Go Back   Male vs Female | The Mixed Wrestling Forum > Mixed Wrestling & Fighting > Wrestling & Fighting Stories

Check out the latest release by Fight Pulse: Toughness Contest - Sasha vs Ali - between Akela's legs.
Preview photos are available in this topic. Get this video at: Fight Pulse - HH-14.

Thread Tools Display Modes
Old 07-Oct-12, 06:10
tracit tracit is offline
Junior Member
Points: 4,943, Level: 29 Points: 4,943, Level: 29 Points: 4,943, Level: 29
Activity: 0% Activity: 0% Activity: 0%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Sep 2012
Posts: 8
Thanks: 2
Thanked 10 Times in 4 Posts
Default Industrialflesh Stories

Anyone know where to find more of his stories? There used to be several on the armfan website.
Reply With Quote
Old 07-Oct-12, 12:45
Posts: n/a
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

You can use the link below to access the archived Armfan website. Select the stories option from the list in the upper left hand corner and you'll enter the library. There's a handful of IF's stories there.

[Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
Reply With Quote
The Following User Says Thank You to For This Useful Post:
Old 07-Oct-12, 18:21
tracit tracit is offline
Junior Member
Points: 4,943, Level: 29 Points: 4,943, Level: 29 Points: 4,943, Level: 29
Activity: 0% Activity: 0% Activity: 0%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Sep 2012
Posts: 8
Thanks: 2
Thanked 10 Times in 4 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

Thanks. But, I tried the link and I don't get any options on the right side.
Reply With Quote
Old 07-Oct-12, 18:50
Posts: n/a
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

Give it a few seconds to load - first you'll see a white screen saying the wayback machine is loading, then you'll be forwarded to the Armfan page, where list with the "stories" option is in the upper left of the screen, not the right.

If that doesn't work you may have a browser problem.
Reply With Quote
Old 08-Oct-12, 19:51
deepkick's Avatar
deepkick deepkick is offline
Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100
Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 5,086
Thanks: 17,426
Thanked 44,729 Times in 4,262 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

Originally Posted by tracit [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
Thanks. But, I tried the link and I don't get any options on the right side.
I can repost the Industrialflesh Stories from armfans site here:

Don't Leave" - Breaking up with a Girl Stronger than You new Nov. 8th, 2000

Breaking up with a Girl Stronger than You
By IndustrialFlesh

"Even if we get into a really bad fight, promise me you'll never walk out on me. You'll never leave. You'll always stay and work it out with me..." she pleaded almost in tears. Katrina was always making annoying, requests like that. They were not so much requests as demands, Tom thought to himself. But he nodded in agreement just the same and stayed with her to work out the problem, rather than bolting which was his first instinct.
That was months ago and Katrina was at it once again. A ridiculous misunderstanding had escalated into a destructive war of words. A casual comment had turned into the ultimate insult and as Tom tried to put the fire out, he found that he only inflamed it. Katrina was playing the victim to the hilt and from this position had sneakily gone on the attack as she always did. Tom was amazed by how adroitly she was able to maneuver herself into the role of avenging her own insecurities. She thought she was perfect and anyone who said anything to the contrary was going to be torched by her subtle, clever little barbs. Tom usually tried to play dumb when she jabbed like this, but he was livid that she had ruined their perfect morning over this nonsense. It had happened too many times and he was fed up.
"I've had it!" he barked. "This is just wrong! Forget it! I'm out of here!" Tom began storming around her messy bedroom, gathering up his things. Katrina's sad, blue eyes stared at him with the hurt of a betrayed little girl. At 22 years old, her pink cheeks and blond, baby-faced, cuteness were matched only by her capacity to behave with the maturity of a 4 year old. Her only thought was that she was hurt and she could not see past this for the sake of logic, reason or peace. Yet she did could not bare to let him go, despite how unhappy she was with him.
She watched him for a few moments and then began pleading. "Don't go." Tom continued to pack up. "Don't go," she whined, more desperately now. The plea did not make much sense given the rest of her behavior, but then that was Katrina. "Tom..." she sniffled as her big, wet eyes longed for him to stop what he was doing. Tom paused and looked at her.
In her tight T-shirt and underpants, she looked like a shorter, stockier Barbie Doll. Physically, she was Tom's ideal strong girl. She was not athletic and didn't play any sports, but she was naturally muscular and a consistent workhorse in the gym. She did cardio and lifted weights, much more regularly than Tom did, even in his soccer days. Tom had encouraged her to lift heavier weights so he could see her full potential, but she had refused on the grounds that she did not want to get too bulky. However, she worked out with free weights, including squats and bulk came naturally to her. She was 4 inches shorter than his 5'9" inches but, she matched him pound for pound at a weight of 156.
As he made his way to the door, again she said, "Don't go..." and came toward him, her bare feet padding across the carpet. He backed away and she fell on her knees and wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down at her, suddenly thinking she was sort of pathetic. At the same time he noticed how her back and shoulders were busting out of her T-shirt, the material was stretched tightly over her mass. Katrina's upperbody was really quite thick, especially from this downward angle. She'd gotten broader and more solid up-top over the course of their relationship. In fact, sometimes when they hugged, she would tell him, "Hug tighter," and he would and she'd say, "Tighter," and he would. He'd be squeezing her as tight as he could with all his might, but it was never enough for her. He could feel how solid her back was. She felt pretty hulky in his arms and she could handle his strongest bear-hug like it was nothing. "Doesn't that hurt?" he'd ask and she'd say, "No..." quite sincerely.
Now she stood up and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso, holding him firmly in her arms. She squeezed him in a far stronger hug than he'd ever felt from her. As she did so, he felt his body lifted slightly, so his feet were almost off the floor. He wanted to tell her to stop, but instead he fell silent, totally stunned by her strength. He was going to great lengths to contain the gasps she was forcing from him with her hulky embrace. The self-pitying, immature girl was powerful.
She leaned her weight into him, bending him off-balance so he was almost falling. But she continued to hold him up and instead nudged him backwards with her thighs. Katrina's movements seemed gentle and effortless, but Tom felt his entire bodyweight dominated, forced backward by solid thighs that were easily 26 inches thick and bulging with quadricep muscle. Katrina's calves too were big, well-fed and very trained looking.
She smiled to herself as she felt her boyfriend become crushed in her arms. It was nothing for her to handle him like this. Although she mostly pretended that she did not notice, she was totally aware that she was stronger-looking than him. How could she not notice? There was such a large gap between them in terms of muscle size and conditioning. After all, she was the one who went to the gym every day, not him. She was the one who always got compliments for looking buff and built, not him.
"Katrina...I gotta...go..." he managed to blurt out with difficulty.
"Don't you like this? Isn't this what you want?" she asked in a threatening tone. "I thought you always wanted me to be strong with you." Tom gasped as she choked up on his thin torso, tightening her big arms around him. "You like that?" she asked. Tom's hands had moved from her strong back to her surprisingly big arms.
"My God..." he murmered.
"Yeah, they got big, huh?" she said, seriously.
"Okay, Katrina, uhhh..."
"Wait..." she cued, persing her little lips. Then, still restraining him in her crushing hug, she stepped beside him. She took another sturdy step and pulled him off his feet into the air. "Katrina...w-what?..." he starmmered. Katrina had been squatting with 155 pounds for months now and Tom's weight was nothing to her. Handling him like a ragdoll, she threw him on to the bed quite easily. "Whoa!" he bellowed, as he bounced on to the mattress helplessly.
He got his bearings and looked up at her. She eyed him mischeviously and stripped off her T-shirt. In just a sports bra, Tom could see how built her shoulders and biceps were. As she turned to chuck her shirt in the hamper, Tom witnessed her broad, thick-muscled back, hulking up from her tiny waist like fleshy armor.
Then she climbed on to the bed and grappled him with her thick arms and legs. In seconds, she was out-muscling him into submission so he could not escape. He wriggled, but he wasn't going anywhere.
Her muscular upper-body restrained him easily. Below it was only a few seconds before his knee was trapped between her fat thighs. She tensed her muscles and squooshed his kneecap around like it was soft rubber. "Ow...ow..." he murmered. "Y-you're hurting my knee...Kartina..."
She laughed a little and flashed a triumphant grin at him. "I told you not to leave, didn't I?"
"See what happens? It's not good for you is it?" She squooshed his knee some more.
"Ow...Katrina Stop!..."
"You see?" Her legs were so strong. He was absolutely frightened of what she could do to his poor knee cap if she continued to be this rough on it. "You see? I'll kick your ass." She released his puny leg from her thick trunks and let him go with her arms. Tom rolled out, his pride badly beaten.
Tom always knew she was strong. He just didn't realize what she could do if she really tried. He didn't stand a chance against her. That was a fact. So now it was her turn to dictate to him in the relationship and she knew it. If he didn't comply, he would be in big trouble because he couldn't handle her at all.
Reply With Quote
The Following 3 Users Say Thank You to deepkick For This Useful Post:
Old 08-Oct-12, 19:53
deepkick's Avatar
deepkick deepkick is offline
Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100
Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 5,086
Thanks: 17,426
Thanked 44,729 Times in 4,262 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

The Tennis Instructor vs. the Stripper
Sep. 7th, 2000

By IndustrialFlesh

Ever since he was 13, Bob had liked strong girls. His current girlfriend, Lauren, was a 24 year old tennis stud. She was very athletic and strong and fit. At 5'4" and 135 pounds she had a defined and toned body that turned Bob on a lot. When necessary, she used her sexual powers over him to get what she wanted. She knew she took advantage of him and so did Bob, but generally, they were a happy couple.
He was a teacher, spending his summer writing a novel. She was a free-lance architect and private tennis instuctor, working at a tennis camp for 8 weeks. They decided to have a small dinner party and invited Bob's best friend, Skip over and told him to bring a date. Skip was a bit of a chick-magnet and he usually went out with impressive women, Bob always thought. But none could compare to Lauren who was so sexy because she was so in shape, especially when she was clad in her little tennis outfit: the short, pleted, white skirt, the white socks and tennis shoes.
When Skip arrived, Bob couldn't stop staring at his date. "Bob, Lauren, this is Tammi." Oh my God, what a babe, Bob thought as he looked her over. Her foxy, blond hair was up in pig-tails and her adorable green eyes beamed at him like she had a secret to tell. This lush cutie had a killer bod, too: shapely and solid. She was not a small girl either at 5'7" and tipping the scales at 153 pounds. She wore a cleavage-revealing bikini-top and tight leather shorts that seemed to disappear between her powerful thighs.
Lauren was immediately on the defensive and very perturbed to sense that she was no longer the hottest female in the room. Who was this little hussie? she wanted to know. When they sat down to eat, Lauren began firing away with the questions. Tammi was 22. She was from Alabama and...
"What do you do for a living?"
She smiled politely as she answered, melting Bob into warm butter. "Oh, I'm a dancer."
"A dancer? You mean like ballet?"
"No. I dance in clubs. I'm a go-go dancer."
"You're a stripper?"
She closed her eyes, smiling, bashfully. "Well, yeah..." Bob thought she was so friendly and absolutely charming. Her little hoarse voice and 'Bama accent was as soothing as it was sexy. Skip kept nudging Bob under the table about what a dish Tammi was. He knew she was the finest thing Bob had ever seen in the flesh and what gorgeous flesh it was.
Pretty soon, Lauren was going for the jugular. "Do like being a stripper?"
"Sure. I like it. It's great."
Lauren's eyes stared with interest and skepticism. "What's great about it?"
"Well, I get to dance and talk to people and the money is great. I like the music they play in most of the places. And it keeps me in shape."
What nonsense. But this last point Lauren especially wanted to jump on. "Really? You feel it keeps you in shape?"
"Oh yeah! Dancing is so good for your body, you know?"
"Yeah right. Well, whatever. I just find that interesting because you know, I'm a tennis instructor. I jog and work out. I really keep fit you know?"
"Yeah, you look it," Tammi smiled her friendliest smile, trying to get along with her host.
"I mean, I find it hard to believe that you could be in really good shape, if all you do is dance. That's not a real workout."
Tammi nodded. "Oh, but it really is! It's everything. It's aerobic. It works your muscles really hard."
"Well, I'm a semi-pro tennis player and trust me, there's a difference between being a stripper and being a real athlete."
"No, I know, but dancing really is tough. People don't know."
"Okay, I'm going to have to stop you right there. You might be in slightly better shape than the average girl, but I don't think you would stand a chance against me at anything physical. Sorry."
"Well, I don't know. You mean like tennis?"
Lauren rolled her eyes. "No, not like tennis. Obviously I could whip you at tennis. I mean anything."
"Well, I think maybe I could. I wrestle my boyfriend sometimes and he thinks I'm strong."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Lauren quipped. "Fine you wanna wrestle?"
Hesitant, unsure and surprised by all this, Tammi agreed, "Okay." The men were in heaven. Bob and Skip were kicking each other under the table and exchanging triumphant looks. This was better than the playboy channel.
Lauren went into the bedroom to change out of her evening clothes and into something sporty. She came out in biker shorts and a tanktop. She looked rugged and strong. Tammi kicked off her platform sandals. Even her feet and painted toes were cute, Bob observed with longing. She had killer ankles and her calves were kind of powerful looking. Tammi's plump muscles were to die for. Even Lauren didn't have proportions like these.
Bob and Skip watched with excitement as the two young women began to wrestle. Tammi was slow and tentative where Lauren let her resentment fuel her attack. She was aggressive and confident as she ripped into the chunkier girl. She would show this sleaze what strength was. She took a quick lead in the battle, although right off the bat, as Tammi took hold of her wrists, she noticed that the stripper had a fiercely, strong grip.
A minute later, Tammi flipped the tennis pro over very forcefully. Lauren felt herself controlled by the larger girl in a way that made her uneasy. Annoyed had having to go on the defensive so soon, she struggled and squirmed to get out from under Tammi. The chunky stripper outweighed her by 18 pounds and easily kept Lauren on the ropes. Before she knew what was happening, Tammi wrapped her bulk around her and began to crush her like a ragdoll. Lauren was completely limp and helpless as Tammi rolled her over and squeezed her with her arms and legs. Lauren was choking in the stripper's brutal headlock and her torso was being rendered by the girl's trunk-like legs below.
Then Tammi really put some muscle into it and Lauren's face turned blue. She gagged and coughed as she writhed in pain and suffering. Tammi was physically dominating her and she was profoundly embarrassed. She wanted to stop this, but was powerless against Tammi's brute strength. With her fist, she pounded on Tammi's broad back finding it solid and invulnerable to pain.
Looking at both girls' physiques rolling around on the floor like this, the boys could easily see that compared to Lauren, Tammi was like a bodybuilder, a bulked up dancer. She had big, bulbous muscles and was much more powerful than a little tennis player like Lauren. Tammi was a hulk of a girl from her large biceps and shoulders to her tremendously stout leg muscles which made Lauren's look like twigs.
"Had enough of this?" Tammi asked crushing her prey some more and listening to Lauren's groans of agony. "Do ya give?" She was as cheerful and perky as ever. Lauren answered with a series of embarrassing grunts and moans. "Give?" Tammi asked again
"I...give!..." Lauren choked out. Tammi let go of Lauren, who rolled out of her pythonic grasp with desperation and relief. She was panting out of breath.
"I told you I'm pretty tough," Tammi said with a sweet smile. People don't know how strong strippers are. Some of us are very strong."
Reply With Quote
The Following 4 Users Say Thank You to deepkick For This Useful Post:
Old 08-Oct-12, 19:54
deepkick's Avatar
deepkick deepkick is offline
Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100
Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 5,086
Thanks: 17,426
Thanked 44,729 Times in 4,262 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

The Trainee
A young girl trains with weights and gets very strong
new Aug. 2nd, 2000

By IndustrialFlesh

Frank Levine was the Girls Track & Field coach at Van Mount High. Van Mount had not had a winning team in many years and the school was getting damn sick of it. Three years ago, the track program had all but become a joke and the Athletic Director called Frank on the carpet and said win or else. He was given 3 years to turn the program around and he set to identifying and rectifying the problem. As he saw it, there were plenty of fast girls in the school. Van Mount always placed in the running events, it just had piss-poor showings in the other events, the strength-oriented stuff. Frank had resolved to do something about it.
One day he was sitting on his back porch drinking some lemonade when he spotted Judy next door. She was doing cartwheels and hand-stands and though she was only 11, she was a very athletic little girl. In bare feet, jean shorts and a T-shirt, she looked very physical. This was not some soft, little fragile girl, Frank observed.
The following week Frank spotted her, this time dressed up going to a family outing. The young girl's legs looked stout in her little sundress. She still looked like a very hardy girl, someone with a lot of physical potential. Here was a girl Frank could train, he thought to himself, a girl he had found young enough to really work with and bring up to speed so when she got to high school she could wreak havok.
Frank decided to check it out. He went next door one day and met with Judy and her parents. He explained his situation and explained how he thought Judy could help him. He told her parents he saw a lot of athletic ability in their daughter and the parents admitted that yes, Judy seemed to be a little firebrand who had excelled in dancing when they'd found the money to send her. Frank offered to train her and promised athletic scholarships if Judy followed through with her training. Everyone agreed it sounded like a marvelous idea. Frank's eyes grew wide as he thought about his project.
First Frank tested the young girl's physical fitness. It turned out she could do 40 squat-thrusts in 1 minute. Frank took this number home and tried to test on himself. Being a young man of only 26, Frank was still in reasonably good shape and he knew the number he could achieve would be a good measuring stick for the young girl. Frank tried his best in the 1 minute. He managed 36 squat-thrusts. The young girl's legs were superior to his.
From there, Frank began to work her very hard. He had her working out every day. Running, jumping, jogging, hills, calestentics and lots and lots of lifting in the weight room. He adjusted her diet so she was taking in more protein than anything else. He was training her mostly for the shotput, the discuss and the long jump and he could tell she was going to be good. Frank knew he was building a bomb, a little atomic girl who just might be able to blow away the competition.
By 9th grade, Judy was very built. She was a short, stocky girl with legs from hell and a killer butt. Her arms were thick too. She was 5'1" 140 pounds, all solid. She benched 205 pounds. She squatted 315. She got too strong for her tennis player boyfriend, who upon feeling the steel muscle in her legs became too emasculated to go out with her anymore. Her older brother tried to wrestle her and became very scared as she pinned him forcefully and wouldn't let him up.
When a member of the wrestling team challenged the mighty girl-dynamo, he got more than he bargained for. He got down on the mat with her, wearing his wrestling suit. She was all spandex-clad from the waist down and a middriff showed off her nice flat stomach. His name was Mike and he was pretty confident about being able to handle a girl, even a kind of jocky girl like Judy. But when he felt her hindquarters like concrete, a look of fear came over his face. Though he outweighed her by 10 pounds, he found himself a mere weakling against the 9th grader. The granite girl crushed him and pinned him with embarrassing ease in front of his friends. The next victim was a football player who Judy squeezed with her muscular legs until he couldn't breathe and was crying for her to let him go.
Marky Wayneright, a senior and captain of the football team, heard about this incident and it pissed him off. He told her privately to meet him behind the school. He showed up in his practice jersey with an ugly sneer on his face. He had every intention of bitch slapping her and making her eat it good. That was his plan.
Judy showed up in a tight white T with very short sleeves and a ruffled mini-skirt. Man, this young girl looked sexy, Marky thought. He right away threatened her, saying, "You shouldn't have messed with one of my teammates, Bitch!" But when Marky tried to get rough with her, he found a surprise. Marky grabbed her wrists and tried to back her into the wall, but Judy resisted hard and wouldn't budge. As they struggled, Marky was stunned to see the girl's young biceps bulge from under her little sleeves. "Holy!" he exclaimed eyeing her muscles in awe. "You like a girl with muscles?" she asked slyly flexing her right bicep fully for him. He felt the swell of her pumped muscle and his mouth fell open and his dick got hard. She made it jump under his hand, forcing his fingers open, powerfully. "Man..." he sighed. And as he looked her up and down up-close, he saw just how built the girl was. This young 14 year old was so well built, from her big, powerful legs to her muscular arms. Marky thought himself a badass, but he was just a quarterback on the team and he didn't lift weights or anything. This muscular young girl obviously did. Her shapely muscles could only be from a large dose of weights. Mark knew that unfortunately. This girl looked like a runningback or something.
Then the stocky girl wrapped her thick arms around the older boy's waist and lifted him off the ground. "Oh...my..." he moaned, totally elated to be lifted like this by the cute younger girl. "I didn't know you liked a strong girl, Mark," she teased, feeling his erection up against her. "Whew, you're pretty light," she remarked, hoisting him up higher, letting him know what she could do to a skinny boy. "You know, you shouldn't call girls names like that. Especially not a strong girl like me." Then she dropped him and put him in a headlock. She began to crush his neck as hard as she could. "Oh...oh..." he moaned as she began to hurt him. "Come on, Mark...don't be a wimp..." But she was hurting him more and more and as she began to walk around the lot with him, he had no choice but to walk with her. "Oh...oh, please let go..." he whimpered. She was too strong for him and she knew it. She giggled with delight at her power over the older boy. She felt very strong as she watched the tears come to his eyes.
"Let this be a lesson to you. Skinny boys shouldn't mess with strong girls."
Reply With Quote
The Following 2 Users Say Thank You to deepkick For This Useful Post:
Old 08-Oct-12, 19:55
deepkick's Avatar
deepkick deepkick is offline
Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100
Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 5,086
Thanks: 17,426
Thanked 44,729 Times in 4,262 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

new Aug. 2nd, 2000

By IndustrialFlesh

Jack was sick of all the attention his little sister had been receiving lately. She'd won the regional figure skating competition 2 days ago and the whole family was fawning over her. But Jack was the older brother and he'd just won the social studies fair a week ago. No one made as big a deal about that.
"That's because it wasn't on TV," his little sister snapped happily. Noelle was always saying things like that. Jack thought she was such a little brat. Just because she a figure skater and she was cute did not give her the right to have all the attention and shove it in his face. That was the problem of course. Noelle was not just an athlete. She was adorable. In 9th grade she was 5'2" with a shapely little figure and a face like an angel. Pretty blue eyes and lovely, honey-brown hair that she wore in a pony-tail, always tied up with ribbons. Jack was in 11th and he simply wasn't all that physically appealing. He was a more cerebral person and he resented the superficial values he was encountering.
He was pissed when his parents asked him to pick up Noelle at the rink after practice. He found her still gliding on the ice when he got there. She was wearing a green mini-skirt and nude stockings and a tight black elastic top that showed off her young womanhood nicely. Her wavy pony-tail trickled down the back of her round head. She looked beautiful. Jack despised her.
She stepped off the ice and sat down on the bench beside him. She undid her laces and pulled her stocking feet out of her white skates. Jack watched as she massaged her aching feet. They were nimble little feet, he thought to himself. "So listen. I really gotta go. I'm picking up Rachel in an hour and I still have to get ready. So can we hit it?"
"I just have to make a phone call first."
"Well, who do you have to call."
"Because I just found out Bobby likes me and I have to tell her about it."
"No, Noelle. See, I really have to get home. Call her and tell her when we get home."
Noelle slid her little stocking feet into her sneakers and tied them up. "I'll just be a second."
"Noelle, I've seen you talk on the phone with Tricia. You never just take a minute. Wait till we get home."
"No. I'm calling her now. From here." With that she got up and padded toward the payphone in the lobby 20 feet away.
"Noelle, I'm telling you, 'no.'"
"I don't care. You're not the boss of me.
Jack chased after her, his car keys jingling in his pocket. "Noelle, don't be a little spoiled brat, okay? I gotta go. There's other things in the world that are important besides you!"
"Ooookaaaaay..." she said in that juvenile teenage way that was reserved for 9th graders.
Jack rushed up close to her as she put change in the payphone. It was time to make a stand, he decided. "I'm warning you, Noelle. You're not gonna make that call. I guarantee it."
"Yeah, right..." she oozed, dialing. Then Jack grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her away from the phone. The receiver swung down and hit the medal plate below the phone.
"What the hell are you doing?!" she shrieked in outrage.
"I'm taking you home!" he roared back, walking and pulling her as he walked.
"I'm not leaving!" she yelled, planting her legs firmly and stopping his forward motion. Jack looked back a little surprised that they had stopped. He tugged on her, but she seemed really well-dug in. He figured her sneakers must have had really excellent traction underneath or something. Deep down, Jack knew that was a ridiculous explanation. Noelle could see the unease on his face. She smelled blood. "You can't move me," she snapped happily.
"I can...I can...move you..."
"Go ahead," the cute 9th grader spat, readying her legs for his effort.
"I can...****ing move you..." he groaned as he pulled on his little sister. But Noelle did not budge. She stood her ground, proudly. Her little angelic face beaming at him. "Noelle, I don't have time to fuck around! Let's go!"
"I thought you said you could move me."
"Look, just cut the crap and let's go."
"No, I don't have to listen to you, you big stupid dickhead. Since I'm the one who's stronger."
Jack's heart skipped a beat, his adrenoline pumping as Noelle's words sliced through him. "Look, Noelle, you're not stronger, okay? You're just..." Jack searched quickly for an explanation, "...shorter...You know, you have a low center of gravity...good balance..."
"Better balance than you anyway..."
"Noelle...fine...whatever...but you're not stronger."
"I am too stronger. I am too. Why shouldn't I be? I'm a figure skater. I train every day. I'm in much better shape than you. You're a flabby boy!" Jack was enraged by this. His face turned red and he wanted to hit her, right in her cheeky face.
"Just because you skate, does not make you stronger than me, Noelle. I'm a guy and I'm older than you and bigger than you."
"So? You're not that big. You're taller but you're pretty skinny to me." This cut to the bone. Jack knew he was thin and he'd always been sensitive about it. At 5'7" and 132 pounds he was not exactly physically imposing. But he would be damned if he was going to let the little brat insult him like this.
"You keep talking like that and I'm going to kick your pretty little ass, okay Noelle?"
"Ooh! Big man!" she mocked. "I bet I could beat you at arm wrestling. I bet I could. I bet your arm is really weak!"
Jack was not going to take this. "Fine. Let's go. You wanna armwrestle? Let's armwrestle, you little fucking brat!" Noelle grinned at him. She loved having pushed his buttons so well. She was proud of herself. Her brother was such a big, stupid, doofball. Jack walked over to one of the plastic booths by the snackery. He plopped down on the bench and put his elbow up on the orange table. Noelle was right behind him. She slid into the booth beside him.
He looked down at her fat thighs, her muscular proportions very well-bared in the nude stockings. Like a typical ice skater, Noelle's thighs were overly plump. Her short skirt hid not an inch of her powerful thigh muscles, which were easily 25 inches thick. Her thighs were a good deal fatter than her brother's. Jack did not begin to fill up his own baggy pant legs. Noelle's meaty legs would have burst the seams of the same pants. She was much more muscular. She had bigger calves too and she loved kicking them around in his face. She slammed into him, letting him feel her rambunctious weight.
"Why are you on this side? Don't you know you have sit across for us to arm-wrestle, you bonehead?"
"Yeah, I know," she sang. "I just thought we should compare muscles first." She rolled up her elastic sleeve and made a muscle. "Look at my muscle, Jack." Jack looked at his sister's arm and gulped. Noelle had a hard bicep muscle that easily put his to shame. Her arm was big for a girl and it bulged like someone who lifted weights. "Feel it. Go ahead. Bet you can't squoosh it." Jack placed his thumb and forefingers around her stout bicep. He squeezed strenuously, but her muscle would not give.
"Now you," she urged joyously. Jack rolled up his sleeve and bared his scrawny arm. He flexed it as hard as he could. Noelle's little hand squooshed it down with ease. She giggled as she did so. "Your arm is soft," she impressed upon him in a quiet tone. Jack had had it with her crap.
"Are we going to arm wrestle or what?"
"Sure!" she beamed, swinging her big legs out of the seat and clomping her sneakers on the floor. She sprung over to the other side of the table. Grabbing the back of the seat and the table, she propped herself up off the ground on her arms and then swung herself into the seat there.
Noelle had been doing dumbbell curls for years and she had strong arms. She didn't sweat her skinny older brother at all. They grabbed hands and Jack immediately felt his sister's vice-like grip on his hand. He was not encouraged by the way she was squooshing his hand and grinning into his face. "You say, go," she bubbled.
"No, you say, go," he growled, angered by the way she seemed to be condescending to him.
"Okay...Go!" Jack buckled down and went for it right away. He went all out, pushing as hard as he could. Noelle, grit her teeth and pushed right back with what felt like about an equal amount of strength. Jack pushed and pushed. He was going to shut the cute little brat up once and for all. This was it. He pushed and pushed and pushed, but he was not budging his sister's strong arm. And then he began to get tired and more tired. His arm was not used to this kind of rigorous exertion, or any exertion for that matter.
Not like his sister, who's weight-trained arms had strength and endurance to last her a long while. In less than a minute, Jack was straining to hold his sister's arm at bay. But Noelle did not seem tired at all. On the contrary, she was smiling, very relaxed. "Getting tired, huh?" she asked. "I'm not!" Then she grit her teeth and began to push harder than she had yet. And Jack's arm began to bend.
"Ahh..." he whined. Noelle forced her brother's weak arm down in short increments. He kept fighting her and then giving ground and then holding her steady for a moment and then losing more ground. Her strong arm simply would not stop pushing. Finally, Noelle pressed his wrist all the way to the table, his arm numb with exhaustion. She gave him a quick, forceful squeeze in her steel grip that made him shout, "Ah! Stop!"
Noelle giggled at her brother's wimpiness. "I told you I'm stronger than you...You know, you're really weak for a boy." Jack had had enough. That was the last straw. Anger took over his actions. "I'll show you weak," he muttered under his breath. And as Noelle stood up from the table, Jack rushed over to her. Before she knew what he was doing, he wound up and punched her square in the stomach.
Noelle's face looked scared by his sudden attack. Jack's fist connected solidly with a loud "THUD!", but he quickly cried out as a terrible pain shot through his fist and up his arm. Noelle persed her lips together, angered by her brother's sneaky ambush, but she was unharmed. Jack's eyes watered up as he grabbed his hurt hand in agony.
Thousands of crunches had hardened Noelle's tummy. She'd done hanging leg raises, sit-ups with a weight on her chest, everything and she'd strengthened her abdominal muscles to rock-hardness. Jack had punched an impenetrable wall of muscle, an invulnerable six-pack that was chiseled proof of the rigorous conditioning regimen, Noelle had been on since she was 6 years old.
"You really think you're so strong with a punch like that? You're pretty wimpy, Jack." Now Jack's ego was stinging as much as his hand. He refused to admit defeat. Instead, he lunged at the cute little figure skater with the strong stomach and tackled her on to the rubber floor of the rink.
To Be Continued
Reply With Quote
The Following 2 Users Say Thank You to deepkick For This Useful Post:
Old 08-Oct-12, 19:57
deepkick's Avatar
deepkick deepkick is offline
Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100
Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 5,086
Thanks: 17,426
Thanked 44,729 Times in 4,262 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

Eva built up her muscles more than Paul
Aug. 2nd, 2000

By IndustrialFlesh

Eva spelled her name Ewa, but it's actually pronounced Ava. She was Polish as in, born in Poland. She'd only been in the United States for 2 years, but her English was very good. Considering the short time she'd been here, her near-mastery of the language was nothing short of remarkable. Eva Oliarczyk was apparently very smart. Well, I also knew she was because she was taking classes at Baruch College, getting a BBA in Finance and Investing.
I met her on the subway, the number 6. It was one of those impetuous things. Only a few days earlier, my best friend and I had been talking about how sometimes we see women in the city that are just so gorgeous and sexy that we feel like walking right up to them and asking them out. Well, when I saw this beautiful little woman on the train, something just came over me. You had to see her. I could tell this was the worst she ever looked and that was pretty damn good.
Her straw-colored hair came down to her full jaw. It was a very cute cut, but it was a little mussed, as if she'd been doing some kind of physical work. She had large, blue-gray eyes and persed lips and wore a pleasant, almost friendly expression on her face.
What attracted me though was the rest of her. Clad in a cute, little skirt, she was short and compactly-built with very powerful-looking legs. They were big and solid-looking. However, their formidable size made me wonder if she wasn't just a little chunky. Her legs were bare and she wore flip-flops which showed off her fat feet and fat toes which she'd just had painted as evidenced by the cotton still between them. Then she lifted one leg and pulled the cotton out. As she did so, I observed her under-thigh which became very tight and defined. That told me that this girl's legs were not fat at all. They were muscle. I sighed in awe.
She was definitely worth making a fool of myself for so I went for it. I asked her for her name and her phone number. She laughed and gave them both to me. We hit it off from the first phone call and started going out. I quickly learned that Eva was not only very attractive, but incredibly charming. She had a wonderful sense of humor, she was sweet and like I've already said, very smart too. I really liked her.
I soon learned that she used to dance and was an ex-gymnast. Now she went to the gym quite often and had a personal trainer who pushed her really hard there. She did everything. She jogged, did ballet and lifted weights. Of course, I was very interested in all this. I asked her about what she did. She had more endurance than me. When she ran, she did 3 miles. When she lifted she did every bodypart: curls, flys, tris. What got me was hearing about the leg stuff. She told me she did squats and her trainer made her squat with very heavy weight.
One time, she told me, "My trainer made me do curls with 20 pounds. It almost keeled meee!" I laughed, but I was impressed. Another time she told me, "I do leg presses with 120 pounds. I could do more, but I don't want my legs to get too big." When I tried to clarify which exercise was the leg press, she corrected me, "No, not leg extensions. Leg presses. For extensions I usually do around 50 pounds." That was pretty impressive for a girl also.
The results of all this were visible...and tangible. I was struck by how broad her back was. It was thick and hard with muscle. Her back always filled up whatever top she wore, whether it was a T-shirt or a button-down blouse. When we were in a deli once, I gave her a hug and I was struck by how tough her back felt. My God, I thought, her back was harder than mine. I'm not exaggerating. All day, I kept feeling it and each time I was amazed. I asked her what she did for her back and she just sort of shrugged. "Oh, Paul, what are yoo sayeeng?" she cooed adorably. Turned out she did dips. That might have explained it.
Eva just had a totally amazing body. She was 5'1" and must have weighed around 115 pounds, but what pounds they were. This cute, little Polish girl had a back hard as rock. Her thighs were cut on the sides, like granite. Little muscles bulged in the outer-fronts of her thighs too. When she wore shorts, her thigh muscles pumped impressively as she walked. Those thighs were hard. I know because I felt them. It was all muscle. The tendons under her knees were tight. Her calves were nice and meaty too. Eva even had muscles in her arms. Sometimes when she moved her arms a certain way, I could see them. Once when we were swimming in the pool, I saw her bicep bulge as she grabbed the ladder. Later, I asked her to make a muscle for me. She resisted, but finally reluctantly gave in. She showed me a very hard bicep.
One time I asked her to flex her quadriceps for me. As she did, I could see the bulge of muscle over her knee stiffen. I felt it. It was so hard. I sure didn't have legs like hers. I was softer. This girl was hard. She was more muscular. Really. She was a good 8 inches shorter than me but her legs were as big as mine and much more built. She'd built her muscles much more than me. All that running and dancing and squatting. Her legs were obviously stronger than mine. "Wow..." I gasped. "Paul, those are my muscles..." she squeaked. And then she seemed embarrassed at how impressed I was. When I continued to feel them, she made them less hard. "Come on," I urged, "Don't do that! Make them as hard as you can." She just grinned and strolled away to the bathroom.
The other day we went into the Polish area of Brooklyn, Green Point so Eva could mail a package to her sister in Poland. As she stood there at the window of a shipping agency I admired her. She looked gorgeous. She wore a white button-down shirt and green, extra-short, shorts, little, ankle-high socks and black reebok sneakers. As I stared at her from behind, I actually saw her like I'd never seen her before. Sure, I'd always thought she was in great shape and I'd been impressed with her, but for some reason, at that moment I really saw her for what she was.
This little, 5'1" Polish girl with a face like an angel had an absolutely killer bod. She looked like a girl of iron, with a physique that competely put mine to shame. Her extremely wide back was wider than her hips and hulky. She had a great ass, rounded and hard from squats. Her legs were brawny and chiseled. They seemed to pop with hardness. Rigid, steel thighs. Robust, sinewy calves. She looked like a rock-climber or something. She looked like she could run a marathon, like she could run circles around me and the truth was that she could. She was physically superior to me.
When I asked her to wrestle, she was very timid about it. I kept pressing and pressing, begging and finally the little strong girl agreed...much to my detriment. The little Polish girl with the hard muscles was so strong...too strong. It was like wrestling a little bundle of iron. She was able to pick me up and throw me, control me, squeeze me very hard until it began to hurt. That well-built, well-trained body humiliated me. "Oh! Oh! Ahhhh!" I screamed as her headlock got too tight. "Paul, whad do yoo wan me to doo?" she asked, amused. "You see? I ahm strong." When her powerful legs bent my legs into paralysis, I yelped in pain again. "Paul, I theenk I am too strong for yoo." God, was she ever. Eva was simply physically superior to me. From that day on I knew I was the weaker one in the relationship.
Reply With Quote
The Following User Says Thank You to deepkick For This Useful Post:
Old 08-Oct-12, 19:58
deepkick's Avatar
deepkick deepkick is offline
Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100 Points: 444,174, Level: 100
Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7% Activity: 16.7%
Last Achievements
Join Date: Aug 2011
Gender: Male
Posts: 5,086
Thanks: 17,426
Thanked 44,729 Times in 4,262 Posts
Default Re: Industrialflesh Stories

My Little Sister Gets Stronger than Me
Aug. 2nd, 2000

By IndustrialFlesh

"Now do you get it?"
"Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Paul."
"No problem." I didn't mind helping Claudia with her math homework when she needed it. She was a good kid. We got along. Besides, I'd learned all that stuff already. She was in 8th grade and I was in 12th. Sometimes we teased each other, but it was all pretty friendly. Mom and Dad were away for the week and we were taking care of each other. It was kind of fun.
"Okay, Kiddo," I said, patting her shoulder and standing up to leave the room. But as I patted her arm, I noticed that it felt kind of solid. "Hey..." I said, in wonder. She looked up at me. "Your arm is..."
"Oh, I've been lifting weights."
This was a kick in the head. "Really?"
"Oh. Where, at school? Or..."
"No, Cory and I have been using your weight set in the basement. Is that okay?"
"Uh...yeah. Sure. It's fine. You and Cory, huh? Um, why-why are you lifting weights?"
"We want to get muscles."
"Oh. Well...I guess, that's the way to get 'em."
"You sure it's okay? I mean, if you don't want me using your weights..."
"No, no, it's fine. It's great."
She smiled at me. "Oh, good."
"So, you want muscles, huh?" I asked, trying to get used to the idea, trying to swallow the concept.
She spoke excitedly now. "Yeah, we've been training for a couple of months now and I think it's working. Wanna see my muscles?"
Claudia rolled her sleeves up to her shoulders and flexed her biceps. I was shocked as I watched them harden into two little bulges. What muscles she had. They were only slightly smaller than mine and very round. I'd never seen a young girl with muscles like this. And I couldn't believe that my little sister had them. "Wow. Those are strong looking muscles, Claudia."
"They are strong," she said, proudly, flexing them harder, making them jump a little for me.
"Boy, you must be working hard."
"I am. You wanna feel it? It's hard."
"No, that's alright. I gotta book. I'm meeting Tom and some other guys."
"Okay, Mike. I have to go downstairs and lift weights anyway."
"Yeah, well, feel free and let me know if you need any help. But don't work out too much, Claudia. I'd hate to think what you would do if you ever got stronger than me," I laughed.
She looked at me and giggled, "Who knows, Mike, maybe I am already." I laughed and walked out of the room. Claudia was such a kidder. Still, her muscles really were quite impressive. For an instant I imagined her suggestion being real. My little sister being stronger - now there was something I could never live down.

The next day, Claudia and I cooked dinner together. We were talking about stuff, about school, in particular and I kept looking at her. I kept looking at her body. She was wearing a T-shirt and loose sweatpants. She looked pretty normal to me, despite the fact that I knew she had those biceps hidden in her sleeves. I'd stopped listening when Claudia said, "You know, we were arm-wrestling in school today. Cory and I beat all the boys."
"Really?" I asked, trying to sound interested, without being threatened. "I'll bet they didn't like that." I remembered what that was like - the fear of a girl being stronger. It was the worst thing in the world.
"Yeah. They didn't. They were embarrassed that we were so strong."
"I'll bet," I said, encouragingly. "Who's gonna do the dishes?"
"I have an idea, Mike. Why don't we arm-wrestle and whoever loses has to do the dishes."
I looked at her, bewildered at the suggestion. "Are you kidding, Claudia? You're only 14. I'm 18 and a guy and I'm a lot bigger than you. That doesn't seem like a very fair bet. I'll beat you easily."
She put her hands on her hips and said, "Well, I don't know about that. I can handle all the weight in your weight set and I feel pretty strong, strong enough to give you a good challenge, maybe even beat you."
I was taken aback by this. "Uhh...well...okay, if you feel that confident and you really want to do this, we can arm-wrestle for dishwork."
We walked over to the round table in the kitchen and sat down. "Are you really so interested in getting out of doing the dishes?"
"Well, no. That's not really it. I just want to see if I'm strong enough to take you." She couldn't hold back a big, embarrassed smile spreading across her face. She looked really cute. I was always proud of the fact that she was such a cute girl.
"Well, then let's see you take me," I said, playfully. We placed our elbows on the the table and grabbed hands.
"Okay, Mike. Are you ready to lose?"
"I hope you are, Kiddo."
"Count 3 and then go," she commanded.
"Alright. 1-2-3-Go!" Claudia immediately tightened her grip on my hand and I have to admit that she was stronger than I thought. I held my hand steady, straight up because I didn't want to make her feel bad by beating her right away. Then I began to slowly increase the pressure. To my surprise, my added force wasn't moving her hand back at all. We were still holding firm and in the start position. Then I started to pour on a bit more force and her arm began to give a little, but not as much as I thought it would. I looked at her face and she was straining with everything she had. Our hands began to tremble from the exertion, but I continued to press on and she continued to lose ground. I looked down at her bicep and it was really pumped from the strain. It looked almost as big as mine.
Gradually and with much effort, I pushed her hand down further until it was only an inch from the table. Still, she was hanging on, gritting her teeth and holding my arm up. I pushed down on it harder and harder, but she continued to hold me up. Jesus! I couldn't believe she was this strong! I was straining with all my might, but her arm would not go down. Her arm held for about 30 seconds like this and then, finally, her hand touched the table.
"Ugh!" she grunted as she was defeated. I looked down at her very pumped arm and then into her eyes. She shook out her arm and looked up at me with a strange expression on her face. She was disappointed, obviously, but she also looked kind of proud, I guess because she recognized how tough it was for me to beat her. The same thing was registering in my mind. I had beaten her only with great difficulty and it was very disconcerting. Still, as disturbed as I was, all I could do was feign coolness and act like I was respectfully impressed.
"Wow," I said. "You're really strong, Claudia." She still didn't say anything for a moment, like she was still pondering. I could see it on her face, the realization that I'd barely beaten her and that it had taken everything I had and then some.
Then she smiled. "But I'm still not as strong as my big brother."
"Yeah, well, just barely...Man...I can see why you beat all the boys in your grade..."
"Cory did too."
"If she's working out with you, I can believe it...strong..." Claudia grinned at this. She really seemed to enjoy this attention from me and as I was massaging my arm which flopped with exhaustion, Claudia raised her right arm, the arm I'd just beaten and made a muscle for me. A peaked ball of steel rose from her arm and stood proudly before me.
"Big, huh?" she said, proudly.
"Oh, yeah." What else could I say? "I'm gonna have to start working out, myself, just to stay ahead of you."
"I think you might have to, Mike," she said flexing both biceps now, "because Cory and I are getting bigger and stronger every day and we're gonna keep working out. Now that I know we are so closely matched, I have a goal to work for. I want to beat you at arm-wrestling."
I smiled weakly at this. "Well, I'm pretty scared there, Kiddo, but I'm not gonna make it easy on you. I'm still the older brother in this house. Now go clean the dishes, a bet's a bet."
"Yes, Sir," she said, standing at attention and saluting me. Her right bicep grew big as she saluted. I just stared at it and swallowed. Claudia began to do the chore.

A few weeks went by and I witnessed Cory coming over and joining Claudia in the basement after school. I could here the barbells clanging, the plates slapping together and then sliding apart and I could hear the girls coaching each other on, their girlish voices shrieking encouragement and then giggling when the set was over. "Whew, you're getting big, Claudia..."
"That's right..." It went on for hours. I told myself I was gonna get back on a weight-training regimen...tomorrow, but tomorrow never seemed to come for me. Well, whatever, it wasn't like I wasn't in good shape or anything. After all, I had a girlfriend, currently and I was getting popular enough in school. I had a pretty good body, so what was the big deal?
One day, Claudia came up to me with a tape measure in her hand and said, "Hey, Mike let's measure bicep muscles." Cory was with her, grinning.
"Umm...okay." I made a muscle for her and she wrapped the tape around my arm carefully.
"Hmm...12 inches," she informed me. I nodded
"And what are you?"
She put the tape up to her own arm and Cory helped wrap it around her own mighty muscle.
Cory read the measurement. "She's 11 inches."
"See that? You've only got an inch on me, Mike," Claudia exclaimed.
"Yup," I said, matter-of-factly.

Months passed and every now and then, Claudia would see me and say, "I'm getting bigger, Mike..." in this teasingly, warning tone.
"I know," I'd sing back, nonchallantly.
"I'm getting stronger, Mike..."
"I'm sure you are." Sometimes she'd just flex her arms at me with a knowing smile. I acted cool about it, but all her taunting and flexing was getting to me. I eventually did hit the weights. I lifted a few times here and there. I probably worked out about 5 times over the next 4 months.

Our parents were away again and Claudia and I were splitting the house chores. One day after school, Claudia came up to me Cory right behind her and said, "Mike, you wanna arm-wrestle?"
"Why?" I asked innocently.
"Let's bet again. The winner has to do all the house chores for the rest of the week."
"Sounds like a tough bet," I said.
"It is," she smiled.
"So you really think you can take me, now, huh?"
"Well, I don't know, but I'd like to give it a try."
"You would, huh?"
"Yup and I hope you've been working out because I haven't gotten any weaker."
"Mm-hmm..." I oozed as amusedly as possible. "Listen to you..." Claudia and Cory both giggled, hysterically. "You really think you're all that, huh?..." Claudia was grinning, bashfully. "Well, alright. Let's go..." I sat down at the kitchen table and put my elbow up. Claudia, unzipped her warm-up suit and slung it down on the floor. She was wearing a white tanktop, tight on her, and her upperbody looked razor-sharp. Claudia had defined shoulders and steel biceps and the firmest chest I'd ever seen. She turned around to whisper something in Cory's ear and I took in her broad, well-muscled back. She looked like a wrestler or something.
"Claudia wants to know if you want to measure muscles first," Cory said.
"Sure. Why not?"
Cory put the tape measure up to my curled arm, which still stood at 12 inches. Then Claudia pumped one of her guns and my mouth went dry. It wasn't so much the size, which now measured 12 inches, the same as mine, it was bulbous shape and the hardness. Claudia had a pumped ball of muscle on her arm. She made it pop up a few times in front of me. She grinned as she saw my eyes grow wide.
"I told you my muscles were getting bigger," she said. Then she sat down at the table and we got down to business. I could see that my sister had been hitting the weights even harder than I thought, but I was still the guy sitting at this table and I didn't scare easy. I knew Claudia was tough, but I'd beaten her before and I'd beat her again. That was my mentality. We agreed that Cory would count off and then we grabbed hands.
Just as Cory said 3, Claudia tightened her grip on my hand to the point where it almost hurt. As we pushed, I looked at her arm and her muscles were tensed. We each held our ground for about 2 minutes when Claudia began to take a slight advantage over me. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was actually losing to my little sister who was 4 years younger than me. I pressed harder, trying to put my shoulder into it, but she continued to slowly push my hand toward the table as the look of confidence on her face grew more pronounced. Then I gave it everything I had and I managed to push her back to the upright position. I started to take her arm down slightly. We had been going for about 4 minutes now and my arm was starting to burn and I could see by the look on Claudia's face that she was feeling the same. Her face was contorted and she was beginning to grunt from the exertion. Just when I thought I was going to take her hand all the way down, she let out a loud, "Ugh!" and brought our hand back to the starting position. I could feel her moving my arm back up like she moved those weights downstairs, but I didn't give up. I stopped her at the top again and held there. Our arms remained locked for another minute as we fought off fatigue. Then Claudia mustered up another surge of strength that I couldn't fight. She seemed to put her shoulder into it and started to push my hand down toward the table. There was no way I was going to let this happen, so I used every ounce of strength I had left and was able to stop my hand from getting any closer to the table...but not for long. Claudia's swollen bicep muscle continued to push relentlessly and my arm began to get weaker and weaker against it, until she started my hand moving down again. As her forceful arm pushed mine down, her punishing grip began to hurt my hand. She bent my arm down to the table as if I'd never resisted at all. My arm looked like a limp noodle at the mercy of her steel-muscled arm.
"Oh my God," I murmered as my hand was crushed to the table.
"Ha! I did it! I beat you!"
"Ow," I moaned, yanking my weak arm from her brutal grasp. I grabbed at my sore, defeated limb in shame. "Oh...God...I don't believe it."
"I actually did it. I didn't think that I could, but I did it. My muscles are so strong and big! I can beat my older brother at arm-wrestling! These muscles are something, huh, Mike?" She flexed the arm that she had just beaten me with. I just gawked at my sister's mighty bicep that had humiliated me.
"Y-yeah," I said, feeling very dejected and inadequate. "I can't believe you're stronger than me."
"Oh, I am. Believe it." She continued to flex and unflex her strong bicep in my face.
I sighed hard. "Yeah..."
"Look at these muscles. Tell me how big and strong they are," she commanded.
"Okay, you're too strong for me. You've got some strong muscles there."
"Thank you, Mike. You were a worthy opponent, but these muscles were just a little too much for you, I think." I nodded weakly. She felt her hardened bicep and said, "Better get to those chores, Mike. You have a lot of work to do."
"Yeah, I know..."
"...And now that I can beat you at arm-wrestling, I'd like to play football with you guys on Saturday."
"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea, Claudia. Those games are really rough and you could get hurt."
"I want to play, Mike."
"Claudia, don't you think maybe you're getting a little too big for your britches?"
"No, but maybe my legs are getting too big for my britches with all the squatting I've been doing. See how big my legs are? They're bigger than yours." I observed that Claudia's leg muscles were pressing out of her tight sweatpants. She did have powerful legs, especially compared with mine. "Look at those skinny twigs," she said, pointing at my legs that failed to fill up my loose-fitting jeans. I folded my arms, defensively. "I'd like to see what happens when you boys go up against a girl with so much muscle as me."
"Claudia, we're talking about football here. It's a lot different than arm-wrestling."
"Well, if you don't let me play I'm going to tell all your friends that I can beat you at arm-wrestling. And if they don't believe me we can always have a re-match to see what you can do against this muscle. I promise, I'll beat you a lot faster next time, too."
I looked at her and said, "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

From that day on, life at home for me was a little odd because knowing that your little sister is stronger than you tend to do something to a guy's ego. Although she never told anybody about her superior strength, she knew that I knew she was stronger than me and it's a humiliating feeling.
Claudia did join in our Saturday football game a few weeks later. We'd never played football with someone who lifted weights like Claudia did. It was horrible. No one could tackle Claudia. Her big strong legs were too much to handle. This strong-legged girl would not go down. She dragged boys along, knocked boys down. She was so powerful, we all got to be afraid to tackle her because we were the ones getting hurt. And whenever she tackled someone, they crumpled to the ground, helplessly. My little sister's muscles were too strong to resist. On one play she ripped the ball right out of my hands and ran the other way. On another, she layed out my friend Tom so hard, he had the wind knocked out of him and had to sit down for a while.
In the final humiliation, Claudia piggybacked me home from the game, telling me how light I felt. As I sat atop her broad, thick-muscled back, she bounced down the sidewalk. I could feel her large leg muscles pumping powerfully below me. No one had ever piggybacked me the way she did, so easily and energetically, so unhindered by my weight. I felt so scrawny and weak. It was emasculating beyond words.
"Oh my God," I murmered. It was horrible.
Claudia just giggled. "Pretty strong, huh?"
Reply With Quote
The Following 3 Users Say Thank You to deepkick For This Useful Post:

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Similar Threads
Thread Thread Starter Forum Replies Last Post
jimp - other stories jimp Wrestling & Fighting Stories 1 03-Sep-23 08:57
My Little Sister Gets Strong (By IndustrialFlesh) deepkick Wrestling & Fighting Stories 3 19-May-21 17:59
Session Stories salmon2o Wrestling & Fighting Discussion 9 19-Jan-14 14:47
brooksie's stories brooksie Wrestling & Fighting Stories 7 15-Jan-13 14:41
my old stories rarrudda Wrestling & Fighting Stories 0 12-Dec-12 15:17

All times are GMT. The time now is 09:47.

Powered by vBulletin® - Copyright ©2000 - 2023, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.