Sunbathing
by  Alpesco
Ludmilla goes poolside.


It was a hot Monday morning, and we were lying on sunbeds at the club's
rooftop swimming pool. The pool was empty, despite the heat. I was in a yellow
swimsuit, while Ludmilla was in a cut-away black bikini that exposed her back,
shoulders, and long, powerful limbs to the sun.

The twenty-five year-old east-European blonde lay on the sunbed. Her six foot
two inch body usually drew a lot of attention, but today the pool area was
empty. Her waist was extremely narrow. From the side, it was slimmer than just
one of her long, powerful thighs, and it was shielded by a washboard of
powerful abdominal muscles. Her glutes, arms, and shoulders were every bit as
strong.

Ludmilla's muscles were large enough to put most competitive bodybuilders to
shame, but they were not cut or ripped to shreds. Relaxed, they were big and
smooth, but clearly visible beneath the skin, their definition and hardness
showing only when she chose to exert them.

Ludmilla's long arms were her favorite bodypart. She exercised them heavy and
often. And they were big arms, even for a young woman who stood six foot two
inches tall. The solid mound of her untensed bicep dominated her relaxed upper
arm. But as she moved her arm to lift a pina colada to her lips, the heavy
bicep balled and swelled to the size of a ripe grapefruit. But it was far far
harder than any grapefruit. It was more like solid oak. I knew that that bicep
measured over seventeen inches cold - more once it was pumped with exercise. I
often held the tape for her when she checked her measurements. But Ludmilla
didn't enter contests. She just enjoyed being strong and getting stronger.

Three guys came out on to the roof. They were all around six feet tall, aged
between twenty and thirty. Two of them lay out on sunbeds on the far side of
the pool, but the third dived into the water and swam across. After swimming
up and down for a few lengths he pulled himself out of the water next to us,
and stared.

"Hey," he said to Ludmilla at last. "You got pretty big muscles. But they just
don't compare with muscles like these." He made a double-bicep to impress his
friends, but they weren't watching.

With a yawn, Ludmilla rolled over and casually flexed her right arm. Although
they were round about the same height, Ludmilla's massive bicep made the guy's
arms look second rate. The guy obviously worked out a little, but Ludmilla's
genetics and the intensity of her training made her arm look awesome. The
rock-hard mountain of muscle that rose on her right arm simply blew his away.

He glared at her angrily. "Looks are nothing. Women's muscles are mostly fat.
No woman can beat a real man in arm strength."

"Is that so?" Ludmilla sat up, her thick abdominals rippling into a brick wall
of muscle across her stomach as they pulled her body upright. "You like to
bet?" She placed her elbow on the edge of the wooden sunbed, inviting him to
armwrestle.

Unable to reject the challenge to his prowess, the tall man knelt. I knew what
would happen. In the few months I'd known her, I'd seen Ludmilla's strong arms
take down those of men almost twice her weight, and which looked far more
impressive than this guy's. He clearly weighed a little more than Ludmilla,
but there was no way he was going to win.

Ludmilla half-smiled as she held her arm upright for thirty seconds while the
guy tried as hard as he could to move it. She watched him struggle for a
while, straining to move her motionless white forearm. Then she said, "Are you
finished?"

He said nothing. With a half yawn, the twenty-five year-old blonde began to
move her hand. She pressed it steadily down toward the wood, watching as her
opponent struggled desperately but impotently to halt it. It was inexorable.
He was clearly exerting every fiber of his strength to resist, his face gaunt,
his arm shuddering with the effort, but he was utterly incapable of halting
his young female opponent's solidly muscled arm. The back of his hand clunked
solidly into the sunbed, and Ludmilla held it pinned there.

"So, has the strong man been beaten?" she asked.

He still said nothing, grunting with the effort as he fought to tear his hand
away. But Ludmilla's right arm was like steel, her grip fierce. He brought in
his other hand to try to tear her hand away. He was hauling at it with both
arms now, but still Ludmilla's long, densely-muscled arm remained exactly
where it was, pinning his right hand to the wooden boards.

"Let go!" He snarled.

"First admit that I've beaten you," Ludmilla said, propping her face up with
her left hand as her right continued to press down with incredible force,
resisting both of his.

"Stick it up your ass!" The man tried to stand up, using both his arms to haul
his wrist free. But incredibly, Ludmilla's outsized arm stayed exactly where
it was, the solid slabs of muscle on her upper arm and shoulder swollen and
hard as stone. I could see that her opponent was astonished by her strength.
But I was not. Ludmilla was taller than 95 per cent of men, and that height
disguised a lot of raw power and solid muscle. When you took that start, and
worked on it like Ludmilla had done, the results were spectacular. The man
fell back to his knees as her steely arm refused to budge. And now I noticed
the muscles on her forearm begin to harden, the long sinews tightening. I knew
what this meant.

A look of shock of surprise passed across her opponent's face as he felt
Ludmilla's grip tighten around his trapped hand, his mouth falling open as he
let out a low moan of pain. Again he tried to pull his hand free, but with no
more success than on his previous attempts. He moaned again as I watched
Ludmilla's strong fingers tightening about his right hand, pouring on the
pressure - and the pain.

"Oww-owwww!" He yelled softly, his face looking increasingly panicked. Only
now was he beginning to realise that he couldn't get himself out of this. Not
only could he not move Ludmilla's muscular arm, but he couldn't do anything to
stop the crushing power of her grip as her right hand tightened remorselessly
around his. He couldn't even call across for help to his two friends dozing on
their sunbeds without humiliating himself.

"Ooooooowwwwwwww!" He was moaning continuously now, as Ludmilla's long fingers
continued to increase the pressure on his hand. I knew that her grip was
awesome. It could bend iron horseshoes, it was so strong. There wasn't a lot
that could withstand it. I'd never seen anyone resist it. She just had to
concentrate and keep pouring on the power, and they always gave in. The
muscles of her forearm flared. Her opponent began to look increasingly
desperate, whimpering with pain, as he squirmed in the thrall of her steely
right arm.

"Let go of me, bitch!" he hissed, balling his left hand to form a fist.

"You better not try that," Ludmilla said softly. "Or I'll crush your hand into
a pulp."

"You'll what?" He made to hit her, but Ludmilla just tightened her grip with
her right hand. The effect was immediate. Her captive moaned with pain,
falling to his knees beside her sunbed as he tried to claw his tortured right
hand free.

"P.. please. Stop!" He was starting to beg now, his face shocked, clearly
distressed at the pain the tall blonde's hand could create.

Using her free left hand, Ludmilla grasped his forearm and dragged him up on
to the seat beside her. Both of her arms encircled his body, pinning his arms
to his sides.

The thickly-muscled arms linked, and squeezed. I watched as he struggled to
free himself. But he was able to do no more than squirm in the tall woman's
masterful grip. Ludmilla had forced his face into her shoulder to stifle his
cries. Her densely muscled arms looked like giant pythons, squeezing his
trapped body tighter and tighter.

From where I sat, I could see just how much crushing power those strong arms
were exerting. The dense slabs of muscle hardened and defined along her arms
as she continued to constrict her captive's body. His own arms were powerless
now, the circulation cut off by Ludmilla's iron grip. His whole body seemed to
be being caved inward by the immensity of the pressure her arms were applying,
but even a few yards away nobody noticed. It looked as if the two of them were
having a quiet huddle on the sunbed.

Her captive's muffled moans of pain were now being augmented by deeper, darker
grunts as Ludmilla's powerful arms compressed his torso even more. They were
pressing inward now with truly awesome force. His upper body had begun to bow
and buckle under the pressure, his ribcage distorting as her rock-hard arms
bit deep into his chest.

Unable to do anything to affect matters, I simply sat back and watched this
amazing display of raw power. The guy had no chance at all now. Ludmilla's
arms were simply too strong. He was completely dominated by his powerful,
beautiful captor. He couldn't move for those powerful arms that still
continued to tighten their grip. He couldn't even cry out for help. I could
see the visible part of his face redden and darken as he gasped shallowly for
even a thimbleful of air. He was drenched with sweat, and clearly in
considerable pain. But he could do absolutely nothing. His only hope was that
Ludmilla would weaken, and allow her arms to loosen their grip. But I knew
there was little chance of that.

Ludmilla's strength was such a turn-on. It did strange things to me to watch
her powerful arms do this to such a big guy. He was completely helpless, even
to call out, and he was taking more and more damage each moment. As I watched,
the guy's legs began to kick weakly. I heard a dull crack from his chest.
Again those thickly-muscled arms constricted. Her prisoner moaned once more,
and his legs fell still. Ludmilla gave a brief smile. But her appallingly
strong arms maintained the awesome pressure for another minute or so, although
she did not squeeze any harder. Only after about two more minutes did she
allow her muscular arms to relax, letting her prisoner slip, unconscious onto
the sunbed.

I looked across at the guy's friends. No one had even noticed what had been
happening. The guy was flat out cold, his right hand a purple, bruised mess,
and Ludmilla had done it without breaking sweat, or anyone noticing anything
amiss. She laid him flat on the sunbed, making sure that his arms did not flop
down suspiciously. As she stood, he looked just like he was dozing in the sun.

"Will he be all right?" I said.

"He's still breathing okay." She nodded. "The only real danger doing that, is
that the guy will stop breathing. But I quit tightening my grip as soon as I
felt him go limp."

"You mean you could have squeezed harder?" I said.

Ludmilla stretched her big, long arms. "I could have raised it a bit more. I
could have broken a few more of his ribs if I really tried. But once he passed
out, that was enough. He'll be out for a few hours though, and I've certainly
broken a couple of bones in his hand. But he earned that." Ludmilla splayed
and flexed the fingers of her right hand as she moved across to another
sunbed.

"You sound like you've done this before," I said.

"I found I could squeeze other kids out with my arms when I was ten," she
said. "It was so cool. I just squeezed and squeezed, and they couldn't take
it. They just flopped. And now I'm much stronger. Depending on how I grip
them, I can squeeze people out, or I can crush their ribs, or do serious
damage to their backs."

She raised her powerful arms and flexed them, giving an awesome display of
rock-hard, pumped muscle that ran from elbow to elbow across her broad
shoulders.

It was a half hour later before the guy's friends at last decided to walk
across and find him.

"Hey, Bernie. Wake up!" One of them prodded him. "You can't sleep there all
day!"

Bernie didn't move.

The man lifted his hand. It slipped out of his and flopped back down limply.
"Hey!" He yelled. "What's happened to Bernie? He seems to be sick!"

"What?" His friend came up to investigate, gently slapping Bernie's face, and
trying to pull open his eyes. "He's unconscious! He's out cold!"

"How?" The first man looked round, fastening on us. "Hey. You two! Do you know
what's happened... How he got like this?"

"Who are you?" Ludmilla asked. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"I'm Mike, this is Gary, and that is our friend, Bernie. Do you know anything
about this? I saw him talking to you."

"Ask him," Ludmilla said. "..whenever he wakes up."

"I'm asking YOU!" Mike stared at her. "And you better co-operate."

"I have nothing to say to you," Ludmilla said. "Now go away all of you, before
we tell the management you're annoying us."

"We are the management, sweetcheeks," Mike said, pointing to the unconscious
figure. "Bernie here is the son of the man who owns over half this place. So
you better do as we say - or else leave."

"I think perhaps we should go," I said to Ludmilla, sitting up.

"No." Ludmilla said. "We've paid to be here. Let them leave!"

"We're not the ones who're leaving, honey," the dark-haired, man said,
grabbing Ludmilla by the upper arm and hauling her to her feet. "You are. I
don't like your attitude, and I don't like you."

"Let go of me!" Ludmilla was face to face with Mike now. They were about the
same height, and perhaps a similar weight, but I was sure that Mike had little
idea how strong the tall East European blonde was. I saw her hand, hanging
down by her hip, and watched it ball into a surprisingly big, blocky fist.

Abruptly, Ludmilla's big arm moved, striking starkly upward, powering its
blocky fist up into the ribs of Mike. It didn't travel more than a foot, but
it moved with the immense power of her thickly muscled arm. There was a deep
crump like a twenty pound hammer hitting a sack of cement, and two dull snaps,
one after the other, like two rotten branches breaking. The dark-haired man
roared out loud in shock and pain as his whole body was lifted up about six
inches by the immense blow.

He fell back on to his feet, but the sheer momentum of the blow sent him
toppling over backward to crash onto the concrete slabs. He lay there,
writhing, clutching his broken ribs, and crying out in pain.

"You talk big, don't you?" Ludmilla looked down at him with contempt. "And you
can't take just one good punch."

Six feet away, his friend Gary looked on aghast. Just one of this good-looking
girl's solid punches had taken out this big "tough" guy.

Gary was around six feet tall, and he had to weigh at least two hundred
pounds. But he looked real nervous now. "I'm going to call security," he said,
backing away, "..and have you dealt with." He took another step back - and
toppled off the edge into the pool.

We watched him surface. Mike was still moaning in pain on the ground between
us, and trying to pull himself into a sitting position. He gave a cry of pain
as one of his busted ribs moved out of place. "Bitch!" he yelled.

Gary began to swim for the ladder at the far end of the pool. "I'll get
security!" He repeated, growing more confident as he got farther away. "I'll
get the police. You've used some kind of blackjack on those guys. You're
criminals!"

"Oh, shut up!" I could see Ludmilla was irritated as she took a single stride
to the pool-edge and dived into the water. Her dive covered half the distance
between her and Gary. I watched her swim powerfully toward him.

Gary tried to get away, to swim faster, but he was not nearly as athletic a
swimmer as Ludmilla. She reached him before he could gain the ladder, paddling
water with her long arms as her legs shot forward to grip Gary round the
chest. He cried out in alarm as her long legs linked around his body, but he
could do absolutely nothing to free himself. Ludmilla's legs were just too
strong.

He cried out again as her powerful legs began to squeeze. He thrashed about in
the water, clearly hurting, but his struggles were brief. Within seconds all
the air had been driven out of him. His struggles died away a few moments
later, and he was unconscious within thirty seconds of her legs first applying
pressure.

Ludmilla unwound her legs and stood. The water came to just below her breasts
as she stood alongside the gently-floating Gary. Her hands moved beneath him,
to grasp both his hips. Then she began to press upward. At first I didn't
realise what she intended to do. I just watched as she moved his weight onto
her left shoulder, his body facing upward, her hands still fastened on his
hips.

Then I saw the big muscles swell along her arms as they began to push upward -
and the 200 pound man's midsection began to rise with them! I gasped as his
whole body followed. Up and up her powerful arms pushed, and up and up he
went, his whole body rising out of the water as her big arms pressed higher
and higher. His legs and torso splayed loosely backward as her arms rippled
and straightened. I could hardly believe it. It seemed that nothing could
resist Ludmilla's powerful arms as they lifted Gary's whole bodyweight above
her head!

Her arms finally straightened and locked out. And she stood there with this
six-foot man held overhead, his back arching downward, only his fingertips
trailing in the water. I almost orgasmed there and then at the sheer power of
the twenty-five year-old's long, muscular arms, as they held Gary's whole two
hundred pound bodyweight above her head.

She had no need to do this. This was just a display of her awesome strength.
She turned round to face me with a grin, still holding him firmly above her
head. He was beginning to come round now, and as he did so, he started to
writhe and moan in pain. Ludmilla's powerful arms held him up only by his
hips, and the whole weight of his body was being pivoted on the small of his
back. It must be hurting like hell.

But Ludmilla showed no sign of relenting. I knew that her arms were immensely
strong. She could clean and jerk enormous weights above her head in the gym.
Holding those big weights above her head was the easiest part of the process.
I'd watched her hold a heavy barbell above her head for ten full minutes to
win a bet. I realised that those strong arms of hers were not going to weaken
easily.

And Gary wasn't able to wait for her arms to tire. He was really hurting now.
He was moaning and writhing in pain, twisting his whole body from side to side
as he tried to ease the agonizing pressure on his back.

"Please!" he screamed. "Let me down! You're breaking my back!"

"You want to come down?" Ludmilla asked conversationally.

"Yes. Yes!" he cried, "My back! It feels like it's going to snap!"

"So what do you say?" Ludmilla's powerful arms remained ramrod straight, the
body of her agonised captive, squirming helplessly on top of them.

"Please!" he screamed.

At last Ludmilla's towerlike arms relented, bending, to lower him under full
control back down to the water.

"What do you say?" Ludmilla said.

"You nearly broke my back! You two-bit..."

"Not the right answer." Ludmilla frowned.

"No. Please!" The guy was clearly alarmed. His captor's left arm circled his
neck, squeezed gently, and he went out like a light. Her hands swept back once
more to grasp his hips. Then they powered his unconscious body back upward
again, high out of the water. Her big arms straightened as she swung his body
round to hold him poised above her head, his body and legs again splayed
backward, like an umbrella.

She held his unconscious body like this for a short time, but after a minute
she rearranged her hands so that her right hand was placed firmly in the small
of his back. Then, amazingly, she lowered her left arm. And now she was
supporting the entire weight of his body on her long right arm!

I gasped as she raised her free left arm and flexed it. A massive bicep grew
and hardened, towering above her arm and her bunching shoulder muscles in an
awesome display of power, even as she continued to support his whole body
above her head with her right.

I went scrambled inside. I was so turned on by Ludmilla's awesome strength as
she held this 200 pound man overhead on one arm, her other giving a muscle
display. Both arms were thick with defined and steel-hard muscle. Her back too
was carved with deep patterns of muscle, coiling upward in thick swirls toward
the bunching deltoids of her shoulders and the thick trapezius muscles that
sloped between them.

Ludmilla held the unconscious Gary above her head on one arm for a full minute
as I stared. Only as he began to come round once more did she lower him slowly
back to the water, still using just that single arm!

"Wow! I said. "I never thought you could do that!"

"I've been practicing my one-arm presses in the gym." Ludmilla said, setting
Bernie's limp body flat-out on the poolside. "My best is four reps at 180 with
each arm."

"180!" I repeated. "That's fifty pounds more than I weigh."

She reached up, grasped the edge of the diving board, then slowly chinned
herself up, her big biceps swelling and hardening as they drew her out of the
water. She lowered herself again, sweeping her legs round Gary's waist. Then
she flexed those big arms again, this time drawing both of them out of the
water as she drew herself up and up, seemingly without effort, until her chin
was level with the diving board.

Her biceps looked truly enormous now, swollen and fully contracted as they
held the weight of both her and her captive out of the water. As hard and
large as cannonballs, those potent muscles held steady as a rock as her
powerful legs tightened around her squirming captive. He groaned in pain.

I could see that Ludmilla was enjoying this dominating display of her power.
She was simultaneously squeezing this guy into submission with her legs while
her strong arms were supporting both their bodyweights from the diving board.
Gary groaned as her legs squeezed again about his midriff. Her abs tightened
into a wall of rippling muscle as she raised her legs another foot to pull him
higher out of the water. Her legs squeezed again, and her captive fell still.

Again she held this position for a full minute before uncoiling her legs to
allow her unconscious captive to fall back into the pool. Letting go of the
board with her left arm, she held herself up by just her flexed right arm for
a minute, making a muscle with her left, then she dropped back into the pool
beside Gary.

As he regained consciousness, the six foot tall man began to thrash and
struggle in Ludmilla's grip. "This is getting tiring," she said, swinging him
round to the side of the pool. Her left hand pressed his shoulders to the pool
wall as her big right arm drew back.

"Now for a little concentrated power," she said.

With that, her big arm drove heavily forward into Mike's chest. There was a
horrible grinding crump as her solid fist impacted. It was like the sound of a
dozen different things tearing loose together. He gave a shuddering groan as
his whole upper body seemed to rattle under the force of the blow.

I gasped. Ludmilla's arm was so strong! It could do appalling damage at
close-quarters like that. Just the sound of the impact told me that the guy's
whole chest must be damaged. He began to gasp and wheeze, in obvious pain.

"I think he's had enough!" I shouted, terrified that Ludmilla would hit him
like that again.

But Ludmilla had done what she intended. He'd passed out. Her long arms lifted
him out of the water and placed him on the side. She powered herself out of
the pool, bending to lift his unconscious body up in her arms one last time,
before placing it onto one of the sunbeds.

I could hardly breathe. Ludmilla was so powerful. She'd taken three healthy
six-foot guys and annihilated them! One after the other. Almost without
breaking sweat, just using her awesome strength. Ludmilla stood by the three,
injured, unconscious bodies and flexed as I took a photo. "Those guys need to
work out a bit more," she said.

We left the three men to lie on their sunbeds, dead to the world, as we
gathered our things and checked out of the pool.