Little Sister Is A Big Bully

[daviology]

Please write more stories. Can't wait to see what Kylie will do next.

[daviology]

Reach Your Target Audience

Advertising is hard. We make it simple and effective.

Advertise With Us →

[grbaclig]

Please write more stories. Can't wait to see what Kylie will do next.

I've been traveling for the past couple of months, but I'm back now and will start writing Part 3 soon. 

[daviology]

Thanks GRBACLIG. One question : will we ever see Kylie fight 5-10 or more alpha males in a fight ?

[jumpy999]

Please write more stories. Can't wait to see what Kylie will do next.

I've been traveling for the past couple of months, but I'm back now and will start writing Part 3 soon.

Hell yeah! Welcome back, grbaclig!

[wissen]

Please write more stories. Can't wait to see what Kylie will do next.

I've been traveling for the past couple of months, but I'm back now and will start writing Part 3 soon.

Welcome back!

I just hope to see more about Lola

[ame3cv62]

Yes welcome back,and i 2nd that more lola.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Looking forward to it, as always, welcome back! k+!

[grbaclig]

Part 3, Chapter 36

        Bill Booker's cry of pain was still ringing in my ears as our plane took off, and we left the warm weather of Brazil to return to the frozen winter of the American Northeast.  The sound of women laughing at a dominated man was still ringing in my ears the rest of the week as winter break ended, and I got back into the rhythm of the school year.
        Kylie was all over the news.  If I watched a sports channel I had to hear pundits refer to her as the most dominant athlete on the planet.  If I watched serious news I had to hear commentators refer to her as the pinnacle of human development, given that every drug test and physical examination showed her to be a normal 13 year old girl, despite unprecedented muscle mass and strength.  If I watched an entertainment channel I had to hear female celebrities refer to her as their girl-crush, and gush about her power, her beauty, and the confidence that she exuded in everything that she did. 
        Once again, it was all about her.
        I could no longer avoid living in Kylie's shadow, so I tried to ignore it.  I stopped watching TV, reading news apps and listening to podcasts.  Instead I focused on school, in hopes that I could at least get a scholarship to a college far away from home, so that I could more than just 'Kylie's brother'.
        Allison, on the other hand, had become obsessed with weightlifting.  She worked out twice per day, and had little time for anything else.  We were still officially a couple, but she only came over to use Kylie's old gym in the basement, or to fuck my mom.  And that was probably for the best.  Although Allison was still being polite and treating me kindly, her sudden drive to get stronger had made her quiet and distant, and her eyes burned with a primal intensity that frightened me.

        It was the first Sunday in February, and Dad had just finished making a brunch.  Mom had been steadily getting bigger and stronger under Kylie's tutelage, and now ran the house with an iron fist.  Dad tried to stand up to her once in January, but she picked him up by the neck and choked him until he begged for forgiveness.  From that day onward dad and I did all the cooking and cleaning while mom spent her time working out, gossiping with her friends and fucking Allison.   "Rick why don't you go down to the gym and tell Allison and tell her that brunch is ready?" mom asked as she examined her abs in the hallway mirror, holding up both her blouse and her huge boobs, while twisting her torso so that her obliques and serratus muscles rippled.  "Growing girls need to eat, after all."
        I quietly obeyed, and went down into the basement, where I could hear the girlishly soft grunts of Allison's exertions, and the thunderously loud reports of her fists striking the heavy bag.  I froze in my tracks halfway down the stairs.  It had been weeks since I had seen Allison wearing anything other than heavy winter clothes, and I was now seeing her completely naked except for a pair of MMA gloves.  And she was ripped. 
        Allison had been working out like crazy, and I had gotten used to the idea of her being fit and toned, but now she was downright muscular.  Her calves, hamstrings and glutes swelled with mass as she bounced on her feet.  Her obliques, ribs and lats rippled with muscle as she shifted her torso.  Her delts, triceps and biceps hardened with power as she drove her fists into the punching bag again and again.  The heavy bag hopped and twitched under the force of Allison's punches, which were as fast and relentless as machine-gun fire, and I felt a tingle of fear run up my spine.  Allison was still in high school, but her muscular development and punching power reminded me of a professional fighter, and the anger that burned in her eyes reminded me of a wild animal.  "Dad made some pancakes," I said nervously as Allison stopped attacking the bag.
        "Come down here for a second," she said, removing her gloves.
        I obeyed, and walked down into the basement, stopping a few feet away from Allison, who stood tall and proud, her chiseled body dripping with sweat.  "What's up?" I asked, try to stay cool.
        "So, what do you think?" she asked.  "It's been a while since you've seen me naked, and I've been making crazy gains ever since I started using the girls-only lifting program from Kylie's Insta."
        I didn't know what to say.  Allison was still drop-dead beautiful, still had perfect tits, and still had an hourglass figure that most girls would need a corset to achieve.  But now her body was packed with thick angular muscles that looked like they were chiseled from granite.  Allison was still the hottest girl in school when she was wearing loose-fitting winter clothes, but I never liked athletic women, and her new muscles were a real turn-off.  But I didn't dare tell her that.  "You look really... strong," I said.
        "That's not what I mean," Allison said as we locked eyes.  "How does my body make you feel?"
        "Um," I said, hesitating.  "I don't know what you mean."
        Then Allison took a step toward me, and I instinctively hopped backward as if to avoid her grasp, her history of violent behavior and her powerful physique sparking a primal fear inside me.  Allison laughed as she flexed her right arm and looked adoringly at the peaked lemon-sized bicep that erupted upward.  "That's what I thought," she chuckled.  "This face, this body, and these muscles.  You don't know whether to feel horny or afraid, do you?"
        But I did know how to feel.  I felt afraid.  Allison had been abusive and manipulative throughout our entire relationship, up until Lola Lopez overpowered and humiliated her.  The only thing that made her nice was feeling weak.  If she felt strong again, she was going to be mean again, and I was going to suffer.  "So what do you think?"  Allison asked again, rising to her tiptoes and spreading her lats, her entire body throbbing with carved muscle and beaded with sweat.  "Tell me how my muscles look."
        "They're just... I don't know... big," I stammered.  "You look like a bodybuilder."
        "Mmm.  Yes I do," Allison said with a smile as she stroked her big thick quads.  "Keep talking."
        "I just... I don't know... Why do you want big muscles anyway?" I asked.  "You're a girl."
        When I said that, Allison stopped flexing her muscles and started pointing her finger.  "You have no idea what it's like to be a hot girl, Rick!" she said as she stomped toward me.  "Do you know how often a guy 'accidentally' brushes up against my tits or 'accidentally' touches my butt?  Do you know what it's like to walk down the street with a bunch of guys who are twice as big as you are looking at you with their creepy leering faces?  Do you know what it's like to know that most guys are, like, one drink away from pinning you up against a wall and groping you?"
        "I thought you liked being sexualized," I muttered.  "Why else would shake your tits so much?"
        As soon as those words left my mouth, I realized what a mistake I had made.  I expected Allison to rain punches on me, roaring with anger, the way she used to when I said things that she didn't like.  But instead she cocked her head and sighed.  "I guess I do kind of like being sexualized," she said.  "I love being so hot that men can't control themselves.  But I hate it when men try to touch me because they can't control themselves.  What can I say Rick?  Women are complicated."
        Without warning, Allison grabbed me by the collar and drew her fist back, and I cringed like a frightened dog.  Allison glared at me for just a second, then she laughed, lowered her fist and released me.  "Awesome," she said with a chuckle.  "I love being strong enough to scare men."
   
        A couple of minutes later we were all eating pancakes.  Dad and I sat in awkward silence as Allison and mom exchanged glances, flirting out in the open.  First Allison would pucker way too much as she popped strawberries into her mouth, showing off her luscious lips.  Then mom would lean over way too far to pour more orange juice, showing off her gigantic boobs.  Then Allison would make a big show of licking syrup from her lips.  Then mom would casually flex her biceps as she fixed her hair.  I tried not to notice them, but it was hard to ignore how they occasionally kicked me as they played footsie under the table.
        After brunch, Allison took a shower as dad cleaned the kitchen, and mom went downstairs to lift.  I was playing video games on the couch when Allison ran up, holding her phone.  "Why didn't tell me that Kylie is a fighter?" she asked excitedly.  "That's so cool!"
        "What do you mean 'Kylie is a fighter'?" I asked, my body aching with memories of all the beatings that Kylie inflicted on me over the years, each punch, kick, and choke hold still fresh in my mind.  "You mean like her karate lessons or whatever?"
        "How is it that you don't know anything about your own sister?" Allison asked with disbelief. 
        "We never really got along," I said, before trying to change the subject.  "Did you see-"
        "I don't get along with my brothers, but that's different, "Allison interrupted.  "Kylie is so awesome.  Don't you want to be closer to her and learn from her and, like, bask in her greatness?"
        A few months ago those words would have burned me like a red hot poker, but now I was so used to people gushing over Kylie that I just shrugged.  I guess I wasn't acting as cool as I thought, because Allison saw right through me.  "You are so jealous of her it's pathetic," she laughed.  "But anyway, she's all over social media, lobbying to get a shot at the UFC heavyweight title."

[grbaclig]

Part 3, Chapter 37

        I probably should have expected that Kylie would get into MMA.  She loved physical competition, she had been doing martial arts most of her life, and she loved hurting people.   The heavyweight championship was the top of the mountain, though.  The UFC took their championships and their rankings very seriously, and they were the de facto governing body for MMA fighting all over the world.  Kylie wouldn't be able to sneak in to a title shot like she did with the Mr. Olympia.  And because MMA history was full of freakishly big and strong people who got seriously hurt by skilled fighters, Kylie wouldn't be able to lawyer her way into a title shot on the grounds of her brute strength like she did with the World's Strongest Man.   After all, the guys in the UFC heavyweight division had been fighting for longer than Kylie had been alive, and brute strength didn't always prevail in MMA.  That gave me a glimmer of hope.    "I just hope she doesn't get hurt," I said, lying.
        "Kylie?  Get hurt?  As if," Allison laughed, shoving her phone in my face.  "Check this out."
        The President of the UFC had sent out a tweet saying that Kylie couldn't qualify for a title fight, because she wasn't a professional fighter.  "We can't just let people into the ring because they're celebrities who like to fight," he said.  "If we did that we would wind up with the Real Housewives having a slapfight.  We have a duty to our fans to showcase only the best fighters in the world."
        Kylie response was as confident and direct as her verbal communication.  "I'm undefeated in 11 amateur MMA bouts, all against men, none of whom made it out of the first round with me."
        Kylie's next tweet was a video compilation of several videos clips, all of which showed her defeating larger, older men with horrifying ease.  In the first clip, I recognized the pigtails and yellow romper she wore when she was 10 years old, as she rained punches down on a big bald man that she had pinned on his back, her muscular young legs trapping him in an achilles lock.  "She looks so young," Allison sighed, pausing the video, "but still just totally jacked."
        It was hard to argue with her.  The video clearly showed 10-year-old Kylie's thick round biceps balled up with power as she smiled down at the helpless man, the panic and pain plainly visible on his bloody face.  "I remember dad yelling at her because she got blood on that dress," I mumbled, remembering the screaming match that Kylie eventually won by driving her tiny fist into dad's stomach, dropping him to the floor like a sack of potatoes.  "She wasn't even 10 yet."
        The next video showed Kylie battering a fat bearded man with a flurry of punches as he cringed against the chain link walls of a cage.  She appeared to be about 11 years old, and was wearing her blue bandeau bikini, which allowed an unobstructed view of the muscular power coursing through her young body as she pummeled the much larger man with precision strikes.  His body jiggled with fat and twitched like a fish out of water as Kylie's tiny fists crashed into him again and again.  Kylie's body, on the other hand, rippled with muscles and moved with mechanical precision as she linked her punches together with terrifying efficiency.  Power flowed through her sculpted physique like a wave, from her bulging calves to her dimpled glutes to her chiseled ribs to her bulging lats to her rounded shoulders to her muscle-knotted arms, and finally to her fists, which pounded the big man's body with piston-like regularity.  The big man was drooping and shaking when Kylie launched a high kick that brought her shin crashing into his jaw, and brought his body crashing onto the ground.  She held the pose for just a second, her muscle-knotted back to the camera showing off her thick round butt which was practically bare beneath the shimmering blue fabric of her bikini.  Allison paused the video again.  "A girl that age is not supposed to have a body like that," she sighed.
        "She always told us she was going to a book club on Friday nights," I mumbled.  "She came back with scraped knuckles.  Mom and dad would ask her about it, but she just smiled and laughed..."
        The third clip must have been from last year, judging by the way that Kylie's blue bikini strained against the hulking landscape of her back and her muscle-rounded globes of her butt.  That was the body that Kylie paraded around the pool deck when Allison first came over, the body that Kylie used to pull herself out of the water and do a handstand on the diving board, the body that Kylie willed to bench-press 300 pounds when I dared to doubt her.  And now, in the clip playing on Allison's phone, it was the body that Kylie used to throw a huge man in a gi and black belt around a wrestling ring like a rag doll, her hamstrings more muscular than my quads, and her lats thicker than my forearms.  The video froze for just a second, so that some graphics could be superimposed.  The words '3-time Sambo world champion' appeared by an arrow that pointed to the large man, and the words 'girl power' appeared by an arrow that pointed to Kylie.  The graphics disappeared as the video resumed, just in time for Kylie to lift the burly man up by his collar and belt and throw him to the ground, face-first.  In a flash she was on him, straddling his back as her powerful young arms locked around his neck, trapping him in a headlock.  The man's face reddened as Kylie giggled at his useless attempts to power out of her hold.  The screen faded to plain white text appeared over a black background, reading "#letkyliefight".  "I've retweeted it like 100 times already,"  Allison said.  "i just hope it works."

        The next day I got home from school to find mom sitting on the couch, crying.  Dad tried to comfort her, but she shoved him away, nearly hurling across the room.  "What's wrong?" I asked.
        "It's Kylie," mom sobbed.  "They're going to let her fight in Mixed Ultimate Martial Arts thingy.  I'm so worried that I don't know what to do."
        Memories of all the violent beatings that I had seen Kylie administer filled my mind.  I remembered the videos that she posted to Insta showing her mauling grown men when she was still in grade school, I remembered the way she manhandled Kevin King and his friends while I watched in the park, and I remembered all the times that she had kicked my butt over the years.  But I couldn't remember Kylie losing a fight, or getting bruised, or even flinching.  "Kylie will be fine," I grumbled.
        "Oh I know that, silly," mom said, wiping tears from her eyes.  "I'm worried because she's so strong that she might kill someone, and wind up in jail.  And it's not just her strength.  She's always had quite a temper.   You of all people should know that, Rick.  Why, she almost killed you with her boobs just a few weeks ago.  Remember?  Remember when she smothered you with her boobs?"
        "I remember," I grumbled as I trudged upstairs.
        In my room, I broke my self-imposed exile from sports to check MMA news.  Sure enough, the UFC president had surrendered to Kylie's social media assault.  That wasn't surprising in and of itself, but I raised an eyebrow when I saw that Kylie would be fighting Hunor Horvath in Japan two weeks from now.  It would be very hard to prepare for a fight in only two weeks time, especially one on the other side of the planet.  And as if that wasn't enough, Kylie would have to submit to an unheard of array of drug tests and blood tests that would require her to give over two pints of blood the day before the fight.  The UFC claimed that Kylie's unique body required a unique level of scrutiny.
        And then there was her opponent, Hunor Horvath.  He wasn't the champion, or even highly ranked, but he was famous for being huge and fighting dirty.  He had injured at least 10 fighters in his career, and was always in trouble with the law for violent crimes.  According to rumors, he was only allowed to stay in the UFC because he was the UFC President's personal enforcer, a theory supported by the fact that several of the fighters Hunor injured had run afoul of the UFC prior to fighting him.
        The UFC was sending a clear message to Kylie by giving her the worst possible combination of preparation time, jet lag and opponent.  As if that wasn't enough, they were draining her blood.  They didn't want her in the UFC. 

        The flight to Japan took almost a whole day, and Allison spent most of her time watching the pre-fight promotional videos.  The first video was black-and-white video of Hunor Horvath talking to the camera, broken up with clips of his more savage victories.  Hunor was well over six feet tall, with a big broad body like a bear, and a face punctuated with a low brow and cauliflower ears.  "I'll fight anyone, anywhere," he barked at the interviewer.  "I don't care if she is a girl.  I've hit plenty of girls before.  Why would I care if this one has muscles?  I'm not afraid of a girl with muscles."
        The second video was a black-and-white video of Kylie talking to the camera, broken up with clips of her training.  "I've mastered Jujitsu, Krav Maga, Karate, Silat, Judo, Capoeria, Sambo, and Muay Thai," Kylie said casually, as if she was reading a shopping list.  "Besides that I'm a lot stronger, a lot faster, and a lot more well-conditioned than anyone in the UFC.  No one can beat me.  No one."
        The video concluded with Kylie doing seated concentration concentration curls, her gigantic bicep pumping into a boulder of muscle that looked to be over four inches in diameter, her gigantic breasts spilling out of her workout top in an avalanche of cleavage.  Allison stared breathlessly at the screen as Kylie's arm extended and contracted, her bicep curling into a massive ball of rock hard muscle again and again, sweat beading on her skin and shadows highlighting the deep cuts in her muscular body.  Allison paused the screen and stared at it ceaselessly until we landed in Tokyo.

[grbaclig]

Thanks for the kind words, everyone.  Both Lola, and a fight against multiple male opponents are in the near future.

[phil123]

What a great 3rd chapter.

And shure now we all want another chapter and read what happens with Kylie. And I hope Allison and Rick get more a couple again and he likes her growing.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Great to see you back writing, I love that Kylie continues to check off things that Rick told her she could never do, she couldn't win the Mr. Olympia contest, check, she couldn't win the World's Strongest Man contest, check, she couldn't beat a UFC champion, I'm 100% positive that's going to be a check. I want him to challenge her to beat a pro football team in a game next! k+!

[thebaron]

Great to hear more of your story.

[ame3cv62]

Omg,love this story

[caino]

YESSSSSSSSSS
so glad to read you again
K+