The Capture
by Alpesco
A young Brionn catches a trespasser.


"You shouldn't be here," the girl said. "This is private property."

It was beginning to get dark, and I was surprised to see that it was a kid
speaking. She was just about five feet tall and thinly-built, wearing jeans
and a red sleeveless top. She stood glaring at me from the lakeside, her face
deadly serious for someone who only looked to be around eleven years old.

"I'm trying to get to Springfield," I said. "I got lost. The ground is so
marshy around here." I tried again to extract myself from the mud that had
almost swallowed my shoes, but failed.

"You shouldn't be on this land." The girl looked at me critically. "It belongs
to Mr Drake, my father's boss. Who are you?"

"I'm uh.. Lyndsay Doyle," I made up a name quickly. "I'm an art student." I
held up my slim document case. "I train at Springfield College. I've been
scouting sites to draw. Can you show me the way to the road?"

The girl came closer. She had dark blonde hair which hung to just below her
shoulders. "You look too old to be a college student," she stared into my
face. "You look around thirty."

"Mature student." I nodded. "Started late."

"Oh." The girl reached out and caught my outstretched hand in both hers. Then
she gave a sudden pull toward her. I was surprised how strong this
slightly-built kid was. Her pull hauled me right out of the mud and on to
slightly firmer ground, leaving one of my shoes buried deep in the ooze.

"Damn!" I said, hanging on to my precious document case as the kid steadied
me. She had surprisingly long, angular arms with long rangy muscles coiled
along them.

"My name's Brionn," she added.

"Thanks." I nodded. "Now can you show me the way back to the road?"

"It's getting late," the girl looked at me with suspicion. "You'd do better to
come up to the big house."

"No." I said quickly, pointing roughly southward. "The road's fine. Is it this
way?" I began to move off toward the trees.

"The road's out there. But there's a lot more swampy ground to cover." The kid
watched me as I limped onward with one shoe on and one off. "You'll never make
it like that..."

"It's okay," I said, just as my left leg sank nine inches into deep ooze. I
struggled to pull myself free, but I was trapped.

The kid walked slowly up to me. I felt one of her long arms curl around the
back of my knees while the other came round to support my back. She yanked
powerfully upward, and my feet were wrenched sharply out of the mud. Again I
was surprised by the amount of strength the girl possessed. I was even more
astonished as the kid followed through her upward wrench, and I found myself
lifted clean off the ground, my entire weight cradled in Brionn's long arms.

For an instant I couldn't believe it. The girl. This kid out of grade school
had somehow picked me up in her arms!, I was a twenty-eight-year-old, yet she
was somehow holding my hundred and thirty pounds suspended three feet above
the ground in her long arms! I tried to get back to my feet, afraid she would
hurt herself, or drop me in the mud. But the kid's arms were amazingly strong.
They felt like they were made of iron. They was no give in them at all! In
fact they held me so tightly that I couldn't wriggle free. I was forced to lie
there in her arms, like being in a hammock. I was surprised to find myself
feeling remarkably secure in their grip. There didn't seem to be the slightest
chance of this kid dropping me.

"You can put me down now," I said after a minute.

"No need." The girl grinned, and began to walk forward. "I'll just take you
over on to firmer ground."

"You're not strong enough," I protested. "How much do you weigh - eighty
pounds?"

"A little bit more," she answered, speaking easily as she carried me up under
the trees. "But I'm real strong - specially my arms. Back on the farm I've
carried sheep this way for over a mile. Last month I carried a hundred and
twenty pound calf through four fields to the barn. I even picked up my uncle
once, and he weighs at least one hundred and sixty."

"One hundred and sixty pounds!" I said. "No way."

"A lot of people say that - but I'm a lot stronger than I look," the girl
said. "I do gymnastics and martial arts, and I just love to lift people."

"It's okay to put me down now," I said, still worried that whatever this kid
claimed, she would be forced to drop me soon.

"There's another marshy stretch here," the girl said. She must have been
carrying my weight for five minutes solid now, and still she showed no sign of
weakening. She wasn't even breathing that hard. Even my six-foot-tall
boyfriend, John, had never carried me in his arms anything like this far. This
kid was incredible.

We went down a slope onto another waterlogged path. For several minutes I
heard the girl's boots squelch through thick mud. But my rescuer was still
holding me securely when she stepped back up onto firmer ground.

"That last part was hard work." She at last allowed her steely right arm to
relax, letting my feet drop back to the ground. "My feet were sinking right
into the mud carrying your weight. But it makes a cool workout."

I turned to look at her. She was stretching, and windmilling her long arms to
restore the circulation, making them seem even longer. They were impressive
arms for a kid her age. They would have looked good on a sixteen-year-old.
Pumped full of blood from her exertions, the muscles looked fuller and heavier
than before.

Seeing my gaze, Brionn halted her swinging, and stretched both arms out wide.
They were really long. The girl was just over five feet tall, but her
well-muscled arms easily stretched to five feet seven or eight from fingertip
to fingertip. Her reach was impressive. And now, having caught my attention,
she abruptly brought both arms up into a full flex.

Despite myself, my mouth fell open. Two big, blocky biceps gathered from out
of nowhere in the middle of her arms. Within a heartbeat, each solid muscle
had swollen to the size of an ostrich egg - but so much harder and more dense.
And the solid biceps were balanced by hard, bunching deltoids that rose above
her shoulders.

I thought that was the climax of her display, and it was a pretty impressive
one. But she suddenly poured in another surge of effort, continuing to tense
those long arms of hers. And the rounded biceps expanded a further half inch
in circumference. Peaking and etching themselves into rock-hard solidness as I
watched. I was amazed. I hadn't expected to see muscles like that on an
eleven-year-old. Her biceps were just so large - bigger than her clenched
fists. Even with all the length of Brionn's arms to conceal themselves in,
those biceps looked startlingly big.

"Impressive, huh?" the girl smirked.

I nodded. "Those are big arms for a kid!"

"That's because I'm not a kid!" Brionn frowned.

"Are we near the road yet?" I asked.

"No." She shook her head, trying to peer through the gloom as she shook out
her long arms once more. "It's getting too dark to reach the road now. You'd
better stay here till it gets light." The girl pointed to a small building, a
hundred yards away, that I hadn't noticed in the darkness. "That's the old
groundsman's house. It's still kept furnished."

"No," I said firmly. "I can't stay here. Just point me to the road. I'll make
it on my own."

The girl shook her head. "You can't. It's too dangerous in the dark."

"I'll decide what's too dangerous," I snapped, starting to walk in the
direction I thought the road lay.

"No. Stop." The girl stood in front of me to block my way.

Annoyed, I tried to push past her. But she simply braced her long, slender
legs against me - and, to my horror, stopped me dead! I pushed forward as hard
as I could - but it made no difference. It was like trying to push aside a
five hundred pound ox. I was shocked. I looked in front of me and saw this
thin, spindly girl, but I felt this impossible strength holding me back. I
pushed and pushed, but the kid didn't give an inch.

"You're real weak!" the kid snorted, her fingers clamping about my wrists as
her arms held mine outstretched.

"Why you..." I pressed forward even more fiercely, trying to force her long
arms away from me. But despite the fact that I was six inches taller than her,
her arms were just as long as mine, and had a strength comparable to their
size. Now they simply set like stone, and I couldn't force them back even a
fraction of an inch!

"Let me go!" I gasped in exasperation. "I'm walking right out of here, and I
won't let you stop me!"

"Won't you?" The girl said, and suddenly her arms began to press forward. They
were so strong! I saw the muscles flicker and harden along their length. The
kid gave a triumphant smirk as my arms began to quiver and shake as they
struggled to resist the intense power hers were now applying.

I was appalled. This was an eleven year old kid! I was twenty-eight years old,
dammit!

But I could do nothing to hold back the kid's powerful arms. It was so
galling! I fought and struggled, but I was helpless to prevent my arms being
pressed inexorably backward, down and behind my back. This was humiliating! I
simply couldn't prevent the girl's long arms closing about my waist.

"Like I told you," the kid said matter-of-factly. "I'm real strong. You better
just quit struggling."

With that, her knees bent, and she pulled my body across her left shoulder.
Straightening, she heaved me right off the ground. And suddenly I was folded
across her shoulder, my upper body hanging down her back as she carried me up
toward the house.

"There's another half mile of swamp between here and the road," the kid's
voice seemed completely unstressed as she carried me. "You'd never have made
it through after dark." She halted at the doorway, fiddling with the lock to
open the door before setting me back on my feet.

"I am NOT going in that place!" I stormed, even more furious now I had been
humiliated like this. "I'm going home NOW!"

"You are just unbelievably stupid.." The kid's arms wrapped themselves round
my waist from behind. And this time they gripped a hell of a lot tighter than
before. The pressure was really uncomfortable, my arms trapped at my sides.
"You know what?" she said, "I'm beginning to get tired of your attitude." Her
arms tightened again, even more fiercely, and I let out a grunt of pain as her
stony forearms gouged deep into my waist.

"Oooooouuuw!" I cried, finding it much harder to breathe.

"Come to think of it," the girl went on, "I think you're WAY too eager to get
out of here. I think I'm going to need to ask you a lot more questions."

"I'm not answering any... Oooooaauuuughhhh!" My words were brought to an
abrupt halt as Brionn's arms tightened again, in an incredibly harsh
power-squeeze about my waist.

I was in real pain now, sharp and continuous, as her long arms crushed my
elbows into my sides, constricting my waist so hard that I found myself
struggling to tear myself free. But I was held fast prisoner.

Shit! This girl was so strong! It seemed as if all my internal organs were
being crushed into a tangled mass. I could feel my lower ribs bowing and
distorting under the force of the constriction. I waited for the crushing
pressure to ease-off, for those long arms of hers to relax their grip by even
by a fraction - but it didn't happen. Her arms had set like steel. Finding it
really hard to breathe, I began to panic, desperately trying to tear my arms
free, but to no avail. Her arms were like steel.

And, far from weakening, those powerful arms squeezed again! I cried out loud
as the pain in my ribs, my stomach, my chest intensified. I felt my internal
organs being forced up into my chest, driving eighty percent of the air out of
my lungs. My lower ribs were bending and creaking, screaming in pain. I feared
they might snap at any moment. And there was still no hint of that iron grip
slackening.

"Let... Let me go!" I gasped.

The kid gave a soft grunt. And, impossibly, she put in another crushing surge
of pressure! The pain was unbelievable! I tried to scream. But no sound came
from my constricted lungs. My insides seemed about to burst, and I was barely
able to breathe. Just as I thought it could get no worse, she straightened her
back, and hoisted me right off my feet! Turning, she carried me into the empty
house.

I was in far too much pain now to offer even token resistance, gasping
desperately for each thimbleful of air as the girl hauled me in to a large,
sparsely furnished parlor, where she halted.

Mentally I prayed that the girl would put me down and ease the terrible,
crushing grip around my waist. I was moaning with the pain now. Surely she
couldn't maintain this incredible pressure much longer?

But still this frighteningly powerful kid showed no sign of releasing me. The
pain was agonising. I felt utterly helpless. Surely she had to weaken soon? I
felt her unclasp her hands from her forearms, and for a grateful moment I
thought she was about to loosen her grip. But instead, unbelievably, her arms
applied another monstrous surge of pressure!

I felt one of my ribs begin to give way. My insides, already riven with
cramps, now felt as if they would burst under the intense pressure. My lungs
were paralysed. I felt giddy, panicking as I found that I simply couldn't
breathe. The room started to spin... I felt sick.. Everything went dark...

There was an oil lamp burning on a table.

For a moment I wondered where I was. All I knew was my midriff hurt like hell,
it was painful to breathe, and I had a splitting headache. Then I realised
that I was in the same large room. But I was lying, stretched out, on a thin
carpet. The outside door was shut and the windows were covered by green
drapes. I tried to get up, then I saw the kid, standing six feet away, looking
down at me.

"Whu.." I began. Shit. It hurt even worse to try to talk.

"You've been down there about an hour," Brionn said matter-of-factly. "I
squeezed you out."

"You what?" I gasped, unable to believe what this kid claimed to have done.

"I told you, My arms are real strong." The girl clasped her hands and
stretched her arms out in front of her as if to let me see the snaking play of
the muscles along their length. "I can bearhug just about anyone your size
until they go out. But I guess you know all about that now." She flexed her
right arm to bring up that big, mini-football of a bicep once more, letting me
admire it for a moment. "And now that we're alone and quiet, I want you to
answer the questions I asked: Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I told you." I wheezed.

"Don't give me that shit about you being an artist. You couldn't have come on
to the ranch the way you said. Your shoes are too clean."

I looked down. Of course, the kid was right. I hadn't realised how swampy this
way would be when I invented my story. "I must have stumbled on another way,"
I said.

"There isn't any other way," the girl frowned, "..except through the big
house. So who are you? And why don't you want to be found here?"

"I'm not answerable to you," I said, forcing myself to rise. It wasn't easy.
Everything from my hips to my lower ribs was a source of pain. I winced as I
felt the painful bruising round my midriff. Even my internal organs seemed to
hurt. "I don't have to tell you anything!"

"You better tell me anything I want to know." The girl put her hands on her
hips as she watched me stumble to my feet.

"No way!" I said, angry again. "I'm walking out of here now."

I tried to get to the door, but hadn't got three paces before the kid's hand
caught my right shoulder and turned me back to face her. Almost instinctively,
I raised my left arm to threaten her.

Big mistake. Stupid! The kid was just so fast! I hadn't time to blink before
her long right arm came searing round out of nowhere, like a flail - to drive
the flat of her hand hard into the left side of my face.

I saw a flash of light as the huge blow crashed into me. The sheer force of
the slap sent me stumbling two paces sideways. If I hadn't been stopped by the
wall, I'm sure I'd have fallen over.

Then came the wave of pain. It was blistering - as if a pint of boiling oil
had been poured down the left side of my face.

I screamed, despite myself. I couldn't believe it hurt so much! How could this
kid hit so hard? I felt my face bruising, swelling, the pain persisting, worse
than anything I could remember. My lip was starting to swell. I tasted blood
on my tongue.

"Has that taught you your lesson yet?" I heard the kid's voice through the
wave of pain. "I may be smaller than you but these arms of mine are real good
equalisers.."

Incandescent with pain and fury, I swung at the kid wildly. But she ducked
contemptuously beneath my blow, even as that long right arm of hers swung back
to administer retribution. I knew what was coming, and I could do nothing to
stop it. I didn't have time to move, or duck, or beg her to spare me. Her arm
whistled through the still air as it came blazing home, driving in another
searing slap. I screamed out loud as it exploded into my face, right on top of
the last one.

And this slap felt nearly twice as hard as the first. The pain was
unbelievable. I screamed again, as the second wave of pain cut in. I saw
stars. I nearly passed out, staggering backward, my face ablaze. I stumbled to
my knees.

I felt my arm twisted harshly behind me as the girl virtually dragged me back
to my feet. Then, as if to further demonstrate the strength in her arms, she
hurled me fiercely sideways into the wall. I crashed into it so hard, it hurt
my hip and shoulder, my head crashing into the plasterwork. Before I could
recover, she had hold of me again. And again I was hurled across the room,
smashing harshly into the far wall. She was just so strong. She just had to
brace her long legs, and I couldn't do anything to resist her.

This kid was whipping my ass, and there was nothing I could to stop her.

"Please. Please stop!" I heard myself begging.

"If I do," the girl's voice ordered, "you'll do exactly as I say."

"Yes." I gasped. I couldn't believe I was capitulating to this kid. But I
couldn't fight her. I hadn't got in one blow that hurt her. She was too fast
and so unbelievably strong.

"Try anything. Disobey one order I give you, and I'll slap you silly - only
this time a lot harder."

"Harder?" I gasped in disbelief. My face was still blazing with pain. I could
feel the bruises puffing-up and stiffening. I really, really did not want her
to hit me like that again. She was completely dominant now - and she knew it.

"Kneel." she ordered. I did so.

"I don't know what you're doing here," she frowned, "but you are going to tell
me." She pointed to the document case I had been carrying. "Open it and show
me what's inside it - now!"

"I shouldn't be doing this," I muttered, searching my pocket for the key, then
nervously prising the flat wallet open. The girl was glaring at me, stern and
unflinching, in a manner that made me feel completely under her authority. I
couldn't meet her gaze. I just drew out the copied sheets of training times
and statistics for nearly every major racehorse in Mr Drake's stables.

"Not many sketches here." The girl glanced through them. "Just information on
racehorses. So that's what you are - a spy?" Her contemptuous look
intensified. "Here to get training information on Mr Drake's horses. Who is it
for?"

I said nothing. Revealing my employer would complicate things, and might be
dangerous. I looked away.

"I said, who is this information for?" The girl's voice was irresistable.
"Look at me," she said. I did so.

"Now stand up, and come here."

My stomach tied itself in knots. I did not want to be back in striking range
of that big right arm of hers. It could hit so hard..

"The stuff's for a man in town," I spluttered. "He said he'd give me five
hundred dollars, if I got into the training stable and got him good
information on which of the horses were good prospects in the races. I went to
the house, then just copied all the stuff I could find. I took a few
photographs of the horses, then tried to sneak out through the woods."

"And who's the man who hired you?" Brionn demanded. "What's his name?"

"I don't... I don't know.."

"You really better tell me his name," Brionn said, stretching her arms
ominously. "You really do not want me to have to hit you again. I can make you
hurt so bad..."

"No. No." I said quickly. "His name's Mr Duncan. "He runs most of the magazine
booths in town. But he'll never admit he hired me." There was a silence. "So
what are you going to do?" I asked.

"Well, you're going to tell your story to Mr Drake as soon as it's light," the
girl said. "He'll decide what to do."

"Can't you just let me go?" I pleaded. "You have the papers back, so no harm's
been done."

The girl frowned. "You sneaked in here. You stole information. You lied to me.
And you think I'm gonna let you go? No way. We'll stay here till someone comes
from the big house or it gets light enough to walk back. And if you've got any
idea of trying to get away, forget it. You haven't seen me really angry yet,
and you do not want to. Now just so you don't get any ideas about running off,
you better just take off your jacket and your jeans. Leave them on the floor,
and you can lie on that sofa." She pointed.

This was so embarrassing. The kid clearly meant business. And looking at her
ninety pound form, I couldn't believe I was frightened to disobey her. I felt
a complete coward as I decided to obey the eleven-year-old, stripping off my
outer layer of clothing. The kid seemed unsurprised at my choice. She seemed
quite used to having adults obey her.

"Have you done this before?" I asked.

"I can beat up on a lot of grown-ups, if that's what you mean," Brionn said.
"I do kickboxing, karate, kung-fu, I wrestle, and I'm way stronger than a lot
of full-grown women. That makes me pretty tough to beat. You wanna see how
hard I can hit?"

Without waiting for an answer, she curled her right hand into a fist, then
sent it screaming around through 180 degrees, to slam into the wooden base of
the staircase directly behind her. It all happened so fast - in the space of a
heartbeat. There was a deafening crash as her fist drove into the hardwood
pannelling, and then, to my surprise, tore right into it, shaking the whole
staircase as it cracked the three-quarter inch thick wood.

I was astonished by the power of the kid's blow. It had struck like an
exploding mortar-shell, the noise echoing round the confined room, and the
wood panelling was cracked for at least a foot on either side of the
indentation where Brionn's fist had struck. As if inspired by the potency of
her first punch, the girl drew back her arm once more, and then powered two
more shattering punches into the base of the stairway. The noise was even
louder than that of the first blow, two huge explosions of sound, combined
with the noise of screaming and tearing wood.

The girl stepped back, with a satisfied look on her face to admire the jagged,
eighteen-inch hole in the thick panelling that her blows had left. My mouth
fell open. This was one hell of a powerful kid, and I did not want to give her
any excuse to land a punch like that on me..

It was then that the outside door suddenly opened. "What the hell are you
doing in here?" A tall man strode angrily into the room, staring at me. "I've
been waiting for you in the car for the past four hours!"

It was Mr Duncan. He wore his usual brown suit, except his shoes, and the
bottom of his pants, were covered in mud.

"I was stopped by this kid..." I began.

Duncan looked round and stared at the eleven-year-old. "This kid stopped you?"
He said in disbelief. "You kidding me? Now have you got the stuff?"

"It's there." I pointed to the document case.

"Come on then. Let's get out of here!"

"Oh no you don't," said Brionn. "Neither of you are leaving."

Duncan ignored her. "Come on!" He turned for the door, beckoning to me to
follow.

"Stay right where you are!" the girl glared at me.

There was something in the stare the kid gave me that made me obey at once. I
very much wanted to follow Mr Duncan, but I found that I was more afraid of
angering this girl. I couldn't believe I was letting an eleven-year-old
intimidate me, but I stayed still.

"What are you standing there for?" Duncan turned and shouted at me.

"I..." I took a hesitant half-step forward - then stepped back again as
Brionn's face grew darker.

"Neither of you are leaving," Brionn said, striding over to me and seizing my
document case.

She bent and with the case hanging from her left hand, simply bent her knees
and picked me up in those strong arms of hers once more. I didn't dare resist,
and in any case I was used to the kid carrying me now. I felt surprisingly
secure in her long arms as she turned away from Mr Duncan and strode toward
the staircase.

"Hey!" Duncan looked on with disbelief as this five foot tall eleven-year-old
weighing less than ninety pounds, picked up this five eight, hundred and
thirty pound, twenty-eight-year-old and carried her away like a life-size rag
doll.

As Brionn started to climb the stairway, Duncan suddenly unfroze. "Give me the
case!" he roared, charging forward.

Putting me down, half-way up the stairway, Brionn turned to face him. "You
better stop shouting, and sit down quietly," she said, "..until someone comes
from the big house to take you in."

"What?" Duncan exploded, striding forward. "Just give me that case, and pray I
don't decide to kick the crap out of you!"

I knew the girl had gone too far now. She had beaten me, but this was an
angry, six-foot tall man. She had no chance against him.

But the kid did not seem to realise this. As Duncan strode forward, she ran
down the first three steps, then launched herself into a flying leap,
projecting herself straight at his chest, right leg first. Her right heel
slammed into him hard, mid-chest, and the astonished bookmaker fell back,
thrown backward by the force of the girl's flying kick. He hit the floor hard,
Brionn on top of him. The kid fell too, but rolled quickly to her feet.

He sat up - just in time for his head to meet a spun kick from Brionn's right
foot that sent his head crashing back to the floor once more. He groaned in
pain and fury as his head struck the oak floorboards.

So far the girl had got in all the blows, and Duncan was bruised and angry on
the floor. However he was a strong man, very angry and very dangerous. Brionn
fell back a few paces.

"You little bitch!" Duncan roared as he scrambled back to his feet. "I'm going
to tear your little blonde head off!"

He charged at the retreating kid, who raced across the room with the angry
Duncan in pursuit. As she reached the wooden coffee-table, she turned, and
bent to one side. Her hands grabbed the end of the heavy teak table as she
swung her whole body round to face her pursuer. Her arms tore the heavy table
off the ground, swinging it round after her like a giant club.

I gasped as the seven-foot-long coffee table rose and swung round to smash
straight into the advancing Duncan. I was astonished. The table must weigh
fifty pounds, but the kid had swung it round like a fly swat.

There was a huge crack as the table hit. The large man gave a cry of surprise
and pain, his forward momentum abruptly halted by the heavy and unexpected
impact. Duncan was sent staggering backward with a loud groan.

And the kid wasn't finished yet. Before the table could fall back to the
ground, Brionn had run forward, propelled herself into the air, and delivered
a huge straight-legged kick to the center of the falling table. It impacted at
Duncan's waist-height with a loud crack. Again I was astonished by the force
and noise of the impact as Brionn's long right leg uncoiled into the table,
smashing it back hard into Duncan's face and body. The amount of power this
kid could generate was amazing! The large man let out another roar of pain as
the table broke in half under the force of the kid's flying kick. Duncan's
body, along with the remains of the table, was hurled backward, to crash into
the wall.

Brionn landed neatly on the floor, surveying the damage she'd done with
satisfaction. The two halves of the table lay strewn of the floor, and a
reeling, bloodied Duncan was trying to shake his head clear.

"I'll kill you!" Duncan roared, lumbering forward again. But he had been
visibly slowed by the succession of blows, and the kid was simply too fast for
him. Speeding across the room, she placed the large sofa between them. Then,
she turned and ran toward him. Vaulting the sofa, she launched herself through
the air toward him.

Taken by surprise, Duncan had no time to react as her long legs clamped around
his body at chest height and locked tight, pinning his arms tightly to his
sides. The bookmaker was still on his feet, but now he was supporting all of
Brionn's weight, even as her legs held his arms trapped. The girl's own arms,
however, were perfectly free. She demonstrated this by raising them up on
either side of her. With a grin of satisfaction, she tensed, making her
alarmingly large biceps reappear once more.

Then, ending her impromptu bicep display, Brionn turned her attention back to
Duncan. With a whoop, she began to rain fierce blows down onto his unguarded
head and face.

Even after all I'd seen, I was appalled at how hard this eleven-year-old girl
could hit. Crack! Cracck! Cracckk! CRACCK! CRACCKK! CRACCKKKK! CRACCCKKKK!!
The harsh sound of Brionn's punches rang across the room. Each blow seemed
louder than the one before, as they echoed fiercely back from the walls.

I was appalled to realise that, imprisoned by her legs, the larger man was
completely unable to protect himself from the younger girl's punches. He was
her prisoner, his arms and torso wrapped up in her long strong legs, while her
long arms could hit him as they pleased. Each hard blow that hit, now drew a
deep groan from the staggering six-footer - and the fierceness of the blows
was startling!

The kid hit so hard! Her long, evenly-muscled arms powered each heavy blow in
like a mortar shell. The kid was twisting her whole upper body into each big
punch. Twisting her torso through 180 degrees, her long arms were able to
generate an astonishing amount of power. She powered in blows number six,
seven, eight and nine... And, far from growing weaker, each blow seemed harder
and heavier than the one before it.

Before my eyes, Duncan's face became a swollen mass of bruises. There was a
broad stream of blood now, running down from his hairline, and another pouring
from below his eye. My employer was roaring with pain and frustration now,
unable to free himself from Brionn's long, strong legs, nor to halt the
unrelenting hail of punches from her powerful arms. The much larger man
staggered across the room, still bearing his limpet-like burden.

I gasped. The kid's arms were really damaging him! I would never have believed
it possible, but the kid was beating him! The guy was six feet tall and
stronger than her, but she had out-thought him and out-fought him. Her speed
had helped her, but that would not have been enough if her strength had not
been great enough for her blows to hurt him and drain his strength. He could
hardly see for the blood pouring from his face now. I heard his nose break.
There was another huge crack as a heavy punch tore into his left cheek. He
stumbled, but remained standing. Then, another big punch hit, and, incredibly,
Duncan fell heavily to his knees, Brionn still on top of him, her strong legs
coiled round his body, holding his arms captive.

I noticed the muscles on the girl's long legs tense as she poured on the
crushing power into his chest. She just didn't seem to tire. Duncan groaned as
her legs tightened painfully around his chest. Her arms powered two more heavy
punches into his head, and he collapsed to the floor.

The kid sat there, her legs still round him as he lay prone beneath her. She
sent another punch into the nape of his neck as her legs squeezed again like
twin pythons. I heard a loud crack as his right arm suddenly bent backward at
an odd angle. She was just so strong! Her powerful arms powered in again, and
then again, and Duncan was still.

I could hardly believe it as Brionn at last uncoiled her sinuously muscular
legs from around Duncan's body, and stood up above her prone victim. Duncan
remained still. The kid had put him out! She had beaten the six-foot man into
unconsciousness! The combination of her powerful legs and her unrelenting
punches, she had knocked this full-grown man unconscious, breaking at least
one arm and several other bones in the process!

I watched as Brionn used his necktie to tie his ankles together, and a piece
torn from his shirt to bind his arms behind his back. Only then did I realise
that I could perhaps have escaped, while Brionn and Mr Duncan were still
fighting. Now it was too late. I dared not try anything now. This kid could
beat me to a pulp anytime she wanted, and we both knew it. Brionn ordered me
to search Duncan's pockets. I did so, giving her his valables to sort through.

Duncan had only just come round an hour later, when the men from the big house
came for us, just after dawn. I could see the guys were really impressed by
the kid's feat in taking both of us down. For the two of us, a trip to the
sheriff's office was the only thing we had to look forward to.