Author: [adambright777] From my Archives: Stories of Girls with Abs

[adambright777]

ABS STORY
by adambright777
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THE GIRL WITH THE GOLDEN ABS follows...
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She pushed through rep after rep - her midsection burning with each intense flex.  She was wincing in pain, but it was a good pain that she enjoyed in the sadistic base of her mind that drove her to reach physical perfection.  over and over she crunched, then lifted her torso.  These weren't little crunches she was doing.  no, she was repping out vertical weighted situps holding a 50-lb dumbbell behind her head causing incredible torque and leverage across her mid-line, and she was lowering her body to vertical, upside-down, hanging from her knees above the floor from the bottom bar of a pair of gymnastic uneven bars.  She was 18 years old and 10 years of gymnastics training had honed her physique to perfection.  Endless summers of presses, flips, jumps and holds, combined with hours of tortuous conditioning, had created muscles everywhere in her body.  No muscle group was a weak point - she had complete and total development in her arms, chest, abs, glutes and thighs.  Moreover, she had had access to the top diet information and her single-minded pursuit of perfection had reduced her food intake to frequent meals of lean proteins and mounds of veggies.  She had no craving for sweets or fats, but had simply eaten clean every day for the least 4 years as she pushed the envelope of performance.  Her perfect diet and hours of sweat-dripping intense cardio and running had eliminated all fat from her body.  her tanned, youthful skin stretched like saran-wrap across her body, revealing musculature that bunched and flexed in her back, abs and legs with the slightest of movement.  All she wanted was pure, ripped, functional muscle - muscles that could to propel her body in any direction, with massive force and leverage.

She reached 30 reps with the weight before needing to pause, then she continued her ab exercise with only the slightest of rest.  Over and over she curled with deliberate precision, making sure that each rep was complete and that she crunched and flexed her abdominal wall hard at the top, and then slowly letting the weight rip her abs apart in a controlled descent before starting again.  None of the other girls on her team could handle the 50-pounder, but here she was, cranking out reps with the heavy weight.  The pain was excruciating, but her body was handling the weight and despite the discomfort, she tackled each rep as it came.

The tops of her thighs were cords of muscle that twitched and jutted from her skin as she began each rep.  The lines of muscles at the tops of her quads stood out in bold relief and her hip flexors each looked like inch-thick cables that disappeared into deep crevices where her thighs met her chiseled hips.  She had warmed up for this workout session with interval sprints across the gymnasium and her incredible exertions had produced copious amounts of sweat that caused her muscles to glisten under the lights.  She was wearing a too-small (on purpose) spandex gymnast leotard that clung to her torso like a second skin.  It was white in color, and even though her upper-body was fully-clothed, the deep crevice where her pecs met  was etched through the material, and her blocks of her abs and the finger-sized muscles of her obliques and serratus stuck though clearly and completely in bold relief.  She may as well have been naked after the sweat made the material cling to the ridges across her chest and midsection.

She reached 70 reps and her abs were on fire.  Part of her wanted to drop the weight and collapse, but her mental determination was the victor.  She did rep after tortuous rep, flexing her six-pack to the extreme.  The heavy weight also caused her obliques and serratus to pump up and help with each lift, such that her entire abdomen was a rippling sea of definition that was flexing and contracting; flexing and contracting, over and over in a pulsing rhythm of sweat and bunching muscles.

She reached 100 reps - finally!  But this was not end of the workout.  No, she then curled her body to parallel to the floor and held the position in a static hold  only supporting herself by the power of her fully-flexed abdominal muscles that ran along her stomach.  Each individual bulge of her rectus abdominus was prominently jutting out and the material of her white leotard left nothing to the imagination, with her tops of her abs flowing into the perkiest breasts atop chiseled pecs.  Her 14-inch biceps flexed hard to control the dumbbell at the end of her body - still clasped behind her head.  "I won't quit.  I won't quit" she told herself over and over.  Her eyes were shut in focused, painful concentration, and her breath came in short, controlled gasps - each exhale perceptibly tightened her torso muscles. She alternated between an image of the perfect muscular female abdomen in her head, and then opening her eyes to focus on the rows of ab muscles that ran down along her stomach.  The pain, the hours, the intense sacrifice had all paid off, and her body was perfect and strong.  The price to keep such power were workouts like this.  Daily.

She finally dropped the weight after a full minute and let herself briefly hang upside-down with her abdomen fully stretched.  Even in a full extension, her concave stomach showed abs that were visible through her leotard, with every etch plainly seen.  She then dropped to the floor.  Her abs routine demanded by her gymnastics coach was now complete, but she was never satisfied with doing the minimum.  She went into the weight room, locked the door, and then walked over to the pullup bar.  The hanging inverted situps had torched her upper abs (and her lower abs, too), but she liked to work her abs from every possible angle, so that each muscle was fully and completely developed.  She peeled off the leotard and now dressed herself in a two-piece outfit: a sports bra and a bikini bottom - similar to the outfit worn by a pole vaulter, only a little skimpier.  This was the attire she liked to wear when she could watch herself in the mirror, as she was about to do now.   the tiny top covered the bottom of her pert breasts and the workout bottoms were cut very low to show the flat panels of muscle right above her pubis.  Her stomach wall was totally and completely exposed, showing her glistening array of abdominal musculature. Before jumping up to the bar, she moved close to the mirror and stuck her thumbs into the waistband of her bottoms to pull them down to just above her pussy.  Her abdominal development was so awesome and she had worked her abs for so long, combined with her ultra-low bodyfat, she had a full 10-pack of abs.  There were the 8 sections of her stomach, but then, all the way down to her pubis were two final sections that were flexed and existed below the bottom blocks of abs below her bellybutton.  Her gymnastics training and her extreme and heavy abdominal workouts, combined with shredded, nonexistent bodyfat levels, had given her torso development so insane that these bottom 2-packs popped through in little bulging inverted triangles of muscle that ran directly to the top of her neatly-shaved pussy.  The total strength she had throughout her abs allowed her to curl her pelvis up towards her ribs even with weights at the ends of her ankles - and this was the next exercise for her.

She flexed her stomach and held the contraction, feeling the burn and tightness all along her midsection.  She placed her palms and fingers on her muscles and twisted ever so slightly from side to side, allowing the contours of her abdomen to re-shape themselves in a muscle display that pleased her tremendously.  Hours and hours of cardio and sprints and her fanatically clean diet had revealed all the muscles clearly.  Her waist barely measured 21 inches, but the last inch was extra muscle that she had added to her waist over the past few years.  Because she was so young, her skin had a healthy and deep glow, and the definition was revealed with veins that snaked from her bellybutton to her pussy.  She loved her lower abs.  She loved wearing tight tops with short midriffs and low-slung jeans that revealed the cuts of her bottom 4-pack.  But even more she loved the bottom abs - the ones just above her pussy.  Few people could ever train and see them unless the diet and training was perfect, and because she had these muscles, it gave her a permanent sense of sexiness that was exhilarating.

She jumped to the bar and admired her fully-extended body and the 10-pack, obliques and serratus she had built in her abdomen, now revealed fully without the tank top.  Even stretched completely from head to toe, her abs still shone each individual section in this unflexed state with crisp cuts.   God, she looked sexy.  And now to pay her dues, she used her feet to grab a 20-lb dumbbell between her ankles, and then slowly, painfully, performed straight-leg lifts with the dumbbell, up to eye-level.  Her flexibility of her hamstrings and glutes was on display and her lower-abs strength was unbelievable, as she controlled the weight up and down, over and over, flexing and releasing her perfect midsection in a measured tempo.  From the side, her abs resembled a cheese-grater and her hip flexors and lower abs flexed and convulsed with each tortuous rep.  This was the key to her dominance.  this was the key to her perfect body.  She was willing to do what others couldn't in sculpting a physique beyond parallel.  And the hard work manifested itself in the beauty displayed in the mirror in front of her.

After gutting through 100 reps of the straight-leg hanging leg raises with 20 lbs.  She walked over to her gym bag and pulled out her "secret weapon": a small, yet powerful vibrator.  "My reward for my hard work" she thought to herself.  She applied a small dollop of lubricant to the head and reached into her bottoms to insert the device.  As it turned on and entered her pussy, a warm, happy radiance shot through her groin and into her stomach.  The instant electrifying feeling caused her knees to buckle slightly and her abs to flex uncontrollably for a split-second, revealing density and definition beyond compare.  With the vibrator buzzing deep within her, she jumped back up to the bar, grabbed the 50-lb weight again with her ankles, and hung.  With her legs perfectly straight, she raised them to parallel and held them there in a forceful contraction that resisted the heavy weight at the end of her legs.  The tugging of the weight against her abs and legs, and the strong muscle contraction in her hips, pelvis and lower stomach, caused painful and enjoyable sensations of pain and pleasure to emanate from her crotch.  Her abs twitched and flexed - sometimes on purpose and sometimes not, as the vibrator tingled and tickled her inner-most muscles in her vagina.  At the seconds ticked by in her abdominal hold, her legs stayed perfectly straight and her abs flexed harder and harder to keep the weight aloft.  The "sexy hurt" she was generating became more and more intense. She found herself doing little pelvic rocks with her lower abs to simulate an imaginary partner.  The motions intensified in speed and her abs began to contract harder and harder.  The muscles were all flexed fully and each muscle of her 10-pack looked like a row of billiard balls leading straight down to her sex, with the bottom two serving as a muscular gateway to her crotch and her overdeveloped hip flexors rising up from her upper thighs tracing a line to her vagina.  Every muscle possible from the bottoms of her ribs to the tops of her knees was indescribably hard and tensed as she neared orgasm.  The combination of strain from flexing her muscles of her pelvis and abs with the sensations of tickling and pressure inside her drove her to higher and higher levels of ecstasy.  She looked straight ahead at the image of her impossibly tight and muscular body and began to get off.  Every muscle seemed to point to her crotch in an erotic display of power - from her bulging hip flexors to the dense "V" of her lower obliques that ran along the sides of her upper-hips, to the grid of her rectus abdominus that supported her muscular thighs suspended above the ground and ran all the way down to her pubis in two continuous, rippled cables.  Her breaths became shallow and shorter and she craned her neck upwards as if pleading to an unseen god for stamina.  She bucked her hips in response to the ever-increasing shocks of pain and pleasure she was enduring and let the weight crash to the floor.  But she held her legs straight, still and allowed the torture to continue with the lighter load.  she also began to slowly open and close her legs in slow, controlled motions all the way to a hanging side-splits, and then back to pointing forward.  She kept her toes pointed the entire time and her legs steel-straight, only using her abs and thighs to repeat the slow, methodical exercise.

Watching her thighs open and close and seeing the movements of her muscle contractions in her stomach, hips and thighs was a display of beauty and power that drove her to the edge.  Sweat was trickling from her chest, down her carved midsection, and pooling in her waistband and the cris-cross of muscles where her thighs met her hips. The repetitive opening and closing of her legs intensified the feelings in her crotch higher still, and each rep allowed her the erotic view of the thick and prominent inner-thigh cables that ran along the inside of her flexed thighs directly to her crotch.   Part of her wanted to let go, to drop from the bar, to relieve the pains coming from her tiring and taxed abs, crotch and groin muscles, but her desire to push past all pain and all exhaustion, to build her muscles stronger, tighter, and bigger and to focus on the incredible sensations that wracked her body kept her going longer and longer.  She was now in a constant orgasm and her body was twitching uncontrollably all the way from her wrists to her toes - a display of ripped musculature the likes few have ever seen, but she now treated herself to on a daily basis.  The intense pleasure/pain she was feeling allowed her to stress every muscle fiber, every energy system, and the deep, core of her being in a wave of pure, perfect intensity that became, ultimately, unbearable.  The body-rocking and mind-numbing orgasm ripped through her body and her abs and legs and arms finally gave out.  She collapsed to the floor.  Her deep pussy muscles and lower abs that clamped down on the vibrator finally relaxed, and the hum of the machine raised in pitch as the internal pressure her muscles had been placing on the device were loosened.

After about a minute she raised her sweaty body from the floor and stood up in front of the mirror.  She cocked her head to one side and bore down to flex her 10-pack.  The muscles ached, but obediently jumped to life in sweat-slicked ridges of muscle .  She was perfect.  "Another great workout" she thought to herself, as she left the gym, only to return tomorrow...

*Karma, please, and I may write more stories like this.  Thanks

[solitariodude]

  Talk about in'tense'...

[Jeremy Lightning]

Wow, what a great story, I love workouts like this, of all kinds, girls pushing themselves past their limits, showing incredible toughness and stamina, probably embarrassing any males that try and compare themselves to her, or try to do her workout routine, only to find that they are lacking to a younger, smaller girl. k+!

[Justinian]

Love the orgasm/exercise types of stories... just really works as a trope!

Nice work.

[adambright777]

I wrote this YEARS ago and I saw some user on another site kept it alive on the internet.  I'd like to share it with you again.

Karma if you like, thanks.

THE GIRL WITH THE GOLDEN ABS
by adambright777


I love the way my girlfriend knows how to push my buttons. She knows exactly what gets me excited, and she doesn't mind that my tastes are out of the ordinary. Not only does she encourage my fantasies, but they have become her own too. You see, the fact that she is a former gymnast and swimmer with the sexiest rock-hard stomach I had personally ever seen is good enough to be a perpetual turn on, but the additional fact that she likes to work out for me, so I can watch her abs flex when she performs her gruelling workouts makes me want her even more. I love female abdominals - washboard bellies, six-pack stomachs, attained through dedication or genetics, or both. I met my girlfriend at the gym in college while she was a competitive swimmer and we got together. As we dated, she discovered how much I worshipped her body and paid extra attention to her rippled stomach, and fortunately for me, she was very proud of her muscles. My fetish for her abs spurred her to keep her fantastic shape and work on her stomach muscles even more for me. Man, was I lucky. But one night, I found out that I was even luckier than I had ever imagined.


I came home from work one night after a late evening at the office. It was a Friday and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I didn't see my girlfriend immediately, so I poked around the apartment to see if she was home. I turned the corner into the bedroom and was greeted by a familiar, yet still stunning sight. My girlfriend was hanging upside-down on the chin-up bar that she had attached to the doorway of our closet. She was supported on the bar by the undersides of her knees and she had her hands clasped behind her head holding a 10 lb weight. I watched her crunch her abs and curl her upper body as she did controlled sit-ups, one after another. She didn't notice me yet, so I got to gaze at her delicately muscled body as she pumped out her reps. She was about 5' 6" and 115 lbs, half-asian and half caucasian, which gave her the muscle tone of the average american girl jock, but the smooth, flawless bronzed skin indicative of her Asian ancestry. She had beautiful athlete's thighs, and knotted calves to go with them. Her arms and shoulders were buffed as well, from her days as a swimmer and gymnast - not huge, but certainly big enough on her frame to let you know that she was strong and could pop her biceps in front or your eyes at will. On her upswing, when her back was facing me as she crunched at the top, I could she her detailed back muscles as they clenched from holding the weight. She got those too, from swimming and regular workouts gave her the sought-after "V"-shaped physique. But oh, those abs. Those were what made her body perfect. She always showed her abs when she and I went out and everyone's eyes are compelled to sneak a glance at her exquisitely muscled torso. Her serratus and ribs melded together along the sides of waist, forming deep cinch in her waist. Between the tops of her hips and the bottom of her ribcage lay her 6 slightly offset abdominal muscles,: flat and hard as stretches her stomach, ribbed and ripped as she flexes for each repetition. She claims she's had a six-pack as long as she could remember. It's true: I saw a picture of her once when she was at the beach with her parents when she was 12 and even then her little girl's bikini revealed the hints of visible stomach muscles. Her time in gymnastics built the muscles in her frame and her collegiate swimming days basically stripped away whatever little body fat she ever had in the first place. Now, at 24 years of age, she had the perfect female athlete's body. And she liked to push it to its limits. She forced herself to endure morning and evening workouts to keep her perfection, and even better, she let me watch and "help" her workout at times. I could tell that this evening was going to be one of those times.


Her naturally tan body was covered only by a pair of dark blue soccer umbros and a tiny navy-colored sportsbra. Eventually her muffled sighs as she completed each rep stopped when she noticed me as she was hanging upside down. "Hello, baby!" she said with a inviting smile, as she let go of the weight and motioned for me to come closer. I stood right in front of her as she was hanging, and then she curled her body to parallel to the ground as I bent over slightly to kiss her lips. We kissed passionately for over a minute, and the knowledge that she was holding her body perfectly still and parallel against gravity using her abs as we kissed made me instantly erect. When we finished, she held her position with her stomach muscles permanently tensed. I lightly ran my hand over her breasts down to her stomach and felt the hardness of her muscles. "Doing your sit-ups, I see."


"Yeah, but I think I'm going to need to use the fifteen pounder in the future." She said, as she whacked her solid midsection with her small fist. "I'm getting stronger all the time" she beamed, "But you know I need you to really push me to get even harder." To which she curled up all the way and grabbed the bar with her hands en route to dropping lightly to the floor. Her golden body was glowing with sweat, and she exhaled deeply for my benefit to show her six-pack contract into a grid of firm, young muscle. "You think you're tough, huh?" I said. She nodded as she gave me a double biceps pose and a cheesy grin. "Okay," I said, "Get back up there." Now our familiar game would begin.


She reached up to the bar again at my command and hung from the bar this time using her hands. She was conditioned to hold her body rigid as a board from her gymnastics training, and to do so, her thighs, arms and stomach were tensed. I could see her six-pack was more defined than ever, along with the muscles of her legs, shoulders and arms. "She must really be running a lot and watching her diet," I thought to myself.


"Fifty leg raises. Now" I commanded. She smiled a wry smile and began cranking out her reps. As she lifted her legs up to parallel, and began to lower them, I chastised her for not going all the way up. "You know the rules: touch the bar with your toes." She frowned briefly, but pulled her thighs all the up to the bar on the next rep. I counted as she powered her legs up to the bar each time. At the bottom, her abs would stretch out and she would inhale, only to be followed by a quick flex of her stomach as she used her brick-hard lower abdomen to curl her pelvis toward the bar. After 10 reps, she was still gracefully lifting her body over and over, though her smile had been replaced with a look of severe concentration as she focused on maintaining her perfect form. She took a full second to lift her legs, held each rep at the top for a second, then slowly pulled her legs down until her body was completely straight. That's what I loved about watching her exercise: she never cheated, or made the exercise easier. I soaked in the sight of a bead of sweat that had formed in her chest as it meandered down her rippled stomach. With each rep, all the muscles in her body tightened, and her flat, muscular stomach became a solid washboard. I walked to one side and watched her six-pack flex all through her range of motion, even as her toes pointed upward at the top. On the 20th rep, I decided to make things a little more interesting.


Halfway up, I told her to stop and hold her legs parallel to the floor. "I'm going to get the weights. Keep your legs there." She obeyed. She loved doing static holds for her abs. She told me once that she liked the intense pain that developed in her muscles when she held her abs in a permanent contraction. I guess that should have been a clue that she was a masochist in some way. The tension she maintained really cut up her stomach muscles, and her six-pack stood out in bold relief. I grabbed the 10lb leg weights and strapped them to her ankles. "Now, you got thirty more to do." She continued her paused rep and pulled her legs up to the top again, but now it was obvious she really had to work to get her legs up to the bar. Her next 10 reps were accompanied by a sexy grunt as she lifted her legs each time. She would get halfway, but the extra force her abs needed to pull her legs perpendicular to the floor at the top and touch the bar was really tiring her out. Her look of focused concentration was still on her face, but the pain in her abs caused her brow to furrow into the beginnings of a whimper. But still she cranked out her reps.


"Come on, muscles, you aren't going to quit on me. You want a tough stomach, don't you?" My words spurred her on, and her next rep was more forceful than the one before. She sneered at me in competition as she crunched her abs. But the fatigue was getting to her anyway. On the thirtieth rep, I pushed her ankles down as she pulled her legs to the top and swung her legs forcefully back down. "Come on, resist me more." I barked. Her six-pack was gleaming with sweat by now and her thighs were pumped from being flexed constantly this whole time. She was slowing down now on the upswing, and I didn't hold back as I threw her legs down once she touched the top. "Fuck!" She yelled, as she willed her abs to perform. "Don't stop now. Come on, be strong," I encouraged. The look of concentration on her face had been replaced by a look of pain and anguish, but her pride wouldn't let her stop. Besides, I knew that she had a lot more to give.


"How strong are you? Show me how strong your rock-hard stomach is." My words helped her as she finally reached 40 reps. Not once had she broken form, but her perfect execution took the same strength as if she had done 200 reps. "Hold it." She paused her legs at parallel again. "Wait for me." I said. She was to hold her legs at parallel until I told her to begin again. She winced and bit her lip, but her bulging abs hadn't failed her yet. I reached out and felt her stomach with my hand and was greeted by the intense warmth of her overworked abdominals. I felt between the 1/2 inch crevice between her six-pack and lightly glided my palm over her shredded obliques. "You gymnasts are supposed to be tough. Are you still tough? Huh?" I punctuated my last question with a light punch to her abs. She grunted lightly, but still held her form legs rock solid and abs flexed. "You can't break me." She said, defiant. "Punch me again. Feel how hard my abs are. My abs are stronger than you think." The words gritted through her teeth.


Now this was surprising. Normally, she made me overwork her in her ab routine, but never had she asked me to punch her more than once. But the thought of testing her rock-hard abdominal wall was an opportunity I craved. "Lift up!" I commanded. She struggled up again, toes touching the bar. When she pulled her legs down again, I let go with a solid hook to her lower abs. It wasn't a strong punch, but not a weak one either. My fist met the firm flesh or her abs and bounced back, like tense rubber. "UP!" Ð she lifted again, and on the way down, I punched again Ð right on her bellybutton. "Smack!" went my hand on her stomach. "Show me how tough you are" I barked. "UP!" with each rep, she lifted her legs, and flexed to endure another punch from me into her abs. She was clearly weakening now, but her incredible physique kept powering her abs until she reached 50.


"Get down here!" I shouted. She dropped from the bar. "FLEX. NOW." She held her hands behind her head and tensed her perfect abdomen. I punched her. Hard. She took a step back, but didn't say anything, tacit acceptance of my torture. How much could she take? I swung again and the meaty sound of my fist against her stomach thudded through the room again. Her uneven abdominals were covered with sweat and she was breathing heavily. As she exhaled I let go again. "THUD!" This time she let out a low, guttural groan, but held her hands still behind her head. I continued to pepper her stomach with punch after punch, each time the loud "THWACK" caused by my fist hitting her solid midsection sounded, and each time her stomach valiantly stayed rigid. She began to softly whine between punches, but she would say "give it to me, make my abs stronger." Finally, I said, "One more, then you get the royal treatment." She closed her eyes and I pounded a solid straight punch right to the center of her sculpted abs. She doubled over, but never let go with her hands. "Grab the bar again." She jumped up onto the bar. "Flex your stomach, baby." Again, I was treated to the sight of her ribbed six-pack tensing. I stuck my finger inside her and began playing with her pussy. "Ooooh" she moaned. I then drilled a short hook to her stomach. "OOOOOH!" she groaned. I continued to punch and finger her until finally, after breathing rapidly and flexing her abs beyond comprehension, I plowed into her lower stomach a final, devastating shot right as she came in spasms of pleasure. Her abs rapidly flexed and contracted with her orgasm and she fell to the floor. I watched her as she enjoyed the waves of pleasure that eventually subsided. "We should workout like that more often" she said, breathlessly. Her abs slowly expanding and contracting into the perfect female waistline. "Wow, you're pretty strong. I'll have to try and break you again." I said. With that, she patted her stomach: "You won't be able to as long as I train like that!

[dukeblue]

Well done.

I’m a big fan of abs punching and showing off how hard they are.

[jacksundeen3]

  such a great story! Love the detail and progression.

[ASDFG123]

This was the story that turned me into an abs lover for life... combined with this and your other story you've posted, you are among my favourite writers already!  I hope you have more to share from that archive of yours

[Sicod]

Amazing story. Thanks for posting!

[jacksundeen3]

Surprised no one posted part 2 of this story yet:

[jacksundeen3]

PART 2
Surprised no one posted part 2 of this story yet: https://www.*****surfingdiamond/art/Golden-Girl-with-Golden-Abs-Part-2-699025570   

"We're not done here." I said with a grin. Her eyes widened. "What? I just had a freaking o-ooohw!" I placed my foot on her sweating six-pack and pushed her back down to the floor, right when she was struggling to stand up after her torturous workout that she believed was over after her orgasm. "Flex your abs, I don't care how much they hurt right now." I demanded, pushing more of my weight onto her bare stomach muscles that were still hard and cramping from the excessive strain of the last fifteen minutes of leg lifts and abs punching. Her mouth opened in protest. I looked into her eyes, and could see a faint glow. She wasn't done. Instead, she leaned back, forcefully stretching her aching abs again, and accepted my complete weight onto her stretched out body when I put my other foot onto her defined midsection. "Lift your arms and legs." I ordered, and she grit her teeth once again to channel a bit of the pain that her overworked abs were sending. With a groan, she stretched her arms behind her slightly raised head, and brought her legs horizontally to the floor, still holding up the 10lb weights. She was trembling from exhaustion now, but the tension of her muscles below my feet was just amazing. I felt like I was stepping on a set of warm stones in the sand as she took the weight of my body. Her facial expression was somewhere between defiance, anguish, and prideful pleasure. We both knew her abs still had some more to give, and I was determined to find out just how much she could take in this condition. 

For a while, I just stood there, my feet tightly together, with her bellybutton between them. When I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, her eyes would widen, becoming angrier, but she didn't complain and just rose her upper or lower body a bit to meet the challenge. I almost couldn't believe the amount of punishment she was taking willingly and, so far, silently. When I lifted my right foot completely, however, forcing all of my 150 lbs onto a smaller patch of her powerful washboard, she gasped audibly and closed her eyes. I started to flex my foot rhythmically, going up and down against her muscles to further increase the stress, and she responded with a quiet whine. It was obvious that she had trouble breathing now, but she still held her whole body rigid and kept the weights up while I tried to crush her incredible abs. She moaned after half a minute, and opened her eyes with an almost furious expression. "Is that all you have? I can take more!" Her voice was clearly aroused now, and just to prove her point, she somehow flexed her stony muscles even harder with a grunt of effort. Her gaze demanded an even more grueling challenge, and my mind was racing to come up with a way to break her. "Shut up!" I said and jumped half a foot into the air, only to land on her wet six-pack that seemed tougher than a truck's rubber tire. She twitched and snorted, the muscles and tendons in her beautiful neck straining to keep a cry inside, but she still looked into my eyes. I will never forget the suffering, unsatisfied, crazy expression on her face when she said: "Break me. Please." 

My heartbeat was so loud that I couldn't keep my voice calm and dominant anymore. "Stay on the ground. You will regret this." I tried to threaten her, but she actually smiled when I stepped down and waited for my next attack on her abs. When I held up the ten pound weight she was using for her upside-down sit-ups high above her body, she was hardly surprised, and nodded eagerly. She was looking at her own six-pack abs that where now defined and ripped as I've never seen them before. I aimed at the second pair of her billiard ball abs and let go of the iron plate. It dropped down at least four feet before crashing into her solid musculature that she was flexing even tighter right before the impact. "SSSH!" She took the hit with a loud, sharp hiss, and the weight bounced off vertically with a painful thud. I caught it in the air and immediately lifted it again, higher this time. Not giving her any time to prepare, I let it drop five feet, right onto her bellybutton, and she screamed for the first time. Still, the unbelievable flex she was holding deflected the impact. I took the weight back as she started to cry silently from the pain. Showing no mercy, I dropped the weight again, and again, making her scream again and shake with the ever increasing level of anguish. Tears were running down her cheeks now. Her chest was heaving and twitching from her sobbing and the impacts, but her eyes looked at her muscles with burning desire. "Harder!" she cried between her grunts of effort to flex against the metal plate that I was punching into her amazing abdominals. I continued to drive the metal plate into her, as fast and hard as I could without missing my sexy target. Her belly was seriously reddening now. Her skin was taking a lot of abuse from the sharp impacts of the iron weight. Yet, her tough musculature and her seemingly infinite willpower made it bound back every time, even when I put some extra downward force behind it. She just stayed as rigid as the trunk of a palm tree. It was hard to grasp for me: She was finding joy in this torture! From the way her whole body shook every time the plate hit her abs, I realized she wasn't even running on sheer willpower alone - she was in a trance of sexual arousal. We had never followed her masochistic tendencies to this level before.

  I stopped, with the plate in my hands, breathing heavily. She had endured so many hits that she had even exhausted the strength of my arms. I was so proud of my girl, but at the same time, I became worried that I would really hurt her this time. Of course, I wanted to find her limit, but my racing mind couldn't come up with anything tougher than the things I already did to her today. Was her six-pack really invincible? I wanted to find out, and I could see that she wished for me to continue, even though she was crying from the punishment of my non-stop attacks to her perfect abdominals. She looked at me. She couldn't speak clearly anymore, but her mouth formed words like "Hurt...more...Fuck...Abs...Break...me...". It was more than I could take. My girlfriend was just crazy. And beautiful. And so, so strong. How could I possibly increase the pleasure for her without risking a serious injury?

Her old softball bat was out of the question, it would have crushed her bones if I missed her abs. I needed to overload her, somehow.  "Raise your legs and arms, into a V position." I announced. She grit her teeth and executed my order. "Hold this." I handed her the 10lb plate. She took it into her outstretched arms. It was clearly increasing her torment: She let out a high-pitched grunt, but her body remained rigid, if trembling. Pearls of sweat were streaming down in rivulets between her burning stomach muscles. But she was still in control of her body. Her form was still great: She pointed her toes like a ballerina, as she they had been taught in years of gymnastic drills. "Straighten your back!" She obeyed, grimacing and letting out a soft whine. "Raise your legs higher!" I demanded, controlling her body with my words. She valiantly began to tighten her abs further to meet my expectations. "Raise your shoulders!" She complied immediately, but couldn't stop herself from moaning with pain and pleasure. Both halves of her body were in a 45 degree angle now. Even in this curled position, her slim waist wasn't wrinkling up at all. Her skin was tensed tightly against her rippling abs, each of the six boulder-like mounds perfectly visible, and glowing with hard-earned perspiration. I could see her excitement dampening her lap. Every muscle fiber in her body was now forced to flex as hard as humanly possible by the sheer willpower of her lust, which was in turn driven beyond reason by the sexual feeling growing from the pain those cramping muscles were constantly feeding. Her breaths became faster and heavier. She was starting to make noises that reminded me of a woman giving birth - and she was certainly in similar agony.  But I still wasn't done with her. "Lower your legs and arms!" She stretched her midsection again, gasping loudly. I could see her abs sending terrible ripping feelings through her body. "And back up!" She shut her eyes to squeezed out some more tears, but she followed the order. "Continue, down and up!" She obeyed. Her gasps turned into quiet cries again. She was clearly reaching the absolute limits of her body now, but she refused to be defeated. "Faster!" I commanded. She stepped up the rhythm of her self-inflicted torture. For a while, I just watched, marveling in her painful, strangely sensual trance. Her cries were turning into open sobs again, but she didn't stop. I kneeled next to her and whispered into her ear. "Show me how much you can take." She nodded frantically. "T...touch..." she begged me. I gladly followed her request and put my hand on her abs. They were drenched in sweat, and hotter than stones in the sun. I couldn't dent her six-pack with my fingertips even when I tried to dig my fingers into her muscles. She was still dutifully lifting the weights, inflicting endless soreness on her body. "I will break you now." I said in a low voice. She threw her head back with a scream and shook her head. "Oh god...yes...please! PLEASE!" she screamed. And with that, I stood up again and practically jumped upon my girlfriend's golden abs. She let out an ear-shattering squeak and crunched so hard that I almost fell off. Her cry turned into a high-pitched moan, and I could feel powerful shocks of lust raging through her lower body under my feet. Her abs were turning to stone. Her mind-blowing orgasm pumped more and more strength into them.

My god, she deserved this so much now. She screamed her joy into my ears, as waves and waves of rapture radiated from her lap into every part of her body. It had failed her at last. I jumped off when she started losing control of her body. Her legs gave up first. Her heels dropped, stomping wildly onto the floor. She squirmed and pushed her hip to the ceiling. Her hair was flying around her head. Her fingers were still clasping the metal plate. She was overwhelmed by her own pleasure, moaning like a dying beast. Finally, she rolled onto her side. The twitching of her legs and waist ebbed away. She had fainted, finally ending her torture, and slipped lifelessly onto the floor. And still, her tight, hard abs stood proudly on her midriff, carved by her latest workout like parts of a statue.  I lifted her small body into my arms and carried her into our bed. Carefully placing a kiss in her hot forehead, I whispered: "I love you...my sweet golden girl."