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."