Mom and Tonya - Part III By Karma Mom runs into Tonya’s gym teacher - with predictable results I lay flat on my stomach, basking in the warmth of the sun. I felt behind me with one arm and unhooked my bikini top, moving the fabric off to one side. My eyes closed as I enjoyed the heat of the sun’s rays on my back. Languidly I reached over and turned on the CD player and relaxed as the sound of Queen and "Bohemian Rhapsody" wafted out over our backyard. I almost drifted off to sleep as my mind turned, as it often did these days, to Tonya. It had been several months since our little test of strength had ended with Tonya and me kneeling mouth-to- mouth on our kitchen floor. It had taken every ounce of my will power to tear my mouth away from her sweet kiss and to rise to my feet. The look of hurt, disappointment, frustration and incipient anger she had given me lingers on in my mind. I had gently tried to explain my reservations about our relationship, but she had refused to listen and eventually ran from the house, but not before the sight of tears in her eyes almost broke my heart. Since then my thoughts often returned to her, to the sight of her strong, young body struggling to overcome mine, to the feel of her nipples against mine, to the memory of our arms locked in quivering combat, to the feel of her lips... "Shit!" I rose up on my elbows, forgetting for a moment that my top was loose. "Watch it, Mom," a voice drawled from nearby. "One of our friendly local school board members might see you cavorting topless and decide that you’re an unfit mother." I rolled over and glanced at Denise, lounging nearby (also topless, I might add). "We don’t live in Harper Valley, dear," I observed dryly. "Besides, with you looking like that they’d never even notice me if I was dancing naked through the tulips." She grinned and sat up. We slipped back into our respective tops and went inside for dinner. I asked her a little later about her plans for the evening. She gave me a look that had a bit too much guilt in it, then looked away. "Denise," I said warningly. "Spill it!" She sighed. "Okay. I’m going to a birthday party for someone I know." She stopped, then, still not meeting my eyes, continued. "It’s down at Dino’s Pizza, and it’s for Tonya." She stopped again, and this time it was my gaze that wandered away. "Look, Mom," she said, her tone telling me that she either knew or suspected my feelings for Tonya. "I know that you and Tonya had a falling out, and that the two of you never talk anymore. She never asks about you like she used to - well, hardly ever - and she never comes over. I wish you two would... Well, that you’d..." "Kiss and make up?" I asked wryly. "So to speak?" "Yeah, so to speak," She gave me a twisted grin. "I gotta go, okay? See you later." "Say ‘Hello’ from me," I said as she was leaving. "Which birthday is it for her, by the way?" Denise stopped in the doorway and looked at me. Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and pity. "She’s 18," she said, and was gone. Suddenly my world was turned upside down (or rightside up) and the sun was shining brighter. That which was lost had been found. "She’s legal," I whispered to myself in that empty house. "She’s legal!" I said again more loudly, not able or willing to stop the smile that spread across my face. I had thought that Tonya was 16, Denise’s age, and therefore off-limits. Now, everything had changed and anything was possible. I resolved to call Tonya first thing in the morning. The next morning I was up early. Denise dragged downstairs later and we sat at the kitchen table while Denise had her Wheaties. My normally ebullient daughter was unusually subdued. "So, how was the party?" I finally asked, since Denise wasn’t being very forthcoming. She glanced at me without answering, then drank the remaining milk straight from the bowl. She looked at me again and sighed. "Well, I suppose I may as well tell you. You’ll eventually find out sometime, I guess." I was both intrigued and apprehensive to hear more, but nodded for Denise to continue. "I don’t know if I ever told you about Miss Torelli, the new physical education teacher and gym coach. Did I?" I was taken aback by this seeming non-sequitor and shook my head. "Ms T, as she likes to be called, started at school last winter. At first she was pretty cool. She had a bunch of new ideas for phy-ed, and really worked with us in gymnastics. She worked our asses off, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. But then we started noticing things..." "What kind of things?" I asked a little sharply. "Well, first I should tell you a little about Torelli. She’s big - not fat, mind you - just big. She’s really muscular and proud of her body. We’ve also found out that she’s incredibly strong, stronger than any of us girls, by a long way. She also has a bit of a mean streak and holds grudges, and can kind of abuse girls who aren’t fit." Denise frowned. "But then the other things started happening. She’d rub our shoulder - she called it a massage. She liked to feel our muscles, then would laugh and tell us to touch her arms. She’d flex for us and have us try to squeeze her biceps. She’d put her hand on our knee, then ‘accidentally’ move it up to our thigh. It didn’t take us long to realize that she was putting the moves on us. Anyone who resisted too much would suddenly be in her doghouse, doing more sit-ups or running more laps. Pretty soon the joke started making its rounds." "The joke?" I asked. "Yeah. Which one of us would have to be the little Dutch girl? Y’know, which of us would put our finger in the dyke so the others could escape." "And it was Tonya?" I asked, already knowing the answer. "Yeah. Tonya was pretty depressed. Ms T realized that and gave her some extra special ‘attention.’ Pretty soon they were the worst-kept secret in school. Ms T intimidates all the other teachers and staff, so no one dared say anything. But last night was the worst. Ms T was there with Tonya, and Tonya was like a zombie. She didn’t do or say anything without looking at Ms T to see if it was okay. It’s really weird, Mom, and I’m worried about her." I got up from my chair. I was upset, guilt-ridden and more than a little worried about Tonya. Mostly, I was pissed. Several hours and many phone calls later I parked my car at the old high school gymnasium. Sure enough, there was Ms T’s Volvo, parked in back with her vanity plates - STRNGGRL. I snorted. Strong girl, indeed! Inside the sound of voices guided me down a flight of stairs and through a short hallway to a half-open office door. Without hesitation, I stepped through the entrance. The first person I saw was Tonya, seated in a chair near the desk, her shoulders slumped. Seated behind the desk, looking at me with angry eyes, was Ms T. She was, as Denise had said, a big woman. Even relaxed as she was, her musculature was evident, solid biceps unhidden behind a sleeveless T-shirt. Her healthy chest - bra-less, of course - stretched the fabric of the tight shirt. She certainly wasn’t unattractive, with short-cut dark hair framing a sharp-featured face. Her eyes, now staring at me with evident disfavor, were dark brown. "What do you want?" she barked. I ignored her for a moment and studied Tonya. Her normally lustrous hair was stringy and oily. Her usually vivacious expression was lax and disinterested. Her previously gleaming eyes were dull, but when she looked at me, I saw a spark of something there. Relief? Fear? Pleasure? "Hello, Tonya," I said quietly. "I’ve been looking for you. Happy Birthday. We should talk." Ms T interrupted. "She has nothing to talk to you about! This is private! Get the hell out of here!" I looked at Tonya for a moment longer, heart breaking, then with dark feelings of anger and disgust building inside me, I walked over to the desk and looked down at Ms T. "I’m not going anywhere without Tonya and I’m not leaving until we get a few things straight." She sneered and leaned back in her chair, putting her hands behind her head. Her muscles swelled and jumped into full relief. She noticed me noticing her and her malicious grin grew even wider. She flexed even more, and her biceps turned into balls of solid muscle. I locked my eyes on hers. "Your days of taking advantage of teen-age girls are over," I told her coldly. "Using your position to intimidate them into doing your wishes is despicable. Tonya and I are leaving, with or without your permission." Her grin faded and she flushed. She rose to her feet and leaned forward, bracing her arms on the desk. Her eyes never left mine. "Fuck you!" she spat. "Look who’s talking! I know all about you! I know you’re just another old washed-up dyke who likes to hang around with young girls. You’ve got nothing to say to me or Tonya, and you will be leaving now!" I leaned forward on the desk as well until our noses were only a few inches apart. "The fuck I will!" We continued glaring angrily at each other. Her gaze never wavered and we were suddenly locked into a battle of wills. For a long minute we stared unblinkingly into each other’s eyes. Eventually a tight grin came to her lips. "Like I said," she finally continued, "I know you. I’ve heard about how tough you think you are. Denise loves to talk about how strong her Mom is. You think that because you’re a little stronger than a few young girls, you’re hot shit! Well, back off, lady, ‘cause you’ve just met more than your match!" I stared deeply at her. "Shall we see?" I asked softly. She laughed, but I saw a flicker of something - Fear? Doubt? - in her eyes. It was gone, then, and she leaned even closer. "Is that a challenge, old lady? Because if it is, I’m going to kick your ass!" "Then put your money where your big mouth is. Pick three contests. If you can win two of the three, I walk out of here and won’t say another word. If I win, you apologize to all the girls, let Tonya go and never bother anyone again." "Deal!" she snapped. "In the words of the late, great Marvin Gaye, ‘Let’s Get It On!’" I stepped back and stripped off my sweatshirt. The halter I was wearing showed my body to its fullest advantage, and Ms T’s eyes widened at the sight of my sculpted physique. They then narrowed again, and she moved from behind the desk. "Legs first!" she snapped at me. "Let’s see if that’s fat or muscle in those thighs." "Leg wrestling?" I asked. "No. Something even more intense that can last longer. Something I saw on a Danube Women’s Wrestling Tape." She pulled over two chairs, evicting a fascinated and curious Tonya. I smiled at Tonya and received a tentative, trembling smile back that made my heart sing. Ms T sat in one chair and motioned me into the other. We sat so close together that my knees were inside hers. She placed her feet outside of mine so our entire legs, ankle to knee, pressed together. My knees, inside hers, were about six inches apart. "It’s simple, really," she explained curtly. "I try to force your legs together until your knees touch. If I can make them touch within a minute, I win. If you can keep them apart, you win. Whoever wins two in a row wins the contest. Understand?" I nodded. Ms T told Tonya to get a timer out of a desk drawer and set in to one minute. At Tonya’s signal, we began. I underestimated her, and cursed as she suddenly flexed her legs and forced my knees to within a few inches of each other. Gritting my teeth and grabbing the seat of my chair for leverage (as Ms T was doing as well) I strained to resist. The seconds ticked away slowly as we fought, leg against leg. Finally the timer sounded. Relieved, I relaxed. Ms T scowled in frustration. Now it was my turn, and we exchanged positions, my legs now on the outside of hers. Tonya reset the timer, and we were off again. I pushed as hard as I could, but could not move her surprisingly strong legs one iota. Both of us were soon bathed in sweat, Ms T’s T-shirt darkening, and our legs were becoming slippery. The feel of our flexed legs rubbing together was intensely erotic, and if I had not disliked (or hated) Ms T so deeply, I may have become even more aroused. I watched her legs swell with muscle as she strained against mine. I could feel her flexed calf rubbing and twitching by mine. Cords of muscles stood out in her big thighs, and I began to wonder if I could long resist her strength. Back and forth we fought, alternating attempts. Neither of us was able to force the other’s knees to touch. My legs were achingly sore from the repeated battles. Ms T’s cocky attitude had disappeared as she found herself locked in a struggle that was both harder and more long lasting than she had obviously anticipated. Finally, at our fourteenth try, Ms T began forcing my knees closer together, inch by agonizing inch. My legs were crying for release. Her teeth were clenched, her malevolent gaze fixed on me as she sensed impending victory. I gasped, trying to stave her off, but finally, only a few seconds before the timer would have sounded, my knees touched. I slumped in the chair, knowing I had lost the first contest. Ms T pumped her fist and leaped to her feet, then almost collapsed as her benumbed legs refused to support her. I remained in my chair, trying to gather strength for the next contest and trying to ignore the disappointed look Tonya gave me. For several minutes we walked around, letting our minds and bodies recover. Eventually Ms T looked around. Spying an almost-chest-high counter across the room, she walked over to it. She planted one elbow down, arm upright, hand open in invitation. "C’mon over! Let’s hold hands for a while and get this over with. Tonya is making me lasagna for supper!" I matched her stance and our hands gripped. I was prepared this time, and when she exploded into action I was ready and absorbed her first surge. Our arms quivered in absolute deadlock. Ms T’s, biceps swelled and rippled with muscle, but I knew my own arm was just as big and hard. I felt confident in this battle. I very, very seldom lost at arm-wrestling. I knew I had incredible upper body strength as well as the stamina required to win a long match. Ms T was no slouch, however. For a long minute we battled to no avail. Neither of us was able to move the other the smallest bit off center. I watched her biceps swell to magnificent proportions and wondered whether I could actually overpower that arm. Her head went down as she stared at the table, concentrating mightily on our contest. My gaze went beyond her head and focused on Tonya. Her fists were clenched as she watched our battle. Her gaze met mine. Her eyes were clearer now and her look beseeched me to win. Her gaze changed, and she got the expression she had after our earlier "Mercy" test of strength, just before we kissed. Staring straight at me she brought her hands up and began pressing and fondling her own breasts. In her eyes I saw the beginning of a promise. Galvanized by the sight and determined not to let her down, I redoubled my efforts and poured all of my strength (and some of Tonya’s, vicariously) into my aching and quivering arm. Slowly and certainly I purely outmuscled Ms T, forcing her arm down closer and closer to the counter. With one final surge I slammed her hand down, then held it down for another second, staring into Ms T’s eyes. Hatred and humiliation stared back at me. We were even again. I pushed my advantage and walked right up to her. "What’s next?" I demanded. She tried to wave me away, but I got right in her face. "C’mon, tough girl! What’s wrong, is an old broad too much for you? What’s next?" She shot me a hate-filled look, then walked away from me through a short hall into the old gym. Tonya and I followed. Tonya touched me on the arm and gave me a tremulous smile. In the old gym, Ms T kicked off her shoes and socks. I followed suit. She led me to the middle of the gym and turned to face me. "Right here we’re equidistant from both walls. I push you. You push me. Whoever ends up with her back to the wall loses. Got it?" We came together in a rush. My hands grabbed her biceps and hers grabbed mine. We planted our strong legs and tried to push each other backwards. Her grip tightened painfully on my arms and I squeezed back, feeling her muscles flex under my fingers as mine flexed under hers. Our initial thrusts resulted in a standoff, both of us straining mightily. This was not a battle involving finesse, but one of pure brute strength and determination. Gradually we leaned into each other until our generous tits brushed, then pressed together. My chin was on her left shoulder, and her chin was on mine. Still we pushed, legs quivering and feet adjusting as irresistible force met immovable object. Minutes passed as our contesting continued. I began to despair of ever being able to move her. Her body was a rock of solid muscle, every muscle, tendon and sinew tensed in resistance to mine. My nipples pressed firmly against hers as they waged a battle of their own. My biceps ached, and I knew they would be black and blue from the force of Ms T’s grip. My legs, already sore from our first contest, felt as if they could no longer support my weight. Ms T almost screamed as she lifted her chin off my shoulder. I raised mine as well and we almost rammed foreheads and noses. Our eyes, now only a scant inch apart, glared angrily and almost maniacally into the other’s. I almost slipped as Ms T pressed even harder. Now it was my turn to scream as I strove to resist her almost inhuman strength. Love can do strange things. Love can ultimately make us hate so strongly that seemingly insurmountable obstacles can be overcome. I called on my newfound love for Tonya and held off Ms T’s surge. I then mounted an assault of my own and our seemingly endless standoff was broken. I moved her back one halting step, then another. Suddenly Ms T was almost backpedaling, trying to maintain her balance on shaky legs whose power was spent. Back, further and faster as I almost lifted her off the ground in a spasm of unearthly power. Back, until she slammed into the wall with enough force to drive the wind from her lungs. Gasping for air, broken and exhausted, on the verge of fainting, she slumped down to the floor. I stood over her, breathing deeply. I then knelt over her and took her face in my strong hands and squeezed. "If you ever - ever! - fuck with any girl in this school, in this town, in this fucking state, I will track you down and kill you with my bare hands! Do you understand me? Do you believe me?" She looked at me with glassy eyes that now carried only a vestige of their previous hatred. She nodded weakly. I let Tonya’s strong arms help me up. With her assistance I limped to the door. I took one last look back at the slumped, beaten form across the room, then turned, with Tonya’s arm around my waist, and walked into a new chapter of my life.