Young Miren gets into armwrestling by Ric Still a teenager, Miren finds out her strength armwrestling a shot-putter Introduction This is the first tale of a series dedicated to a very unique human being, a person endowed with a mighty power both in mind and body. This person lives in the next future, in a world where the strong ones are beloved and the weak ones are just erased. A world ruled by raw competition and economic supremacy, where human feelings are for trade. This mighty character take it all like it is, the tougher the better, fed by the pain and the sufferance. She is Miren, the Strength Queen, feared professional armwrestling freak, insatiable sex competitor, insanely powerful strength athlete. But in the beginning there was a farming girl... It was custom, and custom was still sacred in that ancient country of Southern Europe. The rugby match third time finished in the local pub armwrestling and drinking beer. That week one thing has changed, the visitors were a female rugby team. The women, chosen among strength demanding sports all along Europe, had poor rugby technique but stunning physical condition, and had beat the local team with an spectacular and bitter 30-26. After shower, both teams chose as usual three drinking contestants and three armwrestlers each, but they all got drunk and losers paid it all. The boys outdrank the girls two-one, but got stunned when the female captain, a former German shot-putting junior champ called Fridda, smashed the best guy's arm onto the wooden table. The second girl was a fat 6 ft 3 prop with her hair caught in a ponytail on the top of her head. She was an Olympic weight lifter. The boy who was scheduled to wrestle second, a bulky blonde, uncomfortably sit down in front of her. He complained her grip. Miren's boyfriend, who was playing ref, attended his complains. The girls, all massed together backing her champ, booed him and put his manhood into serious doubt. The fat girl, yelling like a mouse, bent the hunk's arm in the fraction of a second. She had thought time to start sweating as received the warm congratulation from her mates. The last puller was Miren's boyfriend. He rolled up his right sleeve just above his beautifully round baseball size biceps and locked with the red-haired scrum-half. She wasn't at all the larger in the team, but her hands were bigger than his and her fingers were thick as muscled sausages. She was a free-climber in Ireland. The girl prevailed in the initial thrust, but Miren's boyfriend was a fighter and stopped her move and started turning the tide, straining to the border of heart attack. The devil red-haired doubled her exertion and froze his attack without much apparent strain. Miren's boyfriend seemed approaching explosion, like in a gore sci-fi film. She gracefully drove her mane out of her face with her free left hand. 'Give up, block, you're gonna burst', said the red-haired, who's grip was so tough that each of her huge muscled fingers dug into the boys hand leaving a white bloodless shadow. The girls mocked and tapped their champ muscle-padded shoulder in confidence. Miren arose from the group and placed next to her boy, caressing his frowned forehead with her fingertips. 'Go Jul, give her a good fight, you can beat that lass'. Her soft relaxed voice whispered into his ear worked like a medicine. She combed his boyfriend's fringe back with her fingers, circled his tensed neck and kissed him. One of the rugby girls addressed to Miren a bad- blooded stare. 'Hey, sweety, get off before you get your pretty face hurt. This is none of your business'. Miren ignored her and run her nails down her boyfriend spine. He had now an edge on the red-hair she- hunk who twisted her mouth leftwards blowing like a truck exhaustion. The boys cheered up his wrestler and encouraged Miren to go ahead with her caresses. Jul's strength seemed to renew, swelling each of his arm muscles. The red-haired battled out her best, increasingly strained, till she gave her arm painfully thump the wooden surface. The boys went wild, but the competition was tied. They started an argument. The girls wanted her first puller to untie but no boy wanted to pit against the German shot-putter and rather suggested to design a new puller. Things went messy and then a relaxed voice spoke. They all shut and covered the speaker with inquiring glances. It was 16 year old 5 ft 5 160 pd Miren who had said, 'I'll armwrestle the "Deutsche" '. Some of the boys tore off their hair, and made ready to pay the orgy, expecting a total beating-up. She doesn't belong to the team' argued some of the more pessimistic boys. The captain took Miren's boyfriend apart. 'How strong is she?' 'No idea. I've never armwrestled her or whatever. She doesn't play any sport, but her mum has registered her in the next stone lifting contest.' Meanwhile the German shot-putter had replaced the Irish climber in the table and rolled her huge arm. 'The boy's cap talked to Miren. 'All right sugar, if you want fun, paying some beers won't ruin the team. Go ahead and look after that delicate lady'. The German didn't appreciate the remark. Hammered the thick wooden table with her open hand, pouring all glasses, and stuck her elbow piercing Miren with her rat-like blue eyes, the only little part of her body. Miren sat facing her, took her time to feel comfortable, grabbed the table edge with her left and took a grip on the German's thumb. The much bigger girl shrunk her piggy nose, surprised by Miren's grip toughness. 'OK mates, cameras ready this won't last' -she said, her neck and shoulder fat rolls jolting with the muscular contraction of her upper body. The boy's cap checked the grip and shouted, go! The German hunk jerked, but the young brown hair girl, wearing a tight short-sleeve round-neck top easily controlled her rival's initial thrust. Both girls looked relaxed and testing each-other. 'That's great, you're far stronger that you look like, this is getting good fun'. The German progressively increased her pressure, and each time Miren thought her opponent had reached her top, the German doubled her exertion again as though her power had no limit. After two minutes of continuous pressure increase Miren's head felt forward. Her eyes shrunk and she opened her mouth but no air came in due to the hard contraction of her rib-box muscles. The big blonde still looked relatively fresh, though her voice wasn't that steady anymore. 'You're Damn' tough dwarf, where do you take so much strength from?' She continued increasing pressure on Miren's strained arm. The teenager's biceps had popped out from the silky skin and grew larger and larger, stretching the sleeve of the white top. She was still able to over-rule the German's ever growing pressure, but she had serious trouble to breath, her heart pumped wildly and her lungs were burning painfully. She was getting dizzy, and she felt two needles stinging her ear-bones. The boys, surprised by the power and endurance of their champion, abandoned her pessimism and started cheering Miren up vividly. The girls made the same with their wrestler, the Irish girl in particular slammed the table next to Fridda trying to keep her pulling harder and harder. Two minutes latter the German shot-putter had started to sweat like a fountain. Her hand was slippy and she smelled like a pig farm. Her pressure increase was over. Miren lifted up her head. She looked now less strained than her rival. Her biceps continued growing larger and her swollen breasts, perfectly round and well separated, showed out the round cleavage shining with thin perspiration. She had managed to pace her breath and partially relief the pain in her lungs. She had started the match without any warming up and only now her physiological machine started to work. By first time she took the initiative, launching a hard all power thrust that made the big German's arm tremble. The boys exploded in loud cries of enthusiasm. Many regulars had come attracted by the hassle and the wrestling girls were now circled by some half hundred cheering people. The big German's face looked now very sick. The huge-handed Irish free-climber was one of the few girls who still supported Fridda. Miren had a look around seeing all the excited red faces shouting to her, encouraging, celebrating her physical attributes, insulting her or declaring their mad eternal love to her. She absorbed all that power. Her sleeve burst to shreds. She further tensed the muscle cords of her forearm overpowering the German's wrist and twisting her fatty wet hand backwards. Blowing hard through her tiny nostrils the young stronggirl slammed the shot-putter's knuckles painfully against the oak wood table. The boy's team cap took Miren's wrist, pulled her up to her feet and lifted her swollen arm to the crowd. Miren's thighs trembled, stirred by a huge orgasm.