The Brat
by Alpesco
A new girl dominates the park.


I was in charge of the campsite at Mountain Ridge. Trailers were drawn up
across the ten acres of grassland and hillside on the edge of the woods.

I didn't normally have a lot to do once the trailers were located on site and
connected up to services. I was wandering past the lake when I saw Katie, a
girl who belonged to one of the trailers. I'd noticed her in the past few
days. She was very sporty and always swam 20 lengths of the small lake each
morning before anyone else was out. She was a good-looking fourteen-year-old
but obviously a trained swimmer because she tore through the water faster than
I'd seen anyone else who came up here.

I watched her plow through the water, her arms churning up geysers of spray
and making big bow-waves that splashed noisily over the built-up edges of the
lake. It was a good thing that she did most of her swimming when the lake was
empty, for she really churned it up. Her wake sent the bouys bobbing up and
down like ships in a storm, and the whole eighty yard lake was covered in
eight inch high waves when she finally pulled herself out.

Although fourteen, she seemed to be a bit of a tomboy, and today she was in
the company of a number of kids of various ages. She had a pretty face with
long brown hair, and stood about five feet eight tall. She wore cut-off denim
shorts and a small black top. Her body was lean, slim yet muscular, with long,
athletic legs. But it was her arms that stood out. Besides being very long,
they were quite large, and carried visible muscles from years of sports
training.

When she flexed, long chunky biceps rose along her arms, swelling and
hardening in stark contrast with her slender body. Katie challenged all the
local kids to race, and she beat them all, even the seventeen year-olds,
leaving them tired and gasping in her wake as she churned across the lake.

"How come you swim so fast?" Jordan Holt, one of the sixteen year-old boys she
had just beaten, asked.

"It's my strength training," she said, flexing her arms again, to several
impressed exclamations. "You need a lot of strength to swim really fast. And
I'm so strong nobody can beat me."

"I don't think you're that strong." A girl had walked up behind her who seemed
unimpressed by her boasting. She was wearing blue shirt and shorts. I
recognised her as Brenda Kalowitz. She was seventeen years old and stood five
feet nine tall. "You're just a small kid!"

"Oh yeah?" Katie stepped forward, stretching one arm to grip the older girl
beneath her armpit and using the other to grip the seventeen year-old at the
top of her right leg. With a sudden sharp jerk, she lifted, raising the 17
year-old right off the ground and up to waist height. Brenda gave a yelp of
surprise.

But Katie was not finished. With a soft grunt, she put in a steady surge of
effort to press Brenda smoothly up to shoulder height and beyond.

I watched, startled, as Katie's strong arms pushed upward, etched muscles
flickering, as they raised the squirming body of the seventeen-year-old higher
and higher until she was suspended horizontally nearly three feet above
Katie's head. The younger girl stood completely straight now, with the heavier
girl held above her like a human barbell.

"Wow! Katie!" Brenda gasped in astonishment, hardly able to believe what Katie
had done to her.

Katie grinned and held her where she was for several moments. The five foot
nine tall girl began to squirm in the fourteen year-old's steely grip,

"You're hurting!" she cried.

"It's bound to hurt a little," Katie said, continuing to support the older
girl above her head apparently without strain. "I have to keep a firm grip, or
you'll fall. I'll try not to squeeze too hard though." And now she turned
around in a half circle and began to walk toward the watching swimmers.

"Katie!" "You're so strong!" They gasped as she strode toward them, her arms
still stock straight beneath their heavy burden. Katie grinned as she walked
to the built-up bank of the small lake.

"Shall I throw her in?" she asked.

The kids in the pool yelled their agreement, but above her head, Brenda
pleaded. "No. Please put me down. I can't swim!"

"Oh." For the first time the younger girl looked uncertain. She took a step
back from the pool edge. "Is that the truth?"

"Yes. It's true! Please put me down."

"It's not that simple. Do you take back what you said?" Katie showed no sign
of weakening as she continued to hold the older girl suspended above her head.

"Yes! I take it back! Your arms are so strong. I'm sorry I said you were just
a small kid."

At last Katie relented, lowering the writhing Brenda back to the ground, and
releasing her grip. Where her hands had been supporting Brenda's body, beneath
the armpit, and round the base of Brenda's leg, there were big red marks the
shape of Katie's hands. "Owww!" Brenda rubbed the marks. "These are bruising."

Sorry," said Katie. "But you were struggling and I had to hold you firm. The
bruises should go in a few days."

"Thanks a lot!" Brenda said, limping away.

"Hey. Don't go off in a bad mood." Katie said, running after her. As soon as
she drew level, she scooped the older girl up into her arms in a cradle carry.
Katie was so easy with her strength. She carried the larger girl as if she
were a baby, turning round with her to where some chairs were parked on a
stretch of paving close to the water.

I could see Brenda was not too happy at this, but she was a little in awe of
Katie's power now, and did not resist as Katie carried her. She probably
guessed that Katie was easily strong enough to hoist her overhead again if she
chose. Katie walked across the lawn with her and placed her in one of the
upright leather-covered armchairs overlooking the lake. "Sit down and chill
out a little," the fourteen year-old said. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," Brenda said. "I'm not angry. But please don't make me sit in this
damp old chair. Can I get up?"

"Sure. If you want," Katie said. "But I want you to stay here with us for a
while."

"If that's what you want.." Brenda got up at once. "Damn!"

"What?"

"I've lost my gold bracelet!" She cried, trying to force her hand down the gap
between the back and the padded seat. "It fell of my wrist, and it's slid down
inside. I can't get it out!"

Some other kids tried to force their hands down the back of the chair, but
none were successful. "How will we get it out?"

"I'll do it." Katie said.

She stepped forward and picked up the old leather chair in one arm. Then she
transfered the weight, clamping her hands around two diagonally opposing legs.
Still holding the chair upright, she stretched her left arm straight out in
front of her, bracing it as her right hand tightened around the closer leg.

"What are you doing, Katie?" someone asked.

"This!" Katie said, her arms tensing as she began to pull her right arm back
against her braced left as if she were drawing on a bow. As she applied the
tension these huge, rounded biceps rose in her upper arms. I gasped. They were
outstanding. They took up the whole length of her upper arms, and swelled and
swelled as she continued to tense them. Each bicep was as big as one of the
small rocks that lined the side of the lake. Katie's arms were amazing. They
seemed almost too big for her, with broad shoulders that dwarfed her waist,
and long arms filled with muscle.

There were loud splintering and cracking sounds as her solid arms drew the
legs of the armchair apart. As the kids watched, the wooden legs began to bend
outward under the pressure. Katie drew a breath, and pulled again as if she
were drawing a giant bow. The wood of the chair couldn't take it, and again
the splintering and cracking began. The two legs were six inches farther apart
now, and the whole chair was beginning to distort as the leather covering was
stretched taut. Katie's muscles solidified as she applied still more pressure.
Suddenly there was a loud crack, accompanied by a ripping and tearing of
leather as the near leg tore noisily away from its lower supports.

There were gasps from the watchers as the chair began to break apart. But
Katie's arms did not let up for one second. The sounds of cracking and
splintering wood grew louder as she continued to draw her arms apart. With a
roaring crack, the entire chair seemed suddenly to rip in half from the bottom
up. The legs were wrenched three feet apart and the leather cladding tore
along its length revealing the broken framework beneath. Nails, fragments of
metal webbing and supports rained to the ground from the wreckage of the chair
as Katie's strong arms continued to pull it apart.

There was another crack, and the chair's back broke free of its moorings, the
struts twisting and snapping as Katie continued to rip the old armchair apart.
The work was easier now, as most of the resistance in the chair was broken.
The fourteen year-old stretched her arms wide, tearing the legs completely
free of each other.

She let them drop. All that was left of the chair was a heap of torn leather
and shattered firewood.

Katie picked up a piece of the midsection that was still attached to a portion
of the back, twisting the two halves apart in her hands. A thin gold band fell
to the ground from amid the exposed springs. "There's your bangle." she said.

"Wow!" the watching girls said, admiring. "You just ripped the chair apart!"

Just then a large man came out of one of the nearby trailers overlooking the
clearing... "I keep telling you kids to keep away from here!" he shouted. "I
want some peace and quiet!"

"We're entitled to be here," Katie said.

"No. You're not." The man bellowed back. "The recreation area is across the
park."

"Perhaps we'd better go," Jordan, a seventeen year-old youth said. "That's my
dad, Jimmy Holt."

"I'm not leaving!" the girl insisted.

"Get out of here you brat!" the man yelled.

"Okay, pa. We're leaving." Jordan said.

"No we're not" Katie didn't flinch.

"You better go before I make you!" Mr Holt glowered.

"How are you going to make me leave? I'd like to see you try." She looked at
him. "I'll bet I could take you on."

"What?" He laughed.

"Do you dare armwrestle me?" she looked up at him. He was five feet ten, and
at a bulky 240 pounds, he must weigh twice what she did .

"Don't be silly. You can't beat my dad!" Jordan said.

Katie sat down at a nearby bench, put her elbow on the bench and leaned over.
"Why not let's see." The other kids gathered round in a semicircle. "We'll go
away. Mr Holt - if you can beat me in a fair armwrestle."

"This is ridiculous!" the larger man fumed. "But if we must go through this
charade..."

He linked hands with her. As soon as he did, I noticed that the difference in
the size of their arms was nowhere near as big as the difference between their
bodies. Mr Holt was a large man with a heavy body and a waistline of something
like forty five inches. Katie was two inches shorter and slenderly built, with
a solidly-muscled twenty three inch waist. But her arm was large for her body
size. It was long, and a good fourteen inches around, all of it bone and
muscle. Mr Holt's upper arm looked larger around, but not by very much, and it
had far more fatty padding. As they linked hands Katie's bicep swelled - or
rather it burst into view as it ballooned out of her upper arm like a
light-brown boulder. It was really impressive, especially for a
fourteen-year-old girl. Katie gave a broad grin.

At first Mr Holt grinned too as he sat propped up on the bench facing the
fourteen year-old. I watched his smile slowly freeze as he found that Katie's
arm was not nearly as easy to move as he had expected. Both arms were locked
together at the vertical. I could see that force was being exerted but, apart
from a slight trembling, neither arm moved at all. It was startling to see a
girl half Mr Holt's weight with an arm capable of withstanding his.

"Come on, dad!" Jordan, shouted.

"Not so easy, is it, Mr Holt?" Katie's grin was wicked. "Surely a big man like
you has enough strength to beat a girl?"

This taunt seemed to spur Jordan's father on. His face set grimly as he put a
big surge of effort into crushing this upstart kid.

For an instant Katie's arm swayed backward about an inch, but then her arm
hardened even more, the muscles seeming to want to burst through the skin, so
tight did they stretch it. her whole arm seemed to turn to stone as she put in
the effort to resist Mr Holt's assault. And suddenly her arm was back at
vertical again!

"Whoo, Katie!" some of the kids cried, others cheered and whistled, impressed
by how strong she was. She was only around half Mr Holt's body mass, but she
was holding her own against him.

"Come on, dad!" Jordan's voice sounded more urgent now, as he stared
disbelieving.

Mr Holt was staring at Katie's arm in disbelief. He had put in an enormous
effort and still hadn't been able to move it! I watched as he frowned and
tried again, putting in another surge of pressure.

But this surge was less effective than the first. The girl was clearly ready
for him, and this time her arm didn't budge a fraction of an inch. I looked
back to the forty year-old. His face was sweating now beneath the greying hair
and beginning to redden. I could see that he was losing face with every
passing moment. This should have been no contest. The kid was a third his age
and half his weight. He should have slammed her hand into the bench in the
first ten seconds and walked away. But here he was, over a minute later, and
still he hadn't managed to budge the girl's arm at all! And there she was,
grinning like this was a game!

"Dad. Come on!" Jordan's voice was growing ever more desperate.

But it was becoming clear that Katie's densely muscular arm was appallingly
strong. The older man just could not move it at all! It stayed there big,
powerful and defying him. And now the girl was looking, if anything, even more
confident! She had resisted the best he could hand out, and wasn't even
sweating! Her arms were as strong as his! His face was screwed up in a grimace
of effort as his face grew still redder. His arm was shaking, but still he was
making no impression whatsoever on the fourteen year-old!

I realised now that the guy was trapped - and so did Katie. He needed to win -
or else he would lose an enormous amount of face. He couldn't get out of this.

Katie gritted her teeth, and her powerful arm remained rock-steady. I could
see that Holt was beginning to tire now. His face was red and sweating. His
arm was trembling and he was putting in no more surges of pressure. It seemed
to be all he could do now to keep his arm where it was.

"Can't you beat me, Mr Holt?" Katie taunted. "Surely a big man like you can
defeat a little girl like me?"

Holt looked really angry, and from somewhere he found the energy to put in
another surge of effort. But Katie's arm resisted it easily. And now she set
her face as she began to pour more effort in. Her arm muscles hardened to
granite ruggedness once more as she began to press Mr Holt's tired arm
backward.

The big man's arm trembled, shook, then, as the kids cheered wildly, began to
fall backward!

"Dad!" Jordan screamed in dismay. But there was nothing the older man could
do. As Katie grinned fiercely in triumph, her muscular arm began to drive Mr
Holt's relentlessly down toward the bench. Once she began to press downward,
her arm seemed irresistable, unstoppable. The downward movement continued
until Mr Holt's hand shuddered into the wooden bench.

"Katie. Katie!" The kids went wild, roaring her name.

"Do you concede, Mr Holt?" Katie said, still holding the larger man's hand
pinned to the bench.

He nodded and Katie released him, standing to flex her dominating biceps
triumphantly. Mr Holt and his son, Jordan were completely crestfallen.

"Katie's stronger than your dad!"

"My arms are stronger than a lot of guys," Katie said. "I may be young, but a
lot of full-grown men don't have arms this powerful. So, Mr Holt - do we get
to use this clearing now?"

"Do what you like!" Holt turned away.

Not so fast, Mr Holt!!" Katie made a quick dive after him, her long arms
catching him around the top of his legs from behind and clamping tight. Before
he had time to realise what was happening, she had straightened her legs and
back to raise his bulk vertically two feet off the ground. Tightening her
grip, she turned around with him to face the others.

"Put me down!" Mr Holt struggled weakly, but he couldn't break the steely grip
of Katie's linked arms.

"Before you run off, I want to hear you say it. Do we get to use the
clearing?"

"Yes!" he bellowed. "Yes! You can use it. Okay? Now put me down!"

Katie lowered him gently to the ground, then unlinked her arms."I'm finished
with you. You can go now."

Mr Holt stalked back to his trailer in silence. I wasn't too surprised when he
packed up his goods and drove off the park that same afternoon.