The Revenge of the Fat Girl: Part 5
by M.C.
Randi's boyfriend describes what it's like to have a powerful Amazon for a girlfriend.


"One...two...three...four. Steve honey, please try and remain still. It would
be a shame if I accidently dropped you on the floor. Five...six...seven..."

"I'm trying to Randi but it isn't easy; I've never been a dumbbell before."

"Barbell Steve, barbell. You're a straight "A" student, so you're definiately
not a dumbbell. Nine...ten...eleven..."

Randi was lying on the bed holding me crosswise up above her in her powerful
outstretched arms. Her right hand was placed underneath my chest and her left
was firmly clutching my right thigh. We were both completely naked and, when
she lowered me, my chest rested momentarily against her massive 44
inch breasts. Not surprisingly, I found this to be very stimulating - a fact
that didn't escape her notice. "Twelve...thirteen...fourteen; that's better
sweetie."

When Randi lowered me for the fifteenth time she did so at a slight angle and
I felt a warm, wet sensation around my hardened sexual organ. "Randi, what on
earth are you doing? "

"If you don't know Stevie, then maybe you are a dumbbell after all; tee, hee,
hee. Fifteen...sixteen...seventeen..." She sucked on my penis again for the
eighteenth, nineteenth and 20th presses; by then I was ready to explode. "O.K.
loverboy, I think that's enough lifting for today." She gently lowered my 175
pounds lengthwise on top of her. "Now, let's do something about this beautiful
erection of yours shall we." And so we did.

Life with the *new* Randi - my 245 pound muscular girlfriend (she's added 15
pounds of muscle to her already awesome frame in the last three months and her
biceps now measure in at a staggering 18 inches! ) - does have it's
advantages; her bedroom exercises being only one of them. In school, I've
noticed that people treat me with a great deal more respect than they used to
because of my relationship to her. Even when I'm not with Randi, students that
never even knew I existed before now smile at me and ask how things are going.
I suppose that's natural when the strongest and  toughest kid in school
happens to be your girlfriend. Things sure were a whole lot different when she
was a 310 pound *fatso*.

It took Randi a couple of months to convince all the tough guys in school that
she was the head honcho or, as she likes to say, the head honchess. But now
that she's established that fact beyond a shadow of a doubt, Randi seldom has
to fight anymore. In fact, the last time she fought somebody was over a month
ago when a bully she had beaten showed up with his large older brother while
she was working out in the weight room; wanting to avenge his brother's
humiliation (because Randi wants me to put on some muscle too, and working
out with her gives us more time to be together, I was there at the time and
witnessed the whole thing).

Even though he had been a heavyweight wrestler in college, and used to be the
most feared boy in our school in his time, Randi had little difficulty
kicking the crap out of him and, for good measure, she also beat up the
younger brother again at the same time.  I'll never forget the sight of Randi
laughing as she took turns battering first one and then the other around the
weight room. Finally, with both of them nearly in tears from her beating,
Randi wrapped her powerful arms around their heads and held the brothers in
headlocks for several minutes while I went to get my camera. A large, blow-up
picture of my strong and beautiful girlfriend, smiling as she holds the two
helpless brothers in her awesome arms, now graces my bedroom wall.

In just three short months, Randi had turned our high school - which once had
the reputation as being one of the most unruley in the district - into a model
campus. There was no more fighting (Randi made it know to all that anybody who
fights in school would have to answer to her), bullying in the halls was a
thing of the past as was extorting money from the weaker students. Like the
classic western movie where the tough sheriff comes in and 'cleans up the
town', Randi, my amazing girlfriend, literally cleaned up our school;  by
herself.

I was sitting on Randi's bed, brushing her beautiful hair this afternoon (one
of my favorite activities) and I asked her how she felt about what she had
accomplished. "Stevie, I think you're making way to much of a fuss
about this," she said modestly," all I did is what should have been done a
long time ago."

"That may be true Randi, but there wasn't anybody who would - or could - do
it; not until you came along that is. You're incredible."

"Oh Stevie, you're so sweet. That's why I love you." Randi turned around and
put her massive arms around me. She hugged (squeezed) me until I felt I was
going to lose consciousness. "Oooopsie, I'll have to remember to be more
gentle with my hugs from now on you little schmoo, tee, hee, hee"  (well, I
guess there are some disadvantages to having a superstrong girlfriend after
all). After I recovered from her kiss, she turned around again and I
resumed brushing her hair.

Despite her size, Randi is surprisingly agile for a big woman; something her
teammates on the basketball team - as well as her opponents - know only too
well. With her size, strength and quickness, as well as her unselfish style of
play, she led her team to it's first ever city championship. Although she
averaged less than ten points a game (she preferred to let her teammates do
the scoring) Randi was fourth in the league in assists and second in
rebounding. She was named the league's most valuable player and may very well
have earned herself a full college athletic scholarship.

Watching her move up and down the basketball court made me wonder what Randi
might have done had she tried out for the football team as a running back. I
wouldn't have envied the guy that tried to stop her. She could have made a
great lineman - err linewoman - too; plowing through the opposing team to
flatten their quarterback or knocking would-be tacklers aside to create holes
for the ball-carrier on hers. When I mentioned this to her once she
simply giggled and said,"we'll never know, will we Steve?"

I did get to see Randi compete against some of the the guys on the basketball
team once though. She and two of her teammates were shooting baskets in the
gym after practice when some of the players on the men's team wanted to use
the court (I was sitting up in the stands doing my algebra homework at the
time). They could have shared the court and used the other side and but they
wanted to play a full-court game. In the pre-super Randi era they might have
just demanded it and kicked the girls off. But none of them wanted to tangle
with a six-foot, 245 pound muscular girl that easily beat up the once feared
Tim Morgan. So they did the next best thing,"we'll play you girls for the
court; three-on-three to ten baskets." Randi and her friends agreed.

Needless to say, the boys put up their three best players. Though none of the
girls stood taller then any of the guys and, except for Randi, they were no
where near as strong, they did have a few things going for them. Nancy, the
starting point guard on the woman's team,  was a marvelous ball handler and
Karen had a fantastic outside shot; she hardly ever misses when she's open.
And, of course, there's Randi who, once she positions herself underneath the
basket, can't be moved by anything lighter than a Sherman tank. So it wasn't
quite the mismatch you might expect.

By virtue of Karen's swish shot from the top of the key, the girls brought out
the ball first. Perhaps the guys underestimated their opponents, or maybe they
just weren't ready but, for whatever reason, the girls hit the ground running.
Nancy passed the ball in to Karen and she easily nailed the 20 footer to give
the girls a one to nothing lead. The boys weren't so sharp at first. When Rich
missed with his outside shot, Randi easily bullied Mike - the men's six-foot
six inch, 225 pound starting center - out of the way, grabbed the rebound and
quickly passed the ball out to the unguarded Karen. SWISH!  Two - zip for the
girls. Randi looked up in my direction and gave me the thumbs up.

The boys finally got on the scoreboard when Larry made a driving lay-up, but
another bulls- eye from the outside by little miss sure shot (Karen stood only
five-feet five inches tall) and the girls were back to a two point lead. Rich
made his basket this time and started to guard Karen; so she passed the ball
off to Nancy who dribbled around Larry for an easy lay-up; Randi's screen
stopped Mike in his tracks. Four-two; a small crowd was beginning to gather
now as word of this contest spread. The game followed this pattern until, at
8-6, for the girls, the boys began to get desperate. They were the league
leaders, how could they be losing to a bunch of girls?

Rich took the inbound pass and slammed into Karen as he drove towards
the basket; sending the 120 pound girl to the floor. He might have made the
shot too if a 245 pound wall of female muscle named Randi Simpson hadn't
smashed into him. Not only did she  flatten the 200 pound boy, but she also
knocked the basketball out of his hands. It rolled right into the waiting
hands of Nancy who faked a shot, passed the ball to Randi underneath the
basket and, just like that, it was 9-6 for the *weaker* sex. Karen got to her
feet almost immediately, Rich wasn't so lucky. He limped off the court and a
substitute had to replace him (I could clearly hear Randi giggling from where
I sat).

Larry passed the ball into Mike - their center and strongest player on the
team - who then tried to force his way to the basket. Guarded by Randi, he'd
have been more successful trying to move a grizzly bear. He slammed into her
several times but she just laughed and pushed him back (gently though because,
unlike Rich, Mike was playing within what she considered to be acceptable
force; and also because Mike's a good friend of mine). Failing to push his way
past her, Mike then tried to dribble around this female Rock of Gibraltar.

With a lightning quick move, Randi reached in and stripped the ball away from
him. She passed it off to Nancy who, in turn, passed it to Karen. Back
to Randi and then to Nancy again. Karen, Randi, Nancy, Karen, Nancy,
Randi...The girls were giggling amongst themselves as they gave the boys a
clinic in passing and ball control. The boys were obviously frustrated (it
didn't help that the small crowd that had gathered to watch were mostly
females who were cheering the girls on) but there was nothing they could do
about it. They knew better than to try any rough stuff with Randi around;
remember Rich?

Finally the girls decided to put their male counterparts out of their misery.
A slick, behind- the-back pass from Nancy to the wide open Karen and the boys
were history; 10-6. After hugging and high-fiving themselves, Randi picked up
the basketball and handed it to a very disgruntled Mike. "Here you go
Mikey, you can have the court now. We were going to leave soon anyway and, by
the looks of things, you guys need the practice a lot more than we do; tee,
hee, hee." (Hey, I never said Randi was perfect, did I

She then went over to where Rich sat and apologised for slamming hard him to
the floor. "But you were way too rough on Karen," she reminded him," and I
think you owe her an apology...and a dinner." Everyone knows that when my huge
Amazonian girlfriend says something like that, it's not a request. Wisely,
Rich apologised to Karen and offered to take her out; an offer which the
petite blond with the deadly outside shot immediately accepted. Randi the
matchmaker?

I reminded Randi of that game as I brushed her hair today."Yes, it was great
to kick their pompous asses," she giggled,"and Karen had mentioned to me once
that she had a thing for Rich. We offered the guys a rematch after they won
their league title but their coach refused to allow them to play against us."

"Why?"

"Although he never said why - so I can't really be sure - I believe
there were a couple of reasons. First of all, he probably didn't want his team
to enter the post-season with shattered egos after we beat them again; which
we almost certainly would have done. And second, remembering what I did to
Rich, he probably didn't want to risk an injury to any of his key players.
Imagine Stevie, those big, tough macho guys afraid of us meek and helpless
females; tee, hee, hee."

I stopped brushing her hair and put my arms around my huge Amazon girlfriend;
resting my head on her massive back. "Randi, I love you; you big, strong,
georgous hunk of woman."

She turned around and embraced me again, gently this time. "And I love you
too, my sweet,  kind and handsome little schmoo."