“Come on, Bobby! Haven’t you learnt the concept of other people?” my brat sister shouted from the other side of the bathroom door. I spat the foaming white toothpaste from my mouth and yelled back with the minty taste still in my mouth, “You’ll just have to learn to be patient.” The sun was shining through the frosted window pane, causing me to squint as I had just woken up and found it a bit too strong for my eyes at that time in the morning. Standing at the basin in my pyjama bottoms, I took a swig of water and rinsed the taste of the toothpaste out of my mouth. I wasn’t going to rush for her benefit, the little brat. Sliding back the mirrored panel, I took my razor and shaving foam from the wooden cabinet that was affixed to the wall, then went back to the sink to shave. There was a knocking on the door. “Bobby! There is only one toilet in this house, and you are hogging it.” Jackie’s girlish voice grated on my nerves. Putting my shaving stuff back in the cabinet, I took out my aftershave and opened it to splash some of the stuff onto my face. More knocks. “Hurry up, you retard, before I wet myself!” We were typical brother and sister. I didn’t exactly hate her, but then we didn’t exactly have much love for each other either. We weren’t like those goody-two-shoes ‘I love you. You’re my best friend, and I’ll always stand by you’ siblings that were shoved in your face on TV. No, reality was somewhat different, especially if you had a brat like Jackie for a sister. Returning the aftershave, I took out my comb and began to pull it through my black, curly hair. Knock, knock. “Bob-by,” it was a snarl. Good, let her wait. As usual, combing had no effect whatsoever. As soon as I had flattened one part of my hair, it would spring right back up again. Finding no other excuse to spruce myself up, I put back my comb and closed the cabinet, then finally opened the door.

Jackie was standing in the doorway, blocking my way with her hands on her hips and a look of irritation. “About time too; what do you do in there that takes so long?” she asked with a snotty attitude. Jackie wore a red sleeveless halter that barely came down below her budding breasts and a matching pair of skimpy shorts. Frankly, it made me uncomfortable seeing so much of my sister’s body, especially as she wasn’t a little kid anymore but a developing teenager. I was two years her senior and stood 5’8” to her 5’1” or thereabouts, but I felt physically intimidated. You see, Jackie is a competitive gymnast, whereas I’m not into sports at all. While she wasn’t very tall, her body was quite broad and very athletic. Years of top-level competition had developed her body, and standing face to face with her made me feel like a weedy stick insect compared to her well-developed body.

I tried to push past her, but her short, sturdy body bulldozed me up against the door frame. Jackie pressed her chest against me, pinning me against the wood, and looked up into my face with her deep blue eyes that reminded me of how pretty she was becoming. “What’s wrong, Bobby?” her petite mouth with luscious lips moved as she spoke in a soft, breathy voice that sent goose pimples up my spine. “Were you in there doing naughty things while thinking about me?” it was almost a seductive whisper that made me very uneasy. “Don’t talk like that. Get out of my way, brat.” I told her and tried to squeeze past, but she pressed her body firmly against me so I couldn’t move. Even though she is a lot shorter than me, her body seemed to have a lot of mass. I looked down at broad shoulders with well-defined shoulder caps like rounded hubcaps on each side. Her torso then tapered away in a wide-based inverted V shape down to her waist and then sloped back out to disturbingly curved hips. That body pressing against me made me feel very uncomfortable, and I was acutely aware of her small, developing bust pressing against my bare chest with only a bit of skimpy material between them. I was certain that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and that made things worse no matter how hard I tried not to think about it.

With long golden hair flowing around a small heart-shaped face with a cute slender nose and a small mouth, I had to admit that Jackie was becoming a very attractive young woman even though she still acted like a little brat. “You be careful what you say to me, Bobby,” she warned in a soft voice that had an edge to it. The pressure lifted from my body as she stepped back to the middle of the doorway, still blocking my way with her hands on her hips as if challenging me. I looked at her long, slim neck and the sharply defined traps like thick triangles that sloped down to wide shoulders capped with prominent, hard ends. The clavicle which ran along the top of her chest, broken by the hollow at the base of her throat, was much more defined than I’d seen on other girls. My eyes were drawn to her bare arms, which were relaxed and slender, but the blue vein that ran down the front of each arm and a vein-covered forearm made me uneasy. They reminded me that my sister worked out a lot with heavy weights to keep in top competition shape.

The red halter was obscenely short, but I couldn’t help looking at the vast expanse of her firm-toned stomach. Irregular, vaguely square slabs like a bar of white chocolate ran up the centre of her belly, moving slowly in and out as she breathed. The sight was mesmerising. It was like watching a living carpet of hard, well-defined slabs that sank irregularly into her stomach to become a shallow gridwork, then rise back up again. Around her abs, her obliques ran off at a tangent, almost looking like ribs, running diagonally up to her sides. Most disturbing of all, a pair of deep lines in a wide V shape across the bottom of her abdomen sloped inwards towards her crotch, disappearing beneath her briefs. Yes, I know she is my younger sister, but I was at that age where girls were becoming interesting, and Jackie’s fit, toned body was confusing my developing hormones. The sight of a moving, gently flexing, sculpted stomach on my little sister was disturbing, kind of sexy yet scary at the same time. My breathing deepened, and I felt myself get warm.

“What’s the matter, Bobby? You look kind of flustered.” She’d caught me staring at her abs. “N ... nothing,” I stammered, my cheeks burning and feeling a bit of a pervert for gawping at my sister. “You, you shouldn’t walk around the house dressed like that. You’re not a little girl anymore,” I stammered out. Jackie chuckled, then said, “Why? I’m not ashamed of my body. Anyway, it’s not those you should be worried about. It’s these.” SLAP! SLAP! The sound of her hand slapping her hard thighs made me look down, and then I wished I hadn’t. Jackie’s legs were very thick for her height, but they weren’t fat; they were solid muscle. A thick slab adorned her outer thighs, highly toned and very solid-looking as it wrapped all the way to the front of her leg where it met another long, narrow muscle. Adjacent to this on the inner side of her upper leg was a pear-drop-shaped muscle. Even with her legs relaxed, there was no doubt that my younger sibling had big quads, and that made me feel very weak at the knees, remembering their sheer awesome power that led to my humiliation [BOBP#1].

I quickly looked away, raising my eyes but then noticing her right forearm swelling thickly near the inside of her elbow with a thick cord running along to her slim wrists. I held my breath as she rotated her arm upwards, her fist clenched as her forearm slowly bent towards vertical. My heart pounded in my ears as the top of her arm thickened and swelled into a gentle bump. But the bump continued to grow steadily on her slim arms, getting larger and more pronounced until a thick, dense, bulging bicep stood menacingly like a small mountain covered with thin skin. Underneath her arm, triceps swelled, forming a distinct curve. Her forearm had also expanded at the base, becoming really wide with thick, writhing cords and veins running along it. Oh my God, I really felt so weak. My little sister had bigger muscles than I did, much bigger and much stronger. The sheer raw power seemed to emanate from her flexed arm, absolutely terrifying on a girl so young, but I just couldn’t stop myself from gawping with a growing tension in my groin. Why do gymnasts need such big muscles? It wasn’t right that a girl so young should have muscles like that; it wasn’t fair; it shouldn’t be allowed. I was totally paralysed, unable to look away. Jackie smiled sweetly and stared into my eyes. Her small mouth opened, and the words came out softly, “Anytime, Bobby”. She paused to let the dreadful words sink in. “Anytime you want me to kick your arse again,” the words were quiet, soft, but their meaning was full of menace. My brat sister was threatening me, and her well-built, muscular body reinforced the message that she was fully capable of backing her words with action. “In front of your friends; in front of everyone. Just let me know, and I will be more than happy to oblige,” she said.

That dreadful arm with the towering bicep lowered. “Cheer up, Bobby,” she said chirpily, and I flinched as she reached towards my face and pinched my cheek. “Kluck kluck!” she made clucking noises, then pushed past me into the bathroom and closed the door. My heart was racing, and I was breathing quickly as if I had been holding my breath. Feeling ashamed, I went quickly to my room and shut the door, grateful that I was wearing loose pyjama bottoms to cover the embarrassing stiff bulge and trying to shake the vision of those abs and biceps out of my mind.

Jackie always used to be a bit of a pain, as all kid sisters are to their older brothers. There was the usual sort of sibling rivalry, but nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until that fateful, er, incident. On the face of it, nothing appeared to have changed between us; there was a sort of unspoken tension and unease whenever I got glimpses of bare-toned body. Thankfully, she didn’t go around bragging about it, although whenever I saw her with her mates, they would all look at me and talk in giggles. Of course, the nasty kids kept taunting me about how my little sister wiped me out good and proper not once but twice, the last being in front of everyone. There were also weird rumours about Jackie beating up a teacher, which I couldn’t believe [JACKIE#1]. I mean, she’s not that bad, and no one had called my parents into the headmaster’s office, but I kept seeing kids in her class give her strange looks and step out of her way. The truth was those incidents had shaken me. Her gymnastics had made her stronger than me, and she had used that with wrestling moves she saw on the TV. She needed to be put back in her place, and I had an idea how.

There’s this much older boy called Glenn, who does Judo in the evenings at the sports hall. He’s like 21 or something, and everyone just calls him ‘Judo Boy’ because that’s what he does. He’s alright, but to be honest, he can be a bit of a bastard and loves putting other boys into painful judo holds and making them suffer.

So it was that on a warm summer’s evening, I found myself nervously walking around to the back of the sports block. This was a large concrete block of a building tucked away in the corner of the school grounds. This backed onto a row of houses, separated by a metal fence with triple-spiked vertical rails that resembled spikes partly covered by some tall, overgrown shrubs. That meant it was secluded and not overlooked. Spread upon the wide strip of grass between the block and the fence were several large gym mats upon which Judo Boy was limbering up. He was wearing a short white gi jacket tied with a black belt and a small pair of white shorts that showed off his big, pale, hairy legs, which, to be honest, wasn’t pleasant, but I dared not say anything. Judo Boy is over 6 feet tall and very heavily built, but you wouldn’t say overweight unless you wanted your legs tied around your neck.

“So where is she then?” he growled. “She’ll be along in a minute after she’s finished her gymnastics club. I told her to meet me here,” I replied. His face was chubby with small eyes, a stubby nose, and a wide mouth. Short, curly, sandy-coloured hair framed his head. He wasn’t known for his patience, and I just hoped Jackie would hurry up before he decided to practice on me. The minutes dragged on, and Judo Boy was flinging himself around the mat when Jackie walked around the corner of the building.

My sister wore a crisply ironed short-sleeved white blouse buttoned up to her neck, and around which she wore a dark blue silk tie that featured wide diagonal blue and black stripes. A short pleated grey skirt swirled around the top of her bare thighs as she strode towards us. On her feet were calf-length white socks and sensible black leather shoes. Her long golden hair was worn loose and gleamed in the sunlight. “What are you doing here, Bobby? You need to walk me home,” she said. She was carrying her kit bag in her hands before, and impulsively I swung my hands up, knocking it out and sending it to the ground with a satisfying thump. “Childish, Bobby, really childish,” she snarled, then bent over to retrieve it. As she leant forward, the short pleated skirt rose up around her backside, giving a glimpse of skimpy white knickers barely covering tight, rounded buttocks. “Corr! Your sister’s got a great arse,” Judo Boy moaned. I don’t know if she had never heard him, but she seemed to spend a lot longer than necessary bent over, showing off her small, compact backside.

“Go home, Jackie. You’re old enough to go home on your own. I’m staying here. Judo Boy is going to show me a few things,” I told her. That made her stand up straight. She whirled around to face me, looking up at me with wide blue eyes trying to look cute. “Oh, Bobby, darling, you are not going to learn Judo,” her voice was beguiling like cream pouring over sugar. She ran her finger up and down the front of my shirt as she spoke. “Judo won’t save you from me kicking your arse again,” she said sweetly. “What did she say?” Judo Boy asked. “Er, nothing. Ignore her. She’s just a silly gymnast,” I replied. “Gymnastics is not silly. It’s better than silly Judo any day,” she snapped back. Hook, line, and sinker. “Judo can kick a gymnast’s arse any day,” Judo Boy laughed. “You’re just a bunch of pansies prancing around in leotards,” he added derisively. “Yeah, well, you aren’t teaching Bobby Judo. Come along, Bobby,” she ordered in a raised voice. She raised herself up on tiptoes so that she came close to mine. “I said now, Bobby,” she hissed with menace. “I’m staying here,” I told her firmly, shaking her off. She tried to take hold of my arm, but Judo Boy stepped in.

What happened next was glorious. Judo Boy grabbed Jackie’s arm and pulled it over his shoulder as he turned towards the mat and immediately bent forward. My sister went flying over his shoulder, head over heels with her pleated skirt billowing around her waist and her bare legs flailing uselessly. SLAM! Her back hit the mat and bounced. THUD! The large, bulky lad dropped down, draped his big legs across her chest, and pulled her arm between them. “Arhk!” she shrieked as he bent her arm back against his groin. “This is an arm bar, darling. I bet they don’t teach you this in gymnastics,” he told her. She was shrieking and slapping her free hand against the mat with her legs kicking around. Oh, this was really making my day. Maintaining the armbar, he got to his knees, forcing her to do the same. This was good; my brat sister was forced to kneel before this lad, powerless to stop him. “Arkk!” another squeal as she was forced to stand up and bend over perpendicular to her legs. “Bend over, bitch, or I’ll break your arm,” he ordered. I smiled as her face was red with frustration as she had no choice but to comply.