My Aunt Cindy

[Edhellion]

I come from a noble family in Europe, nothing fancy, but just noble enough to have a true pedigree and a good amount of money. My family also has a lot of traditions, however, one of which is that the female descendants of the head of the family should remain unmarried and dedicate themselves to becoming the best in whichever field they chose to specialise. The boys, who all led a carefree life, were supposed to spend the first summer holiday after they’d turned sixteen, with one of their aunts and so it came to be that I was to spend six weeks with my aunt Cindy. Nothing to look forward to, as I had recently gotten into a relationship with Shannon, one of the prettiest girls in my class, and I would also have to forfeit my Switch and my skateboard. It was all part of tradition, my father said however, and after all, it was only six weeks. What could happen in so short a span? As it turned out: quite a lot.
   As I said, I had this girlfriend, Shannon, who was everything most boys dreamed of. She was very pretty, quite smart, and she had a great sense of humour. Apart from that, she had an enormous sex drive and when we were together, hardly a moment passed without her in some way arousing me sexually. You might imagine the guys in school all thought me the luckiest fellow alive, but they weren’t entirely right. Shannon possessed every trait most boys valued, but for as long as I could remember I had been fascinated by muscular girls and Shannon was far too slim for my taste. Sure, some calf muscle showed when she walked on high heels (which she always did), but no matter how slim her waist was, there was not a shadow of abdominal muscle to be seen on it and when she sometimes playfully flexed her arms, they remained as slender as you might expect from a super model. Of course, I had tried to hint that I would really love to see her work out, but I’d been afraid to share my secret and she always laughed away my hints, saying I surely wouldn’t want to date a bodybuilder. And she said this in such a way that I could only smile weakly and admit that that was of course ridiculous, though there was nothing I’d rather want.
  So the only thing I could do, was foster my secret and hope that one day I would run into a really strong girl who would take my mind off Shannon. In the meantime, I spent a lot of time roaming the internet, searching for pictures, movie clips and stories of female muscle in action. I was often half fearing and half hoping that Shannon would find out about my obsession and a couple of times I was certain she must have known about it. It all seemed so obvious to me. One of the things Shannon liked best in me was that she never caught me looking at other pretty girls, but that was because she didn’t understand what constituted “pretty” for me. I was constantly on the lookout for signs of a bulging bicep, a diamond shaped calf or a six pack on every woman I met.
   So when my father said that not much would change in six weeks, I had had a different opinion, when I learned that my aunt Cindy had dedicated her life to practicing every sport imaginable.
   Her invitation got me hooked instantly:

“Dear Roberto,
   I look forward to your visit and encourage you to get into the best shape you can before you come here. That way your training will be most effective. I don’t expect you to become as proficient in sports as I am, but hope you will try to nevertheless.”

Unfortunately I had no memory of what my aunt looked like, as she’d been travelling around the world for a long time, partaking in mountain climbing and supposedly some shady tournaments in which few rules applied. My father only had pictures of her as a young girl and I now went through the old photo albums. Even in those early pictures it was already evident that she possessed a striking physique. She was ten years younger than my dad and yet in the last pictures, which must have been taken when she was twelve years old, she was just as tall as him and possibly as wide across the shoulders. She exuded a huge confidence and was dressed quite daringly, with her midriff exposed and shorts that ended well above her knees. Even at that tender age, her abdomen and legs looked extremely well-defined to say the least and I tried to imagine what she must look like now. I also found a letter to my father stuffed into the photo album and it contained the following passage:

“You seem to forget that unlike you, I can do with my life whatever I want. Yes, I’ve risked it by trying to climb K2 without equipment, but I don’t think I need to remind you that I succeeded in this, so your reproach is rather out of place. Still, I don’t blame you for worrying about your little sister and I can understand why you don’t like the fact that I participate in various martial arts.
   However, what I won’t accept from you is the very offensive suspicion that I take forbidden substances to attain and uphold my physique. Every single thing I’ve done, every feat I’ve performed (and there are plenty you don’t yet know about) has been the result of rigorous training and exercising. One day your son will be sent to me and I will impress upon him the full extent of my strength and endurance. Hopefully, he won’t be such a misogynist as you, because if he is, I will make sure he will pay fpr that. I will show him that women can be stronger than men, stronger even than men can imagine.”

I must admit this letter got me more than a little aroused and I couldn’t wait to experience “the full extent of her strength and endurance.” Also, I liked the fact that she didn’t juice because, though I liked muscular women, I also liked them to retain their curves and to me there was nothing sexier than a muscle beast with a cute face. It almost felt bad that I was thinking about my own aunt this way, especially because she was fifteen years older than I, but I figured that a dirty mind was no problem and in fact a joy forever. I leaved through the photo album some more and found a letter addressed to my grandparents, in which the school principal commented on their daughter:

“Cindy appears to have a huge attitude problem which will certainly get her in trouble if she choses to pursue a career in the military, which she seems to aspire to. Not only is she constantly bullying her classmates, both girls and boys, but she tries to rectify this by saying she only beats up other bullies. Needless to say, we do not approve of such a self-righteous idea of justice. Vigilantes only exist in comic books, in which the line between right and wrong can be easily established. Under no circumstances do we condone violence and it is therefore with a heavy heart that I write to inform you that Cindy will be suspended from the school grounds for three days. Needless to say, had your financial generosity not been so vital to the prospering of our school, the punishment would have been more severe. Surely, this punishment will show Cindy that physical force cannot be used in such a way.
   Then there’s also the fact that she’s been threatening a teacher for “staring at her boobs.” I understand that if her teacher had indeed done such a thing, it would be a grievous misconduct but there is no evidence to substantiate her claim. Her then saying that “she would punch him in the abdomen so hard that he would have trouble breathing for weeks,” was of course out of all proportion. I hasten to add that Cindy can be a very sweet girl as well and that she’s a huge asset to our sporting teams, so that we would be very sorry if we would be forced to inflict an even more severe punishment.”

That evening at dinner I decided to inquire a bit more about Cindy.
   “Dad, is aunt Cindy in any way violent?”
   “No, son, why would you ask?” but he played with his food nervously.
   “Well, you told me she’s into martial arts and all that.”
   “Oh, I’m quite sure she won’t try to beat you up.”
   But the smile on his face when he said this looked forced. Suddenly, I felt that meeting up with my superaunt might not be as much fun as I’d so far thought and I wondered how serious she’d been about me being in good shape when I came to visit.
   “I’m sure she wouldn’t hurt her own family of course,” I said nonchalantly, but I watched his face carefully for a reaction.”
   “Look, I don’t know what you’re interrogating me for,” my father now seemed vexed, “but it’s just a visit to your aunt. Nothing more and nothing less.”
   “I know, but it’s just that nobody in this family ever seems to talk about her, which makes me suspect there’s something strange about her, that’s all.”
   “Of course she’s strange: she’s a freak!” my father now shouted.
   “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked
   But my father suddenly looked more interested in his food than in the discussion and that evening in bed, I re-read Cindy’s letter.

“I don’t expect you to become as proficient in sports as I am, but hope you will try to nevertheless.”

No matter how freakish she might be, that was a challenge I was more than willing to take up. After all, she couldn’t be that bad.
   Here I am, I thought just before falling asleep, dreaming about muscular women my whole life and now almost afraid to meet one in the flesh.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Great start, I do love a story where a female is shown to be incredibly athletic, able to do things that are thought impossible or at least very, very hard to do, with ease. Stronger, faster, more endurance than 99.9% of men on the planet, you have my attention, edhellion, I look forward to seeing more! k+!

[Wookey]

Whilst Cindy's physical dominance is obvious, I hope she uses it for good- including training her nephew

[jbeast]

Excellent beginning. Look forward to the next chapter!

[pramitsen2008]

Great start

[Edhellion]

Thank you guys! Here's the next part. Hope you'll enjoy.

My aunt lived in a large villa in the countryside and the road there took me through the mountains of my homeland. My father drove his car silently and I had the idea we had left civilisation behind after the last village we’d travelled through. Then, when we reached a mountaintop, I got my first view of Cindy’s estate. The villa itself looked very big, but what surprised me even more were the grounds around it. They covered a huge area and looked well attended to. The well-tilled fields and large amount of cattle gave me the impression of a farm.
   But though the area must have covered several square miles, I saw no sign of farmers at work. In fact, apart from the cattle I didn’t see a living soul and I wondered where my aunt’s servants were. It was the middle of a beautiful day, but even the large swimming pool looked deserted. At the far end of the villa, I saw an athletics track and there was a basketball court as well as a soccer pitch, complete with goals. This led me to the conclusion that there must be other people around for my aunt to compete with.
   As we approached the gate, I saw a person riding a galloping horse approaching the gate from the other side and when it came closer, I realised this had to be aunt Cindy, as she was absolutely huge. She was tall, probably well over six feet, but that’s not what I meant by huge. She must have been as wide as she was tall and the legs with which she controlled the horse looked absolutely massive.
   As she neared the gate she did something I would not have believed if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. While the horse was still galloping, she stood up on its back (it was only now that I saw she was riding without a saddle) and then somersaulted through the sky and over the gate, landing with a massive “thwomp” and standing absolutely still instantly. I felt like applauding but there was something in her face that warned me not to.
   “You must be Roberto,” she said, extending a large hand that was attached to the biggest forearm I had ever seen. “I am Cindy and as per the arrangement of our family, it is my honour to torture and humiliate you over the coming six weeks.” I was so flabbergasted that I realised only after some seconds that she was being sarcastic, as a smile appeared on her feminine features. It was a smile that could make a man fall in love instantly, I realised.
   “Fortunately you’re not as skinny as your father was at your age, so maybe you’re made of material I can work with. And with that she grabbed my upper arm in one hand and squeezed, as though she were trying to gauge my biceps. Her face didn’t betray her verdict, but she turned to my father and asked: “fancy to come inside and have a cup of coffee or are you still afraid of me?” I saw that something was going on between the siblings and my father didn’t meet her gaze as he answered that he had some other business in the neighbourhood. He then took my bags out of the back of the car, handed them over to me and wished me a good stay before quickly turning around, entering the car and driving off. I was now left alone with my aunt Cindy, who picked up my bags and pointed to the gate: “think you can jump that?” she asked and I thought she must be joking as the gate was over eight feet high. However, this time no smile appeared on her face.
   My suspicion that she wasn’t joking was confirmed when she crouched down with my bags still in her hand, and jumped cleanly over the fence without any run-up. This was quite a feat, especially as she was holding my bags, which must have weighed over sixty pounds, while jumping. She turned around and her face showed no sign of pride, as though this was something she thought everyone could do. “Sorry, I almost forgot that you’re a man and that the male world record for the high jump is only just over eight feet.” She said it very matter-of-factly, as though there was nothing special about her breaking that record casually without a run-up and while carrying my bags. I was in for some spectacular six weeks, I reckoned.
   “Have you ever ridden a horse before?” she asked and I was glad I could answer that I had. She then motioned to me to climb the horse, but I doubted I could climb one that big, especially since it didn’t bear a saddle or any other equipment.
   “Don’t tell me you’ve never ridden a horse bare back,” she scoffed and before I could answer she crouched down beside the horse and motioned for me to step up on her hands. As a kid we had used this trick to scale low walls, but as a kid I had been seventy pounds lighter. However, I didn’t dare to doubt my aunt’s strength and so I stepped up on her hands and she immediately lifted me on top of the horse. As I said, this horse was huge. Its back was so wide that my legs were forced almost into a split and I sat much higher above the ground than I remembered from other horses.
    My aunt was very observant for she remarked: “I see you’re wondering what breed of horse this is. I guess you’ve never seen one of these before as they are a breed of my own. I had some trouble with horses in my younger days. Some of them had backs that couldn’t bear my weight, others weren’t fast enough to keep up with me when I was running and two died because their ribs collapsed under the pressure when I tried to nudge them with my thighs.”
   “Do you mean...” I began, but I faltered, unable to utter the words.
   “That I killed them? Yes I did and I regret it to this day.”
   “You mean you killed a horse with only your thighs?”
   “Yes, but that’s not the point. The poor animals died!” And she looked troubled.
   “I must say I’m really impressed by all those things you’re doing: jumping over high fences, lifting me up effortlessly, not to mention your acrobatics on horseback!”
    “Oh, please, don’t tell me your father raised a misogynist. I shouldn’t be surprised, taking into account the way he looks at women. But yes, I am a woman and, yes, I’m probably also the strongest person you’ll meet in your life. I hope you can accept that, because that will make your stay on my grounds a lot easier.” She didn’t seem to think the feats I had just mentioned were bordering on the superhuman, or maybe she crossed that border like the boys my age reached a new personal best in benching or squatting: simply as something she hadn’t been able to perform so far, but which had never been impossible to achieve for her.
   “I’m far from misogynistic. In fact I admire women who are strong and confident!”
   “Is that so?” she asked and a strange smile appeared on her face. “Do you mean you’re one of those guys who are into femdom?”
   This question coming from my aunt made me feel really awkward. In fact I had never been into femdom. I had a low threshold for pain and I had never been sexually aroused by the thought of a woman inflicting it on me. I knew there were guys who enjoyed being tied up and tortured, but I was definitely not one of them. However, I did not feel like sharing the secret of my muscle fetish with my own aunt and I hoped my body didn’t emit all sorts of tell-tale signs to her. Then again, it might be fine to share my secret with someone someday. Maybe my aunt had all kinds of strong friends with whom she worked out and maybe some of those friends would be closer to my age and no blood relatives of mine. I had already considered several ways in which I could steer a conversation with Cindy in that direction.
   For now aunt Cindy didn’t pursue the matter and instead she asked me to show her my riding skills. Now, I had ridden horses before but I was no expert and I’d certainly never rode bare back. However, I really wanted to impress her and so I dug my heels into the horse’s side to indicate it could move a little faster. This horse, though, appeared to think I meant for it to go into a full gallop and so it began to run.
   Having no reins, I had no idea how to indicate for it to slow down and nothing to hold on to, so that I was soon slipping sideways and off the horse’s back.
   “Careful,” Cindy said though, as she deftly caught me in her arms.
   It was then that I realised she had been running alongside the horse all the time, even though it was in full gallop and even so, she had managed to catch me without breaking stride and it was only after she held me safely in her arms that she slowed down.
   I expected a reprimand or at least a grumpy remark, but instead my aunt Cindy was laughing loudly. “Well, boys will be boys,” she said, “and I should have known you would try to show off.” I wanted to remark that this was a bit rich coming from her, after all the feats she’d performed since I’d met her some minutes before, but I was afraid she might take it as an offence and for several reasons I did not in the least want to offend this woman in any way just yet. “Anyway,” she continued after her laughing had abated, “Hector is an animal with a mind of its own and he doesn’t like to be led around. This was just his way of showing you who was boss. Hector only really obeys people he can respect and you have to earn that respect. It might not surprise you that I’m the only person who has earned it so far and even for me, it took quite some time. You know, horses don’t like to be dominated; they want to be treated as equals. You have to sense the horse’s feelings and not push them where they don’t want to go. Then again, you have to truly be an equal as well and I’m the only one who is on the same level as Hector.”
   It all made perfect sense when she told me, and I knew at that moment that she could teach me a lot in the six weeks I would be staying here. At that time I thought that her hidden message was that she was looking for an equal as well and I almost told her I wanted to be that person for her, but right then she continued: “With humans it’s different. In every human relationship there is a dominant and a submissive person. And before you get any ideas into your head, I refuse to submit to anyone. It’s the reason I dropped out of the military within my first week there. But that’s their loss. I mean, could you imagine what I could have done for our country if only those men had accepted my superiority?”
   I tried to envision Cindy in a soldier’s outfit, and I secretly wondered how she would fare against a tank.
   “Now, I’m stuck here on this estate,” she said rather ruefully, “forbidden by our family traditions to marry a man and constantly pushing myself to become bigger and stronger with no ultimate goal. I’m almost hoping our country will be invaded one day so that I could pit my strength against some worthy opponents.”

[horst11]

Love it. Very cool… hope to see more soon.
K+

[Jeremy Lightning]

Love the idea of her possibly being a one woman army, completely destroying an opposing invading army by herself, including their tanks and planes with her bare hands, or by throwing insanely heavy objects. I look forward to seeing how strong Aunt Cindy really is. k+!

[nickolai]

Aunt Cindy is INCREDIBLE!  This is a great start.  Cannot wait for more.

[Edhellion]

Glad to hear that you enjoy the story and thanks for the karma! Here's part three.

When we came closer to the house, I saw that it looked more like a castle. It consisted of large stone bricks, but it appeared to be a work still in progress. No servants came out to welcome us and as we entered the stables to return Hector, I noticed there were no stable boys at work either. It made me wonder how Aunt Cindy ran this household, where servants were there had to be enough work for several men. I considered the possibility that she might live alone on this huge estate but figured that even for a person as strong as my aunt this would be impossible. The fields covered several square miles and looked very well tended and I had seen on a map that the nearest village was thirty miles away. Cindy could never get enough food to provide for her doubtlessly large appetite without some help.
   “Where are your servants?” I asked. “Just out of curiosity: how many people do you have working for you here? I mean, the place is huge.”
  “Servants? I’ve never wanted those. For one thing, people are born to be free and for another, I firmly believe that if you want to get a job done right, you have to do it yourself. There’s nothing any servant can do that I can’t do better.” She must have seen the doubtful look in my eyes, for she added: “And no, I’m not boasting.”
   She gently led Hector into the stable where I saw several horses who were almost as big but not quite. Cindy then walked over to a pump in the corner and started pumping up water at a freakish pace. Her arms were almost a blur, as she moved them up and down effortlessly, so that in no time she had filled a very large bucket which must contain over a hundred liters. I was no longer even surprised as she then picked up the bucket with one hand and brought it over to Hector, who began to drink enthusiastically. According to the math in my head, a hundred liters of water weighed 100 kg and the bucket itself must weigh as much, meaning my aunt had just carried 450 lbs one-handed without any sign of strain. She must have seen the look of awe in my face, as she said almost apologetically: “What? I curl weights like these as a warmup.” Several times that day already I had felt an erection coming up in my pants, but if Cindy had noticed this, she hadn’t commented upon it yet. I was curious as to her reaction if she were to find out a woman couldn’t be too strong for me.
   “By the way, if you’re thirsty, you can pump up some water yourself. As part of your training, you will have to provide for your own water at all times.” This didn’t sound too hard, so I walked over to the pump she had just handled and started pumping up water. However, it was very awkward to use my hand to pump while simultaneously hanging my head under the resulting stream of water so I looked around for a vessel which could hold the water. Unfortunately, I saw no such thing.
   When Cindy saw me looking, she said there were some kitchen utensils upstairs. I looked up and saw there was a platform up there, but it was at least ten feet above the ground. There was no ladder, though, and I didn’t have my aunt’s strong legs.
   She then took pity on me and jumped up, easily reaching the platform. “I forgot how weak men are,” she said with something that sounded like frustration. “I told you you should have gotten yourself in good shape before coming here, but of course we have very different opinions about what actually constitutes a good shape.” She then grabbed a bowl and threw it down before jumping off the edge of the platform. Now, my aunt was really bulky with all that muscle, but her knees easily took the impact as she hit the ground with a resounding thud.
   What she did next was to have a deeper impact on me, however, as she took off the riding jacket she had been wearing and I got my first good look at her upper body, that was now covered only in a sleeveless shirt. Her shoulders must have been over six feet across and her arms were probably bigger than my chest. Her own chest was simply gigantic, but it tapered down to a waist that was in fact quite narrow. I now got a better look at her abs as well and there were deep crevices between the muscles. Her legs were so thick that they pushed each other a bit sideways, and her calf muscles were clearly visible from the front.
   “Now I think we can agree,” she said while casually flexing her arms, pecs and lats in that order, “that I am in a very good shape and that you,” she poked my chest with her index finger which actually hurt, “are most definitely not. That means you have a lot of training to do, instead of gawking at my muscles. That’s right, I’ve seen you ogling my body whenever you thought I wasn’t watching and the ogling was certainly not in disgust or in fear. I guess I’ve discovered that you like your women to be muscular, but let me tell you: a woman with real muscles would never fall for a weakling such as you are at this moment. Just look at you. Your chest must be smaller than my arms.” I got the distinct feeling she was making fun of me.
   “You’re lucky that I will make it my mission to make you a real man, but since we only have six weeks, you must be ready to work extremely hard. You have to dedicate every single minute of every day to your body. That means that when you’re not eating or sleeping, you find some way to train yourself. At first, I will come up with exercises for you but since you’re not a baby I expect you to put in some effort yourself as well. For one thing, it’s very important that you abstain from jerking off. No sneaking away to the toilet or silently pleasuring yourself in your bedroom. I have seen the effect my body has on you, but let me tell you: sexual activity is a waste of energy when it comes to building a good body. I’m saying this because I’ve seen your little friend rising to attention whenever you watch my muscles, including now,” she said and I felt myself turning beet red when I realised how my dick was trying to poke its way out of my trousers at that moment. “Because, charming as the idea might be that you find me attractive, I am still your aunt for fuck’s sake.”
   I was so ashamed that I had no idea how to reply to this. I walked over to the pump, filled the bowl with water and drank it, all the while trying to think of ways to get rid of my hard-on, which was kind of hard while this woman with a body that should be possible only in cartoons or dreams was standing next to me. After I had soothed my parched throat I asked my aunt what the next part of my training would be.
   “Well, you’ll need some muscle on those skinny legs of yours. We’re about five miles away from the house now and I want you to run there as fast as you can. Thing is, it’ll be dark in an hour and you don’t want to know what kind of beasties roam in the forests around here. Now, even someone relatively untrained should be able to run five miles in an hour, but as I told you, I want you to grow some muscle on those legs.”
   She then picked up a backpack and handed it over to me. It was moderately heavy, but she said running does not in itself build muscle, but that running while carrying a weight will. “This backpack weighs thirty pounds so it shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.”
   I was quite happy with this assignment, as running was my speciality when it came to working out and thirty pounds wouldn’t prevent me from easily running eight miles an hour. As we got out of the stable, though, my optimism plummeted. The terrain between the stables and the house was quite hilly and there was even a wide stream flowing through it.
   On the other hand, I was quite sure that Cindy would only laugh at me if I were to call her task impossible and, anyway, I didn’t want to disappoint her. “I’ll go my own pace now, so that I can prepare dinner before you arrive,” she said and with that, she ran off at a speed I figured only Usain Bolt could have rivalled, and only for a couple of hundred meters at that. I watched her huge glutes pumping as she ran and her diamond-sized calves contracting and lengthening with every huge step she took. And when I say huge steps, I mean that every step was more like a jump. I swear she easily leapt six yards with every step she took and I almost expected the ground to shake every time she landed, but it all looked very elegant, not at all like a rhinoceros trampling across the fields.
   With that speed, I quickly lost sight of her and I started my own run. I had clearly underestimated how hard running with a backpack was, not because of its weight, but because it felt very awkward and bounced painfully on my shoulders with every step I took. Giving up was not an option, though, even if I hadn’t really believed Cindy about the beasties.
  After three miles, though, I loudly cursed my aunt.
   That was even before I reached the first hill. All this time, I saw the tracks of Cindy on the ground and I realised that it took me at least three steps to cover one of hers. What’s more, as I was climbing the hill, my steps became shorter (as anyone who’s ever climbed a hill will understand). My aunt Cindy’s weren’t in the least however and in my head I saw a picture of her taking these huge strides, almost as if she were jumping up the hill. I was panting and sweating heavily when I reached the top, only to find that there was another hill waiting for me on the other side and in the valley between, there was the stream which I had almost forgotten about. It didn’t look to be very deep and there were also rocks breaking from its surface. I tried to find out a way that would get me across without actually becoming wet, as the temperature was quite chilly. I jumped from rock to rock with what I considered to be quite some agility and what’s more, I reached the other side without my feet even touching the water.
   I was really proud of myself and wished aunt Cindy had been there to see this feat of mine.
   Then again, she had probably simply leaped across the stream, even though it was some twenty feet wide. By now, dusk began to fall and I was getting really tired and hungry. I hoped Cindy would prove to be a good cook and wondered what kind of food it took to sustain a body as big and strong as hers. The thought of not disappointing her was the thing that kept me going and I began to think that all her training might prove easier than I thought and that I could really benefit from it.
   When the house finally came into view, I could smell the pleasant smell of roast meat.
   My aunt was waiting outside, with an apron on and the sight somehow looked ridiculous. The apron was probably as big as a small tent and yet it barely covered her broad chest. I was surprised to find that she had a glass of wine in her hand, as I’d thought she’d be one of those people who thought that alcohol didn’t fit into a healthy diet. I later found out that she had a basement full of barrels of beer, wine and whiskey and that my aunt really liked to imbibe quite heavily, but no matter how much she drank, to this day I’ve never seen her drunk. She also turned out to be quite a good cook and I was presented a nice plate full of delicious food. Cindy herself had a much bigger plate and on it lay a whole heap of meat, rice and vegetables. “Bon appetit,” she said, as we shared our first meal.

[Wookey]

Let's hope he can show some muscle growth over the 6 weeks.  Maybe he will extend stay to 6 months to improve even further

[Jeremy Lightning]

Another really good continuation, again, really enjoy Aunt Cindy showing off, while probably not even barely trying, she most likely could run a mile in well under a minute if her running ability is anything to go off of. I also like that she has no servants, despite having a huge house, everything that needs to be done, she will do herself, perfectly. I wouldn't mind watching her do it, either, like lifting a couch overhead with one hand while vacuuming under it, crushing a ruined appliance to scrap metal with her bare hands, leaping up to the ceiling to hang a chandelier. I look forward to more! k+!

[Edhellion]

Chapter 4

If I had thought our day was over after dinner, I would have been in for a surprise, as aunt Cindy announced she would now do her evening workout. She took me down to the basement of the house, which had been turned into an enormous gym. It was easily as big as a soccer field and filled with all kinds of machines, both for cardio and for building strength and to the left, the entire wall, which was well over a hundred yards long, was lined with dumbbells in all shapes and sizes, though none looked to be lighter than 20 pounds. Farther back along the wall were the heavier weights and these went up to 1,000 lbs. Then there were the plates for barbells, bench pressing and squatting and these went all the way up to 5,000 pounds. As these latter lay on the ground, they came up to my chin and at 5’10” I’m not a small boy. I was looking forward to watching my aunt work out and I was not disappointed. I hoped she didn’t expect me to work out myself so soon after my dinner.
   I was so awestruck by the size of the gym that I hadn’t noticed Cindy had gone into a dressing room, from which she now emerged in spandex so tight it looked like it had been body-painted. It covered her only gigantic chest and her butt an upper legs, so that I could marvel at the way her muscles danced as she walked towards the ends of the hallway, where the heavy dumbbells lay and picked up a pair of 250-pounders. Before she had picked them up they had looked ridiculously large, but now that she had them in her hands, I could see that they were in fact a lot smaller than her biceps, especially when she started curling the weights. Now I had seen some videoclips of both men and women curling huge weights, but I always felt they had bad form, using their entire upper body while curling. Aunt Cindy, on the other hand, kept her arms straight along her body and her shoulders and elbows kept absolutely still. A single vein appeared on each bicep, but that was the only sign that she was putting in effort.
   “You look kind of silly, gaping like that,” she laughed.
   I quickly closed my mouth and walked over to the lighter dumbbells, picking up two twenty-pound weights. I remembered how my aunt had told me to show initiative and thought that curling these weights myself might make her proud. Of course this was ridiculous when taking into account that she was curling twelve and a half times that weight, but I knew that it was no use comparing myself to her. As I started curling, she actually gave me an approving look, but this quickly disappeared from her face after three reps. “You call that curling?” she scoffed. “I call that jerking around with your body to try and bring up a weight that you’re holding in your hands.” I realised this was an apt description of what it must look like, as I used not only my biceps, but also my shoulder muscles, my abs and even my glutes, to bring up the weights. At that moment I felt like such a loser.
   “Anyway, the key to a good workout is to not try to impress yourself or someone else by showing off how much you can lift. Instead you could compare it to a test in school, where the result will be determined by how well you answer the questions, not by showing off how much useless information you know about the subject. If you want results, you should really isolate the muscle you want to enhance. Now I saw you watching me just now, so you can probably see what I mean. You will also agree that my way of working out is quite successful, or have you ever seen anyone either as strong or as muscular as me?” I tried to fumble out an answer, but she didn’t seem interested in it because she now walked over to the 300 pound dumbbells and picked them up just as easily as she had done with the 250s. I now realised that she hadn’t broken a single drop of sweat as far as I could see.
   I tried curling with the same dedication to form as my aunt had but found that the 20 pounds were too heavy for me that way. I was ashamed and not a little afraid of what this would mean for my training in the coming six weeks.
   Instead, I lay down on a bench and started pressing the dumbbells. I decided to do a set of ten and paid particular attention to form, hoping aunt Cindy would not comment. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Cindy herself was still cranking out rep after rep with the 300 pounders and after I’d finished my ten reps, she was still going strong. She wasn’t slowing down either and was it my imagination or were her biceps really noticeably bigger than before she started curling? It also made me wonder what her max would be and whether this was just a regular workout or a way to impress me. If so, she was definitely succeeding. After curling for some time, she stopped and re-racked the dumbbells, though I couldn’t see any particular reason for why she stopped. There was still no sweat and she wasn’t even breathing heavily. She then picked up two 400 pound weights and threw one of them into the air, making it twirl a bit, before catching it and starting to curl again.
   This time I counted and so I found out that she did a hundred reps. By now, her biceps looked really bloated and there was a slight sheen of sweat on them, which in a way made them even sexier. I turned away from my aunt, pretending to be taking a look at the bench on which I’d just performed my chest presses, but only so that she could not see my giant hard-on. How was I gonna go six weeks without masturbating with her continually showing off?
   “Oh, by the way, if you want to go to sleep, just say so. I won’t finish this workout before three in the morning and we need to get up early to milk the cows and do other farming chores. I expect you might become quite bored by simply watching me workout.” I was indeed becoming rather tired, though certainly not bored by watching her huge muscles in action. After the curls, came the bench presses and the calf raises.
   Simply mentioning the weights she was using for these exercises does not do her justice. True, she pressed two 900 pound dumbbells and used an entire squat rack loaded with 1200 lbs for the calf raises (she told me the weight totalled two thousand pounds and I had no reason to suspect she was exaggerating). But it was the combination of ease and eagerness with which she performed these exercises that made it even more impressive.

[nickolai]

Loving this!

[Edhellion]

It's been a week but here's the next part:

The following morning I woke up to the sound of mooing cows and it took me a moment to realise where I was. I walked over to my window and opened the curtains and outside I saw my aunt Cindy herding the cows towards the place where they would be milked. She took huge steps and whenever a cow moved in the wrong direction, she simply lifted its forefeet of the ground and faced it the other way. She must have done this many times, as the cows were very obedient and knew exactly what was expected of them.
   Then I saw that she did not use a machine to milk the cows, but used her hands instead. She was very deft at it and in no time she had filled a bucket.
   She then walked this bucket over to a large tank that was standing just outside the stall and emptied it, only to return and repeat this process several times. I reckon she must have gotten over a hundred gallons of milk during the five minutes I was observing her.
   She must have been aware of my watching her, though, because at one point, she simply looked straight up at me and motioned for me to come downstairs.
   “Howdy cowboy,” she said as I walked over to her and she had put a cowboy hat on her own head which made her look like an extremely muscular cowgirl. She was wearing a pair of torn jean shorts, which did little to hide her upper legs and her lower legs were covered by some sturdy boots which barely contained her huge calf muscles.
   “Have you ever milked a cow before?” she asked.
   I said that I hadn’t and she motioned me over to one of the cows that had not been milked yet, judging by its large udders. She made me watch the movement and then urged me to try it myself. At first I felt really awkward and was afraid the cow might kick me with its hind legs, but I soon found that the cow actually enjoyed being relieved. I must say it was a lot harder on my hands than I thought and after some cows, I felt a cramp coming up in my fingers.
   “Not bad,” aunt Cindy complimented me. “Now, when you’ve filled that bucket, you can take it to the tank over there.” And she pointed at the tank I’d already seen. I wondered how many gallons would fit into it and how many buckets that would mean. The tank was absolutely huge: well over thirty feet high and with a diameter of some ten feet. As I picked up the full bucket, I realised that it was too heavy for me.
   Cindy saw this and said that I should drink of the raw milk. “In fact, it can be dangerous to drink raw milk, but my cows are a hundred percent natural. If you don’t mind, I will drink some of it myself. I’ve been up for two hours already and I’ve only had my breakfast so far.” She then lifted the heavy bucket to her lips and drank from it.
    She spilled some of the milk, though I suspected she was doing so on purpose, because it ran down in the valley between her pecs and into her cleavage. It was the first time I had paid real attention to her boobs (she was my aunt after all), and they were round and firm, so that I wondered whether she had had them surgically enhanced. I reckoned the cleft between her pecs was at least a foot deep and her boobs protruded another foot from those pecs, so that her chest must have measured several feet. It made me wonder whether she would ever let me measure her. I also began to suspect that the little workout she’d shown me the evening before had not been a challenge for her at all. I mean, the weights she’d lifted were impressive, but she looked so much stronger than anyone I’d ever met that I thought she might only have been teasing.
   I became certain of this after the milking had been done, for as she emptied the last of the buckets in the tank, she squatted down on her haunches (and, boy, did her legs and glutes look powerful at that moment), and it turned out that there were two handles close to the ground, quite far apart, which she grabbed with both her hands and then she simply stood up, lifting the entire tank off the ground, which must have weighed close to a ton. What was even more amazing was that she had a very awkward grip on it, as she had to balance it in front of her and yet she started walking towards a nearby shed as though there was nothing special about this. All I could do was follow her and express my admiration, but she said that she had been training all her life, so that of course she was stronger than anyone else she’d ever met. She said it very matter-of-factly, like stating that the sun rose every morning and set every night. She put down the tank very gently, squatting down on her haunches again and I wondered how the jeans could contain those huge muscles cording her upper legs like steel cables. I figured that the shorts must not be ordinary jeans. They had to be much sturdier.
   “Geez, aunt,” I managed to say rather coolly (or so I thought). “Are you the strongest person in the world or something?”
   “I guess so,” she said as though the question hardly interested her.
   “I wanted to compete in the Olympics when I was younger,” she said, “but they had all these rules and regulations about athletes having to be a certain age in respect to child labour and all that. I broke several qualification limits when I was six years old, including the ones for every athletic event and weightlifting. The year after that I had improved my own records, but the IOC were still adamant in refusing me. After that, there was little use for me in competing and besides, I was no longer interested. For one thing, I wouldn’t have met any competition and for another, I wasn’t willing to play by their rules anymore. Or anyone’s rules for that matter. I ran away from home when I was ten years old and lived in the Himalayas for a year. Back then I was intent on finding out whether the Yeti’s really existed and whether they might be more in my league physically. Turned out they did exist, and I lived with them for that year. They taught me to hunt and how to use my muscles more effectively. You know, I already possessed more raw power than anyone else, but the Yeti’s would sometimes beat me in wrestling matches. Of course, they were eight feet tall and I was only five feet at the time.”
   “Wow, auntie,” I brought out. “But why are you living out here, on this estate, all on your own? You could become a great sportswoman and you can prove that the Yeti’s exist. I mean, you could make millions or become a successful influencer, but instead you live here, performing your miracles without any audience. Don’t you want to be more famous? You could even get any man you want.”
   “Well, Roberto, you know the rules of our family don’t you?”
   I knew them but had never understood them. The oldest male in line would inherit the title of Baron of a backward region in a backward country, while the women gained nothing but unlimited time to become proficient in a field of their choice.
   “But you could simply claim the title of Baroness. No one would be able to stop you!”
   “And then what? I would be a Baroness and I would have to perform all kinds of useless ceremonies. No, I like to work out and become ever stronger.”
   At that time, I could hardly understand what drove her into such a subservient role, but I later found out that upon her own estate, aunt Cindy had unlimited freedom to do whatever she wanted and all she wanted was to become ever stronger.