Katie's Muscles by Alpesco A new girl at the pool. Katie did a steady handstand on the edge of the stage.The fourteen-year-old was five feet eight tall. Her body was slim, with long arms and longer legs. Yet her legs, and even more her arms, were not spindly, but lean and athletic. She had a delicate face and long brown hair. Today she was just showing off while waiting for the swimming sessions to begin. I watched her hold the handstand for over a minute, her long arms rock steady and ramrod-straight as she spread her legs wide, holding them parallel to the floor in a V shape. Then, slowly, she arched her body, to hold it at 45 degrees. That was a move that took a lot of strength, but she held the position without a wobble, before pulling back to a vertical handstand once more. "That's cool, Katie!" someone said. "Watch this," she said, and began to bend her arms, lowering her upright body steadily toward the stage, her feet pointing into the air. There were whistles of appreciation as she stopped her body, with her chin a half inch above the floor, and held herself there for a moment. Then the muscles hardened along the backs of her arms as they pushed her slowly back up again. She piked her body, lowered her feet to the floor and stood up. There were some scattered claps as she raised her long arms on either side of her, and then flexed them. She was a good-looking fourteen-year-old, but her arms were surprisingly well-developed. Besides being very long, they were heavy, and carried visible muscles from years of gymnastics training. When she flexed, long chunky biceps rose along her arms, swelling and hardening in stark contrast with her slender body. "Hey, this is the swim class," someone said. "Not muscle beach!" Katie wrinkled her nose and did a handstand somersault off the stage, before calmly walking up the steps to my office. A moment later and she was at the door. "Hi Mr Trent," she said. "Hi Katie, what do you want?" I knew that Katie had just joined the swim team. The 14-year-olds had been on early practice, doing laps in the pool, but by now most of them had gone home. "It's late," I said. Katie was still in her one-piece swimsuit, but had taken off her cap. Her long brown hair was still damp, and cascaded to her shoulders. She stood two inches shorter than me, at about five foot eight tall. "I know," she said. "I just wanted to talk to you about the team on Friday." "That's all decided," I said. "You've only just joined us. You're not ready for the first team yet." "My times are okay, and I've beaten most of the girls on the team in practice." "We'll see. But you'll have to prove you're strong enough for top class competition..." "Oh. I'm plenty strong," She flexed her arms and grinned. The swimsuit left her arms and shoulders bare. They were extraordinary. I'd seen a lot of toned girls, but Katie's arms were amazing. They seemed almost too big for her, with broad shoulders that dwarfed her waist, and long arms filled with muscle. As she flexed, these huge, rounded biceps rose in her upper arms. I gasped. They were outstanding. They took up the whole length of her upper arms, and swelled and swelled as she continued to tense them. Each bicep was bigger than the can of coke that someone had left on my desk. "How do you like these muscles?" she said proudly. "They give me my speed." Marge, one of our top swimmers, was passing. She was 17 and six feet tall. Katie turned to her, urging her to stretch out her arms for a comparison. "My arms are already as long as Marge's," she said. I was surprised to see that it was true. Although the fourteen-year-old was four inches shorter, her arms stretched as wide as the seventeen-year-old's. "Now let's flex," Katie said. Both girls made a bicep, and to my surprise, Katie's bicep towered up a full inch higher than the taller girl's. "Wow!" Marge said, surprised to find that she was the girl with the smaller arm. "How d'you get that?" "Just natural, I guess," Katie said with a grin, "plus workouts, gymnastics, some boxing and wrestling." She suddenly bent and just hefted the older girl up into her arms, carrying her easily. She just held the six-foot girl in her grip - and Marge couldn't move! It looked so easy with those big arms of hers. After spinning around with her twice, Katie set her back on her feet. "Does that prove I'm strong enough, Mr Trent?" she asked. "I'm not sure.." I began. That was when the kid stepped forward, bent, and just lifted me up in a cradle. I was amazed. I'm nearly 200 pounds in weight. I couldn't believe this little girl was carrying me! "I've always been strong," she said "ever since I was a small kid. Specially my arms." She carried me out on to the balcony above the training pool. "I could drop you right in." She giggled. "Don't you dare!" I struggled, but couldn't get free. "I like my big arms," she said as she put me down, "so I'm always trying to get them stronger." "Oh...." I didn't know what to say. This kid was certainly strong. "I'll think about it." I said at last. "Keep coming to practice. And get back to me later in the week." When I came in the next day, Katie was already at the poolside, having fun with one of the visiting male swimmers. I recognised him as Stimson, a backstroker. At seventeen, he was six feet tall and towered over her. Katie flexed her right arm for him. I couldn't help but watch. The muscle was huge for a girl of her size, I could see he was surprised. "Try and move it" she ordered, as she held her forearm up in front of him. He tried, grasping her clenched fist with one hand, and pushing. But nothing happened. The big muscle in Katie's upper arm just grew firmer, harder and slightly larger. Everyone around the pool was watching now as the tall seventeen-year-old struggled desperately to move the fourteen-year-old girl's arm. But he couldn't do it. People were starting to laugh. Katie grinned. "You see how I'm real strong?" she said. Suddenly Katie moved her big arm sideways, and toppled him into the pool. He fell in with a huge splash. His red face appeared out of the water, coughing and spluttering. There was more laughter. He pulled himself out of the pool, furious. Climbing to his feet, he lunged at her. Katie ducked, and caught him in the midriff with her left shoulder. He gave an "ouff" as he was brought to a halt. Then Katie straightened, taking him right up off the floor, draped over her left shoulder! He gave a wail of surprise as Katie turned round with him, flexed her right arm and grinned. There was clapping and cheering from all round the pool. "Put me down!" the 17 year-old roared angrily. Katie held him for a few more moments, then lowered him back to his feet and stood back. "You want to be careful who you mess with." she said as laughs rang round the pool. I could see that Stimson was furious now. I was about to intervene when he made a sudden grab for Katie. The fouteen-year-old darted a step backward, out of his reach, then lanced her right arm forward, into his stomach. The blow was so fast I barely saw it, but I heard a solid smack as she darted backward. To my surprise, the tall six-footer gave a loud groan and doubled over! Katie halted, six feet from him, and grinned. The people round the pool watched in stunned silence as the seventeen-year-old took a surprisingly long time to recover, his breath coming in deep gasps. Katie could certainly hit hard, His face was red and he seemed to be hurting quite bad, but everyone thought he was a wuss to be doubled up. "What's going on here?" A solidly built man a little taller than Katie strode out on to the poolside. "Oh, hi dad!" Katie turned to him. "No problem. We were just having a bit of fun. I want you to meet Mr Trent, the coach." She steered her dad up toward where I was standing. "Hi, Mr Trent," Katie's father shook me by the hand. "Good to see you.." I noticed that Stimson had straightened himself up now, and was coming straight toward us, looking mad. Katie saw my reaction and turned, just in time to grab the taller boy's left arm and twist it up behind his back. He cried out in pain. His free right hand reached out and grabbed a mop that had been leaning against the wall. He struck out with it. At once the fourteen-year-old released Stimson's arm, grabbed the handle, and twisted the mop out of his hand. Taking two steps back, she wrapped her forearms round the long handle, and tensed her arms. I saw the muscle ripple and harden along her arms and shoulders. Then there was a dark, cracking sound from the wood as thick lat muscles flared under her arms. Then, with a sudden loud crack, the wooden handle just snapped in two, breaking into two jagged halves! Katie then took each half, put them alongside each other, and snapped them in two again, letting the four pieces of the mop handle fall to the floor. Once again, everyone around the pool cheered. "You bitch" Stimson roared, lurching toward us. Her father made to intervene. "No." Katie held up a hand. "Let me, dad." She stepped foreward, avoiding his attempted blow, and delivered a crisp right and left to his face and body. Pow. POW! The startled seventeen-year-old rocked backward, bleeding. "Don't hurt him too bad, Katie." Mr Harker said. "I won't. Just three more.." "Two." "Okay, two." Katie wrinkled her nose, squinting as she decided where to strike. . Pow! The first blow went in surprisingly hard, to the side of the seventeen-year-old's head. Her opponent groaned, reeling to one side and looking disorientated. He was bruised and bleeding. "That could be enough, Katie," Mr Harker frowned. "He looks pretty badly hurt now." "You allowed me two, dad." Katie turned slightly away. Then her long right arm sped upward and across, as she ripped an enormous uppercut to Stimson using that huge bicep of hers. The six-footer groaned as the powerful blow drove into the base of his jaw. His head slammed backward to hit the concrete wall with great force. He groaned again and slumped unconscious to the floor. "Well done, Katie," her father smiled. "Good strike!" "She knocked him out!" I gasped. "Yes," her father nodded. "You've got to watch out for Katie's uppercut. That's one powerful punch. It can take just about anybody out." "It's my best punch," Katie grinned as she flexed the big bicep that had just totalled the six-footer. It was easily half the size of her face. "Though I don't get to use that punch a lot 'cause it does way too much damage. It put the boy down the street in hospital for four weeks. His jaw was broken in five places." "And that was a year ago," her dad said. "She's gotten a bit stronger since then. Katie's always been a real strong kid, and she loves working out." "What about Stimson?" I looked down at the unconscious figure. "He should stay out a while," Mr Harker said, bending to examine the slumped figure. "Better get someone from First Aid to look at him though." "So, do you agree I'm strong enough to be in the first team, Mr Trent? She gave a smile.