My Big Boa

[UnholyDk1103]

Hey guys I wanted to share a story with you that is not from me.  The author is Apley44, He allowed me to post his story here. Enjoy


Chapter 1


I screamed as I brutally forced myself to complete the final rep of my 500-pound barbell bench press. Twelve full reps and my chest was already burning. My wife screamed me forward as she helped spot me. I felt sweat trickle down my forehead, but nothing could distract me more than the pain in my muscles, a gratifying, addictive, obsessive pain that could only mean the price to victory. I finished my set and my wife helped me place the barbell back on the rack. Eager to see the
enormous, pumped-up pecs that I had sculpted to perfection, I jumped off the bench, admiring my entire physique in the mirrored walls. It was a brutal workout but that was the burden of greatness. Today was a chest and back day superset, a soul-crushing combination, but you don’t become a
reigning three-time Mr Olympia at 25 years old by lifting light weights.

I slid into a confidence-oozing side chest as the other gym-goers looked on. It was my gym – I opened it five years ago when I won my first Arnold Classic – but even professional bodybuilders would not waste a chance to see my record-breaking physique in its full glory. Even I had a hard-on just admiring myself in the mirror, my naked, chiselled, dense torso glistening with the sweat of a champion. I called my gym Mike Hancock’s Iron Spa, and I wasn’t modest when I ordered to have a
photograph of my Arnold-winning physique plastered onto the the gigantic sign, in a brutally explosive front double bicep. I even had the audacity to paint, in block letters: PUSSYCATS NOT ALLOWED. I demand 200% commitment to the art of bodybuilding, and whoever came to my gym must leave half-dead or full-dead (after I punch them in the guts) by the end of the day.

Once, a few weeks after my grand opening, I noticed a college dude working out in my gym. He wasn’t at all skinny or fat, he was quite built like a football quarterback. But he wasn’t taking his workouts seriously. He was doing arms, and he was just hogging the machines and swiping his phone for 5-10 minutes between sets. Maybe he could do that in other gyms, but not in my gym. When he was about to leave, I confronted him.

“Hey, you there, where do you think you’re going?” I called out.

“Hi Mike. I’m just gonna meet my girlfriend at the coffee shop,” he said.

“Are you done with your workout?”

“Yeah, arm day today.”

“But you’re not even sweating. You come to my gym, you better make sure you’re soaked and if
you’re working arms, you better make sure you can’t even lift them!”

“What’s going on?”

“You come in here, fuck around with your phone and checking out girls’ butts, and you think you’re
gonna get away with it? When you come to my gym, I DEMAND 200% dedication!”

“What the fuck is your problem man?”

By now, a small crowd had gathered. One thing about me, I just loooove attention.

“Tell you what, Stick Arms. You can leave here and get one-year free membership, if you can beat me in a round of arm-wrestling.” I beckoned him over to a table near the entrance. “One round, right arm. You’re right-handed I assume?”

“This is ridiculous. I’m not arm-wrestling you,” he scoffed, but as he made his way to the exit, there were already three of my guys blocking his way, all heavyweight Arnold/Mr Olympia qualifiers. “Hey, man, this isn’t fair. This is like…low key kidnapping.”

“I’m not kidnapping. You can leave after this round, regardless if you win or lose. Heck fine, I’ll raise the stakes. If you win, I give you 50,000 dollars. If you lose, 25,000 dollars. What do you say?” I said, placing my elbow on the tabletop.

“I say you’re crazy. What do you possibly plan to achieve with this?”

“I get to make my point.” Here I was, a giant of a man, one of the most muscular human beings in the world, fresh from dominating the Arnold Classic, on my way to the Olympia, and I was challenging this puny little man. Of course, he wasn’t that all puny compared to an average man. He was as big as an NFL quarterback. But I was a champion bodybuilder, 6 foot 4, 370 pounds (almost double his weight) and twice his size, maybe bigger, packed to the bone with nothing but hard, dense muscle. His armsprobably measured 16 inches in circumference, but they weren’t bodybuilder worthy. His arm was a smooth cylinder packed with flesh and a flabby layer of fat, with no definition whatsoever. An average American arm. For me, my arms were a full 26-inches around, with a sculpted horseshoe tricep, softball-sized bicep peak and pencil-thick veins. My arm was all muscle, and getting it ready on the table, it was intimidating.

My bodybuilder friends flanked him, eventually bullying him into the challenge. He had absolutely no say in this. I saw his Adam’s apple rise, as if he was gulping in nervousness.

I smirked. “Alright, to make it easier for you, you can use both arms against me. And plus, I too, just worked arms today, a full two-hour blast. Concentration curls, EZ-bars, tricep pulldowns, French curls, and all the like. It was arm destruction and my limbs are exhausted. The odds could never be more in your favour.”

It was true. I destroyed my arms today. You don’t go through an arm day, without curling 5 sets of 60 pound dumbells for reps, and doing barbell curl dropsets of 140-120-100 pounds. My arms were so pumped right now, my stringer vest soaked, sweat trickling down my shoulders and torso.
 
My opponent grabbed my hand, readying himself in the starting position.

“Three, two, one, go!” he shouted.

And what an excuse of a man he was. He initially used one arm, and seeing how my arm wasn’t budging, he reinforced his push with his other hand. No avail. My arm was as unmoving as Thor’s hammer. His face was plethoric from all that straining. I guffawed at his sheer “pathetic-ness”. Then, in one fell swoop, I gathered up a mere 25% of my strength and ruthlessly smashed his hand against the table. Victory was mine. But despite it just being only a quarter of my full strength, I managed to destroy the table,
shattering the wood into a million pieces, and from there, everyone heard a pop, which was the menacing sound of my opponent’s shoulder being pulled out of its socket. But I wasn’t done, as I slammed his hand past the shattering tabletop, and all the way down onto the floor, I pinned his hand there like a clamp. He was struggling to release himself but I wasn’t going to let him. I couldn’t stop grinning as I squeezed his hand, feeling the delicate humanly bones giving way inside my powerful grip, and with that…

…CRRRAAACK!

I utterly broke every single bone in his pathetic little hand. As I let go to leave him suffering in his pain and humiliation, I ripped off my stringer vest and flexed my hulking muscles for all my onlooking fans. Some of my female clients, most of them a mixture of bikini, figure and physique competitors, eyed me dreamily as I showed off a powerful mantis pose, before going into a most muscular that blew me up to inhuman levels of growth and vascularity.

“OOOOHHHH FUCK YEAH!!!” I screamed.

Also, my gigantic package. I didn’t say this earlier, but the bulge in my shorts was unconcealable. Even without flexing like this, a simple trip to the grocery store or local coffee shop would send almost every lady turning to the direction of my groin. No straight woman could get enough of my tangerine-sized balls and 10-inch cock. Even better, I knew my way around a vagina. I had been organising orgies in my college dorm ever since I was a Classic Physique champion, and even then, girls couldn’t get enough of me. So when I transformed myself to become this gigantic heavyweight bodybuilder, making my way into the Olympia scene, girls would literally kill to have a feel of my seductive body and get my big cock into their dripping wet pussies.

This time was no different.

As the ladies (all of them IFBB pros and two of them married) jumped onto me to worship my insane muscles and fondle my humungous penis, I gestured for my male bodybuilder clients to bring my injured opponent to the hospital. As they left, I had the gym and all the girls to myself. There were six of them, all of them with ample boobs, firm bubbly butts and well-trained physiques, all of them dying to fuck me: Angela Sagara, Kourtney Kings (both sexy IFBB bikini champs), Missy Ruscott (IFBBWomen’s FItness pro), Madison Brodsky (IFBB Figure pro), Juliet Malacarne and Monique Grant(IFBB Women’s Physique competitors). Then and there, I tore off all their sexy gym clothes and I destroyed them with my penis until all six of them passed out, my potent cum just unloaded into their wombs. I hope they had some good old birth control because I was sure they were going to get pregnant. Nothing to make them desire me more than a good old showcase of strength and domination over a lesser man.

As I fucked the last of the girls senseless, content with my work and climax, I released the last of my rich semen into Angela’s pussy, before throwing her unconscious limp body onto the gym floor like a rag doll, the last of her wet juices and my residual cum trickling onto the tiles. I stretched my arms, as if waking from bed, satisfied with my work for the day. Still naked, I then checked myself out in the mirror, challenging my muscles to pop out even bigger with every flex, when I noticed in the reflection a movement at the far corner of the gym. It seems there was a lurker, but it wasn’t any lurker. This lurker had been minding his/her own business, unloading and loading the EZ curl bar at the corner. How did I not notice? I must be too engrossed in my sexcapades. From far, one might mistaken this lurker to be a pretty buff dude, someone who could outmuscle any average man. But no, as I went closer, it was a familiar face in this gym, and she wasn’t a man.

Her name was Boa Shimada. She was no ordinary Japanese girl. She had grown up in Tokyo, but she came to LA when she was 18 to further her studies. And in those years, she had managed to win the Miss Bikini Olympia, Miss Wellness Olympia, Miss Figure Olympia and Miss Fitness Olympia. And now, she had every intention to win the Miss Physique Olympia. Looking at her now, she seemed dead serious in her intentions. I just fucked Juliet Malacarne (the current Miss Physique Olympia) and Monique Grant (first runner up), but Boa was already so hard and jacked to the point ofdethroning them both. Easily.

I didn’t really think much about Asian girls, but Boa changed all that. Her sparkly hazel eyes, smooth pearly-beige skin, silky long raven hair, and each time she flicked it, it would send flutters in my heart. She didn’t need any makeup - she was already a natural beauty - but when she did put on makeup, she was a girl to behold. A girl fit for the Miss Universe pageant and all the biggest fashion magazines out there. She could literally put the most sought after K-pop and J-pop stars to shame. If the most beautiful anime girls were to come alive, they would take the form of Boa Shimada. Only, Boa Shimada was much more jacked and buff that any anime girl.

But Boa wasn’t always buff. Everyone had to start off somewhere. For her, it was the Miss Bikini Olympia. She was absolutely gorgeous. She already won three Japanese beauty pageants, and in each of them, she was awarded Miss Body Beautiful, with her elegant runway strut, her perfectly fit5 foot 8 physique, and her photogenic smile. But Boa had enough of being a pageant queen, she wanted to be a bodybuilder, because to her, muscles are sexy, even more so when these muscles are on a girl with a gorgeous face like hers. When news broke that a young Asian girl won the Miss Bikini Olympia at 18, I just couldn’t take my eyes off her, nor could the media. So you could imagine my dream come true, when one day, famous fitness photographer Maggie Walker invited me to have a beach photoshoot with Boa. I wasn’t usually this excited or nervous for a shoot, I was practically doing two or three shoots every month. When you were voted as the top five most handsome bodybuilders by Muscle Development magazine, you know you were popular. I was voted above Sadik Hadzovic and Jeff Seid, but as a world-class heavyweight bodybuilder, I was much, much bigger than them. This was different. This was with my secret crush, Boa Shimada. She would make James Bond and Chris Hemsworth tremble, let alone me.

That time, Boa had just won the NPC Wellness category, so she was looking SUPER fine. She arrived in a tiny purple bikini showing off those toned abs, perky boobs, plus a set of firmly-built thighs, glutes and calves. No wonder she won her category. I was just in my red trunks, looking formidable as ever (I tried to, in order to impress her), but she just turned the tables on me. I was the one that got flustered. From afar, as soon as she stepped out of her make-up trailer, she just radiated an aura of pure confidence: from her walk of such graceful poise, like a runway model, to the way she flicked her hair, and the way she smiled. I had a HUGE boner right away.
 
Most girls, when they modelled with me, would immediately notice my huge package hidden under my trunks, and make every attempt to casually touch it. Otherwise, they would be complimenting my body…like how big my muscles were and how much more massive I was in person than in pictures. Then throughout the whole photoshoot, everyone would notice the sexual tension and steaminess of the whole affair. On camera, these girls would be all over me, touching me and feeling all over with no boundaries whatsoever. I wouldn’t say I hated it. In fact, I loved it. Off camera, they would also be all over me, begging me to carry them around or make up excuses to touch my muscular torso or just straight up ask me to flex for them, which I would gladly oblige. Then after the shoot, I would scoop them all up in my beefy arms and fuck their brains out in my hotel room.

But not Boa. As soon as she arrived, she nodded at the photographer, Maggie, and headed straight for her lounge chair while waiting for the crew to finish setting up. She completely paid no attention to me, despite me going into subtle poses to highlight my muscular physique. She was very professional in the photoshoot. She did everything the photographer asked. Maggie wanted steamy and sexy, and we gave her steamy and sexy. Boa gave it a hundred percent, feeling up all my muscles, her perfect fingers lingering over my hardened pecs, washboard abs and dense biceps. That was more like it. And I did the same to her, taking full advantage of this photoshoot to feel those perfect glutes, thunderous thighs and delicate smooth skin of hers. Boa was worth millions. Although, I didn’t really know how she felt. Any other model I worked with, I could feel them wetting their pussies. But Boa, she seemed so composed, so cool, so sure of herself. She never uttered a word to me throughout the entire shoot. Even at times when I asked her, “Is this okay?”, “You wanna try this pose?”, “This isn’t too awkward a position right?”. She just ignored me. And after each session, when we paused for breaks, she would just immediately let go of me and head straight for her lounge, putting on her expensive Ray-bans, crossing her legs like a queen and sipping her margarita. I’m telling you, sometimes, I wasn’t even sure if she knew I was a human being because she was acting as if I was no different than a lamp post. In short, she acted like a bitch.

Still, that made me want her even more. Initially I thought she didn’t talk to me because she didn’t understand English, but when she spoke to the crew (asking to refill her margarita or touch up her makeup), she spoke impeccable English, as if she grew up in America all her life.

Things got even more desperate for me when we both had to strip naked for the nude shots. Boa was extremely popular among bodybuilder fans, and guys would actually kill to see her nude. But here I was getting up close and personal with a nude Boa Shimada, and she still didn’t have the audacity to acknowledge my presence, even when I was sporting a full 10-inch boner, decorated with a rich network of veins like the rest of my body. The women of the crew just gasped when I removed my trunks, their faces blushing, their mouths agape, but not Boa. Boa just lounged in her chair in all her nude magnificence.

But the shoot had to go on. Again, the sexual tension between us was off the charts. Our smooth skins touching each other, my hard-dick rubbing over Boa’s groin, thighs and cleanly-groomed labia, the whiff of her perfume and pheromones sending me into an oxytocin frenzy with every breeze of the seaside wind. Eventually, Maggie wanted a kissing shot and I didn’t even hesitate. I guess, Boadidn’t as well, but I was thinking her gesture was more professional than lustful. Even then, as I felt her tongue over mine, her kiss was absolutely mind-blowing. Maggie’s camera was sent to a flurry of clicks like a mini machine gun. Boa’s hands were all over my chest and arms, and mine over her soft, naturally perky boobs and bubble butt. Those boobs of hers…so beautiful…so ample. When people think of boobs on female bodybuilders, they thought of Sandra Grajales or Missy Truscott, but Boa’s was just as great. Squeezing those jugs with her tongue in my mouth, that was when I came, my dick spewing cum all over her. And I had to tell you, when I cum, I was a fire-hose. There were at least two pints of cum being unloaded onto her.

“Oh my God!” Maggie shouted. “Someone, get towels.”

I noticed some of the female crew stare in awe at my amazing potency before snapping out of their trance. Some of them I even caught licking their lips. Who could blame them? With a body as ripped as mine, a face as handsome as mine, and a cock as huge as mine, I was the epitome of the perfectman, a fine example of human virility.

“Oh wow, Hancock, you’re seriously hungry, aren’t you?” Boa finally said. And to my surprise, she gave a brief chuckle. A chuckle so cute and girly, she sent me into a frenzy of palpitations. Butterflies were threatening to spill from my guts.

“Um…I’m sorry…I didn’t know what happened, Miss Shimada.”

“Oh I know exactly what happened. You think I didn’t notice, but you’ve had that boner since the moment you saw me. And that look on your face…my God, you’re like a man entranced. Don’t worry, I’m used to it. Not a day goes by in my life where men didn’t look at me that way.” She ran afinger over her well-toned abs, with a hint of a chiselled four-pack, scooping up the cum before popping it into her mouth. “Tasty. And warm. I like it. Tell you what, since you’ve been so nice today, once we are done here, you give my room a knock. Its room 437.”

And my GOD! That was the most amazing sex I had ever had in my entire life. I had orgasm after orgasm after orgasm! I couldn’t last more than 15 seconds before climaxing. And I was guessing she had a pretty fun time too, not that she was showing it that much. But I kinda felt that she wasn’t faking it, and those moans, while reserved, were real for her. They had to be. I had literally one of the most humungous, most vascular cocks in the world and was practically slamming my balls against her butt. Still, as amazing as the night was, by dawn, I noticed the bed empty next to me. Her luggage and all her stuff was gone. She just left. No note. Nothing. She was truly the girl that got away.

From then on, I was keeping very close tabs on her. Any show she signed up for, I was there. But as usual, she hardly noticed me, as if our photoshoot had never even taken place. Nevertheless, it was certainly a treat to see her body transform over the years. In that photoshoot, she had the body of a Wellness champion, but as she trained harder and harder, she was putting on pound after pound of muscle, sculpting her body like a masterpiece, transforming those feminine curves and flesh of hers into layers upon layers of rock-solid muscle.
 
Eventually she turned into the upcoming Women’s Physique competitor she was on that day. Fast forward, I had just fucked Angela Sagara, Kourtney Kings, Missy Ruscott, Madison Brodsky, Juliet Malacarne and Monique Grant, but my dick was itching for the pussy of Boa Shimada. She had been a member of my gym for 6 months now, and in that period I had been gathering up the courage to ask her out. Honestly, for someone who had been making me feel invisible to her for most her life, it was actually quite surprising to see her sign up for my gym. Of course, my gym was state-of-the-art, one of the best in the country. That was the best day of my life, but unfortunately, I wasn’t there when she first came. Otherwise, I would have shown her around. My assistant, a college student working part-time but a junior bodybuilder himself, registered her and only told me afterwards.

The day I won that arm wrestling match was the first day I approached her after all these years. But it was weird. Did she just see me fuck five female bodybuilders in the middle of the room and said nothing?

Boa was stacking up the weights onto an EZ curl bar when I approached. The clangs of the metal made her more intimidating and serious than she actually looked, and she already looked dead serious and intimidating. Her shoulders were capped, deltoids well-striated and bulging, knots and lumps of muscle moulding into a formidable V-shaped back, her pumped up biceps with pencil-thick veins, the definition impeccable(as compared to her toned arms when we did the photoshoot, now her arms were ripped). She had her lush hair in a ponytail, exposing the radiance of her face, still beautiful as ever. She was now in a tight sports bra, exposing a chiselled six-pack (which was a massive upgrade from her toned four-pack in her Wellness days), her gorgeous boobs jutting out of two well-separated slabs of thick muscle she called her pecs. And then there were her legs. She was wearing a bikini brief, like those of female track and field athletes, thus showing off a well-muscledheart-shaped ass, with thunderous thighs, the sartorius muscle and tensor fascia lata popping out from her flesh. This Boa had grown twice the size of Wellness Boa and could crush Wellness Boa with her bare hands.

She was between me and the mirror. To catch her attention, I posed for her, in a God-like pose, my right arm curled into a bicep flex, while my left arm outstretched, pointing to the ceiling. I then transitioned into a dynamic javelin pose. She still paid me no notice. I counted the weights she was stacking onto bar. It was a full 175 pounds.

“Whoa, can you seriously curl 175 pounds? That’s the weight of an average man,” I asked.

“Yes, for about 20 reps. I usually go heavier for strength training, usually 190-200 pounds for 8-10 reps, but today, I’m focusing on time under tension because I need to get ripped,” she replied, still not making eye contact with me.

“But you’re already ripped.”

“Well, I know, but I can get even more ripped. I don’t just want to win the Miss Physique Olympia, I want to win DOMINANTLY. Then after this, when I bump up and win Women’s Bodybuilding next year, I will be the only female bodybuilder in HISTORY to win every single Olympia category for women. All this before my 24th birthday,” she declared, applying a clamp collar to the bar. She still refused to look at me when I was talking to her.

“I was thinking, you know, if you wanted to go out sometime?”

With a loud, sexy but scary grunt, she hoisted the EZ bar from the rack, “Are you seriously asking me out…” Mid-sentence, she started her first rep, controlling her breathing, and pumping out curl after curl in perfect form. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to continue talking or wait for her to finish her sentence. After the 20th rep, she set the bar down, and continued, “…after you just fucked five girls in front of me? You had big balls, but I don’t remember them being THAT big.” I didn’t know what else to say. Yeah, what the fuck was I thinking man? Boa strutted front of the mirror and struck an incredible front double bicep – biceps with baseballsized peaks so ripped and defined andpumped that guys would actually kill to have. They were at least 17 inches. Add that with the veins that were throbbing, and you had a girl with muscles that could make any male lightweight bodybuilder like Sadik Hadzovic and Raymont Edwards tremble with insecurity, let alone the women. She knew this too, and the smug look on her face said it all.

“So, are you gonna stare at me all day like a pervert or are you gonna jerk off to me in the bathroom?” She said, flexing and unflexing to pump her biceps even harder, admiring them as she watched them gloriously explode for her. “Go on, fuck off, you’re sucking up all my oxygen.”

That was like a slap in the face. I eventually put my clothes back on and made myself a protein shake at the juice bar, reeling from embarrassment. However, an hour later, as Boa was heading for the exit after her brutal arm workout, she passed by me, flipped her hair, and flicked a folded piece of paper in my direction. I unfolded it.

TOMORROW NIGHT. SMITH STREET WAREHOUSE. 8PM. DON’T BE LATE.

I turned to look at her but she was already heading out the door. Even then, she did not bat me aneye throughout our entire interaction.

Note (I changed some names of the female bodybuilders I had fucked in case I get in trouble for suggesting to have sex with actual people who exist):

Angela Sagara – Anllela Sagra
Kourtney Kings – Courtney King
Missy Ruscott – Missy Truscott
Madison Brodsky – Melissa Brodsky
Juliet Malcarne – Juliana Malacarne
Monique Grant – Shanique Grant

[Wookey]

Love it K+

[GLKnight]

That name sounds very familiar. Do Apley44 have a site or patreon where they post stuff?

[jhunter]

Interesting. Thanks for sharing.

[Apley44]

Thanks for sharing, UnholyDk1103. And to GLKnight, i wrote “Mr and Mrs Everest” and the ongoing “Genetic Giants” on this site.

[quick]

Awesome! Can we expect more of this story?

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 2

I reached the Smith Street Warehouse at exactly 7.50pm. I didn’t know what to wear, so I decided to
go with a full-on suit and tie. It was a date, and the last thing I want was to come to a fancy
restaurant and get kicked out for not dressing the part. Better to be a bit overdressed than
underdressed. The warehouse was eerily empty. But then, I saw a couple of young dudes sneaking in
by the back. And then a group of college students. Then followed by some tough-looking trucker
guys. I was curious, so I headed off to the back, tailing the truckers until they stopped in front of a
metal door. A slit in the metal door opened, and a pair of eyes peered at them. The truckers
mumbled something, and the door opened, and they went in, which seemed to be leading towards a
staircase going downstairs. The door slammed shut again. I was thinking it was a fancy bar.
Curious, I trotted towards the metal door and gave it two knocks. The slit opened again, the man
behind it asked for the password.
“Uhhh…” I was taken aback.
“No password, no entry.” And the slit rolled shut.
“Mike!”
I turned around. It was Boa and she was smoking hot! She was wearing a purple satin mini dress,
with a furry scarf draped over her shoulders. The dress showed off an enormous amount of
cleavage, and muscle as well. It hugged her solid V-taper physique, the sexy butt and indestructible
abs, the bricks of her six-pack just bulging against the fabric. Her capped shoulders, shredded arms
and solid pecs emerged from her neckline, showing both feminism and power all at once. The
hemline ended just enough to cover her groin, exposing much of her long, sexy, muscular legs, the
striated fibres of her teardrop thighs blooming with every step, her high heels accentuating the
bulge and vascularity of her solid calves. Add that with the aura of confidence, plus the hypnotic
perfume and mesmerisingly touched-up face, no man could withstand the seductive trance she
placed us in.
“Boa, you look gorgeous!” I complimented.
“Thank you, I know. You look pretty suave yourself, lemme guess, that suit is custom made?”
“Yes, I just couldn’t fit into any suits anymore because I’m just too big.”
“Charming, and you look stuffed into this one…” she said, wrapping her hands around my arm which
stretched the fabric of my suit to its limit. “Let’s go in shall we?”
She knocked on the metal door.
“Password?” The bouncer demanded.
“Draco,” Boa answered, and the door swung open.
Holding my hand, Boa led me down the stairs. At the end, I saw the flash of neon lights and the faint
cheers of a crowd that got louder and louder as I approached. Eventually, the basement that greeted
us was as wide as the warehouse compound itself, and it was straight out of a WWE scene. There
was a fighting ring in the centre, and around it were hundreds of spectators, cheering for their
favourite fighters. Two men were fighting at the time: one seemed to dress up wuxia-style and the
other in tights. I didn’t get to see who was winning because Boa just led me past the crowd of
raucous spectators and towards a corner where a booth was set up.
“Ahhh, Miss Boa. Welcome back. I see you have brought a guest,” the man behind the booth said.
“Yes, this was the guy I was telling you about. His name is Mike Hancock. Up-and-coming men’s
bodybuilding champion,” Boa said.
“Yes, he will be up next. Against The Cyclops.”
I was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“Oh Mike. I’m not your average girl next door. I like my dates suuuper exciting. That’s why I signed
you up yesterday.”
“I’m supposed to go up there…and fight?” I glanced at the ring. The wuxia guy just struck a
roundhouse kick that landed straight at his opponent’s cheek. Blood spattered onto the floor. “Okay,
you must be insane.”
“C’mon, I’ll be going up against three top female fighters tonight. All professionals. And I’m not
scared. I haven’t lost a match, have I, Luke?”
“No, Miss. Miss Boa here is 17-0. A new record!”
“And I’m not even the biggest girl here. I defeated everyone just the same. But you, look at these
mmmmuscles…mmm…” she stroked my huge biceps, “Your opponents will tremble at the sight of
you!”
The guy in tights tackled the wuxia guy NFL-style and locked him in a Nelson hold. “I’m not going up
there.”
Boa frowned. “C’mon , I’ve seen you spar. You have some moves. Plus your strength…”
“That’s not the same. I’ve never been in a real fight before.”
“There’s a first time for everything. First time in the ring, first time dating me, first time fucking
me…plus if you win, you get 10,000 dollars. If you lose, you get 5,000.”
That got me thinking. 10,000 was a lot of money, and even then, 5,000 was already in the bag. “How
good is this Cyclops guy?”
“Well, he is pretty big, like a sumo wrestler. But he has an eye patch for his blind eye, hence the
name. But he isn’t that great. His record is 4-4. Even skinny wuxia guy up there defeated him.”
We observed the match that was taking place. The guy in tights finally got the upper-hand in the
fight and was basically grabbing his opponent in a camel-clutch. Fearing for his spine, the wuxia guy
desperately tapped his hands on the floor and surrendered. The guy in tights let go.
“He should have been merciless and just break the guy’s back. The only rule: you give it your all, and
you’re under no obligation to stop. The organisers basically pay the medical bills, and you have the
glory of ending your opponent’s career. Nothing despises me more than a revenge story, unless that
revenge is mine,” Boa said.
I blinked, speechless. Luke handed me a clipboard.
“Sign here please Mr Hancock.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s basically consent. Stating that you’re here participating on your own free will. But medical bills
are claimable.”
“Not exactly 100% on my own free will,” I corrected, but I signed anyway. The last thing I want was
to chicken out in front of my date. I was egotistical that way.
As the ring cleared, the emcee started introducing the next match.
“Ladies and gentleman. For our next match, we have a new fighter on our midst, against one of our
fan favourites. First up, in this corner of the ring, weighing 365 pounds, he is blind in one eye, but he
sees everything on the fighting ring, I present to you, the champion of New Orleans, Cyclops!”
A massively obese man, with bald head but crowded beard, step on the ring. He was in black singlet
and shorts. Seemed like a wrestler. The thing about this fight club was that you could use any
fighting style. From tae-kwon-do, to MMA, to Olympic Graeco-Roman wrestling, all was permitted.
And there were no referees. You either fight till your opponent surrendered, or when he/she got
knocked out.
“And over here on this corner of the ring, our new champion! You may have heard of him in
bodybuilding shows all over the country, and I have to say, this man is ripped! Weighing 370 pounds
of pure muscle, let’s give it up for Mike Hancock!”
As the emcee pointed over to me, the crowd cheered, some of them clearing a path for me to the
ring. Well, since everyone was eager to see a fight, I decided…I shall give them a fight. I was heavier
than this Cyclops guy. He was full of fat, bound to be slow, although no doubt he would be strong.
His moves would involve bodyweight and momentum. And he would be hard to knock down. But
me, I was pure muscle. I was more agile, despite my huge size. But while his weight wore him down,
mine propelled me forward with muscle power. And I did my fair share of kickboxing in my gym, so I
know a thing or two about knocking someone out.
I cupped my hands around my ear to urge the crowd on. As I made my way onto the ring, I ripped off
my shirt, giving everyone a full display of my famous rock-solid flesh. I swore I heard a group of girls
scream when I did a pec bounce. I eyed my opponent sinisterly, mocking him with my perfectly built
shape. I then tore off my pants and shoes, revealing my trunk underneath, which was struggling to
hold the bulge of my giant package. I was barefoot, and wearing nothing else but my underwear, my
muscular glutes exploding. It would be a waste if I didn’t strike a few poses. After all I was pumped. I
had to be, going through a series of resistance exercises before I came as I wanted to look as huge as
I could for Boa. I also trained chest, back and abs today, so I guess the audience deserved that. I slid
into a side chest, before transitioning into a ¾ back pose. The crowd went wild.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t notice a tinge of self-doubt from Cyclop’s face. We were both huge,
but two different types of huge. He was obese huge, and I was muscular huge. Imagine yourself
squaring off against a guy like Jay Cutler or Ronnie Coleman. I was better than Jay and Ronnie.
“Man, this guy is ripped! I wouldn’t wanna mess with him,” the emcee said.
The bell dinged to signify the start of the fight. Screaming, Cyclops charged towards me. I froze and
soon, the entire weight of his body came crashing towards me. I felt my head slam against the hard
floor, but as he landed on me, I tucked my feet under his belly and just like all the times I maxed out
at 2500 pounds on the leg press, I kicked him up into the air. His weight was nothing compared to
the weights I lift. It was a truly powerful kick and his whole body flew back towards the towards the
ring ropes. As the elasticity of the ropes propelled him back towards me, the momentum of my kick
launched me up back to my feet and I quickly got into a boxing stance. When the time was right, I
chose my point of impact carefully and with all the strength in my arm, back and shoulders, I landed
a punch straight onto his maxilla. Luke later told me I shattered his zygomatic bone with that one hit.
I saw a tooth fly out, as well as crimson red blood from his nose. He landed on the floor, groaning.
“One! Two! Three!” the emcee shouted, the crowd echoing him. But the Cyclops found no strength
to get back up.
I won. Just like that, 10,000 dollars in my account. And more importantly, at the back of the room, I
saw Boa eyeing me seductively, the first time she ever smiled genuinely at me, a look of respect
plastered onto her face. I was finally worthy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have..A NEW CHAMPION! Give it up for Mike Hancock!”
I flared into a front lat spread as I basked in the roar of the crowd.
Next up was the women’s match and of course, Boa was up. Still in my trunks, I made my way back
to her, as she wrapped her hands around my neck and planted a tender kiss onto my lips.
“You were amazing! So heroic…so strong…so sexy…”
“Wow, that means a lot, coming from you.” I wasn’t lying. All our interactions in the past, from the
photoshoot to our interactions in the gym, she had always ignored me. Now, she couldn’t keep her
hands off me.
“Ladies and gentleman, tonight we have a very special event for you. A four-cornered fight between
four of the greatest female fighters, not just in this tournament, but also, in the world. Our first
contestant, over at this corner, three time world female heavyweight boxing champion, weighing
185 pounds, Jill “The Manslaughterer” Carneiro.”
A woman in her early thirties, in black sports bra and shorts, stepped onto the ring. She had tattoos
all over her neck and arms and piercings in her nose. I knew who she was. Jill Carneiro, three time
world champion, and former Olympic champion. She would be four time world champion this year, if
she hadn’t gotten into a bar fight and got arrested in Miami. Eventually, she was bailed out, but I
guess the boxing world wouldn’t look too highly on a girl that sent five men to the brink of death.
She depended on underground fighting tournaments like these for her living now. Her record here
was 9-0. She was pretty big at 185 pounds, heavier than the average man, and taller too, at 6 foot 4.
She had broad shoulders, but not exactly a shredded body. Boxers didn’t need to be. They need
mass, not aesthetics. Still, she was pretty big and it would be maniacal to mess with her.
“Next up, over at this corner, we have the former Navy SEAL and one of the US Navy’s top hand-tohand expert trainer, weighing 183 pounds, Rebecca “Captain Monster” Grayson.”
This lady was in her mid-thirties, also the size of Jill. As a Navy SEAL, she went on tours in
Afghanistan and Iraq. As mentioned, she was one of the top hand-to-hand combat trainers for the
US Navy SEAL, and she trained both men and women. Once, on a mission in Afghanistan, her gun
jammed, so she had to kill 5 heavily-armed al-Qaeda members with her bare hands. She was
discharged after she did the same to 8 civilians in the market, caught on camera by CNN. Now, she
thrusts her anger to her opponents on the ring, and she was good at it. Her record was 11-1, her
only loss, was against Boa. To this day, Boa regretted not ending Rebecca then and there. She tried
to but it turned out, the doctors managed to get Rebecca up and running again. Boa vowed this
wouldn’t happen again.
“Our third contestant, we have a woman you do not want to mess with. Of course, you wouldn’t
want to cross any of these ladies tonight. Still, we have former Olympic heavyweight lifter and gold
medallist, Susan “She-Hulk” Thorpe.”
Susan Thorpe was known for her gold medal in Olympic weightlifting, a world record 190kg (or 419
pounds) on the clean and jerk, but in LA, she was known for other reasons. After she retired from
weightlifting, she worked under an LA mob boss, and spent her days beating up rival gang members.
She was big, you had to be to win the Olympic gold in weightlifting, and at 6 foot 5, she was one of
the biggest women I had ever met, that was not a bodybuilder. Her record here was 12-0.
“And last but not least, we have another bodybuilder in our midst, already winning the Miss Olympia
Bikini, Miss Olympia Wellness, Miss Olympia Figure, Miss Olympia Fitness and this year, aiming to
win the Miss Olympia Physique. Weighing 175 pounds, she is already the best fighter in our ring,
with a 17-0 record. Give it up for Boa “Viper Queen” Shimada!”
Boa gave me a peck on the cheek before strutting over to the ring in her graceful supermodel walk.
As she did, she tossed her furry scarf into the crowd, the men fighting to grab it, as well as her high
heels. Even without those heels, every stomp of her barefeet only accentuates the power in those
muscular legs of hers. Like a badass professional, she parted the ring ropes with her foot and arms
and elegantly slithered her way onto the platform. Finally, in one sexy gesture, she undid the hook of
her dress and let it fall onto the floor, revealing a tiny, purple microkini that showed off her
shredded, defined physique, as well as those perky, ample boobs of hers. From her solid six-pack, to
her concrete pecs, her 17-inch arms, bunched-up back and super striated legs, she looked super
dominant despite being lighter than all her opponents. But just like me, all of her weight was pure
muscle. If An Da Jeong or Dana Linn Bailey looked scary, Boa was terrifying. Her opponents may be
heavier, but theirs were a mix of muscle and fat. Boa, as if chiselled from granite, was pure, dense,
hard muscle. That was what made her scarier than the rest.
In one final show of her formidability, she planted her right foot firmly on the floor, and dragged her
left leg behind her so that it was on tiptoes, flexing every muscle in her calves, hamstring, quads and
glutes. Then she twisted to the right, tightening her midsection to show the bursting array of
obliques, intercostals, serratus and six-packs of her right bodice. It was then a right side tricep, the
horseshoe shaped muscle bulging from her solid flesh, with a single bicep flex of her left arm, the
peak so pumped and defined, it looked as if she had a baseball in there. It was her signature pose:
“The Boa Dynamite”.
The bell dinged.
Boa got into her signature predatory pose. Despite them all being brutal fighters in their own right,
the other three opponents seemed to be banding together to take down Boa first. Which was weird
for me. Was Boa really that terifying?
Jill charged first, with Rebecca closely behind. Jill launched a lightning left fist straight at Boa, but my
girl managed to anticipate this and sidestepped to the right and while she did, she briefly eyed an
opening in Jill’s left ribcage. In one ruthlessly swift movement, Boa struck her knee straight into Jill’s
torso and the whole room silenced as a loud crack emanated, ribs shattering. One down. That
happened in less than a second because just as Boa was done with Jill, Rebecca had aimed a
roundhouse kick straight at Boa but she caught the former SEAL’s foot in her hands and using
Rebecca’s momentum, spun 360 degrees like a top before hurling Rebecca to a corner of the ring.
That left Susan, who was charging at her with a metal chair. Boa caught it and a tug-of-war started,
with Susan pushing the chair on Boa and Boa resisting her.
“Your world record was 419 pounds, Susan. But I lift that weight for reps!” Boa said, smirking. And
with that, Boa pushed Susan’s giant body away with a powerfully muscular leg. Susan let go of the
chair as her whole body tumbled backwards, and Boa took this chance to smash the chair straight
into Susan’s head, making a dent in the metal.
By now, Rebecca had composed herself and started another attack. Boa was ready for this and
parried her opponent’s arms away, and with that, opened up Rebecca’s entire torso. It was then that
Boa launched a series of devastating and lighting fast blows like machine-gun fire straight into her
opponent, every blow met with an orchestra of cracks and fractures. I had seen Boa do this before in
the gym. Her punches were deadly, strong and fast. She had already destroyed five of my punching
bags, and the last one, she punched it straight out of its chain and sent it flying to the opposite wall.
Every muscle in her body, from her arms, to her shoulders, to her back, was flaring right now, every
strike powered by muscles exploding with strength. And her mind was ruthless. She showed no signs
of stopping. She failed to end Rebecca once, she wasn’t gonna repeat her mistake again. And we had
to remember, this fight had no boxing gloves. It was bare hands, so Rebecca felt the full brunt of
Boa’s unstoppable force.
Eventually after ten seconds and fifty punches later, an average of five punches per second, Boa
gave one killer blow straight into Rebecca’s jaw. A brutal uppercut that eventually shattered
Rebecca’s mandible and all her lower teeth. She had to eat with a straw for 6 months. Rebecca out.
FATALITY, as Mortal Kombat used to say.
Jill tried to get up, but Boa grabbed her by the neck with one hand, and lifted her like two feet off
the ground, before smashing Jill’s head straight onto the floor like a rag doll. A full 180 pounds of Jill,
manhandled like she was made of something cheaper than plastic. This time, Boa got her in a
headlock, Jill’s head stuffed between Boa’s rock-hard biceps and muscular forearms.
It was then that Susan stood back up, still slightly dazed from the chair to the head. But Boa gave her
no chance to catch her breath, for in a show of supreme flexibility and agility, while still holding Jill in
a death choke, Boa leaped and wrapped Susan’s head in a leg scissor. Struggling on the floor, Susan
tried desperately to pull Boa’s thighs apart with her Olympic winning strength, but Boa’s thighs were
brutally trained for both strength, power and mass. 500 pound squats and 600 pound leg presses,
twice a week for the last five years. Susan was certainly no match for them.
Right now, Boa had two of the most deadlist fighters in the world at her mercy, one in a head lock by
her left arm, and another in a leg scissor. To kill the time, Boa yawned and decided to do some onearmed push-ups with her free right arm. The crowd counted with her.
“One! Two! Three…”
“…Twenty nine! Thirty!”
“Oh yeah!” Boa shouted, flexing her powerfully-built right bicep, as she winked at the audience.
By now, Jill and Susan’s bodies were already limp, and as one final goodbye, Boa twisted her left
arm. A crack echoed throughout the room. With her cervical spine shattered, Jill would become
tetraplegic for the rest of her life.
As for Susan, Boa wanted to show everyone how dominant she really was. So, in one loud grunt, Boa
lifted Susan’s 200 pound body over her head. She even held it there, for everyone to relish in the
greatness, every muscle in her body exploding with veins and power, the striations of her arm and
shoulder muscles all knotted and well-separated in their insertion points at her axilla. And then,
when she had enough, Boa screamed cathartically as she slammed Susan’s backbone straight into
her thrusting right knee, the terrifying sound of Susan’s broken vertebrae blaring across the room. If
that wasn’t enough, she tossed Susan’s limp body over to the emcee’s table, the four legs giving way
under Susan’s immense weight as she hit the tabletop.
The crowd of this underground fight tournament cheered. Boa was unstoppable. She went up
against the three most deadliest female fighters in the world, did not even get hit once. But she was
sweating, and with that sweat, her muscles glistened in the light. She went into a victorious javelin
pose that showcased her glorious, ripped physique and also her ruthless dominance in the ring.
Those muscles, now pumped, blooming with every well-defined sinew and striation.
After her celebration, she jumped straight into me, showering me with kisses. I could feel her hard,
sweaty body against mine, and I kissed her back.
“Let’s get our money and get out of here. You’ve been sporting that boner ever since my name was
announced and I need that big hard dick in my pussy this instant!” She demanded.
We didn’t even get dressed. Barefeet and in our underwear, we got a cab and went straight to my
house. It was the best sex I ever had in my life. A badass, ruthless girl which was muscular, ripped
and gorgeous, pleasuring me with sexual positions I didn’t even know existed.
“Ohhh Mike, you were so amazing out there. So brave and strong…my hero…”
“Are you kidding me Boa? YOU are amazing! You just took down three brutal fighters and came off
without a scratch. Plus, I think you ended their careers!”
“Mm…Mike,” Boa said, kissing me and thrusting her powerful hips at me, “I know. I just love
dominating! Your muscles are so big and hard, like a suit of armour. I want that! I want to be bigger!
I want to be RIPPED! The biggest female bodybuilder ever! No one will DARE mess with me. And I
will go to the fight club, and destroy every man and woman that dares to stand in my way. And you
will help me get there. Something tells me, this is going to be a great relationship.”

[Digital Garden]

Great story!! Love to see where this goes next.

[Wookey]

Loving this story K+

[Elmanouche]

Great story indeed.
Looking forward for more.

[jhunter]

Great to see more. And curious as to see how things proceed.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 3


We continued participating in the underground fight club over the course of our relationship. I was up 13-0 by the time Olympia season was coming up, and Boa was 27-0. I focused on using my brute strength to just destroy my opponents, all the while continuing to build up my muscle as a natural  armoured protection. My pecs were thick, my back…relentless, and my abs…like steel. Once, a fighter tried to punch my washboard abs, but he ended up breaking five bones in his hand. Boa taught me that. Before meeting Boa, maybe I would have felt the pain of an incoming punch, but she made me get used to the pain.

During one of our lessons, she removed her Nike jacket to reveal a tiny bikini top that showed off a rippling set of abs, flanked by a pair of stone-cut obliques and serratus muscles, tapering into a sexually-gratifying Adonis belt. Indeed, she was going to boss the Women’s Physique category. She just finished a 20-minute session on the stairmaster, and if that wasn’t enough she had a backpack strapped over her shoulders, filled with a 45-pound plate to add to the difficulty. It was a brutal  cardio workout, thus her glistening sweat made her ripped midsection all the more sexier. And indeed, she had the BEST abs, of all female bodybuilders in the world. A poll by “Muscular
Development” magazine concluded that she was voted “Most Ripped Abdomen” out of all the best female bodybuilders in the world. Readers were given 20-30 anonymised photos of flexed, chiselled female abs, and asked to vote for the “Most Ripped”. Boa’s abs ranked No 1, blazing past wellknown shredded midsections belonging to Eleonora Dobrinina, Dana Linn Bailey, Roxanne Edwards and Yaxeni Oriquen. There was a separate tribute gallery to Greg Plitt on the next page, and comparing Boa’s and Greg’s abs side-by-side, some say Boa’s were better, although opinions on this were divided. But one thing was evident, Boa’s abs could utterly shame half the professional male bodybuilders’ out there.

Anyways, back to the main topic, Boa was exposing her abs, and she challenged me to punch it as   hard as I could. I was hesitant at first, but seeing how confident she was…I tried my best. She didn’t even flinch…in fact, I was reeling from the pain in my fist. She merely laughed at my futile attempts.

“The key…is to always be in a semi-flexed form. But for me, since I’m an expert, I didn’t even need to flex. My abs are as hard as they come, they are like diamonds!” She said, running her hands over her jacked, bumpy midsection. It was hard to imagine her as this toned bikini competitor less than four
years ago, and now, transformed herself into this shredded Goddess.

And from that day on, I became her punching bag. She got to train her strikes, and I get to train my  muscular resilience. It was painful at first. I may be this huge 300+ pound Olympia-sized bodybuilder, and she was this 175 pound women’s physique competitor, but she could break me apart if she  wanted to. Her punches were way more deadly than those of the men I faced in the fight club. When she struck, she struck fast, hard and strong, every single fibre in her muscular body rippling with power. And don’t underestimate her. She may be smaller than me, but she was still a bodybuilder, built for mass and muscle, and they were not for show. Once, I charged at her, but she merely grabbed me and tossed my whole body to the ground in a swift judo throw, despite me being twice her size and weight. She pinned me to the ground, her right hand clutching my throat, her sexy left foot pressed against my forehead, and for all my worth, no matter how big or muscular I was, I was at her mercy.

And when we were not training that way, Boa would hire a professional fighter to our home gym for a sparring session. And this time, it wasn’t ladies. It was the men. One day, I was working out naked, my enormous tangerine-sized balls and giant package hanging loose, doing 50-pound dumbbell curls when Boa came in with UFC champion, Frank Vasquez. She paid him 10,000 dollars an hour just to spar with her, and she would cover any medical bills incurred, provided he didn’t hold anything backand he let her spar naked. Showing her muscular physique was an important tactic for her, for she knew, her extremely ripped muscularity would struck fear in any of her opponents even before the first blow was struck. And right from the bat, Frank stood no chance. I had seen Frank on TV before, and he could take a punch from his fellow opponents. In the UFC Final, Frank got two consecutive hits straight to his face, and it was nasty. His opponent threw his entire bodyweight to that punch, but Frank merely re-steadied himself, spit out the blood, and launched a flurry of ruthless counterattacks that won him the prize. But here, Boa just smashed her fist into his face one time, her back and shoulder muscles exploding, and already Frank was dazed. And without any mercy, Boa finished him off with a barrage of punches and kicks like machine gun fire that left our reigning UFC champion unconscious within 3 minutes. Even with her kicks, you could see the sheer power in her massively ripped legs, and each blow was straight up from a horror show. You DO NOT want to be on the receiving end of that.

“Come on, get up! I paid for an hour,” Boa said, but when it was clear Frank was out, she just spat on his body and casually, chained a 45 pound plate around her chest, making her way to the pull-up bar for some weighted upside down crunches, rotating her torso for alternating crunches every time she reached the top. 400 reps, with a 45 pound plate dangling from her back. Once she was done, she did an abdominals pose in the mirror, admiring the terrifying set of rippling abs she had built, with cuts, veins and grooves much more defined then the fittest Spartan warriors.

“Mike, I’m thirsty,” she said suddenly.

“Well I think I still have some water –“

“No,” she grabbed my naked testicles, “I don’t want water.”

So I took my seat on a bench and let her quench her thirst. She was like a succubus, her blowjobs an epitome of heavenly seduction, at the same time putting me into a state of near unconsciousness. “Flex for me,” she commanded as she sucked my dick. I complied, her hands worshipping every inch of my solid flesh.

I lasted less than 30 seconds, and I think I unloaded almost a pint of my cum, and she guzzled it down like a protein shake. Well, my cum WAS a rich source of protein anyway.

When she was done, she went back to the ring and casually slung Frank’s limp body over her shoulder, as if he weighed no more than a pillow. I was mesmerized. He could easily be 190 pounds. Boa was strong, beautiful, ruthless, and ripped: a perfect combination for a goddess.

“Mike, I’m just gonna bring Frank to the hospital. Don’t go anywhere…I’m not done yet…” she eyed me mischievously.

Sex with Boa was amazing. She was flexible, going into positions I never knew existed, and when she wrapped those thick, beefy, powerful legs around you, there was no escape. Not that I wanted to. Those legs, mmmm…they felt so good. And when she gave me footjobs…I could hardly hold it in. Embracing her in bed every night, worshipping each other’s bodies, her silky skin, coupled by the dense, vascular flesh that she had so brutally built, I couldn’t ask for a more perfect partner.

Once, she was invited for a promotional event for Nike beach sportswear in Venice Beach. It was attended by three other Nike sponsored athletes: Brazilian soccer player Juliano Moraes, Australian swimmer Brett Emory, and Russian heptathlon athlete Natalia Malkova. The men had to wear the
Nike swim shorts while the ladies had to promote the Nike Hydrastrong bikinis. It goes without saying that despite the others being world-famous athletes (Juliano already winning five Ballon d’Ors with Brett and Natalia having multiple Olympic gold medals to their names), Boa just humiliated  them with her muscular development. Boa was still a women’s physique competitor, so she wasn’t exactly a mass monster (…yet), but she was unbelievably conditioned and she was still packing more mass than your average women, and most of your average men. When she emerged for the journalists and photographers, her muscles were just ripped, with sinews and striations blooming from every inch of her flesh. Even against Juliano and Brett, they were awfully fit and toned, with hints of a four-pack in their abdomens, but they were certainly no match for Boa’s feminine muscular definition. A journalist wanted to joke, and asked Boa to flex her 17-inch biceps next to the guys. Boa proudly and unhesitatingly complied, because she knew she was gonna show them up, and it was the guys who had to be coaxed to be a good sport. You should have heard the cheers in the crowd when she was flexing. Juliano and Brett had big arms, also around 17-18 inches, but no one could argue that this girl had the more formidable biceps. Boa’s peak was much more defined,  like a baseball stuffed into her arm, the striations bunching up and twisting around each other, the throbbing veins exploding to fill up her pumped up muscle fibres with blood. Boa was the clear winner, and it wasn’t just her biceps. Even her thighs and calves, despite Juliano being a soccer player and Brett being a swimmer, Boa’s legs were as thick as theirs (if not thicker) and definitely much more shapely and striated. There was a clear firm protrusion of her meaty, muscular basketball-sized heart-shaped glutes, the obvious expansion of her teardrop-shaped thighs, with cable-like striations over her quads, and a snaking sartorius muscle crossing over them, tapering perfectly into her feminine knees, before blooming out again into vein-engorged, rugby-sized gastrocnemius muscles. If we were to take pictures of all of their legs, people would have a hardtime guessing correctly whose legs belong to a football player and swimmer, because Boa’s legs clearly outmuscled theirs. She always had strong, thick, sexy, heavy legs, ever since her Wellness days. She could wrap them around your torso in a body scissor and crush every bone in your ribcageand spine if she wanted to. She could use a chop kick and destroy a stone bench in one powerful strike. She did it once, when she donated to upgrade the stone benches in a local park to wooden ones. Five strikes, five park benches. And she even did it barefoot. And to prove that it was such a simple task for her, she came home and went for a 10-mile jog after the ceremony.

And that V-taper, fuck that V-taper. No one cared if Brett was the best swimmer of his time. He had a V-taper but it was nothing compared to how prominent Boa’s one was. She had a large back and wide shoulders, some say as big as Brett’s, and Brett was 6 foot 4, and Boa was 5 foot 8. But Boa’s waist was thinner, and much more shredded and Boa was trained in professional posing, so she knew how to eclipse her counterparts, accentuating every feature in her dominant size and physique. Natalia, who had a 100 meter gold medallist as a boyfriend, and had dated three other male athletic champions, couldn’t even get her hands off Boa. She took every opportunity to casually request Boa for a flex, and feel her muscles. Obviously, she had never met a girl as ripped as Boa, because, there weren’t many girls as ripped as Boa.

And Boa’s body wasn’t just for show. There was a swimming pool complex nearby, and a journalist casually suggested that Boa should race Brett, an Olympic gold medal swimmer. The rules were simple, 200 meters, freestyle, Brett’s best stroke, but also Boa’s. Natalia would time Brett, and Juliano would time Boa.

And what a race it was! I think Brett underestimated her, because for the first 50 meters, Boa was leading him by half a body’s length. And this lead was sustained until the final lap, when Brett had to kick it up to his most hardcore gear as he desperately tried to prevent his own humiliation. And right at the last 10 meters, he managed to tie his position and then win it by a mere 0.02 seconds, according to the stopwatches. And by the time Brett came out of the water, he was lying on the floor, panting, his face a deep tomato red, his chest rising and falling with every breath as if it was about to explode. Compared to when he won his four Olympic golds recently, where he was
laughing and celebrating and somersaulting in the water, his rivals almost 2-3 seconds behind him. He wasn’t celebrating now. It was more like a relieved acceptance. On the other hand, Boa just smirked at him when she emerged from the pool, casually doing bicycle crunches and Russian twists at the side.

“Sorry, I like to work my abs a little after some cardio,” she said nonchalantly.

“Are you…kidding me…? What…the hell…was THAT?” Brett said when he caught his breath, but still panting. “Who…ARE YOU?”

“I am Boa Shimada. And I’m a bodybuilder. One of the best,” Boa said, and continued with the 120th rep of her Russian twist.

So it was no surprise, that going into the Olympia weekend, Boa was the heavy favourite to win the women’s physique category. She knew this for a fact as well. The moment she disrobed herself in the pump-up room, all eyes were on her. She just ignored them all and got on with her business. Some say, while she didn’t look as big as the Women’s Bodybuilding competitors, she certainly looked just as ripped, if not better. Hell, if there was an overall category this year like in the 2001-2004 Miss Olympia, where the heavyweight bodybuilding champions went up against the lightweight champions, Boa would win hands-down. Taking size out of the equation, Boa had everything: from posing, to make-up, to bikinis, to elegance, to conditioning, to symmetry…she could basically humiliate the Miss Olympia (Women’s Bodybuilding) that year, Savannah Harrison.

And Savannah Harrison was no joke. She and her twin sister, Summer, had been dominating the women’s bodybuilding scene for the past 6 years, and they were only 28. They each had won three Miss Olympia titles, with the other twin always winning the runner’s up. Savannah won it in the first, fifth and sixth (current) years, and Summer won the second, third and fourth. They were a bodybuilding dynasty, their father, Bill “King Hercules” Harrison, winning eight Mr Olympia titles at his time, and their mother, Fiona “Hulkbuster” Harrison, winning twelve consecutive Miss Olympia titles, forcing Iris Kyle, Lenda Murray, Andrea Shaw and Margie Martin into early retirement. But combining their mother’s genes with their father’s, Savannah and Summer were bodybuilding machines, which was how these blonde bombshells managed to dominate the competition since they were 22. Even I, a heavyweight male bodybuilder, felt insecure standing next to them. They were the most massive, most muscular, most ripped, most unstoppable female bodybuilders in history, but on this Olympia day, people said Boa could beat them if there was a heavyweight vs lightweight (women’s physique) showdown.

At the post-awards press conference, one journalist asked Boa, still in her posing bikini, her hands  interlaced with mine, “Miss Shimada, now that you have won the Miss Physique Olympia, are you  looking at the ultimate Miss Olympia title next year?”

“Absolutely. Come this time next year, I will be the first girl in history to win every single women’s category in the Olympia,” Boa said.

“Do you see yourself ending the reign of the Harrison sisters? People say they are unstoppable!”

“Oh you poor thing,” Boa gave him a fake pitiful look, before striking her grand signature pose, The Boa Dynamite (see chapter 2), much to the gasps of awe from the audience, “look at me. Look at my body. Look at my muscles! Even in women’s physique, I am ripped. I am glorious. And I was  definitely holding back. Right now, I’m going all out. I am gonna get bigger, strrronger, and even more muscular. I will be the greatest female bodybuilder the world has ever seen. And to all the   female bodybuilders out there, especially Savannah and Summer Harrison, be afraid. Be very afraid. Because come this time next year, you will tremble, and you will be TERRIFIED by the sheer
dominance of my incredible physique.”

Note: the twins, Savannah and Summer, were inspired by Satin Steele by DC Matthews. Only,
Savannah and Summer are much bigger than Satin.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 4


In case y’all didn’t know, as the girls made the headlines: Boa winning the Miss Physique Olympia and announcing her promotion to the women’s bodybuilding division, and the Harrison twins continuing their dynasty, the Mr Olympia was pretty much overshadowed. It was surprising to me, because I had always thought that people liked the men’s contests more. Turns out, I was wrong. Anyway, that was my first Olympia outing, and despite me being one of the favourites, I only won second place, losing out to veteran, 35-year-old Jamal Hendrikson. It was only his second Mr Olympia title though, losing out to the eventual champion for about eight times before that. So for someone who lost more times than he had won, imagine my disappointment when I found out I didn’t beat him. But no matter, I was only 22, and my career could only take off from here.

The next day, I decided to reward myself with a pool day at the hotel, but was taken aback when I saw Boa all dressed up in her tiny sports bra and bikini bottoms, mixing two scoops of protein powder in a bottle.

“Heading to the gym babe? One day after the Olympia?” I asked.

“Well, if I say I’m gonna overthrow the Harrison twins in one year’s time, I better start immediately. I have a LOT of muscle to gain, and I have to look ripped while doing so. So that means, lots of strength training and lots of time under tension. I plan to workout three times a day. Strength training in the morning…high intensity, super heavy lifting. Gotta do it, if I wanna grow these babies,” she said, flexing her baseball-sized bicep, before giving it a passionate kiss, “they are 17 inches now. In 6 months, they will be 21 inches, and by Olympia next year, 25 inches. Then, in the afternoon is martial arts training. It would feel sooo good destroying my opponents, especially when I become this enormous, 220-pound giantess. Then at night, it will be heavy lifting session number 2, this time focusing on time under tension. High rep count, high set count. And I’m revamping my diet too. I’m eating 7 meals a day now, almost every two hours. And because I have to get HUGE, and put on INSANE amounts of muscle mass, I will be eating a lot of meat, a lot of eggs and a lot of protein. It would be deemed a failure if I don’t surpass 250-pounds of muscle. I already ordered a fortnight’s worth of Belgian Blue beef, the leanest most muscular cow there is. Pretty soon, I’ll end up as the human version of them!”

I had seen a Belgian Blue before on the internet, and yeah, they were like monster cows, the bodybuilder equivalent of the bovine species. They were huge, heavy, and super striated. Imagine all that muscle transferring to my babe over here. She wasn’t joking if she said she wanted to look like them.

“But babe,” I said, “you said you want 25 inch arms, and reach over 250 pounds, but do you think it’s possible for…you know…women? Especially without…you know…drugs?”

“Oh c’mon Mike, you underestimate me. When I set my mind on something, I will achieve it. Look at me,” she went into her ferocious Boa Dynamite pose, and I could see her point, “I am genetically gifted, and I workout like a MONSTER! I can definitely grow as BIG and RIPPED as I want. And my muscles aren’t just for show. I am strong too, super strong! I can already bench press 390 pounds for 20 reps, and my max is about 480 pounds. I can definitively outlift you if I wanted to. Hey, with you as my boyfriend, maybe I can use you as my progress chart. By this time next year, I will be as big, if not bigger than you!”

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed out.

I ate breakfast and got my ass down to the pool. It was like a low key bodybuilding convention, allthese fit and muscular people getting their tan or just cooling themselves off in the water. I recognized a couple of bikini competitors, and a few of the men’s Classic physique guys, and some of my fellow bodybuilding competitors whom I had just beaten less than 24 hours ago.

Despite me losing the title to Jamal, coming in second, I still had a pretty glorious body. It was no surprise that most of the pool goers stopped what they were doing and stared as I made my way across the patio. I tried to ignore them, but at the same time, couldn’t help puffing up my chest and strutting with my chin up just to give my onlookers what they were waiting for. It didn’t matter that I was looking super hot in my Aviator sunglasses, sporting a sparkling smile (I had my dentist to thank  for that), and a big ass package bulging from underneath my trunks. Yup, my dick was pretty famous. It was so famous, that adult film directors paid me almost 200 grand just to show it off in a 15 minute porn video. Of course, I took it. Ever since then, I lost count the number of girls I had stuffed my dick into, but it was almost 150. Until I met Boa that is. Ever since then, Boa was all the pussy I needed.

A couple of bikini models waved at me, and I rewarded them with a simple bicep flex. They giggled like schoolgirls. As usual, they couldn’t take their eyes off my enormous crotch. I noticed my gym buddies, all Mr Olympia competitors, relaxing by the lounge chairs with two gorgeous Figure competitors and four Wellness competitors ogling over them.

“Hey Mike! There’s my champion!” greeted Felix Vasquez, the sixth place winner in my category. He had a Wellness lady sitting on each of his thighs, both in their tiny bikinis, their hands caressing his muscles non-stop.

“Second place, but still not a bad performance for a rookie!” said Hunter Bull, eighth place winner. Two Figure competitors were on either side of him, kissing and biting and licking his neck while a third Figure girl massaged his mountainous shoulders.

“Well, I would say it was a bit political. You looked better than Jamal. But the judges decided to give him the title ‘cuz he was in the game longer than you,” explained Carl Schneider, third place winner, but he was miles behind me, though not unimpressive himself. He was lying next to the newly crowned Miss Figure Olympia, Missy Ruscott (from Chapter 1), a girl I had just fucked in my gym not too long ago. She was ignoring me, instead, focusing her attention on feeling Carl’s solid six-pack.

As I was putting in sunscreen, I noticed a sudden silence from the crowd again, followed by the thumping footsteps of something heavy coming my way. When I turned to look, I was met with a sight straight out of the Baywatch intro, albeit, with characters much more ripped and muscular. Four of the biggest ladies I had ever seen in my entire life, all in skimpy bikinis (showing some very busty cleavages) and silky, glowing skin. Savannah and Summer Harrison led the group, their Raybans making them look totally badass, if their massively shredded physiques hadn’t already.

Savannah flicked her hair, her huge biceps twisting as she did so. The other two ladies flanking them were third placed Miss Olympia, Alexandra Stevens and fourth placed Brianna Sorenson. From afar, disregarding their bodies and just looking at their faces, they looked like your typical sorority  cheerleaders and prom queens, their aura of grace and confidence just scintillating, but when you turn to take in their full package: the insane muscular built and the well-separated details of their dense, hard flesh, you would be frightened. It was a sorority, but for lifting and bodybuilding. Which was why their gym was named Phi Kappa Olympia. Indeed, these four girls had been trained by Fiona Harrison (the twins’ mother) since they were fourteen years old, with the sole purpose of defending the Harrison legacy. Now at 28, they had their legacy. Savannah and Summer may have dominated the top two, but Alexandra and Brianna had completed the top four ever since their debut. On their own, each one of them could single-handedly sweep aside Lenda Murray, Iris Kyle, Yaxeni Oriquen and Andrea Shaw in their prime. These four girls were in a league of their own. From afar, they looked intimidating, so you could imagine my discomfort when I realized they were catwalking their way towards me.

“Mike Hancock,” Savannah started, crossing her arms in front of her to reveal a beefy, and vascular set of forearms.

The massive Amazons stood in front of me, silently taunting me with their envy-invoking bodies. I tried to compose myself, telling myself that I, too, am a bodybuilder and was just as big as them…right? It was hard to tell. These girls were pretty huge. It was hard to distinguish Savannah and Summer, being identical twins. Both were equally ripped, equally huge, equally conditioned, equally symmetrical (it was a true mystery how the judges managed to pick a winner out of the two of them last night), with waist-length blonde hair, ocean blue eyes and dimple-cheeked smiles. They were both about my height, 6 foot 4, and at least 300 pounds. At least. In fact, all four girls were over 6 feet tall and weighed almost the same. I noticed their shadows looming over me, blocking out the sun, as they stepped closer. The only thing that differentiated the twins was that Summer had a cute beauty mark just below her left eye. Lucky for her (and everyone else), it made her very attractive.

Alexandra was a half-Caucasian, quarter African-American, quarter Latino girl from New York, and the reason why I knew so much about her was that I slept with her before. You can’t blame me because with that many genetic varieties, she was quite the beauty. She was just as muscular now as she was back then. In the absence of Savannah and Summer, who felt that the Arnold was too easy, Alexandra took home the title and took a picture next to me. You know the story after that. It was my first time with a woman that massive and muscular, it was as if I was feeling my own muscles. But her olive tan skin was much smoother, and her long, lush brown hair was a treat for my fingers,
plus that delicious pussy of hers. Unlike most of the girls I fucked, including Boa, who preferred their labias cleanly shaved, Alexandra was all natural, and it was a truly eye-opening experience for me. I didn’t know I liked hairy pussies, I mean clean ones were still phenomenal but Alexandra had her bush nicely trimmed, well-groomed, with a waft of perfume, so when she came, fuck…her cum was dripping like a freshly-squeezed orange, and I sucked every single drop of that nice, tasty cum of hers. And the thing is, she had this dominating aura in bed. You only get to do things that she willed you to do, and if you disobey, she had a way of pinning you to the bed with those strong, muscular
arms of hers, and she will fuck you in a variety of modified wrestling positions.

“Why did a gorgeous lady like you take up bodybuilding? I mean, you are perfect, you could go into modelling or acting, but why bodybuilding?” I asked her when we were pillow-talking.

“I was a pretty athletic girl when I was young. I was a junior gymnastics champion and swimmer. One day, Fiona and her daughters saw me training, and saw a potential in me. She took me to her gym and they all flexed for me. Fiona was a six-time Miss Olympia then, and she just looked so magnificent. Like she could destroy the Hulk! Thus, her nickname, Hulkbuster. Even her daughters, despite them being the same age as me, fourteen, they were already as ripped as a Women’s Physique champion. So, seeing how powerful and strong they looked, I told myself, I wanted to look like that. I wanted to be dominant. I wanted to be massive! And I never looked back since.”

Brianna had a rather unfortunate story. Her father left when she was 2 and her mother was a raging alcoholic. So she spent a lot of time on the streets, and as she grew up to be this fiery green-eyed brunette, she dropped out of school to work in an illegal strip club, as an underaged dancer. However, Fiona picked her up from the streets when she was 14, and after just one day at the gym, she was hooked. She was mesmerized at the confidence that women bodybuilders possessed, and the emasculating power that they demonstrated. Fiona, and her 14-year-old daughters, were even outlifting the biggest guys in their gym. And these weren’t guys who had never worked out before.
These guys were big, mostly college football players and wrestlers. One time, one of these menwanted to use the bench, but Fiona’s pair of 80-pound dumbbells were resting on it. But the guy, star quarterback for UCLA, needed two hands to move just ONE of the dumbbells, and even then he was struggling, waddling and straining his back as he did so.

“Summer, please help that poor young man with our dumbbells, will ya?” Fiona asked.

“Of course, Mom! Here big guy, let me get that,” Summer said, grabbing the 80-pound dumbbells from the guy, one in each hand, her veins and striations just exploding with power.” Remember, she was only 14, but already she was as tall the the guy, like 5 foot 9, and already as muscular as prime Lenda Murray. “Sorry, how inconsiderate of us. We shouldn’t have left our SUPER heavy dumbbells lying around, especially when not many guys can lift them as easily as us GIRLS. We like lifting heavy, that’s how we got these HUGE muscles. Let me show you.”

And Summer cranked up 15 reps of bicep curls on each arm, with controlled breathing and perfect form. Then, she calmly set the dumbbells down and flexed her powerfully pumped 18-inch biceps, utterly shaming the college football player in front of her, who was almost 10 years older.

“Oooh, that felt as if it was lightweight. I think I need something heavier for a REAL workout. How about you? You look to be easily over 190 pounds…” and without hesitating, Summer grabbed the college dude by the collar and curled him for a total of 6 reps with her right arm. Once she was done, she just shoved his body over to the barbell racks, which he stumbled and caused a few bars to tumble onto the floor.

“THAT’S more like it,” she said, admiring and kissing her bicep peak in the mirror, which was now almost an extra inch bigger.

This show of female superiority just turned Brianna on so much. The rest was history. Summer and Savannah gained more than twice the muscle mass when that happened, and Brianna was only two pounds lighter now, which meant she was just as big as the two most muscular women in history. Brianna’s demand in her strip club skyrocketed the more muscle mass she gained. Who knew that so many men loved to be seduced by a dominant female bodybuilder. When she was big and strong enough, one night, she rounded up all five bouncers, the two owners of the club, plus her manager, and locked the doors to her room. She stripped naked, and single-handedly manhandled all 8 men into submission, before straight-up raping them and forcing them to worship her muscles and vagina. This was revenge for years of abuse and exploitation since she was a child. Now, with them at her mercy, she took control of the club, enslaving all 8 men to do her bidding. Sometimes, they prepped her meals, or cleaned her home, or painted her nails, or massaged her body. She was still performing, despite her being an IFBB pro, in which every first Friday of the month was FBB night (FBB was a double entrande, meaning Female Bodybuilder or Friday Bodybuilder Babes). Savannah, Summer and Alexandra made appearances several times, and FBB night was always a hit.

Anyways, enough backstory. Back to the present.

“Boys,” Summer acknowledged the other guys, “and my fellow Wellness and Figure colleagues.”

“Congratulations on an amazing show,” Savannah continued.

“Congratulations to you guys too,” I said.

“Thank you, Mike. Your contest was a close one. Unfortunately for you, the judges decided to go with Jamal. Never mind, we hope you bounce back stronger next year,” Summer said. “I could win the Miss Olympia, and you win Mr Olympia, and who knows, maybe we can do a posedown on the stage…”

“Let’s not get carried away, sis. Anyways, now that the Olympia is over, we would like to invite you all to a bodybuilding party tonight in our gym, Phi Kappa Olympia, right across town,” Savannah announced.

“Thanks for the invite. But what’s a bodybuilding party?” I asked.

“Oh it’s just a party, but more geared towards people like us,” Savannah explained, going into an abdominals pose and flexing her left bicep, “instead of booze, we serve protein shakes. For snacks we have steaks, chicken and turkey, and for games, it’s mostly weight lifting games, posing challenges and feats of strength.”

“Sounds fun, we’ll be there,” I accepted.

“Awesome!” Summer said, and then, out of nowhere, fondled my crotch. “Mmm…I hope you’ll save me some of that big dick for me tonight…you’re just packing!”

I tensed, before going into a hesitant grin, “Hehe, I’m honoured Summer,” I paused just to make sure I spot her beauty mark (yes!), “but I’m dating Boa Shimada.”

“Ah, the Women’s Physique champion. We heard she challenged us. Why don’t you bring her along, and we can see what’s she made of?”

“Sure,” I said, and the four girls strutted away, as amazingly as they came. I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the blooming pumps and striations in their beefy, defined calves, hamstrings and glutes, taunting me with every firm step they took with their bare feet. The demonic lumps and bumps making out the monstrous back of theirs, inciting a chill down my spine.

Well, turns out, Boa was not interested in attending the party. Something about not wanting to meet her rivals until the Olympia next year (she didn’t want to see them as friends, otherwise she would want to feel happy for them if she lost, or more likely, sad for them if THEY had lost). She was all about the victory, and every aspect of it must be ruthless, and no holds barred. Absolutely no room for friendship and camaraderie. Plus, she said, she didn’t want to miss her nightly workoutsession.

“Tell them this. I want them to know I mean business,” she said. “But you have fun babe!”

The guys and I left at 7pm. The dress code for the party were posing trunks for men, and posing bikinis for the ladies. It was a small, private party, but there were at least 80 IFBB Pro bodybuilders in attendance.

“Welcome to the party, boys,” Alexandra greeted us. “Help yourselves to some protein shakes. There’s freshly grilled steak on the table, and a bowl of hard-boiled egg whites. If you want  entertainment, Jamal Hendrickson is having a flexing contest in that corner, or you can challenge Brianna to an arm-wrestling match. Although that is not advisable. She has already beaten Kai Greene, Brandon Curry and Phil Heath tonight. Now she is taking on Shawn Rhoden with her right arm, and Big Ramy with her left, at the same time.”

I noticed a King-sized bed on a platform in the centre of the room. Lounging on it was Savannah, in a diamond tiara, which made her look like a beauty queen, if not for the hulking musculature in which the gorgeous face was associated with. She was curling a 120 pound dumbbell in her right arm. Her sister was lying next to her, and with them, a bevy of at least 15 of the fittest ladies in the bodybuilding industry, from Women’s Physique competitors to Bikini and Wellness, all in their skimpy posing suits, all swarming on the bed to worship their muscled queens.

“Whoa, that bed looks out of place here,” Carl Schneider commented.

Alexandra giggled. “Oh, that bed is part of a huge surprise tonight.”

We thought Brianna arm-wrestling two former Mr Olympias to be interesting, so we headed off over to the table. Looking at the situation, I think Brianna was just toying with them. Shawn Rhoden was almost out of breath and Big Ramy’s face was a full tomato-red. Brianna, on the other hand, was smirking at them, her elbows still firmly planted in the starting position as the two giant men tried to force her arms down.

“C’mon boys! You’re supposed to be bodybuilding legends! Hurry up! Push! Push! After all, I’m just a pretty young lady…WITH MUSCLES MORE MASSIVE THAN YOURS!”

It was true. As big as Ramy and Shawn were, they were a different generation already. Mr Olympias now need to be bigger than them if they wanted to stand a chance. Women too. Comparing Brianna’s flexed arm with Ramy and Shawn’s, it was clear that while their arms were huge, Brianna had the edge. But whatever strength was associated with that enormous 25-inch arm of hers, she wasn’t showing it in the arm-wrestling match, oh, she was DEFINITELY holding back. Miss Wellness Olympia, Gloria Morales patted on Brianna’s thickly-capped shoulders, glistening from her beaded, sexy, salty sweat like the rest of her skin. Gloria was waving a bottle of protein shake in front of Brianna.

“Babe, I got that Vanilla Iced Protein Shake you wanted.”

“Thanks Gloria. Okay, boys, this babe needs some tender, love and care so it’s time to end this.”

Brianna swiftly slammed Big Ramy’s hand onto the table, and then finished off Shawn with menacing ease. She grabbed the protein drink from Gloria and downed the entire 800ml bottle like a can of beer.

“Ahhhh…refreshing. I’m so pumped right now!”

Brianna declared, smashing a front double biceps with her 25-inch arms. It was such a turn on, no wonder Gloria just pounced on her, stroking those
massive peaks and kissing her date for the night. Brianna responded by slapping Gloria’s juicy, muscular ass, packed with a dense structure of gluteus muscles and rippling hamstrings. No wonder she was the Wellness champion.

“Who’s next for the Viking Queen?” Brianna demanded.

That was when I noticed a tap on my shoulder. I was taken aback by the glorious sight in front of me. It was Summer Harrison, a 120-pound dumbbell in one arm. She curled them, taunting (or tempting) me with those exploding biceps of hers. Behind her was her sister, chatting up Jamal.

“Hey there, big guy. Don’t you wanna take on Brianna? She needs a challenge…been looking for one all night. And you look soooo big tonight,” Summer teased, brushing her free hand over her silky blonde hair, like those shampoo commercials on TV, the candy-floss pink lipstick highlighting those luscious lips of hers.
 
“No volunteers?” Brianna challenged. “Then I pick you and YOU!” She pounted at my friends, Felix Vasquez and Hunter Bull. Of course, being chosen against their will, they tried to graciously decline. But the crowd wanted a contest so they pressured them on, chanting their names. Felix and Hunter were in the new generation of male bodybuilders, so naturally, they were bigger and heavier than Ramy and Shawn. So it WAS gonna be a challenge for Brianna. Eventually, they accepted.

[Apley44]

Two chapters back to back? Awesome!

[quick]

I just LOVE this, and it's only getting better by introducing more ladies that can actually challenge Boa.  I hope she doesn't just obliterate them, I feel like it's more interesting with actual competition.

Stories like this where the girl(s) get huge just by working out are my absolute favorite.  No magic or science nonsense, though I like those too, just pumping iron like a boss.