Strength-Queen Miren vs. Armwrecker Pat By Ric Miren's first pro bout An officer from the Circuit sent us in through the back door. Once in the pavilion a young member of the staff made the way to the women changing room they had booked for us. When we passed in front of the men's we saw through the open door a red haired silhouette bitterly arguing with some of her men. As we passed by she turned her face and spotted us. I identified the rough stare of the ox-woman that had outlasted every opponent in Paul's armwrestling video. She was wearing thick leotards unable to encircle her calves and a tight cotton T- shirt stained by perspiration. I noticed Miren had also met her insane big eyes. She looked worried and strained, perhaps already psyched by one of the most dreadful celebrities in the Circuit. I'd have liked to find some relaxing words but nothing came to my lips. Once in the lockers I asked the young stronggirl to sit on the massage platform and strip off. As I knelt before her to untie her male shirt she took her rough jeans off, nearly brushing my nose with the uncovered upper half of her hairy crotch. She probably used the same pants her mum had bought her when she was ten. But you're a big girl now, I thought, tasting in my mouth a blend of sheer envy and desire. I let her fold her pale arms searching in her back to unfasten the black sport bra and release her hard pressed tits. I oiled my hands and prompted her to lock hers behind my neck. I rubbed her biceps, hitting with my open hands first and digging my fingertips in the massive bulk then, paying attention to the muscle insertions. In few weeks she had gained considerable muscle mass as a response from her gifted genetics to recent start with weight training under Paul's supervision. Her strength was just as immense as always, but her resistance and toughness had markedly improved. In fact her progression had cooled off our relationship. I couldn't give her a balanced fight anymore, and must use my both arms or some other kind of handicapped lock, which didn't excite Miren as much as our first encounters. The Boston events, of which I was only partly aware, had also dulled somewhat her spirit. Still she was undefeated against any rival we could find to "throw" against her all-power little arm. I stressed the point, thinking that would relax the atmosphere, but she realized my intentions and got even more tense, nervously moving her tongue inside her shut mouth. As tame as only a person who knows you can't force her to do anything can be, she lay on her belly for me to work on her stiff deltoids. I can smash an apple inside my hand, but the toughness of strained Miren's muscle packets fall far beyond my power. Tired of the uncomfortable silence I broke in. 'Right girl, this is just what you were wishing. That which you love the most. Real tough people confronted in contests of real bare strength. You're supposed to do well on that matter. It was hard for Corinne to fix for you a bout against such a first class armwrestler. World number three in her weight division. Others had to break their wrists in dirty bars downtown before even dreaming a pro bout with the TV cameras, the official table, the millionaire match fees, the doctors, the cool guys around... It's a privilege. Too late to chick. Too late for butterflies and bed pissing. Just get out there and find who's stronger. I've tested you and know about it. Believe me. You have chance indeed. You don't deserve your natural potential. So be good girl and let my fingers in. She glanced at me from bottom up, biting her lips as the teenager she was, despite her mighty body. The first time I boxed I got my ass kicked so hard I almost give up fighting. I was used to beat the shit out of the street boys, but ruled matches are another story. Every fighter's body is programmed to resist. It's cold blood and mental power that makes the difference. If she went out there that stiff, Pat would put her down so easily that she'd never recover from the humiliation. She relaxed a bit and I could extend her packs of fiber on her rib box as butter. There were some dumbbells on the floor. I took all the weights out and loaded all the big ones on a single bar, and hardly lifting it with my both arms deposited the heavy load on her open hand. She anxiously clenched the bar. The constricted metal whined under her power. She shoot on solid single arm curls making the weights creak against the bar and crash each other. I checked her back not to bend. She made 30 reps and switched to her left hand for another 30. Lioness Corinne came in and circled the girl watching her exertion. Young European stone lifter is just 1:5 down in the odds. That's great for you, we'll get less money on our turn. There's high pressure in the audience. Looks like your media appeal don't make Pat happy. She showed up in a couple of unplanned bouts this very week. Lioness shut and counted the weights Miren was pumping twice to make sure that she got it right, and gulped. You worry her, pretty little ox. She commanded a New Zealand she-hulk and a Caribbean wrestling beauty just to further sharpen her killer instinct after outclass Japanese Hagiwara in her own grounds. After such a long trip any of them took her longer than two min. She pulled so wild you could have fed an electric power plant with the energy she delivered. Miren completed her curls, lifted the weights above her head making her triceps stand out and started with all power arm pushes. Corinne mentally counted the reps of the young strongwoman. Her blood froze when she reach her personal best. Pissed by Miren's silence, Corinne shrugged her nose and left, sweeping most of the air in the room behind her. When she opened the door, the crowd noise poured in, announcing a big event. Miren dropped the weights and shook her legs, making her thighs tremble. She was all pumped. Dress up, we're coming. I said to give her something to do. A roar trespassed the door, Pat had appeared before the excited public. She took off her minute underwear and put on the not much larger spandex V-shaped pant, nailing herself the crotch trying to put as much pubic hair as possible under the tiny fabric. I helped with the white wrestling boots as she stood up and tightened a belt around her left thigh. Corinne has convinced her to wrestle nearly top less. She fitted something that could have been a bikini top consisting mostly of a pair of microscopic leather straps that she naively tried to place covering most of her nipples. The sexual tendency of Pat was well known by the Lioness, and she was sure the curvaceous teenager will take some breath out of her just showing off. Big surprise considering her farm background, Miren hadn't made any attempt to refuse her suggestion. Everything was new for her in the strength world and she took it as part of her exciting new business. Her family and pals, including her boyfriend, will be seeing her at TV, but her aim was to make them proud of their child, and they would admit certain allowances to attain the goal. Pure peasant philosophy. I hugged and lifted her to bring her face next to mine. Now we go out there and you prove to that KKK activist who the tougher woman is. You'll make her weep like a baby. I pressed her hard body and kissed her. I was more scared than her. Pat watched aside how I took Miren's gown off revealing her pumped virtually bare chest. Miren approached the table too early. The more experienced foe made them suffer. Pat walked confidently on the stage wearing a white T-shirt 3 sizes smaller than she need and red shorts stretched by her bulky hips and massive thighs. Basketball trainers provided her some additional inches of leverage. The carrot hair and the pecs gave her a childish face but the frowned forehead added an element of psychotic character, as a teenager tormented by the changes in her body, or a virgin who secretly desires sex. Pat wasn't immensely bulky, but her arms were unreal. She was so pumped her biceps didn't let her elbows approach her torso. When she clenched her fist a set of grooved chords bulged out beating the wildest dream of a hard core body builder. The speaker introduced the wrestlers, Miren first. Corinne prompted her to wave and smile to the public. She could do the first but failed with the last. Pat was announced as 5 ft 6', 176 pd. She had 20 pd. on Miren. Ignoring the master of ceremonies, she didn't move a muscle. People applauded her anyway. She had her regular supporters. Those who appreciated a girl who could take almost anything suffering in silence, to eventually prevail after exhausting her opponent no matter how big he or she were. The ref. called the girls to the table. Miren was already stuck there, forgetting to stretch, obviously nervous. Pat sort of smiled, swinging her head. Her close look confirmed the first bizarre impression. She was nuts. Absolutely. I saw Miren watching her grip rather than her eyes. She completely lack concentration. Despite being slightly bigger Pat's hand was the same size of Miren's. Her arms though were definitely thicker. I could see Miren's face strained every time Pat attempted a foul grip, digging into the young girl's hand flesh as in clay. Miren complained every time, she wasn't definitely on it. She should forget the grip and flex the pecs and shoulders if she didn't want to loose her arm with a quick start from the more experienced rival. Eventually the ref. got fed up of Miren's complains and called for the fight. Ready... Go! With first rush Pat dug more than two inches into Miren's territory. The younger girl strained and stopped the red hair. They seemed to study each other for a short while and then Pat blew a second stroke that put Miren 3/4 down. I would swear I heard Miren's tendons tearing like paper. I realized the red bull's strike. She had fooled us. She guessed we had informed the stone lifter that she was a fighter and made her ready for a long tough pull, so she had switched to pure power. Miren's heart run away, she couldn't concentrate and pour all her strength off. She seemed blocked. With a yell of rage Pat pinned her down surprisingly easy. I claimed hopelessly early start, but the ref. conceded the pull. Pat truly smiled this time, herself perhaps surprised by the easy win, stretching her guns so hard that I felt pain just watching. Lioness Corinne herself coached the beginner, and the French champ was a guarantee of high standards in the strength business. Last time it had been an all-woman armwrestling team leaded by Lioness that stroke the States beating a mixed American selection by an humiliating 12-4. A Normandy school girl and her 50 year old mum had won all their matches. Miren though had just been swept out and now leaned on the table with both elbows, deep breathing. Some spectators whistled and booed her. Pat pushed her away and placed her arms in position. The ref. called Miren to lock up. Miren squatted. I though she was considering to quit. She felt herself outclassed by Pat and her pride prevented her to let it show again. the ref. started a disqualification ten count. Corinne climbed up the platform commanded her to stand up and surrounded her with her arms, talking in her ear. I don't know who's stronger but I do know you can make much better than that. Paul doesn't stop talking about your power. That pisses me, but I know Paul since he was fourteen and outlasted me screwing in my grandma straw house. When I collapsed after all night fucking he claimed his cock was still hard, and to prove it he cracked the wooden handle of a rake on it. He believes in you and he knows everything about strength. Don't chicken. Don't deceive him. Corinne's speech didn't seem to work that much. Seeing how they clenched it was pretty obvious that Pat's grip was firmer and tougher. The second pull started as a replay of the first. The carrot hair muscle lady folded Miren's arm as though she were armwrestling a scarecrow, and in few seconds the young Basque stone lifter was in a desperate position, while Pat, inspired by increased support from the crowd and swollen as a red hydrostatic balloon groaned, blew and struggled to find the definitive leverage to gain the last inch. She was used to resist, but she wasn't that good attacking. As she realized Pat wasn't able to finish her off, Miren gained confidence, twisting and bending Pat's grip into a more efficient lock which allowed her to optimally transmit the immense strength of her biceps into her fingers. Pat's arm was larger, but Miren's hand strength was definitely superior. Pat seemed aware and bent her upper body seeking a quick pin aided by her chest and abs muscles. Keeping her shoulders perfectly square despite her delicate position Miren stared at the ref. inquiring with her eyes. She was fighting fair and absorbing Pat's jerks; that made her more confident. With ice cold eyes, she exerted increased pressure on Pat turning the tide. Pat peeled her lips, showing white shining teeth. Her arm grew thicker and thicker, eventually stopping Miren's progress in a 45 degree advantage for the red hair wrestler. Her biceps was so pumped the T-shirt sleeve rustled ripping off. A deaf haul from her open mouth revealed Miren had increased her power again. Pat grimaced as though her arm had been tore off. Corinne shouted, don't loose, she can take that and much more, go, go! Miren pulled harder, as though her strength reserve were never-ending, but Pat nullified every ounce of her exertion, keeping her moderate advantage. Lioness tale on Paul, his relentless cock and the straw house echoed inside the mind of the young strong-girl, fueling continuous increases in her colossal exertion. At last Pat's arm creaked and started to yield. Miren smiled, forcing her back to tie. Pat smiled back taking a breath. Miren realized she was fouling her, in fact she was keeping a power reserve and her stamina was pretty intact. Immediately she accused the blow. Pat took advantage, launching a renewed blow that completely overpowered Miren. The ref. squatted watching Miren's pad. The Basque girl shut her eyes commanding her arm to lift. It didn't obey, pinned by the larger sweaty arm from Pat, who skillfully twisted her wrist locking her unbreakable pin. Miren still resisted a few seconds, using her biceps till the muscle insertions burnt so painfully she didn't know anymore whether she was exerting strength or not. When the ref. tapped her shoulder she knew Pat had beat her again. She felt an immense fatigue. Leaning across the table Pat feint a head butt, roaring as a dinosaur. Her face was burning-red, as made of glowing iron. Her blood-injected eyes spit fire. As young Miren turned around we saw tears slipping out her almond-shape eyes. Strength Queen was crying. Corinne made use of her time out. I placed Miren's wrist on my shoulder and sought her muscle insertions with my fingertips, relieving part of its stiffness. Pat didn't let her assistants break in. Rather she stood next to the table, self stretching her colossal guns. The crowd started to chant her name. She didn't let it show but she was delighted. I can't stand her, sobbed little Miren. She's a horse. I can't match her brute force. Listen, said Corinne. I don't mind to loose my money but I do appreciate my time a lot. If she got a three nil win I don't want to see you messing around Paul's gym anymore. Look for another sponsor. I don't like chickens. I trust Paul and he says you are a strength monster. But that's not enough in this business. You need to defeat your rival before locking up. the only tolerable doubt is how long will take you to put them down. Otherwise, you have no future in pro armwrestling. You know, Paul tell me how often he shits, he tell me everything. I know he has screwed you in Boston. I do not mind. I do mind something else. She placed a hand on my arm stopping my massage. She's in love with you like a stupid school boy. That's why he didn't come. He was too nervous. Look there, she said pointing at a camera. He's sat behind that watching you and biting his nails. Is that shit the best you can offer him? The ref. called Miren back to the table. Corinne released her. The wrestlers locked up with a noisy slap, blowing determination through their expanded nostrils. The ref. struggled to move their solidified elbows into the right place on the cousins. He gave up and shout to begin. Apparently nothing happened. Actually both arms were dissipating as heat enough power to run a truck. The breathing pace of both strongwomen dominated the atmosphere. Pat's wasn't steady, but cut with deep grunts, intended to encourage herself in the raw exertion. As time passed Pat's torso started yielding and shifting away from square position, her right shoulder called in help of an arm increasingly tired. Miren in turn delivered her power from a picture standing, big shoulders perfectly square, closer than usual due to the colossal contraction of her chest muscles, which squeezed her breasts together. Suddenly the younger girl seemed to lose concentration. She turned her face up to the camera. Only the humongous thickness of her neck muscles betrayed the pressure she was delivering. Pat's fingers crunched inside Miren's mill-hand. The gore noise spread through the hold pavilion fair and strong, priming disgusting grimaces in the sensitive sectors of the audience. Pat's mouth grew cavern-size but nothing went out from the black hole. As much delayed as the thunder from a distant lightning, the yell from the red-haired she-hulk shook the pavilion structure, jackhammering Miren's eardrums. Pulling from the smashed purple stained fingertips Strength- Queen drove Pam's arm down at slow-motion. Despite her mangled hand Pat's stretched arm desperately fought bent in an impossible position. Her left booby comically jolted, bite by some uncontrollable nervous shortcut. God, she was tough, Miren thought against her will, aware of the dangers of pity and unexpected rallies in the red-haired champion of the endurance. Her hand though appeared too badly damaged. The thick forearm veins shone and creep like electric circuits in a house fire. Miren stared at her ultra-powerfully built rival withering in pain, tied to her master hand. The picture prompted a surge of power from the deepest core of her body and irradiating to the periphery tickling through her velvet skin. And Paul was watching it all. Her vulva blossomed up leaking. She challenged her rival. Pat's half shut eyes poured down poison. She dribbled and grunted something unintelligible, or perhaps the pain was interfering her speech ability. Keep going keep going, cried Corinne from her corner. Don't trust. The girl did not at all, but couldn't help a sort of shiver before her own display of power and the display of endurance from her rival. She had learnt how strong she was herself, and how hard could be stop her once she had gained such a clear leverage edge. Besides Pat's arm defied the stretching ability of a contortionist and her hand, engulfed by the stone-crusher, didn't merit that name anymore. She relaxed a bit. There was no way Pat could exploit to recover from that slaughter. She'd rather submit or make ready to loose her limb. Miren turned back looking for Corinne's advice. The French stronggirl nodded with her fists clenched. She couldn't conceive anybody taking that punishment much longer. Not even armwrecker Pat. Pat's fingertips slightly shook as suffocated violet worms. Useless. Miren didn't relieve the huge pressure. Pat cooled down, her head bent downwards, deeply panting. Suddenly all Miren knew was Pat had quaked as a deadly hurt beast and with a single monster thrust had wrenched her arm completely turning the tide and getting a winning position. Pat's hand still looked disabled but she had altogether fully bent her wrist and used her forearm strength to push Miren downwards with unbelievably regained power. Corinne shouted and insulted in a rage stroke. Mad Pat grinned. Satan couldn't do it better. In fact Satan himself wouldn't have much chance pitted face to face against any of those strength freaks. Miren did it again. Pat's fingers, or the remains of them, creep like water on a fry-pan. That was too much, even for mighty armwrecker. She faltered and yielded. Miren brought her grip to boil again slowly. Inspecting the changing grimaces in Pat's facial mask. Her arm got loose but Miren didn't thump it down already. She rather concentrated in squeezing further. Big Pat verbally submitted to the power teen. Perhaps too late. As the doctor arrived to inspect Pat's hand a wave of excitement stroke the punters. her hand looked too damaged to continue. she might give up. a 16 y o girl might become std. weight pro armwrestler number 3 in the world. Corinne and I jumped to stage and hugged Miren, anxiously awaiting the medical decision. Pat grunted and weep, as the doctor explored her shattered bones. Her assistants caressed Pat's shoulders trying to convince her to give up. They acted as a team of tiger tamers. I had never seen Pat in such a suffering condition. not even after her defeat facing world champion Deb. She couldn't close her fingers and she had lost 90% of her grip ability. Besides her wrist was swollen and green stains run down her forearm. In tears, she gave up. We three hopped as crazy, ignoring the ref. It was me and Corinne who finally released the young armwrestling fiend and lifted her swollen arms. Frantically, we tossed her so hard her big boobs jolted free, escaping the overfilled tiny top. She didn't even realize.