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
