The Sheriff's Daughter
by Alpesco
The sheriff's daughter is very arresting.


I was out driving on one of the backroads through the desert. It was a hot day
and I was travelling fast. Suddenly my car hit a pothole in the road. There
was a loud bang, and the steering went. Struggling to control the car, I
plowed into a ridge of stony sand, and came to a halt. I got out to check the
vehicle. The front axle had snapped right through. The car was going no
farther.

Fortunately I could see a small settlement on a ridge, about a mile away. I
began to walk. Twenty minutes later I had gained the outskirts of the small
town of Caldera, a scattered settlement that ran down from the ridge to a
steep valley. It wasn't big. I doubted it held more than a thousand
people.There was a sign beside the glass door of the first low building on the
edge of town. It read: SHERIFF'S OFFICE. I walked in.

'Can I help?' the man inside looked up from his desk. 'I'm Caleb Hatton,
Sheriff of High Mesa County.'

'I'm John Graham,' I began. 'My car's broken down just outside of town..'

Just then, the radio burst into life.

'There's a Mrs Rivera whose kid's been bitten by some sort of snake,' the
voice said. 'Can you get out there fast and see what you can do?'

'A-OK,' Caleb said, drawing on his hat. He turned to me, pointing to an inner
door. 'That's my main office. You can rest up in there until I get back.'

I went through the door as the Sheriff left. Inside was a much bigger area
with a large desk, a computer, some filing cabinets and a board full of
notices. Across the room from me was a line of three holding cages constructed
from steel bars. One of them was occupied by a wiry-looking drifter. He looked
at me sullenly, He was five feet ten tall, thin and scrawny, in rumpled, dirty
clothes, he looked about forty years old.

'What are you doing here?' A challenging female voice came from behind me.

I turned around to see a tall athletic-looking girl of about five foot ten in
black denim jeans and a black cotton top worn beneath a black denim jacket.
She had long blonde hair which hung loose, and pale blue eyes. It was hard to
tell her age exactly but she looked about sixteen.

'I'm John Graham,' I said. 'The Sheriff said I could wait here.'

'Okay,' she nodded. 'But stay out of the way. You can sit over there.' She
pointed to some padded seats in one corner.

'And you are?'

'I'm Sara, Sheriff Hatton's daughter. I help out with the office work and
general duties.'

'Hey!' the man in the cell began to yell, rattling the bars of his cage. 'Let
me out of here! I've done nothing to be locked up for. All I did was walk onto
this guy's farm looking for a drink of water. And that piece of shit drew a
gun on me and called the Sheriff.'

'He said you were trying to break in to his storehouse,' Sara said.

'That's a lie! You've got no right to hold me!' He shook the bars again.

'Be quiet!' the girl shouted back, her voice surprisingly loud and commanding.
'Save it for the sheriff. You're not getting out of there until he says so.'

The man fell silent for a moment. Then he took a different tack. 'I need the
toilet,' he said gruffly.

'You'll have to wait.'

'I can't. I've been walking round town all day looking for work. If you don't
want me to do it right here, you'd better let me go to the bathroom.'

'Okay,' the girl sighed, taking down the keys from behind the desk. 'But
that's the only thing you're getting.'

'You're not going to unlock his cell are you?' I gave a look of alarm as the
teenage girl sorted through the keys.

"This isn't your concern,' the blonde snapped back at me as she undid the
lock.

As I feared, the moment the key turned in the lock, the aspect of the prisoner
changed. He lost his tired, beaten look, and suddenly pressed hard against the
door to push himself out into the room.

'Hey!' the girl shouted. 'Stop that!'

'Why?' the man sneered. 'I'm not waiting here for your Sheriff and his pals to
send me back to jail! I'm getting out of here, now!' He began to march toward
the door.

I stumbled to my feet. All this had happened so fast. There was this tall,
gangly guy, nearly six feet tall, who the teenage girl had foolishly let out
of his cell - and now he was trying to break free. I didn't want to get
involved in restraining an escaping prisoner, but the girl was foolhardily
standing in his path.

'Out of my way!' The man lunged forward to push the tall sixteen-year-old out
of his path. But to my surprise, she didn't budge. She still stood there,
barring his way, a deep frown on her face.

'Get back into your cell!' she said.

The guy gave a sudden roar, stretching out his arms to hurl her aside. But
somehow the girl's arms seized his shoulders first. And now she extended them,
shoving him backward.

To my astonishment, the tall man was sent stumbling back to slam heavily into
the steel bars of his cell. The girl was clearly stronger than either of us
had expected, for the man winced as he hit the bars, shaking his head in
surprise. Then his face screwed up in a malevolent grimace.

This was getting bad, I thought. I moved forward to try to help the sixteen
year-old. But to my surprise she waved me back. 'Sit down, sir. I can take
care of this.'

I found that difficult to believe, but I held back for a moment, watching as
she took off her denim jacket and threw it to me to hold. As I grabbed it, I
caught my breath. Beneath the jacket Sara wore just a small sleeveless cotton
top that left her shoulders, arms and midriff bare. The teenager's upper body
was amazingly well-built. She had a narrow waist that rose out of her jeans
into a squared, sculptured six-pack, with thicker muscles than I'd seen on
most guys in my local gym. Then her body broadened to wide, athletic shoulders
and long, heavy arms. She looked amazing.

Abruptly the prisoner came surging forward again, angry now, as he tried to
grab the teenage girl in front of him.

But the instant he came within reach, Sara took a sharp step to one side, then
stretched out her right arm to grab his right wrist, twisting it back, around,
and up behind his back! He gave a cry of surprise and pain as his arm was
caught.

I was surprised that her arm was strong enough to twist his back like this.
But the teenager seemed to be controlling the adult's arm totally with just
her single arm, forcing his higher and higher up behind his back until he
squawked in pain. And now she was actually forcing him to bend forward, as he
continued to moan with pain. To my amazement, he seemed helpless to twist his
arm free or escape. This kid's arms were very strong!

'Owwww. Owwwwwww!' he yelled. 'Let me go, you bitch!'

'No way, you slimeball,' Sara said. 'You're going straight back in your cell.
And if you give me any more trouble, I'll take you apart!' With a sudden sweep
of both arms, the girl hurled him hard into the bars of the empty cell behind
him. He crashed into them heavily, giving a low moan of pain.

Sara looked at him for a second, half-stunned by the force of the impact. Then
she took a step back, raised her long, bare arms, and flexed them. I whistled.
The girl's arms had looked strong and athletic before, but that was nothing to
the way they looked when she flexed. These two huge biceps rose out of her
upper arms like mini cannonballs. Bigger than her clenched fists, the twin
biceps towered, swelled and hardened on her upper arms. Each was dense,
rounded and solid, making each arm look nearly as wide as her face.

Straightening angrily, the guy came charging toward her again. But Sara just
turned calmly to face him, and tore four easy-looking punches into his face
and body, one after the other.

The punches looked deceptively casual, but you could tell the solid power of
each blow by the sheer amount of noise it made. The harsh impact of the blows
filled the room, echoing back from the concrete walls, augmented by the deep
groans of pain of her adversary.

Crump. Crummpp. Kruuummp! Krooooomm!! The girl's heavy blows forced the
prisoner's body to buckle and bend like a rag doll, driving him staggering
back into the line of cells. The guy hit the bars hard - slamming into them
with a clang like someone striking a giant gong. But even as he hit, he tried
to come forward again.

Big mistake. Sara frowned, and sent three more big blows scything into him.
The first hit his midriff, driving all the air out of him and sending his body
slamming back into the bars. The second blow crashed into his upper chest,
drawing a sharp cry of pain as it twisted his body round, slamming his head
into the cell door. The final punch came in lightning-fast, exploding into the
right side of his face, twisting his head around through 100 degrees and
driving his whole body sideways. I gasped. Those big arms of hers were so
strong! The punches this girl was delivering were buckling the tall guy's body
as if he were a blow-up doll! He was visibly damaged and hurting, bent over
and grunting in pain. This wasn't even a fight. The forty year-old was just
taking a beating!

After the last punch, the kid stepped backward. My mouth dropped open as the
prisoner sank to his knees, clutching his lower ribs where her third blow had
hit. His face was a mess, his nose broken, one eye closed and streams of blood
running from his nose and mouth.

'Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!!' The man kept repeating the word, clearly
disorientated by the shock and the continuing pain of the blows.

'Are you going to go back in your cell now?' Sara asked calmly, her blocky
fists still clenched.

'You shouldn't have hit me like that!' The man had gone back to wailing mode
now. 'You've broken my nose. I think you broke one of my ribs. You hit so
hard!'

Sara snorted. 'You thought I was just some poor kid you could walk all over,
didn't you? But I can hit pretty damn hard. There's not many men in the county
can hit with the weight I do - even for one punch. And I can hit with that
kind of force ten, maybe twenty times at a stretch. So you can crawl right
back in to your cell at once, before I really cut loose on you.'

'Okay. But please! No more!' the man wailed as the teenage girl strode toward
him. She reached down and half-hauled, half-lifted him to his feet. Her arms
were so strong, they seemed able to support nearly his entire weight with
little or no help from his legs, the thick muscles of her arms rippling as she
moved them.

'Step inside the cell,' the girl repeated. The man groaned again, barely able
to stand. But he obeyed silently as Sara shut the door behind him, but did not
lock it.

'Wow!' I said. 'That was impressive! How did you get so strong?'

'I work out a lot,' she said. 'And I'm naturally strong. I box, I pump iron, I
do gymnastics and run. I swim, I do field sports, and this sort of thing.' She
reached up and grabbed hold of a metal beam that ran across the ceiling.
Flexing her long arms, she drew her bodyweight up off the ground until her
chest was pressed into the girder, her head held back parallel with the
ceiling. She hung there, her feet four feet above the floor, her arm muscles
smooth, rounded and solid as they swelled impressively. Next, drawing up her
knees to her stomach, she pulled herself higher until every part of her body
was at least six feet off the ground. And still she wasn't finished. Holding
her body rigid, she stretched out her legs and raised her butt until she hung
absolutely straight, parallel to the ceiling - supported only by her powerful
arms.

'Wow!' I said. 'That is awesome!'

Sara held the position, holding her body rigid and horizontal, eight feet
above the floor for another thirty seconds. then she lowered herself back to
the ground. 'I've got pretty strong arms for a sixteen year-old,' she said.
'Strong enough to handle this bozo.'

'Bitch!' the man in the cell swore.

Wordlessly, Sara turned round, opened the cell door and stepped in. I saw her
right arm move, then heard a heavy crump, like a brick dropping on to a sack
of sand from ten feet up.

'Ooooouuuugghhhh!' The guy groaned and doubled over, moaning and gasping for
breath as he slumped on to the steel bench in the cell.

'Don't ever mess with me!' Sara roared, her voice almost as intimidating as
her punches. It seemed to shake the bars of the cells with its volume.

'Sorry. Sorry!' the prisoner moaned. 'Please don't hit me again! I've had
enough. I'll do anything you say.'

'Good,' the sixteen year-old said, leaving the cell once more. 'Stay right
there. Don't move a muscle, and don't say another word.'

'Okay. But I think I need a doctor. You've bust a couple of major bones.'

'That's up to the sheriff when he comes back.' she walked back toward her
desk.

'I think I'd better go now,' I said. 'and see if I can find a garage before
dark.'

'Wait a minute,' she said poring over the papers on her desk. 'What's did you
say your name was?'

'John Graham,' I said warily.

The girl picked up a piece of paper from the desk. 'I thought so, There's a
warrant out here for a John Graham from Sweet River County.'

'That's not me.' I said.

'It doesn't matter,' said the girl. 'You'll have to wait here till that's
confirmed.'

'Nonsense,' I said. 'It's somebody with the same name as me. You can't hold me
on that.'

'I'm afraid I can. I have cause to believe you to be a wanted man, and I'm
holding you under arrest.' She strode in front of me. 'Now turn around. Put
your hands behind your back and walk into that cell.' She pointed to a cage
next to the other prisoner.

'No.' I said. 'This is ridiculous!'

'You better do as I say,' Sara warned. 'You've seen what can happen.'

'Nonsense! I'm not being put in a cell by a sixteen year-old girl!' I made to
push past her, and she grabbed my arms. She was as strong as she looked. I
could barely move my arms once she had hold of them, and her steely fingers
were biting into my upper arms surprisingly painfully. I struggled to break
free, knowing she would try to twist my arms behind me, just as she had the
prisoner's.

'This is your last warning,' The teenager's face was stern. She wasn't playing
around at all. 'Turn around and step quietly into the cell.'

I was alarmed. I wasn't going to let a kid lock me up like this - especially
not a girl. I was a thirty year old man, an inch taller than her at five
eleven, and I had rights.

'No!' I said trying to twist my arms free. But the girl's arms were
astonishingly strong. They just didn't move at all. In fact I could feel the
pain as they tightened their grip even more. I couldn't move either of them
now! And the pain as her grip tightened on my upper arms was incredible.

'Owwww!' I cried out involuntarily.

Behind me in his cell the prisoner laughed.

Pulling away, I managed to twist one arm free. I made to flail it at her to
drive her aside.

That was when I felt this horrific impact in my lower left chest. For a moment
I thought I'd been shot as I was driven backward in this intense wave of pain.

'Ouuuuuuugggghhhhh!' I cried out as my body doubled over, even as I was sent
crashing heavily back into the bare brick wall. I hit it hard, straightening
up, and banging my head.

I looked down half-expecting to see a gunshot wound. but there was nothing. It
had just been the girl's rock-hard fist that had done his. I was still in
pain, gasping for breath. I hadn't imagined she could hit so hard, despite all
I had seen! I stumbled forward,.too late realising my mistake. She took that
for an aggressive act.

CRUMMP CRUUUMMMPPP! Two more shocking explosions of pain burst in my chest. I
was slammed against the wall by the sheer force of the punches those muscular
arms of hers could deal out. I was gasping for breath, desperate.

I saw a stool on the floor beside me I picked it up hoping to use it to
protect myself. Her arm caught it, and it was twisted out of my hand. Sara
gripped its legs, flexed those huge arms of hers, and simply tore the legs
apart! There was a fearsome cracking and tearing of wood as the tall stool was
ripped apart. She hurled the remnants across the room. Her arms were so
strong! And I no longer had any protection.

KROOOMM! I screamed in pain as her fist buried itself in the space beneath my
ribs. I'd never hurt so much in all my life before! She hit so hard! I
couldn't breathe! I couldn't speak - even to beg her to stop! I daren't try to
defend myself in case it provoked her to launch another terrifying punch. She
hadn't lied about how hard she could hit! I felt sick, dizzy, then my legs
gave way beneath me, and I was on the floor.

The girl stood over me. her dense leg muscles flaring beneath the tight black
jeans she wore. Her whole body just radiated strength.

'Now get up and get in the cell,' she ordered.

'Look. You're making a mistake...' I was at last able to gasp.

'Mistake or not, from the moment I placed you under arrest you were a prisoner
here, and you were obliged to obey my instructions. Instead you resisted
arrest. That's a crime for which you can serve up to three months. Now stand
up.' Her voice was commanding.

I stumbled to my feet. I was still hurting. The girl's arms could do a lot of
damage. my body was bruised badly and it felt like one of my ribs was loose.

'Okay, now move into the cell.' She pointed with one strong bare arm.

Fearing to do anything that might provoke this powerful girl to hit me again,
I was forced to obey. protesting, I shuffled into the cell.

She locked the door behind me. 'You should have done it the easy way,' she
said, shaking out her muscular arms. 'Just because I'm a teenager doesn't mean
you can ignore me. Now you face charges of resisting arrest and assaulting a
police employee.' She slipped on her denim jacket, looked at herself in the
mirror and smoothed down her hair. I noticed that she was completely unmarked.
Neither I nor the bloodied drifter in the next cell had succeeded in touching
her.

'How can you charge us with assault?' I said. 'We're the ones with the
injuries.'

'That's your fault for underestimating me,' Sara said. 'You didn't think I
could handle you, did you?' she raised both arms and did a double bicep flex
in front of us. She had her denim jacket on, but as her arms came up into the
flex I could still see the big muscles of her upper arms swell and press
against the heavy fabric until it was quite taut. The loose denim arms of her
jacket were suddenly stretched skin tight as they were forced to take the
shape of the heavy biceps beneath. Sara's muscles could not be hidden even by
the tailored jacket.

There was a faint ripping sound from the hems. Sara immediately dropped her
arms. 'I ruin more jackets that way,' she said. 'It's fun to bust them open -
but too expensive.'

At that moment the Sheriff walked in. 'Hi Sara.' he said 'Have you had a
little trouble?. He walked over to the cage and looked at the prisoner. 'Did
he try to mess with you?'

"Fraid so," she nodded.

'Guess you taught him a little lesson eh?'

'Guess I had to, pa. You know I can take care of myself.'

'I know that,' Sheriff Hatton said, studying us. 'But why's our visitor in a
cell?'

'I decided to hold him.' She showed him the paper. 'He tried to resist
arrest.'

'You'd better do what Sara tells you to,' Caleb spoke to me. 'She can get a
little short tempered when she's crossed.'

'She has no right to arrest me and rough me up.'

'Aint you a little bit ashamed, saying that about a teenaged girl - that she
roughed you up?'

'She's some kind of martial artist,' I said, excusing myself. 'But check it
out. I'm not the man they want...'

'We'll see about that,' Hatton said. 'I trust Sara to complete the checks. If
she says you can go, you can go. I've just come back to say I've got to take
Mrs Rivera's kid over to the hospital at Rodriguez. I'll be back some time
tomorrow. Both of you prisoners - Sara is in charge until I return. You better
do as she says.'

I gulped. This was not how I had expected the day to end.