Cheerleader Showdown
"I can’t believe Coach Johnson’s letting the cheer squad use our weight room."
"Are you serious?" Tyler scoffed. "Those girls are jacked. I’m not trying to lift next to them. It'll look like I haven't even gone through puberty yet!"
Josh shook his head, jaw clenched. "Exactly. They should be doing flips and clapping pom-poms, not hogging the squat rack."
The instant Josh finished the sentence, the gym door slammed open with a bang.
In they came. The number-one-ranked cheer squad in the country. And the look on their faces made it clear they knew it.
Leading the pack was their captain—blonde, broad-shouldered, arms like sculpted stone beneath her maroon uniform. She walked in like the gym belonged to her.
"Hey boys," she said, grinning. "Heard the good news?"
She stopped in the middle of the room, gave them a once-over like she was surveying JV tryouts.
"This is our gym now."
The two teams stood face to face, like rival armies waiting for the first shot.
But the boys weren’t prepared for this.
The cheerleaders weren’t just athletic—they were bigger. Thicker. Stronger. Their legs flared with muscle, thighs straining against pleated skirts, quads rippling with every subtle shift of weight. Their shoulders were cannonballs.
Their gazes dropped, the thick, expansive pecs. The deep crevices between them. The thick veins running over biceps they could only dream of having.
Then—like she sensed their unease—one of the girls raised her arms, slow and deliberate, into a monstrous double biceps pose. Her muscles surged up like mountain peaks.
She held the pose. Kept squeezing. Harder.
Her arms started to tremble, not from weakness, but from effort—like she was showing them just how much power she was keeping under control.
She smirked when she heard subtle groans escape the lips of several boys. It wasn't clear if they were moans of fear or lust, but she loved it either way.
One of the cheerleaders wandered over to the chalkboard listing the team’s max lifts. Her eyes scanned the numbers. Then she burst out laughing.
"Oh my God!—Are these their maxes? This looks like our warmup weight!
The other cheerleaders snickered.
The boys stood frozen, cheeks flushing. She had to have been exaggerating. ... Right?
The captain stepped forward, clapping her hands once with a sharp pop.
"Alright, girls," she said, voice full of swagger. "Let’s show these boys what real muscle looks like."
Alexis stepped forward without a word and loaded the bar.
115 pounds. Josh’s max curl.
She didn’t stretch. Didn't warm up. Didn’t hesitate. She just grabbed the bar and started curling.
"Mmmm… A little light," she purred. "But it feels so fucking good."
The guys just stood there—eyes wide, jaws slack—as her arms exploded to life. Her biceps as big and hard as coconuts, thick veins, skin stretched tight and glistening.
Each rep came with a breathy, teasing grunt. And that face—flushed, focused, framed by sweat-darkened hair—was enough to short-circuit every brain in the room.
So fucking hot!!
And then—CLANG.
Their heads whipped around at the sound of 45's being loaded onto another barbell.
Amy.
Taller. Thicker. Cockier.
"Oh, come on, Alexis," she called out, her voice practically dripping with mockery. "Enough warm up. Let’s show them what we can really do."
The boys stared in disbelief. It was more than any of them could bench—hell, more than most could squat. And she was getting ready to curl it.
"Uuuunnnnghhh!!" Amy moaned as she heaved the bar up to her chest.
"FUUUCK... Hurts so good!"
Her top rode up with the motion, her abs ripped to shreds. Her lats flared out violently, ripping a seam in her uniform as the fabric gave up the fight.
Across the room, Carly was seated at the leg extension machine, her thick quads bulging against the seat. The whole damn thing creaking under her mass.
She looked down at the weight stack and let out a teasing little coo.
"Awww... Look at this stack you guys! It's so... little and cute! Like it's for babies!" She giggled. "I think I could lift the whole stack with one leg!"
She wasn't kidding.
She locked in, grabbed the handles, and started repping—clean, brutal extensions—like it was a warm-up.
CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.
Her quads exploded with each rep. Deep-cut striations, vascularity crawling across her quads like angry lightning. It was hypnotic.
It's good these girls were wearing skirts—because there wasn’t a pair of pants on Earth that could’ve handled those legs.
The boys could barely breathe. Carly didn’t even glance their way.
She just smiled, bit her lip slightly, and kept lifting.
"RRRRAAAGGHHH!!!" The scream ripped through the gym, snapping every head around.
"YEAH!! Come on Lexi!! You’re a fucking beast!" the cheerleaders shouted, clapping and hollering like it was game day.
And there she was—Lexi—grinding out dips with two big 45-pound plates swinging between her thighs.
Wait—no. Three. Three plates!
"Holy shit," someone whispered.
"RRRGGGHHH!!... Twenty-eight... NNNGGHHH... Twenty-nine!" Spit flew from her mouth as her face twisted in effort—and ecstasy
"THIRTY!!!"
Un... fucking... believable.
"YYYYEEAAHHH!!... UUUUP!!... Thirty-one!... Thirty-two!!"
She... she wasn't stopping!
She could feel the attention. Every eye locked on her.
Lexi paused at the top of the rep. Then—just to twist the knife—she turned, flashed the boys a slow, smug wink.
"You don't think we got these big muscles just by waving pom-poms!" she scoffed.
“Dude… DUDE. Look at Katie!”
Tyler’s voice cracked.
“She’s about to bench... I don’t even know how much that is. Four plates a side? That’s, like… insane.”
Then it hit. A low, primal growl rumbled from Katie’s core, deep enough to shake the floor.
“GRRRRRHHHH!!!”
Her muscles detonated, her traps bulging as the massive bar slowly—painfully—began to rise off the rack.
Veins snaked across her shoulders. Her face twisted in pure, brutal focus.
“NOT...” she gritted, every syllable dripping with effort. “GONNA...” The boys watched, stunned—no, paralyzed. “...BENCH IT!!”
Their eyes bulged. Their legs got weak as the slowly realized what was happening.
“GONNA... NNHHGGHHH... SHOULDER PRESS IT!!! RRAAAGGGHHHH!!”
Katie drove the bar skyward, muscles swelling obscenely.
Jason—front row, closest to the action—let out a strangled gasp as his body jerked, hips bucking instinctively.
He’d lost it. Right there. In front of the whole team.
It didn’t matter. No one noticed. No one cared.
Every eye was locked on Katie and the ungodly spectacle of her strength.
“YYYEEEEESSSSSS!!” she roared, locking out the final rep overhead, trembling with triumph. “New fucking record, baby!!”
Nearby, there was the sound of sobbing. Of intense pain.
“Cindy, STOP! You’ve already done like twenty reps! It’s too much!!”
But she didn’t stop. She didn’t even hear her friend.
Her whole body trembled beneath the bar.
“Can’t… stop!!” she growled, veins rising across her throat like cables under tension. “Must… nnnngghhh… get… UUUUUNNNGGGHHH… BBBIGGGERRRR!!!”
The bar rattled as she stood—again—power surging through her tree-trunk legs like a nuclear detonation.
It was terrifying. And hypnotic. And fucking beautiful.
The boys backed up instinctively, like watching a wild animal breaking free from its cage.
She didn’t rest. Didn’t hesitate. She just kept squatting. Her face locked in agony and ecstasy all at once.
Her legs… god, those legs.
Massive, bulbous quads flared out like overfilled tires. Every deep-cut ridge and separation looked inhuman. Grotesque. And yet... somehow... perfect.
And still—she kept going.
"You boys think that’s impressive?"
The voice was soft. Sweet. Familiar.
They turned.
Kimberly. Kimberly from English class. The quiet girl who always had her essays done early and sat near the windows.
But this wasn’t that Kimberly. This Kimberly walked like a goddess. Confident. Carved. Her abs rippled under her cheer uniform like living armor.
She let her fingers glide slowly across her midsection, tracing each deep, defined groove.
"You can’t even begin to understand how strong these abs are," she said, smirking. "I used to do a thousand sit-ups a night. But that got... boring."
She paused. Eyes locked on them. Daring them.
"Wanna see what I do now?"
She led them over to a decline bench and pointed to the barbell—stacked with four 45s. Most of the guys struggled to bench that weight. What the hell did this have to do with abs?
Kimberly laid back on the bench, gripping the bar behind her head. Her core flexed into a steel wall of muscle, her obliques knotted like rope. She breathed in, deep… then growled:
"Get ready to have your minds... fucking... blown."
"RRRRAAAGGHHH!!!"
She exploded upward—driving the weight forward with nothing but her core.
The bar moved. Fast.
"ONE!... TWO!... THREE!... FOUR!..."
The guys were frozen. Staring. Breathless.
Oh shit. Oh SHIT!
More than one of them caved and started touching themselves right there.
They didn't care if anybody saw. This was the hottest fucking thing they'd ever seen in their lives. Hell, it was hotter than anything they'd even imagined!
"UNGH!!!... Yeah, bitches... That's right, stroke those cocks while you work these abs!"
"13!... 14!..." She didn't show any signs of slowing down. She wasn't going to stop until every body watching was spent!
The gym... this workout... it was degenerating into some kind of sexual exhibition!
As impossible as it was to look away from Kimberly, Stephanie was... oh God... she was...
The boys turned as she held an insane amount of weight in her hands. Her biceps... triceps... forearms... stuffed with muscle. Covered in veins. But those quads!
She stood there. Just holding the weight. Her head tilted back, eyes closed. Taking deep breathes in through her nose.
What was she doing??
Then, she slowly lift the bar, up under her skirt.
"OOOOoooohhhhh...." she cooed. "Biiiigggg...mmmmmuscles!!!" she moaned as she lowered the weight again.
Micro movements, as she shrugged the bar up and down over her clit.
No fucking WAY!! She was masturbating with the barbell while she shrugged 405 pounds!!
"Yeah baby... mmmm.... Look at these big beefy muscles!! I could lift a fucking house!!!"
Half the boys had already blown their loads. The rest were close.
In the corner, Brian was feeling up Jessie's biceps. And he wasn't the only one.
The whole damn cheer squad was littered around the room, flexing and being worshipped.
"Told ya... this is our gym now!"
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
Revenge of the Nerd
The hallway buzzed with the static of midday—lockers clanging, sneakers squeaking, and gossip floating like perfume. But all that background noise faded the second Madison Voss strutted into view.
Six feet of muscle-packed confidence, Madison didn’t just walk the halls of Westgate High—she owned them. Her cheer uniform stretched tight across her sculpted frame, sleeves hugging biceps that looked forged from steel. Every movement of hers was purposeful, her smirk loaded with knowing power. And the cheer squad? They orbited her like planets to a sun, breathlessly hanging on her every smirk, every flex.
It was an unspoken ritual now: “Madison, flex for us,” they’d coo, trailing her like lovesick puppies. And she always delivered, rolling up a sleeve and pumping her bicep to its full, veiny glory while the girls swooned, some biting their lips, others reaching out to feel.
But today, Madison had someone else in her sights.
Nina Clarke. Quiet. Thin. Glasses. The kind of girl who disappeared into books and shadows.
Madison’s heavy footfalls silenced the space around them as she closed the distance. Nina froze, startled by the sudden shadow cast over her locker. She barely turned before Madison’s arm was already braced against the metal just beside her head, caging her in.
“Well, well,” Madison purred, her voice low and venom-slick. “If it isn’t the little mouse. What are you doing scurrying around the halls, little mouse.”
Nina swallowed hard, clutching her books to her chest like a shield.
“You ever think about doing something with that stick figure body of yours?” Madison sneered, leaning in close. “Or are you just hoping someone eventually finds your ‘intellect’ sexy?”
“I—I just wanna get to class,” Nina mumbled, eyes darting past the towering cheerleader.
Madison smirked, then slowly raised her other arm and curled it, the muscle ballooning into a thick, rock-solid peak just inches from Nina’s face. The scent of sweat and cherry body spray clung to her skin, and the bicep practically radiated heat.
“You feel that?” she whispered. “That’s what boys really want. Not brains. Not... whatever it is you’re doing. They want this.”
She flexed harder. The bicep swelled, thick veins snaking across the peak. Nina’s breath hitched—she couldn’t look away. It was mesmerizing. Bigger than she thought possible. Her whole field of vision filled with hard, flexing muscle.
Madison caught the look instantly. “Oh my god,” she laughed, loud enough to draw snickers from nearby lockers. “You like it, don’t you?”
Nina’s face turned crimson.
“Aww, nerd-girl has a thing for big muscles,” Madison cooed, her voice dripping mock-sweet. She inched even closer, flexing with deliberate arrogance. “Go ahead. Kiss it if you love it so much.”
Nina tried to shrink into the locker, but there was nowhere to go. Madison was already there, flexed bicep so close, Nina could feel the heat radiating from the muscle.
“Come on,” Madison whispered, voice low and dominant. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Nina’s eyes were wide with a swirl of confusion, shame... and something else. And Madison drank it in. She lived for this power.
Madison’s grin widened. “No? You’re not gonna kiss it?” she teased, voice thick with mock sympathy. “Then how about this…”
In one slow, fluid motion, Madison pressed her flexed bicep against Nina’s face.
It hit like a wall—hot, impossibly firm, and unyielding. The dense muscle ground against Nina’s cheek, pushing into the delicate curve of her lips. She could feel everything: the deep striations like cords of coiled steel beneath satin-smooth skin, the heat of Madison’s body radiating into hers, the faint sheen of sweat that smeared with the softest slide across her mouth.
Nina gasped—more breath than sound. Her lips parted instinctively at the contact, but no words came out. Her mind screamed to move, to pull away, to do anything—but her body wouldn’t obey. It was as if the bicep had short-circuited her.
The cheerleaders erupted in laughter behind Madison, the cruel chorus echoing through the hall like a chant.
“Oh my god, look at her face!” one shrieked. “She’s blushing!”
Nina’s knees threatened to buckle as the flush rose violently up her neck, searing across her cheeks. She wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor, but the sensation of that muscle pressed against her lips—it stirred something deep and raw. A spark that bloomed fast and dangerous, hot and trembling. She didn’t understand it. She’d never felt anything like it.
And Madison knew. She leaned in, whispering close enough that her breath tickled Nina’s ear. “You’re so into this,” she said, savoring every word. “I can feel you breathing faster. You like being this close to power, don’t you?”
The muscle flexed again, just a little, and Nina whimpered—a tiny, involuntary sound.
Madison pulled back, laughing as she rolled her shoulders and turned to strut away, leaving Nina frozen against the locker, clutching her books like a lifeline, face burning.
“I’ll see you around, little mouse,” Madison called over her shoulder. “Next time, maybe you’ll be brave enough to ask for it.
She lay there, stiff as a board, arms folded over her chest like a cadaver, her face still hot even hours later.
Her lips tingled.
Nina shut her eyes tight, willing the memory away. God, stop. Stop thinking about it. But the moment played in loops—Madison’s bicep pressing against her mouth, the scent of cherry body spray and skin and sweat, the heat of that muscle, that power. The hallway’s fluorescent lights had caught every vein, every contour. Every cheerleader’s mocking shriek had branded her skin like fire.
Humiliation was the obvious feeling. It should have been the only feeling. But it wasn’t.
Beneath the shame was a jolt of something electric, something dark and dizzying. She’d felt it even as it happened—her breath catching, her knees buckling. It had rooted in her chest and now spread outward, tingling in her fingers, pooling low in her belly. Every time she remembered the weight of Madison’s arm, the way it dwarfed her... she shivered.
"Stop it," she whispered, turning on her side.
The pages of Scientific Journal fanned out beside her, untouched since this morning. She grabbed it now, desperate for an escape. For numbers. Logic. Anything that didn’t involve the glint in Madison’s eye or the her breath felt on her ear as she taunter her.
She turned the page. Her eyes locked on a headline—and everything inside her went still. Then, all at once, her heart slammed to life. Heat rushed to her face. Her hands shook. She read it again. And again. By the third time, she wasn’t breathing.
Nina stared.
The headline grabbed her—but it was the photo that shattered her. A woman in a lab coat stood beside a monkey with muscles that didn’t look real. Shoulders like boulders. Its chest was obscene—slabs of muscle stacked high, veins roping across it like something carved from living stone.
Her mouth went dry.
She couldn’t look away. Her pulse thudded in her ears. That thing had more muscle than any human she’d ever seen. It was grotesque. Freakish.
Perfect.
A flush spread up her neck. Her thighs pressed together without thinking. Her whole body was reacting before her brain could catch up. But it wasn’t just about the monkey. No—her mind had already torn past the image.
What if it was her?
Nina gasped, the thought sending a shiver straight through her.
Imagine raising her arm and watching it grow. Imagine a bicep rising like a tidal wave beneath her skin—thick, veiny, impossible. Imagine Madison seeing that. Imagine the smirk wiped clean from her face. Imagine the cheerleaders staring, slack-jawed, as she rolled up her sleeve, as she flexed, as they reached out to touch her.
Nina’s breath came quicker.
What was she thinking? She was a good student. A quiet girl. She liked stars, and books, and the clean order of science. She didn’t want to be seen. She didn’t want attention.
Except… she did.
She wanted it. She craved it.
She couldn’t look away from the image. That body. That strength. That presence. And it wasn’t the monkey anymore she was seeing—it was her. Towering. Massive. Unstoppable.
She could feel it like a hunger, clawing under her skin. Shame and wonder wrapped tight around her lungs. She knew it was wrong. Or at least, she was wrong for wanting it. This wasn’t normal. Girls didn’t want this. Not like this.
But God, she had to find that lab.
She had to get her hands on that serum.
No matter what it took.
It was just past 2 a.m. as Nina stood across the street, hidden behind the skeleton of a dead hedge, heart slamming against her ribs like it wanted out.
The sign was smaller than she expected. Solara Research Institute glowed faintly in the dark, sterile white letters. The building behind it loomed like a sleeping thing—characterless, clinical. Not evil. Just indifferent.
The last three days had been a blur of late nights, obsessive note-taking, studying blueprints she'd scraped together from a college urban planning archive. She had the guard schedule. Knew which cameras had blind spots. Knew the exact wing: Sublevel B — Experimental Pharmacogenetics.
That’s where the serum would be.
She took a long breath, her throat dry. Every fiber of her body told her to turn back. To go home. To forget this whole ridiculous fantasy.
But then she saw Madison’s smirking face in her mind’s eye—heard her venomous laugh, "Kiss it, nerd," echoing like a cruel bell.
No. She was done being prey.
Nina crossed the street.
The back entrance was as she'd expected: a rusting emergency door behind a supply outbuilding. The lock was electronic but outdated. She’d watched enough lockpicking tutorials to know what she was doing. Kind of.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the repurposed RFID badge she’d bought from a gray-market seller on an encrypted forum. It wasn’t guaranteed to work, but the seller claimed it could spoof old clearance tags.
Her heart pounded. She tapped it to the reader.
Beep.
Access granted.
Nina almost collapsed from the surge of relief. She slipped inside.
The hallway was dim, empty. The building smelled like antiseptic and filtered air. She moved fast, quiet, sneakers barely squeaking. Her backpack bounced lightly against her side, stuffed with gloves, a tiny flashlight, and a small insulated container—just in case.
She found the stairwell and crept down, each metal step creaking like it might betray her. Her phone buzzed once—she'd set a silent timer: 42 minutes until the next scheduled guard rotation hit this floor.
At the bottom, she cracked open the door to Sublevel B. The hallway was darker here. Unused. Abandoned, almost. Except for the door at the end of the hall.
LAB 9-B.
A red security panel glowed dimly beside it. Nina approached, pulse hammering, palms sweating. Another scan. Another prayer.
Beep.
Access granted.
She was in.
The door whispered shut behind her.
Nina stepped into the heart of the lab, the faint whir of cooling fans and humming machinery wrapping around her like a mechanical lullaby. The room was dim, bathed in a ghostly aqua glow from a ring of widescreen monitors looping through data sets, biometric scans, and 3D renderings of tissue growth. Code streamed down the leftmost screen like a waterfall of logic.
She was in. Really in.
Nina’s eyes widened behind her glasses. This wasn’t some mock-up from a textbook or a staged university tour. This was real science—raw, dangerous, beautiful. The air smelled faintly of ozone, isopropyl alcohol, and something sharp and sterile. She wandered slowly, reverently, like a pilgrim in a sacred temple.
Racks of instruments lined the room, some she recognized—centrifuges, gel electrophoresis units, cryo storage—but others were alien to her, machines with smooth carbon shells and blue-lit interfaces that looked like they’d been lifted from a sci-fi movie. She reached out and ran her fingers along one of the consoles, heart thudding.
A blinking terminal caught her eye—subject logs. She stepped forward, tapping the screen.
Nina almost jumped out of her skin when she heard a deep grunt from behind.
She turned to see the cages lining the far side of the lab. Each one large, reinforced with heavy steel bars. Inside, the forms shifted.
And then one stepped forward. The monkey was… colossal.
Her breath caught.
Its entire body rippling under skin so tight it looked shrink-wrapped over muscle. The sheer density of it was unreal. Slabs of muscle stacked atop one another with impossible definition: chest thick and split by deep striations, veins snaking across the surface like a roadmap of power.
And the abs—God, the abs.
Eight bricks, carved and symmetrical, flexing and rolling with every breath. Not flat. Not lean. Thick. Deep enough to cast shadows. Each one separated by grooves that looked finger-deep, lined with pulsing veins.
It exhaled.
The whole body moved with that breath—pecs rising, traps flaring, delts twitching with casual might. It didn’t flex, and yet it was flexing constantly.
Nina felt her knees weaken slightly. She stepped closer to the bars without realizing it, eyes wide and locked.
A strange, burning heat rose inside her.
It was like that moment in the hallway—when Madison had boxed her in, muscle inches from her face. When her bicep had pulsed like a living furnace, radiating dominance, daring Nina to look away. That same tight, helpless feeling was back now—but amplified. Exploded.
Nina couldn’t look away.
Her lips parted slightly. Her breath was shallow. A part of her brain screamed to snap out of it, but the rest—most of her—just stared. So this is what it looks like. The final form. The raw embodiment of size and strength.
She felt her face flush. That deep, embarrassed warmth.
She swallowed hard. And then... she imagined it was her.
That size. That power. People staring—no, worshiping. No one mocking her, ever again.
She jerked back suddenly, heart hammering, face flushed with heat and shame.
What the hell was she doing? She has to find the serum and get out of here before the next guard rotation!
She moved deeper into the lab.
The quiet hum of machines throbbed like a pulse in the silence, and the further she walked, the more alien everything felt—cold, clinical, and untouched by time. Rows of glass tanks, mechanical arms, and steel canisters surrounded her, casting warped shadows in the low light. But one thing caught her eye.
In the far corner of the room, behind a stainless-steel storage rack, something glowed. A faint shimmer of neon green.
Nina froze.
Slowly, she stepped toward it, her heart rate ticking up with every step. The glow grew brighter—sickly, unnatural, almost radioactive. She rounded the rack and stopped cold.
There, on a raised platform behind a transparent mesh barrier, was a small containment case. A cage, really.
Inside were four vials. Slender glass tubes, each one filled with that unmistakable green fluid. The same color as the serum from the article. The same glow from her dreams.
Her breath hitched. This was it.
Her fingers reached for the latch. It clicked open easier than expected. The metal cage door creaked as she pushed it aside, and the green light spilled out fully, bathing her face in an eerie glow.
It lit her glasses. Her wide eyes. Her parted lips.
She stared at the vials. And smiled.
They looked unreal. Like something out of a science fiction movie. But she knew better. These weren’t props. This wasn’t fantasy. This was reality. This was hers.
Nina reached in slowly, almost reverently, and lifted one vial into her hand.
It was warm. Alive.
The liquid shimmered in the low light, like it was moving on its own.
She stared into it, and for a moment she could already see it—her arms swelling with new power, her legs tearing through fabric, her reflection no longer weak or forgettable, but uncontainable.
She clutched the vial tighter. Her voice was just a whisper.
“Am I really doing this?”
And she was. No turning back now.
The bathroom was silent.
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly above, casting a clinical, pale glow over the rows of sinks and cracked tile. It smelled faintly of bleach and cheap soap.
She stood alone in front of the mirror.
Her backpack sat open on the sink beside her. And in her hand, between pale fingers that trembled just slightly, was the vial.
Neon green. Bright, almost glowing. Like liquid radioactivity. The serum.
It looked harmless. Small. But it felt heavy—like a live wire buzzing against her palm. A vial full of mayhem. A ticket to somewhere she couldn’t come back from.
Nina swallowed.
Her reflection stared back at her—thin, awkward, bony shoulders slightly hunched under her cardigan. She looked like someone on the verge of a panic attack. But beneath that—behind the glasses and fear—was something else.
Fire.
She hadn’t slept. Not a second. She’d spent the night wide-eyed, lying in bed, clutching the cooler to her chest. Fantasizing. Obsessing. Replaying every insult, every humiliation, every time Madison’s voice had rung in her ears.
"Kiss it, nerd."
Nina clenched her jaw. She looked down at the vial. Her thumb hovered over the cap. Was she really going to do this?
What if it hurt? What if it changed her in ways she didn’t expect? What if she lost control? What if… it didn’t work?
But what if it did?
Her eyes flicked back to the mirror, and for a moment, she didn’t see herself anymore. She saw her—but different. Towering. Broad. Dense. Veins crawling up massive arms that stretched the sleeves of her clothes to the limit. Her sweater, shredded down the sides. Her back, flaring like wings. Her thighs like tree trunks. She imagined stepping into the weight room and stopping time just by walking in.
The looks on their faces. The stunned silence. Madison’s smug little grin slowly melting into disbelief. Then fear.
Nina could see herself walking right up to her, chest to chest, looming over her like a goddess made of steel. The thought sent a thrill down her spine.
She looked back at the vial. This was it.
One final breath. One final moment of hesitation. Then Nina tipped it back.
The serum slid down her throat thick and smooth, with a faint chemical taste—bitter and metallic. She swallowed hard. It was done.
For a heartbeat, nothing.
And then—everything.
It started in her gut. A sudden heat—sharp, piercing—like someone had poured molten iron into her stomach. She gasped, her body jolting upright, eyes wide as the pain erupted outward like an explosion under her skin.
“Ah—!”
She barely had time to scream. It radiated in all directions. Burning tendrils surged through her veins, wrapping around every limb, every nerve, every cell. Like knives stabbing outward from the inside, branching into her arms, her legs, her chest.
She staggered back, hit the bathroom stall, and collapsed. Every muscle seized.
Her fingers curled into claws. Her calves locked so tight she couldn’t move. Her back arched. Her jaw clenched so hard she thought her teeth might crack. A full-body cramp from hell, unrelenting, brutal. Her body rebelled against itself.
She screamed. But it came out hoarse, guttural. Her vision blurred. Her limbs twitched violently, beyond her control.
She had imagined it might hurt. But not like this. Never like this.
She writhed on the floor, curled in on herself like a dying animal, her sweat-soaked shirt sticking to her skin. Every breath was fire. Every beat of her heart sent a new wave of agony crashing through her. It felt like her bones were splintering, like her muscles were tearing themselves apart from the inside.
Her mind began to spiral.
Was this a mistake?
Was she going to die here?
Her thoughts were fractured, scattered across the pain. She reached for the sink, for anything to ground her, but her hand collapsed under her. The cold tile against her cheek was the only relief she had.
The heat intensified. Her skin felt like it was boiling. Her insides—cooking.
Tears streamed down her face. Her lips parted. No sound came out.
And then, as her vision dimmed—
Darkness took her.
The clang of iron echoed through the cheerleader weight room like a rhythm. Smooth. Confident. Dominant.
Madison Voss stood dead center under the overhead lights, framed like a living statue of power. All the other girls had their cheerleading shirts on, but of course Madison's shirt made it clear exactly who she was—Queen Bitch. The t-shirt clung to every chiseled detail of her torso, slick with a sheen of sweat. Her shorts stretched taut over powerful quads that looked ready to explode. And in her hands—effortless, casual—was a loaded barbell she curled without any sign of struggle.
“Twenty-three…” she said aloud, smirking as she watched her biceps swell with each rep.
“God, Mads,” breathed Jenna, the tiny sophomore clinging to her side like a groupie. She had both hand wrapped around Madison’s right arm, fingers gliding over the thick, veiny peak as it surged toward her face. “It’s so hard. Like—hot to the touch. Oh my god. Girls. Seriously. You have to feel this.”
Two more cheerleaders rushed in, giddy, wide-eyed, as Madison gave a cocky smirk and flexed harder—forcing the muscle into an even more grotesque, beautiful shape. The biceps bulged violently, veins twitching, the skin stretched tight like latex over a cannonball.
“Feel that?” Madison taunted, voice thick with pleasure. “That’s what power feels like. Try not to faint.”
“I swear it’s bigger than yesterday,” one girl gasped, running her fingers down the edge of the bicep, practically breathless.
Madison grinned, teeth flashing. “That’s because I don’t stop. Every day I get stronger. Every day, this,” she flexed again with a sharp grunt, “gets more impossible.”
They giggled, whispered, clung to her like moths around a flame. And Madison stood there soaking it in—basking in the worship, the envy, the raw lust in their eyes.
This was her temple. And she was their god.
Suddenly, the weight room door opened and everything changed.
Their faces transformed one by one—from idle curiosity, to surprise, to open, speechless shock.
Jaws dropped. Eyes widened. One of them took a half-step back, instinctively.
“…wait,” Jenna whispered, voice small. “Is that…?”
No one answered. They just stared. Frozen.
Something had entered the room. Something impossible. Something they thought they knew. But not like this.
No one moved. No one breathed. They just stared. It was her. The nerd. Nina something. But—what the fuck happened to her?
She didn’t just grow—she exploded. A full foot taller, easy. Her light blue t-shirt, once baggy, now clung for dear life to a body that looked sculpted by gods and supercharged by sin. Her shirt barely reached her abs—deep, symmetrical, obscene. Her chest—Jesus. Two trembling buttons stood between that shirt and total detonation.
And that cardigan? A joke now. It barely reached her elbows, shoved back by arms so thick, so muscular, they looked like weapons of war. Her forearms throbbed with veins, the kind of detail you only see in anatomical drawings—or wet dreams.
But the legs—Fuck. The fabric stretching, revealing flashes of swollen, monstrous quads that looked like they could burst free at any second. You could hear it—fabric groaning, denim creaking in protest—like the clothes themselves were begging for mercy.
And Nina just stood there. Smirking. Drinking in every stunned, wide-eyed, terrified, lust-filled stare. Her hands rested casually at her sides, but her whole body thrummed—alive, charged, twitching with power barely contained.
Her nipples were hard. Her thighs pulsed. And she was wet. She could feel it soaking through the denim, and she didn’t care. She wanted them to see it. She hoped they did.
Her muscles ached, but not from strain. From need. From anticipation. Tingling. Twitching. Like racehorses behind the gate, muscles flexing with every breath, desperate for release.
Her smirk deepened. Her eyes gleamed. “It’s my turn now.”
Nina stepped towards Madison, her quads flaring ominously with each step, stretching the holes in her jeans wider and wider.
Madison's confidence faded away with each step Nina took.
Nina grabbed the front of Madison's shirt and yanked her forward, effortlessly.
Their faces were inches apart. Madison's breath caught.
Nina's voice was low. Quiet. Razor-sharp.
"You remember what you said to me in the hallway? ... 'Kiss it, nerd.'"
Nina looked down at her arm, feeling the tingling between her legs intensify as she saw the staggering size.
"You humiliated me. You laughed with your little flock while you shoved your muscles in my face like a trophy."
Her grip tightened slightly.
"So let me return the favor."
Nina raised her arm slowly, deliberately—like it was a sacred object she was revealing to the world for the first time.
She didn’t flex. Not yet. She just held it out in front of her, long and solid, rotating it, admiring it from every angle as she let out a gentle sigh. She bit her lip, eyes glazed with something between lust and reverence.
She couldn't breathe. Her mouth was dry, her lips parted, her pupils wide with shock and something far more powerful.
“God, you have no idea what it feels like,” Nina said, her voice quivering with pleasure. “The size. The heat. The weight of it. It’s like sex—everywhere.”
Slowly she began to curl. The muscle began to rise, inch by inch. Swelling. Thickening. The skin stretched taut, veins bulging, pulsing. Her bicep pushed outward and upward, carving itself into a mountain peak.
Madison's eyes grew with it—wider and wider—as if trying to take in something her brain refused to believe was real.
"Fuuuuck..." Nina moaned, deep and breathless, her voice cracking under the wave of sensation. The sleeve of her ruined sweater groaned.
RRRIIIIPPP.
The fabric surrendered.
A massive, veiny bicep burst through the wool like a beast through a cage. Silky-smooth skin slicked with sweat gleamed under the weight room lights. Striations rippled as she held the flex at its peak, the muscle quivering from the sheer tension.
A soft sound escaped Madison’s throat. A whimper. Not from fear. From need. Nina’s eyes snapped to her.
"Well? Are you going to kiss it, or do I have to make you?"
Nina’s eyes never left her own arm as she rotated it again, watching the striations glide and twist under her skin. The motion was slow, sensual—like she was savoring the feel of her own power. Her breath caught as her bicep shifted with the smallest twitch, and the muscle swelled another inch, pushing against the remains of her sleeve until the fabric surrendered with a final, pitiful tear.
She moaned. A low, hungry sound that wasn’t for show.
The sensation of growing—of pushing her body past its own limits, of seeing Madison tremble, helpless—was sending pulses of raw heat through her core. Her thighs squeezed together. Her lips parted.
And still she flexed. Still she grew.
Still she stared down Madison with the look of a woman in absolute control.
“You think this is it?” Nina purred, her voice smoky with power. “You think I came here just to make you kiss my bicep?”
She laughed. “No, Madison. I’m not done with you.”
Her voice sharpened, every word sliding like a knife.
“I’m going to make you lose control.”
She stepped closer, towering now, her massive arm still flexed, still twitching with living, twitching mass.
“I’m going to make you cum... right here... in front of all your little muscle-slut friends.”
Gasps erupted behind Madison. One girl actually staggered back into a squat rack. Nina didn’t even blink.
“You hear that, girls?” she said, raising her voice just enough. “Your queen’s about to fall apart... just from looking at my big... hard... muscles.”
She brought the flex up to her face, slowly tracing her tongue along the exposed face of her bicep, then turned the mountain of veiny flesh toward Madison again—holding it steady, pulsing with strength.
“You feel it, don’t you?” she whispered, eyes half-lidded, voice thick with arousal. “That heat building in your stomach… your thighs clenching… your breath hitching every time I move.”
Madison whimpered.
Nina leaned in, inches from her, bicep throbbing between them.
“And I haven’t even shown you what these muscles can really do.”
Without another word, Nina turned and walked towards the bench press. Madison watched, breath shallow, eyes locked on the impossible swell and shift of Nina’s glutes—two straining hemispheres of muscle, alive with movement, stretching the limits of her shredded jeans. They flexed and flowed with such obscene power it looked like they might rip free any second.
Slowly, she turned her head—just enough to glance over her shoulder, a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth.
“Go on,” she said, voice silken but sharp. “Load it up.”
The cheerleaders hesitated—then scrambled into motion. Hands trembling, they began sliding one 45-pound plates onto the bar after another.
One of the girls, trying to mask the awe in her voice, asked, “Can… can you actually bench press this much weight?”
Nina chuckled—low, rich, dangerous. She stepped up behind the bar, planted her feet, and wrapped her hands around the bar. Her forearms bulged with the effort, veins writhing across thick cords of sinew.
“Who said anything about bench pressing it?”
Nina was an animal. A beast. Rep after terrifying rep, she curled the impossible weight. Her body flexed and heaved, veins bulging like cables under her skin, every inch of her glistening with effort and lust.
RRRAGH... RRRAGH... RRRAGH...
Each grunt was deeper, darker, more primal—less a sound of effort and more a warning. Her eyes stayed locked forward, but everyone knew who this was for.
This wasn’t training. This wasn’t lifting. This was dominance.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to make eye contact, sweat dripping down her face, teeth bared in a grin that was pure predator.
“Look at my biceps,” she growled.
RRRRRAAAAGGGHHHH—YEAH!
Another savage rep tore through the air. Her arms ballooned with sickening size, veins splitting in every direction.
“Harder than a fucking skull,” she hissed. “And I’m just getting warmed up.”
How many reps had it been? Ten? Twenty? More?
No one dared move. No one dared speak.
And Madison—trembling, wide-eyed, soaked through—couldn’t tear her gaze away. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t. Because something was happening to Nina.
Her skin flushed deeper. Her breathing quickened. Her muscles twitched between reps, as if they weren’t done growing.
And then, as she held the bar halfway up, arms trembling—not with struggle, but with power begging to erupt.
Nina held the weight there. Her biceps at peak contraction. She stared at them, lips parted—lusting after her own muscles.
A deep low growl rumbled from her chest. Then—she screamed.
Her head snapped back, the sound tearing out of her like it had been caged for centuries. Her hips bucked forward involuntarily, her whole body locking into that brutal, blissful pose. She held the bar there—just held it—as her body convulsed with something bigger than pleasure, bigger than pride.
She threw her head back and screamed. A sound like something ancient and unstoppable had just woken up inside her. Her hips thrust forward, bucking as she continued to hold the weight for what felt like an eternity.
“Oh my God,” gasped one of the cheerleaders. “She’s… she’s fucking cumming!”
And that’s when Nina smiled. Wide. Wild. Unhinged.
“LET’S FUCKING GO!!!” she roared—voice cracking with ecstasy, with hunger, with something that was no longer fully human.
Somehow—impossibly—Nina did the unthinkable. She didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. She accelerated.
Like a machine gone berserk, she began cranking out rep after brutal rep, each one more violent, more obscene than the last. The bar was a toy in her hands now—an extension of her fury, her hunger, her transformation.
And her clothes—God, her clothes.
The seams were disintegrating before their eyes. Every rep stretched them further, tore them wider. Threads snapped. Fabric peeled. Soon there’d be nothing left. Nothing between Nina and the raw, naked truth of what she was becoming.
Madison couldn’t stand back any longer. She stepped forward, mesmerized, trembling. Her hands reached out—desperate, shaking—and wrapped around the peak of Nina’s arm as she held mid-curl.
Her fingers didn’t come close to touching. Not even close.
She gasped. The muscle was hot, veiny, alive—throbbing with some primal, impossible energy.
“YYYYEEEESSSSS!!!” Nina roared, voice echoing off the walls like thunder. Her entire body was detonating with mass—muscles ballooning, thickening, surging beyond any rational limit.
Madison was overwhelmed. Shaking. On the verge of tears. The heat between her legs was unbearable now—an ache, a need that pulsed with every one of Nina’s flexes.
She let out a moan and buried her face into Nina’s shoulder—her massive, boulder-sized shoulder—pressing herself against the furnace of strength, drinking it in like salvation. She was in heaven. She was in heat.
And Nina? Nina wasn’t done.
“NOT… ENOUGH!!!” she screamed, her voice half-growl, half-orgasm.
Her body convulsed—swelling with another violent pulse of mass.
“MMMMMORE… MMMMMUSCLE!!!”
No… no, it couldn’t be possible. There’s no way she could have the audacity to even try it.
Madison—and every cheerleader around her—watched in breathless horror as Nina shifted her grip. Slowly. Cautiously. Her right hand inched toward the center of the barbell. The 225-pound load dipped slightly, plates clinking together. She adjusted her stance, every muscle in her body alive, twitching, anticipating.
Then—God help them—she released her left hand. A collective gasp swept through the gym.
Nina stood there, holding more weight in one hand than Madison could bench press. The bar dipped and swayed, barely balanced, but Nina held it—owned it. Her bicep bulged with effort, pulsing under the strain like it was about to explode.
Madison felt it—a spasm. A raw, involuntary twitch between her legs.
She whimpered. “Oh God!!”
Nina’s gaze locked onto hers. A smirk tugged at her lips, savage and knowing.
“I told you,” Nina growled. “You’re gonna cum. Right here, in front of all your little muscle-slut friends... just from watching my big... hard... mmmmmuscles.”
Madison whimpered again, her knees wobbling. “Please… yes, please! Make me!”
Nina chuckled darkly. Just like Madison had said back in the hallway: Maybe next time you’ll ask for it. Well… she was asking now.
Grrrrrr....
It started low. A primal growl rumbling from deep inside her chest. Nothing moved at first—except her bicep, which swelled before their eyes.
“NNNnggghhhh!!!—Come on!” Nina snarled. And then… impossibly… the bar started to rise.
Madison’s breath hitched. “No… no way…”
“Yyyyyeeeessss…” Nina moaned, her voice thick with pleasure, as if reading Madison’s disbelief and feeding on it.
Her arm quaked violently. Veins bulged like cables. The bar crept upward, the plates rattling with each millimeter.
“LOOK!” Nina roared. “LOOK AT IT!!!”
Madison lost it. She leaned forward, grinding her soaked body against Nina’s tree-trunk quad. The muscle flexed—harder than stone, slick with sweat and power.
“Ooooohhh ....” Madison moaned.
The bar climbed higher. Her bicep swelled larger.
“OH FUCK!” Madison cried. “It’s—it’s as big as a fucking FOOTBALL!! OOOoooOOOoohhh!!!!!!”
“YYYESSSSS!!!!” Nina roared as she completed the curl.
“MMMMMOOOOORRREEEE!!!” she bellowed, lowering the bar just to curl it again—faster, harder, like her body was possessed.
RRRRAAAGGGHHH!!!
Again.
RRRRAAAGGGHHH!!!
Again.
Nina was repping 225 pounds with one arm—with fury, with abandon, with bliss.
“CUM FOR ME!!!”
And it hit Madison like a lightning bolt.
Her body convulsed, every nerve igniting, her hips grinding violently against Nina’s quad. Her hands clawed at the slick muscle as she screamed.
“FUUUUUUUUUCK!!! OH GOD!!! IT’S TOO MUCH!!!”
Her body spasmed one last time—and then collapsed. Limbs limp. Eyes rolling back. She hit the floor in a moaning, twitching heap.
By the time it was over, Nina stood alone in the center of the gym. Soaked in sweat. Clothes shredded. Her breath came in slow, heavy waves, chest rising with each deep breath. Stray strands of hair clung to her flushed face and glistening neck. Her lips were parted, her eyes distant—still riding the edge of something too big to name.
The cheerleaders lay scattered across the floor like the aftermath of a storm. Their bodies twitching, limbs limp, faces glazed in disbelief and afterglow. Some were sobbing. Some were smiling. Most were simply... still.
Every single one of them had orgasmed. Some multiple times. For more than a few, it had been their first time—not just orgasm, but an awakening. An experience so raw and total it ripped through them, shattered everything they thought they knew about pleasure, about strength, about themselves.
And they would never forget. Even if they married. Had families. Lived long, quiet lives far from this moment—this would always be it. The fantasy behind every moan. The memory that surfaced in the dark.
She had changed them. Forever.
Nina didn’t speak. She just stood there—towering, twitching, steaming like a weapon that hadn’t cooled yet.
She looked down at her arms—still pumped, still swollen with blood and madness—and flexed one last time. Hard. Just to feel it. The bicep rose, massive and veiny, and her lip curled in the faintest snarl.
Nina turned and walked toward the exit—slow, powerful, deliberate—leaving behind a gym full of broken girls and ruined fantasies.
And just before she disappeared through the doors, she looked back. Her eyes locked on Madison, still sprawled on the floor, chest heaving.
“Next time… I don’t hold back.”
Then she was gone. And the legend began.
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
Crystal
As the family sat around the dinner table, every eye—whether they realized it or not—was locked on Crystal. They always were.
While the others poked at their neat little servings of steak, potatoes, and vegetables, Crystal’s plate was piled high with three thick, bloody slabs of beef.
No sides. No greens. Just pure fucking protein—and lots of it.
Mom couldn’t stop staring. Every time Crystal’s knife sliced down, the muscles in her forearm shifted and danced—rolling under the skin like a sack of angry snakes.
It was grotesque. It was hypnotic. It was gorgeous.
A soft, breathy sigh escaped Mom’s lips. Everyone heard it.
Crystal didn’t look up. She just smirked.
Then, without warning, she dropped her utensils and grabbed a steak with her bare hands.
“Ah, fuck it.”
She ripped into it like a lioness.
“MMmmm... Gotta feed these monster muscles,” she said, talking around a mouthful.
She wasn’t exaggerating. Just look at those arms. Veins like worms. Peaks like mountains. And she was only fourteen!
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
Mom was lost—eyes glassy, breath shallow—drifting over every bulge and ripple of muscle like she was being pulled under. Meanwhile, her brother just seethed.
Four years older, and yet she'd beaten him at everything. Sports. Lifting. School. Life. And he hated her for it.
“You really think you're hot shit just 'cause you’ve got those freak-show muscles?” he snapped. “You look like a guy!”
Crystal didn’t blink. She just stared at him with cool, amused eyes.
“Name one guy you know with biceps like these.”
She flexed—slowly.
Silence.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought. No one’s built like this. Only me.”
Off to the side, Mom whimpered.
Crystal raised the steak again, bit off another savage chunk, and locked eyes with her brother.
“You’re just pissed because your girlfriend only hangs out with you hoping to catch a glimpse of me.”
She leaned forward, voice low and feral.
“When she lets you touch her,” Crystal purred, “she’s not thinking about you. She’s imagining my arms—these big, vascular fucking biceps—pressed against her lips while she moans into them. She’s picturing her tongue tracing the veins, sucking on the peak. Her fingers sliding down my abs—eight bricks of carved granite—before she drops lower. And when she comes? She’s coming with a vision of her face buried between my monster tree trunk thighs.”
Dad dropped his fork. Jaw slack.
Crystal just grinned.
She had no shame. No filter. Crystal said whatever the hell she wanted—because that’s what you do when you’re the alpha. And she was the alpha. Of this family. Of everything.
She tilted her head at Dad, mock-concerned.
“Careful, Daddy. You leave your mouth open like that, you’ll catch a fly!"
Her dad and brother were both stunned. Speechless.
“Ooohhh, honey… you’ve gotten so big,” Mom breathed, her voice dripping with awe—and something darker.
“Come here, sweetheart. Let me see all that hard work.”
She rose from her seat, eyes wide, lips parted, drawn to Crystal like a moth to a roaring, flesh-and-steel furnace.
Crystal raised her arms into a double bicep pose, slow and deliberate. Her muscles exploded into twin peaks of living marble.
Mom gasped—no, moaned—a raw, helpless sound that should never come from a mother’s mouth.
“Oh my God, Crystal... this is... magnificent.” Her voice trembled. “Your arm’s almost as big as my head.”
Crystal smirked. That smirk—pure, arrogant alpha energy. She squeezed harder. Her arms trembled from the force, and so did Mom.
Mom’s hands floated up like she was in a trance, fingertips brushing along the inside curve of the bicep—soft skin stretched tight over something impossibly solid, burning hot.
“Mmmmmm…” she moaned, eyes fluttering shut as she leaned in, nuzzling her cheek against the muscle like it was sacred.
“Scott…” she said, not even looking at her husband. “Why can’t you have muscles like this? Half this? Is that really too much to ask?”
The air in the room felt heavy. Suffocating. It felt like time had stopped, until Crystal broke the spell.
"Well!" she said in a chipper voice that reminded everyone that she was just fourteen, "time for me to get to bed. It's a school night, after all!"
Crystal sat in class, listening to the lecture as if it was any normal day. But sitting in a room with Crystal is never a normal day!
Crystal's body demanded the full attention of everyone in the room. Even the teacher stammered through his lecture, flustered and red-faced, his eyes constantly flicking to her shoulders, her arms, her chest.
The poor kid behind Crystal couldn't even see the board!
But he didn’t care.
His eyes were glued to her back—the ridges and valleys of her lats stretching the fabric of her shirt like it was a size too small. His pen dangled from his hand, forgotten. His pupils were wide. Dilated. Drunk.
And then there was me.
I'd known Crystal since kindergarten. Back then she was already faster, stronger, hungrier than anyone else. I remember the moment I first saw the hint of muscle on her arms. How it lit something up inside me I didn’t even understand at the time.
Every year, I waited for the first day of school. To see how much bigger she’d gotten.
This year? She was a fucking god.
I made damn sure to be the first person to class. I had to make sure I had a perfect view!
And now, here I am—frozen, wide-eyed, breathing slow, worshipping.
I didn’t even pretend to hide it anymore. I was practically drooling—sometimes literally drooling—as she moved.
Jesus Christ... That arm has to weigh more than both my legs put together...
And sometimes—sometimes—she’d flex. Just for a moment. Hard. Sudden. Turning her bicep into a gnarled, veiny, skin-tight mass of raw, flexed dominance.
Why did she do it? Was it instinct? Pride? Or was it for me?
One daydream bled into another—until I looked up.
And she was looking back. Dead. At. Me.
My breath vanished. My entire body locked up, frozen. She didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. Just stared.
Then—slowly—one side of her mouth curled up.
That smirk. It wasn’t friendly. It wasn’t flirty. It was... ownership.
And then—
"Hahaha!! Oh my God, the doofus has the hots for the gorilla!” came the hyena screech of J.D., loud enough to snap the spell.
That fat fucking blob was cackling like a drunk seal, neck rolls jiggling, red in the face from his own brilliance.
He raised his arm and flexed—if you could call it that. A limp bulge of soft flesh.
“Hey retard! Check out my muscle! Does it make your tiny little dick hard? Huh?” He slapped his friend on the arm like he just delivered the joke of the year.
That’s when it changed.
Crystal didn’t move at first. But her face... shifted.
Like the sky darkening before a storm. Eyebrows lowering. Lips pulling tight.
Her hand slowly balled into a fist. Knuckles turning white.
But it wasn’t the fist that took my breath away. It was her forearm. It was growing.
Veins thickened. Skin tightened. The whole thing swelled like it was stuffed with live snakes, writhing beneath the surface.
J.D. laughed again.
He was too stupid to realize he wasn’t poking a bear—he was jabbing a goddamn demon!
Crystal turned.
Slowly. Mechanically. Like a predator rotating toward its prey.
She locked eyes with J.D.
She didn't say a word. She didn't need to! It seriously looked like she was gonna burn a hole in his head with laser beams out of her eyes!
Then... the sound. A low, deep rumble. Like a fucking grizzly bear! Slowly, her upper lip curled back. Teeth bared. A snarl slowly twisted across her face.
Crystal wasn't angry. She was gonna fucking kill this kid!
The playground was packed. Hundreds of kids—maybe the whole damn school—had gathered in a frenzied swarm.
I shoved my way to the front. No way in hell was I missing this.
In the center of the circle stood Crystal. And J.D.
There was no more laughing. No more jokes. Not from him. Just sweat, and fear, and the kind of hollow-eyed dread that sets in when your mouth’s written a check your body can’t cash.
Crystal didn’t even look angry. She looked calm. Cold. Certain.
She bent down, casually scooping up a basketball.
J.D., desperate for some kind of footing, snorted: “What—you gonna challenge me to a game of Horse?”
Silence.
Nobody laughed. Nobody even blinked.
More than one kid was staring at her arms—wondering which was bigger: the basketball… or the biceps.
But that was nothing compared to what came next.
Without a word, Crystal lowered the ball and slid it between her massive thighs.
J.D. swallowed hard.
The ball looked tiny down there. Like a stress toy trapped between two slabs of granite.
Her eyes never left his. “Keep watching,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.
Then, slowly, the pressure began.
Her legs swelled. Her quads ballooned with muscle.
I could see veins in her thighs! I didn't even know there were veins in thighs!!
And those muscles. God... they looked like bodybuilder legs. I could barely breathe.
"NNnnggghhhh!!!" she moaned as she squeezed her thighs together.
Her hands rose behind her head as she arched her back, eyes fluttering shut. Oh my God, was she getting off on this??
"OOOooooohhhh..." she cooed. Everyone watched in horror as her quads kept getting bigger... and harder. And the ball kept getting smaller... and flatter.
It was obscene! No girl has muscles like this. Especially no 14-year-old fucking girl!
Just look! The ball was getting being squished flat. No fucking way. She didn't really think she could... I mean... it's not even possible is it??
"RRRGGGHHH... OH YEAH... HERE IT COMES!!!"
BOOOOM!!!!
The sound was jarring. Deafening.
I flinched like a gun had gone off inches from my head. So did half the crowd.
I really thought J.D. was gonna shit his pants in that moment.
We never imagined a girl like Crystal could even exist! And here she was. Not just here, but on a mission. To fucking destroy J.D. in front of everybody!
He was shaking. Wobbling like a tower about to collapse. His fat face jiggled with every tremble of fear.
Then Crystal stepped closer. Even though he was taller, she made him look so... small!
"You think that was it?" Crystal laughed. "Oh no... I have a lot more planned for you."
Before he could blink, she lunged forward and grabbed two big fists full of J.D.'s belly fat.
Roaring like a bear, she heaved him up in the air using more strength than I can even fathom!
The entire crowd gasped in unison. The only sound was J.D.’s pathetic squealing, begging her to put him down.
But Crystal didn’t hear him. Didn’t care. She brought him to her chest—then shoved him back up again with a grunt.
Again. And again.
"Look at her arm!!!" someone shouted out.
Holy fuck! Her bicep was as big as a coconut! A veiny, cannonball-shaped monster gleaming under the sun, impossibly round, impossibly hard.
And I was hard.
I was so fucking hard I thought I’d pass out. Not just from lust—but from the weight of it all. The raw force. The total domination.
I wasn’t the only one.
The crowd around me… moans. Whimpers. Some were touching themselves. Some just looked ruined. Destroyed.
And still, Crystal kept going.
"RRRRrrrrrggghhhh!!!! YEEESSS!!" Crystal pressed J.D. over her head again... and again...
"FUUUUCK!!! LOOK AT ME!!!" she roared.
I didn’t know what fueled her anymore—anger, revenge, lust—it all blurred into one glorious, savage high.
She pressed him over her head again, slow, savoring every second. “MMMmmmmm!!!” she groaned, her voice soaked in pleasure.
I couldn’t stop staring. I wanted to touch that bicep. Kiss it. Lick it. Bite it. Sink my teeth into that hard, veiny mountain and see if she even noticed.
My chest was tight. My head spun. I was going to—
And then she snapped.
“You’re NOTHING!!” Crystal bellowed, pulling J.D. down across her shoulders.
Oh God! What fucking pose.
And then... Crystal locked eyes on me. I had felt invisible... like a fly on the wall. But in that moment, she saw me. And I realized... this was all for me!
"RRRRRAAAAGGGGHHH!!!!" With a primal scream, Crystal flexed everything as she bent J.D. across her back.
I couldn't take it anymore. I lost it. Right her, in front of everyone. My body jerked. My knees gave out. I collapsed, panting. Drenched in sweat. Drained.
Around me, others fell too. Collapsing. Weeping. Moaning.
Crystal stood alone in the center of the wreckage.
Untouchable.
Unmatched.
Un-fucking-real.
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.”