Beaten To The Punch
by brooksie (brooksie@pacificcoast.net)
A teenage daughter shows her Mom's date how strong the women of the house are before her Mom has the chance to.


Author's note: In case anyone is expecting this story, based on the
title, to be about boxing...it's not. It's another wrestling tale.

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As I stepped from the bathroom, one towel wrapped around me while
rubbing my hair vigorously with another, I heard Julie's voice coming
from downstairs, her voice sharp and demanding.

"Down!" she commanded, "On your knees!"

Then a few seconds later, another order, this time with a slightly
softer, more teasing tone.

"Both knees."

I looked down over the railing from where I stood in the upstairs
hallway, halfway between the the bathroom and my bedroom, and observed
my 15-year-old daughter engaged in a "mercy fight" with my date, Andy.
Actually at this point, it wasn't much of a fight anymore. Andy was
already down on one knee, and with Julie relentlessly forcing his wrists

to bend backward he soon dropped to both knees.

Although my muscular, athletic daughter had not yet caught up to me in
overall strength or size, she held clear superiority in one area. Julie
had been a gymnast for most of her young life and quickly discovered
that a combination of good genes, hard training and very supportive,
inspirational parent (that would be me) allowed her to excel not only in

so-called "women's events" but also to be able to perform the strength
moves (such as the Iron Cross, a postition on the rings requiring great
upper body strength) that were normally done only by males. Ever since
she's been a small girl Julie seemed fascinated by her ability to lift
her own bodyweight, using the strength of her arms alone, especially
once she realized that most girls, and a lot of the boys, couldn't. All
through elementary and into high school, her biceps rivaled the biggest
of any of the boys in her classes and she began to engage regularly in
the armwrestling contests to which she was constantly being challenged.
Although it was her biceps that were singling her out for attention,
Julie soon discovered that, in addition to technique, armwrestling
superiority depended a lot more on wrist and forearm strength. Between
all the chinning, pullups and gymnastic work plus the plethora of
grippers, tennis balls and whatever else she could find to squeeze, by
the time she entered her teens Julie had developed a powerful set of
forearms and a crushing grip that she loved to show off by challenging
anyone who was willing to mercy fight. The result was usually a foregone

conclusion and this contest with Andy was proving no exception.

"Say it." Juilie urged. "Say mercy or I'll keep squeezing."

"Okay, mercy. You win," Andy responded, in a voice contorted with pain
into a half-groan.

Julie smiled as she released her grip. Ever the good sport, she offered
Andy her hand and helped him to his feet. Seeing the flushed look of
embarrassment on my date's face, she spoke up.

"Don't feel bad, I always win at "mercy". I've beaten lots of guys. I
have really strong hands."

Andy nodded in agreement as he stared at her arms. Never one to miss a
chance to show off her muscles, Julie flexed her arms.

"Look at these," she said, indicating her biceps. "Fifteen inches. One
for every year I've been alive," she chuckled. "Want to try an
armwrestle?"

Andy looked uncertain.

"It'll give you a chance to make for losing at mercy," she offered.

They lay down on the floor facing one another, raised their arms and
locked in their grip.

"Ready?" she asked.

Andy nodded again.

"Okay, on three. One...two...three!"

They began to strain as their arms tensed up. For a couple of seconds,
they wobbled in the upright position. Soon the tide shifted in Julie's
favour as she began to force Andy's arm over. It took a few seconds for
her to get his arm tilting at about a 45 degree angle and then no time
at all as she took him down the rest of the way.

"I win," she called out happily.

"Your arm strength is unbelievable," Andy said, unmistakable admiration
in his voice.

I smiled to myself. I knew he was a secret female muscle admirer. I
suspected it when he asked me out but, like a lot of guys, he seemed
ashamed to say anything about it to me directly. I left off
eavesdropping and went into my bedroom to continue getting ready for our

date. By the time I'd finished drying my hair, applying a bit of makeup
and had slipped into my favourite dress, I could hear more sounds of
struggle coming from downstairs. Scooping up the pair of sling-back
pumps I was planning to wear, I went out into the hallway and peeked
over the railing again. This time Julie and Andy were engaged in a
full-blown wrestling match and she had control of one of his arms in a
half-nelson. Keeping her weight over top of hem she managed to seize
Andy's other arm by the wrist and bring him face down on the floor. I
was expecting she'd turn the hold into a full-nelson and then use it to
pull him back over into a bodyscissors, a combination hold that was a
favourite of hers and one she'd used on me many times in our regular
mother/daughter matches. But instead of doing what I thought she'd do,
she released the half-nelson and got hold of his other wrist. Moving
with the lightning-fast speed that was one of her strongest wrestling
traits, she swung her legs up and under his arms and crossed her ankles
behind his head in a deadly leg-nelson. I watched her lock in the hold
as I descended the stairs.

"Nice hold sweetie," I complimented her, "looks like you've got him."

Julie looked over at me and grinned but upon hearing my voice, Andy
began struggling mightily. He managed to suceed in raising his head
slightly but that was all. I watched the muscles in Julie's thighs flex
as she forced his head back down to the floor. All Andy could do in his
own defence was to turn his head sideways to keep his nose from being
squashed into the rug. With her prey once again secure, my daughter
turned her attention back to me.

"Watch, Mom. I made up a new variation on this hold. It's called
"rock-a-bye baby". He'll submit for sure."

Fascinated, I watched as she let go of his wrists, lay all the way back
so her head was resting on the back of his legs, just below his butt,
reached behind her and took hold of his ankles from underneath. Slowly,
using the strength of her abdominal muscles, Julie curled herself
forward until Andy's legs were bent backward, his feet beside her ears.
Displaying spectacular abdominal power, she held him in that position
for a few seconds. I was duly impressed and thought that was it, but she

upped the ante by lowering herself back a few inches then curling up
again, creating a rocking motion. Looking at Andy helplessly bent
backwards into a crescent, I could almost feel his stomach muscles
burning and the up and down motion only made it worse I'm sure,
particularly since his head would come up off the carpet on the
backwards part of the swing and be driven back down as she rocked
forward again. Playful as always when she was in control of her
opponents, Julie began to sing "Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top. When
the bough breaks the crad..." That was as far as she got before Andy
yelled out his submission. Julie stopped rocking but continued to keep
him helpless in her winning hold.

"Say mercy again."

"Mercy, mercy. Please, stop."

"Beg me for it," she prodded.

"Alright honey," I interjected, "that's enough. You got the submission,
now let him go."

"Okay Mom," Julie said, letting Andy's legs flop to the floor as she
unlaced her own from around his neck. "Sorry," she said to Andy. "Are
you alright?"

"I think so," he replied, rubbing his stomach, "but that hurt like
hell."

"Yeah, I thought it would. I showed it to one of my friends, but she
wasn't strong enough to get the rocking part of it going. You're the
first one I've used it on in a real match."

"I'm honoured." Andy said sarcstically, causing both Julie and I to
laugh out loud.

"You better watch out Mom, I'm going to use it on you in our next
match."

"Not if I use it on you first. You shouldn't have shown it to me."

Lifting her tee shirt to show off her chiseled abdomen and pounding it
with her fist, my daughter teased back, "You don't have the ab strength
for that hold."

"Oh you think not? Well we'll find out, won't we young lady?"

I grabbed her around the head and gave her a quick noogie, which was all

I could get in before she pulled free, giggling and squealing.

"Do you have homework to do?" I asked.

"Uh-huh.

"Alright, you better get to it then. There's dinner in the oven, it
should be ready in about half an hour. I'll see you when I get home."

Looking at Andy, she smiled, suddenly feeling a bit shy as she
remembered it was my date she'd just trounced.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, I'm fine. You're quite the wrestler."

"I've Mom to thank for that. She's the one who showed me how."

"Yes," I said ruefully, and now she beats me half the time."

"Well, not quite half, but I'm getting there."

She turned to me.

"Bye Mom. Have a good time."

Julie leaned over and gave me a kiss.

"Bye honey."

She turned and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. I looked at Andy. As I

expected, his face bore a puzzled expression. No way to hide anything
now, so I didn't wait for the inevitable question.

"The answer," I said candidly, "is yes, I taught my daughter to wrestle
and yes, we wrestle each other on a regular basis. Unfortunately, it's
also true that she is starting to win more and more of those matches."

Looking at me in a sleevless dress, Andy appraised my muscular legs and
arms and observed, "I can see where she gets her muscles from, but how
did this wrestling thing get started?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story. You see, I used to be a competitve
bodybuilder before I got in to real estate."

I watched Andy's eyes widen.

"Here, I said, handing him a photo album. "Take a look."

He flipped it open but never even got past the first page, a full size 8

x 10 shot of me on stage hitting a double bicep pose. His jaw agape, he
continued turning pages, seeing nothing but photos of me in either in
various poses on stage or training at the gym.

"But bodybuilding is expensive and sales clerks, which is what I was at
the time, don't make much money. I have another one with filled with
wrestling pictures, but maybe we'll save that for later. Come on," I
said, taking his arm, "I'll explain over dinner. I'm famished."