Ludmilla's Justice.
by Alpesco
The six foot two blonde under threat.


The bar where Ludmilla and I work is a big place on three floors. It was three
in the afternoon when the lower bar closed, and I went down to see Ludmilla
cleaning up. She was dressed in her usual working attire of short black dress
with narrow straps that showed off her long, long legs to perfection.

"Hi, Pam," she said, turning from wiping down the bar. "I'll be finished in a
few minutes."

All the girls were jealous of the Eastern European blonde's legs. She was six
foot two inches tall, and her legs made up more than half. They were long and
looked slender and shapely with lithe slabs of muscle that flickered sensually
as she walked. Her height partially disguised the fact that her legs actually
measured twenty six inches around - only two inches less than her narrow
waist.

What her height could not disguise, was her magnificent upper body. Her arms
were not only long, but clearly immensely strong. Even when they were relaxed
you could see the shapes of the big muscles that lay soft, beneath the skin.
Her shoulders were broad, with swelling deltoids that dwarfed her chin and
elegant facial features. But she was proudest of all of her seventeen and a
half inch biceps.

The service door behind her opened and Bill came in pushing a trolley with
three barrels of beer. "Here are the refills you asked for," he nodded. "Shall
I fix them for you?"

"No. I can do it," the tall blonde said, leaning over and grasping the handle
of one of the metal barrels with her right hand. "It's a good exercise." She
flexed her right arm and we both watched its bicep harden, swell, and contract
into a large ball of muscle that looked as dense and heavy as oak. And slowly,
the heavy steel barrel began to rise off the trolley. Both of us stared dumbly
as the tall amazon swept the barrel steadily up to shoulder height in one
hand.

"That barrel weighs over a hundred pounds!" Bill gasped, shaking his head.

Ludmilla gave a little smile, then she began to push the barrel farther
upward, engaging a different set of muscles as she extended her long right
arm. Her triceps flared and rippled, pushing her arm straight until the steel
barrel was hanging from her hand, eight feet off the floor. She brought up her
free left arm into a powerful flex as her right continued to support the heavy
barrel. With a smirk, she swung the barrel across the bar, then lowered it
smoothly to the floor.

"I could never do that!" I gasped. "Not even with two hands!"

"You're only little," Ludmilla teased. "Just five feet seven. And you haven't
trained for eighteen out of your twenty-five years like I have."

She leaned forward and picked up the last two barrels, one in each hand,
flexing them simultaneously to shoulder height in her impressively muscular
arms. She held them there for a minute, as if to display her strength, before
lowering them into place behind the bar. Bill was silent. He was five foot
ten, and ten years older than Ludmilla at thirty five, but I'd never seen him
attempt anything like that. Turning, he wheeled his trolley back out through
the service door.

"Okay," Ludmilla said, fixing the last of the barrels in place. "Time to go."

"Not yet, people." Three men had walked into the darkened lower bar room
unobserved. "We still have business."

"The bar is closed," Ludmilla said. "It reopens at eight. You have to go
upstairs."

"I think we'll stay right here," the first man said. He was about six feet
tall, of medium build. The second was three inches shorter and very fat. The
third of the men was about six feet four. All three were wearing casual suits
and two were carrying coats.

"We want you to hand us the bags," the first man said.

"What bags?" Ludmilla frowned.

A gun suddenly appeared from under the coat in the man's hand. "You know what
bags," he growled. "The cashbags with the lunchtime take!"

For a moment Ludmilla just stared. But the man was in a hurry. He waved his
gun to indicate that she should step backward. "Just stand back, and I'll get
the money."

Ludmilla took two steps back to let the man walk past her to get behind the
bar. One of his companions produced a leather bag from beneath the coat on his
arm, opening it ready to receive the expected haul.

From where I watched on the far side of the bar, Ludmilla looked perfectly
docile, waiting nervously for the hijacker to come past her. But as he stepped
past, toward the cash registers, her right hand suddenly snaked out to seize
his gun hand at the wrist. There was a brief struggle as the gunman tried to
tear his arm free and point the gun back at her. But he reckoned without the
iron strength of Ludmilla's thickly-muscled arm. The gumnan gave a sharp cry
as her hand twisted his wrist sharply back on itself. The gun fell slackly
from his injured hand.

The six foot tall robber was now engaged in a desperate struggle with
Ludmilla, fighting to tear himself free and pick up the gun. But Ludmilla's
strong legs braced themselves against him and forced him backward, farther
away from the gun and the three cash registers.

Then I saw her right hand sweep down to clasp his inner thigh. Her big arm
muscles tensed, and he gave a cry of alarm as he was abruptly lifted upward,
torn right off his feet by Ludmilla's powerful arm! His legs were swept up in
Ludmilla's long right arm, while her left stayed in place to take the weight
of the rest of his body until she held him in a cradle at chest height.

His two accomplices looked on, stunned, as the gunman struggled to escape, but
to no avail. Ludmilla's arms held him tight, and they were far too strong for
him to break free of. In fact his whole bodyweight did not seem to be a great
burden for them. The tall blonde's powerful arms were clamped on his thigh and
his armpit. They looked strong, the big muscles dwarfing his facial features.
And now they demonstrated that strength, continuing to raise him smoothly to
shoulder height.

She paused with him there for a millisecond, then began to press on up, her
long, muscular arms extending until he hung suspended, two feet above her
head.

Stunned, the two men with him had just stood and stared as this barmaid amazon
had picked up their 180 pound comrade and pressed him overhead! Now her burden
cried out in alarm as her arms suddenly propelled him forward, hurling him
down, to crash heavily onto a barroom table.

He gave a howl of pain as his body smashed into the table, shattering it to
splinters before making heavy contact with the floor.

Now the spell was broken. And with a cry, his two accomplices charged forward,
desperate to get back the gun, and grab the money they had come for.

But Ludmilla was waiting for them. I saw her hands clench into blocky fists as
her eyes measured the distance between them. The two men were clearly intent
on quickly seizing and overpowering her. But Ludmilla quickly sidestepped,
evading them and turning, so that they were between her and the back wall.
Then she set those really big arms of hers into motion.

Krummm. Krruummm! Krruummmp! Her heavy fists impacted, powering into the two
men's exposed bodies. There is a particular noise when Ludmilla hits that you
always remember. You don't get that sound the way most people hit. It's
because she can hit so hard. Her arms are so powerful that they always hit
big, even when she doesn't choose to use 100 percent of her strength.

That signature noise is a deep crump of impacted flesh and bone that seems to
echo through a man's body cavity like a muffled drum. It is a sound that is
usually orchestrated with the grunts and moans of pain from whoever is her
target.

And today Ludmilla was angry, and her arms were hitting with a lot of power.

"Ouuaagghh. Ouuuaaaggghhh! Ouuuuuaaaaagggghhh!" The two mens' groans grew
louder as her massive punches drove in. The sheer weight of the twenty five
year old's punches was shocking. It made me feel very glad that I was not the
person on the end of them.

The taller of the two robbers jerked starkly upright as a rising blow took him
just beneath the breastbone. He was gasping for breath as he staggered three
steps backward, barely able to keep to his feet.

There was a deeply echoing crump a split-second later as Ludmilla's right fist
plowed into the side of his shorter, fatter companion.

"Ooooowww!" he gasped. "The bitch broke my rib!"

Krumm. Krruummp. Krrrooom! Now it was the taller man's turn to scream in pain
as Ludmilla devoted three of her monster blows just to him. I watched as they
crashed destructively into his stomach and ribcage. His whole body buckled
with each punch. Then he fell to his knees with a low, continuous moan.

Ludmilla's left, which she had also intended to power into him, now changed
target in mid-swing. Yet it seemed to lose none of its appalling power as it
tore into the capacious midriff of the larger man. This was her biggest punch
of the four, and the sound was awesome.

The fat man made a funny gurgling noise as the brutal blow drove home,
powering deep into his midriff. At once he doubled over, gasping desperately
for air as Ludmilla stepped back a pace to survey the scene of the mayhem she
had just imposed. She looked on dispasionately as he sank to one knee and
began to throw up all over the wood-block floor. He couldn't stop. He just
kept retching and retching as he fell to all fours. A broad trickle of blood
was flowing from one corner of his mouth.

"Please! Enough!" the other man, who could still speak, said.

I felt a funny feeling go through me. These big guys had taken just three or
four of Ludmilla's punches each, and they were completely totalled. Neither of
them could stand, and I could see that there was no fight at all left in them.
Ludmilla was so strong. If she'd been a guy I'd have got the hots for a man
who could do that, there and then. There was something so awesome about what
her big arms could do to people.

And Ludmilla was still pumped and ready, her fists tight-clenched, her big
arms primed to strike again.

She turned back to the man who had held the gun. He was still groaning on the
floor where he had landed, his back clearly hurt from his impact with the
table. Her big bronzed arms dove in and pulled him up to his feet.

"Don't hurt him too bad, Ludmilla" I yelled. I was worried that those big arms
of hers might do too much damage if she continued to hit like that.

"These guys were too easy," she snorted. "They must be amateurs."

"Shall I call the police?" I asked.

"No police!" Bill's voice came unexpectedly from behind us. "Just let the
three of them go."

I turned to see Bill standing in the service doorway with the hijacker's gun
in his hand.

"You?" I gasped.

"Yes, me." Bill scowled. "Do you think I like to spend my life hauling cans
around in this dump? Now stay right where you are while I get the money..."

"Drop the gun, Bill," Ludmilla said quietly. "It's all over."

"Drop the gun?" Bill sneered. "What? Surrender to you two half-dressed sluts?"
he stepped forward. "Now you, Miss Bodybuilder, go out that door." He waved
toward the white-painted door to the store room.

Ludmilla backed out through it, the gun still pointed at her. "Right!" Bill
said, slamming the door in front of her and turning the pass key in the lock.

"Okay," he said, turning back to me. "Fetch the bag and.."

His words were interrupted by a massive crash from the door behind him. It
sounded like the door had been hit by a truck. Then I saw the center of the
combination door suddenly erupt. A twelve inch section of the veneered
panelling buckled outward, then was torn apart amid shards of flying wood, as
Ludmilla's solid fist crashed right through it!

There was an explosive ripping and tearing of wood as Ludmilla's arm kept
right on going, to crash straight into the back of the startled Bill. He gave
a moan of pain and surprise, trying to turn as another massive crash shook the
door - and Ludmilla's fist came tearing through, twelve inches above the first
jagged hole.

There was a hail of sharp splinters and clouds of composite dust. The second
blow missed Bill, but the feeble door could not take this sort of punishment.
With a tearing crack, the top third of the door came away on the diagonal,
falling to the floor as the remainder of the door swung open, the lock
destroyed.

"Wha..." Bill still hadn't properly taken in what had just happened.

He had no time for further reflection as Ludmilla's big right arm scythed up
in what I knew was her favorite punch. Her fist smashed into the base of
Bill's jaw as she delivered a massive uppercut. Bill's face seemed to implode
as the fearsome blow plowed into him from beneath, powered by Ludmilla's
swelling deltoid and big bellied bicep. His features were compressed into each
other, his jawbone breaking like a candy twist as it was driven powerfully up
into his mouth.

His head flew up and backward like a punchball, dragging his neck and body
upward with it as at least four of his shattered teeth sprayed across the bar.
Bill's whole body, all 180 pounds of it, was lifted four inches off the ground
by this one incredible punch, hurtling backward to crash into the bar.

He stayed propped against the bar for a minute, his shattered mouth dripping
streams of blood, before slumping to a sitting position on the floor.

Ludmilla slowly unclenched her fist, stretching out the fingers as she studied
her victim. "I don't like traitors," she said. "It makes me angry that he
should point a gun at us! It's a pity he couldn't take more than just one good
punch. I wanted to hit him again." She flexed her powerful right arm, not even
looking at the towering bicep that gathered there at her command.

The fat man was dry-retching now, having emptied everything that had ever been
in his stomach out onto the floor. He seemed to be in considerable pain.

"He looks like he needs surgery," Ludmilla said, getting out a lipstick from
her little bag, and applying it to her lips. "I've seen this before. It
usually happens when they've burst something inside."

"You took out four guys!" I said in unconcealed admiration, looking at the
carnage around her. "And you didn't look like you were trying hard!"

"It was easy!" she flexed her towering arms. "I don't think they can be
professional criminals. Giving out those big punches was just getting my arms
warmed up. Let's hope the cops don't keep us too long. I still have to do my
workout before this evening!"

..............

We both got a cash bonus from the management for our bravery. The three
robbers had only been local small-timers put up to the theft by Bill. Anyhow
all four of them had to do time in hospital before they saw the inside of a
jail. Bill lost most of his teeth and had six painful months of dental work
ahead of him. The fat guy spent ten weeks in hospital following surgery for a
busted gall-bladder and a burst appendix. The man with the gun suffered a bad
back injury from his fall. And Ludmilla made it to the gym that afternoon in
time to do her normal two hour workout.