Cave Muscle
She had never set foot in these woods, yet every step felt like retracing an old memory.
From the moment her boots pressed into the damp, leaf-covered earth, she moved without hesitation—drawn forward by something she couldn’t name.
She didn’t know why she had to go. Only that she couldn’t stop.
By mid-afternoon, she reached the gaping mouth of a hidden cave. No beer cans. No graffit. No sign of anyone, ever. It felt older than time itself.
Inside, the cave swallowed all light. Even with her hand inches from her face, she saw nothing.
She clicked on her flashlight and swept the beam across the darkness. Searching. For what, she didn’t know.
Water dripped somewhere in the black, each drop sharp and hollow. And beneath it—fainter, almost hidden—a whisper, calling her deeper.
Time didn’t exist here. Minutes, hours—it was all the same in the dark.
And then, she stopped. She felt it before she saw it—a presence on the wall.
Not a crude fertility figure, heavy and round. No. This was different. This was a woman carved in power—covered in muscles. A warrior. A goddess.
Her fingers rose almost on their own, tracing the curve of the painted bicep.
Who was she? A myth? A memory?
Her breath quickened. She didn’t need to ask. She already knew.
The air cracked. A white-hot jolt tore through her body, blinding her—
And then…
The air was cold, sharp as flint. It bit at her skin, and she let it. Pain was proof she was alive. Proof she was ready.
By the fire’s glow, she felt their eyes—tracing the ridges and shadows of her muscles. It was always like this.
But not now.
She lowered her gaze, reached for her bow, fingers curling around the worn wood.
It was time to hunt.
As she crept through the woods, she felt everything. The moist, decomposing leave under her feet. The breeze caressing her bulging muscles. The most subtle noises. The smells.
As the approached a clearing, she slowed. There she was. The prey she'd been stalking for the past hour.
She moved like a shadow through the woods, feeling everything—every sense wide open—the damp, yielding crush of leaves beneath her bare feet, the cool breeze licking over her bare skin, tracing every bulge and swell of her muscles. Even the air felt like it wanted to touch her.
At the clearing’s edge, she slowed. The deer was there, delicate and unaware, the prize she’d stalked for the past hour.
Her pulse hammered. Heat flushed through her body, pooling low. Every muscle flexed and filled, aching to explode forward.
She imagined it—charging, tackling, pinning the animal beneath her weight, feeling its frantic heartbeat against her chest before her grip silenced it. She could. She had.
But not today. She needed to save herself for tonight.
She notched an arrow and drew. The bow bent grudgingly beneath her strength, the wood creaking, her arms hardening into granite. Veins rose, skin tightening, biceps swelling higher with every inch she pulled.
She bit her lip. God, she could keep going—harder, farther—until the string snapped or the wood split in her hands.
But she wouldn’t. Not yet.
With an almost erotic sigh, she loosed the arrow.
She strode through the rugged valley, the heavy buck slung across her broad, muscular shoulders as if it weighed nothing. Each step was a reminder—she was power. She was dominance. She was everything.
Her quads flared and swelled with every stride, thick as tree trunks. No—thicker. They pressed together, rubbing with a slow, relentless friction that sent shivers up her spine.
She was strong enough to do anything. To anyone. To anything. The thought was intoxicating.
Heat pooled low in her belly, spreading between her thighs. She felt her own wetness slick and warm, trickling down as her muscles bunched and released in perfect rhythm.
God, she wanted… more.
And then she felt it. She wasn’t alone.
She felt no fear. Only the sweet rush of knowing what was coming.
She kept walking, pretending not to notice. Her clit throbbed with anticipation, pulsing in time with her steps, waiting for the strike.
Then—footsteps. Soft but fast. Closing in.
She spun, hands rising, every muscle in her body exploding into definition—biceps swelling, pecs contracting and exploding with mass, abs tightening into a stone wall.
The sabertooth closed the gap, met by her slow, sadistic, lust-filled smile.
The impact was violent, knocking her back into the cold dirt.
This was the most powerful predator in the valley.
Well… perhaps the second most powerful.
She locked her arms, holding it above her, letting the beast believe—just for a heartbeat—that it still ruled this place.
Then her hands slid around its torso. Her fingers sank into its dense fur, feeling the living stone of its muscles beneath. God, they were magnificent—thick, mounds of raw power, flexing and shifting under her grip.
Her grip tightened. The muscles under her hands fought, strained, pushed back—but hers swelled harder, thicker, unstoppable.
The tiger groaned, a deep, guttural sound that echoed across the valley.
She moaned right back, eyes half-lidded in bliss.
“Mmmm… yyyesss…”
Its strength was fading, inch by inch, crumbling under hers. She wanted more.
Before it could twist free, she uncoiled her legs and wrapped them around its torso. Her quads clamped shut, muscles flaring into ridged columns of power.
“Feel my power!” she roared, voice shaking the air.
The tiger’s snarl broke into a ragged, panicked cry as the world closed in around it.
Then came the sound—sharp, wet cracks. Ribs folding one after another beneath her relentless squeeze.
She took her time, savoring each pop, each trembling spasm of resistance. Every one was a reminder: her strength was absolute. Her dominance, total.
“OOOOOoooohhhh!” she moaned, head thrown back, as the last of its fight faded away.
The beast sagged, limp in her arms.
She rose to her feet, gripping its fur in both hands, and with one mighty heave, lifted the great predator high over her head.
Her roar split the air—louder, more primal, more alive than anything that had ever stalked this valley.
She was the ultimate predator.
Night had come.
The ritual.
She was more than a woman. More than a hunter. More than a predator.
She was a god in flesh.
Kneeling in the great house, she let the virgins paint her body with sacred designs, each stroke echoing centuries of tradition.
Their hands trembled as their brushes traced the peaks and valleys of her muscles.
She didn’t need to move. Didn’t need to speak. Her presence alone made them quake like leaves in the wind.
She could smell it—their arousal, sharp and undeniable. It stirred her own heat, wetness building between her thighs.
One virgin forced herself to continue the words of the ritual.
“And she raised her arm, making the mountains.”
She obeyed, lifting her arm and flexing. The muscle swelled, hard and high, skin tight over its perfect curve.
The virgin gasped, a helpless moan slipping free. “Ooooohhh…”
Her whole body shivered, teetering on the edge of release from the sight alone.
Her fingers reached out—breaking formality, breaking the rules—to trace the painted ridge of the bicep.
It wasn’t part of the ritual. But it always happened.
She was irresistible.
“Say it,” the goddess commanded, her voice low and unyielding. “Say what you’re thinking.”
The virgin swallowed hard, her words barely a whisper.
“You’re… so much bigger than they said.”
A slow smirk curled across the goddess’s lips. She’d known the answer before it was spoken, but still, she drank in the worship like the finest wine.
“Will you…” the virgin began, then faltered.
“Go on,” the goddess urged, eyes locked on hers. “Ask it.”
The great house was silent but for the crackle of the fire and the ragged breathing of the virgins.
“Will you show me… how big you can be?”
The goddess straightened, raising her arms wide—level, like the earth where it meets the sky.
“You will watch,” she said, voice heavy with promise, “and you will crumble.”
Slowly, deliberately, she curled her arms inward. Muscle swelled, pushing higher, harder, impossibly thick.
“NNNNNGGGGHHH!” She moaned with the effort, willing her body to grow beyond reason.
“Ohhh… Gods… it’s impossible!” the virgin gasped, her knees trembling.
“RRRRGGGHHHH… BIGGER!!” the goddess roared, forcing the peaks higher, veins swelling into thick ropes that throbbed just beneath her skin. Her flesh looked ready to split.
“Please… it is enough! It’s too much!”
But she did not stop. She would not stop.
And then—“NOW!” she bellowed. “BREAK FOR ME!”
The virgins shattered in unison, their cries filling the chamber as their first orgasms tore through them—hips bucking, bodies writhing, moans and the scent of release thick in the air.
The first part of the ritual was complete. But there was more to come.
The drums began—low, slow, and deep—rolling through the valley like the heartbeat of the earth itself.
Above, the full moon hung heavy and white, flooding the cliff in silver light. Below, the villagers gathered, their faces turned upward, every eye fixed on the place where she would appear.
Once a year, on this night, the goddess revealed herself in her full glory. It was not just tradition. It was prophecy. It was the night when her power overflowed, when her body—divine and unstoppable—would summon ecstasy from every soul who beheld it.
They came for the same reason every year—not just to see her, but to feel her. To have their minds shattered and their bodies broken open by her strength.
Every man. Every woman. Every villager knew what was coming. The moment she stepped into the moonlight, her muscles would swell, her veins would rise, and with each flex, a wave would roll through the crowd—moans breaking out like a chorus until the whole valley quaked with release.
Tonight, she would take the entire village in her grip without ever laying a hand on them.
And they would beg her for it.
The drums stopped. The valley went silent.
She stood above them—bigger than memory, bigger than legend. Every inch of her painted in sacred markings, her body gleaming in the moonlight.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.
Her first pose was slow, deliberate. The body swelled with muscle, the skin stretched so tight the paint seemed ready to crack. A ripple of gasps rolled through the crowd.
She shifted, flaring her lats wide, her silhouette expanding like the shadow of a mountain swallowing the valley. A low hum began in the crowd—moans disguised as breath.
She felt it. Their hunger. Their need. And it stoked her own. Heat coiled deep inside her, throbbing in rhythm with their stares.
She flowed into another pose, abs tightening into ridged armor, pecs lifting, veins climbing across her arms like living vines. The crowd shuddered as one, hips rocking, hands clutching at thighs and chests.
She smiled. She was feeding them… and feeding herself.
Each pose grew more intense. Shoulders rolling forward, traps rising like boulders, thighs swelling until they rubbed together in thick, powerful slabs. Her clit throbbed with every flex, every gasp from below.
She could hear them now—moans spilling free, bodies squirming in the moonlight.
She twisted into a side-chest pose, biceps exploding against forearms, pecs straining against her own breath. The noise in the valley swelled—panting, cries, the rising pitch of desperate pleasure.
Her own body trembled, not from weakness, but from the boiling flood of release she was holding back. She wanted to give it to them all at once.
She spread her stance, letting her legs slowly slide to the side as she lifted her arms wide, and began to flex. Eyes fixed on the crowd, taking in their reactions.
Then, she began the final pose. Every muscle surged—quads flaring, biceps ballooning higher, chest heaving. She pushed harder, harder, harder, until it felt like her skin might split.
Her body doubled in presence—bigger, fuller, impossibly dense. Veins throbbed like drumbeats under her skin. Her roar ripped into the night, raw and primal, vibrating through the earth.
The village shattered. Cries of ecstasy erupted like thunder—men, women, every soul convulsing, hips bucking, voices breaking as wave after wave tore through them.
She felt it too—her own release crashing into her like lightning, every flex, every muscle pulsing with pleasure and power until she could hardly breathe.
Her roar deepened, echoing over the mountains, holding them all in the grip of her climax.
When it broke, the valley lay in breathless silence, the scent of sweat and release hanging heavy in the air.
She lowered her arms slowly, her body still humming, still swollen with the aftermath of her power.
The ritual was complete. She had taken them all to the peak… and conquered them.
THE END
Church Muscle
The priest sat alone in the confessional booth when he heard the squeaky hinge of the door being opened.
The wood of the confessional booth groaned as someone—someone heavy—lowered themselves onto the other seat.
He slid open the wooden screen. Then froze.
She couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Beautiful. But it wasn’t her face that stole his breath.
She was enormous.
He felt a wave of heat wash over his entire body. His breath caught. His heart slammed against his ribs.
Her dress, modest by most standards, clung indecently to her frame. The way it stretched to accommodate her thick, round shoulders. The way it hugged her lats. The seams straining, being stretched to their limit.
Then she spoke.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
After a pause—long, heavy, aching—he forced himself to speak.
“What sins do you wish to confess, my child?”
He could barely make out her face, but he felt her. The heat of her. The presence. Radiating confidence. Dripping with something darker. Something… wicked.
“I’ve been having… impure thoughts,” she said.
She let the silence linger. Let it breathe. Let it curl around him.
“Fantasies… about my big… bulging… mmmmmuscles.”
The way she drew out the word—my God.
He felt himself throb. Stiffen. Grow.
“G… go on,” he said meekly.
I imagine myself sitting in the pew Sunday morning.
I’m wearing the same dress I have on today. I love the way it shows off my biceps. My pecs. My traps. The way my my body stretches the fabric tight. MMMmmmm....
Just look at the thick veins running over my bicep. Down my forearms. MMMMmm….
I can’t help but flex. Tracing the peak with my fingertips.
God, it’s so fucking hard.
Even without flexing, it feels like a rock. But when I flex? … *chuckle*
MMMm… It rises like a fucking mountain!
Everyone’s looking at me. I can feel their eyes. Hear their gasps.
They came here to worship. But not Him! *chuckle*
I fucking love their reactions. Even the disgusted ones.
It just reminds me how big I’m getting. How freaky my muscles are.
It turns me on so much. It makes me want to…. flex even more. Get even more pumped.
Ooooohhh…
The fabric around my buttons is stretching, I can feel it! NNNnggghhh... One big squeeze and there would be buttons ricocheting off the church walls! lol
The priest is panting. Can she hear it?, he wonders.
"But that's not all," she says with... almost a moan of pleasure.
When it’s time for communion, I step into the aisle. My skirt barely hides my legs.
They’re monstrous.
These poor people… they’ve never seen anything like it.
The way my glutes flex with every step—each shift of my weight making them swell.
And my glutes. The way the change shape with every subtle movement. Like there's some kind of monster living under my skirt. I guess there kinda is! lol
And as I get closer to the front… I see you. And I see you start to… react to me.
You try to say professional, but I can see the flush creeping up your neck, into your cheeks.
Your eyes keep darting to my body. My muscles.
I almost feel sorry for you. So... conflicted. I almost want to take pity on you... but I don't.
As you place the wafer on my tongue, I raise both arms in a massive double bicep flex.
I look down and see my biceps aren't the only things rising, as the front of your robe begins to tent.
MMmmmmm...
I take a step closer, shoving my monster bicep right in front of your face. I can feel your rock hard cock pressing against my quad.
"Feel it father. I know you want to."
For a moment, I see the hesitation in your eyes. But it doesn't take long for your resolve to crumble.
It doesn't matter where we are. It doesn't matter that your entire flock of sheep are looking on.
You reach out... hands trembling... to feel something truly god-like!
When you fingers come to rest on my bicep peak, I hear the gasp escape your lips.
"I want more, Father. Give me the cup."
Your hands are shaking so badly as he hold it out, that I half expect you to drop it.
I grab the cub from out and take a deep breath.
I slowly tilt it to my lips and begin to drink.
NNNnggghh... I feel the blood of Christ pumping through my veins!
My body... I can feel it growing. My muscles getting bigger... harder... YYYEESSS!!
I throw my head back, guzzling it all.
Everything feels... different! I feel like I could do anything!
I hold the cup in my hand... and squeeze.
"RRRGGGHHH!!!!"
I hear the metal whining. Resisting. But not for long. I feel it yielding to me. Crushing.
"YYYEEEAAAHHHH!!!"
I throw the crumbled ball of metal that once held the blood of Christ onto the ground, and curl my arm in a mind-melting bicep flex.
I've never seen my muscles like this! My bicep is as big and hard as a fucking child's skull!
"OOOooohhh!!"
I can feel it. My juice dripping down my inner thighs. I'm hornier than I've ever been in my life. Standing here in front of the entire church, with you drooling over my muscles.
I don't even have to say anything this time. Your hand is drawn to my arm like a magnet. You're not even trying to conceal your muscle lust anymore.
You moan as your hand explores the peaks and valleys of my man-shaming arm. As you trace the veins running over the peak.
"You're awfully quiet over there, Father. Are you doing ok?" I chuckle.
No response. Only heavy breathing.
"I have... one more fantasy, father. I... I really should confess it, don't you think?"
It's the day of my baptism. We're standing in front of the congregation. Me in my baptismal robe.
It's so big, it should hide anything. But it can't hide me. It can't hide... my muscles.
I look absolutely massive!
I can hear your words, as you pretend to play the priest. But I feel your hand.
Your mind is elsewhere.
I feel your hand squeezing my bicep.
Naughty Father. You just can't resist!
But you know I don't mind! lol
You get bolder... fanning out your fingers, letting them brush over my hard nipples.
"OOooohhh... now we're talking" I whisper to you.
After you finish your words to the congregation, you have no choice but to move on.
With your hand sneaking one last feel of my thick, expansive pecs, you slowly lower me into the baptismal pool.
And when I rise from the water, the entire audience gasps. Some in horror. Some in lust.
My robe is saturated. Clinging to every curve of my muscles. Each ab. Every vein.
I've never felt more exposed. More naked. And I fucking love it.
My clit is throbbing with desire. I hear a moan emanate from the pews.
She's been watching me the whole time. Fantasizing about what it would be like to touch me. To see ... more of me. And now she's getting what she dreamed of.
I can practically feel her eyes roaming over my body. Squeezing my pecs. Tracing the canyons between my abs.
She tries to be subtle, but I know what she's doing.
She's touching herself. Jacking off... to me. In the middle of a fucking church service.
"OOOOooohhhh GOOOOD!" she moans loudly.
No, not God. Better. ... ME.
THE END
4th of July
Some friends from work were heading to the lake for for the 4th and invited me along. I figured it’d be just another lazy afternoon with snacks, small talk, and maybe a sunburn. I had no idea it would turn out to be the best day of my life.
They told me to meet them at the park. As I walked up the gravel path and caught sight of our picnic table, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
There she was.
The most beautiful girl I’d ever seen—and somehow, impossibly, she was sitting at our table.
But she wasn't just beautiful. She was jacked! Muscles on top of muscles. And she was dressed to show it off! Tiny cutoff jean shorts hugged her powerful thighs. Her thick muscular glutes peaking out of denim that was struggling to hang on. Her tank top—red, white, and clinging—left little to the imagination.
Pumpkin-sized shoulders, veiny forearms, thick meaty biceps. Her pecs practically dared you not to stare.
I was a wreck.
Sound faded. My body forgot how to breathe. It felt like floating. Like I was unplugged from gravity itself.
"Hey, you made it!" someone called out, dragging me back to Earth.
My eyes flicked away—too late. One of my co-workers smirked.
They followed my gaze and grinned. “Oh, that’s Bella. She’s Jessica’s friend.”
My face flushed instantly. God, was it that obvious I’d been staring?
If Bella noticed, she didn’t let on.
Not yet, anyway.
She was devouring the watermelon. Juice was squirting out with every bite, running down the most muscular arms I’d ever seen.
I must’ve been panting. All I could think about was licking that juice off her bicep. Running my tongue along that thick, pulsing vein. Wrapping my hands around her arm just to feel how solid it really was.
“Oh my God, Bella, you’re getting juice everywhere!” one of her friends shrieked, laughing.
Bella glanced down, grinning as juice dripped from her forearm and across the slope of her pec.
“Oh shit!” she laughed. “I’m a mess!”
Then she looked around the table, eyes sparkling. “Alright... which one of you horn dogs is gonna come clean me up?” she teased, voice low and mischievous.
Fuck, did she really just say that?
And then—things somehow got even better.
Bella raised her arm and flexed. Slow and deliberate. Her bicep peaked like a mountain.
“OOoooooohhh!! Look at that!” she gasped with mock drama. “It just keeps getting bigger!”
Her friends were cheering her on, but I couldn’t hear a word. My pulse was roaring in my ears.
And then—she saw me.
Bella’s eyes locked onto mine like a thunderclap. Everything else disappeared.
She held the flex, squeezing harder. A smug, playful smile crept onto her face.
“What do you think?” she asked, eyes twinkling. “Which is bigger... my arm, or the watermelon?”
My knees nearly buckled.
“Hey!” someone shouted, snapping me out of my daze. “You guys quit gawking at Bella’s muscles! Josh just brought the boat to the ramp. Grab your shit—let’s go!”
“Hey, look! I found a weight!” I heard Bella shout as I reached the boat.
She had the Yeti cooler—one of the big ones—gripped in both hands like a barbell.
“Mmmmmm… pretty heavy,” she said, curling it slowly, biceps swelling with each rep. “But not heavy enough,” she added, throwing me a wink that nearly knocked me overboard before I’d even stepped in.
“Yeah, yeah,” Josh groaned, grinning. “You’re soooo big and strong. ‘Look at me! I’m Bella! I have biceps as big as the boys!’”
“Big as the boys?" Bella raised an eyebrow. "Come over here.”
Josh froze, like he suddenly realized he’d poked the wrong bear.
“Show me,” Bella said.
Josh blinked. “Show you what?”
“Your big boy muscle. C’mon, flex.” She gave a mock encouraging gesture. “Let’s see what you got, champ.”
Josh shrugged and raised his arm, flexing like he was proud of it. He even kissed the peak.
But then Bella stepped up beside him—and raised hers.
Holy. Shit.
Her bicep exploded into view, thick and round and completely dwarfing his.
“I dunno, Josh,” she said, tilting her head like she was analyzing a chart. “Kinda looks like I don’t have biceps as big as the boys. Looks to me like mine are twice as big.”
Josh gave her a shove and laughed. “Oh, fuck off! Just get in the damn boat!”
It felt amazing to be out on the water. The sun was blazing, but the breeze as we flew across the lake made it feel perfect.
I tried to act normal. Tried to make small talk. Tried act as if I wasn't completely fixated on Bella and her insane body.
It was hopeless.
Eventually, I made my way to the front of the boat, hoping distance might help me pull it together. For a minute—okay, a few seconds—it kind of worked.
But then my brain just hit replay. The watermelon juice sliding down her arm. The way her bicep flared when she curled that ice chest like it was nothing. Every second was on a loop in my mind.
Then I heard her again. That voice—low, playful, powerful.
“Hey, move over. I wanna drive!” Bella called out as she nudged Josh aside.
“Ahhh, there we go,” she said as she slid into the seat and grabbed the wheel like it belonged to her. “Much better.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “Do you always have to be in control, Bella?”
She didn’t even blink. Just gave him that look—pure alpha energy.
“I am always in control... Josh.”
Jesus. What a fucking badass.
She pushed the throttle forward, and the boat lurched as we tore across the lake. Wind whipping past, music blaring, water splashing—it was electric.
And yeah... I was totally checking her out. Zero self-awareness. Just me, openly gawking like a fool next to the hottest, most jacked woman I’d ever seen in my life.
Her arms were thick—like, thick-thick. Her abs flexed with every bounce of the boat. Every line of her body was perfection in motion.
Then I heard it: “Hey, pretty boy!”
Oh fuck.
“Uh… yeah?” I managed, somehow.
Bella’s gaze landed on me, slow and deliberate, like she was sizing me up for something.
“Why haven’t I met you before?” she asked, grinning.
“I, uh… I don’t know.” Real smooth.
Without missing a beat, she gave the wheel back to Josh, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward the rear seats.
“Come with me,” she said, calm and commanding.
She flopped down at the back of the boat, sprawling out like she owned the space. Her body was completely on display—like she wanted me to look.
“Sit,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
There wasn’t much space. I eased down next to her, and our legs pressed together. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. I could feel her quad against mine—smooth skin, solid heat underneath. She wasn’t just toned. She was hard. Dense. Alive with strength. It was like touching living marble.
She watched my face like she was reading every thought I had—and savoring all of it.
“I know you’ve been looking at me,” she said.
Heat shot through me. My face, my chest—everything felt flushed.
“You like my muscles?” Her voice was low, teasing, impossibly confident.
I could barely speak. My body was betraying me in every direction. Her voice… her confidence… the arrogance. She was so fucking sexy.
She chuckled softly. “Lost for words?”
Then she reached out and took my hand. Her palm was rough with callouses, but her grip was gentle. She guided my hand toward her stomach—slow, deliberate—until it hovered just above her abs. My fingers trembled.
She let go.
“Go ahead.”
I knew the boat was still full of people. That someone might see. Might laugh. Might say something.
I didn’t care.
I let my hand drift down.
“Ooohhh—” The sound slipped out before I could stop it. A quiet moan, completely involuntary.
Bella’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk.
I traced my fingers along the ridges of her six-pack, marveling at the way her torso shifted. She twisted slightly, just to flex the obliques—those sharp lines slicing across her sides like sculpture come to life.
Jesus.
This was something I’d only dreamed about. I never thought it would actually happen.
“So…” she said, voice silky, “what’s your favorite thing about my body?”
I looked up into her eyes. My mouth opened—but nothing came out.
She grinned. “You know what my favorite is?”
She raised her arm and flexed. Her bicep swelled, thick and peaked and perfect.
“Mmmmmm… I love my biceps,” she purred, running her fingers along the curve of the muscle. “I love that all the guys see my arms and know I’ve got them beat.”
She leaned in slightly, conspiratorial. “And the women? You have no idea how many sneak over when they think no one’s looking—asking me to flex. You should hear the sounds they make when they feel me up. The little moans they try to hide.”
My jaw dropped. I was stunned. Turned on. Completely under her spell.
I was still hanging on her every word—when suddenly, without a word, she stood up and walked away, heading to the back of the boat.
Sweet Jesus.
Her ass in those shorts—unreal. The denim was stuffed with muscle that flexed and shifted with every step, like it was alive. Like it was trying to escape. The lower curve of her glutes spilled out, daring me not to stare.
That tiny waist, flaring out into thick, meaty lats… My heart was a jackhammer. I couldn’t breathe.
Then she glanced back over her shoulder, eyes full of trouble. “You coming?” she asked. “Or you just wanna watch?”
Before I could answer, she dove—clean, graceful, like she belonged in the damn Olympics.
She disappeared beneath the surface… and stayed there. A minute passed. Then two. I started to get nervous.
Then—splash!—she broke the surface beside the boat, laughing.
Her chest was heaving. Water trickled down the deep valley between her pecs. Those beautiful breasts rising and falling as she looked up at me.
And that’s when it hit me.
I was so fucking lost. I would’ve done anything—anything—just to stay near this girl a little longer.
She must’ve seen it in my face. Hell, maybe she could read my mind.
“You sure you can keep up with me?” she asked, floating effortlessly.
I laughed—couldn’t help it. “Haha… nope,” I said with a grin.
She smiled back. One of those real smiles that hits you in the chest. I melted on the spot.
“When we get back to shore,” she said, voice low and certain, “you’re coming with me.”
Yeah. I wasn’t about to argue.
Once we got back to shore, the group started buzzing about what to do next. Most of them were voting for a bar.
“I’m taking this one with me,” Bella said, already grabbing my hand.
“Ooooh!!” Jessica laughed. “Bella’s got a new crush!”
She shot me a look. “You sure you’re ready for her? lol”
So fucking ready.
Bella gave my hand a little tug. “Come on,” she said, smiling. “We’re going to see the fireworks.”
By the time we got there, it was already getting dark. Kids were running wild with sparklers, drawing fire trails through the dusk. Parents were kicked back in folding chairs, chatting and sipping drinks.
“Hey,” I whispered to one of the kids, crouching down. “I’ll give you ten bucks for a couple of your sparklers.”
He was a money-motivated little entrepreneur—worked out great for both of us.
I turned to Bella with a grin like I was holding a secret.
“For you,” I said, holding out a sparkler like it was something sacred.
“YES!” she gasped, lighting up like a little kid. It was kind of hilarious—and wildly adorable—seeing this big, badass muscle girl lose her mind over a sparkler.
I flicked my lighter and brought it to life.
And honestly? I didn’t know which was brighter—the sparks, or her smile.
She darted out into the open grass, waving it in loops and squiggles, laughing as she danced around barefoot in the warm summer air.
“What’s this one?” she asked, turning toward me with a smirk, tracing some shape I couldn't make out.
I blinked. “No idea.”
She rolled her eyes. “A bicep, obviously.”
At least we liked the same things.
“Geez, you really have no imagination, do you?” she teased.
Then she turned toward me and flexed.
“Here—is this better?”
Her bicep swelled again, thick and perfect in the firelight. I swear, it never got old. It felt like the world stopped moving while she held the pose.
Then the music started—some dramatic, patriotic anthem crackling over nearby speakers
Bella bounced back over and grabbed my arm, tugging me toward the ground.
“Come on, lay down!”
Bella’s hand slipped into mine—slowly, gently. Her fingers laced between mine, and she gave the lightest squeeze.
Then the fireworks started.
But I didn’t care.
I wasn’t looking at the sky.
I was looking at her.
I turned my head, watching her face as the explosions lit up the field. Red, gold, blue... all of it reflecting in her eyes. And I swear—there’s no face on Earth more beautiful than Bella’s in that moment.
I sat up onto my knees. She did the same.
My gaze roamed her body, tracing every curve, every line. Drinking her in.
She leaned closer. I felt her breath on my skin.
And then—everything slowed. The night, the sounds, even the fireworks faded into nothing.
There was just her.
THE END
Muscle Exam
It had been years since Stacy had been to the doctor. Honestly, there really was no need. You couldn't find a more perfect physical specimen if you tried!
The receptionist heard the door open and looked up from her papers. She let out an audible gasp.
Stacy grinned. She loved that moment — the snap of realization. The quiet gasp. The helpless awe.
"Oh my goodness! Stacy, is that you?"
Stacy let out a giggle. The sound seemed so out of place coming from a body like... that.
"My, my... you're really grown! Doc Harris is gonna get a kick out seein' you!" the receptionist muttered as she led Stacy down the hall to the examination room.
"You just make yourself comfortable, hon. Doc 'll be with you in just a sec."
Stacy sat down on the cold examination table. The paper crinkled and tore beneath her as her thighs spread, impossibly thick and powerful, dense with muscle. Her tank top strained across her chest with every breath. The cold room made her nipples harden.
Then the door opened.
"Stacy Miller... it looks like it's been a while since we've seen you!" he said as he scanned the chart, not even bothering to glance up at Stacy.
"Mhmmm... ok... Alright, well let's just take a—"
He froze.
His clipboard dropped an inch. His lips parted. His pupils dilated like a man hit with a tranquilizer dart made of pure lust.
Stacy didn’t move. She let him drink it in — all of it. The thick, bulging biceps. The boulder shoulders. The small, innocent smile that didn’t match the devastating, impossible, mind-wrecking reality of her body.
“Hi, Doc,” she purred.
His mouth flapped open, but no sound came out.
For a full ten seconds, the doctor stood as still as a statue. Absolutely speechless. And Stacy loved it. She's always loved the reaction she gets from boys. And now, with this big... massive... beefy muscles, she gets attention from everybody.
*giggle* "Hey Doc! What's wrong, cat got your tongue?" she asked with a knowing smirk.
"I uh... you just um... no. ... It looks like you've been uh, lifting some weights." he finally bumbled.
Stacy gently tensed her pecs, pulling the fabric of her top tight.
"You noticed?" she said innocently. "I've been working really hard."
The doctor's neck began to flush. "Yes... I... I can see that."
"I started using my big brother's weight set a few years ago. At first, I thought those weights seemed so big! I never thought I'd be able to bench press that much weight."
The doctor's mouth was still hanging open as he nodded along slowly.
"Uh huh... I um... I bet you can probably bench press the weight now."
She giggled again. "Oh Doc... I can bicep curl that weight now!"
Stacy lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in. "But to be honest... I think I can probably curl a lot more than that!"
She slowly raised both arms and flexed. Her biceps rising like mountain peaks.
The doctor made a strangled sound, like he was drowning on dry land.
Stacy was beaming. She knew exactly what she was doing, and this was just the warm-up.
"That... that certainly is very impressive! And for... what, you're still in college, right Stacy?"
*giggle* "College! Oh Doc, you're so silly. You know I just turned 18!"
The doctor looked woozy, like if you breathed on him he might tip over.
"Stacy, I... I think we're going to need to do a very thorough examination today. To um... to ensure that this ... this rapidly increasing muscle mass isn't causing any problems for uh... for your heart or um... your skeletal structure."
The redness of his face told Stacy he was full of it. But this is exactly what she wanted. A very... thorough... exam.
"Could you please step on to the scale, Stacy?"
His voice cracked halfway through. Stacy smiled — slow, knowing, merciless. Then she turned.
As she stepped onto the scale, the room filled with the deep, aching groan of metal under pressure.
“Mmm… let’s see what it says, Doc,” she purred, shifting her weight just enough to make the needle tremble. "I've been working hard to put on some serious muscle."
The doctor gently nudged the weight to the right. Each notch was another gasp inside his head. Click. Slide. Tap. He swallowed.
“Let’s see… you’re at… 185 pounds.”
Stacy gasped theatrically. “Wow... When I started lifting, I was 125.” She leaned forward slightly, her voice a sultry purr. “Just think about that, Doc. That’s sixty pounds of... mmmmuscle.”
She drew the word out, let it hum against his skin like a tuning fork. His breath hitched.
She was playing with him. No — she was breaking him, piece by piece, and smiling while she did it.
The doctor fumbled with his clipboard.
“Come… Stacy,” he finally stammered. “Have a seat. I need to test your reflexes.”
Stacy stepped off the scale slowly, muscles rippling beneath her skin. She moved to the table again — hips swaying, glutes flexing with hypnotic rhythm — and sat down with a soft crinkle of the paper.
The doctor reached for his reflex hammer, trying to keep his hand steady — but his eyes betrayed him. They dropped, helplessly, magnetically, to the most impossibly thick, defined thighs he had ever seen. Each muscle was clearly defined. Thick. ... So thick!
He swallowed hard. His breath was loud in his ears — ragged, uneven. God, did she hear it? Of course she did.
With a soft tap, he struck just below her knee — and her leg exploded outward.
Not a twitch. A full extension. And she held it. Muscles swelling. Deep lines and grooves, striations... even a hint of some veins pressing against the skin.
“Ooooh!” she cooed, voice light and syrupy. “Is this supposed to happen?”
The doctor didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
His eyes locked on her leg as it began to grow. Stay flexed harder, giving it everything.
“Mmmm… ooooh wow,” she moaned, voice thick with pleasure. “Look how big it’s getting…”
His jaw dropped further with each second, and she was feasting on
The doctor’s mask of professionalism cracked.
“This is… quite… extraordinary…” he breathed, eyes wild.
He leaned in. Close. Too close. His hand hovered above her thigh — trembling — suspended like it was caught between instinct and panic. Want and fear.
Stacy’s breath tickled the back of his neck.
“Mmmmmm… my legs have gotten so big, Doc. The only thing that fits are these tiny little shorts. Everything else just rips.” She dragged a finger down the curve of her quad. “Can you imagine? Watching these monsters burst out of a pair of jeans in the middle of the mall?”
His eyes glazed over. He looked… drunk. Disoriented. Completely overtaken.
His knees buckled. He actually stumbled back half a step.
He was going to pass out. He could feel it. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer in his chest. His vision swam.
Pull yourself together, he screamed in his own head.
“A-Alright…” he managed, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m… going to need you to take a deep breath for me, Stacy. I just need to… check your abdomen…”
But his hands were trembling. And Stacy… Stacy just smiled.
Stacy slowly raised her arms, lacing her fingers behind her head. The motion made her lats flare, her biceps bulge, and her top just a little tighter.
“Ready when you are,” she said, her voice low and smoky.
The doctor hesitated, hands trembling. He slowly let his fingertips come to rest on her midsection — and gasped.
A moan escaped his lips before he could stop it.
Her skin was warm, electric. But what was beneath it? Not fat. It was like touching a sculpture. Marble wrapped in silk. His fingers wandered, helpless, tracing the deep, perfect ridges of her abs.
No… focus. Focus.
He tried to remember his training. Abdomen palpation. Gentle pressure. Circular motion. Check for—
But his fingers couldn’t press in. Her midsection was immovable. A wall of solid muscle, so tight it felt like marble.
“Stacy…” he stammered. “You… you need to stop flexing so I can do the exam…”
Stacy giggled — a pure, wicked sound.
“I’m not flexing, silly,” she said sweetly. “This… is flexing.”
And then she exhaled.
Her core crunched — and what was once a flawless six-pack suddenly transformed into something obscene. The abs deepened, thickened, each ridge swelling outward.
“Nnnnggghhh…” he moaned, body trembling as her abs hardened even more — if such a thing was possible.
She tilted her head and watched his face crumble. His breath, his posture, his self-control — all of it unraveling under her stare.
“That’s okay, Doc,” she whispered, smirking like a predator toying with her prey. “I think it’s safe to say my abs are in perfect health.”
She leaned in slightly.
“Maybe you should check my blood pressure next.”
Stacy extended her arm slowly, deliberately — the motion alone was hypnotic.
The doctor’s jaw slackened. Good Lord Almighty…
There was more muscle in that one arm than in his entire leg. That wasn’t hyperbole. That was fact.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. She just held it, letting the arm hang in space like a challenge.
He stepped forward without thinking.
His eyes traced the thick cords running up her forearm — veins like ropes, pulsing just beneath her warm, tan skin. They snaked over her elbow, running up and over her bicep.
He leaned in. Closer. His breath falling gently on her her arm. His finger twitched.
Was he examining? Or was he worshiping?
This isn't possible, his mind whispered. And yet — here she was. Smirking. Flexing.
He reached for the blood pressure cuff. Wonder, would it even fit?
He took his time wrapping it around her arm. This magnificent, glorious mass of muscle. He wanted so badly to wrap it in his hands instead. Mmmm...
As he raised the stethoscope to listen to her heart beat, he wasn't sure if it was her heartbeat he was hearing or his own pounding in his ears.
I slide his stool to listen to her lungs. As he turned the corner, he gasped. His mind couldn't believe what it was seeing. Her back was easily twice, maybe three times the width of her waist! And so thick with muscle. A mountain range of muscle. His eyes scanned each dip and valley as he tried his best to pretend to do a typical exam.
Then, he had an idea.
"Stacy, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath for me."
He couldn't see her face, but she smiled with anticipation.
Slowly, she inhaled. Her torso growing, expanding. Even without seeing his face, she knew his eyes would be bulging. And she wasn't done.
"Oh my, Stacy. This is... this is phenomenal." And then she did it.
She placed her thumbs on her waist and then, torturingly slowly, she spread her lats. Wider... wider... WIDER... The doctor thought it would never end. Her lats were so wide she was pressing into him, pushing him back of his stool.
"OOoooohhhh.... Doc, is this normal? Look, I'm almost as wide as I am tall!" she giggled.
His head was swimming. And before he even had a chance to recover, Stacy raised her arm.
"Ya know, Doc... I always wondered if I could so something."
Before he could ask what, she slowly began to bend her arm. He watched in awe as her bicep contracted into a ball. A gnarled mass of rock hard muscle. Growing bigger and bigger, stretching the fabric of the cuff. He could hear the velco straining.
"NNNngggghhh.... Look how big my muscle is, Doc. MMMMmmmm.... You think I can make it explode?"
His knees almost buckled as she said the words. It felt as if he she had said the most erotic words possible... designed to make him melt. Break.
"OOooohhh yyyyyyyea!! I can feel it... it can feel it about to give in to me!!"
The doctor steadied himself with one hand on the bed.
"RRRRAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!"
With a terrifying burst, like a gun shot, the cuff exploded off her arm.
Stacy let out a deep moan. A moan of... sexual satisfaction. Then, he smelled it. There was no doubt... the moment the cuff exploded, Stacy had a...release of her own.
And Stacy knew he knew. He saw the look of realization in his eyes as she leaned in, continuing to flex her massive muscle in his face.
"MMmmmmm.... God, Doc. You have no idea how incredible this feels.
"Go on... You've been such a good boy. Touch it."
It was too much. He tugged at his collar. His tie felt so damned tight!
Stacy smiled again. "Doc... there's one more thing I've always wanted to do. Can you help me?" she asked innocently as she batted her eyelashes at him.
"Why don't you use that stethoscope one more time."
He held the metal end out, fingers trembling. Slowly it came to rest on her beautiful chest.
"MMMmmm.... that's cold," she said as he watched the goosebumps appear on her chest and her nipples harden under her top. They looked like they were trying to poke right through the fabric.
He slowly moved the stethoscope around, feigning medicine, but... really, just... exploring. Admiring.
As the metal slide across the center of her chest, Stacy raised her arms straight in front of her, trapping the metal between her deep, thick pecs.
"Stacy!" the doctor said, startled. But Stacy's eyes were closed. She was focusing on the flex. On this moment. On what she was going to do.
"MMMmmmm.... yyyyyyes.... I love the feel of that cold, hard metal, trapped between my pecs."
Her chest was swelling, growing so big! The end of the stethoscope was almost buried in muscle.
"OOOooohhh... You have no idea what these pecs are capable of, Doc. Do you know I can bench press with three 45-pound plates on each side? ...nnnggghhh.... you should see the looks on the faces of the guys at the gym. It gets me so turned on. I always have to wipe off the weight bench after those sets. And not because of sweat! lol Ya think they smell it?"
He couldn't believe what he was hearing. And then... after what felt like an eternity, she released her flex.
"Oh... my... GOD!" he couldn't fathom what she had done. She raised the end of the stethoscope, showing off her handiwork.
*giggle* "Looks like I can do it!"
And just like that, Stacy got up and headed for the door.
"Thanks for the exam, Doc. Just let me know if I should come back soon for my... results."
THE END
Prison muscle
Reese Holloway was sentenced to life in prison, without possibility of parole, for murdering her boyfriend. Her boyfriend was a big guy—a collegiate linebacker, 6' 3" and 235 pounds. This story is fucking twisted.
It turns out he had a muscle fetish. And Reese filled that fetish and then some! When she was on the stand at her trial, she recounted what happened as if she was ... God, it sounded like she was reliving some kind of twisted fantasy. You could tell that not only did she have no remorse, she was getting off as she walked everyone through what happened.
How he begged her to get her muscles pumped up for her. So big that she could flex out of her clothes. He he begged her to flex for him. To let him run his hands over her massive, rock hard, sweaty muscles.
Then she talked about arm wrestling him. She had the most terrifying smile on her face. Describing how her bicep swelled up as big as his head. Thick worm-like veins fanning out all over her muscle. She talked about how her big strong boyfriend... a guy who would crush anybody else... struggled... with both hands.
She licked her lips as she described how easy it was for her. How... how she slipped her free hand under the table and jacked him off while she completely dominated him with her other. Just imagine that! This big football player, red in the face, trying with both hands and every ounce of effort he has, and this girl. Not only is she holding her own with one arm, but she's fucking jacking him off, and smirking at him through it all!
I felt my stomach drop! I don't know if this girl was full of shit, making up stories, but the way she said it. She sure sounded like she was telling the truth. But that would mean... it would mean... Fuck, I don't even know what it means. She scared the shit out of me.
But that was nothing. Because after she pinned his hand to the table... holding it there... making sure he knew just how strong she was. As she leaned in, whispering into his year. "I'm going to break you." And she felt him explode in her hand. She yanked him up out of his chair, one hand grabbing the front of his shirt, and the other grabbing a fist full of his jeans right in front of his crotch.
With a brutal yell, she curled the 230-pound linebacker up to her chest like a barbell. Her eyes locked on her reflection in the mirror across the room. And then she started curling. Over... and over... and over again. Moaning with pleasure as she watched her arms swell even bigger. He was moaning too. Intoxicated by her muscles and her strength.
But she was going too far. Lost in muscle lust. She pressed him up over head, lowering him down to her chest, then pressing up again. It was too much for him. He was rock hard again. She was so fucking lost... juices dripping down her legs as she watched her reflection. Wishing she could fuck herself. Needing release.
That's when it happened. She lowered him on her shoulders and started to pull down. His back being forced into a horrifying bent position. His hard cock standing straight up, even through the pain.
"No one!... NO ONE can match me! Just LOOK at me!!!" she roared as she flexed every muscle in her body.
Her nipples were hard. Legs were soaked. Inner thighs trembling as she rode the edge of a powerful orgasm. But she needed more.
"NNNNGGGHHH!!!! YYYYEESSS!!!" She FLEXED... harder!! His body bent. Further! His dick got... harder.
"FUUCK!!! YESSSSS CUUUUUUMM FOR MEEEEEE!!!!" As she pulled down with all her strength, he blasted ropes of thick hot cum straight up into the air, and it came raining down on her impossible wide and thick pecs.... her deep defined abs. Her bowling ball delts.
"OOOOOHHHHHH YEEAAAAHHHH!!!! UUUUUNNNGGGHHH!!!!" She exploded with pleasure, tensing every muscle as she bucked and spasmed. By the time she was done, he lay in a broken heap on the floor. Motionless. Broken. Gone.
She didn't even look at him. She was just staring at her reflection. Smearing his release over her muscles as she slowly walked over to the 100-pound dumbbells and began doing curls.
... I swear to God. As she told the story in court, I ... I could smell her arousal drifting through the courtroom. She was reliving it in her mind. I could see her tensing her muscles. The way it made her clothes shift and tighten. Little veins becoming visible on her neck. One of the few areas of skin that was exposed.
Fuck... This bitch needs to go away for life. She's a MONSTER!
I've been a guard at Blackridge Correctional Facility for Women for 18 years, and I've never seen anything like it. Like... her.
If you saw her from the neck up, you'd think she was any normal, pretty, privileged, rich white girl. Definitely not the kind of girl who would end up in the roughest female prison in the country.
But once you look down below the neck... Good God! Her arms were absolutely stuffed with thick, veiny muscles. Her skin looked tight, like it could barely contain her.
I couldn't help it. My eyes were roaming over every inch of her. I'd... I'd never felt this... feeling. It's like she generates some kind of energy that just pulled me in.
The moment she stepped off the bus, it was clear she wasn't like anyone else. There was no trace of nerves. Anxiety. Fear. Even though she was a kid compared to the other women here, she looked like she owned the place.
And I'm not talking about, 'I'm gonna puff up my chest and act tough.' No, like in her core, she knew she was untouchable. And I would come to find out, she wasn't.
As she walked through the corridor of the prison, all eyes were on Reese.
"Hey baby, you get lost on the way to the country club?"
"Uh oh! Daddy couldn't buy your way outta this one, huh Chica?"
Reese had a smile on her face the whole time. Like she knew something they didn't.
Then, she stopped at her cell.
"Oh shit! They stuck her with Roxy?? She gonna be dead by breakfast! LOL"
The heavy iron bars slowly slid into place, locking with a low clang. And then they were alone.
Roxy walked up so close that Reese could feel and smell her breath washing over her face.
"You're pretty." she said in a cold, emotionless tone. "I'm gonna like lookin' down on that pretty face of yours while you work that tongue."
Reese just looked up at Roxy with a smirk. That's not something that had ever happened before, and Roxy was clearly thrown off.
"The fuck you smirkin' at you little bitch?" she asked.
"I just think you're a little confused on who's gonna be working their tongue," Reese responded.
Reese stepped back... raised her arm...
"What the fuck???" Roxy blurted out.
Roxy looked at Reese with a confused expression. Who the fuck was this pretty girl kid who acted like she wasn't even scared. Was she just stupid?
Reese had a sparkle in her eye, and a smug smirk tugging at her lip.
"You see..." she said. "I'm the one who makes everybody else my bitch."
She slowly raised an arm. It was surprisingly thick. It's funny, thought Roxy. She doesn't LOOK chubby. But then... she started to bend her arm. Curling it.
"Everybody always sees my face, and they think I'm just some pretty rich girl. And yeah... hehe... I am pretty. And I am rich. But I got more than that... a whole lot more."
She flexed her arm in slow motion. Roxy's eyes grew as Reese's bicep grew. Bigger... and bigger.
"Nobody can believe the body I've built. It's sooo... biiiig." she moaned as she completed her flex.
"MMMmmmm... just look at it. Tell me that doesn't make you wet."
Roxy gasped at the audacity of this girl. But she meant it. And... fuck, she wasn't wrong. Roxy could feel the heat washing over her face. Every inch of her skin felt electric. Her head was swimming.
"Yeah, that's right. I can see it all over your face. If I told you to right now, you'd be on your knees worshipping these muscles."
She slowly flexed her arm again and again. Each time, the muscle grew bigger... and bigger.
"OOOooohhh... Fuck, it feels so good being me. MMMmmmm... Watch closely."
Reese squeezed her arm hard. The arm quaking from the intensity of the flex. Reese kept her eyes locked on Roxy. "Keep watching."
Roxy heard it before she saw it. The sound of fabric... straining... failing... Stitches popping.
"OOoohh YYEAH! You hear it? ... nnngghh... That makes my clit tingle like nothing else."
Then, the seam split open. Surrendering to the biggest arm Roxy had ever seen on a woman. Fuck that... on anybody.
Reese licked her lips. "I see your legs trembling. Now who was it that was gonna be working their tongue? LOL"
Roxy stepped forward, drawn to the massive arm. But Reese put her hand on Roxy's face and shoved her forcefully back against the wall of the cell.
"No... not yet." she said.
Reese stripped out of her orange jumpsuit and changed into a white tank top. Roxy gasped when she got her first real sight of Reese.
Fuck! She's just eighteen! Reese got down on the floor and got into a push-up position.
"I'm gonna do some pushups. It'll be a while. Don't... fucking... disturb me."
Roxy just stood there dumbfounded as Reese started doing push-ups like a machine. It looked like she could go forever. It must of been at least 30 minutes before Reese even started to sweat!
Then... oh God... Reese pulled one arm behind her back and continued doing one-armed push-ups.
"NNNnggghhh... that's it.... finally feeling the pump." And God damn! She was pumped all-right. Roxy could see veins running across her thick, striated pecs.
With each incredible rep, Reese lowered herself low, until her long, hard nipples touched the cold cement floor. She paused there with each rep, moving slightly, rubbing her nipple against the floor, before pressing up again.
How long had it been? An hour? More??
Reese was really sweating now. Stray strands of her sweat-soaked hair clinging to her cheeks.
Her reps were slowing. For the first time, she showed signs of being human.
"RRRGGGHHH!!!! ... NO!! ....MMmmmm.... MMMMORE!!!"
And then Reese did something that was equal parts disturbing and the most fucking arousing thing Roxy had ever seen... imagined in her life.
Reese spread her legs wide, still in a one-armed push-up position. And with a gasp of arousal, she slipped her free hand down her shorts.
"MMMmmm... that's it... Come on baby." She slowly lowered herself down for another rep as her ringers worked beneath the fabric of her shorts.
Roxy couldn't look away. Reese's muscles were swollen, slicked with sweat, covered with veins. She looked twice the size as when she had started.
"Yeah baby! NNNGHH!!! GET... FUCKING... BIGGER!!! RRRRAGGHH!!" She cranked out rep after rep, grunting with each rep. But over it all, she could hear the wet sloshing as she furiously worked her other hand, hidden from view.
After one final, gut wrenching rep, Reese stood up, face to face with Roxy.
"You smell that?" Reese asked. "That's what a REAL woman smells like."
Her scent was intoxicating. Overpowering. Reese grabbed Roxy by the back of the head with shocking power. And in one smooth, controlled motion, she shoved her head down between her legs.
"Get to work."
After Reese had taken everything she wanted from her cell mate. The supposed queen of the prison, she went to the showers to clean up.
As she stripped out of her clothes, she looked like a beast from behind. And she was. She was a predator.
As she entered the showers, she saw one of the inmates. She recognized her from the bus. She'd been staring at Reese's body the whole trip. Tracing every curve of every muscle with her eyes.
Reese was still hungry for more. She had an insatiable appetite for being worshipped.
She slowly approached as the other inmate. Even before she turned to see her, she could sense something... big approaching.
The inmate turned and gasped when she saw Reese. All the fantasies she'd had as she watched her on the bus... here they were coming to life.
Reese stepped closer. Grabbed the soap and placed it in the inmates hands.
The inmate's breathing was heavy. It was hard to think. Hard to move. It was like she was frozen. Intimidated just being in the presence of ... of this perfect specimen.
Reese grabbed her wrist and guided her hand into place. She began to rub the soap over Reese's bicep. Reese flexed ... making her peak rise higher.
"Oooohhh..." the inmate didn't even realize she was moaning.
"Squeeze it," Reese said. The inmate used her other hand to caress and squeeze the giant muscle. It was so slick. The skin so soft. But under the thin layer of skin, it felt like rock.
Reese smirked as she released the flex. Letting her feel the mass. The heaviness of the muscle.
Slowly, she extended her arm. "Grab on. Hold it tight."
The inmate did as she was told, and Reese flexed again. The inmate gasped as she felt the muscle swell in the palm of her hand. Like a balloon inflating.
"Oh God" she moaned. She watched as Reese's nipples responded to her moans, pressing against her wet tank top.
She let her hands roam... spreading out over her thick, muscular pecs. Sliding over the slick skin of her shoulders. "MMMmmm...." they were like pumpkins!
Reese turned around. She placed her hands on her waist and flared her back out in a jaw-dropping lat spread.
The inmate felt throbbing between her legs. Her knees felt weak. Her head was almost spinning as she reached out, filling her hands with Reese's lats.
The grabbed the soap again, lathering her hands, and then letting them slide over the mountains of muscle.
"Fuck... you're... perfect."
The yard was buzzing with energy. Anna, a fucking huge Mexican gangster had been at the bench press. Women gathered around her as she bench pressed 225-pounds. She looked impressive as she pressed the pressed the bar up again and again... two plates on each side.
After 8 reps, she sat up. Her face red from exertion. She pounded her chest hard with her fist.
"That's right bitches! Ain't nobody gonna fuck with me! I can snap any bitch in here like a twig!"
Then we heard Reese from behind the crowd of women.
"You gonna snap me like a twig?" she asked as she stepped forward.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. It was the new girl. And by girl, they really meant girl. Barely 18! She looked like she should have been in English class, no the yard. But they'd heard rumors.
She's in the same cell as Roxy, but Roxy hasn't said anything about Reese. In fact, she's been steering clear of her since the first night. And that's just... not in character for Roxy!
And there were whispers that something went down in the showers with Lexa, the quiet one. But nobody really knows what.
But here she is walking up to Anna, like she's not scared. Hell, like she's the alpha here, and that's just... fucking crazy!
She slowly walked behind the barbell, running her ringer down the plates and then the bar.
"Oooohhh... heavy weights. You must be real strong." She said it like she meant it, but she was clearly fucking with Anna.
"I'll admit, it's kinda hard to see if you have any muscles under all that fat." Reese said.
The group of women erupted in jeers. "OOOOOH SHIT!!! No she didn't!!! Little miss trust fund's about to get her ass whooped!!"
They all saw Anna's face turn red with fury. She started to walk up to Reese when Reese lifted the barbell off the rack. Lifted... the fucking 225-pound barbell off the rack in her hands!!
Anna and everybody else froze.
"MMmmmm.... Yeah... heavy weight. I fucking love it." The way Reese said it... like... with fuckin' lust in her tone. We all felt our stomachs drop. I don't know what was going on, but... but I felt woozy!
But that was just the start. Then she started curling the barbell. Slowly... but not because it was hard. Because she was savoring it.
"Ooooohhhh... Look at those biceps, ladies. Have you ever seen anything like that?" She knew they hadn't. Big as softballs. Harder. Veins like worms squirming on top of the impossible muscles.
She lowered the bar just to curl it again, with just as much ease. Her breathing was intoxicating. It sounded like a woman building up to an orgasm. There was clearly more going on in this moment for her than just bicep curls.
I watched as veins started to appear under the skin of her pecs. As the sweat dripped down her neck, through the deep canyon between her pecs. Oh God... she was magnificent.
As I watched her curl the weight over and over, I realized what this was. This was ... this was masturbation for her. She was getting off curling this insane weight. Having all our eyes on her. She was toying with us and she loved it.
But this was just the start.
Reese lowered the barbell and walked over to the pull-up bar. She leapt up, grabbing of the bar with a grace that's hard to describe.
Slowly, she pulled herself up. Not all the way. She didn't pull her chin over the bar. That wasn't her goal. She was flaring her lats out. So wide I could hear the stitches of her jumpsuit popping.
This wasn't about the exercise. It was a demonstration. She wanted us to see her. How fucking thick and wide she was. MMmmmm... And God, was she wide. I wanted to walk up and take those thick lats in my hand.
She held the pose for what felt like an eternity. Letting us look on in awe for as long as we wanted.
She shifted her hands on the bar. Finally lowering herself back to the ground. At least, that's what I thought.
She lowered herself down. Her arms were straight. And just as I thought she was going to drop to the ground, she let go with one hand.
But she didn't drop.
We heard a deep growl. Like a fucking bear.
"RRRRrrrrggghhhh...."
And then slowly she started to rise. Pulling herself up with one arm. Oh God! I'd never seen anything like that. I wanted to start touching myself right there in the yard as I watched this... I don't even know what to call her. This... fucking muscle goddess doing one armed pull-ups.
Her arm was exploding in size. It looked as big as a cantaloupe! I imagined what it would be like to hold it in my hands. To feel my lips pressed against the soft skin. What the muscle would feel like underneath. MMmmmm...
I wondered... what would happen if I hung from that massive arm? Could she hold me? Would she fall? Or would she... would she just do another rep?
"OOooooohhhh...." I couldn't resist. I let out a moan, but nobody noticed. Because we were all feeling it. And she knew.
"RRRRAAGGHHH..." She let out another deep grunt. Rep after rep, like she could go until she chooses to stop!
"RRRrrrrrraghh.... SO..... NNNGgggghhh... FUCKING..... rrrrrggghhhh... STRRROOONG!!!" she grunted through clenched teeth.
When I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Reese dropped from the pull-up bar. The sheen of sweat on her body made her muscles look even more incredible.
She turned and looked right at me. I felt like she was looking straight into my soul. Like she could read every thought.
Then she raised both arms and slammed them down into a most muscular pose so intense it felt like the Earth shook!
"RRRRAAAGGHHH!!!!" She held the pose... Her arms shaking violently. Fists clenched so tight her knuckles were white. Oh fuck... I even saw a little trickle of blood where he fingernails were digging into the palm of her hands.
She had to stop... it was too much! But she didn't.
"UUUUUNNNGGHH!!!" She let out the most sensual moaning sound I'd ever heard. Her muscles even bigger than before. Veins pressing against her skin... everywhere!
I heard the sound that was all to familiar to me now... the popping of stitches... The tearing of fabric. I felt my head start to swim... my knees were weak.
"YYYYYEEESSSS!!!!" she roared as everything went black and I collapsed to the ground.
When I came to, it was all over. But all I could think about was Reese. She consumed my every thought.
When I closed my eyes, I saw her on the pull-up bar. Her lats stretching her jumpsuit to the breaking point. The look in her eyes as she began doing one-armed pull-ups. The roar when she locked eyes on me and flexed every muscle to the max.
It's not supposed to be like this. I'm a guard, for Christ's sake! Yet, all I wanted to do was break IN to Reese's cell. To beg her to let me see... to touch her incredible muscles.
Would she? Would she let me?
MMmmm.... I found myself drifting deeper and deeper into the fantasy. Imagining that she wanted me to. That she loved the attention. That she wanted to show off for me.
I imagined her inviting me to to wrap my arms around her. Wherever I wanted. Free rein to explore.
She flexed for me. Her bicep swelling bigger and bigger, until it was so big it was all I could see!
"Ooooohhh... fuck!! REESE!!" I slowly let my hand slide south, when I was jarred back to reality by the sound of the prison alarm.
Reese grabbed the bars. She'd done plenty of incredible things. But nothing... nothing compared to what she was about to attempt.
She grabbed the cold steel bars. They felt familiar... like grabbing a barbell. But at the same time, they were completely foreign. Rugged.
And then she started. She pulled. Roxy was on her bed, watching. There was no fucking way. Right?... Right??
NNNNNnnnggghhhh!!!!
Nothing was happening. Well, I shouldn't say nothing. Reese was growing. Her muscles were expanding. Veins were popping.
But through it all, that face! That face that looked like it belonged in high school English class. Daddy's little girl. Daddy's perfect girl.
RRRRRrrrraaaaagggghhhh!!!
She growled like a beast, and she was starting to look like one. The jumpsuit looked three sizes too small. Her lats, back, shoulders, all straining the fabric, when... RRRIIPPP!!! It split right down the back.
Her sleeves failed next. The biceps and triceps swelling so big they explode from her arm. She let out an orgasmic gasp as she felt the fabric surrender.
"YYYEESSS!!!" she moaned.
And then... it happened. The impossible. Roxy heard the sound and literally pissed her pants. The sound of iron screaming. The sound of the bars submitting. Begging for mercy.
The screaming sound of the iron bars bending pierced the air.
"YYYEESS!!! ... SO... FUCKING.... SSSSTTTRRROOOONGGG!!!" Reese moaned as she bent the bars to her will.
It was slow. Painfully slow. Centimeters at a time, but she was doing it!
Roxy smelled it all the way from her bunk. The familiar scent of Reese's arousal.
Roxy watched in horror as more and more of Reese's grotesque muscles forced their way out of her clothes. So fucking thick and sweaty. Veins... thick pulsing veins everywhere! And Reese, moaning, got off on her seemingly limitless power.
Roxy whimpered in fear as one hand slipped between her legs. She'd never been more scared in her life. And never more turned on.
After five grueling minutes of moans, yells, and the sound of iron screaming for mercy, she had done it. Reese... in the tatters of what was left of her jumpsuit, stepped out of her cell.
She was free.
THE END
Cass’s Revenge
All she talks about is Emily. Her muscles. What she did at the party. At first, I thought it was awe—maybe even attraction—but no. It's hate. Pure, blinding hate.
She just couldn't stand that somebody, anybody, beat her. She'd gotten so used to being the center of attention back at the university. All the boys wanted to fuck her. All the girls wanted to be her. Cass loved the attention. The power.
And then... Emily! She didn't just beat Cass at arm wrestling—she crushed her. In front of everyone. With a slow, smirking cruelty, like she was savoring the humiliation.
But the thing no one talks about—the thing Cass won’t talk about—is what happened when Emily pinned her. The way Emily… came. Visibly. Violently. As if the domination itself pushed her over the edge.
Everyone saw it. Everyone felt it. And I think that moment is what broke Cass.
I stopped by her place this morning. Her apartment was a mess, and I found her in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, gribbing a tube of lipstick like a weapon.
I'm sending you a picture I took before she saw me.
She looked bigger, harder than I'd ever seen her. The way her forearms were swelling as she gripped the countertop. But it was her face that stopped me cold.
She was staring into the mirror, lips curled into a snarl, muttering something under her breath. She'd written all over the mirror with her lipstick—"Never again!", "Get. Fucking. BIGGER!", "Break her bones!"
Jesus.
And taped right next to it was a Polaroid of Emily from that night. Leaning back on the couch, letting some dude feel up her abs. With that same bitch ass smirk she always has on her lips! Only, Cass had crossed out her face, like she was a hitman on a mission.
Then, I heard Cass let out a deep growl as she squeezed the countertop harder, glaring more intensely at Emily's photo, until.... *CRUNCH!*... She crushed the edge of the counter in her fucking hands!
Honestly, I don't know if I'm more worried for Cass... or Emily.
I'll keep you posted.
As I was leaving, I had to walk past her kitchen counter. What a fucking mess. It's like her only existence is to lift and grow.
There were unmarked pill bottles everywhere, some of them knocked over. Some spilled whey powder.
I dipped my finger in it out of curiosity, thinking it was either vanilla or birthday cake flavor. But the tastes—sharp, bitter, kind of chemical. Not whey!
Then it hit me.
Coke. Cass is using fucking cocaine. To work out!
While I was standing there, trying to wrap my head around that, I noticed this notepad next to her sink. He workout notes.
You're not going to believe it. She went from 20-pound dumbbell curls to 50 pounds in just over two weeks! But really made my stomach drop was reading how she wrote "Fucking EASY!" at the bottom.
I'm going back tomorrow night. I have to try and talk to her. She's spiraling. Going way too far! I'll keep you posted.
Danny didn’t even flinch when I came in. He barely looked up. Just kept steadying her arm, the needle already buried deep in her shoulder. His other hand braced her bicep, fingers spread across the granite slab of muscle, like he needed both hands to handle it.
And Cass—Jesus. She wasn’t even tense. She was leaning into it. Eyes half-lidded, jaw slack, breath shallow and hungry.
“MMMmmm... I can feel it,” she moaned, her voice thick and sultry, like she was getting off on it. “Fuck. It's like pure power running through me.”
I wanted to say something. I should’ve said something. But I couldn’t. I was frozen.
Because her arm—right there in front of me—swelled. I’m not exaggerating. It was like I could see the muscle thickening in real time. Her delts puffed up—vascular, hard as stone—her pecs twitching with every beat of her heart. Her veins looked angry.
She looked down at her arm and smiled. But it wasn’t the smile I remembered. It was something else. Something darker. Predatory.
Danny calmly capped the syringe and started packing up like this was just another Tuesday. Cass rolled her shoulders, then slowly flexed her arm.
Her bicep peaked so high, I half-expected it to tear through her skin. The tank top looked tiny on her now—like it belonged to a girl half her size. But I think Cass liked it that way.
Then she locked eyes with me. “You came,” she said. Not a question—more like a statement of fact. “Good. You’re going to want to see this.”
Cass walked over to the barbell in the corner.
“I saw you looking through my stuff on the counter as you left last night.”
My face went hot—cheeks, neck, ears. Like I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
“I saw you taking a picture of my notepad. Fifty-pound dumbbell curls. You looked impressed,” she said, smirking.
“Are you fucking kiding, Cass? Anybody would’ve been impressed. People
don’t just curl 50 pounds with one arm! Especially when you were curling 20 pounds less than three weeks ago. But I guess that’s what happens when you’re on fucking steroids!”
Cass just laughed. “Oh, Tiff… I wasn’t on steroids then. That was all me. You can’t even imagine what I’m capable of when I really want something. And I really want to humiliate Emily. To break her. Make her want to crawl into a corner for the rest of her fucking life.”
She stepped toward the barbell, running her fingertips along the cold steel.
“Besides… those notes are old. I don’t have big enough dumbbells for a good pump anymore. That’s why you’re here. You’re going to help me.”
Cass began loading the barbell. A 45-pound plate on each side. Then another 10.
“Cass… that’s…” I quickly did the math. “That’s 135 pounds!”
The look she gave me made my stomach drop. She was savoring it. Savoring me.
“I know,” she said. “It should be a good warm-up.”
My legs nearly buckled. She had to be fucking with me. No one curls that. For most guys, that’s bench press weight.
Then she reached down and gripped the bar. I watched, hypnotized, as her muscles came to life—swelling, flexing, shifting under her skin like coiled beasts. She let out the sexiest fucking sigh as she stood up with the weight. Cass has always been sexy. But now? Now she was something else entirely.
Cass closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, slow and deep. Then the bar began to rise.
The plates clattered.
“NNNNnnnnggghhhh... Oh yeah. This feels fucking amazing.”
She looked like she was having sex.
“Mmmm... Look at them. Look at my arms. I was trying to think of how to describe them yesterday. Baseball? Softball? Then I realized—more like a fucking coconut… RRRAAGHHH!!”
She powered through rep after rep, like she could go forever.
“My muscles are so big. So pumped. My skin feels tight, like they could burst through. I feel so... so fucking STRONG!!!”
I’d never seen her like this. Honestly? The only thing I could compare it to was watching a porn video—right as the girl’s building to orgasm. With every rep, Cass was climbing. Shuddering. Getting off.
And then... she opened her eyes.
“I need more weight,” she growled, her voice thick with hunger. “But this is all I have.”
She looked right at me. Smiled.
“I want you to grab the middle of the bar and try to pull it down.”
“I need more!” Cass moaned—no, pleaded—like she was on the edge of a release she couldn't quite reach.
I just stood there, mouth hanging open. Just to curl 135 was insane, but to... to ask me to actually try and pull down on it at the same time!
Cass looked desperate—desperate for more pressure, more pain, more power. Her eyes were wild, hungry.
I reached out. My hand was trembling. She saw it and growled with pleasure.
I wrapped my hand around the bar. Cold. Hard. I just reminded me how impossible this was.
"Puuuulllllll!!!" Cass roared.
I pulled. Nothing.
“Oooooohhhh yyyeeeaaahhhh…” she moaned, eyes glued to the veins swelling across her biceps. "Emily can't compete with me. With this!"
She was gone—completely over the fucking edge.
I pulled harder. With everything I had. I didn’t want to be part of this anymore. I wanted to stop her. To prove she still had limits. To show her she was still human. That there was a ceiling. Something.
The bar started to dip. Slowly. Agonizingly. Her arms extended, inch by inch
A flicker of hope—relief—something—rushed through me. But when I looked up, Cass was smiling.
She bit her lower lip. Her eyes locked onto mine with a glint of pure, sadistic pleasure.
“Watch me,” she whispered.
I was still pulling with everything I had—my full body weight hanging on the bar—but it didn’t matter.
Her arms swelled. Freakish. Monstrous. Her biceps ballooned, her shoulders flared, traps rose.
"NO ONE... CAN... STOP... MEEEEE!!!!" she roared as she completed the rep. Holding the weight... fucking FLEXING every muscle of her body.
Then I saw it. A wet patch spreading across the front of her shorts.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t break. She held the flex.
“NNNNGGGHHH!!”
Her whole body trembled—not from weakness, but from release. She came—violently, powerfully—while flexing. The scent hit me a second later: sharp, animalistic, intoxicating.
Emily is fucked.
(From Emily's perspective)
Are you kidding me? Cass is trying to get big?? LOL You gotta be kidding me!
If that pretty girl worked out twice a day and was on the juice, I'd still have more muscle in my bicep than she has in her fucking leg!
Just look at this shit! I'm a beast!!
MMMmmm... Fuck. I measured again today. 17.5 inches baby! And look at this sick vein running over top! Thick as a worm! LOL Makes me looking like a fucking monster! RRRRAAGGGHH!!!
I bet if I sent this to Cass, that bitch would get so wet. Dreaming she could have muscles like this. Haha... Hell, it's making me wet! MMMmm..... Time to go flex in the mirror... Get a little bit of private me time!
When we got to the bar, there was a welcoming party waiting for us.
A fucking biker gang of bodybuilders. Since when did that become a thing??
They stared Cass down like they wanted to beat the shit out of her. Thought she was just some pretty girl. And the Pump Room is know for... well, it's not about being pretty. It's about being BIG!
"What's a pretty little thing like you doing at the Pump Room? You come to look at some real women?"
Cass just stood there, stone faced. Like she was watching a performance. This really pissed off the leader of the gang. She's used to people shaking in their boots at the mere sight of them.
She walked right up to Cass.
"You one of those muscle sluts who gets off lookin' at big biceps?"
Cass just smirked. The biker raised her arm. At first, I thought it looked kinda chubby. But then she flexed. I gasped. It was all muscle! It kept rising and rising until it was as big as a football.
"How about this, girlie? Does this make you wet? You wanna touch it? You wanna kiss my big muscle?"
When the biker shoved her massive flexed bicep in Cass's face. Trying to intimidate her. Toy with her. Whatever the fuck she was doing. Cass just chuckled.
I swear to God, I thought smoke was going to start coming out of the biker's ears.
"I have business here." Cass said, calm and collected, like the biker has no effect on her.
The biker scoffed. "Nobody goes in The Pump Room unless they deserve to be there. And a pretty face ain't gonna cut it. You gotta be big. You gotta be jacked. You gotta be a muscle freak!"
Cass slowly reached for the top of her jacket. One by one, she slowly unbuttoned it. And then... she pulled it open, like she was unveiling a masterpiece. And she was!
The bikers let out a collective gasp. Cass looked perfect.
"I think I've got the muscles covered. Now get the fuck out of my way."
When we got in, Cass headed right for the bartender. Fuck, even the bartender was jacked.
"Where's Emily?" she asked her. No small talk. No hey, how's it going. I've never seen Cass like this. It's like she only exists for revenge!
"Who wants to know?" she responded with a scowl.
"Cass."
After a brief pause, the bartender let out a deep laugh.
"You're her! haha ... Oh we heard all about you! The pretty girl who went away to college and thought she got some muscles. We all heard how Emily kicked your ass at the party a while back. Did you cry, pretty girl? LOL"
Cass reached out and grabbed the bartender by the wrist. She leaned in, a snarl on her lips and growled to the bartender—"I said where... the fuck... is Emily?"
Cass squeezed the bartenders wrist. The woman's laugh faded instantly and transformed into a look of pain. Cass stared daggers at her, and squeezed... harder! I could see the muscles of her forearm straining her sleeve.
The bartender grimaced and then started to whimper. "Fucking let go, you BITCH!"
That was not that right thing to say to Cass right now. Cass squeezed even harder, making the woman yell in pain.
"OOOWWWW FUCK!!! You broke my fucking wrist, you CUNT!"
Cass turned her attention to the rest of the bar. Where's Emily?
Cass left the bartender nursing her broken wrist, while she roamed the bar looking for Cass. She looked like a predator in search of prey!
I followed behind her, just trying not to be seen. Any one of the bitches in this bar could snap me in half if they wanted to. Cass clearly didn't share my concern!
She walked up to a group of women at the pool table. "Where the fuck is Emily?"
Jesus Christ! These girls were... well, two of them looked like they came right off the cover of Sports Illustrated, but with an extra 50 pounds of muscle! And behind them was the biggest fucking woman I've ever seen in my life. At a glance, you'd be forgiven for just thinking she was stocky. But this is The Pump Room. That meant it had to be all muscle! The realization made my stomach drop.
The girl in green smirked at Cass. "You're her, aren't you? That girl that Emily humiliated at the party.
As Cass stood face to face against the girl in the green bikini top, she slowly stripped out of her jacket. I couldn't help but gasp. She looked fucking incredible.
The changes I'd watched in Cass over the last weeks has really changed things for me. I've never once in my live found girls attractive, but ... I don't know what it is. Is it the muscles? The confidence? That absolute fucking dominance?
Whatever it is, I'd never been more turned on than when I saw these two muscle goddesses staring each other down. I kept dreaming they would strip out of those tops and press up against each other, rubbing each others muscles. MMMmmm.... God... they were too much.
"Hmmmm... looks like the pretty girl must have been hitting the weights since then." said the girl in green.
Cass was calm. Taking deep breaths that made her pecs strain her sports bra. Her lats were so thick I thought for sure the top would burst.
"If you're gonna be in The Pump Room, you gotta show you deserve to be here. So... let's see what you got."
They sat down at a table without saying a word. Their eyes locked on each other.
For a minute, nothing but silence. The sounds of their breathing. I watched the other girls eyes drift. Slowly roaming over Cass's body. I couldn't blame her. Cass looked fucking perfect!
Cass clearly had the size advantage. I thought she'd win, but that other girl. She had a fucking fire inside her.
I was finally snapped out of my daze when I heard one of the other girls shout, "GO!"
Immediately, the red-headed girl launched into a full assault. Every ounce of strength she had!
"RRRGGGGHHH!!!!!" Fuck, her tits looked like they were gonna spill out of her top and she would have no idea. She was lost in the struggle.
Her arm quaked with effort. But all I could focus on was Cass!
She... shit... I'm getting light-headed just remembering it. Remembering the look on her face. It was... calm! Pure fucking CALM , like she wasn't exerting any effort at all.
And looking at her arm, I could tell. She wasn't! I'd seen her in her apartment. Curling insane amounts of weight. I watched her arms balloon with so much muscle, there's not a shirt on the planet her muscles wouldn't have exploded through.
But this! ... It was like she was arm wrestling a little kid.
Then Cass started to talk. So quiet I had to lean in to hear.
"You bitches think you're hot shit. Strutting around showing off your biiiig haaard muscles."
The other girl continued to struggle and strain. Spit spraying through her teeth, determined not to lose.
"But the truth is... your muscles are pathetic. Soft. All show. You can't even fathom what I'm capable of."
Slowly, Cass began to squeeze her hand. The other girl's eyes snapped open and I saw a look of terror in her eyes. "No... NO!!! ... PLEASE!!! NNNGGGHHH!!!"
Cass squeezed harder.... HARDER... A sadistic grin appearing on her face, when the giant of a woman stepped out over the shadows and shoved Cass back from the table.
I knew she was big, but seeing her standing next to Cass... holy fucking shit! She was a MONSTER!
"You little cunt! Who do you think you are?"
She reached out with her massive paw and grabbed a fist full of Cass's tit. Jesus Christ! It must have hurt like hell, but Cass didn't even flench. And she sure as hell didn't back down. She looked like she was ready to mop the floor with that giant muscle freak.
I was trying to figure out what the hell to do... should I get help? Just watch? ... when I heard the sound of the door slamming open.
My head whipped around to see what the noise was and it was... oh my GOD!... It was Emily, but ... she's even BIGGER!
I should have been terrified. I should have run out the back door. But ... MMMmmmmm.... the moment I saw her. Those arms as big as my legs. But stuffed with big... hard... mmmmmuscles.... ooooh, my clit was tingling. It was like she opened a tap. I could feel my juices leaking down the inside of my thighs.
I wanted to jump on her and grind my wet pussy on her abs. Her massive peaked bicep. OOOooohhh...
And then... I remembered. Cass. Oh fuck.
What is Emily going to do to Cass THIS time???
Cass and Emily came together like they were drawn to each other by gravity.
Seeing them standing side by side, I couldn’t believe how big they’d both gotten. But as insane as Cass’s growth had been over the last months… Emily! Fucking GOD! I didn’t even know a girl could get muscles like that!
She looked like a man. But… lol… not really. Not any man I’ve ever seen. It’s like every girls horny fantasy of a big muscle man! MMMmmm… fuck! It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. At least… for a few more seconds!
I was finally woken up by Cass’s smooth, sexy voice.
“I bet you’ve never seen muscles quite like this, have you Emily.” She brought her arm up in the most incredible bicep flex.
I wanted to pounce on it. To lick my tongue over the peak. And for a second, it think Emily wanted to too! I saw it in her eyes.
The arrogant, cocky, self-centered Emily… she showed a crack. It looked like she was… impressed!
“Pfft!! Please. You call that a muscle? I had a bigger muscle than that when I was a freshman in high school!”
“I’ll show you what real muscle looks like!” She brought her arm up and shoved it right in front of Cass’s lips.
“BOOM!!” she shouted as she flexed.
OOoooohhhh fuuuuck meeee!! It was so BIG!! I swear it looked almost as big as Cass’s head! My clit was fucking throbbing! I could feel myself getting so wet, it was trickling down my thighs. And I didn’t care. I was… I was in heaven.
“Yeah bitch. That’s what REAL muscle looks like! I bet you wanna put your lips all over my bicep don’t you. Maybe after I show you who’s stronger, I’ll let you worship my mmmmmassive mmmmmuscles!”
NNnggghhh… I wished so bad that she had been talking to me. I’d worship her so good!
But Cass was completely uninterested.
“Are we gonna do this or what?” she asked as she sat down at the table and held out her hand.
When they locked hands, their bodies erupted with muscle. I was breathing so hard I thought I might pass out. They were both pure… fucking… MUSCLE! MMmmmm….
“Back at the party, I was taking it easy on you,” Emily said. “But tonight… it’s time I put your ass in its place! You think just cause your muscle got a wittle bit bigger that you’re hot shit… well you’re fucking nothing. Nothing compared to me. I’m a fucking goddess!”
Cass’s nostrils were flaring. She was like a bull about to barrel right through Emily. She' was so ready!
Cass threw down the challenge—”Whenever you’re ready, little girl.”
And then, it was on!
“RRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!” Cass growled as she tested Emily’s strength.
Emily looked calm. Like she had no doubt of the outcome.
“Haha… look at you. You’re so serious! You’re trying so hard, it’s precious!” Emily scoffed.
“You ready? Here, get a taste of real power!” Emily said as she began to press Cass’s arm towards the table.
“NNNNGgggghhhh!!!” Cass moaned as her hand went lower… lower. Slowly, but it was clear. Emily was winning. Easily!
“Hahaha… those muscles really are for show, aren’t they!” Emily laughed.
But just as Cass’s hand neared the table, it stopped. And then, Cass pulled their hands back up to center.
Emily had a confused look on her face. But not for long. It was quickly replaced with a scowl as she pulled again… slowly pulling Cass’s hand down toward the table again.
“YYYEEEAAAHHH!!! Feel my fucking POWER!!” But again, just as Cass’s hand hovered half an inch over the table, Cass slowly pulled it back up to center.
Then, I saw the panic flash over Emily’s eyes.
“OOooooohhhh….” Cass moaned. “That’s it. Just doing some curls to pump up my bicep.”
What the FUCK?!? Cass was fucking with her! She was in total control. She… she was just doing reps, like she’s doing a set at the gym!
My pussy felt like it was struck by lightening! OOooohhhh!!! I couldn’t help it… I shoved my hand down the front of my jeans and started rubbing myself while I watched Cass fucking humiliate Emily in front of the entire crowd at the Pump Room!
Emily couldn’t take it. The idea that Cass was not only as strong as her but stronger. Way stronger!
“No!!” she roared as she pulled with all her might.
Cass closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she savored the moment.
“MMMMmmm… God, you’re so fucking weak. I thought you would be … at least a little bit of a challenge.”
Cass keep curling her arm, extending, curling, over and over. Her peak was fucking amazing!
“AAARRRRGGGHHH!!!!” Emily refused to give in.
Cass, in a calm voice—”Say it. Say I’m stronger.”
Emily strained… giving it everything she had. But it was like she were wrestling an iron statue. It was impossible to move her arm.
“This is impossible!!” she yelled.
“I said fucking SAY IT!!” Cass roared as she squeezed Emily’s hand.
“AAAH FUCK!!! STOP!! … OK OK!!!…. you’re…”
Cass locked eyes with Emily. Fuck, she was dominating her.
“You’re stronger than me!” Emily finally conceded.
Cass released Emily’s hand and stood up next to the table.
“Come.” she commanded.
Emily was so exhausted… so crushed… her hand in so much pain, she could barely move. She stumbled onto her knees next to Cass.
“That’s right. On your knees is exactly where you should be,” Cass said as she looked down on the broken Emily.
Something had changed in Emily. She wasn’t cocky. Or angry. I knew the look. It was the same one I had… it was fucking lust!
“MMmmm… looks like it’s you who’s going to be the worshipping.” Cass said.
After a long pause, Emily bit her lip and reach up, sliding her hand along Cass’s inner thigh and up her shorts, straight to her center.
Cass let out a gasp.
“NNnnnggghh…”
Cass stared down at Emily—kneeling, humbled, hands trembling against her thighs. The entire bar had fallen silent. The Pump Room queens—those towering women who had sneered at Cass—now watched with wide, reverent eyes.
Cass didn’t speak right away. She just stood there, chest heaving, muscles twitching. Then she reached down, gently lifted Emily’s chin… and smirked.
“I win.”