Community Property
By Merz
A bad end to a marriage just gets worse

Nothing about the weekend was turning out.  Bob pulled up in front 
of his ex-wife's townhouse and recognized her boyfriend's Mustang 
parked out front.  Great.  As if she wasn't bad enough, he'd have 
to speak civilly to that meathead.  In other states if he could 
convince her to marry that ape, Bob could get out from under 
paying alimony to the bitch.  But he lived in a community property 
state and would never get out from under paying Darlene a share of 
his income.  In the eyes of the law, because she had worked to 
support him through college and law school, and then carried most 
of the household expenses while he was setting up his practice 
before merging with a up and coming firm, she owned a share of him 
and was entitled to share the earnings that came from her 
investment.  She had waited until the merged firm was a clear 
success before serving him with the divorce papers to be sure her 
share would be good and fat.  He didn't just cash her out because 
he had never gotten that far ahead of his own bills to have the 
necessary capital, so his accountant just sent Darlene a check 
each month.

He popped a couple more aspirin to fight the hangover his Friday 
night had left him with, slammed the car door and started across 
the street.  At least if the pet gorilla was there, Darlene might 
go a little easier on him.  Maybe he could even enlist her goon to 
take the man's side in their ongoing war.  Yeah, he was trained in 
techniques other than purely adversarial contests in the 
courtroom.  He was good at winning clients and plaintiffs to see 
the other side ' the side that profited him.  With a little sweet 
talk, a little man to man talk, he could get Greg to side with him 
instead of sitting back while Darlene humiliated him again.  It 
was sure worth a try.

He rang the bell and waited, trying to interpret the muffled 
sounds coming through the thick door panel.  The ruckus, whatever 
it had been, ended and the house went quiet for a moment before 
the door swung open.  Bob's hope fell.  He had forgotten just who 
Greg was, or wasn't.  He wouldn't be trying to win over another 
man.  He was facing a boy-toy, an overgrown, overdeveloped 
juvenile delinquent stuck permanently in adolescence.  

Greg looked Bob up and down with his usual puzzled expression, as 
if to say, 'What did she ever see in you''  Bob had never seen 
Greg wearing long pants.  Now he wore his usual white tennis 
shorts.   Bob had never seen Greg wear a proper shirt, and now he 
wore a polo shirt open at the neck and turned up an inch at the 
sleeves to emphasize the thickness of his upper arms.  Greg was at 
least a dozen years younger than Bob, or Darlene for that matter, 
and seemed even less mature.  His hair was disheveled and he 
always wore a stubbly beard.  

Bob choked down the sense of futility and decided to try his plan 
of getting Greg on his side.  He smiled, deliberately getting his 
whole face into the act.  'Greg, how's it going'  The Mustang sure 
looks sweet today.'  His car was one anchor to Greg's vanity, and 
Bob thought it would be the safest angle to start working on.  
Greg stepped aside and motioned Bob in.

'Thanks, it's running great.  Just had the exhausts tuned so when 
me and my lady step out, they can hear us coming.  She's getting a 
drink, and Katy's in the back.  What you got planned with Katy for 
the weekend''

Not much, Bob thought.  The usual.   Park Katy and hope to get a 
sitter while he played golf and then made the rounds of the bars 
with this month's hottie.  If he couldn't get a sitter at the last 
minute, Katy's old enough to leave alone in his house.  Then he'd 
get up late Sunday so he could have breakfast while Katy ate 
lunch, where he'd make another pitch to turn his daughter against 
her mother and try to pry out some incriminating secrets he could 
take to court to get the two leeches off of his bank account.  
'We're going to have a great time.  You're looking pretty buff.  
Been working out''  As if Greg had anything else to do after his 
loser job but work out, bang his ex-wife, do some surfing, and 
drive around town in his hot car.

'Yeah, she keeps me at it.  I'm too busy to really keep up the way 
I'd like, but I just kicked her ass so yeah, I still have what it 
takes.'  Greg led the way into the modest living room.  At least 
she isn't throwing her money ' hell, my money ' away on flashy 
furniture, Bob thought.  Just a flashy young stud and all that 
iron.

'Hi, Bob, how's it going''  Darlene walked in from the kitchen 
carrying a water glass.  'Greg and I have one thing to finish up, 
and Katy's all packed.  You ready, hon'  I have a little surprise 
for you for third fall.'

As always, every other weekend when he picked up his daughter, Bob 
thought he had prepared himself to face his ex-wife, and like 
every time she still took him by surprise.  Her shorts were 
shorter and tighter than Greg's, her shirt thinner and more snug 
over her form. And her muscles were just as large and defined.  
Darlene and Greg made a well matched couple because they were 
about the same height, a couple inches shorter than Bob, and 
because they both radiated health and vitality no matter how they 
were dressed.  When he saw them out in public Darlene occasionally 
dressed to disguise the fact that she and Greg would make a 
matching pair of muscular bookends.  Just as she had disguised 
herself while planning the end of her marriage to Bob.  Those 
times when she wore long sleeves and a dress Bob might see the 
gorgeous young woman he had married in her handsome, mature face 
and forget the monster she had become.

'What kind of surprise'  No way you can hide anything in that 
outfit,' Greg told her with a grin and a sideways leer at Bob.  
'Doesn't she look terrific'  She keeps saying she owes it all to 
you.'

'I do.  And we have an anniversary coming up, don't we Bob''  
Darleen took a drink of water, her biceps piling up unmistakably 
when she bent her arm.  She set down the glass and faced Greg.  
'Like all the best surprises, lover, it's hidden in plain sight.'

Bob thought quickly.  Anniversary'  He sank onto the sofa when he 
realized what event she referred to.  

Greg abruptly lunged at Darlene, they grappled for a moment, and 
he shot around behind her with her thick right arm in his grasp.  
'Hah,' he cried as he began twisting her arm upward into a painful 
hammerlock.  'I thought you'd learn by now what my favorite hold 
is.  Baby, you better give up right now.'  He gripped her shoulder 
and Bob squirmed to see how small his hand looked on top of the 
round deltoid muscles.

'That's the surprise.'  Darlene sounded calm and amused.  Bob 
noticed she was in no discomfort from Greg's hold.  He was used to 
this sort of rough housing when he had to stop by to pick up his 
daughter for the weekends she spent at his house.  It was all just 
another reminder of how immature he thought Greg was, to wrestle 
with a woman, and how appalled he was at what his ex-wife had 
become since the divorce.

'Oh, Jesus, baby!  That's incredible!'  Greg continued holding 
Darlene's arm behind her back, straining to apply the hold.  'How 
did you come up with this''

Now Darlene was obviously straining as well.  Her face was set in 
grim concentration, the muscles of her trapped arm bulging, veins 
bursting to the surface.  Slowly, inch by inch she began 
straightening her arm against Greg's pressure.  'Well, you, know.  
Like you say, it's your favorite hold.'  She was gasping slightly 
from the effort as she forced her arm downward against Greg's 
resistance.  'I like to find a man's favorite weapon and then beat 
him with it.  Don't I, Bob''  Her arm was straight now, clutched 
futilely by Greg who still held it at the wrist, his other hand 
clutching Darlene's shoulder without seeming to get a solid grip.  
The triceps muscle stood out sharply like the classic iron 
horseshoe, looking harder than flesh and blood possibly could.

That anniversary.  Their marriage had been passionate but ugly.  
Darlene then was a beautiful woman with a trim figure and waves of 
auburn hair spilling over her shoulders.  She never complained at 
working full time in waitress jobs, cleaning jobs, clerical jobs, 
sometimes two jobs at a time to pay the bills while Bob went to 
school for seven years.  From the start she didn't complain about 
his temper when he brought frustrations home to her -- that he 
fell behind on assignments, that the reading piled up too high, 
that he couldn't afford to keep up with the social lives of other 
students and other young lawyers no matter how many hours Darlene 
worked.  Even when he turned violent she didn't complain.  At 
first.

She started to complain after Katy was born.  She still worked 
outside the house, and now paid for daycare on top of everything 
else.  After work she and her daughter always took a couple hours 
to get home where Darlene started cooking dinner.  Then there came 
the night eight years ago when Bob's temper snapped again.  He had 
overlooked something in a trial he was on and had been made to 
look incompetent in court.  As if he had been looking for an 
excuse he erupted when Darlene walked between him and the 
television that night during a basketball game.  He jumped up from 
his chair shouting that she had made him miss the biggest play of 
the game, and he slapped her as he had many times before.

This time she didn't retreat from him, didn't apologize, didn't so 
much as take a step backwards.  Bob remembered the sharp slap 
against her cheek, then a flash of her fist.  The next thing he 
knew he was lying on the living room floor and Darlene was leaning 
forward, watching him from his easy chair.  She had knocked him 
cold with one punch.  'Welcome back, Bob.  Now we're going to talk 
about the changes in our lives.'

 'Awesome, baby!  I've never seen anyone do this!'  Greg was 
bubbling with enthusiasm as he kept his useless grip on Darlene's 
arm.  'Triceps, huh'  Been hitting them really hard, I'll bet.  
Unbelievable.'

'Believe it, baby.'  Darlene abruptly bent forward and twisted so 
the pressure Greg continued putting on her arm carried him forward 
into the grasp of her left arm.  She scooped him up as if he were 
weightless and dumped him onto the floor where she quickly grabbed 
him in a scissors hold.

'Oh shit!  Not the legs again!  I give, you got me.  Two out of 
three, babe, but I'll remember about the hammer lock next time.  
OOOF.'  Darlene gave Greg a quick, crushing squeeze between her 
well-muscled thighs before releasing him so he gasped for breath 
as she rolled backwards and up to her feet.  Greg was up nearly as 
quickly and hugged Darlene hard, exchanging a long kiss.  

Bob sighed watching the couple.  In spite of himself he found he 
envied Greg at this moment.  If he had been able to accept 
Darlene's physical superiority he could have been the one clasped 
tight against her powerful physique while his arms crushed her 
against his own body.  Not that he could have stood up to that 
pressure or returned it in anything like equal measure as Greg was 
doing.

Being physically and emotionally abused by Bob had driven Darlene 
to start exercising.  For months before she first struck back, she 
had forbidden Bob to touch her, claiming she was embarrassed to 
have gained weight due to pregnancy.  He realized later it was 
really because she was making dramatic progress lifting weights, 
building a new body for herself, and one touch or glimpse would 
have betrayed her secret before she was ready.  'I didn't mean to 
hit you that hard,' she explained to him as he lay at her feet.  
'I didn't know how hard I could punch or what it would take.  I 
won't hit you that hard again.  Next time I'll make it last.  
Start something with me and you can be sure I'll finish it.'  Then 
she just stood up, stepped over him and threw all his clothes out 
of their bedroom.  Katy had a nursery room by then, so Bob moved 
into the small room while Katy and Darlene shared the master 
bedroom.  

The marriage went along on that basis for a few more years.  A few 
times in the first months Bob lost his temper with Darlene and she 
patiently demonstrated that knocking him out had not been an 
accident or a fluke.  She showed him she was stronger than he was, 
tougher, able to take his punches and crush him at her leisure.  

He learned that lesson fairly quickly, then she enjoyed showing 
him that her strength was still increasing.  Sometimes that took 
the form of ordering him to measure her biceps or chest or thighs 
and chart their growth.  Sometimes she surprised him with 
demonstrations such as handing him a bag of gravel she had lifted 
easily from the trunk of the car, and watching him strain to keep 
from dropping it.  Sometimes she made love to him, despite 
everything he could do to stop her.  It didn't happen often, no 
more than once a month.  But suddenly she would grab him and start 
stripping off his clothes.  He would fight against her, he would 
pound her unyielding shoulders and back, push against her arms, 
try to tear his wrists free from the single hand she used to hold 
them above his head as she tore off his shirt and pants and 
underwear.  Then he would try to deny how exciting it was to have 
this powerful creature stretch out over him, skin to skin, to have 
her take his hard penis in her free fist and begin slowly 
inserting it between her legs.  Sex with Darlene became the most 
exciting, painful, exhausting thing he had ever known.  Then, when 
Katy turned six she handed him the divorce papers, beat him until 
he agreed to each term of the settlement, and moved out.  She 
could have won the same package if he had opposed her in court but 
she preferred getting what she wanted from him through physical 
domination.

'Okay, Bob.  Let's go get Katy.  She's in the back.'  Darlene led 
the way through the kitchen, through to a large room littered with 
barbells.  Bob gasped as he entered and saw his ten year old 
daughter.  She, too, was wearing shorts and a stretchy sleeveless 
top.  The little girl was faced off in front of a large barbell 
which she proceeded to deadlift, clearing it from the ground, 
straightening up, then arching and pulling her shoulders back 
before returning the bar to the ground.

'Daddy's here, sweetheart.'  

The girl brightened at her mother's voice.  'Did you see'  Did you 
see, Daddy'  I lifted it.  I'm going to be as strong as Mommy.  
I'll show you.  Mommy said I get to wrestle with you this weekend.  
She says I'm ready.  I've been practicing with Uncle Greg.'

'Now, I don't know if I want you to start lifting weights.  And I 
sure don't think I should wrestle with my own daughter,'  Bob 
blurted out in astonishment and the familiar flare of anger.  The 
idea of the meathead wrestling with his daughter sickened him.  
What if had tried something with her'  Would Darlene even care'

'Come here Katy.  Oh sure you do, Bob.  Remember when she stayed 
with you a few years ago and had that bed wetting accident.  What 
did Daddy do, dear''

'He was real mad.  He picked me up and shook me and rubbed my nose 
in my pee.'

Darlene stood behind her daughter, who assumed a pose like a super 
heroine: feet apart, fists on hips, budding chest thrust out.  My 
God, he thought.  Her shoulders, her chest, her arms . . .she 
isn't starting to lift weights, Darlene has had her at it for 
years already.  With her breasts just starting to develop and her 
hips to widen, her figure resembled an athletic adolescent boy 
more than a ten year old  girl.

'Wrestling was all right then, wasn't it, Bob.  She was already 
embarrassed and crying, but you had to show her you were boss and 
humiliate her even more.  Greg, dear, would you show Bob our 
girl's new trick''  

'Ready, Princess''  The boy-toy happily stepped forward, set 
himself up, and threw a hard punch into the child's midsection 
while Darlene braced her from behind.  Bob winced at the sound of 
the fist crashing against the young stomach, and was amazed to see 
his daughter firmly braced against the impact and smiling.  
'That's my girl,' Greg told her as he tossled her hair.  'You make 
me so proud.'  

'Bullet proof, aren't you Supergirl'  Show Daddy your muscles.'  
Darlene placed her hands on the girl's shoulders and looked at 
Bob.  Smiling, Katy raised her arms and flexed her biceps while 
flaring her chest and back.  Looking from the four and a half foot 
girl to the powerful woman standing a foot taller, Bob grimaced at 
the resemblances.  The young biceps peaked dramatically.  Katy 
straightened her arms and pumped them once more. 

'Katy, remember what all we talked about.  You can wrestle with 
Daddy as much as you like this weekend.  How about he can't go out 
or drink a martini unless he beats you wrestling'  If you want to 
sit on his face or rub his face in something nasty, you know those 
are his rules.  If he touches you where you know he shouldn't or 
tries to cheat, just like with anyone else it's all right to smash 
his nut-sack.'  Darlene ran her hands lovingly over the tops of 
the knotted young muscles as she looked at her ex-husband.  'Greg 
and I have both worked with her.  Until she's eighteen you're 
going to have a house guest every other weekend with more fighting 
skill than you'll ever have.  And even if she isn't there quite 
yet she'll be physically stronger than you before you know it.  
She'll fight you for the attention she deserves and will win every 
time.  Go get your things, Katy, and wait at the front door.  We 
don't want to keep you two from playing this afternoon as much as 
you want.'  The girl ran out of the room with a cryptic smile as 
she passed Bob.  'She's a good kid who'll repay respect and 
affection, so if you treat her like she deserves she'll just work 
out a few years' resentment and you can start fresh.  I think 
that's more than you deserve, but I got my own fresh start my own 
way.'

Turning to Greg she flashed a side chest pose and again tensed her 
dramatic triceps for his hungry admiration.  'Remember the 
triceps, lover'  I saw in your workout log that you were falling 
behind in a couple areas, so I've made out a training plan to get 
you back up to speed.  I've told you before, fall too far behind 
and I'll drop you.  You lost two out of three so it's your turn to 
worship me.  If you have anything left after that I suggest you 
hit the weights tonight and we'll have dinner at home.  Okay, 
baby. Get on my back while I do some pushups.  And I want to feel 
a real tool stuck right in the crack of my ass.  I'm going to do 
them until I think you're rod's ready for me, and then it's 
handcuff time.  You can feel my muscles for foreplay.  Then it's 
three hours of worshiping rock-hard muscle so I have to be sure 
your chisel is up to the job.'

Bob numbly watched his ex-wife stretch out, supporting herself off 
the floor as her powerful young lover eagerly crawled onto her 
back.  Greg ran his hands up and down the bulging upper arms and 
gave Bob a conspiratorial wink.  'If muscle worship is the 
penalty, nobody really loses, do they, Bob.'

'I'll come by for Katy at six on Sunday.'  Darlene smoothly 
lowered herself to the floor and then pressed herself and Greg 
back up to arms length.  'If you play fair with her, she's going 
to kick your ass for two days to start paying you back for all the 
weekends you just dumped her with a sitter or by herself instead 
of being a real father to her.  If I hear you didn't play fair and 
she hasn't busted your balls for it, just imagine what I'll do to 
you.'  She repeated the movement while Greg made no attempt to 
hide how excited he was becoming at feeling the arms and shoulders 
beneath him pulse with power.  'You set the rules for how a 
husband and wife behaved in our marriage, and you lost.  Your 
parenting rules are just as bad, and Katy is going to make you pay 
for them, too.  Good job, Greg.  Three is all it took to get you 
primed and ready.  Have a good weekend, Bob.  I know we will.'