Ele: the new girl at work

[Reta_Road]

Story time:

Episode 1

When I first met Ele, it was her second month with the company, fresh out of college, newly rotating into a position on the team. I came to join this team about a year and a half prior through the same college to rotational program track. So, naturally, as she worked to get up to speed, I took on somewhat of a mentor role, having done much of her job before and being somewhat similar in age (about 2 year difference) it was almost expected of me by the larger team.

She was a quick study, sometimes due to being simply sharp and other times by sheer force of will, spending the long hours. She had a good sense of humor, able to throw a barb as well as she could take one, and a propensity to laugh at anything. Ele dressed with expensive and unique taste, despite not having quite the substantial salary to back it up. She would often wear skirts and high heels with eye liner to match whatever was the dominant color of the outfit. While her legs seemed toned and her calves cut like steel, I could not expect the power I’d soon learn they could muster. After all, she was just a little girl! Although she often sported heels, her 5”2 stature still forced her to look up at me when we’d speak.

And so, between these appealing personality traits and her physical ones, I rather liked having Ele around and could find myself going out of my way to strike conversation. Now with everything I’ve mentioned up until this point, I should explain that I have a bit of a rule about office flirting: don’t do it. And while I’d have happily slept with Ele given the opportunity, it wasn’t something I was actively pursuing.

But that changed with one simple conversation over lunch, when she revealed she works with a personal trainer 5 days a week after work.

“My trainer said I’m definitely getting stronger! Now I curl 20s!” Ele said excitedly between bites of her meal. I nearly choked on my food when she unprompted flexed her right bicep. “It’s got a little pop to it now!” She commented, turning his wrist back and forth to play with it. Indeed, a thick line delineated her tricep and bicep which boasted a noticeable “pop”.

I probably looked white as a sheet, fixated on that dazzling bicep and what I had just learned. I knew she was watching for me, it was my turn in our conversation, and we both knew it. But the only thing I could think of was I was curling 25s but I hadn’t been to the gym in some weeks. I mentally kicked myself for slacking but there was also this nagging excitement. Was this tiny, bubbly girl possibly stronger than me? My heart beat quick, counting out the the awkward pause before I would speak.

“Wow..! That’s— that’s impressive. How long have you been seeing a trainer?”

“8 months!” She responded, chipper, “it was my New Year resolution. I think I’ve come a long way,” she said, still checking herself out, as if she was only realizing her physique now. A girl at the table over in the cafeteria had noticed Ele flexing and for a brief second we locked eyes. I looked away, ashamed.

“Oh, yeah?” I mustered. Fixated on her.

“No, really! When I started with my trainer Thomas I was using a 15lb dumbbell for single leg squats and now I use 40!”

My mind raced, I had to know more. Suddenly, I saw Ele in a new light. She was tough and determined just like her work ethic. I had flashes of wrestling her and I could not fully get past that I could possibly lose. Maybe more than possibly. She was curling only a little less than me but with a lot more consistency. And 40 pound single leg squats? It’s not something I had tried but I suspected it was more than I could muster. I couldn’t unsee the grapevine I wanted her to put me in— the real test of whose legs are stronger.

I realized it was my turn to talk again. And she had been waiting.

“That’s seriously impressive! I’m not sure I can do that.”

“Oh I’m sure you can! You’re bigger than me.”

Those words cut deep

“Have you ever arm wrestled anyone?” I knew the question was clumsy when I heard it, but I had to know.

“Uhm not since maybe middle school. I wasn’t very good. Although I think I did make this kid Tommy cry. Are you asking me to arm wrestle?”

I paused. Was I? I wanted to test her strength badly but I also didn’t want this whole cafeteria to see me lose to this small, young girl, if it came to that.

I tried to play it cool and goad her in to talking more about whatever happened to this Tommy fellow, “us arm wrestling? Haha no I’m good, we don’t need this whole cafeteria seeing a repeat of your Tommy incident, right?”

“Wait a minute! You’re saying you think you’d lose?!” She said teasing, but with realization in her voice

“No I just meant like.. I was joking!”

“Well now we have to arm wrestle!”

What had I done? I suppose this is what I deserve for trying to pry with all these questions. But also isn’t this what I really want? To be outmuscled by Ele with everyone watching? I glanced over at the girl from the table over, she was watching back, no doubt curious why Ele sported a menacing grin and I looked scared and meek. I had to get out of this.

“I’ve got the 1pm call with the west coast and I need to look over the deck again. How about we duke it out later? Flagpole after class?” I joked, hoping this abrupt and flimsy excuse would work. I never prepare for that call and we both knew it.

“Chickening out?” She joked, gesturing to the contents of her lunch, “beating you won’t take a full minute, plenty of time for your call.” She giggled as she said this, knowing I was cornered. She began moving her tray to the side while she planted her right elbow on the table, assuming the position, waiting for me. Looking at me with those big eyes, accented by eyeliner, I felt like I could see the confidence shimmer in them.

Realistically, there probably weren’t that many people watching, but it felt like there were. That girl at the other table gathered her friends’ attention to Ele’s challenge and as I moved my tray over, put my elbow down, and took her hand, I could sense the eyes on me. This was a no win situation: beat a girl and it’s nothing, lose and it’s an upset. Why do I desire this deep down? Why is my cock thick and making a tentpole under the table? Do I want her to win?

All these swirling thoughts have to be pushed to the side as Ele tells me I can count it off.

We go on 3. Suddenly her grip on my hand is tight, much tighter than mine is on hers, as if she can win by cutting off circulation. After a second or two it starts to sink in, she’s not really budging. I crank up the force, now starting to give it my all, leaning into it more. I hear her groan slightly, like a machine adjusting to more pressure, but she keeps our position mostly.

“Is that all you got?” She teases between straining.

We were mostly still at the starting position, teetering a bit to my advantage but I couldn’t get her farther down. My bicep burned. She was right, this was all I got, and the longer it went on the more I worried about having enough juice in the tank. My concerns proved justified as over the next twenty or so seconds, my arm began to tire and Ele brought us back to starting position and then bent my wrist, putting her “over the top”. My heart raced with the knowledge that she was about to beat me, I was weakening while she endured. I couldn’t look at her and instead I caught the sight of the table of onlookers. I felt the heat of many eyes on me as Ele brought my arm lower and lower.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, “are you really trying?” Her voice rang mostly of disbelief but I could tell there was pity and contempt in there too.

What could I say to a question like that? Yes, but that’d be admitting defeat. Or no, but that’s even more pitiful when I can’t deliver on it. And it would be a when— I knew deep down I was not winning this arm wrestle.

I said nothing, how could I? It was a mere second more before Ele made one last push that conclusively pinned my arm to the table. I had lost. As we separated hands, I couldn’t help but meet her gaze— she looked confident and pleased with herself. No doubt she could see that I felt the opposite. I was blushing and had came in my pants— fortunately a dark pair of jeans that didn’t show it.

“You weren’t letting me win, were you” She said in a lower, almost hushed voice. It was not really a question and it wasn’t annunciated like one, but it gave me an out. I knew she pitied me now but I needed this.

“Yeah, I wasn’t giving it my all. I just wanted to see how strong you are— and you are really strong! I’m impressed”

“Thanks!” She giggled, “maybe after a little more training, we’ll try again where you go all out!” She winked at me and my heart sank.

Sounds like you need to step it up at the gym. Maybe get a a trainer. You don’t want to get embarrassed and more important, you don’t want to blow the opportunity to start a promising relationship. She sounds like a real prize. Good luck!

[Rockwave]

Love this story. I really hope it continues

[mixfightor]

Originally Posted by Reta_Road [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]

I was blushing and had came in my pants— fortunately a dark pair of jeans that didn’t show it.

I've got to get a pair of these magic jeans.

Damn, Ele sounds hot. Good luck keeping to that 'no flirting at work' rule, mate.

[l0000]

Hope you continue this.

[Reta_Road]

While to me, the power dynamic between Ele and myself had fundamentally shifted, the rest of the world chugged along unaware. I saw her in a new light, a tiny powerhouse who I craved to be humiliated by again. Simultaneously, I feared at each corner she’d provoke another competition of strengths and the shame would permanently alter how I was perceived in our office.

Something had certainly changed. Take our 1-on-1 meetings, which I used to look forward to, for instance. Sometimes they didn’t have much by the way of work and was really just spent hanging out away from the fields of desks. All meeting rooms have at least one glass wall to keep with the “open office” theme and we’d have to feign busy for passerby coworkers, but that was easy enough. In the past, these meetings were where I got to know Ele best, see her quick wit and her determination.

However, since the arm wrestle, time spent with her— especially alone— had become a mental minefield. Anytime we met I would compulsively and excitedly worry that our chitchat would turn into a rematch. One glass door was too many and the thought of losing to Ele again in front of my peers was something I could not push to the side. If it was going to happen again, it felt like it would be a challenge in a meeting room— the cafeteria seemed impossible to repeat. And these types of rooms felt like a shameful place to lose too; being on display behind glass, like some kind of show. This thought had all but consumed my waking moments and that takes a toll on any person.

I had also started jerking off to the thought of Ele, her cute outfits and adorable giggle but also her raw power and how she had outmuscled me. When I went to the gym, I’d wonder if she could do better than me constantly. Our arm wrestle was something I had thought about countless times and therefore Ele became no small obsession.

So in retrospect, it makes sense that in these meetings and others I noticed a power shift between us. For example, I walked into our meeting room for a meeting last week and Ele was there, at the head of the table. It dawned on me that I had stopped taking the head of the table in this meeting, in fact I couldn’t think of the last time I sat there. It must have been before arm wrestling. When we jumped in to the meeting, it felt like I now listened to her speak and waited to respond instead of having an open conversation on equal footing.

All of Ele’s long hours and discipline were paying off at work, just like at the gym. She’d really come into her own in her role and I’d noticed those who would once come to me for guidance or assistance were now reaching out to her. Even I was asking her to show me how she did things.

That was half the reason I scheduled the 1-on-1 that took place this morning— Ele had built a new tracker that was more granular than I knew how to create. The other half reason was to see her; I wanted the opportunity to take glances at the cute girl and her bicep that she had proven was stronger than mine.

I was running late from my previous meeting, so it was no surprise to find Ele already there.

“Hey Reta!” She said, chipper as always. Ele was seated comfortably at the head of the table.

I said my hello while taking her in. Today she wore a green button down top tucked into a black pencil skirt. The eyeliner matched the top while the skirt was paired with sleek black heels. Ele always wore heels and I appreciated what they did to show off her toned legs.

I took my seat waiting for her to begin.

“How’s it going?” She asked, already dictating the flow of conversation. We had our cadence where I was the straightman and she the energetic one to play off it, but she was absolutely buzzing today, smiling in her seat. Something good had happened to her and she couldn’t hide it. Ele could rarely hide anything, her face being incredibly expressive.

“Can’t complain,” I answered, “how about you? You seem even peppier than usual.”

“Ahh! You noticed!” She glowed, perhaps happy I was so in tune with her. I could also see in her visage the embarrassment in how her face betrayed her emotions, as if her good news was meant to be under wraps.

“Well, spill! What’s got you so happy?”

“I PR’d my deadlift! 225! This morning!”

My heart fluttered and simultaneously sank. Ele couldn’t weigh more than 150lbs soaking wet so she was lifting 1.5x her weight. I don’t think I’d ever deadlifted 225 in my life. I could leg press 260 for a few reps, but I suspected this wasn’t necessarily comparable and that Ele could manage much more weight than that. What’s more Ele was lifting more than I weighed! I clocked in right around 200lbs, meaning this little girl could lift me with pounds to spare.

Once again, Ele had left me stunned. It was my turn to speak and I was still in awe. I did my best to string together a sentence.

“Holy cow! You’re something else... What did your trainer have to say about that?”

Ele didn’t miss a beat, responding, “He said I could probably do even more! I’ve got strong legs for my size! But my grip isn’t strong enough to keep up, the bar kept slipping. So he has me doing wrist and forearm exercises.”

Forearm exercises? I hadn’t heard of such a thing before. But I remembered her powerful grip when we arm wrestled. I saw flashes of her smile as my white knuckles were pushed down onto the table. The glass walls were not helping, I felt hot in the face and my cock was stiffening.

Ele simply watched and waited for my response, amused. When I finally noticed, I asked meekly, “What kinda forearm exercises?”

“I have to hold my arms out and hold on to a towel with a weight tied to the end of it. One in both hands.”

As I pictured this, it seemed difficult, and then came the logical next question: could I do this? I planned to try it out my next time at the gym. There was something I needed to know, first, so I tried my best to not sound clunky asking, “towels with weights at the end! Never seen that before. Sounds kinda like Mulan, when she’s climbing that tower! What weight are you using?”

I felt embarrassed to even ask, as if doing so would betray my inner thoughts. That at every chance I was comparing Ele and myself. And each time I was coming up short. But Ele was not embarrassed in the slightest and answered “25s!” while checking out her forearm, tensing her right arm to examine her progress. Despite our size difference, her forearm didn’t look too much thinner than mine.

I could tee up an arm wrestle right now. I felt the opportunity in my gut, that if I said the next few sentences smoothly, I could goad her into another challenge. But did I really want to? It felt almost inevitable that I would lose. And what would happen when people saw? I couldn’t say I lost because I wasn’t trying twice. No one, especially Ele, would believe that. I thought of her knowing wink when I played that excuse last time and suspected she already knew.

All the same, this had been what I had obsessed about for weeks now. It had to happen. What sort of sick masochist am I that I want this?

“Keep working those forearms and you’ll be the office arm wrestling champion in no time!” I said it as casually as I could while ignoring a throbbing erection and a real fear of what my words would cause.

“I might already be the office champion!” She giggled. Her attention had drifted from looking at her tensed forearm to turning her wrist to tease her bicep. It seemed, as excited as she was about them, Ele was not fully used to her muscle gains. “I think I remember beating you even!” She stuck her tongue out childishly as she reminded me of my failure.

“Oh we both know I wasn’t trying”

That was it. I’d set the challenge, lame as it sounded, and I hoped Ele would take me up on it.

Ele put her elbow on the table, ready to go, and looked at me hard, “I’m not convinced. Show me.” Ele spoke in a hushed tone that blended statement and question. She may have said it sweetly, but the skepticism was loud and clear.

As I extended my arm and got in position to lock up with Ele, I scouted who all might have a line of sight and see us. This was the humiliation I had feared and craved— where was the audience? Nearest to us was our teammate Laura, who could see it all as her desk faces directly into the room. A few men, including my friend Dick, were clustered at a table not too far away. They were engulfed in some conversation, but who knew how long that would last and if I could see them I could only assume they could see me. Finally, in the room across from us, which had a glass wall facing into ours, there were two women from the marketing team. That made 9 potential spectators, which was certainly smaller than a whole cafeteria. All things considered, this felt ideal.

“You can count it off” Ele told me. She was giving me every advantage possible.

“On 3,” I said, “1, 2, 3!”

I planned to come out using full power when we started. Last time, I underestimated Ele and let her get an early advantage. Or at least that’s what I had been telling myself. As I said three, I felt her grip tighten, nearly crushing my hand. Her brutal grip had only gotten worse since our first match— it was as if part of her strategy was to cut off blood circulation to my fingers. Spitefully, I tried to increase my grip but her knuckles just didn’t whiten like mine.

It had been a few seconds of my all out force, even leaning my shoulder into it. I had tucked my head because it felt natural while I tried to bring her down with all my might, but the downside of doing so was that I couldn’t well gauge my progress. I could tell I was winning so far. As I looked up what I saw terrified me. Ele was watching me, amused, smiling, and clearly not trying as much as me. Despite, all my efforts, even using some of my weight as leverage, and we were no more than an inch past starting position.

She wasn’t confrontational, rather entertained and even gentle, as she asked me, “Are you trying? Because I’m not trying that hard.”

“You wish!” I said behind gritted teeth, “I’m just getting started.” I leaned in a little more, trying to really use my weight and longer arm to my advantage.

“Okay, tough guy,” she smirked.

Ele grunted as she took on the increased pressure. As she acclimated to it, she started to bend my wrist. Shit. Her forearm and wrist exercises were paying off. It was a gradual fight that I was never going to win, only delay the inevitable. She had me over the top within the next 10 seconds.

I took a second to move my gaze from our arm position to Ele’s face. She looked truly pleased with herself. She didn’t give off a competitive or victorious vibe, rather, just proud of her accomplishment.

I think I really could have died in this moment. This was of the humiliation I had been obsessing over for weeks— almost exactly how I feared it would go; even more decisive than the first time. At least there didn’t seem to be any immediate onlookers.

As if I willed it into existence by thinking it, I heard a tap on the glass. Nervous, I turned my head to see Laura. I had to refocus on the match as I noticed Ele pushing on, perhaps not distracted by Laura. After all, why would Ele mind an audience?

“Wow! Go Ele!” Laura said, poking her head in. I could hear the surprise in her voice that Ele was holding her own. She was slowly bringing my hand past the starting position and in doing so gaining leverage. Now that she had me over the top, her shoulder started putting in work. My arm burned. I could feel my bicep being torn. She had all the leverage now and I knew I was never pushing her back to start, let alone winning. All she had to do was do it; push me down and finish it.

But to my surprise, Ele eased up on some of her power, and we stayed mostly held in place. Was she finally tiring? Had I actually started to drain her? Grimacing to keep Ele in place, I looked up again, and to my surprise she was already looking right at me. We locked eyes— unintentionally on my part at least at first, but once I saw her, I was fixated and could not look away. Her expressive face betrayed her: Ele was giddy with herself and feeling confident, although calm. It occurred to me that by now she must know I was not going to win.

Perhaps my face is more expressive than I give myself credit for because what Ele said next struck right to the core. “Are you really trying? Tell me you’re really trying. Then we can end this.”

I was straining hard just to keep the position. My arm was absolutely exhausted. Maybe I should admit it. Ele and I both knew the truth. And I wasn’t the only one who thought so

“I think he’s really trying!” Laura chimed in. She sounded impressed with Ele and laughed a little awkwardly in contempt for me as she said this.

I glared at her instinctively. Behind Laura, the two women from marketing, in their own room, had stopped all work to watch us. I didn’t dare look over at Dick and his friends. Besides, I needed to refocus. Keeping Ele at bay was a full time job and I think I needed to say something soon one way or another.

It was now that Ele started to toy with me. She forced my hand very low, almost to the point where she would win. And in truth she could win whenever she wanted to with one last big push, but each time she would ease up, let me move us closer to neutral, and then turn on the pressure again. Ele was in control and I was too exhausted to mount any kind of resistance. We went low because she said so, we went to neutral because she willed it. Ele took us to halfway to her winning and looked at me, almost bored, if not for how exciting her newfound strength was to her.

“If you just admit it we can stop.” I could tell Ele was starting to pity me, reminding me there’s an out to make this end.

The longer this went on, the more likely more people would notice that I was being manhandled by a small girl in arm wrestling. And at this point, to any observer that was within earshot, it was already clear who was going to win. Ele was stronger than me. Deep down, I knew this, and had known it for some time, but to be forced to say it, out loud, and to her. This was more than my darkest fantasies of humiliation had taken me. All the imagining I had done for this moment and the reality was still so much more humiliating.

“Just say it,” she said, a little more forcefully.

It was now that I decided to admit it.

“I’ve been trying,” I sighed, “You are the winner. Good game.”

But it wasn’t over until Ele said it was over. From the one quarter position, Ele twisted my wrist and made sure to activate her shoulder, and in one swift motion, she brought my knuckles decisively down to the table. The thump was louder than I expected.

Laura wooed quietly, cheering while being mindful of our office environment. As my defeat sank in, my shame mounted. I couldn’t meet Ele’s eyes as she released my hand. My knuckles had been crushed and it felt good to have them free from her vicious grip.

“Good game, Reta!” Ele said. She was over the moon— between her victory and her PR earlier, I reckoned she was feeling invincible.

“Well! Now that that’s done! Ele, can I borrow you? Sandra wants to know how you put together your future projections. She’s in a meeting about it now.” Laura said. It seemed she was pretty excited about the match too.

“Sure, if Sandra is asking!” Ele responded. Sandra lead our team— she was a weary veteran of the industry and well respected across the company. She was a hard woman to say no to. “Reta, are you cool if we pick up our meeting later?”

“No problem,” I said feebly, still stunned.

“See you later then!” Ele winked

I watched Ele get up from the head of the table and walk towards Laura, out the door, and down the hall. Laura and Ele giggled as they walked; I wondered if it was about me. I couldn’t resist thinking about Ele’s thick legs and toned calves as she disappeared from my view. I waited another moment or two and then walked with intent to the restroom. In a flurry, I locked a stall behind me, sat down, and worked my stiff cock to completion. As I cleaned myself up, I thought about how Ele dominated the match— she was relentless and she wouldn’t even take the win until it was clear to everyone who was stronger. I’d never been so wholly emasculated.

I sat there in the stall a while, basking in my defeat. Finally, my phone’s calendar reminded me it was time for my next meeting. I pulled myself together and left the stall. I tried to go through my day, pushing what had happened to the side, but I was more than distracted. The only thing that took me out of my daze was a meeting invite from Ele for later that day. No doubt the follow up to our deferred meeting. The minutes until then went slowly; Einstein is right, time is relative.

Finally 5:30pm rolled around and so did my last meeting of the day with Ele. It was around this time some people went home, including Laura who had a long commute and Sandra who had earned it after all these years. But not Ele, determined as ever, she worked the hours. I didn’t mind though because I was glad the office would be emptier when I saw her again.

It was like deja vu as I walked into the same room. Ele had already reclaimed her seat at the head of the table; not that I’d even consider sitting there anymore.

“Hey Reta!” Ele said, smiling like always.

“Hey Ele!” I said. I tried to match her excitement, but with the day I’d had I could tell my voice rang hallow.

“How are you doing?” Her voice dropped octaves going from excited to caring, nurturing, and peppered with pity. No doubt she was thinking of earlier today too.

“I’m okay.” I said flatly. That sat for a moment before I picked up the thought, “You’re seriously strong, ya know?”

“Maybe! Have you considered you’re just seriously weak?” She giggled, teasingly

I froze, I did not expect her to respond like that. So confident, so mean too.

“Relax!” She laughed, “you’re not thaaat weak. I was just teasing! We had a long match, like 3 minutes!”

In the back of my head I thought, “Yeah, right, only because you toyed with me for the last 2 minutes,” but chose to hold my tongue. What good would it do me?

“I didn’t mean to be a bully.” Ele sounded a little upset

“No, no, you’re not a bully,” I reassured her, “I guess I’m still a little sore from losing.”

“Good.” Her approval sat, hanging in the air. It felt good to make Ele happy “Because it felt kind of nice bullying you. I’d never felt such a rush like when you told me you were really trying.”

I’d never heard her talk like that, nearly devoid of sweetness. Ele sounded devious. She made it clear she had savored my torture. I decided she was being really honest with me, telling me that. And it had an effect on me, I felt required to reciprocate.

“I liked it too.”

Her eyes lit up and she smiled wide.

“I thought so.” We paused, “Listen, Laura asked me if she could join me for a workout one morning. Think she was really impressed. Would you want to join us?”

I thought about seeing Ele in action, lifting, sweating, and making me feel weak.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[Robocop1]

I seriously cannot wait for that workout!

[mixfightor]

Ele is sounding better and better, mate.

Thank you for continuing this story.

[tiger]

Really nice so far. Hope it continues!

[petros9191]

Laura is going to win in arm wrestling too?? Excellent story! Nicee!