Boyfriend trouble
by Alpesco
Ludmilla helps a friend scare off an angry "ex".


John was waiting for me outside the bar where we worked. "What are you doing
out alone in this sort of neighborhood?" He demanded. "I want you to come back
with me, get your old job back at the casino, and...

"And help you and your scumball friends cheat the place?" I shook myself free.
"No way. We're finished. I've told you that a dozen times. We are over as an
item! I don't want to see you any more!"

"You're going to see me a hell of a lot more, baby!" he said. "You're gonna
see me or Clark day and night from now on, until you come back and do what I
say."

"Just get lost!" I told him. "Or I'll call the police!"

A wave of pain exploded in my face as John's arm came round in a sudden harsh
slap. "You won't call anybody!" John hissed. "Or me and my friends will find
you and hurt you bad. Now think about that!" he turned away and strode off
into the dark. My face was bruised and stinging from his slap. There was
nothing I could do at five foot seven and 130 pounds against my six foot two,
two hundred pound ex-boyfriend.

"Who was that?" Ludmilla said as she joined me in the street. The six foot two
Ukrainian blonde was wearing a tight white lacy top with long sleeves, and her
usual short skirt.

I told her. When she saw the bruises on my face, I knew that she was really
angry.

"We must call the police?" she asked.

"No!" I shook my head. "That's the worst thing I could do. With John and his
friends, its a code. Call the police on them, and they won't rest until they
make me pay."

"Then I think I'll have to go and talk to this boyfriend of yours," Ludmilla
said. "After that he won't trouble you again."

"Can you really straighten him out?" I asked.

"Let him try to slap me around." Ludmilla flexed her arm. I'd seen her do it a
dozen times, but I was still impressed. She was six foot two tall, with long,
solidly-muscled limbs. But when she flexed, her huge bicep took the breath
away. It swelled and hardened, stretching the lace fabric of her sleeve taut
as it rose in a mountainous bulge the size of a grapefruit. There wasn't much
that could hide Ludmilla's seventeen and a half inch arms when she flexed.

"I'll take you to the car," she said, picking me up in her arms. There was no
need, but there was little chance of me resisting. Ludmilla's arms were just
too strong for someone of my weight to argue with. They carried me easily, as
if I was a paper doll. I felt like a small child when Ludmilla carried me, her
arms taking my weight and holding me tight. There was no way I could fight
them. My entire bodyweight didn't even test Ludmilla's big arms. She had once
carried me around the apartment all night, just to demonstrate how strong they
were. After three hours she had put me down and then done ten one-armed chins
with each hand.

I was a little embarrassed as we walked along darkened streets, but the
sensation of being carried by this tall twenty-five year-old was not
unpleasant. It was quite comforting that her warm arms held me so firmly. I
felt very secure. As we approached the parked car, she lowered one arm to
operate the electronic key, carrying my whole 130 pounds on one arm, while she
opened the door with the other, then placed me in the passenger seat.

"What are you going to do, 'milla?" I asked as she got in the drivers seat and
started the engine.

"You're going to show me where this John lives, and I'll deal with him."

"He's as tall as you." I said.

"Good," said Ludmilla. "Where is he?"

I guided Ludmilla to the seedy apartment block on the far side of town where
John lived.

"There's always people out front who'll warn him that anyone's coming," I
said. "Better to use the back way. I still have the key."

We went to the darkened rear of the apartment block, which backed on to a
deserted alleyway. I tried to use my old key, but in the four months since I'd
left, they must have changed the lock. My key no longer fitted.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay." Ludmilla said softly. "Stand back!" She made a fist and drew it
back.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"I'm going to get in," she said. And with that, she unleashed her fist,
driving it into the right-hand edge of the wooden door.

Krrooommm! The noise was startling! I was always amazed at the amount of power
with which Ludmilla could hit. She looked strong, sure enough, but the amount
of force her slim body could generate was awesome. The inch-thick door bowed
inward as her big right arm unloaded into it. The huge crash combined with a
dull cracking and tearing deep within the wood. When she withdrew her fist
there were a few hairline cracks in the wood, but no other sign of damage.

"It's a tough door," she said. "I'll have to give it a few more."

"You'll never..." I began, but my words were drowned out in the noise from her
second big blow.

Krroooommmmm! Ludmilla's fist impacted at the edge of the wooden door with
explosive force. The upper third of the door arched inward as the boom echoed
around the empty alley behind us. The doorframe shook, and deeper cracks
appeared round the spot where her fist hit home. I saw the wood begin to split
around the hinges as Ludmilla drew her long arm back.

KARRROOOOOMMMMM! Another immense blast rocked the door. There was a loud
ripping and cracking noise, deep inside the wood. There was the sharp scream
of tearing metal, and suddenly the door crashed open, the broken lock flying
across the inner hallway.

Ludmilla pushed the shattered door open and walked into the hallway. "Where
now?" she said.

I led her up five flights of stairs to a long corridor. That was when I caught
sight of Frankie Winger darting into the men's washrooms. "Frankie's seen us!"
I said. "He'll warn John!"

Ludmilla ran up the corridor with me following. We barged into the men's
washroom. But it looked empty. The cubicles were shut.

"We know you're in here, Frankie," I said. "Come out and talk to us."

There was no answer.

"I'm going to count to three," Ludmilla said. "One... Two... Three!"

Ludmilla's big right arm shot forward, powering into the nearest of the
cubicle doors. It hit just once - and the entire fiberboard door shattered in
pieces as Ludmilla's fist went right through it! The crash was deafening,
jagged pieces of the door smashing into the back of the cubicle and clattering
to the tiled floor. These doors were a hell of a lot weaker than the rear door
to the apartment block. They clearly stood no chance against the six foot two
amazon's muscular arms.

Ludmilla turned round, then drove her fist into the partition between her and
the next cubicle. With a fearsome crash, the fiberboard wall section tore
apart, shattered into five jagged pieces by that one massive blow. One large
section crashed onto the toilet bowl, smashing it, the others were scattered
across the floor. The two cubicles had become one.

Krrrooommm! A section of partition-wall was torn out of the brickwork in an
explosive shower of masonry. My insides turned to jelly as Ludmilla's big arms
ripped the cubicles apart. It was like nothing could stop them. I didn't want
to admit it, but Ludmilla's power was really turning me on. Krrroooommmm!
Another fiberboard partition wall split apart, crashing down in a crescendo of
noise and dust. Karrroooommmm! The final toilet cubicle disintegrated as
Ludmilla's solid fist tore through it.

And there in the ruins, stood the shaken, shocked Frankie. He was covered in
dust and debris, and had been cut on one cheek by a flying shard of torn
fiberboard.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" he yelled. "Please don't hurt me!" Ludmilla's arms were
really pumped now by the exercise, the heavy, solid muscles moving fluidly
beneath the skin. They looked as though they could tear the five foot six, one
hundred and twenty pounder apart.

"Where is John?" Ludmilla asked.

"Right down the hall, and on the left," Frankie spurted out the information as
fast as he was able, clearly totally intimidated by Ludmilla's display of
power. "He's in Clark's apartment."

"Who's Clark?"

"Clark is his partner" I said. "He helps John in whatever scam he's working
on."

"Okay," Ludmilla said. She circled one of her heavy arms about Frankie's neck.
Then she squeezed. There was a brief struggle, but Ludmilla's arm was so
strong that not even Frankie's two arms, desperately tugging on her forearm,
could stop it constricting. Her pumped biceps were like boulders beneath her
skin as they contracted and hardened. Ludmilla didn't even attempt to use her
left arm to help her in any way, ostentatiously using it to brush back her
hair as her right arm squeezed. The power in that one arm was enough. Within
seconds Frankie lay unconscious on the floor.

I felt a guilty tinge of regret that Ludmilla hadn't used her big punches on
him. I quite fancied seeing the effect Ludmilla's rock-hard fists would have
made on his calculating, ratlike face.

"What's going on here!" The washroom door slammed open.

We turned to see a security guard, who had obviously been attracted by the
noise. He seized Ludmilla by the shoulder, despite being four inches shorter
than her. That was not a good idea - even when Ludmilla was in a good mood.

Her left hand flashed round to grasp him beneath the shoulder, as her right
swept down to clamp about his knee. Her arm muscles rippled, and the guard
gave out a sharp cry of alarm as Ludmilla lifted him right off his feet! Her
muscular arms cleaned him up smoothly to chest height. He gave a moan of
surprise, struggling to break free. But Ludmilla's grip was implacable. And
now, to my amazement, her big arms continued to press upward. I watched the
big muscles flicker and flare as they pumped him up to shoulder height, then
to head height.

I gave a whimper of excitement as the twenty-five year-old's big arms
continued to press him even higher. Finally they pressed themselves straight,
suspending the 160 pound security man nearly nine feet off the ground. She
held him there, squirming, for a moment, as if demonstrating her strength,
then hurled him down onto the row of washbasins.

He hit with a shuddering crash as the row of washbasins collapsed under the
impact. He tumbled with the wreckage to the floor, landing on top of the
already unconscious Frankie. He groaned horribly.

Ludmilla stepped up and looked down at him. "Give me all your keys," she said.

"I can't do that," he mumbled painfully.

"Do you want me to give you another little ride like that?" Ludmilla asked
conversationally. I noticed that her pumped arm muscles had burst through the
flimsly lace sleeves of her top. Casually she ripped the torn sleeves off with
her hands, fully exposing the large rippling muscles of her upper arms.

"You can't..." he began.

Ludmilla bent down toward him.

"No! No! Here are the keys." He changed his mind abruptly, waved the chain of
keys in front of her.

I loved the look of astonishment on John's face when the two of us walked into
Clark's apartment.

"Wh.. What are you doing here?" John gasped.

"We're here to tell you that your time for harrassing and tormenting Pam is
over." Ludmilla said.

"Who the hell are you?" John glowered.

"I'm Pam's friend and roommate," Ludmilla said. "And I'm here to tell you that
Pam never wants to see your ugly face again!"

"Oh yeah?" John's scowl grew deeper. "Well I say none of this is any of your
business, and if you don't want some serious trouble you'll keep your nose out
of mine! Now get out!"

"How can I convince you?" Ludmilla pondered, looking round the room. She
spotted Clark's big refrigerator and walked toward it. I didn't know what she
was going to do until her fist clenched.

Ludmilla's arm drew back, and sent her fist exploding into the door of the
seven foot refrigerator. There was a bedlam of noise, the shuddering crash of
the impact combined with a screeching and squealing as the huge refrigerator
smashed into the rear wall of the room. Ludmilla withdrew her fist to reveal
the steel door badly dented and buckled. John stared, mouth wide open.
Ludmilla was demonstrating her real power now. I doubted there was anybody in
the building, of either sex, who could land a punch like that.

Krooooommmm!. Her fist drove in again. The freezer groaned and shook, tortured
metal bent and buckled, and the whole seven foot door caved in. There was a
chain reaction of smashing glass, falling bowls and collapsing shelving from
inside the refrigerator. Slowly the ruined door swung open, hanging from just
one hinge. Piles of mixed food, bottles, shelving and the fridge's internal
cladding spilled out onto the floor.

"Shit!" John stood.

"Have I made my point?" Ludmilla asked.

It was a demonstration of her power that was not lost on John. He was a bully,
and knew all about the art of threat.

He was about to speak when suddenly another man came in. He was nearly as tall
as John at just six feet. Dark haired and with a thin mustache. It was Clark.

"What the hell is going on out here?" he shouted.

"It's some friend of Pam's. She.. She's breaking up the place!" John
spluttered.

"What have you done to my freezer?" Clark yelled. "It's junk!"

"Oh? Don't you want it?" Ludmilla's arm slammed the door of the refrigerator
shut. Her other arm grasped the bodywork, then she just picked the whole
refrigerator and its contents straight up off the floor, all two hundred
pounds of it! She heaved it up sideways so that part of the weight rested on
her shoulder. Then she turned with it, took five steps forward, and smashed it
into the metal window. There was a cacophonous noise as the giant freezer
crashed into the metal windowframe, and burst right through it!

The mass of the giant refrigerator ripped the whole window out with it, in an
explosive shattering of glass and structural supports. The whole mass of
refrigerator, window frame, and window, crashed noisily to the ground three
floors below, wrecking a parked car directly beneath the window.

"That's Clark's car." I said.

"You bitch!" Clark roared, charging toward Ludmilla in fury.

But Ludmilla was far faster than she looked. Turning to face him, she swayed
to one side, and hit out with her long right arm. Her punch hit him before
he'd got close enough to touch her. The sound of it was sickening as it
impacted the side of his skull, and it stopped him dead in his tracks, sending
him staggering backward. Ludmilla's arm was so strong, the one punch seemed to
have both halted and dazed him.

But, if anything, he was even angrier than before. Fearful of her reach, he
tried to kick out at her. She just swayed backward and caught his foot in her
right hand as he kicked, holding his leg in the air. For a moment, she
continued to hold his foot up in her right hand while he struggled to keep his
balance on one leg.

Sidestepping, she closed in, to wrap her left arm around Clark's upper thigh.
Clark finally overbalanced, falling to the floor with Ludmilla on top of him.
Her right arm changed position to wrap itself round his lower leg, tightening
her grip. Her two big arms began to constrict and come together, the muscles
swelling as she pressed forward with her right whilst holding her left rigid.
Clark's leg began to bend at the knee under the growing strain. He gave a cry
of pain.

Suddenly I guessed what Ludmilla intended. Her arms were exeptional, and
packed with dense, trained muscle, but I wondered if she had any chance. I
watched the big muscles in Ludmilla's upper arms swell and harden as she
applied another surge of pressure. "Aaaaauuuggghhh!" Clark cried out in pain.
Ludmilla's strong arms were certainly torturing his trapped leg, but could
they do more?

Ludmilla frowned, and the heavily muscled arms pressed toward each other
again. Clark's leg was already twisted at a painful angle. And now there was
suddenly a horrible creaking and popping coming from the knee joint. The
massive arms constricted again - and there was a long, deep-seated, creaking
crack as his knee joint slowly tore apart, his lower leg moving into an
unnatural right-angle with his thigh! Clark screamed as Ludmilla released his
leg and stood.

Clark was now rolling on the floor howling with pain, his leg bent unnaturally
sideways at the knee.

Ludmilla raised her big arms, and flexed them in a double bicep.

Shit! I almost orgasmed right then at the pure strength in Ludmillas arms.
She'd just broken this six-foot-tall guy's leg with just the raw strength of
her biceps and shoulder muscles.

John had risen to his feet in disbelief. He ran toward us, but again
Ludmilla's long arms forestalled him. They shot out, her hands fastening
around his neck as she pushed him back into the wall. Now her arms extended,
the big muscles rippling along their length as they pushed upward, her broad
triceps flaring and defining. John gurgled as his neck stretched upward. Then
his whole body began to rise, sliding UP the wall in response to Ludmilla's
powerful arms! His feet left the floor, then rose and rose, until he was
hanging from her grip about his neck, pressed to the wall, nearly three feet
off the ground!

"Please. Put me down!" He croaked. His neck was taut and he was beginning to
choke. "I'll do anything you say!"

"You'll leave Pam completely alone?" Ludmilla's voice was steady as she held
him pressed unmoving against the wall.

"Please. Yes. I can't breathe!"

I'd never expected this. John was actually frightened of the intimidating
power in Ludmilla's arms. The twenty-five year-old was dominating these guys
I'd been afraid of for years. Both of them at once! I never thought a girl
could have such power.

"You'll never bother her again?"

"I won't!" he choked. "Please!"

Seeming with reluctance, Ludmilla let her arms relax and let him down. She
released him and stepped back. He was clearly very shaken.

"I want you and your friend here to leave town." Ludmilla told him. "I don't
trust you here. Whatever scams you run, you can run them someplace else, where
you won't involve Pam."

John was beginning to breathe more evenly again now. "No I can't leave town,"
he said. "My work is here." He was gaining courage again. "Where do you get
off, thinking you can drive me out of town." He glared at me. "You and your
bodybuilder friend, do you think you can just come here and shake me down?
I'll make you both pay for this..."

"Hit him, Ludmilla," I said.

"Okay," Ludmilla nodded. I was trembling with anticipation as she prepared her
big arms. I knew how hard they could hit, and I longed to see them punish my
tormentor. "This is to teach you not to hit your girlfriends." she said.

Her first punch cut through his defenses and sent him crashing back into the
wall. He was six two, but he had no chance against Ludmilla's appalling
strength. The blow hit him in the left side of his face, pulverising his jaw,
his cheek and his nose. He stumbled forward drunkenly, already only
semi-conscious. She was awesome. Her big arms powered into him like mortar
bombs.

There was a whoosh of air as her left arm came round to deliver the second
blow. Then a heavy crump, and a splutter as the right side of his chest caved
inward. There was a deeper crump as he was bounced powerfully off the wall
once more. He began to gasp and cough up a thin stream of blood.

Her arm drew back again. Ludmilla was not tired or even overly exerted.

"How about I give you three more like that?" she said conversationally. "Maybe
six..."

Ludmilla's power so turned me on. Her arms were like loaded weapons waiting to
tear into him. He had no defence left. She could do what she wanted.

"No No!" He began to tremble just at the thought of what those arms could do
to him.

"Then you leave town tonight, for good."

"Pam..." he pleaded.

"No." Ludmilla said. "It isn't up to Pam. I'm telling you to leave town for
good. If I hear of you within a hundred and fifty miles of this town again
after today, what I've done tonight will be just the beginning. Understand?"

He nodded.

"Hell. You're so strong!" I said as Ludmilla and I left the building.

"Yes." she flexed that huge arm of hers a final time that night. "Great isn't
it?"