I Got Dad's Eyes
By Gerbil
Father and son are defeated by mother and daughter


Ten year old David Rogers is beaten up by Samantha Hawkins.  When the 
father goes to demand an apology, he is defeated by Samantha's mother. 


I tried to sneak quietly in the front door, but the minute I stepped 
inside I was greeted by my father's booming bass voice.  He called me 
over to where he was sitting on the couch to see if I wanted to go to a 
ball game.  I tried to explain that I had to get upstairs to my bedroom, 
but he insisted that I go to him first, and that's when he saw my 
swollen black and blue eye. 

He bellowed, "What in the hell happened to you?" 

I knew I was in for it.  Pop didn't mind me fighting.  He reasoned that 
all ten-year-old normal boys enjoyed a good scrape, and as long as my 
opponent came out looking worse than I did, he was glad to see I was not 
a "pansy" or what he referred to as "sissy boys".  I didn't want to tell 
him that Sam had beaten me up, and I really didn't want to tell him that 
Sam was short for Samantha.  Samantha Hawkins.  He hit the roof when he 
heard that. 

After he calmed down a bit, he explained to me...and to himself I think, 
that the reason a girl had beaten me is because at my young age, girls 
mature faster than boys and that it was natural that they win fights at 
my age.    I didn't want to burst his bubble by telling him that my ten 
year old classmate was the class champion of arm wrestling, or that she 
had previously pinned 16 year old Danny Watkins in a wrestling match.  I 
haven't taken a lot of health and science classes, but I'm pretty sure 
that Danny had reached  puberty, and he was 6 inches taller and 40 
pounds heavier than Sam.  

The worst part about my battle with Samantha, a part that I can't tell 
my father or anyone else for that matter, is that for some reason, after 
Sam knocked me flat with a series of punches, she ended up straddling 
me, and for some unexplainable reason, I got a boner, or I guess the 
proper term is an erexshion; or something like that.  I only felt it one 
other time, when I saw a Playboy owned by Billy Jenkins father.  I can't 
explain my reaction to Sam.  I was totally beaten and humiliated in 
front of my friends, but when she straddled me, and I saw her white 
panties peeking out of the opening of her shorts, my penis just started 
to grow.  The more I struggled uselessly against her muscular young 
thighs and powerful arms, the harder my penis grew.  I don't think 
anyone else noticed it, or I would have really taken some ribbing. 

I couldn't talk my Dad into just letting go of the matter.  We had to go 
to Sam's house and confront his parents and Sam, and demand an apology.  
I was quiet the whole way over in the car, and when we stopped in front 
of her house, I begged him one last time to turn around and go home, but 
he wouldn't hear of it.  We moved up the sidewalk, rang the bell, and 
after a minute or two, a beautiful brunette older lady...about 30, 
answered the door.  She had her jet-black hair pulled back in a 
ponytail, and she was about two inches shorter than my father's 5'11".    
She was barefoot, and her legs were muscular and golden brown.  

After introducing ourselves, we learned that this muscular woman wiping 
the sweat from her brown with a towel draped around her neck, was 
Samantha's mother.  We were invited in, and I heard a rhythmic pounding.  
We entered a room off the entryway, and there was Sam, steadily working 
out on a speed bag.  I watched her muscular young body, a smaller 
version of her perfectly developed mother, and was in awe of her skill 
and beauty.  I felt that same strange sense of excitement as I watched 
her developing ten year old body, arms whirring in a steady motion as 
her young biceps noticeably danced, and seemed to taunt me for my own 
weakness.   Her midriff was rippling with hard young muscle, and the 
only thing hiding her young developing breasts was a blue jogging which 
matched her silk clinging shorts.  I could see the muscles of her 
shoulders and back gyrate in a symphony of motion, and hated myself for 
feeling excited by her young pre-teen body, much less, by a woman old 
enough to be my mother.  I tried to disguise my thoughts by looking down 
at my feet, but steal glances by letting my eyes move up, first to view 
my sexy classmate, then to her mother as she proudly looked on. 

The rhythmic pounding suddenly stopped and Sam grabbed it with her taped 
hands to stop the motion. 

"That was great Sam.  That's enough for the day.  Come on over here for 
a second will ya Hon?" 

Sam jogged over to where the three of us were standing and I kept my 
eyes glued to my feet, and felt my heart racing 100 miles an hour. 

She gave my arm a shot and said, "Hey Dweeb, how's the eye?" 

I think my father saw red at that point, because he grabbed Sam by the 
shoulders and turned her to face him and in a furious threatening voice 
said, "You will apologize to my son for calling him names, and also for 
hitting him when we have instructed him over and over that he is to 
never hit a girl." 

I held my breath and wanted to just run and hide as I heard Ms. Hawkins 
in a steady threatening voice say "You have to the count of three to get 
your hands off my daughter, or I will have to remove them myself. 

I think my father was a little shocked by this, but he did slowly remove 
his hands by the count of two.  Then he slowly turned towards Ms. 
Hawkins and gave a smile.  "It's obvious Ms. Hawkins that my son was at 
a disadvantage in not being able to fight back when he was attacked by 
your young daughter.  Both of us have to realize that had Samantha been 
a boy, my son could have fought back, and the outcome would have been 
far different.  Therefore, I want an apology, and I'm not leaving until 
we get one." 

"The only thing obvious to me Mr. Rogers is that your son provoked my 
daughter, and she soundly and fairly defended herself.  Young girls and 
women are no longer living in the 19th Century Mr. Rogers.  We are not 
the frail damsels you seem to think we are.  I'm proud of my daughter's 
athletic skills and assertiveness.  I think your son may have learned a 
valuable lesson early; something obviously that you still haven't 
learned." 

My Dad gave a little laugh and said "Oh really Ms. Smartass?  What's 
that?" 

I cringed and a voice in my head screamed "Dad, what are you doing?!" 

"I've heard enough Mr. Rogers.  You'll find some of my ex-husband's 
shorts in that room.  Change, and I'll meet you here in ten minutes.  
You beat me in a fight, and you'll get an apology from both my daughter 
and from me. If I win... I don't want anything.  Just having your son 
witness his father being defeated by a woman will be reward enough for 
me." 

"Lady, I have never hit a woman in my life, but I am going to enjoy 
knocking you out.  I'll be right out." 

Ms. Hawkins went inside the ring to the side of the large room and began 
limbering up.  I watched as she bent over and felt my eyes grown wide.  
Her legs were spread wide and her calf muscles and hamstrings were 
clearly visible, along with half of the cheeks of her round chiseled 
buttocks. 

I was suddenly aware of Sam watching me, and when I turned to her, she 
had a knowing smile on my face, which caused me to turn five shades of 
red. 

"You like muscles on girls and women don't ya Dweeb?" 

Defensively I shot back, "Stop calling me Dweeb...and yes, I guess I do 
like muscles on girls.  Maybe I am just a Dweeb." 

"Maybe I was wrong about you Dweeb....I mean David.  You are kind of 
cute...for a boy, and any boy who realizes that a girl can be stronger 
than him and can accept it can't be all bad." 

I gave a shy smile and tentatively asked, "So maybe we could be friends, 
and maybe you could teach me how to wrestle and box better?" 

Sam held out her hand with a smile and I could have flown as I felt her 
strong grip, and knew that we would be great friends for years to come.  
So what if I might never match her physically or even mentally.  I could 
be eternally happy following her lead, wherever it would take the two of 
us. 

Dad interrupted my happy thoughts as he returned, bare chested, in the 
borrowed shorts.  Sam leaned over to me looking at the slight paunch on 
his stomach, and whispered, "Think he stands a chance?" 

I smiled and felt a little guilt going against my Pop, but said, "What's 
the grownup saying?... a snowball's chance in hell?" 

I liked when Sam laughed at that, and even when she punched my arm again 
as we shared my "joke." 

Sam and I took a seat on a nearby couch and watched as my Dad entered 
and started limbering up.  Both parents put on boxing gloves, then met 
at the center of the ring and stared each other in the eyes as they 
talked to each other.  Sam and I couldn't hear what was said, but the 
looks on both of their faces said they were both dead serious. 

"You ever kissed a girl?" 

I couldn't believe what I thought I had just heard from Sam.  "What?" 

"I said...Digleweed.....sorry...David, have you ever kissed a girl?" 

I looked back at my fidgeting thumbs and tried to make light of it... 
"Lots of girls...my mom, my aunt Mildred, Grandma Rogers..."   another 
punch, but I was getting used to them, because it meant she sort of 
liked me.  

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then I could feel Sam's head 
moving closer and closer to mine.  Suddenly our lips were touching and 
although it only lasted a second or two, that first real kiss was 
incredible." 

All I could do was smile and say, "Wow, that was nice." 

I couldn't believe I said that...."Wow that was nice?...I am a Dweeb. 

Our attention was brought back to movement in the ring and we could see 
that our parents had started their fight.  I thought to myself, "Maybe 
this is how divorced people meet these days.  A love connection?  
Stranger things have happened I guessed." 

As I watched the punches start to fly, I hardly saw it as a love 
connection.  I had never seen my Pop fight...or exercise for that 
matter, so I was kind of proud of him when a right and left landed.  
Unfortunately for my Dad, for every two of his that landed, five of 
Sam's mother's would land, and from my father's pained expression, they 
packed a lot of power. 

I know I shouldn't have been watching Ms. Hawkins and thinking such 
thoughts, but she was an incredible woman.  She moved about the ring in 
an almost liquid graceful motion, and her thighs and calves bunched 
provocatively as she danced in and out of my father's range.  I could 
see the strong arms flexed, guarding her face, and the elbows standing 
guard over her taught hard stomach.  If any punches did land, they were 
doing little harm, and as the match wore on, I could see my father 
slowing, and dropping his own guard lower.  He was also back-pedaling 
and Ms. Hawkins was beginning to connect at will.  Suddenly she 
unleashed a hard uppercut that jerked my father's head way back, and 
sent sweat flying.  My father's body looked like it was in slow motion, 
as he fell over backward hitting the canvas.  He slowly rolled to his 
side and shook his head, then got to his knees, then was able to 
stand...though a bit wobbly.  I stared in wide-eyed amazement at the 
muscular Ms. Hawkins as she calmly returned to her corner to wait until 
my father was ready to continue.  I had never seen a grown woman knock 
down a grown man before and I was mesmerized. 

Sam said, "Mom's not bad is she?" 

I watched the woman who stood before me and said the first thing that 
came to my head.  "She's incredible." 

My Dad brushed off his gloves and signaled that he was ready to 
continue.  They moved toward each other, but my Dad was more tentative 
now, and was mainly on the defensive, only occasionally throwing an 
ineffective punch.  Sam's mother continued to advance, and it was 
apparent to all four of us what the outcome would be at that point.  She 
sent rights and lefts to his stomach once again causing him to drop his 
guard.  Then she peppered his face with punches cutting his lip and 
sending a small stream of blood down the side of his mouth.  I could see 
my Dad's eyes glass over as his guard was completely gone, and he barely 
stood on rubbery legs.  Ms. Hawkins was now measuring her punches, each 
one landing with power and crispness.  My Dad was weaving, out on his 
feet when Ms. Hawkins really wound up and let a left right combination 
fly, sending my Dad to the canvas out cold. 

Sam and I went out back and just hung out and talked while Ms. Hawkins 
revived my Dad.  After about 20 minutes he came and got me and we headed 
out through the house.  I was really glad to see my Dad and Sam's mom 
shake hands before we headed toward our car.  Silently we pulled out of 
their drive and headed home. 

Dad was the first to speak, saying,  "Son, would it bother or embarrass 
you if I dated a woman who could beat me up?" 

I just put my hand on my Pop's shoulder and smiled,  "Not if you didn't 
mind me having a soda or just hanging out with her daughter who can do 
likewise to me." 

Both of us just smiled and sat back as we continued our drive home with 
matching shiners.