The Impossible Girl

Anything You Can Do...

I'm just a guy with a few stories. A few like this one, are about what is likely the most badass girl to walk the earth. If you're not ok with tales of clearly all-around superior females, it's best to leave now.
There was just the one girl in the heavy lifters side of the gym, Lisa DeLuca. Girl might not be the right term, going to the gym with Lisa was a little like going to gym with a member of some sort of SciFi superior alien species. For starters she was the strongest one there, the girl had a flawless, unaided by shirt five hundred pound bench press. Her form didn't teeter in the slightest, her back didn't arch and her wonderfully full bum stayed rock solid steady. She just let the weight down to her magnificent chest and put it back in place in smooth rhythm. At first there was shame and jealousy from guys all around, but that faded with time and we all just kind of took to admiring her in motion. It probably helped that she was approximately hot as hell, which admittedly you might have guessed from earlier description. Two time beauty queen winner and curves rarely seen outside of photo manipulation. I have the sneaking suspicion she's the smartest person here too, but it's hard to tell because she doesn't do much conversation. She does do robotics and computer programming though, and she seems young. It's enough to make a guy feel right inadequate, but at least we get to look at her I guess.
Some of the guys had seen improvement and we had a couple new members so we all decided to have a little competition and see who had the best lifts. Everyone who had been there for a while knew it was simply a contest for second. It was a fair question to see if Lisa would enter or not, but we all knew we would forever trail behind her physical power whether she displayed it this time or not. We went through a few weight set-ups and stuff, a bit over a dozen of us guys. Last was the machine where your arms would be out to your side and you'd pull up the weights with each arm. Going through it was clear that the best of us were pulling about half the weight the machine had. Lisa entered at the end.
"Hey fellas, mind if I give this a go?" she was already looking at the weights.
She moved the lifter down a peg or two even as she got the reply in the affirmative. She stepped up into position and swished her hair from side to side, showing its shampoo commercial worthy sheen and luster. She reached up and pulled it back behind her, letting her arms casually bulge with the motion. Of course, Lisa's casual bulge was better than a lot of people's full flexes. I was sure she was just here to show the newbies who the alpha was here.
Something went wrong though, during her little preening one of the new guys stepped behind the machine and moved the weights. I wasn't sure where to, but when Lisa pulled to no effect, I guessed it must have been to increase it. He laughed, as did the other two new guys after he egged them a bit. Lisa singled him out and glared at him, I was expecting an epic verbal beat down of some kind. I was quite mistaken. She grit her teeth in determination, adjusted her grip on the bars and pulled. Lisa's arms swelled like I've never seen as she fucking maxed out the machine pulling the weights to their full height of motion. As she set them back down her arms trembled a little and the steel hit the bottom with a loud clang.
I'd never seen her lose control of her form before, and she clearly didn't appreciate it. Her lovely face scrunched into a hateful gaze as she marched towards the would-be prankster. I could see the veins in her biceps a little, which was weird because she never displayed vascularity, just flawlessly smooth skin over ripped muscles. Nearly everyone gave her a wide berth, but one of the guys, a big man about six foot four and nearly as broad grabbed her arm as she walked by, starting to say something about calming down. She didn't pay him any attention, she just kept forward and he was pulled along with her. One step, then a half-hopping one, and then his grip slipped as he nearly fell.
She stopped a mere few inches in front of his face, "Do you think you're funny?"
"Uh...I was just..."
"You were trying to make it so I didn't move the weight, right? You wanted me to look weak and ineffectual, and since you're new here and don't know anyone I believe the most logical conclusion is that the reasoning comes from the simple fact I'm a girl."
"Well..."
"Are you sexist? Is that the message you wanted to send your first day?"
"Look, I think you're just being overly sensitive," he reached out to clasp her shoulder but she moved frighteningly quickly and grabbed his wrist.
Lisa brute forced his arm back towards his body and he reached for her with his other hand, only to have it caught by her other hand. There was a scuffle a moment, or rather an attempt. He moved about trying to move her away but she moved his arms close together and pushed him so that he was forced to lean backwards. She pushed down and made his knees bend, bringing him closer to the floor and his eyes widened in fear.
"Overly sensitive? I've had to put up with idiots like you most of my life. 'No way that girl out lifted me. No way that girl outran me. No way that girl outscored everyone on the math proficiency test.' On and on. I can ignore most people and simply prove them wrong, but some people just insist on being asses. I've since decided the best policy is that if you fuck with me, I will destroy you."
He didn't answer her, he simply started squirming again trying to find the leverage to break her grip. He didn't but she let him go and he fell backwards onto the gym floor.
"You need to know just who you decided to mess with," Lisa's voice was dripping with even more arrogance than usual, but I found myself kind of loving it, "Get up and hit me in the stomach."
"What?"
"Get up and hit me in the stomach, you wimp."
He looked up at her, confused and then angry, "What did you call me?"
"A wimp, which is kind considering the wet angel hair pasta you have for arms," she turned away from him and played with her hair a little, "I bet I wouldn't even feel your best punch."
That seemed to do the trick, he got up in a hurry and swung his fist in a strange side-move. I realized what he was doing when his fist collided with her side, just away from her abs. She moved a little, swaying from the impact but she didn't seem harmed or perturbed at all as her expression didn't shift.
"Interesting attack angle. Maybe you're not entirely stupid," she said just before throwing her own fist forward and upwards too fast to follow. Her fist crashed into his abs, sinking into them like a pillow and her arm continued upwards, lifting him off the ground entirely. She held her arm there a moment as he choked out wordless gasps of pain and his hands moved to hers and the sunken crater in his stomach. He slid off her fist and crashed to the ground, unable to do anything but curl in on himself.
"You're nothing to me in terms of strength," Lisa said as she stretched out her arm and wiggled her fingers, "When you recover a bit, we're going to see if there's anything you can beat me at."
What followed was the most brutal conga line of humiliation I've ever witnessed. Lisa wanted him to test himself against her in everything, agility, flexibility, speed, intelligence, everything. Knowing full well it would be futile for him.
Lisa's expression had always said she was bored at any sort of physical contest, but I'm not sure that's true. I think she enjoys lording it over us mortals a bit, she has cracked a grin here and there at the stupefied amazement she often gets. It takes a while to win twenty seven straight arm-wrestling matches, which I saw her do one night at the bar. Admittedly she made everyone agree to bet money on who would win and she made off with some of everyone in the bar that night, but I think she enjoyed it some. Today though, she mostly looked kind of angry.
They started with some basic exercises. He did 230 push ups, which would normally be pretty good, but she did 260. All one-handed compared with his two-handed ones. She only stopped when she felt her point was made, not when she got tired. He was crushed similarly in pull ups, sit ups, and about everything else like that.
Then we went outside and they ran. I don't even remember his speed, but he lost thoroughly and I do remember she ran a mile in four minutes. Three times in a row. That and the way her torso moved convinced me those breasts of hers were actually real. Mostly that second thing.
They measured jumping and while he did reasonably well, certainly enough to play basketball at some level, Lisa was once again freakishly superior. She jumped over her own head height from a stand, and broke the local long jump record like it was nothing.
I'm not entirely sure why we kept watching, but the rate of people getting tired and leaving wasn't much through the day. It was beautiful and horrible to watch. Beautiful because it's always enjoyable to see the skilled do their thing, and Lisa was marvelous. Horrible because this poor man was being slowly crushed under debilitating humiliation. I felt horrible for the guy, but it took a back seat to really, really wanting Lisa. I think everyone that stuck with it felt the same way, and I know she knew. She even bragged later, "Of course everyone wants me," moving her hands over her curvaceous body, "One, duh. Two, I represent excellent genes on all fronts. Any children of mine are going to rock everything regardless of whatever defects the contributing male might have." She's such a snot but somehow I can't hate her for it.
We all went to a computer café for a little bit, but only a few of us could fit inside. We had to share the results with the others. Lisa mocked the online IQ test as inaccurate, but stated that it would still work as a score counter. He was pleased with his result of 132 until she turned around and revealed she'd maxed out their numbers. I remember staring at that screen displaying the number 200 in some kind of terrified awe until she turned back around to change pages. Next up was a typing race, he pulled a respectable 67 wpm with two errors, only to be destroyed by her putting out a perfect 174 wpm. They played five chess matches on the machines and the longest he lasted was seven turns.
Cooking, painting, musical instruments, carving. Lisa did everything like a pro, even when she had to learn something for the first time she was owning it in about ten minutes. The poor guy was just a mess of tears by the time we had a 50-0 record.
"I can't stand your sniveling any more."
"You made your point you bitch...just leave me alone. Let me go home."
"I'm not done with you."
"Oh come on!"
"I will let you go home though. We've done for today."
"Thank god it's over."
"I just told you I'm not done with you. You can go home now, but you'll get one more thing from me soon," she jogged away, even after all that running and lifting and jumping and stuff. I remember being a bit impressed by that, but mostly focused on her virtually perfect back as it left the area.
We split ways then, some more thoughtful guy than me gave her would-be prankster a ride home. I didn't see the poor guy again until about two weeks later. I came into the gym and found him sitting on a bench, unshaven and smelling like alcohol.
"Hey guy, you...look rough."
"My job. The bitch."
"Come again?"
"My boss got an e-mail and some documents telling him how he could automate my job away."
"Huh?" I was quiet a while, I wasn't sure what he was saying.
"He also got this, and instructions to give it to me," he held up a self portrait photograph, Lisa dressed in professional attire he'd never seen her in. It was signed, "NOW we're done asshole."
"Obviously the woman believes in disproportionate retribution..."
He laughed bitterly, "You think? Still, if she wanted...I'd probably still let her have her way with me."
"Of course you would, you're a straight male. You're basically all disgusting," Lisa entered, "in addition to...you know, being slow, weak, and usually dim."
"You are gonna pay, bitch!" he pulled a taser out from his clothes somewhere and pointed it at her.
He pulled the trigger, but stunningly it didn't connect. Lisa moved to the side, slapping the taser's business end to the side with her gym towel as she did. She charged forward, he tried to pull something else out of his clothes but she grabbed him by the shoulders, leaned back and threw a knee up. I was really expecting to hear some horrible crunching and screaming, maybe balls popping, but there was no noise. She had stopped just before connecting.
"Scared you didn't I?"
He snarled at her and came back with a canister of pepper spray. He tried to thrust it in her face but she grabbed his arm and turned it back on him. He fought as hard as he could, but she turned the pepper spray back on him, still in his own hand and hovered the nozzle right above his eyes. His eyes clenched shut as tears started falling out again.
"You know I could break your body. It would be so easy, you couldn't stop me. You couldn't slow me down. I won't though. I don't have to. I've beaten you in every other way. You know you have nothing on me, you can't beat me at all," she pulled the taser and pepper spray away from him and stepped back, "get out of here, and think about how you stack up. Think about me every time you think you've achieved something and remember just how inferior you are."
He sulked out, dragging his feet.
"You are a hard-assed woman Miss DeLuca."
"Hmm?" She twisted about to look at her butt and then rubbed a hand over it, "You are so very right," she grinned with a mischievous little glint in her eyes.
I imagined she was thinking something like, 'I know you want to feel it, so badly, but you're not going to get to, are you?'