One Strong, Tough Girl 
By M.C. 
A strong, tough girl tames a family of bullies


Hi, my name is Karen. I'm 18 years old and I'm one tough girl. I don't know
how I got to be so strong and tough, I guess it's just my nature. And although
I do work out with weights and am very well-toned and fit, that doesn't
explain why I'm such an excellent fighter. I never studied martial arts or
anything like that, but I've also never lost a fight in my life. But I'm not a
bully mind you, in fact I despise bullies. And that's where my story begins.

It was last summer when, after my father passed away from cancer, my mom, a
bank manager, got a job promotion. But that meant that she, my sister Mary
(whose one year older than me) and I had to move into a different part of the
city so my mom could be closer to her new branch. One day as I was walking
around exploring my new neighborhood, I came upon a local park and saw
something that disturbed me. There was a large boy (who it turned out lives
right across the street from me) beating up on a much smaller boy. I didn't
know what the fight was about but because one of the boys was so much larger
and stronger than the other, I decided to go over and investigate.

"What's going on?" I asked one of the kids who was watching.

"That's Rick Johnson," he replied. "He's one of the strongest, toughest boys
in our school and he's beating up Ralph because Ralph accidently bumped into
him. His older brother and father are also bullies. In fact he whole
neighborhood has been intimidated by the three of them for years."

"Well, it looks like somebody ought to do something about this situation,
doesn't it (did I mention how much I despise bullies)?" I walked over to where
the fight was going on and stood in-between Rick and Ralph, facing off against
the large boy. "That's enough! If you want to fight somebody then fight me
instead tough guy!" It must have seemed strange for this boy who stood at
least six feet tall and easily weighed over two hundred muscular pounds to be
confronted by a five foot-six inch 130 pound girl, and he responded
accordingly.

"And just who the hell are you?" he growled down at me.

I was standing a few feet away from him with my hands on my hips. "My name is
Karen Simpson and I recently moved into the neighborhood. And if you don't
want to get a good ass whipping you'll back off now you big bully!" I was
baiting him and, as I knew he would, he swallowed the bait - hook, line and
sinker (guys are so easy to manipulate). Rick reached out to grab me, but
THUMP! instead he got a hard right fist deep into the pit of his stomach. "A
little soft in the tummy are we?" I teased. He then threw a wild right hook at
me which I easily ducked under and began to pepper his face with quick lefts
and rights which he was unable to block or avoid. My fists, though small, are
rock-hard, and I have cat-like quickness. And because he was so much larger
than me he made a fairly easy target.

PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH! After four lightning fast jabs to his face his
nose began to bleed, so I decided to concentrate my punches on different parts
of his anatomy like his eyes, jaw, chest and stomach. It never ceases to amaze
me how large bullies like Rick think that they can simply overwhelm a good
fighter like me by using nothing more than brute strength. Here I am, bashing
him all around the park and he still keeps coming after me. After I gave him a
bloody nose and lip, at least one black eye and probably a dozen other welts
and bruises over various parts of his body while he hasn't hit me even once,
and yet he still charges forward. Is he just too stupid to realize that I'm
much better fighter than he is? Oh well, at least it makes it easier for me.

POW! After knocking him down with a solid right uppercut to his jaw, I decided
to have some fun at his expense. I took a few steps back and began to fluff up
my long, pretty brown hair. "So, you're the roughest, toughest guy in my new
school are you? I've hardly even worked up a sweat yet, tee, hee. Perhaps I
can give you a few boxing lessons someday," (I love teasing bullies while I'm
pounding them, it really rubs in the fact that they're getting beaten up by a
girl).

Rick, furious now, got up and stormed over to where I was standing. WHAM! POW!
THUMP! But after three more hard, well-placed punches he found himself on the
ground again and I resumed fluffing up my hair. "Actually I'm rather
disappointed in you Ricky (I later learned that nobody ever calls him that, at
least not until now), I was expecting a much better workout from the roughest,
toughest boy in my new school. If you ask me, I think that you're very
overrated." He got up again, albeit more slowly this time, but after another
series of hard, well placed punches to his face and mid-section he went down
again, and this time it was obvious that he wasn't going to get back up, at
least not for a while.

I walked over to where he was lying and put my right foot on his chest and my
hands on my hips (my standard victory pose that I had done more times than I
can count). Smiling down at the battered ex-bully I continued to tease him (oh
how I just love doing that). "Well tough guy, not quite as tough as you
thought were, were you? I mean if a little girl like me can beat you up so
easily." I fluffed up my hair again to further rub in the fact that it was a
girl who pummeled him. All around us the other kids were cheering me! (what a
great way to introduce myself to my new neighborhood). But I wasn't through
with Rick yet (in fact I was just getting started - although I didn't realize
it at the time).

I reached down and grabbed him firmly by the collar of his shirt and dragged
him (did I mention that I'm very strong for a girl my size) over to the
nearest park bench. I sat down and yanked the hapless boy across my knees. "I
understand that you've been a bully for quite some time Ricky, but those days
are over now. Mommy is going to give you a good spanking you naughty boy," (I
love spanking bullies after I've beaten them up, I find it so.well, erotic). I
pulled down his pants and boxer shorts exposing his nice tushie and began to
whack him hard with my open right hand. I guess the shock of being beaten up
in public by a much smaller girl, combined with the humiliation of being
spanked by her was too much for the rough, tough bully and he broke down and
began to cry after only a few spanks. "Crying already Ricky?" I teased. "Why
I'm only getting started." I continued to spank the large, strong, crying boy
that was draped across my thighs until I felt he had had enough (secret: I
also had an orgasm while I was spanking him). I let him cry for a few more
minutes, relishing in the complete domination that I had over him.

"Ricky," I said softly, "have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes," he sobbed.

"And you're not going to be a bully anymore?"

"No (sob) I won't."

I motioned to Ralph, who had watched this all from the sidelines with the
other kids in the park, to come over. "Now I want you to apologize to Ralph,
Ricky, for beating him and promise never to bully him again." After he had
done so I said, "O.K. Ricky, you can get up now. But I'm not done with your
family yet."

"What.what do you mean by that Karen?"

"I heard that you, your brother and your father are all bullies who have been
intimidating this neighborhood for years and I think it's time somebody put a
stop to it; and I'm just the girl to do it. So let's walk home now, I might as
well kill three birds with one stone today, so to speak." We walked the half
mile to where we live, (remember, the Johnsons live right across the street
from me now) and I boldly entered their home. Upon entering I could easily see
that their house was a mess. Dirty dishes all over the place, filthy floors
and walls and the back yard was a complete disaster. "I'm going to have to do
something about this," I said to myself. Fortunately as it was a Saturday
afternoon both Rick's father and his older brother were there. His father Alan
is an auto mechanic at the local gas station and auto shop and his older
brother Ron is the star middle linebacker for his university's football team
who was home for the summer. The two large and tough looking guys were sitting
on the couch in their living room, drinking beer and watching a baseball game
on the television.

I walked in front of the T.V., turned it off, put my hands on my hips (my
favorite pose in case you haven't noticed by now) and said, "O.K. boys, your
days of intimidating the people in this neighborhood are now officially over.
There's a new sheriff in town," (I just love that line and use it every chance
I get).

"And just who the hell are you?" they said, almost in unison (gee, it must be
a family trait). Rising to their feet they both started to approach me. "Turn
the god damn T.V. back on now," Mr. Johnson demanded, "or else!"

"My, my, what a potty mouth you have there Mr. Johnson. It looks like I'm
going to have to teach you a lesson in manners."

Before taking them on I turned to Rick and, in a stern no-nonsense tone said,
"if you try to intervene in this I'm going to beat you to a pulp again.
Furthermore, you're to watch everything that happens, because if I catch you
looking away at any time you will be severely punished. Do you understand?"
Satisfied that Rick did indeed understand what I told him - although I suspect
it was because he fully expected his strong, tough father and brother to 'put
me in my place' so to speak - I turned again to confront them.

POW! SMACK! WHAM! When I'm fighting against two large, strong guys like these
at once I always take the initiative, for, despite my strength, toughness and
fighting skills, they are still, after all, both larger and stronger than I
am. Not to worry though (did I mention that I'm a very good fighter?). With
several fast, powerful and well placed punches to their faces, I drove them
both back and then immediately assumed the offensive. WHAM! THUMP! CRACK!
SLAM! Using the fighting skills I had honed over the years, I began to
systematically pound my two large opponents (both of whom were at least six
feet tall and must have weighed well over two hundred pounds to my measly five
foot six inch, 130 pound frame) all around the room. PUNCH! PUNCH! PUNCH!
PUNCH! Alternating quickly between Ron and his father, I easily bashed them
with my rock-hard fists. From time to time I would look over at Rick to make
sure that he was indeed watching (I really hate it when guys disobey me)
before returning to beating up his father and brother.

Finally, after knocking Ron and his father all around the living room for a
while, I managed to back them both into one of the corners (not as easy as it
may seem, try it sometime) and was now pounding them at will. Again I glanced
over at Rick and what I saw angered me. WHAM! SOCK! With a powerful punch to
each of their jaws, I sent them both to the floor. I marched over to where
Rick was standing, grabbed firmly by the collar of his shirt with my left hand
and began slapping him back and forth across the face with my right. "I told
you, SLAP!, not to look away, SLAP!, while I was beating up your father and
brother, SLAP!, but you disobeyed me, SLAP!, so now I have to punish you,
SLAP! SLAP1 SLAP! " (I know that it may seem to you now that I'm a cruel,
sadistic bitch. But I do have a master plan here, just read on and I guarantee
you that you'll understand everything).

"Please stop slapping me Karen," Rick pleaded, with tears rolling down his
cheeks. "I'm sorry, but it's just very difficult for me to watch you, a small
girl, beating up my strong, tough, macho father and brother, people that I've
looked up to all my life. I won't look away again. I promise."

I had my right hand cocked back and was prepared to slap Rick again before he
said this. Slowly, I lowered it. "Very well then Rick, I'll stop slapping you.
But you'd better not let your eyes wander again. Because the next time I catch
you doing it, I won't be as lenient with you as I was this time. Understand?"

"Yes Karen," he meekly replied. Satisfied that Rick had indeed learned his
lesson, I released my grip on his shirt and returned to the business of
teaching his father and brother (both of whom were now slowly getting to their
feet) a lesson. And after a few more minutes of relentless pounding from my
rock-solid fists, both of these large, tough men lay on the floor again -
beaten into submission by a mere seventeen year-old girl!

While they lay on the floor - too badly beaten to even try to get up - I
walked into the kitchen (boy was it filthy, there were dirty dishes
everywhere!) and returned with one of the chairs. I placed it in- between Mr.
Johnson and Ron and sat down. Reaching over, I grabbed Ron (the big, strong
star linebacker of his university's football team) by the hair and yanked
across my knees. I then pulled down the sweatpants he was wearing as well as
his boxer shorts and began to spank him hard with my open right hand - after
all, there's nothing like a good beating and spanking bullies in their place.
And it wasn't long before I had this rough, tough macho guy crying like a baby
(males may get bigger and stronger as they grow up, but I've found that they
are all just 'little boys' at heart, many in need of a strong female to get
them to 'toe the line').

I let Ron cry for a minute or two before ordering him to get up and stand next
to his brother. After he had done so, I grabbed Mr. Johnson by the hair and
yanked him too over my knees, pulled down his pants and undies. Looking over
at Rick and Ron I said sternly," I'd better not catch you boys looking away
while I'm spanking your father. He raised you to be the bullies you became, so
he has to be punished too." And with that, I began to spank Mr. Johnson's
bottom in front of his two sons who, no doubt, grew up idolizing their rough,
tough macho father.

There's something about what I'm doing today - singlehandedly beating up and
humiliating these three large, strong, macho guys and then reducing then to
nothing more than pathetic crybabies in one afternoon - that I find very
erotic. After all, as I said before, I'm just a seventeen year-old girl who
weighs all of 130 pounds, and yet here I am, totally dominating them in a way
that they've never been dominated before. I guess it's what they call 'female
domination'. But whatever it is, I totally love it! To be in complete control
of these three large, tough males, well, what can I say? It's very arousing.
And as I spanked Mr. Johnson to tears while forcing his sons to watch their
father's humiliation at my hand (pun intended), I couldn't help having an
orgasm - my second of the day.

After I felt he had had enough, I stopped spanking Mr. Johnson and let him cry
for a bit. And while he did so, I fluffed up my pretty hair - further rubbing
in the fact that these three tough guys were being dominated by a girl. "O.K.
Mr. Johnson, get up now and stand next to your sons. I have a few things to
say to the three of you." I rose from the chair and stood before them, and
even though they must have weighed over 650 pounds between them - to my 130 -
I had absolutely no fear because it was obvious to me that they had been
beaten into complete submission, all by little ole me (wink).

"O.K. guys," I said in a strong, stern voice, "this is what we're going to do.
This house is a complete mess, in fact your lives are a complete mess." Rick
told me on our way over here from the park that his mother died in a tragic
automobile accident two years ago (ironically, about the same time that my dad
died of cancer) and things began to fall apart for your family after that. "So
I'm going to whip you boys back into shape. First, I'm going to write out a
list of chores for you to do around the house and yards - and you'd better do
them. Because if you don't, you will be punished." SMACK! I pounded my right
fist hard into my left palm to emphasize my point. "And after you've
straightened up this place, we're going to have another 'girl-to-guys' session
and I'll tell you what you're going to do next. And I hope for your sakes that
this is all clear to you."

I then proceeded to write down a list of chores that I expected each of them
to do every day in order to get their home (as well as their lives) back into
shape, and every day I would come over to see if they had done what I had
'requested'. The very next day I noticed that the backyard had not been raked
to my satisfaction, so I forced Rick and Ron to watch as I spanked their
father to tears again. "When I tell you to rake the leaves in the backyard Mr.
Johnson, SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!, I mean ALL of the leaves - not just some of
them, SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Now go out and finish your chore!" Meekly, he did
so (I found that guys can be so obstinate sometimes, that's why they need a
strong, tough female to guide them in the proper direction - as I was doing
here). After that incident, none of the Johnsons skimped on their chores
again.

Seven Days Later.

It was Friday afternoon, one week after my first confrontation with the
Johnson family. After sitting these three large, strong guys on the couch in
their living room, I stood before them with my hands on my hips. "Well boys,"
I began, "you've done a very good job here. Your house and yards are
up-to-speed. So now it's time for the next phase of my plan."

"What.what do you mean by that Karen?" Rick asked, making no effort to hide
the trepidation in his voice.

"I mean this Ricky. Mr. Johnson, you're going to shower and clean yourself up
now, and then get dressed in nice weekend clothes. Then you're going to walk
across the street and invite my mother out on a date. Both of you suffered a
terrible tragedy and I think you'll be good for each other. You're going to
take her out for a nice dinner and a movie - and you'd better treat her
well.or else! (I didn't need to smack my fist into my palm this time as the
look on his face told me he understood very well what I'd do to him if he
disobeyed me). And you Ron, you're also going to shower and get dressed
nicely. Then you're going to go over and ask my sister Mary out tonight. She's
very nice but somewhat shy and we're new to the neighborhood, so I think it
would a good way for the two of you to get acquainted."

"I'm afraid I can't do that Karen."

"And why is that Ron?" I asked, getting a bit angry now.

"Because I already have a girlfriend. She's a cheerleader at the university."

Now I completely lost it, for this would ruin my grand plan. I walked over to
him, grabbed the six foot-four inch, 230 pound, muscular university football
linebacker firmly by the collar of his shirt and began slapping him hard back
and forth across the face. "I told you SLAP! that you're going to take my
sister out tonight SLAP! CRACK! and that's exactly what you're going to do!
SLAP! CRACK! SLAP! And furthermore, SLAP! CRACK! SLAP! you're going to break
up with this cheerleader girlfriend of yours, SLAP! CRACK! and begin dating my
sister! SLAP! CRACK! SLAP! CRACK! Do you understand?"

Tears were falling freely down Ron's badly bruised face now and I could tell
that he was near his breaking point (I have a lot of experience in these
matters). And after a few more hard slaps, he broke down completely. "O.K.
Karen, I'll.I'll do what you ask," he cried. "But please, please stop slapping
me." (You see, there are advantages in being a strong, tough girl).

"Very well then Ron. I want you to take out your cell-phone and call this
girlfriend of yours right now and break up with her - and put it on
speaker-phone so that I can also hear your conversation." With his hands
trembling, the big, strong university football player that I had just reduced
to a pathetic crybaby in just two minutes (oh how I just love being a strong,
tough girl) reached into the pocket of his pants, took out his phone and
dialed his girlfriend's number. As I demanded, he broke off their relationship
and then fell to his knees, crying. "There, there Ronnie," I said softly as I
gently patted him on the head. "It'll all work for the best for everybody.
After all, if she's a cheerleader then she's probably very pretty - so I'm
sure she'll have no problem finding another boyfriend. And now you're free to
begin dating my sister who will begin studying at the same university as you
next semester."

I let him cry for a minute or two before saying, "O.K. Ron, I'm giving you and
your father exactly thirty minutes to get yourselves cleaned up, dressed and
go across the street and do what I told you to do.that's thirty minutes, and
not one minute more. Understand? So I suggest that you both get started.NOW!"
And so they did.

After they had left, I turned to Rick who was standing near me with his head
down. "You. you humiliated us Karen," he said in a subdued voice. "You came in
here, beat us all up, then dominated and humiliated us." Tears were beginning
to form in his eyes. I understood what his problem was and what I now needed
to do to help him get over it. I took him by the hand and led him into his
bedroom. I ordered him to take off all of his clothes and sit down on the bed,
then I took off my clothes and sat down next to him.

"Ricky," I began, "you, your father and brother were a bunch of bullies who
needed to be taught a good lesson on how to behave yourselves, so I taught you
one. Now I know it must have been very difficult for you three big, strong,
macho guys to have to endure the experience of having me - a five foot-six
inch, 130 pound seventeen year-old girl - beat you all up, then spank you to
tears and force you to make a complete change of your lifestyles, but look at
it this way, I did in just one week something that would have required many
years of therapy to accomplish, and I did it for free too (smirk). I did what
was necessary, both for the sake of your family as well as mine. And I'm sure
that while it may not seem possible now, someday I believe you'll all thank me
for what I did to you guys."

Then I suddenly felt an irresistible urge to do something that I had never
done before. I gently pushed the still sobbing Rick down on his bed and
positioned him so he was lying with his head dangling over the side. Satisfied
that he was lying the way I wanted him to, I sat down on his chest with my
pussy only a few inches above his face. Grabbing him firmly by the back of his
head, I forced his mouth into my womanhood. "All right now you big crybaby," I
said with mock sternness, "let's see what you can do with that tongue of
yours. Pleasure me!" And so he did, for the rest of that afternoon and well
into the night.

Epilogue: One Year Later

It has been nearly a year since the events that I described above took place.
And since then a few rather significant changes have taken place. For
starters, Mr. Johnson and my mother fell in love and last month (with a little
bit of prodding from you-know-who) Mr. Johnson proposed to her and she
accepted. The marriage is scheduled to take place in two weeks. Ron and Mary
are boyfriend/girlfriend and live together in an apartment just off the campus
of the university where both Ricky and I will begin attending in the Fall (we
are also boyfriend/girlfriend). I was beginning to wonder if the 'tough love'
that I forced upon the Johnson family last year would ever be appreciated -
until last week that is.

I came home from my daily workout in the gym and saw a package on my bed with
a card on top of it. I opened the package and saw a beautiful blue dress
inside (blue is my favorite color). I opened the card and this is what was
written inside:

"Dearest Karen,

We, the Johnson Family, would like to thank you for the lesson you taught us
last year. For it was only through your strength, discipline and wisdom that
we learned how to live and love again. Please accept this as a token of our
appreciation. You truly are a 'Wonder girl'."

The Johnson Family: Alan, Ron and Rick

I guess there are certain advantages to being a strong, tough girl (wink).