Saturday with Stacy
by BeegBoy
One Humiliating Friday Night, part II

Faces.  Swirling, circling faces drifted above Ken's head as he
tossed uncomfortably in his sleep.  Grace's face, looking down at
him with condescending sympathy, Stacy grinning with impish glee,
Sara, sad with disappointment and realization; and little Monica,
beaming with childish delight.  Ken groaned in a low voice as his
four female conquerors continued their orbiting and sounds of the
previous night echoed in his ears:

Grace: ... ... "You weren't really trying your best, were you?"
Stacy: ... ... "That's it!?  That's all you've got, big brother??"
Sara: ... ... "I saw it once on TV - let's arm-wrestle!"
Monica: ... ... "...even I'm stronger than he is, and I'll bet
 ... ... any girl is!"

The sleeping teenager twitched and trembled as he relived the
series of arm-wrestling defeats suffered at the hands of his
mother, sister, and girlfriend's sister; first losing to a woman
twice his age and finally a girl barely more than half it.  His
one victory, over his girlfriend Sara, had been proven nothing
more than an act of sympathy on her part.  He hadn't even asked
her for a rematch, knowing all to well what the outcome would
have been.  Ken had given it his best but nonetheless came out a
loser, discovering himself to be weaker than his mom and sister,
and even Monica, a girl of 12.  His eyes rolled in his nightmare
state as he observed his hand put to the table again and again
and again.  Even in his sleep, it seemed, his arms felt somehow
pinned and helpless.  His tossing subsided as he gradually sensed 
his movements actually being restricted in some manner.  Ken's
mind slowly elevated to a state of consciousness and, as the dark
mists gave way to daylight, the four faces circling above his
face were replaced by a single, stationary one; his little sister
Stacy.
"Bad dreams, big bro'?" she asked her awakening brother with a
sweet, happy smile.  Ken mumbled as he fought away the drowsiness
of sleep and found himself still unable to move, the reason why
he couldn't, and his cloudy brain, becoming clear simultaneously. 
Stacy was straddling him; her legs embraced his waist and her
hands held his wrists tightly, pinning them down above his head.
Instinctively, he attempted to throw the much smaller girl off
him, momentarily forgetting the incidents of the night before. 
He lifted his head, gritted his teeth and strained to raise his
arms a few inches off the mattress, but the younger girl merely
tilted her head to one side and giggled as she casually forced
them back down.  Despite his being 4 years her senior, 7 inches
taller, and 50 pounds heavier, Ken's strength was simply no match
for the stout, 14 year-old girl sitting atop him.  Keeping his
arms pinned, Stacy slid them across the bed with moderate effort,
negating his resistance and overpowering him with embarrassing
ease.  She crossed his wrists over his head, thus allowing her to
continue holding him down with one hand and freeing the other to
alternately tug at his ear and pinch his nose.            
"Get...off....me!" he stammered, trying to maintain his composure
and a degree of dignity with it.  He turned his head away but she
simply grabbed his nose and pulled it back forward.
"Can't you just get me off you, big bro'?  Can't you just toss
this little girl off you, big bro'?" she teased cruelly, "or are
all your big muscles still too sleepy, or too puny!?"
"STACY!" the word suddenly erupted from behind her, causing the
girl to jump as much from the sternness in the voice as the
surprise of hearing it, "Up and off, young lady, now!"  
"See ya later, Kenny!" she smirked as she released his arms and
slid off the bed, then stood and turned to face Grace, who was
clearly annoyed with her daughter.
"Don't call me Kenny!" Ken spat out as he sat up, only to be
silenced when Grace held up her hand to command it.
"Sorry, mom, guess I just got carried away." Stacy muttered to
Grace, who was standing in the doorway, "I'm really sorry Ken,
honest!" she called back to her brother as she exited the room. 
Her contrite expression remained in place until she was out the
door with her back to her mother, then it morphed back into a
smug, devilish smile.  Stacy might have behaved and handled the
situation better if she was a bit more mature, but she wasn't;
and the euphoria she experienced when proving herself stronger
than her older brother was too hard to suppress.  Silently, and
without looking back, she went downstairs.
Ken threw off his blanket, swung his legs over the edge of the
bed and sat there silently for a few seconds, feeling his
mother's eyes still on him but to ashamed to look up at her. 
Grace studied her son, sitting there in his sweatpants and tee
shirt, and still found it all incredible to believe.  Ken looked
to be a typical, healthy male of 18, with broad shoulders and
reasonably muscular arms.  She stood barely as tall as his chin,
and Stacy his shoulder, yet they both had bested him in a direct
test of strength.  Was Ken, despite his appearance, a weakling? 
Grace could conceive of either herself or Stacy being unusually
strong, but both of them?  Yet they both had beaten Ken, and
beaten him with ease; even little, preteen Monica had proven
herself stronger.  Grace concluded it had to be Ken, then
pondered if he was the exception, or possibly the male norm?  He
finally looked up at her with a sad expression as he stood and
their eyes met.  Quietly, he walked over to his tall, six-drawer
dresser as she entered his room and walked up to him.  
"I'll talk to her, honey." Grace began in a quiet, soothing tone,
"she's just young and overly enthusiastic about....."
"About being stronger than me!" Ken groaned as he completed his
mother's sentence, his voice a mix of disbelief and misery. 
"Last night was just a fluke, it had to be!" he protested further
to her, "Here, I'll prove it to you mom!"  Ken put his arm up on
the dresser as he finished speaking, clearly challenging her to
an arm-wrestle rematch.
"Oh, Ken, what's the point?" Grace asked, "What's it going to do,
other than distress you even more?"
"I've slept and I'm rested!" Ken insisted, "I was tired last
night!  Now I have my strength back!"
Then why was Stacy able to keep you pinned in your bed?" she
queried.
"I...I was still sleepy...", Ken stumbled for an excuse, "and she
straddled me before I was really awake or prepared, that's all!"
Seeing no alternative, Grace placed her own arm up on the dresser
and locked hands with her son, then she locked eyes with him and
awaited his nod for the contest to begin.  Ken nodded and at once
pushed against the smaller woman with a powerful surge of renewed
energy, confident it would ensure success.  His eyes widened in
shock as Grace continued viewing him with a calm, sad expression. 
His absolute best effort had not only failed to put her arm down,
but hadn't even moved it to any visible degree.  His mother's arm
remained erect and stable through three additional thrusts from
her struggling opponent.  Sighing again, Grace pushed back with a
steady, gentle effort and forced his arm down in a matter of
seconds, the upper arm displayed by her sleeveless blouse bulging
even less than it had the previous night.  Apparently a night's
sleep had restored her strength to an even greater degree than
his.  She held his hand pinned to the dresser as he looked at it
and then back at her in anguish; he had no more words, no more
excuses.
"Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes." she said in a low,
neutral tone as she released his hand, exited his room, and went
downstairs.

The breakfast table had always been a noisy tangle of chatter and
laughter on countless mornings prior to today; but this Saturday
morning the uncustomary and uncomfortable silence only acted as a
nagging reminder of the night before.  Grace nursed her coffee
quietly, trying to think of some way to start a conversation with
her children.  Ken also remained silent as he buttered his toast,
though he really didn't have much of an appetite.  Stacy sipped
her juice and slowly looked back and forth between the other two. 
She was full of things to say, but knew all of them would earn a
quick rebuke from Grace, so, at least for the time being, she
kept her comments to herself.  Ken reached over and retrieved a
jar of honey from the lazy Susan for his cereal and gripped the
top to open it.  The lid resisted to a degree that surprised him,
being that he was the only one who used the honey; mom and Stacy
preferred artificial sweeteners.  So how was it so tight since if
he had been the last to close it?  He made a second attempt to
loosen the top but fared no better, and a third attempt caused
him to grunt in effort, but the lid remained tightly closed.
"Need a little help, Kenny?" Stacy asked lightly.
"Stacy!" Grace snapped at once in a warning tone.
"I'm just trying to help!" the girl replied in mock sincerity.
"I don't need your help!" Ken spat back angrily.
"Stop it, both of you!" Grace growled at both of them.  She
watched in curiosity as Ken continued to struggle with the jar of
honey, wondering why he was having such trouble with it.  A quick
glance in Stacy's direction, and the cocky grin on her daughter's
face, gave Grace her answer.
"Give it here, Ken!" she said quietly, reaching out her hand.
"Aw, mom, please don't!" he groaned.
"Please, let me see it!" Grace persisted.
He surrendered the jar to his mother with a shrug of humiliated
resignation.  Grace gripped the lid and twisted.  Ken winced as
he watched the top yield to her greater strength, but she noted
the considerable effort it took for her to get it open; a degree
of effort she knew her son was incapable of.  The situation was
quite clear.  Stacy had tightened the lid on the honey jar, and
perhaps the rest of the jars in the kitchen as well, leaving them
as land mines or booby traps to reinforce her brother's sense of
inferiority and embarrassment.  Visibly annoyed, she turned to
Stacy and prepared to lecture her, knowing it would do little to
anoint Ken's wounded pride.  In fact, seeing her take action to   
"protect" him from his little sister would probably only make
matters worse, but Grace decided Stacy was a problem that needed
to be nipped in the bud.
"I am very, very disappointed in you, young lady!" Grace snarled,
"physical bullying is rude and ugly behavior, and it's especially 
unfeminine!"
"Mom, please...." Ken began weakly, miserable over the prospect
of his "mommy" saving him from being abused by the younger,
smaller girl. 
"Please, Ken!" Grace shot back, "Don't interrupt!  This involves
more than just you!  I'm seeing changes here that I don't like!"
"I'm sorry mom, really, I am...", Stacy said sullenly as she
dropped her head, truly contrite and afraid to meet her mother's
gaze.  For the moment at least, she was a just little girl again,
and one who was being severely reprimanded for her actions.
"I've heard your words!" Grace stated, still quite agitated, "Now
I'll watch to see if your actions follow through!  First off, you
will undo whatever mischief you've worked in here and anywhere
else throughout the house, then...."
"Enough, mom, please!" Ken pleaded.  He wasn't grasping the
larger issue, seeing only the immediate situation, which was that
of a 14 yearİold girl being told to stop beating up on an 18
year-old boy.  It was like something out of a Saturday Night Live
comedy sketch, except for how pathetically true it was.
"What would you prefer I do?" Grace asked him as she rose from
her chair when the telephone rang.  She shrugged, extending her
arms outward and then letting them drop to her sides in a show of
exasperation, "Face it, do you want to spend half the day running
jars under hot water to loosen the tops!?"
Grace turned away from her children, concerned about both of
them, and strode over to the ringing phone on the kitchen wall.  
She knew it wasn't unusual for siblings to fight, and for the 
stronger ones to sometimes bully the weaker ones, but this was
all too different somehow.  It was too upside-down, it was much
too bizarre. 
"Good morning, Beaumont residence", she spoke into the phone,
grateful for the temporary reprieve from the conflict at the
table.  Ken sat quietly and looked down at his bowl, unwilling to
look at Stacy and perhaps see a leering grin on her face.  But he
wouldn't have, Stacy was likewise silent and her eyes likewise
cast down.  She was still stinging from Grace's angry reprimand.
"Oh, damn, Keith, can't it wait until Monday?" Grace asked the
man on the other end of the phone with a hint of a plea in her
tone, then she followed up with, "Oh, I see, they want it first
thing on Monday!" in a more irritated voice.  Ken and Stacy now
both looked towards their mother and knew at once she'd have to
into the office to get a something or other ready for some idiot
higher on the corporate ladder (but lower in intelligence) then
she.           
"Geez, mom!" Stacy erupted, "You promised to drive me to Cindy's
house for her birthday party today, it's too far to walk!"  Grace
held her hand up for silence but did hear what Stacy said, and
resumed her phone conversation.
"Can you pick me up, Keith?  My car will be needed elsewhere. 
OK, good, thanks, see you in forty minutes, bye." she concluded
and hung up.
"No way!" Ken protested at once, knowing Grace's intention.  A
car was no use to Stacy unless Ken was driving it, and the last
thing he wanted was to spend Saturday being his kid sister's
chauffeur.
"Yes, way!" Stacy shot back at him with a grin, her devilish mood
returning.  "Hey, I know how we can decide!" she added as she put
her arm up on the table.
"Both of you, enough!" Grace shouted loudly enough to startle the
two siblings.  She hadn't raised her voice that way in years, or
needed to.  Her next words were directed at Stacy.  "Maybe you
should stay home today and work on improving your manners instead
of going to a birthday party, how does that sound?!"  Stacy once
again dropped her eyes, fearful of her mother's angry glare. 
"And you", she said to Ken, "you need to deal with this thing and
move on, and not let a little girl goad and bait you so easily!" 
Ken's first impulse was to protest Grace's statement, but he just
as quickly resolved to remain mute rather than raise her ire to a
higher lever.
"Now, as you've heard, I need to work today, but I'm leaving the
car here.  You both have chores to do, your own chores to do!" 
Grace emphasized, making it clear Stacy was not to suggest any
more contests or issue any more challenges to her brother.  "Ken,
I need you to drive your sister over to Cindy's later.  That's
not a request, it's a chore, and you will do it!" she finished,
adding, "But he is not your chauffeur!" to Stacy.  Grace left the
kitchen without another word, firmly signaling the conversation
was at an end, and went to change her clothes.  The house was
tensely quiet until she left, saying only a brisk, formal goodbye
on her way out.  

The two silently went about their tasks, Stacy clearing the table
and washing the dishes, Ken preparing to trim the hedges and
other yard work his sister would join him in later.  Stacy's mind
was alive with all sorts of new ideas and situations for putting
the screws to her big brother, but for now she held back on her
activities along with her mouth.  She was in no rush, knowing
very well she'd have lots of time alone with Ken when their mom
wasn't around.  As much as he might be irritated by her actions,
Stacy knew his pride would ensure his silence;  he would be much
too ashamed to complain to Grace that little Stacy was picking on
him!  And, much in the same way as Grace, Stacy was beginning to
wonder if she was stronger than other boys too, not just Ken.  He
certainly didn't look like a weakling or a wimp, so did that mean
boys only looked stronger but actually weren't?  She had to
ponder this further.  

Outside, Ken clipped rogue branches off the hedges, returning
them to pleasant symmetry.  After trimming the hedges he'd mow
the lawn.  Raking up the branches and the lawn was Stacy's part
of the job.  As he mowed, Ken became aware of some commotion in
the neighboring yard.  Mrs. Bishop was screaming at her son,
Kevin, as usual.  Kevin was an 12 year-old hellraiser who always
seemed to be in the dog house with his mom, but who also appeared
to be  gleefully happy to dwell there.  The Bishop's back door
slammed open as he dashed out of the house with his mother in
pursuit and swiftly disappeared around the side of the house,
going out of his way to knock over his sister's play table as he
ran.  Little Gloria, his 7 year-old sibling, cried aloud as her
social tea with three of her best stuffed animals was cruelly
disrupted; plastic cups, plates and utensils all flying asunder. 
Mrs. Bishop gave up the chase and returned to the house with an
angry grunt of defeat.  Kevin's antics were also observed by
Stacy through the kitchen window as she dried the dishes, and
immediately started her brain's wheels turning.  A few minutes
later, as Gloria was fussing and gathering up her tea set and
toys, Stacy came around from the garage with the lawn rake in her
hands.  She didn't start raking right away, but instead went over
to the fence and called to Gloria.  The youngster joined Stacy
and the two spoke privately for a minute or so, only attracting
Ken's attention when Gloria started to giggle aloud.  As Ken
looked over he saw both girls eyeing him with amused expressions
and had a good idea what his sister had just told the other.  
"You won't be attending any party if you don't get started out
here!" Ken warned her, trying to sound authoritative, though he
was secretly worrying what seeds Stacy might be planting.
"In a minute, warden!" Stacy mocked.  She and Gloria spoke for a
few more seconds, the younger girl's face becoming flush with
wonder and curiosity.  The two parted with a secretive, girlish
giggle and Stacy began raking up the branches as Ken went to the
garage to get the lawnmower.  As he walked he felt Gloria's
smiling eyes fixed on him, but he refused to look back at her. 
While Ken was in the garage Stacy continued to rake up branches
and Gloria resumed the reassembly of her tea party.  The child
just about had things restored to order when Stacy noticed Kevin
watching his sister from the other side of the house with an evil
grin.  Before she could warn Gloria he started creeping towards
the play table just as the back door of the house opened again.
"There you are!" Mrs. Bishop shouted, "Get in this house right
now!"
Kevin just laughed and continued dashing past his frustrated
mother as she descending the back steps and once again dodged out
of his way to kick Gloria's table over a second time.  But this
time, his "wimpy little sister" didn't cry or whine.  Remaining
in her chair, Gloria quickly glanced and locked eyes with Stacy,
who smiled and responded with a confident nod of encouragement. 
Then, Gloria swiftly turned in her seat, reached out with her
small hand, and firmly gripped her bullying big brother by the
wrist.  Kevin chuckled to himself when he felt her grab hold of
him.  If Gloria wanted to be dragged across the ground behind him
as he escaped from their mom, it was her funeral.  That was, at
least, Kevin's plan and intent, and the thought of his little
sister weeping her brains out as he pulled her along amused him
to no end.  His amusement was brought to an abrupt end, however,
when his forward motion came to a jerking halt and both his feet
left the ground.  Before he fully understood what had happened,
Kevin found himself ass down on the ground.  He looked over to
see Gloria, puny little Gloria, still comfortably seated in her
little plastic chair, staring at him and giggling with triumphant
delight.  Kevin figured she had managed to trip him somehow, but
realized he had no time to consider how when he saw his angry
mother approaching from across the yard.  Kevin jumped to his
feet and again began to run off, and again he found himself
jerked back and down on his butt in an instant.  The boy's eyes
widened as he looked at his grinning sister with bewilderment,
how had she done that?  How?  He also noticed now how incredibly
firm a grip her small hand had on his wrist and wondered about
that as well, but there was no time.  Seeing their mother closing
the distance between them, Kevin jumped to his feet again, but
this time he didn't try to dash off, figuring Gloria would just
pull her "trick" on him again.  He wanted to see what she was
doing so he could counter it, which he was confident he could do
with no trouble whatsoever.            
     
Kevin sneered and began pulling away from Gloria.  Actually, he
began trying to pull away from Gloria.  With his weight advantage
he did manage to pull her up off the chair, but once standing she
planted her legs firmly and stood her ground as solidly as if her
feet had grown roots.  Kevin was totally bewildered, unable to
see or understand how she was able to resist him, and worse yet,
her grip on his wrist was getting even tighter.  He had abandoned
all thoughts of dragging her through the dirt, now he just wanted
to get away.  Observing this, Mrs. Bishop first slowed her pace,
then actually stopped walking towards her children and watched
the struggle taking place.  She could hardly believe what she was
seeing, though it did amuse her as much as amaze her.  Across the
fence, Stacy watched quietly from her own yard with identical
emotions.  Kevin tried several variations to escape from little
Gloria.  He tried to pull away with slow, steady force, but that
didn't work.  She would allow him to move away until her arm was
extended out straight, then cackle as she casually pulled her arm
back in towards her, reeling him in along with it.  He then tried
several violent, jerking pulls, but those produced even less
effect.  She not only stood firmly in place, but even her arm
remained curled in towards her body, all his strength unable to
force it straight unless she permitted it.  In final desperation,
Kevin grabbed her hand, the one holding his wrist, and attempted
to pry her fingers off, but they remaining encircled around him
as secure as steel shackles.  Unable to detect any trick or
maneuver she was using, the boy's expression shifted from anger
to frustration to fear and disbelief as the simple truth became
evident:  Gloria, tiny, little Gloria, was stronger than he was. 
Mrs. Bishop stood there silently and continued watching their
confrontation, unsure if this was a good thing or a bad thing or
if that mattered at all.  Finally, with a small grin, she crossed
her arms over her breasts and resumed walking towards Kevin and
Gloria with slow, deliberate steps.  Seeing this, Kevin made
another attempt to pull away from his diminutive captor with a
sudden, running leap, but Gloria just smiled and yanked him in
back in close to her; close enough to use her other arm to apply
a headlock.  He struggled against her holds without success until
their mother arrived and took him by the other wrist.  Gloria
released her prisoner and Mrs. Bishop started moving back to the
house, taking Kevin with her.  He followed reluctantly, but
didn't resist, knowing there was no point in it. He'd been
completely overpowered by a girl five years his junior, a foot
shorter and sixty pounds lighter, so what chance did he have
against a grown woman?  The answer, of course, was none. Mother
and son continued up the steps and into the house for his
temporary incarceration as Gloria looked over to Stacy.  The
small girl literally jumped up and down in place to celebrate her
newly discovered superiority, and gave Stacy a happy thumbs up,
to which the older girl responded in kind.
"Are you gonna rake or not?" Ken snapped at her as he brought the
lawnmower out from the garage.  His time spent oiling and gassing
up the machine had caused him to miss the events of the past
several minutes.
"Oh, relax, Kenneth!" Stacy replied with a shrug, using a name he
hated being called nearly as much as he hated Kenny, "Besides,
I've just about raked up all the branches up and I can't do the
lawn until you mow it, now can I?"         
"There's also a front yard on this house!" he sneered, "Did you
rake up those branches?"  Without replying she stuck her tongue
out at him and started walking towards the front yard.
"How mature!" he snickered, in response she twirled around and
gave him the finger.
"That better, asshole?" she replied smugly, then continued on her
way before he could say anything else.  
Ken grabbed the pull cord to start the mower and gave it a firm
yank but the machine failed to ignite.  He pulled again with the
same result.  Placing his foot on the machine he used both hands
to yank on the cord a third time but still the mower remained
silent, either because the spark plug was dirty or there wasn't
enough speed or force in his pull.  He decided on the former.
"Piece of crap!" he muttered as kicked the mower and went back to
the garage to look for a rag or perhaps a new plug.  He was busy
rummaging through the work bench when he heard the sound of the
lawn mower roaring to life out back.  His first thought was of
Stacy, but he looked and saw her raking up the front yard.  Ken
walked out and around the garage to find the mower sitting where
he left it, but it was now purring away and ready to go.  He
looked around, saw nothing and no one, and shrugged, figuring the
spark had somehow ignited by some delayed action.  He began to
mow the lawn in straight rows, unaware he was being watched from
the next yard.  Sitting at her play table, little Gloria smiled
as she used her left hand to feel the biceps on her right arm, 
the arm she'd grabbed and held Kevin with; the arm she'd used to
pull the cord and start the mower after Ken's repeated failures.
Ken was so much bigger and so much older than her own brother,
was it possible, Gloria wondered.  She soon decided she had
nothing to lose by finding out. 

Ken continued to mow, oblivious to Gloria or anything else for
the time being.  He was enjoying the quiet time as he worked and
tried, temporarily at least, to forget the humiliation of the
previous night and breakfast that morning; though breaking up
with Sara stilled gnawed at him.  Gradually, his mowing brought
him closer and closer to the fence that separated their backyard
from the Bishop's.  Suddenly, a small, wooden croquet ball rolled
into the mower's path and he stopped.  Picking up the ball, Ken
looked over and saw Gloria smiling at him from her side of the
fence.  She was standing on a concrete block, so the fence was
only as high as her lower chest. He gently tossed the ball back
to her with a curt smile and continued mowing.  When he returned
to the same spot in the next row he found the ball in his path
again.  He looked over and, sure enough, there was Gloria beaming
at him from the fence.  He retrieved the ball for a second time
and again tossed it back to her with a huff.  
"Do that again and maybe I'll just keep it!" he warned.  Gloria
stuck out her tongue in the same manner Stacy had, and that
unnerved him a bit, remembering the two girls had been talking
and laughing earlier.  Upon returning to mow the next row Ken
again found the ball waiting.  Gritting his teeth, he stepped
around and picked it up for the third time, but didn't toss it
back to Gloria, who was still watching him from the fence. 
Instead he walked towards her with a stern look on his face.  He
knew she had thrown it there intentionally, and he knew he was
losing patience - what he didn't know was that he was doing
exactly what she wanted.                 
"Now stop this, Gloria!" he commanded in his adult tone, "I have
work to do and I'm hardly one of your silly little playmates!"  
Gloria didn't say a word.  She simply smiled, looked up at the
much taller boy who was virtually a man, and knocked the ball out
of his hand.  Then, before he could react, she reached her arms
across the fence and around his waist, grabbing him as tightly as
she could.  It was true that she caught Ken completely off guard,
but she was nonetheless amazed to discover her arms were strong
enough to pull him forward several inches until he was pressed
flush against the fence.  The girl had him, now she wondered if
she could hold him.

"Ooopuummpphhh..." Ken emitted in shock as the air rushed out his
throat when Gloria squeezed him tighter.  Recovering quickly, he
placed his hands on the fence, braced himself, and pushed.  He
took in breath as he slowly backed himself away from the fence. 
Gloria countered by exerting more force with her small arms to
try to draw him back towards her.  Ken only managed to move back
a few additional inches before, much to his dismay, his motion
was gradually slowed and halted.  Then his arms began to tremble
as they struggled against the girl's arms in a direct test of
strength between him and a child less than half his age.  Ken's
teeth clenched in strain as his mind screamed with embarrassment
at the thought of needing to work so hard to resist the power of
the much smaller Gloria.  He didn't think it could possibly get
any worse, but soon realized he was wrong; it could get worse,
and it did.
"Ah!" Ken gasped.  He felt his arms continue to tremble and, even
worse, weaken.  Soon, they were bending inward as they slowly
yielded to the superior power of hers.  His eyes glazed over in
horror as he realized the contest was no longer a standoff - she
was pulling him back in towards the fence!  Soon his stomach was
pressed firmly against it for a second time.  Abandoning his
failed tactic to free himself, Ken reached back and grabbed for
her forearms.  He was able to establish a good hold by forcing
his fingers between her arms and his back and encircling her
wrists completely with his hands.  He took a deep breath and with
all his strength yanked at her arms, but she didn't yield so much
as an inch.  Even more humiliating, Ken could tell by feel that
her hands were pressed flat against his back, so he couldn't even
lie to himself about his failure to get free being due to her
hands being clasped or locked together.  There was only one clear
reason he couldn't break Gloria's hold, she was the stronger of
the two!  After a second and third equally unsuccessful pull at
her immovable arms, Ken decided to try something else; but when
he tried to remove his hands he found his fingers tightly wedged
between his back and her forearms.  As tight as her hold had
been, she'd been able to make it tighter still.  Finally, with
tremendous effort, Ken managed to pull his hands free, but even
as he did Gloria swiftly gripped his wrists with her own small
hands before he could bring his arms forward.  He closed his eyes
and tensed his body in a desperate effort to free them, but after
a struggle that was incredibly brief she drew her arms in and
pressed them firm up against his back, pulling his imprisoned
arms along with hers.  There the two stood.  A college freshman
overpowered and helpless in the arms of a girl who had yet to
graduate from second grade.  An additional surge of panic rushed
through Ken when Gloria started to elevate her small, deceptively
powerful arms and he felt his feet leave the ground.  She had
decided to see if she was strong enough to hoist him over the
fence, and obviously she was.    

Later, Ken pondered what might have followed if he hadn't been
rescued from his predicament at that moment.  His escape wasn't
the result, sadly, of some untapped reserve of strength he found
within, nor was he freed with the help, God forbid, of his own
little sister, Stacy.  Ken's deliverance was obtained by the
sound of a voice.  Mrs. Bishop's voice.
"Gloria, lunch is on the table, come in and wash up!" she called
out.
The girl turned her head and looked back in response but she but
maintained her hold on Ken.  Ken also looked up, terrified at the
prospect of being seen this way by Mrs. Bishop; what would she
think, or what might she interpret?  Much to his relief she
didn't appear at the back door, but merely called to her daughter
from within the house, as she now did a second time.  With a
disappointed sigh, Gloria released Ken and gave him an abrupt
shove with one hand, causing him to tumble backwards and trip
over the lawnmower.  She giggled, stuck her tongue out again, and
delivered a first class raspberry.  Then, curiously, she looked
past Ken and winked just before she turned and pranced inside to
have her lunch.  His bewilderment and shame now elevated to a
higher level, Ken sat there and put his head in his hands,
shaking it slowly and sadly.  He heard Gloria's giggles fade as
she ran further away from him, but also became aware of another
sound coming from behind.  It was like a low, gasping wheeze.  He
soon recognized the sound as someone laughing so hard they were
unable to get the noise out.  Ken lifted his head and, hoping
against hope, turned it and looked behind him to see who Gloria
had winked at.  Stacy was sitting on the ground, in much the same
position as he was, about twenty feet behind him.  Her upper body
heaved in silent laughter and her arms were folded across her
stomach as if to hold in from exploding.  She gradually caught
her breath and found her voice.      
"She had you!  She had you!" Stacy wheezed happily, "You couldn't
even break free from a tiny, 7 year-old girl!"  
He didn't know how long she'd been there or how much she'd seen,
but her statement told him she'd seen more than enough.  Ken
considered saying something but realized there was no point in
doing so.  He stood up quietly and scowled as he dropped his head
and resumed mowing the lawn.  Stacy raked up behind him and they
finished the yard without speaking, but every time their eyes
met, his sister fixed him with a knowing, mirthful grin.

Two hours later, after showering and shaving, Ken sat in the car
waiting for Stacy.  Mercifully, she had avoided him since they
finished in the yard, giving him time to mull over what happened. 
While he was dressing he glanced out his window down into the
Bishop's yard and, from a safe distance, witnessed Gloria testing
her newfound abilities further.  She watched quietly from behind
a small bush as her brother Kevin, the former bully who was still
being punished, silently climbed out his bedroom window in an
attempt to escape from the house.  Gloria was on him the second
his feet hit the ground, and in less than a minute he was down on
his butt with his back pressed against the wall.  The small girl
easily held his arms pinned against the house as she sat on his
legs and blew raspberries in his face.  She could have dragged
him back to their mother, but no doubt found what she was doing
instead infinitely more fun!  Even from a distance Ken could see
the concentrated effort poor Kevin was using to push against her, 
all to no avail.  He turned away to finish dressing, leaving
Kevin to handle his own dilemmas, and secretly glad at the
possibility that perhaps his own situation wasn't a unique one. 
Ken was eager to be on their way and impatiently tapped the car
horn twice, hoping to hurry Stacy along.  She finally emerged
from the front door with an impatient wave of her own and walked
to the car.  As she strode along, Ken couldn't help but notice
how much more mature she appeared when she dressed herself up
nicely.  Cindy's party was far from being formal, but a simple
dress, blouse and make-up worked a noticeable conversion on his
kid sister, who usually lived in t-shirts and jeans outside of
school.  She had selected a light pink cap-sleeved blouse that
contrasted with and accentuated her deeply tanned arms.  Her
brother couldn't help but notice how smooth, but thick, they
were, with no hint of bulge or sinew.  They looked downright soft
and feminine, so how on earth could they possibly be so damned
powerful?  How could such arms be stronger than his own?  How? 
As Stacy opened the car door Ken noticed something else about her
that was different.  It was the amount of make-up she was wearing
on her face.  More than usual, much more.
"I doubt mom would approve of that much war paint!" Ken informed
her.
"How's mom gonna know, Kenny?" she sneered.  With those words she
cupped her left hand around his right biceps and gave it a firm
squeeze that caused him to visibly winch in pain, letting him
know that her words had been a warning.  "Being a snitch won't
earn you any points with mom, the only thing it will do is get
you hurt!  Now can it and drive!"
Trying not to appear shaken he started the car and backed out of
the driveway.  Ken wanted to appear calm and in control, but the
idea of being physically threatened by the younger, smaller girl
was like a rock in his stomach.  To compound the matter, he had
glimpsed Stacy's upper arm as she'd squeezed his, and not even a
hint of muscle had appeared.  The painful pressure he'd felt had
been delivered with minimal effort on her part.  Stacy switched
on the radio and turned up the volume, signaling that she had no
desire to make further conversation.

They arrived at Cindy's house and Ken's intent was to drop Stacy
off and get the hell out of there.  He figured he could salvage a
few hours of peace at home and watch the game on TV, as he had
originally planned to do with Sara; though now he would be alone.
"When do you wanna be picked up?" he half shouted to be heard
over the radio.
"Let me check." she replied as she turned away towards the house. 
Ken noted, with some relief, that her voice had dropped several
notches on the sarcasm scale.  Stacy vanished around the side of
Cindy's house and Ken waited for her to return....and waited...
and waited......and waited.  Ten minutes later he emerged from
the car with a furious snarl and stampeded towards the backyard. 
It was bad enough to suffer her teasing and threats, but there
was no reason for her to be such a disrespectful brat.
"Stacy!" he hollered as he spotted her among the small crowd.
"What, huh?" she said as she turned in response to hearing her
name shouted in such a manner.  Her eyes met Ken's and widened as
she realized what the situation was.  "Oh, geez, Ken, I'm sorry,
really I am!" she pleaded as she approached and met him, "I got
into a conversation with Toni as soon as I got back here and I
forgot you were waiting, honest!"  Ken knew his sister well
enough to know her explanation was genuine and sincere, she
hadn't intended to instigate him.  Several of the teenagers in
the group, both male and female, stared at Ken due to the way he
had entered the party.  A few shrugged and rolled their eyes then
went back to what they were doing when he stormed in, figuring it
was for Stacy to deal with.  
"Sorry I got so hot, but I thought you were..." he began.
"I wasn't!" she cut him off, calm but agitated, "I just got lost
in the conversation.  Go home and I'll call when the party breaks
up."
Ken turned to leave, having embarrassed himself without any help
from Stacy.  His initial fear and concern, that upon arriving she
had told all the other girls of last night's and this morning's
events, had proven groundless, at least so far.  None of the
girls were smirking or smiling at him.  In fact, now, with one
exception, they weren't looking at him at all.  The exception was
Cindy's older sister, Elise, a slender 16 year-old who remembered
Ken from high school and found herself quite attracted to him.
"Well, if mom's home by then she may come and get you, so you
better peel a few layers of make-up off your puss!" he called
back to her defiantly.  Stacy, in no mood for his stupid, and now
hopelessly silly, male posturing, just ignored him with a huff
and rejoined the party.  

As Ken walked towards the driveway the rear door opened and
Cindy's mother, Gretchen, emerged from the house. Their eyes met
and he nodded a polite greeting.  Gretchen Kruger reminded Ken
somewhat of his own mother.  She was a bit shorter than Grace and
a bit stouter in build.  Ken wondered how strong the hefty woman
was, than realized such a thought wouldn't even have entered his
mind a scant twenty four hours ago.  The woman's eyes brightened
considerably when she saw him.
"Ah, Ken, good, good!" she chirped, "A fine, strong young man,
just what I need!"  Considering recent events, the statement gave
Ken pause as he turned his attention to her.  Mrs. Kruger had a
slight German accent, and she tended to speak in an "old world"
manner that enhanced the effect, "Over here, please, now I don't
need to disturb Mr. Kruger's nap, he's such a bear when I do!"
Ken followed her around the far side of the house listening to
her as they walked. "The other boys here are all your sister's
age, still boys!" she explained, "But you can stand in for my
grumpy Mr. Kruger very, very well indeed!"  
     
They came to a halt by a large, galvanized steel washtub and a
wicker basket full of apples.  Mrs. Kruger, who apparently had
"old world" customs to go along with her style of talking, was
convinced the young people at the party would enjoy having a
good, clean, old-fashioned apple bobbing contest.  Ken managed to
keep from laughing, but broke into a broad grin at the thought of
how humiliated Cindy would be and, better yet, how bad Stacy's
make-up would look after plunging her head into a tub of water a
few times.  He'd definitely stick around to see that!  There was
an external faucet located above the low hedgerow that grew flush
against the house, but it had no hose attached to it.
"That Mr. Kruger, ach!  My husband lends the hose to a neighbor,
but does he get it back for me?  NO!  He does not!" the woman
sighed, "But with your help we will make do!"
Mrs. Kruger emptied the basket of apples into the washtub and
then she and Ken lifted it together, holding it aloft between
them under the faucet just over the hedgerow.  Certainly it would
have been easier to leave the tub on the ground while it filled,
but with the hedge in the way and no hose that simply wasn't a
viable option.  Mrs. Kruger reached for the faucet but paused,
distracted when Elise and Cindy approached them and Cindy began
to protest her mother's ancient concept of party fun.
"Oh mom, please, you can't be serious!" Cindy whined.
"Oh, stop, they all like it, you'll see!  Right Elise?" Gretchen
asked.  The older daughter simply smiled noncommittally at her
mother and kid sister, this was one fray she was keeping out of.
Amused as he watched, Ken reached for the faucet to turn on the
water but it resisted his effort as if welded in place.  He made
a second attempt with considerably greater effort but the faucet
handle still stubbornly refused to open.  He wondered how long it
had been since the faucet had been used.  Then, he noticed Elise
had been watching him while Gretchen and Cindy were debating the
relative mirthful merits of a group apple bob.  Cocking her head
slightly to one side, Elise reached for the faucet with a curious
look on her pretty face.  She brushed Ken's hand aside, pressed
her fingertips against the round handle, and casually twisted it
open as it protested with a metallic groan and the water began to
flow.  Ken's heart sank as she fixed him with an innocent, amused
smile and placed her other hand over her mouth.  Surely he just
had an awkward grip on it, she believed, or more likely his hand
was wet and slipped, unable to get a firm grip.  
"Guess I don't know my own strength!" Elise quipped, her words
meant strictly as a jest.  She flexed her slim arm and nothing
appeared.  She was acting mostly out of desperation now; having
only wanted Ken to notice her and achieving her goal by showing
him up.  "I'm sure you loosened it for me", she muttered, fully
believing he had.  As a final, clumsy joke, she winked at Ken as
she said it, only deepening his own self-doubts further.
"Oh, I just want to die!" Cindy moaned as she stormed away into
the yard.  Elise glanced quickly at Ken with a final little smile
and then followed after her sister.
"Cindy is so silly, her friends will love this, she will see!"
Mrs. Kruger stated confidently.
"Huh, oh, oh, yeah, I guess so!" Ken sputtered as he turned his
head back towards her, having watched Elise walking away with awe
and wonder.  She was built like a model; slim but not too thin,
not scrawny, yet it seemed she had turned the faucet handle so
easily!  How?   

He and Gretchen stood there making small talk as the washtub
filled.  The water flow was relatively slow due to low pressure
so the tub filled at a steady, lazy pace.  As it did, it also
became steadily heavier and heavier.   Both of them were holding
the tub handles with both hands but Ken was finding it harder and
harder to hold his end aloft as the overall weight increased. 
Surely, he thought (hoped) Mrs. Kruger was also feeling the
effects of the weight and would soon ask him to lower the tub to
the ground.  To Ken, the situation became some sort of a "last
stand" for his male pride; his brain practicing some unique form
of mental denial despite the realities he'd so recently been
forced to confront.  He couldn't be the first one to lower his
end while the woman was holding the other, he just couldn't!
"Whew!" Gretchen muttered with a low gasp.  Ken was elated,
thinking she was about to comment on the weight of the tub and
suggest they lower it.  But her additional words, and the actions
that accompanied them, proved exactly the opposite.
"It certainly is getting warm out here in the sun!" the woman
said.  She removed her left hand from the handle of the washtub
and wiped the hair off her forehead.  Then, to Ken's dismay, she
casually dropped her left arm to her side.  Not only had she not
suggested putting the increasingly heavy tub down, but she was
now holding it up with just one arm, whereas Ken was struggling
to hold his end up using both of his.  As she continued to make
light conversation Ken's responses were gradually reduced to a
series of nods and mild "uhİhmms" as he concentrated his efforts
on holding up the washtub; but he was losing the battle.  Slowly
and relentlessly his end of the tub started to lower as the
weight of it became too much for his arms to support.  Oblivious
to his struggle, Mrs. Kruger waved to a neighbor across the
street as she continued to easily uphold with one arm what the
teenage boy was barely managing with two.  A person passing by at
this point couldn't help but notice the embarrassing situation
Ken was in; his one saving grace was that the newly arriving
partygoers were all entering the backyard via the other side of
the house.  His arms trembled as they gradually surrendered their
battle with gravity and soon the water was lapping at the rim of
the washtub on his side; but on Mrs. Kruger's end it remained
several inches below it.  Ken grunted weakly as the water began
to dribble over the top.
"Look out there, Ken!" Gretchen cried when she saw the water
spilling over, "Lift your end up or you'll get soaked!"
He closed his eyes and pushed up with everything he had, but was
only able to lift the washtub an inch or so, and his arms quickly
faltered, causing him to lose the small gain he'd made and the
water again crept over the rim.  Seeing the strain on his face
for the first time, Mrs. Kruger lowered her end of the washtub to
stop the overflow, but the fix was only a temporary one as Ken
continued to lose ground.  Soon the water began to flow over the
rim on his end again, and the bottom of the washtub began to
crush the hedgerow.  Seeing no alternative, Gretchen shifted her
position, reached over with her free left hand and took hold of
the handle Ken was struggling with.  His arms screamed with
relief as the weight of the water filled vessel on them wasn't
diminished, but lifted away entirely.  Ken's mouth dropped wide
as he watched Mrs. Kruger lift up his end of the tub with her
free arm as his hands fell away.  There she stood, holding the
tub aloft and level, well above the hedgerow, completely by
herself; and if she was having any degree of difficulty doing so
nothing in her stance or demeanor betrayed it.  Her thick arms
appeared firm but completely untensed, and her face showed no
sign or hint of strain, only a curious look of concern for the
young man before her.    
"Are you feeling alright, Ken, you look tired?" she asked him
gently.  At that point she couldn't contemplate any other reason
for his being unable to handle the weight of the washtub, though
she found it odd for a powerful looking boy like Ken to be having
so much difficulty with it.  He looked at her as if searching for
an answer but wasn't able to produce one.  
"Maybe you should lay down before you drive home", she suggested,
"Anyway, this is full enough now!  She backed away with the tub
in her thick, strong arms and Ken noted, with astonishment, that
the water was now within two inches of the top.  The weight of
the tub must have increased by nearly fifty pounds since she had
taken sole possession of it, yet it was still no challenge for
her to carry!  How?  For her part, Gretchen privately wondered
why the weight had been too much for Ken to handle.  
"Turn the water off, will you please?" she asked as she stepped
away and turned towards the backyard.  She had only taken two
steps when a grunting noise behind her, and the sound of the
water continuing to run, caused her to turn around.  

Gretchen Kruger cocked her head, in much the same manner as her
daughter Elise had earlier, as she beheld Ken struggling with
both his hands to turn off the faucet.  The water continued to
flow smoothly out the pipe as he grunted and strained to turn the
handle and cut off the flow but was unable to accomplish what
appeared to be a simple task.  Watching from her vantage point in
the yard, Stacy could hardly contain her amusement.  She may not
have told anybody anything yet, but that didn't mean she hadn't
done anything yet.  Knowing that Mrs. Kruger had planned to have
Ken assist her, Stacy had raced over to the faucet and tightened
the handle.  She figured if the woman had gripped the faucet it
wouldn't have mattered, but, as she'd hoped, Ken had tried to
open it and failed.  The frosting on the cake was seeing slender
Elise open it for him!  Stacy had continued to watch, mesmerized,
as her brother faltered in his attempt to match strength and hold
his own with Mrs. Kruger in supporting the weight of the washtub. 
And now, he couldn't even turn the faucet off!  Stacy actually
wondered if she'd really needed to tighten it in the first place! 
Mrs. Kruger lowered the full washtub to the ground and placed her
arms akimbo, shaking her head slowly and sadly back and forth as
she watched Ken fight his lost battle with the faucet handle. 
She quietly stepped over and with one hand she yanked both of his
away from it, with her other hand she gripped the faucet herself
and closed it with a fast, firm twist.  The only resistance she
noted from it was audible, as it emitted the same metallic squeal
they heard when it was opened.  
"You...you really couldn't turn that?" she asked Ken.  His face,
miserable with defeat and humiliation, told her the rest of the
story, "That is so sad", she muttered sympathetically, "so very
sad!"
"No, no, it was just slippery!" Ken protested.  He turned away
from her, knelt down, grabbed the handles of the washtub and
attempted to lift it in a desperate attempt to deny and disprove
the truth.  His neck tensed and he turned his face up with his
teeth clenched and his eyes glued shut in effort.  Ken looked as
if he was trying to lift an elephant, and for all the progress he
made that might as well have been the case.  The washtub remained
on the ground as if cemented there, even the water stayed smooth
and still on the surface as his futile effort to lift it failed
utterly and completely.  He collapsed to the ground with a gasp
for air, his hands landing in the muddy earth to stop him from
falling completely onto his back.  Mrs. Kruger looked down at him
with the same look of sympathy, now slightly tinted with a look
of mild distaste.
"Such a weakling you are!" she muttered low to herself so Ken
wouldn't hear, "To think I am stronger than such a strapping big
boy, so sad!"
"Everything going OK here, mom?" Elise's voice broke in as she
approached them and saw Ken on the ground, "uh, are you alright?"
"Oh yes, yes!" Mrs. Kruger said quickly, not looking to further
the poor boy's embarrassment, "He just slipped, that's all!"
"Oh, yeah, I guess the water made the ground slippery! Elise
chirped, "Anyway, let's get this show on the road!"  
Eager to have some innocent fun at her sister, Cindy's, expense,
Elise couldn't wait to see her humiliated expression when the
apple bobbing contest was announced.  Before her mother could say
anything, Elise knelt down and gripped the washtub in the same
manner that Ken had, and like Ken she attempted to lift it.  The
similarities between the two events parted at that point as the
slender girl casually lifted the washtub and carried it towards
the backyard.  Granted, her steps were a bit slow and guarded due
to the weight she was carrying, but carrying it she was, as Ken
noted with a pained expression on his face.  Elise paused after
taking a few steps and looked back at him, cocking her head in
the same curious manner as before, then she smiled at him and
continued on her way.
"Ach!" Gretchen said, amazed to see even her daughter Elise, whom
she considered a "skinny little slip of a girl", was able to lift
and carry what Ken couldn't even budge.  She gripped Ken by the
upper arm to help him to his feet, felt his sizable biceps yield
to her fingers, and fully understood how deceptive appearances
can be.  As he got to his feet Ken found it impossible to look
her in the eyes, so he meekly stared at the ground.
"Your mother told me she and Stacy have joined a gym.", Gretchen
said softly, adding the suggestion, "maybe you need to join with
them, I think, yah?"
"I need to wash my hands, may I use the bathroom?" he asked,
still looking away from her and not addressing what she'd said.  
Mrs. Kruger followed Ken and watched as he quietly entered her
house.  She lingered in the yard and slowly looked over the crowd
of young people partying there.  She studied the boys and girls
and made some interesting mental notes and comparisons.  Even at
this age, the early teens, the boys were already noticeably
taller and broader shouldered than the girls; but then Gretchen
noticed something else as well.  The boys appeared muscular, to a
reasonable extent, but she noticed their arms were generally slim
and sinewy, with their developing biceps showing.  The girls, on
the other hand, showed no degree of muscle at all, but Gretchen
couldn't help but notice something that she found to be very
significant.  With little exception, the girls' arms were all
noticeably thicker than the boys', especially the upper arms.  To
the naked eye they appeared plump and soft, but they were thicker
nonetheless.  Mrs. Kruger had always thought, as had been taught,
that this was due to layer of fatty, feminine tissue that gave
women their curves.  Now, she wondered if that layer of soft
tissue hid something from view, hid the truth from view.  She
wondered if the softness served to disguise the strength of the
structure beneath; an underestimated amount of strength, maybe a
superior amount of strength.  Furthermore, she noticed the slight
biceps visible on the slender arms of the thinner girls were
smooth and nowhere near as defined as the boys' biceps, but they
appeared just as big, even slightly bigger.  Mrs. Kruger quietly
wondered, just as Ken's mother Grace had wondered.  How Stacy and
even little Gloria had wondered.  They all wondered, as more and
more women wondered, or were at least beginning to wonder.  

"Apple bobbing time!" Elise announced as she lifted the washtub
onto a picnic table, gleefully watching Cindy's gape of horror.
"This is so cool, not!" Stacy teased as she stood up next to the
older girl, "I'll bet you're loving every minute of it!"
"Oh yeah!" Elise shot back, "There's nothing like watching your
kid sister writhe in agony!"  Elise turned towards Stacy and
followed up with a question, "Hey, aren't you Ken's kid sister?"
"Guilty as charged!" Stacy replied, "I'll gladly sell him to you
though!"
"Actually, I think he's kinda cute!"
"AH, AH, barf-o-rama alert!!" Stacy cried, the typical response
of any young girl who discovers another female considers her
drudge of a male sibling "cute".
"No really, I do!" Elise persisted, "Though I know he's dating
Sara."
"Actually.....", Stacy intoned, "they broke up last night...."
"Really?" the older girl inquired with rising hope, "I thought he
was acting a little funny today, is that why?"
"Well, actually...", Stacy began with a smile, "..actually
there's a bit more to it than that........."

In the bathroom Ken took his time washing his hands and splashing
water on his face.  He looked at his reflection in the mirror and
anguished over the day's events.  Finally he dried himself and
decided to go home; Grace would have to pick Stacy up later, he
couldn't confront Mrs. Kruger again, not now, not after what had
happened.  As he exited the bathroom he heard the sounds of the
ball game he'd intended to watch and his spirits lifted a bit. He
glanced into the family room and, looking over the back of the
couch, saw the television on and tuned to the game.  Mr. Kruger
was probably watching it, Ken thought as he edged into the room
to watch for a few minutes before leaving.  As he stepped around
the front of the couch, expecting to greet Mr. Kruger, he halted
when he realized it was actually Elise sitting there.  After her
brief conversation with Stacy, she had pranced across the yard
and into the house, her passing barely noticed by her mother, who
was standing by the door and gazing at the party crowd, lost in
some deep mode of thought.      
"Oh, sorry...", Ken whispered as he started to back away.
"That's OK!" Elise whispered, wanna watch the game?  As she said
the words, the girl extended her slender arm and gripped Ken by
the wrist, halting his retreat abruptly and completely.  He made
another, firmer attempt to pull away, but Elise countered with a
mild tug and completely negated his resistance, pulling him
closer to her with, she discovered, incredibly little effort. 
With another tug she pulled him down onto the couch next to her,
her eyes wild with joy and discovery.
"God, it's true!" the girl giggled, "Everything Stacy told me is
true!"  Ken attempted to rise off the couch and Elise allowed him
to, but she didn't release her grip.  She tugged and pulled him
down again, quickly releasing his wrist as he began to stumble. 
She stretched her arm out straight across the back cushion behind
Ken as he collapsed onto the couch.  Before he could recover, she
wrapped her hand around his far arm just above the elbow and
tightened her grip.  He struggled as he looked over and down on
the smaller girl in resignation.  She had overpowered and trapped
him with just one arm; his right arm caught in her soft but
powerful grip and pinned to his side, his left arm wedged tightly
between his body and hers.  He gasped, grunted and groaned in
both strain and humiliation, but all the strength he could exert 
was no match for Elise, or, more correctly, Elise's right arm. 
She gently grabbed his chin with her left hand and forced him to
face her so she could kiss him, then she released his head and
sat back with her head resting on his shoulder.   Elise could
barely contain the joyful feeling of empowerment and superiority
this was giving her.  As a final blow to Ken, she picked up the
remote control and clicked around the channels, leaving the ball
game behind and stopping at a three hour romance movie festival.
"Oh, this is so much better!" Elise cooed in Ken's ear as she
pinched his cheek, "Of course, if you don't want to watch this
you can get up and leave, or try to!" she laughed.  Ken could
only sit there and sigh.  His struggles eventually subsided as he
accepted the fact that Elise was also stronger than he was.  He 
wondered if a woman or girl still existed who wasn't. 

"What a bust!" Cindy whined as she, Toni and Stacy entered the
house.  The apple bob had, quite naturally, been a complete and
dismal failure, sneered at by the boys and girls alike.  Toni
went to use the bathroom as Cindy went to her bedroom for some
cassettes in hopes of getting everyone to start dancing.  Stacy,
having noticed the car was still parked out front, was wondering
what had become of Ken.  Her face broke into a wide, sinister
grin when she tiptoed into the family room and quietly peered
around the couch.  Ken and Elise sat quietly together, very
together, on the couch, watching a romance movie.  She had her
head resting on his shoulder and it looked all sweet and lovey
dovey, except for the intermittent trembling from Ken, that
indicated his periodic, and futile, attempts to escape Elise's
iron grip.  His struggles would have been undetectable to someone
who didn't know what to look for, and had become so feeble that
Elise no longer even noticed them.  Sensing a presence, Elise
looked over and smiled when she saw Stacy enjoying the view.  The
older girl smiled and winked at the younger one as they exchanged
nods of mutual understanding.  Stacy then withdrew without saying
a word and without Ken seeing her.  Perhaps, she thought, he'd
suffered enough for one day.  Besides, she could always wait for 
tomorrow to tell him what she saw and get some extra fun and
mileage out of it!  Stacy left the room and met both Toni and
Cindy in the hallway.

"I hope these cassettes can get some dancing started before this
party becomes a total disaster!" Cindy mused.
"This stuff looks good!" Toni offered as she checked out the
tapes.
"Yeah, I know", Cindy sighed, "but most of the guys are talking
about sports and cars now that they've finished laughing about
the stupid apples!"
"Yeah, they've broken off into a clump", Toni agreed in a
defeated tone, "how will we ever get'em to start dancing now?"
"We'll make 'em dance!" Stacy suddenly announced with a smile.
"Huh?" Cindy asked.
"What?" Toni queried.
"I said we'll make them dance!" Stacy repeated confidently.
"Sure, Stacy, sure!" Cindy smirked and grinned.
"Yeah!" Toni laughed, "Then they'll go shopping with us, too!"
"If that's what we want, sure!" Stacy stated as she crossed her
arms over her chest.
"Reality check, girl!" Toni said, "Guys never do what you want!"
"Right, unless we force them to!" Stacy countered.
"Reality check two!" Cindy informed her, "We can't!  How can a
girl ever hope to force a guy to do anything!?"
The wheels in young Stacy's mind starting spinning rapidly again,
alive and buzzing with the countless possibilities.
"Let's just go back outside and gather the girls together!" Stacy
suggested to the other two, "I want to tell you all about what I
discovered last night!  After that, we'll even have ourselves a
little demonstration!"  Their curiosity thoroughly wetted, Toni
and Cindy followed Stacy outside.

Gretchen was now sitting in the kitchen, still thinking deeply
and looking at the teenagers in her backyard through the window. 
As the three girls passed through on their way out, Stacy saw the
look on the woman's face and recognized the expression she wore;
the look of wonder and untapped potential as she absentmindedly
felt her own biceps.  Stacy paused as Toni and Cindy went outside
and gently touched Gretchen on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Just sit there and watch what happens next, Mrs. Kruger!" Stacy
giggled, "I guarantee it will be better than an apple bobbing
contest!  This party is just getting started!"