Bob's Girlfriend
by Alpesco
I Meet Bob's Beautiful Strong Girlfriend.


I only really knew Bob as a fellow worker in the sales office. We crossed paths a lot, so I wasn't surprised one weekend when we had a lot of sales projections to work out, that he invited me up to his house to finish off. It was a rambling old house on the edge of town, with some woods behind .

Bob opened the door and invited me in. The house had wooden floors and walls and simple fittings. A woman came into the room behind him. He had mentioned his girlfriend, Elaine once or twice at work, but I had never met her. She was about ten years younger than Bob at twenty three, blonde, slender, and surprisingly tall, with long, sleek-muscled arms, and strong athletic legs. At six feet tall, she was almost three inches taller than Bob. She wore a short black mini dress that left her arms, shoulders, and long, muscled legs bare.

"This is Elaine, my girlfriend," he said. "She's an artist."

"Hi." She shook my hand. She had a surprisingly strong grip.

"I'm Jeff," I said, trying not to show how much my hand hurt..

"Nice to meet you. And hallo, Bob." Her long arms wrapped themselves around his waist and squeezed. I saw his waist crush inward under the pressure. With a silent stretch of her back, she lifted him eight inches off the floor. I knew that Bob weighed 160 pounds, but this seemed no effort to her at all. Her long arms tightened around his waist, compressing his body into an hourglass shape as they linked behind his back, continuing to support his weight. Holding this position, she kissed him, keeping him where he was for what seemed like several minutes.

"Elaine's a strong girl," Bob said, slightly embarrassed as he came up for air. He didn't seem at all concerned that his girlfriend was still holding him in her solidly-muscled arms.

"I believe that women shouldn't be afraid of their strength," Elaine said as she walked across the room, still carrying Bob gripped tight. Her arms gave him another squeeze. Bob gave a grunt of discomfort, which he tried to hide.

"Okay. Put me down now." He said.

"Are you telling me what to do?" Grinning, she squeezed again, her long arms sliding past each other as she applied still more pressure. His spine arched involuntarily backward and he gave a yelp of pain.

"What are you trying to do - break my back?" he asked.

"That's nothing." Elaine grinned. "I can squeeze a lot harder than that." Her arms tightened again.

"Owww. Owww! Owww! Owwwww!" Bob howled, his body squirming in her relentless grip. Elaine looked like any ordinary girl, but she certainly had very strong arms. "Enough! I don't want my back broken!"

"Do you give?" Elaine grinned.

"Yes. Damn you! Yes"

"That wasn't very nice," she said, still grinning broadly. "If you're going to give, do it nicely." Her arms squeezed again.

"Owwwwwwww!" Bob gave a long continuous howl as his legs and body writhed in pain. "Okay. I give. I give. Pretty please! Is that nice enough for you?"

"I guess that will have to do." Reluctantly, Elaine put him down and unclasped her long arms.

Bob gasped with relief, using his freed arms to massage the small of his back where Elaine had gripped him. "Owww! Your arms are so strong! You're going to do me some serious damage with those bear hugs of yours!"

She gave a grin and flexed. From out of nowhere this huge bicep suddenly gathered and grew. Her arms were long and clearly muscular, but I hadn't expected such cannonballs of muscle to be concealed in them. "That's impressive!" I said.

"It's seventeen inches, or close as dammit," she said. "It's a pretty strong arm. I've always worked out, ever since I was a kid. I just love running, gymnastics and rock-climbing." She sat down on the sofa in her short black evening dress, her arms bare

"She's a lot sportier than me," Bob said. "I prefer watching a ball game." He struggled to open a large glass pickle jar. "Hey sweetheart.." he said, offering the jar to Elaine.

"He loves having a fit, strong girlfriend," she said, taking the jar in one hand. She gripped the metal lid with the other, and twisted it open with a loud pop, her long fingers bending the metal lid.

"There she goes with the metal again," Bob said. "Did you know that Elaine is a sculptor?"

"Let me show you some of my work," she said, leading the way through to a large workroom made out of a two-car garage.

There were several large constructions standing here, made up of iron piping, sheet metal, steel, copper rods and other large objects including a manhole cover and an old engine block. These were obviously artistic creations, fused and welded together into shapes resembling trees, animals and abstract subjects.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I like them," I answered, moving closer to get a look.

"I make my figures out of bent and welded scrap metal."

A heavy cannister of gas stood in my way. I tried to move it, but it wouldn't budge.

"That weighs a hundred pounds." she said, gripping it with one hand and lifting it clean off the floor, before swinging it into a corner.

She approached an eight foot high figure that looked like a giant insect. It was made mostly of heavy iron rails, welded together. "This is not quite finished yet," she said. Her hands gripped two of the rails and her muscles hardened. They were amazing. She was so slim, but when her muscles exerted themselves, they grew and grew. Slowly the inch-thick iron rail began to bend, twisting in her hands.

"I like to work the iron by hand," she said, "I love to feel the connection between me and the metal as I force it into shape." There was a groan from the inch-thick rail as she spoke - and it bent even further, into a deep arching curve. She admired the new shape, then exerted her left arm again to bend it some more. This time the groan from the metal was even deeper as the metal twisted into a tight curve. It was amazing to watch. Elaine's arm muscles were actually stronger than the iron!

On the far side of the room there was a heavy metal frame with several wooden boards slotted into it.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"Oh. That's Performance art. I use it to demonstrate my karate."

"Really?".

"Just watch this," Elaine said.

She held out her arm and then made a tight fist. Her hands were long and looked quite delicate and artistic. When she drew her hand into a fist, however, it changed completely. The long fingers curled into a large, solid fist, which looked like a heavy club at the end of her long arm. The arm drew smoothly back. Then, without warning, it launched itself forward at eye-blurring speed. Almost too fast to see, her heavy fist impacted the highest of the wooden boards. The inch-thick board cracked, splintered, and flew apart.

Before I could react, Elaine turned to the next one. This time her fist went right through in one blow, smashing the ten inch square board into five separate pieces. Jagged splinters of wood flew everywhere.

"That's some punch!" I said, impressed.

"That's nothing," Bob said. "Why don't you show him your triple punch, honey."

"Okay." She blew a few specks of wood dust from the back of her fist, and then stepped to one side, facing three concrete paving slabs, each an inch thick and a foot square..

"I have to focus a little for this," she said. She took a half step back, clenched her fists, and half-closed her eyes. There was a moment's pause, then suddenly: Crack! Crack! CRACK! Her arms moved so fast that I felt a breeze Three loud cracks echoed around the workshop followed by the sound of concrete rubble hitting the floor as all three, inch-thick slabs flew apart.

"Wow!" I gasped. "That's so powerful!"

Elaine looked pleased at my reaction. "That's how I like it," she said. "Actually I'm experimenting with a six punch sequence next."

"Do you punch concrete blocks too?" I asked Bob.

"Hell, no," He shook his head. "Elaine tried to teach me once, and I damn near broke my hand. I need these hands for the computers."

We went out, through the garage into the garden. Bob had a small swimming pool next to the lawn. As we came up to it, Bob playfully tried to push his girlfriend in. She resisted.

"I think you need to cool off," Bob laughed, pushing harder. Elaine was only a foot from the edge of the pool, and I was sure that she would go in. Bob did too. He weighed as much as her, and was pushing hard. But Elaine's long legs braced, the dense muscles defining themselves and hardening as she leant into him, her arms fighting his. And despite all Bob's efforts, she didn't move. She was planted like a marble statue at the pool edge with Bob straining against her. She laughed as she held him at bay. "You'll not get this dress wet!" she said. "The only one going in the pool tonight is you."

At this, Bob intensified his efforts. He bent to get better leverage to push her in. But it was Elaine's strong arms that were beginning to dominate the situation. Her arms curved over Bob's shoulders as he bent to push her backward. She leaned forward over his back, her long arms circling his waist from behind. They linked around his stomach, then, without warning, she lifted, taking his feet and lower body right up off the ground!

Bob groaned in surprise and alarm as Elaine swung his legs and lower body upward, supporting his whole weight in her linked arms! Within two seconds he was being held

upside down, his legs waving in the air as Elaine's arms gripped him round the waist. I gasped. Elaine was so strong! She could throw Bob around like a doll! She held him upside down for a moment, then turned to face the small swimming pool. She held him in position for long enough for him to realise what was about to happen. Then, with a twist of her arms, she propelled a howling Bob into the water. He broke the surface with a huge splash. Elaine stood straight with a broad grin. She was completely dry, and did a double bicep flex.

"It looks like your girlfriend has your number," I mocked Bob as he broke surface.

"Don't you make fun of my man," Elaine gave me a challenging look.

Taking this as an invitation to join the horseplay, I ran at her - and came to a dead halt as I crashed into her lean, hard body. It was like running into a tree trunk.

She grinned. "I'm stronger than I look."

Bracing myself, I tried to push her back toward the pool.

"Is that all you've got?" she mocked.

I pushed harder as she gripped my wrists. Suddenly I found my arms being stretched apart. She was so strong! She was pulling my arms out wide, and now she bent them behind me. I found myself being bent backward as Bob laughed. She picked me up and carried me toward the water. I couldn't resist. I was trapped.

She held me cradled for a moment, then turned and tossed me effortlessly into the pool. I cried out as I flew out cross the water before I hit, sinking deep into the shockingly cold pool. I gasped back to the surface to see Elaine stood on the edge of the pool in her dry dress. Seeing me, she raised her arms and flexed again in victory. The muscles were startling.

Lowering her arms, she reached down and hauled Bob out of the pool, leaving me there.

"She's a great girl," Bob said. "But just a little bit too strong for comfort!"

"He can't handle me!" she grinned. "Anyhow, I've got to get ready. I almost forgot - it's contest night at the martial arts center."

"Why don't you come along?" Bob said. So a half hour later we got in his car and drove to a hall in town.

Bob and I waited in the main assembly area as Elaine went to change. "I'm drawn against Elaine," a tall woman said, looking at the notice. "Can I default?"

"I don't think so," a man said grimly.

When the inter-club contest began, I noticed that the compettors were all wearing bulky reinforced padded jackets that left their arms bare.

"This is full-contact sport," Bob said. "Those jackets are four inches of padding with wooden ribs to prevent injury. And no-one is allowed to send hits to the head."

It didn't take long for Elaine to appear. I noticed that her black protective jacket looked lighter than all the rest. "I prefer the lighter padding," she said. "It gives me greater freedom of movement so that I can use my speed and my arm power more."

In her first match she was facing the woman I'd seen at the noticeboard. The woman was as tall as Elaine, but looked very nervous, almost frightened. She kept her distance, attempted a half-hearted kick, then fell to Elaine's first glancing blow.

Next up for Elaine was a man of about five feet ten. They circled for a few seconds. She kicked, did a sweep with her leg and took him down. He got back up. At once her long, muscular arms delivered two sharp punches to his upper chest. Both struck while she was still outside his reach. I could see what Elaine had been saying about her speed. I also realised what she meant about her heavy striking power. To my surprise, the man was knocked straight back down onto his back again, She must have hit him a lot harder than it looked. Her opponent looked shocked, but he got up a second time, seeming to find it a lot more difficult than the first. He seemed more uncertain on his feet now, steadying himself as he tried to hit out, but Elaine was a lot faster and her reach looked about a foot longer than his.

POW! Elaine's punch looked easy. But it hit with the power of a steam-hammer. Everyone in the room was shocked as her opponent staggered three steps backward. Elaine had the swift movements of a dancer but the brutal power of a longshoreman. POW! Another hit, just as hard, made the watchers gasp. Her opponent turned a full half-circle, and then collapsed to the ground. And he stayed there. It took me a moment to realise that he was out cold! Elaine took a step back, watching her victim as he lay stretched out on the canvas. The referee examined him and Elaine was declared the winner by knock out. She raised her long arms above her head.

"A lot of the guys dont like to stay in the circle too long with Elaine," an instructor said as the men picked up the six foot blonde's unconscious opponent, and put him on a trolley. "She's got a great intimidation factor. She has enormous reach, she's really fast, and it really hurts when she catches you with a punch. She hits harder than anyone else in the club."

"Really?" I said. "But she's so slender..."

"Most of my power is in my arms and shoulders," Elaine came up to ringside to watch her opponent being wheeled out. "They're pretty big and very strong." She shrugged her shoulders, tensing the deltoids to display their size and thickness. "That gives me an awful lot of power that most people don't think I have. I love surprising guys with my strength. It doesn't matter that my body is slender. It's what's up here that counts." She flexed her right arm. "You don't need a body like Mike Tyson in order to pack an effective punch."

"She's right," Bob said. "You just can't believe how hard Elaine can hit when she wants to. She got real mad one day and punched straight through the kitchen door. It's solid pine, and she split it right in half, from top to bottom."

The final fighter that night was the top guy from the other club. He was called Pat Holmak and stood six feet three inches tall and must have weighed 240 pounds. He sneered at Elaine, giving the impression that he didn't want to be in the ring with her. He seemed quite expert, and for a while they traded jabs and feints. She ducked out of a reverse elbow jab that passed near her head.

"Elaine's getting irritated," Bob said.

"Is that bad?"

"For her opponent - yes."

She backed off and kicked straight-legged. Her heel crashed into the padded jacket around his ribs. He crashed backward into the ropes.

"He sure felt that!" Bob said. The man looked hurt. Suddenly he lunged forward. Elaine spun and gave a side kick. With a cry of pain, he was on the floor. His team-mates were shocked, and started urging him on. Some were making comments about him being put down by a girl.

He rose, looking determined but Elaine looked even more severe. She looked very intimidating now. And her long, densely-muscled arms were ready. Krump. Krummpp! KROOMM! Once again the watchers gasped out loud as three big punches tore in to Holmak's heavily padded body. Despite the padding. the large man groaned in pain as each one crashed in. It was startling how hard Elaine could hit!

Her opponent roared in fury, and swung at her head. People gasped as he only just missed.

Elaine frowned. She was really angry now. I watched as she stood back and her big, long arms ripped in five huge punches. The noise was explosive. Five deep crumps echoed round the hall, each like a thirty pound lump of rock hitting a sack of cement from ten feet up. The final two punches seemed to lift Holmak right off his feet as they hurled him backward. As the last blow struck, Elaine danced back with the lightness of a gymnast. But she was still frowning, her arms poised ready, fists tightly clenched. Holmak was still standing, but at a strange angle. His face and body were frozen, his torso bent at forty degrees. He stumbled backward, gasping in pain, then fell to his knees. Everyone gasped as the large man keeled over onto the canvas in the fetal position, moaning in pain.

He lay there as the referee counted him out. The judge proclaimed Elaine the winner. She raised her powerful arms above her head as several people went to look at him.

Elaine came over to me and Bob to get our congratulations. "That's another championship," she said. "I must have a room full of trophies, but I always like getting new ones."

The medic examined him "You hit him really hard. He has a shitload of broken ribs! Your kick must have snapped the reinforced struts in the body-armor, and then those punches...! They snapped his ribs like twigs!"

"That's why I stopped after five," Elaine said, unbuttoning her chest protector.

"You could have hit him with more?"

"Sure." Elaine said. "It's no use being able to hit that hard if you can't do it more than a couple of times." She clenched her fists, turned to a heavy punchbag hanging in one corner of the gym and blasted a deafening sequence of intimidatingly hard fast hard punches. I counted five, ten, twelve, fifteen, eighteen before she stopped. At the end everyone was gasping.



Elaine steadied the wildly swinging punchbag, then flexed and took the cheers.

"Holmak's hurt quite bad," an instructor said. "He won't be fighting again this year."

"That's too bad," Elaine said. "But hey. This is full-contact sport. If he wants to compete, he just has to take his chances."