SHYGUY WINS BY LOSING
by wwia



A work of fiction,

It had been about five years since I had last seen Stacy, my good friend Bob’s
sister. Stacy always fascinated me. She was an athlete, very pretty and
extremely strong. She had went away to college on an athletic scholarship, and
my buddy Bob told me she was going to be in town. I was going to make it a
point to see him while I was home from college myself, and secretly I hoped I
had an opportunity to see her.

My relationship with Stacy was conflicted at best. I had always thought she
was attractive and nice, but she also held some very bad memories for me. Once
she beat me in arm wrestling in front of my father and friends. They never
stopped kidding me about it. Losing to a girl made me feel sick and inferior,
especially with the razzin’ my Dad gave me. My Dad was a former athlete, and a
macho type guy, and he couldn’t believe a girl, even an athletic one who was a
year older, beat his son . He was really pissed at me, and I was humiliated by
his angry words. He even once sent me a dress as a joke. I was a bookish boy
and rather shy at the time, and my father’s and friends razzing just made me
shyer. But I was also fascinated that this pretty girl was strong enough to
beat me in arm wrestling. Of course thinking back, it should not have been a
surprise as when my buddy and I measured her arm at 14 ¾ inches, I measured
mine the next day and it was barely 13 inches. Of course, I was not an
athlete, but was rather a shy bookish boy at the time, although at the time I
didn’t think I was that much weaker than the average guy in my class.

There was another time, when in my confusion as to how I felt about Stacy,
some guys at school started teasing me in front of Stacy near the senior lawn.
I am not sure why, but out of my humiliation and anger at being taunted by the
seniors, I felt Stacy was to blame. I couldn’t understand my feelings at the
time, because secretly I was attracted to her, but she was also the cause (in
my mind) of the humiliation and shame I felt in front of my friends. Now the
Seniors who had heard the arm wrestling story were taunting me. I guess I felt
if I showed her who was stronger, the humiliation would stop, so stupidly I
started to push her. Instead of her backing down, she grabbed my arms and
overpowered me onto the ground. I was helpless with her superior strength and
humiliated even more, when she had me on the ground with her legs straddled
over my stomach, holding my arms on the ground over my head. I never felt so
helpless and humiliated in my life, but I also felt some strange stirrings in
my stomach and groin that were new to me. Her strong arms held me helpless in
front of the other kids, but I noted a touch of sadness in her eyes. She
didn’t do anything further to hurt me, and when I calmed down, she let me go
of me and in my hurray to get away from the humiliating scene, I only briefly
glimpsed her moist eyes looking at me with a sad look in them. I hardly talked
to her from thereon, except for the most minor of small talk, and I am
embarrassed to say I was too humiliated to ever apologize.

Anyhow, unbeknownst to anybody, after that humiliation, I started thinking a
lot about strong girls. In college I found an Internet web site called Diana
the Valkyrie and to my surprise I learned that there were a lot of guys out
there who were fascinated with strong and muscular women. I also learned that
there were a lot of strong women out there, and that it was not so unusual for
an athletic woman to be stronger than some men.

My interest in strong women led me to the gym, and I started working out some
in college. I got stronger, and by the time I was 21, I had 15-inch biceps and
could bench-press 200 pounds. Not incredible, but pretty damn good for a
formerly not too athletic bookworm. Part of me hoped to meet Stacy and ask for
a rematch and beat her in front of my friends and Dad. I was home on spring
break and just the other day I had spent some time with my friend Paul who was
one of the guys who really razzed me when I lost to Stacy in arm wrestling.
Paul in high school had always been a little stronger than me. As a test I
arm-wrestled him at the local bar, ostensibly to see who would pay the tab,
but what I really wanted to find out was if I was stronger. I beat him rather
easily, something I had never done before. In the back of mind, I felt ready
to take on Stacy and vindicate my manhood.

My friend Bob lived about two blocks from my folk’s house so I walked over to
say hello. I knocked on the door, and who do you think answered, Stacy. She
was prettier than I remembered and was wearing jogging pants, and a
sweatshirt. She looked about the same, except a little leaner in the face. She
smiled at me and said "Hi Shy, how have you been?"

"I’ve been great Stacy, and you?"

"I have been a little bored since I came home from school. Not too much to do.
I miss my friends." Perfect, I thought. I said "Why don’t you come over to my
house tonight? We are going to have a few beers with my buds, and listen to
some music, maybe play some pool. You could come over and just hang with us
for a while."

"Great" she said, "At least it won’t be another boring night with the folks."
I told her to come over about 8 p.m. and to bring Bob.

I was excited. My day of triumph was approaching after all of the years of
ignominy. But something else was exciting me. Stacy had only gotten prettier
and there was something about her that was intriguing. I couldn’t tell for
sure, but could she have gotten even more muscular than in high school? I
guess being a college athlete, that should not have been a surprise, but she
didn’t look much bigger, just leaner and it was hard to tell in the baggy
sweatshirt and sweat pants she was wearing. Of course, she didn’t look any
smaller and she was always a fairly stocky girl.

Shortly before eight o’clock the doorbell rang and at the front door was
Stacy. My jaw dropped, because now she was wearing a tight short sleeve dress
and I could see that indeed she was not only leaner, but much more defined and
muscular than back in high school when she wore a layer of girly baby fat that
hid much of her muscle. Now she looked like a thick version of a fitness girl,
almost a bodybuilder, and her biceps were much more peaked and pushed at the
fabric of her dress. She looked fantastic in my eyes.

"Hi" I said. "Where’s your brother?"

"Bob wasn’t ready and I was kind of bored, so I felt like getting here on time
so maybe we could talk a little. Hope you don’t mind."

"That’s fine, " I said. "Come in, would like something to drink?"

"No, but if you don’t mind, I would like to talk to you a bit."

"Sure, let’s go sit down in the Family room."

Nobody had arrived yet, and so it was just Stacy and I in the family room, the
place we used to hang with my friends in high school. My house was always the
house my friends used to congregate at, because my parents I guess had the
patience to have my raucous buds around.

Stacy and I sat down and we made some small chit chat about what we liked and
didn’t like about school, what we wanted to do and such. I found myself
fascinated by her and I couldn’t help but stare at her beautiful body. She was
now all woman, and although muscular, she had a slender feminine waist, but
her body was like an hourglass with flaring lats and powerful muscular legs.
She had thick shoulders, probably from swimming. She also had nice breasts and
in the dress she was wearing I could see her defined pecs. She had definitely
been spending some time in the gym. Anyhow, I told her about what I was doing
in school and my aspirations, and she listened seemingly interested. It was
quite an unusual situation for me, because being very shy and a year younger
than her, I never thought she was interested in me and just thought of me as
her bratty brother’s friend. Now we were both adults, and there was something
about her body language that almost made me believe like she was interested in
me.

Looking at this beautiful muscular gal, I thought less about seeking my
revenge and more about what I had read on the message boards of Diana the
Valkyrie by this guy wwia, a somewhat pompous self appointed spokesperson for
us guys who appreciated the modern female physique athlete. wwia said he never
passed on an opportunity to acknowledge to a muscular woman her beauty as a
strong woman. Now I am really a shy guy, and I don’t think I had ever let
anyone in the world in on my secret passion for the strong muscular woman, but
sitting there alone with Stacy, I couldn’t help but remember wwia’s words "A
strong woman is a beautiful woman." Somehow wwia’s words gave me courage, so I
told Stacy:

"Stacy, I have to say that you look beautiful. I love how strong and muscular
you look. You look very sexy to me. Have you been weight training?"

She blushed and then smiled, and said "Thanks for noticing Shy, most guys are
too weird or embarrassed to say anything, but I have been really working out
and even thinking of trying to get ready for a bodybuilding contest. The only
thing that is stopping me is that I am on athletic scholarship and you train
differently for bodybuilding than you would for my sports."

"Well I just want you to know that I think you look great, and you should keep
up the good work."

"Thank you, by the way Shy, you look really good yourself. Have you been
working out?"

"Yes I have, in fact you kind of inspired me. When you beat me in armwrestling
and later when we had that stupid incident in front of the seniors, I started
thinking that maybe I needed to work out a little. You know me, I have always
been into the books and never much paid attention to athletics. But I figured
I better start working out when a girl could beat me. By the way, I am really
sorry about that stupid incident when you had to pin me. It was my stupid
fault, it was just that I was really embarrassed and the guys were razzing me,
and I was just too young and stupid to appreciate how beautiful a strong woman
like you was at the time. I hope I have grown a little, and I must say you
have only gotten more beautiful since I last saw you. What have you been doing
in the gym to get so ripped?"

"Well, you know I got a little big for gymnastics, so now I am on a swimming
and diving scholarship, but I really got interested in bodybuilding. I work
out about 4 days a week in the gym, and I have a friend who is a competitive
bodybuilder and we train together. My coach however is concerned that I am
getting too ripped and doesn’t want me to lose endurance, so I am trying to
balance it. I also do a little strength training for swimming, and sometimes I
push it towards a powerlifting style. I like the feeling of being strong."

"Me too, you know I used to be a weakling, but now I am benching 200 pounds
for two reps."

At that comment, she smiled coyly at me, like she was keeping a secret, and I
said,

"What is that funny smile for?"

"Nothing"

"Come on"

"Well a 200 pound bench is great Shy, I know a lot of guys who couldn’t do
that..." She trailed off.

"Yeah, but what..." I smiled back at her.

"Its just I don’t want to brag, but I do 250 for five reps and 290 is my
highest and I am shooting for 300 pounds."

I was initially quiet in my shock. Here I was planning to beat this girl in
arm wrestling and she was benching way more than I. My old feelings of
inferiority were starting to come back, when she said quickly,

"But keep in mind I am on an athletic scholarship, and I spend most of my free
time in the gym and I have been doing this longer than you. I am really
impressed that a brain like you who is on an academic scholarship can bench
200 pounds. I don’t think my brother could do that."

She smiled a sweet smile at me and it made me feel much better. Here was this
beautiful strong woman trying to make me feel better, who I had worshipped
from afar all these years. I couldn’t believe how nice she was being to me,
especially after the ass I had made of myself with her on the lawn in front of
those stupid seniors. Then what she said next almost caused my jaw to drop.

"Actually I came over here to apologize to you. I probably should never have
beaten you in arm wrestling in front of your Dad and friends, but there was
something different about you that I had always liked. Unlike my brother’s
other obnoxious and snotty friends, you were always nice to me, and never made
fun of the fact that I was a jock and not like other girls who were only
interested in boys. So many kids would make fun of me in high school calling
me a dumb jock, or telling other people I was just like a guy, and not a girl.
I can’t tell you how many people made fun of me because I liked to be a strong
athletic girl. You never made fun of me, and you always seemed sort of
interested and respectful to me, and I just saw something in your eye. And you
are so smart, I guess I always kind of liked you, so I don’t know what made me
beat you in arm wrestling in front of your friends and Dad, when I should have
known it would have embarrassed you. I should have let you win. I do that all
the time for other guys so I don’t embarrass them. I don’t know for sure why I
had to beat you. I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to let you know I was
special in my own way, like I thought you were special. Then I ended up
embarrassing you and we got into that other stupid thing, I’m sorry, I guess I
just screwed up. Can you forgive me?" She looked at me, our eyes met, and I
couldn’t say anything at first.

My mind sped. I couldn’t believe this. Here was this beautiful muscular female
beauty asking my forgiveness for just being herself. She had worked hard on
building her strength. Why did she have to not be herself just to protect my
fragile male ego. The unfairness of it, combined with her genuine sweetness
shook me to my soul. All these years I was hoping to revenge the bruise to my
male ego, when this sweet girl just liked me, and wanted to let me know what
was uniquely special about her. I felt ashamed that a small thing like losing
in arm wrestling could cause me not to see that this very special and
wonderful girl liked me and wanted to be my friend. She had no trouble seeing
what was special in me, why was I so blind.

Just then the doorbell rang. I went to answer it, and my buddies were there,
along with Bob, with a case of Budweiser. I guess it was time to start to
party. All of my buds said hello to Stacy, and I went into the kitchen to get
some snacks, and one of my buds turned on the stereo. Part of me wished they
would all go home so I could continue talking to Stacy alone.

The doorbell rang again and it was Paul. When he saw Stacy, he said in his
sarcastic voice, "Hey, did Shy have you come over for an arm wrestling
rematch. He’s been working out you know." Stacy just shyly smiled.

I then heard the front door open and Mom and Dad were back from going out to
Dinner. They said hello to all of my friends and were genuinely happy to see
them, since they obviously did not come over when I was away at school. Then
my Dad noticed Stacy and it was if a light bulb went off in his head.

"Hi Stacy how are you? Nice to see you. Ready to give my son a rematch in arm
wrestling? I have been having him work out to get ready for you." Stacy just
smiled shyly.

"Dad" I said, "Give Stacy a break, she doesn’t want to arm wrestle me."

"What’s the matter son, you scared?"

"Yeah" said Paul, "What’s a matter Shy, you scared of a girl. I guess you
should be since Stacy has had your number."

Old habits are hard to break and my so called "buds" started in with their old
comedy routine about what a wuss I was, and then my Dad asked me if I had
enough dresses for spring break. As usual, I did not find the routines very
funny.

Then all of sudden, Stacy said "Come on Shy, let’s try it for old times sake."

I couldn’t believe it, here we had been talking so nicely, and now she seemed
to want to humiliate me again. In a daze I found myself at the kitchen table,
about to relive the humiliation of my youth. I sat in front of Stacy as the
boys surrounded us, my Dad standing in the background. My mom left the room,
not interested in this foolishness. In a daze, I took Stacy’s hand and got
into position. Then I looked into her eyes and she smiled at me and winked.
Then we started to armwrestle.

Unlike before, she didn’t swiftly put me down, and in fact I was holding my
own. I also noticed her bicep getting larger and larger. I pressed and pressed
and she held me firmly, not budging, but she also was not pushing my arm down
any farther. Slowly, incredibly slowly, her arm starting going down, I seemed
to be winning, however something seemed wrong. Then I realized she was letting
me win, she was giving herself up so that I would not be embarrassed.

I felt a mix of emotions. At first I was relieved that I would not suffer
another embarrassment, but then I got angry. Why did she have to lose, if she
was stronger than me. She was cheating herself to protect me. Here was this
beautiful strong woman losing on purpose to protect my frail male ego. I had
just beaten Paul, and knowing my other friends, I believed she could have
beaten any of my buddies in that room. Why she could probably beat my Dad,
whose only exercise of the last few years was pounding beers in front of the
tube watching football. Here was this athlete whose whole life was dedicated
to athletic excellence pretending to lose to me, because I was not man enough
to accept an honest challenge. Why couldn’t she be all she could be, why did
she have to play down for me.

All of sudden, almost unexplainably, a sudden confidence came over me. I put
my left hand on her gorgeous hard bicep and squeezed. My friends practically
gasped at that move, and then I started talking to her, as if no one else was
in the room. For me they weren’t in that room, for right now, the only one I
cared for, the only person whose feelings meant anything to me, was holding my
hand in her strong right arm.

"Stacy, this beautiful arm is stronger than this. I love strong women, and you
are the strongest woman I know. I love that you can bench 300 pounds, you
don’t have to let me win in front of these guys, I know you could beat any one
of them. Be proud of your strength, I think it is beautiful. I don’t ever want
you to let me win, I want you to challenge me, make me stronger. If I ever
win, it is because you will have inspired me to get stronger. Don’t be afraid,
be yourself, I am proud to be your friend, and I will be even prouder to lose
honestly to you, because you are a strong woman and you have the right to show
me your strength."

Stacy’s eyes started to glisten. After a few moments, her right arm started to
pressure mine. Slowly, inexorably, her arm pushed mine back from the 45 degree
angle I had to my advantage, until I could resist no further and she put my
arm down. However, instead of letting go of her hand, I continued to hold it,
and caressed her forearm and smiled to her and said "That was great, good
work. Your strength is really beautiful."

Of course, the boys immediately started to razz me. They were oblivious to the
fact that Stacy and I connected intimately at that moment, as she smiled at me
with shiny eyes, looking at me like she had discovered something special. Paul
said "Well I guess your Dad will have to start getting you some new dresses,
right Mr. Guy."

Then and there I decided not to take it anymore. Coolly I said, "Paul, why
don’t you try armwrestling Stacy, she is really strong, it’s really great. I
am sure you would have no problem, a big strong guy like you." All of sudden
Paul turned pale, remembering that I had beaten him armwrestling just the
other night in the bar.

Just then my Dad said, rubbing his jaw. "I don’t know what I am going to do
with you Shy, I thought you were working out. I guess you will always need a
girl to protect you, you wimp. "

Pressing back my anger, I said "Dad, why don’t you try. You used to be an
athlete, I am sure you could beat Stacy. Could you bench press more than 300
pounds in college, Stacy can only bench 290. But I am sure she would have fun
trying to beat a strong guy like you."

Stacy chimed in, "Sure Mr. Guy, that would be fun."

"I don’t think so Stacy, I don’t want you to get hurt, you just arm wrestled
for over a minute, and the strain may be too much for you."

"Oh don’t worry Mr. G, I have arm wrestled guys in a bar for shooters, and I
didn’t get tired and I didn’t lose in five straight matches. I will be fine."
She smiled sweetly.

My Dad started to look nervous and said, "Oh that’s okay Stacy, Oh I think I
hear my wife calling, I better go see what she wants." My father practically
ran out of the kitchen to the phantom call of my mother.

Stacy looked around the room, and then said to the rest of the guys, "Any of
you other boys want to try?" Silence. The guys looked at each nervously, and
then to break the nervous silence, I said, "Hey anybody want to go get some
tacos at Juanito’s"

"Sounds great" the boys chimed in, and Stacy and I looked at each other and
smiled.

The boys hung around for another couple of hours, but quite frankly I was
eager to see them leave. I took Stacy out to the backyard so we could be alone
for a while. I wasn’t quite sure for what, but then I took her hand. She
pulled up next to me and gave me a long hug and then a sweet kiss on the lips.
I said "What was that for?

"For being strong enough to let me win and brave enough to talk like that in
front of your friends. You don’t know how good that made me feel."

"Only what you deserved, and thanks for catching on and bluffing those guys
into not armwrestling you."

"I wasn’t bluffing, after what you did, I swear I would have beaten every one
of those guys for you, including your Dad. You don’t know how good it made me
feel to find someone who appreciates my strength, and is not afraid of it. It
takes a strong man to accept a strong woman."

We embraced again and gave each other a long kiss. I felt I was floating in
air in the embrace of her strong arms and the sweet fragrance of her body.
That night I found out how true wwia’s saying was that "Strong women make the
best lovers".

The End, (or is just the beginning?)