[by SONJA] Hello, my name is Sonja !!

[elgat]

Sorry for not having been much present here lately... Anyway, I really appreciate the work of spoonmaster and your art, Sonja. I'm not giving you more ideas partly because a lack of creativity, and partly because I really second spponmaster.
Anyway, you'll have all my support and karma/appreciation, please continue posting your work here.

[Penguin]

Sonja needs to earn some money, so she enters an arm wrestling tournament at a gym. She wins.

Enjoying her winnings, Sonja enrolls in a self defense class. The conditioning exercises are too easy for her, and she easily throws the other students in practice sparring.

Now she makes some extra money on the side, as a martial arts instructor, and she uses the cash to go on a cruise vacation. The boat has an exercise/weight room where Sonja proves her strength, and then later saves a fellow passenger from drowning in a snorkeling accident. The grateful diver turns out to be the Captain of the boat...

[sonja]

Hmmm...

maybe a red dress like this one ??

 

(see last post from spoonmaster)

[spoonmaster]

Thanks for the compliments guys.  And don't worry Jeremy, I like the super strong women too, I'm just working up to that.

Sonja, love that red dress!  Exactly what I was thinking.  I think her boobs should be a little bigger, but aside from that she's perfect.  I've always loved all your work, and I can't wait to see what else you have on the back burner for us.

So without any further ado, here's the next chapter

Dear Diary (Muscularity:5),

Well, I sure had a strange day.  You know when you get really good at something, and you start to think that you're the best in the world at it.  Then you meet someone else who's so much better than you that you realize you're just a novice.  Well something like that happened to me today.

I was at the gym after school, as always. It's been a month since I broke that guys bench press record, and I've just gotten stronger and stronger since.  Now I'm using that 855lb barbell for my warm up set.  I'm not sure what my max is now, the most I can load on a bar is 965lbs, and I can put that up for 12 reps.

I've turned into somewhat of a goddess at the gym.  My super strength, along with stunning good looks is more than most guys can handle.  Most of the time when I work out, everyone else just sits there staring at me with gaping mouths over how strong I am.  It's gotten to the point where I do most of my heavy lifting after the gym closes so that I can be alone.  When I'm there after school, I'm mostly doing cardio and flexibility stuff.  Most of the guys don't even realize how strong I've really gotten.

That's especially true for the new guys coming into the gym who have never seen me workout before.  None of them realize how strong this body really is.  I suppose I don't blame them, they're usually big, muscular 200+ lb guys, while at 5'4" 137lbs, I'm kind of in that gray area between buff fitness model and small body builder.  I certainly don't look anywhere near as strong as I am, which is fine by me.  I enjoy showing guys just what this body can do.

Like take today for example.  This 6'2 hunk named Steve comes in.  Guy is pretty nicely muscled, I'm guessing he's got about 80-90lbs on me, of course I have no doubt that he's nowhere close to me in the strength department.  Guy muscle is nowhere near as powerful as the ones on this body. 

So I'm on the treadmill, doing a light warm up jog, when Steve comes in all dressed for his workout.  Of course his eye almost immediately find me, every guy's do.  My workout attire is this skimpy two piece that's barely more than a string bikini.  It's a bright electric blue, certain to draw guys attention, once they see me, my DD's are normally enough to keep that attention, especially as I'm jogging on the treadmill and they're bouncing up and down.  I can almost see Steve's eyes bouncing up and down in their sockets as he stares. 

Anyhow, after ogling me for a couple minutes, Mr Smoothie, jumps up onto the treadmill beside me and starts a jog of his own.  He introduces himself and tries to start a conversation.  I do a little flirting, making sure he gets a ample time to check out the twins.  Then I make a big show of checking out how fast he's going.  You see, on the treadmills at our gym, your speed is listed in these big digital letters.  He's been running at about 8 mph, not bad for a guy, but I snicker anyhow.  Steve, of course realizes what I'm doing, so he glances at my treadmill to see my speed.  I know exactly when his eyes get to the display that reads 15 mph, cause he gasps in surprise and nearly trips and falls off his treadmill.  You see, 15 mph would be sprinting for most guys, but I've been running that fast for the whole 15 minutes that Steve's been up here, and I'm barely breathing hard. 

Of course being a macho jock, Steve feels the need to beat me, or at least match me.  So he starts running faster until he is up to 15 mph also.  This is probably the first time that Steve realizes how fast that is.  To his credit, he's able to keep that pace up for almost 2 minutes before he has to stop exhausted.  I can't suppress a smile.  Beating guys at any physical activity is what I'm all about.  Now it's time to show Steve how outclassed he really is.  As he watches me with open mouth amazement, I start running faster and faster.  Steve watches in disbelief as my speedometer keeps climbing and climbing until it finally gets up to 30 mph!  My legs are moving in almost a blur as I cruise at that speed for about 10 minutes.  Finally, display of dominance complete, I stop, only slightly winded.

Now after I've completely humiliated a guy at the gym, they will do one of two things.  Either they'll walk away with their heads down, some never to return, or they'll assume that it was some kind of fluke, and try to beat me at something else.  Steve chose the later. 

Determined to impress me, Steve heads over to the chin up bar and starts cranking out some pull ups.  Again, I'm mildly impressed as Steve winds up cranking out 45 before dropping to the ground.  He gives me a little flex to show off his supposed manliness.  I like it when they boast, it makes it all the sweeter when I totally demolish them. 

I saunter over to Steve and ask him if he could boost me up to the bar.  I could easily jump up there, but I'd like to give the guy a chance to feel the goods.  He grabs me around the waist, a little surprised by the hardness he feels, then with a grunt, he muscles my 137lbs up to the bar.  I get myself a good grip and then, as Steve releases me, I quickly wrap my legs around his chest, making sure I have him in a firm, though not painful hold.  Now it's time to show Steve that this upper body is more than just a pair of tits.  You see, a pull up is hardly an exercise for someone who lifts many times her own body weight in every exercise.  Steve only weighs about 220, so he doesn't make it a whole lot more difficult, yet it will only drive home that much more how totally out classed he is.

Making sure I had a firm grip around Steve and the pull up bar, I start my set.  Even with Steve's added weight, this is ridiculously easy for me.  My arms move like pistons as I pump us both up and down over and over.  I blow past 45 reps without even slowing down and make it up to 60 before I get bored.  Most of the time that would be enough humiliation for my mark, but I was feeling a little frisky today, so I thought I take it a little further.  I did another pull up, but this time, instead of stopping as my chin reached the bar, I kept lifting.   My pulling turned to pushing as I lifted my entire upper body over the pull up bar, my legs (and Steve) still hanging below.  Locking my elbow and shoulders, I started lifting my legs up (and Steve) until my toes were pointed right up at the ceiling.  I was doing a perfect handstand, on top of the pull up bar.

Well, Steve was not to crazy about being suspended between my legs, a good 10 feet above the ground, so he starts squirming.  It makes it a little harder to balance as he constantly shifts his weight, but my years of gymnastics training and my incredible strength are more than able to compensate, and I'm able to keep us rock steady up in the handstand position.  Still, I don't want to take any chances that we might fall, so I give Steve a quick squeeze with my thighs.  He screams out in pain, and gets the message.  I tell him to remain perfectly still.  Once I'm sure he'll stop moving, I continue with my workout.  Slowly, under complete control, I lower our combined weights down until my nose barely grazes the pull up bar.  I hold that pose for a second, and then just as slowly and with just as much control, I push up both back up toward the ceiling, executing a perfect handstand push up.

I do rep after rep, each slow and steady to increase the resistance on my muscles.  After 30 reps, I'm rewarded as I actually start to feel a bit of a burn, at 40 reps I can really feel my muscles working.  I stopped at 50 reps.  I probably could have done a few more, but poor Steve, who I almost forgot was up there, let out this little moan.  I tucked my chin in to look up at him and noticed a wet spot on his shorts.  Looks like it's just another man who can't handle the power of a real woman. 

Keeping my arms straight and locked, I swung down, my body moving in a wide arc.  As I passed the bottom of my swing and started back up again, I released my grip on Steve.  He went flying across the gym and smashed into a group of guys 20' away who'd been gawking at me the whole time.  The whole group of them went down like a bunch of bowling pins, it was a perfect strike.  I swung around the bar a couple more times before letting go.  I sailed through the air doing twists and flips before landing gently on my feet in a dismount that would surely score a perfect 10 in any gymnastic competition.

Up to this point, it was a fairly standard day at the gym, but that was about to change.  I heard someone clapping behind me.  I turned to see this woman standing there.  She was by far the most impressive woman I'd ever seen.  She stood several inches taller than 6' with a perfect hour glass figure.  Her breasts were enormous and threatened to burst out of the tight fitting leotard she was wearing.  But what really impressed me was her muscles.  Even relaxed her arms were huge.  Her one arm was probably the size of both of mine together.  Now there are several women that go to my gym, many of them bigger than me, though none of them close to as strong, but none were anywhere close to as imposing as this woman.  For about the first time I can remember, I was actually a little intimidated.

So she introduces herself as Anna, and tells me how impressed she was with my strength, grace, and beauty.  She tells me she runs a gym, just for women, and asks me if I'd like to join.  Well, I'd looked at women's gyms before and I wasn't impressed.  It was just a bunch of ladies doing aerobics and yoga.  So I tell her no thanks, that I'm way too strong to work out at a woman's gym.  Anna just laughs and tells me that I am strong, for a guy, but if I really wanted to unlock my full potential that I should join her gym. 

Strong for a guy, huh.  I think Anna needed to see just how strong I was.  So I grabbed the biggest barbell we had in the gym, and loaded it with as many plates as it would take, 10 45lb plates on either side.  965lbs all together, the heaviest weight in the gym.  I reached down, making sure Anna was watching and lifted the thing up to my waist.  A pretty impressive feat, very few men in the world could duplicate it, but nothing compared to what I had in mind.  I jerked the weight up to my chest (965lbs is still a little too heavy for me to curl).  I made sure I had a good grip, and then with a heave and a grunt, I pressed the bar overhead using just the strength of my arms.  965lbs was just about my max at the shoulder press.  There was not a man alive who could lift so much.  As I locked my hands over my head, I looked triumphantly at Anna, sure she'd be awed by my might.

But she wasn't!  She was standing there with this bored expression on her face, like what I was doing wasn't totally incredible.  I was starting to get a little mad, so I lowered the weight and did another rep, this one taking almost all of my strength.  She still wasn't impressed.  I lowered the weight, and tried another rep, but I bit off a little more than I could chew.  I felt my arms shake and I knew the weight was about to fall, but just as I was about to loose control, Anna reached out, grabbed the middle of the bar with one arm, and snatched it out of my hand like it was a stick. 

I couldn't believe it!  It was half a ton!  It was really heavy!  Yet Anna held it in her hand like it was weightless.  As I sat there ogling at her, she started curling the thing with one hand as if her hand was empty.  She did 30, 40, 50 reps all the time smiling and showing no signs of exertion.  I don't know what was more impressive, her unbelievable strength, or the size her bicep ballooned up to with every curl.  I'd never seen an arm so big in my life, it was as big as my head.  After her 50 reps she simply tossed the thing up in the air over her head with a flick of her wrist and just as easily caught it with her other hand.  Then she did 50 easy reps with the other hand, all the while flexing her other enormous bicep. 

I couldn't help myself.  I went up to her and started feeling her bicep.  Touching it, squeezing it.  It was harder than steel.  Even with my awesome strength I couldn't dent it in the least.  In quiet conversational tones, seemingly unaware of the 1/2 ton she continuously curled, she told me that I could have that much power and more.  All I had to do was join her gym and she would unlock power in me that I never knew existed.  How do you turn down an offer like that.

Smiling as I accepted, Anna finally turned her attention to the weight she was lifting.   She grabbed the thing with both hands for the first time, and then, in the most impressive display of force I'd ever seen, crushed the entire thing into a formless blob of metal.  Her work done, she tossed the heavy heap over her shoulder.  The entire gym shook as the weight hit the floor.  Then I followed Anna out of my old gym, excited to see how powerful I could become. 

 

[Jeremy Lightning]

Wow, again, what an awesome storyline, first the lead girl does some incredible, nearly impossible feats of strength tha no man could possibly do, then another woman comes along and makes her look like an absolute weakling, despite the fact that the girl is strong as any 3 normal men put together. I'm very impressed by your writing spoonmaster, I can't wait to see more. k+!

[spoonmaster]

I did another chapter.  I don't know if this is what you're looking for Sonja (still looking forward to seeing some pictures from my earlier chapters), or if anyone is interested at all.  If so, I'll try to put together another one.  If not, I'll just move on to something else.  

It's a long one, I had to split it into two parts.


Dear Diary (Muscularity:6), part 1

Ooo, do I have a great story to tell you today, but before I get to that, I want to tell a bit about Anna’s Gym.  At first after meeting Anna, I was afraid that the gym would be full of superwomen, but that really wasn’t the case.  In fact, the main room of the gym was mostly like a regular gym, there were 5 and 10 pound dumbbells and everything.  Of course there were a lot more of the heavier weights, and there were 100lb discs here, which there weren’t any of at my old gym.

Anna told me that she had developed a totally different way of working out, designed specifically for women.  She boasted that she could take the fattest, most out of shape woman in the world and make her faster, more energetic, and twice as strong as an average man in less than a year.  After a month at her gym, I certainly believe it.  

Sure, most of the new girls start off lifting the smaller weights, but most of them progress, and progress quickly.  I’d say on average, most of the women that work out in the main gym area can bench in the 400-600lb range, for reps that is.  With some women being weaker and other much stronger.  And the women come in all different shapes and sizes, from fitness girls to straight up bodybuilders.  I’ve seen women here that must be over 7’ tall weighing over 500lbs of solid muscle, I’ve also seen women barely 5’ tall with virtually no muscle at all that probably aren’t more than 100lbs soaking wet.  Size seemingly doesn’t matter much; cause the two ladies I just mentioned were working out together, taking turns curling a 350lb barbell.

Of course, as strong as these women are compared to average women (hell, even compared to average men), none of them were as strong as I was even when I started.  Anna says any woman can be trained to be stronger the several men, but there are a few out there who have what she refers to as “The Gift”.  As you probably guessed, I have it.  Anna was stunned at how strong I had become using “traditional methods”, and she keeps telling me how I could become the strongest woman ever.  This mean a lot coming from a woman who can one arm curl 1000lbs like it’s a piece of licorice.

There are only a handful of these gifted women that work out at Anna’s Gym.  For those selected few (and you literally have to be hand picked by Anna to join this program), there is a special gym down in the basement.  In the basement gym, there are weights the likes of which you can’t even imagine.  I was overawed at the size of the weight plate, especially as Anna told me that they were made of a metal many times denser than normal weights were made from.  I was even more awed, as I was looking at the plates and say that one of them was 1 ton!  For just one plate!  And it wasn’t even the biggest plate there!

Anyhow, Anna started me off right away on a vigorous training regiment, and let me tell you, it worked wonders.  In the last month, I gained more than double the strength that I gained in the last three months at the regular gym combined.  Just a couple of days ago I was able to grab a 1000lb dumbbell (which is one of the smaller weights down here) and curl it with just one arm.  It was heavy as hell, and it took all my strength to lift it just once, but it was far more than I could do just a month prior.  I was pretty proud of myself for being so strong, and then I remembered Anna curling an equal sized weight without using any effort at all.  I still have a long way to go if I’m going to be as strong as Anna predicts.

Anyhow, along with gaining all that strength, I noticed an increased growth in the size of my muscles as well.  I’d been averaging about 5lbs of muscle growth a month over the past 4 months.  This month I put on 12!  For a while my body type has been somewhere between buff fitness competitor and lightweight bodybuilder, now, at 5’4” and 149lbs, I definitely have the build of a bodybuilder.  Personally, I love the look, but it does have a few drawbacks, the main one being that after gaining 34lbs of muscle in the last 5 months, none of my clothes fit me anymore.  And that is where today’s story starts.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t like shopping for clothes; I love it.  And with the lucrative session business I have on the side, I have plenty of cash to fully refit my wardrobe.  But there are some things that are harder to replace than others, such as my school uniform.

I go to Middle Brook High School, a private school with a rather strict dress code.  The girl’s uniform consists of a plaid skirt that goes down to the knees with knee high socks so that none of your legs are showing, and a button down, long sleeve, white shirt to fully cover your torso.  Both the skirt and shirt are made specially for the school, embroidered with the school’s monogram, and can only be purchased through the school.  This is where I ran into problems.  

See, over the last few months, my muscles have been growing, and getting thicker and thicker.  This didn’t make a difference with the skirt, but the shirt was fitted.   Now, after putting on more than 30lbs of muscle, the shirt is very snug, especially around the chest and over my upper arms.  It’s gotten even worse in the last month, and I’ve been very careful to keep my muscles as relaxed as possible.  Unfortunately, I had this itch on the back of my neck this morning and I started scratching it like crazy.  Well, bending my arm to reach the back of my neck caused my biceps to flex, and I’m afraid my shirt, already stretched to the point of breaking around my relaxed arm, didn’t stand a chance.  As I felt the relief of scratching an itch, I also heard the ripping of my clothes.  My sleeve split right over top of my bulging bicep.

Now, let me mention, that I’ve worn the same outfit, everyday since I’ve been working out, so no one in school has really seen my new build.  I was actually a little nervous about what people would think, since none of the other girls were more than a little fit.  Well as soon as my shirt ripped, the guy sitting next to me looked over to see what happened.  His eyes about popped out of his skull when he saw the bicep bulging from the tear in my sleeve.  I gave him a little wink; I think he started to drool.

Anyhow, my teacher, Mrs. Saunders, noticed what happened, and asked me what I did to my sleeve.  Well, I was feeling a little playful, so I told her “I’m sorry Mrs. Saunders, but I guess my arm are just too big.”  Well, the whole class was looking at me now, and being the exhibitionist that I am, I decided to give them a little show.  I raised the arm of the sleeve that hadn’t yet ripped, and gave it a powerful flex.  My rock hard bicep tore through the cotton sleeve like it was made of toilet paper.  Now the whole class was staring at my 15” biceps (pretty impressive for a 5’4” girl, huh), almost all of them with the same expression the kid next to me had.  Hell, it even took Mrs. Saunders a couple moments to regain her composure.  Eventually she sent me to the office to get a new shirt.

So I get to the office, they have several extra shirts, just in case one gets spilled on, or maybe ripped, hehe.  So they give me a couple of shirts to try on, unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, they didn’t have one for someone my height that had sleeves wide enough that I wouldn’t rip right through, something I made perfectly clear by flexing through a couple of the shirts they gave me to try on.  In the end, the secretary said they’d have to special order me a shirt.  For the time being, she cut the sleeves off the shirt I had, telling me I’d just have to wear it like that for a while.  I was psyched!

So anyhow, I headed off to my next class, strutting around with my arms all bare.  I was muscular enough now that you could see the definition in my arms even when I wasn’t flexing.  It seemed everyone in school stopped what they were doing to gawk at my arms as I walked by.

So I finally got to my next class, history.  There were already three guys in the room.  They instantly stop talking once I walked in and instead spend a good deal of time staring at my bare arms.  It takes a few moments before one of them gets up the guts to come over and talk to me.  And then it takes him all of 5 seconds before he mentions my arms.  Well you know me, always one to show off, I flex my big ole 15” guns for him.  Now all three guys are around me, gushing about how awesome my arms look.  I tell them to go ahead and feel them, and they nearly trip over themselves trying to grab my arms first.  They just marvel over how solid my biceps are.  The whole time I’m wondering what they’d think if they knew just one of these arms was strong enough to do curls with any of them, hell, one of these arms is strong enough to curl all three at the same time without much effort.  

I was just about to give these guys a taste of my power when we heard a shout from the door “What the hell is going on in here!”  All three of us whipped our heads around and saw Mr. Bressler, our history teacher, standing in the doorway looking pretty mad.

Now let me tell you a little something about Mr. Bressler, we all call him Mr. Breastler, and not just because the words sound similar.  You see Bressler loves women’s breasts, and all of his students know it.  Nearly every class, he gives us some assignment that has us face down in our books, or writing something.  He then walks around the class, stopping at the desks of all the busty coeds and ogles down their shirts at their young perky tits.  Now none of the busty girls actually have a problem with this.  It’s well known that Mr. Breastler has never failed a girl with big boobs, and the better looking the breasts, the better the grade is.  Of course, I’ve been getting straight A’s in Bressler’s class all year.  In fact, most of the girls will unbutton a button or two on their shirt and subtly stick their chest for most of the class to get as good a grade as possible.
Anyhow, I was a bit surprised at how mad Bressler looked.  I mean my big ole titties were practically bursting out the top of my mostly unbuttoned shirt. Anyhow, Bressler tells us we all have detention!  I was pissed!  First of all, I usually go right from school to the gym for a couple hours, second of all its Friday, so I got plans.

[spoonmaster]

Dear Diary (Muscularity:6), part 2

Anyhow, of course I show up to detention, I don’t want to get suspended, but I’m pissed.  I have my shirt all the way buttoned up, but it doesn’t make a lot of difference.  The thing was already tight around my big boobs, now with a wider back and thick pecs, the shirt is one deep breath short of bursting.  Anyhow, we do our hour of detention.  It’s Friday night, so there’s no one left at school, and Mr. Bressler tells us we can go.  So the four of us get up to leave, and Bressler tells me to stay for a second.

So Mr. Bressler waits for the three guys to leave so that we’re all alone, and then the asshole starts yelling at me!  He tells me how I was so pretty and had such a great body, but how I was screwing it up by getting big muscles.  Well I was already pissed!  Now I was steaming!  This fucking pervert kept me after school on a Friday because he didn’t like my muscles!  Then the asshole tells me if I don’t loose the muscles, he’s going to fail me in his class!  God, I was so mad, I’m surprised he couldn’t see steam coming out of my ears.  That’s it; this guy is getting his ass kicked!

I was about to rear back and knock Bressler into next week, when a thought occurred to me.  What’s better than beating a guy up, totally humiliating him first.  Mmmmm, the thought actually excited me a little.  You see Mr. Bressler is no small man.  In college he was this big shot football player who never made it in the pros, so he went back to college and got a degree to be a teacher.  He was a big guy, about a foot taller than me, and almost twice my weight.  It was going to be really cool dominating such a big man.

So I start by putting on my sexiest face.  I said “Awe, Mr. Bressler, it’s a shame you don’t like my muscles.  I think you’ll find they let me do some things the other girls can only dream of.”  Bressler wasn’t even paying attention to me.  That was about to change.  I took a little breath and stuck my chest out a little.  It was more than my shirt could take.  The top button shot off my shirt with a snapping noise and flew across the room. 

Bressler looked at me to see what the noise was, he instantly noticed that my top button was unbutton and his eyes zeroed in on my tits.  Now that I had his complete attention, I took a much deeper breath.  My poor shirt never had a chance.  This time two buttons shot off (one hit Bressler right in the forehead, hehe) as my big, voluptuous breasts pushed their way through the front of my shirt.  “Can any of the other girls do that?”  I asked.  Breastler was just drooling. 

I grabbed the two sides of my shirt and pulled them apart.  Then let the shirt fall from my shoulders onto the floor.  I stood there in front of Breastler in just my bra, letting him take in the full effect of my awesome upper body.  The perv’s eyes never left my boobs.

I gave him a second to stare before I continued.  “I’m sure none of the other girls can do this!”  I took a really deep breath; this time flexing my pecs has hard as I could.  My breasts hardened, becoming much more solid than anyone could imagine.  They pushed against my bra, getting bigger and bigger.  Of course my bra was made of cotton, much harder to break through than just a button, but my muscles were made of steel.  My bra had no chance.  In seconds I heard a loud rippping sound, and then SNAP!  My tits burst through my bra like it was made of tissue paper.  The bra followed my shirt to the ground, and now I stood before Bressler with my top bare.

I started doing a little pec bounce for him.  Apparently watching my big tits bounce up and down one at a time was more than ole Bressler could take.  He jumped up off his chair, came up to me and grabbed my tits.  For someone who loved women’s tits, he sure didn’t know what to do with them once he had them.  His hands were clumsy as he randomly squeezed and groped my boobs, gushing over how they were the firmest breasts he ever felt.  I actually felt sorry for his girlfriend, hell, I doubt he had one.

Anyhow, after about a minute of his groping, he finally got into the position I was waiting for.  He slid both his thumbs into my cleavage.  I quickly flexed up my breasts, squeezing them together.  Not too hard, I didn’t want to hurt him, not yet, but hard enough to accomplish my main goal: total humiliation. 

Actually, he was so engrossed with my breasts it actually took him awhile to realize that his thumbs were stuck in my cleavage.  He tried to give them a quick yank to pull them out, but they didn’t move, not one iota.  Now he really started pulling, using more and more strength, it didn’t matter, not against the power of my breasts; he wasn’t going anywhere until I let him.  I couldn’t help but to giggle at the site of this big man being totally controlled by the weakest part of my body.

My giggling only made him mad.  He started pulling with all his might, nothing.  He actually put his foot on my thigh so he could get better leverage, but his thumbs mine as well had been stuck in concrete for all the effect it was having.  For a moment I almost considered keeping his thumbs stuck in there forever, but I had other plans.  Just when he started pulling his hardest, I relaxed my tits.  Mr. Bressler went flying backwards, loosing his balance and falling on his ass.

Now I was really laughing, and Breastler was really pissed.  Just to make sure I continued to taunt him.  “What’s wrong Breastler?  Can’t handle a little girl’s tits?!”

Well, he just jumped up and lunged at me.  Once again he grabbed my tits, only this time, instead of gently groping, he started squeezing them as hard as he could.  This might have been a good tactic against a normal woman, but it was pretty useless against me.  I simply flexed my chest to it’s fullest, and watched the awe on Mr. Bressler’s face as my tits solidified into two rock hard pieces of muscle.  Now his powerful squeezes couldn’t even dent my mighty mammories. 

Furious at his inability to hurt me, he let go of my breasts, and instead of squeezing, started to punch them.  This proved ineffectual as even his strongest punches just bounced off of my boobs without hurting me in the slightest. 

Once he looked like he was about to punch himself out, I decided it was time for his next lesson.  “You better watch out Mr. Bressler, these tits fight back.” With that I lunged forward, slamming my chest into Mr. Bressler’s.  The force was more than he could handle and he fell back to the ground.  As he got to his knees, I grabbed the back of his head with my hand and slammed his face into my fully flexed tits.  His face bounced off, just like his fists did. 

Mr. Bressler was having a bit of a hard time getting up, so I helped him up to his knees.  Once I got him steadied, I twisted my shoulders to the right, and then swung them back around hard so that my breasts slammed into Mr. Bressler’s face.  The force was so great that he was thrown all the way to the wall several feet away. 

Let me tell you, dominating a man is wonderful, doing it with only my tits was even better.  I was really getting off on my complete and utter domination of my teacher.  I was trying to decide what to do next, while I let Bressler recuperate.  As he started to get to his feet, I came up with a great idea. 

First I walked up to him and tore off his shirt.  I figured if I was topless, he should be too.  Then I slammed my chest into his, pinning him against the wall.  Mr. Bressler’s anger had quickly turned to fear as he realized that he was no match for my power.  He tried in vain to push me away and get himself away from the wall, but my tits were keeping him there just as securely as if he was nailed to it.

For what I wanted to do next I needed him a little more aroused, so I backed off a bit and slowly and sensuously rubbed my tits up and down his body, every now and then giving him a kiss on the chest.  Men are so easy, you can treat them like dirt, but after a few moments of flirting, they’re ready to jump down your pants; Bressler was certainly no exception.  It only took a few moments to work him up to an erection.  I grabbed his pants and ripped them off him like they were made of tissue.  I reached down and grabbed his cock, it wasn’t very big, must be the steroids, but it was big enough for what I had in mind. 

I crouched lower and lower, until his little dingus penetrated the bottom of my cleavage.  I kept sliding until the entire length was surrounded by tit flesh; the little thing was totally engulfed by my enormous tits. I could feel him shudder as he reached further and further into ecstasy.  Unfortunately for Mr. Bressler, an orgasm wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.  I flexed my pecs as hard as I could around his cock; his pleasure was instantly replaced by horrible pain as his manhood was being crushed between my rock hard pecs. 

Bressler started banging on my shoulders, of course if he couldn’t hurt me by punching my breasts, he certainly wasn’t going to do it by hitting my shoulders.  I let him thrash and scream for a moment; then it was time to make it worse.  Slowly I started to stand back up, Bressler’s cock still trapped between my breasts.  Normally his cock would just slide out, but I was flexing so tight it was like the thing was caught in a vice.  As I stood, Bressler slowly started to rise right up off the ground.  As I got back to a full standing position I wondered what was more painful, his dick being crushed by my breasts, or the fact that his entire 280lbs was hanging from it.

He put his arms on my shoulders and pushed, trying to alleviate some of the stress on his cock, but it probably didn’t help a lot, he was still screaming in pain.  I let him just hang there for a moment reveling in my own power.  Then I decided he had enough, I relaxed my breasts, and Bressler plummeted towards the ground.  I waited until his face was about to pass my breasts, and then leaned forward into the wall.  I perfectly timed it so that his head was now trapped between the wall and my tits, with his face firmly in my cleavage.  My cleavage totally engulfed his face, cutting off his air supply.  He thrashed around for a bit but was already pretty wasted from everything he’d been through.  He was out in moments.  Once I was sure he was unconscious, I backed away from the wall and let him fall to the ground in a heap. 

I looked down at the 280lb grown man, totally dominated by a 18 year old girls breasts and smiled, maybe detention wasn’t all that bad.  To make sure his humiliation would continue, I grabbed his wallet from his pocket and put it in my purse.  That done, I grabbed what remained of his clothes and tore them into little pieces he couldn’t possibly wear.  Satisfied with my handy work, I put back on my own shirt, which I had to tie the ends around up under my breasts since all the buttons were broke, and skipped outside. 

There were only two cars left in the lot, Bressler’s and mine.  I went to his first.  I knelt down next to it and grabbed one of his tires with my hand.  Making sure I had a firm grip I squeezed my hand tight.  The tire was simply not designed to withstand the pressure of my super strong hand, and it quickly popped.  Assuming he had a spare, I went around the car and popped all the tires, just to be sure.  Then I jumped in my car and went home, smiling the whole time as I imagined what Mr. Bressler would do when he woke up naked with no clothes and had to get home with no money or car.   

[Jeremy Lightning]

Wow, another great chapter! I enjoy your writing a lot, spoonmaster, I hope you think about making further stories, not just for pics from Sonja, just write em for the sake of writing, to get your fantasies out there, like I have done the last 7 years. k++!

[sonja]

Hi,

i'm working hard on a new story....

[spoonmaster]

Can't wait to see it!  Is it off the stuff I wrote, or something totally different?

[sonja]

Spoonmaster and i are trying to make a new story together.
He wrote the text and i draw the pictures.

Stay tuned!!

we started:

http://saradas.org/index.php?topic=68941.0.html

[ransi777]

Hello Sonja,

I am a man who is 5'5" , 130 lbs pretty regular. I like wrestling women around my size. Do you think that you could pin me down in a wrestling match? If so how long would it take you?

[Sadaras99]

Hi Sonja!
I love your work and i have lots of ideas for your drawings, but they all involve sex (what can i say...)
Do you like to hear them when you have time?

[Nixon74]

This is a really great thread. Some goes for the other Sonja threads. Too bad Sonja left us... There are a lot of missing pictures unfortunately. Does anyone has those saved up somewhere? I would love to see those...

[Chainer★]