My Big Boa

[Wookey]

Disappointed with Mike’s lack of ambition. Being satisfied with second should not be in his vocabulary. And he has a partner who wants to help him improve.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 5


“Come on, give me a posedown!” Brianna ordered. They complied. The three of them got into a crab pose most muscular, and despite being a woman, Brianna wasn’t too far off. Just like the two men, she was a kind of like a “stud” herself, a female hunk of vascularity and size, the ripples of her striations blooming with every pump. By the time she was done, she was definitely larger than she was before. Maybe not bigger than the two men, but certainly comparable. And she was jacked as fuck. And this was just the fourth place winner for the Miss Olympia last night. I could only imagine the beauty of the physique that Savannah, Summer and Alexandra sported. Funny how a simple  most muscular pose could buff her up almost immediately. That did a lot to the morale of the armwrestling contest, because Brianna’s size and confidence, it was definitely intimidating.

“Let’s make this more interesting,” she suggested, and then out of nowhere, leapt into the air and wrapped her thunderously ripped thighs over Hunter Bull’s neck, and wrestled him to the ground in a neck scissor, Hunter’s life at her mercy. She then propped up both hands on the table, and in a ridiculously jaw-dropping show of titanic core strength, lifted Hunter’s body off the ground using her legs. She was now balancing on the table using both her arms in a push-up position, her legs in midair, clamped against Hunter’s neck, her body horizontally parallel to the floor.

“If you wanna free you friend here, Felix, you have to beat me!” Brianna ordered.

“What the fuck! You’ll kill him!” Felix yelled outrageously.

“Then you better hurry up then!”

They placed their right elbows onto the table and pushed. Felix was clearly a much more difficult challenge for Brianna, as compared to Shawn and Big Ramy, but she was holding her own. Although not for long. In a huff and a puff, after almost two minutes of pushing, Felix gradually managed to force Brianna’s hand almost two inches off the surface of the table. With gritted teeth, Brianna tried to desperately keep her hand off above the table, and it wasn’t easy, considering she was also using her core strength to balance her body horizontally and clamping down on Hunter’s neck with her legs.

“I WILL NOT BE BEATEN BY A GIRL!” Felix screamed.

That was when Brianna burst into laughter. I had to tell ya, I was confused, because it was a complete 180 degree change in expression from the desperate grunts she was demonstrating just moments ago.

She grinned sinisterly at Felix. “Do you actually think you have any sense of control over what’s happening right now? Let me show you.”

And everyone gasped as she tightened her grip on Felix’s hand. Then, in one smooth, and almost effortless motion, Brianna launched her hand back up to the starting position, against a straining Felix Vasquez, Top 6 in the Mr Olympia. I heard Summer chuckling next to me.

“What a sweet, naïve boy your friend is,” she mocked.

“Hurry up Vasquez…your friend is gasping for air! All I have to do is flex my quads a bit…” she did so, her thighs just billowing with sinews and striations, and I heard Hunter choke up a bit.

Felix was desperate, but Brianna’s arm was like an immovable anchor, as if it was bolted onto the table, those giant, shot-put sized bicep peaks just bursting with power, the pencil-thick veins just throbbing. She stroked that huge dense lump of power with her free hand, gently tapping over the veins with her finger just to show us how juicy they were. At this point she was balancing her body only with her elbows and that was just incredible.

“Gloria, babe, why don’t you get the tape and measure how BIG these guns are!”

Gloria obeyed, giggling nervously like a schoolgirl as she wrapped the tape measure around that giant arm.

“Oh my God! Its 27 inches! You’re bigger than you were this morning!”

“Well, I would be bigger if I had a proper challenge! Who am I kidding? I was so stupid! With guns these big, these men over here never stood a chance! I’ll tell you what Vasquez, I will release your friend here, if you beat me with two arms, and you don’t even have to go all the way. If you get me past the halfway mark, I’ll give you the victory.”

Felix, in a desperate attempt to save Hunter from Brianna’s killer quads, reinforced his tiring right arm with his left, but it was no use. Brianna was like a tank!

After like one minute of worthless pushing, Brianna gave up. “Oh my God man, you’re just pathetic! Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I am a girl, but I’m every bit just as BIG and RIPPED as you, only I am DEFINITELY wayyyy stronger! Because I don’t have your men’s testosterone surge, I had to work TWICE as hard to achieve muscles as huge as these! And that means, I had to lift TWICE as heavy. Which means, I am STRONGER than you! MUCH. STRONGER!”

And with one powerful grip, I heard the cracking of bones, a scream of pain from Felix as his hand crushed beneath her grip, before Brianna just straight up slammed BOTH his hands against the table, shattering the tabletop and breaking the two legs on that side. And it was no wooden table. It was fucking MARBLE! Two inch thick, genuine marble.

Eventually she released Henry’s limp body, much to the cheers of the predominantly female crowd. I glanced at Summer in the corner of my eye, okay, she was smug. She knew this was going to happen.

Brianna celebrated with a powerful ¾ back pose, showing a magnificent but terrifying tapestry of rumbling muscles that made up the sheer enormity of her back, shoulders and arms, before transitioning to a rear lat spread that demonstrated even more size and power.

“Look at me! I’m huge! How do you possibly think you stood a chance against me?” She said, spitting on Vasquez’s writhing body.

If this was Brianna, I didn’t wanna find out what Savannah and Summer would do.

But it was as if they could read my mind.

“Now that Brianna has had her fun, why don’t my sister and Alexandra join me in a popular game we like to play called The Bear Hug Challenge?” Savannah announced.

Summer danced joyfully like a girly muppet.

“And our challengers will be our little friends in the Mr Olympia! The top 3 are here, against our opposite number. Since I am the reigning Miss Olympia, Jamal, what do you say? Is the reigning Mr Olympia stronger than the Miss Olympia?”

“Ooh, that means I will be facing you, Mike,” Summer said, twisting into an abdominals pose while showing off her huge left bicep. She then stretched out one of her legs, and tightened all her muscles, rotating it to show me just how muscularly developed her legs were, with calves the size of rugby balls, quads wider than tree trunks, tempting me by running her hand seductively over that thick, hard flesh, before feeling those nicely ripped buttocks the size of volleyballs. As her hand went all the way down to her ankles, she was in the best position for a moon pose, and looking at those cuts in her hamstrings and glutes, I wasn’t sure if I could actually top that.

And it goes without saying that Alexandra would be up against her fellow second-runner up in the Mr Olympia, Carl Schneider.

“I don’t give a fuck, let’s show these bitches who’s boss!” Jamal said.

That was when the three girls ripped off their bikinis, showing everyone their throbbing pink pussies and luscious boobs. For a female bodybuilder, they were actually pretty big, made even more perkier with the formidable piece of cinderblocks on their chests they called pecs. I’m telling you, they had both tit cleavages that would make porn stars jealous, and perfectly sculpted pec cleavages that would make male bodybuilders tremble with insecurity. I think their pecs would look as grand as mine, if not hidden behind those thick boobs.

“What’s all this? Get your fucking clothes back on!” Jamal scolded.

“Oh no, nudity is our secret weapon. It just brings out our primal and animalistic nature in a battle.”

“Fuck you!” And Jamal ripped off his own underwear, showing an enormous big black cock. “See this? You’ll be sucking my big ass cock to sleep tonight, you bitch!”

Carl and I did the same. And I could see Summer’s face revel with hunger as I revealed my own enormous package, all 10-inches of its glory.

“Posedown!” Savannah announced. And the room was greeted by a magnificent display of God and Goddess-like musculature from the top 3 best male and female bodybuilders in the world. With Summer next to me, she mirrored every pose I did. I struck a most muscular, and she did the same, all those glorious muscles bursting from her flesh. She was jacked to the core, and she knew it. A thighs and abdominals, and she could straight up shame me with that chiselled midsection of hers, with an eight-pack, Adonis belt, serratus and obliques that would destroy that on any Greek statue.

“Mmm…huuuurrrr…oh yeah. Oh my God! Mike, look at your huge boner! Like what you see, hmm?” Summer teased.

“Please, no, Summer. I feel very uncomfortable with you talking like that. I have a girlfriend.”

“What does she have anything to do with this?”

Eventually, it was time for the bear hug challenge. Both competitors would bear hug each other with all their might, and the loser would be whoever taps out first. We squared off against our opponents (Jamal vs Savannah, me vs Summer, Carl vs Alexandra), and when the bell dinged, we charged.

Summer and I were almost the same size, and same height, so I wrapped my arms around her lower back, while she clutched at my torso. I felt my cock rubbing against my abs and hers, and oh my, what a feeling it was, the shaft and glans feeling those bumpy, hard, washboard abs of hers. There were two pencil-thick veins snaking their way over the lower slabs, and I had to say, no matter how much I hated saying it, it was a turn on. She was a lean, mean muscle machine with almost zero ounces of fat in her body, and the details and crevices of her perfectly built abdominals were a testament of that. She was only 28, but almost two decades of weighted leg raises, (LITERALLY) millions of bicycle crunches, and thousands of hours of weighted Russian twists later, she had masterfully sculpted something so glorious, with the canvas that was her body. And now my dick was pressed up against it.

“Ooohhhh, your dick feels soooo good against my abs. Don’t tell me you don’t love it too? Let me help you.” And to my surprise, her beefy strong arms tightened their grip around my torso, and she effortlessly lifted by 300+ pound body off the ground, shaking me up and down to rub my penis against that shredded eight-pack of hers.

I wanted to scream as my ribs threatened to give way to the Grade A hydraulic clamp that were her arms. I think not even a python’s paralysing strangulation would be as deadly as hers. As I tried to get my voice out, Jamal already did it for me. At my side, I heard the sound of bones cracking, as Jamal yelled in horror. For all his hardcore Youtube videos of him breaking Ronnie Coleman’s lifting records, he was no match against the ruthless power of Savannah Harrison. She dropped his aching body to the floor, before striking a truly menacing javelin pose, with muscles just as magnificent as Summer’s, accentuating a perfect V-taper physique (I think her back and chest were almost 2.5 times wider in circumference than her waist), a statement of her monstrously dominant strength and muscle mass.

And not long after that, Carl tapped out, just as Alexandra was about to finish him off with a killer blow (or squeeze). However, once he was released, he couldn’t help but pounce on her, this time not to attack, but to smother her with an endless stream of kisses and licks. Eventually they both fell on the floor, both their massive bodies tumbling with a loud thud, both engrossed in their animalistic love-making to care about what anyone thinks.

“Mike! Please, if you don’t surrender now, I’m gonna break your ribs. Don’t underestimate me, I can easily do that! I can give you a list of guys, and they’re all huge! I’m not even using half my strength now,” Summer said.

“Arrrggghh, oooffff, okay! Okay! I surrender!” And Summer released me, my entire body out of breath.

“Now I can have you all to myself! You look so ripped and muscular, I just need to have you. My own big hard muscles…rubbing against yours. And that dick! I will make you come so hard inside me. You have no idea, how strong my vagina is!” Summer cradled me over to the bed in the centre of the room, and now I realised what it was for. It was for me to be raped.

“Come on you pathetic fuck! Give me that big black cock of yours!” Savannah said to Jamal. And right in front of everyone, she just completely destroyed him. She flung and wrestled him all over the room. She grabbed his ankles, and dangling him upside down, deep throated his cock. Then, she tossed him across the room and pounced on his giant body. Then she lifted his massive nude body over her head, and did squats with his 350-pound body, her pussy dripping with cum. She then mopped the juice off with his body. She even had a strap on, twice the size of his 8-inch cock, and completely fucked the hell out of his ass. She didn’t even care if he was injured, she was all about
the dominance, and the climax. And what a climax she had. By the time she was done, Jamal was completely soaked in her cum, as if he had dipped in a pool full of that milky vaginal juice.

I was afraid I was gonna suffer the same fate. “Please, Summer, don’t do this.”

“No, I want you soooo bad. I have fucked so many guys before, but they were so tiny compared to me, even though they were bodybuilders. Every time, they would say my massive body was so heavy! I would crush them! And then I was so strong, and I end up breaking all of their bones! No more! You have suck thick, strong, hard muscles, I’m sure they are like a fucking armour on you. I can go as hard as I want!”

And boy did she go hard. She pinned me to the bed so tight, that she almost broke my wrists. She had this feral instinct when she fucked me, her strong, muscular vagina engulfing my cock, and oh my God! It was like being clamped by a door. Her thrusts were as fast and fast like a literal jackhammer! By the time she was done, my penis was a dark blue, as the blood was restricted by the powerful contractions of her pussy. She had the power to stop me from cumming just by squeezing her vagina. Then, she would sit on my face, and force me to suck her pussy like a clam. Her juices forcing her way into my throat. She then gave me a “bicep-job”, whereby she would flex and unflex her huge, shot-put sized bicep (and just as hard as a shot-put) against my penis. And then, in a show of strength, grip my penis between her forearm and bicep, and while still flexed, lift my 300+ pound body off the ground. But more than I was willing to admit, I would say the best was her “glute-job”. She would force the shaft of my penis along her butt crack, and fucking flex her glutes. Imagine, those two powerful orbs of steel, the size of volleyballs, clamped down against your huge ass boner. I came, I came hard alright. And I wasn’t proud of it. But I was weakened, and she was much stronger than me. I had no way of escaping. Her grips were unrelenting and she demonstrated a ferocity that sent lions back to their dens.

When she was done, she gave me a long passionate kiss. “I love you, Mike.”

Oh no, fuck! Please don’t go there. But I was too weak to reply.

“Hey sis, you look like you’re enjoying yourself. It’s my turn now,” Savannah demanded.

Summer turned to reveal a big beige strap-on. “Alright sis. I can fuck his back, while you take his front.”

“Perrrrfect,” Savannah said mischievously.

“Hi Mike! Check out my Queen-sized cock!” She fondled over it vigorously as if she was jerking off.

“It’s bigger than yours, and I’m gonna fuck you with it! I’m gonna fuck you soooo hard, you won’t be able to hold your shit for days!”

The last thing I remember before passing out was Summer brutally stuffing that 12-inch strap-on into my asshole, all the while locking me in a Nelson hold, her powerful legs wrapped around minelike a killer python, opening them up to receive the next merciless pussy that was her twin sister’s. As Savannah’s vagina received my 10-inch cock, I felt the full brunt of her 350 pound body crushing me against the rock solid flesh of her also 350 pound twin sister behind me, and there I was, stuffed between the two most massively muscular women in the world, as they hungrily fucked and smothered me against my will. I was about to cum, but Savannah had such amazing muscle control over her pussy, that I was prevented from doing so, I was worried that my penis would explode! I was completely at her mercy, and Summer’s as well. The twins demonstrated an insatiable lust that no man could fulfil, and I bore the brunt of the consequences, their hungry grunts, ferocious roars and seductive wolf-like growls sending shivers down my spine as I felt the penetration of Summer’sgiant strap-on cock in my ass, and the rhythmic mechanical contractions of Savannah’s muscular vagina over my penis. They could annihilate my dick, destroy my ass and fucking slaughter me if they wanted to, so I could count myself lucky when I woke up the next day, still alive, and in one piece.

[cMence]

New post please!

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 6

When I woke up the next morning, almost everyone was gone. It was only me and Summer, lying on the giant Cal King bed in the middle of her gym. Savannah was nowhere to be found. More than I cared to admit, being snuggled next to a rock-solid girl filled with 300 pounds of raw muscle, it was a pretty sexy feeling, especially with my equally ripped muscles brushing against hers. Her silky blonde hair smelled of cum, and at the same time, pheromones as well. But nothing could release me from the trauma of last night. I almost died. The twins just gang banged me, and I almost had my back snapped and organs squashed by Summer’s relentless bear hug. Careful not to wake her, I quietly sneaked out of bed, got dressed and hurried back to my hotel.

Walking past the hotel gym, I saw my girlfriend Boa, her face showing nothing but focused determination, doing 385-pound barbell rows with perfect form. By her 20th rep, she let out a badass grunt, before letting the heavy ass barbell drop to the ground, the metallic plates smashing against the floor with a thunderous thud. She was wearing a cropped stringer vest that was hanging over her perky boobs, with oversized arm holes exposing an abundance of back muscles that could rival that of Yujiro Hanma, a V-taper that would make most male bodybuilders green with envy, her shredded midsection demonstrating an incredible tapestry of abs, serratus and obliques. As I approached, she proudly flexed out a perfect back double bicep, admiring the pump in her back muscles after that brutal set. It was hard to believe a supermodel former Miss Bikini Olympia like her could pack up her body with that much muscle, to the point that her figure now looked like a Male Classic Physique champion but with boobs.

But the woman standing next to her…that was what drove me crazy. For one moment, I thought I saw Savannah or Summer Harrison, whom I just left in their gym mere 20 minutes ago. But closer inspection showed that this lady exuded a certain level of composed ferocity than the twins’ brute strength. If Savannah and Summer Harrison were The Hulk or Venom, this lady was Emma Frost, but five times more ripped. Calm, calculative but ruthless nonetheless. Due to the similarity in features, she could be the twins’ older sister, but the twins had no older sister. This was the breeder, the creator, the mother. This lady was Fiona Harrison.

Fiona was retired for almost 6 years (as soon as her daughters debuted at age 22) but right now, in her early 50s, she barely looked a day over 30. A mega cougar in her own right. Why mega? Because a real cougar could pounce on her, claws brandishing, fangs glinting, but Fiona Harrison could easily wrestle it to the ground with her bare hands and crush every single bone in the animal’s body. How do I know if that’s true? That’s because it happened. In 2005, Fiona Harrison went on national television and wrestled a male lion, a jaguar and a cougar at the same time and emerged victorious over the three giant cats. She then ordered the cougar and jaguar stuffed (which now hung over her fireplace) while the lion was skinned and turned into a cloak, in which she would use to conceal her muscles before a show – the lion’s head as her helmet. And when the emcee called out her name, Fiona would rip off the lion-cloak and show off a grotesquely-sculpted body, built to the core with nothing but pure, hard muscle. She destroyed those feline predators with such ease, that calling her the “Lionkiller” wouldn’t do her justice. She could have beaten the Hulk, which was why Fiona Harrison was nicknamed “Hulkbuster”.

Standing next to Boa, coaching her, inspecting her every form, it was like watching a legend creating a new champion. Like Mr Miyagi training Daniel in the Karate Kid, or Yoda training Luke in Star Wars. Only now, it was the Hulkbuster, training Boa Shimada. The Hulkbuster looked nothing like a retired female bodybuilder. I’m talking about a woman, who won 12 consecutive Miss Olympia titles, drove Iris Kyle into retirement, and broke Nataliya Amazonka’s shoulder in arm wrestling. Right now, she was wearing a golden yellow microkini which did little to conceal those firm, 36E boobs, jutting out from two titanium plates of muscle-bound flesh known as her pec majors, continuing as two pumpkin-sized delts before blooming into 23-inch arms, filled with a terrifying set of veins and striations. I couldn’t even begin to explain her tightly-chiselled eight-pack, mountainous and tree-trunk thighs. She was a beautiful monster and if she wanted to go up to the Olympia yesterday, she would have given her daughters a run for their money. She was not as big as modern mass monsters like Savannah, Sienna, Alexandria or Brianna, but even at over 50 years old and 6 years retired, she could easily beat Iris Kyle and Andrea Shaw in their prime.

“Come on, seventeen…eighteen, nineteen, twenty! Yes! Atta girl!” Fiona praised as Boa completed her 4th and final set on the barbell rows, this time at 420 pounds. “Now give me a back double bicep.”

Boa obeyed, cranking up a formidable back double bicep pose fit for a male Olympia bodybuilder. Only now, it was on a girl. She may have just won the Miss Physique Olympia two days ago, but in just that two days, she had surpassed that threshold and was convincingly stepping into female open bodybuilding category. Fiona struck her own back double bicep and she just completely outclassed her new apprentice, but not for long, because I could see, Boa was making huge gains.

“Looked who just came in,” Fiona said when she saw me. “Mike Hancock. So you just walk around with no shirt on all the time?”

“Well you walk around in your bikini all the time,” I rebutted.

“I don’t blame ya. When you have a body as ripped as ours, you would always wanna show it off,” Fiona said, checking her side chest in the mirror that was fit for an Olympia showdown. “Isn’t that right Boa?”

“Yes! When I get super huge, I’m never wearing any clothes again! EVERYONE should see my muscles!” Boa said, admiring her own ripped reflection in the mirror, bringing her hands together for a crab pose most muscular that could put Chris Bumstead and Frank Zane to absolute shame.

Boa then turned to me, “Babe, you wouldn’t believe what Fiona just offered me. She’s in town to see her daughters in the Olympia, but I’m so happy to have ran into her this morning. She saw me train with all these heavy ass weights and she was so impressed! She offered me a place to train in her own institute!”

I knew what she was talking about. When Fiona was in her prime, winning her 5th Miss Olympia title, and getting so much money from her prize, and modelling contracts and sponsorships, literally she had too much money to spend. So she decided to open the New Themyscira Institute, a training centre for the top 1% most hardcore aspiring female bodybuilders in the country. Of course, the top 1% in her own mind because she led her own scout team. And trainees must be no older than 40 years old when they were first offered a position. Fiona was very particular about age, because she believed any age 40 or younger were the prime age of female muscle building, and the younger the girls, the easier it was to train and groom them. And you couldn’t argue with her results. Their scientists were at the forefront of female bodybuilding research, focusing on female bodily structures, psychology and physiology to maximise muscle growth. Their earliest graduates and trainees went on to surpass every single threshold of female bodybuilding. They were Savannah, Summer, Alexandria and Brianna. Now, the institute hosted almost 200 female trainees, all aspiring to knock each other off the perch and achieve a level of female muscularity unlike any other before them.

“That’s great babe! When are you starting?” I said.

“The day after tomorrow.”
Eventually, I didn’t tell Boa about my traumatic rape experience in the hands (or pussies) of her new mentor’s daughters. One part of me felt super embarrassed to be ruthlessly dominated by a pair of women, even though they were freakishly muscular. The second part of me didn’t want to ruin her big day. I wasn’t sure if I should be suspicious of the coincidence either. Last night I just got raped by the twins, and then the next morning, their mother offered my girlfriend a training post.

Two days later, a chopper picked us up to head off into the Wyoming mountain tops, where the institute was located, away from the hustle and bustle of civilisation. Here, trainees would eat, breathe and sleep bodybuilding. We were greeted on the helipad by a pair of gorgeous but freakishly built ladies, both proudly displaying their full on nudity. They weren’t even wearing shoes, all bare from head to toe. Apparently, that’s how they do it in the New Themyscira Institute.

“Welcome to the New Themyscira Institute. I’m the head of the welcoming committee. Call me Paula. If you would be happy to take off your clothes, that would be very much appreciated,” announced a lady of African-American descent. If she wasn’t working here, she would be the next Tyra Banks. But her physique just screams “Huge”, like Margie Martin but bigger, much bigger. Of course, not as big as me, but for a woman, it was pretty impressive.

“Here at the Institute, we practice a strong sense of self-confidence towards our own bodies. Especially when you have bodies as gorgeously ripped as ours. You don’t expect Michelangelo’s works to be hidden behind a piece of cloth, do you? It should be grandly displayed for all to see, just like our bodies. I’m Cassandra, also part of the welcoming committee.” This girl was a cute blonde, with a not-so-cute, but rather a ferocious frame of muscle that could rival that of her colleague, Paula.

“No worries, we LOVE to go nude too!” said Boa, and excitedly, she just slid off all her clothes which was nothing more than a Nike sports bra, bikini bottoms and sandals. I, too, was minimalistic, and it took me no more than 5 seconds to remove my stringer vest, shorts and sneakers.

“There, isn’t that much better? Boa, you look hot! And your man is a stallion! Meow!” Cassandra teased, eyeing my juicy 10-inch cock now with a full hard-on.

“Cass! Be professional!” Paula snapped, but I could see, this minx was also impressed, trying to subtly seduce me by running her hands gently over her jacked midsection and playfully curling her arm up to show off her 20-inch bicep, her silky ebony skin glistening in the sun.

“Wow! Check out your guns Paula!” Boa admired, wrapping her hands around the big beefy black arm.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Boa. Pretty soon, you’ll be packing so much gains, you’ll be admiring your own muscles. Being here means you are the top 1% of bodybuilders in the world. And we will make you better.”

“Top 1% of FEMALE bodybuilders,” I corrected pretentiously.

“Are you sure Mike Hancock? Are you really sure? Why don’t you call your MALE bodybuilder friends and we’ll have a little flex off. We’ll see who’s at the top 1%!” Paula challenged.

“Fiesty! I like you already Paula!” Boa chuckled.

“Come, let us show you around,” Cassandra beckoned.

Going past the gates, I came to realise that the compound was much bigger than I thought. Greeting us at the gazebo were five exquisitely carved marble statues, displaying a level of detail unlike any other. Even Michelangelo would be jealous. The statue in the middle was Fiona, at her prime, in a front lat spread, flanked by her four pioneer students: Savannah, Summer, Alexandria and Brianna. Each statue, presenting a level of muscle definition which accurately captured the sheer conditioning of their real-life counterparts. From every bulge in the dense hard flesh, to every single vein and sinew, it was as if they could come to life now and I would be convinced that these were real.

The first stop, we passed by a vast grassland with a huge barn at the corner. A cattle farm. One half of the field was fenced, containing hundreds of Charolais cattle, one of the staples of modern American beef. The other half, much closer to the barn, were some of the biggest and most muscular cows I had ever seen. If cows could become bodybuilders, these were it. The Belgian Blue. Hundreds of them. The leanest beef in the world. And the Belgian Blues here were almost twice the size of the Charolais, just monstrously huge, and my thinking was that they were designed this way by advanced genetic engineering.

“This is our cattle farm. We here at the Institute focuses very highly on nutrition and we make sure we get our beef fresh from the farm a mere 5 minutes walk away from the main complex. But there is another use for our cattle,” Paula said, gesturing to a nearby hiking trail leading up to a peak at the horizon. The hill was easily about 2600 feet (almost 800m) tall and what made it even harder was what they did while hiking up there. At the foot of the hill, there were another couple of freakishly ripped women, getting ready for their climb, and next to them, two Belgian Blue bulls, each weighing almost 2500 pounds. Easily, the ladies each lifted a bull over their heads and slung it over their massively built backs, and soon, as if the bulls weighed no more than a feathered pillow, they began their ascent up the hill. And what’s more impressive…they weren’t even hiking nor jogging. They were half sprinting! Like how an athlete would run an 800m race.

“That is the Mega Milo Run. Inspired by the ancient Greek wrestler, Milo of Croton. Every morning, each girl would be given a cow or bull, and then, you would have to run up and down the hill with the animal over your shoulders. You will start off with the lighter Charolais, a female weighing about 1200 pounds, then as you get bigger and stronger, you’ll make your way up to the Belgian Blue bulls, the largest weighing up to 3000 pounds. Paula and I are now at the Belgian Blue females, around 2000 pounds. It may sound brutal, but this is the cost of greatness. These muscles aren’t just for show. Now, Mike, can YOU or your male bodybuilder friends lift a cow over your shoulders? Let alone, run with it?” Paula challenged.

I was speechless, part of it from the feat I just witness by the women sprinting up the hill, another by Paula’s words.

Cassandra added, “What’s best about it is that at every third day, you will bring that cattle of yours to the kitchen, where your designated kitchen team would slaughter it and that cow will be your meal for the next 3 days. Delicious, juicy, protein-rich beef. Perfect for MUSCLE BUILDING!”

I just couldn’t get my head around how insanely fit and strong these girls must be to be able to attempt such a feat day-in, day-out. Or just how much they must be eating per meal to finish an entire cow in just three days. Considering an 1800 pound cow, and they were having it for five meals per day for three days (that’s 12 meals total), one meal would be almost 150 pounds of beef, that’s the entire weight of an average person! You saying these girls are eating an entire person, per meal???

“Say Cassandra, Paula, how long have you been training here?”

“Us? We have been trainees here for about 6 months. Before that we were in the Bikini category. Check out our gains,” they both struck a series of compulsory poses that showed off their terrifyingly ripped frames,“aren’t we huge, Boa?”

Cassandra opened her legs apart, just slighter wider than shoulder width, and then smashed a thunderously powerful leg on the cobblestoned ground, demonstrating a powerful quad stomp that caused her thigh muscles to ripple with cable-like striations, before sliding her hands on either side of her hips, going into a gigantic lat spread. Paula, on the other hand, pointed one foot forward, rotating her legs to show off the variety of angles that accentuated her lower limb definition, before folding her arms behind her head and crunching up her midsection to display an electrifying set of abs, the deep crevices separating every pebbled eight-pack that was made even sexier with a bead of sweat running down her dense hard flesh.

“Like I said, we’re HUGE…and RIPPED!” Cassandra winked. “Aren’t you excited to be as huge and ripped as us?”

“Oh yeah! I can’t wait to get huge and ripped!” Boa said.

No doubt, Boa, while jacked as she was now, was nowhere near the size that Paula and Cassandra were showing, but with such brutal regimes and gritty determination, there was no stopping her from even surpassing them.

“This next place here is the Sensual Sanctuary. It’s a lush garden enclosing a waterfall whereby girls can come anytime after training hours to have a little…fun. Some prefer it private, some prefer wild orgies. Cassandra, please don’t tell our new arrivals about what happened last Saturday,” Paula joked, putting a finger in front of her lips.

“Let’s just say, the sex was so good. But it gets better, especially with the beauty of nature and the stars all around you,” Cassandra winked. “And don’t be scared if you’re straight. With soooo many gorgeous women here, we could turn any girl gay!”

“Sex is an important part of muscle building. Our scientists say, the hormones released by sexual stimulation and orgasms help increase muscle recovery by 15% and muscle building capacity by up to 18%. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but these are the little things that are gonna matter when you step on stage later on,” Paula explained.

“And who are these scientists you talk about?” I asked.

“They are a group of intelligent and driven women led by Dr Carla Rottweiler.”

“Oh my god! THE Carla Rottweiler?” Boa blurted.

“Yes. THE Carla Rottweiler.”

Carla was a scientist-turned-bodybuilder that pioneered the research exclusively on female bodybuilding. If she wasn’t in the lab doing ground breaking research, she was in the gym or on stage, flexing her body as a testament of her life’s work. She came in 2nd for two consecutive Miss Olympias, narrowly losing to Fiona Hulkbuster, who took home her 6th and 7th titles at that time. And as we found out, her lab was housed just behind the main complex of the institute.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to meet her in the welcoming ceremony later in the afternoon.”

The final building before the main complex looked pretty out of place from all the other buildings, which prided themselves in the ancient Greek-styled architecture. This building was glass walls and metal cylinders. It was Carla’s lab, which also housed the institute’s famed plastic surgery clinics. Briskly strolling around the institute, I noticed that every woman I met, besides being amazingly ripped, was either gorgeous or super gorgeous. Now I know why. Led by plastic surgeon (and part-time fitness model, duh!) Dr Mary Lee, every single girl that trained here was subject to a plastic surgery review, and every opportunity was made to correct any flaws in their facial features. And the best part was, it was fully funded. Who wouldn’t want to beautify themselves for free. I realised later that Paula did a nose job, and got boob implants, while Cassandra fixed her chin and lips. The result? Supermodels, with a physique that could break every bone in a man’s body.

We finally reached the main complex whereby a group of trainees were doing their outdoor sessions. One group was conducting hand-to-hand combat training, with a fierce brutality that could put black-op soldiers to shame. These girls were not only muscular, they were fast, agile and ruthless. With the way they were sparring, and the sheer size they were sporting, they could each take out 10 black-ops soldiers all on their own, and without even breaking a sweat. Another group of girls at the corner was watching a fellow trainee play tug-of-war with a sedan, and the girl was winning, the sedan’s tyres running and screeching out a plume of smoke as it tried to overcome the tank of a girl that was pulling it back.

“Welcome to the main complex. Your room will be on the first floor, Boa. Room 134. The second to fourth floors…oh you will like. The highlight of this institute. State of the art gyms. Free weights unavailable. Here, we do not believe in the limits of free weights. What do you do when you maxed out on the 200 pound dumbbell curls? No way. All equipment here are powered by electromagnets. Just punch in the amount of weight you want, and the machine will give it to you. The upper limits of these machines are still yet to be discovered. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we will let you settle down while we meet our next arrival,” Paula said.

“Don’t forget, the welcoming ceremony is at 3pm. And while we love being naked here 24/7…this ceremony requires you to be dressed in the chiton provided in your room and golden sandals. Enjoy,” Cassandra added.

A chiton is the clothing people used to wear in ancient Greece. When we entered Room 134, we noticed the chiton hung neatly in the closet, with a pair of sandals, as told by Cassandra.
(Example of a modern Greek chitons)

For me, they’d provided with a white toga. I was curious as they knew to get my size right. But what was more surprising was what came scurrying out the bathroom.

Four beautifully fit ladies appeared, also bare skinned from head to toe. They weren’t as huge as the girls we had seen all over the compound, but they were still muscular in their own right…probably able to give Juliana Malacarne and Dana Linn Bailey a run for their money. Still, they were overtly jacked, and if not for the perky boobs and luscious labia, I would have thought their bodies belonged to a male underwear model. The tallest one, which had the most impressive six-pack of them all, with two thick juicy veins running over the chiselled slabs of muscle each like little apples fused beneath her flesh, stepped forward and introduced herself.

“Good morning, Boa. My name is Delia, one of the staff members here. With me are Grace, Julie and Claire. We will be your handmaidens for the entirety of your stay here.”

Standing in line, I observed the girls, which I didn’t even bother even remembering. All I know was, every single one of them seemed interchangeable, they looked so similar, with shredded physiques, brunette hair, perky breasts, firm hard glutes that jutted from their pelvises. From the first time since we arrived though, Boa was bigger than the girls here. But I was certain, pretty soon, Boa was gonna double and triple in size and make these ‘handmaidens’ look anorexic by comparison.

“Wait, does this place only hire female bodybuilders? Everyone here looks ripped!” I asked.

“We will take that as a compliment, Mr Hancock. You see, every staff member that gets hired here will need to undergo six months of strenuous muscle building training before being officially assigned. And we have to keep working out and stay lean and fit for as long as we are working here,” Delia answered.

“And what exactly will you be doing here?”

“Everything as required by Boa. The Institute believes that trainees must be 100% committed to their mission of bodybuilding, and thus must not distract themselves from trivial everyday matters. So, we are here to prepare her meals, apply her makeup, set up the baths, provide post-workout massages and if need be, satisfy her sexual desires.”

“I see.”

“Thank you Delia. I look forward to having you girls around. Would you help me unpack then? I would need to get ready for the welcoming ceremony,” Boa said.

“Yes, Boa. The bath is already prepared.”

I grabbed Boa’s hand as she headed to the bathroom. “Boa, before we go, I just wanna make sure you are absolutely sure about this. Staying here, in the middle of nowhere, just to chase some dream that you can do equally as well back home in LA, I don’t know about this. I mean, seriously, we’ve seen the girls, I am not convinced that women could get muscles like that without some form of drug enhancement. I’m not sure if this is safe!”

“Babe, I appreciate you being concerned for me but I have thought this through long and hard. I’m sorry, but I think it is a bit insulting that you believe girls can’t build muscles as big as men. Give me a year and just you wait, I’ll be the best bodybuilder that has ever graduated from this institute, and I will be bigger and stronger than you’ll ever be! And I’m gonna knock the Harrison twins off their perch! And I assure you there are no drugs involved. The girls go through drug screenings each year, and they are clean. Much cleaner than the guys you compete with. I think it’s a bit ironic: guys, with all their testosterone and bravado…and they still need drugs to build muscles! Girls like us, we work twice as hard, all natural, and we are every bit as ripped as you are!”

“Please, Boa, I’m sorry. I was just concerned. And maybe I was a bit afraid of being apart from you for an entire year…or more! I’m gonna miss you so much!”

“Aww…Mike, I’ll miss you too, but it’ll be over before you know it. I’ll be bigger, stronger and more beautiful than ever. And YOU get to enjoy the best parts of it!”

“I hope so. And these trainees here…are you gonna be okay? They seem brutal.”

“You forget, babe, I am JUST as brutal!” With that, Boa gave a super front double bicep, showing off those incredible 18-inch arms which no doubt, would be the last time I see them because in a year’s time, they were going to be replaced by over 23-inches of pure hard mass. That goes to every single inch of muscle in her body. She would be ripped, and massive and if I don’t start making gains soon, she was going to humiliate me.

“I like your confidence. But there is something I need to tell you. That day, in the Harrison twins’ party, they raped me. And sent my friends to the hospital. They were just extremely ruthless and they have this psychotic need to dominating people, especially men. So please be careful.”

“What do you mean you got raped?”

“I mean, I got taken against my will, tied and bound, and sexually assaulted by two monstrously huge ladies,” I explained, and I felt my heart beating faster, as the sense of dread engulfed me again.

“WHAT THE FUCK! They think they are so big and bad, don’t they? Well I’ll be. I’m gonna show them what happens if they mess with my man!” Boa vowed, clutching her fist, and I could see the huge softball sized bicep just exploding from her flesh, veins throbbing as she rallied in her anger.

“Please don’t. It’s embarrassing as it is. I don’t want this to get any bigger than that. Please promise me you won’t start a scene. I’ll be fine. And the way to show them, is to humiliate them in the Olympia next year!”

Boa pulled me over for a passionate kiss. “Oh babe, if that’s what you want me to do, I promise. I’m so sorry. It must be very traumatising. And I can’t believe I’m gonna let you go through all this alone while I’m here doing God knows what!”

“I love you Boa. Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Although, I’m not sure how I’ll feel knowing you’ll be fucked by all these countless muscular women every day for the whole year,” I half-chuckled.

“Well, I think I have a way to fix that,” then she did the unexpected, she got down on her knees and held my hands, looking me in the eyes with her glinting hazel ones, “Mike Hancock, will you marry me?”

“Whoa, I never pictured a woman doing this to me, but seeing how I just got emasculated by a pair of twins…oh why not.”

“Mike!”

“Okay, okay. Boa Shimada, I will marry you.”

“And I will be yours forever!” Boa said. “Too bad there’s no ring.”

“No worries. I’ll go home, buy one, and same time next year, we are going to have a magnificent wedding!” I said.

“Well, I don’t think I want to wait a year. I just want you, all to myself! Let’s get married here! Today!” Boa suggested.

“What? Today? Where do we even find an officiant?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Oh there are like 200 people here. I’m sure one of them knows how to say some words and marry us off! Come on, we never do anything spontaneous!”

Then, there was a tap on my shoulder.

“Sorry I couldn’t help overhearing, but I’m an officiant. Certified three years ago, when I had to marry off my sister. Please, let me do the honours,” Delia offered.

“See, Mike! An officiant right there! It’s a sign! It’s fate! The universe wants us to get married today! So what do you say?” Boa asked excitedly.

I took a short pause which I believed, to her, felt like an eternity. Eventually, I said “Yes”.

I had never seen Boa so happy in my life. So then and there, naked in Room 134, in front of four strangers we had just met barely 10 minutes ago, we were married.

“By the power invested in me by the state of Wyoming, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ladies, for the first time ever, I present to you, Mr and Mrs, Mike and Boa Hancock!”

“Boa Hancock, I like the sound of that,” my new wife said, before pecking me on the lips.

“Me too, babe, me too.”

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 7

The toga was a perfect fit, but much more modest than I thought it would be. I was expecting it to expose one side of my chest but it ended up covering my entire torso. Boa’s chiton was equally modest. It covered her from collarbone to her ankles, but there is a nice long slit on each side to expose those long, muscular legs of hers. The golden belt around her waist also helped accentuate that tough V-taper of hers, Her sandals were fastened and laced all the way to her mid-shin level but damn they looked great on her.


Still, her chiton was a sleeveless, showing off those well-sculpted, vascular arms and the rules were strict on this. Minimal exposure. Delia had to pick out a shawl to cover her up.

“There, Boa, you are ready to go.” 

The ceremony was held in the courtyard behind the main complex. There was a staged platform with a rostrum at the side, and below it were a line of arm chairs for the 200 trainees and new arrivals. It was easy identifying the new arrivals because they must all be seated in the front row. There were 24 of them including Boa. The problem is, not many of them brought along any loved ones. I looked around for a supportive boyfriend or some open-minded parents, but none I could see. I was the only guy there. In a sea of women that could crush me to bits. As expected, and as per institute regulations, all girls were young, and all were below 40 years of age. At 22, I wouldn’t say Boa was the youngest, for I saw a couple of sorority-esque girls barely out of their teens (although behind their chitons and shawls, they did pack on a bit of size, which I believed were most muscle. And the oldest was a girl in her mid thirties, for I recognised her from some previous NPC Women’s Physique championship. Anyways, more and more girls started pouring in, most of them trainees. The bigger ones who had been here for years looked stuffed beneath their chitons, and no amount of clothes was gonna hide the fact that they were simply packing with mass. The newer, less muscular ones were still just as magnificent, as Paula and Cassandra proved earlier today. I just didn’t understand why they had to wear these old Greek clothes.

There were five seats, mainly couches, on the stage and I knew who they were for. The middle must be for the Hulkbuster, and the rest for her four pioneer students: Savannah, Summer, Alexandra, and Brianna. And surely enough, at 3pm sharp, they made their way to the couches, each flanked by a bevy of their own handmaidens. They all wore chitons and shawls as well, the modest I had ever seen them dress. Usually in all my times seeing them in real life or in the internet, if they weren’t nude or bikini-clad, they would at least have a sleeveless vest or sports bra on. Now, it just looked so awkward to see them fully-clothed. Except Fiona. She had to be the most attention-grabbing of all. Instead of a chiton, she was wearing the skin of the lion she slaughtered (see previous chapter), a testament of her overwhelming superiority. She may be retired, but she would like to remind everyone that she was still a legend in her own right, and demanded nothing but the utmost respect for her. And despite her absence from the sport, she still had a body that would make any prime female bodybuilder tremble with insecurity. She was just as big as Iris Kyle, Andrea Shaw and Margie Marvellous. Seeing her long tree-trunk legs, which the lion skin was unable to conceal, her thigh muscles were still very much well-separated, with a measurements wider than an average woman’s waist and calves much bigger than a regular man’s arms.

The five ladies each lounged on their own couches, like queens soaking in their sunlit balconies, as their handmaidens oiled up and massaged their thick, hard flesh and fed them huge chunks of rare steak, Belgian Blue I presumed. That wasn’t all. My heart jumped as a leopard pounced onto the stage and snuggled next to Fiona on her couch. If the other girls were surprised, they didn’t show it for I believe this was her pet and seeing this leopard around was a common sight in this institute.

Fiona stroked the leopard by the neck before standing up in an air of might and grandeur, and headed to the podium for her welcoming speech.

“Ladies and…gentleMAN, we are all here today to celebrate the induction of 24 highly dedicated and talented young ladies in the New Themyscira Institute. I had personally seen to the recruitment of all these young ladies, which I believe, are the Top 1% of bodybuilders in the world. And with our help, they will be even better. Maybe the top 0.01% of bodybuilders. Either way, we have never failed. As most of you all in the audience know and personally experienced from your time training here, every girl that trains in our institute will build up an incredible amount of muscle. They will be ripped and hard and they will dominate the sport for many years to come. While this institute celebrated its 10th anniversary recently, we are proud to show the world our first 4 graduates. My daughters, Savannah and Summer Harrison, Alexandra Stevenson and Brianna Sorenson. Which brings us to our first agenda for today. Our history. Ladies and gentleman, let us welcome, our pioneer graduates!”

With that, Savannah, Summer, Alexandra and Brianna confidently rose from their couches, and with the help of their handmaidens, removed their restrictive chitons. And from there, emerged the body of four beautiful goddesses, all in their naked glory and I could swear that their skin was glowing. It was less than a week since the Olympia, but I just couldn’t help asking if they had gotten bigger. Because it seemed like they had. They could have put on at least another 20 pounds of muscle, each. As they got into a pretty provocative posedown, trying to outflex each other, squaring each other off, copying each other’s poses to subtly say “yes, you look big in that pose, but I’m bigger!”, I glanced at Boa only to see that she was entranced by the sheer magnificence of these four young muscular giantesses. They were all at least 6 foot 4, which was already taller than the average American man, and add that with the layers upon layers of grotesque muscle that they had so obsessively built onto their bodies, even a male gorilla could tremble in fear at the mere sight of them. That was why they were the best of the institute.

“HUUUURRRRR….ARRRRGGGHHH! OH YEAH! THAT’S IT! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

“OHHHHH….URRRRRRRGGGGHHH…OHH YEAH, COME TO MAMA!”

“YEESSS! OH FUCK YESS! I’M MASSIVE!” 

“MMM…HUUURRRR…MMMM…LET ‘ER RIP! HUUURRRR!”

As the four girls wrapped it up with an explosive most muscular pose of their choice, their sexy grunts emanating across the courtyard, which I swore puffed them up another 2 more inches in size, Fiona reached for the mike again.

“As you all know, we have a very special guest with us today. The reigning Mr Olympia Runner-Up, Mr Mike Hancock. Mr Hancock, you are young, barely 25 years old, and you have been achieving many great things in the sport. Why don’t you come on up here and show all these ladies how you men do it? Come on up. Some of these girls had never seen a man in years, let alone a naked man! Come on!” Fiona invited.

Well I was just raped by two of the girls on stage, so you would forgive me if I was hesitant in sharing a stage with them. But the crowd was already going nuts so I felt pressured to go. Slowly, and as confidently as I could, I stepped onto the platform.

“Alright, Mike. It’s just like the Olympia. Second nature. You just got raped, but now’s the time to prove to these girls that you’re not a pussy!” I said to myself. So I ripped off my snug toga and screamed like the Hulk as I revealed my angry muscular body.

Going into the first pose, my front lat spread, I know I had the girls beat. The girls were definitely massive, don’t get me wrong, each one of them packing at least 340 pounds of pure, dense muscle, and each one of them could probably clinch a top 8 if they competed alongside the recent line-up of Mr Olympias. But I was the top 2, narrowly losing to a veteran called Jamal Hendrickson, in a controversial manner. The media was saying his win was political because of his influence in the sport. So I wasn’t joking when I say I could hold my own.

And boy, did I show them. I was massive, incredibly massive. Some say I was the most massive bodybuilder to have ever competed in the Mr Olympia. Maybe except for Jamal but again, controversial. I made Markus Ruhl in the 2002 Night of Champions ), arguably the most massive display by a bodybuilder ever, look tiny by comparison. I was a full 380 pounds, sporting 26-inch arms and unlike Markus…I was way more symmetrical and better conditioned. Markus had nothing on me.

The girls took this as a challenge and lined up next to me, copying my every pose. They were impressive. Against guys like Flex Wheeler or Gunter Schlierkamp, these girls could probably hold their own, but I was a different level altogether. I had no idea how they got the better of me at the gym party the other day, but I was the boss here today. Every pose they tried to strike, backfired on them, because I was bigger…and better.

Which goes back to what I said earlier. Women with muscles, very impressive. But guys just had a better advantage.

I could hear the audience cheering, all the trainee ladies, and my own wife, her lips drooling, seeing her own stud of a husband just oozing confidence on stage. I know, I wasn’t holding anything back. My incredible muscles, my handsome face, my glittering smile and my monster cock, engorged and ready to climax. There was no better show of virility than this.

Then, I heard the sound of slow clapping coming from Fiona. She looked impressed. As she should be.

“My, my, what a stud. If you weren’t with Boa, you would be living in my room indefinitely,” Fiona said. “Very good. We are so lucky to have Mr Hancock grace us with his attendance today. But someday, you could follow in his footsteps as one of the top bodybuilders in the world. As you all know, one year from now, we will be launching our mega debut for all you trainees. Since these four pioneer girls debuted 6 years ago, we have not had the opportunity to introduce more of our trainees into the scene. The reason is because, we feel you are not ready. But seeing how much hard work you have put in and how much more mass you all have gained, I look forward to debuting the best out of you into the Miss Olympia next year, where you will be competing alongside our four pioneers. The eight top trainees by the end of the year will be awarded a debut into the Miss Olympia. It doesn’t matter if you are a new arrival, or if you are here for the past 10 years. As long as you’re big enough, strong enough, and conditioned enough, you will be selected. The top eight…starting with HER.”

Just then, I felt the floorboards of my platform shake as a loud thud rang from the right side of the stage. Some of the handmaidens even almost lost their footing. The glass of water on the tables shook…as if an earthquake was on its way. But it was no earthquake. It was an apocalypse.

The footsteps got louder and more violent as they approached the stage. Emerging from the side was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen in my entire life. If we gathered all the Miss Universe beauty pageant winners together, and had a champions of champions contest, this girl would easily win with her piercing sapphire eyes and long wavy golden blonde hair. Her smile was straight out of an angel’s kiss, and if there was a true angel, she would bear the face of this girl. Approaching the stage, I took in her oversized chiton and blanket-wide shawl concealing her figure, but they no longer remained concealed for long.

“Everyone, I present to you, my youngest daughter, who just celebrated her 18th birthday yesterday, let’s give a hand to Sophia Harrison, president of the trainee council.”

The crowd cheered but I figured every trainee would be acquainted with her already. This introduction was for the new arrivals…and me.

Sophia spoke, her voice in a tone fit for the Grammys, “Good afternoon everyone. I am Sophia Harrison, President of the trainee council, the premier representative council on all things related to trainee affairs. From parties, to armwrestling contests, to Milo Run Races, and weightlifting championships in the institute, all will be under our jurisdiction. Mr Hancock, on behalf of all trainees in the New Themyscira Institute, I thank you for a wonderful guest performance. You have truly demonstrated a spectacular display of gorgeously-built musculature. As a sign of our gratitude, allow me to entertain you with a performance of my own. And if you be so kind to tell us, whether you like what you see?”

With that, two of Sophia’s handmaidens, who wore slightly fancier chitons that the regular handmaidens, signifying Sophia’s exclusive status as the Trainee President, they approached Sophia and helped her disrobe from her oversized chiton. I couldn’t help but to let my eyes pop out from my sockets and let my jaw to drop onto the floor, my ears hearing audible gasps ringing from the new arrivals as Sophia’s clothes were undone. Her eyes only showed an aura of seduction, mixed with a tinge of coldness and arrogance, for she knew what was about to transpire. All this while, she had been hiding, without a shred of a doubt, the most muscular and most ripped body that had ever walked the face of this Earth. History writers, painters and sculptors would be scrambling to immortalize this incredible piece of muscular magnificence for generations to come. She took a step forward and subtly squared me off, but the difference was as obvious as day. Standing in all her nude glory, at 6 foot 8, easily sporting AT LEAST 430 pounds of grotesque muscle that male bodybuilders could only ever dream of having despite doses upon doses of steroids. Her vascularity and level of definition were off the charts, with veins throbbing as thick as whiteboard markers. Her striations and sinews could make pumpkins look smooth by comparison. And even her boobs were awesome. These 40E globes of feminity remained as firm and perky as they would be on a thriving 18-year-old. But the most impressive parts…were of course her muscles. Layers upon layers of terrifying muscle. I ran my eyes over her boulder-sized delts, the striations beautifully separated by shadowy cuts and crevices. Even without flexing, her arms were an obvious bulge of biceps the size of bowling balls, with lobster-clawed triceps distinctly separated into their individual tendons. Her pecs were the size of cinderblocks, rising almost to her chin, forming a pec cleavage that was almost 7-inches deep. Her ten-pack looked like they could crush diamonds, and the shark-gilled ribs, serratus and obliques only added to the invincible level of conditioning she had achieved. This was the most beautiful and terrifying set of abs that I had ever seen on any human being ever, with five tortuous veins running all over them to provide these huge slabs of brick-like muscle the blood flow they require. My eyes ran down further to see a perfectly shaven, well-groomed vagina, and I wondered how many guys could she rape and dominate with a musculature this immortal. And the legs! Fuck! Her legs! Her quads were wider than a tyre, so much so that if a sedan-grade Michelin tyre was wrapped around her quads, Sophia could easily break it apart with just a brief flex of her almighty thighs. Like seriously, each muscle was like a python strangled tightly round her flesh, and every twitch of her toes sent each individual dense fibre into an explosive frenzy. Sophia’s calves were thicker than Arnold’s thighs, with each head of her gastrocnemius the size of a rugby ball. Add that to the Goddess-level V-taper, the perfect proportions and the air of confidence, she was the most beautiful and most frightening human being in the entire world. If Savannah and Summer Harrison was huge, if I was massive, then Sophia Harrison was an infinite monstrosity.

And she wasn’t done yet. Everyone saw her front. But not her back. With a grace as eminent as that of an Olympian ice skater, she turned around, tossing her lush blonde hair, her intoxicating pheromones invading my nostrils. Gently, she swiped her hair away to reveal that outrageously humungous back, with so many grooves, bumps, bulges and crevices that I didn’t even know could ever exist in the history of human anatomy. It was every bodybuilder’s dream to build a back like the Grand Canyon, but the Grand Canyon should aim to build a terrain like Sophia’s back because whatever muscle mass and definition she was showing off in that monstrous back of hers, no mountain range could ever come close. Sophia could go toe-to-toe with Ronnie Coleman and Dorian Yates, and she would downright humiliate them. And once she flexed that rear double bicep, everything just exploded, and her back rose another 3 inches thicker to the point that her powerfully protruding rhomboids just straight up hit me in the face. I even had to back off from the impact. And those glutes, so slappable, so erotically charged and so incredibly stuffed with layers of pure muscle, that when she flexed, you could see the muscle fibres tighten into feather-like cords. It was an ass grown as big as a couple of basketballs but don’t you even dare to go anal on her. She could squash your dick in between those butt cheeks of hers as easily as me squishing a cucumber in my hands.

“HUUUUURRRRR….OH FUCK YEAHHH! I AM ALL MUSCLE!”

Once Sophia was done basking in the awe of her audience with her rear double bicep, her soaking up their gasps like a potion of power that she would use to fuel her own self-confidence, she then gracefully switched into a side chest, the best side chest pose that was ever done in history.

“OH GOD YES! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! ARE YOU SEEING THIS MIKE? I’M ENORMOUS! LOOK AT HOW ENORMOUS I AM!”

She was so insanely enormous, that every single pose was a like a variation of the most muscular. This side chest was like a hands-clasped crab pose, highlighting the brutal mass in her pecs, shoulders and arms. Her front lat spread looked more like a modified hands-on-hips most muscular, whereby she was not only showing the unbelievable thickness of her lats, she was also crunching her midsection to show off that rippling ten-pack. And with her front double bicep, bringing those peaks into at least 32 inches in thickness, she knew she had absolutely humiliated me.

“Like what you see, Mike? Mmmm….I’M RIPPED!”

I was still speechless, my mouth, agape.

“Oh c’mon Mike, don’t act so shocked. I didn’t become the president by just being a pretty face. I became the president because I have MUSCLE. You see, in this world, muscle is power. And I am ALL MUSCLE. Big, strong, hard, dense, RRRRRIPPED MUSCLE! Mike, why don’t you show me YOUR muscles? C’mon, show me your biceps?” Sophia commanded, stepping a foot closer to me to imply that she meant business.

I obeyed. I curled my arm into a single front bicep, all 26-inches of it. Impressive for me, but on this stage, not impressive enough.

“Awww, that’s cute. Little Mike and his little bicep. You call that a muscle? THIS, is muscle!”

And with that, Sophia wasted no time in showing everyone who’s boss, because once she flexed those 32-inch bicep of hers, complete with not one, not two, but three juicy veins running over it, along with a well-carved out sulcus separating the two heads of the muscle, she completely destroyed me.

“Hahahahaha, better luck next time, Little Mike. Too bad I couldn’t join the Olympia this year, because it was before my 18th birthday, but come same time next year, I will be destroying the contest! Heck! I should be competing against the guys! Ain’t that right, little sisters?” Sienna asked Savannah and Summer.

“Little sisters? I thought they were older?” I interjected.

“And what does age have to do this anything? Over here, it’s all about muscle. Pure, hard, solid muscle,” Sophia twisted her body round to show off a ¾ back pose, her eyes just admiring the bulging iron-cored bicep in front of her. “URRRGGGHHH…OH YEAH! What a magnificent pose. Mmmm…so tell me, who here has muscles bigger than mine?”

Silence.

“Just as I thought. That’s why I call them little sisters, and you…Little Mike.”

Finally, Fiona had enough of the drama and adjourned us to our seats. A new couch was brought on stage for Sophia, and sitting there, she was every bit as majestic as a Greek goddess.

As I took my seat next to Boa, she eyed me sympathetically.

“Are you alright babe? That bitch was brutal!” Boa cursed.

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle a few insults,” I assured.

“Now I know who’s the one to beat around here. I promise you, I will NOT let that bitch or her sisters get the better of you. I will train TWICE as hard as any girl here and come same time next year, I will be BIGGER than that bitch ever will be!” Boa vowed.

“Do that. But how…she is just a girl! Her body and the amount of muscle she’s packing, it’s impossible!”

“Dr Carla Rottweiler has pioneered a natural regime that maximises the physiology of teenage girls, optimising their muscle growth potential. And she has genes from both her bodybuilder parents. Her father may have divorced her mother, but the gene pool stays. But little does she know, I have great genes too.”

We turned our attention back to the ceremony. “My, my, this event is heating up, am I not right? But fortunately for our four pioneers here, they will be housed in this facility for the rest of the year to have private sessions with Dr Carla herself. They aim to put on even MORE mass for the Olympia next year,” Fiona shared.

I could hear a scoff from Sophia.

“Either way, benchmark just got raised. If you wanna be in the top 8 next year, well you better start making huge gains, because Sophia just showed everyone what you’re up against. Her. Good luck to all. Now to end the ceremony, let us invite our newest recruits to stage. When I call your name, come on up here, take off your clothes and put on your best muscular pose!” Fiona said.

One by one, the girls went up to stage, stripped and posed for the cameras. Observing the field, it seemed like most of them were quite ripped, but not as ripped as Boa. Maybe she had a chance. By the time Boa made it up on stage, she proved that she was the recruit to beat. Sensually, she let her chiton fall onto the floor and gave her signature Boa Dynamite pose: left front bicep, right side tricep, puffed up well-separated pecs, twisted midsection for the widened right lats, chiselled eight-pack, rippling serratus and shark-gilled obliques, right foot planted firmly to display that stone-hard formidability, and a flexed left leg, balanced on the balls of her foot, to show off that beefy, diamond-etched left calf.

Boa was so grand and elegant in her posing, showing both strength and sexuality, that even Sophia looked impressed. As Boa held on to the formidable flex, the rest of the new recruits formed a line next to her and we now had a posedown. Everyone in their signature poses. But there was no stopping the Boa Dynamite. There was not a single pose that could display every inch of her complete package. Only the Boa Dynamite, and it paid off.

“I think we have a winner! Ladies and gentleman, the Most Muscular Award goes to…Miss Boa Shimada!” Fiona announced.

Sophia grabbed the golden trophy from the tray and presented it to my wife.

“Not bad, not bad at all. Very ripped. Very well-proportioned. I will be keeping an eye on you, Boa Shimada,” Sophia said.

“Actually, I prefer Boa Hancock now.”

“Oh well, then, congratulations. I’ll see you around.”

And with that, there was a round of applause and all the girls started stripping down into their birthday suits. With the formalities over, the party had just begun.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 8

I said goodbye to my new wife at around midnight. So her next experiences in the New Themyscira Institute was purely based on what she told me after she came back.

The next morning, the new trainees had to be up by 6am for the Milo Run. Here is the rest of her schedule for a typical day at the Institute:

6am: Milo Run
7am: Meal 1
8am: Pain endurance training
9am: Workout session 1 (Chest and back)
11am: Meal 2
12 noon: Beauty class, contest posing and model training
1pm: Workout session 2 (Legs, glutes and abs)
3pm: Meal 3
4pm: MMA training
5.30pm: Meal 4
6.30pm: Workout session 3 (Strength and power training)
8pm: Workout session 4 (Arms and shoulders)
10pm: Meal 5
(Free and easy activities after Meal 5)

The meals were the hardest to bear, but Boa had to eat in order to build muscle and gain enough energy to last through an entire workout session, which was brutal, by the way. Each meal would consist of 150 pounds of rare beef, a bowl of brown rice, baked beans, salad, tofu, and sometimes chicken/salmon, topped off with a concoction of supplemental beverages consisting of 100% whey protein, pre-workout, caffeine, BCAAs and glutamic acid. These supplements were developed specifically by Dr Carla Rottweiler and based on the results, they were much more potent than regular supplements, especially for the female physiology. And the concoction promoted rapid digestion as well, so that these big meals could be quickly digested and absorbed into the body for maximum utilisation. And it worked. Despite eating a meal fit for 6 men just mere two hours ago, she was starting to feel hungry again. Despite her brutal mindset, Boa ended up being super exhausted by the end of each day. She was sweating non-stop daily and was consuming almost an entire water dispenser’s worth of liquids daily, which is equivalent to almost 5 gallons of water. And then, there were the calluses. Calluses in her hands for lifting heavy, and calluses in her feet from the barefooted early morning Milo Runs. Luckily, the plastic surgery clinics were state of the art and their treatments helped heal her calluses in no time, with an added touch of a free mani-pedi. She had hands and feet fit for jewellery and high heel commercials, but don’t be fooled, these hands and feet could deadlift an entire car.

Recovery was the most magical. Dr Rottweiler designed specialised recovery beds in every single room. All the girls had to do was sleep in them. These beds double as both massage chairs and cooling chambers. Throughout the girls’ entire night’s sleep, the beds would enter a cycle of massage, rest and cooling phases that promoted muscle repair and more importantly, muscle growth. And it was done in a manner so comfortable, that the girls would be so deep in sleep that they would always wake up refreshed, ready for the next day. The Cal King in each room was just for sex only. The real sleep were in those scientifically designed recovery beds. That morning, the recovery bed charted her measurements and a sexy, nude female silhouette appeared on the screen denoting her overall musculature, which was not too far off from that of Theresa Ivancik and Yaxeni Oriquen.

Boa’s measurements:

Weight: 195 pounds
Height: 5 foot 8
Arms: 19 inches
Chest: 53 inches
Waist: 28 inches
Thighs: 27 inches
Calves: 19 inches

By comparison, Frank Zane:



Now back to Boa’s first day. The newbies gathered at the foot of the hill, with cattle already picked for them. It was quite a crowded frenzy because every girl in the institute was required to do this every morning. This was the first time Boa was seeing so many naked, muscular girls in one place. Each one of them were vain, narcissistic and confident, and every subtle movement they did was to intimidate the girl next to her and show off what little superiority they each had. Which was why a lot of them loved to brush their hands over their silky lush hair just to show off that bulge in their biceps, or stand in a hands-on-hips Wonder Woman pose for a variation of the most muscular, or puff up their chests when they strut around just to accentuate their beefy pecs.

“Hey, I love your biceps! But check out mine…” a girl would say to her friend, and then flex her own arm just to compare how big they were.

“Hmm…did you do something to your quads? It looks so much bigger! Must be crushing those leg presses huh? No? Oh my mistake. I must have been too used to these HUGE thighs of mine. See? I have been doing A LOT of leg presses recently. Check ‘em out. You can touch them. How’s it feel? Yeah, I get that a lot. They ARE huge, aren’t they?” Boa overheard another girl say as she stretched out her legs to display that massive thigh. Boa had to give it to her, those thighs did have some serious mass.

A chilly morning breeze blew, and in her naked glory, no muscle could protect her from the cold. But another more chilling sight seemed to freeze out every other chatter around the foothill, as a large figure blotted out the rising sun from the east.

Sophia. And flanking her, were Savannah, Summer, Alexandra and Brianna.

“Bulls!” Sophia ordered, and her handmaidens came scurrying with the two most massive Belgian Blue bulls in the entire farm. Each of them weighing over 3000 pounds and taller than an average man. But seeing just how massive Sophia was, the bulls could merely be a couple of sheep standing next to her. And don’t get me wrong, these were mutant Belgian Blue bulls and they were jacked as fuck. But Sophia made it seem like they were no bigger than sheep in a cotton farm.

Belgian Blue bulls:


“Mmm….such beauty! Look at the muscles on these bulls,” Sophia ran her hands over the heads of the bulls. “Mmm…I’m gonna devour you both tonight! And use your hard muscles to feed my own massive muscles…” Sophia flexed out her bowling-ball sized bicep and stroked it with her other hand, just to feel for herself just how hard her muscle was. It was diamond-hard. She then lovingly wrapped her gigantic arms around the bull’s head, and gave them each a kiss. “Thank you for your sacrifice. Now, before you get eaten up, how about I bring you up to see the sunrise, huh? Ready? Up!” she said.

With one arm wrapped beneath the belly of the first bull, and another wrapped the same around the second bull, Sophia proceeded to sling them over her enormous boulder-capped shoulders, as if they were no more heavier than a couple of pillows.

“Ahhh…lightweight!”
 
It was a scene straight out of a comic book. It was simply cartoonish to imagine how strong she must have been to be able to lift, not one, but two mutant bulls over her shoulders just like that.

Savannah, Summer, Alexandra and Brianna did the same. The next four biggest Belgian Blue bulls were theirs, and each slung a bull over their backs and followed Sophia up the slope towards the foot of the hill.

“See you at the top!” Sophia said, and just as casually as an Olympian runner, she sprinted her way up, with the other four girls, not too far behind. If any of them showed any sign that the bulls weighed anything at all (let alone 3000 pounds each), they weren’t showing it. All they were showing, was an incredible display of stamina, fitness and muscle power. Boa could see their leg muscles exploding as they started their climb. When they lifted those bulls, Boa swore the girls expanded almost another 2 inches in size. The bulls were like monster trucks next to an average man, and no man stood a chance if they charged at them. They would be squashed. But because of how enormous Sophia was, the bulls looked significantly smaller, and when she lifted them up, they didn’t look oversized at all, they looked…appropriate for her. She looked stable. Placing these bulls over any other man would be like balancing an orange over a toothpick, but in Sophia’s case, or any of the girls here, it seemed far more appropriate, like an orange over a beer glass.

“Impressive isn’t it? Someday, that will be me,” a voice next to her said.

Boa turned to see who was talking to her. She was greeted by a stud of a woman: brunette with wavy hazel hair, tanned olive skin, prominent cheekbones and luscious lips, reminding Boa of a young Madison Beer, Kim Kardashian or Ariana Grande. But those sensual feminine features didn’t stop her from building this titan of a body. The first thing that caught Boa’s attention were this girl’s shoulders, which was disproportionately larger than any other body part. It was like a lady being stuffed into NFL grade shoulder pads, only this time, the shoulder pad was made of flesh and muscle. Her shoulders were her best parts and she knows it. She was packing as much muscle as Cassandra and Paula, but her shoulders had theirs beat. Delts like boulders capped firmly on each side like reinforced armour, and traps rising high like two mountains almost touching her ears. The girl folded her arms dominantly in front of her to accentuate her size and with shoulders as big as hers, she looked tough, amazingly tough. And wide, very wide, despite her innocent and elegant facial features.

A quick scan at the rest of her body revealed a level of conditioning that was quite impressive as well. It was just that her prominently built shoulders took all the attention away from the rest of her body. But seeing her now, Boa swore that this girl was contest ready, with a compact set of abs: eight bulging slabs of muscles like apples around her cute little bellybutton, pecs that could easily bench 500 pounds for reps and legs reflective of years of insane leg presses.

“I’m Mikaela,” the girl said, holding out a hand, and blowing out a kiss with her perky lips. When she spoke, she had an air of sensuality in her tone, a lustful provocation with every phrase she delivered.

“Boa, Boa Hancock,” Boa said, accepting the handshake.

“Oh I know who you are. You got everyone talking. Most Muscular Award, among the rookies. I wish I had won that, when I was a rookie.”

“You look like you could…you’re ripped!”

“I am, aren’t I? But at that time, not as ripped as Paula. But after six months of intense training, and an additional 200 pounds of muscle later, I could say I could easily beat her now,” Mikaela twisted into an impressive side triceps pose, right leg outstretched to further entice her audience with the thick mass over her thighs and calves.

“You put on 200 pounds in 6 months?” Boa was agape.

“Is that surprising? I certainly didn’t get this ripped by lying on my bed the whole day. Although, if I wanna have a shot at the top 8, I would need to get even bigger!” she turned to her female Belgian Blue, and with one loud grunt, snatched it off the floor and cleanly balanced it over her giant shoulders. “Oof, now that is satisfying! This cow is over 2000 pounds. I AM getting stronger!” Mikaela said, checking out her glorious left bicep, bulging angrily out of her flesh like an oversized shotput, the two pencil-thick veins inflating to the size of whiteboard markers as she pumped up her flex.

Boa, not wanting to be shown up by this new acquaintance of hers, grabbed her own cow, a young Charolais barely out of its calf years, weighing almost 1200 pounds. The hardest part was generating enough power to lift it off the ground, but with the help of her powerful legs and solid core muscles, she managed to bring it over her back with success. She did squat 1200 pounds before, but the feat almost knocked the wind out of her, but she willed herself to carry on, considering the insanity of this institute. These girls were lifting hundreds of pounds heavier than her, so she didn’t want to seem like a wimp on her first day.

“Not bad, on your first try. Now try to keep up,” Mikaela said and with that, she dashed across the courtyard and up onto the path going up the hill.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

The run lasted a little more than 15 minutes, both uphill and downhill. Sophia completed in just under 4 minutes, which was just INSANE considering the hill’s vertical height was almost 2600 feet, and two gigantic 3000 pound bulls on her back. She also held the institute record for the past 4 years. Boa did surprisingly well, but that was without almost throwing up right before reaching the peak, and almost losing balance coming down. Anyways, she did way better than her new rookies, who surprisingly also managed to complete the run. To be honest, Boa was expecting almost half the rookies to give up and puke halfway. But they all had 1000+ pounds of meat over their backs, and they made pretty good pace. Fiona wasn’t joking when she said this was the top 1% of bodybuilders in the world, because seriously, these girls were brutal in their dedication. Boa was lucky she managed to not lose out and in fact, completed one of the fastest runs among the rookies. Still, seeing how the rest were following closely behind, she had her work cut out for her.

Mikaela was done for almost 5 minutes, and her Belgian Blue was being carted off to the kitchen when Boa joined her at the finish line. And Mikaela was only half sweating. Still, the dampness in her skin plus the olive tan decorated with deeply chiselled cuts separating her individual muscle groups, she looked very sexy. And the run must have turned her on because her perky pink nipples on her 38D sized breasts were bullet hard right now.

“Ohhh that feels soooo good!” the female stud said, and tossed her hair out, a scene perfect for a shampoo commercial. Boa felt a sudden dampness in her labia. “So, Boa, how was that?”

Boa tossed her cow into one of the carts to be sent to the slaughterhouse. “Yeah, it was…refreshing. I did better than I expected.”

“Good. You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” Mikaela said.

Boa blushed. “Well, you asked me to keep up…I just wanna ask…have I seen you somewhere before?”

Mikaela grinned coyly. “Well, five years ago, I was on Sports Illustrated, and the face of Swarovski…, and my late husband was Sir Alistair Carlton-Hughes.”

“Oh my God! You’re Mikaela Kruger! The fitness supermodel!”

“Guilty.”

Boa heard of Mikaela Kruger (nee Carlton-Hughes). She was a German-born supermodel in her early days, landing deals with Swarovski, Sports Illustrated, Vogue, The Black Tape Project and H&M. But she found her true passion in fitness. At 21, she won the Bikini category in the Olympia and Arnold Classic, and that same year, got married to 65-year-old British fashion and cosmetics tycoon, Sir Alistair Carlton-Hughes. That didn’t stop her from pursuing her fitness goals, winning her second Miss Bikini Olympia the year later. However, at 24 her husband died of a heart attack and she inherited a huge chunk of his estate. Amidst her grief, she delved even deeper into bodybuilding and later that year, she was literally unstoppable in the bikini category, sweeping the golden treble: Miss Bikini Olympia, Arnold Classic and IFBB World Championships. That was when Fiona approached her, and six months later, here she was now, doubling down on her bodybuilding efforts, putting on huge amounts of muscle mass, tripling her size, and showing off a body that was bigger, better, harder and stronger than ever before. Previously a high-demand supermodel, now a female muscle stud.

“Wow, you’ve gotten…”

“HUGE? RIPPED? INVINCIBLE?” Mikaela teased, going into a hands-clasped most muscular pose just to prove her point. “I know…I get that a lot.” She did an alternating pec bounce: left, right, left, right, with her cinderblock chest muscles.

“Well, your pec bounce is better than my husband’s. And your shoulders, he would die to have shoulders like yours.”

Mikaela chuckled. “Well, that’s because I bench SUPER heavy. I can bench 5 sets of 680 pounds for 20 reps, but my max is around 1200 pounds. And I do A LOT of shoulder presses. You wanna feel them?”

Boa inched closer and placed a light tap on Mikaela’s bursting pectorals. An electric shock-like sensation coursed through her spine. She gasped. Mikaela noticed it, and smiled.

“Don’t be shy, Boa.”

And Boa just went full-on worship mode, running her hands all over Mikaela’s shoulders, chest and every other inch of her glorious body. The supermodel-turned-bodybuilder basked in her friend’s newfound lust. Boa just couldn’t help it, and unhesitatingly sucked on Mikaela’s hard nipples.

“Hmmm…mmmm…” Mikaela moaned. “But that’s enough…”

“Oh my God, my husband is a bodybuilder, just like you, but something about you…touching you, worshipping you…it’s different. You body, your muscles, they’re just incredible. You’re just harder, more vascular…”

“That’s because your husband has 2% bodyfat. I’ve seen him yesterday, and that’s obese by New Themyscira standards. Me? I’m made of pure muscle, and I’m shredded to the core. Last week, my bodyfat was 0.0013%. And i’m 360 pounds, going on 365!”

“360 pounds?” Boa was shocked. “That’s as heavy as my husband! But you don’t look bigger than my husband…except for the shoulders…”

“Ha! That’s because my muscles are denser. I may not look bigger, but in reality, I pack more muscle per volume of bodyweight than your husband ever had. So if we’re the same size, I’m definitely heavier. And I have yet to reach my full limit. I’m already more jacked than he is, more shredded, more dense and more vascular. And in a couple of months, I’ll be bigger than he is, much bigger.”

“Say, Dr Rottweiler says sexual intercourse increases muscle mass by 15% or something like that…you wanna…build some muscle…?”

Mikaela chuckled. “Girl…you’re soooo naughty! But of course! We have one hour for Meal 1 but I can devour my beef in less than 30 minutes. That leaves us plenty of time to…build muscles…”

And with that, Mikaela casually grabbed Boa and tossed her over her massive shoulder, and headed off to her room, the two ladies giggling excitedly like a couple of high school girls. It was the first time Boa had been carried by a girl, and a gorgeous one at that. That face (fit for the covers of Vogue and Sports Illustrated), with that musculature (fit to challenge the top 10 in the Mr Olympia, and easily dwarfing the men in the 212 Olympia). That was a sign of her beauty and power.

“Next time, when you get bigger, YOU will carry me!” Mikaela said to Boa.

“Oh you can count on it! I’m gonna make the top 8, and I hope you will be there with me!”

“Like BFFs huh?”

“Like BFFs…with benefits…” Boa winked, and Mikaela responded by blowing another kiss.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 9

Mikaela tossed Boa’s limp body onto the bed, satisfied with the work she had done. She basically wrecked Boa. The female muscle stud brandished her monster 12-inch strap-on, proud of the power it had over her sexual partners. For years, Mikaela had been the lady with the strap on, and countless men and women had submitted to her dominance. More so now that she had the emasculating bodybuilder’s physique to go with that monster cock of hers. She rubbed her strap-on dick with her left hand, all the while flexing that shotput-sized right bicep of hers, admiring this scene in the full body mirror in front of her. God, she was glorious. And after all that pounding and thrusting, she had gotten bigger too. Those broad shoulders now almost too wide to fit into the mirror, or the doorway, without having to turn to her side.

“God!” she went into a full most muscular pose, checking those bursting veins as she pumped up harder and harder, the giant strap-on dick standing in attendance. “I wish I had a dick!”

“Why is that?” Boa asked, groggy.

“With my muscles, and this enormous cock…I can get anything I want, and no one would dare to say no to me. This isn’t just muscle and dick, this is power!” Mikaela said, and she flexed out her biggest most muscular pose she had ever seen herself done, and almost came watching her own incredible power in the mirror, veins bursting and fibres rippling.

“Come here,” Boa said.

Mikaela sauntered over to the bed, hands on her hips like Wonder Woman, conquest style.

Boa ran her hands over the dick, before fondling over the eight solid slabs of muscle on Mikaela’s midsection, the bumps and edges almost giving her another round of spontaneous orgasms. Boa had one of the best abs in the world, and even magazine readers voted for her, but they must have left out Mikaela’s abs because this girl’s eight pack was out of this world. There was nothing but steel in there.

“Let me flex for you,” Mikaela said.

“That wasn’t flexing?” And Boa had her answer, the powerful chunks of muscular bricks just exploded in her hands, contracting into an invincible set of armour that could crush even diamonds in between its crevices.

“Mmm…nothing but steel!” Boa said.

“That’s when you know they’re hard…”

“Not even Mike has abs like yours…”

“No one has abs like mine,” Mikaela said. “400 bicycle crunches, 400 weighted hanging leg raises, 400 Russian twists and 500 cable crunches.” Then she slammed her own abdomen with her fist. “This is the result. Pure muscle!”

Mikaela then took two quarters from the table and placed one over her bellybutton and the other over Boa’s. Then they each flexed their abs as hard as possible. In less than 2 seconds, Mikaela felt the coin give way underneath her navel and true enough, she managed to snap the metal coin in half, with hardly a fraction of her full abdominal strength. Boa took a bit longer, around 10 seconds, but eventually, they both heard a crack and she too, managed to break the coin in half with her abs.

“Nice, girl! Seems like you’re not too bad yourself,” Mikaela complimented.

Boa struck a full thighs and abdominals pose in the mirror, admiring her own shredded physique: cable-like striations in her oak-trunk thighs and washboard abs, she could definitely hold her own here. She felt the impressive bumps in her eight pack, and traced that juicy vessel running over them.

“Well, Mikaela, you gotta know, I was crowned Miss Physique Olympia when I came. I still am. And I’m at least twice your size when you first joined six months ago. In another six months, I would be bigger, much bigger, than you are now. And the thought of that…excites me. I can’t wait…to get HUGE!” And Boa went into her signature Boa Dynamite pose…just oozing with confidence.

Mikaela quickly grabbed on to her new BFF and started thrusting her strap on into Boa’s luscious pussy in a “stand and carry” sex position. Seeing how Mikaela was the alpha stud, she had to milk every single moment of her dominance before Boa inevitably overtakes her and the dynamic shifts. Boa would get her own strap-on, which would be EVEN bigger, and knowing how much strength she was capable of, Boa was going to manhandle her.

The two girls gave each other a passionate kiss.

“I’m gonna do soooo much growing tonight!” Boa said.

Eventually, they had to head off to their next session. Mikaela removed her strap on, treating it as if it was some sort of championship wrestling belt, and placed it on the mantle.

The next session was the Pain Endurance Session.

It was held at the laboratory next to the main complex, run by Dr Carla Rottweiler. The entire place was state-of-the-art. It was a bit weird looking at so many naked, fit-looking female scientists carrying out a multitude of experiments. A trainee was running on a treadmill, a series of electrodes to her entire body, while a group of tanned, gorgeous looking scientists looked on, each one of them fit enough to take part in any Figure contest. Another trainee was lying prone on an examination couch, her back muscles bulging out like rocks on a cliff, when another naked scientist injected a greenish liquid into her firm buttocks.

The Pain Endurance Lab was located on the building’s third floor. Once out of the elevator, they were greeted by a narrow corridor with glass panels on both sides.

“I have to join my class. I’ll be seeing you…BFF…” Mikaela said, blowing Boa a kiss.

The group of rookies went past a series of rooms, each with glass panels for walls, and Boa found herself extremely curious as to what exactly this “Pain Endurance Training” entailed. The first room, they observed a group of trainees, most of them big enough to prove that they were here at the institute for at least a couple of years, calmly meditating…but to the sound of heavy metal. Another room, a group of even bigger trainees, running through an indoor obstacle course, their nude sweaty bodies, glistening sexily in the light, each one with nothing but unwavering grit etched in their faces, their brutal screams and grunts echoing past even the glass walls. And towards the last room at the very end, they were greeted by a short redhead, almost 5 foot 3 and barely out of her late twenties…with a equally red but well-trimmed bush over her labia, sporting a physique that could overshadow a male gymnast in a flex off.

“Welcome, bodybuilders, to the Pain Endurance Lab. My name is Dr Talia Warren, one of the experts in the field of pain research. If you would kindly follow me please.”

She escorted them into the final room in the corner, which turned out to be one of the largest rooms on the floor. Exercise equipment were everywhere and there was already a team of scientists working on a fellow bodybuilder by the time they entered.

One of the rookies asked, “Wow, even you scientists here look ripped to the core.”

“And why is that surprising?”

The question silenced the room. There was an ominous air of authority in that voice, and when everyone turned to its source, they could see why. One of the scientists was sitting behind a chair, facing the computer and with her back towards the entrance. Because of the chair, they couldn’t really make out the figure or who it was. But now, this woman was standing up, the seat sprung back up slightly as the weight of this woman was relieved from the chair, and every single one of the rookies gasped. The human being that emerged made the chair look like a kindergarten stool, and when she stood next to her team of scientists, she clearly dwarfed them almost 2-3 times. She was the only one wearing a lab coat, but it was oversized even for an obese man, but for her, her entire figure stretched out the fabric to the point of breaking, the buttons struggling to hold everything together. When she turned to face her audience, it took a while to recognise who she was. Her last public appearance showed her in a nerdy, wide-framed, browline spectacles, with her hair usually tied in a bun. Now, she upgraded to a pair of contact lenses which showed her natural features, and she let her jet black hair flow freely now. She barely aged a bit, and in fact, despite being almost 50, she barely looked older than her mid thirties. A product of the onsite, plastic surgery clinics, no doubt. Either way, she was beautiful. And huge, very huge.

She paused to observe the shocked expressions of her new audience, absorbing their insecurities as fuel for her own confidence. She inhaled deeply, as if trying to smell their fear in the air and gently stroked her hair back, feeling satisfied at the restrictive tightness of her coat, and the sound of the fabric stretching out to its limit.

“Good morning. As you all know, I’m Dr Carla Rottweiler. The chief scientist of this lab. As you all know I am one of the leading experts in the field of sports science specialising in female bodybuilding. Every single aspect of your training and nutrition here is a product of my evidence-based research. If you have any doubts on any of my methods, I am very happy to help you clear those doubts once and for all. Allow me to show you.”

And then, she drew in a deep breath and took a powerful step forward, stomping her bare feet hard on the metallic floor. With one foot forward, and another bent slightly backwards, balanced on the balls of her foot, she brought her incredible arms up in a dynamic front double bicep, and unhesitatingly unleashed the full might of her incredible arms. Just as easily as if they were made of paper, the sleeves of her lab coat were vanquished into a thousand tiny pieces, the fabric giving way in a loud rip and pop. What emerged was an enormous and well-defined set of arms, with bicep peaks the size of handballs.

She then slid into a crab pose most muscular, sending the rest of her power into the expansion of her chest and back, and surely enough, her growth could no longer be contained by what remained of her lab coat. The last pieces of fabric gave way, revealing the truly nude glory of this legendary bodybuilder, with a hulking chest lined with detailed fibres, a mountainous back layered with stone-hard lumps and washboard abs. Even her fair, beige skin looked like it was glowing. She was in the same generation of bodybuilders like Fiona, although she had never placed higher than Fiona when they were competing. But now, while Fiona had retired and relinquished her prime physique (even though Fiona could still very well take on Iris Kyle and Yaxeni Oriquen), Carla on the other hand, had tripled up in her muscle building efforts, and right now, she looked much better than she had when she was competing. The biggest injustice to the world was having someone as ripped and huge as Carla, not take part in the Olympia. She may not be as big as Savannah or Summer Harrison, but she could very well pose up next to them in the comparisons, and still look like she could cause an upset.

“So, anyone wants to question my methods?”

Silence.

“Good. Now, come over here and observe. This is our subject for today.” Carla beckoned them over to see the bodybuilder that they were working on. Just when Boa thought she couldn’t be surprised any longer, here she was, again.

Despite the invincible hulk out session demonstrated by Carla, she was not the biggest bodybuilder in the room. This title would go to the trainee they were observing. Boa recognised her immediately. It was Jillian Murphy, and she would later find out that Jillian was one of the earliest bodybuilders to be inducted into the New Themyscira Institute. If Sophia was the Top 1 bodybuilder here, Jillian may well be the Top 2 because she could just destroy the Harrison twins. She was humungous! With the symmetry and conditioning to come with it. She was the whole package. At 6 foot 9, and almost 420 pounds of herculean muscle, Jillian looked like she could destroy a bulldozer. Jillian Murphy was currently 35 years old, and a mother of 3. She took up bodybuilding after accompanying her friend to a local show. That was when she decided, “I wanna look like that.” Previously an overweight, sleep-deprived housewife, she managed to transform her post-pregnancy tummy and pack it up with muscle, creating one of the world’s most impressive ten-pack. Once, she was cradling her baby in a flabby arm full of chunky fat, but now, she was carrying her kid in arm filled with balls of hard muscle. You should have seen her pictures. Fully flexed, her biceps were bigger than her 3-year-old’s head. Before, it was her firefighter husband who carried her to bed, but now the roles were reversed, and it was her carrying her husband up the stairs into their room, because no man could carry a woman packed with 320 pounds of pure muscle. But a woman packed with 320 pounds of pure muscle could carry a man of the same weight and more. She outweighed her husband by a full 100 pounds, outgrown him by half a head, and was three times his size. Her husband! 6 foot 5 and having played basketball and gridiron football in college. Seven years ago, she debuted in the Miss Olympia, narrowly losing out to Fiona Harrison who took home her 11th Miss Olympia title. But this newbie gained Fiona’s respect and was invited to the New Themyscira Institute. From there, she could only get bigger. The last time she saw her husband was on the 4th of July this year, and by God, she just completely emasculated him! But now, at 420 pounds, she was double his weight, a full head taller, five times wider, four times thicker, and ten times stronger. Heck, she could lift an entire car! During their dinner party, when her husband invited his firefighter colleagues over, she suggested a tug-of-war in the yard. Her alone against 10 firefighters. Guess who won? She did, and very easily…as the men lasted only eight seconds against her and she ended up dragging their bodies almost 20 yards across the lawn. And in bed, she completely dominated her man, in both strength and stamina, and she was always the big spoon. Luckily, her husband loved female muscle or otherwise, he would be so humiliated. It wasn’t everyday you get to say that your wife has the strength of more than 10 grown men. Her kids even ended up calling her “Muscle Mommy”. And instead of saying, “I bet my dad could beat up your dad!” to their friends, they would be saying “My mom could straight up destroy your dad!”. And it was true, any other dads wouldn’t stand a chance. Not even 10 dads at the same time. And when it came to the other moms? With all the resources in the Institute, Jillian could very well be the prettiest mother in their neighbourhood. She had the strength and physique to put any man to shame, and the grace and beauty to make any woman tremble with insecurity. A mission success for the institute, the epitome of a perfect graduate. A motherly, female muscle stud!

Currently, Jillian was in full focus, her teeth tightly gritted, sweat drenching her pearl beige skin, muscles and veins exploding as she held up a thick metal bar, in a half barbell curl position. The bar was one of those state-of-the-art electromagnetic weights that the Institute was famous for. For girls as big as Jillian, a proper barbell curl would require at least 20 plates on each side. The bar would just snap! Which is why she would be better off using electromagnetic weights, with just a bar but coupled with an electromagnet, providing invisible weights that no barbell could reach. Right now, the screen on the computer showed 4000 pounds and she was holding this for the past 30 minutes!

“As you can see, Jillian here is trying really hard not to let the bar drop onto the ground. And considering it’s equivalent to 4000 pounds of free weights, and the time she has been holding it, it looks difficult enough,” Carla said, as Jillian grunted slightly, her entire body just monstrously pumped from the exertion of the feat. “But that is not all. This is pain endurance training! 30 minutes ago, we have injected her with this!”

Carla picked up an empty syringe, in which the label wrote “450V electric shock”. 

“This is one of my proudest inventions. The pain serum. Each serum gives you a different level of pain on the spectrum, it’s effects lasting exactly 30 minutes.” With that, her assistant, Dr Talia, opened a briefcase containing two dozen vials, each filled with a greenish liquid and labels on top of it. “On one end, we have the beginner’s serum, giving pain sensations equivalent to ‘Child birth’, ‘Kidney stones’ and ‘Appendicitis’. Then we have moderate pain like ‘Falling off cliff’, ‘Acid attack’ and ‘Breaking bones’. Then we have the more severe pains…like the one Jillian is on now…and the ones Sophia Harrison is using. Examples include ‘Burning lava’ and ‘450V electric shock’. And you may ask, why on Earth are we torturing these girls? Well, if you ask me, if you wanna be the best bodybuilders out there, you gotta have grit! NO PAIN, NO GAIN! This is to train you to endure any sort of pain your workout gives you! It increases your pain tolerance to the max. And once you get used to even the most severe forms of pain, workouts will be a breeze for you! You will be able to push through ten extra reps and even three extra sets! All this goes a long way into building muscles like these!” Carla explained. With that, Carla twisted into a ¾ back pose, displaying the insane definition within the rocks of muscle that made up her incredible back. She flexed and unflexed her arms a few more times, driving the blood up into her biceps, and with that, thundered out a peak the size of a handball.

“URRRRGGGGHHHH, YEAH, FUCKING HUGE!”

“NO PAIN! NO GAIN!” Jillian echoed with gritted teeth.

“Exactly!” And then Carla showed them another empty syringe, labelled ‘Strangling python’. “And this…was mine. I injected myself ten minutes before you came. Ooooohhhh, I feel so alive!”

Did she just say that she was flexing out of her lab coat and explaining this whole science, all the while with the pain of being strangled by a python coursing through her body? This sort of pain was lethal but if anything, Carla acted as if she didn’t feel a thing!

Suddenly, there was a ‘ding’ of the bell and Jillian finally dropped the bar. Her session was over. Rejoiced at her success, she flexed out a grotesque and frightening most muscular pose, admiring the beautiful monster she had become, packed to the bone with monster muscles and monster veins that would make male Mr Olympias look anorexic by comparison, all this with a facial complexion that would turn Heidi Klum and Candice Swanepoel green with envy.  And don’t get fooled by her size. Despite the monstrous mass, she still had the best proportions and symmetry fit for a champion bodybuilder, without the bubble gut that some were sporting. No. Her waist was proportionately thin and shredded, expanding widely upwards into a perfect V-taper.

And she wasn’t done. Dr Talia grabbed a 220-pound solid steel-forged sledgehammer next to the computer, the hammer head almost the size of a rugby ball, and smashed it straight into Jillian’s midsection. It reminded me of Thor’s hammer, only bigger and heavier. But once it struck Jillian’s  muscle-reinforced abdomen, the wooden grip snapped in half, the hammer head bouncing harmlessly off the dense flesh. Jillian laughed, giving her chiselled, marble-cut ten-pack a tight slap, before striking a sexy thighs and abdominals pose, indicating that she wasn’t even flexing when the hammer hit. “HRRRMPPHHH! MMMMM! OH YEAH! What did you hit me with? A mosquito bite?”

That same hammer was used to dent cars and knock down concrete columns, and once sent a sedan rolling onto its side, but it was like a toy hammer against the might of Jillian’s abs. Jillian then strutted over to pick up the hammer head, holding the 220-pound chunk of solid steel in her hand and comparing it to the size of her biceps, which was obviously bigger. Like bowling balls! She then scrunched up the piece of metal in her one hand, the steel no match for her as she moulded it in her fist like a piece of dough. Eventually, the hammer head, which was previously the size of a rugby ball, was now reduced to the size of a scrunched up piece of paper. Jillian dropped it, the dense metal forming a huge dent in the metallic floor.

Jillian’s naked nipples were now bullet hard, and she rubbed her strong hands over her 36E sized boobs, bulging firmly off her thick slabs of shredded pectoralis majors. All that flexing and showing off made at least half the rookies cum on the spot, and seeing the vaginal juices piling up on the floor, it gave Jillian an idea.

She pointed at the prettiest rookie she could find. “You there, what’s your name?”

“Boa. Boa Hancock.”

“Well, Boa Hancock. You are married to Mike Hancock, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m also married myself. And I have 3 small kids who just idolises me. And who could blame them? I’m literally the world’s strongest mom, and not every kid can tell their friends that their mom is able to bench press an entire truck! Anyways, you like what you see huh? Well, I love to reward my fans. Tonight, 11 o’ clock. My room. Don’t be late. Your husband is big, but you’re about to find out what REAL muscle feels like.”

And with that, Jillian strutted her way towards the exit, her sweaty but intoxicating, pheromone-filled body odour wafting past Boa, and the last thing Boa remembered about that episode, was Jillian’s massive back, its size overshadowing two doorframes, the layers upon layers of intense muscle sculpted in the form of a demon’s face, staring back at her like the monster Jillian had built herself into.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 10

The rookies were all ordered to pop out their firm muscular butts in order for the scientists to properly inject the pain serum into their system. It only took less than two minutes before the girls started feeling the intense effects of the serum. Carla decided to start them off with something easy: pain equivalent to ‘Child Birth’. But Boa. Boa was not here for child’s play. She wanted to be the best, and she couldn’t wait to get as big as Jillian, which Boa had now made into her idol. Mikaela was still her BFF, but Mikaela was tiny compared to Jillian. Jillian was enormous! And Boa wanted that body, and better. She wanted to be even bigger than Jillian!

So in order to do that, she would need to push herself to the limit. She needed to be a psycho.

“Dr Carla! I want something harder. I want ‘Breaking bones’!” Boa requested.

There was a moment of surprise from Carla and at the same time, respect for Boa’s request. “‘Broken bones? No one starts off with the moderate thresholds. Are you sure, my dear?”

“Yes! The Top 8 selections are in a year, and I have no time to waste!”

“Well, I admire your perseverance. Well then, it’s your funeral,” Dr Carla said. And with that, grabbed the relevant syringe and jabbed it into Boa’s pumped up glutes.

Boa felt the surge of the liquid enter her bloodstream. Just as soon as that, she was hurried off to the electromagnetic weight bars and Dr Carla punched in 500 pounds on the machine. She held the bar up like a half-barbell curl and suddenly felt the force of the electromagnet pulling the bar towards the floor. Her baseball sized biceps exploded, the veins throbbing as she pushed herself to hold the bar in place.

“Anyone who drops the bar will be deducted 200 points. You can say so long to your precious top 8 spot!” Dr Carla said. “It’s cases like these that I think I’m better off competing rather than you all.” She pumped up her huge handball-sized biceps and worshipped the bulging mass she had so passionately built into her flesh. “Mmmm…I’m so much bigger than any one of you!”

Just then, the large digital timer in the end of the room flicked to life, showing 30 minutes…and counting down with every tick. The challenge had begun. Each rookie had to last for 30 minutes.

“Let me show you bitches how it’s done,” Carla bragged. She then grabbed an extra large syringe, almost double the size given to the rookies, with the label “Acid Attack” on it. She then unhesitatingly jabbed it into her solid volleyball-sized gluteals, and relished the coursing power the serum had given her. “GAHHHHHH! URRRRGGGHHH! YEAAAHHHH!” She then proceeded to an unoccupied electromagnet and punched in 1000 pounds (double of what she set for the rookies), and instead of just holding it in mid-air, she was literally doing barbell curls with the machine!

Just then, Boa felt a slight tingling in her forearms, and then suddenly…CRACK! It was as if strong hands (like Jillian’s or Carla’s or Mikaela’s) had grabbed her limbs and snapped them in half. But looking at her arms, they were still intact. It was the illusion of broken bones that made her felt that way, a trick that the serum made her brain to think. That was how the pain came about. A chemical illusion created by the serum. And from there, the sensation spread all over her body. She felt her humerus cracking, her ribs breaking, her femurs twisting, her tibias snapping! One by one, every single one of her bones giving way in excruciating detail. She heard screams coming from all the other rookies, as they felt the illusion of their cervix being pulled apart in labour, and as one trainee put it: a demon baby or an alien xenomorph aggressively forcing their way through their abdomen, despite their steel-armoured six-packs. Either way, there was no dilating cervix, placenta or distended stomachs in the room. Their bodies were all still intact, muscles and abs still rippling…even more, in fact, due to the exertion. It was just the serum that was tricking their brain into thinking they were about to die.

No matter what happened, Boa kept telling herself “NO! It is not real! I can take this!”and forced herself to grip the electromagnetic bar even tighter. In the distance, she could hear the menacing laugh of Dr Carla Rottweiler as she amused herself with the sight of these newbies. She was somewhere in her 30th rep already, and all this with the full force of an ‘acid attack’ vaporising her entire body’s flesh (or the feeling of it). In the corner of her eye, Boa could see Dr Carla having some sort of a psychotic second wind, her eyes bulging out of her sockets, bright red, with every muscle and vein in her body bursting into a grotesque frenzy of excitation.

It was the longest 30 minutes of Boa’s life. Besides the suffering in her bones and the failure in her biceps from holding the bar, the next greatest torture was watching the timer taking its own sweet time counting down the seconds to 0. By 15 minutes, the first girl passed out and by the 8th minute, another one. But Boa knew better than to give up. It was the hardest task she ever had to do, and she was sure every other trainee here had the same thoughts. Eventually 5 minutes left. 4. 3. 2. And then 1. Finally the buzzer sounded then the timer reached 0:00.00, and every girl dropped her bar onto the floor with a loud thud. Except Carla, who in her insanity, ripped out another 20 more reps in her 600-rep set of 1000 pound electromagnetic curls.

And just like that, the pain disappeared as quickly as it came. Boa laid on the floor, her sweaty body drenching the metallic tiles. Carla, now looking absolutely gigantic, almost as big as Jillian, as a result of her insane pump, went over to the two girls who gave up and grabbed them both by the necks, easily lifting them off the ground.

“Absolutely pathetic! And I can’t believe Fiona believed you to be the top 1%! You lift like men, when you should actually be lifting like WOMEN! I could smash both your bodies onto this floor right now and literally break every single bone of your body! How do I know? Because I have tried it on two wimps before, but they’re guys. Seeing how you’re just as pathetic, why shouldn’t I do the same? It will be brutal! Not even falling off the Empire State Building would do as much damage as I can do to you!” Eventually Carla decided against it and just tossed them to the side like rag dolls.

“As for you all, congratulations on passing your first session. Same time tomorrow. And as for you, Hancock, an extra 100 points for you on your higher difficulty. I look forward to an arm wrestling challenge against you, when you grow as big as me,” Carla said, flexing out a formidable side chest, one that could put any male bodybuilder to shame. “Now off to your next session!”

After that was a brutal workout session in the main complexes’ third floor. But the highlight of the day was what happened after that. After that was meals, and it was followed by the beauty class and posing sessions. The rookies were escorted to the top floor of the main complex, where the Fiona Harrison Auditorium was located. That room was filled with a couple hundred seats, but a grand stage fit for any prestigious bodybuilding contest. The walls were fitted with mirrors for now, in preparation for the day’s class. Boa, feeling pumped after the morning workout sessions, swore that when she looked into the mirror, she had grown another inch on every body part. She was looking more and more like a champion male Classic Physique bodybuilder, capable of standing next to Chris Bumstead and going toe-to-toe with him in terms of size, definition and aesthetics, only she had the advantage of ample boobs and a well-groomed vagina. She turned around and admired her back, and it was an impressively thick back, with dense hard flesh rising up to at least 3 inches from the crevices of her spine, the layered knotting of muscles on her back forming a symmetrical tapestry quite similar to a model of the Grand Canyon. Boa ran her hands over her iron flesh, before going into a size-doubling lat spread, impressed at the muscular progress she had made.

“Wow! I’m huge!” Boa said to herself.

Not just for a girl or any supermodel, but even compared to guys, she was huge! She remembered two of her boyfriends in college, a star 400m sprinter and a national swimmer. Looking at her body now, she was definitely bigger than them. Much bigger. Almost two times bigger. They used to be super proud of themselves for scoring a supermodel like her, parading her like a trophy girlfriend. Boa wondered how insane it would be if she showed up in front of their houses right now, in the incredible shape she was in, flexing this ripped body of hers, showing them just how huge she had become. But seeing how big the other women here were, she had to get even huger!

“Good afternoon ladies. I’m sure you have had a very busy morning, but the best do not rest until the day is done. Now, welcome, to Beauty and Poise 101,” a sultry-voiced Asian lady emerged from behind the curtains, displaying a naked body reminiscent of an ancient Spartan warrior. She wasn’t a mass monster like Sophia, Jillian or Dr Carla, but she still could put many male bodybuilders to shame. Capped veiny shoulders and beefy arms were the talking point of her muscular build, but her legs were no pushover either, with cable-like striations filling up her thighs, and since she preferred to walk on the balls of her bare feet, her calves were showing a strong amount of muscularity that would make a male Olympic cyclist green with envy. Her well-built six-packs and shark-gilled obliques were solid, much more aesthetic than the expensively moulded bronze armour that Spartan warriors used to wear to battle. I think they would be better off using her abs as a model for their armoured uniforms. Nevertheless, she had decorated her bellybutton with an exquisite diamond piercing, and she would have to be careful when twisting her midsection because her muscles looked like they could crush the jewellery into dust in between those deep crevices of her washboard six-packs, the six slabs of muscle rising and falling with every breath she took.

“My name is Dr Mary Lee, chief plastic surgeon on the premises and beauty consultant of the institute. I am also the personal posing coach for Savannah and Summer Harrison, and our achievements in the recent Olympia speak for themselves,” Dr Mary said, flicking her waist-level jet-black hair. It was long indeed, but it looked beautifully conditioned. Dr Mary was a gorgeous looking lady in her 40s, but looked no much older than the Kpop stars Boa had seen on TV. Double eyelids, peaked nose, dimpled smile, luscious lips and ample cheekbones, plus a busty set of 36D boobs and pumped-up glutes. Like everyone else here in the institute, she was a goddess.

“Today, we will be doing catwalks and compulsory poses. Bodybuilding poses, i’m sure you know why it’s relevant, but you might ask…why catwalking? Well, I’ll have you know ladies, that there is nothing more seductive than a huge female bodybuilder who not only knows how to crush the compulsory poses, but also, catwalk her way to centre stage.”

Boa raised her hand. “Will you be demonstrating for us?”

Dr Mary chuckled. “Oh no, silly, as ripped as I am, I’m afraid I am not the best person to show the perfect balance between feminity and muscularity. For that, we need someone much bigger, and much prettier. Ladies, let us welcome, Soyeon Park!”

Then, the lights dimmed and the spotlights were directed at the curtains, from which a cute head popped out. Soyeon grinned shyly at her audience, her raven hair tied neatly into a high ponytail. At first glance, she looked like a Kpop idol: young, not much older than 21 years old, with snow white skin and large hazel eyes. She looked so sweet. But then, the music blared from the speakers, a mixture of old school rock and EDM, like a WWE wrestler’s intro. Then, Soyeon pushed the curtains apart and what emerged was the most massive Asian girl that Boa had ever seen in her entire life. In Soyeon Park’s glorious nudity, she left nothing to the imagination. And that was a good thing, because no-one could actually imagine how enormous she was. If Sophia was Top 1, Jillian was Top 2, Soyeon was Top 3. Despite her delicately pedicured bare feet, every step she took with her humungous legs rattled the floor, the thunderous thumps of her footsteps sending chills down all her enemies’ spines. Attached to that cute innocent youthful face, was a physique that could humiliate any Mr Olympia line-up. For God’s sake, she was twice my size! Me being Mike Hancock. At 6 foot 8 and 420 pounds, she was a giantess. Strongman champion, Hafthor Bjornsson would be crushed by her bear hug and she could as well lift him off the ground with her bare hands.

But as monstrous as she was, as soon as she stepped onto stage, her strut was mesmerising, as if she had trained in the ways of Victoria’s Secret all her life. Her massive arms, casually swinging at her side, her feet on tiptoes, one foot in front of the other, confidently soaking in the spotlight and showing so much enjoyment in her catwalk. She had a pair of Ray-ban sunglasses, tucked sexily between her pec cleavage, and as she put them on, she looked like everyone’s dream girl. As she reached front stage, she placed one hand on her hips, before crushing out a right single bicep, the peak almost the size of a soccer ball. She pumped and unpumped her bicep, and even unflexed, her arm was bigger than a Mr Olympia’s thighs. But when she DID flex, it was mesmerising to see the muscle take shape, moulding into a well-defined, grotesque sphere made of pure dense feminine strength.

Soyeon was easily the biggest Asian Boa had ever seen, male or female. Being Asian herself, Boa had always followed Asian bodybuilders, and it was no doubt mass monsters like Hwang Chul-soon and Lee Seung-chul were the names on everybody’s mind. But right now, Soyeon was bigger. Much bigger. Not to mention much heavier, much drier, much more vascular and all around much more better conditioned. She was so enormous, she could lift Chul-soon with her right arm, and Seung-chul with her other arm, and bicep curl their 250+ pound bodies for reps. And that monster of a pussy of hers, with the fluffy throbbing labia and cherry-sized clit, looked like it could devour an entire stallion’s penis or even snap it in half.

Then, Soyeon churned out a series of Olympia winning flexes, further accentuating her demonic musculature, oozing confidence, power and sexuality. Every pose, backed-up with a sultry facial expression and a collection of sensual grunts, moans and purrs that would make any audience cum on the spot, regardless of whether they were straight or gay. And she was gorgeous. Utterly, heavenly gorgeous. She struck an Arnold-shaming side tricep, her boulder-sized and pumpkin-striated shoulders rippling from her flesh, adjacent to the lobster-clawed tricep with its numerous well-defined fibres, her tree-trunk-crushing thighs planted firmly to the ground.

As she held her pose, she let out an orgasmic moan, “Mmmm….oooohhhh….”, and gave us audience an inviting wink, before tightening every fibre in her body into an explosive flex, pumping her muscles into a dynamite frenzy, finally screaming out a satisfying “OHHHH YEAAAHHHH!” as she basked in the power of her magnificent body. It was a beautiful, flawless pose that showed off an incredible amount of muscle, and she knew it. She knew it all too well, the masterpiece she was showing off.

Then, she lifted her left foot from the floor and ran her toes provocatively down the muscle-bound right thigh of hers, past the cable-like adductors, past the sturdy pillars of her tapered knee joints, and down the grotesque beefiness and vascularity of her right calf. She released herself from the side tricep, bringing her arms up in an arc, showing off the insane thickness of her lats that formed her humanly impossible V-taper. She then placed both hands on her lips and blew us all a kiss, before smoothly folding her arms behind her head in preparation for a thighs and abdominals pose. With her left foot planted convincingly in front of her right, she gave us a full frontal view of her thunderous thighs – thighs that any of us girls would die for - her densely-built muscles like a couple of steel pythons wrapped tightly around her flesh, each cut and crevice well-defined and separated like a human anatomy chart, only much, much bigger in size. As she twisted her torso to get into a comfortable abdominals pose, she gave us one final kiss before sending her abs into an explosive frenzy. And one by one, the incredible muscles of her midsection rippled like waves on the shore, every muscle popping out from her flesh along with its network of veins and sinews. She had a ten-pack that any man or woman would die for, the three tortuous, finger-thick veins, running over them like rivers on a map, with rippling shark-gilled serratus and diamond-cut obliques adding to her fearsome abdominal architecture.

“HUUURRRR….MMMMM…BABY…FUCK YEAH!” Soyeon moaned, sliding her hand down those titanic plates of muscle she called abs, further teasing us with her power.

But the best part of hers were her pecs, absolutely man-shaming pecs. While most girls in the New Themyscira Institute opted to keep their breasts or get implants, Soyeon went all out to sculpt and build her chest with pure, dense muscle alone. As a result, her breast lost any evidence of female tissue, but to compensate, she was rewarded with the most muscular, and most masculine-looking chest in the world, which was absolutely sexy because of how emasculating it was. Here she was, sporting a chest that any man would die for, a chest of such masterpiece, it made Arnold and Ronnie Coleman’s chests look like kindergarten sculptures, and her pec measurements almost doubled theirs in terms of thickness, circumference and width. She had packed her chest with so much muscle, so much definition, so much size, and boy, did she show it! Unpumped, her pecs looked as if two medical textbooks were stuffed into her flesh on EACH side. But fully pumped, those pecs transformed into two sets of mighty granite boulders fit for trebuchets, with striations and blood vessels abound, boulders that rose almost 10 inches from the crevice of her sternum. Standing there, young Soyeon Park was a glorious sight to behold. A behemoth of a lady, with looks fit for paradise.

“There you have it, ladies, a posing routine fit for QUEENS,” Dr Mary said. “I’m sure all of you know how to pose, but now, we shall break you down into pieces and build you up from scratch because building a queen takes effort. And from here, you will learn advanced tips on flexing, plus stage presence, confidence, posedown routines, make-up, nude posing, non-nude posing, modelling and attire selection. You think you know how to pose? Think again. If you can beat my beloved Soyeon here,” Dr Mary wrapped her hands around the Korean bodybuilder’s gigantic arms, in which she gladly flexed out, “then you can leave. But until then, you are all mine!”

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 11

2 months had passed since the induction and Boa, I felt, was getting insanely obsessed with her training regime. Calls from her were few and far between, but whenever we talked, there was an air of coldness around her, like the times when we first met. To keep the mystery, she disallowed video calls completely and I could only gauge her well-being from her own voice. And she sounded…stressed, irritable? I don’t know, and she was always trying to rush off somewhere mid-call.

Even then, she couldn’t go on about how much muscle mass she gained. She put on 40 pounds of muscle over the past 2 months, reaching a whopping 235 pounds in bodyweight, definitely Men’s Classic Physique level. And she was getting taller too, just to balance out the extreme width she was gaining. She was now 6 feet tall.

“You say you’re big? How big are you?” I asked.

“At the rate i’m growing, I’d say pretty big. Huge even. To put it in perspective, let’s just say I can pretty flat out destroy the Men’s Classic Physique lineup.”

“Are you serious?” I asked one day. “That amount of growth and muscle is impossible for a woman. Are you sure they aren’t injecting you with steroids?”

“No, Mike, and I don’t appreciate that misogynistic tone. I’ve had it with you. And i’m done with the Miss Olympia! Pretty soon, us girls will be so big, we are gonna destroy all of you in the Mr Olympia!” Boa said.

I gulped. I just couldn’t put my head around it. I had seen how big these girls were, but how could they grow so big?

After that phone call, Boa told me that she headed over to the New Themyscira gym. Mikaela had an appointment at the beauty clinic so she was a bit late, but when she arrived, Boa was already on the bench press, and since most of the electromagnetic machines were occupied, Boa was using traditional barbells and weights. My little phone call with her really riled her up, and her entire beast mode was turned on. Mikaela wasn’t sure if it was the brutal grunts, the oversized weights stacked over bar, which by now was so dangerously bent out of shape from the insane amounts of weights stacked over it, or just the hulking physique lying on the bench, because when Mikaela approached, she thought it was a buffed-up man working out, but there were no men in the institute.

“ARRRRGHHH….URRRRRRGGGHHHH…ONE MOREEEE! URRRRRGHHHH!” the beastly ‘man’ screamed, but it was clear the voice was angrily feminine. And with a deafening “clang!”, she lowered the massive, car-crushing barbell over the rack, the contraption vibrating vigorously with the impact.

“Wow! Can she really bench 1200 pounds?” Mikaela asked.

“Yes, for 5 sets of 20. My max is way heavier though, but for today, I’m focusing on time under tension because I need to get ripped!”

Boa got up from the bench, looking absolutely shredded, and terrifying. The lighting at this corner of the gym wasn’t that great, which means the shadowy darkness really brought out an air of ominousness from her physique. Her solid, beefy arms were hanging widely at her side, her boulder-like shoulders flared, as if she was trying square you up and pick a fight. Have you ever seen Classic Male Physique champions like Breon Ansley or Chris Bumstead working out? They looked huge. And with this pump, Boa looked like she could outmuscle them all. Standing up, undoing the velcro straps of her lifting gloves, Boa was every bit their superior when compared to these men, sporting both a masculine and muscular body that they could only dream of achieving, even at contest level. While male bodybuilders carry about 2-4% body fat at competition level, and bulk to around 10% during pre-season, Boa was nowhere near that. Right now, even at almost 10 months off the next Olympia, she was sporting almost 0.5% body fat and it fucking showed because she was fucking ripped! Like grotesquely ripped. The body she was showing, while nowhere near as big as the Harrison sisters, or Jillian or Soyeon, was absolutely out of this world. And while Chris Bumstead or Breon Ansley had a fair amount of fat plus muscle to account for their bulkiness, Boa Hancock was pure muscle which means, despite being almost the same weight as her male counterparts, she was definitely much denser and was packing way more muscle mass. Every fibre and striation, well separated. The only thing that differentiated her from a fully masculine physique was the big ample breasts resting on the well-defined slabs of her jacked-up pectoralis majors, and her sexy Adonis belt, tapering into a cleanly-shaved luscious vaginal lip.

“Wow, I haven’t seen you in 3 days and look at you! You look fucking ripped girl!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. It’s hard to imagine just 5 years ago, I was just a bikini model starting out, showing a body that would make any female porn star jealous but now,” Boa flexed up a jaw-dropping, grapefruit-sized bicep, 21-inches thick as measured by her handmaidens this morning, and when Mikaela touched it, it was as hard as a steel ball. “I can stand on stage and humiliate half the male bodybuilders out there, and make any MALE porn star kill to have this body. At this rate, in another two months, I’ll be bigger than any Mr Olympia in history! See how hard and big my bicep is!”

“Well, it’s VERY hard…and big. You look like a Spartan warrior!”

“Oh please, I am MUCH bigger than a Spartan warrior. Much bigger. I’m a Goddess. I full-blown, hugely ripped, hugely muscled-up Goddess.”

“That’s why you’re the rookie to beat.”

It was true. Boa’s obsession and insanity was on a different level compared to the other rookies that were chosen. While the rookies were buffing up to Men’s Physique levels and surpassing the likes of Iris Kyle and Yaxeni Oriquen, Boa was growing faster and bigger than any of them. She was already lifting Belgian Blues day in, day out, and able to squat an entire car. She was also catching up with the more senior girls in the institute. She was now as big as Mikaela, and recently destroyed Paula and Cassandra in arm wrestling. The rookies hated her, but Boa didn’t come here to make friends. She was here to be the best.

“So who did you sleep with last night?” Mikaela asked.

Boa smiled.

Mikaela and Boa had been occasional sex partners throughout the past 2 months. Mikaela knew how to work her way with a strap-on, which meant she was getting a lot of booty calls besides Boa, so Boa had to find other means to satisfy herself. It was late last night, Boa was lying in a warm bath prepared by her handmaidens, two of them giving her arms and legs a stress-relieving massage, another gave her a mani-pedi and chief handmaiden Delia feeding her grapes. But the day’s brutal workouts were too adrenaline-pumping for Boa, and she was just feeling extremely horny. In the end, she couldn’t take it anymore. She emerged from the tub in all her muscular glory, and seeing she was twice the size and ten times the strength of any of these girls, she just completely overpowered and raped them, not that the girls were complaining. Rape was the accurate word here because even though the handmaidens enjoyed it, Boa just straight up forced her way into them. She needed sex so bad, and nothing was going to stop her. And I meant nothing. That time, Boa’s physique was already massive, much bigger than 90% of the men in the world and absolutely capable of overpowering them if she wished. She was the alpha here like the king lion of the pride, and these were all her lionesses. She pushed Delia over to the wall and slobbered all over the girl’s pussy, at the same time, using her strong, muscle-bounded hands, grabbed another handmaiden and stuffed her finger into the girl’s pussy and just straight up destroying her vagina. With one hand in the girl’s pussy, Boa masturbated using her other free hand, pumping up her beefy, veiny biceps with each thrust. The last two handmaidens were not free either, as in a show of incredible flexibility and strength, Boa wrapped a muscular leg around each of them, and pinned them to the floor. Then, she forced each of their thighs open and inserted her toes into the girls’ vaginas. There was so much screaming, both of pain and pleasure.

“Ohhhh Boa, fuck me! Take me!”

“Boa, Boa! Harder!”

“Don’t stop please!”

With her tongue in Delia’s pussy, right hand in her own, left hand in another vagina, and then fucking two others with both her feet, Boa was a lean, mean sex machine. Delia came first, and Boa took all that sweet vaginal fluid into her throat like a champ. Next were the two girls she fucked with her toes, and not wanting to waste the load, she directed her cum-covered toes into each of the girls’ mouths, in which they gladly accepted, licking every inch of her beautiful, supermodel feet, even the parts with no cum. Last was the girl in her left hand, and she too forced her to drink her own cum by making her lick the finger. But no matter how great she was to these girls, Boa couldn’t make herself cum, so she forced every one of the girls to take turns licking her pussy, violently grabbing their necks with her powerful hands and locking them in place with her thunderous thighs. Lying there, with her legs spread out, she was like a mummy dog, and the girls were like her puppies, scrambling against each other for her cum, fighting for space around her groin, each one of them worshipping the dense, hard slabs of abdominal muscles like shot-puts embedded into her flesh, rubbing their hands over her front double biceps which Boa so proudly flexed, a clear show of her level of dominance over them.

“That’s right, my bitches, worship me. Worship your queen! Kiss my pussy, and taste my delicious cum! Lick me! Fight for every drop! And my MUSCLES! HUUUURRRRR! LOOK AT THESE BICEPS! LOOK AT MY ABS! MY BEAUTIFUL EIGHT PACK! No guy you’ve ever fucked is more superior than me!” Boa screamed.

She felt the licks of her inferiors becoming more vigorous and eventually, she felt a surge of pleasure running across her spine, as she arched her back and relished in the climax. Her pussy unloaded like a garden hose, and her girls sucked up every ounce of potent, protein-rich cum she had to offer.

After fucking for another 30 minutes, the last of the girls were spent and surrendered to the realm of unconsciousness. Boa tossed the last of the limp bodies to the side, like a rag doll she was done playing with. She recalled back the day she met me at my gym (see Chapter 1), when I fucked 5 female IFBB pros at once. “So this must be how Mike felt that day. I feel so superior…so powerful!” And with the four limp bodies lying around her, Boa struck a front double bicep for herself in the mirror, admiring her dominant muscular body, a body which right now, could go on stage and win the Mr Olympia Men’s Classic Physique category by a landslide. It wasn’t surprising. Considering she was waking up every morning lifting a fully grown Belgian Blue bull up the hill, with the amount of weight training…to the point she could squat a car, the pain endurance training she had to go through (she could take a baseball bat to the gut and not flinch, at all), and martial arts practice…it was a wonder she wasn’t bigger than she already was.

Even then, she was still not satisfied. She wanted more…to sleep with the biggest, most muscular girls she had ever met. Sophia and the four pioneer girls were off-limits, no one knew where their rooms were, so Boa decided to go for the next best thing. She went down the corridors and reached a room with modified extra-wide door frames. Boa knocked and the door was answered by one of the handmaidens.

“Miss Boa, nice to have you here again. Please come in, Jillian is busy now but she’ll be with you in a sec.”

After almost two dozen visits, Boa knew Jillian’s room like the back of her hand. The specially reinforced California King bed that always seemed too small for Jillian’s hulk of a physique, and too unstable for her massive 450 pound bodyweight; the many colourful crayon drawings hanging on the walls, proud artworks of Jillian’s three loving children (two daughters and a son); and the shelves of trophies at one corner of the room, most of them 1st place trophies from competitions held in the Institute - the annual Mega Milo Runs, weightlifting contests, bodybuilding shows, hand-to-hand combat and armwrestling challenges. Sophia Harrison, being in a league of her own, usually skipped these competitions, which meant Jillian was usually the clear favourite to win. And Jillian Murphy was, more often than not, unstoppable. Even as one of the oldest trainees at 35 (although 35 was still considered extremely young for bodybuilders), in the seven years she was here, she was the reigning and undisputed 6 time Mega Milo Run champion, weightlifting record holder for the past 7 years, bodybuilding champ for the past 6 years, hand-to-hand combat winner for the past 5 years and armwrestling queen for the past 7 years. Soyeon came in as a close rival for the past 2 years but as far as Jillian was concerned, none was worthy in dethroning her. Boa remembered how amazed she was at the invincible trophy cabinet that was on display, and really wished she would achieve what Jillian managed to achieve. But right now, Boa was horny as fuck and she needed sex fast!

So Boa rounded the corner, where she could hear heavy metal playing on the speakers, drowned out occasionally by the brutal sound of womanly grunts emanating from the hall, and the loud clangs of heavily-loaded weights on a squat rack. True enough, Jillian was doing one-legged Bulgarian split squats with a massively loaded weight set, the reinforced bar horrendously bent out of shape by the 2000 pounds of osmium plates stacked on EACH side, giving a total of 4000 pounds.

“HHHHHRRRRGGGGHHHH….FORTY-EIGHT….UUUURRRRRGHHHH…FORTY-NINE….!!!”

She was working her left leg, and it was SCREAMING with power. Those oversized thighs of hers were bursting like crazy, the sweat trickling down the flesh, the monstrous vessels throbbing. Her thigh was larger than an average man’s chest. And that solid, beefed up, basketball-sized peach-shaped butt, mmmm….Boa needed that booty tonight.

Jillian always preferred free weights compared to the modern electromagnetic weights provided in the institute, because she needed to feel the superiority whenever she loaded up the insane amounts of plates, and showing off the terrifying image of a massively gigantic woman brutally lifting an equally gigantic stack of weights for reps. And she was right. Looking at Jillian from the back, with that grotesque hulk of a figure squatting that insane amount of weight, she looked like a man who was possessed and obsessed. Only the bikini and the silky, shoulder-length raven hair, braided in the style of Viking queens, did anything to quash any notion that this was a genetically enhanced male barbarian warrior. Of course, her gorgeous facial features would be an added bonus, but right now, Jillian had her back to Boa. The pink microkini was unorthodox for her, for in the two months that Boa had known Jillian, she had always been a staunch supporter of the bare-it-all philosophy, parading around in nothing but her nude muscularly armoured body.

“I have one of of the most incredible bodies in the history of humankind, all these MUSCLES and POWER, i’m a SEX symbol, so why on Earth would I want to hide it behind any pathetic piece of fabric? My body is meant to be displayed NUDE in all its glory!” Jillian used to say, so it was completely off-character for her to even cover it up with a microkini, but stepping closer, Boa understood why.

“And then, Mom, I took that ball, dribbled past two defenders, and shot it straight into the top corner! The goalie had no chance! Coach said it was a great goal! You should have seen it Mom!” the nine-year-old girl in the laptop said, probably something about a soccer game she played in school that day.

“HHHHUUUUUURRRRR-URRRRRRGGHHHHH!!! FIFTY!” And with a loud clang, Jillian loaded the barbell back onto the rack, before making her way to the laptop on the adjacent table. “That was amazing, sweetie! Didn’t I tell ya? Playing as a striker suits ya! Glad your coach agreed. So in the end, based on what you told me…your team won 2-0?”

“That’s right Mom!”

“Congratulations sweetie! I’m so proud of you! And the final is next Sunday?”

“Yeah Mom! You remembered!”

“Of course I remember dear! It’s your best run yet! I’m sorry I can’t make it to your final match, but I want you to tell me all about it, okay?” Jillian said to the webcam.

“Sure Mom! And say, did I just see you do 50 reps for each leg on the Bulgarian split squats, while listening to me?”

Jillian gave a super warm smile. “Yes, sweetie! Pretty impressive huh? Mommy’s hitting 4000 pounds per leg today!”

“Wow! That’s like…as heavy as Dad’s car! Mom can squat Dad’s car with just one leg! Means you’re getting stronger right, Mom? ‘Cuz last week it was like 3850 pounds…”

“That’s right sweetie! I’m so happy you remember! Wanna see mommy flex some quads?”

“You bet!”

“Alright Hannah…brace yourself…” then Jillian stepped back, wiggled her legs a little to loosen the muscle before tensing up and hitting a confident quad stomp that would put Jay Cutler to shame. Her superhuman thigh muscles rumbled to life, fibres rippling in a wave of well-timed contractions, striations bursting from her flesh like steel cables on the Golden Gate Bridge, shadowy grooves delicately separating the individual muscles – the pectineus muscle tracing delicately outwards from her bikini bottoms, the sartorius muscle, the vastus lateralis, rectus femoris, vastus medialis, the tensor fascia lata, the adductor complexes, all swelled up brilliantly like an anatomy chart - the overall size just mind-blowing, as if two boa constrictors had wrapped themselves around her thigh and puffed themselves up with nothing but dense, mega-human muscle, the ribboning of parallel fibres packed against each other, as if her muscles had muscles. Jillian stroked her thigh, just to accentuate the magnificent aura oozing out of it, running over the contours of her deep crevices, feeling the oversized swelling of her thighs, tapering into a thin but sturdy knee joint, before puffing up again into her gigantic calves, each head the size of rugby balls, veins aplenty.

“Wow! Your thighs are amazing Mom! I’ve googled even the male bodybuilders, none of them can even compare to you!”

“Aww…thanks Hannah! I’ve been measuring them too! Mommy’s thighs are 46 inches!”

“That’s bigger than Dad’s chest!”

“I know right! And by comparison, Ronnie Coleman’s thighs are only 36 inches!” Jillian said.

“Yay! My Mom’s a superhero!”

“Aww, aren’t you my number 1 fan! Say, where’s Ross and Cathy?”

“Alright, I’ll get them Mom. Ross! Cathy! Mom wants to talk to you!”

Then, a seven-year-old boy and ten-year-old girl appeared on the screen. “Hi Mom!”

“Hey you two! And what are you up to tonight?” Jillian asked.

“We’re just watching cartoons,” Ross said.

“Have you finished your homework?”

“Yeah Mom,” Ross answered.

“Now, what did you get for the essay the other day?”

“I got an A, Mommy!” Ross answered excitedly, showing his graded paper on the screen. 

“Wow that’s great sweetie! I’m guessing Mommy’s ideas worked?”

“They did, thanks Mommy! Miss Aldrin says she really loved the essay!”

“See, what I tell ya sweetie. We all know Mommy’s busy, but your homework is important too. So next time you have any trouble, don’t be afraid to give Mommy a call, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” Ross said, giving his mother a gap-toothed smile.

“Now, what about Cathy? How’s your sleepover at Becky’s last night?”

“It was cool, I guess. But Becky keeps making fun of my new glasses,” Cathy complained.

“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that sweetie. That’s wasn’t very nice of her. I think your glasses look great on you. Did you tell Becky that you didn’t like her making fun of you?”

“I did Mom, but she kept doing it. I guess it’s not a big deal, but it could be a bit annoying, especially in front of the other girls.”

“Okay then, sweetie. I’ll give Becky’s mom a call tomorrow morning, okay? She’s pretty reasonable, I’m sure she will have a word with Becky. Okay, sweetie?”

“Okay. Thanks Mom.”

“Alright kids. It’s getting late, and Cathy has a pop quiz tomorrow. So off to bed now you hear?” Jillian said.

“Okay, Mommy, but can you show us some muscles before we go?” Ross asked.

“Sure I can! I love flexing my muscles for my three biggest fans!” Jillian chuckled, removing the braids in her hair and flipped her raven curls free like a shampoo commercial. While she brushed her fingers through her silky, lush hair, she positioned her body comfortably in front of the webcam, “Ready or not? Here I come! Mommy’s muscles!”, and she flexed out a super massive, super incredible front double bicep that would destroy any Mr Olympia competitor on stage. Glorious, iron-clad, bowling ball-sized bicep peaks rose from her arms, the individual heads well-separated into their individual tendons, the finger-thick veins pulsating over her flesh. And if that wasn’t enough, the massive thickness of her lats were on full display, expanding her width by a foot on either side, like butterfly wings spreading over a cocoon, demonstrating an exaggerated V-taper that Mr Olympias would only dream of having, her triceps so swollen with power that they rubbed against those bulging butterfly lats of hers. Even her pecs were glorious, because her arms were raised in the bicep flex position, her beefy pecs were bunched up into two swollen teardrops, the tips tapering sexily into her cleanly-shaved axilla, while the opposite edges met convincingly at her sternum, the beautiful shape of her man-shaming pectoralis majors reinforced with a decorated tapestry of sinews, veins and thickness. The only thing that would distinguish her chest from a male chest, besides the overwhelming muscularity she displayed, were her breasts, now hidden beneath a pink microkini for the sake of her kids, but deep down, Boa knew those 36E babies were glorious.  Jillian’s abs were on a different level too: ten rock-hard slabs of solid muscle, rearranged symmetrically and majestically around her cute bellybutton, each like a shiny piece of steel brick flanked by a series of shark-finned serratus, shredded obliques and most prominently, eight sausage-thick intercostals rippling from below her pecs, not to mention the five juicy ab veins that would send any audience into an orgasmic frenzy.

“Mmmm…look at how strong Mommy is!” Jillian bragged, cupping her hand over that gigantic, 32-inch right bicep that was rising all the way up to her ears, just to demonstrate the pure hardness of the muscle.

Last pose she struck was her favourite, because of how classic it was and how enormous it made her look. The most muscular. Jillian curled her arms downward, grunting menacingly as she did so, as the combination of her invincible deltoids, traps, back, pecs, arms and forearms rumbled into pure utter madness, for Boa could just literally hear Jillian’s muscles exploding as they swelled up into mega-Godly proportions. Boa and Jillian’s kids were witnessing Jillian undergoing a female muscle growth (FMG) sequence in real time, as her size almost doubled along with the rippling definition, possibly even surpassing Sophia Harrison’s unbeatable physique. Jillian’s unbelievable combination of mass, definition, strength, confidence and brawn made her look absolutely ENORMOUS and positively superhuman, and she knew it for a fact. Her dimpled, starburst smile radiated to her little audience, but Boa couldn’t help but wet her pussy, the thick curdled white cum dripping provocatively down her thighs. As Boa tend to remind me every time she told this story, “At this point, Jillian’s looks were more feminine than any Victoria’s Secret model, and her muscles were more ripped and masculine than any male bodybuilder in history. She was beyond ripped, and beyond enormous. She was like the most perfect man AND woman who has ever lived.”

“HUUUUURRRRRR! OH YEAHHHH! What do you think kids? Mommy is RIPPED!” Jillian bragged, holding her most muscular pose just to let her kids relish in their mother’s greatness.

“Oh my God! You’re amazing Mom!” Cathy said.

“My mommy can destroy every daddy in my school all by herself!” Ross said.

“Well, I think she can LITERALLY do that,” Cathy said.

“What’s ‘literally’?” Ross asked.

“Mom, when I grow up, I wanna be just like you!” Hannah said.

Jillian chuckled. “And you sure can sweetie! Alright kids,” she straightened herself, going back into her relaxed state which by all means, still looked utterly enormous, “It’s getting late, time for bed.”

“Night night Mommy,” Ross greeted.

“Love you!” Jillian said.

As the kids left the call, a man in his mid-thirties sat himself in front of the laptop in their place.

Jillian smiled lovingly. “You should get ready for bed too, honey.”

“Soon. I just wanna have one last look at my beautiful wife before I log off,” Jillian’s husband said. As I have explained in Chapter 9, Jillian’s husband, Bob, was your average American man, working as a firefighter. Boa knew firefighters had to be quite fit themselves, but after being in the institute for so long and just interacting with huge, muscular girls all the time, Bob looked so scrawny (even though he was actually 6 foot 5 and weighed slightly less than 200 pounds).

“Well aren’t you sweet. But don’t forget, next Sunday is Hannah’s soccer final. And the sitter is having her mid terms next week, so remember to ask your sister if she could babysit, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Jeez, I forgot to buy toilet paper that ONE time!” Bob giggled. “You just focus on your training and when you come back, be sure to reward me BIG time. I miss having you spoon me, I feel so protected…”

“Alright, BIG boy. You’re a fireman, YOU should be doing the protecting…”

“Well, you’re the protector’s protector…” Bob teased.

“I guess I am, considering I’m 3 times your size and stronger than 10 fully grown men combined.”

“Yeah, the guys in the department still can’t get over the fact that you single-handedly beat all 10 of them combined in tug-of-war. It was over in less than 10 seconds.”

“As you very well know…my muscles aren’t just for show…although I do love showing them off,” Jillian said, pumping up her right bicep.

“I see you have a visitor at the back,” Bob pointed at Boa.

“Yup, that’s Boa, the one I’ve been telling you about. Don’t worry, she has her strengths in bed, and you, Papa Bear, have YOUR strengths in bed. That’s the deal, you want me to do that thing you like, I’ll need to get what I need from these girls. You’re still my husband,” Jillian said.

“Alright then. Have fun! Call you tomorrow?”

“Sure. Love ya.”

“Love ya.”

As Jillian logged off, the first point of action was to strip off her microkini and toss it over to the corner, liberating her huge perky boobs and that clean fleshy labia.

“Sorry about that Boa. Good to see you drop by again…oh my God! You’re a mess!”

Boa grinned shyly as she removed her finger from her own pussy, stepping out from the puddle of cum that just formed beneath her.

“Yeah, sorry. When you were flexing I just couldn’t help myself…” Boa said.

“Mmm…can’t say I blame ya,” Jillian said, admiring herself in the mirror, “My body is sooo ripped and beautiful.”

“You’re a goddess,” Boa said.

“That is an understatement. A goddess would be jealous of the power and beauty I possess,” and with that, Jillian dominantly pulled Boa so that their muscular bodies were pressed against each other, soft vascular skin on soft vascular skin, rock hard muscle on rock hard muscle, perky nipple on perky nipple, luscious labia on luscious labia. They locked eyes, Boa’s sparkly hazel eyes resting lovingly on Jillian’s piercing green irises, with Jillian gently brushing away a strand of hair out of Boa’s face. Boa despite being a titanic figure herself, capable of outmuscling 90% of the world’s male population, for a moment, she felt so warm, so protected in Jillian’s musclebound embrace. Eventually their lips met, and it was a gentle kiss, Boa tenderly biting on Jillian’s lip, while their tongues lovingly explored each other’s.

“I want to look like you. I want your muscles, your strength, your power, your sexual energy…I want you, I need you and I want to BE you…” Boa said.

“Well, then tell me how great I am…worship me.”

“Thank you. It will be my pleasure…”

Boa, for all her life, guys from champion bodybuilders up to Olympic athletes and male supermodels, men in the dreams of every girl out there, had tried their best to court her with the most outrageous gestures and lavish gifts, and more often than not, Boa had rebuffed them without batting an eye. She was the world’s most desirable girl, gracing the covers of numerous sports and fashion magazines, her bikini photos fetching at least 6 million dollars each, an epitome of dominant feminity, confidence and poise. Even me, her husband, champion bodybuilder Mike Hancock, had to work my ass off in courting her. And when she broke up with her ex boyfriends, it destroyed them, driving them to soul-shattering depression. Men had literally killed for her, like when her ex-boyfriend, multiple platinum selling rapper Bixlo Don shot his manager for merely sending flirty messages to Boa (which she didn’t reciprocate). She had the ability to get whatever she wanted, from transforming herself into a full-blown man-shaming bodybuilder, to overtly and ruthlessly raping four young handmaidens mere moments ago, but despite all that she was now under the spell of Jillian Murphy. Boa was begging for her, down on her knees (literally), reduced to mere lust and hunger for this hulk of a woman, and Jillian was milking every single moment of it.

Boa started from Jillian’s feet, sucking and kissing every single pedicured toe, before making her way up Jillian’s gastrocnemius muscles, diamond cut and iron-packed, bulging prominently above her Achilles tendon like heart-shaped balls of steel, each head the size of a rugby ball.

“Your calves, Jillian, they’re bigger than people’s waists…” Boa said, planting kisses all over them, her vaginal juices dripping all over the floor.

“Not good enough. Let me give you some inspiration,” and as Jillian said that, she raised her calves and the muscles rumbled into titanic mounds of power.

Boa’s hands trembled as she grabbed a measuring tape and wrapped it over Jillian’s calves. “Jillian, they are 32 inches…no wait…33…no….34 inches! That’s incredible! My waist is only 29 inches, and Jay Cutler’s THIGHS were only 30 inches at his prime.”

“Jay Cutler’s tiny delusional fraud! I can eat him for breakfast!”

Next were Jillian’s thighs. Jillian, sensing that Boa was approaching this part of her body, pointed her toe outwards and from there, the powerful layers of unbelievable muscle just erupted, mounds of flesh just rearranging themselves into finely separated ripples of muscle fibres. Her hamstrings, adductors, tensors and quadriceps curled into construction grade steel cables, like tiny little metal fibres twisting over each other to form a tougher, stronger muscular complex. The feathering in their edges signified the unreal levels of conditioning that Jillian had achieved, fuelled by uncountable networks of branching veins the size of fingers and sausages. Thighs like this could send even the top Mr Olympias into a panic attack, and if Jillian were to show them off at a posedown with Ronnie Coleman, Phil Heath and Big Ramy, she would trump them like a lion trumping a house-cat.

“Oh my God! Jillian! Your thighs are 50 inches thick! They have gotten bigger than before…your hulk-out was incredible! I bet they could leg press an entire truck if you tried!”

“For your information, they can. I mounted a Ford pickup last month over the front compound, and I leg pressed it for 8 reps. I could do more, but the machine broke, so I lifted the truck and dumped it over the cliff in anger.”

“No way! You are unstoppable!”

“I am BEYOND unstoppable. Emasculation and man-shaming, that is my specialty.”   

The glutes were her sexiest parts by far. Two solid basketballs the shape of peaches, a man could stick his forearm in between the butt cheeks and once Jillian flexed, could crush his bone to pieces…at least, that was what neighbourhood pervert Samson Jack went through.

“I heard you have quite the reputation Mr Samson Jack,” Jillian teased.

“Mmm…girls find me irresistible…”

“They feel the same way about me too, both girls and guys. Say, I heard you love my butt. Why don’t you feel it…in between the butt cheeks…”

Samson was drooling by then, and as he position his hand between Jillian’s two incredibly msucular glutes, searching for that elusive butthole, she flexed.

Jillian’s butt was so strong, she barely even used a quarter of her force, and she felt as if she was merely cracking a cookie. But no doubt, the result was catastrophic. Samson’s entire forearm was so shattered, he required amputation and as a result, lost his job as a carpenter.

But right here, in front of Boa, Jillian’s butt was even more magnificent. The two giant globes of pure muscle, smooth as a crystal ball, but as Jillian contracted them, the muscles split into deep cuts and fibres stacked over one another like a washboard, the peach shaped ass remoulding and terraforming into a grotesque cashew-shaped striated mass, dimpling against the tensor fascia lata, the upper edge perfectly separated from the lower back muscles, forming a perfect upside down triangle for a tiny bikini thong to trace trough. At that point, Boa slapped the butt, but nothing was harder than the insane piece of meat bulging from Jillian’s back side, a perfectly sculpted combo of well-separated gluteus medius, gluteus maximus and gluteus intermedius rippling like muscle-powered pistons. Boa could also make out the pencil-thick veins spreading over the two muscular orbs, and traced them with her tongue.

“Fuck, Jillian! Your glutes are so hard and powerful…and so shredded, to the point you have glute veins! Fucking glute veins, how ripped must you be to actually have glute veins?”

“Everyone has veins in their glutes, but because I am so INCREDIBLY RIPPED, my veins are just bursting with power!” Jillian bragged, as she flexed and unflexed her butt, contracting into terrifyingly grotesque orbs of muscle, and releasing into smooth juicy basketball-sized globes.

Boa continued upwards, kissing and licking over the most incredible back she had ever seen in here entire life, barring Sophia Harrison. But at this stage, she wasn’t sure…Jillian could actually out-hulk Sophia. Just like Boa, Jillian’s back was her most impressive part. Layers upon layers upon layers of unbeatable female muscle, stacked upon each other like a knotted monstrousity, competing with each other for space, fighting to be on the surface limelight of her incredible back. Every fibre welded exquisitely onto her flesh, each groove finely carved inches-deep, giving her enormous upper back a majestic look resembling the face of a praying mantis demon, the inferior edges cut delicately to perfectly taper into a Christmas tree in her lower back, a sign of unbelievable conditioning. Boa ran her hands over the massive back, so massive that even her entire outstretched arm span could not cover the full width of Jillian’s back. Her arm span was beaten by at least a foot. The columns of trapezius and latissimus dorsi muscles rose up like mushroom caps instead of cobra-hoods, forming muscular terrains that would humiliate the Grand Canyon. Cobra-hooded lats were how we described Ronnie Coleman, Chris Bumstead or Boa’s backs, but Jillian had grown beyond that, so not only were her muscles growing outward, but they were also growing upwards, as if two layers of bricks were stuffed onto each side, and sculpted artistically to resemble the Himalayan terrain. Boa tried to pinch the muscles but Jillian’s flesh was unyielding, demonstrating diamond-level hardness.

“Oh my God, your back…it’s a work of art, a masterpiece!”

“Oh yeah? Wait til you see me flex!” Jillian challenged.

“That wasn’t flexing?”

And Boa felt a dynamite explode in her face as Jillian sent a flurry of rippling contractions into her back muscles, courtesy of her God-shaming rear double biceps pose. Veins popped out everywhere from her back, and her traps rose all the way to her ears, like two oxygen tanks being stuffed into her shoulders.

“Oh my God, fuck me! You could stop a bulldozer with that back, and crush a gorilla!” Jillian said.

“As a matter of fact. I HAVE done both of those things. Last year, all I had to do was do a rear bicep flex in front of a charging bulldozer and the entire machine was destroyed. Completely irreparable. And I am definitely bigger than a male alpha gorilla, MUCH bigger, and when they put me up against it in the ring last year, I was so huge, the gorilla literally whimpered with fear when it saw me. In the end, I defeated it in a 10-second smackdown. I lifted the gorilla over my head, and broke its spine over my knee. I was ruthless and I must be, to gain the respect of everyone before me,” Jillian said.

Boa, at this point was slobbering all over Jillian’s back, and that was when she made her way over to those invincible arms. Delts the size of boulders, biceps the size of bowling balls, triceps the size of rugby balls, forearms as thick as people’s thighs. Boa kissed those insane bicep peaks, feeling the unrelenting hardness with her lips, as if a cannonball was stuffed inside Jillian’s flesh. By now, Jillian was playful with her flexing, teasing Boa with a series of front double biceps, low bicep flex, side chest and side triceps, a javelin and a mantis pose. Boa relished each and every pose like a hungry schoolgirl, feeling the hardness and extra-hardness as Jillian pumped and unpumped her muscles. Boa then straddled over Jillian’s massive bicep peak, pressing her pussy over the steel orb of power, and with each of Jillian’s flexes, Boa felt the intense surge of pleasure as the unbelievable contractions of Jillian’s bicep rubbed against her clit.

“Your arms…are so…incredibly strong!”

“That’s what you get when you lift SUPER HEAVY weights like I do!” Jillian said.

“I bet they can crush bowling balls!”

“Wrong! I can crush bowling balls with my abs! With my enormous arms…I can crush wrecking balls!”

Boa wrapped the measuring tape around Jillian’s arm.

“30 inches! Amazing! That’s bigger than Arnold’s thighs!” Boa cheered.

“Hmm…I see, but that’s when I’m not flexing. NOW I’m FLEXING!” And with that, Jillian’s arms sprouted into a hulking mountain of strength, and Boa was almost startled into a heart attack. But she got her composure back and measured the newfound size.

“Holy FUCK! 37 inches! You’re humungous!”

“I know, dear. I know. At this rate, with the exceptional gains I’m making, don’t be surprised if I’m the most humungous person in history!”

“Sienna’s got nothing on you!”

Boa then leaned over to smell a lock of Jillian’s silky raven hair, the pheromones hypnotising her, as Boa caressed the 35-year-old’s plushy soft cheeks, smothered her muscular neck before planting a sexy kiss on her luscious, rosy lips.

“You’re so beautiful…”

“I know. I can win the Miss Universe, Mr Olympia, and World’s Strongest Man in heartbeat. How does it feel, meeting a woman that can destroy Adriana Lima and Heidi Klum on the catwalk, and at the same time, humiliate Mr Olympias in a posedown?”

“It feels amazing.”

Last but not least, Jillian’s front, from her chest, to her abs, to her groin, every inch of her was perfection, a perfect masterpiece with beautifully sculpted plates of muscle packed masterfully onto her impressive V-taper physique. As Jillian puffed up her chest, her pectoralis major muscles sprouted out thicker than cinderblocks, the beefy slabs of muscle like boulders jutting out from her chest, the parallel striations of her upper pectoralis, middle pectoralis and lower pectoralis ribboning out like grooves on a washboard. Then there were her porn-star worthy breasts, which despite the absolutely nil amount of fat in her body, was reinforced into perky, gravity-defying mammaries that would put the most sought-after adult film stars to shame, with cute, pink, bullet-hard nipples just dying to be sucked. It was as if every single ounce of fat was shredded from her muscular frame, and directed solely into the construction of her ample boobs. And if that wasn’t enough, tectonic plates of feminine muscle were welded exquisitely onto her midsection: from her jacked-up serratus muscles, industrial-level obliques, chiselled intercostals and perfectly symmetrical ten-pack, each stuffed artistically into her midriff before plunging into a well-defined Adonis belt that tapered smoothly into her groin, titanic abs of steel exploding with raw ferocious power, humiliating even the most expensively paid underwear models and finely crafted Greek God marble statues.

“Wow, not only are you built like a marble statue, you’re just as hard as one too.”

“Wrong again. I am MUCH harder than a marble statue. Every inch of me can crush diamonds into sand!”

“And your ab veins…so sexy!”

“I know, I get that a lot. My husband is CRAZY for them!”

“Let me measure your chest…oh my God! Your chest is 72 inches thick! It’s enormous!”

Jillian laughed. “That’s what you get when you bench press cars for reps every morning! And my muscles aren’t just for show. As you know, I am the protector of my family. I protect my home, my husband and my kids! And anyone that wants to mess with them, has to go through me. Six months ago, a group of burglars entered my house. They think it was only my husband and kids in the house, but oh no, Mommy was back. It was my son’s birthday, and what kind of Mommy would I be if I don’t celebrate with him? I was in the garage, doing concentration curls on my 500 pound osmium dumbbells, when I heard my husband scream from the kitchen. That’s when I saw them, six fully grown men in masks, tying my husband and kids to a chair, all of them blindfolded. Oh no, NO ONE hurts my family. I was enraged, and I straight up HULKED out. I wouldn’t call it a fight because it was a slaughter! Pretty easy when you can actually lift a man in each hand and toss them 30 feet across the yard with only a quarter of your strength. They were no match. They tried to hit me with pans and baseball bats, but all they did was merely destroy their weapons against my STRONG, HARD muscles! I was an unstoppable force and my victory was inevitable. I only kept advancing as they tried helplessly to stop my advance. And when I caught up to them, I merely broke them. Eventually, one of them managed to escape into their truck. Big mistake. He accelerated but no truck can outrun me! Look at my legs!” Jillian flexed out her titanic thighs to prove her point. “I’m a MACHINE! I’m better than a machine! I’m a mega GODDESS! Eventually I caught up to the truck and grabbed onto its rear bumper. And for a second there, I was playing tug-of-war with the truck. But who am I kidding? I am UNSTOPPABLE. He punched the gas but the truck didn’t move an inch! Eventually, the engine gave out and I just lifted the truck over my head like a pillow and tossed it onto the front lawn. Too bad, he had his seatbelts on and the airbag saved him. But only temporarily. I didn’t call the cops because the cops would be a mercy compared to what I would do to them. After releasing my family and putting them to bed, I went back into my garage and made the fuckers oil me up. Letting them feel every inch of my massive, hard, muscular body and learn for themselves the power I possess. And then, I raped them. All six of them, I straight up raped them and broke their dicks and crushed their balls. I was BRUTAL, ANIMALISTIC and RUTHLESS. And NO ONE, dared to mess with me again.”

“Oh FUCK Jillian! You’re my HERO!”

Boa took each nipple into her mouth and rubbed her own chiselled abs against Jillian’s titanic ones. It was such a turn-on, the bumpiness in their rock hard abs, each slab grinding each other. Then, Boa wrapped her arms around Jillian’s back, and rubbed her vagina against Jillian’s abs…the bumpiness sending the Japanese girl into a sexy orgasmic frenzy.

“You’re just so ripped! I want to BE you!” Boa screamed.

“With the gains you’re making, you are definitely gonna achieve that. And by that time, it will be ME, who will be worshipping you. Now, are you ready to feel how STRONG these arms actually are?” Jillian said, fully flexing her enormous right bicep one last time, the peak just straight up exploding from her flesh, turning into the size of bowling balls. Jillian stroked it but Boa just couldn’t resist and wrapped her hands to feel the full-on power of Jillian’s powerful biceps, getting a feel of what she herself would achieve in a year’s time. Boa kissed the bicep passionately, before allowing Jillian to stick her hand into her vagina, destroying her orifice with ruthless vibrations that pumped up Jillian’s bicep with blood and puffing up her muscles to inhuman proportions. Boa wrapped her arms around that incredible column of strength, feeling the vigorous contractions of every muscle fibre that Jillian had brutally built. Even Boa’s own strong hands, hardened by years of weightlifting and flexing, looked so tiny as she placed her hands over Jillian’s boulder-huge deltoids and mountainous biceps, like a baby holding a beachball. Knowing this, and what she needed to become, she gave in to Jillian and relished in the best fuck she had ever experienced in her entire life.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 12

Spring rolled around, and followed by summer, the change of the seasons coming as if in solidarity of the changes Boa and I were going through. Boa and I had agreed to a temporary open marriage for 1 year, because she would be training in the institute, and as her “loyal” husband, I gladly followed her wishes. I was fucking multiple ladies every single night, and sometimes in the day. Being raped by Savannah Harrison really bruised my masculinity, and no more shall I be overpowered by a woman. I was a stud, and I grew up with girls begging to be fucked by me. No way in nature should a woman be able to achieve a muscularity that could compete with the Mr Olympias of our day. A little muscle is good, like Juliana Malacarne, Dana Linn Bailey, Kristen Nun, these were the warrior women. But to get as big as me? A favourite for the Mr Olympia? Impossible. I wasn’t happy with how Boa was getting so obsessed with this mission to get huge, and I made it very clear from the start, but she wasn’t budging. So I made it my mission to prove her wrong. Don’t get me wrong, I love her very much, but this level of obsession isn’t healthy and I didn’t want her to injure herself or ruin her own body chasing something that was impossible. I doubled up my efforts, training twice a day, and putting on another 30 pounds of muscle and shedding another 1.5% of body fat. At a flat 0.8% body fat percentage, I was shredded to the core and with all that extra muscle, at 23 I was on my way to becoming the youngest Mr Olympia in history, and by far the biggest.

Mike’s measurements:
Weight: 375 pounds
Height: 6 foot 3
Arms: 26 inches
Chest: 65 inches
Waist: 32 inches
Thighs: 39 inches
Calves: 26 inches
Penis length: 10 inches
Body fat: 0.8%

And this year was my year. Every other bodybuilder that came up against me, I swept them aside; every competition I entered, I conquered; the media was calling me “The Unbeatable” and it was true. My closest rival, reigning Mr Olympia Jamal Hendrickson stood no chance against me, coming up 2nd place behind me in the Arnold Classic, NPC Chicago Pro, NPC New York Pro, NPC Toronto Pro, IFBB North American Championships, IFBB Men’s Bodybuilding World Championship and WBFF Worlds so going into the Olympia in a month’s time, I was the heavy favourite. The other rivals? I couldn’t care less. Big Ramy looked tiny compared to me, Shawn Roden was completely outclassed when he stood next to me in the posedowns and Brandon Curry, despite being in the best shape of his life (even better than the time he won Mr Olympia 2019) but with me flexing next to him, he stood absolutely no chance. This is a sport for real men, and among all the real men, I was the manliest of them all. And all this was helped by the fact that I was sporting a grapefruit sized bulge in my pants, my bratwurst-shaming cock stuffed to the brim against two orange-sized balls. And women couldn’t resist me. While I was strutting along Venice beach Baywatch-style in only my briefs, a bevy of UCLA sorority chicks just stripped naked and pounced onto me like lionesses in heat. They could feel my lion aura from a mile away. I was invited to the Victoria’s Secret fashion show and let’s just say, I have tasted multiple million dollar pussies the entire night. And with that, I was voted People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive for that year. And movie companies were begging for my signature, not to act but to borrow my physique to act as their most menacing supervillains. Marvel invited me to play Abomination, Juggernaut and Venom, DC approached me to play Doomsday and Bane, while  TV Tokyo called me up to play Yujiro Hanma in the live action remake of Baki Hanma. Life was good.

If you were wondering what Boa was doing all this time, I managed to gauge from her phone calls with me. It was a month before the Olympia and now, she was living her life like a monk, dedicated to nothing but the perfection of her musculature. She was working out three times a day now, and I recalled her saying she could bench press a sedan? I don’t know. Bullshit. Her morning Milo Run consisted of two Belgian Blues, one on each shoulder, and the 10 mile uphill run took her less than 3 minutes daily. Her meals could almost double my proportions, with 7 meals a day and each meal enough to feed 4 fully grown men. To me, that isn’t healthy, this overeating and overexercising but every time I told her that, she would be like “just you wait, I’m gonna show you”. 

Which brings me, finally, to the Olympia weekend in early fall. Vegas was brimming and it was brimming with bodybuilders and bodybuilding-enthusiasts from all over the world. Mr Olympia was going to be interesting for they may potentially see me crowned as the youngest, biggest and heaviest Mr Olympia of all time. But the run-up to that was overshadowed by a completely different issue entirely. Throughout the entire run-up, all contestants were finalised for each division, except the Miss Olympia. And it wasn’t only until 3 days before the event that the names of 12 Miss Olympia contestants were released by the IFBB.


1)   Summer Harrison (nicknamed: The Predator)
2)   Savannah Harrison (nicknamed: The Terminator)
3)   Alexandra Stevens (nicknamed: Miss Heavyweight)
4)   Brianna Sorensen (nicknamed: Queen of Valhalla)
5)   Sophia Harrison (nicknamed: The Abomination)
6)   Jillian Murphy (nicknamed: World’s Strongest Mom)
7)   Boa Hancock (nicknamed: The Carnivore)
8-   Mikaela Kruger (nicknamed: The Man-Slaver)
9)   Paula Lamar (nicknamed: The Monster of Missouri)
10)   Cassandra Kent (nicknamed: Daughter of Krypton)
11)   Grace Phillips (nicknamed: The Spartan Goddess)
12)   Park Soyeon (nicknamed: Supervillain)

All were New Themyscira Institute trainees. The last 8 names were their so-called Top 8 that they have worked so hard to achieve, and the first 4 names were their earliest graduates. There was an air of anxious anticipation because no one had ever seen any of these girls in the past year. Their social media presence was zero, and the institute was strict towards any visitors. Me, I didn’t know how to feel. At one end, I was happy Boa made the selection but I was curious just how much of her obsession actually paid off.

I even tried calling her once I found out about the Miss Olympia contestant list, but she didn’t pick up. And this happened all the way til competition day. I was a bit worried but something tells me I shouldn’t be and should just focus on prep. Turns out I was right. The organisers said the New Themyscira girls were not allowed to use their phones and was told by Fiona to focus 100% on the contest. With that, I was just hoping I could talk to my wife on contest day.

I got my tan on and was grinding it out in the pump up room. Looking at my rivals, I could just feel my confidence growing. I was oozing with confidence and I could taste the insecurities in the room. For a brief moment, there was a pause from the hustle and bustle of the pump-up room when I entered and stripped. There was no one in the room who could beat me, and I pretty much had the Mr Olympia title in the bag. A few of the Wellness and Figure girls came over to compliment my body, struggling to hold in their drools and taking every excuse to feel my muscles. I was happy to oblige, flexing and posing for them, showing them my hard-earned muscles, proving once again why I was gonna be the champion. They got into a frenzy, like schoolgirls in a pool party, and just to reward them for their affection, I gave each of them a nice kiss on the lips.

“What a stud!” One of them said, pressing her fit, toned Wellness body against mine, her firm, ample boobs pressed up against my chest, one hand fondling over my huge groin package, the other feeling the boulder-shaped delts and biceps on my arm. “Sooo strong, I feel so protected!”

Eventually, I rounded them up in the men’s room and straight up raped them, six girls at once. Once I entered, there were like seven or eight men minding their own business, but my alpha aura of intimidation and pure confidence just sent chills down their spine. I didn’t have to say a word for them to know that I needed the room. Like a scurrying bunch of cockroaches, they rushed out of the room, some not even bothering to wash their hands or zip their flies. Not my problem, I wanted the room, and every single one of these dudes knew that my wants were more important than their needs. Some even apologised to me when they left, sorry to have taken up my time. What pathetic losers. Which was why I was the one fucking all these IFBB Pro ladies and not them.

So I let my pure animalistic instinct take over. There was no love, no affection, nothing. It was all about the dominance. And as the world’s most muscular man at that time, these girls should be thanking me because I gave them the best sex they ever had, period. Even when I was done, they still wouldn’t let go. I impregnated all six of the girls no doubt, and splashed the floor with so much cum. I hope they have some good birth control because they were gonna fucking need it. I was pumped, I was crazy, I was horny, and I was ready for the Olympia! I was gonna conquer the contest like how I conquered these girls.

Later, I went backstage. The contest was about to start. My erection was still on but no matter, I wanted the world to see my all-conquering 10-inch package. I saw my rivals, Big Ramy, Shawn Rhoden, Brandon Curry, Kai Greene and Jamal Hendrickson, and standing next to them, they had no chance. Jamal gave me a homie handshake, and our size difference couldn’t be more obvious. But to me, he wasn’t a homie. Sure, we seemed to get along fine, but he was nothing more than a tool for me to conquer, to show the world how much more superior I was. I psyched my rivals up by giving them a show of my crab-pose most muscular, the hard-earned beef of mine just exploding, my physique just condescending them, my smirk adding salt to their wounds. I was a lion: ferocious, ruthless and terrifyingly confident. And I couldn’t wait to get on stage and show the world.

The emcee announced the beginning of the Mr Olympia contest and we went on stage. I swear, the crowd roared twice as loud when they saw me on stage. My physique was definitely shocking. The commentators narrated the show:

“And here we are with the Mr Olympia. For some reason, the organisers decided to start with the Mr Olympia before the Miss Olympia. No worries because these men don’t look like they are bothered at all. There’s Big Ramy, former two time champion, looking absolutely huge, the biggest he has ever been at 330 pounds. Brandon Curry and Shawn Rhoden seem to be in excellent shape as well. They both won this contest before but right now, they seemed to have doubled down on their efforts in the gym. Brandon, looking absolutely shredded and Shawn really came in super dry, super conditioned. Kai Greene, came out of retirement, and look at that, boy he didn’t look like he retired one bit. And our defending champion, Jamal Hendrickson holy shit! Sorry, pardon my language, but damn he looks to be in the best shape of his life! At 336 pounds, he is definitely heavier than he was last year, and it seems like once again, he looks like he has this in the bag. Although I would say, this seems like the best Mr Olympia lineup in history! None of these men weigh less than 320 pounds and they just look great. And coming up next on stage, look at the crowd, is that…Jesus Christ! It’s our youngest competitor but he is just straight up destroying these veterans. Mike Hancock, ladies and gentlemen, holy cow! He is huge! He lost the title last year to Jamal but this year, he didn’t just plan on winning, he planned on humiliating! This dude is huge! At 375 pounds he is a full forty pounds heavier than the next biggest competitor, Jamal. Damn son, he is just…I have absolutely no words. Possibly the biggest bodybuilder in history! World’s sexiest man and now world’s strongest man.”

We went into a series of compulsory poses, but it made no difference anyway because no matter what we did, I was the clear winner. For the first time ever, I saw uncertainty in Jamal’s eyes, the apprehension in Big Ramy’s face, the fear in Brandon Curry’s soul, and me, I was just enjoying myself.

“Fuck off losers! This is a sport for REAL men!” I bragged.

Once the prejudging was over, we returned backstage to prepare our routine for the finals. I checked my phone and to my surprise, I received a text from Boa.

SECOND FLOOR. NOW. PUMP UP ROOM CUBICLE 2. JUST WANNA SEE YOU BEFORE I GO ON. LOVE YOU.

I obeyed. Despite the many ladies I was fucking, I missed my wife. She was better than any lady. Only in my briefs, I strutted into the hotel lobby and took the elevator up to the second floor. The whole floor was another exhibition hall, but was converted into a series of partitioned cubicles. Grunts, moans and the clanging of iron emanated from behind the partitioned walls, as I made my way to the end until I found cubicle 2.

I entered the cubicle to find an enormous man, dressed in an oversized stringer vest and shorts, lying over the bench, pressing a bar stacked with so much weight that I could only dream of lifting. The bar was so loaded up, it looked like it could squash a truck. I was like “Who the fuck was this insane hulk of a man?” Upon closer inspection, those plates were made of osmium, the densest type of metal on Earth, meaning the plates were heavier than they looked. Even the bar was bent into a U shape with every rep he completed. His manly, ferocious grunts emanated both exertion and pleasure. With every rep, I could feel his body swelling to insane proportions, his aura oozing much more power than a roided-up supervillain. Then a sudden worry struck me. Is he fucking my wife?

The psychotic monster of a man ended his final rep (which I counted was at least 25) with a thunderous, cathartic scream. That was when I finished counting the plates. Each plate was 150 pounds, 10 on each side. Meaning 150 x 10 x 2…almost 3000 FUCKING POUNDS! I could barely complete 1000 pounds for two reps on the squats, and this guy was benching almost triple my squatting max. And he did it for more than 20 reps! “What the fuck! Could this guy actually bench 3000 pounds?”

“Yes, for 32 reps. But it’s nothing. My max is way heavier but I need to get super pumped right now, so I’m using lightweight. And for the record, I’m not a guy.” 

The voice shocked me. And when the monstrosity of a figure stood up from the bench, casting a shadow over me, my jaw dropped. This was no man. Despite having the a body that could humiliate any male bodybuilder or supervillain. Despite the loud, feral, animalistic grunts of a man possessed in the gym. This was no man. This was Boa Hancock, my wife. She removed her shorts and stringer vest to show off her hard-earned body in all its naked beauty. She had gotten bigger. Much, much, MUCH bigger. In fact, she was absolutely humungous! And fucking ripped to the core. She was all muscle. And she was absolutely terrifying, so terrifying that when she stood up, my primal instincts caused me to take a step back in fear, a chill running down my spine as I took in the monstrous muscular beauty in front of me. I recalled less than a year ago, she was sporting the body of a Miss Olympia Wellness champion, a bikini body that would put any porn star and swimsuit supermodel to shame. Now, she had packed up all her sexy womanly curves with nothing but pure, rock-hard, bone-crushing muscle that would put any Strongman or male bodybuilder to shame. Even me. I just destroyed the Mr Olympia contest, but right now, she dwarfed me, and easily put me in my place. She was taller than me by half a head, two times bigger and much, much stronger. Don’t get me wrong, she was still drop dead gorgeous: her long silky raven hair flowing gracefully like a shampoo commercial; her smooth, soft face, fit for the face of Dior; her sultry, womanly voice despite the savagely grunts of her lifting. She was the perfect womanly package. But neck-down, she was the perfect bodybuilding package. Standing there in her glorious nudity, Boa was the god-like cumulation of mass, brawn, power, strength, symmetry, vascularity, definition and sexiness.

“So, what do you think?” Boa asked, showing me a pec bounce which gave me a fucking hard-on, her massive boobs just begging to be sucked.

“Boa, you…you…look…” I stuttered, but I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.

“I’m HUGE. And FUCKING RIPPED AS HELL!” She went into a front lat spread, admiring herself in the wall-mounted mirrors, and her whole body was absolutely screamed “size”. Huge was an understatement. She was Hulk-like, enormous, humungous, GIGANTIC. Like a roided-up supervillain. And she knew it. That smug, confident look on her face said it all, the wing-like lats flaring from her sides adding another foot to her width on each side, accentuating the V-taper that any male bodybuilder would die for.

“I heard you bossed the Mr Olympia just now. And you looked bigger than the last time we saw each other. What is that? Added another 30 pounds of muscle?” Boa questioned.

“35, to be exact,” I answered, gulping.

“35 pounds in a year, that’s cute. Wanna know how much muscle I put on? 350 pounds. That’s ten times more than you! Not only did I catch up with you, I surpassed you, by a mile! I am now 675 pounds, an absolute heavyweight, heavier than any male or female bodybuilder in history, and all of it is pure MUSCLE! And you’re what? 375 pounds? That’s anorexic! I’m almost twice as heavy as you! I eat guys like you for breakfast! Show me a front double bicep!”

I obeyed, bringing my arms up into a massive flex, the same flex that cemented my dominance in the Mr Olympia earlier. My biceps were beautiful, the great orbs of muscle, the size of a shot put, perfectly rounded, with veins and well-defined separations between the individual heads. Anyone, including bodybuilding legends and judges alike, would be amazed. But Boa merely chuckled mockingly.

“That’s so cute! What is that? 25…26 inches? Ha! You call that a muscle?” she bellowed, “Let me show you some REAL muscle.”

She took a deep breath, her shiny nude body glistening in the light, in her eyes a raging fire was spreading. Convincingly, she stomped one powerful leg onto the floor to assert her power, drawing all the attention to herself, the rippling monstrosity of her glutes and thigh muscles springing to life like hydraulic pistons on an Iowa-class battleship, before crushing out an absolutely God-shaming front double bicep. This was a woman transformed, one who was undoubtedly certain of her own confidence and dominance. As she clenched her fists, the sound of cracking knuckles sending shivers down my spine, her enormous biceps just exploding from her arm, two perfectly spherical globes of rock-solid muscle, bulging all the way up to her ears, as big as volleyballs stuffed into her flesh. I had no chance. Her peaks were so well-defined, like boulders, the rivers of finger-thick veins pulsating with every breath she took. She was so ripped to the core, I could make out the individual striations that made up the muscle fibre, with a groove down the middle separating the heads, each individual head bursting with so much size that they looked like their own separate muscles, each head bigger than the entire bicep of 99% of the population. Her forearms were no joke either, bulging formidably from her elbows, the bundles of flexor, pronator, and extensor muscles bunching up into a sculpture of teardrop-shaped striations, each lined with a horrifying network of thickened veins, muscles filled with nothing but strength and iron, tapering perfectly into her strong female hands. The explosive bursts of her raw muscle power reminded me of the rumbling pistons of a bulldozer or monster truck. Her biceps were as big as my thighs and her forearms were bigger than my calves. She was bigger than me, much, much bigger, and she wasted no time in pointing that out.

“Mmmmm…..YYYYYYYEAH! OH FUCK YEAH! THIS IS REALLL MUSCLE! Babe, I want you to meet my gorgeous girls,” she gestured to her right bicep, “This is Titan. She can crush shotputs in her elbow.” Then she gestured to her left bicep, kissing it, “And this is Spartacus. She can flex out of industrial-grade steel chains. And together, they can demolish cars and curl bulldozers for reps!”


I swore. This was the sexiest and most terrifying thing I had ever seen, and she was my wife! I could feel my cock throbbing, bulging up from my posing trunks.

“Mmmm….someone’s excited. No worries, you’re my husband, so that gives me the right to fuck you as much as I want.” Boa then grabbed me by the neck with one strong hand and lifted me off the ground as if my 375 pound body weighed no heavier than a pillow.

“Listen up. You need to deal with the fact that things are going to change in our relationship. It is no doubt that even though I am a woman, I am now the undisputed alpha of this relationship. Even in the outside world, I am already the apex predator. Men tremble at the sight of me, men fear me, and you should too. I am so much BIGGER and STRONGER than you. I can take on ten of you and still demolish you. And I am so. Much. More. RRRIPPED! I am a much more BEAUTIFUL muscle specimen that you ever were! And they say bodybuilding is a men’s sport. Ha! Well not any more. Have you seen us ladies? Well you will! Compared to us, you men are pathetic! Tiny! Scrawny! And the Miss Olympia will be the premier bodybuilding contest of the entire weekend! We are HUGE! RIPPED! And I am the GREATEST OF THEM ALL! All this because you wouldn’t believe in me! Saying women can’t build muscles! Well, what do you have to say now! I am RIPPED! As part of my training, I have killed bulls, rhinos, gorillas and lions with my bare hands! And right now, even with just a fraction of my strength, not even half of it, I can just squeeze your neck in my hand, crushing your windpipe, shattering your backbone and squash your entire neck muscles into a useless pulp. So, tell me, what’s there to stop me?”

She let go, and there I was, on the ground, gasping for air, fearing for my life. Just then, I felt a huge mass blanketing me, and pretty soon, I realised, my wife was embracing me now, hugging me tightly into her own densely muscular body, which was weird considering she just tried to kill me a second ago.

It was the first time I felt her transformed body and holy fuck! It was amazing. Both our huge muscular bodies touched, but her muscles, those muscles, they were solid, like stones and diamonds, and incompressible, and just by touching them, I could feel the unbelievable brutality of her strength and power stored in those iron-made muscles of hers, just waiting to be unleashed. And when she does unleash it, it will be swift, ruthless and inescapable.

But now, the hug felt soft, and tender.

“But then again, despite all that, I still love you very much. You’re my husband, and I will never let anything happen to you…as long as you obey me.”

It was then she tore off my posing trunks, freeing the huge 10-inch cock I had in my disposal.

“My, my, I missed this bad boy,” she said, as she sucked on my glans penis, before rubbing it over her cobblestoned, washboard abs.

“Oh yes, why don’t you meet my eight new friends!” Boa said, flexing her unbelievable eight-pack. And goodness me, she had built the most incredible eight-packs I had ever seen in my entire life! Each of them, well-separated, like stone bricks, stuffed tightly into her relatively thin waist, popping out of her flesh like bumps on a road, expanding and contracting with every breath she took. Cut like a marble statue, her sculpted abdomen had grooves running as deep as 3 inches and if I were to put a diamond ring in there, it would be crushed into dust with just a quick flex of hers. Network of snake-like, tortuous, pencil-thick veins ran along her slabs of muscle, pulsating with every beat of her heart, and that made her look sexy as fuck! I ran my fingers over the juicy veins, and shuddered as they bounced elastically underneath my fingers. Her ab veins were thicker than any of the veins on my arms. Knowing I was admiring her beautiful abdomen, she twisted her midsection slightly, setting to life a rippling set of shark-gilled obliques, finger-like serratus and dynamite intercostal muscles. Every single inch of her midsection was stuffed to the brim with muscle, each striation fighting with each other for space, a chance to be in the spotlight, and there was not even a millimetre of her abdomen filled with empty flesh. Every inch was pure, hard, solid, dense muscle. She was all muscle. Just like the rest of her. All muscle.

“Why don’t you punch me? Straight in the gut…” she challenged.

I shook my head. I wasn’t crazy. Every bone in my hand would shatter. I rather stick my hand in a meat grinder, at least that would come out less damaged.

“That’s probably smart,” she said. “Not only am I built like a marble statue, I’m also just as hard as one, if not harder.”

She then grabbed the back of my head and gently pressed my lips against her incredible set if abs and guided me along the eight hard chunks of formidable muscle. Kissing her abs, slab was a wide as a cellphone, and as thick as a brick, arranged symmetrically and solidly packed, her cute outie bellybutton just lying below the third pair. Pressing against them was like pressing on a beautifully moulded metal plate, so hard…and running my hands over them, feeling each bump, her eight-pack felt like cobblestones.

She lifted up her perky boobs just to expose her muscles better, “This is Venom, then we have Seraphina, then Ajax, next to her is Athena, below them, Python and Invictus, then Titania, and lastly, Balthazar. And there you have it…my amazing eight-pack abs! Built by nothing but sweat, iron and beef! HUUUUUURRRRR!”

As her abs exploded once more, I traced the muscle down, tapering beautifully into a man-shaming Adonis belt, before continuing down into the contours of her delicious labia. Right now, her crotch was unshaved and the thick bush was covering most of her parts. But oh I missed the taste, and the smell of her genital pheromones, her cute little clit which was now the size of a thumb, but just as sensitive.

“Mmm…I thought you…prefer it shaved…” I asked, licking over the clit and smelling in her vaginal scent.

“Used to, but I figured…having this thick ass bush, keeping it nice and hairy…ooohhh makes me feel so manly, and dominant…imagine a guy looking at this and sees that my bush is thicker than his pubic and armpit hair…it’s gonna humiliate him! But for the sake of the contest later, I will have it shaved. That will be your job. You will shave my bush. We don’t want my thick sexy vaginal hair getting in the way of these gloriously RIPPED thigh muscles, do we?”

“Wait, you’re all posing nude for the Miss Olympia?” I asked.

“Oh haven’t heard? Yes. Fiona has pressured the IFBB to allow us full nudity on stage. That way, we can show every single inch of our HUGE, MUSCULAR bodies. And who gives a fuck? I LOVE showing off my body! Who wouldn’t, especially when you have a body as beautiful and ripped as mine!”

She then handed me a razor, “Now, be a good boy and help me shave off this thick bush, will you?”

As I knelt on the floor and shaved off her pubic hair, she admired herself even more in the wall-mounted mirrors. She was absolutely in love with herself. And I didn’t know I was gonna say this, but I never felt so in love with her as well. Maybe it was her confidence, or her sexy overdominance, or just her rippling musculature in general. All I know was, despite her being threatening and all, I was in love with her and there was a primal need for me to fulfil her every desire.

As I was shaving, I couldn’t help but to also worship the two concrete pillars or oaken tree trunks that were her thunderous, muscular legs. They were glorious. Feeling those legs, they were all muscle, frighteningly built muscle. Her thighs were easily larger than an average man’s chest, with layers upon layers upon layers of muscle packed beautifully into her structure, built into nothing but absolute perfection. Cable-like striations ran along her solid flesh, the cuts and grooves well-defined by the flawless lighting of the room. Then there were her glutes, those fucking glutes! Two smooth orbs of pure muscle, each the size of a beachball, and when she flexed them, they contracted grotesquely into two super huge cashew-shaped slabs of dense hard flesh, capable of snapping any man’s arm that dared to fuck her in the anus, the pumpkin-like striations glistening in the light, each striation forming its own shadow over her skin. It’s like, even her muscles had muscles! Think of the most muscular character ever drawn by an artist: Venom, Yujiro Hanma, Hulk, Juggernaut, Bane, then add another extra 200 pounds of muscle and that was Boa “Carnivore” Hancock. Her perfect tear-drop shaped vastus muscles tapered perfectly into her strong, womanly knees, before inflating again into well-defined heart-shaped calves, easily twice the size of a grown man’s thighs. The calves were well-separated into its individual gastrocnemius heads, each head as big as a rugby ball, before tapering convincingly into her powerful Achilles tendon. Knowing I was admiring her legs, she stood on the balls of her feet, flexing every single incredible muscle in those tree-trunk leg of hers, and I almost pissed my pants out of fear. Even her beautifully groomed bare feet looked much stronger, packing much more muscle than a grown man’s arms. And no doubt, based on research reports I collected later on, each of Boa’s massively muscular legs, from ass to toe, weighed almost 170 pounds (each!), and that was as heavy as an average man’s entire body. Can you believe that? Her legs were so fucking MUSCULAR, that one of it was as heavy as a man’s entire bodyweight! No wonder she weighed a monstrously massive 675 pounds in total. She was a total MONSTER!

Pretty soon, an anthill-sized tuft of pubic hair gathered on the floor. Man, that was a lot of hair. I couldn’t believe how bushy could her vagina ever get. But now that it was cleanly shaven, I could see her pussy in all her glory. It was magnificent. She knew it too. She grabbed the back of my head again, and pressed my lips against her labia. I didn’t need any further instructions…I just started licking…like the slave that I was, pleasing my mistress.

“Yes, mmmm….hmmmmm….yessss babe….suck me up like there’s no tomorrow,” she moaned.

“Yes, my queen,” I said.

“Queen. I like the sound of that. From now on, you’ll only address me as ‘My Queen’ or by my nickname, ‘Carnivore’. Do you understand me?” she said, forcing my head so I was looking up at her.

“Yes, my Carnivore.”

“Good boy. Do you know why I’m known as the Carnivore?”

I shook my head.

“Because I eat soooo much meat. I have to…in order build muscles like these!” she said, flexing and worshipping that huge right bicep of hers. “Oh yeah! Fucking huge! And right now, I have a craving for a certain type of meat I haven’t tasted for a loooooong time.”

I knew what she was referring to, and it was hard as fuck right now.

“Come here you little fuck!” And with that, as if I was a little toddler, she grabbed me by the armpits and slammed me onto the floor. I didn’t even have time to recover, she just threw her massive, heavyweight body right onto me. If you haven’t seen two massively built bodybuilders fucking each other, this was it. I was already huge! But compared to her, she was like the Hulk, only she was much bigger than the Hulk. And I wouldn’t say she fucked me. She fucking RAPED me. But I’ll allow it, she was my wife, and I was just crazy about her. And she had allowed this feral, animalistic instinct take over, an instinct so hungry and savage, she made the Hulk look like a gentleman. She was intense, she was rough, and if it was any other average guy, they would have been killed, bones crushed everywhere, pelvis all destroyed. No doubt she learned all this from the New Themyscira Institute, where every woman there was a brutal, brawny, hardy, sex-addicted monster bodybuilder. But luckily for me, I held on, and my reward: I unloaded like a fire hydrant, a testament of the best orgasm of my life, amidst being brutally wrestled, crushed and thrusted by the world’s heaviest, most gigantic, most muscular human being who was also my wife. Her reward? She too unloaded, but she unloaded like a volcano, and pretty soon, my entire body was drenched in her cum, puddles of milky, creamy Carnivore juice collecting on the floor. It was a sight to behold. Then, and there, she was a true Goddess, the ultimate specimen of human evolution.

“OH FUCKKKK YEAH! I’m a fucking MONSTER!” Carnivore screamed, standing up and giving herself a crab-pose most muscular that would be imprinted in the history books. She was ultimately hyperinflated. Monstrously inflated. “That’s more where that came from. But right now, I have a competition to dominate! And by this time tonight, Miss Olympia is gonna fuck Mr Olympia so hard…this fucking hotel is gonna crumble!”

And with that, like the alpha that she was, she grabbed me by the neck like a rag doll and licked all the cum off me like a mama-cat cleaning her kitten. When she was done slurping up her Carnivore juice, she slung me over her massive shoulder, and in her full nudity, strutted out of the room and into the Miss Olympia contest, leaving the poor janitor to clean up her protein-rich cum all over the floor in pump-up cubicle 2.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 13

“And last but not least, let’s give it up for your new Mr Olympia! Mike ‘The Unbeatable’ Hancock!”

As I stepped forward to collect my prize, I forced myself to smile. Usually winning the Mr Olympia would mean the world, knowing you’re the most muscular human being on the planet, but right now, this victory felt tasteless, exactly because I know I wasn’t the greatest. My wife just straight up pwned me. But of course, no one knew that yet. Photographers and fans were scrambling to take my photo, probably thinking I was the greatest muscle specimen history had ever seen. But they were wrong. The Miss Olympia would commence after this, and every single highlight throughout the Olympia weekend would pale in comparison to the Miss Olympia. It would surely displace the Mr Olympia as the greatest, most prestigious bodybuilding contest in the world.

As the entire line of Mr Olympia runners up flanked me, Jamal Hendrickson in 2nd place, and Big Ramy in 3rd, Kai Greene in 4th and Brandon Curry in 5th place, plus the rest of the line-up, all posing for one final group photo, suddenly, the sound of heavy metal music filled the entire auditorium.   Flashing lights and sparks took over the stage. And a charismatic female voice bellowed from the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, now that we have granted all these adorable amateurs their share of fun, are you ready for some REAL bodybuilding? Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give it up for…the Miss Olympia!”

Those of us on front stage stood in stunned silence as we turned our heads upstage, as we observed 12 metal chambers (like those cryochambers you see in scifi spaceships) lowered themselves onto the stage from the ceiling. On the front of each chamber was a rounded window, and we could see the faces of the women in each chamber. Their eyes closed, their expressions solemn as if they were in the middle of a deep cryosleep. I saw my wife, Boa “Carnivore”, right in the centre chamber, to her right was Sophia “The Abomination” Harrison, and to her left was Jillian “World’s Strongest Mom” Murphy. As the chambers lowered onto the stage, only did we realise actually how big they were. They were much bigger than those coffin-sized cryochambers. Here, they were at least the size of a California King bed. And even then, we could see the edges dented outwards, as if these girls had to force and overstuff their massive bodies into these tight chambers, the metal having no choice but to give way to their size.

As the chambers came to a halt, a misty fog shrouded the stage, and we heard the mechanical whir of the chamber doors opening. The auditorium was filled with a deafening silence, one could even hear a pin drop.

Then, the emcee on the speakers shouted again, “We’re back! BIGGER.”

Just then, as if in perfect synchrony of the Russian ballet, 12 massively muscular left legs appeared from behind the fog, their powerful bare feet stomping the ground in flawless unison, and the result, a thunderous boom erupted from their footsteps.

“BETTER.”

Again, in perfect harmony, 12 grotesquely built left arms appeared from behind the fog, the perfect lighting and deep crevices perfectly making out the different muscle groups: from bouldered delts, to bowling ball sized biceps and beefy thick forearms, the crowd could only gasp at the unbelievable muscular specimens on display, and this was only just the left arms and left legs. The rest of their physiques were still hidden in the fog. But one left arm and left leg were enough to convince the crowd, consisting of the most avid and knowledgeable experts in bodybuilding, that this was nothing they had ever seen before. Not even in the greatest Mr Olympia show that they have just witnessed. And a 10-second unilateral arm and leg teaser from the Miss Olympia was enough to overshadow an entire weekend of Mr Olympia drama.

“STRONGER!”

And like the machine-like uniformity of a marching contingent, the 12 powerful bodies emerged from the fog, all in their glorious nudity, perky nipples and pinkish areolas exposed, cleanly shaven labias freed, all with faces that could compete with the most gorgeous supermodels in the world. The gasps from the crowd grew louder, relishing in the magnificence of the sight, a magnificence they had never seen before, before erupting into roaring cheers. They should, for they were witnessing the greatest ever bodybuilders in all of human history, in what would be said as the greatest ever bodybuilding contest ever. Miss Olympia was now top of the food chain. If Miss Olympia was like the Olympics of bodybuilding, the Mr Olympia was somewhat like…the National Junior championships. The difference in standards were appalling.

In perfect synchrony, the 12 lean, mean, muscle machines marched forwards, like warriors to a battlefield, with the confidence of supermodels and the vanity of peacocks. Their well-oiled, tanned skin glistening sexily in the stage lights, their gorgeous makeup glowing at the audience, no doubt sending numerous hearts aflutter. The best part was, every single one of these girls were downright equal in terms of their size, muscularity, conditioning, posing, symmetry and beauty. They were just as ripped as the girl next to them, and no doubt, just as strong. Before stepping on stage, Carnivore made me measure her muscles, and these were the numbers I got.

Boa “Carnivore” Hancock’s measurements:

Weight: 675 pounds
Height: 7 foot 2
Arms: 36 inches
Chest: 90 inches
Waist: 32 inches
Thighs: 53 inches
Calves: 36 inches
Clit length: 3 inches
Body fat: 0.03%

Those were absolute monster measurements. And imagine all 12 girls having almost the exact same measurements. It was a monster fest! Albeit a gorgeous monster fest.

The screen at the back of the stage transitioned to show all 12 nicknames of the bodybuilders, according to their relative positions on the stage.

From the far left to the far right:

1)   The Predator (aka Summer Harrison)
2)   The Terminator (aka Savannah Harrison)
3)   Miss Heavyweight (aka Alexandra Stevens)
4)   Queen of Valhalla (aka Brianna Sorensen)
5)   The Abomination (aka Sophia Harrison)
6)   The Carnivore (aka Boa Hancock)
7)   World’s Strongest Mom (aka Jillian Murphy)
8-   The Man-Slaver (aka Mikaela Kruger)
9)   The Monster of Missouri (aka Paula Lamar)
10)   Daughter of Krypton (aka Cassandra Kent)
11)   The Spartan Goddess (aka Grace Philips)
12)   The Supervillain (aka Park Soyeon)

And all this occurred with us Mr Olympias still on stage, because they interrupted our final photo session. But the girls didn’t stop, as they approached us closer and closer towards front stage, the great wall of female muscles casted a gloomy shadow over us. And for the first time ever, the world, I mean everyone, got to witness first hand just how superior and dominant these girls were over us. They stopped just short of stampeding over us, and as they stood there towering over us, us male bodybuilders (the best in the world) looked like kindergarteners compared to them. Every single one of these girls could easily outmuscle me, the dominant champion of the Mr Olympia, what more my other rivals. I could see Jamal Hendrickson, pissing in his posing trunks as the Harrison twins approached him, the two girls who terrorised him in their party just last year (see Chapter 5). But now, the Harrison twins were bigger, much, much bigger, and no doubt, much, much stronger, adding another 300 pounds of pure muscle to their frame. That’s an entire male bodybuilder’s worth of muscle mass added to their already grotesque musculature.

“Ladies!” The emcee shouted, “Let’s show these male amateurs just how big and ripped you really are! POSEDOWN!”

“Oh yeah baby!” I heard one of the muscular girls shouted.

“I just love posedowns!” Another said.

And in no time at all, every single one of these girls just straight up exploded with muscle, every pose just another opportunity to hyperinflate themselves, veins and striations just rumbling from their dense, hard flesh. Some of my male rivals tried to counter them by flexing their own muscles. I saw Kai Greene trying to intimidate The World’s Strongest Mom with his ¾ back pose, but Jillian just laughed off his attempt, before going into her own ¾ back pose that looked so much more flawless in her execution, showing off a volcanic eruption of back muscles that Kai didn’t even have. Her back muscles like an oversized set of bronze armour welded firmly into her frame, tectonic plates of beastly she-meat forming a tsunami of muscle mushrooming over the head. On the other side, Big Ramy battled The Man-slaver with a most muscular, but it was no use. When Mikaela “Man-Slaver” countered with her own most muscular, Hulking-out to completely blot him out with her shadow, he stood no chance. The harder she flexed, the more he backed off in fear until he stumbled off the stage. She just straight up humiliated him. Brandon Curry was in a quad stomp with Miss Heavyweight, Alexandra Stevens, standing side-by-side to compare their muscles. Miss Heavyweight pretended to be impressed, stroking and slapping his thighs to check if they were the real deal. She challenged him to feel her thighs too, which he obliged. I could see the eyes almost popping out of his sockets as he felt the invincibility in her quads, but if that wasn’t enough she pointed her toes outward and brought them to a full flex, startling him with her superhuman muscular power. Her thighs were twice his size, and much more conditioned. He tried to flex even harder but it was no use. The girls were SO MUCH MORE BIGGER. And they were ripped. INCREDIBLY ripped. Unparalleled. Their conditioning was otherworldly, shredded to the core and dry as a bone. They just straight up dwarfed the men. Like professionals going up against a bunch of kids. And they were gorgeous as fuck too. All 12 of these girl’s faces deserved to be on the covers of Vogue and Vanity Fair. So there was no stopping them. They were just the ultimate female specimen. And they straight up humiliated us.

But I was the champion so I was the ultimate target. Still holding my trophy and with the medal around my neck, four of the girls started surrounding me. Sophia “The Abomination”, Soyeon “The Supervillain”, Cassandra “Daughter of Krypton” and Paula “The Monster of Missouri”, all preying on me like bullies in a back alley. Like lions cornering a helpless antelope. I looked like a kindergartener next to them.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, ladies? A little boy…how adorable. What do you have there, Little Boy?” The Abomination grabbed my trophy and read the inscription, “Mr Olympia…awww….how adorable…Hey, little Mr Olympia, have you met massive Miss Olympia yet?” 

She scrunched up the golden trophy as effortlessly as if it was made of paper, when in reality it weighted almost 50 pounds, before flexing off a confident, and terrifying most muscular. The other three girls joined in, crowding around me, their bodies over-inflating with pure grotesque muscle with every flex they struck. I curled up into a ball, hands covering my head. These girls just destroyed my trophy and any one of them could easily kill me with their bare hands.

“Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size!”

I looked up. It was my wife, The Carnivore. She had two male bodybuilders in between her herculean biceps, both their necks trapped in her arm lock, their faces tomato red, struggling for air as their windpipes compressed helplessly beneath the unstoppable force of her humungous rock-hard biceps. She then unlocked them, grabbed each of them by their jaws, and tossed them towards her female rivals like projectiles. The Daughter of Krypton and Monster of Missouri stepped forward and puffed up their iron-clad chests, each meaty pec the size of a turtle shell but much harder, hands on their waists in a Wonder Woman pose, and straight up allowed the human projectiles to crash into their hulking torsos. The girls hardly flinched, like stone pillars affixed to the ground by reinforced foundations, but I could hear the horrifying crack of bones breaking as the male bodybuilders slammed into the great wall of horrendous female muscle. The two girls could only laugh at the sheer pathetic-ness of their male counterparts, each grabbing one man, before flinging them over towards the audience as if they weighed nothing more than rag dolls. I could see 20 fully grown men in the audience fall to the ground as they tried to receive the heavily-built bodybuilders tossed at them, but what these girls manage to treat like rag dolls proved too heavy for even 20 men to handle as they were squashed beneath the weight of the male bodybuilders, added with the force of the throw. Luckily no one in the audience got hurt, just a few sprains and bruises, but the bodybuilders…due to the sheer impact of being thrown twice and slamming into two Miss Olympia beast-bods, they had to be warded for 2 months in the surgical department, half their bodies wrapped in plaster casts and external fixators.

But back on stage, Carnivore stepped between me and the four jacked ladies. “This man is mine!” She warned, a hint of venom in her voice.

“Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?” The Abomination challenged, before she and her three hench-ladies again started to show off their flawless and grotesque most muscular crab poses. I couldn’t help but admire how their bodies erupted into freakishly colossal mounds of rock-hard muscle, mass aplenty, fibres all pumped and rumbling. These were ladies who aptly lived up to their nicknames, Sophia Harrison no doubt was the only person in the world humungous enough to be called “The Abomination”. Cassandra with a V-taper and hulking frame that would make superheroes like Superman jealous, possessing the strength that could destroy buildings and overturn bulldozers, proudly named “Daughter of Krypton” after Superman’s home planet. Paula, showing off a physique so insanely and monstrously terrifying, her strut looking like she was about to pick a fight with every passer-by on the street, the way she savagely ripped out a gorilla’s spine during one of her combat trainings in the institute, and because of the fact she was from Missouri, everyone called her “The Monster of Missouri”. And Soyeon, despite being the youngest at only 18 years old, but already having a body fit for comic book supervillains like Juggernaut, Venom and Bane, (she even cosplayed as a She-Venom once, no muscle suit required), she was dubbed “The Supervillain”.

“URRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!”

“HUUUUUUURRRRRRRRR!”

I hid behind my wife, The Carnivore, because no man in their right minds would not be scared shitless at the sight of their frightening flex-off. However, The Carnivore was no man, she was a woman, the perfect woman, and she just laughed at the sight of the four ladies in front of her.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! You act as if I don’t have muscles as big as yours! You’re right, I DON’T have muscles as big as yours. I have muscles BIGGER than yours!” Carnivore bragged, and with a deep breath, she lifted her Herculean arms up, her thick rounded lats flaring as she did so, before curling her arms down in front of her in dynamite fashion. Every inch of her gorgeously built body, from her bowling ball-sized delts, to her volleyball-sized arms, to her oxygen tank-like traps, to her glorious Himalayan back, to her cobra-hooded lats, to her slabs of iron-plated double textbook-sized pecs, her compactly stuffed abs, her oil-barrel thighs with their individual python-wrapped muscular groups, her twin orbs of juicy, meaty basketball-sized glutes and her diamond-edged melon-stuffed calves (her strong, formidable Achilles tendons erupting with every shift of her feet)…they rippled, rumbled, exploded, jacked to the core and shredded with unparalleled definition. In her own version of the Most Muscular pose, with the combination of her incredibly enormous muscle bulk, my hulking wife, The Carnivore, looked absolutely superhuman as her muscles continued to explode, the dramatic effect of her terrifying muscularity heightened by the contrast between her brawny, herculean body and her gorgeous, heavenly supermodel face.

“OH YEAHHHH….MMMMM….FUCKING HUGE!!! I LOVE BEING HUGE!” 

While The Carnivore looked absolutely magnificent, the other four girls refused to be outclassed. They weren’t pushovers either, in fact they were far from beaten as they were still very huge, especially Sophia “The Abomination”, squaring up against my wife like lions, but instead of roars, claws and fangs, they were using their grunts, muscles and brawn. The girls, trying to outflex each other, hulking out in their most outrageous Most Muscular poses the world had ever seen. With these girls, it was no telling who could win. All of them were equally ripped, equally massive, equally conditioned, and let’s just say I was lucky to not be one of the judges for the Miss Olympia or to be competing against them.

Eventually, my wife got the better of her rivals, putting a powerful foot forward, threatening to overrun them. Not that The Abomination and her posse couldn’t hold their own, but I guess they wanted to save up their energy for the main judging sessions. The girls dispersed but they were far from defeated. Nevertheless, The Carnivore took this as a win.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA, FUCK YEAHHH, THAT WILL TEACH YOU NOT TO MESS WITH MY PROPERTY!” She turned to face me, still flexing out her outrageous sex-fueled muscular frame, her vagina overflowing with cum as she unloaded to the sheer orgasmic euphoria of her Hulk-out. “LOOK AT ME, BABE! I’M RIPPED AS FUCK! DON’T TELL ME YOU AREN’T JEALOUS OF THIS?!”

I gulped. “Yes, I’m jealous.”

The Carnivore laughed some more, her herculean figure towering over me, before wrapping her powerful arm around my shoulder, engulfing me with her muscularly-packed frame, a gesture which made me feel protected and warm, but at the same time, terrified and embarrassed. She was the alpha of the relationship now, playing both the man and the woman. With her superior size, strength and brawn, she was going to dominate and protect me, but with her beauty and womanly sex appeal, she was gonna seduce me to do her bidding. Just to prove her superiority, she flexed out her other arm, giving me a show of her shredded bowling-ball sized bicep peak, the towering hunk of densely-packed muscle crackling as it exploded out of her flesh, the well-oiled skin shining in the stage lights, as if it was carved out like an expensive bronze statue.

“What’s her name?” The Carnivore asked, kissing the bicep peak.

“Titan, her name is Titan, and she could lift bulldozers,” I answered.

“Very good, babe. Titan is pumped up and excited, and so is her twin sister…” she curled her other arm up to flex out her equally thunderous left bicep, and the crowd cheered as she did so, the invincibility of her front double bicep just immortal in the eyes of bodybuilding history, “Spartacus! They deserve a kiss from their number 1 fan.”

I obeyed, running my lips over both her rock hard biceps. I wrapped my strong manly arms around them, but it was no use, her peak was absolutely gigantic, and that was just the bicep. Taking into account her triceps, her delts, and the layers of undiscovered muscle she managed to pack over her humerus, her entire arm made my two hands look so dainty. Even when she unflexed her arms, letting them hang casually next to her torso, they looked much thicker and much more ripped than my entire leg. With 36 inches around, her arm was bigger than most people’s waists, and the definition was insane, the bicep despite not being flexed, it looked just as hard with its bowling ball sized orb swelling up from her flesh, striations and veins aplenty and not to mention her triceps, the lobster-clawed hunk of meat stuffed tightly into her flesh, the three heads furiously spilling outwards from her arm in anatomical perfection. And that was when she was relaxed, so imagine the power she unleashed when she actually flexed them out. Insane!

I knew she was cumming like a broken pipe, so I knelt down to receive the delicious overflowing juices from her vagina. Fuck the kids in the audience, I didn’t care about the R-ratings as long as I could lick my Queen clean.

“Mmmmm…Mr Hancock…my boy…mmmm….Mama approves. Someone’s in love…but get off the stage now. And you can see just how BIG I have become.”

(Next up…watch Big Boa and her rivals furiously outflex each other in the Miss Olympia!)

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 14

I took my place in the front row, just behind the judges, who I believe, were still trying to compose themselves after the mind-boggling revelation of female muscle right before them. Right now, the stage was set. The crowds were eager to witness female muscular perfection. The spotlights were directed front stage, the contestants: 12 enormously ripped women, unprecedented in the history of humankind, their well-oiled skins glistening in the light, the sexy musk of their pheromone filled perspiration tickling my nostrils. Their bodies, stripped to their bare nudity, delicious nipples, perky boobs and luscious vaginas exposed for the entire world to see, never mind even if there were children watching. Vaginas, no doubt, hypertrophied and deep, filled with its own layers of female muscle capable of generating forces equivalent to hydraulic pumps on a bulldozer engine. It was true. The Themyscira Institute trained their women in the art of sex as well, and the dildos there were insanely huge, practising their pussy massage skills by just the control of their vaginal muscles. No doubt, these pussies could now receive the full length of a stallion’s erect penis and even crush it. Their pussies could probably curl triple the weight than an average man’s biceps could. Plus, there was absolutely zero hesitancy or shame coming from these ladies about their nudity, and if anything, they were proud of it. They had driven themselves to the point of obsession and insanity in achieving the greatest physiques the world had ever seen, and it made sense that they would enjoy showing them off. They had changed the course of history, and redefined the ideal female body. Gone were the days when the perfect female would be sporting a slim, toned bikini body gracing the covers of Sports Illustrated. No. Now, it is the Age of MUSCLE. Huge, grotesque, shredded muscle. These ladies just proved muscles looked so much more better on a woman, and they could build them much bigger and faster than any man. They just have to push hard enough to reach a certain threshold, and then they would just explode exponentially. Just like synchronised swimming and rhythmic gymnastics, bodybuilding is now a woman’s sport. But way more extreme and brutal. And the best part was, these ladies didn’t inject a single ounce of performance enhancing drugs into their system. Just pure pumping iron. And a LOT of food.

Behind me, I heard a couple of children cheering. I turned around. There were two girls, one looked older, maybe around eleven or ten, and the other slightly younger, about eight or nine. There was a third kid, a boy of probably around seven, holding a placard that said “Go Mom!” A man was next to them, holding a video camera.

“You guys must be Jillian’s family,” I said.

The oldest daughter smiled. “Yeah, doesn’t our Mom look amazing!”

The boy grinned a wide grin, some teeth missing, “Mister Olympia, Sir, you look so small compared to Mommy!”

“Ross! That was rude! I’m sorry for my son’s behaviour,” the father said. “Congratulations man, you bossed that Mr Olympia contest. I’m Bob by the way, Jillian’s husband.”

“I think right now, you are the only person in the world who could relate to me,” I said, “Our wives are so much bigger than us, they could crush us with their bare hands!”

Bob laughed. “Oh at this point I just let her make all the decisions in the house. But she takes good care of us. Good to have a ‘superhero’ protecting the family, you know.”

“When I grow up, I wanna just like Mom!” The second daughter, Cathy, said.

I didn’t know how the kids felt, seeing their own mother naked and strutting around on stage, getting famous, but I think at this point, they couldn’t be prouder. Knowing that your mother was one of the most muscular human beings in the world, must be pretty badass. No one in school would dare to pick on them, and if they did, she would just manhandle the bullies’ fathers and rape their mothers, and destroy their cars with her bare hands. With the sheer size and strength she possessed, she could take on 20 fathers at once, and still crush them all in less than 30 seconds by brute force alone.

Looking at the stage again, the ladies were all in their neutral, relaxed states, their gigantic hyperinflated arms still bulging with muscles everywhere, dangling broadly at their sides, pushed outwards by the sheer thickness of their lats, V-tapers gorgeously displayed. Their necks, swallowed up by the immense bulk of their mountainous traps. Their terrifyingly beefed up legs, feet planted firmly on the floor, like heavily-fortified pillars built to hold forts and castles. Looking at the lineup, it was no different than a beauty pageant, only this pageant’s contestants could crush a gorilla with a bear hug and overturn a charging rhino. And the best part was how perfectly similar these glorious physiques were, besides skin tone and the attached supermodel faces. They were almost equal in size, and by this they were absolute monstrosities, each girl weighing no less than 670 pounds of pure dense muscle, which was almost double my current competition weight. Each girl exactly between 7 foot 1 or 7 foot 2 in height, which was super tall, although some NBA players could be taller but for ladies, they were giants. And they had to be tall, to balance it out with the immense width of their muscular physique. Symmetry was important for them, and so was aesthetics. Even then, they still look like they could dwarf the Hulk. Every single girl sporting boobs that could put porn stars to shame, but at the same time, displaying a background of jacked up pectorals like tectonic plates puffing out confidently from their chests. The only one that didn’t have such prominent boobs was probably Mikaela “Man-slaver”. She lost any evidence of boobies that she had. So other than her lack of a penis, hers was the body of a man. And if she were to compete in the Mr Olympia with me, she would win by a landslide. Not only was she bigger in all aspects, her pecs alone, without the boobs to obscure their unparalleled muscular perfection, would crush mine. The two thick slabs of girl beef, edges lined up perfectly, the inferior borders so thick, it casted a shadow on her abs, the middle clefts forming a 7-inch deep pec cleavage, the lateral and upper borders separated perfectly from the adjacent delts which in their own right, were equally impressive. So much muscle packed into her chest, her nipples were pushed all the way down beneath the lower borders, leaving all this area of uninterrupted pec space, so smooth that I could literally use her pecs as a table to do my sketches. But when she flexed them, holy fuck, the striations, all lined up perfectly to differentiate the individual fibres of the lower, middle and upper pectoral segments, with veins popping about, was a sight to behold. And she knew it, which was why after this event, she was heading to the Olympia expo and charging everyone 20 bucks for a picture of her signature pec bounce, and an extra 10 bucks if they wanna touch. Needless to say, she made more than 10,000 bucks on the first day alone.

The first pose the emcee announced was the legendary Front Double Bicep. These girls were all trained for the sole purpose of becoming the ultimate bodybuilder, so no doubt their posing would be flawless. My wife, Boa “The Carnivore” Hancock was no different. Barely a year ago, she need not know the intricacies of flexing in a bodybuilding contest (because she was in Wellness) but now, her flexing was as perfect as any champion bodybuilder, poses that could only be perfected by thousands of hours of constant practice. Her smile, as beautiful as it were, beamed both confidence, seduction and slightly twisted in a way that emanated a hint of cold malice as well…almost like a mild smirk. So whenever she was flexing with that smile, she looked as if she was contemplating the millions of ways she could slaughter you, and because of this, it displayed her persona of The Carnivore very well. When people see her, they fall in love with her, but at the same time, she will send shivers down your spine. So for her front double bicep, like a true professional, she always started with the feet first then made her way up. She placed a quad stomp firmly on the floor with her right foot, her thighs erupting with mass and striations as she did so, the tear-drop shaped quads well-defined like puzzle pieces attached firmly to her flesh, the sartorius twisting like steel cables running diagonally down her thigh. As for her left leg, she half-abducted her hip, opening up her thighs, and pointed her toes out so that her heel was lifted, thus flexing out her bulging calf muscles, diamond-edged and angulated at its peak, giving a perfect sideview of her entire leg. For the first time, people could actually see the full thickness of her thighs, and it could easily be larger than a fully grown oak tree, the hamstrings just looking deliciously built, like a stallion’s hind legs. Going up her waist, even unflexed, her abs looked much more defined and harder than any bodybuilder’s fully flexed midsection, but now as she tensed up her abdominals, her eight pack, serratus and obliques only erupted further, grooves forming dark shadows between every individual slab of muscle. And last but not least, the most important part of the pose: the arms. The Institute used to say: showing off the pose is one thing, teasing the audience and pumping up your muscles are another. With a rumbling grunt, with her arms still by her side, she swiftly flexed her elbows, as if doing curls, giving her biceps a nice solid pump. The second pump sent a couple of tortuous finger-thick veins slithering from the anterior insertions of her delts, criss-crossing down to her meaty forearms. The third pump sliced up her biceps into two separate heads, a central sulcus running down the globular ball of female muscle, making it look like she had two orbs of muscles in each arm instead of one. Once she was satisfied with the pump, she then abducted her arms in segments, pausing at 30 degrees, 45 degrees, 60 degrees before reaching 90 degrees, the perfect position for a front double bicep, before fully flexing out the bulk in her arms, the gigantic bowling-ball sized biceps, so well-defined that the borders made the muscle seem almost separated from the rest of her arm. It looked like a giant bowling ball just stuck atop her humerus. And don’t underestimate the amount of beef in her triceps as well, which despite being relaxed, still went on to show off the unreal thickness in her arms. 36 full inches, and it could be bigger now that she was fully pumped. And the oiling up did much to help add to the grandeur of her pose, for as the peaks rose to their maximum height, the rounded edges glistened in the spotlight like a polished trophy. As the other ladies went into their own front double biceps, each showing off their equally impressive globes of iron built flesh in their arms, each transcending the 35 inch mark, arms bigger than even an a regular woman’s bust size and even Phil Heath’s thighs during his prime Olympia days. And that smile, that damned smile on my wife’s face.

The next pose was the front lat spread. Again, going from feet up, The Carnivore did a ferocious quad stomp on each leg: wiggling her thigh muscles before lifting up her legs and then straight up smashing her feet down onto the floor with a loud thud, the meticulously built layers of muscular fibres just rippling out of her flesh. With her legs slightly less than shoulder width apart, both her feet firmly planted, her lower limbs were a sight to behold. Her glorified thighs were like two teardrop-shaped oil barrels, so outrageously massive that they were still brushing against each other despite being shoulder width apart, tapering down narrowly to her petite but strong womanly knees, before outlandishly swelling up again into her melon-sized calves, as if two rugby balls were stuffed on either side of her shins, before tapering down again to her ankles. For the perfect symmetry, The Institute demanded that every bodybuilder’s calves must be the same size as their arms, and every trainee took that seriously. Boa Carnivore’s calves were easily 36 inches in size in their widest diameter, outlandishly massive, and bigger than a male bodybuilder’s thighs. Once Boa achieved perfection with her legs, she took in a deep breath, drawing in her abdomen into a stomach vacuum, before tucking her thumbs behind her lower back, and then sliding them out again along her hips, thinning out her waist, at the same time, drawing out the massive bulk of muscle known as her latissimus dorsi, like two demonic wings of muscle just flaring out from either side of her torso, forming the perfect V-taper, a grandiose demonstration of her mind-blowing size and thickness that she had packed into her muscular frame. Her lats were so incredibly massive that their edges looked more rounded and circular than they were triangular. And not only that, her traps rose up like mountains, going all the way up to her ears, burying whatever evidence of any neck that she still had. If there was any doubt on whether my wife was the biggest bodybuilder ever to have graced the stage, all of those doubts were quashed at this moment because no human being in their right minds would dare say she wasn’t massive. With this pose, fuck, massive was an understatement, she was literally humungous. All 12 of these women were, every single one of them, 12 record breaking lat spreads displayed on stage, but ever just so slightly, my wife had the edge on this one. Not even the terrifying Abomination, Sophia Harrison, at one point the No 1 bodybuilder of the institute, could outmuscle my wife this time round. Don’t get me wrong, The Abomination, she was utterly gigantic! Easily emasculating Ronnie Coleman and Markus Ruhl twice over in their prime, but standing next to my wife, she may have slightly lost out in terms of size. Just ever so slightly, but the Olympia was a contest of the narrowest of margins, and with 12 almost similarly perfect physiques displayed on stage, it was these needle-thin margins that could determine the winner from the rest.

The next pose was the side chest. The Carnivore turned to the right, the anterior leg, which was her left leg, slightly bent, balls of her feet on the ground, and heels up, showing the extreme thickness in her hamstrings. There was just so much muscular beef in that thigh, and she knew it, teasing the audience by giving her hamstrings a quick slap, just to draw more attention to her. And for the first time in this contest, we had a glimpse of her juicy, delicious ass. Her left glute, the perfect, rounded muscular orb of muscle that it was, jutting out prominently outwards, as of a basketball was stuck to her hips. It was jutting out so much, we could just balance a glass of wine on the upper edge and none would spill over. She had this advantage, knowing that she was a Wellness champion a year ago, and with Wellness, the power lied in the glutes and thighs. Using that to her advantage, she built on that and right now, she was simply packed in the ass and thighs department, and it was pure muscle, which made them firm and hard. With glutes like those, she could easily squat a car if she wanted to. But it was the side chest, and nothing could take the attention off her chest. A twist of the torso, clenching her arms together to remind everyone the unstoppable mass in her arms, a winding finger-thick vein running along the side of her left bicep, her capped delts like volleyballs stuffed to her shoulder girdle, striations like pumpkin skin running down her flesh. But then, that was when she puffed out her chest, and flexed out her pecs, the rumbling striations dancing to life in layers like waves of tsunami on the beach. Upper pec, middle pec, lower pec…all muscle, veins aplenty, fibres exploding to life, lined up in parallel to each other, just terminating at the perfectly separated pec cleavage, which no doubt could crush pebbles if stuffed between them. Her boobs, the perfect symbol of her femininity, the rounded mammaries, well oiled, so smooth, glistening brightly in the light, the cute perky pink nipples and surrounding coin-sized areolas, just begging to be sucked. These boobs could put Angela Salvagno to shame. The thing about this side chest was…she was so massive, everywhere so packed with muscle, that it looked like a variation of a most muscular pose. And that goes all the other rivals on the stage. Each one of them displaying so much muscle, each giving a side chest that looked more like a most muscular than anything else.

Next the ladies turned around for the rear double bicep, brushing their lush hair away to display the perfection they had built on their backs. Every single one of them, even relaxed, had a demon-faced back that would make Yujiro Hanma piss his pants. I heard from behind me, Jillian’s seven-year-old, Ross cuddling up to his father, saying, “Mommy’s back looks scary…” in which Bob replied, “I understand son, but that’s how you know Mommy’s back is incredible, and she will use that incredible muscle of hers to protect us. She loves us very much, it’s Mommy, and Mommy isn’t scary…at least not to us.”

As for me, seeing that rear double bicep, Boa’s back would give me an erection, but those glutes definitely stole the show, and made me cum then and there. Her glutes, now in their full display, two perfect globes of muscle, the borders perfectly defined and separated from the erector spinae on her lower back. When she flexed them, they contracted into two densely-packed bean-shaped boulders, and I pity the guy that had the audacity to stuff his dick into her ass. It would be squashed up in seconds, and Boa probably wouldn’t even notice it, the pure insignificance of a guy’s dick as compared to the glorious magnificence of her gargantuan gluteus muscles. But let’s talk about her back, despite the outrageousness of her ass, her back was still extremely mind-blowing. Mountains upon mountains of muscle, a Grand Canyon sculpted onto her back, looking more like a symmetrically sculpted landslide of boulders rather than a woman’s (or any man’s) body part. She was so RIPPED, even her back muscles had veins popping out of them, criss-crossing along the teres, rhomboids, traps and lats. And that was all we could make up, because her back was so fucking shredded, so fucking RIPPED, that layers upon layers of undiscovered muscle - muscle that no human had ever been ripped enough to show off - erupted all over the place, with striations everywhere, all making up the Christmas tree in her lower back that was the definition of peak muscular conditioning, her erector spinae alone packing significantly more muscle than an average man’s entire back.

The rear lat spread showed a different dimension to her posterior. While the rear double bicep displayed her conditioning and muscularity, the rear lat spread displayed once again, the incredible size and width she possessed. Spreading out her back, her lats sprawled out in a monumental display of size, each lat looked bigger than a 24-pack of beer cans, and much thicker as well, almost twice as thick. She had such perfect muscle control, that she was able to individually flex every individual muscle group, each muscular striation like a wave of dense hard flesh rolling to life from top to bottom. And the traps, like aircraft carriers on each side, engulfing her neck, huge chunks of unstoppable girl meat rising like mushrooms clouds over a city, rising bigger and thicker than an industrial-grade fire hydrant. And all those muscles convalescing to the deep vertical groove running along the centre of her spine, a groove that could crush a man’s fingers stupid enough to find their way between her back “cleavage”.

As majestic as my beloved Carnivore was, the rest of the lineup was no pushover either. If my wife were to win the Miss Olympia, she would not go unchallenged, for every single girl on that stage was just as impressive as the next one. Sophia “The Abomination” Harrison, displaying her gigantic muscular package like the monster that she was; her sisters, the Harrison twins hulking out in a desperate and respectable move to defend their Miss Olympia dominance they have held these past few years; and The World’s Strongest Mom, Jillian, posing down like the oversized Jay Cutler that she was.

The next pose was the side tricep. Switching over to her side, Boa rolled up her shoulders, puffed up her bouldered pecs, tightened her cobblestoned eight pack, before releasing all the mass bundled up in her right arm. First to hulk out were her deltoids, the three heads: anterior, middle and posterior, each bouldered head erupting like a separate muscle on their own, (each head bigger than my entire bicep!) cumulatively capping her shoulders like an oversized NFL-grade shoulder pad, the striations like grooves on a pumpkin running down her flesh. The triceps, also with their three heads, like a giant scorpion’s pincer welded onto her humerus, the meaty but dense muscle belly tapering perfectly into her elbows. Her triceps alone were bigger than my calves, and she didn’t need great lighting to show off how separated her muscles were. We could make out every single groove that defined her delts, triceps, biceps, brachialis and brachioradialis, each with their individual heads, each head bulging gloriously from her flesh, forming grotesque knots of stone and muscle that made up the monster of her arm. It was an incredible sight, and Boa knew it. Those cold sharp eyes, piercing with sex and ruthlessness, the sense of confidence and dominance she bore over her entire body, she was flaunting it, and it was made clear with her predatory smirks, orgasmic grunts and the dick jerking “Oh fuck yeahs!” that she bellowed every time she struck a pose. 

The penultimate pose was the thighs and abdominals. Every contestant wiggled their dominant thighs around to loosen the muscle, before one-by-one they quad stomped onto the floor with raging fury, and like a thunderbolt, their thighs exploded with muscle - muscular legs like pistons capable of pushing back charging bulldozers and crushing bowling balls. Feats that Boa The Carnivore could no doubt easily achieve. Boa then folded her gigantic arms behind her head, exposing her cleanly shaved armpits, the insertion of her arm muscles all converging at her axillas, at the same time, her rounded lats inflating outwards like a cobra’s hood, her torso showing an unprecedented amount of width. Forget the V-taper that every man envied, she had gone so far beyond a V-taper, she had a fucking Y-taper! With her arms elevated, her bulging pecs were contracted into well-defined teardrop chunks of muscle, perfectly separated by the deep crevice in her sternum, the muscle belly on each pec easily beefier than any man’s thighs. Despite the man-shaming muscularity of her chest, her shapely boobs, nipples bullet hard, were proudly flaunted for all to see, a stern reminder that no matter how emasculating she was, she was still a woman, and a gorgeous one at that. She was both the perfect man AND woman. Finally, Boa contracted her midsection, and what ensued was a rumbling earthquake of abdominal muscles coming to life, her titanic eight pack with her dynamite obliques, intercostals and serratus bursting out of her abdomen like the rippling waves on a beach. Each girl on stage had their own distinct features in their abs depending on their genetics: some symmetrical, some asymmetrical; some more rounded, some more blocked and angled; some had their eight pack stuffed compactly together, some with had a wider gap running down the linea alba between the two columns of muscle. One thing was for sure, they were all impressive and any bodybuilder would dream to have abs like theirs. For Boa, her abs were more symmetrical, stuffed compactly, more blocked than rounded, each slab of muscle like bricks bulging out like the size of my fist, each so thick that each peak rounded up like individual bumps, their peaks shining distinctly in the light, their edges forming distinct shadows beneath each slab of muscle. Her cute outie bellybutton, like that on Amanda Machado, Andreia Brazier and Roxanne Edwards, nestled beneath the third row of abs, before billowing out into her fourth row, the lower abs forming a perfectly defined Adonis belt that tapered sexily into her groin. Flanking her abs were a stone cold set of obliques, separated beautifully from her eight-pack by the deep crevice of her linea semilunaris. Thick tortuous veins ran along her abs, the most prominent of which looked like a corkscrew, pencil-thick travelling up from her right groin before traversing over her lower right abs. With the size of her abdominal muscles, and Boa had SO MUCH muscle that EVERY SINGLE INCH of her abdomen was made up of pure muscle and nothing else, I wouldn’t say she had a tiny waist. Unflexed, her waist was 32 inches, but now in the full blown explosion of her pose, it could easily be 36 inches, and that was a thick waist. Nonetheless, all of it was packed with pure muscle and power, and relative to her towering height and intimidating width, she looked incredible. Unlike the ugly bubble gut of some male bodybuilders, hers was a gorgeous aesthetic display of strength and symmetry. Hugging her abs were like hugging a cobblestoned boulder.

And because of the way they were flexing, this was the pose that showed off the best of their vaginas. Boa’s one, I had seen a great many times, but now, she was puffier, and thicker, no doubt due to the amount of muscle stuffed beneath the labial folds. Earlier (see previous chapter), she showed off a monster bush down there, probably due to the boost in testosterone that her insane weight training had provided. Unshaved, there was a sense of pure animalistic dominance in her sex appeal, the pheromones from her hairy bush seducing me into a hungry sex-fuelled frenzy. Now, as I had helped her shave, she was able to display her pussy in her unobstructed glory. It looked sexy, it looked muscular, it looked STRONG. And the pink strawberry-sized clit was just bulging there, proud, just begging to be sucked. It wasn’t a thighs and abdominals pose anymore, it was a thighs, abdominals and vaginal pose. And as if on cue, all the girls in the posedown cummed, Boa included, the sexiness of their flex driving them into a unremitting climax. And they were just LOADED. The judges were soaked, not to mention the first two rows of spectators, me included. And the girls were shameless about it, in fact they were proud, displaying their potency for the entire world. Boa unloaded for almost an entire minute, her cum coming out strong like a garden hose, with an amount that could fill up an entire bucket.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA FUCK YEAH! EAT IT, EAT MY CUM YOU PUSSIES!” she gloated. “I’M JUST LOADED!”

I came to realise later that the girls really meant to cum all over the place, in the way they were trained. The Themyscira Institute really did modify the thighs and abdominals pose into the thighs, abdominals and vaginal pose, and in that, the girls would have to fully display their muscular pussies and cum as much as possible to assert their sexual dominance.

And while they were still engaged in this arousing juice frenzy, all the girls transitioned into arguably their most favourite pose of all: The Most Muscular. While there were a few variations of the Most Muscular in the bodybuilding world, in this case, almost all the girls were going into the crab pose most muscular. This is because this pose allowed them the most freedom to just literally hulk out and show off every single aspect of their unbelievable size and muscularity. And Boa was absolutely crushing it. If we thought she was massive initially, now she was just downright gargantuan. She raised her arms over her head, took a deep breath and like a thunderbolt, brought her arms in front of her and crunched down hard, puffing up every single inch of her hyper Herculean body. Her traps boomed over her head, and as she leaned forward, her traps rose to tower over the top of her head like the hood of a mushroom, the contours of her insanely developed muscle groups forming mountain ranges all over the expanse of her back. Her arms swelled up into epic proportions, the delts, biceps, and individual tricep heads hulking up into hard rounded boulders: capped delts puffing up to the size of basketballs, with biceps as big as bowling balls and each of the three tricep heads the size of rugby balls. And her pecs, tectonic slabs of female muscular beef thicker than textbooks now growing bigger than dictionaries. And with all that muscle, striations and veins pumped up and throbbed, allowing her to show off a monstrous display of grotesque and mind-blowing musculature. She owned that pose, and she did this while her pussy continued to churn out endless amounts of creamy white cum. By now, puddles were already forming on the stage, cumulating into a pool of delicious vaginal juices belonging to our 12 Miss Olympias.

I overheard one of the female fans standing next to me, commenting on the competition with her friend. They looked very fit, probably amateur bodybuilders themselves, competing in Figure. “Check out Boa. Amazing, she’s hulking out like crazy. What a freak of nature.”

“Yeah, see what she’s doing, that’s just pure animalistic dominance. She is just hulking out right now, solely relying on pure muscularity to show off her superiority. Sophia Harrison and her twin sisters might be in the game longer, but Boa is just downright challenging them to the end. It could go any way, even Mikaela and Jillian are up for it, but Boa will be hard to beat.”

“Yeah and to think she just won the Wellness division one year ago. But daaaamn she got JACKED. She’s packed up her body with A LOT of muscle, like AN INSANE AMOUNT of muscle and to catch up with last year’s Miss Olympias Savannah and Summer Harrison, is crazy. And not only that, her posing is phenomenal. Wellness and Bodybuilding poses are two completely different things, and I think she just crushed it in the mandatory poses.”

“Yup, she does it even better than the Mr Olympias. She must have practiced a lot.”

“If I had a body like hers, I’ll be flexing every single opportunity I get. But she brought the whole package. She has the size, the mass, balanced perfectly without ignoring the aesthetics, the symmetry, the conditioning, like I mean, damn! Look at her…she’s RIPPED! .”

“And she is soooo pretty.”

“Oooh, Katie, I didn’t know you’re gay.”

“I didn’t know too, but God, Boa really does make me go gay for her!”

“I agree, I’m getting horny just thinking about her. Who’s that Victoria Secret model again, the one FHM Magazine voted sexiest woman alive last year? She was also the number one on Maxim’s Hot 100.”

“Oh, Angelina Wesley.”

“Ya, Angelina or Boa?”

“Definitely Boa! Are you kidding me? A girl with muscle AND beauty? That’s perfection. Definitely, Boa any day. They call her The Carnivore, well she can eat my pussy any day!”

Listening in on the conversation, two stranger girls lusting over my wife, was weird, but I was super proud. This Boa, was mine!

That concluded the Miss Olympia, and I didn’t want to be one of the judges choosing the winner because it was definitely a headache. Every single one of these girls in the lineup could take the title. Though there were some fan favourites. Boa, of course, but there was also Jillian, Mikaela…Sophia Harrison who could have a chance to beat her elder twin sisters. Summer and Savannah Harrison had a big following because of their Miss Olympia legacy, but they too were in danger of losing their dynasty.

Backstage, I went over to my wife. Still naked, as she preferred to be, she was downing an oversized bottle of protein shake. The bottle was easily the size of a jug, easily about 3 liters, but I guess big girl’s gotta drink big. Approaching her, mainly because of the pumped up flexing she did just now, she was looking more colossal than before, and she just dwarfed me, a newly crowned Mr Olympia. Arguably the biggest Mr Olympia in history. That said a lot about her dominance over me.

“So, babe, what do ya think?” she asked.

Standing there, her skin glistening with both oil and sweat, she looked irresistibly sexy. There was no better display of brawn, beauty and strength. I went over to her and gave her a big hug, my arms struggling to even wrap past her Herculean lats. I was fully naked too because earlier, Boa had ripped off my posing trunks and now my 10 inch dick was pressing against her washboard abs, my skin feeling over the bumpy slabs of stone and meat. I made my way around her waist, even unflexed, it was as solid as a marble pillar, layered with lumps of dense feminine muscle. Touching her was like the most intimidating and most arousing feeling in the world. Seeing how she was slightly taller than me, I tiptoed and landed a passionate kiss right on her luscious lips, her lipstick and makeup rubbing over me.

“Mmm…I take it that you loved it,” Boa said.

“Yes, and I’m sorry for all the times I ever doubted you. Female bodybuilders are much stronger and much more muscular than male bodybuilders.”

“Not just any female bodybuilder. Me. I am much more stronger and more muscular than any bodybuilder ever! And in the awards, I will prove it.”

“Please forgive me…” I begged.

“You will be forgiven. But why do you crave for my forgiveness? Does my body scare you? Does the thought of me being bigger than you make you tremble? Are you afraid that I could crush you with just half my strength?” With that, she tightened her hug around me, and with her size she just straight up engulfed me. I was like a teddy bear to her and even at barely less than a quarter of her strength, I felt as if my bones were on the verge of breaking.

“Yes. I am afraid of how strong and big you are. And I am afraid of what you could do to me. But most importantly, I love you. I love you very much. With your transformation, you could have any man or woman you want, and there is no stopping you. But still, you are my wife, and I would love to be a part of your life forever.”

“Hahahaha, good boy. I love you too babe. I AM pretty irresistible. God, I love being huge! I love being RIPPED! I feel so powerful! And I can do whatever the fuck I want! Fuck! I can grab any person here and straight up rape them if I wanted to.”

I gulped. “You can rape me if you want.”

“Yes, yes I can.”

And with that, just right in the middle of the room full of people, she manhandled me and stuffed my cock straight up into her pussy and thrusted. And she thrusted hard. She pushed me right up against the wall, locking both my arms with one of her hands, the other wrapped menacingly around my throat, and she just thrusted, and thrusted, the ground vibrating profusely and with each thrust, timing simultaneously with her vaginal contractions, her muscular pussy compressing and relaxing around my erect cock. And the best part was, no one was trying to stop her from fucking me in public. She was absolutely terrifying. Never get between a predator and her prey, and the Carnivore was having a feast. It was definitely painful, and unrelenting, but I was so mesmerised by her dominant animalistic sex appeal that I just let her fuck me. Like I said, she had become the undisputed alpha of our relationship.

I came multiple times. The first was within 5 seconds but of course that was never enough for her, and she fucked me for another 15 minutes. Once she was satisfied, there was already a crater on the wall where my pelvis used to press against (any other average man would be suffering from pelvic trauma), her pussy dripping with both my cum and hers, she lifted me up by the neck with one arm, as if my 350+ pound body weighed like nothing, kissed me on the mouth, before tossing me over onto one of the lounge sofas like a rag doll.

 “You seem adequate. I used to get fucked by dildos the size of a horse’s cock back in the institute. You‘re lucky your dick is big, babe,” Boa said.

“Attention all Miss Olympia contestants. May you please make your way up on stage. The results are ready.” The PA announced.

“Now for my crown.”

The 12 hyper Herculean ladies strutted back up on stage, lats flaring, beefed up arms hanging from their sides. Every single one of these girls, with that confident smirk, every single one believing they could hold the title. I had to admit, and so did everyone, there was little separating 12th place and first. One by one , the placings were called, Mikaela “The Man-Slaver” was sixth, the Harrison twins: Savannah and Summer in fourth and fifth respectively.

“Our second runner up, let’s give it up for, The World’s Strongest Mom, Jillian Murphy!”

Graciously, the mega muscular mom in her mid thirties accepted her trophy, before erupting into a front double bicep, just to accentuate her dominance over her inferiors, two bowling ball peaks erupted from the flesh of each arm, well separated from the rest of the arm muscle groups. She didn’t win, but even in sentiment, she wanted to let everyone know she was still obscenely big and ripped, much more than any Mr Olympia in history and she could very well have won tonight, if not by the finest of margins.

Then there were two. Sophia “The Abomination” Harrison. The youngest of the Harrison sisters but certainly the greatest. Her parents were two of their gender’s most successful bodybuilders of their time: her father, Bill “King Hercules” Harrison, winning eight Mr Olympia titles at his time (although I could have beaten him if he competed today, like I said, in male bodybuilding, I was historic), and her mother, Fiona “Hulkbuster” Harrison, winning twelve consecutive Miss Olympia titles, and outflexing Big Ramy in an exhibition contest. Gifted with her parent’s legendary genetics, she started bodybuilding so young, and now, look at her. Inevitable. The top two most muscular human beings in all of human history. Then there was Boa “The Carnivore” Hancock, my wife. A freak of nature. And building a physique rivalling Sophia Harrison in just little less than a year, fuelled not only by genetics, but by sheer fucking will! She worked harder than ANY girl in the institute, devoured more food than five fully grown men in each meal, and rehearsed her poses every single opportunity she got. Her body was built by just pure pumping iron and nutrition. And she was it. A freak of nature.

Both of them were standing side by side, but despite them being from the Institute, there was no love. Not like how Boa loved Jillian and Mikaela as friends. Sophia Harrison was a prodigy, and Boa saw her as nothing more than a rival to conquer. Same goes to Sophia.

“And our new Miss Olympia title, goes to…Boa “The Carnivore” Hancock!”

Boa just smirked. As if she knew she was going to win, and her reaction was as calm as ice. And if Sophia had any anger, she didn’t show it. Sophia accepted her trophy, before making way for Boa. Basked in the glory of her newfound title, Boa gave the audience her title winning Most Muscular pose, further accentuating the fact that yes, she was the champion, and showing everyone why. She was just huge! Gigantic. Ripped. Shredded.

“I would like to invite my husband, newly crowned, Mr Olympia Mike Hancock to come up on stage,” Boa said on the mike.

I obliged. The emcee asked us to pose together as husband and wife, Mr and Miss Olympia, but I didn’t want to. Still, the crowd pressured me on. Eventually, Boa and I both went into our Most Musculars, and the comparison was astounding. She was bigger, MUCH bigger. We switched to a thighs and abdominals, she was more ripped, MUCH more ripped. Her legs and abs, just pure godly conditioning. And finally, the front double bicep. She was wider, MUCH wider and she couldn’t help but to stand in front of me, and I was completely obstructed from the audiences’ view just due to the sheer size she possessed. And all the times I doubted her, it came back to bite me in the ass. At this moment, she was well and truly, The Most Muscular Human Being in the world.

Up next: you have seen the absolute beauty in their muscular physiques , now see Boa and our girls in action for a challenge of strength. Completely humiliating the competition. Those muscles are not just for show.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 15

That night, Boa just straight up raped me. From the Olympia convention, out of nowhere, she just casually lifted me off the ground and slung me over her massive shoulder like a sandbag, and me, powerless to stop her, not that I wanted to anyway. She made her way to the hotel elevator, still in her full muscular nudity, attracting stares from every eye in the lobby, her thunderous bare footsteps silencing the hustle and bustle of this premier Las Vegas hotel, her powerful legs and immense weight sending vibrations that shook the chandelier and tiled floor, her body language just oozing an irresistible alpha energy. It wasn’t everyday you see the world’s most muscular human being in her full naked magnificence, ‘kidnapping’ the newly crowned Mr Olympia, making him look like a helpless child, her gorgeous face emanating a cold and ruthless aura, especially with those piercing eyes of hers. She pressed the up button for the elevator, and when it arrived, it was full. But the Carnivore takes what she wants. She just stood there, in front of the doors, and she need not utter a single word. And everyone got the point. The obscenely ripped, naked, humungous, mega hulk of a woman was just spine-chillingly terrifying. The passengers scurried out of the elevator like panicked cockroaches, and Boa smirked. She took a step into the elevator and I could feel the entire chamber tilt slightly downwards due to the sheer weight of my wife’s insanely muscular body. Plus, I was not light either. She was so wide she had to shift her shoulders slightly in order to make it past the doors. And while the elevator was big enough to house 15 fully grown adults, she took up the entire space. Such was the thickness and width and size of the Carnivore. All those meat, protein and beef transformed into nothing but incredible, pure, dense female muscle. She clicked on her floor and the elevator rose. It was a wonder it did not overload.

And once we reached her suite she shifted me into a bridal carry, “Suck my nipples and worship my arms,” she ordered. I complied. When we entered her room, there were already 6 male bodybuilders there. All my rivals in the Mr Olympia. All kneeling on the floor like prisoners of war. And the best part was, they weren’t even tied up or chained.

“They didn’t have to be,” Boa explained. “Their fear of me keeps them in line. Because if they do escape, I will find them and what I will do to them is much more excruciating than what I have in store now.”

She tossed me onto the bed like a rag doll. “Welcome to my harem, husband. As of right now, all of us Miss Olympias are celebrating our victories, and each of us has our own fair share of male bodybuilders in our harem. Sophia Harrison arm-locked four of your Mr Olympia friends back into her room and is now into some dominating wrestle fuck with them. Jillian tucked her kids to bed and is now violently fucking her husband and four other male Classic Physique competitors in her suite. But I…I like my men huge! The bigger, the better because nothing gives me more pleasure than dominating the strongest, most muscular men in the world with my incredible power!”

She then did a couple of poses, just to show off her muscular superiority over us.

“Mmm…oh yeah! Fucking ripped! These biceps, fucking huge!” she bragged, admiring and caressing the volleyball sized right bicep that she was flexing. “What the FUCK are you guys staring at? Get up and fucking WORSHIP ME!!!”

Consumed by fear and panic, we all scurried to life and grabbed on to any part of her we could. Some made their way to her mountainous back, running their tongues over the mountain range of bumps and crevices, some to her arms, kissing those incredible delts and biceps, but I wrapped my hands around her solid, thunderous thighs and diamond-etched calves.

“Oh no, you are my husband and I love you. So you get to have  the most delicious part of all,” she said, and with that she grabbed the back of my neck as if I was some kitten and forced my face into her voluptuous, muscular pussy.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHA HUUUURRRR!!!” she struck a most muscular, every inch of her muscles exploding with so much power, that one of the bodybuilders clinging to her back got ejected backwards as if he was hit by a grenade, and smashed against the wall.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU PATHETIC FUCKS! At this rate, I’m gotta fucking slaughter every single one of you. Except you my love, I promise to be extra gentle with you…”

When she was satisfied with all the worshipping, she grabbed me by the neck and lifted me almost two feet off the ground, before planting a hungry kiss, her tongue just slobbering all over mine and reaching down my throat. It was so violent, I thought she was gonna eat my face off! Then she threw me over to the bed and like the Carnivore that she was, fuelled by nothing but a pure dominant animalistic sexual instinct, she pounced onto me, her full 675 pound bodyweight landing onto me and the King sized bed giving way, the bed frame collapsing and the mattress slamming onto the tiled floor with a thud. Her slaves followed her, fighting with each other to worship her unstoppable body, while she stuffed my painfully erect monster cock into her equally monstrous pussy and fucked me to an almost-death. Her thrusts unremitting, her force merciless, her strength unparalleled. I cummed, and I cummed hard. But it was nothing compared to her. Her Carnivore juice, that pussy, was like a volcano. She utterly shamed me, her cum soaking me and the entire bed, as if we were left outside in a cum thunderstorm, the smell of her vaginal juices, perfumed hair and intoxicating body odour just filling up the entire suite from corner to corner. When I was spent and fucked unconscious, she was not satisfied enough, thus she randomly grabbed and manhandled one of the Mr Olympia bodybuilders like the helpless slaves that they were, and fucked him senseless, this time, no holds barred. Her violent animalistic thrusts, with her feral wolfish growls and lion-hearted roars, toppling the bed lamps and make-up bottles, shaking the chandeliers, vibrating the walls, ceilings and floorboards, to the point that dust and paint crusts were falling from the ceiling. It was like an earthquake in here. Then there was that deadly pussy of hers, lined with inhuman layers of vaginal muscles, built through years of merciless Kegels and vaginal curls, and as a result, capable of crushing stone and steel. Shot-puts, pebbles and bricks all crushed to bits, as her vagina, on its own, could swallow them into her orifice, destroy them with single crush before spitting the debris back out with such force that it could dent the hood of a car. If she could do that to stone and steel, imagine what she could do to a couple of puny erect cocks.  When one of them was fucked senseless and injured, she simply grabbed another one and did the same. Again and again until all six men were fucked to a pulp. I was pretty sure she didn’t even know who she was fucking, they were just slaves to her, utterly dispensable and only mere tools to satisfy her sexual needs and show off her pure alpha superiority. She was truly a sex machine and unparalleled muscular monstrosity.

I later found out that her violent sexcapade had piled up a number of complaints from other hotel guests. Her powerful thrusts could be felt five floors down and up, with cracks forming in the ceiling and walls of the neighbouring rooms. None of the hotel guests had any sleep and don’t get me started on her own suite. It was like a shootout had occurred in there. Broken furnitures, glass and cum everywhere, with six of the most muscular men in the world unconscious and bruised, with broken pelvises and fractured bones all over their bodies. The ten floors of that hotel had to be closed down in the next three months for renovation. But all these damages and losses were covered handsomely by the New Themyscira Institute. And this wasn’t the only hotel. Eleven other hotels in the city housing the other 11 female bodybuilders from the institute suffered similar losses and had to be compensated by the institute. Not that Fiona Harrison minded. She was loaded and this was exactly what she wanted, creating the perfect race of women unbounded by the limits of their physique, strength, beauty and sexuality.

The next morning, I found myself lying on the far edge of Boa’s King-sized bed, her massive physique occupying almost the entirety of the mattress, living little room for me. But I was cuddled right inside her, her huge body engulfing mine in her embrace, as if I was her little teddy bear. Strong, beefy, muscular arms were wrapped over me, along with powerful, massive, musclebound legs. Arms and legs that would have belonged to a fully-powered He-Man, but alas, they were owned convincingly by this goddess of a woman. She held me close, I could feel the rise and fall of her hulking torso with every breath she took, and for once, I felt so protected. Pressed together, skin to skin, muscle to muscle, cock to vulva, it was intoxicating. I could feel it, like an electric shock running down my spine, the bumps on my abs rubbing against the bumps on her abs, my well-built pecs rubbing against hers which were definitely much harder and bigger than mine, cushioned by the bounciness of her ample youthful boobs, my strong thighs feeling the rocky abundant tapestry of her thighs. Lying close, I took in the fragrance of her hair, the whiff of her pheromones making me fall in love with her all over again. I noticed one of my hands were free and I reached past her sturdy waist to feel the overwhelming firmness and ampleness of her beefy ass, each basketball sized orb packed with layers upon layers of unbeatable female muscle. They were solid…rock-solid, lined with a perfect cover of delicate, womanly, moisturised skin. Then, I felt a sudden hardness in her flesh as the massive glutes contracted, remoulding into a cashew-shaped boulder of impressive female beef, as wire-thick striations lined her muscular buttocks, as if I was running my hands over a spherical, iron-plated washboard.

“Mmm…you like that don’t you? My glutes are sexy, my glutes are POWER,” Boa said, her first words for the day, “you may slap them.”

I obeyed.

“Oooh, someone’s feeling extra naughty this morning,” Boa teased. “But I don’t blame you. I have a beautiful ass. And its super strong too. 4000 pounds on the Romanian deadlifts, pure osmium plates, 4 sets of 18 reps. The bar snaps every 2 sets coz it’s so fucking heavy! But not for me, I wanna get ripped so I have to go lightweight for time under tension. If it’s my max, it’s wayyyy heavier. But I stopped doing max lifts coz it takes forever to load the plates.”

I was afraid to keep asking because even at lightweight, 4000 pounds was heavier than your typical sedan, and her glutes alone could outlift even an Olympic gold medal lifter’s entire body strength.

“Don’t be afraid, you’re my husband, and I’ll protect you,” she assured, giving me a light kiss on the lips. “Okay, time to get up. We have a special day today. Today, we are challenging the Strongman competitors, and it will be aired on live TV!”

She stood up from the bed and all of a sudden darkness shrouded the room as her massive physique blotted out most of the sunlight coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. I scanned the room to notice the six bodybuilders from last night strewn all over the floor in a battered state.

“Whoa, my Queen, did you just kill these men?” I asked.

“One, you will address me as ‘My Goddess’ from now on. Two, no, I did not kill them because I decided to hold back, but it would be easy. They are just wounded. The Institute will pay them a lot of money as compensation. But don’t feel too sad for these pathetic slaves. They all have a history of raping and sexually harassing bikini and Wellness competitors in the past. Consider this retribution. Looks like they won’t be standing up on their own for a few months. Now, time for a muscle check!”

She casually and nonchalantly stepped over a couple of bodies before facing a full-body mirror. She struck a few poses, part of her early morning flexing routine. I just enjoyed the show. This was a girl who was completely obsessed with her body, but I don’t blame her. If you have a body as perfect as hers, unbelievably massive, infinitely perfect on every inch, obscenely shredded to the core…I would be flexing it every chance I get too.

“Oooh yeah…mmmmm…still ripped as fuck! And so fucking huge! AAAAARRRGGGGHHH!” she admired as she struck a most muscular. “I look UNBEATABLE!” she continued, switching to an invincible front double bicep. “Mmmm….fuck! This feels sooo good. I love being huge!”

I climbed out of bed and like a man in a trance, started caressing my wife’s body, fondling, licking, kissing and worshipping every inch of her perfect muscular body. Let’s just say she was utterly impressed. “Hahahahaha I control you! I have you worshipping me like the slave that you are. I’m just sooo sexy! A sex symbol! A goddess! Boa “Carnivore” Hancock, Goddess of strength, sex, beauty, muscle and POWER!”

As a reward, she grabbed my neck and forced my face into her pussy, and as I pleasured her most sensitive parts, she unloaded once more, spewing pint after pint of cum, Carnivore juice that was just so succulent and delicious, and nutritious in its rich protein. One ounce of her cum was double the protein found in an ounce of cow’s milk. I drank all of it, and in the end, she was unloading so much, that my entire stomach was bloated. I had a dare to chug down a gallon of milk in college, but this was way worse. This would easily be about 2 to 3 gallons of my wife’s cum, and I felt like I had just devoured an all-you-can-eat buffet. Seeing my overfilled state, my wife just guffawed, before ever so easily grabbing me by the ankles, dangling my body upside down and giving me a blowjob. “Don’t stop sucking my pussy.”

I obeyed and we continued our pussy/cock sucking 69. I barely lasted 10 seconds for my wife was an expert at blowjobs, and pretty soon, she was suckling on my dick like a hungry breastfeeding baby, chugging down pint after pint of my cum. “Mmm…tasty! But not as sweet as Jillian’s or Mikaela’s. But adequate.” Either way, I was still no match for her. By 1 minute, I was fully dry, and Boa, in all her glory, despite already unloading 2-3 gallons before this, spewed out another 1-2 gallons of juice for another 5 minutes.

“Mmm…delicious, isn’t it? With our diet at the institute, our cum could well win 3 Michelin stars, and our protein content is off the charts. One pint of our cum is almost double the amount of protein in one pint of 100% whey protein. Which is how we built these HUGE muscles! By drinking each other’s cum!”

“My Goddess, i’m feeling stronger already! You are a true Goddess,” I praised.

“I know. Now, give me a fucking side chest!”

I complied. Almost simultaneously, like a well rehearsed mixed bodybuilding routine, we slid into a formidable side chest, two of the world’s greatest bodybuilding posers exposing our respective pecs, but the degree of expansion in hers was just wow! While flexing, her pecs looked like a loaf of baking bread rising from its dough, mounds of female muscle beef just overflowing from her chest, arranging themselves into mountainous lumps of steel-hardened flesh, perfect contours separating the upper, middle and lower pectoral fibres. In just a simple flex, her pecs had widened two fold and thickened almost threefold.

“Huuuuurrrrr! Fucking pecs!” she groaned. Side by side, the comparison couldn’t be more obvious. She was gigantic, I was a midget. The only thing I had going for me was my beast of a cock, but even then, her vagina was puffed and muscled up from its months of vigorous stallion dick-dildo fucking that even my dick would not be a match for her vagina. “Now, side triceps!”

We both transitioned into the required pose, and Boa’s entire arm was just built different. With the triceps making up 2/3 of the entire arm’s muscle mass, the thickness in her arm alone could destroy the thickness in my entire thigh. And with the shadowing and fibres, her definition was out of this world, proving that every inch of her thickness was contributed purely by muscle and nothing else. That outrageous scorpion-claw shaped tricep bulging out from her flesh, bigger than my hamstrings, and her massive boulder-sized shoulders, bigger than my glutes.

“Mmm…beautiful! Grrrrr!” she grunted. It was a trick taught by the Institute as well, all these grunts and groans and comments, would definitely make the flexing much sexier. “Now, front double bicep!”

We struck a front double bicep pose worthy for the ages, but still, I could only be outclassed by my own wife. This pose was one of her favourites and there was no beating her perfection. Her biceps alone were like bulging bowling balls rising from the rest of her arm, and no doubt, much heavier as well. Bowling balls could typically weigh up to 16 pounds, but a single one of Boa’s biceps in isolation could weight up to 40 pounds of muscle, much heavier and almost triple than a regular bowling ball. And with that size, it wasn’t surprising. Her biceps were also bigger than my glutes. My softball-sized biceps were completely no match for her bowling ball ones.

“I’m still bigger. Much bigger,” she said, admiring her perfect feminine hulk of a physique in the mirror, comparing her overwhelming superiority over mine. “Bodybuilding is a women’s sport now hahaha,” she quipped. “We’re just so much bigger, stronger and heavier than any of you men!”

Posing in her glorious herculean nudity, she looked every bit the definition of the perfect woman. Physically, her strength was unbeatable, only requiring a small fraction of her strength to outlift the greatest weightlifting records, she was outrageously muscular and everything about her just screamed GIGANTIC. Even with all that rippling, grotesque muscle, her exotic Oriental beauty was unparalleled. Seductive, piercing hazel eyes beneath gorgeous double eyelids; lush, waxy, flowing jet-black hair woven like strands of exquisite silk; her rose-pink prominent cheekbones; luscious, deliciously kissable lips; one look at her and Angelina Jolie, Madison Beer or Megan Fox would be green with jealousy. Mentally, she was oozing with confidence, emanating an alpha dominant personality that would make any men bow down in submission. Sexually, she was superior, her seductive aura just sending juices flowing in both men and women alike. Something about her just radiated a beastly, animalistic sexual drive. All that muscle, just emphasising the definition of sexy, her primal obsession with her nudity, her throbbing puffy vagina with her thumb-sized clit, her insane abundance of delicious creamy vaginal cum, and right in this very hotel suite, her strong pheromone-filled body odour just filling up every corner of the room, inducing her victims into slave-like sexual submission.

“And look at my bush! You just helped me shaved it off yesterday, and now it’s grown back, super thick and super bushy! I feel so manly! Look at that!” she said, fondling over her forest of hair over her pubic area. “My bush is sooo much thicker than yours! And I’m a woman! All this testosterone going to all the right places!” she cheered.

Then she shot me a sinister grin.

“And right now, all this dominance is making me suuuper horny. The Carnivore is hungry and she wants her meat!”

And with that, like the ruthless predator that she was, she pounced on me, manhandling me as if I was nothing but a sex doll, fucking me up and raping me with nothing but her pure animalistic fury. This time, the whole room shook so vigorously, that the chandelier in the living room broke and fell to the floor. By the time she was done, cracks appeared all over the walls, floor and ceiling, and even the downstairs neighbours complained of her puddles of cum dripping through their ceilings as if a water pipe was broken.

After showering and makeup which enhanced her goddess-like beauty even more, we made our way to the hotel lobby to grab her breakfast. Boa “Carnivore” had taken a vow of full nudity, because it showed off every part of her body, every muscle in full display, making her feel absolutely primal and powerful. And she forbade me from wearing anything too, and everywhere she went, she slung me over her shoulders, carrying me around like the helpless slave/sandbag that I was.

Breakfast was at the hotel’s main restaurant. But my wife had specifically ordered a custom meal. Lots of beef, lots of meat, lots of carbs for energy and lots of protein. One full sized bull, its beef cooked just right, with two chickens, thirty egg whites, fifteen cubes of tofu, one large bowl of brown rice, twenty potatoes (mashed), one large bowl of Caesar salad and one gallon of 100% whey protein isolate. A waitress also brought her a shaker bottle filled with a creamy white liquid, almost a litre in volume. Turns out, Jillian had jerked off earlier this morning and sent her cum down for Boa’s daily dose of cum protein. Big muscles, big meal. And her digestive system had been trained to be near-perfect in its efficiency, thus 99% of all her food would be absorbed by her body. She wanted the window seat, overlooking the city, but it was occupied by five men in their thirties, most probably on a bachelor party. My nude wife approached their table, she was much bigger than all 5 of them combined. Much, much bigger. But she didn’t even need to utter a single word. Her imposing figure and sheer alpha dominance was enough to cause the men to piss their pants and surrender their table.

“Sorry, sorry,” one of them said. Damn, she just stole their table and they even had the audacity to apologise to her.

“Holy shit, you look gorgeous!” one of them said, absolutely entranced.

Again, she spoke nothing. She didn’t even make eye contact with them.

The waiters abandoned the guests they were serving to prepare my wife’s table. They cleared the dirty plates and changed the tablecloth and three of them brought a large, reinforced armchair in place of the regular chairs. Boa was so extremely huge and heavy, that no regular chair could possibly hold the sheer amount of bodyweight she possessed. Indeed, muscles are heavy and she was all pure muscle.

The chefs had to abandon all their orders just to serve hers. And with that, her table was filled with food in no time. She placed me on her titan of a thigh, like a kid sitting on his mother’s lap. And like the Carnivore that she was, she devoured her meal, much to the amazement of the other guests.

In the lobby, even barefoot, every step she took was like a giant’s footstep, thunderous and unsettling, causing vibrations all over the room like a mini earthquake. Her bodybuilder strut was grossly intimidating, hands clenched into fists, beefy manly vascular arms by the side, shoulders broadened, her humungous chest puffed up, boobs in full display, her eight-pack looking absolutely devastating, each individual slab of muscle sticking out from her abdomen, each slab glinting in the light, her perfect moisturised skin adding to the sexiness of her demeanour. Everyone need not be told to stand aside to form a path for her to walk, her beautiful face doing little to quell the spine-chilling terror of her imposing physique and aura. The doormen did their job of opening the doors for her, and she didn’t even need to bat them an eye. It was expected of them.

My wife’s Jeep Wrangler was parked out front, and not in a very considerate way as it was partly obstructing the hotel’s drop-off area. Another reason for the obstruction was the modifications done to the jeep, as my wife was just too fucking big to sit in the back seats. The truck had to be widened and lengthened to accommodate her hulking stature. Because of that, her hired driver was arguing with another driver for obstructing the road.

“I want you all to tell me what seems to be the problem,” Boa demanded.

Delia, who used to be Boa’s handmaiden in the Institute, now acting as her driver, and looking absolutely jacked like a steroid-fuelled Chris Bumstead. Delia was in a white exercise bra which although was XXXL, looked way too small for her, showing off her bullet hard nipples and a fucking brutal set of shredded eight-pack abs, veins aplenty. This was not supposed to a woman’s abdomen, it was a man’s abdomen, but alas, Delia owned it, and she was proud to show it off. And Delia’s arms, her beefed up arms evidencing months of monstrous iron lifting, looked more fitting on a comic book supervillain than a small town American girl in the form of Delia.

Arguing with her was an African-American man, bald but with tattoos aplenty and gold chains around his neck and wrists. He looked like a tough guy, probably worked as a bouncer, and he definitely reminded me of a real life Marsellus Wallace from the movie Pulp Fiction. He probably drove the Nissan X-trail that was parked behind Boa’s jeep.

“My Goddess,” Delia began, “this man doesn’t seem to understand that everyone needs to wait their turn.”

“Bitch, don’t think you look tough with your muscles and all, you can just park wherever the fuck  you like! You’re blocking the way, we have places to go, bitch!” The man yelled. “You know who I am, bitch? My boss own this fucking city!”

The sound of thunderous footsteps and a mountain of a shadow towering over him made him stare.

“Hahahahaha, that’s cute. And do you know who I am, little man?” Boa teased, putting her strong womanly hands over his smooth bald head, a menacing sign considering she could easily squeeze his entire head in her palm like a tomato. This man was far from little compared to the average man, which was why I thought he worked as a bouncer, but standing next to my wife, he was absolutely dwarfed. Imagine a nude, terrifyingly humungous wall of female muscle standing over you, almost an entire head taller and two times wider, built with nothing but muscle and veins, I think everyone would be begging for mercy. In his case, a dark, damp blot started expanding from his groin, and I don’t blame him. Any man would have pissed his pants at the sight of my wife.

With a sinister laugh, she said, “I am the Carnivore, 680-pounds of pure muscle, newly crowned Miss Olympia, the world’s most muscular human being! And I can do whatever the fuck I want!”

Her menacing laugh continued as she set me down from her shoulder carry, and made her way to the man’s Nissan X-trail. Standing next to it, she looked disproportionately larger. She was taller than the car and almost just as wide. As easily as if it was an oversized cardboard toy car, she crouched down to lift the car over her head, her muscles exploding in a demonstration of raw power. By now a crowd had already gathered, and none of them could believe their eyes.

“HUUUUUUURRRRRR!!! Oh FUCK yeah! Fucking lightweight!” And she proceeded to do 15 reps of shoulder presses with the vehicle.

With her point made, she set down the car, and strutted over to the man, who by now, was pale with fear, a puddle of pee forming around his shoes.

“Clean up this mess will ya,” she said, patting on his head, before lifting me up and getting into the modified back seat of her jeep, the entire vehicle sinking almost 10 inches lower due to the sheer weight of Boa’s unbelievable muscle mass.

“Next up, let’s fuck up some Strongmen!” she said as Delia started the engines.

[UnholyDk1103]

Chapter 16

The newly-constructed Strongman arena was located in the middle of the Las Vegas city centre. Usually, it hosted the World’s Strongest Man contests but today, The Themyscira Institute organised a very special event for the ages. The top 6 Miss Olympia winners from yesterday against the reigning Top 5 of the World’s Strongest Men competitors.

The red carpet was rolled out for the arrival of the competitors. The Strongmen had reached earlier and the Miss Olympias had timed their arrivals to be simultaneous. Six modified Jeeps stopped in front of their respective red carpets, and from each Jeep, emerged the six most muscular ladies to had ever graced this world, all in their full glorious nudity, well-greeted by a screaming crowd of fans and reporters. And most of those fans were girls.

The first Jeep, Mikaela “Man-slaver” Kruger, the only accessory she wore were a pair of Aviator sunglasses which made her look completely badass, her long black hair tied up in a high ponytail, her hulk of a body, with her beautifully sculpted, manly, boob-less pectorals, in what I would call the most masculine looking torso ever built, much more masculine than any man, and it belonged to a woman. She did an arousing pec bounce, better than any male bodybuilder could ever do, the smooth, vast, double-textbook thick pectoralis majors, each slab wider than a 24-pack beer crate, a chest capable to humiliating me, Hwang Chul-soon or even Arnold. She dragged along a pack of “pet dogs”, but they were actually Mr Olympia competitors, all forced by her to crawl on the ground like pups, leash around their necks and pulled tightly in the strong, unchallengeable grasp of Mikaela “Man-slaver” Kruger. For the red carpet fans and cameras, she struck a dynamite front double bicep, the twin peaks of female muscle monstrosities erupting like bowling balls, her expression just oozing a level of cold arrogance, and with her pets/slaves ogling her and barking “woof” like the dogs that they were, she looked every bit the sexy, dominant, muscular bitch that she was known for.

Next up, Savannah “The Terminator” and Summer “The Predator” Harrison, twin blonde beauties, their amazing bodies concealed by a thick fur robe made by real bear fur, bears that they personally slaughtered with their bare hands during hunting trips in the Canadian wilderness. Boa had shown me those videos: the twins, as usual in their full-on nudity to demonstrate their primal ferocity, each taking on a raging fully-grown male grizzly. The grizzlies weighed a whopping 700 pounds, and pound for pound, they were matched by the full muscular weight of the sisters. 700 pounds of densely packed feminine muscle and squaring off against their furry foes, the sisters had already won before it even began. While the bears were taller when standing on two feet, the girls, with their beastly muscular bodies, looked much bigger, much stronger and much more dangerous than their wild animal opponents. And they knew it. Savannah charged at her foe and slammed an uppercut right into the bear’s stomach with so much force, it puked blood and even its spine snapped in half, the animal landing onto the ground in a fatal bent-out shape with its back in an unnaturally broken angle. In just one blow, the wild adult male grizzly was finished. But Savannah was ruthless. She was The Terminator, and she WILL terminate her enemies. In a final FATALITY act like in Mortal Kombat, The Terminator grabbed the grizzly’s unconscious head and smashed it against her thrusting knee, her bunched up hamstrings and quads erupting with terrifying brutality, the bear’s skull shattering into a million pieces as easily as a watermelon.

“FATALITY! MUSCULARITY! MONSTROSITY!” she declared, before grabbing the bear’s protruding vertebra and ripping out the entire length of its spine from its body, lifting it up like a trophy.

Summer on the other hand, liked a more drawn out suffocating duel, inflicting a gradual painful torture on her enemies than the quick but intense death provided by her sister. Her bear was angry, and wild, and it struck first, its ferocious roars emanating like a battle cry, pouncing with its drawn up paws but as it was lashing out, Summer grabbed its paws with her strong hands, and now she was in a challenge of mercy against one of the most dangerous wild animals in North America. But she was very much in control. Summer was stronger, much stronger, and the bear whimpered as she laughed menacingly in its face, the 700 pound grizzly being overpowered by a 700 pound female muscular monstrosity. The bear was now on its knees and Summer bundled it over in a swift move that could only be well-trained, the massive 700 pound bear’s body knocking down a tree due to the sheer momentum of Summer’s powerful throw.  She pounced on it, the bear screaming, and she wrestled it to the ground, tossing and toying with her opponent as if it was a rag doll, breaking a dozen grizzly bones and joints in the process. When she finally had enough, the bear was frantically utilising whatever strength it had left to flee, dragging its damaged body on the ground, but Summer would not let her prey leave so easily. As the bear tried to scurry for its life, it moaned as it was aggressively dragged back by its beautiful blonde predator. Summer then tossed the entire animal almost 10 feet in the air, and before it even landed, she smashed an explosive kick right into its head. Imagine, the force generated by all that powerful muscle in her leg, her thighs as thick as tyres and her calves like two overgrown melons stuffed into her flesh, she had more muscle in just one of her beastly piston-like legs than all the muscle in an Olympic weightlifter’s entire body. With that kick, there was the killer sound of the bear’s spine cracking. And in one final show of absolute superiority, before the bear’s limp body landed, Summer slid underneath it and caught it with her arms, lifting the heavyweight 700 pound dead animal over her head, her dominant, victorious screams sending chills down my spine, screaming victoriously at the top of her lungs. And as a demonstration of their trophies, she sisters had the bear furs harvested and woven into the robes they were wearing now on the red carpet.

Although…their bodies are a bit too massive and muscular for the robe to cover fully, the fronts failing to meet and thus exposing parts of their irresistible torsos: the well-separated pectoral cleavage, hunks of glorious beefy pec muscle puffing from their sternums; the sexy, ample boob cleavage; their unstoppable rock-solid eight-pack, eight blocks of welded steel stacked symmetrically, beautifully and compactly in their perfectly shredded abdomen lined with multi-inch-deep cuts and grooves, curling perfectly into a man-shaming Adonis belt, continuing to their very puffy, very luscious vaginas. They posed for the cameras, as bodybuilders will always be bodybuilders, and finally, the sisters decided to strip off their impeding bear robes to show off the full force of their unbelievable muscularity. A few of their ripped handmaidens walked up behind the sisters to remove their heavy robes, and surely enough, what was revealed could only draw gasps and cheers from the crowd as the sisters flexed off some serious Mega-Herculean muscle. The identical twins had a serious naked posedown on the red carpet, and they were like LITERALLY mirror images of each other. I was sure they had posedowns like these growing up, one sister trying to outdo the other. And it was a show of pure animalistic dominance, each female predator flaunting their assets: grunts and roars showing off hunks of hyperdense feminine muscle much stronger than battleship armour. But sisterly love trumps everything. At the end of it all, the sisters gave each other a hug, massive muscular bodies in unity, too much muscle, and Savannah pecked her sister on the cheek. Then from inside the crowds of fans, a dozen of familiar faces emerged, former Miss Olympias (from a time before the New Themyscira Institute was established), joining on the red carpet, in their own silk robes before stripping for all to see. These women just loved nudity but rightly so. Just like Andrea Shaw, Iris Kyle and Yaxeni Oriquen, they were ripped in their own way. Sexy female curves, packed with shredded female muscle, some of the most muscular women in the world, discounting the New Themyscira trainees. Each one of these women, queens in their own right, with their own empire of lovesick men going after them, all for these women to sexually dominate. I recognised the Brazilian Olympia queen, gorgeous Latina beauty, Rayane Santos, famous for the big Brazilian glutes, the lady who ended Andrea Shaw’s Olympia title reign. Even though currently in her late 30s and mother to three children, she looked just as shredded as she did in her prime, the peaks of her six-pack glinting in the light. Then there was the conqueror queen from Russia and former Sports Illustrated cover girl, Anastasia Ivanov, famous for her sapphire blue eyes, but later for her outrageously ripped back - she had packed them with muscle as if they were carved based on a replica of the Ural mountains. She won the Miss Olympia on four occasions, and at that time, she was the youngest Miss Olympia winner ever until the Harrison sisters came along. Currently, in her 30s, she was married to UFC World No 1, Viktor Malachenko, but showing off a back double bicep, everyone knew not only she kept to her iron weights, she even doubled down on her efforts. She looked way better than her Olympia days. All 12 former Miss Olympias who appeared were champions at a time, and all were married, but I saw no rings on their fingers currently. They looked naked and they were hungry for some Harrison sister meat. The women, muscular queens themselves who could overpower any man who desired them, sex symbols for a generation, but now they swarmed towards Savannah and Summer, worshipping the twin’s unstoppable hulking musculature, sucking on those juicy pink nipples and puffed up labias. Individually, these women were the most muscular women ever during their prime, but next to Savannah and Summer, they looked tiny by comparison. But they didn’t mind, Savannah and Summer were happy to keep them in their harem.

“Mmm…so strong…so tasty…” Rayane moaned as she licked over Summer’s solid eight-pack.

“Oh God, kill me now,” Anastasia said, kissing every inch of Savannah’s piston-like thighs.

I later found out that all these women, after spending a night with Summer and Savannah, had recently divorced their husbands so that they could be sex slaves to the sisters forever. As part of their induction ceremony, they surrendered their diamond-studded wedding rings to Summer and Savannah, in which the sisters placed on their sexy bellybuttons and crushed the expensive stones into a fine powder under their powerful ab flex.

The next car belonged to Jillian “World’s Strongest Mom” Murphy. She appeared with her family, her firefighter husband looking absolutely skinny compared to his giant of a wife. She was at least five times wider and an entire foot taller. She carried her youngest son over neck, and her kids couldn’t hide their amazement as she got down on one knee and flexed off her right bicep, mounds of sinew and hyperdense meat contracting in a bowling-ball sized mountain of muscle, built by years of uncompromising concentration curls in the weight of bulldozer engines. I still couldn’t get how open she was about her nudity, especially in front of her kids, but I guess any pride with her perfect musculature could offset any embarrassment she had. She was, after all, the world’s strongest mom, and she could overpower ten well-trained firefighters in a tug-of-war with just a fraction of her strength.

“Ooff,” she grunted, admiring the mega muscle in her arms, easily wider and thicker than the size of my thighs, even her forearms packing with ultimate lioness muscle much bigger than my calves, juicy pulsatile sausage-thick veins bulging from her olive-tan skin.

“Kids, why don’t you give mommy’s bicep a kiss?” she called.

Her kids obeyed, proud that their mother could take on Thanos, The Hulk and Venom at the same time and still win. Their hands looked so tiny compared with the sheer size of their mother’s arm. With her three kids and husband feeling her glorious bicep, she then stood up from her kneeling position, her husband and kids dangling from her arms in a show of maternal dominance.

That was her right arm. In her left hand, she was handed a queue of four Mr Olympia competitors, most probably the ones whom she fucked the night before after tucking her kids to bed and finished off with her husband. The male bodybuilders, like those enslaved by Mikaela, were chained in the neck by metal leashes, and with just her left arm, she flexed up her bicep, another titanic muscle churning from her arm like industrial machinery, lifting up the four men by their neck chains with just a flex of her elbows.

“Kids, these are very bad men, who knows nothing about respecting women. They did very bad things to some of Mommy’s friends. Mommy is gonna punish them real bad, and teach them a very painful lesson,” Jillian lectured.

“Hooray mommy!” Her kids cheered. “Mommy’s a superhero!”

She gestured to her enormous right bicep holding up her family, “I call this girl, Love.” Then, gesturing to her left bicep holding up the four male bodybuilders, as if they weighed nothing more than four pillows, “And this is THUNDER!”

The next Jeep was much bigger than the others, because emerging from the backseat was a very big, very heavy, and very terrifying Sophia “The Abomination” Harrison. Despite just being 19 and the youngest of the Harrison sisters, and at a whopping 720 pounds, she was already a bodybuilding mammoth as compared to her sisters. She brushed back her satiny, thick blonde hair, and she looked as gorgeous as a prime Denise Richards in that FRIENDS episode she was in, only that Denise Richards wasn’t flaunting a naked mega-supervillain body worth 720 pounds of unadulterated feminine muscle. Rumbling sinews, pulsating cigar-thick veins and rippling striations lined her snowy well-oiled skin, their peaks glinting in the light, grooves and crevices perfectly separating each muscle group and muscle fibre, the very definition of perfect conditioning. As she fixed her hair, even her well-shaved armpits had veins. But despite her sheer mind-blowing size, she did not lack aesthetics and symmetry. Her outrageous bowling-ball shoulders, her massive lats shaming Nimitz-class aircraft carriers and that puffed up chest with pectorals the size of Spartan shields, giving her torso that over-the-top width, before tapering into a relatively small but equally solid eight-pack and two slabs of girthy obliques, every inch of her midsection packed by nothing but pure muscle with not a single ounce of fat in sight, and because of that her abs looked strong, extremely strong. Then her pelvis expanded to hold those incredible thighs of hers, lined with cable-like striations of the Golden Gate Bridge and with the toughness and thickness of the biggest redwood tree trunks in the world. With that she had a perfect X-taper that looked absolutely majestic. In her hands were two humungous 800 pound dumbells, each the size of a truck engine, made of pure osmium, one of the densest metals in the world. And stuffed into her delicious looking vagina was a 14-inch iron dildo, chained to a stack of ten 45-pound plates (total 450 pounds), and she was doing vagina curls with them, her muscular pussy receiving and expelling the heavily-weighted dildo to her pleasure as her clementine-sized clit bulged on, begging to be sucked.

“Strong girls need strong pussies!” she quipped. “And I have the strongest pussy of all!”

As she stepped out of her Jeep, a big team of male bodybuilders scurried towards her, heads bowed and bodies bruised, their demeanour showing nothing but defeat as their Mega-Muscle Goddess enslaved them. She must have had an absolutely relishing time raping and destroying these muscular men last night. A dozen of these male bodybuilders carried a palanquin, upon which a throne was placed. As she exited the Jeep, two men curled up on the floor, face down, backs up, and Sophia placed her barefeet on them. They whimpered as the full weight of her massive body pressed against them, but she didn’t care. Her feet were more important. The Institute spent tens of thousands of dollars a month on her foot care, massages and pedicures alone. There was a saying: when Sophia was not working out, she walks on her slaves. Soon, her bodybuilder slaves formed a staircase to the palanquin, and the entire structure sunk a little due to her massive weight. Then, the dozen male bodybuilders lifted the palanquin on their shoulders, trying their hardest to bear the weight of a 720 pound mega muscle goddess, her two 800 pound dumbells and the 450 pound vaginal curl contraption. And that was not all. Her harem, consisting of her handmaidens, beautiful women with bodies every man would kill for, each sporting enough muscle to humiliate Chris Bumstead in the Classic Physique division, climbed onto the palanquin and worshipped her hungrily, sucking on her bare nipples, toes, and abs like the perfect sex slaves they were.

And the last Jeep was us, my wife and I. She looked bigger than she did when she won the Olympia yesterday, meaning this was the biggest she had ever been. Pound for pound, muscle for muscle, pose for pose, she could match Sophia Harrison. She draped me over her right shoulder, telling everyone who was the boss of this relationship before asserting her dominance as an apex predator. In her left arm, she pulled along a bundle of skulls belonging to all the animals she had killed while becoming “The Carnivore”. I see a tiger’s skull, a lion’s skull, a bull’s skull, a wolf’s skull and a bear’s skull. She grabbed the bull skull, and in her left hand, crushed it in her fist as if it was no harder than an apple. Then her ripped handmaidens arrived, bringing in a robe made of pure animal skeletons. They helped drape it on her, the tiger skull and lion skull acting as shoulder pads over Boa’s massive deltoids, the ribs of a bull encasing her torso, although not all the way for Boa’s torso was way bigger than a bull’s ribcage. And then, in a show of muscular power, she showed off a Most Muscular pose, and just like that, she completely hulked out of her skeletal robe, snapping the bull’s ribs as her whole body exploded with female muscle dynamite. When she was done, she only laughed, and the crowd could only gasp. She looked HUGE, monstrously GIGANTIC and she loved it. Muscle upon layers of muscle, perfectly built, perfectly hard, perfectly massive. Even the Jeep looked too small for her: she could overrun the vehicle and toss it over the side of the bridge like a rhino trampling over a sedan. Which was exactly what she did. In her grotesquely hulked out state, she put me down and marched over to her relatively undersized Jeep, squatting down (demonstrating those ripped muscular glutes of hers) and lifting the whole car over her head.

“HHHHUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH! OH FUCCCCKKK YEAHHHHH!” she roared, before slamming the Jeep almost 50 metres across the parking lot.

She then pounced on top of the Jeep and slammed a fist right into the driver’s door through and through, before pulling out her monster of an arm and ripping the entire door off from its hinges in one swift swoop. If that wasn’t enough, she put both hands inside the hole she made on the door and pulled them in opposite directions, ripping the fully metal door in half as easily as ripping off a piece of cardboard. Then, she proceeded to tear off the bonnet, and pulled the engine out. She then wrapped the engine in a bear hug and crushed the whole machine into a million pieces. Next, she casually separated the roof from the body of the Jeep, and twisted out all the seats like pulling fire hydrants off sidewalks, before directing her attention to the wheels. She single-handedly wrenched them off their axles, with all the nuts and bolts intact, before tearing all the tyres apart in half. In the end, bye bye Jeep, but hello Boa, The Carnivore, now more bigger and scarier than ever, with her grotesque muscles in a mega hulk out after the feat.

“OHHHH FUCK YEAHHH! FUCKING RIPPED!” she yelled as she pounced on me next and raping me ruthlessly in front of an onlooking crowd of fans. Not that I was complaining. I was fucked senseless, almost to the point of unconsciousness. When she was satisfied, I could feel her strong vaginal muscles tightening around my cock, and with just her vaginal grip and nothing else (no arms, no legs) lifted my limp heavyweight body off the ground. She was literally carrying me around by the dick, using only her well-built vagina. But she wasn’t done yet. Grabbing a shot-put, she seductively stuffed it into her butthole, her hands fondling over her two basketball sized globes of well-built beastly muscular meat known as her glutes, before sending a rumbling burst of contractions roaring to life like angry shipyard machinery, her smooth musclebound orbs of ass exploding into two cashew shaped mounds of unyielding dense muscular flesh, thousands of rippling striations and muscle fibres terraforming on her shiny gluteal terrain. When she finally released her ass flex, she released the shot-put from her butthole and let it casually hit the floor with an angry “clang”, the concrete floor shattering upon its impact, the once perfectly spherical shot-put now deformed and crushed mercilessly by her powerful gluteal muscles into an ugly, tiny, scrunched up piece of iron barely larger than a plum.

“Mmmmm…strong as fuck!” she exclaimed, slapping her juicy musclebound booty, satisfied with her arousing feat of strength. “Now let’s kick some Strongman ass!”


The designated pump-up room was prepared specifically for the girls. When I recovered my strength from the public fucking by my wife, I was greeted by the sight of her, bench-pressing a barbell stacked with so much osmium weight which I could only ever dream of lifting. The flag-pole thick doubly-reinforced tungsten-plated titanium bar was bent into a U due to the sheer amount of weight stacked on either side, at least ten plates on the left and ten plates on the right, each plate a variety of sizes, the smallest plate being at least 180 pounds and the biggest at least 450 pounds. She was bench pressing almost two tonnes of brutal weight.

“38…39…40…” she counted before setting the bar on the rack, which I came to find out was her fourth set. She got up from her bench and hit a dynamite side chest pose to admire the mind-blowing pump she just did, her pecs now perfectly separated by a well-defined pec cleavage, her slabs of muscles protruding outwards at least 2 feet like stacks of dictionaries and upwards till her chin, hunks of hard meaty flesh in her chest looking thicker and stronger than Ronnie Coleman’s entire back. This was made even sexier by her firm, youthful, plentiful breasts, those pink nipples and areolas just begging to be sucked.

“Mmm…beautiful…” she admired. “I’m more womanly than most women and manlier than most men!”

She then turned to me. “Oh, my love, awake already? Did my workouts wake you? You better get used to it, because this is just a warm-up pump! My REAL workouts are much heavier, but today, I’m focusing on time under tension because I need to get ultra RIPPED for the show!” She then hit a Most Muscular for like the billionth time today, sending much more of her hulking musculature into another explosive frenzy, a demonstration of pure muscle mass and size overload. “Mmm…perfect! God, I’m HUGE AS FUCK! And I loooove being huge!” She then brushed back her thick, luscious raven-black hair, and then tapped a cute womanly finger on her high cheeks, the texture of her smooth, acne-free skin eliciting nothing but flawless silkiness, bouncy freshness and young shiny vigour, once again proving the immortal beauty of her features, despite the terrifying, hulking, man-shaming muscles she had ruthlessly packed into her feminine physique.

“Come here!” she ordered, pulling me in for a hungry, love-drunk kiss, my manly muscles pressed up against her Goddess-like muscles, my tanned skin pressed up against her shiny, pearly-white skin, her delicious sweat drenching me like a waterfall, her intoxicating pheromone-filled body odour drugging me into a horny, animalistic frenzy. I buried my face into her drenched armpits, the insertion points of so many of her gloriously thick muscles, with veins aplenty, drinking up her rigorous perspiration and taking in deep the full scent of her pheromones. I then slid down to her cleavage, both boob and pec, relishing the sexiness in them, receiving her bullet-hard but refreshing nipples, sucking on it like a newborn baby, her neck and back arching backwards in oxytocin-induced pleasure.

“Oh my, Mike, please…don’t stop. Show me…how much you love me!”

 I continued down her torso, face to face with her incredible, God-shaming steel-plated eight pack, flanked by two slabs of obliques as hard as stone, unyielding and ungiving in their texture, lining a flawless and absolutely fatless abdomen. Kissing her abs one by one was like kissing pieces of marbled stone, but much harder, and much tighter. Venom, Seraphina, Ajax, Athena, Python, Invictus, Titania and Balthazar, eight immortal eight pack muscles belonging to my wife, each slab alone much more stronger than an Olympic rower’s entire arm. A pool of sweat had collected in her cute little outie bellybutton, and I obliged myself to lick the liquid down my tongue.

“Careful, my love, you don’t want me to suddenly flex my abs, and crush your tongue underneath my muscles!”

I ended my worship by eating up her pussy, Boa spewing gallons upon gallons of Carnivore juice for my consumption, a nutritious and delicious delicacy worth much more than any herbal elixir. Once I was done, she continued her insane pump, stacking almost three tons of osmium plates for a “lightweight” but rep-driven squat. I decided to head to the bathroom, but not without noticing the rest of the girls in the pump-up room, pumping just as much weight as Boa, weight that would be better off used to train bulls than female bodybuilders. Mikaela “Man-slaver” was deadlifting enough weight to crush a truck, the thuds of her barbell as they hit the ground shaking the entire room and sending dust falling from the ceiling. Savannah and Summer Harrison were taking turns doing barbell rows, their backs now sporting a demon-face with veins as thick as cigars. The barbells looked absolutely tiny compared to their massive musculature, despite each barbell containing 14 osmium plates on each side, stacked to the brim which made them look wider and thicker than oil barrels on either side, the pole horribly bent into a U like my wife’s barbell. And Jillian “World’s Strongest Mom” was admiring herself in the mirror, holding a side triceps pose, her hands caressing the ultimate thickness in her thunderous thighs, noting the size in them that could easily be bigger than an average man’s chest circumference.

I didn’t notice Sophia Harrison anywhere, so I carried on down the hallway to the first public bathroom I could find. I just barged in, and I was shocked to see the mess. Men, regular guys who just came to witness the Miss Olympia vs Strongman spectacle, and their limp, naked bodies lying everywhere. Some of them bruised and bloodied. Cum was everywhere including on the walls and on the ceiling, with puddles all over the floor. Judging by the volume and unique smell to it, this wasn’t any regular man’s cum. But it didn’t take long for me to get an answer.

Hungry, feral grunts and growls emanated from deep inside one of the stalls, and sure enough, I saw the perpetrator. Sophia Harrison, her muscle-packed, monster-faced back staring back at me, pumped, vascularised and sweaty, the walls of the cubicle horribly demolished to make way for Sophia’s mega-hulk of a physique. I gasped and when she turned around, she had a man’s torso firmly in her grasp, his head thrusting in-and-out of her pussy like an oversized dildo. Her other arm was stretched down into her ass, and another man’s head was stuffed into her asshole, and a third man propped up on the toilet bowl, his mega-9 inch dick emptying its semen tirelessly into her mouth. She paused when she saw me, before standing up in her full enormous height. Her 7-foot-3 frame almost reaching the ceiling, and her ultra-herculean width occupying almost 3 cubicles. Her gigantic musclebound body eclipsed almost all the light in the bathroom, and I almost peed myself when she smiled sinisterly at me, despite the gorgeous features of her supermodel face.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Carnivore’s little pet,” she teased. It was then she left the two men’s heads stuffed firmly inside her pussy and asshole respectively, before flexing all that super strong, super powerful muscles in her vagina and glutes. Remember, earlier on the red carpet, she was doing 450 pound vaginal curls like it was nothing, and she could deadlift an entire bulldozer during her warm-ups. The men’s heads stood no chance. One moment they were struggling helplessly, and the next, they had gone lifeless. And when she released them from her orifices, their heads were crushed into a horrible, unrecognisable pulp. She had just popped their skulls using only her vagina and gluteal muscles as easily as crushing a pebble in her palm. Effortless.

“Holy shit! You just murdered these men!” I yelled.

She gave an evil laugh, and despite all her dominance and terrifying hulk of a figure, the laugh gave a hint of her youth and femininity, reminding me that this was just a 19 year old girl.

“I’ve killed many men in my life. When you have muscles as big as mine, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Everyone wants me, I have fucked prosecutors, police officers, witnesses, both male and female, either voluntarily or by force. Plus, it helps that my mom is rich and she has the best team of female lawyers out there. Have you heard of Sarah Walters? She is training in the institute, and oh my, she has muscles that could destroy half the male bodybuilders out there. When she goes into court, all she had to do was flex out of her sleeves and all the lawyers beg for mercy!”

She then reached down for a toilet bowl, and effortlessly tore it out from the ground, which was scary considering the toilet bowl was cemented firmly to the floor, before launching it straight at my direction. I managed to duck, but while I was thanking my lucky stars, she was already pouncing on me, manhandling me like I was some rag doll. In no time, she had me in an arm lock, and she reached for a contraption hanging in the corner. It was a strap-on, with a 15-inch beige-coloured fake penis.

She wrapped it around her waist, behind the penis was a huge metal ball the size of a shot-put with a vibrator built in, and she stuffed that into her vagina. Confident, she did a lat spread, thrusting out her new monster penis, ready for her prey.

“Meet Galatea, the Goddess of Thunder!” she said, stroking her fake penis. I reckoned it was custom-built specifically for her, the colour and straps blending in nicely with the contours of her hips and skin colour, making to look as if she really owned a real penis herself. “And Galatea is hungry!”

Mercilessly, she turned me around and pulled apart my butt cheeks, forcing the 15-inch monster into my anus. It was excruciating, but she didn’t care. With every thrust, she was getting hornier, aroused by the physical act and the dominant nature in which she did it. I screamed for help.

“Help! Somebody! I’m being raped!” But even if someone did want to help, how could they defeat the unstoppable force of nature that is Sophia Harrison, The Abomination.

Only one person could stop her.

“Boa! My Goddess! Boa! Please! HELLLLLPPPPP!” I screamed, hoping she could hear me from the pump-up room a couple of hallways away.

“Mmm…ooohhhh…mmmm…” Sophia moaned.

Then, the door came flying off its hinges, the wood crumpling into a thousand splinters as it hit the wall.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” Boa demanded, her muscles infused with furious venom as she stormed in.

“Oh, the little wife is here…oopsie,” Sophia said, before tossing me aside.

“He is MINE! MY HUSBAND!” Boa affirmed.

“And I just RAPED your husband.”

“You just pissed off a very ruthless enemy!” Boa yelled, before going into a crab-pose most muscular, and with the insane pump she had carried out, she looked absolutely RIPPED, absolutely HUMUNGOUS and her ultra-HERCULEAN physique just exploded from her frame. As she shielded me from my rapist, getting in between me and Sophia, I could clearly see how much my wife dwarfed me. Boa was almost triple my size, and I was already the most muscular Mr Olympia in history. She was the BIGGEST she had ever been, completely shredded to the core, every pound of muscle in its rightful place from her basketball sized shoulders, to her fire hydrant traps, to her cinderblock pecs, her washboard abs, those battleship thighs and double-rugby sized calves…she had every right to show Sophia who was the boss…or goddess.

“HHHHRRRRRGGGHHHH….HURRRRRRRR! Look at me! I am ALL MMMUSCLE! PURE MMMMMUSCLE!”

“Oh noooo, what am I going to do?” Sophia said, “Maybe I should show you what REAL muscle looks like!”

And with that, Sophia inhaled and went into a most muscular of her own, the sinews rippling to life one-by-one like waves on the ocean, veins throbbing like overloaded garden hoses, her ultra-HUMUNGOUS physique and BONE-DRY conditioning matching Boa pound for pound, muscle for muscle, strength for strength.

“URRRRRRR….OHHHHH FUCK YEAHHHHHH! THIS IS MUSCLE!”

With every flex, they pumped harder, all that blood flowing through their engorged veins, powering all that muscle. Huge, hard, shredded, beautiful, brawny, female muscle. Muscles that I want, that I could only dream of having. Boa transitioned into a double bicep, curling her elbows up elegantly and professionally to show off her gigantic peaks, the mountains and valleys of sinews in her beautiful bicep complex coalescing into one giant bowling ball of muscle sticking out from her arm, the peaks rising higher than her ears. The neighbouring bulk of her lats and the dramatic armoured iron in her delts add further to her size superiority. Her vicious grunts made her sound even more terrifying and powerful…and sexy.

“GRRRRRRRR…..AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH! I’m FUCKING MASSIVE!”

But Sophia was not deterred. Still smirking, she struck her own double bicep, and layers upon layers of muscle exploded, mirroring that of my wife. Sophia guffawed, knowing she had every ability to take on Boa. Yesterday’s Miss Olympia was just a minor fluke, she was every inch as good as Boa, if not better. And seeing these two beautiful women flex out their monstrously herculean musculature in a posedown of Goddesses, it was nothing but a flaunt of pure animalistic dominance. There was a level of hunger and arrogance that was just primal, beastly and sexual. They were like two lions showing off their fangs and claws, only now these girls had muscle and power and could slaughter a fully grown lion with their bare hands if they wanted to.

“Attention please. May the female and male competitors please report to the arena. The show is about to start. Thank you.”

The voice on the speaker put a halt to the outrageous posedown between Boa and Sophia. Sophia ripped off her strap-on and smashed it in the corner, angry that a stalemate had to be forced. “This isn’t over, Carnivore. I didn’t become the Institute’s cover girl just because I was pretty. I’m ripped and strong as fuck, and you’re gonna be really afraid of me.” With that, she tossed her hair back in dismissal of us, like that of a cocky sorority girl, before strutting out of the bathroom.

“My love, are you okay,” Boa turned to me, caressing me in her strong, powerful arms.

“I’ll live,” I assured.

“I’m gonna fucking kill her!”

Up next: the real show begins….

[cMence]

Top!!!!