The Dominant Kid Sister
by Alpesco
Ginny shows who's boss.


I looked across at the five foot ten inch blonde as her long arm brushed her
hair in the hallway mirror. It was hard to believe that this was Ginny, my
fourteen year-old kid sister. Slender and willowy, with long legs and arms,
she was already a good two inches taller than me. I was three years older than
her, at 17, and her height advantage was really annoying.

Ginny was wearing a pair of faded hipster jeans with a designer motif and a
broad chrome-studded belt. Above the belt rose a stretch of flat, marbled
stomach, emphasizing her long narrow waist. In fact she seemed all waist, her
body long and slim as it rose to the red and blue bikini top which was all
that she was wearing above the waist. Above the bikini top her body remained
slender, although it widened from side to side into a surprisingly broad pair
of shoulders, from which hung two long, lithely muscled arms. Ginny had only
recently got so tall. She'd grown eight inches in the past year, and she had
gained an awful lot of strength as well.

Ginny put down the brush and walked across to the large punchbag that hung
from a beam in the ceiling of the adjoining activity room. She began to hit
the eighty pound leather bag. Her punches looked bored and lazy, but the loud
noise as the blows crashed in told a different story. The crump of blows soon
filled the room, echoing out along the hall to where I sat in the open living
area.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack! The sound was starting to drown out the TV
as the heavy bag rocked and buckled on its steel chain. I turned up the
volume, but it was no use. Crack. Crackk. Crackk. Crackk. Craccckk! Kroooomm!
The noise was getting steadily louder as my kid sister tore more blows into
the wildly swinging bag.

"Will you cut it out?" I yelled as the eleventh blow struck home. I couldn't
understand Ginny's fascination with punching a sand-filled leather bag, and
her other forms of strenuous exercise. She'd been a solo gymnast, and now did
pairs, and she was attending martial art sessions three times a week, but I
felt threatened by her punching and the very painful blows she could now
deliver.

"Stop it!" I shouted again as three more heavy blows crunched in. "I can't
hear the TV."

"I'm bored," she said. Crummp. Crrummmpp! Krrooommm! The noise of the blows
got even louder. Ginny was obviously getting irritated. "I need to do
something."

"Don't damage the wall." I said. "You know what dad said last time.."

"I know," Ginny said. I heard another huge crump, and then the unmistakable
sound of the big punchbag slamming heavily into the wall. I could feel the
wall vibrate as the eighty pound bag drove into it.

"Ginny!" I yelled. "Stop kicking it!"

"I'm not kicking it," Ginny walked in with a pout. "I just gave it a really
big right. I can hit nearly twice as hard now as I could last year. The leader
of my karate class says I've got one of the best punches of any kid he's
seen."

"Sit down or go and do some schoolwork!" I said.

"I don't want to. I think I'll go downstairs and work out a bit more..."

"No," I said. "You've had nearly two hours down there already today. Mom says
that's enough."

Ginny was about to make some sort of retort when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." she turned away.

It was Karla, Ginny's "pairs" partner. Until last year Ginny had done solo
gymnastics, but since she had grown so fast, she now did paired gymnastics
with a partner. Karla was two years older than Ginny, at 16. She was five feet
eight inches tall, but more solidly built, and weighed around the same as
Ginny at 125 pounds.

"Hi, xxxx" Karla said as Ginny shut the door behind her. "I was wondering when
we could get together and practice some of those balances."

"It's too dark outside to do it now," Ginny said, "and there's not a lot of
space for practising lifts down in the cellar.."

"Do you lift Ginny?" I asked the new arrival.

"Are you being funny?" Ginny said, suddenly scooping up the older girl in her
long arms. I was surprised at how easily my kid sister lifted her. But Karla
was obviously used to this. "I do all the lifting." Karla showed no surprise,
but just lay there in Ginny's arms like a sack of flour, arms and legs hanging
down loosely as if she were a doll.

The fourteen year-old walked casually into the middle of the room, still
carrying her 125 pound burden.

"But you're two years younger than her," I said.

"So what?" Ginny said. "I've got the strength I need to do it!" She suddenly
threw Karla two feet in the air, and caught her again in her outstretched
arms. Still Karla didn't attempt to move, but lay still in Ginny's arms like a
baby.

"Aren't you going to put her down?" I asked.

"Ginny prefers to carry me around as much as possible. It helps develop her
strength and balance."

"And my stamina," Ginny said as her arms began to raise Karla slowly higher
until her body was level with her head. The whole length of Ginny's torso was
visible beneath the outstretched body of Karla. Ginny held her there for a
minute, then she slowly lowered her again.

"Why do you do the lifting?"

"I'm the only one who can do it," Ginny said. "We're both the same weight, but
I'm far stronger."

"I wouldn't say FAR stronger," the sixteen year-old objected. "I'm the
senior."

"Oh?" Ginny relaxed her left arm, letting Karla drop back to her feet in front
of her. But she didn't leave the older girl standing for long.

Immediately she bent, wrapped one long arm around Karla's legs from behind,
and the other around her chest beneath the arms. Then she straightened with a
jerk, heaving the other girl's body right up across both shoulders, so that
she was lying face-upward, behind Ginny's neck. I gasped at the ease with
which Ginny did this. And now her arms, which were wrapped around Karla's legs
and upper body from behind, began to press forward, forcing her victim's legs
and torso down in front of her.

As the fourteen-year-old stood tall, she had Karla's whole body curved back
around her neck, held firmly in place by her long arms. Ginny's long arms
flexed, revealing some of the muscle that lay in them, and forcing the sixteen
year-old's back into an even deeper reverse C-shape.

"Owww!" Karla cried. "You're hurting. I can't move!'

I could see Karla try to struggle, but her legs and body were gripped firmly
in Ginny's steely arms, and her back was being bent relentlessly against the
natural grain. Her head hung down weakly as Ginny's strong arms locked her in
place.The older girl was immobilised across her shoulders. Karla couldn't
move. She was completely helpless, pinned across Ginny's shoulders like a rack
of beef, and moaning mildly in pain.

"Is that enough pressure for you?" Ginny said lightly, as if this was no
effort at all for her. "I can put on a bit more if you like." I saw her arm
muscles tense.

"No. No!" Karla begged.

Ginny grinned and did ten slow squats, her marbled stomach rippled as her
long, jean-clad legs lowered her body almost to floor level, then drove back
up again, repeating the motion ten times. Ginny did this so smoothly, and
didn'y even seem out of breath afterward.

"Who's the strongest?" she said gently.

"You!" Karla said. "You're the boss."

"Always?"

"Yes. Always."

"And what I say, goes?" Ginny added.

"Yes! Of course."

"Okay," Ginny smiled and her arms relaxed, allowing Karla some movement. I
heard the sixteen year-old's gasp of relief as the pressure on her back eased.
Ginny stooped and lowered her to her feet.

Karla stumbled, trying to keep her balance, rubbing her back. "That hurt!" she
said.

"It's called 'the rack'" Ginny said. "There's not much you can do once you're
in that hold. I tried it out in wrestling. I made Tommy Morrison cry, and he's
older than you."

Just then there was another knock on the front door. "Hold on." Ginny sighed.

When she opened the door it turned out to be Uncle Alan, our dad's thirty
eight year-old kid brother.

"Hi kids," he said. He was wearing a light blue suit that looked tight on his
six foot frame. He must have known our dad was out of town today, or he
wouldn't have come. The two had never got along.

"What do you want?" Ginny said, her impatience making her even less friendly
than usual to an uncle she had never taken to.

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady," Alan frowned. "I've come to borrow
some of the outdoor entertainment equipment ."

"I'd better go!" Karla said, slipping out the door.

"What equipment?" Ginny demanded, closing the main door behind him.

"Just that new plasma screen and some audio stuff. I need it to entertain some
clients."

"Dad said you weren't just to come in and grab anything you wanted," Ginny
frowned. "Has he given you a note or anything in writing saying that you can
take that stuff?"

"Never mind anything in writing!" Uncle Alan said, poking her in the stomach
with his finger. "That's none of your concern. This is business between me and
your dad. And oughtn't you to have more clothes on?"

"Don't do that!" Ginny pushed his hand away quite fiercely. "And you're not
taking any of that new equipment unless dad's here to say so!"

"Just get out of my way!" Uncle Alan was annoyed now. I guessed he hadn't got
permission from our dad to borrow the expensive new equipment, and was angry
that Ginny had challenged him. I saw him plant a broad hand on her bare chest,
just above the bikini top, and shove her two steps backward.

"Don't you dare TOUCH me!" Ginny roared. She could shout really loud if she
wanted to, and the peak of her shout seemed to rattle the wall paintings. Alan
seemed startled. She clenched her fist and drew her forearm up to the
horizontal to make a muscle in her upper arm.

Uncle Alan sneered, but the effect was quite impressive. Ginny's arms were
very long, and surprisingly heavy for her bodyweight. Her forearm curved
gently from a squared fist to a solid elbow. Above this, her upper arm now
carried a long rounded mass of bicep that looked remarkably solid.

"Touch me again," Ginny spat, "..and I'll..."

"You'll what?" Her uncle stepped closer, hoping to tower over her. I knew he
must weigh around 200 pounds to Ginny's less than 130. Her body looked really
slender next to his, but her arms looked comparatively large and solid.
Ginny's arms were large for her size, and they were solidly muscled.

And despite Alan's threatening posture, Ginny didn't back off. She was angry
now, I could see, and her blood was up. Her long slender body swayed back from
her hips to move her face a foot farther from her uncle's. "I'll teach you a
lesson if you do that again!"

"You?" Alan almost exploded as I got hurriedly to my feet. he shoved Ginny
hard in the chest once more. "I'd like to see what kind of lesson you can
teach me. Why I've a mind to..." He drew his hand back as if to strike my kid
sister.

Before I could intervene, Ginny's right fist, already tightly clenched, draw
back another foot. Then it tore forward like a missile into her Uncle Alan's
side.

There was an unexpectedly loud crump, and her fist sank deep into Alan's
midriff. The thirty eight year-old gave a startled "Ouffff!" and stumbled
sharply backward, not stopping until he hit the wall three steps behind him.

"Ougghhh!" he groaned again as he hit the wall. He bent over and clasped his
stomach, holding the spot painfully.

"That's just a warning!" Ginny said, staring him down. The index finger
uncurled from her right fist to point at him. The fourteen year-old's face was
fierce. "Now I think you'd better leave!"

"You what?" Alan's shout echoed along the hallway as he stepped forward. He
looked really angry now.

"Stop this!" I shouted fearing he would hit her.

But he never got the chance. Ginny took a step backward, then her two long
arms speared forward again, one following the other, sending twin,
lightning-fast blows slamming into either side of her uncle's face.

Cracck! CRACCKK!

It was over in a fraction of a second. Her arms moved so fast. But Ginny had
just unloaded two big punches - just like those she'd recently been plowing
into the punchbag.

I'm sure Uncle Al didn't know what had hit him. He just went careering back
across the hallway again, to crash into a small table and send the telephone
flying across the floor. What shocked me was how hard Ginny's long arms had
hit! The noise had echoed down the hall really loud - almost like gunshots.
And Alan was now holding his face in both hands. He looked shocked and dazed.
As he removed his hands, I gasped.

Blood was pouring down the left side of his face from a damaged nose and split
lip. The right side of his face looked even worse. A nasty dark bruise was
closing his right eye as blood trickled down his cheekbone.

"Ginny!" I yelled. "What have you done?"

Furious, Alan lumbered forward, swinging wildly. But Ginny was too quick for
him, darting back out of reach of his wild swings, to send in another sharp
blow of her own with her long right arm.

And that was what Alan had not counted on, Ginny's reach. Her arms were over
six feet three from fingertip to fingertip, and she was limber and flexible.
She could hit her uncle hard while keeping her body out of his reach. He tried
to put up a guard but Ginny just circled him with half-closed eyes, looking
for gaps.

She made a couple of feints, then CRASHH the real one went in - straight to
the left side of his face. It was so fast the punch itself was a blur. And it
was so hard! The 38 year-old groaned and staggered back.

"I haven't started yet," Ginny said coldly. And with a frown, she stepped
forward and buried two big punches into her uncle's midriff before he could
move forward.

Alan groaned, and he tried to come forward, but he was already slow, dazed and
disorientated.

"You ...." he mumbled from a bleeding mouth.

CRACK! CRACCKK! Ginny's arms silenced him with two more harsh punches. She
glowered - and did it again. CRACCKK! CRRUMMMP! Her arms were relentless. The
two hundred pound man stumbled back into the wall, barely able to stay on his
feet. I couldn't believe it. This was becoming a beating! The thirty eight
year-old guy was simply being thrashed by his fourteen year-old niece!

Uncle Alan just wasn't able to respond any more. Ginny was so fast, she had
such a reach advantage, and she was so strong!. She was taking her time now,
seeming to be working within herself, and just cranking the punches in. It was
as if she was back at the punchbag. CRUMMP! KROOOM! Two really heavy blows
thundered into him. His groans were really loud as he stumbled across the
hall.

"Ginny stop! You're hurting him!"

"Why should I?" Ginny said. "He deserves it. He would have hit me if he
could..." This is teaching him a lesson.

CRRRUMMMPP! Her right powered deep into his gut, doubling him completely over.

"Stop!" I screamed.

"All right," Ginny seemed reluctant, but drew back a step. "Now, Uncle Alan,"
she said. "I've told you to leave - and that's what you're going to do. Right
now. And without any of my father's DVD equipment. Do you understand?"

The larger man had to shake his head, as if to clear it.

"Do you understand?" Ginny repeated. "I'm not going to ask you again."

"I've got to leave." Alan slurred.

"Yes," said Ginny. Her bare midriff moved gently in and out. Unlike her
adversary's body it was completely unmarked. "Right now. Unless you want me to
punish you some more..." Her forearm muscles defined as she tightened her
fists noticeably.

"No. No." Alan slurred. "I'll leave." He turned away.

"He can't drive like that," I said. "He'll have to get cleaned up first."

Ginny looked at him and nodded. "Clean up the worst of the blood and let him
go."

"Can I sit down?" her uncle asked. "Just for a minute?"

She pointed to an upright chair. "There."

It took me five or six minutes to clean his face up and tape band-aids over
the cuts. All the while Ginny looked-on stony-faced.

"Right. Now you can go," Ginny said. "You can drive like that."

"Can't he stay a bit longer?"

"No." Ginny said.

And that was that. Ginny was in charge and Alan had to leave.

"You won't say anything about this to your father, will you?" he asked.

"Not if you don't. You can come back when my father's here, but I don't want
you here when he's away. Understand?"

"Yes." He nodded and crept out through the front door.

There was the sound of a car door slamming. Then we heard him drive off.

"You were harsh with him," I said.

"He deserved it," she said. "He thought he could bully us. He got punished."