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Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 01

By: KatieTay



[This story is set in the universe of the game Fallout 2. Any locations, NPCs and other in-game concepts are all the intellectual property of the original creators. No infringement is intended. If you don't like the idea of "tampering" with the game lore, don't read.]

[This story has a muscular female protagonist who likes it rough, and has some very specialized kinks. If this kind of stuff is not to your liking, don't read.]

[I like muscles. I especially like women with muscles. If you don't like that, don't read.] 

*

So this was Broken Hills... the place certainly fit the name, Jenny mused. The most prominent feature that she could see from where she stood was the reactor. The second thing a traveler like her would notice was probably the fact that almost every house had lighting. Dusk was descending, but already there were dozens of windows showing the steady, unwavering glow of electric lighting, as opposed to the flickering effect produced by gas lamps or wood fires.

Jenny had been following a caravan from New Reno for the last couple of weeks. The route went like this: east to Broken Hills to drop off food and medical supplies, and pick up uranium slugs -- north to Vault City to offload the slugs and pick up light arms -- then resupplying and heading straight back to New Reno. Jenny had never been this far east before. She was curious about Vault City and she wanted to see for herself how people lived when all they knew about life was what they had seen on old tapes from long before.

"Alright, we make camp in the town tonight. Three days from now, we leave again at first light," the caravan master said, addressing Jenny and the other hired caravan guards. "If you're not with us by then, you make your own arrangements. The next installment of your pay is at the gate of Vault City."

The guards began to wander off in the general direction of the town, and Jenny followed. They'd lost a couple during a raid on the way from New Reno. Jenny had taken down one of them herself -- a lean but malnourished girl with a mohawk, a knife and a bad attitude. She was wearing that girl's leather jacket now, after her own leathers had been sliced to pieces in that raider girl's ferocious assault. The knife was also strapped to her belt. In the wasteland, you wasted nothing.

She started towards the well she could see in the town square, thinking of filling up her canteens. At this hour, not many locals were about, but there was a figure lounging about at the well. As Jenny got nearer she could see he was short and spry, and he seemed preoccupied with looking down the well as if he had lost something in there.

He looked up at her approach, and did a double-take. "Coo-ee!" he exclaimed. "We definitely don't see your type coming around here very often!"

"I'm sure you get all sorts round these parts," Jenny said, rolling her eyes slightly. She got the same reaction everywhere she went. It was tiresome, really.

"Well, that is correct, we certainly do. And may I say, this humble town is greatly enriched by your visitation," the small man said, looking her up and down appreciatively. He held out his hand. "The name's Micky, suave and debonair Treasure Hunter of Broken Hills." The way he said it, Jenny could hear the capital letters in the title.

"There's treasure around here?" she asked, taking the hand politely and giving him a firm handshake.

There was a pregnant pause. Then Micky disengaged his hand gingerly, and shook it as discreetly as he could. "One of these days I shall have to fill you in on all the gory details about my many pernicious plunderings," he offered. "My word... you do have quite the grip..."

"Oh... sorry." Jenny didn't always remember not to squeeze so hard. "I'm just here to get some water. Is this well working?"

"Oh... yes, do go ahead," Micky gestured vaguely. "Though if you're feeling a thirst, and you have some cash to spare, you could also try Phil's. Just over there, two buildings down in that direction. You might even find one of the regulars interesting... yes indeed..."

"Oh?"

"Well, it depends, I guess. Why don't you go ahead and check out the place? Phil would be very glad for your patronage. And... look for this super mutant named Francis. He'd be the one you're looking for," Micky said with a knowing nod.

"Superm-" Jenny managed to check herself. Of course, she'd been hearing about it on the way here. Broken Hills was home to humans, ghouls and super mutants alike, living in relative harmony. She shouldn't be surprised, after all. But who was this Francis and why did this "Treasure Hunter" think she'd be interested in meeting him?

Her curiosity was piqued, and she was nothing if not curious. Bidding Micky a polite goodbye, she walked off in the direction of the building he mentioned. 

When she entered, she saw a ghoul wearing an apron.

"Howdy, stranger. Welcome to town. What's your name?"

She'd met a few ghouls before, so she didn't balk at his appearance. Clearly, he was the bartender.

"Name's Jenny, from New Reno. You must be Phil."

"That I am," Phil agreed amiably. "Pleased to meet you. What'll it be? A Nuka-Cola? A beer? Or do you feel like some rotgut?"

"Just a beer," Jenny replied. "Cold one."

"Ain't any other kind," Phil chortled as he turned to the fridge behind him. "Yes ma'am, we get the power running all day long here in this town, and we got working fridges. Here's a nice chill one for ya. That'll be three dollars, plus a dollar tip for me, kiddo. That's four dollars. Say, you got any mutant blood in you?" he asked.

Jenny flushed. "First of all, that's scientifically impossible, since they're all sterile, and secondly, I don't have... funny... skin." Her voice trailed off, and she wondered if her host would be offended by that.

He was not. "Just a joke, lass, don't take it hard," he chuckled, putting the frothing -- frothing! -- beer in front of her. "You're as big as they come, these days. I've never seen a gal your kind, friend. Maybe it's all for the good, we all have to make use of what we have going for us. You one of them caravan guards?"

Jenny sighed. She wasn't that tall or imposing -- just a sturdy five-eight. It was her build that always drew the remarks -- broad shoulders, a tapering V-shaped torso, thick thighs, and a sheath of firm, hard muscle around her trunk. Right now, some abdominal muscle was visible beneath the black leather jacket she was wearing. There was nothing underneath -- she had to go buy a few shirts or something soon.

"Yeah," she replied, taking a gulp of the beer. It was pleasantly cool and refreshing. "I ran into this guy, name of Micky, on my way in. Said something about how I ought to meet this super mutant called Francis. Who's he?"

Phil laughed. "That Micky sure has a mean mind. He was just pranking you. No offense, but I don't think you got anything on our Francis. You do look pretty burly for a gal, but well... he's taken down bigger guys than you, and he hasn't been beaten yet."

"So he's a fighter? Some kind of brawler?" Jenny said, narrowing her eyes. She knew that type.

But she was surprised. "No, no," Phil explained, holding up his hands. "Nothing like that. He... look, there he is, he's coming in right now. That's him. Why don't you go over and introduce yourself, and he'll tell you all about it."

The big creature lumbering in, stooping slightly to avoid knocking his head on the doorway, sent a momentary chill of remembered fear down Jenny's spine, but she shook that sensation away mentally. Francis was big, greenish-grey, wearing black leather as well, and powerfully-built even for a super-mutant. He went to a corner table and sat himself down, seemingly preoccupied and not paying attention to anyone else in the bar. Jenny looked again -- sticking out of a satchel around his waist was something that looked like a gauntlet.

Jenny's pulse quickened. That was a Power Fist! She wondered if she would be able to barter for it. That must have been what Micky was referring to -- the fact that someone like her could obviously make good use of a Power Fist in her line of work, and for some reason perhaps this Francis had no use for it.

She took her mug and went over to the table. As she did, she felt the buzz of conversation die down a little, and she sensed all eyes turning to her. Francis looked up, boredom writ large across his ugly misshapen face.

"Yeah? Help you out with something?" That was promising. No hostility, just a general offer of possible aid to a stranger. Jenny quelled her misgivings. This was Broken Hills, not... that other place.

"Hi, are you Francis?" she asked, deciding to be straightforward about it.

"Yep. I'm Francis. I'm the arm wrestling champ of the town. I've got a running bet that no one can beat me."

Oh? That was interesting. Jenny wondered about his pugilistic skills. When it came to boxing, Jenny felt confident of knocking over anyone or anything short of a Deathclaw.

"That good, huh?"

"Yep. Take a seat. What's your name?"

"I'm Jenny, from New Reno."

"You passing through, on one of those caravans?"

"Yes. What do you do around here?"

"Well, not much. There's the saloon, the mines, the refinery, the caravan. We don't get much time for fun around here, and what time we do get, we devote to drinking. Also, we work on human-mutant relations." There was a slight curl to his lips as he said that last line.

"Sounds exciting," Jenny replied. "But what specifically do you do?"

"Like I said, I'm the arm wrestling champ of the town. And looks like there's no one in this whole godforsaken wasteland who'll take me up on my bet, either."

"What's your bet?"

"See this here?" Francis shifted so that he could point at the Power Fist. Jenny felt her gaze drawn to it. "It's simple. Whoever beats me, gets this Power Fist. Not like I use it. Whoever loses to me gets to be my gimp for a night."

Jenny blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I take on all comers. I've made a lot of gimps in this town, let me tell you. People don't walk right after a night spent as my gimp," Francis belly-laughed.

So that was his deal... Jenny took mental stock of her inventory, and she realized she probably didn't have enough to offer for a straight out barter. But that Power Fist... with an augmentation like that, and her boxing skills, she'd be a devastating force in battle. That meant better-paying work, not to mention higher chances of survival.

"Alright," she heard herself say. "I'm in."

There was a hush. Francis stared. Then he shook his head and laughed. "Sorry, gal, it'd just be a waste of my time. Bigger and better men than you have tried, and they all got gimped. I mean, I don't really care if it's a man or woman, long as I have a hole to stick it in and the whole dominance thing to get it going, but no woman's ever challenged me. You're maybe the biggest looking broad I've seen, but there's no way you could even put up a fight."

Jenny stood up. As they watched, she stripped off her leather jacket and tossed it onto the back of the chair. There was a collective intake of breath. Locking gazes with Francis, Jenny raised her arms and posed, flexing her muscles, turning her torso slightly sideways for maximum effect.

She had a healthy looking bosom, a sign of good nutrition which could only have come from success in her chosen line of work. Her body fat percentage was high compared to almost any other woman in that day and age, giving her a thickly curvy physique. The lines of her muscles were still clear to see all over her body, however, and her biceps peaked when she curled her arms in. Her short red hair fell to her chin, leaving her bulging traps exposed and visible. Her breasts were not large, perhaps a bit more than a handful if she cupped them, but they perched proudly on her slabs of pectoral muscle underneath. All in all, she knew she was a very strong-looking woman.

"Come on, Francis, you afraid to take on a woman? I don't have time to waste with snitty remarks and cowards. If I win, I get that fist. If you win, I'm your gimp for the night, same as the rest of the others. Do we have a deal or not?"

Francis stood up. He towered over her by more than a head. He took off his leather jacket as well, and shrugged his shoulders, limbering his limbs a few times. There was a glint in his eyes as he said, "You're a pretty piece of meat alright. Don't get many like you these days. Maybe you'll be a bit more interesting than a typical woman... I'm sure you'll be able to take what I dish out after you lose."

The other bar flies were talking excitedly. None could take their eyes off Jenny. Jenny smiled to herself. She had risen in the streets of New Reno without becoming a Jet whore or any other kind of whore, largely because she had trained her fists to be powerful weapons. She had become a prize-fighting boxer in the Jungle Gym, with an impressive record. She knew she cut an impressive figure now, clad only in her leather pants and boots. 

"I'll give them a show they won't forget," she thought to herself. She felt a thrill run through her -- she had never taken on a super mutant in a direct contest of strength like this before, but arm wrestling was a matter of skill as much as strength, and she had actually done a fair bit of it against plenty of strong men. She knew some tricks -- the top roll, the hook, how to lean in and use her shoulders.

Besides, the risk-reward ratio was good. If she won, that sweet Power Fist was hers, and her punching would become the stuff of legend. If she lost... well, there was no risk of pregnancy with the sterility of super mutants, and besides, the truth was that she was feeling long overdue for some kinky fun. 

Part of her actually was imagining what it would be like to lose to this grotesque caricature of masculine potency, and she was in fact getting a bit wet at the thought. She leaned towards other women -- but her main way of getting off was actually winning bouts in the ring against cocky males. Against the odds, and in spite of the constant disparaging from the gym's midget manager Stuart Little, "Jolting Jenny" had risen steadily in the lists, beating a total of six other fighters to date. 

She had two losses on her record -- one of them was another woman, a huge hulking ogress, and the other was to the infamous Mike "The Masticator". She had narrowly avoided having her ear chewed off by the latter, and the former had provided her with a very memorable night afterwards; Pounding Patty had used a strap-on on her. But it wasn't the same as the real article, presumably. Jenny got no particular rise out of taking in a man's cock -- particularly a man who could not beat her -- but she had wondered sometimes if she would meet a man strong enough and potent enough to give her both the beating and the fucking of her life.

Francis, if he won, would overwhelm her. Strong as she was, she would be completely outmatched. Jenny imagined being filled up by his hard throbbing rod -- and she flushed, her pulse quickening. Time for that later -- she had to focus, win the match, get the fist. Then, afterwards, she might offer Francis his consolation prize.

The super mutants, whichever origin they claimed, were surpassingly powerful. Their strength and endurance were far beyond what any human could attain without being augmented by implants of some kind, or simply old-style power armor. And then there was always Buffout... but Jenny had always prided herself on never needing that to punch out big guys.

She would have to try using explosive strength coupled with grip technique. Once his arm went down below a certain angle she could hold him there indefinitely and crank up the pressure, forcing him down for the win. She flexed her fingers in anticipation as she followed Francis to the center of the room.

Francis cast his eyes about, contemplating the bar-top counter briefly.

"Too high for you," he grunted. "Won't want you crying about how I used my height advantage or something."

"Bar counter's fine," Jenny replied, though she would have to raise her arm up slightly higher than she was used to.

"Nah. Down here," Francis said, gesturing to an unoccupied table. He sat himself in the chair opposite. Jenny sat down across from him, feeling her nipples stiffen with anticipation. They began limbering up their arms and shoulders. Jenny's eyes were drawn to the interplay of the muscle fibers underneath Francis's greenish-grey mottled skin. He was gross. Exaggerated. He was symbolic of everything Jenny wanted to beat -- or be beaten by.

"Don't you be breaking that table now," Phil called out from where he stood. He was leaning forward watching interestedly. Everyone else had crowded around, some pulling up chairs. Someone tried to start up a betting pool, but to Jenny's dismay it quickly petered out, as it swiftly became clear that not a single one was prepared to bet on Jenny winning.

"I'll show them," she thought vengefully.

Francis shrugged once more, his boulder-like shoulders moving, his muscles seemingly having to move aside to make way for his other muscles. He thumped his elbow down on the table, hand open invitingly. "Come on, little girl, let's get this over with," he growled.

Jenny drew herself up, and flexed her right arm, showing her mounds of arm muscle. There was some wolf-whistling and catcalls.

"Now that's what I call an ARMS race!"

"You oughta join the ARMy, girl!"

Well, so this was what passed for humor in a mining town.

Jenny moved her hand in carefully, hooking thumbs with Francis from above.

"Come on, put your elbow down already," the super mutant grumbled. "Trying some fancy arm wrestling tricks? No tricks here, Jenny. Left arms behind our backs. Elbows close together. Pull inwards."

This was a blow. Jenny complied, putting her left hand behind her back, her mind awhirl. She could not even grip the table for leverage! It would really be just a contest of muscle -- strength, endurance and sheer bloody-mindedness would have to see her through!

Even she knew she couldn't win this one!

She swallowed hard, trying to hide her sudden nervousness. She'd be damned if she let Francis see how shaken she was. Instead, she braced her shoulders and coolly looked him in the eye as she closed her fingers around his hand. He tightened his grip as well.

Jenny almost gasped aloud. His grip was strong! He gave the term "vise-like grip" new meaning. Her corded forearm rippled as she tried, unsuccessfully, to match his grip strength.

"Ready... GO!"

Jenny tried to follow her original plan as much as she could. With a roar, she rocked her whole body to the left, pulling in as hard as she could. Francis's body barely moved at all. His arm jerked an inch or so in her direction. Then he held her.

"Gal's got spirit, gotta give her that!"

"Yeah, gotta HAND it to her! Ho, ho, ho!"

"Look at 'em biceps go!"

And their biceps were popping indeed. Jenny gave another cry of effort, though this one sounded less like a fierce roar and more like a desperate scream. It was all she could do to keep her wrist from being completely overwhelmed and bent back. She could not even attempt a hook or overhand roll. In this battle, forearms against forearms, biceps against biceps, shoulders against shoulders, pecs against pecs, there was only one possible outcome.

But she refused to give in. The strain was showing completely on her face as the seconds passed, and she grunted and moaned like a she-bear in heat. Francis moved her back to dead center without much apparent effort. His muscles bunched up, and Jenny felt her arm starting to get pulled down.

"Over the top, Francis! Over the top!"

"Use your clavicle, Francis, use your clavicle!"

"Hey, Francis, TRICEP-arating her arm from her shoulder!"


Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 01



These witticisms were getting to be more painful than the pain Francis was inflicting on her. He seemed to be taking his time, instead of taking her down in one powerful surge, as she was sure he easily could. Jenny blinked the sweat away from her eyes and looked up, meeting his gaze. She saw the mild sadism there, the desire Francis had to prolong her humiliation and suffering before claiming her as his prize.

She bared her teeth at him. She could not let him know that she had never been more turned on in her life. With every ounce of strength, she continued resisting him.

Her biceps became stretched out as her trembling arm was forced down slowly, bit by bit. The crowd -- mostly rough, working men, but Jenny had noticed a couple of women -- seemed solidly on their hometown champion's side. Jenny felt chagrined -- she had not had the opportunity to show her true mettle. Her head bowed in defeat as her hand neared the tabletop. She still refused to give up, flexing her desperately tired arm for all she was worth, fighting Francis for every fraction of an inch.

But Francis stopped just shy of victory. Jenny kept her hand hovering barely an inch above the table surface, and it took all of her remaining strength to keep it there. She realized Francis was toying with her.

"Someone get me a beer," Francis called out. Accordingly, a mug was placed in his outstretched left hand. He took a swig, his throat muscles working as he swallowed.

"Aaaahh... hits the spot," he exclaimed with satisfaction. "Hey Jenny, Phil's beer is good stuff. You want a drink? Here, have mine. You look like you could cool off a little."

Jenny was helpless to prevent what Francis did next. Francis held the mug over Jenny's head and poured the rest of the beer slowly onto her hair, letting the beverage trickle down her suffering visage and flow in rivulets over the nooks and crannies of her muscular physique. She turned her face to the side, gasping, her face reddening even more with the sounds of laughter ringing in her ears.

Tears of shame pricked her eyes as she felt her strength fail her. Her arm muscles gave way, and Francis pressed her hand firmly down. She slumped. She had been thoroughly humiliated. She knew she looked a hangdog sight, dripping with beer all over, her arm stretched out in defeat.

"Way to go, Francis! You sure SHOULD-ER!" some wise guy chortled.

"You people are the worst," Francis shook his head in mock despair, letting go of Jenny's hand. "Alright, looks like you're my gimp bitch for the night. Better rest up for a bit. You're coming with me back to my place in about an hour. I gotta get me some grub."

The crowd dispersed slowly, many eyes still lingering appreciatively on Jenny's bare torso. Jenny could guess that they had not really expected her to put up a real fight, let alone win. She had just satisfied their prurient interests by going up against Francis, and her decision to strip down had just made it that much better to watch. And later on, in the night... Jenny shuddered.

Someone placed a bottle of rotgut whiskey in front of her. "On me," said a female voice. "You may not have won, but you're alright in our books. You're a tough act for the rest of us women to follow. You got my respect, if nothing else."

Jenny looked up to see who it was. Her first impression was that of a scowl. The middle-aged woman in front of her looked accustomed to a hard life. No, more than that -- something in the curl of the lips told Jenny that this was the sort of woman who took a perverse pride in having a hard life; the self-righteous breed who would look down upon others for not having her kind of tough attitude, and who would sneer at others who were down in the dumps for not picking themselves up by the bootstraps. Jenny had no idea why she just had that sudden intuitive rush of insight, but she was rarely off the mark when it came to these things.

"You're Jenny, right? Got your name from Phil. Name's Liz. Pleasure to meetcha. Pity about what you gotta suffer tonight, but them's the breaks when you have all these undesirables in town."

Jenny's mind worked quickly. "You don't like the way things are around here?"

"Funny how I'm talking about this to a bare-breasted woman in a bar who just got a public shaming," Liz snorted, "but yeah. Ol' Marcus, he's the mutie scumbag who runs this show. Made it so anyone can come in, be they straight up human like you and me, or a dumb useful slave like a ghoul, or a mutant bastard. I run the general store, stop over any time. Tomorrow, say. I got something for yer. Might be of use, if you know what I mean." Without another word, Liz strode off.

The next hour went by slowly. Jenny put on her jacket again, and had a light dinner at the bar -- a strip of iguana meat and half a fruit. She wasn't concerned with local politics -- it seemed that some people like Liz didn't like the sheriff Marcus, but Jenny didn't hear anyone else echo her views. In any case, she was preoccupied thinking about her impending night with Francis. Her palms were actually starting to feel clammy.

And suddenly Francis was looming behind her. "Alright, sweetheart, time to go," he grunted, and wrapped a massive arm around her waist. Before she could so much as cry out, she found herself hoisted over his shoulder. Again, gales of laughter greeted the sight of her fresh humiliation. She struggled weakly but futilely as Francis carried her out, waving goodbye to a few friends.

He hummed a tune as he walked back to his home, in the residential area of the town. Jenny felt like a sack of meat, being bumped with every step he took. "Put me down," she grunted. "I can walk, damn it!"

"Don't feel like running and chasing tonight, so nope. You just quiet down until we get home," Francis replied.

"I'm not going to run. I lost, fair and square. You get to have your way with me, as you said. But put me down!"

Francis ignored her as he walked along the street. A few people peered out their windows to stare as Francis walked past, but apparently it wasn't a curious enough sight for them to come out and investigate.

Truthfully, Jenny was feeling lightheaded not just from being carried slung over his shoulder, but from the intoxicating feeling of being so completely dominated and overmastered. She could almost feel the power thrumming through the body of this magnificent creature carrying her home like the spoils of a successful hunt. She bit her lip, almost moaning with pleasure at the thought of whatever Francis had in mind for her. Later on she knew she wouldn't be able to conceal her pleasure, but for now she didn't want to give Francis the satisfaction yet.

She was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor of the barely furnished bedroom. Francis stomped over to a big wooden cupboard. "Get undressed," he told her brusquely.

Jenny complied, trying to seem more grudging and less eager. She watched as Francis opened the cupboard, and she could not help gasping. Clearly, Francis didn't get his kicks the normal way!

"I don't have much here specifically for a female," he mused, hand on chin. "One of them sexy harnesses would be good on you, but nobody makes them anymore these days. I keep asking caravans that pass by, but those that don't give me funny looks don't turn up anything. Saw some good stuff in a copy of Cat's Paw once, but that must've been much more common pre-war. Pity. We'll have to make do with good ol-fashioned gear."

"Good ol-fashioned gear" turned out to be a ball gag and simple leather cuffs. Francis took hold of Jenny's head, and forced it down, making her sprawl on all fours. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms roughly behind her back.

"You got good strong arms for a gal," he grunted while cuffing her wrists together. "But like I said, bigger men than you have tried and fallen. Doesn't do to get too full of yourself, woman. See, what you end up with is, now you get full of me." He sniggered.

Jenny pressed her lips thinly. She was not going to admit just yet that it was just what she wanted, what she had secretly craved for a long time: to be dominated, conquered, dragged back and taken forcefully.

"You'll never break me," she asserted instead, with a defiant tilt of her chin.

"Oh yeah?" Francis grabbed a hunk of her hair and jerked her up on her knees painfully, causing her to yelp with pain. He had gotten naked as well. She smelled musky leather, unwashed flesh, sweaty privates. His cock was standing ramrod straight -- it was a good eight or nine inches long. Jenny felt her sphincter clench at the mere sight of it. It was thicker than any she had ever seen, and the length was terrifying. It was a beauty and a wonder.

"Take it easy, nice and slow," he commanded. "I'll go faster when I want to, but you better hope I don't fuck your brains out. Oh, and, if you try biting, it ain't gonna work -- last guy who tried it lost his teeth." He grinned down at her upturned face.

Trembling, Jenny contemplated the stiff penis he was shoving against her lips. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth as wide as she could. Immediately he forced his way in between her lips, and she took in his head, wrapping her lips around it. The taste was overpowering. On the tip of her tongue she got the acrid flavor of his pre-cum.

"Oh, yeah..." he groaned, as she flicked her tongue across his glans. "Getting a real woman to do it is really a whole different deal... most men don't know what the hell to do with a cock in their mouth, but you women were made to do this."

Jenny chose not to tell him that she had in fact never done it before -- Patty's strap-on didn't count. But in any case she could not -- she was trying not to gag, and to keep breathing through her nostrils, as Francis pushed in deeper with insistent thrusts. Soon, his penis head was pressing against the back of her throat. She had taken in as much of his shaft as she could. Her eyes began to tear up, as she tried to suppress her gag reflex.

Francis looked down at her, and he moaned with pleasure at the sight of her upturned face, stuffed with his cock, tears coming out of her eyes. Jenny pictured what she looked like to him, and she wished her hands were free so she could finger herself. What a glorious image of unwilling submission she must be!

Francis began to move Jenny's head back and forth, his hips bucking as well rhythmically. He was so huge that Jenny's jaw began to ache. She could not prevent her teeth from scraping slightly against his penis -- but to her surprise, it fazed him not at all. He did not seem to notice any pain or discomfort. So this was what it was like with a super mutant, Jenny thought. He probably could take any pain she could dish out. Maybe if he could be persuaded later on to uncuff her and let her actually take a bit of control...

Then Francis suddenly froze, and a tremor ran through his hips.

"HOOOOAAARRRRRR!"

Jenny felt the back of her throat actually get pummeled with the force of Francis's ejaculation! Gobbet after gobbet of hot, thick cum impacted her throat and ran down into her gullet. She held her breath, feeling her heart pounding, as the initial barrage became a stream momentarily, then a trickle. She tried to swallow it all -- she had no choice, it was that or drown in the flood of mutant cum. But even then there was simply too much -- some of it began to froth around the edges of her mouth. She began to struggle reflexively, but her hands were cuffed and Francis's hand pressed her head tightly in place.

Thankfully, Francis withdrew, his semen dripping off the edge of his cock. Jenny spit and swallowed in turn, clearing her mouth, and then desperately gasped for breath, gulping in as much air as she could. Her vision was swimming, and her throat was burning. She wondered, was it over already? He just wanted her to blow him?

Then she looked at Francis's cock, and gazed at it for long moments. It wasn't going flaccid. It wasn't going down. In fact, it was throbbing and pulsing, seemingly of its own accord, its vigor undiminished.

Francis himself seemed as energetic. "Tha' was good," he sighed. "Now, on with the show."

On with the show? It seemed super mutants were truly engineered to be better in every department. Even though they could never reproduce, their sexual vigor seemed to be limitless, if Francis was any gauge! Jenny now moaned openly with pleasure. She could go on all night if she wanted to at any time -- and now here was someone, apart from Pounding Patty, who could do the same with her.

"You sound like you're liking it," Francis said in a complaining tone of voice as he reached for the ball gag. "Try to struggle a bit more, why don't you."

"Oh, I will. You won't break me so easily," Jenny managed to say before the ball gag slipped into place. She began to salivate immediately.

Francis grabbed a hunk of her short red hair and forced it down, making her prostrate, her hands cuffed behind her back. He got behind her and roughly shoved her legs apart with his own. Her slit was now wide open before him, and some liquid began to drip out of her and onto the floor.

"You're really liking it!" Francis exclaimed at the sight. "Damn it, woman, you're dripping wet down here!" Jenny closed her eyes, trembling. It was true -- she had never been so turned on in her life. Just the thought of that massive organ entering her, filling her up against her will, was enough to get so much of her juices flowing. And that thought was moments away from becoming reality.

"Mmmff... MMMFFF!" Her muffled groans filled the room -- she could feel the tip of his cock pressing against her, parting her labial lips slightly. Francis was breathing heavily and raggedly as he crouched over her like some monster, his hand still subduing her head, pressing it against the floor so that Jenny's right cheek was plastered against it. His other hand reached around her waist, and clutched at her belly. His fingers ran all over her abdominal muscles, pressing them, probing them. His hands wandered up to her drooping, hanging tits briefly, and he slapped and squeezed them as if they were soft bags of cotton.

"Mmm... don't normally get these with the package," he grunted, squeezing her as if he wanted to milk her jugs. "Never saw much appeal in them... soft weak spots on the body... but you're a strong one, alright. As strong as some men I've fucked, right here in this room. Maybe even stronger than most of them. Not the strongest though, oh no."

Jenny clenched her fingers tighter in helpless defiance. She hated hearing that -- she wanted to be stronger than any man she met. But this Francis had overmastered her so thoroughly, so confidently... she began to edge backwards, trying to get more of Francis's cock inside her.

"You want some of it, huh," Francis chuckled throatily. "What a slut you are. Alright, bitch, you want it, you got it."

Jenny closed her eyes and moaned, tremors shaking her body, as suddenly Francis thrust himself inside her. In the blink of an eye she felt her pussy walls stretching to accommodate the throbbing mass of power that was his cock. So much of him... so hard... And now he was thrusting in and out, moving it, his cock so big that it couldn't all fit inside her. It jammed her up, all the way to her cervix.

It was happening... she was being fucked. Fucked like a bitch, taken from behind doggy style, restrained and helpless, after being conquered.

Her body rocked in tandem with Francis's pounding thrusts, which settled into a steady rhythm. Experimentally she clenched her pussy as tightly as she could -- she vividly remembered one abortive rape attempt she had suffered in an alleyway in New Reno, when her would-be rapist had subdued her first with a sneak attack. 

He had gotten as far as getting his pants down and his little cock actually inside her. She had squeezed with all her might. She had stared into the pathetic weakling's face and saw every moment -- first, his eyes widened. Then, his face blanched. Then his mouth opened in an "O" and he began to scream, scratching and clawing at her, trying to free himself. But she had crossed her legs around his waist and she was pulling him deeply into her, not relinquishing. Within seconds he was begging for mercy, plastered against her, tears of pain streaming from his eyes. 

"I should crush this little prick of yours," she'd growled in his face, and she had nearly made good on her promise too, except that she had balked at the thought of having mangled bloody pulp inside her vagina. She didn't want any medical complications -- the doctor was expensive after all. She had taken her time to dress herself leisurely, while the little man staggered away, white-faced, clutching his mangled and bruised member. He had probably been robbed and killed that same night -- the streets of New Reno were utterly devoid of mercy for the weak, and he had been as weak as they came.

But with Francis, he barely noticed. He merely groaned with pleasure as Jenny increased the friction against his shaft. His pounding barely slowed. Jenny was delirious with pleasure. This felt perfect. No strap-on could feel like this -- no strap-on could possibly be responsive, after all. She could feel vicariously the effect that her pussy muscles were having on a real penis.

Francis opened his mouth and let out a long, low roar. He jammed himself into her as deeply as he could. And within moments, Jenny felt it -- hard spurts, so hard, being pumped into her, filling her up, so much of it...

Her body shuddered with her own orgasm. She jerked urgently, spasming violently. Hers lasted longer than his -- as his subsided, he kept his cock in her, and he felt every clenching spasmodic movement of her vaginal walls. Jenny knew he had to be staring at the broad expanse of her strong, muscled back, fully flexed in the throes of orgasm.

"Ohhh... tha's good... that's very good..." Francis sighed, slowly pulling out of her. Unwilling to let him go yet, Jenny tried to clench her pussy hard to keep him in, but she didn't have full control over her pussy muscles just yet -- her cumming was just ending.

"So you liked that, huh?" Francis remarked, placing his hands on her buttocks and spreading them wide apart to get a good view of her privates. "Look at ya. Practically a flood down here. I should get you to clean this up with your tongue, but you'd get splinters." His cum, mixed with her juices, was dripping out onto the floor. She moaned and tried to squeeze her pussy close, but that only made a big dollop of the fluid plop out and pool beneath her.

"Alright... that was real fine. You're a great sport, Jenny," Francis complimented her as he turned her onto her back and slipped the ball gag off her head.

Immediately she said breathlessly, "More... I can do more... and I know you got it in you, big boy... let's keep going."

"You're loving this!" Francis shook his head slowly. "You gotta be kidding me."

"What's the matter, big guy, tired?" Jenny grinned. Her hands were still cuffed behind her, so she lay back and spread her muscular legs wide, holding them as straight as she could in a V. "I'm still going strong. Show me what you can do, big man. Unless you think you can't handle me?"

Francis's eyes glinted. "Well now, that sounds like a challenge," he mused.

"Damn right it is," Jenny shot back. "And I know you get off on this, as much as I do. You conquered me, back there at the bar, but I'm not done. My arm might have lost to your arm, but my pussy hasn't lost to your cock yet. I say my pussy's stronger than your cock, and that means I'm stronger than you!"

She knew she had found the right angle to use on him. Francis gave a growl of mock anger, but she could tell that he was intensely aroused by her little speech. "You think you're strong, huh," he grunted, as he clambered forward and mounted her, his hands clamping around her ankles to keep them spread. "You think you're strong, just because you got a bit more muscle on you than a typical broad? You ain't nothing... you ain't nothing!"




Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 01



"You can't beat me," Jenny gasped, even as she felt the glorious sensation of his cock pressing against her opening again. "I'll squeeze you dry, and I'll make you beg me to let you go, just like what happened to a guy once."

"Was that guy a super mutant like me?" Francis grinned cockily. "I felt your squeezing just now -- that the best you can do? Come on, bitch. Show me what your little bit of muscle can do." He slid himself inside her, braced himself, and waited.

Jenny took a few deep breaths to steady herself. Then, staring into his eyes above her face, she squeezed with every ounce of strength she could muster.

He showed no reaction, beyond a slight curling of the lip and baring of the teeth. "Nice massage," he rumbled. "Nice and relaxing. I thought you were gonna make me beg or something?"

She gritted her teeth and squeezed harder, harder than she had ever squeezed before. Her hips trembled. Every muscle stood out on her body.

"Alright... you got some strength in you, I'll give you that," Francis grunted. "But you are not stronger than me." Slowly, propping his body up with his hands and feet, he began to move his pelvis up, withdrawing from her pussy.

Jenny's moan held a note of desperation. Francis was sliding himself out of her with some difficulty, the slick, wet sound testimony to the amount of friction being generated. But he was experiencing no real difficulty pulling out of her.

"Noooooo..." she moaned. "Won't... let you..." But it was no use... with every passing moment she had less to hold on to, and with a small expulsion of air, he was out -- his cock slipped the grip of her pussy.

"You lose," Francis grinned down at her. "Cock beats pussy."

She gazed up at him, letting him see the expression of defeat in her eyes. "I lose... you win..." she whispered hoarsely. "Your arm... your cock... your body... stronger than anything I have. I lose."

"You're my slave."

"I'm your slave."

"I'm much stronger than you."

"You're much, much stronger than me."

Grunting, Francis shoved himself inside her again, making her buck with ecstasy as once again he fucked her with earnest intensity. They locked gazes all the way, Jenny doing her best to project the emotion of an utterly defeated and humiliated opponent, Francis drinking in the sight.

After he had spent himself in her once more, he pulled her up none too gently onto her feet before removing the cuffs. Their mingled love juices still streamed down in between Jenny's thighs.

"You're a really good fuck," he commented conversationally. "You really get what it's all about. Gotta thank you for that, Jenny. I usually take the men because they put up a fight, which the women usually can't, but with them it's all just rough and tumble -- them that take it don't want it, and them that want it can't take it. You, you actually made the effort to play it up. It felt really special. So that's good. So thanks."

"I should thank you just as much then," Jenny started, but Francis spanked her.

"Alright, now scat," he said. "I'm going to sleep, and I don't particularly want company. Get your stuff and get out. Oh, wait." He reached down and picked up the ball gag, and tossed it over to Jenny, who caught it. "A souvenir. Keep it, I got lots. Maybe next time, if you feel like it again, bring it along. We'll try a few other things."

"And if I beat you?" Jenny said, her pride flaring again.

Francis had already crawled onto his bed, but he tilted his head up at her. "What? Ho ho ho. You think that's ever gonna happen?"

"Let's say if. If I come back, challenge you again for that Power Fist, and win, what then?"

"Well, you get the Fist, like I promised," he said, starting to look annoyed.

"No. I want more." Jenny stepped forward, clutching the ball gag and her clothes in her hands, her nipples jutting out proudly, her muscles gleaming. "I figure if you get beaten by a woman, an extra serving of shame seems about right for you. If I beat you, I get to fuck you and have my way with you. I get to be in control."

"Fine. Whatever. Ha." Francis snorted with amusement. "It's a deal, Brickhouse Jenny."

"The name's Jolting Jenny, actually," she told him. "It's my prize fighter name from back in New Reno."

He pursed his lips with mild interest. "Prize fighter, eh? They got that going on down in New Reno? Maybe I should go check out the place. Oh, wait -- they probably don't welcome my kind down there. Ah, pity. Would've liked to go see one of your matches, and see you get your ass handed to you by some guy."

She smiled grimly. "I win most of the time. And when I lose, I always make a comeback in the rematch. And I want a rematch with you, big boy."

"Alright, you got it, Jolting Jenny," Francis sprawled lazily on his bed. "Now beat it."

Jenny left the house after putting on her leather clothing. Something stayed in her memory -- that woman, Liz, who ran the general store, had made some kind of offer. She had some kind of lead on something that would be "useful". Jenny decided that first thing in the morning, she'd have to go check out what that is.

In the meantime, she knew that back at the caravan, she'd have to endure no end of ribbing and innuendo from the others. She did not smile, but something in her cherished that prospect. It was what honed her, forged her, made her capable of finding the determination needed to rise again, harder and stronger than before.

"I'm going to get you, Francis," she whispered, glancing back at the house she had just left. "I'm going to get stronger than you. I'm going to beat you."



Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 02



[This story is set in the universe of the game Fallout 2. Any locations, NPCs and other in-game concepts are all the intellectual property of the original creators. No infringement is intended. If you don't like the idea of "tampering" with the game lore, don't read.]

[This story has a muscular female protagonist who likes it rough, and has some very specialized kinks. If this kind of stuff is not to your liking, don't read.]

[I like muscles. I especially like women with muscles. If you don't like that, don't read.]

[This chapter also contains some non-sexual exposition.] 

*

Jenny stared at the pale, greenish tablets on the countertop.

"Well? Whaddaya think?" Liz was grinning, though her grin combined with her permanent scowl to create a sort of hybrid facial expression. "Chems aren't easy to get in this here town, but I got a small supply cache in the back."

"And you're just going to give these to me for free?" Jenny was familiar with the appearance of Buffout, the strengthening chem. She just hadn't expected to see any here, much less to be offered it for free.

Liz spread her arms. "I think of it as doing my part against mutant domination. If you can break Francis's winning streak, it'd strike a blow against mutant morale. You're a fantastic looking gal, you know -- people gotta see that us real humans can match the muties and their supposed advantages. What else would drive the point home better than a woman like you beating Francis at their own game?"

"I'm not so sure about this 'mutant domination' you're talking about," Jenny said carefully. "So far, I haven't seen any oppression going on."

Liz's scowl was back. "You just don't see beneath the surface yet. 'Course, you're from out of town and you only been here a day, so you won't know. You should talk to Jacob. He's the town chemist. He and his wife Aileen... well..." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Let's just say there's some of us who want to change the... status quo." She pronounced those last syllables with an exaggerated twang. 

"Maybe after you bruise Francis's ego a bit, I'll arrange an introduction, get you in on the action. You'd be a big help to our cause, girlfriend." Liz put out her hand and stroked Jenny's arm admiringly, running her hand slowly up and down. Jenny was wearing a sleeveless denim vest this morning, which she had bartered for from one of the local patrolwomen. They called themselves the "Unity Patrol". From what Jenny had gathered through conversing with them, they seemed to be standing for diametrically opposite values from Liz and her friends.

She turned her attention back to the Buffout tablets on the counter, ignoring Liz's blatant admiration of her muscled arm. As far as she could tell, this was the genuine article. Stuart Little at the Jungle Gym wasn't particularly bothered by chem use -- it was New Reno after all, where drugs were sold on every street corner openly. In fact, Jenny remembered when she had first wanted to join up and become a prize fighter.

"We don't take scrawny girls," the midget had scoffed, even after seeing Jenny's build. Jenny was beefy even then. "Maybe go take some Buffout, then come back. But even then, take a look at these guys! They'll chew you up and spit you out." He had waved in the general direction of the other denizens of the Jungle Gym -- big and brawny to a man, grunting and huffing away at their weights.

"Those that still have teeth, you mean," Jenny had shot back. She had been determined -- hitting the weights together with the men, and with Pounding Patty, the only other woman boxer in the gym.

Jenny had made him change his tune, and without resorting to Buffout. It was rather difficult to find outside New Reno, since it had a fairly niche application. Also, the drawback was that even without becoming addicted, a user suffered serious exhaustion and fatigue approximately six hours after initial ingestion.

"If I take the Buffout, I might just be able to beat Francis," Jenny thought. But after that, she would probably be as weak as... well... a girl. And that would never do, if she intended to repay Francis in kind for the forfeit she had given him. Francis would get suspicious for sure, if the woman who outmuscled him got all soft and weak later in the night.

"I'll have to get him late at night, then finish the gimping within 6 hours," she decided. It could be done.

She took the pills and nodded. "Alright. Thanks for your help, Liz. I'll put these to good use."

"I bet you would," Liz smiled, though on her face it looked more like an ugly smirk. She stepped in closer. "You know... if you ever feel like a bit of company... say, you need a massage after all your muscular exertions or something..."

Jenny gently disengaged. "I'll think about that, Liz," she said as politely as she could.

Liz looked a little disappointed. "Well alright then. Go out there and kick mutie butt. Me and the others, we'll be there tonight cheering you on."

Jenny stepped out into the warm, dry air. Somehow, she felt as though she had stepped out of a very unpleasant place indeed. The pills were safe inside an inner pocket, but she privately nursed doubts about them. Were they really clean Buffout? What was their provenance? Should she risk it? Did she really want to beat Francis that badly?

Hell, yes, she decided. She did. She wanted to drink in the expression of defeat that would be on his face. She wanted to stare into his eyes and see the crushing knowledge there that he had just been beaten in a contest of strength by a human woman. She wanted to hoist him onto her back and drag him to his room for... all manner of things. Just thinking of it made her moist.

The caravan office was just across the street, and just then, a super mutant stepped out of the door. For a moment Jenny thought it was Francis, but this one was... older and craggier looking. He was also attired differently, wearing some elaborate armor of some kind. He even had a pair of goggles strapped to his forehead.

The super mutant turned to talk to someone standing in the doorway -- Jenny recognized Bill, the caravan master. Then they both shook their heads, and the mutant plodded away, seemingly deep in thought. He noticed Jenny standing outside the general store, though, and for a moment he hesitated. Then he gave a friendly nod.

"Well, hello there," he hailed.

Jenny approached him. "Hello. I'm Jenny. Who're you?"

He cracked a grin. "Oh, I know who you are," he chuckled. "Hell, ain't a soul in this town who hasn't heard of you by now, even those who don't usually go to Phil's, or who got no truck with Francis. You're that buff gal who had the guts to take up Francis's challenge. Heard you put on a pretty good show, too, going bare-chested and all."

Jenny flushed a little, but tilted her chin up proudly. "Yes, that's me. And you haven't answered my question."

"I'm Marcus. Helped build this place," he said, gesturing about him. "Now I'm sheriff."

Jenny's jaw dropped. "You helped build the place? Bullshit!" she blurted out. "I... I mean... how could you have been around that long?"

Marcus sighed. He began walking along the street, in the direction of an imposing building at the end that probably served as some sort of town hall. Jenny fell in step with him.

"Long story. Want it short or the whole thing?"

"Well... I'm not too busy. Let's hear it all."

"Right..." His voice took on a reminiscing tone. "After the Master and the vats were destroyed... I wandered a bit. No place to go. One day got attacked by this fool wearin' power armor."

"Really?"

"That was Jacob, from the Brotherhood of Steel. He'd sworn some oath to destroy muties. We tussled for a while -- probably a day or two. After a while, we just started laughing. What was the point?"

Jenny pondered this. She had heard a little about the history of the super mutants, most of whom apparently came out of this place called Mariposa. She also had heard a bit about the Brotherhood of Steel -- some order of techno-warriors, with access to stuff like pre-war power armor. She'd never seen such armor in her life -- most people hadn't, but stories were sometimes told.

"Jacob... like Jacob the chemist?"

Marcus darted a quick look at her. "Well... that's our Jacob today, and yeah, matter of fact, he was named after my friend. But... well... let's just say he ain't nothing like the original. Anyway... Jacob and I became friends. Headed off together." 

They walked past the well, and Micky the Treasure Hunter was there again, peering into its depths. He waved cheerily to Marcus and Jenny. "Good morrow, fair lady! I was right, was I not? Francis certainly seems appropriate company for a woman of your... er... stature," he laughed genially. Jenny smiled back and waved in reply.

"That Micky, a real piece of work," Marcus laughed. "Day he finds any treasure round here for real, I'll hang up my badge and head out east again." They had reached the big building. It looked very secure from the outside. "This here's my office, and also the town jail. The cells are over there," Marcus waved to Jenny's left, towards a grim imposing building. "Used to be a bank in pre-war days, but of course, we don't have a use for that sort of thing anymore. Come on in, have a seat."

Jenny followed him into the cooler interior of the building, and sat with him at a table. The chair creaked under his weight, but it held. Marcus leaned back, sighing again. He had a weary cast to his face.

"So... where was I? Ah. Right. We headed east together. Then people started following us. Guess they figured if they weren't safe with a mutie and a Steel Knight, safe just wasn't going to happen."

Jenny nodded. Couldn't argue with that, she thought. "So then you set up here. Why?"

Marcus's eyes crinkled. "Uranium mine. I knew there was one around from old maps. Now anybody's welcome here -- 'long as they act right. Others might not think much of us, but nobody's more free than we are. There ya go." He stretched his legs. "I miss the old fella. Best damn friend I ever had. Always thought he'd be improved with a dip into the FEV vats, but he never could see my point of view. What a great mutant he would've been."

FEV... Jenny's mind threw up a card. Forced Evolutionary Virus -- the reason the super mutants existed at all.

"But you don't hate humans, do you?" she asked.

"Well... no. Never really hated them," he mused, "we just had a better way. These new governments, they think they've got all the answers. Blah, blah. Been there, seen that, got the scars."

The only "new government" Jenny really knew about was the New California Republic, down in the south. New Reno's families sometimes had dealings with them, she knew, especially the Bishops. Or possibly Marcus also meant Vault City up north, which was where she would be going to next with the rest of the caravan.

"So what's this better way?"

"The Master wanted to elevate everyone to his level, so we wouldn't fight each other anymore. He was convinced we wouldn't do it by ourselves -- couldn't. We had to be forced to evolve."

Something had changed in Marcus's voice. He no longer sounded world-weary. There was an energy to his speech that had not been there before. "While Jacob was alive, I thought the Master was wrong. But it seems that while some men can heed the call and rise above it all, most just run away. Jacob heard the call and embraced it. So did the Vault Dweller. But no matter how many rise above, the masses will always destroy them, right?"

Ah, the legendary Vault Dweller. Jenny had heard about this mysterious figure who apparently saved the remnants of the world about 70, 80 years ago. But the details were hazy, and Jenny wasn't that interested in old tales. Still, Marcus's story and his views were fascinating.

"Maybe so..." she murmured, mulling over his words.

"The Master just wanted everyone to see clearly. The Vault Dweller ended that dream."

"Sounds like you admired and hated the Vault Dweller at the same time."

"You're right. If all humans fought for what they believed in like that, we wouldn't have needed the Master's plan in the first place."

Jenny thought about this. She couldn't relate. Her entire life had been spent fighting for survival -- on the streets of New Reno, she had learnt the hard way that you fought to live, to keep yourself safe and alive. She had been lucky -- in her youth she had witnessed a fistfight that took place in an alleyway, and she had seen for the first time that a skilled and strong person could use his body as a weapon. Without that knowledge, and the desire to make herself a strong fighter, the best she could have hoped for would have been to be one of Miss Kitty's girls at the Cat's Paw. 

She fought to protect herself, she fought on the job to guard caravans, and she fought to take down big men who thought they could be bullies by dint of their size. Fighting for beliefs? Jenny couldn't wrap her head around it. As for her sexual kinks... she somehow didn't think that was a variety of what Marcus was talking about.

"Don't forget," Marcus said, interpreting her silence as skepticism about the Master's intentions, "I knew the folks involved. They were the best humanity had to offer. Your people are going to tell the story a different way, right?" There was a strange emphasis he put on the phrase "your people".

"But you were human once," Jenny protested. "Are you really so different now? In your minds, I mean."

"My memories of being a human aren't as clear as they once were, but I remember pettiness, hatred, jealousy... I prefer being a mutant."

"You mutants aren't above emotions like that!" Jenny objected. "I mean... if you were..."

Marcus threw his head back and guffawed. "Oh boy... if you're talking about Francis... he was an oddball way before he got dipped. He still gets his kicks the way he does, but didn't you notice he's actually one of the mellowest people around? Doesn't get angry or anything. Even at... some of the people around here. Some folks just don't want any truck with being civilized, seems to me sometimes." He was back to sounding weary again.

"Some of it remains, our personalities, I mean. The strongest parts of a person's character stay, but a lot of it is gone, trust me. And that's what I mean! The Master's plan... it was flawed, I don't mind admitting. We should have only taken the best. Look around. Most mutants didn't have the mind or will to withstand the strain." He sighed. "If only we had chosen better..."

There didn't seem to be anything Jenny could say to that. The finer points of the ethicality of forcibly transforming the entire human race into sterile super mutants were lost on her. Still... she was forming an idea of the kind of person Liz was, and by extension the kind of company Liz kept. She thought about the pills sitting snug against her chest, and why she had been given them.

"Uh... I just want to say... I've met a few people around here who... frankly, don't like mutants," she told Marcus. "I just want to make it clear, I have nothing to do with them. I don't have anything against your kind. I like your system here, I like the way you do things. I think you're making a fine sheriff."

"Well, thank you. We try. And from what Francis says... you definitely don't have anything against our kind," Marcus winked disconcertingly.

"That... that Francis... he... told you all about..." Jenny spluttered. "Why, that... I'll get him back tonight. See if I don't!" She got up and stomped away, fuming. "You tell him, I'm coming to beat his green ass tonight, he better be there at the saloon!" she yelled over her shoulder, while Marcus slapped his thighs and laughed uproariously.

That Francis! Jenny's mind was made up. She wanted no part of Liz, Jacob the chemist or any of their group -- but she was going to use the Buffout to get an advantage, and beat Francis at arm wrestling. Then she'd have her sweet, sweet way with him and that inexhaustible cock of his...

She spent the rest of the day at the caravan office, just resting and relaxing along with several others, mostly off-duty caravan guards like her. They had all heard about her little excursion, and she was the subject of a little ribald joking for a while, but mostly the conversation turned to other topics. She did get a challenge from a grizzled caravan guard to arm wrestle for similar stakes, but she only said, "I'm challenging him again tonight. You can come watch. Then after that, if you think you can still take me on, you're welcome to try." That had shut him up.

The sun began to dip below the horizon. People came in and out. Bill bustled around, shuffling papers, looking harassed. Gradually, the place emptied out.

Looking around her, Jenny saw that the time had come. She got up and made her way to the dressing room, which was empty at the moment. There were mirrors in there. She wanted to see what would happen.

Standing in front of a half-length mirror, stripped down to her underclothes -- a ragged pair of panties, no top -- Jenny took a deep breath, popped the Buffout pills into her mouth, and swallowed. She took a few deep breaths, as she felt the pills go down her gullet.

Then it came. Jenny gasped as a tingling wave seemed to pass through her body. It did not feel entirely unpleasant, but it was definitely an alien feeling. Were the pills fake, somehow? What if it was some other sort of drug? Then the pain came.

It was not unmanageable, but it made Jenny hunch over and clutch at herself. Her throbbing heartbeat seemed to get louder and louder. She began trembling all over. The pain subsided, but now there was this sensation of... fullness... in her body. She felt as if her various muscles were somehow inflated with some thick substance.

"Ahhhh!" she could not help crying out. Her back arched and she threw her head back, sucking in air through her teeth. In the pitted and cracked mirror, she could see the veins standing out on her neck and upper chest. Slowly, even as she watched, the veins began to bulge over her arms as well... then her abs... then her thighs. And her muscles... they expanded slightly. They seemed harder, rounder.

Slowly, the trembling subsided. Jenny was bathed in sweat. Her breathing was deep and even. The veins stopped popping out, but she could see a few still, distinct beneath her skin, at her arms, neck and pelvic region. Her nipples had become swollen, and stood out stiffly.

Jenny ran her fingers nervously through her matted mop of red hair. Her eyes were drawn to the rippling of muscle on her arm as she did so. Slowly, she raised both her arms and held them straight up high, seeing her lats flare out, noting that they seemed wider than before. Then she drew her arms down into a biceps pose. Her eyes widened.

Several minutes later, Jenny stepped out of the dressing room, wearing the same leather jacket as the previous night. The caravan master Bill looked up from his desk.

"You ok in there?" he asked with mild concern. "Heard you scream or something."

"Ohh... yeah... no problem... chipped a fingernail," Jenny mumbled as she walked past.

"Right..." Bill went back to his paperwork, frowning. "Dang it all, this just doesn't goddamn add up..." he muttered. "Where's Chad when you need him?"

Jenny stepped out into the setting sun, casting its rays over the town. To the right, further down the street, she saw a small crowd already streaming into the saloon. Several townspeople walked past her, did a double-take as they recognized her, and waved, grinning. She smiled, and waved back.

She felt good. She felt strong. She felt invincible.

Even her thighs seemed to thrum with power as she walked. She could actually feel her quadriceps and hamstrings moving, rippling underneath her pants. She could feel her calves tightening, propelling her legs forward step by step. She felt as if she could run across the entire wasteland.




Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 02



The people inside Phil's saloon gave a small cheer when she stepped in. "There she is!" some people cried.

"She must really like Francis!" a man dressed as a miner guffawed.

"No, it's being his gimp that she likes!" another man retorted, snorting away.

This time, Jenny noticed, there were actually some other super-mutants in the saloon -- they took up so much space as individuals that it would have been hard not to notice them. 

Jenny barely spared any of them a thought. Her gaze was drawn to Francis, who was already sitting at the table, the same table as last night. The super mutant had just downed a bottle of rotgut, it seemed, and was already bare-chested. His teeth flashed in a grin as he saw Jenny walk in.

"Here she is -- the buffest broad in Broken Hills," Francis called out in a good-natured way. "Let's see if she does any better this time, eh?"

Behind him, Jenny saw Liz standing with a few others, including a bedraggled man wearing a stained lab coat and a fairly attractive middle-aged woman, dressed the same way. Liz nudged them and whispered something to them, and they looked over appraisingly at Jenny. The woman frowned a little and shook her head, saying something to Liz out of the corner of her mouth.

"Time to show them," Jenny decided. She stepped up, and felt the gaze of everyone present as she unzipped her jacket and took it off. There was a collective gasp.

"Fwoar..." more than one onlooker gawped appreciatively, as Jenny struck up a side-chest pose, hooking her fingers together.

Francis's eyes glinted. Behind him, Liz looked smug, and winked at Jenny. The man and woman on either side of her nodded approvingly, and the man licked his lips. "You went and took something?" Francis asked bluntly.

Before Jenny could respond, Francis continued, "Well, no harm in that, really. I got FEV, you got... whatever you got. Maybe you decided to bust out some Buffout or something. Heck, I don't care. You use what you have. You ready for another ass-whooping? Sure would be nice to have you tonight again."

Jenny smiled at him. "You're right, it would be nice -- only this time, it'd be me in charge!" The spectators hooted with delight.

Except the three -- Jenny saw that Liz's eyes had narrowed suspiciously, and her companions seemed puzzled. The woman took hold of Liz's elbow and whispered what looked like an urgent query, but Liz shook her off and stood with folded arms, her permanent scowl fixed firmly on her face as she watched silently. What were they thinking? Jenny thought. They didn't like the companionable banter she was exchanging with Francis? They would prefer real animosity in this encounter?

Well, whatever, she thought. "I'm here to beat you, Francis," she said, settling into the chair. "Remember our bargain if I win."

"Yep," was Francis's terse reply. They sat silently, looking over each other's physique for a few moments, before they both put their arms up on the table.

As they moved their hands together, Francis grunted, "You're a real sweet-looking piece of meat. Really growing on me. Seems like you look better every time I see you. If you're on something, keep taking it -- it suits you just fine."

Jenny only smiled in reply. Part of her didn't like that she had had to take Buffout to enhance her muscles for this contest, but she realized that without doing that it would be simply too uneven. It was as Francis said -- he had the FEV, so why shouldn't she get a temporary boost to go up against him? But she had no intention of taking it regularly -- becoming addicted to any sort of chem was a dangerous liability she was not prepared to take on.

"Wow, she looks even bigger than last night!"

"Not all that much bigger -- but more ripped!"

"Not bad for a pinkie!" This one came from a mutant at the back of the crowd, near the wall.

Jenny liked what she was hearing. She looked down at their arms. Her biceps were a solid veined mound, with a little hint of a split that had never really been there. Her muscle definition had been increased. Even her forearm seemed to be more corded. It looked a better match than before for the massive greenish-grey arm it was up against. Francis looked as formidable as ever.

Right now, she desired victory as she had never desired it before. She was not interested in losing tonight. She was here to win!

Her fingers tightened, and she saw how Francis's eyes widened slightly at the realization that she could match his grip strength.

"Ready... GO!"

With a roar and a sharp jerk, Jenny tried to get a jump on Francis, but the canny mutant stopped her dead. After the first violent tremor, their arms vibrated dead even.

Jenny sucked in air through her mouth, getting more oxygen to fuel her efforts. Francis actually began to look strained, which he was probably unaccustomed to. The cheering started, and bets began to be laid. Jenny supposed that some of them were now willing to bet on her.

She didn't care -- she was shutting out the rest of the world, as she did sometimes for a particularly intense boxing match. Her concentration was focused increasingly on just her, her adversary, and their arena of battle -- in this case, the table. She arched her back, pressing her diaphragm harder against the table edge, her left fist clenched behind her back.

The strength was flowing all through her body, and she almost moaned with the sensation of power as she tried to visualize all the strength flowing in one direction -- towards her flexed right arm, into her chest and shoulders, into her biceps as she pulled, into her forearms as she tried to bend Francis's wrist.

For an indeterminate period of time -- perhaps a minute -- their arms stood at dead even, trembling with the pressure of their effort. Francis was starting to grunt with effort. His expression became less cocky, and he frowned. It was clear that he was no longer going to underestimate her.

"Hey, Francis, come on! Move it, over there! You playing around with the pinkie woman?"

"Yeah, stop holding hands with the missy and put her down already! I got fifty dollars on you!"

"Look at them arms go! Not even that last guy had an arm like hers!"

"Homina homina homina! She got good jugs too!"

"Damn... woman..." Francis grunted, sounding really strained. "Gotta... hand it to you... not bad... at all..."

Jenny could not even spare the breath to retort. She was barely holding her own. Sweat had beaded all over her face and body, and was starting to trickle down her forehead and cheeks. Her breathing was becoming ragged. Francis was showing all the signs of strain as well, but to a lesser degree.

A gnawing worry began in her mind. Surely not... surely she could not lose, even after she had taken the Buffout. She was the strongest she had ever been -- but what if it were not enough...?

She knew she had to go on the offensive somehow. The longer the match dragged on, the worse it was for her -- there was no known limit to a super mutant's powers of endurance, and his arm was also longer than hers, meaning that she was putting in more effort than he was moment by moment. He also outweighed her more than five times over -- though this did not matter as much as it would in, say, a wrestling match, this meant that some of his upper torso weight was being brought to bear on her arm.

Unlike him, she could not last indefinitely, even with the Buffout. She had to win fast. But how?

"Hrruugghh!" she suddenly grunted, almost choking, as Francis suddenly gave a surge of power, jerking her down almost halfway!

No! Jenny bared her teeth and flexed for all she was worth, her arm shaking violently. Francis had pulled her down so abruptly that she felt a twinge in her lower biceps. He was also starting to overpower her wrist, bending it ever so slightly.

She refused to give in. Slowly, the veins on her arm and shoulder began to stand out more clearly. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and her head bowed, as she struggled to channel every ounce of strength she possessed into her hurting, tired arm.

With agonizing slowness, she began to pull him back up. She barely registered the yells of shock and surprise resounding all around her -- her world had been reduced to just the table, and the growling, grunting hunk of male muscle opposite her. She refused to acknowledge the ache of the lactic acid in her muscles, or the tightness in her arm muscles that she knew would mean soreness later on. She was conscious only of the pressing need to somehow make her opponent's big arm move up, inch by inch, by dint of her sheer muscle power alone.

And when their arms were once again dead even, she didn't stop. At the same excruciating pace, she began to pull that arm down. Her world narrowed even further. Now it was just her and the arm, the enemy arm. Her legs braced her body against the floor, her trunk braced her body against her legs and the table, her chest anchored her shoulder, her shoulder powered her biceps, her biceps pulled on the forearm, her forearm pulled back and also pulled her wrist inwards. 

All her muscles worked in concert. All she could see of her opponent was his arm, large, potent, grossly swollen, masculine. Overwhelmingly masculine. She could not let it crush her. She had to crush it. Crush it or be crushed.

Dimly she was aware of a thin trickle of blood emerging from her nostril. She was straining so hard that her nose had begun bleeding. When it reached her lips and stained her teeth she tasted the coppery tang. She ignored it.

Almost done. The arm was almost down. The hand was a few inches off the table. She did not slacken. If she stopped pulling, it could reverse all her gains in an instant. Her muscles were crying out for mercy. She ignored them, forced ever more out of them. She could not stop until it was down.

Francis fought her to the end. Being a super mutant, he did not feel muscle fatigue, so his arm could not suddenly give out. The only way to overpower his arm was to do it with sheer strength alone. This, Jenny did. She pressed her hand slowly onto the table, plastering it onto the tabletop, until it was, indisputably, down.

And just like that, his arm stopped resisting her. Her muscles relaxed, and she suddenly felt twinges of pain all over, especially all through her right arm and shoulder. She stared numbly at the sight of her smaller hand pressing down on Francis's. It looked ludicrous, now that she was looking right at the sight. Had she really just done this?

She raised her head as awareness washed over her. The din was deafening.

"Hot damn, I don't believe! She's done it!" Variations of this were being screamed and yelled through the entire room. Jenny looked around. Almost everyone's face showed utter astonishment. Even those few who were collecting their winnings were gaping dumbly at her. Some were shaking their heads in frank disbelief and hooting with incredulous laughter.

Liz, and her companions -- Jacob, and Aileen, their names suddenly came back to Jenny in a flash -- were among the few not reacting with outright shock. They were nodding with a certain grim satisfaction, and Jacob especially seemed almost as if some favorite theorem of his had been proven conclusively.

And Francis sat back, his arm still held down by Jenny's, not trying to pull it back away from her. He slumped in defeat, but there was a big grin plastered across his face.

"You crazy bitch, you," he rumbled. With his left hand he reached into the satchel around his waist. He drew out the coveted Power Fist, and laid it on the table between them. "There. As promised. Fully charged. Take it -- you earned it. With an arm like that, and a glove like this, you'll go far, Jenny. Really far."

Slowly, Jenny relinquished her grip on Francis's hand, her fingers tingling as feeling returned. She had been gripping so tightly that her hand had gone partly numb, it seemed -- or it could have been Francis's grip. Absently, she wiped the blood off her upper lip and reached for the Fist. It would serve her well indeed -- but it was no longer the main prize, in her mind.

She slipped it into a bag she had brought along and fastened the straps. Then she stood up, and stepped in front of Francis. As every pair of eyes fixed on her, she cocked her right arm and flexed it, caressing her biceps sensually. Then she reached out and cradled Francis's head with her hand, and drew it towards her. She dived in for a ferocious kiss -- a kiss of victory and possession.

"Hey, save that for somewhere else! This is a saloon, not a brothel!" Phil protested from his place by the bar.

He got boos for being a spoilsport -- but Jenny laughingly disengaged, and enjoyed the sight of the trail of saliva connecting her mouth and Francis's.

"I'll go get a drink. Then we'll go back to your place," she told him.

"Fine by me. Can't wait," Francis chuckled.

Jenny felt most of her strength returning already -- Buffout enhanced her natural athleticism, and that allowed her to recover quickly after exertion. And what immense exertion it had been! She was filled with the thrill of victory. She didn't care that she was still bare-breasted as she ordered a cold Nuka Cola and gulped it down, letting some of it splash onto her chest.

"Let them feast their eyes," she thought. "Bit of reputation never hurts for a prize fighter."

But Liz came up to her, and the scowl was deeper than ever. "So it's true," she hissed under her breath. "You're a mutie lover, literally. What was all that kissy kissy with that freak?" Jacob and his wife Aileen came up behind her, also looking unhappy.

Jenny looked her in the eye, knowing that she was disconcerting Liz with her upper torso nakedness and her sheer physical presence. "It's called dominance," she explained, her tone neutral. "I took that kiss to show I had conquered him. And now I'm going to repay him for what he did to me last night."

Liz's expression became friendlier at that. "Ah... right... give it to the scum nice and good, eh? Revenge can be sweet."

"It's sex, and both he and I are going to enjoy it," Jenny stated. "And if I swing by this way again, we'll probably do it again, and again, and it doesn't matter who wins or loses, because I like doing it with him. I think I like him a lot better than I like you. He's not scum."

Liz's eyes flashed. Aileen's eyes widened, while Jacob's narrowed.

"Fucking mutie-whore," Liz spat. "We gave you that Buffout -- it wasn't easy to come by! And this is how you repay us?"

"Wasn't aware you wanted paying," Jenny retorted. "You said it'd be enough for me to beat him. Which I just did. I can't help it that you saw it differently from me. You could stand to be less bigoted. A lot less bigoted."

"You'll regret this," Liz threw as a parting shot, as the trio walked away. "I'll make you regret your mutie loving ways, and playing us out like this." Jenny noted that as they walked out, they were given a wide berth by the others.

Phil walked over, cleaning a mug. "Bad sort, those," he said, conversationally. "Their opinion of me is that I barely rate as worth keeping alive. They say they don't want to kill us ghouls, but they think we're just fit to be servants or some such. Was at a town hall meeting, some time back, can't remember when, because after that was when ol' Marcus stopped holding the damn things. Just letting all these kooks rile everyone up... not worth it, he said."

Jenny finished her drink and put the blue bottle on the counter. "Well, I think the town's in good hands," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." She walked towards Francis, cracking her knuckles.

She was disappointed that hoisting him over her shoulders was simply not feasible -- when he straightened, his body was 10 feet long, almost twice Jenny's height. She settled for simply walking out together with Francis and back to his place.

Once there, she wasted no time and dragged him by the arm into the bedroom. Perusing his collection of "equipment", she quickly realized that she would have to improvise -- none of it would fit him. Clearly he had never even contemplated having to be on the receiving end of his proposed forfeit.

"How're you gonna restrain me, eh?" Francis chuckled.

In reply, Jenny turned and gave him a slap, even though swinging her hand upwards somewhat reduced the dominating effect. "With my strength!" she replied. "On your knees, now!"

He stepped in closer. "Make me," he growled menacingly.

In response, Jenny sent a hard right uppercut directly into his lower abdomen. "Ooof!" he gasped. "Ok, ok! Play nice!" he protested good-naturedly as he got down on his knees as instructed.

"Oh no," Jenny grinned. "I'm going to play real nasty..."

On his knees, his head was almost on a level with Jenny's, so she found that she did not have to even bend when she flexed her arm and made Francis kiss her muscles.

"Say, 'I got beaten by a girl at arm wrestling,'" she said huskily.

"Do I gotta? Ow! Alright, alright... I got beaten by a girl at arm wrestling!"

"That's more like it." Jenny put her left hand on the back on Francis's head and pressed his face against her flexed arm, moaning softly. "Feel that... lick it... loser... I beat you..."

When she looked down she could see he was as hard as a rock. "You're a kinky boy, aren't you..."

In reply, Francis grabbed hold of her breasts and pressed them against his cheeks. Jenny's breasts were relatively modest, and they fit very snugly into his huge hands. To make up for it, Jenny crooked her arms forward, compressing her breasts and flexing her pectorals to make them pop out further. Francis shoved his face into her cleavage, kneading her breasts with his strong fingers.

Jenny grabbed his face and kissed him savagely again, almost gnawing at his lips with animal passion. He reciprocated just as fiercely, making a contest of it. His tongue pushed against hers, and Jenny gradually felt the warm, wet interior of her mouth getting invaded by his tongue. Frustrated, she broke the kiss, and they stared into each other's eyes, gasping and panting. She glowered. She would dominate this night -- it would not be the other way round.

She grabbed his shoulders and pushed hard -- she had to push with all her strength, grunting with the exertion, to get him down onto the floor. Then she bent down, hooked her arms under his knees, and heaved, to push his lower body up and over, folding him in half. It was slow, hard going, because he was being deliberately passive, like a sack of meat, instead of cooperating. Jenny had to manhandle him to get him to do what she wanted -- but she had known she would need to do that, and she was brawny enough to do it.

Soon she straddled him, the backs of their thighs touching, Francis being folded in half and held down by Jenny's body weight and strength. His big cock flopped onto his belly, pointing up at his face.

Jenny slowly stretched her arms out to the sides, seeing how Francis drank in the sight of her body. Then, she slowly pulled her arms inwards, flexing her muscles sensually. She was more pumped than she had ever been, thanks to the Buffout. Francis moaned to see the sight of her triumphant pose, and he reached for her hanging breasts, fondling them, rubbing her nipples with circular motions of his thumbs, causing shivers of delight to shudder through her body.

To return the favor, Jenny reached down and grabbed hold of Francis's hard rod. It was pleasantly thick and meaty in her hands, and she loved how grotesque it looked -- it was a veined, throbbing monstrosity, and she held it securely in her strong hands. Francis was at her mercy.

"You cum when I tell you to," she whispered, beginning to massage the shaft and stroke it firmly. "You cum when I let you. You cum because I make you."

"You moan when I touch you like this, bitch," Francis growled, and he reached down, managing to get his fingers rubbing against her slit. Jenny bit her lip, trying to stifle her moan.




Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 02



"Mmmm... ngggg..." Her body trembled with her attempt.

"I can still make you moan like a bitch," he told her. "I make you cum, and you're mine, just like that. You can't dominate me. You can't even control yourself."

Her eyes flashed. "I'll make you cum first, cum onto your own face. Then we'll see who's in control."

Keeping her position on top of him was no easy task. She had to exert continuous pressure with her leg muscles to keep his lower body folded up like this, or he would throw her completely off him. She was determined to ride him. Bending over, she began to minister to his cock, massaging the thick flesh all over, feeling pleased as a drop of clear pre-cum oozed out.

But even though he could only reach her most sensitive regions with a bit of difficulty, his limbs were long. Soon, his fingers were damp with her emitted juices, and he was rubbing his lubricated fingers against her clitoris, which had swelled out of its hood. In the meantime, his other hand sent thrills of pleasure through her nipples, pleasure that tingled all the way down into her spinal cord.

"Fuuuucckk..." She turned the moan that escaped her lips into a curse. Francis grinned, baring his teeth, as her dominant front seemingly cracked slightly.

But she retaliated by grabbing hold of his testicles, and began to massage them lightly. Francis began to breathe heavily, sucking in air through his teeth. Abandoning the shaft, Jenny took hold of his penis head with her other head, and began rubbing the opening, using his copious pre-cum to lubricate it.

Francis's eyes rolled back slightly into his head, and his hands momentarily faltered. He gave a long, deep, throaty groan of pleasure. Jenny hunched over, making her shoulder muscles bunched up, and found that she could raise his cock to her lips, he was long enough for that. She licked -- now the taste was familiar to her. She sucked -- the head alone entered her mouth, and she swirled her tongue all around it. She stroked -- pumping the shaft vigorously and rhythmically. Francis gave up trying to make her cum. He let his arms drop to the floor, and he lay back, his groans getting louder.

Then she felt it -- the pulsing that came just before the eruption. Quickly, she took him out of her mouth. She grabbed the base of his penis and pressed just... there... and suddenly Francis convulsed, his eyes wide, as he felt her deny his orgasm.

"Wha... you..." he spluttered.

Jenny only smiled smugly. She carefully pointed his cock straight at his face, and then released the pressure, letting the built-up orgasm explode. Once again, Francis did not disappoint -- jet after jet shot out of his cock, so hard that she could hear the splats on his face. He grimaced even while his face was twisted with his orgasm.

After eight full spurts had coated his face with thick white goo, Jenny continued squeezed and stroking, but could not coax any more out of the pulsating penis for the time being. She let go of it, and raised her body off him, stepping in between his legs, letting them flop down onto the floor behind her. She stood over him now as he lay, panting.

Jenny put a foot on his massive torso, and flexed again.

"This is what you do in the boxing ring?" he asked, his eyes wandering all along the column of her muscled body.

"Every time I win, yeah," she replied.

"They must love it when you win," he commented.

"Not as much as I do," she said, stepping up and lowering herself slowly on top of his face, pinning his shoulders with her knees. Still maintaining her flex pose, she looked down on his captive, cum-stained face in between her legs, and felt her pussy almost clenching with eagerness.

"You are such a woman," he sighed admiringly, reaching up to run his hands along her bulging arms. "If we do this too much, you're gonna spoil me for others."

"What, getting sentimental already?" Jenny laughed. "Maybe you secretly liked losing all along," she teased, lowering her crotch to his face. She could not help trembling violently and moaning as the wet sensation spread all over her inner thighs, as she clamped onto his face and smeared his ejected cum all over her own sensitive flesh.

Obligingly, and obediently, he began to use his mouth on her, rubbing his lips against her folds, sticking his tongue out to lap and slurp.

"Oh fuck yes," she gasped, and lapsed into incoherence as his hands moved to her nipples and rubbed them, pinching slightly, while his tongue found its way into her and moved around like a questing appendage.

She almost wept. Nothing she had ever experienced before came close to this pleasure. No foe she had ever conquered before had been this strong. No fruits of victory had ever tasted so sweet.

And so she came, gushing and shuddering, coughing and gasping, moaning and whimpering. Her juices mixed with his all over his face and her legs. The spasms of pleasure overwhelmed her whole body and her arms fell to the sides, her fists clenching and unclenching uncontrollably. She rode his face, bucking atop him, wanting to draw it out for as long as possible.

Finally she slumped, after almost twenty seconds. But before the euphoria fully faded, she wriggled down the length of his body, until she felt and saw his massive member, still erect, sliding between her pussy lips. The sight of it appearing to emerge from her loins made her cry out with sheer unbridled lust. She took hold of it and shoved it into her, twisting her pelvis to adjust, letting as much of it as possible enter.

It filled her up so well. Again, she could not take in all of it, but she moaned and did her best to fit it in as snugly as she could. Francis moaned as well, and reached towards her chest again, but she intercepted his hands and laced fingers with him. In this mock-wrestling position, she began to ride him, spreading her legs wide and to the side, doing a split and showing her flexibility.

"Rematch, Francis," she hissed. "For last night. My pussy, your cock. This time I'll win."

Still holding on to his hands, she raised her arms up in a V, so that every muscle on her body and limbs stood out in glorious definition. She locked eyes with Francis, then began to pulse her vaginal walls, squeezing and clenching rhythmically with her pussy.

Francis made a choking sound. He began to make an urgent bucking motion with his hips. Jenny began to feel as if she were riding a wild brahmin or giant molerat.

"Ohhh... you..." she gasped. In her position, and with his size, her most sensitive spots were being hit. She was setting herself up to lose this contest -- she was about to cum again. Trying her level best to milk an orgasm out of him, Jenny began gyrating her hips wildly. She saw his eyes being drawn to the rippling of her abdomen.

"Come on... come on... cum..." she groaned. Their panting grew louder and louder. She closed her eyes, trying her uttermost to quell the surges of pleasure wracking her body. Every moment was getting harder. She could feel that in mere seconds, her body would betray her.

Then she felt him shudder, and then he came -- the hard spurts of his ejaculation were inside her. She gave vent to a scream of victory and ecstasy, and threw her head back, arching her spine, finally surrendering to the sensations of pleasure. The tremors caused her entire body to jerk like a puppet together with Francis in a nearly simultaneous orgasm.

And finally, it was over. She stood up slowly, feeling the suction as Francis's cock slipped out of her. The cum immediately began flowing out in a warm trickle down her inner thighs. Her whole body trembled as she stood. She felt so alive -- exhausted, but exhilarated. Putting a foot at the base of Francis's penis, she nudged it forward, letting it fall atop his lower abdomen.

"Oh no... don't be getting any ideas there now..." Francis murmured, his brow creased with worry.

Jenny paid him no mind, but continued using her foot and toes to stroke his slick shaft, enjoying the feeling of power she was exercising over his cock. She flexed her arms again and smirked, stepping on his manhood, keeping it subdued, controlling him. Francis just gazed, and she saw an expression on his face that one did not expect to see very often on a super mutant's face at all.

Awe. Wonder. Respect.

Jenny smiled. Stepping off him and dropping her victory pose, she reached down with an arm, and almost lost her balance when she tried to pull him up.

"Whoa! Steady there," Francis exclaimed, when she stumbled forward.

Jenny looked up at him, clutching him for balance, and then began laughing ruefully.

"You're one of a kind, Jenny, but you humans are just too small and fragile," he chuckled. "Hey, how long's it been? You're going to feel the Buffout crash soon. I got some drinks in my freezer. Help yourself."

"A freezer? You sure are spoiled down here," Jenny remarked.

"Sure is good to have a power plant right here in the town," he nodded. "Even the bath's working. Yes, that's right. I got a rudimentary system rigged up. Isn't exactly running water, but close enough. Water might be slightly irradiated though, since it comes from underground streams around here, but we've all been fine all this time. Make yourself at home. I gotta... go see to something. Be back later."

After a drink and a shower -- what luxury, to be enjoyed in the middle of the wasteland -- Jenny let herself collapse onto the spacious bed. Her muscles ached, as they extracted a toll for all she had put them through. It was about right -- the Buffout was wearing off soon. She would have to sleep it off and hopefully be back in adequate fighting trim on the morrow.

Francis was growing on her. She never expected she would enjoy sex with a man so much, let alone a super mutant. With Patty it had been different -- a woman always had a better sense than a man of what another woman might want, and in their particular case, they had similar kinks as well. Jenny smiled at the fond memories of her and Patty, taking turns to be the dominant woman, touching each other in all the right places...

... she awoke. She had nodded off, and it was complete darkness inside the room. She felt incredibly tired and sleepy -- but wait, what was that sound?

Then the door burst open.

She sat bolt upright, her abdominal muscles hurting as she did so. "Francis? Is that..."

A damp cloth was clamped over her mouth. She smelled something strange, and she grew dizzy. Before she passed out, she managed to make out faint shapes of two or three human-sized individuals within the room...



Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 03



 [This story is set in the universe of the game Fallout 2. Any locations, NPCs and other in-game concepts are all the intellectual property of the original creators. No infringement is intended. If you don't like the idea of "tampering" with the game lore, don't read.]

[This story has a muscular female protagonist who likes it rough, and has some very specialized kinks. If this kind of stuff is not to your liking, don't read.]

[I like muscles. I especially like women with muscles. If you don't like that, don't read.] 

*

Consciousness slowly returned, and with it, a sensation of drowsiness and fatigue.

"Yep, right on time," came a familiar voice.

"Of course. I am never wrong with my dosages," a male voice spoke, sounding miffed.

Jenny groaned softly as she opened her eyes. The lighting was dim, so it didn't hurt to do that. Experimentally, she wriggled her extremities, and quickly discovered that her wrists and ankles had been bound, and that she was currently suspended from the rafters in some sort of basement. Her feet were an inch or so from the ground, as far as she could tell.

"Whoa, steady on there," Liz said, coming into view. She stood in front of Jenny, looking up, smirking as usual, her lascivious gaze travelling up and down the length of Jenny's naked body.

Behind Liz, there were two others -- Jenny recognized them as Jacob the chemist, and his wife Aileen, from her brief encounter with them at the saloon. They were looking at her none too kindly. Jacob had a stained lab coat on, and he had discolored hands. Aileen's hands were similarly stained, seemingly from long hours spent mixing chemicals together with her husband. She looked like the perfect American housewife from before the War, but with a certain toughness to her personality.

"Damn mutie-lover," she said, with a sneer of her pretty lips.

Jacob said nothing, but the way his eyes travelled up and down Jenny's body spoke volumes.

"What do you want with me, Liz?" Jenny growled. She swayed as she tested her bonds. No use -- the knots were tight.

Liz stepped closer and put a hand on Jenny's ridged abs, running her fingers over them admiringly. Jenny's flesh crawled, but there was nothing she could do.

"Mmm... that Francis was right, you're a really sweet piece of meat," she chuckled. "How did you get this way? Are you a mutant yourself? Some new strain, passes for human, but actually no different from those green warty bastards?"

"That would be impossible, as I have told you many times before," Jacob said testily from where he stood. His voice was thin and reedy, and grated on Jenny's ear. "The FEV is actually present in all of us in minute but negligible quantities, thanks to that big explosion all those years back. In us humans, it has absolutely no discernible effect. There is no in-between stage of mutation -- you are either a human, like us, or a mutant. Jenny here is simply a genetic aberration -- she is exceptionally well-muscled and she will remain so despite the chronic malnutrition that most people of our time endure all their lives."

"Well, that's quite a blessing for you, Jenny," Liz said, taking hold of Jenny's breasts and fondling them. "Be a shame to only let dirty muties enjoy your body, wouldn't it..."

"Take your stinking hands off me, you damn dirty bitch!" Jenny spat.

Liz's eyes narrowed. Her forefingers and thumbs closed around Jenny's nipples. She began to squeeze. Jenny sucked in her breath.

Watching Jenny's eyes closely, Liz began to twist and pinch Jenny's nipples, with slowly increasing force. Jenny bit her lip. She resolved not to scream in pain -- she would not give Liz that satisfaction.

She began to tremble and jerk all over, as the pain continued without surfeit. Liz also dug in her sharp fingers into Jenny's tender breast flesh.

"C'mon, Jenny... scream for me. I want to hear you scream," she whispered hoarsely, as she clawed and pinched Jenny's soft, vulnerable mammaries. "All your muscles not much use now, huh? You're still gonna be my bitch."

"Hnnnnggg..." It was getting harder and harder. Jenny's eyes started to tear, but she held Liz's cruel gaze, staring back defiantly. She wriggled and twitched, jerking with involuntary spasms, as she grimly endured the pain. She expelled her breath in gusts, and sucked it in through her teeth. She choked and coughed. She grunted low and long. But she did not scream.

"Damn it..." Liz hissed, finally breaking off her attack. Jenny blinked, feeling the tears run down her cheeks. Her body was now covered in sweat, she realized, and she was still trembling. But her lips turned up slightly at the corners. She had not screamed.

Jacob and Aileen clearly looked excited. Aileen was touching Jacob's crotch, and Jacob looked positively feverish. They were nuzzling each other while fixing their gazes on Liz's torture of Jenny.

"Let me go, Liz. You won't get away with this," Jenny tried.

"Oh please." Liz rolled her eyes. "We got you completely at our mercy, and this is what you say?"

"I..." Jenny was speechless. She became cognizant of the situation she was in. She was trussed up, helpless to move, let alone fight back. Moreover, she was still not completely over the Buffout crash -- she was of only average strength right now.

As if reading her mind, Liz added, "And what's more, you're still feeling weak, ain't you? The crash from Buffout lasts a good long time, it does. Why, I'll bet I could take you out right now, 'champ'. Want to go a few rounds?"

Laughing, she stripped off her shirt and threw it aside. She cut a solid, chunky thick-waisted figure, and she had generous breasts that sat a bit low on her chest. Her shoulders and arms looked capable of a fair bit of heavy lifting, which was probably exactly what she did as the owner of the general store. Quickly sizing her up with experienced eyes, Jenny realized that Liz was quite strong in her own way.

"Oh let's go," Jenny said, seeing a chance to get free. "Let's have a fight, right here. You think you can take me? Come on then, let's see who's tougher," she goaded.

"Oh, don't be in such a hurry," Liz drawled, stripping her pants off. Now she was wearing only a pair of loose, comfortable panties. "I've had my eye on you ever since I saw you," she went on, cracking her knuckles. Aileen and Jacob were frantically undressing by now, their eyes afire with voyeuristic pleasure. "And you know, first thought I had was, now there's a strong-looking gal. Looks like she could totally fuck me up. And my second thought was, I wonder if I'd get a chance to fuck her up."

Liz stepped back slightly, cocking her head, appraising Jenny's body. "Because, you know, that's how I get off. Ask them -- they know."

With a sinking heart, Jenny realized that Liz meant to use her as a human punching bag!

"What's the matter? Afraid of a fair fight? So weak that you have to tie me up before you can go a few rounds with me? I'm kicking your ass before we even start," Jenny said in the most insulting tone she could muster.

"Who gives a fuck about fair fighting?" Liz grinned. "Oh you'll get a chance, never fear. I'm just gonna... warm up first, you know? You're a professional prize fighter, you, little old me, I just have to get into the rhythm of it first. You gotta give me a chance to do that, right? Then, we'll let you down and you and me, we go a few rounds, see how long you last against me. Nothing unfair in that. Heh heh heh."

Liz adopted a sloppy boxer's stance, putting her fists up and waddling towards Jenny in a flat-footed style. Jenny tensed her abs, getting ready to breathe out -- if Liz went for body shots, Jenny knew she had to do that to minimize the damage. She could only hope Liz didn't go for her unprotected face or jaw. But she knew her breasts were tempting targets that Liz would not ignore. All she could do was to try and withstand the punishment.

Closer and closer Liz came. Then, she threw a big roundhouse haymaker that Jenny would have been able to see coming a mile away, if they had been in a ring. As it was, Jenny could do nothing except tense up her muscles to resist. Liz's fist thudded painfully against Jenny's abs, with the meaty smack of flesh against flesh.

Jenny grunted and her body swayed. Liz looked disgruntled at not getting more of a reaction, and she stepped in, this time driving a right uppercut directly into Jenny's belly. Jenny folded with the impact and her breath came out in a whoosh. Her eyes watered.

"That's better," Liz whispered into Jenny's ear. Jenny knew her ordeal was just beginning.

Liz began to dance around Jenny, as if she were in a real fight. Her left fist smacked repeatedly into Jenny's breasts as she jabbed. Then she sent her fist crashing into Jenny's side. Jenny's obliques were well-developed, but even so, she felt the painful impact. Then Liz went behind her, out of her field of vision, and landed some more punches on her lower back, causing Jenny to arch in pain.

All the while, Aileen and Jacob got more hot and heavy with their fondling, until Jacob roughly bent Aileen over, and got behind his wife. He rammed his rod into her, holding on to her wrists, riding her like a wheelbarrow. Aileen kept her face tilted up, and her mouth opened in an "O" of pleasure as she met Jenny's gaze.

For the next half hour or so, Jenny endured this torture as best as she could. A few punches landed on her face, so that she had a black eye and a swollen cheek, and bleeding lips. Bruises appeared all over her sore, aching body. She was moaning and gasping with pain, unable to remain silent and stoic under Liz's determined, continual pummeling. Somewhere along the line, Jacob reached orgasm, shot his load into his wife, and went to slump on a chair, exhausted. Unsatisfied, Aileen continued fingering herself while watching the spectacle.

Finally, Liz stepped back, breathing hard and sweating heavily all over. Her pumped muscles swelled over her entire body, giving her a very strong, stocky look. Even the rolls of fat over her abdomen gleamed with some abdominal definition after her hard workout. Jenny could only sway, her body shuddering slightly, while Liz went to strike up a biceps pose in front of Aileen, who moaned and touched Liz all over.

"Oh, babe, you're so strong," she declared. "You really showed that muscle bitch."

"I ain't showed her nothing yet," Liz boasted. "I'm going to take a break for a while. She's all yours, Aileen. Hey, Jacob, you got your tool up yet?"

Jacob rubbed his small erection with a look of discomfort. "Still... still need some more time," he muttered.

"Oh don't bother with him, Liz honey," Aileen waved dismissively. "He's only ever good for one a night, if that. Not even his special drug can change that."

Liz laughed, ignoring Jacob's protestations. Aileen stepped closer to Jenny, with a challenging look in her pretty blue eyes. Jenny raised her head slowly, sweat flowing down from her brow, wondering what Aileen intended.

Aileen reached in between Jenny's legs, finding her moist mound -- and gasped with delight to find that it was dripping wet.

"Liz, look -- she loved it!" she crowed, holding up her fingers for Liz and Jacob to see.

"Why, so she did," Liz nodded, smirking away. "Explains a lot. Like, how she could stand to be with that mutie bastard, for one thing. She must get off on pain. Makes her the perfect match for me, since I get off on just the opposite side," she chuckled.

"You're going to let her down and box with her, right? Let me soften her up for you, sugar. I mean, in my own special way," Aileen's eyes glittered with sadistic malice.

"You go right ahead, Aileen. She can't resist your special skills," Liz laughed approvingly. "Jacob, that ought to get you hard and ready again, or nothing will. You never get tired of Aileen and me going at it, right? Now look at what your sugarbabe is doing to this bitch here."

Jacob was starting to stroke himself again, watching Aileen and Jenny avidly.

Jenny bit her lip. It was true... it was a secret only Pounding Patty, her fellow woman boxer back in New Reno, had ever discovered: she got turned on by pain. The pain and pleasure centers in her brain had somehow gotten their wires crossed or something. Not all pain was pleasure, but what she had just gone through with Liz was something that her body actually responded to as sexual stimulation.

"No... I won't... you won't make me," she gasped defiantly.

"Watch me." Aileen cupped Jenny's breasts, and she went to work.

Her lips enfolded Jenny's nipples, and her tongue swirled around them. Her strong fingers kneaded Jenny's breasts. She traced patterns around just the right places on Jenny's lower back. Her breath was hot against Jenny's neck. When she suddenly raked her fingers hard down Jenny's back, Jenny could not resist responding with a scream of pure pleasure.

"Oh she really does love it," Liz cried, while Jacob remained engaged in his private struggle to stay hard.

Jenny meanwhile was getting betrayed by her body. Despite the dull throbbing pain, thanks to Liz's less-than-tender ministrations, pulses of pleasure were washing all through her. She was leaking down below -- she could feel some small amount of liquid start to flow out of her and down her inner thighs. Within, she was clenching and unclenching spasmodically.

"No... no..." she thought to herself, semi-coherently.

She sucked in deep breaths, attempting to slow down her pulse and put a damper on her arousal. She tried to put in a mental block -- thinking about how odious these people were, how infuriating that they stole into Francis's house to kidnap her, and how she had to escape somehow.

But the elements that made her turned on were present -- the feeling of being overwhelmed and dominated (which had been her secret kink for as long as she could remember), the sight of Liz's brawny, stocky physique, and even the sadistic quirk of Aileen's lips. And Aileen was very skillful.

Try as she might, she could not hold back. When Aileen gazed deep into her eyes while probing Jenny's anus slyly with a finger, Jenny gave a long shuddering moan. Aileen then stuck her thumb into Jenny's dripping pussy, and slowly coaxed Jenny's other hole open, until she could gently push a digit inside.

Jenny came. She shook and shivered all over, twisting this way and that. She was putty in the mature Aileen's experienced hands. Aileen drew out Jenny's surrender, licking and flicking, twisting and pinching, stroking and scratching, until the basement was filled with Jenny's uncontrollable moans and screams of forced ecstasy.

At last, Aileen stepped back, her face and torso flushed, her hands coated in Jenny's juices. Jenny slumped, her head lolling, her cheeks burning with chagrin. Aileen had managed to drain what little was left of Jenny's energy. Jenny was sore, aching and bruised all over, and her wrists and ankles were chafed.

Meanwhile, Liz had fingered herself to a comfortable orgasm at her own pace, so she still appeared energetic. "Ready for our bout now, champ?" she called out mockingly. "You win, you go free. You lose, you stay here as our slave for as long as you can last. Alright, give them to me, Jacob. Let her down, Aileen."

While Aileen loosed Jenny's bindings, Jacob took out some tablets from a drawer and handed them to Liz. Jenny's feet touched the ground as the rope tying her to the rafters was untied, and she stumbled, her legs almost buckling. As she rubbed her wrists, she watched Liz toss the tablets into her mouth and swallow.

"Mm, mm," Liz smiled, licking her lips in an exaggerated fashion. "I just love the taste of Buffout in the morning."

Jenny's heart sank. Liz struck up a muscle pose, and waited. The changes were not long in coming. Before Jenny's eyes, Liz's pudgy body became transformed into a formidable hunk of muscle. Her muscle definition improved visibly, and her already thick shoulders became slabs of solid flesh. Her abdomen became a ridged column of visible power.

"Ohhh, what a rush," Liz moaned. "My favorite chem, this." She shadow-boxed a few times, and her fists whooshed through the air with more force than before. "Now... let me teach you a lesson or two about taking advantage of other people's trust and kindness," she snarled, stepping forward.

Jenny stepped back, putting up her tired arms in a guard and dropping into a crouch. To her practiced eye, Liz was still unskilled, but right now, the discrepancy between their strength, endurance and reflexes was far too much. This was possibly the hardest boxing match she had ever had to fight. How could she win?

On the plus side, she was feeling a bit of a rush herself. The orgasm had left her drained, but slowly, she realized the pains and aches were fading into the background of her awareness. She was far from being in the best of conditions at the moment, but she forced herself to get ready to fight. She knew she had little choice. Even if she beat the muscled-up Liz, there were still the two others to handle. As far as she could tell, no help was coming -- she was on her own.

Liz began advancing, her stance careless, her guard low and sloppy. She had a big foolish grin on her face.

"When I'm done beating you up, I'm going to put on one of them devices they used to have," she sniggered. "Bet it'll fit snugly inside you, since you've already been filled by mutant cock."

Jenny just stayed silent, breathing quickly but deeply, to increase her oxygen intake. Bare-knuckle boxing was altogether more dangerous than gloved boxing, and involved slightly different tactics. All the more she could not afford to slip up. Her normal style was to move in, and use her strength to pound away at her opponent -- she could outmuscle every male boxer but one in New Reno's Jungle Gym this way. 

But with current circumstances, she had to be wilier. Looking at Liz's swelling, veined muscles, she knew she couldn't win in a contest of outright strength.

Liz threw the first punch -- another of her clumsy haymakers. Still, it was surprisingly fast -- Jenny barely dodged back in time, and it missed her nose by a whisker. Liz followed up with another one from her left, and this one clipped Jenny's guard by a bit, hitting her forearms. Jenny circled away as quickly as she could, trying to see if Liz led with her right or her left. 

Aileen and Jacob were leaning against a desk at the side, cheering for their compatriot. "C'mon, beat the mutie-lover down," yelled Aileen.

"Give her a good beating for the sake of real humans everywhere," Jacob declared pompously.

Liz came after Jenny like a charging bull, swinging careless lefts and rights. Jenny dodged and blocked as best as she could, though swaying made her bruised and battered trunk muscles protest. She couldn't avoid every blow -- Liz landed some heavy punches on her torso that made her gasp with pain. The ones that hit her breasts were especially agonizing. She guarded as best as she could, but Liz threw some uppercuts too, which hit the underside of her breasts. 

She began to get a feel for Liz's rhythm, such as it was. As far as she could tell, Liz was a right-hander. That was good -- Jenny didn't like fighting southpaws. Liz was a brutish fighter, and she telegraphed most of her punches. Jenny began to feel that she could win this. If she could endure what Liz had to deliver, and wait out the onslaught until Liz began to tire somewhat, she could capitalize on an opening and go in for the knockout.

Jenny began to parry some of Liz's straight punches, even though it was harder without gloves. This only seemed to enrage Liz more, and she advanced more quickly and recklessly -- just as Jenny had hoped.

She went on the attack suddenly. After swaying away from a right haymaker, Jenny suddenly leaned in and jabbed with her left. It clipped Liz on the cheek, and as expected Liz instinctively flinched away from the blow. With a quick movement -- and a stab of pain in her trunk that made her gasp -- Jenny moved in and locked her right arm together with Liz's, effectively grabbing on to her and preventing any more attacks for the time being.




Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 03



Liz roared with anger and attempted to twist free, but Jenny expertly held the lock. The two women flailed about, making droplets of their sweat fly around and land on each other. Jenny moved in so far that her elbow was at the back of Liz's head, and she used her meaty shoulder and the side of her face to clamp Liz's arm firmly in place. After a while, Liz tried to hook Jenny's leg, but Jenny was canny and avoided being tripped up.

Aileen and Jacob were vocal about their displeasure. "Beat that bitch!" they hollered.

"Fuck you! Fight me properly, bitch!" Liz spat as they staggered around in half-circles.

Jenny didn't reply -- it was extremely difficult to hold on to Liz. The difference in their strength could now be felt -- Jenny knew if they were to wrestle or arm wrestle now, she would lose to Liz for sure. Quickly, she decided on her next tactic.

She released the clinch maneuver quickly, so that Liz momentarily overbalanced. Then, she swung around as quickly as she could to land a left hook on the back of Liz's head -- a rabbit punch. She could not get enough force into it, however, with the swing of her hips, and the resultant blow staggered Liz somewhat, but didn't send the ugly shopkeeper crashing to the floor.

Jenny stepped away to gain space, breathing hard. Liz rubbed the back of her head as she straightened, wincing. A look of rage came over her face.

"Grraaaggh!" she growled with primal ferocity as she charged at Jenny, her fists bunched up.

Jenny waited until the last split-second, then suddenly shifted her left foot back, pivoting her body. Her right fist was cocked, and the muscles of her right arm were bunched in readiness, flexed as hard as she could flex them. Liz's right fist hit Jenny's face with a glancing blow -- Jenny's right fist smashed full into the side of Liz's jaw. Jenny had used her opponent's momentum against her, and compounded it with the force she generated herself by twisting her body. Her hard fists were used to the impact, but even so, she still felt the sting of pain in her knuckles.

Liz went flying. Her body spun all the way around as she flew to Jenny's left, and she landed flat on her back and went still.

There was silence, except for Jenny's heavy breathing. Jacob and Aileen stood, open-mouthed. Jenny moved her fingers experimentally -- good, she thought, nothing broken. That had been a quicker bout than she'd expected -- Liz had been careless enough to fall for each one of Jenny's baits and tricks. The rush from the Buffout had really gone to her head, it seemed.

Jenny took a step forward, and stood over her fallen opponent. Liz's muscled form was spread-eagled, and she turned her head from side to side slowly, moaning softly as she did so. Staring straight at Jacob and Aileen, Jenny planted a foot square in between Liz's gently heaving breasts, and raised her strong arms straight up in the air in victory.

Aileen was the first to bolt. Jacob was staring, slack-jawed, his hand wandering over to his crotch and his rising erection. Aileen went for the door, but had to stop and grab her husband by the arm, hissing at him in anger and panic, before dragging him out.

Not much solidarity in this particular conspiracy, Jenny thought to herself, grinning mirthlessly. She looked down at Liz, who was blinking dazedly. When she realized that Jenny was standing on her, in a posture of triumph, her eyes widened. Her hands went up reflexively to cover her face.

"No... no..." she whimpered. "Enough... you win..."

Jenny shook her head in disdain. When it came right down to it, Liz and her fellow mutant-haters were nothing but cowardly bullies, after all. She took her foot off Liz, stood to the side, and extended an arm.

Liz looked at her hand in some confusion, then cautiously reached out to take it. Jenny's expression was unreadable. Then a flash of craftiness came into Liz's eyes, and she tugged hard, trying to overbalance Jenny.

But Jenny had seen that coming from a mile away, and instead of tumbling over she went behind Liz's back in a flash, with the benefit of her honed footwork. She twisted Liz's right arm up behind her back painfully, while her left arm snaked around Liz's throat. She now had Liz in a sleeper hold and hammerlock combination, with Liz in a sitting position.

"Time for you to take a long nap, Liz," she whispered into Liz's ear.

Liz had grabbed on to Jenny's left forearm in a panic, and now she was trying to rise somehow to her feet. Jenny took a deep breath, and flexed her arm as hard she could. Her biceps and forearm dug into Liz's neck as she squeezed. She had choked out fully-grown men -- some of Mordino's goons back in New Reno -- within seconds. 

Twenty seconds passed -- and Jenny realized Liz was still not out. She had turned red-faced as she struggled, but she was still fighting to break the hold.

"Oh, shit," Jenny thought to herself with dismay. She had underestimated the effects of the Buffout -- it had increased Liz's stamina and blood-oxygen levels. Moreover, Liz was tensing her beefed-up neck muscles to resist the squeezing pressure of Jenny's weakened and tired arm. She was pulling relentlessly at Jenny's arm too with her own, and she was starting to get a better grip. Her fingers tightened around Jenny's wrist, and she began to pull, her left arm against Jenny's.

Jenny groaned, and jerked hard on Liz's right arm, pulling it up higher. Liz hissed in pain, but Buffout also increased pain resistance to some degree. Both women realized right there that the fight was not over yet. If Liz could outlast Jenny's depleted strength and break out of the hold, she could probably turn the tables. Jenny had to somehow outmuscle Liz and knock her out with the sleeper hold.

And what if Jacob and Aileen, or even one of them, were to return? Jenny felt rising anxiety. Time was not on her side. She had to put out Liz's lights quickly, or she would suffer for it.

The contest of strength and endurance went on. Liz pulled with such strength on Jenny's arm, using her triceps and her lats, that Jenny's forearm was straightened out quite far, reducing the amount of pressure she could bring to bear against Liz's neck. Tears of effort were squeezed from Jenny's eyes as she desperately flexed her left biceps to counter, to keep the pressure on.

She had levered Liz's right arm up as high as it could go, and while normally it would be excruciating pain for anyone, Liz was seemingly able to withstand it without too much ill-effect. Jenny wondered if she should let go of Liz's right arm and use both her arms to slap on the sleeper, but allowing Liz the added mobility of both arms would be too risky. She could use her right arm in a variety of ways to gain further advantage -- she could pit both her arms against Jenny's, for example, which would see Jenny on the losing end for sure. Or she could brace better against the floor, and get to her feet, which would be disastrous.

No, this was all she could do -- her left arm had to prevail.

"C'mon, Jenny... you can do this..." she thought to herself.

The struggle wore on. Both women strained their rippling muscles to their utmost. Jenny managed to hold her arm in place for what seemed an interminable time, but Liz gave a hoarse growl and a surge of effort, and Jenny felt her left arm pulled out even more. She was on the verge of having her choke hold broken.

"Give... it up... you... can't win..." Liz managed to croak, a clear sign that the pressure on her windpipe was easing and she could draw enough breath to speak, if only barely.

Jenny could only close her eyes and keep flexing. A sob of effort escaped her lips. Her left arm trembled and shook. Her muscles screamed for mercy, which she could not give.

The moments passed, agonizingly slow.

Then, bit by bit, Jenny felt Liz's strength flag. The end was so near; she forced herself to ignore the growing cramps in her left arm. The pain was creeping up her shoulder too. How much longer could she hold?

"I can do this... I can do this..." Without being fully aware of it, she was now chanting this mantra aloud to herself.

Then, finally, Liz's left arm fell to her side, limp. Jenny held on for as long as she could, to make sure. Finally she could do absolutely no more, and she stepped back, releasing the hold, letting her sore left arm hang down as well. Liz flopped over backwards, and lay still.

She had done it. Jenny almost wept with relief. Liz was out cold. Jenny slumped to the floor, gulping air like a drowning woman.

When she was recovered, she hunted around the room, and gratefully jammed the few stimpacks she could find into her thigh. Her injuries washed away, and her fatigue lessened drastically, though she was still coming out of the Buffout crash. She had no notion of the time -- but it felt as if it would only be a few hours more before she regained her full strength.

She had to get out. Had the wicked couple thought to bar the trapdoor as they left? Why had they not returned to check on their friend -- were they too afraid of what Jenny might be doing in revenge?

The trapdoor was unbarred. No one was around. Outside, the sky was still dark.

Jenny stood outside the house -- it was the back of the drugstore -- and took a moment to collect herself. Then, naked, she set off to find Francis.

No one else was around -- in the east, she could see the glimmering light of the pre-dawn. That meant approximately 9 hours had passed since she took the Buffout. She sighed, feeling the ache and the persistent fatigue in her muscles. That meant about 9 more hours to go before her body could function as normal again. She hated this part about chems, which was why she normally stayed off them entirely.

"Master in a Vat, what happened to you?" Francis exclaimed as she approached his doorstep. She was lucky that the layout of Broken Hills was relatively uncomplicated -- she had used the cacti growing around the place as landmarks. She smiled and waved in Francis's direction as the big super mutant jumped to his feet, where he had been sitting on his porch.

"I got kidnapped," she told him. The incredulous Francis quickly ushered her indoors -- several townsfolk were already getting ready to start their day, most of them heading in the direction of the mines, and they were casting curious looks in her direction.

Inside, while she rested with food and drink, she related the events of the past few hours. The expression on Francis's face darkened by the minute. At the end, he growled, "I hope you enjoyed choking out that bitch."

"Oh, don't worry, I did," Jenny hastened to assure him.

He stood up, pacing around the small kitchen, seeming to fill up the whole space. "There's a bunch of them. Been around for a while now. I told ol' Marcus, we should just bust them up, ain't good to have them running around doing who knows what. But he just keeps on about his 'rule of law' and all that. We even got a couple of them in jail, you know. Plotting to blow up the mine's air purifier or something. Marcus took them in when we -- that's me and Zaius, the mine foreman -- when we showed him the evidence. But barring that, there ain't no budging that stubborn ol' fella."

He stopped. "I say we go to Marcus right now, and at least tell him what just happened to you. I won't stand for it -- they broke into my damn house, they did."

"Yeah... just as soon as I get dressed..." Jenny stood up, and winced.

Francis watched her astutely. "Buffout crash, huh," he grunted. "How much longer?"

"About 8 or 9 hours," she said.

"Well, don't forget your glove before you leave. You earned it, but you're still paying for it, looks like," Francis chuckled, and Jenny laughed with him. She was relieved to be here again, talking to him -- she was glad just to be alive.

They shared a hug -- warm, affectionate, a little more than comradely and a little less than romantic, like the hugs she used to share sometimes with the nicer male boxers back in New Reno. It was the kind of hug that said they respected each other for being sparring partners and strong opponents, but also held the inescapable awareness that her sex was different, and that there were erotic undertones to their relationship. 

Jenny put on her Power Fist, and worked the fingers experimentally. It really did feel good.

"I want to see you punch out Liz's ugly teeth with that thing," Francis mused. "And that Jacob too, and his bitch Aileen. They got a lotta things coming to them... a lotta things."

Marcus wasn't in a good mood.

"Know anything about the caravan records?" was the first thing he asked Jenny when the two of them stepped into his office. He looked extremely irritable. "Bah, paperwork just ain't my thing," he said, throwing down some sheets of paper he had been holding. "Bill's been on my case, asking me for help, but I told him I can't do a damn thing about it, I don't even know what's going on. Do you?"

"Erm," Jenny replied, taken aback by Marcus's direct query, "No, not as such. I don't, uh, I don't handle the paperwork, we let Bill take care of all that. Why, is something wrong?"

"We don't have time for this, old boy," Francis broke in. "You gotta hear her story, Marcus. And then you and me, we're gonna go put away some jerks who've got it coming for a long, long time."

"Whoa, slow down. Take it from the top. What's this about?"

When they had finished telling him, Marcus leaned back with a pained look on his face. His chair creaked.

"Jenny, first thing I got to say is, I believe you, okay?"

Jenny sighed. That was not a good sign. She hadn't known what to expect, but this wasn't really a surprise.

"But... look, I just don't have enough proof to be going on. You're a decent person, but to most of the town, you're that buff gal who's got a thing for Francis. They admire you -- I wish I could've been there to see you do the impossible -- but that's not exactly a respectable reputation, is it? Whereas..."

"There's no 'whereas'!" Francis broke in, exasperated.

"Whereas," Marcus continued patiently and unflappably, "Liz is the fine, upstanding owner of our only General Store. Jacob is the town chemist who performs a valuable service, running his drug store. Aileen is his loyal and faithful wife who assists him in the lab, and is always ready with a kind smile and a slice of home-made Brahmin pie for the neighbor's kids." Marcus's voice had taken on a singsong sarcastic quality while saying those things, so Jenny knew what he really felt about them. "Of course, the neighbors better be pure human, but it's a big leap to go from that to saying she's a mutant hater."

"For the Master's sake, Marcus, you damn well know she is," Francis exclaimed, hands tearing at the tufts of hair on his head. "And you know the whole lot of them are in cahoots, you got Manson and that other guy locked up, don't you?"

"I don't know a damn thing but what I gotta know as the Sheriff of this town," Marcus shot back, "and being that means I have to keep the damn peace, and that's not something I can do if I take the word of a part-time caravan guard from out of town who's got a penchant for baring her chest, over what I'm sure is gonna be the united and strenuous testimony of three of our most prominent citizens!"

Marcus heaved a deep sigh. "You picked the wrong people to get tangled with, Jenny, that's all I can say," he told her. "Someday, I really want to put them away, but if I do it without stronger evidence than just your story, whatever Jacob says about me -- and yes, I do know what he says -- is just gonna be taken as true after all, see? I can't be seen to act like a tyrant. Not for the greater good. And, unfortunately, not for your personal good."

Jenny slowly nodded. "I understand, Marcus," she said. She laid a hand on Francis's forearm to quiet his sounds of protest. "You're absolutely right. I know how it must look. Besides, I did get to dish out some payback on my own. I think it's best for everyone if I simply go on my way, and next time I swing by, I'll just stay with the rest of the caravan guards as much as I can. Maybe I'll go hang out with the Unity Patrol," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"You should join the Unity Patrol," Francis grumbled. "All peace and love and brotherhood. All that's fine and dandy, until the bastards decide it ain't. But even then, looks like we gotta swallow it and smile, huh?"

Marcus looked at Jenny. "We lost most of the reasons to feel petty things like envy, hatred or bitterness when we became what we are," he said softly, "but that doesn't mean we don't still get reasons to feel bitter about this or that. I'm giving you all the credit in the world for being the bigger person about this. I give you my solemn promise, too -- I'm going to keep my eye on those three. And the next time something happens, and I lay my hands on the proof I need, I'm going to put them away for a good, long time, for your sake too."

"Next time something happens, we may all be dead, lying at the bottom of the mines with the radscorpions and the ants," Francis muttered.

"Your caravan leaves tomorrow?" Marcus asked, pointedly ignoring his fellow mutant.

"Yeah... tomorrow morning."

"Stay outta trouble. Keep to the caravan office. And don't show up at Phil's," Marcus told her brusquely.

"Hey, that ain't fair," Francis complained.

"Ain't nothing about fair, it's about being wise," Marcus said. "Don't let them get another shot at you. Liz isn't gonna be happy about what you did to her, especially. Just keep your head down until it's blown over. I don't want any trouble involving you. Or you, Francis," he added sharply. "Do we have an agreement?"

"Yes, we do," Jenny answered quickly, before Francis could interject again. "Thanks for everything, Marcus. C'mon, Francis, let's go. You can walk me back to the caravan office down the road."

"While you're there, tell Bill I really need to talk to Chad," Marcus called out as they left the building.

Liz's general store was still closed, Jenny couldn't help noticing. She smiled grimly to herself. With any luck, Liz was going to be out for a long time, what with the effect of being choked out by Jenny, coupled with the Buffout crash.

Beside her, Francis was silent, until they reached the entrance of the caravan office. Then he spoke up. "I'm real sorry about this, Jenny," he said. "Shouldn't have to happen to a fine, one-of-a-kind lady like you. Too bad about Marcus being a tightass, too."

Jenny grabbed his hand. "Francis, I want you to promise me something," she told him as seriously as she could. "You are not to go after any of the three of them, not over this. I don't want this to escalate. I got all the revenge I need, I don't want you all to keep trading reprisals. Don't get into trouble on my account. Promise me."

Francis gingerly disengaged his fingers. Jenny looked down, and gave a start.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot I had this on, and I don't know yet how much it -- are your fingers okay?" she blurted, quickly withdrawing her hand with the Power Fist on it.

"Yeah, yeah... it's alright, nothing major," Francis said, rubbing his fingers. "Just a bit bruised, but it'll heal right up in a few minutes. Don't worry. And, yeah, okay. If you say so. No escalation."

Jenny smiled. "Someday we'll get them back, but we'll do it Marcus's way. Best all round for all of us."

"Yeah." Francis stuck out his hand again, this time for a handshake. "Guess I won't see you anymore until the next time you swing by again. Till then, Jenny. Look me up again."

"I sure will," Jenny said warmly, slipping off her shiny new Fist. She reached out and hooked her thumb with Francis to give a handshake with an arm wrestling grip.

"You put that Fist to good use now," Francis told her. "I know that nobody else could make better use of it than you."




Beat Francis at Arm Wrestling Pt. 03



Jenny chuckled. "There's a woman and a man back in New Reno who'd both disagree," she said. "I got scores to settle back there, and I won't stop until I'm champion of the whole damn city."

"We'll hear about it over here when you do it," Francis agreed. "If anyone can do it, it's you. Do they allow that thing in the ring?"

"No, we're not super mutants, we can't heal so quick from injuries like that," Jenny laughed. "I'd like to see the look on Stuart's face if I tried to box with this on! I'd be hounded out of town after I'd killed all the others in the gym."

They had kept their grip, both unwilling to let go. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes. Then Jenny smiled, let go, and walked into the caravan office and out of Francis's life.

Francis headed back to his home. "No escalation," he muttered under his breath, "that's what I promised. Didn't say nothin' about payback for past crimes..."

Jenny walked through the office building, heading for Bill's desk. Several of the off-duty guards recognized her and waved a greeting as she passed by, and she smiled and waved back. She got a few wolf-whistles too, but she couldn't tell if it was typical behavior from the men who'd been out in the wastelands for weeks, or if it was from men who had seen her in action the past two nights. Or perhaps they even knew her from New Reno.

Thinking of New Reno made her smile. She looked forward to telling her rival Patricia, also known as Pounding Patty, that she'd arm wrestled a super mutant and won. "Let's see her try and one-up that," she thought.

"Bill, Marcus says he really needs to talk to Chad, wants you to send Chad his way," she told the balding man.

Bill sighed. "Sure, I'll do that, once Chad comes back. He went off for a trip up north. No idea why, he said something about checking on a caravan. Jenny, do you think I do a bad job here?" he asked suddenly, sounding plaintive.

"What?" Jenny stared. "Well... no? You look out for us, you arrange our schedules, there're never any hitches, we get paid on time... You're a great Outfitter. What's the problem? What've you and Marcus been so worried about?"

"Oh... so you picked up on that too, huh," Bill replied. "It doesn't add up. I have some complaints from Gecko -- that's the ghoul town up north -- but all the receipts I have from Chad square with my accounts. But the complaints are really persistent. So Marcus and I can't ignore them. I don't know if... well, if Chad is skimming anything off the top for himself. He's a good caravan master. Real good. I let him handle a lot of the business here. Maybe I shouldn't have? I don't know."

He sighed. "Well anyway, great to see you back here," he said, distractedly. "Not sure what shenanigans you're going to get up to again tonight, but whatever you do, just make sure you're here in the morning like you're supposed to be, okay?"

"Don't worry, Bill," Jenny assured him. "I'm staying right here in this building until the morning comes. Not going anywhere."

"Oh? Well, okay," Bill said, turning his attention back to the paperwork. "See you, then."

She found a place in the locker room where she could be alone, and sat down slowly. Making sure that no one was around, Jenny clenched her fists, and sat there, burning with rage that had been hitherto suppressed.

She understood Marcus's position, and she knew that his hands were tied. But that didn't take away the trauma of what she had experienced -- being at the mercy of others who didn't mean her well, being weaker than she normally was, being overmastered by her inferiors, having to fight for her life down to the wire against an unfairly enhanced opponent.

She remembered it all too well -- how she had to endure the punches Liz had dealt out without being able to roll with them or lessen the impact; how she had been forced into an orgasm by Aileen; how desperate and fearful her final struggle with Liz had been.

It was not enough. She had been lying to Marcus and Francis, because she wanted the matter to be over as far as they were concerned. She had observed that most of the miners were super mutants -- she had heard that the mines tended to have high levels of radon gas, and also there was background radiation, so the humans could not really operate the machinery in the depths. They worked above-ground. The ghouls regarded radiation the same way humans regarded a warm water bath or sunlight, and the mutants simply shrugged off the effects as well.

From this, she could see how fragile the peace was. Thanks to the presence of Marcus, a truly remarkable leader, it had become part of the culture here to have all these groups living together harmoniously, sharing the same public spaces with an attitude of reciprocal respect. But let something tip this precarious balance, and the town's very existence would be threatened. This was something even a caravan guard heard about sometimes: Broken Hills was nothing without the uranium deposits.

If she wanted her revenge, she would need to bide her time, and find an opportunity to give Jacob, Aileen and Liz the payback they truly deserved. It could be weeks, months, perhaps even years in coming. But she couldn't be selfish and put her personal vendetta ahead of the welfare of an entire town.

Dark fantasies would have to suffice for the time being, Jenny decided as she leaned her head on the wall and let her fatigue overtake her. 

Her dreams were disturbed -- she was in a ring, with the roaring crowd on all sides, trying to duck and weave, but her movements were slow, as if she were moving in water. Her opponent was huge, so huge -- a mass of muscle. The face shifted -- the ugly pug-nosed face belonging to Mike "The Masticator" morphed into Liz's perpetual scowl, but the physique remained a roiling mass of muscle. Her adversary smacked her around, and she could not avoid a single blow, or land one of her own.

Then her adversary drew close to her and flexed its arms.

"You're a weakling," it cried, its voice a discordant mishmash of male and female. "You're not strong enough. You're weak."

Groaning, Jenny tried to flex her own arms and push against her adversary, bumping chests. But she didn't have the muscle to resist -- she was forced back hard, and the crowd jeered.

The amorphous face loomed over her. It leered. Pinning her arms, it mounted her. A strap-on appeared. Jenny looked up -- it was Liz, muscled up with Buffout. The scowling face moved closer and filled Jenny's entire vision.

She awoke with a start. Her body was awash in cold sweat. A few female caravan guards were looking at her curiously from across the room.

"You ok, honey?" one of them said. She wore a green Mohawk -- clearly she used to be a tribal. "You were moaning a bit bad there. Got a fever?"

"No... no, just a bad dream," Jenny said.

"Hey, it's her," another of them gasped, pointing at her. "The one who beat a super mutant at arm wrestling. That's her."

Jenny was invited to lunch with the group -- it was a bit past noon -- but remembering her promise, she declined, and asked them instead to bring her back something to eat. She spent the rest of the afternoon dozing on a cot. The Buffout crash wore off by late afternoon, and she did some pushups, feeling pleased at how her body was working at full strength again. 

Later that night, the girl who had recognized her earlier slipped into her cot, under the sheets. She said her name was Alma. She was from Redding, to the west. Her breasts were small, her arms were lithe, and she moaned and shivered like a child in the cold.

The next morning, along with the rest of the caravan -- including Alma and her two other friends -- Jenny set off north for Vault City.