Off Kilter

[taoschild]

The current novel I'm writing is a steamy romance and it kind of led me to a quick hitter. If people like this I'll finish this one before my novel. If not, I'm having fun with it so maybe I'll come back to it in the future:
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Who is this man?

His fingers curl around my proud biceps greedily, and my core ignites, moisture swimming between my thighs. He wants me. He craves a bite of the fruits of my muscularity but holds his need at bay with a discipline I can’t fathom.

My pulse hammers at the thought of fighting with him, wrestling and fucking in a tangle of muscular sweat-slickened limbs. His kisses feed my hunger stoking the ache to strip out of my flimsy clothes and melt beneath his touch, his mouth, and most of all his thrusts.

“Only when you beg will I consider it,” he says as if reading my thoughts. My insides thrum with his velvety cadence that sends a shiver galloping through my body.

Where did he come from?

He walked into my life like a force of nature, the new owner of the gym, a place that had been my kingdom. When I saw him I virtually licked my lips confidently knowing that he would be my next conquest. But now the tables have turned and he is the hunter and I am the prey—  saying it's a role that I’m unaccustomed to would be a colossal understatement. But now, before him, the idea of being rendered vulnerable has become both exhilarating and terrifying.

His dominance is undeniable, a magnetic force pulling me into his orbit. It awakens a deep-seated longing within me. His pull is a complete shift from the usual adulation and submission I demand and receive. How can I possibly resist?

He’s beautiful in a way that should be forbidden. His dark complexion, chiseled jawline, and smoking glare snare me with an effortless glance, but it’s the hard lines of his legs, the cut of his toned thighs, the noticeable bulge of his groin, and the width of his chest that make my breath catch. Oh, he wants to fuck me, but it will be on his terms at his speed.

“If you’re a good little girl,” he chides, his tone hard and confident, “I’ll give you my cock.”

“Little?” I repeat the word as if it’s utterly foreign in my mouth. My brain rejects the notion as if I were struck by an ice pick through my temple. Images of my hard work and suffering to build my titanic physique flood my brain to emphasize the rejection: needles, reps, curls, sweat, and struggle. All the things that have helped build my body into mountainous swells of warm hard muscles cut by deep ridges of striations.

I’ve poured my life into building my physique. Powerful muscles dominate my frame, rippling and tightening as if they have their own will. Every day, every rep, and every drop of sweat has demonstrated my dedication. I’ve pushed through pain and exhaustion to build this temple of power. I’ve become a hulking mass of sculpted muscle. Every inch of me, from my thick, powerful thighs to my massive, rock-solid calves, shows strength and power. I am a champion bodybuilder and my body is a work of art. Men grovel before me for a chance to take pictures with me. They are subjects as they should be. But now, my thickly muscled arms are no match for his steely grip and his gaze snares me entirely.

His dominant caress sends a jolt of excitement through me. I can feel his hunger but I can’t use it against him. He is the one controlling the proceedings. The arbiter of my desire and the master of this intoxicating power play. And here I am, this titan of muscle suddenly knocked completely off kilter by him.

Why does he control me?

He owns the value of restraint. In his presence, I’m like a child impatient and needy. He draws out the anticipation until I am on the brink of surrender. He commands the game. He understands that true power lies not just in muscle but in the mind, in the ability to control and dominate with a mere glance or a single, well-placed word.
In this dance of dominance and submission, he is the maestro, orchestrating every move with precision. And as much as I am accustomed to being in control, to wielding my strength and power, there is something profoundly alluring about yielding to him, about letting go. But I fight it.

He stands before me, a perfect balance of power and control, his presence overwhelming. His eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a strange mixture of defiance and desire. I want to fight him, to prove my strength, yet I also crave his touch, his dominance. It’s a paradox that I can’t reconcile and it drives me wild.

“I’m hands-on,” he says, stepping closer. His fingers trail from my arm down to my hips, tracing the contours of my muscles. Shuddering warmth shoots through me and I can’t suppress the shiver that follows.

My insides quiver as his touch lingers, and I feel my resolve weakening. This man, with his force of will and undeniable presence, has a hold over me that I can’t break. He knows it too, the glint in his eyes revealing his awareness of the power he has over me.

“Prove to me that you deserve it." Even his raspy whisper is like an irresistible command. “Beg,” he finishes.

Pride and lust wage war within me. Begging goes against everything I’ve built myself to be, yet the need burning inside me is undeniable. My body yearns for him, craving the release only he can provide.

“I won’t,” I manage to whisper, my face wincing. I’m not some skinny bunny without will.  I’m, strong, symmetrical, sensual, and stunning. My words and even my self-talk I know are a lie. The way he looks at me, the promise of pleasure in his eyes, is too much to resist.

He steps even closer, his breath hot against my ear. “You will,” he murmurs. “And when you do, I’ll give you everything you desire.”

My knees buckle and I fight to remain standing, the wetness between my legs become a flood. His words send powerful shockwaves through me and I feel my resistance crumbling. I’ve always been the one in control, the one who commands attention and respect. But with him, it’s different. With him, I want to surrender.

His hands move to my waist, and he pulls me against him. The hardness of his body against mine is intoxicating, and I can’t help but arch into him, seeking more of his touch. Our spines curve together as he waits patiently for my iron will to collapse completely.

[UnholyDk1103]

Your story's beginning is absolutely captivating. It drew me in right away, and I can't wait to see where it goes from here. Great job!

[Momol]

Damn absolute magnificent 

[Wookey]

This is magnificent.  Please continue K++++

[taoschild]

Still working on the what but here is a bit more...
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“Please,” I squeak, the word slipping out before I can stop it. It’s a plea, a surrender, and it feels both liberating and terrifying.

“What? I’m not sure I heard that,” he says, as he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “Tell me what you want.” His voice is like a velvet caress that makes my skin tingle.

The fucker. He’s forcing me to repeat it. I won't. “Please fuck me” my lips plead and my hips sing destroying shattering any remnants of my pride.

A triumphant grin curves his lips, and he captures my mouth in a searing kiss. His hands roam my body, exploring every inch of my muscular frame, and I shudder with desire.

I am his. Completely and utterly his. And as he lifts me, carrying me to the bed, I know that this is what I’ve been craving with my whole being. My hunger for him pulses hot and raw between my legs. It’s not just the hunger for physical release, but the desire to submit. I finally surrender to someone who can match my strength and bests my will.

What?

He tosses me onto the bed like a conquest and gazes at me. I can see the thrill in his eyes, the way they flicker with a mixture of awe and desire as he takes in the full measure of my physique. I know what he sees—and for a second my eyes followed his gaze. My physique is a seamless blend of feminine curves and raw power with muscles that ripple beneath my skin at the slightest movement.

I flex my huge bicep, watching the muscle bulge beneath my skin. The muscle bulges like a mountain beneath the surface, veins coursing over it like rivers, feeding the sheer power that lies within. A knowing grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. For a moment his leering gaze stabilizes my crumbling bravado. It’s not bragging to say that I possess both the power and allure, unlike any other woman he has ever known.
His eyes darken with lust and admiration as he takes in my feminine yet muscular form. “You are magnificent,” he growls in a possessive fashion that sends shivers down my spine.

I want to retort, to say something sharp and witty, but the words die on my lips as he leans in and his hands begin their relentless exploration. His touch is electrifying. His fingers know exactly where to apply pressure, where to tease, and where to make me yearn for more. He plays me like a finely tuned instrument, each touch bringing me closer to the edge of madness.

“Fuck me,” I whisper again, my voice trembling with a mix of desperation and anticipation. “Please.”

A wicked smile spreads across his face. “Anticipation builds arousal,” he says maddeningly. It’s not enough. My need is too great to be subdued by his cool commands. A twitch of my usual dominance floods my brain. I grasp him and roll him over before he realizes what’s happening.

Roughly, I straddle him. His eyes widen in surprise as I press his legs up over his shoulders and with brute force pin his arms at the same time. The veins in my forearms pulse and my biceps bulge as I hold him in place. My practiced move results in his powerful nude frame surprised and helpless.

"Now look who's calling the shots," I grin, as my piston-like glutes prepare to capture and use his giant cock. There’s an electrifying thrill in knowing that I can harness this giant and use his size and strength for my pleasure. My thighs tense as I hold myself just inches above his massive cock, my glutes flexing like pistons ready to drive me down. I’m wet and needy, my arousal undeniable as it drips from me, a glistening dew that clings to my inner thighs and drips onto his cock as it strains upward, aching to be taken.

I begin to lower myself, savoring every agonizing second as I inch closer to him. My muscles ripple, every sinew in my body tightening as I prepare to take him in, to claim what I’ve conquered.

[Wookey]

Wonderful turnabout K++++++

[UnholyDk1103]

Excellent story so far.

[taoschild]

I'm wrapped up in another story but I'm almost finished with this one. Here is the 2nd to last section...

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But before I know it, my mighty arms are trembling. The angry purple vein that fights the weight in the gym has already popped to the surface. It snakes from my shoulder, over the mountainous peaks as he starts to push back. I can feel his muscles pushing back, testing my strength and impossibly besting me. The battle between us is intense: his driven by the desire to dominate mine by my intense need.
"Oh, no no. We won't have that," his velvety voice says, completely unperturbed by his momentary lapse. The master is in control.

He moves with a speed and strength that catches me off guard, shifting his weight effortlessly to break free of my hold. In an instant, he flips me onto my back, reasserting his dominance. I’m pinned before I know it staring into his eyes that are alight with a mixture of amusement and challenge.

“Nice try,” he murmurs, leaning in to nip at my earlobe, sending a shiver of pleasure through me. “But you’re not in charge here.”

He knows exactly how to play me, how to turn my strength into vulnerability. His touch transforms from teasing to possessive, and I realize that he knows exactly how to turn my strength into vulnerability. He positions himself above me, his body a perfect blend of hard muscle and raw power. The weight of him pressing down on me, the heat of his skin against mine, is intoxicating,
I surrender completely, my resolve crumbling as the desperation builds within me. My pride, my strength, everything that usually defines me, fades into the background. I’ll do anything if he will just plunge inside me. “Please,” I beg, my voice too high to be natural.

I arch my back, pressing myself closer to him, needing to feel every inch of him against me. Yet, for another agonizing moment, he holds back, teasing me with the promise of pleasure just out of reach. My wet, needy core clenches around nothing, desperate for the fullness only he can provide. His fingers trace a path down my spine, lingering at the small of my back, sending shivers of anticipation through me.
“You want me,” he murmurs in a husky whisper that makes my pulse race. “After your little display, I need to hear you say it one more time..”

“Yes,” I breathe, my resistance shattered and my voice trembling with need. “I want you. I need you.”

A dark, satisfied smile curves his lips as he captures my mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue invades my mouth and plants its flag of victory with possessive intensity. His hands glide over my body admiring the muscles it’s taken me a decade to build. Each touch ignites sparks of desire that ripple through me, making me ache with longing. He pulls back slightly, his gaze locking onto mine, a storm of lust and control swirling in his eyes.

“Good,” he growls, his voice a velvet promise that sends shivers down my spine. “Because I’m going to take you apart piece by piece, and when I’m done, you’ll never want anyone else.”

Before I can think to respond he flips me onto my stomach with a swift, forceful movement that takes my breath away. I grunt. His strong hands grip my hips, lifting me into position as if I weigh nothing. The anticipation is almost unbearable. My body tenses in readiness for what I know is coming. It’s what I need– what I crave– everything.

[Wookey]

What an amazing story K++++ well written

[UnholyDk1103]

Hi, can you already give us more information about what your novel will be about? If I understood you correctly, it's about a different character than in this story

[taoschild]

Hey Unholy. Thanks for the praise. The new book is going to be a romance between a college guy and a woman he meets in a muscle worship session.  The rough draft is finished but now its with the editor.

[taoschild]

Here is the conclusion (I think).
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With a slow, deliberate thrust, he enters me, filling the emptiness that had been torturing me just moments before. The sensation is raw, powerful, and overwhelming, stealing the air from my lungs. The sensation is raw and powerful. I gasp and moan. He drives into me with a rhythm that is both demanding and intoxicating. Heat swims through me like a pod of dolphins– fluid and wild, surging through every vein. The pleasure is all-consuming.

My fingers claw at the sheets, my body trembling under the force of his possession. He leans over me, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “You feel that?  That’s what it feels to be mine. Completely and utterly mine.”

“Yes,” I cry out, the words spilling through my lips without thought. “I’m yours.”

The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending ignited by the raw intensity of his possession. What begins as a slow, deliberate taking soon turns rough and possessive, his thrusts growing more powerful, more demanding. He’s claiming me in every sense of the word. I succumb. The pleasure drives all rational thought from my mind. It’s like nothing I ever imagined, a force of nature that consumes me entirely.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he murmurs in a husky whisper that makes my pulse race. “So tight, so perfect.” Every inch of his body presses against mine. The weight. The power. It’s almost too much.

Beneath him, I am a powerful mass of muscle and strength. His hands roam over my body, tracing the swells of muscle of my back—prodding, squeezing, owning me. His touch is reverent, almost worshipful but there’s an undeniable hunger in his movements. It’s as if he needs to dominate the very strength he admires.

His hands glide over the hard planes of my body, gripping my shoulders, my arms, my hips, as if trying to claim every inch of me. The sweat that coats our bodies makes our skin slick. Our muscles strain and flex against one another. With each thrust, our bodies collide, the impact reverberating through me, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my veins.

I feel myself reaching the edge, teetering on the brink of release. The edge of release is so close I can almost taste it. He senses it too, his movements becoming more urgent, more forceful.
His hand slides down to my clit, fingers circling with practiced ease. The sensation sends electric jolts of pleasure through me. My breath comes in ragged gasps. The dual sensations of his thrusts and his touch push me over the edge. I cry out.

“Come for me,” he whispers through my storm of grunts.

With his command, it happens. I shatter beneath him, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. It’s as if every muscle in my body contracts at once, a powerful surge of release that leaves me gasping for breath. My back arches, every sinew taut as a bowstring, my hands gripping the sheets so tightly they tear. The waves of pleasure crash over me, one after another, relentless and overwhelming, each one more intense than the last. My mind goes blank.

I squeeze him tightly.

He follows soon after, erupting with a deep, primal roar, the sound vibrating through the room and into my very core. It’s a sound of pure, unrestrained release. As he empties himself inside me, I can feel the torrent of his seed surging through me, an overwhelming flood that seems to fill every part of me. The sheer volume is staggering. It’s a warm, potent wave.

Finally, we collapse together, a tangle of limbs and sweat and seed. Our breathing is heavy and uneven.

He follows moments later, his release a powerful surge that leaves us both spent and sated. For a long moment, we lie there in silence, the only sound the pounding of our hearts. I feel his fingers trailing lazy patterns across my back, a tender gesture that speaks volumes.

“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. It’s a simple phrase, but it carries the weight of my surrender and acceptance.

[Wookey]

Best story have read on this site. Not sure how you can top it

[taoschild]

Best story have read on this site. Not sure how you can top it

Thank you, Wook. That is high praise. I'm aiming to have some of the same urgency and passion in my new book.