Two short stories




Two more short rough drafts - The first is a story of mother/daughter, and
their unique way of settling differences. The second is an early draft of
"Short People," included here just to add some pages to this file.

Comments welcome to Karma_aw@yahoo.com

It was really a bitch and a half, trying to raise a daughter on your own.
Cheri was now 17, and starting to come into her own. The two of us had really
grown up together. I had married her father when I was only 17 myself, and had
left him two years later, and moved with Cheri to another state, where we
started all over.

I had finally found a good job at the local gym, where I ran the office, and
scheduled all of the appointments, which still left me with a lot of spare
time. I put that time to good use, hitting the machines every chance I had.
That working out had left me with a dynamite body at age 34, with muscles on
my muscles. A co-worker exclaimed once that even my tits were muscular.

Cheri had been with me every step of the way. Ever since she was 3 years old,
she had accompanied me to the gym, and naturally took to it like a duck to
water. She grew up lifting weights, and the two of us pushed each other every
day to ever higher levels of performance. We had quite a reputation in town,
but no one ever gave us any shit.

I came home from work at the usual time, just after 5. Cheri's routine was to
come home, start supper - if she felt like it - and then do whatever homework
she had to do. We'd stay at home until 7 or so, and then head back into the
gym, where we worked the night shift until we closed at 11:00.

I walked in the door, dropping my bag next to Cheri's and kicking off my
shoes. Barefoot, I walked into the little kitchen and grabbed a beer out of
the fridge.

Taking a deep swallow, I glanced around the room. No activity at all, so Cheri
hadn't started anything. Well, I sure didn't feel like it myself.

"Cheri!" I yelled. "Anything in mind for supper?"

A voice came from the living room, and I grinned. "No, I felt lazy! How about
Chinese?" "Can you afford it?" I called, starting for the living room. I
walked in and looked down at her as she lay on her stomach on the carpeted
floor, her long body stretched out.

She grinned up at me. "Who says I'm paying for it?"

"I do," I replied, taking another long swallow. "I'm feeling pretty feisty
today. You don't stand a chance."

"Well, get down here and put your money where your mouth is!"

Without saying anything more, I put my beer down on the coffee table, and lay
down on the floor facing Cheri. She wriggled a little bit, then planted her
elbow down on the floor, arm up and ready. I settled in, and matched Cheri's
position. I gripped her hand, and without further ado, we began the latest in
our series of innumerable arm-wrestling matches.

It had all started years before, when Cheri was about 10 years old. She told
me that her gym teacher had taught them how to arm-wrestle in class, and that
she had won all her matches, even those against the boys.

As the years went by, the scenario repeated itself several times, as she would
tell me how she had emerged victorious against various opponents. One day,
when she was about 13 years old, she came into the kitchen where I was
working. She wanted to see if her old Mom was as tough as she thought she was.
We arm- wrestled, with me winning easily. She looked at me thoughtfully, and
went on about her business.

A year later, on her 14th birthday, she came in again. Again, we did battle. I
won again, but it was more of a struggle than the year before.

Finally, shortly before her 15th birthday, the two of us had a little tiff.
She wanted to stay out later, and I wanted her to be back in by 11:00. She
looked at me, and challenged me to arm-wrestle, with the winner having her
way.

This time it was a battle. I finally prevailed, but I knew it was a sign of
things to come. Sure enough, a month later she beat me for the first time. Now
it was a matter of pride, and I began working out even harder to match Cheri.
She in turn worked out more, and the cycle began, and we pushed each other to
higher and higher limits.

Soon, it was almost a daily event for us. I looked forward to it, and I knew
Cheri did, too. By the time of her sixteenth birthday, we were evenly matched,
in both size and strength (and stamina, as well).

We had some absolutely epic battles. Early on, we decided that there would
never be a draw, no matter how tired we got, or however long we battled. Most
of our matches lasted at least 30 seconds, and many went over a minute.

This match was no exception, as we fought pretty evenly for some time, but
eventually it was Cheri's turn to emerge victorious.

She was just as damn short as I was, and we grinned at each other. I was only
4' 11", and though Donna swore she was 5', I didn't believe her, and teased
her about it. As time went on, we became pretty good friends at work, often
spending breaks and lunch together.

Co-workers would laugh as they saw us walking down the hall, short legs
churning away. We giggled and laughed at each other's size. One day at lunch,
Donna said something derogatory about my small hands, and I held one hand up
towards her. She placed her palm against mine, and we finally decided that her
hand was very slightly bigger. That same day, we compared shoe size, and found
that we wore the same size.

Donna shrugged, and leaned back in her chair. She looked at me somewhat
speculatively, then leaned forward again.

"Trish, can you keep a secret?"

I leaned forward as well. "Of course. What, are you going to admit you wear
lifts?"

She grinned. "No, but almost as amazing. Have you ever noticed that I never
wear a shortsleeved shirt to work?"

I had noticed, and wondered why. I just shrugged my shoulders and replied,
"Yeah, but no big deal. I don't either."

At this she was a little taken aback, and had to stop to think for a second.

"Why don't you?" I asked. "I suppose you're going to tell me that you have
big, muscular arms that you don't want..."

I stopped at the expression on her face. She was looking at me with a look of
stunned surprise.

"What?" I asked, "Don't tell me I'm right?" I paused for a second. "Show me!"

She looked around furtively, then quickly gathered up her purse and headed
towards the storage room. I watched her for a second, then finally got the
message and followed her.

Giggling like kids, we locked the door behind us. Donna suddenly looked a
little nervous, but as I encouraged her she slipped off her jacket, rolled up
the sleeve of her blouse, and FLEXED!

Her arms were huge, big and solid, and completely out of synch with the rest
of her body. I reached out and gently touched her bulging bicep.

"Go ahead," she grinned at me. "It won't break."

"Wow," I finally managed. "You are big! Are you as strong as you look?"

"Wanna arm-wrestle?" she asked playfully. "Then you'll find out."

It was time to let my secret out as well. I grinned back at her, then said,
"Sure!"

She looked at me with her mouth open, then began to smile.

"I've got a secret to share with you as well. Wanna see?"

She just nodded, a gleam in her eye. It was my turn to strip off my jacket,
exposing my own awesome upper body in a sleeveless blouse. I flexed my arm
almost under her gaping jaw.

I glanced around to see a waist high file cabinet. I swept a few papers off.

"Ready?" I challenged.

She locked her eyes on mine and matched my position. She stretched around a
little, then pulled her arm back.

"Chickening out?" I leered.

She shook her head, eyes still on mine, and began to unbutton her blouse.

"I can't get comfortable with this blouse on. Mind if I strip down a little,
if that won't distract you? In fact, why don't you do the same so you won't
have any excuses after I whip your ass!"

I stuck my tongue out at her, and unbuttoned my own blouse. As if on a signal,
we both removed our shirts. Her chest was surprisingly big, with firm tits
almost spilling out of her bra. I had to work hard to maintain eye contact and
not stare at her chest.

Finally freed of their confinement, Donna's arms looked huge and hard. She
flexed a little, then planted her elbow down. Not wasting any time, I matched
her and our hands gripped hard.

Our arms suddenly burst into action, muscles bulging and rippling as we
strained to overcome the other. For many long seconds, we remained licked in
place, neither able to outmuscle the other.

Donna grunted. "You are awfully damn strong! Not very many women can hold me
off this long."

"Hold you off, Hell!" I gasped in return. "I'm going to whip your ass!"

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, and as she said this, she poured even more power into
her arm. I glared at her as I matched her surge, holding her off.

"Fuck!" she grunted. It was my turn, and I really jacked it up until I was
putting almost all of my considerable strength into my effort. Donna's arm
quivered, and I gained a little, slowly forcing her arm down.

Donna stared straight down at the table, her enormous arms bulging with
muscle. To my absolute amazement, she not only held off my effort, but began
to force my arm down. I held on desperately.

I looked up to see Donna glaring at me, her teeth clenched.

"Give, goddammit!" she gasped.

"No fucking way!" I gasped back.

I glared right back at her, and our eyes locked over our straining, bulging
arms. It was a battle of wills as well as a battle of strength.

Our struggle seemed to have lasted for an hour, although it was only a few
minutes. My arm was drained, only will power was keeping it from being pinned.

Finally, when I thought I couldn't take any more, Donna wilted. Slowly, slowly
I forced her arm back and finally, pinned her down to the table. We just
looked at each other for several seconds, then tried to unclasp our numb
hands.

I reached over and touched Donna's bicep, then began to massage it. Our eyes
remained locked as she did the same for me. For several seconds, we were
practically motionless, except for our gently rubbing hands on each other's
arm.

I was mesmerized by her gaze, and barely registered that she was leaning
closer to me. Our lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, then more eagerly as
we realized that the other was making no move to break away.