Trespassers
by Alpesco
Ranch-owner Rebecca deals with some visitors.


"Time to get up." Becca's voice awoke me as she strode into the empty
bunkhouse.

I'd worked late at the farm last night, and had decided to sleep over in one
of the eight bunkhouse beds rather than go back to my cabin two miles up the
valley. I was only half-awake, and covered my face to block out the rush of
daylight as she drew back the windowblind.

"Wake up!" My twenty-five year-old employer's voice was insistent. "It's
already past six thirty." I felt her standing next to the bunk bed. Then
suddenly I felt my whole body being lifted off the bed, complete with
bedclothes, as two lanky arms burrowed under me and scooped me up! Startled, I
struggled to free myself, but found myself cradled with a mass of sheets and
blankets five feet off the ground in the tall young woman's arms. I was
surprised how rock-solid her arms felt beneath me, I didn't feel in any danger
of falling. She was very strong.

"Good morning Josh." I looked down, startled to see Harry and Lisa, Miss
Rebecca's kid brother and sister, looking up at me, being held in their big
sister's arms.

"Put me down!" I spluttered, totally embarrassed, and still trying to escape
Becca's long arms.

"Calm down, Josh," Becca said, holding me where I was, and resisting my
struggles so easily, it was hard to believe I weighed more than she did. Tall,
slim and rawboned, Becca was two inches taller than me at six feet, with a
narrow waist and wide shoulders. But where I weighed a solid 200 pounds, she
was a good deal slimmer. I guessed she was a rangy 150 to170 pounds of bone
and lean, hard muscle. Her face was good looking, and topped with tousled
blonde hair. Her solidly muscled legs stretched the heavy denim of her jeans.

I struggled again, but couldn't escape those steely arms. The swelling biceps
were granite-hard. I felt humiliated, cradled like this by a girl ten years
younger than me, and unable to do anything about it.

"I think you need a little wake-up." She strode to the bunkhouse door, kicked
it open, and strode out still carrying me. She continued to stride briskly
across the empty yard toward a large wooden butt. Abruptly her arms released
me and I plummetted into a butt of icy water.

"That's your morning bath taken care of," Rebecca said. The kids giggled as I
floated around in the container in my underwear, surrounded by sheets from the
bed.

"Get cleaned up and have a quick breakfast," Becca said, turning away. "We
start work in thirty minutes."

I clambered out of the galvanized tub, wondering what to do. I didn't really
know how to react to Becca. She was boss on this ranch and I had to do as she
said if I wanted to keep my part-time job here. But as well as being boss, she
was disconcertingly strong, and she seemed to enjoy using her strength on me.
I felt humiliated, but I couldn't object. Becca was not only physically
powerful, she was my boss, and could fire me anytime she wanted, and me and my
grandfather needed my wage to keep our smallholding afloat.

I made myself some breakfast in the farm house. It was a neat substantial
building. Becca had inherited the ranch six years ago, and lived here alone
with her 9 year old brother Harry and 7 year-old sister Lisa. As I ate, the
tall figure of Rebecca stepped out on the porch. She was wearing only a
sleeveless cotton tee-shirt above her jeans, leaving her arms and a glint of
midriff bare. She strode toward a heavy black punchbag that swung from a rafter
in one corner, and began to hit it with her strikingly long arms. I stopped
eating to stare at her. The sheer amount of noise as she started to whip in
those punches was a lot greater than I expected.

Crummp. Crummp. Crummpp. Krooom! Crummmp! Crummmpp! Krooommm!! The deep noise
of the blows filled the whole house, echoing round the kitchen and along the
hall, clear evidence of the power with which she was hitting. The sound was
uncomfortable, violent and disconcerting.

Rebecca stood about a yard back from the bag, swaying and guarding as if she
were facing an actual opponent, but her powerful arms covered the distance to
the bag in milliseconds, delivering a sequence of devastating blows that sent
the hundred pound punchbag swinging wildly. She moved fluidly, ducking and
weaving as her long arms plowed into the jolting bag from all angles. The bag
bent, rocked and jerked as her blows powered in. And they didn't stop.

Rebecca's face concentrated as she threw in another ten blows just as hard as
the first dozen. There was a heck of a lot of punishment going into that
tortured bag as the thick, dense muscles along her arms rippled and flickered.
The noise grew even louder as the six-footer started to increase the power of
her blows. I could no longer hear the radio on the shelf behind me.

"Too noisy!" Lisa yelled, covering her ears as Rebecca continued to pile
punches into the tortured leather. "You're always hitting that poor bag."

"I'll stop soon," Becca yelled back, continuing to hurl punch after punch,
just as intimidatingly hard. "Now just five more big ones." She said at last,
stretching out an arm to steady the swinging bag. The arm drew back, then she
piled five more big punches into it. KROOM! KROOM! KROOOM! KROOOM! KAROOOOMM!
The noise was immense, the sound echoing back from the barns across the
farmyard as the young woman's long, deep-muscled arms drove surprisingly large
and blocky fists into the hundred pound bag. The bag caved in, and distorted
completely with each blow, swinging wildly on its metal hook which I feared
would rip out of the rafter. Clouds of dust shot out of the seams of the bag
as her blows fired in, forcing the trapped air out of it. I gulped. I wouldn't
like to have received even one of those big punches, let alone all five.

"That was impressive," I said.

"I just love to hit real hard," she grinned. Becca's hands were long, and her
fist, when she clenched it was surprisingly large and blocky. "It relieves a
lot of stress to really max out those big punches. The harder I hit, the
better - and I can hit pretty darn hard. I'm real strong, I have all the right
levers, and I work-out to increase my hitting power every day. I get through
about eight of those punch bags a year. I think I'll have to order a heavier
one next time." She windmilled her big arms, creating a draft of air. "There's
not many guys in the whole state can hit as hard as these babies."

I was beginning to believe her.

We spent most of the morning working routine tasks about the farm. About ten
o'clock I was cleaning out one of the sheds when I saw Rebecca jog across the
main yard and past the corral. Three people were climbing a fence on to the
open ground beyond. There were two men and a woman. I followed.

"Hey! What are you doing on my land?" Rebecca called out as she caught up to
them. She was not quite as tall as the larger of the two men, but a few inches
taller than the other two.

The first man turned to face her across the fence. "We're walking over to
those hills." He pointed north.

"Not without my permission," the young woman frowned. "Who said you could just
walk across my land?"

"We're doing no harm," the second man said. "We're out looking for old
mineworkings in the hills."

"Well, all of this land, right up to the tops of those hills, belongs to me,"
Rebecca said. "And I don't like strangers just walking through, especially
ones carrying guns." She nodded to a rifle on the other man's back.

"That's just for protection," the taller man said. " Anyhow most of this is
open range, and we're doing no harm."

"Nobody comes on my property unless I grant them permission," Becca frowned, "
- and I'm not giving it to you." She pointed back toward the road. "That's the
shortest route off my property."

The larger man looked irritated. "You can't keep us from going in to those
hills!" He turned away and began to stride purposefully toward the north.

Becca vaulted the timber fence in one smooth movement, and was a step behind
him before he realized it. With no further warning, she bent, and just picked
the six foot two figure up in her long arms, cradling the startled
forty-year-old, before turning with him to stride back toward the farm
buildings.

"Wha...!" I could see that the stranger was shocked at Rebecca's strength and
her ability to cradle him securely nearly five feet above the ground.

"Put me down!" he yelled, struggling to escape the six-footer's steely arms as
she strode toward the gate. Stunned by this unexpected turn of events, his two
companions watched dumbly, and then slowly followed.

Becca nodded to me to open the gate. I swung it open to allow her to walk back
into the main farm yard. She stood tall and straight as a marine sentry as she
carried the 200 pound man, his pack and rifle, at a brisk stride toward the
front of the house. His two companions had almost to jog to keep up with her.

"Put me down!" the man had recovered from his shock, and tried to twist
himself free with increasing anger and desperation. But he couldn't escape the
determined young woman. He was being humiliated, his body held in this girl's
steely grasp, his legs kicking impotently in the air. He began to strike out
wildly with his arms, striking her head with his elbow.

"You better not do that again," Rebecca warned, her voice dark.

His arm came round once more. This time Rebecca was forewarned enough to move
her head aside to avoid the attempted blow.

She stopped abruptly, setting him down on hs feet,. Then she took a single
step back. For an instant the man thought his tactic had achieved success. He
was about to brush himself down. Then her two arms moved, with eye-blurring
speed, lashing in two startlingly fast and heavy punches - one into his face,
the other to his body.

"Ouahhh! Ourrrgghhh!" The man groaned in startlement and pain, reeling
backward to crash into a line of fencing. He staggered dizzily, bleeding. He
steadied himself, a look of shock and anger on his face. He stepped forward.
Becca simply turned, and her long arm unleashed again. CRAACK! The noise of
this punch was nearly twice as loud as the first two. The man groaned, and
flew heavily back into the fence once more, hitting it hard as his head was
spun round through 100 degrees. His two companions gasped. The guy looked
stunned, and shocked at the same time, as if he'd been hit by a truck that had
come at him out of nowhere. He seemed to be finding it hard to stay upright.
His face was bruised and swelling. A trail of blood ran down from his
cheekbone.

Rebecca took a step forward, bent, and picked him up in her arms again. This
time her unwilling burden offered no resistance at all. The lesson had clearly
been learnt. Becca was able to administer shockingly severe punishment with
frightening speed. I thought I saw the guy shaking. The big man remained still
and completely docile in the tall young woman's arms. His two companions,
looked-on, stunned as the tall figure carried him across to her pick-up.

"What do you think you're going to do with him?" the second man spoke at last,
catching up.

Rebecca stopped and set the first man on his feet beside the pick-up truck. He
looked even worse now as the bleeding developed from his nose and a deep cut
on his cheek. The heavy bruise along the left side of his face seemed to have
deepened and doubled in size. "Stay completely still, and don't move," she
ordered him. "You'd be wise not to give me a reason to have to hit you again,
do you understand?"

He nodded, wary of Becca's strong arms. Becca appeared to have established
mastery over him with just those three shattering punches.

Facing the other two, Becca said, "I'm putting all three of you off my land.
After that, you're not to return to any part of my property. That's the whole
of this valley, right up to the hills ten miles north."

"You've no right to hit Richard like that," the woman said. She was in her
thirties and about five foot eight.

"He tried to hit me, I responded," Rebecca said, matter-of-factly. "Getting
violent with me is not wise."

She turned back to face the six foot two figure she had just carried here.
"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Richard Westerman." he slurred. "Who are you?"

"I'm Rebecca Olsen, owner of this ranch. Now show me some I.D," she said.
"Now."

"You don't have any right..." he began, halting as Rebecca's face darkened.

Wordlessly, Westerman felt in a pocket, and took out a wallet.

"Richard you're not going to...." the woman began.

"I don't have any choice," he said. "You don't realise how hard she can hit..
It's bad... really bad..."

"Okay," Rebecca seemed unsurprised at the effect her punches had had on this
man, taking the wallet from him, and looking through the contents. "Anything
else?"

He shook his head.

"I see you have hunting permits," she looked at him. "I don't allow hunting on
my land. I'm putting all three of you off now - and you better not come back."

Bending, she just picked the two hundred pound figure up again in her arms.
She carried him to the pick-up and placed him in the back. "Stay there." she
ordered. She signalled to the man's companion to approach. She did.

Becca picked the five eight woman up effortlessly and swung her into the back
of the pick-up beside her man.

"Now you," she beckoned the other man to step forward, doing the same with
him. She was about to step into the cab when Lisa came running up from behind
the barn.

"Becca. Becca!" she yelled. "Someone left a gate open, and there's a stag from
the pen caught in the utility shed!"

"What?" the six footer looked round. "Stay there." she ordered the three
trespassers as she began to run after her kid sister. I followed, but couldn't
keep up with her pace on her long legs. When I caught up to Becca, I saw her
looking into a small shed behind the main house. A deer, a young stag, not
quite full-grown, had got itself trapped in the confined space. It was
entangled in some wire, screaming and rearing, trapped in the confined space.

Becca tried to approach, but it just grew more panicked, crashing into the
electric supply boxes, and tearing at the cables with its half-formed antlers.

"It'll wreck the place if we don't control it!" I said. "it's panicking!"

"Stay here!" Becca strode up to the rearing stag, timing her advance to
coincide with it falling back on to its forelegs. She stared it in the eye as
her right arm drew slowly back. The trapped creature seemed about to rear once
more. It was then that her right hand formed a fist, which crashed in with all
its force, driving at eye-numbing speed into the stag's jaw. CRACK! The blow
hit with shattering power. The long swing had been telegraphed, but its victim
had not been in a position to interpret the priming of Becca's long arm, and
the danger it posed, until the blow struck home. Now it bellowed in pain,
stumbling backward in shock.

The tall twenty five year-old took another stride forward, and her big arms
unleashed again. They struck as they had struck the punch-bag, like heavy
flails, impacting with enormous weight. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! In just over a
second, Becca fired three lightning-fast punches into the base and sides of
the stag's long jaw. Her heavy fists whistled through the air to crash
savagely into their target. Becca's face was set as the impacts landed with
astonishing force. The deer moaned in pain beneath the onslaught, and
staggered even farther backward.

"Sis, you're hurting him!" Lisa cried in alarm.

"It's tough, but I have to do it," Rebecca said. "Otherwise it'll hurt itself
and wreck the power supply to the whole farm."

The young stag was bewildered now, confused by the shock and the pain. It just
didn't have time to react as the tall young woman wound two more huge blows
in, her fist arcing through nearly five feet in a fraction of a second, to
crash in on its target in front of her. The combination of speed, accuracy and
power was devastating, even to this 400 pound creature.

I knew that Rebecca's arms were strong, but I hadn't imagined they could do
this much damage to an animal this size. The sound of the impacts told just
how much damage they must be doing. Another huge punch tore into the creature
as the young deer tried to back into the wall. The deer shook as its head was
torn to one side. Bewildered and shocked, the animal was totally unable to
defend itself. The cumulative power of the tall young woman's punches was
going right off the scale. The stag tried to rear, but Becca just took a step
backward, briefly halting her onslaught until it came back down, right into
Becca's hitting zone.

KRUMMM! KRUMMP! The six-footer seemed irritated that the animal was still
showing any sign of resistance, and she sent her powerful arms crashing in
with even more force. She didn't seem to be tiring at all. In fact she gave
the impression that she could keep on firing those outrageous blows for as
long as she shose to. she was completely in command. The stag's head was being
knocked from side to side now. It was weakening visibly, too unbalanced to
rear as Becca's punches continued to power in. With the next blow, the deer
stumbled,

KRROOOMMM. The harshest blow yet, knocked the whole animal several steps
sideways. At once, Becca stepped forward and delivered two equally hard
rights. I gasped as the young stag stumbled and its forelegs gave way beneath
it. It's body slumped to the ground.

For an instant the creature just lay there, semi-conscious.

Becca drew a breath. then advanced to a position alongsise it. She squatted,
raising her heavy fist to hold it poised directly over its head. CRUMMMP! Her
arm moved powerfully as the fist drove down hard into a space just behind the
animal's temple. The deer spasmed and was still. She raised her arm, inspected
the creature for a moment, then hit again. There was something harsh and
hollow about the sound of the impact.

"That was just to make sure," Becca said, unclenching her fist to feel the
animal's face. "It's unconscious."

I couldn't believe it. The young stag was out cold, breathing harshly.

"WOW Sis!" Harry said. "You kayoed it with your bare hands! You're so
powerful!"

"Yeah." Becca stood over the fallen deer, breathing hard. "I knew what I was
doing. I've knocked out animals that size before." She flexed her bare arms,
producing a heavy display of muscle. "Hit anything long enough and hard
enough, it'll go down. Okay. Let's get it out of here before it comes round."

"Did you have to hurt it like that?" Lisa asked.

"If I hadn't done that, I'd probably have had to shoot it," her older sister
said. "it was too close to all that electric power."

Becca and I tied a rope around the creature's legs, and dragged it out into
one of the pens where it belonged. It lay, still unconscious, as I untied it.

"I don't know how badly hurt it is," Becca said. "I had to hit it pretty hard
to put it down. We won't know if there's any lasting damage until it comes
round and settles down. I'll bet it was those strangers who released him."

"What about them?" I asked, suddenly remembering. "Where are they now?"

"I saw them take the truck and set off for the hills." Harry said.

Rebecca's face set. "They won't get far," she said. "Come with me, Josh!"

Swinging her six foot frame up into the saddle of her favorite black horse,
Rebecca mounted up, a gun in the saddle holster. I followed. It was very clear
that she was angry.

"They have a gun," I said. "What if they use it?"

Rebecca looked stern. "That would be a big mistake," she said.

Rebecca rode hard and fast. It was easy to see she was an expert horsewoman.
It was all I could do to keep up with her. We found the three strangers about
three miles north of the ranch house, trying to gun the pick-up up a steep
rise. The vehicle was stuck.

"Get out of the truck," Becca said as he rode her horse round in froont of it.
"I warned you not to stay on my land!"

Seeing her in front of them, the three got out.

"We were just trying to get to town," the woman said.

Becca slipped off the horse to face them, indicating that I should stay
mounted.

"You're going to town, all right," she said. "I'm going to hand you all in to
the Sheriffs office, charged with trespass, damage and vehicle theft."

"What?" Westerman said. "You can't do that. I'll counter-file."

"All three of you are going to jail," Rebecca said. "For a day or two, at
least - and if I decide to press charges you'll get at least three months."

"Bitch!" It was the woman who raced forward, her arms outstretched as if to
claw at the si-footer's face.

But becca just stepped aside, curled her long left arm around the woman's body
and used it to hurl the thirty five year old across the clearing. The smaller
woman crashed hard into the side of the truck, moaned and lay there.

I began to dismount. At once I heard cries and the sound of blows landing from
behind me. There was a crash, a crack, a cry and then a groan of pain,

I turned around. Both men had attacked Rebecca! But the rangy twenty-five
year-old was still upright. In fact she seemed to be holding her own.

She avoided a blow from Westerman as her long leg lanced out to hit him in the
side. The larger man groaned and reeled backward as Becca twisted a rising
uppercut into the other man's ribs. Becca's arms were so strong that I could
tell that each good blow that connected would do a lot of damage. So it
proved. The smaller man doubled over as she turned to slam three hard punches
into Westerman, who staggered backward clutching a broken nose..

Becca was practised and efficient in her punches. She didn't look flustered at
all. She knew she was powerful, and just applied that power to the task in
hand. She simply stayed a good distance rom her target, and just used her
reach to launch out with her long, densely muscled arms. Westerman was
momentarily disabled She turned her full force on the smaller man. To my
amazement, he didn't last more than thirty seconds as six big punches crashed
into every part of his body. The six-foot blonde turned away as he collapsed
to the ground moaning in pain. Just those few seconds had transformed him from
an ordinary human being into a bloodied mess. I gasped. His face
unrecognisable, his features distorted and swollen! He was bowed over almost
double, and couldn't stand.

And Rebecca was still full of punching. Westerman was still recovering from
her earlier blows. What happened next was not pleasant to watch. Rebecca
delivered one powerful blow to the base of his jaw. After that there was no
effective opposition. This wasn't even a fight. This was a beating as the tall
young woman sent seven more raking blows plowing into Westerman's face and
body. The brief, brutal onslaught left the tall man totally destroyed. I felt
quite sorry for him. He was crawling on all fours, blood pouring from his
face, and retching up the contents of his stomach onto the ground. There was
absolutely no fight at all left in either man.

The two men together were no match at all for an angry Rebecca.

Becca was flushed, but unbruised. her arms had done awesome damage. The woman
was crying and shaking. The guy was shaking and moaning. Becca dragged him to
his feet and threw him hard into the side of the truck. She was so strong. She
looked quite capable of handing out the same amount of punishment again if she
chose to. She picked up Westerman's rifle in her strong arms and snapped it in
two across her knee.

"Right." Becca said. "All three of you lie face down on the ground, your hands
behind your backs. I'm going to tie you up."

They obeyed at once. Rebecca was now in complete charge.

It was four days later when the three were released from the police cells in
town. Rebecca visited them on day three and agreed not to press charges so
long as they paid for all the damage they'd caused, left the county straight
away, and didn't come back.

The three were only too pleased to agree.