Sarah – Part 1 By The Collector Strong girl Sarah or “Now do you believe I’m strong?” Copyright 1998 The Collector This story is adult in nature and should not be read by anyone under 21. Send comments to ChuckSt35@aol.com Note: Dear reader. This is the first part of a trilogy about Sarah. Parts 1 and 2 are the setting for part 3. Sarah’s ages are 13, 16 and 19 in the stories and are written accordingly. Part 1 - Strong girl Sarah Part 2 - Sarah tests her muscles Part 3 - Sarah grows up Part 1 – Strong girl Sarah Sarah walked up to my front porch I was waiting for a ride to play softball with my college IM team. It was nearly a daily ritual with her. Apparently, thing were not going too well at home for her that she needed me to talk to each day. I had known her all her and her family as far back as I can remember, and Sarah had always had a crush on me, for whatever reason. She was pretty beyond her 13 years and had already beginning to look like a young woman. I looked at her on her bike and couldn’t help but think of the trail of broken hearts that she would leave. At only 5”0”, she wore the summer dress for most kids, cutoffs, a blouse and sandals. Her dark hair hung just off her shoulders revealing a face that was pretty by any standard. . She got off her bike and sat down beside me, a depressed look on her face. “So what’s new today, Sarah?” “Mom told me to leave the house. I know what that means even though she thinks I don’t.” “What do you mean?” “It means my dad’s in trouble, and they’re gonna have a fight. I think it’s gonna be a bad one this time.” “I’m sorry to hear that. Do they fight a lot?” “Yes, but mom makes sure I’m not around.” “Well, it wouldn’t be good for you to hear them arguing.” “I hear them arguing all the time, but when they really start fighting, I have to leave. They don’t want me to see anyone get hurt.” “You mean they hurt each other? Does that happen a lot?” “It happens all the time. But mom never gets hurt, only my dad.” I had seen her parents on a number of occasions. They appeared to be a normal couple, with her father Jim at about 6’0, 180 and her mother Carole at 5’6”, 125. “What do you mean, your dad gets hurt?” “Well, I probably shouldn’t say, but she beats him up sometimes.” “Now wait a minute Sarah. I’ve seen your parents and your dad is much bigger than your mother.” “I know, but she’s a lot stronger than he is.” “Not likely she’s stronger. After all, she is a woman, and she’s much smaller.” “But mom tells me that all women are stronger than men. And the same for boys and girls.” “I don’t think that’s necessarily true, do you?” “I think it is. I know mom’s stronger, and I’m stronger than anyone else at school.” “Well, how do you know you’re stronger?” “Well, I beat up Eddie, you know, that bully that’s always trying to push everyone around. He was bothering one of my friends the other day. He hit him, and he was so much bigger it wasn’t fair.” I had seen Eddie a number of times. He was the neighborhood bully, 14, about 5’6” tall and over 150 pounds, and was always looking for fights. “What did you do?” I asked humoring her. “I just told him to stop or I’d hurt him. He just laughed at me, and called me a pip-squeak, so I beat him up. It wasn’t that hard really.” “But, Sarah, he’s so much bigger than you. And I know he gets into a lot of fights, every other boy around here is afraid of him.” “I know he’s bigger, but I didn’t think he was that strong at all. I actually thought he was kind of weak. Boys aren’t very strong are they?” “Well, of course they are. Most boys are stronger than girls.” “Not at my school. The girls are all really strong, and most of the boys are afraid of us.” “Well, how’d that happen?” “We just lift weights, that’s all. Mommy always said girls should be stronger than boys, so me and my friends have been lifting weights for a long time, since we were little.” “You mean all the girls lift weights? You never told me that before.” “Sure, I think it’s fun to see how strong I can get. But some of the girls don’t like the big muscles they’re getting. I think it’s cool though. And mom doesn’t really like me to tell anyone. She thinks it’s bragging and doesn’t like me to say anything. She doesn’t even like me to show off my muscles either.” Her mood had changed. Clearly she was enjoying talking about herself. “Just how strong are you Sarah?” “Well, I’m stronger than my brother Jimmy”. “Jimmy’s what, 18 now?” I had known Jimmy, but we traveled in different circles, rarely seeing each other. “He’s 19, but he’s really weak. I think most boys are weak anyways.” “And you’re stronger than him too?” “Uh huh. He used to bother me when we were smaller, but I just kept getting stronger. One time he kept coming in my room when I told him to stop, and he wouldn’t. I didn’t even have to do anything except show him my muscles, and he doesn’t bother me. I know he’s scared of me, cause I’m so strong.” “And when did that happen?" “That was a long time ago. I think I was 7 or 8 then.” “Let’s see, he would’ve been…13 or 14?” “Yea, I think so. Now when I get mad at him, I just walk over to him and make a muscle and he straightens up.” “Sarah, that’s the second time you’ve said you had muscles. You’re only…13...and you have muscles already?” “Yes! They’re just a lot bigger now. Would you like to see? I love to show them off. You’re going to be really surprised.” While I didn’t believe her, I didn’t want to spoil her fun. “Well, OK let’s see.” Sarah then made a little fist with her hand, her own eyes fixed on her arm. Immediately her small forearm tensed. She started to curl as I was seeing something very few people would ever see. Her bicep quickly jumped from her arm…with each slight movement, her bicep grew full and round, a peak beginning to develop even before she was halfway through her flex. She smiled as it rose, proud of the little ball of strength on her arm. I looked at her in disbelief. “Sarah, how’d you do that?” “You can touch it if you want.” I placed my hand on her arm. She kept curling…I felt the strength of this young girl beneath my hand as it grew yet bigger, my entire hand trying to wrap around it. She kept flexing, and I found my hand resting on it, not around it, wondering how any girl of 13 could look so strong. “Go ahead, see if you can squeeze it.” She was clearly having fun, enjoying herself. It had grown to the size of something smaller than a tennis ball, but I was amazed at how hard it was. I could feel it solid in my hand, harder than anything I’d ever touched. “See if you can squeeze it.” She was smiling at me now, proud of herself. I exerted all my strength around it…it was like trying to squeeze a steel ball. “Wow, Sarah, I’ve never seen a girl with muscles like you. You’re really amazing!” “They’re really strong too. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I could show you. I’m a really good arm wrestler…would you like to try and beat me?” she asked. “I don’t think that’s be a good idea Sarah.” I said. I thought it was fine to humor her claims to being strong but, even though her arms were impressive, I knew there was no way she was going to beat me. She looked up at me and said, “Oh, you’re not chicken are you?” “It’s not that Sarah, but you’re a girl, and a lot younger than me. I think it’s nice that you can beat your school friends and all, but you can’t possibly be as strong as you say you are.” I was trying to let her down easy. The look on her face told me I had burst her bubble. She stood up, placed her hands on her hips and looked at me. “I am too strong. I think you’re just afraid of losing to a girl!” She started to walk away, her face nearly in tears. I think she was both hurt and angry at my not having confidence in her. “Wait Sarah…I’m sorry…of course, I’ll arm wrestle you, but don’t beat me too bad. We can go to the picnic table out back.” Trying to humor her, her face lit up in a big smile as she grabbed my hand to drag me out back. In the back yard, Sarah let my hand go as soon as she saw the picnic table. She quickly took a seat, rolled her sleeve up and placed her right arm on the table. I sat down across from her, hoping when it was over she wouldn’t suspect I’d let her win, and letting her think I gave her a good battle. I grabbed her hand, which seemed half the size of mine. As she grabbed back, she was stronger than I’d expected, much stronger. “You’ll take it easy on me won’t you?” I asked. “I promise, I won’t hurt you,” she said. “OK…on the count of three.” I said. “One…two…three!” I didn’t use all my strength, hoping she would immediately attack, and I would let her win. But I found myself pushing her arm as she looked at me and smiled. Nearly half way down, my arm stopped, even though I began exerting more strength. I pushed harder and harder, but her arm wouldn’t move. She just looked at me, bit her lower lip, and began pushing. I felt an immediate irresistible force from her little hand as she pushed me slowly upright, though I still wasn’t using all my strength. She was watching me, seeing if I was straining, trying to hold her at bay. “Dum de dum dum, still think I’m not very strong?” she asked. “Wow, Sarah, I’m surprised…you’re giving me a good fight.” “Now see if you can push my arm down all the way.” She said. “OK, but I warn you…I’m going to win.” I said. Humoring her, I pushed her arm easily, then it stopped just before pinning her. She looked at me and giggled. “Now I’m going to win! I just wanted to see how strong you were.” She said. She started pushing my arm up. I tried to resist, pouring on even more strength, but I couldn’t stop her. And she was making it look easy! We got to midpoint and I pushed yet harder, leaning into her, using everything I had, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her little stayed firm, unwavering. The harder I tried, the harder she’d push back. I couldn’t believe what was happening to me, couldn’t believe she was this strong. I looked at her little bicep… which wasn’t as little anymore. It had begun to sprout as I pushed harder. She saw me looking. “The harder I try, the bigger my muscle gets…and it’s not very big yet. You can use both hands if you want. I can still win.” She was still smiling, as though not exerting any effort at all. Frustrated, I placed my other hand up, both hands now against hers, pushing her down, nearly pinning her. Then it happened. I felt her getting stronger and looked at her arm. Her bicep was growing, that little ball of steel developing as she moved my arm. She looked at it as she pushed me with ease, her arm getting bigger, and her incredible strength overpowering both my arms. Caught up in her own strength, she watched her arm grow, then with a sudden burst of strength, she pushed her little arm against me. She looked up at me with an unexpectedly vicious, smile. I was helpless to stop her, as she easily moved my arms to the table, pinning me. “Now do you believe I’m strong?” she asked innocently. “I didn’t think you meant…Sarah, that was something…I didn’t mean to doubt you. I should have known when I saw those muscles.” “That’s OK, you didn’t really know. You won’t say anything to anyone will you?” “No, I promise.” No one would believe me anyway. “I’m not supposed to show off, but I think it’s fun. Do you think muscles are pretty on a girl?” Before I could answer, she was across the table siting on it next to me. She placed her arm in front of me, curled it, and it appeared again, as round and hard and strong as before, only slightly bigger. “Sarah, I think they look very pretty…especially on you.” A proud smile came to her face, full of warmth. She lowered her arm and jumped off the table. “It’s probably dinner time, I’d better go.” As she reached the side, she turned around, waved to me and was off.