Hey everybody! This is the first half of a new story, and my longest and most involved yet. A quick plot synopsis:
"On a stormy night, bulging babysitter Brittney finds herself stalked by a murderous menace in this slasher flick throwback bursting with big boobs and bigger muscles."
There is a link at the end to a paid DA gallery if you wish to know more. And if not, I hope this is a satisfying read all on its own. Happy holidays everyone!
FINAL CURL
by Mrshhh
Sheets of rain and autumn leaves battered the second floor window of an isolated country home.
In a corner cluttered with tripping hazard toys, a nightlight cast a dim glow across the tight jeans and crop top sweatshirt of beautiful babysitter Brittney.
“I don’t want to go to bed yet!” pale faced Alice declared as Brittney sweetly tucked the covers over her.
“I know, I had fun tonight too, sweetie,” the all-American brunette beamed, curling her generous, gloss-wet lips into a smile. “But your father gave me strict instructions to have you in bed by 9. If he knew I’ve let you stay up this late, he’d never let me come back.”
“None of my babysitters come back,” Alice declared coldly.
“Well maybe it’s because you’re a scamp who doesn’t listen to ‘em?” Brittney teased.
“They didn’t have what it takes. But I already know you’re my favourite,” the skinny girl beamed before peering down the wide scoop neck of Brittney’s trendy sweatshirt. “And you’ve definitely got the best bod.”
Brittney was taken aback by the girl’s comment, and even more surprised when Alice surveyed her broad, muscular shoulders, thick chest, and really eye-ravished the big teenaged boobs tenting her sweatshirt half an arms’ length in front of her.
“Alice you perv!” the babysitter scolded with a nervous laugh. “If that’s the way you talk to people, it’s no wonder your babysitters run for the hills.”
“You’re just so beautiful, Brittney,” the youngster stated. “Your muscles are amazing.”
Brittney’s brow wrinkled with confusion. She’d gotten the sense that the poor girl didn’t receive a lot of attention from her parents. Heck, the whole family was famously reclusive. Maybe what the strange girl needed was a big sister. Or in her case, a REALLY big sister.
Brittney leaned in close and looked supportively into Alice’s eyes. “Listen squirt - before I joined the cheerleading squad, I definitely wasn’t built like this. It took a lot of work to get these muscles.”
“Do the other cheerleaders have big muscles too?”
“Haha, well we all work out together. But I definitely work out the hardest,” Brittney giggled.
“Can you flex, Brittney? I want to see how big your biceps are.”
“Oh come on,” Brittney blushed. “You sound like my boyfriend.”
“Don’t you like to show off? You must love being a hardbody.”
Brittney took a pensive breath, making her chest strain the limits of her sweatshirt. Alice expertly noted how the swell of overstuffed cleavage ballooned from her top, exposing the pink aerobics leotard the babysitter wore beneath. Two rock hard nipples punctuated her chest like oversized corks.
“Okay weirdo - If I flex for you, will you finally go to sleep?” Brittney negotiated.
Alice nodded.
Brittney blew a strand of hair from her face and slowly brought her arm up. She might’ve been an angel-faced college dream girl, but there was a truly beefy bodybuilder shape filling out the shoulders of her sweatshirt.
As she slowly cranked her fist, a baseball-sized bulge inflated her sleeve. The harder she squeezed, the more her sleeve tightened around it like cling wrap.
Alice grinned. “That’s not gonna be enough.”
Brittney laughed. “Are you serious?” But the muscular babysitter couldn’t resist a challenge. She relaxed her arm before powering out an even stronger flex. With a straining grunt that made a vein pop from her forehead, she cranked her arm and a loud tear split her big sleeve open. Alice’s eyes widened at the bulging, veiny softball bicep before her.
“Shoot,” Brittney fumed. “Okay, show’s over. This was my favorite sweatshirt!”
“I’m gonna be the hugest bodybuilder ever one day, Brittney. Bigger than you. Even bigger than my mom!” Alice proclaimed.
Brittney leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I’m sure you will, but even big muscle girls need their beauty rest.”
The babysitter got up and headed to the door. Just then, a deafening thunderclap made Brittney jump. Lightning flashed a second later, turning her jiggling, chesty shape into an erotic silhouette.
Laughter brought her attention back to Alice, who grinned like a devil. “Did the big, strong babysitter turn into a scaredy cat?”
“Pfff. I’m just a little jumpy,” the babysitter reassured. “Now go to sleep.”
She closed the door of the bedroom behind her.
The Krieger family had lived in an old manor home on the edge of town for as long as Brittney could remember. The house had been built in the 20s by the founder of the local logging company, and was surrounded by picturesque forests. It was Brittney’s first time babysitting for the family, and the house was so remote that she’d needed a friend to drop her off.
Now with Alice put to bed, things were eerily quiet. As she walked through the foyer, the storm outside rattled the windows. The front yard tree branches cast craggy, gnarled shadows across the tiled floor. Despite the considerable power her muscles projected, Brittney felt a cold, lingering vulnerability.
The babysitter checked the front door lock one more time, then the deadbolt.
As she walked back through the foyer, the palm of a ghastly white hand smacked against the glass behind her. Brittney did a double take and the shadow of a figure darted out of sight. Cautiously, she approached the window with her fists balled, thick veins bulging across her sinuous forearms. Peering out the window, she spied a Halloween scarecrow propped-up on the front lawn, tossed side to side by the blowing wind. She let out a deep breath and let her tensed muscles relax.
“The kid was right. You are a scaredy cat,” she muttered to herself.
Brittney lay sprawled out on the family room carpet in front of a binder of notes and a dog-eared history book. Prom Night with Jamie Lee Curtis played on a bulky wood panelled TV set behind her, helping drown out the noise of the storm outside.
After a particularly dense chapter, Brittney dropped her pen and let out a frustrated sigh. God she was bored. She adjusted her reading glasses to check the time above the TV.
The movie cut to commercial and a sexy woman with big hair in neon colored workout attire appeared on screen. Brittney paused to watch the ad for a national fitness chain. It cut between the toned & sexy woman and quick shots of muscular bodies pumping weights.
Brittney found her thoughts drifting. She felt her thighs rub together as if someone else were controlling them. She absentmindedly began chewing her lips, enjoying the way the full, fleshy thickness of them filled her mouth.
Slowly, her hand moved across the deeply grooved abdominals that plated her stomach, pulling tightly towards and bulging generously out with each breath. She felt the veins that snaked along her tight belly thicken and bunch into wads as her fingers approached the waist of her jeans and plunged beneath. Stifling a moan, her pulse quickened as she traced the tense, corded musculature between her hips and even pressing against the crotch of her leotard. She was so hard, everywhere.
Her bulging lips were now wet from her own sucking and biting, and her entire mouth was becoming visibly lust swollen. When her fingers found her pussy, it was so wet that she could hear a squelching noise as she pushed against her bulging camel toe.
God - it had taken so little to turn her on. Maybe she was getting too addicted to muscle like her friends had been warning. She could feel her entire body tingling, her physique longing for - DEMANDING a pump. Then an idea struck her.
Pulling her hand out from between her legs, Brittney found her fingers coated with wetness. Thinking about the night ahead, she brought them to her greedy mouth and plunged them between her hot lips.
Brittney appeared in the kitchen and picked the phone up off the wall. A quick dial of a well-practiced number and the voice of Brittney’s football player boyfriend, Lance, answered.
“Guess where your dream girl is?” Brittney asked as playfully as she could with her noticeably anabolic-deep voice.
“Hmmm, I’m gonna go with: babysitting some spoil brat? Like every single Saturday night ever?” Lance replied without an attempt to conceal his vitriol.
“The brat, as you so eloquently put it, is asleep. And your dreamboat of a girlfriend is all alone in this big, empty house…” Brittney teased, curling the phone cord around her fingers. “How about you come over and keep me company?”
“Aw shucks Brit…” Lance groused. “I already told Chet & Meadow that I’d go to Rosenstein’s Halloween party.”
“Rosenstein…?” Brittney pouted, quite surprised. “You’d rather go to that dweeb’s party than spend time with me?”
“Um - drunk babes in slutty Halloween costumes?”
Brittney huffed and squeezed tension through her shoulders. Her sweatshirt groaned as she thickened unnaturally. “God, you suck Lance. Fine. Go join your slutty drunk sluts. I’ll go get a little workout in. For some reason I feel like pumping up hard tonight - getting all veiny and swollen. I just get so carried away sometimes. Probably won’t stop until I’m totally jacked – totally super freaky. I guess I’ll be sweating and grunting all by myself with no one to… relieve the tension.”
The line went suddenly silent.
“Lance?” Brittney asked, unsure if he’d cut out.
“I’ll be there in 30 minutes!” He answered out of breath.
Heavy breathing signalled the presence of a figure outside. Rain pelted their shape as they watched Brittney from the darkness through a nearby window.
The pretty girl hung up the phone and left the kitchen, turning off the lights.
The figure tromped through muddy flowerbeds along the side of the house before coming upon another window. Within, Brittney passed by and the figure admired her immensely broad shoulders and dramatic taper to a tight waist. She had no hips to speak of - but despite her boyish butt, her glutes swayed with feline grace as she walked. Brittney returned to the living room, anxiously running her hands along her acid-washed jeans. She spied her schoolwork on the floor. The fuse was lit, and she knew that there was no going back to studying tonight. Even now, she savored the way her meaty quads rippled beneath her touch. Passing a mirror, she was taken by how the dim orange-hued lamps intensified her beach body tan.
The presence outside watched Brittney vamp it up for a moment, tussling her big curly hair and enjoying the sensual shine of her melted-bronze skin. She playfully shifted her straight hips, clenching her glutes and playing peekaboo with her 6-pack. Even the mere flashes of muscle made the watcher’s breathing quicken. Her abs weren’t merely cut – they were shredded and sick. The torn sweatshirt slung loosely over one meaty shoulder couldn’t obscure the strange, distinctly unfeminine brawn of her beefy neck and back. She was the most muscular one yet. Her body would be the ultimate test. Brittney explored a cluster of picture frames next to the mirror. She bent down and found images of Alice smiling in various settings. The tall, stern-faced presence of Mister Krieger appeared in a few scattered photos, always holding Alice’s shoulders stiffly. Oddly, her mother’s presence was noticeably absent.
Nearby, Brittney came upon a shelf of books and video tapes. A few volumes of aerobics cassettes caught her eye and she thought about the imagery she’d teased Lance with. It’d be fun to greet him with her muscles all sweaty, she thought. The very notion made her chew on her preposterously thick lips, and she snatched a tape.
Popping it into the Krieger’s VHS machine, Brittney pushed a large coffee table aside and unbuttoned her jeans. She peeled them off, revealing the kinky thong bottom half of her leotard. Despite her reputation as a goody two shoes, working out somehow emboldened Brittney to dress like a bimbo. This outfit was her favorite, with the hips of the leotard cut so high that only a strip of fabric continued down past her belly button. It left the supple skin between her hips almost fully exposed as the merest half inch of fabric cupped her thick pussy lips. An outfit like this demanded serious landscaping, and Brittney loved how it flaunted the Brazilian wax job her and Meadow had gotten.
With her pants off, her thickly supple quads rippled beneath wax-paper skin. Branches of puffy vascularity crawled across rolling hills like no other teenager she knew. Every inch of her thighs were hard-cut, with seemingly infinite notches and cuts detailing each individual muscle. The unreal conditioning continued through her hips, and her vascularity intensified around her puffy crotch. This excited Brittney more than anything else, and she had trained savagely to get her veins to bulge as thickly as possible in her most delicate of places.
Before she knew it, Brittney was ten minutes of sweat-soaked burn into the workout tape. She precisely mimicked everything the instructor did, from leg raises to lunges, and upped her intensity with each new position. Twenty minutes later, the tape had ended, but Brittney flipped herself over and started a set of rapid-fire pushups. She tried to keep her voice down – she didn’t want to wake Alice - but her breathing quickened and an acid-pumping agony forced deep-throated moans from her. She was somewhere over 100 reps when she caught sight of a clock on the wall. It was after eleven? She finally gave herself a break to catch her breath and let the rivers of perspiration roll down her skin.
Where the heck was Lance?
Headlights tore through the veil of night as a rusted Honda barrelled down a dirt service road.
Between the noises of loose stones clanking against rocker panels and the stressful whir of wiper blades working overtime, football jock Lance could hardly hear his friends.
“Dude, what am I looking for already?”
Jammed into the small car with him were 3 party-hearty college friends. Laid back stoner Benny fumbled with a road map in the passenger seat. “It’s like a service road man,” he explained. “They don’t have names like people do.”
Lance rolled his eyes. In the back seat, thick-necked linebacker Chet was busy motor-boating his girlfriend Meadow’s tight pec cleavage. The super fit cheerleader giggled and chimed into the conversation. “Look for the mailbox, Lance.”
Lance nodded in surprised agreement. “That is amazingly sensible, Meadow. What made you think of that?”
“Cause Chet smashed it with a bat the last time we partied out here,” the sexpot answered. Lance adjusted his rear view mirror, hoping to steal a glance of Meadow’s striated chest, but was quickly caught by her pretty eyes. “And keep your eyes on the curves OUTSIDE, Lance,” Meadow playfully scolded.
Benny craned his head as they sped by a classic red mail box. “Passed it.”
Lance slammed the breaks and everyone was thrown forward. “The booze dude!” Chet spat, fumbling to recover a bottle of rum that had flown out of his hands.
“Champion rally team, the lot of you!” Lance yelled as he put the car in reverse. An instant later, the engine sputtered and died. “Aw no. Damn it!”
“How much did you overpay for this hunk of junk again?” Chet laughed.
Lance held the key turned and pumped the gas. The engine whined like the Millennium Falcon.
“I don’t wanna walk in the rain Lance. I spent an hour on my makeup!” Meadow pleaded.
Chet pushed the key harder and pumped the gas few more times. “No one’s walking in the rain. Come on…”
While Benny struggled to fold his map, he noticed a massive, hulking figure standing watch against the moonlit mist. “Some big dude’s watching us.”
“Oh shoot, my nipples popped out,” Meadow announced
Everyone swivelled their heads to the back seat, ignoring Benny. Meadow gingerly pulled her too-tight shirt up over her breast-less slabs of chest muscle.
“Baby, those are for my eyes only!” Chet whined.
Benny’s gaze returned to the mist outside, but found the monstrous figure gone.
“Ha!!” Lance exclaimed as the engine finally turned over. He backed the car up and swerved it around. The headlights caught the Krieger’s mailbox. “Brittney baby, get that hot bod a’bulging – ‘cause papa’s got a hard-on.”
The car sped off towards the Krieger’s houselights deep in the rainy darkness.
Brittney returned to the kitchen still panting from her workout. A slick layer of sweat still coated her perfect skin, giving her an oiled-up appearance that she knew drove Lance wild. Her thighs and calves had a juicy pump that pushed all her veins out and deepened every striation in her lean muscles.
She opened the fridge and took a Bionic Woman lunch box she’d left there. In a cupboard beside her, she found a big water glass and scooped several helpings of powered protein mix from a jar. She put the extra powder back in the lunch box beside a set of syringes and a vial of HGH.
As Brittney hungrily gulped down the thick shake, she noticed a glint of water on the tiled floor. She carefully placed the glass down and looked closer. It was like someone had climbed out of the shower and walked across the floor.
Then there was sharp clank nearby.
Fingers curled around the handle of a kitchen knife and unsheathed it. Clutching it tight enough to make veins snarl across her knuckles, Brittney followed the trail of water.
Creeping between moonlit shadows, the gorgeous babysitter felt her pulse quicken. Her strong heart pumped a cocktail of teenaged hormones and steroids through her veins like a pharmacy.
Each step clenched her meaty quads sending shockwaves of definition through them. Her steel hard ass was coiled tight, turning it into two balls of ripped sinew bisected by her thong.
The trail led to a door in the center of the house. Brittney reached out and opened it with a long creaking noise that felt like nails on a chalkboard. She was faced with a set of stairs into the basement. She tightened her grip on the knife and the sleeves of her sweatshirt groaned against her bulging biceps.
Each step made the wooden stairs strain as she descended into darkness.
She knew she was at the bottom when the floor turned to cold concrete beneath her bare feet. She reached out blindly, searching for a light switch when her hand touched something warm – something breathing.
A SHRIEK sent a cat clawing and scratching. Brittney fought with it and threw it off. The animal scampered upstairs and Brittney tried to regain her breath. She backed up into the wall and felt a light panel jab into her. There was a sense of relief as she turned it on. Overhead tubes flickered to life.
Bright gold glittered, momentarily blinding her. As her eyes adjusted, the babysitter faced a towering collection of bodybuilding trophies and pictures assembled into some kind of muscle-worship altar. There were dozens of glittering 1st prize monuments, seemingly won from professional competitions across the country. Hanging from them were Olympian medal ribbons, but curiously the medals had been clipped off. Stranger still were the pictures framed on the wall - all featuring Mr. Krieger accompanied by one awesomely built bodybuilder woman after another – but in each frame the glass had been smashed above her face. It was as if their identities had been viciously erased. “What the hell is all this..?” Brittney mumbled.
Beyond the freaky monument, Brittney spied a small window wedged open. Rain from the storm ran down the inside wall and pooled on the floor. “I guess that’s how the furball got in,” she concluded, breathing a sigh of relief. Then she noticed something else.
Looming in the deep shadows was an ominous steel door. It looked like something from an old prison. Large hinges were riveted into the concrete wall. At the center was a massive set of iron deadbolts – and they were unlocked.
Brittney’s heartbeat picked up tempo. She couldn’t resist her curiosity and approached the door slowly. Prying the steel hinge open, she peered inside and her wide eyes filled with the reflection of dull metal grey.
Brittney seemed suddenly hypnotized by what she saw. She was overcome by a sense of awe and simmering sensuality. Her lips parted unconsciously and she licked her tongue across her wet mouth. Her legs pressed together sensuously and ground her pussy against the unyielding rock of her thighs.
An obnoxious honking car horn startled the jumpy girl out of her reverie. She cursed the noise for nearly giving her a heart attack. That had to be Lance.
Brittney dashed back upstairs and through the foyer. She saw the headlights of Lance’s car out front and unlocked the front door.
Waving her arms above her, she shouted to the car.
“Stop honking you jerk!”
The headlights switched off and everyone emerged from the doors.
“Your white knight has arrived baby!” Lance boasted, full of varsity swagger.
The rowdy party crew stomped through the front door tracking water inside. Chet and Meadow were already trading swigs of rum and getting handsy with each other. Brittney followed behind like a chaperone.
“Could you keep it down to a roar please? There’s a girl asleep upstairs.”
“You sound like my mom,” Chet groaned.
“A pumped as fuck muscle mom,” Benny added through a big joint stuffed between his lips. He soaked up the shape of Brittney’s ultra-beefy traps stretching out her sweatshirt to the max. “I know you cheerleaders work out, but what the fuck Brit?”
“Girl’s a total stud, right?” Meadow commented with a playful wink to her friend. “No matter how much weight I sling, I can’t keep up with her.”
“Hey - you’re one hard hunk of pep squad muscle, babe,” Chet confirmed with a pinch of Meadow’s chiseled ass. She giggled playfully and tensed her glutes into thickly-muscled concrete.
“You girls keep cranking iron this hard, you won’t be cheering the football team - you’ll be the football team,” Benny snorted.
Brittney caught up to Lance and took his arm in her much larger one. “Lance, what on Earth made you bring everyone here?” She whispered in his ear. “I thought we were, you know… going to have some private time.”
Lance felt the babysitter push her body against his. The hardness of her overdeveloped muscles deliciously contrasted her big, body hugging boobs. She must’ve been turned on like crazy because her nipples threatened to puncture his spleen.
“Geez - you are so revved up tonight, Brit!”
“Uh-huh. And wait until you see what’s in the basement…” she added, her voice deepening an octave as her overstimulated body pumped hot bodybuilder hormones.
Lance felt pillowy lips suck on his ear. Warm breath brushed his face before Brittney peeled herself off of him. He watched the babysitter saunter ahead, looking back with wet eyes and curling her finger to follow.
“Fuckkkkk…” he moaned at the sight of her arrow-straight hips and alien shredded muscle ass carrying the wide, heavy shoulders of a full-blown pro bodybuilder. To his astonishment, her pussy lips absolutely bulged out of her thong like rising bread. He watched a string of liquid catch the light and hit the floor only to realize that she was leaving a path of girl juice behind her.
Brittney led Lance down the creaky basement stairs.
“So is there like a king-sized waterbed down here or something?”
“Better…” Brittney teased.
Arriving in the dungeon-like cellar, the jock’s attention was met by the dozens of golden trophies and pictures. He was stunned by the twisted bodybuilding worship orgy. “You seen this Brit? This is some freaky shit.”
KA-CHUNK.
Lance looked beyond the altar and found Brittney pushing the big deadbolt aside and pulling open the steel door. “Um – you sure you should be opening that?”
Benny walked through the family room patting down his pockets for a light. He spied a box of long fireplace matches atop the mantel.
Meadow popped her favorite cassette in a stereo and crank the volume knob. She danced back to Chet and pushed the big linebacker onto the couch. Sashaying her straight, shoulder length hair to the rock track, she firmly planted her foot between his legs. “In the mood for a show big boy?”
Benny struck the 10 inch long match stick and lit up his 10 inch long joint. He tossed the match into the fireplace, igniting some carefully laid kindling. He took a seat in a buttoned leather smoking chair like a gilded age steel baron.
“I say, I could really do with a snifter of brandy to complement this Maui Wowie.”
Lance followed an excited Brittney through the door.
“Look at it Lance…!” Brittney giggled anxiously. “Have you ever seen anything like it?!”
In a large concrete room sat the most hardcore gym either of them had ever laid eyes on. It looked like Gold’s Gym for the incredible Hulk. Every single weight and machine appeared to be custom built for a 350 pound muscle monster.
Brittney seemed drawn to the hyper pro-level equipment like a moth to a flame. Running her hands along the rough surface of a central weight stack, she felt an electric charge run through her body. “Unnnnnn, they’re so hard.”
She lifted a leg up high and straddled a racked barbell. “Imagine how jacked I could get with these…” Brittney cooed, looking into Lances’ eyes. She quietly licked her fat, painfully swollen lips. “Bet you’d barely last a minute once I started grunting out reps like an animal.”
Lance felt his temperature rising. He watched with a dry mouth as Brittney slid herself along the barbell, wetting the length of it so much that strings of juice were left dripping off. She swung her leg over the other side and drops of wetness flung towards Lance’s feet. “Holy shit Brit…” The quarterback stuttered.
Brittney grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Tossing it aside, she revealed the rest of the hot-pink leotard beneath absolutely stuffed with hardcore muscle.
Lance’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. Only now did he realize how many babysitting weekends had kept them apart - pages of a calendar that had dropped away while he’d carelessly partied his freshman year away. But Brittney hadn’t wasted a moment. She’d been a muscle-packed knockout since they first met, but almost an entire school year spent laser focused on her physique - ravenous to pump iron during every spare moment on a hormone-charged vision quest had transformed her into a hunky-huge girl-beast supreme.
Meadow stepped up onto a coffee table in the center of the room and turned her back to the boys. Benny watched glassy-eyed through a cloud of weed smoke while Meadow shimmied her skirt down past her hips and kicked it off. Chet applauded the super-fit cheerleader ass presented to him. If it hadn’t been for Brittney, Meadow would’ve been the hardest body in school. What were they putting in the water that made all the cheerleaders in town musclebound girl studs?
Meadow turned slowly, giving everyone a 360 eyeful of her weight-trained curves. Her skimpy G-string was pulled over hips that were carved out of steel, and a bubble butt that was pure muscle meat.
Unscrewing the rum bottle, she tossed the cap away and lifted her arm high. A cascade of booze poured down her flat, boyish chest and washed beneath her thin top, turning it transparent. The wet material sucked to a set of inch thick pecs that put the football jocks to shame. Honestly - Chet often wondered if his sexed up girlfriend had a better physique than he did.
Meadow tossed the bottle away and pinched her nipples. She gasped and they thickened so dramatically that they seemed like they could burst through the wet cotton.
Bending over to blow Chet a kiss, she wiggled and flexed her glutes so hard that striations strummed like guitar strings for Benny. Then she traded places and cranked out a most muscular for Benny while Chet got her butt to himself. Her libido kicked into high gear and her tiny panties were slowly sucked into her rapidly swelling pussy. She cranked her flex harder and bulging deltoid heads surging with veiny ferocity for the stoner. Behind her, Chet reached out for her shredded glutes like ET phoning home.
Lance couldn’t believe the sight of the pretty cheerleader Hercules. A stump-thick neck and over-developed traps lead to a set of capped, shredded shoulders that gave Brittney football pad thickness. The girl was huge, thick and hard as fuck. But all that mass came at absolutely no cost to her conditioning. The level of dry-shredded definition carved into every one of Brittney’s muscles was totally mental. Her chest was plated with two thick pecs and a dozen deep striations spread across their continental span. Her cuts were so intense that tension bled painfully into her breasts as if her muscles and tits were at war with each other.
“I want to lift for you so bad, Lance. Push me. Wreck me. Make me into your bulging bull,” Brittney begged.
Lance couldn’t believe what he was hearing, or seeing. The two incredible stripper tits that clung to the outer edges of Brittney’s generously curved under-pec seemed like reserve tanks of estrogen installed on a testosterone factory. Her problem of too much tit and not enough skin was further amplified by a stubborn rejection of body fat, and created breasts so explosive and vascular-textured that they almost resembled muscles themselves.
A pink manicured nail tapped a set of dumbbells laid out on a rack. “I’ve never done anything heavier than 60 pounds for reps,” Brittney admitted. Her pretty nails scraped long the rough surface of an even bigger weight. “And I’ve never even picked up dumbbells heavier than 70.” She stopped on a set of 80 pound monsters. “These look so big that it scares me. I can feel my heart racing just touching them. But if you tell me to pump these monsters, I won’t stop.”
Lance swallowed hard. “N-no. The 100s.”
Brittney moaned sharply and a shot of frothy thick girl juice bubbled from the bottom of her leotard.
She wrapped her small hands around the truly colossal dumbbells and grunted determinedly. It took an incredible effort to lift them off the rack. Just holding them at her sides made gnarly huge veins erupt along from her pumpkin shoulders. She seemed to thicken out before his eyes and whatever feminine softness she possessed was brutally overwhelmed.
Benny drew a big lungful of weed and coughed out an observation. “Where’d Lance and Brittney go?”
“He’s probably neck deep in her double-Ds,” Meadow answered, before stepping off the coffee table. She leaned over and whispered seductively into Chet’s ear. “… And they have the right idea.”
“Aw yeah baby…” Chet drooled. “Time to check into a room.”
The big jock scooped up Meadow in his arms and slung her over his shoulder like a Viking war prize. She giggled and kicked her feet as he stomped away in search of the upstairs.
A fuse box opened. Accompanying a standard assortment of breakers was a custom built kill switch. A wet, gloved hand wrapped around the handle and pressed it down.If you like what you read and want to check out the full 23 page version, you'll find a premium gallery on my Deviant Art page here:
https://www.d********t.com/mr-shhh/art/FINAL-CURL-full-version-901973921
For $7, you'll get:
-Final Curl (complete story, 23 pages)
-Cover image (by Michesan)
-Alternate covers (2)
-Bonus art (by Tourist and Devverus)
Hope you're willing to give this little experiment into longer, crazier paid content a shot. If not, pop by my DA page and check out the neat cover that artist Michesan did for the story, for free.
