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Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  Just another job?
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Author Topic: Just another job?  (Read 51377 times)

Offline hero141

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Just another job?
« on: November 27, 2020, 02:12:28 pm »
I hope you like this one. Just a start for now. Things may become crazier... Karma is appreciated!

- We expect you to defend our legal rights, Henry. As you know, our company owns an enormous amount of real-estate property all over the world. As head of our legal department you will be responsible to make sure all legal details of our contracts are state-of-the-art. And that it is our company that calls the shots. You will be responsible and held accountable.

Her beautiful dark eyes look straight through me. I shiver, half from feeling intimidated by her powerful demeanor, half from being enthralled by her exotic beauty. This job interview is the last part of a long series of tests, surveys and role-play games so typical for an employee selection process. The previous tests have been boring and quite predictable for someone as experienced as I am. This final meeting--this time not with some employee but with the manager the candidate will have to report to--has been going on for a couple of minutes now and from the moment this woman entered the interview room, I have been insecure. Like a schoolboy in front of the girl he is secretly in love with. Like a subject in front of his master. And I must say, I am not the insecure type: law degree from Yale, some ten years experience in leading positions, well-groomed and well-spoken. But this gorgeous Latina sitting across the large desk plays in a league of her own.

The moment she came into the room where I was supposed to be waiting, my mouth fell open. Literally. I see an amazonian goddess strutting into my direction, sexily swaying her lush hips, the clicking of her stylish ultra-high-heeled stiletto pumps filling the awkward silence. I am mesmerized. I love the confidence of women who dress to impress, but the dress-code of this exotic beauty is more like fantasy material. As she elegantly walks into the room, I can see her big protruding breasts jutting under the tailor-made short trouser suit. And what a suit it is! It is a two-piece thing made of shiny black leather. The shorts are really short, showing off her luscious long, muscular legs and the jacket is clinging to her ample curves. Her clothing combines a formal, business style with a raw, kinky edge. The leather is clinging to her curves like a second skin and has that oily, liquid-like shine to it. The white shirt under the jacket shows an indecent amount of cleavage, the alluring flesh of her tits is glistening, shiny from the oil they have been rubbed in with.

Her suit cannot hide that I am facing a female bodybuilder. And I guess it is not even meant to hide that she is one. And for sure, she lifts heavy. Very heavy. Her phenomenal physique is mostly hidden, but I do not need much imagination to picture her awesome v-taper. The high-waisted shorts accentuate her wasp waist and her impressively curvaceous torso and broad shoulders nicely stretch the elegant jacket to the max. It has one button closed on the front, surely to show off the perfectly melon-sized round shape of her boobs. I can see hard nipples pushing through the shiny leather. The tight jacket also shows the size and definition of her humongous arms hiding under the long sleeves. If the size and definition of her leg muscles are indicative for the muscular development of the rest of her body, this woman sports the physique that would dwarf any pro male bodybuilder. Not only dwarf him, but she would simply humiliate him. Make him look scrawny. Her tear-drop quads and diamond-shaped calves are the epitome of a hypertrophied anatomy, so enticingly feminine yet so muscularly developed it boggles my mind. The ultra-sexy high-heels only enhance the beauty of her bulging legs and make the vascular striations visible with every step she takes. Her deep tan gives away her Latina roots and perfectly matches with her exotic face--the oil covering her alluring flesh makes her leg muscles all shiny and stand out. She oozes sex. Raw, brutal sex. To say I am impressed does not begin to explain how emasculated I am.

- ... I understand. ... It would be my pleasure to serve as the head of the legal department. I have never been more ready for putting up a fight. A legal fight, that is. The courtroom is my arena.

I try to look mature and settled, but I am not. Far from it. She chuckles.

- Mmm, that's good to hear Mr. Rosenberg.

I notice how she checks her iPad and browses the papers that lie before her on the table. Her long razor-sharp nails look more like the claw of a tigress: they are beautifully polished and painted red, a bright and shiny red with little silver and golden adornments nicely worked into them. I have always had a weakness for women who take good care of themselves. I consider it to be a sign of respect, of self-respect too. But her make-up is beyond this kind of respect. It is the kind of make-up you would only see in a photo-shoot for glossy magazines. It is a way to show-off, to flaunt the goods, to tickle the imagination of anyone looking at her. And boy, is my imagination triggered! I try to break the ice somewhat, trying to hide my growing insecurity.

- O, call me Henry, please. I don't like the sound of Mr. Rosenberg.

The busty brunette smiles in genuine approval.

- OK, Henry. I'll be honest with you: your scores from the tests earlier today look excellent. Actually, you score high above the average, a lot better than the other candidates.

O God, that is good news. It is a relief, because I really want this job. It will not only be challenging professionally, this job will be a good step in my career as corporate legal advisor. And now that I have seen my future boss, I genuinely feel happy. I cannot wait to start working for her. The high scores do not really surprise me--I have always scored among the top 5% of my peers. Still, I feel flattered.

- Thanks! Well, it felt like all went pretty well, but you never know how good the competition is, you know.

She smiles mysteriously, showing her perfect teeth--fuck, is there nothing "wrong" about this woman?--and drawing attention to her thick sexy lips. Lips you would want to kiss. Lips you would want to kiss you. I cannot help but imagining her lips around my cock, sucking me dry, giving me the blowjob of my life.

- No, indeed, you don't. But I know how good the competition is, Henry. Or was. I told them the bad news personally. I always have the courtesy to bring bad or happy tidings personally. It's a matter of respect. Even losers deserve some quality time and I personally saw to it that they got what they deserved. Most took it rather badly. Seemed genuinely hurt.

Her eyes look amused, even playfully mischievous, when she talks about the other candidates.

- So, I'm here to tell you the good news personally. I'm Bethany, your boss. Well, if you sign and join our company, that is.

She looks at me again, fluttering her eyelashes, sensually licking her upper lip. Holy cow! My future boss is a fucking bodybuilder! I have always been attracted to muscular women. I simply like the curves, the muscular lines, the diligence and hard work they put into their bodies. The tan, the boobs, the showing-off, the fancy, kinky clothes. Love it! Because of that I have been an avid visitor of the local gym myself--also loving the way lifting weights transformed my sporty body into an athletic temple as well. Well, temple is a bit exaggerated of course. I am nowhere near bodybuilding standards, but let us say I have a toned body, like that of an athlete. But working for this woman, this Bethany, is like a dream come true. Going to work every day and have a chance of bumping into this goddess, this busty powerhouse. Some men would surely give money to be able to do that. She is so hot. Scorchingly hot. And I love her name. Bethany. It is a beautiful name; it is poetic like its bearer. Almost sensual. I immediately take my pen to sign, but I am eager. A bit too eager to her taste--and mine. Fuck, she disdainfully looks into my direction.

- Hehe, that's bad omen for a chief legal advisor. You see beauty and you are blinded already? Leaving aside all rational considerations? That's a sloppy start, Henry. Don't you want to negotiate about your wage?

Indeed, what a bummer. I am just too overwhelmed by her physical appearance, her erotic demeanor and her business-like manners. I try to cover up my mistake. My primary impulse to work for this fit Latina and report to her on a weekly basis indeed has blurred my sharpness. Luckily, I quickly recover.

- Sure, but something tells me you have an offer I cannot refuse.

She grins in satisfaction. Her facial beauty is extraordinary: compared to her, top-models look plain. I have never seen someone as physically attractive as the woman in front of me and I have not even seen her body, which--by the looks of it--must be a true work of art... I have a hard time trying not to stare at her impressive cleavage, the striated ridges of her pecs suddenly rising into this ballooning double-D, the shiny flesh firmly pushing against her white shirt and jacket. My heart is pounding with excitement. When you think you have seen enough feminine beauty or bodybuilding freaks, well, here is the total package!

- Clever ... Yes, it is indeed an offer you cannot refuse. Besides, I'm pretty good at negotiating.

And she wantonly lifts her mighty arm and runs her long-nailed fingers through her long dark hair. My eyes cannot help but register how a monstrously bulbous biceps intimidatingly bulges under her sleeve and stretches the fabric of her suit until it almost rips to shreds. The peaking, flexed muscle nearly bursts out of her jacket! I will be damned if she did not do that on purpose, just to show off that incredible upper arm of hers. Bethany hands me a contract and I immediately notice the amount she intends to pay me. I cannot help but count the zeros twice.

- And that's per month, not per annum, Henry.

I look at her in disbelief. This must be a joke. It is a six zero digit. Per month. I quickly regain my dry sense of humor.

- Let me think about that, Bethany. Give me two days.

The mocking smile on her gorgeous face turns into a sadistic grin as she straightens herself and gets up from behind the desk. She must be built like a fucking tank: the way her awesome muscle mass ripples ominously under her trouser suit. She is huge. Beyond huge! Indeed, her glistening thighs are bigger than my torso, her legs simply ooze power. They remind me of the sleek leg muscles of huge black panthers or trained race horses. It is that kind of power she oozes. I smell her delicate perfume as she slowly and confidently struts and moves behind me. Suddenly I feel her big boobs resting on my shoulders--the delicate touch of her flesh against mine--and the arousing hotness of her breath against my ear.

- You're funny. I'm deadly serious. Let me check one last thing, Henry. I never buy unseen, you know.

I am totally under her spell. I am not completely sure what she means, but I can guess and she cannot be serious! This woman surely does not waste any time. Now I think I know what it must feel like for a female employee to be touched by her male boss: I feel like an object you can dispose of at will, as an individual reduced to flesh, objectified, submitted to someone superior who has the power to judge and to find you lacking. Her hand moves over my chest down my abs to my crotch. Almost instinctively, my hands grab her forearm, and I should not have done that. I notice that my fingers are unable to get a firm grip, because her forearm is just too thick! I feel the the muscular development and anatomic differentiation through her sleeve and I am starting to get worried. This is no normal muscle mass. With arms like that, this woman must be so powerful and strong, she can rip me to shreds without even breaking a sweat. I want to stop her and try to pull her arm away with all the force my both arms give me, but it is like trying to move a truck with your bare hands: there is nothing I can do to stop her.

- Oh, God. ... What are you doing?

I startle at the delicacy of her touch when she grabs my crotch, but also at the insolence of the action. My penis is rock-hard--I just cannot help it. I can hear and feel her mouth turning into a smile.

- What do you think I'm doing, Henry? I'm checking the size of your penis. Mmm, no porn-size. That's a pity. At least, it's hard. Anyway, it'll do. Give me two minutes.

Experienced fingers free my erection from its tight confines, opening up the zipper of my trousers. She has done this before, no doubt. Her movements are so controlled and deliberate, so easy. She gently wraps her strong fingers around my straining cock while licking and playfully biting my earlobes. The sensation is overwhelming, her touch is heavenly. This is a pro: I think she is fingering my glans with her long and ultra-sharp fingernail, her skillful grip holds my throbbing cock at the base, gently massaging my balls, and then stroking it upwards, slowly and delicately. And then she presses back down deep into my swollen balls, keeping her hand firmly around my shaft. I cum with the next jerk, shooting a huge load of semen on the desk and then wetting her hand with a second and third eruption.

- Oops, that's more like two seconds, Henry. You signed your contract with sperm. Does that have a legal base?

I am embarrassed. Suddenly, I feel how the exhaustion of a day full of dreary tests and job interviews takes its toll. Now my extreme sexual arousal has been "channeled", the awkwardness and abnormality of this situation starts to dawn upon me.

- I ... ... I'm ... I'm sorry ... ...

I want to put my pants back on and get back to "normal", but Bethany keeps me in my chair, her busty chest pushing down hard on my shoulders, her hand still fumbling my crotch.

- What are you sorry for, Henry? For having the job? Mmm, I would be more than happy. You'll earn more in a month than most of your colleagues.

- ... No ...

I feel her other arm snaking around my neck, as if she wants to suffocate me, and she makes sure I experience her un-flexed biceps hard against my throat. Then she flexes the monster: the peaking mound of rock-hard muscle digs hard into my neck, until it becomes painful.

- Or for having an average-sized cock? Well, there is nothing we can do about that. At least, not now.

The nail of her index finger tickles my asshole, and teases my scrotum, while my neck is being squeezed in the crook of her arm. Bethany slowly increases the pressure, flexing those freakishly peaking biceps, threatening to break my neck.

- Or for making my hand dirty. Lick it clean, Henry.

The initial playfulness has evolved into a sadistic seriousness, into an atmosphere in which she seems to take pleasure in humiliating me. I have never had to lick sperm, let alone my own, but I do not dare to disobey her and so I lick her hand clean as she presents it to me and pushes it into my mouth.

- Good boy. And look who's back.

Much to my embarrassment and her amusement, my cock gets hard again, slowly tilting its head and rising to the occasion.

- At least some part of you seems to be enjoying this. It's not the biggest part of your body, but what you lack in size you make up in enthusiasm. You want another hand-job? Don't be shy, Henry. I'm quite open-minded when it comes to sex.

Her talented hand grabs my shaft again and very slowly, very sensually massages it into a straining erection again. I gasp in arousal.

- Good to have you on board, Henry. Now, let's see. Don't cum unless I tell you to.

Suddenly her mobile rings. Without interrupting jacking off my cock, she takes the call and I notice how her mood changes again. I have to devote all my attention to not cumming, the level of stimulation induced by this gorgeous big-titted bodybuilder is simply blowing my mind. As suddenly as the situation changed into this unusual interaction, as quickly do things get back to "normal". She gets up, leaves me be, moves back towards her seat around the desk, reassembles her papers and iPad, and barks into her mobile: "If you fail, I'll make you swallow your balls!" I startle at the sudden aggression of her words.

- Sorry, Henry. I have business to attend to. Someone is going to regret he called me. Well, I'm glad we have come to an agreement. Report tomorrow in our main office building. They'll show you around and accompany you to your new office.

And she is off. Sexily swaying her hips and positioning one high-heeled foot far in front of the other--in a full-fledged cat-walk style--she walks away, leaving me behind in total confusion....

--



Offline giantgirl7foot2

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #1 on: November 27, 2020, 04:34:27 pm »
Off to an incredible start!
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Offline slowride10

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #2 on: November 27, 2020, 08:45:56 pm »
I like where this is going please more...karma

Offline jhunter

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #3 on: November 28, 2020, 12:18:13 am »
Interesting. A good start and I look forward to more.

Offline thebaron

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #4 on: November 28, 2020, 05:46:45 am »
He really is doing well he survived the interview. :clap:

Offline szerep

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #5 on: November 28, 2020, 06:33:53 am »
Like the idea of a muscular female boss.

Offline wowser1016

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #6 on: November 28, 2020, 07:08:32 am »
Very nice start! I want a boss like her! K+

Offline WittyKatarina

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #7 on: November 28, 2020, 01:46:00 pm »
Great to see you with a new story! And I hope things do get crazier, with Bethany getting the chance to show off the full spectrum of her physical, mental, and sexual capabilities.

Offline fitgirlfanguy

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #8 on: December 01, 2020, 02:45:51 pm »
A very interesting start.  Lots of differentw ways this could go, looking forward to where it does lead!

Offline hero141

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #9 on: January 19, 2021, 08:06:54 am »
And the story continues... Enjoy! K+ appreciated.  :)

The next day I dress up, putting on one of fancy tailor-made Italian costumes--a gift from one of my previous employers who had contacts in Milan and who wanted us to look cosmopolitan and sophisticated. I have to admit that wearing these expensive Italian suits indeed gives you that business-aura which brings about confidence, a sharpness that you do not get when you are wearing--let us say--shorts or a sweater. I have found that being well-groomed and taking care of yourself attracts the type of women that would normally be out of your league. When I participated in conferences or had meetings abroad I often met these attractive women at the conference or in hotel lounges that blew you away. Usually, this involved some flirting, a good dinner with nice wines and ended up each going their own way. But on some occasions such an encounter would continue in the hotel room and evolve into something more physical... Anyway, I was half hoping to seeing Bethany again, after what happened yesterday. Instead, I am greeted by a handsome young man with strikingly good looks.

- Welcome, M. Rosenberg. I am William and on behalf of the company I offer you a warm welcome. Miss Bethany asked me to prepare a tour through our main building, where most of the offices for the legal department are situated. She excuses herself for not welcoming you in person, but as you can imagine, she has a full schedule.

I hide my disappointment for Bethany's absence, but I half expected this. For someone that high in the chain of command, welcoming a newcomer like me is below her level. So, I quickly get back to business.

- I understand.

William is very nice and introduces me to some members of the management team and guides me like a good host through the building with offices. We stop at spacious corridors, beautiful passages, meeting places and relaxation rooms. They all breathe an air of luxury. No dollar has been spared to create a nice and cozy work environment. What strikes me is the gender ratio of the people working here. I estimate it must be something like 1 man to 10 women, or even more. I ask William if that is company policy.

- Well, ... uhm. ... You're right, M. Rosenberg. The ratio must be something like 1 to 10, but most men work in cleaning, and services, which is in the huge underground facility here. So, up here, among the upper echelons, the ratio must be even higher. The owners of this company very carefully select their employees, both male as well as female. ... ...

He hesitates for a moment, as if he considers whether it is a good idea to continue, to take confidence in me or not. He decides not to. So, I decide to push him somewhat...

- Yes, that's what I noticed. The women here are simply stunning!

And I take the risk of adding:

- Almost as stunning as Bethany herself.

Indeed, another striking feature is that all women I met this morning--and the ones I did not meet but saw walking around--are absolutely gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous: ultra-sexy ebony queens, buxom blondes, sultry brunettes, ravishing redheads, raven-haired Asians. Holy fuck! This is more like the personnel of a top modeling agency. I find nothing wrong with a B or C-cup, but the amount of double-D cups I saw this morning sexily pushing through a shirt, stretching tank tops or simply showing massive cleavage, reminded me that size indeed does matter sometimes... Certainly when it comes to being über-sexy. Mentioning Bethany's name seems to have created an opening with William.

- ... Uhm... That's right. And if I may add: you ain't seen nothing yet.

That sharpens my curiosity and it reminds me of Bethany's intimate actions yesterday.

- How so?

He starts to talk more quietly now. More carefully. Almost in a conspiratorial whisper. We are standing in the corridor of the legal department. My department.

- Well, M. Rosenberg, you are going to find out anyway. And probably rather soon than later. All women working here have been carefully selected, headhunted, and are paid astronomical amounts to work here. As far as I know, they are selected based on three criteria--there may be more, but I'm quite sure about these three, because you can see them immediately.

I look at him in disbelief--he sounds like a professor who is citing a research paper. I look for cues of humor, but there are none. He looks serious about this.

- One, they are gorgeous. Not just beautiful, but drop-dead gorgeous: their facial beauty is amazing, their bodies are stunningly beautiful. Super-model looks and porn-star tits. Two, they are smart. Very smart. IQ's of 130 and higher. And three, they are addicted to lifting weights. Building muscle. Some do Bikini or Wellness, but most do Figure and Physique. Only top-management and owners do hardcore bodybuilding. And I mean truly hardcore. And believe me: they are as strong as they look. These women warm up with dumbbells you and I could not even move, even if we would use both our hands. It is insane!

I interrupt him and quickly ask:

- Like Bethany?

His eyes start to shine. I am not sure whether they shine in awe, in fear, in admiration. Or in anything else.

- You've already met her? In person?

I nod. It was quite the encounter indeed, but little does he know--I guess.

- Then you know what I'm talking about. That body of hers is simply out-of-this-world. You know, M. Rosenberg, the top floor has this huge and luxurious penthouse, which houses a monumental, fully equipped gym. All female employees have badges to go training there and they do so daily. For hours. Men are only allowed there when invited by a female employee.

- That sounds like discrimination to me!

I try to lighten up the conversation a bit, because William suddenly acts seriously, gravely, choosing his words carefully.

- I was invited there once. By Bethany. What I saw there, defied imagination. You would think such jaw-dropping scenes only existed in fantasy books, but in the penthouse I saw all these gorgeous, big titted women working out, half-naked. Thongs and hot-pants seemed to be the dress-code, few women wore tops. If they did, these tops hardly covered anything of their busty chests. And then their bodies! O my God, they were pumped! Their muscular splendor was shiny with sweat and oil that had been used to rub them in with, to make their muscles stand out. And they stood out! Inches of hypertrophied, vascular mass caught my gaze. O, the beauty of it... They arrogantly swaggered around like they owned the place. Parading. Strutting.

Williams starts talking quickly now. As if he has waited for a long time to tell his tale and now finally gets the chance to do it.

- And they were so aggressive. All were accompanied by men like me, colleagues who had been invited to assist them, to help them. I noticed that one misstep, one mistake or one moment these men failed to live up to the expectations of these big titted gym rats and they were kicked or punched. Hard and brutal. You could sometimes hear bones crack. Bethany and her friends were the worst. Rumors go that they are part of a Pentagon top-secret program to create the ultimate soldier, to engineer ruthless killing machines. Well, I don't think it's a rumor. I've seen them in action. O God, I wish I hadn't.

His face turns white, whiter than it already was.

- These huge female bodybuilders did not stop humiliating us. Mocking our lack of strength. Or laughing with our frail white bodies which were no match to their pumped-up physiques. It was when they started to physically tease us, that things got out of hand. It was playful at first, but it soon started to get sexual. When one of us protested when Bethany put her hand into his trousers, she really got aggressive.

I remember Bethany's hand alright.

- O dear. What happened?

He continues in a whisper:

- She jerked off his penis. ... I mean ...

I feel myself starting to blush. It is a pattern. Fuck, this woman is so sexually forward with everyone...

- ... I mean ... She ripped it off. Balls and all. She castrated him with her bare hands!

- Holy fuck, you cannot be serious. ... O my God!

William has that stern look on his face that immediately makes clear he is deadly serious. And when I think about the kinky muscle beast I saw yesterday, there is no reason not to believe him. If her ultra-muscular physique has only a fraction of the power it looks to have, she can crush steel. The ultra-sadistic streak of this femme fatale shocks me and petrifies me: if such a dark mind is combined with a body like hers, Bethany is a monster. A gorgeous monster, but a monster nonetheless. An ultra-sadistic beast. Now I remember her words yesterday, when this guy called her. Something about "swallowing your balls". I wonder if she always punishes her male employees like that? This is sick...

- Yeah, it was shocking to see! And you could tell she enjoyed it. Actually, most women seemed to enjoy it: some took snapshots of the screaming man, others filmed the whole scene on their mobiles. But Bethany was not finished making her point. O God... ... I ... I haven't told this to anyone, but it haunts me. It keeps me awake.

- Go on, William. Go on... Please.

- Well, thanks ... I hope you do take me seriously. ... My words, I mean.

- I do.

- Suddenly Bethany savagely grabbed him by his hair, pulled him up and then she started feeding him his cock and balls... Can you believe that? Of course he did not open his mouth at first, but when she started punching the side of his torso, just below the rib-cage, he squealed in total agony. The pain must have pain excruciating as she time and again hit the unprotected side of his torso, his mouth opening in a primal scream. When he started gagging, because he was naturally repulsed to eating his own body-parts, she threatened to tear off his limbs. So he ate. Swallowed. Chewed. And swallowed again. Bethany mocked him with his small penis. Said he was lucky he was not shaped bigger. When he was finished eating, she ripped off both his arms and legs anyway. Just like that. It was horrific. And all the blood splattering around! She simply used her hands to tear them loose. She did not even have to work hard. The crunchy, squelchy sound of breaking bones, of ripping tendons, of a man pleading for his life while Bethany and her friends roared with laughter will haunt me forever. They got off torturing that man. ... ... It keeps me awake ever since. And if I sleep, I have terrible nightmares. It wrecked me.

"O my God" was all I was able to blurt out. The object of my fantasy turns out to be a psycho-killer. A sado-domme using her muscles to crush men. To snuff them out. I cannot help but being somewhat excited about that. And especially about the fact that she gave me a hand-job. I got a hand-job from such a gorgeous beast.

Suddenly I notice how William startles as he spots someone coming behind me. He looks terrified, shocked, like he has seen a ghost. He whispers.

- I need to talk to you. I've got something. Let's meet tonight. OK? I'll tell you more. We are in danger. Just drive over to my place, 231 East Filmorestreet. 8:30. OK?

- ... uhm ... Yeah, sure... OK.

And then I hear the sultriest of voices, husky, sexy:

- William, report in Meeting Room 5. Any delay will make it worse. Denise is very strict, you know that.

- ... O God ... Miss Aletta ... Not Denise. ... No, please. ...

The woman interrupting our conversation looks absolutely stunning. She towers high above me, wearing these ultra-sexy black ankle boots with long and sharp stiletto high-heels--at least 7 inches! And her one-piece, ridiculously stretched see-through catsuit with leopard-print fits her curves like a second skin. She does not have Bethany's size and bulk, but most figure competitors would envy her muscular development and ... boobs. Holy fuck! What a rack! What. A. Fucking. Rack. Her tits are bolt-on miracles, firm and protruding, huge and arousing. But despite their gravity-defying size, they fit her over-developed torso exceptionally well, perfectly complementing her bulging bodybuilding physique, an impressive v-taper. My eyes stay fixed on her nipples, which are rock-hard and clearly pierced. I see no bra through the body hugging catsuit--who needs a bra with tits like this?

- Like I said, William. Any delay will make it worse.

William seems to be panicking. He starts to shake all over.

- ... God, help me. ... Not Denise. ... O please, Miss Aletta. Tell me it's a joke. You're just scaring the shit out of me, don't you?

He looks for a cue in her beautiful eyes, for a sign she is mocking him, but she is not.

- I'm glad you appreciate my sense of humor, but I saw guys from Security preparing Meeting Room 5 for some action. And by the looks of it, Denise plans some serious action. The paraphernalia they carried in there: madness! Wish I could be there!

And then she adds with a mischievous grin:

- And I saw Denise wearing these long black leather gloves this morning. You must have seen them before, William. All personnel from section C had to report to Meeting Room 5. Makes 53 men. Mmm. Great crowd...

I can see William is petrified, but he seems to obey and hastens himself to what I assume is Meeting Room 5. The gorgeous brunette grins as her eyes follow William's rush with a kind of amusement.

- We won't be seeing William for quite a while.

Then she introduces herself.

- Hi M. Rosenberg. I'm Aletta. I'm your personal secretary. I'm here to make your life comfortable. Your professional life, that is. Hehe!

Fuck, she cannot be serious. Make my life comfortable? How can I concentrate on anything if this muscular sex-bomb, this ultra-fit porn babe walks around in clothes like this? I start looking for a hidden camera--I suspect I am on a show like "Candid camera" where you are framed into a situation that turns out to be a hoax. The thing is that this seems to be really happening.

- Hi Aletta. Nice to meet you. You look stunning!

She wantonly smiles, slowly moving up her hands over her armor-plated, cobble-stone abs, grabbing her protruding breasts and pushing them forward.

- I know, Mr. Rosenberg. I spend a lot of time building this body the way it is. I'm glad you like it.

She turns around, showing off her smooth, firm glutes, beautifully showing through her overstretched catsuit. Like a professional stripper, she lasciviously looks over her broad shoulder and slaps one of her ass cheeks. The firmness of her incredibly sexy round bubble-butt is all too obvious: thousands of heavy squats have molded her ass into a hard and tightly round asset, a ballooning and improbably curvy bottom only equaled by her delectable tits, which expand out from either side of her impressively broad back. They resemble heavenly orbs so large that they are clearly visible from behind.

- Bodybuilding makes my curves stand out, don't you think M. Rosenberg?

The sheer expanse of her muscular back stands in shrill contrast to her impossibly slim wasp-like waist. I see no sign of a thong, unless high-up over her lush hips I see the tiniest of strings beautifully curving and then disappearing between the bulging cheeks of her ass-crack.

- I'm addicted to weight training, but it is only one of my addictions. It gives my body its bulging, intimidating look.

I indeed like the way she looks. She is absolutely gorgeous. I nearly cream my pants. And then the muscle-packed bimbo turns around again and wantonly points at the obvious bulge in my pants. She steps closer and moves the long nail of her index finger along the length of my erect shaft.

- You want me to take care of your penis here? Or you want me to do you in your office?

Again, just like yesterday with Bethany, the insolence of her forward questions shocks me. It is the lightheartedness and seemingly obvious character of "doing" men that intimidates me. They are like sexual predators. Why would they bother asking their prey for permission?  These women just take you, control you. I manage to stammer:

- ... In the office?

- Good choice, M. Rosenberg. It is wise to reserve a place with a little privacy to experience your first intimate confrontation with me. 6 feet 3 and 224 lbs of pumped-up female muscle is all yours to enjoy. It'll do more than blow your mind.

She pushes me into a large and richly decorated office, and closes the door. My God, this woman is simply breath-takingly gorgeous! When she zips open her catsuit, she reveals her impressive cleavage, the sheer size of her huge tits open up the zipper some more, stretching the top of her catsuit to bursting point. It is like her boobs want to escape from the tight prison of her suit.

- Want me to blow it or jerk it, M. Rosenberg? Consider this one of the perks of having me as your personal secretary. As you can imagine I'm quite used to dealing with erections. The guy who had the privilege to oil my tits this morning came six times. And I did not even touch him. Hahaha!

Offline ame3cv62

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #10 on: January 19, 2021, 12:15:45 pm »
Wow such a great story ,looking forward to more
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Offline WittyKatarina

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #11 on: January 19, 2021, 01:37:51 pm »
Great to see a new update! I like the Aletta character, something new, a fitness model type instead of a bodybuilder. I'd like to know her stats like height and weight.

Also, since fitness models are some of the best gymnasts out there, Aletta doing back flips would be very fitting!

Offline WapWap

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #12 on: January 26, 2021, 02:01:03 pm »
Umm, more please!  What a fun scenario.  Please keep going with it.
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Offline wowser1016

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #13 on: January 28, 2021, 06:17:40 am »
Oh yes! Please continue. K+!

Offline nyfiken

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Re: Just another job?
« Reply #14 on: January 28, 2021, 09:36:21 am »
Great stuff so far, cant wait to read any updates.
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Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  Just another job?
 

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