Kid Sister 2
by Alpesco
Ginny Muscles-in


I wasn't surprised to find my kid sister Ginny in the cellar. She liked to go
down there to work out with our dad's old weights and gym equipment. She'd
been a gymnast before she grew too tall. Now she'd begun something called
Sports Acrobatics - a sort of team gymnastics that required a lot of strength.

"Are you going to come and clean out your stuff?" I demanded. "Mom and dad
will be home in two days, and you still have a room filled with dirty
clothes."

"I'll see to it later, Rhiannon!" Ginny turned round to look down at me. At 14
years of age, she was already two inches taller than me at five foot ten. I so
disliked that, being three years older than her, at 17. I also hated it that
she had longer, blonder hair. She was wearing a tiny black crop top that not
only exposed her long, lithely muscled arms, but also a big stretch of flat
and marbled stomach above tiny white shorts. Her legs seemed endless, emerging
from her shorts like twin pillars, to taper down to sneakered feet. She'd
grown eight inches in the past year, and she had gained a lot of strength as
well. Ruiz, the handyman was still off work recovering from his clash with
Ginny three days ago. The only thing that had stopped him complaining to mom
and dad was that he did not want to admit that his injuries had been caused by
a fourteen-year-old girl.

"You've been putting it off for two days," I insisted. "You better go and
clean up your room now, and then get all your clothes laundered."

"I'm busy!" Ginny lay back on dad's weightlifting bench. She reached up to the
weight poised on its rack two feet above her, and lifted it off its support.
Ginny had really got into the free weights down here this year - weights that
our dad hadn't touched for at least ten years. She held the barbell high above
her chest for a minute, her long arms straight as pillars. The weight they
were supporting looked as if it should crush them, but it didn't. The black
iron plates hanging on each side of the thick steel bar looked very large and
very heavy.

"How much weight have you got on that bar?" I asked. "It looks too heavy!"

"I can handle it." Ginny said impatiently, lowering her arms under full
control to bring the weight slowly down until it almost touched her chest.
Then she stopped it.

I looked at the writing on the heavy plates. "You've got two 45 pound plates
on that bar," I said. "And two more at 25 pounds, plus a couple of little
ones. How much does the bar weigh?"

"Forty five pounds," Ginny's triceps hardened as her arms began to press the
heavy bar slowly back upward. "I'm not a baby any more. I can manage this."

"But that's nearly two hundred pounds..." I did the sums as Ginny's slender
arms drove the bar up to full extension, nearly three feet above her head. The
weight looked like it should crush her arms, but instead her long, lithe arms
were moving it up and down as if it was made of nothing heavier than wood.
Down the weight went again, as I watched, then smoothly up once more. "You
should have a spotter with heavy weights like that," I said.

"I told you, I can manage this, no trouble," the fourteen-year-old said with a
flash of irritation. Up the weight went again, rising smoothly as if by
hydraulics. "This isn't my top poundage. I'm just using this weight for rep
work." As if to make her point, she began pressing and lowering the weight a
lot faster, turning out a fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh rep in the space of
ten seconds. She began to slow a little for the eighth, ninth and tenth,
finally clunking the weight back into its support slot on the rack behind her
head, and sitting up.

"That was good, but I could use a few more sets," Ginny said, swinging her
arms.

"Stop that and listen to me!" I said. But again the fourteen-year-old ignored
me. She stood, reaching her long right arm up to grab a metal bar fixed across
the ceiling eight feet above the floor. As soon as her hand clamped round the
steel bar, her long arm flexed, drawing her whole body smoothly up with it off
the floor. I tried hard to conceal how impressed I was by this sheer power
move. There was no way I could even attempt that with one arm. Seeing me
watching, Ginny made a bicep with her free left arm as she pulled her body up
and up until her head was high above the bar, her chin a good three inches
clear of the top. Slowly she lowered herself again - and to my astonishment
repeated the process five more times, each time lowering herself to a loose
hang from the bar, and then performing a one-arm chin to a position well above
the bar.

"That's enough!" I said as she finished. "Dad left me in charge, and I'm
telling you to get your chores done!"

"I've got my left arm to do yet," Ginny answered, stretching both of her long
arms out wide, "Then I've asked Rod to come and take me for a drive in his new
car..."

"Rod?" My voice rose in outrage. Rod was my new 18 year-old boyfriend - or had
been until he had been dazzled by meeting Ginny three days ago. "What right
have you to go bothering Rod?"

"I wasn't bothering him," Ginny answered with a sneer. "He was very pleased to
come round. He should be here soon."

"Oh no," I said. "I'm calling him on his cellphone and telling him that
whatever you have planned is off. There's no way you're going out on a drive
with Rod."

I strode toward the steps. But Ginny must have stepped behind me, for suddenly
I felt myself grabbed from behind, her long arms encircling my waist and
trapping my arms at my sides. I tried to struggle free, but already her grip
was too tight. I couldn't move or free my arms. "Let go of me!"

"No." Ginny's voice was determined. "Rod isn't your property. He can do what
he likes." As she spoke, her long arms tightened their grip. Already the
pressure was uncomfortable.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you promise not to interfere."

"Rod's MY boyfriend!" I struggled to tear my arms free, but her grip was far
too tight. "You aren't going to spoil it!"

"My arms are real strong," Ginny sounded pleased at my failure to break her
grip. "You won't get free." To prove her point, she squeezed again, tightening
her grip. I gave an involuntary moan. It was starting to hurt now.

"How does that feel?" Ginny whispered in my ear. "I'm not letting you go until
you promise to leave Rod and me alone."

"No way!" I said, trying to resist. She was three years younger than me. I was
not going to let her mess things up with my new boyfriend.

"I can make you change your tune," Ginny said, and she squeezed again. Her
arms were long, leanly muscular, and appallingly strong. I gave a moan of pain
as they cut deep into my waist. I could only squirm helplessly in their grip
now. And it was getting really painful - but I couldn't let her know how much
it hurt.

"It could be fun to see just how hard I can crush," Ginny squeezed yet again,
tightening her steely grip around my waist, "Don't you think so, sis?"
Suddenly she straightened her long body, lifting my feet right off the ground
and holding me in front of her. This was a shock. I hadn't realised she had so
much strength in reserve. This was far more painful than I could have
imagined. My whole weight was being carried on my stomach and ribs.

"Ouuugh!" I groaned. "Let me go!"

"Give in yet?" Ginny asked, her voice steady. I was growing more alarmed. Her
grip was really hurting me now, yet there seemed to be no strain in her voice
at all.

"No...Oooouuugh! " I groaned again as my kid sister's strong arms tightened
their punishing grip even more.

I was finding it increasingly hard to breathe now. I was taking in the air in
fevered gasps, and still my 14 year-old sister did not seem to be weakening.

"I'm not through yet!" Ginny said. "Let's see just how much harder I can
squeeze if I put some real effort in."

"Owww. Owww. Owwww!" I couldn't hold back the cries of pain now. It felt as if
my stomach was on fire as she squeezed again. I couldn't breathe! I was
gasping and floundering. My legs kicked. I would have to give in...

I gave a strangled squeak of submission.

"Are you going to do as I say?" The arms relaxed, not enough to free me, but
just enough to allow me to speak.

"Yes. yes!" I gasped eagerly.

"Good." Ginny said without surprise, as if she'd known I'd give in all along.
The long arms uncoiled, releasing me. I gasped for air. I could barely stand.
I felt giddy and propped myself up against a table. This was so embarrassing!
I had surrendered to my kid sister! My waist hurt like you couldn't imagine. I
knew it would be bruised for days.

I turned to face the triumphant 14-year-old.

"Okay. Sit down over there," she ordered, pointing.

"No way." I shook my head. "I only said that so as you'd let me go. I'm still
putting a stop to this."

"Lying witch!" Ginny placed her hands on my shoulders, and slammed me back
hard into the basement wall, holding me there. Again I was startled by how
strong she was getting. I couldn't move forward or free myself against those
long, solidly-muscled arms.

Abruptly, she changed the position of her hands, placing them under my
armpits, and gripping tightly. "Owww!" I cried. The grip under my arms was
fierce and quite painful. Then, all of a sudden, her arms began to press
upward.

I felt a strong upward pressure under my arms, and my body began to respond to
the upward force - stretching, until suddenly I began to rise off the ground!
It was amazing. I could barely believe Ginny could do this! My feet rose off
the floor, my shoulders still pressed against the wall, and I began to rise.
Surely she didn't have this much strength? Yet it was happening! I was being
lifted steadily off the floor and higher up the wall! I weighed 130 pounds,
and she was just picking me off my feet as if I were a five-year-old! Within
moments I was dangling three feet off the floor at the end of her long,
athletically-muscled arms.

"My arms are a whole lot stronger than they used to be - even a few months
ago." Ginny announced, not even breathing hard. "This is a good training move
for sports acrobatics. I've done it to a few of the kids at school. Cool isn't
it?"

I only squawked in response. This really hurt. Each of her hands was like a
vice, cutting into the soft flesh beneath my shoulders. I hadn't realized when
Ginny grew this tall, that she had added more than the additional strength to
match her new height.

"Owwww!" I wailed. "Let me down."

"What are you going to say to pursuade me?"

"Look, I won't interfere, or try to stop Rod coming - I promise. Really. Cross
my heart."

"Okay." Ginny let me hang for a moment, and then lowered me back down to the
ground. She unlatched the steely grip from my underarms, and stretched out her
arms, flexing them for my benefit. They were so long, and they held a
surprising amount of muscle, which now looked stone-hard. Flexed, her upper
arms were impressive and looked nearly as wide as her face.

"Right. You can help me out." Ginny pointed across the cellar to where a four
feet long heavy leather punchbag swung from a thick rope. She pulled on a pair
of boxing gloves. "Hold the bag still from behind while I hit it."

I did as she said, holding the bag in place as the five foot ten 14 year-old
started leathering the heavy bag. And she wasn't putting in pat-a-cake
punches. Not at all. Her long arms were delivering startlingly hard blows that
I could feel even through the two foot thick bag, and she was dealing them out
in considerable number. It was all I could do to hold the heavy bag in place.
Ginny was so fit. She just didn't seem to tire, driving her long arms into the
leather bag twenty, thirty, forty times. And she didn't let up on the power.
The noise of the punches driving deep into the leather was deafening as it
echoed round the large cellar. I was sweating and breathless as I used my
whole bodyweight just trying to hold the bag still against the rain of
impacts.

"That's some punching!" A voice came from behind me. I turned to see the
six-foot tall figure of Rod, who had come downstairs, drawn by the noise.

"Hi Rod," I said, but he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were again drawn to my
tall young sister as she continued to crash solid blows into the giant bag.

"Would you like to try?" Ginny offered Rod a pair of gloves.

"Okay," the 180 pound, 18 year-old said, fastening on the gloves and beginning
to hit the bag.

"Or perhaps you'd prefer to spar?" Ginny said, grinning as she pointed to the
large square mat in the middle of the training space.

She and Rod squared up to each other, moving around on the mat. Rod threw a
couple of light feints, which Ginny evaded easily. She grinned as she threw a
couple of probing jabs of her own.

They both continued to feint, Rod kept missing Ginny by a mile as she swayed
expertly out of the way of his blows, but her arms moved so fast and had such
a long reach that she almost caught Rod several times. A left whistled past
his ear.

"Oww!" Rod gave a startled cry a fraction of a second later as a right from
Ginny hit him full in the face. He staggered back.

"Did I hurt you?" Ginny came forward with concern.

"No." he said. "That was cool! Hit as hard as you like."

"Okaaaayy.." Ginny grinned, took a half step back, then swung her long right
arm hard into his stomach, a lot harder. "Ooouuugghhh!" Rod's groan of pain
was even louder than the crump of the blow as he doubled over.

"Ooouuugghhh!" he groaned again, gasping for breath and still unable to
straighten-up, as Ginny looked on.

"Shit. That was hard!"

"Sorry!" Ginny said. "I didn't mean to really hurt you. I only hit with about
two thirds power."

"You're just 14, right?" He massaged his stomach tenderly.

Ginny nodded.

"That's some punch for a fourteen-year-old!" Rod was still short of breath and
wincing as he spoke. But he seemed even more impressed with my tall kid
sister. "So this is where you work out?"

"I do a lot more at the school gym," Ginny said. "I just do a bit of top-up
work down here."

"Ginny and me were having an argument," I broke in, "over her going for a trip
in your car."

"Oh yes," said Rod. "She asked for a lift. It's my pleasure. The car's just
outside."

Ginny walked up to Rod and grinned. "Maybe I ought to give YOU a lift first."
she smiled. "I get the feeling you enjoyed it last time."

"I..." Rod began.

"It's no problem. I like lifting people, especially people heavier than me."

Without waiting for an answer, she bent and slipped her right arm between the
six footer's legs, curling it round the top of his left leg. Then she lifted,
sweeping him easily up off the ground, her left arm supporting his shoulders.
I looked on as she raised him almost to shoulder height, cradling him in her
long arms as if he were just one of the rolled-up workout mats she often
carried round the house.

Rod gasped, clinging to Ginny's neck as as she stood tall at the foot of the
stairs. He must have weighed a good 180 pounds, but my kid sister seemed to be
carrying his weight effortlessly! He made a token attempt to struggle free,
but Ginny's grip was secure and showed no sign of failing. She turned and
carried him up the stairs out of the cellar, her long legs taking the stairs
two at a time. She strode on, carrying her burden up through the dining room
and the living room in to the entrance hallway.

By this time I had made up my mind. "Hey," I called out. "I'm sorry. But I
have to put my foot down. I'm responsible for Ginny. I'm not letting her go
off with you in a car. I'll have to phone mom and dad."

Ginny stopped and turned round, still holding the eighteen-year-old male
draped in her arms. It still looked surreal, this tall slender girl stood
bolt-upright, carrying a weight so much heavier than her. "Don't start this,"
she said, looking really angry.

"I'm going to make the call right now," I said, "if you don't put Rod down."

Ginny looked round, then strode through the archway to the kitchen. She
stopped in front of the old fireplace. Above it was a heavy shelf, six feet
high, and two feet wide, used to store tablecloths. With a soft grunt of
effort, Ginny raised Rod even higher in her arms, and laid him down on his
back on the broad shelf. She slid her arms free. "Stay there a minute." she
whispered.

Rod could do little else. There was less than two feet of space between the
top of the ledge and the low ceiling. He was laid on his back on top of the
thick wooden shelf, over six feet up.

"Hey!" He protested. "Let me down!" Unable to sit up, he could either roll off
the top of the ledge and crash painfully to the floor, or stay where he was.

Realizing that Ginny probably intended to deal with me next, I struck first. I
grabbed my tall kid sister around the waist from behind, trapping her arms, as
she had mine. She struggled. But I had both her arms firmly trapped. I linked
my arms and tried to crush harder, but her waist was so hard I couldn't make
any impression. A thick wall of marbled muscle resisted me. I could feel it
rippling under my arms as she twisted her body to try to break free. I
strained to crush harder, but it was like trying to crush a brick wall as
Ginny tensed her stomach muscles into an immovable barrier.

And now I felt her strong arms fighting mine. I had the advantage but it was
still a huge effort to hold her.

"Let go of me." Ginny said, her voice menacing.

"No." I resisted. But the force from her trapped arms was tremendous. I could
feel my arms being forced apart! It was all I could do to keep my grip.

There was another powerful surge from her arms. They were so strong! She
grunted as her arms put in a third surge. I gave a cry as my grip broke, and
my arms began to separate. Her long arms continued to push outward, and I just
couldn't hold them. She was free of my grip now, and turned round to face me.
Ginny looked mad. Her right arm drew back, fist primed.

"Please, Ginny, don't hit me!" I begged, shielding my face with my arms. I
knew that fist could do horrible damage if it struck with anything like full
force..

But instead, she caught my arm in hers, and twisted it up behind my back. I
was howling in pain. She was out of my class strengthwise.

"Please stop, Ginny," I begged. "I'll do what you say."

"You'll make no calls. You'll tell no one about this. You'll stay here, now,
and clean up the house. In fact you can do my laundry."

I nodded, still under the threat of that now partially-relaxed, but still
poised, right fist. I didn't want to do anything that would make my kid sister
unleash it.

"Rod!" I appealed to the figure still lying stretched out on the high shelf
where Ginny had placed him. "Won't you do anything?"

"There's not much I can do from up here, Rhiannon," he said. "Little Ginny has
us pretty much where she wants us."

"That's the way I like it," Ginny said.

"But best let your sister come," said Rod from his observation point. "It's
probably better that way."

"All right," Ginny released me. "You can come along - but you sit in the
back."

"Can I come down now?" Rod asked.

"Okay," Ginny was in smile mode again. She turned, raising her arms and
forcing them under his body to lift him off the high shelf. She didn't lower
him to the ground however, but kept him held in her arms at about chest
height.

Turning, she carried Rod out through the front door and across to the red
convertible in the driveway, leaning across to place him in the drivers seat.

"You can sit in the back," she said to me as she vaulted in beside my supposed
boyfriend. I did so.

Rod drove us out of town, stopping at a small old gas station.

As Rod went off to pay for the fuel, a middle-aged man approached us. He was
about five nine, in overalls. It looked like he worked in the garage
somewhere. "I know you." He said. "You're the Gordon kids."

"That's right," Ginny said, stepping out of the car.

"Well. My name's Sanson. You won't know me, but your father put me out of
business. Ten years ago, with his predatory business practices . I lost every
single penny I had. And this is the best job I could get. He's a blood-sucking
leech." He poked a finger repeatedly in Ginny's chest. "A piece of trash - and
so are all his family!"

"Don't do that!" Ginny said, her long arm launching out to push him away.

Suddenly enraged, the guy came back at her shoving her back toward the car.
"Stop that!" I cried.

But Ginny had already reacted. Crack. Crack. Crack! Ginny's fists lashed out
in a flurry of blows. I gasped. Her long, bare arms hit so fast, the flaring
muscles at her shoulders bunching and striating. The man stumbled backward,
bleeding from his nose and a long cut on his left cheek.

"You better leave." Ginny said. She looked very stern and uncompromising. She
could look very cold and severe when she wanted. And now she wanted, using all
her chilling contempt on this interloper.

"You little bitch!" He took an angry step forward. Ginny frowned, and
delivered four more punches. They were so fast, yet really harsh. The flurry
of blows only lasted about three seconds, but the sound of them hitting home
was like four bullets being fired. The man didn't even have time to raise his
arms to protect himself. He gave a series of startled yelps, and staggered
backward. When he drew to a halt about six feet farther back, he was swaying,
as if having some trouble remaining upright. And he looked a good deal worse
than he had done, seconds before. His face was bruised and distorted,
streaming with blood from several new cuts.

"You little bitch!" he slurred between bloodied lips. "I'm gonna kill you..."

"Let me put a stop to this.." Rod ran up.

"No," Ginny held up her left hand. "I can take care of this bozo." Ginny
stepped aside from his charge, then turned and administered two shattering
punches with all the force of her five feet ten inch tall body behind them.
Crooooom! Crummmpp! I gasped as the first big blow knocked him reeling
backward, the second took him right off his feet, sending him sprawling to the
ground.

The guy looked startled and surprised. he tried to staunch a flow of blood
from his mouth and nose. This was the second full-grown man I'd seen the
14-year-old take out this week. And the guy hadn't touched her! "Please! No
more!" he said, his voice shaking. "I've had enough!"

"Don't you ever talk bad about my family again!" she said fiercely, staring
down at the bleeding fifty-year-old. "Or I'll give you a hell of a lot more!"
She turned away and strode back toward us, stepping over the passenger door,
into the car, and we drove away. I looked back to see her assailant crawling
painfully back to his knees.

"Wow! That was awesome!" Rod said. "He didn't even touch you!" The
eighteen-year-old was so impressed it sickened me. "You are some girl!"