight? We can fight. I'll beat you up."
        I finally stepped in. "Come on, Guys. Let's not fight."
        "Tell him not to," Courtney growled to me. "He started it, but I'll make him sorry. You wimp!"
        "Girls aren't supposed to be stronger than boys!" Marty cried, as he sat on the ground.
        "Girls are stronger, you little baby. Girls are always stronger."
        "No, they're not!" Mart shrieked. Then he got up and charged at her.
        "Stop it, you two," I said, trying to sound official. But Marty jumped on his sister's back and put her in a headlock. I looked across the yard at the parents who were not paying any attention to the scene. I shrugged. Hell, they weren't my kids. If they needed to fight to work this out, who was I to get in the way. I just leaned against the fence and watched the brutal wrestling match.
        When I say brutal, I mean it was brutal for Marty. Courtney played soccer and she had powerful legs. It was obvious she weighed more than her brother and she was in better shape. He clung to her back for a minute or so and she just piggybacked him around the yard, establishing herself as the stronger of the two. Then she slung him down on the ground and climbed on top of him. He wailed in terror as she pinned him with her soccer-girl legs. He was helpless against her and she would not let him up. She teased him and tormented him about being weaker as she held him there. I felt bad for the poor guy. I could see the tears in his eyes, he was so embarrassed.
        My young girl cousin grinned meanly at her brother and said, "You give?" Marty just grunted, uselessly. "Huh? You give?...Say you give and I'll let you up."
        "I...okay..."
        "Say it."
        "I give."
        "You see? I'm a girl and girls are stronger than boys, you wimp."
        "Let me up," he whined.
        "Not until you admit it."
        "Let me up."
        "Admit that I'm stronger and that girls are stronger."
        "Okay."
        "Okay, what?"
        "Girls are stronger."
        "And I'm stronger."
        "Yes."
        "Say it."
        "You're stronger."
        "Very good," said Courtney, removing her chunky legs from her victim's torso. She squatted up and stood over her defeated brother. "You boys are always such wimps."
        I guess I'd had enough of that talk because I chimed in, "Courtney, you only beat him because you're older than him and bigger. I mean, how much do you weigh?"
        She looked at me curiously. "I'm 5'1" and 125 pounds."
        "See? Marty, you're like...what?"
        "I'm 5' and 84 pounds."
        "Oh, come on, Courtney. That's not even a fair fight."
        "Yeah, it wasn't fair," Marty chirped.
        "Well, what's your height and weight, Keith?" she asked.
        "Oh, me? I'm 5'9" and 153."
        "That's not that big, you know. I have a friend who weighs more than you."
        "So what?" I barked, getting annoyed with her.
        "So that proves boys are wimpy. Girls are stronger."
        "Courtney, they are not. You're totally wrong."
The young girl looked me up and down, seeming unimpressed. "So who's stronger between you and Katy?"
"I am." I folded my arms. Just then, Katy climbed out of the pool. Grass stuck to her bare feet as she came over to us. She toweled off as she smiled at us. "Hey, you guys..."
Courtney eyed her for a moment and then continued her investigation. "Katy, who's stronger, you or Keith?"
Katy looked at Courtney, confused. I could tell she thought it was a weird question. "Uhmm. I don't know. Him, I guess..."
"Well, there's only one way to tell. Have you guys ever wrestled?"
I forced a laugh out and said, "No..." Katy giggled a little too. "I guess, not really."
"Well, that's the only way to know."
"Trust me, we already know," I assured the little pipsqueak.
"Well, maybe you should wrestle, just to be sure."
"I don't think that's necessary."
"Yeah, I knew you'd be afraid to wrestle her. It's because you're a skinny ass and she looks buff." Well, I didn't like to admit it, but it was true, I'd noticed Katy's body lately. She was 5'4" with great legs, a tight rear and a fit upper-body. She looked like a strong girl with very solid muscles, especially when she wore her bathing suit which fit her nicely. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but it wasn't. Katy looked muscular from swimming and she weighed more now than I had just last year at 145 pounds. She may have been in shape, but I was still bigger than her and I was not afraid of her at all.
"Now that's bullshit, Courtney. I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid at all. I just know I'd win."
"So why don't you just see? I just proved girls are stronger by beating my brother. If you think you're right and boys are stronger, why don't you prove it by beating your sister?"
I gave up. The little tyke was persistent. "Fine. I'd wrestle her, if she wanted to...But I bet she doesn't, right, Katy? You probably don't want to get hurt."
"No, I don't think I'd get hurt. I'll wrestle you, if you want."
I looked at her, very disappointed by this. "Really?"
She smiled and shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"
"Good!" Courtney encouraged. "Let's go, right now. Let's see who's really stronger. Girls or boys."
"Let me finish drying off first," Katy said. She plopped down on my beach chair and crossed her legs right next to mine. I could see her thighs were bigger. She had bigger calves too. Her legs looked solid, compared to mine. Her legs must have weighed more. I examined her whole body, from her swollen, round calves to her broad, swimmer shoulders. Katy looked like she was all muscle. I had to wonder if I really weighed more than her.
I guess she saw me staring at her muscles because she smiled, shyly at me and said, "I know. I look solid, right?"
"Uhmm...a little bit. Yeah." It was an embarrassing question.
"We can't all be mushy like you," she joked, pinching my soft thigh, pointedly. It hurt. Then she patted her fat, solid thighs, firmly and said, "Whew, I got big thighs, huh? I better cut down on the steaks."
"Come on. Let's go," insisted Courtney.
My sister smiled at me. "Are you ready?" she asked.
"Katy, you know, you don't have to do this, if you don't want to."
"What? No, it's fine."
"I just mean, I know you don't really wrestle and well, this whole girls vs. boys thing is kind of stupid. You know?"
"What, you think, I can't wrestle because I'm a girl?"
"No, Katy. That's not what I meant..."
"Look at these muscles." Then Katy stood up and flexed her quads for me. They bulged. She turned and hit a double bicep pose. Her muscles were like rocks. Even her shoulders popped up as she flexed. She turned around and showed off her very built back and her powerful ass. Her calves looked like the biggest muscles I'd ever seen. Katy's body was awesome. If it had been a bodybuilding contest, I'm ashamed to say, my younger sister would have creamed me.
"In a way, I look stronger than you, don't you think?" she asked. "I mean, you don't have hard muscles like this," she said with her hands on her hips. She walked powerfully toward me in this Supergirl pose, her thick, husky physique making me seem almost delicate by comparison.
"Well, this should definitely be interesting," I said, trying to sound cheerful in the face of her surprising confidence.
"Come on, Katy. You can whip him. He's a wimp."
"You better watch yourself, Courtney..."
My cousin ignored me. "Show him who's boss. Right now!"
Katy giggled and said, "Courtney, shut-up. You're making me nervous." I grinned at Katy a little as if to say, 'Hey, you got us into this...' Then we squared off and began to circle each other.
Marty was very excited. He stood nearby, watching, eyes wide as saucers. "Get her, Tom! Beat her up!" Katy and I inched closer and closer and then our arms locked up. I shifted my weight to the left and pulled down on her. She resisted successfully and as I dropped to my knees, Katy stayed on her feet. But she didn't know what to do and just spread her bare feet in the grass, readying herself for my takedown. I went in and grabbed her legs behind her knees. Crawling forward and pushing, I drove her back. She tried to backpedal and stay up, but I rammed her with all my might and put her on her back.
"Yeahhhhh! Go, Tom! Go! Get her good!" cheered Marty, suddenly feeling vindicated, it seemed.
        I scrambled up Katy's body and straddled her with my legs. She laughed and wriggled under me like a worm. But I grabbed her wrists and pushed them down flat on the ground. She lay there under me for several seconds and I looked at Courtney and said, "There. See? She's pinned."
        Courtney shook her head in denial. "No, that doesn't matter. That doesn't mean anything. Who's stronger is the person who can make the other person give. You have to make her say, 'Give' like I did to Marty. He was begging for me to let him up. Remember?"
        I sighed. "Fine." I turned to Katy. "You give?" She just smiled. "Come on, Katy. Give..." I wanted this to be over...fast.
But suddenly, Katy popped me up off the ground by pushing her legs up at me. She popped me up again and again. Then she pressed me up off the ground slowly and held me in the air. My hands were still pressing down on her wrists, but I had no leverage to speak of, at all. I felt pretty silly up there, my sister's strong legs supporting my body so easily. And she began to giggle as I guess I looked pretty silly to her as well. She squatted her legs for momentum and then thrust her legs upward very forcefully. In effect, she kicked me off of her and I needed a moment to recover.
Katy came barreling in at me, but took one of her arms and pulled her down under me again. This time, I wrapped my legs around one of her legs and held at tightly as I could. I pushed her wrists up over her head and tried the pin again. "Give," I demanded, triumphantly. Katy wriggled under me like she had before. I could feel her thick leg, the muscles flexing, as she moved it around under me.
But then her arms just pushed up on mine with terrible strength and for a few seconds her arms were off the ground, holding mine up. I pushed back and got them flat again. But that only lasted for a few seconds. Katy began pushing up again and my arms began to move upward again. This time, I strained against her, trying to keep both her arms down, but Katy kept pushing and pushing and she had too much strength for me to hold her arms back. She pushed me all the way up off her so she was supporting my torso with her arms. From this position she pressed me up and down, up and down, like I was the dead weight of an exercise machine designed to work out arms. This was a little unnerving. My sister just laughed and kicked her leg free of my scissor. She did this rather easily, it seemed.
I jumped on her again and put her in a headlock. She knelt beside me and tried to pull my arm free, but I held on for a while. Then she stood up and yanked her head violently in my hold, again and again. She was practically pulling my whole body off the ground as she did this. I hung on for dear life, but she yanked and yanked so forcefully, I eventually had to let go, because she was hurting me. She was like a wild bronco, bucking me and having no regard for my body at all.
I lunged in at her legs, like I did before, but she bent down and grabbed me around my belly. She picked me up off the ground and held me against her chest. I hated being lifted like this. I didn't like the feeling that my younger sister could pick me up so easily.
She dropped me on my stomach and sat on me. I could feel her firm butt on my back and she felt heavy. Then I felt a strong arm around my neck and I felt what it was like to be in a headlock by my younger sister. It did not feel good. My sister was so strong. I couldn't budge her arm at all and I could feel her round bicep muscle bulging into my adam's apple very tightly. She pulled back on me and lifted my torso off the ground. I felt a terrible strain on my lower back. I screamed. Katy laughed and rolled off me, releasing me from her horrible headlock. My neck was hurting, but it was my back that concerned me. I reached back and massaged it to relieve the agony.
"You okay?" she asked, amused.
"I'm fine. You're the one who's not going to be okay in a second."
My sister had made me angry with this stunt. She had hurt me and I didn't think it was right. I was not trying to hurt her at all. What the hell did she think she was doing? I caught my breath and then I went on the attack with a new, vicious abandon. I put Katy in a headlock that made her know I meant business. I could hear her breathing heavy as I put the clamp on her. Moving quickly, I maneuvered myself around her and put her on her back once again. I climbed up her and readied myself for her rebuff.
But quickly, I had to ask myself, what exactly could I do against her? Right away, her arms began pushing up on mine and I couldn't hold her down. Then those legs began bouncing me up and down like a helpless baby boy.
I gawked at her straining arm muscles, hardening as she pressed my arms to the sky. This young girl had biceps: rounder, harder and yes...bigger, than mine. I just couldn't handle the strength of her mighty muscles. "Are you trying?" Katy asked, surprised at how easily she was able to control my arms.
Meanwhile, our lower bodies went at it, matched leg for leg. I tried to hold her pumping trunks at bay beneath me. But her thighs were bigger. Her calves were fatter. The mass of her leg was just too much to control. And it was all muscle and power, bucking me and bouncing me and juggling me however she chose.
The strong 14 year old just laughed as her whole body began to overpower mine. She was delighted at the prospect that she was stronger than her brother. And for the first time, I realized that I was losing to my younger sister.
Other people at the party had gathered now. My father, my mother, my aunt and uncle and some of the neighbors. My mother watched with a look of dread on her face. My father looked on horrified as his eldest son fell under the muscular control of his his younger sister. He gave me a look that said, 'Is that the best you can do against her?'
Katy rolled me off her and then we embraced in a body-to-body, grappling hug. She was on top, her strong arms gripping my middle so tight, it was hard to breathe. My arms were around her body too, squeezing as hard as I could, but my sister's back was too thick to notice. Having no effect, my hands moved to just feeling her strong back, my fingers moving over more muscle than I had in my own. It was a humiliating thing as I realized what a little bodybuilder Katy was. And the awesome deficit that lay between her body and mine. Her bicep balls popping out of her arms. The ridges she had in her stomach, hard, mean abs. From her bigger, broader shoulders to her thick-muscled, perfectly-round behind, Katy's physique dominated mine, every pound of her. And she began to dominate our encounter in a way I'd never imagined, not even in my worst nightmares.
Like a tiger happy to play with her prey, my sister crawled up my body and lay herself down on me heavily. Her fat-muscled calves wound around my legs and straightened them like two chopsticks. She gripped my wrists powerfully and pressed them down on the ground so I couldn't lift my arms. I could not move. My sister was so strong, it was humiliating. She smiled into my face, knowing she had me pinned, helpless.
"Come on, try to get up," she taunted.
"Come on, Tom!" urged Marty. "You can't let her win that easy! You're a boy and she's a girl! Boys are stronger than girls!"
"Go ahead. Try..." Katy hissed, sexily, her big thighs crushing my thin legs. "Try..." But I dared not try any more than I already had. I didn't want anyone watching to see my sister's extreme strength any more than they already had. The raw power of her muscles could hold me like this for as long as they wanted or they could snap me in half like a twig. I didn't know what Katy would do if I challenged her any further.
"See? I knew Katy was stronger," Courtney bragged. "You can tell just looking at her muscles."
"She is not stronger!" shouted Marty. "Come on, Tom! Get her off you and make her pay!" I looked up at Marty, helplessly. He gave me a smile of encouragement. I shook my head a little as if to say, 'I'm doing the best I can, Man...I'm sorry to tell you that, but...it's true..." He still looked hopeful though.
After holding me there for several minutes, Katy changed positions. With surprising speed, Katy turned her muscular body around on top of me so her legs were where my head was and her firm butt was sitting on my crotch. Then with great pleasure, she proceeded to spread her calves over my face, first one and then the other, just to show off how big they were and how wide the muscle spread when she pushed it down. She was able to cover my eyes, nose and mouth completely with her calves. This was a whole new level of humiliation. In between being smothered by calf muscle, I could see my father's face, disgusted that I could allow such an indignity to be done to me by a younger girl. Katy just sighed happily as she played with me. She swung her big calves back and forth in front of my face, dangling them and laying them flat over my mouth and nose so I couldn't breathe. They were so big and so heavy. "Kiss them," she commanded. I did. First one and then the other. The 14 year old giggled.
Katy grabbed me by my shirt, roughly and pulled me up into a sitting position. Still sitting in my lap, she threw her big thighs over mine. She locked her ankles behind me and crushed my middle with terrible strength. I screamed. She laughed. It was an evil laugh, a laugh of power, a cackle of supreme control. She had caused the pain with just her knees, basically. It was a fraction of her strength. She had barely used her legs and she hadn't used her butt at all...yet.
But then she slid herself closer so her tree-trunk thighs were up against my stomach and back. She put me in a headlock, just to control me and then she put the muscle-squeeze on me again, both leg and arm. I gasped at the unbelievable strength of my swimmer sister. "Had enough yet?" she asked, cheerfully.
"Yes..." I grunted, helplessly.
"I'll bet ya have," she beamed.
A minute later, it got even worse, so excruciating, I could hardly take it. I reached around and pounded on her hard butt which was now tensed for increased muscular power. And the brute strength she had in her big buns was terrifying. As she relaxed and tensed her large bun muscles, I honestly feared for my physical well-being. Her buns were like steel. They were the biggest, hardest muscles I'd ever seen in my life. If she wasn't careful, this 14 year old girl could hurt me. She could really hurt me.
What was happening was very embarrassing, but her muscular squeeze on my body was just too much. I couldn't stop the tears when they came. She lay me down like this, continuing to squeeze and make me gasp and cry and grunt in agony.
She toyed with me a little more, rolling me this way and that. "God, Tom. I never knew you were so weak. What a sissy you are," she scoffed. "You can't do anything...I am just too strong for you..." I just moaned and tried to swallow my saliva which was becoming thick and dry from the punishment I was receiving.
She moved into a full-nelson on me and pulled me up straight. When she sat me up, I could see everyone staring quietly in disbelief at my predicament. Even little Marty's face had changed. Even he could see I was beaten. Beaten badly. His embarrassing loss was nothing compared to the one-sided affair I had been a party to. I had been dominated in a humiliating fashion. I had been taken apart, completely. I'd gotten my ass kicked in a way I'd never thought possible.
And it hadn't happened at school at the hands of some big bully who was older than me. My shameful defeat had occurred on our back lawn, in front of friends and family. I had been conquered by a girl and not just any girl. My younger sister had kicked me ass in front of everyone. She had given me and everyone else, a rude awakening about who was the stronger, physically dominant sibling in the family. And it was not the big brother, as people might have expected. The teenage girl on the swim team, the one who was muscular, the one with the great body...she was stronger than her brother. My sister was stronger than me.
Katy brought her big, shapely legs around my waist and locked her ankles in my lap. She squeezed me gently and I protested with a frightened grunt. I grabbed her thick calves and tried to pry them apart meekly. It was no use. Then she tightened her arms around my neck and said, "Now that's enough of that..." I stopped promptly. Katy was in control.
"Well, I can do this to you all day, but this wrestling match is over. It's been over. I'm stronger, Tom. I guess I've been stronger for a while now. You must have suspected. Just look at my body. And look at yours. Admit it. I look stronger. I've got muscles. Right?"
I nodded.
        "Right? Say it."
        "...Right."
"You're a weakling and you look like a sissy with no muscle tone or anything, all stringy and thin and soft. Right?"
"...Yes."
"Say, I'm right."
This was too mortifying for words. "...Katy...please stop..."
"Shut up and say it or I'll make you cry." My father was staring at the ground. I guess he was too ashamed to watch any longer.
"...You're right."
"You're not in shape. You're not tough. You never have been. Right?"
"...Right."
"Well, I can't help it if I've gotten big. I can't help it if I've gotten too strong for you to handle. I'm muscular and you're wimpy. It's just the way it is and everyone here can see it's the truth. So do you give?"
"I give..."
My sister let me go. I flopped to the ground exhausted and humiliated. My cheeks were hot with embarrassment.
My sister turned to our cousin. "You were right, Courtney. Girls are stronger than boys."