[untergr8] The Landlord's Conundrum

[jos73]

TOPICS MERGED

An up-dated version, re-titled, follows...

Young and Powerful
By Dr. Funkenstein
____________________________________

The tenant was late, the usual shit. Rent in arrears and I had to collect. I
showed up at six, which is a good time to catch people off-guard. It
wasn't that I enjoyed hassling, but money is money and I have bills to
pay. I pulled the Falcon up to the driveway and got out. I had the eviction
notice in my hand and was ready with the staple gun when the door
opened. I looked up into the eyes of a dark-haired girl who was maybe
six-three. Beefy in her sweats, but pretty in a jock sort of way. Her chest
said "WESTERN."

"May I help you?" A deep voice, but I expected that from a girl her size.
"I'm looking for Shiela. Rent's two weeks overdue."
She grimaced, exposing dimples in her pretty face. "Sorry, mister. Not
here. Come back in the morning. She may be back."
 She started closing the door, but I jammed my foot in.
"Look," I said, "I've got an evict notice here. You close that door and you
just made a decision for her."
Her gray eyes narrowed for a moment. Then, she opened the door.
"Come in, I guess. She ain't been here a couple of days. I'm her daughter.
My name's Darla."
"I'm Don James. She's always been late, but two weeks is two weeks. I
got bills."
She walked over to the couch and sat down. I treid not to look at her big
ass as she passed in front of me. I've always had a thing for big women,
and she was big. Her thighs stretched out her sweats pretty good.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. James. Sorry about this."
"Well, it's you who'll be doing without after I post this notice. Rent's
rent."
She noticed my stare, I guess., because then she stood up and stretched
her long arms. Then she smiled.
"Do you like big girls, Don? " She flexed her arms and bulged out the
slevees until they were drum-tight. " cause I think do. I think you like
women with muscles."
She pulled her top over her head, exposing a hard, muscular body much
bigger than my own. Her abdominal muscles stood out in sharp relief
under her small breasts. Large, corded arms were highly defined and
changed shape at the slightest movement.
I stammered. Young muscle was my secret fetish. "Gee, I thought you
were fat."
"Does this look like fat, Don?" She flexed her bicep. I jutted into a sharp
peak. I looked at the muscles in her torso layering like shingles into a tiny
waist. He chest was seperated by a clean divide of solid pec deveolpment.
"Maybe we can work something out."


I couldn't beleieve it. Her skin was pale, but glowed with health.
Whenever she inhaled her chest expanded, exposing veins on her ripped
abdomen. The striations of her giant shoulders made them look like
tightly-balled baling wire cover in thin skin. Catlike, she slid off her
sweatpants, standing unashamedly naked before me. Her chisled legs
were even more muscular that her torso. She was magnificent.
Breathtaking.

"Kinda freaky, huh Don?" She bent foreward, placed her hands on the
carpet and exteneded into a handstand. The muscles of her huge lats slid
and bulged. Her lower back looked like thick cables tapering into a
cannonball ass. Her gigantic calves jutted like chisled granite.
She began to do handstand pushups, speaking effortlessly as she moved
her mammoth body up and down.
"I've only been training for a year. I'm four times as strong as the
strongest boy at school. The coach couldn't believe it when I benched
four hundred my first time in the gym." Adroitly, she hand-walked in a
tight circle until she was facing me. Then she canted her splendid body
slightly to the side and proceeded to continue her pushups one-handed.
The torso muscles stood out in sharp relief, hard and defined.
Her massive arms were becoming huge,  veins standing on
veins, biceps exploding into softball-sized peaks.

"I was too big for gymnasics, so I thought I'd go out for wrestling.
Trouble is I don't know my own strength." She bent her arms and pushed
off, arcing through the air. In full control, she landed in front of me. The
floor shook with her weight. She was only inches from me and her smell
hung in the air like steam. "Put a boy in the hospital. I grabbed his arm
and crushed it like a banana. You got a quarter?"
I was covered in sweat, beside myself with desire. I fumbled in my pocket
and extracted a coin. It was a nickel.
"This'll have to do. Watch." She held the nickel in front of me and folded
it in half with her thumb and forefinger. Like it was foil, I thought.
"Jesus, Darla."

She smiled again. "I know, huh. I'm a freak. When I was four I could tear
the yellow pages in half. Mom says I got a great-grandpa who was the
same way. He was a circus strongman. He'd bend railroad spikes with his
hands." She went to the fireplace and picked up the poker. "Watch this
one." Easily, she bent the metal rod into a circle. She flipped it carelessly
aside and walked over to me. She stood about two inches from me and I
looked squarely into her throat. Her musky smell was overpowering.
"Go ahead, Don. Touch my body."

I reached out my hand and tremblingly caressed her shoulder. It was as
big and hard as a bowling ball, and  warm. Groaning, I embraced her bulk,
pressing my swollen crotch into her granite thighs. Her large hands
grabbed my butt and hoisted me effortlessly into the air. She walked to
the couch, grasped my arms with her huge hands and held me out in front
of her as though inspecting a garment. My feet were several inches from
the floor. I stared at the straited canyon seperating her massive pecs.
"You know, Don, I don't want to wrestle you. I'll kill you if I do."
I was in no postion to disagree with her, although the idea of grappling
with her was driving my insane. "No. I've got a better idea. First, though, I
want six months' rent here free."

"What? You're out of your mind! I can't do that!"
Her eyes darkened and she slammed me into the couch, hard. Immediately
she was on me, heavy and perspiring. I tried to flail my arms, but she
effortlessly caught them and forced them above my head with one easy
hand. She edged up until her giant, cut legs were on my shoulders.
Looking up at her was like standing under a statue of Atlas, except atop
this classic physique was a beautiful, angry face. "You don't get it, do you
Don? I'm making you a fantastic offer here." She reached back and began
massaging my straining bulge. "You think offers like this come along
every day? I can give you freakshow sex like you never dreamed of. "
Her legs slid down and cinched my waist. She put her hands down and
went into another handstand, except this time she was holding me
upside-down between her legs. "It wouldn't be good if you make me mad
either, but yoiu know that." She smiled sweetly and released me. As I
collapsed on the floor she sprang onto me and grabbed my head, pulling
it toward her face. She kissed me passionately and I lost control, my
hands moving up and down her statue-like body. The muscles were
springy like rubber when relaxed, but quickly became hard as wood when
she flexed them. She reached down to my levis and ripped them
completely in half.
"Oops." She smiled. "Guess you'll have to stay now."

And so it went for almost two years. I saw Darla three or four times week
and she never paid a dime of rent. The astounding sex just became more
and more intense as the months passed. Her unbelievable strength was
exceeded only by her sexual appetite. I was exhausted most of the time,
my work suffered...but it was worth it. The number of sexual positions we
attained seemed numberless. Darla would hold me suspended in the air
with one had for thirty minutes at a time without tiring, leaving her other
hand free to make its own mayhem. Cuddling up with her was akin to
sleeping with a superheated statue. I never tired of running my hands
along her dense and chisled body, resting my fingers in the seperations of
her abs, the muscles rising like fingers of stone. Her enormous chest
would expand and contract with her deep sleep.At dawn, she'd awake
fully rested and go for a long run with me driving next to her. She'd go
ten or twelve miles in sixty minutes and not seem at all winded.

Watching her ripped legs eat up the pavement was always arousing, so
we'd head beck for even more sex. It was too good to last.
The troubles began as Darla continued to grow. By her eighteenth
birthday, she was six-five and weighed three hundred and twenty pounds.
Her arms, always huge, were now ridiculous. Pumped, they measured
more than twenty inches around. Finding clothes was a problem, as she
had a tendency to split the legs and arms of the baggiest clothes. I could
no longer get my hands to meet behind her back when we embraced.
Always lean, she now appeared to have no skin at all. The fibres and
cable-like veins of her huge muscles stood out at her slightest movement.

And as large as she was, she was much stronger than she looked. I once
saw her overturn a parked Buick as easily as I would turn a mattress, and
it was common for her to crush golf balls in her hands. Once, when we
were shopping for tires, she picked up a big radial and twisted it into a
figure-eight. She could do one-handed pullups all day, and I saw her
punch a large hole in a brick wall with her fist. These are just a few
examples. The problem was that this girl had a temper and wasn't
particlarly smart. I was called into her school one afternoon because she
had taken offense to the cracks a couple of high-school boys had directed
at her. She had apparently walked up to the young men, grabbed them by
their collars and slammed them together with such force that their
combined hospital time totalled two months. When the principal
threatened to call the police she took the phone receiver from his hands
and snapped it in half. She didn't go to school again after that, which
meant more time for me. Unfortunately, more time with Darla was the last
thing I wanted. I just couldn't find a safe way to tell her.

[untergr8]

This piece from 1997 is the first muscle fiction I ever wrote. It languishes somewhere on the Valkyrie site (which still has the same design today as it did then).

The Landlord's Conundrum
by untergr8
_________________________________

My tenant was two months late in the rent. She hadn't returned my calls, so enough was enough. I went to the county and picked up a notice. I went to the house at ten in the morning because it was likely nobody was home. I'd pin the notice and come back in twenty-four hours with the sheriff. If the tenant called in the interim, maybe we could work something out. She still had six months on her lease and I didn't need an unexpected move-out right after Christmas.

I pulled my Falcon into the empty driveway and got out. I had the eviction notice in my hand and was ready with the staple gun when the door opened. I looked up into the eyes of a red-haired girl who was maybe five ten. Beefy in her sweats, but pretty in a jock sort of way. Her chest said "WESTERN."

"May I help you?" A deep voice, but clear and girly.

"I'm looking for Shiela. This is month two of no rent check."

She grimaced, exposing dimples in her pretty face. "Sorry, mister. She's out of town. Maybe try in a couple days."

She started closing the door, but I jammed my foot in. "Look," I said, "I've got an evict notice here. You close that door and you just made a decision for her."

Her brown eyes narrowed for a moment. Then, she opened the door. "Come in, I guess. She ain't been here a couple of days. I'm her daughter. My name's Darla."

"I'm Don James. She's always been late, but two months is too long to let it go. I got bills."

She walked over to the couch and sat down. I tried not to look at the way her big ass filled the sweatpants as she passed in front of me. I've always had a thing for big women, and she was big. Her glutes were like basketballs rolling beneath the fabric. "That's just like her to not pay the rent, She's a bitch. I don't mind saying it."

"This is a business arrangement, Darla." I walked into the dining room. The rug was rolled up and rubber stall mats were on the floor. It looked like a home version of one of those crossfit gyms that have been [popping up lately].  A pull-up bar, a fitness ball, some giant kettlebells and a pair of 110 pound dumbbells. "Is this your boyfriend's stuff here?"

She snorted. "No. It's mine."

I went to the kettlebell. 60kg. I bent and tried to lift it. It was amazingly heavy, but I managed to get it off the ground. I set it back down. "Seriously?"

She came over, a tiny smile on her face. Standing so close to me I could see that she was much bigger than I had thought. She bent and grabbed the bell with her right hand, dropped into a couch and then proceeded to clean and press it twenty times in less than half a minute. Then she repeated it on the left side while I watched, smiling wider as I felt my dick grow in my pants. She set it down, not even winded. "It's not heavy enough, but they don't make them bigger."

I pointed at the 110s. "Those too?"

She snorted. "You must not know the metric system. The bell weighs almost as much. See?" She picked one up  and curled it several times. The sleeve of her sweatshirt was tight with the muscle of her arms and shoulders. "It's not heavy," she said, handing it to me. Like an idiot I tried to take it, the weight crashing to the floor and taking me with it. "Damn," she said. "Well, it's your floor." She picked up the weight and set it next to the other one. "You like big girls, Don?" 

"What do you mean?" I said, my voice breaking. It was my secret, this love of muscle women. My first wife had kidded me about it after she found copied of WPW stashed in a footlocker. She thought it was funny, but I was dead serious about it. I'd even considered booking sessions with a bodybuilder, but was too chicken and too cheap. Still, whenever I saw a muscular woman, my eyes went to her like she was a supermodel. I had a raging erection so hard it was painful.

"Come on, Donny. I know a schmo when I see one. I saw you get weak when you saw me move that weight. I think you like muscle women." And with that she pulled her top over her head, exposing a hard, muscular body. Her tits were tiny, but stuck straight out on the slabs of pectoral. She stepped out of the pants and was wearing a tiny pair of panties. He legs looked smooth and pale until she moved. The fibers beneath the skin became visible, the quad muscles bulging and hardening, the veins on her shoulders and biceps popping out as she tossed the pants into a corner. I was so used to looking at photographs that the idea of the muscles changing shape was new to me. She flexed her right arm and a tower of bicep leaped out. "Oh yeah. You love this shit."

"When I first saw you I thought you were a fat girl."

"I get that a lot because I'm so big.  Kinda freaky, huh?"

"Are you a bodybuilder, then?"


"Fuck no. Mirror athletes all roided up so they can go on stage is not my thing. I'm just working with what God gave me. I have too much energy. I was starting to get fat though, before I talked Shiela into getting me this shit." She pointed at the weights. "But after using it for a few months I got too strong for it. I can literally move those weights all day and not be sore. Even this doesn't do it."

She bent and placed her hands on the mat, then flipped up into a handstand, her back to me. The muscles of her huge lats slid and bulged into the thick cables of her lower back tapering into that cannonball ass. Her calves were huge too, the clean split of them  like granite slabs. She hand-walked in a tight circle so I could see her front, her face getting red with the blood. She pumped out handstand pushups, speaking effortlessly as she moved her mammoth body up and down. The veins on her her arms and chest ran down like cables now, the abs in stark definition.  "I started going to the gym at school, but some coach caught me. He told me I was going to hurt myself by using too much weight. I told him I was just warming up." She kept pumping out the pushups. I lost count at twenty, my heart racing.

"How much weight?" I asked, my voice sounding strange. Somebody else's voice.

"I'm not sure, exactly. Four of the big plates a side, I think. A lot. But I tell you, Don, it was nothing." She canted her splendid body slightly to the side and proceeded to continue her pushups one-handed, five on each side. She arced her back and dropped one of her legs, then the other, standing up in front of me. She glistened with perspiration. "Ok, I guess that was a workout." She was only inches from me and her smell hung in the air like steam. "You know why I'm home? I got suspended. Some kid called me a dyke. I grabbed his arms pushed him into a locker. Broke six ribs and dislocated his shoulder. The thing is, I wasn't even trying to hurt him. I don't know my own strength, I guess. You got a quarter?"

I was covered in sweat, my hands shaking. I fumbled in my pocket and extracted a coin. It was a nickel.

"This'll have to do," she said.  "Watch." She held the nickel in front of me and folded it in half with her thumb and forefinger. Like it was foil, I thought.

"Jesus, Darla."

She smiled again. "What can I say? I'm a freak. Always have been. Maybe I'm a throwback to cavemen or something. I never get sick, rarely get tired. And when I was four I could tear the yellow pages in half. Shiela is strong too, but not like me. She got fat because she's a lazy bitch. The last time she slapped me was when I was eleven. I picked her up and threw her across the room. She never tried that shit again. One time she told me her grandpa was a circus strongman. He could bend railroad spikes with his hands."

She went to the fireplace and picked up the poker. Easily, she bent the metal rod into a circle. She flipped it carelessly aside and walked over to me. She stood about two inches from me and looked up at me. Her musky smell was overpowering. "Go ahead, Don. Touch me."

I reached out my hand and tremblingly caressed her shoulder. It was as big and hard as a bowling ball, and warm. Groaning, I embraced her bulk, pressing my swollen cock into her granite thighs. She grabbed my butt and hoisted me effortlessly and walked to  the couch. She dropped me on it, then grasped my arms lifted me in front of her as though inspecting a garment. My feet entirely off the floor. I stared at her striated pecs, her beautiful white teeth and full lips.

"You know, Don, I don't want to wrestle you. I'd kill you." I was in no position to disagree, although the idea of grappling with her was driving my insane. "No. I've got a better idea. First, though, I  want six months' rent here free."

"You know I can't do that."

Her eyes darkened and she slammed me into the couch, hard. Immediately, she was on me, heavy and perspiring. I tried to flail my arms, but she effortlessly caught them and forced them above my head with one easy hand. She pushed her knee into my chest. I was being crushed. Looking up at her was like standing under a statue of Atlas except for the  beautiful, angry face.  "We're not negotiating, Don." She reached back and began massaging my straining cock. "You think I do this for everyone? You're not bad looking in your way. And I don't want to move. I like it here."

Her legs slid down and cinched my waist. She put her hands down and went into another handstand, except this time she was holding me upside-down between her legs. "Besides, you don't want me to get mad, do you?"

She smiled sweetly and released me. As I collapsed on the floor she sprang onto me and grabbed my head, pulling it toward her face. She kissed me passionately and I lost control, my hands moving up and down her statue-like body. The muscles were springy like rubber when relaxed, but quickly became hard as wood when she flexed them. She reached down to unbutton my pants and ripped them in half.

"Oops." She smiled. "Guess you're not going anywhere."

And so it went for almost two years. I saw Darla three or four times week and she never paid a dime of rent. The astounding sex just became more and more intense as the months passed. Her unbelievable strength was exceeded only by her sexual appetite. I was exhausted most of the time, my work suffered...but it was worth it. The number of sexual positions we attained seemed numberless. Darla would hold me suspended in the air with one had for thirty minutes at a time without tiring, leaving her other hand free to make its own mayhem. Cuddling up with her was akin to sleeping with a superheated statue. I never tired of running my hands along her dense and chiseled body, resting my fingers in the separations of her abs, the muscles rising like fingers of stone. Her enormous chest would expand and contract with her deep sleep. At dawn, she'd awake fully rested and go for a long run with me driving next to her. She'd go eight miles in sixty minutes and not seem at all winded. Watching her ripped legs eat up the pavement was always arousing, so we'd head beck for even more sex.

It was too good to last. For one thing, she kept getting bigger. It may have been a strange type of giantism, but without the attendant health problems.

And as large as she was, she was much stronger than she looked. I once saw her overturn a parked Buick as easily as I would turn a mattress, and it was common for her to crush golf balls in her hands. Once, when we were shopping for tires, she picked up a big radial and twisted it into a figure-eight. She could do one-handed pullups all day, and I saw her punch a hole in a brick wall with her fist.

These are just a few examples. She had a terrible temper and wasn't especially smart. I was called into her school one afternoon because she had taken offense to the cracks a couple of high-school boys had directed at her. She grabbed them by their collars and slammed them together with such force that their combined hospital time totaled two months. When the principal threatened to call the police she took the phone receiver from his hands and snapped it in half. She didn't go to school again after that, which meant more time for me.

Unfortunately, more time with Darla was the last thing I wanted. I just couldn't find a safe way to tell her.

[phil123]

Great story. Thanks
Any idea for more. Her mother gets also into growing big?
Darla uses her free time to get much bigger?

[aldebaran086]

Great story indeed! I look for more of this.

[untergr8]

I remember reading this story way back when on DTV.  Didn't you also write a bunch of stories about a character named Darla Steele who may or may not have been this same antagonist?

No, that was a different author. This was the only one I write on DTV.

[untergr8]

Shame it's the only one! Do you have any other work you're planning on posting here?

Yeah, I have another piece in this section and one in the fantasy as well as a true story in FBB gossip.

[bicepboy]

It's good for something so old.

This is a very strange comment. First off, it ain't so old. Second, it comes from a golden age of muscle stories. Everything since then is pretty derivative.

[untergr8]

It's good for something so old.

This is a very strange comment. First off, it ain't so old. Second, it comes from a golden age of muscle stories. Everything since then is pretty derivative.

Yeah, I dusted it off a little bit when I posted this. Some edits and changes to make the writing stronger. At the time, DTV was the only place to go for anything FBB related. I think Ray Martin and WPW started right around then too.

[Lupus753]

None of my favorite stories on the Valk site were written until the early 2000s.

[seldom]

Wow, great to see this here! I've loved this story for years and re-read it on DtV many times!

[sgaww]

Great! A true classic.

I once wrote a "fan-fic" of this! [Never posted my fan-fic.]

[shamus0013]

I've always loved this story. Ever thought of picking up the character again? It'd be interesting to learn what Darla was capable of as a full-grown adult.