Muscles from Brussels Musclefan UK
This story took place in the early 1990’s when I was aged 16. I was an average student in High School, more into sports and practical subjects rather than academia, but for some reason, learning a foreign language really appealed to me. At 16 I was about average height at 5’10 and weighed in on the slim side at 150llbs. As part of my French course, I had the opportunity to go on the French exchange trip. This was 5 days holiday, staying with a French speaking family. It was an anxious wait to see if I was one of the chosen few, and I was overjoyed when I heard I was going to go and stay with the Van Hoof family in Belgium. In the acceptance letter was information about the family. They lived in a small fishing village not too far from Antwerp. The family consisted of mom (Mary), dad (Pierre), 16-year-old twins Martha and Philippe, and a 13-year-old girl called Amy. The months until the trip seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was on the ferry from Dover to Rotterdam where Mr. Van Hoof would pick me up and drive me back to their home.
Mr. Van Hoof was an average sized gentleman. He was graying slightly, but still had a youthful look about him. He was softly spoken, but seemed very pleasant on the journey back home. Upon arrival, a large looking woman greeted me. She looked a little shorter and tubbier than her husband, but again, had a youthful look. She gave me a welcome hug as we met on the doorstep and this was the first sign of what I was soon to find out. The hug was like a vice and while warm and loving, it bloody well hurt. The couple showed me around the house and said that the children would be home from school soon. As I wandered the house to get my bearings, I stumbled upon a cabinet in the spare room. It was full of trophies. I took closer look and saw the titles engraved on the fronts, ‘junior bodybuilding champion 1970’, ‘natural champion of fitness 1972’, ‘Bodybuilding all round winner 1985’. The years of the competitions ranged from when Mr. Van Hoof must have been a teenager, right up until a couple of years back. He hadn’t seemed the bodybuilding type, not stocky at all, but he had a coat on so maybe he was the slim toned type. It had not occurred to me that he might not be the owner of the trophies. I went downstairs and decided to ask him about them.
“Looks like your some bodybuilder Mr. Van Hoof” I said
“Yes, I was quite the champion poser” he chuckled.
A laugh came from the kitchen.
“So, what weight class were you in?” I asked
“Erm, I was erm, middle, yes middleweight” he said rather unconvincingly.
Just as I was about to quiz further, Mrs. Van Hoof walked in.
“You know a bit about bodybuilding then do you Andy?” she asked me
“Well, I quite like to watch competitions when they are the telly, I am no expert” I admitted
“Well, do you think you would be a good judge in a competition?” she asked
Strange question I thought, but I replied, “Erm, I guess I would be ok”
“Good” she said, “Lets give it a try then. Come on Pierre, flex your bodybuilding muscles for the boy”
Pierre put down the newspaper and signed. He rolled up his sleeve and flexed. I was surprised at the lack of muscle. Sure, a bicep was visible, but it was surely not a competitive bodybuilders muscle, certainly not the bicep that won so many trophies.
“Erm, very good” I said politely.
Then, without saying a word, Mrs. Van Hoof flexed her own arm. My jaw nearly dropped off. It was easily 15 inches, on her 5’5 frame, it looked even bigger.
“They are yours? The trophies must be yours?” I said
“Pierre, a bodybuilder” she joked before bursting into a fit of laughter
Although I had only seen her bicep, I wanted to see the rest of her, so I kept on with the questions. She had stopped competing 2 years ago and had put on a little weight, hence the ‘tubby’ appearance.
“So, can we arm wrestle?” I asked her hopingly
She shook her head; “I don’t think there is any point in that. Maybe you should go ask Amy.
“You mean Martha surely,” I asked
“No, I meant Amy. You’re a slim boy, you two would have a close match,” she said
“But Amy is only 12 and I am 16, and a boy” I snapped
“She is 13 actually, and so what if you are a boy, you think Pierre can beat me?” she replied
She had a point I guess, but I had no doubt that I would demolish a 13 year old, even before having even met her.
We changed the subject and 10 minutes later, the 3 kids arrived home. Philippe came over first and shook my hand. He was about my height and maybe 15llbs heavier. Martha welcomed me next. A kiss on either cheek and a handshake. Martha was pretty. She stood at 5’7 and around 135llbs. Finally, the young Amy came over and shook my hand. She was 5’1 115llbs, and upon seeing her, I was convinced that Mrs. Van Hoof was mistaken in thinking we may be close in strength.
A couple of days passed and I was having a great time. I got on well with the entire family. I had just been out for a jog in the park with Martha, when I returned home to find Philippe in his room on his games console. I walked in and routed through the wardrobe for a change of clothes. Philippe seemed very distant.
“Hi Philippe, this is that new racing game isn’t it?” I said
He just nodded, he was not himself
“You ok?” I asked him
Again, he just nodded. I decided to change the subject
“So, you ever see your mother compete?” I asked him
He immediately dropped the controls and looked at me with an icy stare, “What did you say?” he snapped.
“Your mom, she is a bodybuilder right?” I said. No reply.
“I was thinking of asking her to have me an arm wrestle” I said,
“NO!” He snapped back at me.
“What’s the matter” I said to him
“Nothing, just stay away from arm wrestling talk with her” he warned. I pushed the matter further, but Philippe said very little more on the subject.
“Look Andy, you’re a nice guy, it’s in your best interests to avoid mentioning the muscle stuff to her, that’s all I will say on the matter” he walked into the bathroom and locked the door.
Philippe had seemed scared almost. I thought this was weird, but didn’t want to push the matter any further.
The next day was Thursday, just 2 days before my departure. This was my first time meeting a female bodybuilder, I wasn’t going to go without arm wrestling her, even with the warning I had been given. Mrs. Van Hoof was baking in the kitchen when I walked up and asked her again for an arm wrestle.
“I told you before Andy, there is little point, go and see Amy” she said
“But I don’t want to beat a little girl, I want to see how strong you are” I said.
She carried on with her baking, but I would not give up.
“I tell you what” I said, “I will arm wrestle Martha and Amy if you will arm wrestle me now”
I felt that I would easily beat either of the smaller females in the house, and it seemed to be what Mrs. Van Hoof wanted. The offer made Mrs. Van Hoof stop her baking.
“You promise?” she asked
“Yes, I swear” I said
Mrs. Van Hoof dried her hands and put her arm up on the kitchen table. You could immediately see the muscle on her arm, even without any exertion on her part. I joined her, my skinny arm looked pathetic next to hers. I gripped her large hand. She nodded as if to tell me to start, so I began to push. I knew she would be strong, but I was disappointed that I wasn’t able to move her hand back at all. I grunted and I pushed but no effect. After about a minute of giving my all, she said, “Ok, ready to start?” in a mocking voice. She hadn’t even been trying and I didn’t move her an inch. She slowly pushed my arm softly down to the table. She could have taken me down in a matter of seconds.
‘WOW, your so strong” I exclaimed
“Told you”, she said, “Lets wait until the girls get home then”
I didn’t mind arm-wrestling them really. I knew I would beat them both, and I had just arm-wrestled my first muscle woman.
Philippe arrived home first. I was upstairs playing on his computer when he walked in.
“Hey, I arm-wrestled your mom before, how strong is she?” I announced. He stopped dead in his tracks and dropped his bag to the floor. He looked shocked at my actions.
“What’s the matter with you?” I asked him
“I told you not to arm wrestle with her” he said
“Oh come on, what harm did it do?” I replied.
Philippe sat down on the bed. “Did she mention anything about my sisters?” he asked nervously
“Yes, she said I had to take them both on at arm-wrestling, should be a piece of cake” I joked.
“No, no, no” shouted Philippe. “You mustn’t”
“Why not, what’s wrong with you, I will beat them both easily” I boasted.
Philippe looked around nervously, then walked over and quietly shit the door. He moved close to me and began to whisper softly. “Look Andy, this has happened before, it always leads to a lot of embarrassment and pain”
I laughed, what on earth was he talking about.
He continued, “Mom and dad like to wrestle. Mom has always been the better of the two, but until 2 years ago, they had good competitive matches. Dad then began to lose interest in the gym and fitness, and mom began to beat him way too easily. She wanted a new opponent, someone to match her all the way, but if she asked someone from the village, the whole place would think she was strange. She decided to get on the foreign exchange program. She insisted on an older boy, one who was physically developed. Once she arrived, she was so nice to him, made him feel so at home, then just before he left, she lured him into wrestling her. She destroyed him, really hurt him. He was over six feet tall, yet he was sobbing like a baby when she had done with him.”
I was shocked at what I was hearing.
He went on, “After she had beaten the boy, she made me and Martha wrestle. We were 14 then and similarly matched. We had a good match that I won, but only just. A year later, mom got into the exchange program again. By now Martha had been going to the gym regularly and was beginning to beat me up on a regular basis. She decided that last years exchange pupil would be someone hand picked to wrestle Martha. John was his name, 15, same as us, but bigger than me. It was an awesome match to watch. Martha wore him down and really made him beg. I was glad it was he and not I. Anyway, since then, dad and me have been working out like hell. Martha is still better than me, but I can give her a good match again, just like when we were kids. And dad is no match for mom, but he gives her a decent workout now.”
I was surprised by the amazing private activities in the Van Hoof house, but I still didn’t truly understand why Philippe seemed so worried for me.
I had to ask, “So, why the problem, I am only arm wrestling, and I think I can take your sisters”
Philippe explained that the previous 2 years had always begun with an arm wrestle and led to the undignified end.
Philippe was blunt and honest with me,
“Andy, you’re a nice guy, I hate to see you get hurt, but you are no match for Martha. She is stronger than me, and to be honest, I think am a lot stronger than you”
True, Philippe was slightly heavier than me, but I was quite strong. I was going to ask him for an arm-wrestle, but decided against it. My mind was filled with thoughts about what he had told me.
“Well Philippe, I can’t see what your worried about. I think I am capable of beating Martha, and ok, your mom would wipe the floor with me, but there is no shame or embarrassment in loosing to a woman of her size” I announced.
Philippe shook his head. Still whispering, he replied,
“You don’t understand. Mom wrestles dad, I wrestle Martha. She has brought you here to wrestle Amy.”
I burst out laughing. I honestly thought this was the Belgian sense of humor, I was wrong. My laugh and smile slowly vanished as I realized that Philippe was telling me that I was going to have to wrestle a 13-year-old girl.
“Well, if you are serious, I guess it will be a laugh” I said. “Beating a child will be easy”
Philippe replied sharply, “NO! Amy is very strong for her age, she is no match for me, but you may be shocked, you don’t seem strong at all to me, that’s why mom picked you, she thinks you will lose”
I didn’t accept this, but what if he was right. Mrs. Van Hoof seemed a good judge of opponent form the past 2 years, what if she was right. I decided to listen to the warning I had been given. I was not going to wrestle, arm-wrestle, or even argue with any of the females for my remaining time there.
My departure from Philippe’s room could not have been timed any worse. I walked into the front room just as Mrs. Van Hoof was telling her girls about the ‘arranged’ arm-wrestle. I froze as Martha smiled broadly. I tried to back out from the room, but Martha turned and spotted me.
“We have another guy who wants to try to beat the ladies hey?” she shouted.
Damn, I was trapped. Martha walked over to the dining table, “Come on big guy, lets see what you have”
Martha was fairly tall, but not my height. I out weighed her, but suddenly she looked more filled out than I had noticed before. My mind was playing tricks on me as I joined her at the table, the same table that Mrs. Van Hoof had overpowered me on hours earlier. My arm was longer than Martha’s, hers marginally thicker. There was no massive bicep this time and than made me feel far more at ease. We gripped hands, this felt weird. Still in her school uniform, I was about to arm-wrestle her. “GO!” shouted her mother. I gave an early heave and began to make an advantage. Only a couple of centimeters, but it was a good start. I moved her a little more, I was sure this would soon be over. I was right, but not how I envisaged it. Suddenly, Martha seemed to up the pressure. As though she were moving through the gears. I was giving my all from the off and had no reserve left, she was conserving her energy and making it count. She let out a small grunt as she passed the neutral position and continued her progress. She was spurred on now by her sister and mother who were applauding the movement. In panic, I managed to muster new energy and hold her steady, with my arm hovering. There was no more I could do though, I was merely buying time. She mustered up a final surge and slammed me hard to the table.
“Yes!” shouted Martha as she did a mock flex to me. Her family congratulated her as I looked on to see her small but neat bicep from her short-sleeved school shirt. Her posing captivated me; it was only the squeaky voice of Amy that snapped me out of it.
“My turn, it’s me next” she shouted. I frantically tried to think of an excuse to escape the match, I suddenly didn’t feel confident at all. Thankfully Mrs. Van Hoof saved me temporarily,
“Not just yet Amy, have patience. Give Andy a while to rest, we don’t want any excuses when you best him”.
I walked off trying to blank it from my mind. I felt like a cow waiting to be shot at the slaughterhouse. I wanted to be back home in England so much.
The next hour seemed to drag on for an eternity. I was shaking with nerves. I could happily accept a defeat to the muscles of Mrs. Van Hoof, and maybe even to Martha who was a couple of months older, but Amy. She was over 3 years younger than me, how could I face anyone after a defeat to her. Then, my daydream was abruptly stopped by a rapping on the bedroom door. It was Martha. “Amy is ready,” she shouted like an executioner taking me to the firing squad. I walked into the front room. Amy was already sat at the table with her arm up and ready to go. Martha and her mother stood by her side, as I sat to join her. I easily outweighed Amy, and as I grabbed her small hand, I suddenly became filled with confidence. I felt Amy make a jolt with her hand, and we were off. I gradually increased my power, expecting the child to buckle. But to my surprise, she didn’t buckle. Her face showed that she was struggling to match my strength, but her will and determination kept her arm upright and keep her in the match. I smiled, I knew I had the match in my control, or so I thought. I continued to up the power I exerted, fully expecting her arm to collapse. But it refused to budge, and suddenly I realized that I had no more left in the tank. I was now giving my all and still not able to beat her. Maybe she would tire I hoped, but she didn’t, in fact maybe she had been holding a little in reserve. Her movement of retreat had stopped and before I knew it, we were back into the starting position. I began to panic and tried to find some more energy, but I had nothing left to give. Amy began to smile as her arm began a slow but steady movement. Our eyes met and we both knew the result was now inevitable. One last strain from her was enough to buckle my aching arm.
Amy leapt up from the chair. Her mother hugged her and patted her on the back.
“Looks like we chose the perfect student” she said.
I felt like crying, I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing to say, a child had just overpowered me. I ran out of the front door and headed for a long walk along the canal. I walked for hours, thought were running through my head, how could I be so weak. It soon began to get dark; I headed back to the Van Hoof house. As I walked up the drive, I heard groaning noises from inside, I walked into the front room to find the floor covered with mats and Mrs. Van Hoof straddled over her husband with her legs squeezing him tightly.
“Ok, I give” shouted Mr. Van Hoof. His wife smiled and gave a flex of her giant biceps before standing up and helping her husband to his feet. She looked over at me.
“So glad you came back Andy, you would have messed up our evenings entertainment.”
I didn’t understand, my puzzled look said as much, and Mrs. Van Hoof continued with her explanation;
“It’s all set up, 3 good solid matches. I have just beaten Pierre, Philippe and Martha are up next, then you against Amy”
Was she being serious, I was over a foot taller, way heavier, I would do the child serious damage.
“How about I wrestle you or Martha” I asked. I would have loved to be squeezed by the mighty muscles of Mrs. Van Hoof, or the chance to grapple up close with the sexy Martha. Mrs. Van Hoof was having none of it though.
I was told in no uncertain terms to sit down and wait. I did as I was told and sat down next to the heavy breathing Mr. Van Hoof. Philippe and Martha then took to the floor. Philippe looked scared as hell stood in his shorts and t-shirt. I had the feeling he had done this many times and knew the outcome would not be favorable. Martha made short work of her brother. She wrapped her arms round him, tossing him to the floor. Quick as hell she was jumping onto his chest. Her legs wrapped round his middle and he began to cry in pain, begging her to stop. Martha was showing off to me as her guest and refused to let up until her mom stepped in. I was beginning to be grateful that I had not been the one wrapped in her legs. She looked so strong, way stronger than me. Relief soon turned to despair as Amy stood up and I realized I was up next.
This was ridiculous. I was towering above her, what a mis-match. I made my move and grabbed her shoulders, but her arms moved upwards, brushing off my grip. I tried again, but she had ducked under me and hoisted me up with her back and I was on the floor. I began to rise, but an arm came round my neck, pulling me back to the floor. I was trapped. I grabbed the slim arm with my two hands, trying to get free, but she was so strong, I couldn’t get free. For over a minute I grappled, losing air and getting dizzy. I finally broke the hold and scrambled to my feet. Her speed was amazing, and before I could clear my head, she had taken my legs in her grip and forced me back to the floor. This time she replicated her sister and jumped onto my chest. I wheezed as my breath was forced out. I was unable to move as Amy pinned my hands to the floor. Her mom made a slow 3 count to award the little girl the win. I was so ashamed, but also glad of being spared the submission defeat.
Amy got off me and walked over to the couch. Martha stood up and stopped her.
“Amy, where are you going? You have to make him give” she said
Amy looked at me as I cowered in the corner. Her mom nodded and Amy came for me again. I tried to fend her off, but she grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the corner. For a moment we had a tussle, 2 hands each, pushing, in a true show of strength. Sadly for me, the 13 year old had the edge and she slowly began to force my arms back. I buckled and she fell onto me. Within a few seconds, she had me face down with my arm up behind my back. I began to wail as the jolts of pain shot up my arm, through my shoulder and beyond. “I quit, I quit” I shouted and Amy let go and stood over me as my victor.
I looked up at the entire Van Hoof family. They all looked at me as the pathetic victim that I was. Mrs. Van broke the silence, “We must get a stronger one for you NEXT YEAR”
