TV Tussle #9: Ross and Rachel
by BeegBoy
The "on a break" debate concludes once and for all!

"Joey!" Ross called out as he entered the apartment and slammed
the door behind him.  Getting no response he called out for a
second time in a louder voice, "Hey, Joey!" as he stepped over to
the foosball table and idly began twirling a few of the knobs.
When his greeting continued to meet silence he called out a third
time, "Joey!?" with a questioning tone in his voice.
"He's not here!" Rachel shouted as she swung open the door of her
bedroom, clearly irritated by the racket and disruption.  Ross
could see she'd been napping and he'd obviously awakened her.
"Oh, sorry", Ross muttered, adding, "well, maybe he's asleep
too."
"Trust me, Ross!" she snapped, "If he was asleep you'd have woken
him up.  Shit, if he was dead you'd have woken him up!"
"My, aren't we in a tiff!" Ross sneered, "So sorry if I disturbed
your beauty sleep, but most of us mortals are out of bed before
two in the afternoon, even on weekends!"
"I've been up!" Rachel shot back, "I was reading on my bed and
fell asleep!"  Ross could see this was true since she was dressed
in a short skirt and sleeveless blouse, not sleeping clothes.  Of
course sleeping clothes would have been fine too, since in her
case that usually consisted of just a bra and panties.  Still,
enough of her tanned skin and trim figure was showing to arouse
his desires and cause him to mentally relive the highlights of
their failed relationship.
"Joey left with Phoebe hours ago", she volunteered in a softer
voice, "I think they're getting tires for her car or something."
"He what!?" Ross whined angrily as he gave the foosball knobs a
final, swift twist in frustration.  "He promised to help me move
some of my furniture out of storage!"
"Well...", Rachel shrugged, "maybe he just forgot, ask Chandler."
"I can't!" Ross groaned, "Monica dragged him along with her to
pick out wedding invitations.  Dammit, Joey promised me he'd be
here to help!  He's always breaking his commitments to me!"
"Oh, my, my!" Rachel said with a hearty laugh as she stood there
with her arms akimbo, "Ross, my dear, you of all people have no
right to complain about someone not being able to commit!"
Ross' eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he stepped around
the game table and moved closer to his petite ex-girlfriend.  Her
words were clear as a bell and cut like a knife, this being her
umpteenth reference to his brief infidelity after their initial
break up.
"Please don't start with that again..." he began, his tone still
calm but his rising anger evident.
"Well, it's just that I find it strange", she mused in a light,
haughty voice, "that you would complain about another person's
inability to commit when you can't do it yourself!"  She was
still a bit piqued over the way Ross had entered the apartment
and disturbed her peaceful day, so she was enjoying pushing his
buttons a bit in payback.  "I mean, doesn't commitment require
two people to work?"  she asked in conclusion as she crossed her
arms over her breasts and fixed Ross with defiant smirk.

"We were on a break!!" he replied loudly, clearly irritated. "I
met the girl after you insisted we step back and take a break in
our relationship!"
"Yeah, right!" Rachel snapped back, "How long after Ross, how
long was it?  Fifteen, twenty minutes maybe?  You went on the
prowl faster than it takes corn flakes to get soggy!"
"We were on a break!!" he shouted again, repeating for the
umpteenth time his defense to her charges.  To his mind he was
totally justified in what he'd done.  She had wanted to take a
break and perhaps see other people, she had suggested it; she had
demanded it!  He searched for more to say but could only repeat
his broken-record defense once again, "We were on a break!!"
"Stop saying that!" Rachel cried, placing her hands on her ears
and closing her eyes, "I am so sick of hearing that!"
"Well, it's true!" he growled, "We were on a......."
"Stop it!  Stop it!" she seethed, and as she spoke she stepped
forward, placed her palms flat on Ross' chest and gave him a
quick, firm shove.
She watched as he stumbled clumsily backwards.  Ross would have
toppled over completely if the foosball table hadn't halted his
motion.  Rachel was honestly surprised at this, being that Ross
was so much larger and taller than she was.  She knew she had
pushed hard and caught him off guard, but still didn't think he
would stumble back so far.  She would have been even more amazed
if she knew the full truth; if she knew that Ross had anticipated
her shove and braced himself, but that it hadn't made any
difference.  Shaken, Ross straightened up and gazed at Rachel
with a newfound awe.  "She's so small, so slim...", he pondered
to himself, "how can she possibly have pushed so hard, with so
much force?"

"Ross, are you OK?" she asked, genuinely concerned, "Sorry I lost
my temper like that."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine", he replied with a mild tremor betraying
his amazement at her deceptive strength.
"It's just I can't stand to hear you say that same, stupid thing
over and over!" she sighed.
"Well, what do you want me to say?" he challenged quizzically.
"You could say you're sorry!" Rachel suggested.  Her voice was
sincere and tender, but her words agitated him nonetheless.  Once
again she wanted him to apologize; implying an infidelity on his
part despite the fact that she'd put their affair on hiatus.
"Dammit, Rachel!" he pleaded, "We were....."
"Don't you dare....", she warned.
"....on a...", he continued.
"...say it!" she hissed.
"BREAK!!" Ross finished with a triumphant flourish.
A shriek of dismayed frustration erupted from Rachel's throat as
she swiftly advanced on Ross and planted her small hands firmly
on his broad shoulders.  With a gymnast's grace she leapt up upon
him until her hips were level with his chest and straightened her
arms, elevating her head above his so she now looked down into
his face the way he would normally look down into hers.  Then,
before the stunned fellow could react, she wrapped her sleek,
powerful legs around his upper body and pinned his arms firmly
against his sides at the elbows, rendering them useless.  She
wiggled her shoes off her feet and they plopped quietly onto the
carpet as she locked her ankles.
"Don't ever say that to me again!" she demanded as she balled her
small hands into fists and pounded on his shoulders.  The pain
she inflicted on him wasn't enough to make him cry out, but her
pounding did hurt.  Ross was surprised she could strike him with
such a great degree of power; but he'd have been stunned if he
knew the truth, if he knew she was in fact holding back and not
striking with all her might.
"Stop acting like a child!" he commanded as he struggled to free
his arms from the fleshy vice her thighs and calves had created.
"Oh, you should talk!" Rachel retorted, taking his cheeks in her
hands and wiggling them like a mother disciplining a bad little
boy.

Ross gyrated violently in place as he struggled to free himself
from Rachel's incredibly powerful hold, but his arms were no
match for her legs.  This didn't really surprise either of them.
Rachel kept reasonably fit, and the legs are the strongest limbs
in a person's body, but she was puzzled by the seeming ease with
which she was keeping his arms captive.  She felt the pressure
Ross was exerting to push her legs away and it didn't feel as if
she really had to work all that hard to counter and overcome it.
Ross knew it would be no picnic to pry himself free of her, but
her legs didn't look very tensed to him.  How was that possible?
Surely it was taking everything she had to keep his arms pinned,
wasn't it?
"Let go of me!" he cried, finally acknowledging it was almost, if
not absolutely, impossible to escape from her.
"You didn't say please!" she teased him as she tweaked his nose
gently.  She had been on the verge of releasing him just before
he spoke, but now found herself beginning to enjoy the situation.
After all, here she was, a "mere" woman who had complete control
of a man nearly twice her size in overall height and mass.  She
found this stirred new, unexplored emotions inside her, it was a
feeling of satisfaction combined with newfound empowerment, and
it was somehow intoxicating.  At this point she believed Ross
could certainly free himself if he went full out "psycho" on her,
but she couldn't picture him doing that and running the risk of
harming her in any way.  She smiled sweetly as she kissed his
forehead, wiggled and pulled on his ears, and tweaked his nose a
second time.
"This is stupid!  Stop behaving like a silly little girl and get
off of me!" he roared, and as he did he applied a tremendous
burst of strength to push his arms out and force her legs away
from him.  He gasped in shock when he realized that not only had
he failed to free himself, but he also hadn't moved her legs to
any measurable degree, and, worse yet, Rachel hadn't even seemed
to notice the attempt.  Actually she had noticed, albeit just
barely, and again found herself wondering if that was really all
he had.  Rachel tilted her head to one side, looked down on him
with a quizzical expression and decided some experimentation was
in order.

"You still didn't say please!" she tittered.  Then, she did the
one thing she knew would really push his buttons; she messed up
his hair.  There was nothing that drove Ross crazier than someone
messing with his hair, and the situation was compounded by the
fact that there was nothing he could do about it.
"No!  No!  Don't!!" he hollered as she laughed and continued to
run her fingers over his scalp and treated his hair like a tossed
salad.  Sensing the time was right and things were coming to a
head, she fixed her curious eyes on the struggling man to watch
the outcome of what happened next; her experiment had commenced.
Desperate, infuriated, and probably as close to "psycho" as he
could get, Ross made another, even greater effort to free his
arms from Rachel's leglock.  Simultaneously, she adjusted the
amount of strength she was using with her legs to contain him;
but she didn't increase the level, she reduced it significantly.
It was Rachel's turn to gasp in shock when she realized she still
had Ross firmly trapped.  His increased effort had gone head to
head against her diminished one - and he had again come out the
loser.  She placed both her hands over her mouth to smother an
amused giggle as Ross continued fighting her with steadily
decreasing force.  Their "dancing" had moved them several feet
across the floor and brought them over to the kitchen counter.
Seeing this, Rachel leaned back.  Her movement caused Ross to
lose balance momentarily and stumble forward a step or two, which
brought them up against the counter, allowing her to rest her ass
on it.  Sitting back lowered her position a bit to where she and
Ross were almost eye to eye.  They exchanged long gazes; his a
frown of anguish and humiliation, hers a devilish grin of smug
triumph.

"I've got you cold!" she chirped proudly.  "You've been sitting
behind a desk much too long, my dear!"
"Stop it, let go of me!" Ross whined sullenly, the bad little boy
now sounded much more like a wounded, beaten little boy.
"This is so cool..." she muttered to herself as much as him, "I
really have you, you're all mine; and you can't go anywhere until
I decide to let you!"  Her dreamy expression sharpened back into
full attention as she stared at Ross with the same smug grin and
spoke again, this time with a degree of disgust in her tone, "You
may be big Ross, but you sure aren't all that strong!"
"I said let go, dammit!" he cried as he began stepping back and
away from the counter.  Rachel felt her ass beginning to slide
along the counter and immediately reached her arms out behind
her, grabbing the far side of the counter edge with her hands.
As Ross continued moving back she arched her back and her ass
raised up off the counter.  She tightened her grip on the counter
and tensed, abruptly halting his backward motion as her arms
straightened.  Her body was now suspended above the counter with
her hands gripping its edge and her legs securely around Ross.
"Didn't you hear what I just said!" she reprimanded, "I said you
weren't going anywhere!"  As she spoke, Rachel began to bend her
arms and pull Ross back in towards the counter.  He resisted, but
her firm, slender arms soon revealed biceps, small and smooth but
rock-solid, as she used the strength of them alone to reel the
captured man in.  Even this, she noted, was accomplished easier
than she had anticipated.  Finally, her ass returned to rest on
the counter as Ross was forced back to where he was originally
standing.
"Will you stop this nonsense!" he pleaded.  He continued to fight
her, but his resistance now consisted of little more than fast,
fidgeting twitches.
"You still haven't said please!" she sighed, "Besides, this is
kind of fun, or at least it is for me!"  She reached over with
one hand and pinched his cheek, adding, "Aren't you having fun,
Ross?"  The she raised the same hand up and again messed his
hair.
"No!  Stop!  You know how I hate that!" he shouted as he pulled
back from her again, her ass lifting of the counter a second
time.  Rachel pulled again, this time she with only one hand
gripping the counter, and she managed to force him back towards
her just as quickly, even with the strength of just one arm.  As
she returned to rest on the counter her legs, while maintaining
their hold on Ross, slid up slightly to just above his elbows,
freeing his forearms for the first time.  Rachel couldn't contain
her amusement and laughed aloud.
"One arm, just one, Ross!" she exploded hysterically, "I reeled
you in with just one arm!  Just how big a wimp are you anyway?"
"This ends now!" he seethed.  Ross stepped back abruptly and, as
Rachel's ass left the counter again he brought up his forearms
and grabbed a "cheek" with each hand.  He squeezed them harshly
to the point of pinching, finding the smooth, rounded mounds of
flesh under her panties amazingly firm and resilient to the
pressure his fingers exerted.

"No, no, no!" she shrieked, "Bad boy, Ross, bad, bad Ross!"  Her
light tone told the embarrassed man all he needed to know.  His
attack on her buttocks had caught her off guard and surprised
her, but at best it inflicted humiliation on her, not pain.  He
gritted his teeth and squeezed again as hard as he could.  In
response Rachel merely shook her head and grinned at him.
"Bad, bad, Ross...Simon didn't say 'touch Rachel's ass!'" she
said in stern, mocking voice, "Simon didn't say you could squeeze
Rachel's ass!  Simon says Rachel squeeze Ross!"  With a wicked
smile she tightened her legs considerably and Ross yelped in pain
in direct response, realizing just how relaxed her prior hold on
him had been.  He immediately dropped his forearms down to his
sides and she just as quickly slid her legs down over his elbows
to lock them firm back against his body.  She reduced the force
of her legs to their prior level and easily pulled the captive
man back towards her.
"You behaved very, very badly, Ross!" she sighed, sitting on the
counter with her arms crossed over her breasts, "Whatever shall I
do with you?"  He was aware that her hands no longer gripped the
counter edge, but he also knew she could reestablish the grip in
an instant, so attempting to back away again would be nothing but
a waste of his remaining energy.
"Alright, Rachel, alright!" he surrendered weakly, "Please let me
go!"
"Nope!" she shot back at once.
"What?" he asked puzzled, "But you said I had to say please!"
"Yeah I did!" she readily agreed, "But I didn't say that was all
you'd have to do.  Besides, that was before you misbehaved, you
naughty, naughty boy!"
"What then, what?" he asked in anguish.
"Promise me you'll never, ever, say 'that' to me again!" she
demanded.
"You mean never say...." he began meekly, "That we were on a
break!" he concluded angrily.  Whipped or not, the guy still had
some fight in him.  Either that or he was just plain stupid.
With an furious growl Rachel gripped the counter and yanked Ross
in fast and hard, slamming his crotch into the counter and making
him see more stars than a planetarium could ever display.  He
probably would have crumbled to the floor if her legs weren't
holding him up.
"Oh, Ross, Ross!" she cried with the concern in her voice
evident, "Are you OK.  I'm sorry, really, but why can't you just
let this damned thing go already?!"  She released the counter and
leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck in an embrace.
Ross began to recover and noted, for all her concern, that her
legs hadn't moved an inch; they remained locked firmly around
him.
"Why can't I let go?" he asked, "How about you letting go, and I
mean that literally!"  He stepped away from the counter as he
spoke, far enough so Rachel could no longer reach back and grab
its edge.  She was aware of this but unconcerned.
"Because", she replied, "I'm keeping you right here until we
settle this thing.  It isn't a request anymore, Ross", she added
in a confident tone that reflected her new awareness of the
degree of physical strength she possessed, "It's a requirement.
You stay right here until we settle this!"
"You can't reach the counter now!" he informed her.
"So?" she answered calmly, "You can't even open a door right now,
where exactly do you think you can go?"

His hopes for a quick end to their stand off vanished and Ross
began struggling to free himself, finding energy reserves that
allowed him to fight Rachel with a renewed strength that she
found impressive, but not in the least challenging.
"You really don't get it, Ross, do you?" she sighed and slumped a
bit in resignation.  Slowly she let her legs slide down as her
whole body relaxed its grip on Ross, but didn't quite release
him, at least not yet.  Her legs remained around him as they slid
over his lower arms and then his hands; and the circle created by
her arms expanded as they slid from around Ross' neck and down
over his shoulders into a gentle bearhug, encompassing his arms
the way her legs had previously.  She let her legs unwind and her
bare feet touched the floor for the first time since she'd jumped
onto him.  Sighing gently, she rested her head against his chest
and kept her arms draped around him.  Ross relaxed as well,
relieved that the whole unpleasant, and embarrassing, experience
was finally at an end.  She turned her head up and looked into
his face, her barefoot state emphasizing the great difference in
their respective heights.
"Please, babe, just say you promise to let it go!" she asked,
"Promise to drop it once and for all!"
"It's a two-way street, Rachel", he replied gently but defiantly,
"after all, you bring it up as much as I do."
"Yes", she acknowledged, "but it's you who keeps using that one,
same, damned, irritating phrase over and over and over!"  He
sensed anger and frustration returning to her tone.
"Let's just drop it for now!" he suggested, hoping to end the
messy confrontation but unwilling to concede to her, to give her
a victory his pride wouldn't permit.  He went to move away, but
found that her arms, though wrapped around him gently, still held
him fast against her.
"Please, Ross, please just promise me!" she asked again.
"Look, I've really gotta go!" he concluded nervously even as he
tried to move away again, only to feel her arms tighten their
hold on him.  A sick, sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of
Ross' stomach.  Humiliating as it might have been, it was one
thing for her legs to have trapped him so fiercely.  Surely she
couldn't possibly overpower him with just her arms.  That just
wasn't possible, he told himself as he made another attempt to
force her arms away and failed, it just wasn't possible!  As the
extent of struggling steadily increased, without any apparent
success on his part, Rachel gradually became aware of the
situation but initially didn't comprehend it fully.  She looked
up into his face with a confused expression, wondering what was
going on as she observed the obvious strain showing on his face.
Then, she slowly moved her head back and forth, studying his
quivering arms as he braced them against hers and feeling the
pressure he was applying against them unsuccessfully.  Her face
lit up and her eyes grew wide as her mind solved the equation; he
still couldn't work himself free of her!  She looked up into his
face again and his pained expression confirmed her hypothesis.

"You're still trapped, Ross, aren't you?" she asked; though she
didn't need to hear an answer.  "This is remarkable", she gasped,
"it's incredible!  Even my arms are stronger than yours!"
"No!  It can't be!  It's impossible!  Impossible!" the larger man
wailed as he renewed his vain efforts to win his freedom.  As he
fought her, Rachel slid her strong arms up just above his elbows,
allowing him to again move his forearms to some degree.  Clearly
she was conducting another experiment, and the results, while
what she expected, were astounding just the same.  The freedom of
his forearms allowed Ross to gyrate with more energy and also
increased his leverage a bit, but it had no effect at all on the
final outcome.  His huge, thick arms remained hopelessly trapped,
clamped to his sides by her slim, toned ones.  For lack of
anything else to do he continued to struggle in her arms while
she merely stood her ground and watched him in awed silence.  She
was too stunned for the moment to even tease him as the waves of
realization washed over her and enlightened her mind.
"I'm stronger!  I'm actually stronger!" her mind shouted inside
her skull, followed by the question, "How long has this been
true?  Has it always been true?  Are other women as strong?  Are
all women as strong?  Do they know?  Do men know?  Is this some
dirty, little secret they've withheld from us all our lives?" 
True, the few times in her life she'd tested herself physically
against a man she had always lost; but now, she realized, she'd
never actually tried her best any of those times.  Like most
females, she simply assumed men were stronger (as she'd always
been told) and threw in the towel.  But now she knew something
else, she knew she had thrown in that towel for the last time.
"Never again!" Rachel muttered to herself in a low voice, "Never,
ever again!"
"Come on, Rachel, please, let go of me!" Ross croaked.  His voice
was starting to break; he almost sounded about to cry.
"Soon, sweetie, soon", she cooed gently, "but now that I've
opened the envelope, I've just gotta push it a little!"

She began to slide her arms back off of Ross but kept them firm
against him as she did.  Her forearms continued to imprison his
arms as she steadily retreated.  Finally her hands were gripping
his upper arms tightly, feeling the muscles under his shirt that
were bulging and straining fruitlessly against her.  Her sense of
awe continued but subsided some as her sense of humor and whimsy
returned.  She tightened her grip on his biceps, gauging their
size (impressive) and density (much less so).  She smiled at him
as her mind found a reference from her childhood to use as a
comparison.
"Gee, Ross", she whispered matter-of-factly, "your muscles are
large but they're not all that hard, are they?"  He groaned and
resisted, but made no verbal reply.  "As close as I can guess,
they seem to have the firmness and consistency of Play-Doh, new,
fresh Play-Doh."
"Aw, leave me alone already!" Ross whimpered.  There were no
tears on his face but his eyes were red and moist.  Rachel gazed
idly at some indistinct object across the room as she continued
to massage and squeeze his biceps; her pretty brow furrowed as
she calmly rethought her initial conclusion.
"No, no, not Play-Doh, not really", she mused as she tilted her
head to the side, "even fresh Play-Doh was somewhat stiffer than
these."  She continued groping him, ignoring both his verbal
protests and easily countering his physical ones.  She was at the
point that her actions were now those of borderline cruelty, but
she wouldn't reflect on that until later.
"Yes!  That's it, that's it!" she decided in mock bravado, "It's
Silly-Putty!  Your biceps feel like balls of Silly-Putty, great
big balls of Silly-Putty!  So nice and pliable and squishy!"  She
finished mauling his soft muscles and continued to slide her
hands further down his arms, always maintaining a firm enough
grip to ensure Ross understood she was now in complete charge.
She stopped at his wrists, grasping each one firmly with her
hands.  Hands so small they barely encircled what they held, and
so soft they felt like shackles made of silk against Ross' skin. 
Nonetheless, they held him as strongly as cast iron.  Rachel drew
a deep breath and Ross trembled with uncertainty as he saw a look
of sinister delight appear on her face.
"Time to play 'Simon-says'!" she chirped happily as his spirits
fell, realizing there was yet more to come.
"No, Rachel, stop this now, please?" Ross muttered, resigned to
the fact that his plea would fall on deaf ears.
"Simon-says hands on hips!" she giggled, and swiftly jerked his
arms up and rammed his hands against his hips.  "Simon-says on
your knees!" she continued as she pulled his arms straight down
and forced his knees to buckle.  Ross sagged to the floor but
just as his knees touched the carpet she abruptly forced his
arms, and body, back up, tittering, "Simon-says stand up tall!"
The game continued for just a few minutes but to the helpless
Ross it felt like hours of humiliation and degradation.  He tried
to offer resistance but his strength was simply no match for
hers, especially in his weary state.  She manipulated his arms
and body at will, completely in command of his every move.  It
was a strange relationship to behold; they looked like a puppet
and a puppeteer, but the puppet was the one pulling the strings.
"Simon-says hands on head!" she cheered as she forced his hands
up onto his own scalp and then added, "Simon-says muss up that
hair!" which she promptly did, forcing his own hands to do the
job.
"Stop it!  Leave me alone!" Ross whined, but again his pleas were
ignored.
"Simon-says hush, hush, hush!" Rachel cackled as she jerked one
of his hands down and clamped it over his mouth, holding it there
despite his every struggle to remove it.

How much longer this would have continued is hard to say, but it
finally ending when the telephone started to ring.  Rachel turned
her head towards the phone across the room.  Without looking back
at him, she swiftly released Ross' wrists and placed her hands on
his shoulders, then forced him down to his knees with a single,
powerful thrust.  She wrapped her left arm around his neck and
established a secure headlock, then casually strolled over to the
phone, forcing Ross to move along with her on his knees.  As she
reached the phone, Rachel lifted the receiver with her right hand
and in one quick, fluid motion nestled it between her shoulder
and chin, then she swept her hand down and clamped it over Ross'
mouth.  This was more out of instinct than necessity; as it was
highly unlikely the beaten man would compound his humiliation by
calling out for help to whoever was on the other end of the line.
Ross nonetheless reacted by grabbing her wrist and attempting to
yank it from his mouth, completely without success.
"Hello?" she began in a remarkably calm voice, "Oh, hi Joey! 
Yeah, Ross is here but he, uh, um, he's in the bathroom.  Yeah,
I'll tell him, OK, bye!"  She removed her hand from Ross' mouth,
pulling her wrist free of his grasp with minimal effort, and
replaced the headpiece in the cradle.  Ross moved his hand to
join the other one in gripping Rachel's left forearm in his
continued, futile struggle to dislodge it and escape from the
headlock she had him in.  She casually placed her right hand on
her hip and watched him for a few seconds before speaking.
"That was Joey, as I guess you heard.  He just remembered that he
promised to help you today and figured you'd be here waiting so
he called to apologize." she explained calmly.  "He won't be back
for a few more hours yet, so he said he'd help you move your
furniture next weekend."  Ross heard her words but was beyond
caring about the subject at this point.  He kept pulling on her
forearm with both hands but couldn't budge it an inch, and to rub
it in she periodically tightened her grip just to let him know
she was holding him with strength to spare.
"Well, since you and Joey have changed your plans I guess we can
spend the rest of the day together having all sorts of fun, isn't
that nice Ross?" she said sweetly as he moaned and grunted from
his forced kneeling position.  "But right now", she concluded,
"I'd like to relax and read more of my book!  Let's go!"

Smiling, Rachel briefly mussed Ross' hair with her right hand for
a few seconds then proceeded to walk back into her room, dragging
the hapless man along on his knees as easily as if he was a large
stuffed toy.  He pulled at her forearm in vain and groaned with
each heavy thump of his knees on the floor.  When they reached
her bed Rachel sat down on the edge with Ross facing her, still
on his knees.  She released the headlock as she brought up her
legs and wrapped her thighs around his head, trapping it a firm,
silky scissors hold. She shifted back a bit and lay down on her
back, reached for the book laying by her pillow and resumed
reading the novel, wondering if it would put her to sleep again.
Ross, on his knees at the edge of the bed, pawed briefly and
feebly at her legs knowing full well escape was impossible.  He
could reach her ass with his hands, of course, but knew better
than to repeat such a violation.  He tried to turn around but her
legs wouldn't permit him even that degree of freedom.
"Can I at least turn around and sit instead of kneeling?" he
asked in a meek whisper.
"We'll see, we'll see...", she answered without taking her eyes
off the book, "if you're a good boy and stay quiet, we'll see."

One week later Ross gingerly opened the door to the apartment
Joey and Rachel shared.
"Joey?  Joey, you here?" he called out in a low voice, afraid of
possibly stirring sleeping dogs, so to speak.  Failing to get a
response he slowly walked in, leaving the door open behind him to
permit a quick exit if need be.  He moved beyond the kitchenette
counter and into the living room, "Joey?"
"He's not here, Ross!" a high, feminine voice said from behind
him, causing him jump and emit an audible whimper.
Ross turned and saw Rachel in the doorway of the apartment.  She
was holding a basket of laundry.  She was also blocking his only
path of escape.  Ross raised his hands before him, palms out, and
backed away further into the apartment.  Seeing such a large man
afraid of her petite self amused Rachel, but she suppressed the
emotion.  She loved Ross as a friend and knew she had some fence
mending to do.
"Ross, Ross, calm down and take it easy", she said in a soothing
tone as she placed the laundry basket on the counter, "Joey just
went out to mail a few letters and bills, he'll be back in a few
minutes."
"Oh, OK, OK, yeah", he replied nervously, "I, I'll just wait for
him downstairs, OK?"  He moved to leave but she backed up to the
door and used her body to close it.  She didn't want him to leave
until they could talk.  Ross had avoided the coffee shop and all
their other usual haunts throughout the week, and she was certain
he had done so to avoid her.  She saw the fear in his face when
she closed the door and quickly began talking in the same low,
soothing tone.
"Ross, please, about last weekend.  I'm sorry, really, I'm so
terribly sorry!" she pleaded sincerely, "There's no excuse for
the way I treated you, but I just lost control!  I mean, it was
such and incredible revelation, such a rush to learn that I was
stronger than you that I just lost my head!"
"You could afford to lose your head, Rachel, after all, you 'had'
mine!"  he replied grimly, afraid of her but still angry over the
additional three hours she'd kept him kneeling by her bed before
releasing him, announcing that she was bored with the game.
"I'm sorry, Ross, all I can say is I'm sorry!" she repeated, "But
after years of being in the shadow of male machismo to discover
that I'm actually physically strong...."
"Stop saying that!" Ross interrupted furiously, "You are not
stronger than me!  That's downright silly!  Of course you had me
trapped, my arms are no match for your legs!  Any average woman
could do the same!  You merely beat me by using your legs to
unfair advantage!"
"At first, maybe", she began, a sharper edge to her voice, "but
then, later...."
"But nothing!" he cut her off again, "By then I was exhausted and
spent, and that's hardly a fair competition!"

Rachel opened her mouth as if to speak but remained silent.  She
tilted her head to the side and gazed at Ross, wondering if he
actually believed what he was saying.  Was he in denial, perhaps,
or did he really not understand how little effort it had taken
her to overpower him?  Did he really not understand that she
could take him even when he was at full strength (albeit with an
increased effort on her part)?  Rachel knew she had to complete
what she started, regardless of the outcome.  She had learned a
lot the previous weekend, but realized Ross wasn't quite ready to
'graduate' yet.
"Well, Ross", she began calmly, "you've had a week to recover
from our 'incident', a week to regain your formidable, superior
male strength, so let's see how you do now!"  Ross tensed where
he stood, unsure of what she meant to do.  He braced himself as
she stepped away from the door, but she didn't come into the
living room towards him.  Instead she walked up to the counter,
pushed the basket of laundry aside and put her right arm up in
classic arm-wrestling position.
"No legs this time, big guy!" she growled, "No 'unfair' advantage
this time!  Just you and me, one on one!"
"I'll cream you!" Ross snarled.
"Then do it tough guy!" she spat back, "Cream me!"
Ross strode over to the counter and locked hands with her, her
fingers barely curling around his much larger palm.  Neither one
spoke.  Their eyes, locked as tightly as their hands, did all the
communicating.  Two slight nods indicated they were both ready, a
sharper nod from Ross started the contest.  If Ross had any fear
of being unable to defeat Rachel in a direct test of strength the
doubts were buried so deeply in his mind that he was truly
unaware of them.  He had convinced himself the events of the week
before had been a combination of her catching him off guard and
starting with a vastly unfair advantage.  He knew it was just a
fluke, he was certain of it.  But what Rachel knew was far more
important; Rachel knew the truth.  Ross did experience one, very
brief moment of fear as the contest started.  He put forth such
an immense surge of power he feared he might break poor Rachel's
slim arm.  But her arm didn't break; and his fear dissolved into
awakening anguish when he realized he hadn't moved her arm at
all.

Again and again Ross pushed against the arm of his diminutive
female opponent with everything he had, either making no headway
at all or perhaps gaining an inch which she just as quickly won
back.  His brow grew slick with sweat and he ground his teeth
with each thrust, but her arm refused to surrender any ground. 
He glanced at her only to see her pretty face gazing at him with
an expression that was completely calm, quiet and serene.
"God!" he thought to himself, "She isn't even trying!  She isn't
even trying!"
To her credit, Rachel didn't tease or belittle Ross verbally, she
was past all that now; but she also had no intention of sparing
his ego or allowing him to continue living in self delusion.
"Ross", she asked quietly, "why is this so difficult for you to
accept, why?"  He continued putting everything he had into their
competition without replying, so she continued speaking, "Think
about it Ross.  You're a teacher, a professional scientist, and
you earn a very high income because you're smart, very smart.  So
why aren't you smart enough to understand this?"  He didn't know
what was more disturbing, the fact that he couldn't force her arm
down or the total calmness in her voice that revealed how easily
she was preventing him from doing so.
"Don't you see it Ross?" she continued in a steady, informative
tone, "You're a high paid professional and your sister Monica
runs a catering service, but when you both were younger she was
always the better athlete, she still is!"  Ross knew the truth of
Rachel's words, but couldn't accept that the equation applied to
this far an extent.  He'd never seriously fought or wrestled his
sister, but he did recall that she easily trounced him at any
regular sport they competed in.  But that didn't mean she was
stronger than he was, it just meant she was a better athlete,
didn't it?  Besides, Monica wasn't the issue here, Rachel was.
This was just Rachel, just "puny" little Rachel, why the hell
couldn't he force her arm down!?
"You still don't see it, do you?" Rachel queried sympathetically,
"Monica certainly isn't an idiot, but she doesn't have anywhere
near your brains, Ross.  You got all the brains in the genetic
pool of your family; you got what she didn't.  But, of course, it
also follows that she got what you didn't, as I will now proceed
to prove to you once and for all!"
"No, no, it can't be!" Ross gasped out, finally breaking his
silence as Rachel's words registered with him, "I can't believe
it, it's just not the way things are supposed to be, it's just
not possible!"  He dropped his head and produced another powerful
thrust against Rachel's arm.  She only sighed in response as her
deceptively powerful arm easily resisted his attack.
"Stop complaining, stop denying and just accept it, Ross!" she
consoled him, "It isn't like you were shortchanged completely!"
Eyes closed in determination, Ross only shook he head and kept
straining against her.
"Face it, Ross, face it!" she demanded of him, her tone causing
him to reopen his eyes and look into hers.  "You got all the
brains Ross, all the brains...." she paused, and without any
change in attitude or expression forced his arm down to the
counter, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on his.  Then, as
he looked at his pinned arm and back at her victorious face, she
concluded, "....you just didn't get very much of the brawn!"

Ross jerked back to pull away and she released his hand, allowing
him to.  There was no need to shatter his ego any further; the
events of today and last week had more than taken their toll on
his self image.  He stood back several feet and massaged his
right forearm, which was severely sore and tender from all the
exertion; Rachel's arm felt fine.  He looked up at her one final
time, she almost thought he was going to cry.  Abruptly, he
walked around the counter, passed her, opened the door and left
without saying a word, and she made no move to stop him.
"Ross, please, wait!" she called after him, but she knew he
wouldn't return.  Once again her feelings were a bizarre mixture
of exhilaration over her power and guilt over hurting a friend. 
Silently she walked to the other side of the counter where Ross
had been standing and leaned against it, pondering her thoughts.
She and Ross would get past all this, but it would take time, and
he was no where near ready to confront it yet.  Best to let him
lick his wounds and come around when he was good and ready.

"Hey, what's with Ross?" Joey's voice broke the silence and
snapped her back to reality.
"Huh, what, what do you mean?" she asked innocently.
"Well", Joey replied, "I was coming back, still about half a
block away, and I saw him rush out of the building and head down
the street!  Funny thing", he continued as walked into the living
room and turned to face her, "I called out to him and I could
swear he heard me because he seemed to pause for a moment, but
then..."
"Then?" Rachel asked.
"Well, then he started walking away again, even faster - he was
practically running!  What's up with him Rachel?"
She was searching for an answer as she watched Joey enter his
bedroom.  She admired his tight, little butt and his broad,
powerful shoulders; and she started to wonder.  In her mind, the
voice of her better nature scolded her and warned her to behave
herself; to not make things even worse than they already were.
Unfortunately, it was quickly drowned out by the mental voice of
her mischievous nature, and a wicked smirk appeared on her face.
Rachel quietly pulled herself up onto the counter and sat there,
leaning back so her hands could grip the far edge.  This is how
Joey found her when he came back out of his room.
"So, why do you think Ross was acting so weird?" he asked, then
halted when he saw her on the counter.  He eyed her curiously and
added, "Uh, I think the chairs we have are more comfortable than
the counter top Rachel!"  She just smiled at him and leaned back,
her legs swaying gently as they dangled in the air.
"What's going on here!?" he asked suspiciously, "First Ross is
acting weird and now you!"
"I think I know what it is, Joey, I really think I do!" she said
in a low, furtive voice, like she was ready to share an amusing
confidence with him.
"Well, what's the story?" he demanded with a confused smile.
"Come over here, real close, and I'll show you something!" she
teased with a wink and a grin, "and I'll let you in on a little
secret!"