Forum Saradas
Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction => Muscular Women Fiction => Topic started by: grbaclig on September 27, 2019, 01:52:06 am
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Disclaimer: The following is a work of satire intended for mature persons only, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental or is intended purely as a satire, parody or spoof of such persons and is not intended to communicate any true or factual information about that person.
Part 1, Chapter 1
As my parents hurriedly went about their last minute packing, I looked out the windows into the rain, waiting for the headlights of Allison's car to appear in the darkness. “Rick,” my mom called. “Since we're going to be gone until next Sunday, I made a ton of leftovers and put them in the freezer.”
“Thanks mom,” I said absentmindedly.
The only thing I was hungry for was Allison. She was only a sophomore, but she was the hottest girl at Fairlawn High School. She had the prettiest face, the biggest boobs, and the roundest butt. And as if that wasn't enough, she loved to make out. We made out in my car at lunch, under the bleachers during assemblies, and in the park after school. On Wednesday I told her that my parents were going away to the lake for the weekend, and she grabbed my crotch right there in the hallway and leaned in close. “Good,” she purred as a hard-on started to grow in my jeans. “We need a chance to get to know each other a little more intimately, if you know what I mean.”
Now it was Friday night, and I've had a chubby for three days now, my dick still tingling from where she grabbed me. Every time I closed my eyes I could hear the word 'intimately' fluttering out of her mouth, scented by her cherry chapstick. My heart jumped for joy when I saw the headlights of Allison's car turning into the driveway. I had the hottest girl in school all to myself for an entire weekend. I didn't have to worry about mom and dad, and best of all I didn't have to worry about my bratty 12 year old sister Kylie, who was still at camp for another week.
When the doorbell rang, I practically knocked mom and dad over to get to the front door. Allison's green eyes twinkled with mischief, her shining red hair was up in a ponytail, and her killer body was obvious even underneath the heavy raincoat she was wearing. My parents rushed to the door to meet her. “Hi Mr. and Mrs. O'Reilly,” Allison said, using the 'good girl' voice she used with teachers. “It's nice to meet you. I hope the rain doesn't ruin your weekend at the lake.”
“It's all clear once you get past Columbia, and it's supposed to be beautiful tomorrow” dad said.
Nice to meet you, too, Allison,” mom said. “Let me take your coat so you can dry off.”
“Actually I'd like to keep it on if you don't mind,” Allison said. “I'm freezing.”
“Suit yourself,” mom said as she and dad went upstairs to finish their last minute packing.
I showed Allison around the downstairs, and the second we were alone in the living room, she grabbed my shirt, balling up fistfuls of fabric in her hands, and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. “I'm going to fuck your brains out, big boy,” she whispered. “You have no idea what's in store for you.”
I had never had girl talk to me like that before, and I froze up. “Oh yeah?” I said, fumbling.
“Yeah,” Allison said, kissing me again. “You're not going to be able to walk right for a week.”
“Oh yeah?” I said, my brain still grasping for something to say.
There was a loud bang at the top of the stairs as dad and mom started to bring their luggage out. We pulled apart quickly, there was a second of awkward silence, and then Allison laughed. “You're such a dork,” she giggled. “I have no idea what I see in you.”
“It must be my swagger,” I said as she began to look at the family photos on the mantle.
“No, you don't have any swagger,” Allison said with a smile as she picked up a family portrait from 6 years ago. “Now she has swagger,” Allison said, pointing to Kylie.
It was hard to argue with her. Even at 6 years old, Kylie's cocky smirk, proud body language, and icy stare exuded confidence. Age 6 was when she started to act out, playing pranks and hurling insults in school and in church. She got in trouble sometimes, but mom and dad never stopped treating her like a princess. “She was such a nuisance back then” I said.
Allison went to the next photo, one taken 4 years ago, and started laughing. “Your hair is totally hot in this photo, but that shirt is the worst,” Allison said, but then she stooped laughing as her eyes drifted to Kylie again. “Wow your little sister looks beautiful,” she said. “She matured fast.”
It was hard to argue with her. At 8 years old, Kylie was bigger, smarter and prettier than the other girls in her class. And she knew exactly how to use those advantages to get what she wanted, which was mostly to make other kids cry. In a couple of short years Kylie had gone from being a nuisance to being a brat. She got called to the principal's office a few times, but because she was always on the honor roll, and always won spelling bees and science fairs, she never got in trouble. “She never matured,” I mumbled. “She's still a brat, just like she was back then.”
Allison went to the next photo, one taken 2 years ago, here eyes were on me for a second before they drifted to Kylie. “OMG,” she exclaimed. “Your little sister has awesome muscles.”
It was hard to argue with her. At 10 years old, Kylie had round muscle-packed shoulders and thick bulging biceps, which were on display in the photo thanks to the yellow sundress she wore. Age 10 was when she fell in love with athletic competition, and soon she was playing every sport in town, both school sponsored and intramural. She could get straight A's without studying, so threw all of her brainpower and willpower into athletics, and her body responded by packing on more muscle in 6 months than most girls did in their entire lives. She was stronger and faster than any grade school kid in the state, girl or boy, and she made sure that all the kids in school knew it. In a couple of short years Kylie had gone from being a brat to being a bully. Mom and dad got calls from other parents, but because Kylie was the best athlete on every team she was a part of, and always won competitions and set records, she never got in trouble. “Those muscles made her look like a boy,” I grumbled.
Allison went to the next photo, one taken last year, and this time she didn't even look at me. “Holy crap Rick,” Allison exclaimed, eyeing Kylie who was wearing a red sleeveless blouse in the photo. “Your sister is jacked! She must have seen your muscles and tried to keep up with you.”
This time Allison was wrong. I had never touched a set of weights in my life until Kylie had started bullying me, too. Age 11 was when she combined her three great loves: being mean, being dominant, and being strong. Soon she was feared by every middle school kid in town, but that wasn't enough for her. She wanted me to be afraid of her, too. It started innocently enough. She would challenge me to armwrestling or pull-up contests, letting me come close to winning before coming back at the last second to dominate me, and humiliate me. Then the beatings started. First it was just wrestling holds and body blows that made me sore, but soon she started giving me split lips and black eyes. I started lifting weights and taking judo lessons, so I would have an excuse for being sore and injured. And maybe, I hoped, to help me defend myself. My hopes were in vain. Kylie was strong as an ox and agile as a hummingbird, and I never stood a chance. In a couple of short years Kylie had gone from being a bully to being a terror, in school and at home. Mom and dad almost got taken to court a few times, but Kylie won every academic and athletic honor possible, and colleges were lining up to offer her scholarships before she was even old enough to drive, so everyone in town let her do whatever she wanted.
Then, last year, I hit puberty with a vengeance. I went through a growth spurt and started to bulk up. The weightlifting and judo started to click into place. Kylie still beat me at everything, but her victories were getting harder and harder to come by. Finally, a few months ago, she stopped picking on me so she could focus on easier targets at school. I felt a great sense of relief to know that I was no longer being bullied by my little sister, but every so often Kylie would shoot a hateful glance at me that made my blood run cold, and I worried that the worst was still to come. I took the photo from Allison and put it back on the mantle. “Hey are you here for me or my sister?” I asked with a wink.
“Well, I've been with lots of girls,” Allison said with a smile, “but normally they're in college.”
I couldn't even try to act cool now. “That's so hot,” I blurted out.
“It's even hotter than you're imagining,” Allison purred, placing her hand on my junk. “But if you play your cards right, you might just get to experience it first hand. Would you like that?”
“Oh God yes,” I mumbled, paralyzed with lust.
Then the sound of luggage hitting the floor at the bottom of the stairs made us snap out of our flirtatious embrace. I concealed my chubby as mom and dad walked into the living room.
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Love your stories man. Can’t wait to see what kind of muscle stud Kylie has become and what she does to both of them. Def hope she’s got huge pecs and arms!!
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wow, a great start!!! I love it!!!
go on...
K for you
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I know I'm excited!
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Part 1, Chapter 2
While mom and dad were fussing with their luggage, Allison wandered behind them so that they couldn't see her. Then, with a dirty smile, Allison opened her coat to reveal the hottest body I had ever seen, wrapped in a red slingshot bikini. Her creamy skin glowed with sexual energy, barely covered by the narrow red straps of the scandalous swimsuit that exposed her long legs, full hips, tight tummy, and big round tits. She was hot I nearly fainted right there.
“You two don't leave a mess,” Dad said as he stood up and turned around.
In a flash, Allison had closed her coat and pretended to be examining the dining room. “This is lovely china,” she said. “And I especially like the tea cups.”
Then all of a sudden the floor began to reverberate with the rhythm of a jackhammered bass line, and the air began to hum with the muffled sound of heavy metal drifting up from the basement. “Oh one more thing, Rick,” mom said. Your sister got home from camp a week early. I'm sure she'll spend all her time in basement and in the fridge, but be sure you check on her at least once.”
My heart sank to my shoes. “What do you mean Kylie is home early?” I asked.
Dad shrugged. “The camp van dropped her off this afternoon while you were at school,” he said. “We were in such a hurry to get packed we didn't get around to telling you.”
This was the worst news possible. Kylie and I had an uneasy truce for the past few months, but now, with mom and dad away, I was sure she'd find a way to ruin my weekend. As the door closed behind mom and dad, I looked into the kitchen and glanced nervously at the door that led to the basement. I could see it vibrate slightly from the music that Kylie had blaring down there.
Then I felt a delicate hand on my jawline, and Allison turned my face toward her. It had been about a second since my parents had left, but she already shed her overcoat, and she stood in her red slingshot bikini, her hips cocked, twirling her hair with her free hand. “Why are you looking at the kitchen?” she asked with a smile. There's nothing in there that's as hot, juicy, or delicious as me.”
“Oh yeah?” I stammered.
Once again, that was all I could manage to say. I had never been with a girl as beautiful or as sexually aggressive as Allison. I couldn't stop staring at her, and I couldn't find anything to say. She didn't seem to mind. “You keep asking 'oh yeah?',” she said with a giggle as she began to gently rub her crotch. “What does that mean? Does that mean that you want to fuck me?”
“Yes,” I gulped as Allison took my right hand and put in on her left breast.
“I thought so,” she laughed. “After all, pretty much everybody that lays eyes on me wants to fuck me. But I chose you. Doesn't that make you feel lucky?”
“Yes,” I gulped as Allison took my left hand and put in on her right breast.
I tried not to shake too much, but I had only really had sex two or three times, and it was pretty obvious that Allison was at a different level. Not only that, her tits were so big I could barely get my hands around them. I wanted to squeeze and jiggle them, but I didn't want to seem too eager, so I just stroked them. I guess that was the right thing to do, because when my thumbs rubbed across her nipples, they tugged just a bit on the fabric of her swimsuit and she moaned a little. “Do that again,” she purred as she grabbed my butt and pulled me close. “My nipples are very sensitive to touch.”
I stroked her again, but I guess I did it wrong. “No, like you did the first time,” she said sourly.
As I tried to replicate the sensation that made Allison moan, she pulled me in for a kiss. I tried to slip her the tongue, but she backed away. “Too much tongue,” she spat. “Let's try that again.”
Then I heard a laugh from the direction of the kitchen, and I froze. Standing next to the refrigerator was my 12 year old sister Kylie, in white tennis shoes with her blonde hair up in a ponytail, sweat beading on her tanned face, and a towel in one hand. She was wearing a pink sweatsuit with white printing that read 'Silly boy, weights are for girls'. Kylie was normally stone-faced and serious, but tonight she had a little smirk on her face. “How long have you been there?” I asked.
“Long enough to see that you don't know what you're doing,” Kylie laughed.
I turned my body, trying to conceal my hard on. I didn't want my little sister thinking Allison and I having sex. Allison didn't seem to care. She turned toward Kylie and waved as if she wasn't falling out of a tiny slingshot bikini. “Hi there,” she said. “My name's Allison. You must be Kylie.”
“I'm going to call you Tits McGee instead,” Kylie said coldly as she opened the refrigerator. “At least until you put on some clothes. Or until you dump my dork brother, and I don't have to see your boobs bouncing around. But don't stop making out on my account. I just came up for some protein.”
“Is there like a gym down there or something?” Allison asked, unfazed by Kylie's rudeness.
“Yes,” Kylie said. “It's my private weight room. And by private, I mean 'stay out or else'.”
“So, are you working out down there or something?” Allison asked.
Kylie looked at the protein shake in her right hand, the towel in her left hand, then down at the logo on her sweatshirt, and then at the basement door. “I hope you're not spending too much time on your valedictory speech,” she said to Allison. “Because I have some bad news for you.”
I flushed with anger at the insult, but Allison was still smiling as she tried to engage Kylie in conversation. “Rick and I were checking out the family photos in the living room earlier,” she said. “You looked awesome in that red blouse. Do you still have muscles like that?”
“Muscles like I had last year?” Kylie asked, closing the refrigerator. “No. Not anymore.”
Allison's face fell, almost as if she was saddened by Kylie's answer. “Why not?” she asked. “What happened to your muscles?”
Kylie shook her protein shake as Allison waited for her answer. “They got bigger,” Kylie finally said, opening the bottle. “I don't have muscles like that anymore because my muscles got bigger.”
Allison's smile returned as Kylie drank her protein shake in one gulp and turned toward the basement door. As she walked, she crushed the plastic bottle in her hand and threw it backwards over her shoulder. The bottle flew through the air in an arc and landed perfectly in the recycling bin. I had seen Kylie do that dozens of times, but Allison was obviously impressed.
It was weird to see my girlfriend so impressed with my little sister, but I took a deep breath and counted Kylie's steps as she headed back to the basement. Soon she would be back in the basement, with the door locked, and Allison and I would be alone. But just before Kylie took the first step downstairs, Allison called out to her. “Hey Kylie,” she said. “Can I see your muscles?”
Kylie stopped and turned around. She leaned against the doorpost, her face calm and expressionless as always. “Why do you want to see my muscles?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Allison said, turning her toes inward, almost as if she were nervous. “I just think it's cool that a girl your age has muscles as big as a boy.”
“There aren't any boys as big as me,” Kylie scoffed. “My muscles are the biggest.”
Allison blushed, although I couldn't understand why. Allison was aggressive and confident with me, so why did Kylie made her titter like a nervous schoolgirl? “So can I see them?” Allison asked.
“No,” Kylie said.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but to my horror, Kylie didn't go down into the basement. She continued to lean against the wall, her icy gaze fixed on us. “Why not?” Allison asked.
“Because you couldn't handle it,” Kylie said. “You'd freak out.”
I wanted to derail the conversation, but Allison responded immediately. “Hey, you get to see all my assets in this bikini,” Allison said. “Just show me your muscles, and I promise I won't freak out.”
Kylie rolled her eyes and sighed. “I'll tell you what,” she said, walking toward the kitchen table. “If either one of you can beat me at armwrestling, I'll show you my muscles.”
With that, Kylie slid the kitchen table and propped both her arms up at the elbow. “Come on Rick,” Allison whispered as she rubbed my butt. “I just want to see her flex like once or twice. Then I'll so something super special for you. Just promise me that you won't let her win. Promise.”
That was a promise I wasn't sure I could keep. I had never beaten Kylie at anything. She was 4'11” and weighed less than 100 pounds, but over the past two years she had proven time and time again that she could bend me in half like a daisy stem or throw me around like a rag doll whenever she wanted to. And although I was kind of used to losing to her when I was alone, I hated to think about being humiliated in front of the hottest girl in school. Then Allison's hand snuck between my legs and began juggling my balls, and lust overtook my brain. “I promise,” I blurted out, unable to stop myself.
There was no backing out now.
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Great reading your new story! Kylie is a lovely terror so far!
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Part 1, Chapter 3
I followed Allison to the table, a table at which Kylie had beaten me at armwrestling dozens of times over the past few couple of years. I told myself that this time would be different. My lifts had been going up steadily for the past few months, without beatings from Kylie to limit my flexibility and recovery. I was twice as strong as I was the last time we arm-wrestled, when she taunted me by letting me win for a second before slamming my arm down. Now, I was one of the strongest guys in my high school, and Kylie was just a girl in middle school.
I reminded myself of those things as I sat down. I felt confident as I took Kylie's girly hand in mine. It felt small, and I felt strong. After a second of silence, Kylie counted down. “3, 2, 1,” she said.
Allison pulled as hard as she could, but she couldn't budge my little sister's arm, despite the fact that she was several years older than Kylie, and despite the fact that she had surprising definition in her shoulders and arms that sprang to life as she strained.
I was faring better. Much better. Kylie was really strong, stronger than any 12 year old girl should be. She was also stronger than the last time we armwrestled, but so was I. Her arm trembled as I slowly forced it down toward the table. I was ecstatic. “You've gotten a lot stronger,” Kylie said.
“I remember when you were 11,” I crowed as Kylie's hand neared the table. “You would let me think I was going to win, then beat me at the last second. This time it's going to be different.”
“No it isn't,” Kylie said casually as her arm suddenly froze in place, her hand a mere centimeter from touching the table. “It's never going to be different. I'll always be stronger. I'll always win.”
I leaned into Kylie with all my might, sweat dripping down my face as I tried to force her hand down just one more centimeter. But there was no give at all. It was as if I was trying to armwrestle a bronze statue. Kylie let me struggle against her for another second or so before forcing my arm all the way back up, and then all the way down with one smooth motion. Once again, she had lured me into thinking I could beat her, only to crush me at the last possible second. I burned with embarrassment.
I can't believe that Kylie had humiliated me in front of my new girlfriend. That was lousy even by her standards. I wanted to slink away and hide, but I couldn't even stand up because Kylie wouldn't let go. Her grip was horrifyingly powerful as she kept my arm pinned to the table, and her forearm felt as big as a fire hydrant as it rested on mine. “Just think,” she said, “you spent all that time lifting weights just so you could stand up to me, and I can still crush you like a bug. Besides, you know how I angry I get when people try to stand up to me.” Kylie leaned close, fixing me with her withering gaze. “You shouldn't make me angry, Rick,” she said. “When I get angry, it's like a bomb goes off inside me, and I go next level. I go next level in ways you can't even imagine.”
I couldn't meet Kylie's gaze. I shrank from her like a frightened animal, the memory of months of beatings still fresh in my mind. While I cowered, Kylie turned her attention to Allison. She forced Allison's arm inevitably downward, but oddly enough, not as quickly or as easily as mine. “Guess what, Rick?” Kylie asked, releasing our hands as she stood up from the table. “Tits McGee is stronger than you. She's too hot for you and too strong for you. You're going to lose her.”
A second later the basement door slammed shut, locking with a click, and the sound of heavy metal started to pump through the house. Allison immediately punched me in the shoulder. It hurt a lot more than I expected. “What the hell, Rick,” she said. “You promised that you would beat her.”
“I don't know what happened,” I said, frantically looking for an excuse. “I guess I was preoccupied with the gorgeous sexpot that I tricked into spending the weekend with me.”
I don't know where that line came from, but it must have been good, because Allison was all over me. She took my head in her hands and pushed her tongue into my mouth, and a few seconds later I was on my back in my bed, staring up at her mesmerizing beauty. My eyes drifted over each part of her perfect body, from her red-painted toenails to her shining hair. “Do you like what you see?” she asked with a low, smoky voice as she reached behind her neck and unhooked her bikini.
“Even your collarbones are sexy,” I mumbled.
“I haven't heard that one before,” she said as she pulled her bikini off, sitting proudly with her hands on her hips and her huge, round breasts pointed outward. “Mostly guys just talk about these.”
I got hard as a rock instantly. “Sweet Jesus,” I gulped. “They're amazing.”
Allison laughed as she lowered herself onto my penis, and began to rock back and forth. That night I lost track of time as Allison made good on her promise to fuck my brains out. Her body moved in ways I didn't know a body could move, she bent me in ways I didn't know I could bend, and I felt pleasure that I couldn't have imagined before. When she finally collapsed on top of me, dripping with sweat, it was almost a relief. “So how was that?” she asked. “Was I everything you hoped for?”
“I love you,” I blurted out.
Allison's mouth puckered and her brow furrowed. “Ooh. That might be a problem,” she said as she stretched out next to me. “For now let's just be fuck buddies. And let's not use the 'L' word.”
Allison and I woke up early, and I promised to make her pancakes after we showered. She used the shower in the master bathroom while I used the shower in the hall bathroom, and we met in the kitchen. She was still in her red slingshot bikini, and I got semi-erect just sitting in the same room as her. Music was still pulsing through the floorboards. “That music is kind of annoying,” Allison said. “Did your sister forget to turn it off last night or something?”
“I don't know, maybe,” I said.
That was a lie. Kylie never forgot anything. She turned that music on like clockwork every morning. Kylie had carefully managed every minute of her day since she was 8, and she had been working out from 5:30 AM to 7:00 AM since she was 10. She never missed a single day, not even on holidays or during vacations. “Can we go down into the basement and turn the music off?” Allison asked, checking out the kitchen as I made pancakes. “Maybe check out her super-secret gym?”
“We really can't,” I said. “Mom and dad gave her the whole basement to use as her personal gym, and she always keeps the door locked. She won't let anyone else go down there.”
I was getting a little ticked off at Allison. It was the first thing in the morning, I was making her breakfast after a night of incredible sex, and for some reason she was thinking about my little sister. Fortunately, she got distracted by something else. “Holy shit, you have a pool?” she exclaimed. “It's huge, too! You didn't tell me you had a giant pool. Are you like, the perfect boyfriend or what?”
I smiled. “It's too bad you didn't bring a bikini,” I said with a wink.
Allison wrapped her arms around my chest. “Maybe I'll just lay out nude,” she whispered.
I got rock hard again, and had to back up to stop my johnson from hitting the oven door as I finished the pancakes. After breakfast, Allison and I went back into my bedroom played Street Fighter 5. She would always pick Cammy. “She has a great ass,” she said. “So thick and toned.”
That was a strange thing for her to say, but I agreed with her, so I didn't say anything. We made out on my bed until Allison noticed that the sun was shining brightly, and we decided to lay out by the pool, and make out there instead. We got our lotion and sunglasses and headed toward the kitchen. When we got there the music had stopped, and Kylie was at the table eating oatmeal and eggs as she read a book the size of a dictionary. “Good morning Kylie,” Allison said.
“Good morning Tits McGee,” Kylie replied without looking up.
“We're going to lay out by the pool,” Allison said. “Would you like to join us?”
I was a bit startled to hear that, and I was thankful that it was almost 10:00 AM, which is when Kylie practiced her violin on Saturdays. “You want to see my muscles really badly, don't you?” Kylie asked. “I'm starting to get embarrassed for you.”
“I was just trying to be nice,” Allison said lightly, seeming neither hurt nor defensive.
A few minutes later Allison and I were out by the pool. I was in my blue trunks and Allison was in her red sling bikini. It was hard not to ogle her as she lay in the sun, her creamy skin glistening with sweat. She knew it, too. “If you keep staring at me, only half of your face will get tanned,” she said.
“I'll wait until you turn over and move to the other side,” I said.
Allison sat up on her elbows and smiled. “Where did all this smooth talk come from?” she asked. “Last night all you could say was 'oh yeah?' with this dumb look on your face.”
“I guess you bring out something in me,” I said, leaning in for a kiss.
Just before our lips touched we heard a door slam, and we looked up. Kylie stood by the backdoor in a terrycloth robe and blue flip flops. She was wearing sunglasses of mirrored blue glass, her long blonde hair perfectly styled, and she was looking out over the water as if we weren't there.
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Wow, I am in awe of your writing ability, not only to build up anticipation for the next part, but delivering when the next part comes, I really like what I see here, Kylie being a Mary-Janeish character, so smart, so strong, so bad ass, I really can't wait to read more! Great stuff as always, Grbaclig! k+!
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Man this story is shaping up to be great quickly. Love the sterness, the sass and attitude Kylie has, seems like her muscles will be on par of her temperament.
The writing is so solid, can hardly wait for the next issue! The teases are killing me!
:rock: :rock:
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I am in love with the character of Kylie. So rude, so selfish.
Go on, I can't wait.
K+
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Part 1, Chapter 4
My heart sank as I realized that it was now 10:30 AM, and Kylie was done practicing her violin. “Don't you listen to those science podcasts from 10:30 to noon?” I asked.
“I'm all caught up,” she said flatly as she untied the belt of her robe. “Besides, I need to work on my tan for my competition next week. But I think I'll take a dip in the pool first.”
Kylie let her robe fall to the ground, as she stepped out of her flip flops and took off her sunglasses. Allison almost fell out of her chair. “Oh. My. God,” she said. “She is beyond jacked.”
It was hard to argue with her. Every muscle in Kylie's young body was bulging with mass and shredded to perfection, from her shoulders which were the size of softballs and were visibly split into all three deltoid heads, to her calves which were shaped like upside-down hearts and were so sharply defined that they looked to be carved from marble
And every muscle in Kylie's young body was visible, because she was wearing her skimpy blue bikini. Kylie bought the blue bandeau bikini 2 years ago, and it caused a fight between her and dad the second she brought it home. Dad said that it was too revealing for a 10 year old girl. Kylie said that she bought it with her birthday money, and that women didn't need to be ashamed of their bodies. They agreed to settle the fight with an armwrestling match, which Kylie won handily.
True to his word, dad let her keep her bikini, which she wore whenever she was angry with him, just to remind him of her victory. She even wore it once in the dead of winter, when Dad made her get up early to shovel the snow. Kylie stomped outside barefoot with no hat, clad only in her bikini, and cleared the driveway and the sidewalk without so much as a shiver while passing drivers slowed down to gawk in amazement.
And if the blue bikini was too revealing 2 years ago, it was absolutely scandalous now. With a strapless bandeau top no thicker than a belt struggling to cover her broad chest and flaring back, and a bottom so low cut that it seemed to disappear between her muscle-packed thighs, it did more to accentuate her sculpted body than to conceal it.
With each step toward the diving board, Kylie's beveled calves bulged, her vastus and hamstring muscles pumped, and her deeply dimpled glutes contracted. Allison's jaw was literately hanging open as she watched Kylie climb onto the diving board. Standing near the edge of the diving board, Kylie raised her arms laterally like a crucifix and then slowly brought them overhead, her lats as thick as bowling pins, bulging like wings of steel. She stood for a moment to show off her eight chiseled abdominals framed by rocky ribs, ribbons of serratus muscles, and obliques that curled into a perfect apollo's belt as they descended from her narrow waist into the fabric of her bikini bottom. “Holy shit Rick,” Allison said. “A 12 year old girl is not supposed to have a body like that. It's unreal.”
It was hard to argue with her. Kylie had little girl's face and neck, hands and wrists, and ankles and feet. But everything in between was sculpted muscle packed into golden brown skin. Kylie had always been strong, but she was still my little sister. It was hard for me to accept that she was built like a cross-fit champion, only at about half the size and wearing a more revealing outfit.
We watched in awe as she approached her dive, her muscles rippling with striations and throbbing with power as she hopped, crouched, and then leapt into the air. She launched upward like a rocket, easily ten feet above the surface of the water, did three perfect somersaults, and then plunged into the pool fingertips first, leaving only the tiniest splash and ripple behind her. It was a flawless dive, the kind I had seen her execute dozens of times to win medals at swim meets. I had gotten used to Kylie's showy displays of athletic prowess, but Allison was seeing her for the first time, and was visibly impressed. She continue to stare at the pool, slack-jawed, as Kylie swam about the pool under the surface, zooming through the water like a torpedo as she went back and forth, around and around. “Is she ever going to come up?” Allison asked. “How long can she hold her breath?”
“She's just showing off,” I grumbled. “She's trying to convince you that she's some kind of supergirl or something.”
“It's totally working,” Allison said, her eyes glued to the pool.
I was getting sick and tired of hearing Allison gush about my little sister, and I was starting to tense up just thinking about it. I was just about to say something that I would probably regret when Allison put her hand on my swim trunks, and started stroking my dick. I relaxed instantly. Allison's touch reminded me that no matter how much she idolized my little sister, she was my girlfriend and my lover, and Kylie wasn't ever going to change that.
After a few minutes underwater, Kylie finally broke through the surface, arms outstretched, and grabbed the edge of the diving board. Water streamed from her lumpy, muscle-packed back as she pulled herself up out of the water, using the diving board to do a close-grip pull-up. “There she goes, showing off again,” I grumbled. “I hope she doesn't keep this up for much longer.”
But Kylie wasn't done showing off. As soon as her chin reached the top of the diving board, she transitioned smoothly into a muscle-up, her shoulders and lats erupting into bulging, perfectly segmented muscle groups as she raised herself up until her navel was level with the diving board. Now she extended her arms just enough to raise her deeply dimpled buttocks out of the water, knowing fully that they were completely exposed by the tiny strip of blue fabric that constituted her bikini bottom. Her arms now fully extended, Kylie began to raise her legs into a side splits. Her thighs bulged with thick cables of muscle that shifted beneath her skin like pythons wrapped in golden-brown silk, and her delicate toes were pointed so that her calves jutted out with diamond-hard prominence. Water lapped on the undersides of Kylie's thighs and glutes as she suspended herself motionless for several seconds, her incredible arms keeping her body aloft, and her amazing legs maintaining the side splits. “I wish she would hurry up and get this over with,” I grumbled.
But Kylie still wasn't done showing off. Slowly, she began to transition into a handstand, her delts and triceps rippling with striations as she began to rotate her head downward and her butt upward, her legs held perfectly still by the chiseled muscles that ran from her ankles to her groin. Once Kylie sunk in her handstand she drew her legs together, her body now straight as an arrow, her blond hair spilling on to the diving board and her tiny feet pointing skyward. “Did you see that?” Allison hissed. “That was amazing! Do you have any idea how strong you have to be to do that?”
“She's in gymnastics. They all do that stuff. They do it all the time,” I grumbled, trying to downplay what was obviously an incredible act of strength, flexibility, and coordination.
“Uh, no they don't Rick,” Allison laughed. “I was in gymnastics for years and no one ever did anything even close to that. I mean, she had to fight the drag of the water, and her form was perfect.”
Kylie held her handstand for a few seconds while Allison continued to stare at her. Then she slowly arched her back and let her legs fold toward the diving board, as her arms coiled with muscular power like steel springs. Then with one quick motion she gracefully flipped forward onto her feet and walking off the diving board, striding with a natural ease that belied the amazing physical feat that she had just performed. Kylie grabbed her robe and glasses off the ground in one smooth motion and then, to my horror, she began walking toward Allison and I. “Kylie, that was amazing!” Allison said, chirping like an excited schoolgirl. “You're like, a superhero or something.”
Kylie ignored her, and walked to the side of my chair, her eyes fixed on mine like a predatory animal. With the sun at her back, and her body bulging with muscle, my 12 year old little sister seemed to tower of me, despite the fact that she was a foot shorter than I was. “You're in my chair,” she said. “You need to move.”
“Give it a rest Kylie,” I said, my voice choked with frustration and a more than a little fear. “We all saw your muscles, and we all know you're really strong so just... just go inside.”
“You're in my chair,” Kylie said again. “You need to move. Now!”
I hated when Kylie bullied me in private, but now she was pushing me around in front of Allison. This was too much. I was ready to burst. “For God's sake, Kylie!” I yelled. “Will you just-”
I never got a chance to finish my sentence. With a little sigh of exasperation, Kylie grabbed the sun lounger and flipped it over, spilling me head over heals into the yard. My shoulder screamed with pain as I rolled over.
As struggled to my hands and knees, Kylie began to towel off with the terrycloth robe, studying her body as if she were looking for flaws in her sculpted physique, all the while smiling smugly in the knowledge that there were no flaws to be found. When her body was dry she began to vigorously dry her hair. I had struggled up to my feet when Kylie finished drying her hair and dropped the makeshift towel to the ground, revealing a mane of blonde hair that was a perfect as if she had just walked out of a salon. “Whoa.” Allison said. “How did you do that with your hair? Who's your stylist?”
“I don't have one,” Kylie said, producing a tube of suntan lotion. “I just wake up like this.”
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Man this story is shaping up to be great quickly. Love the sterness, the sass and attitude Kylie has, seems like her muscles will be on par of her temperament.
The writing is so solid, can hardly wait for the next issue! The teases are killing me!
:rock: :rock:
:thanks:
I'm glad the teases work. I am playing around with structure in my recent stories. When I wrote "Girls Just Want To Have Fun," I used a random number generator to pick characters, settings and themes. For this story, I want every chapter to be very short, and to end on either a tease or some foreshadowing.
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Awesome story and writing!
:rock:
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Wow, I just love Kylie! She is so perfect in so many ways, so smart, so strong, so muscular, so beautiful, so agile, I have no doubt that she is just as fast as she is at such a high level in those other things too, I have no trouble believing that if her bullying gets so much for her brother and he decides to take off in his car, she can catch up to him on foot, even giving him a 5 minute head start. I never get tired of the whole Mary Sue type of character, especially if she's as young as Kylie! The next chapter can't come soon enough! k+!
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This story is awesome! I really like very young girls who are so much superior to their older counterparts :)
There is only problem with such superhuman characters: it's difficult to develop story farther and keep it interesting. I never succeed :(
And I have few questions about future development if allowed :)
Any detailed numbers on measurements and lifts in the future?
Kylie is perfectly beautiful, but does she loose to Allison in bust department?
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If I’ve learned anything from his stories It’s that it’s all about reaction from the protectionist as the girl interjects into their situation. The girl is who she is but she will reveal more of herself and pose and muscularity as it goes so def stay tuned. This isn’t all she has to offer
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I love your ability in muscular description. I would like to do the same, but in a language that is not mine, I can't... very very good... can't wait!!!
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Part 1, Chapter 5
Kylie filled her hands with suntan lotion and began to slowly rub the oily liquid all over her body. The sunlight shimmered on her tanned skin everywhere the lotion touched, making her physique look even more sculpted than before, more sculpted than I would have thought possible for any human being, especially not a grade school girl. Kylie studied her body with unwavering attention as she spread the glistening oil over the dramatic curves of her legs, the rocky flatness of her stomach, and the thick slabs of her pectorals. She was rubbing oil into her shoulders and arms as I began to walk back to the pool deck.
As soon as I approached the sun loungers, her eyes locked on me, and I automatically made a beeline away from the middle chair, as if my body itself was afraid to infringe on Kylie's territory. I was cold with shame as I walked to the sun lounger on the other side of Allison. If Allison noticed me, she didn't let on. Her eyes were glued to Kylie as she picked her sunglasses up off the ground and put them on with a quick flick of her wrists. Tossing the suntan lotion to Allison, Kylie laid face-down on the sun lounger and stretched out. “Hey Tits McGee,” she said. “Do my back.”
Allison nearly knocked her sun lounger over as she leapt up and ran to Kylie's side. A few seconds later she was running her hands over my little sister's back, shoulders and legs, and taking way longer than she needed to. She bit her lip just a little as she unhooked Kylie's top and moved it from her back. “Here you go,” Allison said, her voice shaking a little. “We don't want any tan lines.”
It seemed like it took Allison forever to finish rubbing suntan lotion on Kylie. She must've gone over her butt like 10 times, and even rubbed her feet for a little while, like she was giving her a foot massage. When Allison was done groping my little sister, she laid down on her stomach, and I followed suit. We lay in complete silence for nearly an hour, as if Allison and I were afraid to talk without Kylie's permission. Finally, she broke the silence. “Hey Tits,” she said. “I'm ready to turn over. Put my top back on.”
Allison's eagerly hopped up and fastened the tiny blue bandeau, and when Kylie turned over, we did too, as if we were animals following the pack alpha. In a way that's exactly what was happening, and I hated it. I spent the past few years shrinking from Kylie, and I had hoped that after my growth spurt I would finally be man enough to resist her. Last night's armwrestling match shattered any hope I had of liberating myself from her dominance, and now I was right back where I started, automatically submitting to her every whim. It made me sick with shame.
Allison, on the other hand, seemed completely unashamed of her girl-crush on Kylie. She ogled Kylie's arms as they rippled when she raised the seat back of the sun lounge. She ogled Kylie's abs as she lay motionless in the sun, her tanned skin glistening in her minuscule bikini and the glare reflecting off her mirrored blue sunglasses. She never looked away. I reached over and placed my hand on Allison's but she was too preoccupied with my little sister to notice. Allison's silent gawking was making me so uncomfortable that I started to squirm, but Kylie remained still as a stone statue, until she finally spoke. “If you keep staring at me, only half of your face will get tanned,” she said.
Allison blushed and quickly laid back down. “I'm sorry,” she said. “It's just that I've never seen a girl with muscles like yours before. It's hard not to stare.”
“That's because there are no other girls with muscles like mine,” Kylie sighed. “There's just me. And by the way, the answer to your question is 'yes'.”
“What question?” Allison asked, laughing nervously.
“Judging by the way you were staring at my stomach, I'm guessing you were wondering if I would let you punch me in the tummy, so you could see if my abs are as hard as they look,” Kylie said. “And the answer to that question is 'yes, you may punch me in the tummy as hard as you want'.”
Allison smiled a she climbed out of her sun lounger and stood over Kylie, with her arm cocked. Kylie hadn't moved an inch since she adjusted the chair upon turning over, and she didn't move an inch when Allison punched her in the stomach. “Wow,” Allison said. “You, uh, you didn't even flinch.”
“Because that wasn't a serious punch,” Kylie said. “You have pretty nice shoulders, so I'm guessing you can hit a lot harder than that. Go ahead, try again. Put some muscle into it.”
Allison cocked her arm again, but this time it snapped downward with impressive speed, smacking into Kylie's stomach with enough force to make the sun lounger's joints creek. Kylie still didn't flinch. She lay there still as a statue, even when Allison hit her a third time, and then a fourth. As Allison shook out her hand and massaged her wrist, Kylie yawned. “I can't believe how hard your abs get when you flex,” Allison said. “It's like punching a brick wall.”
“I wasn't flexing,” Kylie said. “If I did, you would have broken your hand. Now could you please get out of my sun? I have to make sure I have a good tan for my bodybuilding competition next week.”
“I didn't know they had bodybuilding competitions for girls your age,” Allison said as she sat.
“They don't,” Kylie said. “It's for ages 16-22. But I sent in a video of my posing routine, and they made an exception for me.”
“I'm sure they did,” Allison said. “You're totally jacked. Do you think you'll win?”
Kylie turned toward Allison then slowly raised her left arm, flexing a bicep as big and round as a baseball, cut with striations that most bodybuilders would spend a lifetime trying to develop. Below her bicep, the muscles of her tricep curled around her humerus, showing a level of definition that I had never seen before in my life, not even in pro athletes or action movie stars. Allison was obviously impressed as well, with her mouth wide open and her brow furrowed in disbelief. Kylie pumped her arm again, and slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to fix Allison with her piercing blue eyes. “What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you're going to dominate,” Allison said.
“I always do,” Kylie said as she laid back in the sun chair.
There was no arrogance in Kylie's voice, simply an unnerving confidence that cooled the entire backyard. Once again, Kylie had made herself the center of attention, and once again I felt deflated. As Allison settled back down into her chair, I rested my hand on hers in a desperate attempt to gain her attention. Then she squeezed my hand. My heart jumped for joy and my whole body filled with warmth. Kylie may have been Allison's girl-crush, but I was her boyfriend. She was the hottest girl in school, and everyone knew she was mine. Things would be fine, as long as I had Allison by my side.
Kylie was still lounging in the sun when Allison and I went inside to make lunch. “You should make some for your sister, too,” Allison said.
I bristled a little at the suggestion, but when Allison laid her chin on my shoulder and stroked my back, my resistance melted away, and I got to work. Kylie came back inside just as lunch was ready, and Allison was setting the table. “I made you some lunch,” I said. “Eat up.”
Kylie immediately began to eat. “It's good. Thanks,” she said without looking up.
That was probably the nicest thing that my little sister had ever said to me during my life, and I felt a tinge of pride. “It is really good,” Allison agreed, turning quickly to Kylie. “So, do you have to eat some crazy diet to get ready for your bodybuilding contest?”
Kylie shrugged. “Not really,” she said.
That was true. Ever since Kylie started exercising, she steadily put on pound after pound of lean chiseled muscle, regardless of what she ate. When she ate organic vegetables and free-range protein, she got bigger, stronger, and leaner. When she ate nothing but fast food and processed snacks, she got bigger, stronger, and leaner. When she went on a month-long hunger strike to protest the treatment of women in Myanmar, she got bigger, stronger, and leaner. It was almost like she bent biology to her will the same way she bent people to her will.
Kylie finished her lunch in about 5 minutes, and she sat at the table playing with her phone as Allison and I cleaned the kitchen. “What are doing this afternoon, Kylie?” Allison asked. “Do you want to come to the mall with Rick and I?”
“No,” Kylie said. “I'm getting ready to work my chest.”
“That's cool,” Allison said. “How much do you bench?”
“My max is 250,” Kylie said, still playing on her phone.
“Are you serious?” Allison asked. “250 pounds?”
That statement made my brow furrow in disbelief. Kylie was a 12 year old girl who weighed all of 80 pounds. She may have gotten ridiculously ripped from doing gymnastics, and she may have been able to beat me at armwrestling, but there was just no way she could bench 250. I guess she saw the look of skepticism on my face, because she fixed me with her icy blue eyes. “Is that bitchy little look on your face supposed to mean something, Rick?” she growled. “Don't you believe me?”
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I love your ability in muscular description. I would like to do the same, but in a language that is not mine, I can't... very very good... can't wait!!!
I think your stories are very good. I think a good story is more about the plot and characters than the language. If you have a good plot and good characters you can make language mistakes without hurting the story.
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Kylie never specified pounds. When she proves it to them she should be lifting 250kg
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This is a great story! I love how the characters interact with each other. The average big brother scared of his little sister's stronger, perfectly muscled body; his gorgeous girlfriend salivating, even lusting over her. And both of them covered in the skimpiest of bikinis! But ironically it's little sis's dominating attitude that dominates the story. She hasn't bullied her brother in months. I get the feeling his luck is about to run out.....
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Kylie never specified pounds. When she proves it to them she should be lifting 250kg
>:D
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250 is great. How much can his brother and Allison lift. Will there be a challenge?
Hope Allison also gets into weight lifting and gets better than her boyfriend
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Another great chapter of this wonderful story, I enjoyed every part of it, Kylie being so confident in her body and it's abilities, how she knows how much better she is than anyone, how she has no doubt that in the bodybuilding contest where she could face people up to 10 years older than her, she will win. I also love the assertion that basically she has superhuman metabolism, where anything she eats (or doesn't eat, even) gets transformed right into muscle. Benching 250 pounds is impressive for anyone, but well, I guess my own expectations were that Kylie was even stronger than that. The story seems to be far from done though, by the end of it, she may be much, much stronger than that. I look forward to more, as always, grbaclig! k+!
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Kylie never specified pounds. When she proves it to them she should be lifting 250kg
>:D
Which also makes sense if she's a science genius. As Metric IS science
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I have no words. It is simply wonderful. Please, go on!!!
K for you
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Only one hope: no green eyes at the end... please... I really love this story!!! but she-hulk it's not my fav theme...
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Part 1, Chapter 6
Something snapped inside me. I don't know if I was tired of Kylie showing off, or emboldened by Allison's affection, or a little bit of both. Whatever it was, I was done being submissive toward my arrogant little sister. “There's no way you can bench that much,” I said. “You weigh like 80 pounds. And you told mom that you were benching 150 over Christmas dinner, even that was probably a lie.”
“I weigh 95 pounds now,” Kylie said venomously. “And I've gotten stronger since Christmas.”
“Christmas was like 6 months ago,” I said in exasperation. “No one adds 15 pounds of muscle and 100 pounds to their max bench press in 6 months,” I said.
“I did,” Kylie said through gritted teeth. “I get bigger and stronger every day, Rick.”
“That's bullshit!” I spat. “You're such a liar. But since we're not allowed to go down into your little fortress of solitude, I guess we'll never know, will we? So I guess you can just keep on lying!”
Kylie stood up, and stomped toward the basement door. “Both of you follow me,” she growled, looking over her shoulder. “But don't touch anything down here. My gym is sacred.”
Something in my gut told me not to follow Kylie into the basement, but Allison was already halfway down the stairs, giddy as a schoolgirl as she hopped down the steps. “I appreciate you letting us into your gym,” Allison said. “I can imagine how passionate you must be about lifting, and I'm grateful that you trust me enough to share this part of your life with me.”
“You have no idea how passionate I am about lifting,” Kylie snarled. “Besides, this isn't about trust. This is about pride. No one calls me out and gets away with it. No one.”
“Oh wow,” Allison said a she walked into the basement. “This is really impressive.”
Impressive was an understatement. Our basement was better stocked with weights and machines than the weight room at Fairlawn high. Two of the walls were covered with mirrors, and one of them was buried in trophies and medals from Kylie's various athletic victories. “Where did all this stuff come from?” I asked, stepping over battle ropes. “Did mom and dad buy you all this.”
“Of course not,” Kylie said, walking to the bench press. “I took the $2,000 that grandma left me in her will, and invested it in the stock market. It only took me a few weeks to turn it into $30,000.”
Kylie ran her fingers over the plates on the barbell as I counted them. They totaled 250 pounds. That was 50 pounds more than I could bench. Heck, there were linemen on our football team that couldn't bench that much. There was simply no way that a 12 year was going be able to lift that much, not even one as muscular as Kylie. But Kylie's face was calm, and her body language exuded confidence as she laid down under the bar. “Hey Tits McGee, give me a spot,” she said.
“I should do it,” I said. “That's a lot of weight.”
“I know it's a lot of weight,” Kylie said. “That's why I want her. She's stronger than you.”
I burned with anger. Anyone who saw Allison in her red sling bikini could see that she was in great shape, but there was no way she was stronger than me. She was flattered at the suggestion though, because she bounced over to the bench and put her hands under the barbell to help Kylie unhook it. It seemed weird that Allison knew how to spot. It was almost like she knew how to lift.
But Kylie didn't need her help. She hoisted the bar off the hooks by herself and held it in the air, her arms shaking. She brought the bar to her chest and then, with every muscle in her body straining, she pressed the 250 pound barbell up into the air. Then she let it down on her chest, and after a few deep breaths she was ready for another rep. Again, her muscular arms extended the big weight upward, but this time she slowed down significantly as she reached the apex of the press. Kylie exhaled loudly, then brought the bar back down for another rep. The third rep, however, proved much harder than the first two. Kylie's arms were shaking as she struggled to lock out. “Come on girl, you can do it!” Allison called. “Pump those pecs. Just one more inch to go!”
Uneasily, Kylie forced the bar up to full extension, into Allison's waiting hands, and dropped it into the hooks with a heavy clang. She sat up and smiled, her pectorals now pumped into thick slabs of muscle, barely covered by the blue bandeau top, and looked me in the eye. “How much was that, Rick?” she crowed. “How much did I just bench?”
“250 pounds,” I said meekly. “H-how did you do that? How did you get so strong?”
“The only way anyone gets strong, Rick,” she said. “I pump serious iron. I pump all the iron. I could put up 300 right now if I wanted to.”
My eye started to twitch now. I hated Kylie's bullying and I hated Kylie's showboating, but I really hated Kylie's bragging. And I'd had to endure all three in the span of a single hour. I snapped again. “You could not!” I cried. “You almost killed yourself putting up 250. Who are you even trying to impress? We get it, you have big muscles and you're really strong. Just give it a rest and stop lying!”
Kylie's mouth crumpled in anger. Without speaking, she stood up and took the clasps off the barbell, stomped to the plate rack and returned with a 25 pound plate in each hand, carrying them easily as if they were light as frisbees. “Kylie are you sure you want to do this?” Allison said. “I mean, you're probably still worn out from the last set. Maybe you should rest for a-”
“Shut up and spot me,” Kylie growled as she laid down on the bench.
The bar was bending in the middle from the weight that wit bore, and I smiled as I thought about that weight crashing down on Kylie. I guess I should have been worried that my little sister was going to hurt herself, but I didn't think of Kylie as my sister. I thought of her as a bully. After years of relentless torment, I was excited at the prospect of seeing her trapped under the bar, begging for help free herself, and having to admit that she wasn't perfect after all. Still, a little piece of me felt like I had to protect her, so I walked over the bench and stood next to Allison, ready to grab the bar as soon as Kylie cried for help. Well, maybe I wouldn't grab it right away. Maybe I would let her squirm a little.
Kylie had a look of steely determination as she wrapped her hands around the bar. It was pretty obvious that she wasn't going to be able to unhook the bar on her own, so Allison grabbed it as well. I was going to let Allison struggle for a minute before helping unhook the bar, but to my surprise she was able to unhook it with a little tug. She let her hands float under the bar as Kylie lowered the massive weight to her chest, took a deep breath, tensed her body and pressed as hard as she could.
And nothing happened.
Kylie started to redden as she strained, her entire body trembling as she arched her back and drove her legs into the floor. “Come on girl,” Allison said. “You can do it. You can totally do this.”
I smiled as a warm feeling washed over me. It was the confidence that I had lost when Kylie had started picking on me, lifting my spirits and my posture as I watched her struggle. “No she can't,” I said. “She can't do it. She's not strong enough. She's not even close to strong enough.”
The second those words left my mouth, Kylie's eyes popped wide open. But instead of the steady stillness they normally displayed, they were wild and angry. Her nostrils flared just a little, and her jaw trembled as she clenched it. “You don't tell me what I can't do!” she growled.
Then, with a primal shout, Kylie thrust the the barbell off her chest with one explosive burst of power. Allison and I stared in disbelief as she lowered the bar to her chest again, then proceeded to crank out rep after rep with the barbell that had her pinned to the bench only seconds ago. Kylie shouted at me as lifted, barking out a single word each time she pressed the weight off her chest. “You. Don't. Tell. Me. What. I. Can't. Do!” she yelled. “I. Can. Do. Anything. I. Want. To. Do!”
After 16 reps Kylie dropped the bar back in the hooks, and leapt up off the bench. She spun around and glared at me, her blue eyes still burning with rage. “Oh my God Rick,” Allison whispered. “Look at her chest. It's amazing!”
Amazing was an understatement. My little sister's pectoral muscles were so pumped that they looked two inches thick. What's more, they were so well developed that the segmentation of the muscle groups could be seen over every inch of her pecs, from where they connected to her deltoids, to where they met at her sternum. The tiny blue bandeau top was barely covering her and it strained with every breath she took, so overwhelmed by the size of her pecs that it looked like a rubber band wrapped around two pumpkins. “Did you see that Rick?” Kylie snarled as she stomped toward me. “What did I just do, Rick? Tell me what I just did!”
“Y-you bench pressed 300 pounds,” I stammered, backing away as quickly as I could, my confidence having disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived.
“No Rick,” she crowed, looking down at her meaty, sweat-beaded chest “I didn't just press 300 pounds. I crushed 300 pounds. I destroyed it! Now both of you get the hell out of my gym!”
Allison and I were speechless as we fled the basement. We had seen a 12 year old girl bench press 300 pounds, her iron will and steely muscles defying not only her own limitations, but also the limitations imposed by her adolescent biology. And over the blaring music we could hear the clinking of iron plates, which could mean only one thing: Kylie was still lifting, getting bigger and stronger.
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Kylie never specified pounds. When she proves it to them she should be lifting 250kg
>:D
That would be a very clever turn. I wish I'd thought of it. :-[
Sadly, it would kind of disrupt the path of the narrative, so we'll stick with imperial units.
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Oh my God!!!
that's amazing
your story is something!!!
K for you
don't make me wait for more...
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When she ate organic vegetables and free-range protein, she got bigger, stronger, and leaner. When she ate nothing but fast food and processed snacks, she got bigger, stronger, and leaner. When she went on a month-long hunger strike to protest the treatment of women in Myanmar, she got bigger, stronger, and leaner.
This may sound weird, but I love it when your writing gets repetitive.
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I love Kylie's will, she gets told that she can't do something, she does it just to spite the person who "challenged" her. Not only did she bench 300 pounds, but with a burst of fury, she did it for 16 reps, her muscles fueled by her anger, just like the Hulk's, I hope she continues to use that in the future to get bigger and stronger faster. I look forward to more as always! k+!
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Just simply a great job! K+!
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I love Kylie's will, she gets told that she can't do something, she does it just to spite the person who "challenged" her. Not only did she bench 300 pounds, but with a burst of fury, she did it for 16 reps, her muscles fueled by her anger, just like the Hulk's, I hope she continues to use that in the future to get bigger and stronger faster. I look forward to more as always! k+!
I agree... but I hope there is no Hulk in this story!!!
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Part 1, Chapter 7
Allison and I started binge-watching TV shows to cut the awkward silence that followed Kylie's exhibition, and soon we were exchanging light banter. Allison was laying in my arms, and I was stroking her tummy as we watched the TV in silence. I finally felt like everything was all right, when Allison suddenly spoke. “Rick, your little sister is my hero,” she said. “I have a total girl-crush on her.”
I squirmed with frustration. “Yeah, I kind of noticed,” I sighed.
“I mean, she's a little intense sometimes,” Allison said as she turned her body to talk face to face. “But I guess she has to be in order to be so good at everything.”
“She's not good at everything,” I mumbled.
“Well what is she bad at?” Allison asked with a knowing smile. “What's her weakness?”
I didn't have an answer. Kylie had succeeded at everything she had ever tried in her life. Even if I ignored her physical prowess, I had to contend with the fact that she was always at the top of her class, she was always first chair in band, she always won first prize in science fairs and spelling bees, and she was always the prettiest girl in the room. If she had a weakness, I honestly didn't know what it was. So I said something spiteful about her. “She looks like a dude with all those muscles,” I said. “I kind of feel bad for her, actually. She's gotten away with a lot because boys think she's bae. Once she shows up in class looking like The Rock, that safety net's going to disappear fast.”
“That's so mean,” Allison said, but she didn't stop smiling. “And by the way, your sister has very feminine lines. Besides, athletic women are in style now.”
“Kind of, I guess,” I said with a shrug.
“It's true,” Allison said, sitting up and straddling my lap as she rubbed my shoulders. “And soon Kylie's boobs are going to come in. And judging by the huge rack your mom has, they're going to be real monsters. Face it Rick, your sister is always going to be bae.”
“She's bigger and stronger than any boy her age,” I objected. “No dude is going to like that.”
“You don't think strong women are sexy?” Allison asked. “Not even me?”
I took her hand. “You know I think you're sexy,” I said. “Even blind guys think you're sexy.”
“I know,” Allison chirped. “And I'm also stronger than you, remember?”
I scoffed. “You're not stronger than me,” I said. “Kylie just said that to get under my skin. I mean, you weigh maybe 100 pounds, and most of that is your tits. Besides, you're just a girl.”
Allison cocked her head, as if she was confused by what I had said. Then a smile lit up her face, and took my hand land led me to the center of the room. “Okay then,” she said. “Let's wrestle.”
I smiled. I knew that Allison was talking about sex, but I got down in a freestyle wrestling stance anyway. “Any time you're ready, little lady,” I said.
There was a brief spark in Allison's eyes, as she got down in a freestyle wrestling stance of her own. Suddenly, I realized that she wasn't talking about sex after all. I didn't have time to process that realization before she pounced. In a flash I found myself on the floor with Allison's legs grapevined around mine, and her hands around my wrists pinning my arms over my head. “That was almost too easy,” she said, tossing her hair. “I know I'm stronger than you, but I expected a little resistance.”
Allison's creamy DDD tits were inches away from my face, swaying gently as her areolas peeked out from behind the fabric her red slingshot bikini. “Why should I resist,” I said. “The view from down here is pretty awesome.”
“Oh you think I'm playing around?” Allison purred. “Is that what you think?”
“Hey, I'm not complaining,” I laughed. “I'll play around all night.”
Then Allison started to spread her legs, forcing mine apart. At first it was just uncomfortable, but as she continued to stretch out, my inner thighs started to scream with pain. I squeezed my legs as hard as I could, but still Allison continued to stretch me out. “Rick, you're turning red,” she said. “What's wrong? Are my legs too strong for you? Even though I'm just a girl that weighs 100 pounds?”
I tried to explode upward with my shoulders, or pull my arms free, but I could never get more than an inch or two of lift before Allison forced me back down, and stretched me back out. The pain was getting unbearable. “Cut it out, Allison,” I groaned. “That really hurts.”
“Well why don't you just break loose?” she cooed. “After all, you're stronger than me because I'm just a girl. Isn't that what you said? I'm just a girl, and I'm nothing but a pair of tits?”
“I said you were mostly tits,” I said. “I was just joking around so-”
My voice was muffled instantly as Allison relaxed her legs a little, slid up my body, and plopped her breasts down on my face. Her hooters were so big that they covered my face completely. I had a lot of sensations swirling around in my head at once, and I didn't know how to feel. I couldn't see, it was hard to breathe, and my legs were really starting to hurt, but I could feel Allison's pillowy tits on my face, and a raging erection was sprouting in my pants. “Okay, you proved your point,” I said.
“What was that Rick?” Allison giggled. “I can't hear you. You sound all muffled.
“Let me go” I said, more loudly.
“I still can't hear you,” Allison purred. “That's probably because I have my big jugs on your face. By the way, I call then Venus and Serena, because no other pair can compete with them. They're pretty unhappy about what you said earlier, but they might let you go if you ask them nicely.”
My legs were screaming with pain, and it was getting hard to breathe, but I had to admit that this was pretty hot. “Please let me go, Venus and Serena,” I asked.
Allison's tits wobbled on my face, shaking from side to side. “It looks like they're still pretty mad,” she laughed. “Maybe you should suck my nipples and see if that helps.”
She didn't have to tell me twice. My tongue poked around Allison's left breast until I found her nipple, hidden behind her bikini, and hard as a diamond. I started to suck and lick, and Allison started to moan with pleasure. Eventually Allison shifted her right breast onto my face, allowing me to take a breath. “Now do Serena,” she said. “You don't want her to get jealous, do you?”
She didn't have to tell me twice. My tongue moved the bikini away from Allison's right nipple, and I began to suck and lick, until Allison began to moan with pleasure yet again. Then, as quickly as she had entangled me, Allison released me. I was sore and sweating as I struggled to my feet, but Allison looked fresh as a daisy as she tucked her hooters back into her top. “See, I told you I was stronger than you are.”
“You're not stronger than me,” I said. “It's just that quads are stronger than inner thighs, so it's easy to spread someone's legs apart like you did to me. You could never beat me straight up.”
Allison smiled, and dropped down into a crouch again. “Challenge accepted,” she said.
I decided to shoot first, to neutralize her speed, so I leapt at her, locking my arms around her thighs. We fell to the floor together, but as we did, Allison slipped my hold, slid around my back, and wrapped her arms around my neck and my right thigh. As soon as we hit the ground, I was on my back in a cradle hold with Allison's huge tits crammed in my face once again. “You're getting better, Rick,” Allison laughed. “That time it took me a whole second to pin you.”
I relaxed, took a deep breath and exploded outward, putting every ounce of my strength into breaking out of Allison's cradle pin.
But I couldn't. I couldn't break her grip, imbalance her, or even get her tits out of my face. “Let me go, Allison,” I said. “Or Venus or Serena or whoever. You got the pin, so just let me go already.”
Allison released me, and once again I struggled to my feet to find her already standing, not even breathing heavily as she adjusted her bikini and fixed her hair. “I'm sure it wasn't easy to admit that I'm stronger than you,” she said. “But I think it's kind of sexy. I like a man who knows his place.”
“I didn't admit to anything,” I grumbled. “You're not stronger than me, you're just fast and slippery. If we started on the ground like in Greco Roman wrestling, I'd crush you.”
Allison rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said. “Do you want the top position or the bottom?”
“I don't really have time for this, Allison,” I said. “I have to take a shower and then we-”
My voice died in my throat as Allison undid her bikini and threw it onto the couch. She stood before me, hands on hips, completely naked and absolutely gorgeous. Ever since I saw her in that red sling bikini, I knew that Allison had a hotter body than any porno chick I had ever seen. But now, after wrestling with her, I was seeing her body in a different light. I knew before that she had an hourglass figure, but now I could see that it was accentuated by shoulders that were kind of broad. I knew before that she had a tight tummy, but now I could see the faint outline of six abdominal muscles. I knew before that she had a round butt and luscious legs, but now I could see that all those soft curves were made of hard muscle. I could see now that Allison's body resembled an athlete's as much as it did a porn star's, and I got the sinking feeling that she might actually be stronger than me. She smiled as she noticed my hesitation. “Well big boy,” she asked. “Top or bottom?”
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I agree... but I hope there is no Hulk in this story!!!
Don't worry, that sort of thing isn't my style. I don't really like growth rays, magic spells, superpowers or anything like that.
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This suddenly got really, really interesting. Allison looks like she’s going to get even hotter than she already is!
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Well, the whole girlfriend being stronger than boyfriend is not an unexpected development in this genre, so I'm totally cool with that. Though I don't know how much longer Allison will be Rick's girlfriend, not if Kylie decides to take her for her own, which I'm guessing will happen soon enough in this storyline. I would feel bad for him if he wasn't such a dick. So yeah, great writing once again, grbaclig, looking forward to more! k+!
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Kylia is getting taller?
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I agree... but I hope there is no Hulk in this story!!!
Don't worry, that sort of thing isn't my style. I don't really like growth rays, magic spells, superpowers or anything like that.
thank you so much!!!
your story is amazing...
K for you
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Part 1, Chapter 8
“I'm better when I start off down,” I said, getting down on my hands and knees.
“That's good, because I like to be on top,” Allison cooed as slid her body onto mine, one hand above my elbow and one arm around my stomach. “Rick,” she whispered, “did you know that when the Olympics began, the athletes used to compete in the nude? I think they did that because being naked makes you feel primal and powerful. At least, that's how it makes me-”
While Allison was talking, I decided to employ the element of surprise. I grabbed the arm she wrapped around my stomach and rolled hard, so that I could drive my shoulder into her ribcage and pin her to the ground, where my weight advantage would allow me to easily overcome her.
But that's not what happened. Allison wrenched her arm free from my grip and passed easily over me as I rolled, flipping me onto my back. She landed with her butt on my chest, her feet beside my head, and her hands wrapped around my wrists, controlling my arms. I struggled to free myself, but just like before I was unable to outmuscle her. “I can't believe you cheated,” she said. “I'm just a girl who weighs 100 pounds, with most of that being tits, and yet you felt like you had to cheat to win.”
As Allison taunted me, I felt anger boiling up in side me. Every mean thing a girl had ever said or done came back to me at once. I exploded up off the ground into a seated position, my knees bent and my feet planted, ready to rise up. But I never got the chance. Instead, Allison clamped her thighs around my head and started to squeeze. The pressure was incredible, and I fell back to the ground with her legs wrapped around my head as she pressed my face into her perfect pink pussy. She chuckled as she rubbed her labia. “Rick, I don't think you've been formally introduced to my vagina, Annika,” she said. “I call her Annika because she's the greatest of all time. Say hello, Rick.”
Lying on the floor at Allison's mercy for the third time in less than 5 minutes, I felt humiliated, aroused, and confused all at once. I didn't know what to do, so I obeyed her. “Hello Annika,” I said.
Allison responded by squeezing her thighs together like a vice. It felt like my jaw was going to snap and like my skull was going to pop. I cried out in pain as tears filled my eyes. “Ooh,” Allison jeered. “Rick, I think Annika is mad at you. I don't think she likes your attitude.”
“I'm sorry,” I whined. “I'm sorry Annika. Please make it stop.”
“I don't know,” Allison said. “Annika is pretty angry. You should lick her and see if that helps.”
As pain shot through my head, I stuck my tongue out and started to lick up and down Allison's labia. She sat silent and motionless, still squeezing my head in her vice-like thighs, until the upstroke of my tongue flicked the tip of her clitoris. With a little gasp, Allison relaxed her legs a little, enough that I could breath. I licked again and again, flicking her clit with my tongue as often as I could, until finally Allison released me from her indomitable legs. She sat up, her thighs still on either side of my head, and played with my hair. “Your apology has been accepted,” she said as she stood up.
After Allison's third victory, I slumped to the bathroom and took the longest, quietest shower of my life. Or at least I tried to. I had only been in the shower for a few minutes when the curtain slid back, and soon Allison was behind me, her arms encircling me and her breasts pushing into my back. Her touch was gentle and sensual now, and I was overwhelmed with love for her, and a feeling of how lucky I was to have a girlfriend as hot as her. “Hi lover,” she said. “Mind if I share your hot water.”
We lathered each other with soap and washed each other's hair. It was the sexiest thing I had ever done in my life, and when it was over and we were drying off, my unit was still hard as a rock. “So what did you learn this afternoon, Rick?” Allison asked, looking down at my throbbing hard-on.
“I learned that you're stronger than me,” I said.
The words felt freeing, as if I was out from under the burden of some macho illusion. I felt at ease. I had a smoking hot girlfriend who loved to fuck. So what if she was a little bit stronger than me. “So where did you learn to wrestle like that?” I asked. “You were incredible.”
Allison wrapped her arms around me, put her chin on my shoulder, and melted over me like hot butter. She grabbed my dick and started to slowly stroke it. “It makes me so hot when you submit,” she said. “And since you asked I have three older brothers. I used to wrestle with them for fun, but as soon as I blossomed and the boys started following me around, they taught me how to fight for real.”
“Have you ever had to, you know, beat up a guy?” I asked.
“Other than you?” she laughed. “No. Mostly guys just do what I say because I'm so hot.”
“You are literally the hottest girl on earth,” I said.
“I know,” Allison said. “I hear that a lot. And I'm all yours, lover. As long as you do what I say.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Hmm. It's not that complicated Rick,” she said. “You do what I say, and I make you feel good. You disobey me, and I make you feel bad. Do you understand?”
“I guess,” I said. “I mean... not really.”
Allison laughed. “Thank God you have a great body,” she sighed. “Let me put it to you this way. You're Annika's slave now. If she's happy, I make you happy. If she's angry, I hurt you.”
Allison's words made perfect sense, but I was confused emotionally. “Slave?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, continuing to stroke my cock. “I tell you to do something, and then you do it, because my pussy controls your life. Now, I need you to give me all the money in your wallet.”
“Why should I give you all my money?” I asked.
Instantly, Allison stopped stroking my erection and squeezed it, and I shrieked as the pain paralyzed my limbs. “Rick, I just explained this to you,” she said sourly. “You are a slave to my pussy. You do whatever Annika wants you to do. And right now, Annika wants you get on your knees, crawl to your room, and crawl back to me with your wallet in your mouth like a dog. Do you understand?”
I nodded my head as tears rolled down my face, too wracked with pain to speak. Allison released my cock, and I fell instantly to my knees. I did as she said, and crawled to my room, grabbed my wallet and put it in my mouth as I crawled back out into the hallway. Then I froze. I was face to face with Kylie, who was going back to her room after her workout, her muscular body swelling out of her blue bikini. Our eyes met, and she blinked. Then she burst out into laughter as she went into her bedroom. “Be careful not to pee on the carpet, little doggie,” she jeered as she slammed her door.
I could still hear Kylie laughing as I crawled back into the master bedroom. Allison was tapping her foot impatiently as I crawled toward her, but when she opened my wallet and saw the $150 inside, she smiled. “Good doggie,” she said, patting me on the head. “You can stand up now.”
I stood up as Allison put the wallet on the counter. Her eyes narrowed seductively as she pushed me against the wall. “I can't,” I said. “It hurts. You squeezed it too hard.”
“I know it hurts baby,” Allison said. “Annika would cripple you for life if you tried to enter her right now. But you deserve a reward. So I'm going to use something soft, and be gentle.”
With a wink, Allison raised her tits up to her face, her fingers disappearing in their soft, pillowy flesh. She put both of her nipples in her mouth at once and sucked them, cooing in pleasure as she did, then released them, with a 'pop'. “Oh my God,” I gulped. “That is so hot.”
“I haven't even started yet,” Allison laughed, lowering herself to her knees.
We locked eyes as Allison guided my dick into the deep valley of her cleavage. She held her tits in her hand and jiggled them up and down, as I stared in awe at her buxom glory. The warmth of her breasts and the gentle movement of her jiggling made me grow hard almost instantly. “That feels so good,” I moaned, finding it hard to speak as my body tensed with pleasure. “You're tits are so soft.”
“I know,” Allison agreed. “And big and beautiful, too. “Now cum for me.”
With that, Allison puckered her lips and blew a gentle stream of cool air across my throbbing member, and I erupted instantly, sending semen spraying on both of her magnificent breasts. As I slumped against the door, exhausted, Allison stood up, my ejaculate glistening on her big, soft tits as she held them up from the underside. Then, as she looked me dead in the eye, she lifted her breasts to her face and began to lick them clean. She purred contentedly as her tongue slid across her perfect breasts, around her areloae, and over her nipples until they were clean, and shiny with saliva.
Allison giggled playfully as she twirled my hair with her finger. “Did you like that?” she asked. “Did you like way your cum looked on my tits? Did you like the way I licked it off?
“Yes,” I squeaked, too overcome by pain and pleasure to think or speak clearly.
“I know you did,” she said. “See how nice things can be when you're obedient?”
“Yes,” I said without thinking, automatic in my response.
Deep down inside, my heart sank. There were now two women in my life who could make me do whatever they wanted. There was Kylie, my 12 year old little sister, who could crush me like a bug with her overdeveloped muscles. And there was Allison, my sexually aggressive girlfriend, who could train me like a dog stem with her overdeveloped libido. I wondered how I would cope.
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Kylia is getting taller?
Kylie is 4'11" at this point in the story, but your comment made me realize I never spelled that out yet, so I went back and amended the end of Chapter 2.
She hasn't gotten any taller at this point in the story, but she is at the age when girls start blossoming...
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I like that you are focusing on someone other than Kylie, Allison has turned out to be a very strong, intriguing character in her own right, while I am still amazed by Kylie, I like a lot of what Allison has to offer as well. Very nice stuff. Though I do look forward to seeing Kylie show off more, I'm not against seeing Allison showing off too. k+!
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I like that you are focusing on someone other than Kylie, Allison has turned out to be a very strong, intriguing character in her own right, while I am still amazed by Kylie, I like a lot of what Allison has to offer as well. Very nice stuff. Though I do look forward to seeing Kylie show off more, I'm not against seeing Allison showing off too. k+!
Thanks Jeremy. I'm building out the dynamic between Kylie, Rick, and Allison so that I can play around with it more in the future if I want to.
But don't worry, as I think about where I want the story to go, the next four or five chapters should be all about Kylie being Kylie. :)
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I wonder how it will go with Alisson and Rick, while he
seems a bit of is a dick, I hope he can overcome his misogyny and behaviour before he loses her (though I'm not a big fan of hers either, so they kinda fit together?). Sure there are people like this in real life, but I'm not fond of either saccharine or dickish characters. Now, Kylie, on the other hand, she has that streak of brattiness you'd expect for a twelve years old. All in all, I look forward to the next chapters
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grbaclig, are you planning some kind of growth spurt for Kylie? If yes, will she outgrew Allison in bust department too? Just curious )))
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Part 1, Chapter 9
The school week passed uneventfully. Kylie played sick so she could stay home and work on her tan, Allison showered public displays of affection on me in class, and I tried to forget that my life was controlled by two girls. I couldn't wait until Sunday night, mom and dad were getting home.
Friday after school, Allison showed up without being invited. She was dressed in a sensible skirt and a modest blouse―although it was obvious from 100 feet away that she wasn't wearing a bra. “What are you so dressed up for?” I asked her, nervously putting my arms around her waist.
“Tonight is Kylie's bodybuilding competition, remember?” she said. “I promised to drive her.”
My heart sank. I hated watching Kylie compete, especially when it was something like swimming where she got to show off her body. It was like nonverbal bragging, and the thought of her prancing around in a bikini was too much to bear. “Let's just stay home,” I said. “I don't think-”
My groin erupted with pain as Allison's iron grip tightened around the crotch of my pants. “Rick, I thought we were clear on this,” she said. “Do you understand that Annika controls you, and that she makes you feel good if you do what she wants you to do?”
“Yes,” I groaned.
“Well the thing is Rick, Annika kind of controls me, too. And she makes me feel good if I do what she wants me to do. And Annika thinks that your little sister is awesome. And it makes me feel good to look at her, and touch her and even to talk about her. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I groaned.
“Good,” she said. “And so what are we going to do tonight?”
“Take Kylie to the bodybuilding competition,” I groaned.
“Good,” Allison said as she released my junk. “No go put on a dress shirt.”
I limped upstairs and changed my shirt, and on the way back downstairs, I ran into Kylie coming out of her room, wearing a green track suit and flip flops. We walked together in silence, Kylie two steps in front of me as we came downstairs. “Hi Kylie!” Allison chirped.
“Hi Tits McGee,” Kylie said. “I see you're not wearing a bra. Classy move.”
Allison ignored Kylie's verbal jab and went right on gushing over her as we walked to her car. “Your makeup looks really good, Kylie,” she said. “Very natural.”
“It looks natural because I'm not wearing makeup,” Kylie sighed as she climbed into the back seat. “I never wear makeup. I don't even own any. It's symbolic of patriarchal oppression.”
Allison looked startled. “So you just wake up looking like that?” she asked.
“Pretty much,” Kylie said as she put her wireless earbuds in, and stared out the window.
The civic center was packed with people for the National Junior Women's Bodybuilding Championships. Inside, Kylie got a gift bag and little tag with the number '12' on it to affix to her bikini. Allison and I followed her backstage, where all the other chicks were pumping their muscles and oiling up. “Some of the chicks are hot,” Allison whispered, “but none of them have muscles like Kylie.”
Allison was right about some of the bodybuilder chicks being hot. I imagined that they would all be muscle-bound freaks with faces like dudes and big veiny hands, but I was wrong. For the most part they were just really fit, really tanned college girls in bikinis.
Allison was also right about their muscles not comparing to Kylie's. There were some big bulky girls, and there were some very lean ripped girls. But none of them had Kylie's combination of size, shape and conditioning. The biggest of them weren't even that much bigger than Kylie, despite being several years older and several inches taller. I burned with jealousy and insecurity as I thought about Kylie winning yet another athletic competition, especially one that no 12 year old girl should be able to win. I hoped she would lose. But as Kylie began to strip down, her victory began to seem inevitable.
As Kylie stepped out of the baggy green nylon, heads turned from around the room. Clad in a green bikini that hugged her muscle-packed frame like it was painted on, Kylie displayed a level of muscular development that none of the other women could match. There were murmurs of disbelief as Kylie began to stretch, shoulders rippling, lats flaring and quads contracting. Oblivious to the stares, Kylie held up a tube of oil. “Does someone want to oil me up?” she asked.
“I'll do it!” Allison volunteered, practically tearing the tube from her hands.
Allison dropped to her knees, gazing bashfully up at Kylie as she filled her hands with oily white cream. She started at Kylie's feet, lovingly working her way up Kylie's slim, girly ankles to her bulging calves and her muscle wrapped thighs. Allison giggled as she began to knead Kylie's big, round, dimpled glutes. “Don't be such a creeper,” Kylie said as she put her hair up in a ponytail.
“I can't help it,” Allison said. “Your butt is, like, totally perfect.”
“I like totally know that,” Kylie mocked. “That's what happens when you never skip leg day.”
Allison bit her lip as she began to rub oil on the knotted muscles on Kylie's back. Then Kylie put her arms behind her head, and Allison began to run her hands up and down Kylie's lats, letting her fingers creep around Kylie's sides to the jagged cuts of her ribs and serratus muscles. “Okay, you can put your arms down,” Allison said, her hands trembling as she filled them with more oil.
“Are you sure?” Kylie asked. “You don't want to grope me some more?”
Allison tittered like a schoolgirl and blushed. “I just... I just... let's do your arms,” she said.
Allison licked her lips as she ran oil up and down Kylie's arms, her fingers tracing the contours of the deltoids, triceps, biceps, brachi and carpi. She went from Kylie's shoulders, down to her hands, interlocking their fingers as she stole a glance at Kylie, who rolled her eyes sarcastically. Allison then worked her way back up to Kylie's shoulders, and began to rub oil into her traps, massaging them as she went. Finally, Allison was on her knees in front of Kylie, her breath uneven as she worked her hands over Kylie's chiseled six pack and sculpted obliques. Soon all of Kylie's body was glistening and bronze, except for her chest, which Allison stared at wide-eyed as she gulped. “You doing okay down there, Tits McGee?” Kylie asked as she examined her own bulging forearms in the mirror.
“Almost done,” Allison gulped as she put her fingertips on my little sister's pectorals, and began to move her hands from side to side, streaking them with oil. “Just need to oil you tits... I mean chest.”
“Oh my God, you are such a creeper,” Kylie groaned, sounding every bit a 12 year old girl. “I should have made Rick do this. He would have finished in 30 seconds, just to end the humiliation.”
Allison rose to her feet and clasped her hands together, like an artist adoring her creation. “You're all done,” she said. “You look awesome! I got like, every little inch of your body.”
“Yeah, I know. I was the one being fondled,” Kylie retorted. “Nice nips, by the way.”
Allison gasped and looked down to her flimsy white blouse, which was struggling to conceal her tumescent nipples. I had only seen Allison's nipples poke out like that when we were making out, and even then they were never as prominent as they were now. I tried to ignore the implications of Allison's obvious arousal, but I couldn't think of anything to say to change the subject. We were rescued from our awkward silence by the arrival of a college-aged girl with short brown hair in a red bikini. She had legs like tree trunks, shoulders like cannonballs, and a face like a glamour model, but despite her impressive assets she seemed nervous as she approached. “Allison?” she asked.
Allison's face lit up as she turned. “Oh my God, Heather!” she said. “How are you, girl?”
“I'm great!” Heather said. “I'd give you a hug, but I'm all oily and you're wearing white, so...”
“It wouldn't be the first time you got me wet in public,” Allison said wryly, and Heather blushed.
As Allison and Heather casually touched hands, I remembered Allison's stories about her love affairs with college girls and my heart quickened. “So, who are your friends?” Heather asked.
“Oh,” Allison said with a start. “This is my boyfriend Rick, and his little sister Kylie. Guys, this is Heather. She's an, um, old friend of mine.”
Heather's attention went instantly to Kylie, as if she had been waiting for an introduction. “I heard there was a younger girl competing,” she said as Kylie walked a few steps to a rack of dumbbells. “But I didn't expect you to be so...”
“Big?” Kylie said, finishing Heather's sentence. “Jacked? Ripped? Something like that?”
“Yeah,” Heather giggled. “All of the above. You look amazing. Exactly how old are you?”
“I turn 13 in July,” Kylie said as she plucked a pair 45 pound dumbbells from the rack.
“You're 12 years old?” Heather asked, looking at Allison skeptically, as if Kylie was lying.
It was hard to blame her for being skeptical. I had gotten used to my little sister's freakish musculature over the past couple of years, but as I watched her pump up muscles that put the 20 year old bodybuilders around her to shame, I remembered how unbelievable her muscular development really was. “It's true," Allison said. "Kylie is a beast. And she hasn't even hit her growth spurt or started to fill out.”
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grbaclig, are you planning some kind of growth spurt for Kylie? If yes, will she outgrew Allison in bust department too? Just curious )))
I don't really have any specific plans for this story. Right now I'm just writing it down as it comes to me, trying to think 2 or 3 chapters ahead.
I do want to keep my options open though. ;)
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Hehe, yeah, I don't see how Kylie doesn't win this contest, I just wonder how much bigger and better she will be than the next contestant and how her nearest competitor takes losing to a mere 12 year old girl? Of course, she will have to recognize that Kylie is no normal 12 year old. It's probably been a long time that Kylie has lost at anything she truly wanted to win. When she wants something, she seemingly gets it. So far it seems she doesn't want Allison, but maybe that's because she has yet to go through puberty and haven't had those feelings yet. Anyway, I look forward to more from you, hopefully as soon as possible. k+!
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The way Allison reacted to Heather implies she isn't exactly new to these circles. She's probably been following these competitions for a few years and more than likely already knew about Kylie. I'm willing to bed she has 0 interest in the protagonist and was only using him to get close to Kylie from the very beginning. And it wouldn't surprise me if Kylie could read her like a book and is already aware of that.
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I do want to say one thing: Kylie being as intelligent as she is, I'm not a fan of. In the Becky Finklestein stories, her being super intelligent fit the context. In this one, however, not so much. Could change as it goes, though.
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The way Allison reacted to Heather implies she isn't exactly new to these circles. She's probably been following these competitions for a few years and more than likely already knew about Kylie. I'm willing to bed she has 0 interest in the protagonist and was only using him to get close to Kylie from the very beginning. And it wouldn't surprise me if Kylie could read her like a book and is already aware of that.
Good catch! I didn't see that until you pointed it out
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Part 1, Chapter 10
Heather turned to back Kylie, studying her body. “How long have you been lifting?” she asked.
“About 3 years,” Kylie said.
“You got that body in 3 years?” Heather asked. “Jesus girl, how much do you lift?”
“Kylie pumps all the iron,” Allison said. “Last week I watched her bench 300 pounds.”
If Heather had any doubts about Allison's story, they disappeared as Kylie began to perform front arm raises, her pecs hardening into slabs of inch-thick muscle with each lift. Heather stared silently for a few seconds as she turned back to Allison. “Well, I guess I'll leave you three alone,” she said. “Good luck Kylie. Always great to see you Allison, and it was nice to meet your... boyfriend?”
Allison smiled. “Don't knock it 'til you try it,” she said with a wink. “You might actually enjoy him. Or at least parts of him. Maybe the three of us could go out sometime, and have a little fun.”
Heather looked me up and down. I tried to play it cool. I wasn't into chicks with muscles, but Heather was absolutely beautiful, and other than her legs and shoulders, she wasn't really that big. She probably looked super hot in street clothes. And besides, how many guys my age got to have a threesome with a college girl. “Maybe I will,” she said, flashing bedroom eyes.
“Don't bother,” Kylie said. “You deserve a Chad, and Rick's a delta male at best. I make him cry all the time. Allison had to teach him to French kiss last week, and he still can't do it right.”
My face burned with anger as Allison and Heather burst into laughter. “Well maybe we can have a girls night out,” Heather said as she walked away, with Allison looking at her ass as she went.
I was still fuming mad at Kylie as the ushers escorted the competitors toward the stage, and the guests to their seats. I shifted uneasily in my chair as the lights went down. It was one thing to humiliate me at home, but did she have to make me look bad in public, too? “Stop squirming,” Allison hissed as the stage lights went up. “God, Kylie was right. You are such a delta male.”
My stomach hardened into a rock of anger, but I forced myself to sit still as the National Junior Women's Bodybuilding contest began, and the lightweight competitors began to take the stage. Most of the lightweights were just fit college girls, and I started to get a stiffy watching them prance around, covered in oil, shaking their hips in skimpy bikinis. Number 22 especially stood out, a beautiful black girl with a pair of big natural breasts that wobbled in her yellow top every time she moved. Not only was she the hottest lightweight, she was also the biggest. At least until Kylie came out. A murmur ran through the audience as Kylie's statistics flashed on the screen: height 4'11”, weight 97 lbs., age 12.
The murmurs only got louder as Kylie walked on to the stage with an easy, confident stride. And she had every reason to be confident. Although she was a several inches shorter than the other lightweights, Kylie's muscles displayed size, shape, and development none of them could compete with. And as she went casually through her routine, her dominance became more and more obvious.
The crowd was abuzz with talk of Kylie's muscularity, and Allison was no exception. “Look at her legs,” she said. “Look at how they curve in an out and in and out, and end with that giant butt. They're the perfect combination of feminine curves and beefy muscle. Like Beyonce on steroids.”
“Her muscles are disgusting,” I said. “She looks like a dude.”
“Uh no,” Allison said. “She has perfect feminine lines. I mean, look at her waist and her hips.”
It was hard to argue with her. Much as I hated to admit it, my little sister had an hourglass figure, long legs, and a face that had brought boys to the doorstep her entire life. All the muscle in the world couldn't make her look like a guy. In fact, her broad shoulders and sweeping thighs did more to accentuate her femininity than to detract from it. Kylie left the stage to a standing ovation, led by Allison, who filled the air with wolf whistles so loud I had to cover my ears.
Next came the middleweights. These chicks were packing some actual muscle, and some of them were almost as big as I was, except for number 7, an achingly gorgeous redhead who must have been six feet tall, and whose body looked more like a crossfit athlete than a bodybuilder.
The heavyweight girls were big, the broad backs and veiny arms. Heather was the hottest of them by far, and when she finished her posing she blew a kiss to the crowd, aimed right at Allison.
After a few minutes, the group for the final posedown was selected. The final competitors were two grown women and a 12 year old girl. The women didn't stand a chance. Kylie's face wore a slight smile of supreme confidence as, with each pose, she made her rivals look more and more inadequate. Her biceps peaked higher, her back flared wider, her abs were cut deeper, her calves bulged more sharply, her hips swept wider, and her butt stuck out further. “She doesn't have a single weakness,” Allison sighed. “She won the second she stepped on stage.”
The judges must have agreed, because they named a winner in a mater of sceonds. And so, a few minutes after setting foot on stage in her first bodybuilding competition, my 12 year old little sister walked off with a first place trophy and a card designating her as a professional bodybuilder.
Backstage I was swarmed by officials, because Kylie was too young to sign all the forms she needed to fill out. I signed papers papers as Kylie greeted admirers and potential sponsors, and Allison flirted her way through the field of young bodybuilders.
I watched with lustful curiosity as Allison pulled Heather into her orbit, then together they pulled in number 22, the buxom black beauty. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Allison point to me, and all three of them laughed. I had never felt more embarrassed in my life, and it was all Kylie's fault. By the time I finished the paperwork, the crowd around Kylie was gone. “We need to talk,” I said.
“I accept your congratulations,” she said. “But no, I won't give you workout tips.”
In my gut, my distaste for Kylie's arrogance and sarcasm mixed with the embarrassment I felt at being humiliated in front of Allison and Heather, and something inside of me snapped. “You cost me a chance at a foursome, you little bitch!” I screamed. “Do you even know what that means?”
“It means I stopped you from embarrassing yourself in front of three women with your pathetic attempts at sex,” Kylie said casually. “You should thank me. And they should definitely thank me.”
I felt a red haze rising over my eyes, and I could hear my heart pounding in my chest as my hands balled up. I raised my fist, and Kylie turned around calmly, and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Do it,” she said as she flexed her biceps. “Hit me, Rick. Hit me and see what happens.”
At the sight of Kylie's bulging muscles, the strength began to drain from my limbs, as if years of beatings had trained them to submit to her. “I don't want to hit you,” I squeaked.
“Yes you do,” she said. “But you're afraid to, because you know that if you do I'll just laugh at your feeble little punches, and then I'll beat you up in front of Allison and her hot little lesbo friends.”
Kylie was right. I was terrified of what she might do to me in public if I made her mad. “Kylie just leave me alone,” I whined, my voice flat and weak. “Let's just go home."
“First I want you to measure my muscles,” she said, throwing me a measuring tape. “You can either think of it as facing your fears, or think of it as learning your place. Your choice.”
I was cold with embarrassment as I uncurled the tape and wrapped it around Kylie's tanned oiled arm. “16 inches!?” I exclaimed, shamed by the fact that my own biceps were only 15 inches.
“Keep going,” Kylie said as she thrust out her muscle packed thigh while a crowd formed around us and began taking photos. “I have a lot of muscle to measure. And write all this down.”
“22 inches,” I muttered as I pulled the tape tight around the steel-hard cables of quad muscle.
“She's only 12, but she's so much bigger than him,” someone in the crowd whispered as I stretched the tape across Kylie's diamond-cut calf, and noted its 16 inch girth.
I burned with embarrassment at those words. And it only got worse as Kylie put her hands on her hips and looked down at her chest, smiling. Sheepishly I stretched the tape around her chiseled torso. “39 inches!” a woman in the crowd called out excitedly. “She's bigger than my husband!”
During those painful minutes I measured every sculpted slab of muscle on my little sister's body as the crowd continued to praise her. When I was done I looked down at the notes I had taken. Bicep 16 inches, thigh 22 inches, calf 16 inches, hips 35 inches, waist 19 inches, chest 39 inches. I couldn't believe it. Those were the measurements of a female bodybuilder, not a 12 year old girl.
We walked back to the car in silence, and as we pulled away I watched Allison pile into a jeep with Heather and number 22, the beautiful black girl. And now they were accompanied by number 7, the leggy redhead. “Looks like you actually missed out on a five-way,” Kylie said. “Poor little doggie.”
I was so angry that tears were welling in my eyes as I drove home. I hated everything about my little sister. I hated that she was bigger than me and stronger than me and smarter than me. I hated how she constantly bragged and showed off. I hated how she always had the perfect thing to say, I hated how mom and dad treated her like a princess, and I hated that Allison had a girl-crush on her. But most of all I hated how she bullied me and humiliated me. And I knew Kylie well enough to know that she was only going to get worse. I had to do something drastic.
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I do want to say one thing: Kylie being as intelligent as she is, I'm not a fan of. In the Becky Finklestein stories, her being super intelligent fit the context. In this one, however, not so much. Could change as it goes, though.
I disagree with you, in terms that Kylie has shown to be very motivated, she has been shown throughout her life that her focus is second to none, plus being a girl who likes to win, likes to actually crush whoever she is going against, I can definitely see her studying hard to be the best in academics as she is the best in athletics.
As for this latest chapter, really good stuff, I enjoyed it a great deal, obviously Kylie was the hands down winner, despite probably giving up a lot of weight to the heavyweight champion, her size for her height and body type was probably inch for inch bigger, and I would venture to guess more defined, so there was no way anyone was going to take that title away from her. While I don't like how badly Kylie treats Rick, in a lot of ways he deserves it, so I don't feel terribly bad for him. I look forward to more, k+!
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I hope Kylie growth bigger and taller. But i hope she start to growth closer to her brother
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Damn! Great story. I'm really staring to pull for the little guy. Hope he figures out something he's halfway decent at.
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Love the hierarchy of power, with big brother at the absolute bottom. Great to get some measurements as well.
Loving every chapter in this story! :rock:
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Part 1, Chapter 11
Kevin King was a few years older than me, and had gotten kicked out of school in grade eight for getting into too many fights. Now he worked construction and spent nights drinking beer with four of his buddies outside the dirtiest pool hall in town. He recognized me instantly as I walked up. “Hey I know this punk from high school,” he said. “I once gave him a wedgie so bad he limped for a week.”
Kevin and his friends chuckled, so I joined in the joking. “My balls are still lopsided,” I quipped.
They all laughed, and I sat down beside Kevin, trying to act natural, despite the fact that he and his friends looked like neanderthals covered in grease stains. “So what's going on, dude?” he asked. “Let me guess. You want weed? It's $20 for a dime bag, and I need the money up front.”
“No, it's not that,” I said, as I looked around. “Look, this is going to sound crazy, but I need you guys to beat up my little sister. All five of you.”
Kevin's face twisted into a disbelieving smile. “What the hell, man?” he laughed.
“Look, its really complicated,” I said. “But I need her out of the way for la couple of months, so I can inherit some money. So if you can break her arms and her legs, I'll give you $500 apiece.”
Kevin looked to his friends. My mind raced to line up all the lies I would need to tell to explain my request. But as it turns out, I didn't need them. “No prob,” Kevin said. “Money up front, though.”
“I don't have it yet,” I said, going into my wallet. “But I can give you $500 now.”
One of Kevin's friends, a guy in a red shirt who was built like a sumo wrestler, grabbed my hand and took the cash. He counted the money as another guy with a face tattoo dug his hands in my pockets. “Chill out, guys” Kevin said. “The man's here to do business. So how you want this done?”
“It has to look random,” I said. “She walks through St. James Park every Thursday at 7 PM.”
“Okay,” Kevin said. “Thursday it is. Meet us back here with the money at about 7:30 PM.”
As I walked away, I grappled with several conflicting emotions. This was easily the worst thing I had ever done in my life, and I was sure that I could go to jail. But on the other hand, I would be rid of Kylie for a while. I could even focus on my weight training, and as she was laid up in the hospital getting weaker, I could get stronger. Maybe I could even do a steroid cycle, just to make sure.
A couple of days later, I went to St. James Park and hid in the bushes a few yard off the path that Kylie used when she come home from the feminist book club that she attended every Thursday. Kevin and his four friends showed up at 6:55, armed with baseball bats, lead pipes, and axe handles.
Kylie appeared on the trail at 7 sharp, with her hair up in a ponytail and her designer leather backpack. She was wearing a dark blue dress with long sleeves and a hem that ended just below her calves, and her sandals showed toenails painted the exact same color. With her muscular body hidden away, she looked like normal schoolgirl, albeit an unusually pretty and confident one.
I expected Kevin and his friends to balk at attacking her, since she looked like a normal little girl, but they instantly formed a circle a around her. “Looks like you're lost, little girl,” Kevin said. “You should be careful in the woods. Don't you know that all kinds of dangerous things be in the woods?”
If Kylie was sacred, it wasn't showing. “Don't you know how to speak English?” she retorted.
“Oh you're a clever little bitch ain't you?” Kevin said. “I'm going to like kicking your ass.”
Kylie looked around at the five large, ugly men who surrounded her. “Hold on a second,” she said, stepping out of her sandals as she began to unfasten her dress. “I need to take my dress off.”
Kevin laughed. “Are we gonna get a strip-tease?” he said. “Gonna show us your training bra?”
“Not exactly,” Kylie said. “I like this dress, and I don't want to get your blood all over it.”
Kylie peeled her dress off and tossed it onto a nearby bench, along with her sandals and pack, and now stood barefoot wearing only a white strapless bra and tiny white panties. As she stretched her arms and legs, her tanned sculpted body rippling with every move, Kevin and his buddies looked at each other in disbelief. “What are you some kind of midget she-male?” Kevin asked.
“Nope,” Kylie said, a confident smile spreading across her face as she cracked her knuckles. “I'm just a little girl who's lost in the woods. A little girl with big muscles. And a bad temper.”
Kylie peeked over her right shoulder at the man with a face tattoo who stood a few feet behind her, brandishing a bicycle chain. Then without warning she sprang into the air, launching herself backward like a torpedo. Time seemed to slow as she twisted in midair, her gymnastically trained body tense with muscular power and her ponytail flapping in the wind. The man with the face tattoo had time to blink once as her left arm coiled like a steel spring, and she clenched her hand into a fist. He was halfway through a second blink when Kylie's small girly fist crashed into his face, sending a spray of blood and teeth across the grass. As he fell to the ground, Kylie tucked her legs and landed perfectly on her feet, standing beside him as his eyes flickered in and out of consciousness.
There was a brief moment of silence, then Kevin screamed and rushed forward, baseball bat at the ready, with his three remaining friends behind him. Kylie was motionless as the men ran toward her, but despite her calm demeanor I could see that her young muscular body was tight and tense, like an animal waiting to strike. Kevin was the first to reach her, and he took a mighty swing at his head with the bat, while a man with red hair and freckles followed behind, ready to swing a length of pipe.
My blood ran cold. I asked him to beat Kylie up, not to kill her, but he was trying to knock her head clean off. I was gripped with anxiety as I agonized over how I would have to tell mom and dad that I was so jealous of Kylie that I had her killed. And how would I explain it to the police?
I didn't have to worry. Kylie launched into a back handspring, and Kevin's swing sailed harmlessly above her as she curled backward. The red haired man's swing sailing harmlessly below her feet as she planted her hands and raised her legs into the air. Both men were imbalanced by their swings, and fought to steady themselves as Kylie completed the back handspring and landed perfectly on her feet, as I had seen her do dozens of times when I got dragged to her gymnastics meets.
But this time Kylie didn't raise her arms upon landing. This time she exploded into a sprint, streaking toward the red haired man. She reached him in less than a second, and drove her thick shoulder into his stomach, lifting him off his feet with the force of her tackle. I had seen her do that dozens of times in football games, de-cleating guys twice her size as mom and dad cheered her on.
But this time she didn't stop to gloat over her victim. This time, she kept running, carrying the red haired man like a sack of flour as she ran toward an oak tree a few yards away, followed closely by a man with a green baseball hat who was holding an axe handle. The red haired man screamed as Kylie slammed his back into the tree with enough force to send a shower of acorns falling to the ground, as the man with the green hat wound up and swung his axe handle at Kylie's back. But, as if she had a sixth sense, Kylie pirouetted delicately away from the swing, and the axe handle crashed into the red haired man's ribs. I had seen her do that dozens of times, at every ballet recital that mom and dad dragged me to, as the audience cheered her balance and grace.
But this time, Kylie didn't flow languidly into another dance step. This time she spun directly toward the man with the green hat, her left arm uncoiling like a whip, and drove her fist into his ribs. He screamed and buckled as if he had been hit by a cannonball. Then, as his head drooped down, Kylie swung her right hand upward with such force that I could hear the whooshing of the air from yards away. Kylie's uppercut struck with such force his body sailed backward, his mouth spraying blood from his ruined jaw. He landed on the ground feet away, blood splattered on everything around him except for Kylie, whose golden brown skin, shining blonde hair, and bright white underwear remained completely unblemished. Kylie's face and body language were similarly untroubled as Kevin ran toward her and swung his baseball bat again, this time aiming squarely at her torso.
But this time, Kylie didn't move an inch. She stood in place, completely motionless and completely at ease, her muscular young body glowing in the fading sunlight, as if she were a bronze statue. Kevin's bat crashed into Kylie's shredded midsection with a loud thump, but her muscular young body remained unmoved, as if she were a bronze statue. Kevin pulled the bat back again and swung with all his might, this time striking Kylie on her musclebound chest. Once again, Kylie stood motionless and stone-faced, her blue eyes locked on Kevin, who was visibly panicking as he raised the bat overhead, screaming as he swung straight down at Kylie's head. The bat was only inches from Kylie's face when her arms shot up in the air, making an 'x' above her head, the bat slamming against her meaty forearms. “You should be careful in the woods,” Kylie said as she plucked the bat from Kevin's hands. “There all kinds of dangerous things in the woods. Like me, for instance.”
A thin smile spread across Kylie's face as she snapped the baseball bat like a twig and tossed it aside. Kevin and I both gulped as she cracked her neck. A couple minutes ago I was scared because I thought that five grown men with weapons might hurt my little sister. Now I was scared because I knew that they couldn't. Now I was scared about what she would do to them.
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And he's done it. The title and her overall behaviour with her brother help put things in perspective, but that's the kind of things that makes me not root for the guy. God forbid that they tell her who's behind this, or worse, that he intervenes trying to stop her from killing them.
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Wow, just another great chapter to this already amazing story, I wonder, have you left out parts of her back story where she was a black belt in several martial arts? Also, the part where she was a player on a football team, what kind? Certainly not high school, as once again, this would've been mentioned a ton earlier that she, a 12 year old girl, was already in high school, and that would've made a big impression on me, because that's another thing that I absolutely love seeing. But even still, I love the idea of a girl playing only against boys and not only winning, but dominating, so I hope there is a lot more on that. Getting back to other stuff, though, just an incredible way to show Kylie is amazing, beating 5 much bigger, older guys who all had weapons, while barely even breaking a sweat. You just keep coming up with some of the best scenes in this genre, and I really can't wait to read more of Kylie's awesomeness! k+!
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:cool2:
Pretty great story so far. Enjoying a return to the bitchy, dominant girl dynamic. If she's not quite as big as Becky, she's every bit the natural dom! Kind of makes me want to read a time-skip so we can enjoy the way you write really big girls so well. Kylie is great though, and I'm enjoying all the layers your weaving into this story. Excellent work as usual.
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Part 1, Chapter 12
Kevin opened his mouth to speak, maybe to express his amazement or maybe to beg for mercy. But before he could say a single word Kylie bent forward, hinging at the waist as she whipped her right leg into the air behind her while balancing on her left, executing a scorpion kick so perfect it could have been in a kung-fu movie. Kevin was out the second Kylie's bare foot smashed into his face. Kylie held the pose for just a second, smugly satisfied with her power, balance and flexibility.
As Kylie brought her leg back to the ground, her eyes fell on the fifth man, the man in the red shirt with the body of a sumo wrestler, who had been ambling after her as she zipped around the park brutalizing his friends. He was so slow she could have outrun him easily. She could have run to the park bench, gotten her things, and run home before he got anywhere near her.
But Kylie wasn't running away, because Kylie never ran away. Instead she pretended to ignore the approaching giant, and examined her own biceps as she flexed them over and over. She smiled approvingly at their bulging peaks and the sculpted definition of the delts, pecs, and triceps that framed them. “You real strong for your size, little girl,” he growled. “Like an ant. Well I crush ants!”
With that, the enormous man grabbed one of the nearby metal picnic tables and tore it from its base, sending bolts flying. He rumbled toward Kylie, who was still admiring her physique, and swatted the table down on Kylie, as if he were trying to squash a bug. At the last second Kylie's arms shot up, her tiny hands braced against the table, slowing it to a halt inches from her head. The big man pushed harder, and Kylie dug her heels in and set her jaw, every muscle in her body quivering with tension. The big man roared as he leaned into the table, forcing Kylie down into a crouch. Kylie's body with beading with sweat now, and her muscles began to swell with effort, exhibiting muscle shapes and striations that made her look more like an anatomy chart than a 12 year old girl. “You're pretty strong,” Kylie said, her teeth gritted with effort. “But not... strong... enough!”
Then, with a high-pitched girly shout, Kylie exploded upward, her legs and arms extending like pistons, forcing the enormous man off his feet and into the air as the table flew from his hands. As the big man landed with a thud that sent up a cloud of dust and leaves, Kylie rolled her shoulders.
The big man struggled to get up, battling his own enormous girth as Kylie strode casually toward him, her muscles throbbing with strength, and her tanned skin glistening in the sun. She raised her foot overhead in a standing split, admiring the incredible definition of her hamstring for just a second before she brought her heel to the ground in a blur, striking the giant on his jaw. He spasmed, then slumped into a pile, knocked unconscious with a single blow from Kylie's tiny size 4 foot.
Kylie snorted dismissively as she brushed a loose strand of hair from her face and walked toward the park bench that held her dress, sandals, and backpack. I couldn't believe my eyes. I knew that Kylie was strong. I had seen her demonstrate her strength time and time again, often using me as a prop, but the ease with which she overpowered 5 grown men was horrifying. I always though that one day I would be stronger than her, so that I wouldn't have to live in fear of her bullying. But the past three minutes had dispelled that hope once and for all. There was nothing I could do to stop her.
Kylie slid her dress on, but struggled as she tried to slide her arms into the sleeves. She frowned as she slowly tugged at the fabric, which was struggling to contain her pumped, sweaty muscles. Finally she squeezed into the dress and fastened it, smiling now as she saw the way it clung to her muscular body. In the fading sunlight, her abs were plainly visible beneath the fabric of the dress, as well as the swell of her triceps and the rocky landscape of her muscle-packed back. Kylie took out her phone and held it up, making a peace sign as she took a selfie. Then she slipped on her sandals and her backpack as she looked around, surveying her victory.
It was a surreal sight. Lying broken on the ground in pools of their own blood were five grown men with weapons and histories of violent behavior. And, standing proudly among them looking fresh as a daisy, was the 12 year old girl that had single-handedly demolished them using only her bare hands and feet. “That was a pretty good workout,” Kylie said, her girly voice ringing through the silent clearing as she turned toward home. “But I better not see you guys again. I was just playing around this time, but next time I might get angry. And when I get angry, it's like a bomb goes off inside me, and I go next level. I go next level in ways you can't even imagine.”
I stayed hidden for minutes after Kylie left, terrified that she might see me, and figure out that I was behind the attack. When I got home mom and dad were in the kitchen, gushing over Kylie as always. “Oh my perfect little girl!” mom said. “I'm so glad we let you use the basement as a gym.”
“Guess what, Rick,” my dad said. “Your little sister is going to pay off our mortgage.”
“How is she doing that?” I asked, even though I didn't really want to know.
“Don't you remember the bodybuilding competition, Rick?” Kylie asked. “Don't you remember the line of nutrition and apparel companies lined up to offer me sponsorships? I'm a millionaire, Rick.”
Inside, I burned with anger and jealousy. Now Kylie was rich, too. That was just one more thing she could rub in my face. “My perfect little princess is a millionaire at age 12!” mom said.
“Oh this is just the beginning,” Kylie said. “I went viral, and soon I'll be Insta**** famous. I'll get interviewed pretty much whenever anyone wants to talk about women in sports, I'll have my own chain of gyms and my own supplement line. I'm going to be a billionaire by the time I'm 18.”
“You said you didn't want to be on social media,” I said. “You said that like three months ago.”
“No, I said I wasn't ready to go on social media yet,” Kylie said, taking out her phone. “You know how I am Rick, I have to dominate everything I do. And now I'm dominating Insta, too. Check it out. My first photo already has over 100,000 likes.”
We all huddled around Kylie's phone as she showed us a selfie of her in her green bikini, flexing her bulging bicep as she cradled her bodybuilding trophy with her free hand. The text below it read. 'I'm grateful to all the people who helped me become the youngest National Junior Women's Bodybuilding champion in history.' and was followed by hashtags for a dozen different supplement and apparel companies. And just as she had said, she had 105,000 likes, and also 70,000 of followers. “Kylie, your muscles are the cat's pajamas,” mom gasped. “When did you get so big?”
“Kylie, I don't like you wearing such revealing outfits,” dad said sternly.
“Don't tell me what I can't do, dad,” Kylie growled. “You know I hate that, so don't do it again.”
Then Kylie flicked to her next photo, the selfie from the park taken just minutes ago. It already had over 20,000 likes. The caption read: 'Foreground: a girl so jacked you can see her abs through her dress. Background: 5 guys who just learned a hard lesson about girl power.'
“Kylie what are all those men doing on the ground?” dad asked.
“They're being unconscious,” Kylie said flatly. “I guess whoever decided that they should attack me in the park didn't know that I have black belts in Karate, Krav Maga and Silat.”
“Since when?” I asked, more out of fear than disbelief.
“Since last year when I stopped playing softball, soccer and basketball to focus on lifting and fighting,” Kylie smiled. “Turns out I'm really good at beating people up. But you already knew that.”
“Oh my goodness, Kylie,” mom said. “Is that blood all over the ground?”
“It's not mine,” Kylie said. “You can see the red really well in this light, though. But the interesting part is this little patch of blue in the bushes. That's exactly the same color as Rick's shirt.”
My blood ran cold as Kylie fixed me with her steely gaze. I remembered the way she knocked grown men out with a single punch, the way she shrugged off blows from a baseball bat, and the way she overpowered a man literally three times her size. I didn't want to imagine what she might do to me once we were alone. I had to make sure that mom and dad didn't leave before I did.
“Kylie that dress is far too tight,” dad said. “I don't want you wearing that in public.”
“That's two times that you've pissed me off,” Kylie barked at dad. “Don't get to number three.”
“That dress is really tight,” mom said nervously, trying to defuse the situation. “Maybe we should go shopping for a bigger dress, before your muscles burst right out like the Incredible Hulk.”
Bile rose in my throat. It wasn't enough that mom was fawning over Kylie, now she was going to buy her a new dress when she should be scolding her for mouthing off to dad. I was angry, so I lashed out. “That only happens on TV, mom,” I grumbled. “Besides, she's not really that big.”
Without looking up from her phone, Kylie raised her free arm and flexed. The dark blue fabric of her dress split like tissue paper, revealing her peaked bicep, swelling tricep and bulging forearm as the shredded fabric of the sleeve hung from her shoulder. “What did you just say, Rick?” she asked.
“Oh my goodness, Kylie!” mom exclaimed. “I never dreamed a girl could have muscles like that. Say, could you show your mom how to pump some iron? We could be a team. Wouldn't it be cool if your old mom had some muscles, too?”
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:cool2:
Pretty great story so far. Enjoying a return to the bitchy, dominant girl dynamic. If she's not quite as big as Becky, she's every bit the natural dom! Kind of makes me want to read a time-skip so we can enjoy the way you write really big girls so well. Kylie is great though, and I'm enjoying all the layers your weaving into this story. Excellent work as usual.
Well, it's only Part 1...
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Another great chapter, well worth waiting for, Kylie earning black belts in 3 martial arts in a single year is awesome, I wonder how effortless it was for her to break her first board? While I would love to hear about her success in other sports, I'm still hung up on when, where and how she played football against guys? But also, I'm digging the fact that she's a millionaire and a pro bodybuilder, at the tender age of 12, if the Miss Olympia contest was still a thing, she could win it as a 13 year old, hell, depending on when the contest was held, before she even turned 13. I think her dad should take the hint, Kylie is the breadwinner, she paid the mortgage, she has made more in a week then her dad did in his entire life, she pretty much runs the family now. Her mom seems to get it though. As for her being a billionaire by 18, I don't think she'll even wait that long, not if she was challenged. I think 16 is more like it. Anyway, I just adore this story, and I really can't wait for more! k++!
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I love what I'm seeing so far.
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Part 1, Chapter 13
Kylie looked at my mom and shrugged “I guess,” she said. “But we're not a team. If you agree to bring me protein shakes and help me change plates, I'll give you permission to use my gym for an hour a day, and I'll give you a few pointers. But you have to follow my rules.”
Mom clapped her hands delightedly. “Oh this is going to be so fun!” she squealed.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” dad asked.
“Oh hush,” mom said. “When I was a girl I was quite the athlete, at least before my bosom got too big for me to run or jump comfortably. And quite frankly, lugging these J cup breasts around is killing my back. I could probably stand to get a little stronger.”
"You know you're not as young as you used to be,” Dad said.
“Well then maybe I'll just get a breast reduction,” mom said. “Would you prefer that? Nuzzling up against tiny little A cups every night?”
“Fine, fine,” dad said. “You can do whatever you want. I just don't want you get hurt.”
“She'll be fine,” Kylie said, setting down her phone and tearing her ruined dress from her body, revealing the strapless bra and tiny white panties that she wore during her rampage in the park.
“Oh goodness,” mom said, covering her mouth. “You just have muscles on muscles.”
“Kylie,” dad said angrily. “I thought I told you not to buy that pair of underwear. Girls your age shouldn't wear revealing underwear like that.”
A scowl spread across Kylie's face as she turned to face our dad. “That's three, dad!” she growled. “Didn't I tell you not to get to three? And didn't we talk like a million times about body positivity? About how women shouldn't be ashamed of their bodies?”
“Listen here young lady,” dad said, wagging his finger. “I don't care how big your muscles are, how many social media doodads you have, or what sort of feminist nonsense you're spouting this week. You are under my roof, and you will do as I say!”
Kylie's blue eyes burned like fire. “You don't tell me what I can't do!” she yelled.
Then, in a blur of speed, Kylie drove her fist into dad's stomach, and he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Mom flew to him instantly, rubbing his back. “Oh my goodness dear,” she said. “Why would you make our perfect little muscle princess mad? You're lucky she didn't kill you.”
“I pulled my punch so I wouldn't hurt him too bad,” Kylie said matter-of-factly. “But he's really soft and weak. You should probably take him to the hospital.”
Mom helped dad to his feet as he whimpered in pain. “Yelling at our perfect little muscle princess,” she scolded. “You should be ashamed. And after she agreed to pay off our mortgage.”
Just then the doorbell rang, and as mom and dad left the house, Allison entered.
As the door shut behind mom and dad, I felt a tingling fear creep into my heart. Kylie's eyes slowly locked on me, and my blood ran cold. She knew what I did, she was going to beat me within an inch of my life, and she was going to make a big boastful show out of it now that Allison was here to watch. Allison froze as soon as she saw Kylie in her underwear “Kylie, you're so awesome,” Allison said. “You boyfriend is, like, the luckiest guy in the world.”
“I don't have a boyfriend,” Kylie said as she went for a protein shake. “I don't like boys.”
“Oh, you will soon enough,” Allison said with a smile. “I remember when I was your age-”
“No,” Kylie said, interrupting Allison. “I mean that I don't like boys, because I like girls.”
Allison's eyes opened wide at Kylie's statement. “You like... girls?” Allison asked haltingly.
“Yeah,” Kylie said, draining her protein shake in one gulp.
“What kind of girls do you like?” Allison asked bashfully. “What's your type?”
Kylie tossed the empty bottle over her shoulder into the bin. “Let's see,” she said as she began counting on her fingers. “Tall, red hair, green eyes, big boobs, fit, confident, sexually aggressive. And I especially like it when they have wimpy dorky boyfriends that I can steal them away from.”
Allison blushed, her toes turning inward like an embarrassed schoolgirl. I was boiling with anger. All the things I hated about Kylie had been simmering inside me for weeks, and when she started hitting on Allison, they boiled over. My rage took over, and I drew back my arm and with all my might I launched a punch at my little sister's smug beautiful face. Wind whistled as my fist sailed through the air, until it was stopped cold by the palm of Kylie's hand. She hadn't flinched, or even blinked, she simply stopped my punch as if it were a spitball or a flea. Then she squeezed. I dropped to my knees as pain shot through my hand and forearm. “Really Rick?” Allison laughed. “I mean, what did you think you were going to do? Did you seriously think you could beat up your little sister?”
“Did you forget how strong I am, little doggie?” Kylie asked, flexing her pecs, making them roll and pop under her tiny white bra. “Am I going to have to make you measure my muscles again?”
“You got to measure Kylie's muscles?” Allison asked me, as if I was in any condition to answer when I was paralyzed in pain. “That's so cool. Kylie, I'll measure your muscles too, if you want.”
“Oh, I know you will,” Kylie chuckled. “But right I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure Kylie,” Allison said. “Anything you want.”
“Go upstairs for about 5 minutes,” Kylie said, releasing my hand from her bone-crushing grip. “Me and my puny little big brother need to have a discussion about respect.”
Allison obeyed instantly, running upstairs like a gazelle, and leaving me alone with my musclebound kid sister. “So what happened today, Rick?” Kylie asked, walking over to block my escape from the kitchen. “Were you just spying on me, or did you get those five guys to attack me.”
“I-I don't know what you're talking about,” I stammered, shrinking away from my little sister as she began to flex her muscles, starting with her thick, shapely legs. “I was at Joey's and we-”
“Joey is in Canada with his family this week,” Kylie said as she she started running her hands along her perfect abdominal muscles and her sculpted obliques. “Want to try a different lie?”
“I didn't do anything, Kylie,” I whimpered. “I promise. I would never try to hurt you.”
“I believe you, Rick.” Kylie said as she began to spread her lats, making them flare outward like a cobra hood. “You know you couldn't hurt me. I mean, you of all people should know that there's no one bigger, stronger, or tougher than me. You know that this body is unstoppable. You know that I'm a goddess.”
A goddess? That was too much. The anger and jealousy that had been boiling in my gut finally erupted, and I began to shout. “You're not a goddess!” I screamed. “You're just a spoiled brat who got every advantage that life could possibly offer! Oh and guess what? There are people with bigger muscles than you. They compete in a thing called 'Mr. Olympia' and you'll never be as big as them! And there are people stronger than you. They compete in a thing called the World's Strongest Man, and you'll never be as strong as them! And there are people tougher than you. They compete in a thing called the Ultimate Fighting Championships, and you'll never be as tough as them.”
Kylie's eyes were wide open and burning with anger as her nostrils flared and her face turned red. “No one is better than me,” she hissed. “No one.”
“Yeah, actually there are people better than you, Kylie,” I said, savoring the angry words that poured out of my mouth. And you know what? They're all guys. Mister Olympia. The World's Strongest Man. And having 16 inch biceps and benching 300 pounds is nothing to them. Nothing!”
“Rick,” Kylie barked, “you're starting to make me angry! Is that what you want?”
I didn't care. “At the end of the day you're just a girl,” I said. “You're going to stop getting bigger and stop getting stronger, and you're never going to get close to being the biggest or the strongest!”
Kylie took a deep breath and pulled herself up to her full height, all 4'11” of it. She was so mad she was trembling. I was sure that she was going to kill me right then and there, but I didn't care. I was right, and she knew it.
But instead of hitting me or putting me in a headlock, she turned on her heels and marched toward the basement door. “No one is better than me,” she growled. “No one!”
“You can say that as much as you want,” I shouted after her, emboldened by my victory. “You're just a girl, and you're never going to beat the guys. You just flat out can't do it!”
Kylie turned just as she reached the basement door, her teeth clenched and her eyes wild with anger. “You don't tell me what I can't do!” she yelled. “I can do anything I want to do!”
The door slammed behind her, and in a few seconds the sound of heavy metal drifted up from the basement, punctuated by the sound of clinking weights. But as loud as it was, I slept like a baby that night, secure in the knowledge that my bratty little sister had limits. Girls could never be as big and strong as guys and that she knew it. She wasn't so perfect after all.
TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2
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What did her dad think he was doing, when she agreed to pay the mortgage on the house, it was no longer her dad's roof, it was her roof, so she makes the rules, she says what goes. Her dad is much like Rick, stuck in the old way of doing things, where men were in control based only on the fact that they were men and that's the way it had been for thousands of years, but Kylie has shown beyond a shadow of a doubt that she's better than the average man, and now, I'm thinking she's going to show that she can be better than the best of men, and I don't think it's going to take her very long to get there. My question is what's going to happen to Allison, she was sent up into Kylie's room and Kylie was going to get there in 5 minutes, but I think her workout is going to last much longer than that. And Rick, I think you're not going to be sleeping very well for a long time soon enough. I look forward to part 2, grbaclig, you have me hooked once again. k+!
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Will Kylie win the biggest Man strong contest with 14?
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Yessss... That is a great setup for a part 2 I'm definitely looking forward to. Excellent writing as usual and this one is turned out to be a well-rounded story of a truly terrible little titan. >:D
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My hope is that there isn't a huge time skip for part 2, but I can understand if there is, it's hard to accomplish a huge upgrade in muscles and strength in just a couple weeks or months, even though I wish that wasn't the case. But I am very much looking forward to part 2, whenever it is taking place. k+!
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we are waiting for part 2!!!
k+
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Part 2, Chapter 14
It was the first Saturday in August, and I woke up with a smile on my face for the first time in months. This summer had been the best time of my life. I was one of the popular kids in town, thanks mostly to having Allison around me. She was the hottest and most popular girl in Fairlawn, turning heads and charming people wherever we went, and I was cool just by because I was with her. As if being super hot wasn't enough, she could get us into bars just by flirting with the doormen even though we were underage, and she could get us into movies and sporting events for free just by showing a little bit of cleavage. Allison and I were spending lots of time together, and although she was still really domineering sometimes, she was also quick to shower affection on me when she was in a good mood. She even let me keep some of my money for myself.
To make things even better, I hardly saw Kylie at all. She gave up all her summer sports to focus on lifting, sod she was working out 3 times a day and taking meals in the basement. We still saw each other in the kitchen sometimes when she came up for water or protein shakes, but it was always uneventful. She was always in her 'silly boy, weights are for girls' sweatsuit, she was always dripping with sweat, and she always ignored me. I couldn't have been happier.
That morning, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes, I saw that Allison was sitting on my bed in a black string bikini that was so skimpy that it looked like three eye patches and some dental floss. Her beach bag was at her feet, and she had a dirty smile on her face as she took her sunglasses off. The way that she slouched over emphasized the curves of her full hips, tiny waist and heavy-hanging tits, making me instantly hard. “Hey lover,” she purred, “how about a little sex on the beach?”
She didn't have to tell me twice. I grabbed my keys and threw on some trunks and t-shirt, and soon we were running down the stairs. My mom was cleaning up around the front door, and her eyes bugged out when she saw Allison. “Oh my,” she said. “You're certainly... um... dressed for summer.”
Allison smiled. “This is my favorite swimsuit,” she said. “I've had it since I was 13.”
“Oh my,” mom said. “Well you might want to go up a size. Or three.”
“No way,” Allison laughed, swishing her hips and shaking her tits, “I look hot as fuck in this.”
“Such ugly language from such a pretty girl,” mom said disapprovingly.
Then we heard a door slam upstairs, and a few seconds later Kylie was walking down the stairs in a baggy black sweatshirt and tight black yoga pants. I couldn't have been less happy to see anyone, but Allison clearly felt differently. Kylie had grown a couple of inches since Allison saw her last, and her features were starting to look less like a pretty little girl and more like a beautiful young woman. Allison gazed at Kylie with doe-eyed infatuation, despite Kylie's obvious lack of interest in her. “Hey girl!” she said, trying to overcome her obvious excitement. “How are you doing? It's been months since I saw you. It's me, Allison. You know, Tits McGee.”
“Yeah, I'm not going to call you that anymore,” Kylie said as she descended the stairs.
“Why not?” Allison asked sadly, almost as if she regretted losing the nickname.
“Because that name doesn't fit you anymore,” Kylie said. “Now that I have these.”
Jaws dropped as Kylie peeled off her sweatshirt to reveal breasts the size of cantaloupes, perfectly tanned and erupting out of a white tank top like golden brown water balloons falling out of a cotton sack. “Oh. My. God,” Allison gasped.
“I'm going to call you Fleabites now,” Kylie said. “Since your boobs look like tiny fleabites compared to mine.”
If Allison was hurt by the Kylie's teasing, she didn't show it. She was busy staring slackjawed at Kylie's overflowing cleavage. “Kylie...” she said, “your boobs are... they're... they're amazing.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said, looking down at her chest and smiling. “At first I was worried they would overshadow my pecs. Then I realized that nothing could do that. Because my pecs are huge.”
It was hard to argue with her. Standing in black yoga pants and a white tank top, Kylie was bigger than she was a couple of months ago when she won the National Junior Women's bodybuilding competition. A lot bigger. Her arms looked the be at least an inch bigger around, with vein-streaked forearms and biceps that bulged dramatically even when relaxed. But it was her pectorals that stole the show. They jutted outward from her collarbones like shelves, they probably measured nearly two feet across from shoulder to shoulder, and they were at least two inches thick.
Once she saw us staring, Kylie clasped her little hands together and flexed. Her pecs erupted outward, straining her tank top and rippling with striations as her boobs wobbled heavily with each muscular undulation. Allison squeezed my hand super hard, as if she were trying to hold herself back from doing something crazy, and I could hear her breathing haltingly.
Mom couldn't have been more proud that Kylie had inherited her gigantic bustline. “That's my girl!” mom said. “Heavens Kylie, you certainly developed in a hurry. My bosoms weren't nearly that big when I was your age. Of course, I didn't have muscles like yours when I was your age, either.”
I was angry at Kylie for making fun of Allison, and for hitting on Allison, so I lashed out. “You obviously got implants,” I mumbled. “You can't be that lean and still have boobs. Boobs are body fat.”
Kylie rolled her eyes as she hooked her thumbs under the straps of her tank top, and Allison squeezed my hand so hard I thought it was going to snap like a twig. I closed my eyes as Kylie peeled her shirt off. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was look at my muscular little sister's gigantic boobs. “Take a good look,” Kylie said proudly. “Do they look fake? See how they jiggle?”
“Cut it out, Kylie,” I said, clamping my eyes closed as hard as I could.
“What's wrong, Rick,” Kylie jeered. “Are you afraid of my tits? Are you afraid that I'm going to use them to beat you up? Or are you just intimidated by female sexuality? Or maybe you're afraid that my body will turn you on, which will make you more of a pathetic weirdo than you already are.”
“Come on Kylie, cut it out,” I pleaded. “This is crazy!”
“It's crazy how hot my big natural tits are,” Kylie said as I continued to squeeze my eyes closed. “Hey Fleabites, give me your hands. Now tell me, do these feel fake to you?”
I heard Allison breathing heavy. “No,” she said weakly. “They're real. And they're perfect.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said. “You can stop squeezing them now.”
“I don't think I can,” Allison giggled. “They're just so... awesome. I can't let go. Ow ow ow that hurts. OK you win. I'll let go.”
“You can open your eyes now, Rick,” Kylie jeered. “The big scary boobies are gone.”
I opened my eyes as Kylie finished putting on her tank top. “You've gotten a lot bigger since I last saw you Kylie,” Allison said. “And I don't just mean your breasts. Your muscles look epic.”
“I know,” Kylie said, casually flexing a bicep the size of a grapefruit, and smiling at its thickness. “My biceps are 17 inches now. Soon they'll be bigger around than my waist.”
I wanted to tell Kylie how ridiculous that was. How it wasn't anatomically possible for anyone, especially not a 13 year old girl, to have arms bigger than their waist. But the last thing I wanted right now was a confrontation with Kylie. I wanted her to go away, so Allison and I could go to the beach.
Allison clearly felt different. “Kylie?” Allison asked meekly. “Will you teach me to lift?”
“No,” Kylie said as Allison's face fell. “I'm busy teaching mom. Besides, you're already hot.”
Allison closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Kylie sauntered past us and into the kitchen, and I rushed us out the door as fast as I could, before Kylie had a chance to change her mind about teaching Allison to lift.
Once we got to the beach Allison and I found a secluded spot and started making out. But Allison was miles away. “Rick?” she asked me absentmindedly as I kissed her supple breasts, stroking her curvaceous thighs, “What do you think Kylie meant when she said that I was hot?”
“I don't know,” I sighed with exasperation. “Probably nothing. You're just super hot.”
“Yeah,” Allison said, pushing my hands away from her body. “But what do think she meant?”
I grumbled as I sat up to conceal my erection, which was fading every second that we talked about my little sister. “She probably meant that she was helping mom work out because mom's gotten kind of fat over the past few years,” I said. “But you're super hot, so you don't need her help.”
“Yeah,” Allison sighed. “I guess that makes sense. Still... I wonder...”
Then all of a sudden Allison's phone lit up, and the ringtone Lady Marmalade played. I saw that it was Heather the bodybuilder calling her, and Allison answered instantly. A few seconds later, she was packing up. “What the hell?” I asked. “You're the one that wanted sex on the beach.”
“I know,” Allison said. “Let's meet at the mall tomorrow instead.”
As we went back to the car, I grumbled to myself. Allison was in a good mood today, friendly, open and loving. I hoped that her good mood lasted until tomorrow.
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Yay another chapter i expect Kylie gets taller to be more intimidated
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Yay another chapter i expect Kylie gets taller to be more intimidated
Personally, I hope that doesn't happen, as I like my muscle girls to be shorter.
Once again, what an incredible, epic chapter, Kylie has really blossomed in the couple of months in between. I like that she now has tits that completely overshadow Allison's, despite her being older, taller, and quite gifted there herself. I look forward to seeing how strong Kylie has become since the last time we've seen her! k+!
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I know it’s not typically your thing, but since you had Kylie mention her body turning Rick on I very much hope you continue in that direction. Not necessarily into the incest thing but the idea that Rick is attracted to the person who is making his life miserable would be a fun thread to explore. And really fun to read too 😏
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Yay! Kylie surpassed Allison in bust department! :letsparty:
But how does she compare to her mom? Needs to be observed ))))
Though, there is something off with Kylie's measurements: chest 3 feet wide us a bit too much for her size, I believe.
Awesome story in general!
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Though, there is something off with Kylie's measurements: chest 3 feet wide us a bit too much for her size, I believe.
Awesome story in general!
You are correct. That was a mistake. I have updated the chapter.
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Uh-oh. She's got tits now. And they're probably only getting bigger from there! I love where this is going, although seventeen inches isn't true Grbaclig territory yet, she packs it all into a wonderful package and I can't wait for more!
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Rick's question about how she could have huge muscles and breasts is a legitimate one, even if he didn't phrase it the best way.
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I love your story! To me, it's right up there with MagnusMagneto's magnum opus "Big Things Come in Little Packages" and spoonmaster's "Atypical Vacation".
Great narrative, although I'm not a fan of evil supergirls, I can understand that Kylie, being so far ahead of everyone, sees everyone else as worthless as ants. It can make someone exasperated and volatile, but it's still some distance from being a tyrant. What made her become an evil bully? The upside is that her being that way, it's easier to write her going all out and really showing off her strength, invulnerability and endurance by destroying people and things, so I'm not complaining...
Thank you very much! I hope to see more chapters soon!
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Honestly, I think that in grbaclig's case it would be more surprising if Kylie will have a change of heart and became kinder :)
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Part 2, Chapter 15
It was the first Sunday of September, and my dad had left town for a business trip. The autumn was off to a lousy start. Allison had been spending less and less time with me, and she was more likely to be mean and domineering than to be kind and affectionate. But at least she still let me touch her and have sex with her. My senior year classes were a lot harder than my junior year classes, and although I was still getting good grades, I was starting to worry about college.
The only good thing about autumn was that Kylie had tested out of 8th grade, and spent most of her time lifting at her new place. She had found a loophole in the local laws that allowed minors to buy property, and she converted an old cathedral on the outskirts of town into a state of the art gym. She lived on the top floors, which she had converted into a living space almost as an afterthought.
I just finished telling some neighborhood boys that Kylie wasn't around. Kylie never had any interest in boys, and I had to turn away her unwanted suitors most of my life. I expected the boys to stop coming around once Kylie started showing her muscles on Insta****, but for some reason they still flocked to our house. Maybe it's because it had been months since she posted a picture, and they forgot she has muscles like a dude, I thought to myself as I shut the door.
Then my mom came downstairs in her silk robe and reading glasses. “Richard,” she said, “I'm going to lay out by the pool. “Those brats aren't hanging around the yard to peep on me are they?”
“No mom,” I said, as the boys who called on Kylie walked to the end of the block.
Mom's paranoia was well-founded. All the women on her side of the family were well endowed. In fact, attending a family reunion with her was like going to a strip club. Mom was no exception, and her huge breasts made her something of a local celebrity. My friends always tried to sneak peeks at her when she bent over, and dad had to put in a seven foot tall fence to stop the local boys from ogling her when she laid out by the pool. “Oh one more thing,” she said as she opened the back door. “I need to you to vacuum and mop the whole house. The girls from the Hot Moms Book Club are coming over, and I want everything to be clean and neat.”
“I can't mom,” I said. “I have to meet Allison at the park in like 15 minutes.”
“Well I guess you're going to have to be late,” mom said as she walked outside.
I couldn't be late though. Allison expected me to be on time, and if I wasn't, she would punish me. If I was lucky she would just withhold sex, but if I was unlucky she would beat me. When mom went outside, I took a shower, put on some nice clothes and combed my hair. I was ready to sneak out to the car and drive away when I heard her voice call out. “Rick, I don't hear the vacuum going,” she said. “I hope you're not trying to sneak out without doing your chores.”
I didn't have time to negotiate with mom. If I didn't leave right now I was going to be late. I sped down the hallway, but mom was standing at the end of the hall in her bikini and reading glasses with her hands on her hips, blocking my way. And she was ripped. My whole life mom had been a little on the chunky side, and she had gotten a little fatter every year. But after a few weeks of working out with Kylie, she was sporting rounded shoulders, cellulite-free thighs, and six pack abs that women half her age would be jealous of. “I have to go mom,” I said, pushing my way past her, my mind swimming with memories of all the times Allison had punished me for being late in the past.
“Of all the nerve!” mom cried.
“Sorry mom,” I said as I grabbed the doorknob. “I really have to go.”
Then my shoulders exploded with pain as my mom dug her fingers into them. “Oh no you don't, young man,” she said. “Not before I teach you a lesson about respecting your mother.”
I pulled away from mom's grip, my trapezius muscles still screaming, and backed into the living room. Mom was right behind me, putting her salt-and-pepper hair up into a ponytail, and displaying biceps the size of lemons as she did. “I'm sorry mom,” I said. “I told Allison-”
“I don't care what you told that little hussy,” mom said as she adjusted her huge, oiled-up boobs, which were slipping out of her bikini top. “You are under my roof and you will obey my rules.”
I turned and ran for the back door, but I didn't get far. Mom zipped past me like Usain Bolt and stood in front of the door, wagging her finger. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed, amazed at her footspeed.
“You watch your mouth while you're in my house young man,” she said, and slapped me.
Her slap hit me like a truck and I fell to the ground, dazed. “What the fuck, mom?” I groaned.
“Now you're using the 'f word' with your own mother?” she nagged as she grabbed me by the collar and lifted me up off the ground until my feet were dangling above the floor. “Richard, I can't believe that I'm saying this to an 18 year old, but I'm going to have to wash your mouth out with soap."
“You can't be serious,” I said. “I'm not a kid anymore mom. You can't push me around.”
“Oh really?” mom asked, dropping me to the floor. “In case you haven't noticed, your little sister taught me how to pump iron. I can push you around as much as I please, mister.”
As I stood up, mom grabbed me around the neck and trapped me in a headlock. Her arm squeezed my neck like a vice as one of her giant breasts rested softly on my head, and she began to stomp toward the hall bathroom, pulling me along with her. “Mom please,” I pleaded.
But despite my protests, we were soon in the bathroom. I heard the sink running, then my mom jammed a bar of soap into my mouth so hard I was afraid she might have knocked some teeth out. “You just keep that soap in there until you learn not to use such dirty language,” mom said. Then the tone of her voice changed from grumpy to bubbly. “Oh will you look at me. I'm quite the dish.”
Mom tilted my head upward for a minute so I could look in the mirror. With her salt-and-pepper hair and reading glasses her face looked like a librarian. But with her lean slender body glistening with oil and her huge breasts falling out of her string bikini, she looked like a cover girl for a fitness magazine. Or a porno mag. “Mom cut it out,” I groaned, as I spit the soap onto the floor.
“Rick honey, take a selfie of your mom while she flexes,” she said as she raised her arm.
“That's not how selfies work, mom,” I said. “You have to take it yourself if-”
My throat closed up as mom tightened her grip. I pulled on her arm trying to free myself, but I couldn't move her a single inch, not even with both hands. “I don't recall asking you for your opinion, mister pottymouth,” she snapped as she popped her oil-covered bicep over and over.
Mom giggled as she continued to watch herself in the mirror. Her abs glistened as she tensed them, and her boobs looked so big in her bikini top that you could barely see my head beneath the giant glistening breast that sat on top of it. “Hurry up, Rick,” she said. “Take a selfie of me so I can show the girls in the Hot Moms Book Club what a few weeks of weight training can do.”
I fumbled for my phone and took a photo, just like mom ordered me to. To my horror, it came out great. “Oh look at me,” mom said, taking my phone as she released me from the headlock. “I look like a real live weightlifter with all these muscles. Wait until I show the girls.”
“Please mom, don't,” I begged. “Everyone will make fun of me.”
“Oh hush,” mom said. “Now how do I send this to my phone. Is it the little gizmo that looks like a flower or the little gizmo that looks like a ghost?”
It took me 10 minutes to show mom how to send a photo over text message, and 45 minutes to vacuum and mop the floors. When I got to the park Allison was glowing with anger as she stood tapping her foot, dressed in white shorts, a pink tube top and peep-toe wedges. “You kept me waiting for an hour!” she shouted.
Her punch was so fast that I didn't see it coming, and so strong that I didn't feel it land. All I knew was that one second she was yelling at me, and the next second I was on the ground, my eye swelling shut. “I-It was my mom,” I stammered. “She said-”
“I don't care what that chubby old bag said!” Allison bellowed, kicking me in the ribs. “I told you to be here at 3, and you disobeyed me! I sent like a hundred texts, Rick. Here, give me your phone.”
Allison ripped my phone from my hand, and with horror I realized that I had left the house in such a hurry that I had left the photo of my mom open. “OK, I can explain,” I said as Allison's brow wrinkled in confusion. “My mom talked Kylie into teaching her how to work out. She's really strong. I didn't want to be late but she wouldn't let me go.”
Allison frowned. “I guess it's not fair for me to expect you to stand up to a strong woman,” she said. “After all, your spineless submissiveness is the only reason I even bother with you.”
“Thank you Allison,” I said, kissing her toes. “I promise this will never happen again.”
“Oh I know it won't,” Allison said, throwing my phone on the ground. “Because we're going to your house, and I'm going to have a little talk with your mother.”
“What do you mean 'have a talk with my mom'?” I asked.
“I mean I'm going to kick her ass,” Allison growled. “No one orders you around except me.”
-
I love your story! To me, it's right up there with MagnusMagneto's magnum opus "Big Things Come in Little Packages" and spoonmaster's "Atypical Vacation".
Great narrative, although I'm not a fan of evil supergirls, I can understand that Kylie, being so far ahead of everyone, sees everyone else as worthless as ants. It can make someone exasperated and volatile, but it's still some distance from being a tyrant. What made her become an evil bully? The upside is that her being that way, it's easier to write her going all out and really showing off her strength, invulnerability and endurance by destroying people and things, so I'm not complaining...
Thank you very much! I hope to see more chapters soon!
Thanks for comparing this story to two of the greats. Hopefully part 2 lives up to that standard.
I don't really think of Kylie as evil, just kind of sociopathic in the way that spoiled and arrogant people can be. I probably should have fleshed out her character and motivations in part 1, but I'm writing this one chapter at a time, so there's not a lot of planning going on.
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Very interesting, this chapter being focused around Rick and Kylie's mom, and how in a few short weeks of Kylie showing her how to lift weights, she's already strong enough to lift Rick off the ground with seeming ease, overpower him and show him who is the boss in the house. I like that she's not that huge, but looks to be quite strong. But of course, I'm more interested in seeing how strong Kylie has become in the past couple of months. But that looks like it may have to wait, I look forward to seeing the next chapter, to see what Allison is going to do. k+!
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I hope when Alison confronts Mom she and Rick together are no match for Mom.
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I hope when Alison confronts Mom she and Rick together are no match for Mom.
Gonna have to disagree with you :P I would love to see the younger, sexier Allison also be stronger than the ripped mom!
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Count me in the wants-the-mom-to-win camp.
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As for myself I'm #TeamAlisson
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Go Allison!
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Part 2, Chapter 16
A few minutes later we were in my living room, and Allison slammed the door behind us. Mom appeared from the kitchen in her robe. “Oh hello,” she said, looking a bit confused. “I didn't expect you two to be home so soon. Oh! Richard what happened to your eye?”
“The same thing that's about to happen to you,” Allison said, stepping out of her wedges and taking off her earrings. “You see Mrs. O'Reilly, Rick is my property. And when I tell him to be at a certain place at a certain time, he damned well better be there. You don't get to tell him otherwise.”
“Now listen here you foul-mouthed little strumpet,” mom said, wagging her finger. “Richard is my son, and when he's under my roof he obeys my rules.”
“I make the rules,” Allison growled. “And people who don't follow my rules get hurt. Bad.”
“Don't you threaten me, missy,” mom said, taking off her robe and tossing it on a nearby chair.
Mom smiled as she flexed her new biceps, but Allison didn't seem impressed. Instead she stripped out of her tube top and shorts, revealing her naked body to my mother with a cocky smile on her face. “Did you know that when the olympics began, the athletes used to compete in the nude?” she asked. “I think they did that because being naked makes you feel primal and powerful.”
“Well let's give it a try, then,” mom said, and quickly slipped out of her bikini, and immediately flexed her biceps again. “Although a girl with muscles like these doesn't need help feeling powerful.”
“Are those muscles supposed to impress me?” Allison asked as she began to circle my mom.
“If they don't I'm sure my great big bazooms do,” mom said. “They're a lot bigger than yours.”
That was a mistake. Allison took enormous pride in her DDD tits, showing them off with every outfit she wore, and sometimes challenging girls at school to pull their boobs out to compare. It was bad enough that mom's gigantic hooters were obviously bigger, but that comment pushed her over the edge. “I'm going to wrap those things around her neck and strangle you with them!” Allison growled.
Allison and mom leapt at one another, their arms interlocking and their legs entangling as they strained to throw one another off balance. Mom got caught with a leg hook, and they fell to the ground with Allison on top, struggling to control mom's lean, sculpted arms. Then, in a moment that I will remember my entire life, Allison rose up, twisted until she was nearly facing backward, and whipped her torso around, smacking my mom in the face with her breasts so hard that mom's head smacked into the floor. “What in the world was that?” mom exclaimed. “Did you hit me with your bosom?”
“Yeah,” Allison said. “You can do that when you have firm, young tits like mine.”
Then as if to prove her point, Allison smacked my mom with her tits again. And again. And again. It would have been the hottest thing I had ever seen, if my mom weren't involved. I felt more sexually conflicted now than I had at any other point in my life. But Allison wasn't done. “Do you like that, bitch?” she asked, her creamy white tits smacking mom's head into the ground yet again. “Because that's what happens when you mess with my property. I bitch slap you with my titties.”
“Don't you dare use that language in my house young lady,” mom growled, suddenly exploding up off the ground and throwing Allison onto the floor. “Especially if you can't back up your boasting.”
Allison tried to stand up, but mom was on her instantly, her legs wrapped around Allison's waist. Then mom plopped her gigantic boobs on Allison's shoulders and squeezed them in her arms, and Allison's head was enveloped by my mom's huge oily breasts until only a tuft of red hair was visible in the gulf of cleavage. “I suppose if you have tiny little D cups like yours, you have to resort to slapping,” mom laughed. “But if you were blessed with J cups, like yours truly, you can smother.”
Allison struggled, mom's naked oily body sliding against her naked creamy skin as she did. Then from behind me I heard a cheer. There were a dozen neighborhood boys gathered at our front windows, watching my mom use her legendary breasts to smother the hottest girl in Fairlawn high.
I drew the curtains closed angrily as the boys groaned in disappointment. But I was just in time because Allison, desperate to free herself from my mom's suffocating hug, reached down and slid a finger in between my mom's legs. Mom yelped and jumped. That was all the opening Allison needed. She pushed my mother off and sprang to her feet. Mom jumped up just a second later. “You dirty little tart!” she shouted. “In my day we didn't finger our elders during a catfight! We had more-”
But before mom could finish her lecture, Allison delivered a vicious left hook to her stomach. But to my surprise, mom didn't crumple to the ground in tears the way I did when Allison punched me. Instead, they both winced with pain. “You have, like, abs of steel,” Allison said, wringing her hand.
“Holy moly, you kick like a mule,” mom said, rubbing her stomach.
The mutual admiration lasted for only a second longer, before mom and Allison leapt at each other again, their hands locked and their bodies pressed together. Their tits slipped over and under one another as they struggled, one woman's nipples digging into the other's flesh, both of them now covered in mom's suntan oil. As they snarled, eyes locked in a competitive gaze, muscles appeared from nowhere in Allisons's back and shoulders, and my mom's lats and biceps bulged with tension.
The battle pitched back and forth for a few seconds, but they appeared evenly matched, and neither Allison nor mom could gain the upper hand. They had been grappling for what seemed like minutes when, to my horror, they leaned forward and kissed.
And not just a kiss, but a deep, passionate tonguing that had them both moaning as their hands separated, and they began to grope one another unabashedly. Within seconds they were on the couch. Allison was on top, sucking one of mom's nipples and rolling the other between her fingers while her free hand stroked mom's crotch. “Oh my,” mom said, yelping with passion as I fled the room “You're―ooh! You're really good at―oh my! Oh my those little fingers just get everywhere.”
“Get back here, Rick!” Allison called, and I froze in place, unable to disobey her after months of conditioning. “You are going to watch every minute of this. You decided to disobey me, and now I have to punish your mother. Is this what you wanted? To see me punish your mom's pussy?”
“Punish it!” my mom cried passionately. “Fuck my hot wet pussy, you dirty bitch!”
“Such language!” Allison laughed. “I'm going to have to wash your mouth out. With cum.”
Mom's eyes flashed with excitement as she got up, and Allison lay down. “This is Annika,” Allison said as she stroked her vagina. “She's super excited to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Annika,” Mom said as she buried her face in Allison's vulva.
“Oh fuck!” Allison screamed, as my mom began to lick her. “You're amazing! Oh my God Annika likes that so much. This is the best my pussy has ever felt!”
This was awful. My mom was making my girlfriend sweat and scream in ways that I couldn't. I turned to leave once again. “Not so fast, mister!” mom called, raising her face from Allison's cooch, and sliding two fingers inside it. “You stay right there while I show you how to treat a woman.”
For the next few minutes, mom and Allison tossed on the couch, going through position after position as their glistening, naked bodies twisted and turned in ways that I had never seen, not even in pornos. Finally they found themselves in a '69' position, rubbing each other's breasts as they licked each other to completion, collapsing into a pile as the smell of coconut oil and pussy filled the room.
“You better not make Rick late again,” Allison said as she cradled my mom's gigantic boobs. “Or else I'll have to come over here and punish you again. Even harder. For even longer.”
Mom stroked Allison's hair. “Any time you want a rematch,” she purred. “But I'm free every day between 10 and 2. Except on Sundays, when the Hot Moms Book Club comes over.”
“Hot moms?” Allison giggled. “That sounds like my kind of party.”
“Well maybe you could join us for some... light reading,” mom giggled.
Mom made me clean the couch as she and Allison showered, and got dressed. When Allison finally emerged, she put her arms around me and kissed me. “Let's go see a movie tonight,” she said.
“I'll get my keys,” I said obediently.
Then we heard a door slam upstairs. Kylie appeared in the upstairs hall in a pink track suit, and made her way down the stairs and into the living room. “Where are you two going?” she asked.
“Oh hey Kylie!” Allison said, excitedly. “I haven't seen you in weeks. How are you?”
“How am I?” Kylie asked. “I'm angry that you didn't answer me. Where are you two going?”
My fear of Kylie made a lump in my throat, and I had trouble talking. I just wanted to get away from her. “We're just getting ready to go out,” I said nervously. “We have to hurry.”
“Yes, you do,” Kylie said. “Our flight leaves soon, and we have to get to the airport.”
“Where are we going?” Allison asked giddily as Kylie handed us airplane tickets.
“The Olympia is tomorrow,” Kylie said. “And I'm competing.”
“I thought that the Miss Olympia contest got dissolved?” Allison said.
“It did,” Kylie said proudly. “I'm competing in the Mr. Olympia contest.”
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I hope when Alison confronts Mom she and Rick together are no match for Mom.
Gonna have to disagree with you :P I would love to see the younger, sexier Allison also be stronger than the ripped mom!
I didn't expect this plot point to generate this much interest. I'm afraid the resolution is going to disappoint everyone. ???
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I don’t know what anyone else thinks, but I was definitely not disappointed. Mildly surprised, mostly. A very pleasant surprise though.
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Now we are at the Mr. OLYMPIA CONTEST. Happy to read what happens there. Will she already win the light-weight class?
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Oh my! I can't to see Kylie take over the Mr. Olympia contest, with her superior size and definition, but of course, those boobs that she has grown leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that this is a young lady, but one whose body is so incredibly big, ripped and strong that she can take down bodybuilders who've been training longer than she's been alive! I can't wait for the next chapter! k+!
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Also, I love that she's going to take Rick to the contest, to show him up close and personal that she has become superior to Mr. Olympia. I hope that she will do the same at the World's Strongest Man too.
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Part 2, Chapter 17
A few hours later we were boarding a plane to Las Vegas. Allison and I sat together in coach, but Kylie was flying first class, courtesy of one of her sponsors. Allison spent most of the time in the airport watching videos on her phone, trying to get up to speed with the Mr. Olympia competition. “This is so cool,” she said, showing me a video of a huge guy with a braided hair and arms the size of volleyballs hitting a rear double biceps pose. “These guys are huge. Like super huge.”
“That guy's neck is the size of a canned ham,” I said, pointing to the guy with the braids.
“That's Ty Tate,” Allison said. “He's the reigning champion. He's being a total dick about Kylie competing, though. Here, check out this video.”
Allison pulled up another video of Ty Tate being interviewed. “I'm not trying to be mean,” he told the interviewer, “but I've seen the pictures of that little girl, and they are clearly photoshopped. More importantly, this contest is for the biggest men in the world. It's no place for little girls. It's about grown man muscle, not 13 year old girl muscle. I don't care if she is sick and dying.”
“What does he mean 'sick and dying'?” I wondered aloud.
“As far as I can tell, Kylie had to tell the competition that she was terminally ill, and her dying wish was to compete in the contest,” Allison said. “They have all these stupid rules about age limits.“
“Those rules are to protect the sanctity of the event,” I said. “Kylie doesn't belong on the same stage as these guys. She has 17 inch biceps at best, assuming that she wasn't lying about that.”
“She had 17 inch biceps like a month ago, Rick,” Allison said. “I'll bet she's gotten bigger.”
“How big could she have possibly gotten in a month?” I asked. “She's lying to get into this contest, and that's just plain wrong. I just hope her feelings don't get hurt too bad when she loses.”
I was lying about that. I wanted nothing more than to see Kylie lose in public. Ty Tate was right, the Mr. Olympia contest was no place for 13 year old girls, and Kylie was going to find out the hard way. She had succeeded in lying her way into a competition that no 13 year old girl could ever possibly win, and I was going to enjoy every second of her failure.
Kylie had a limousine waiting for her at the airport, but Allison and I had to take a cab to the hotel. When we got to the hotel lobby, we were right behind Kylie, who had her earphones in as she waited to check in. Allison tapped Kylie on the shoulder, and Kylie turned around with a look of anger on her face that was so intense that it could have curdled milk. But when she saw that it was Allison who had touched her, her face returned to it's normal confident stillness, and even showed a trace of a smile. “Oh hey Fleabites,” she said, pausing the video player on her phone. “What do you want?”
“We haven't talked in a totally long time,” Allison said. “What have you been getting into?”
“I've been getting into the Mr. Olympia contest,” Kylie said dryly as she restarted the video app. “Did you somehow manage to miss that?”
Kylie turned away, but Allison tapped her again. “What are you listening to?” she asked.
Kylie held up the phone to show the video of the short Ty Tate interview that Allison and I had watched on the plane, set to loop over and over. “Something I'm watching for motivation,” she said.
One of Kylie's sponsors had paid to get her the Presidential suite at the hotel, so we didn't see her at all until the next morning when we met in the lobby. When I saw Kylie I almost died laughing.
Kylie had grown a few inches over the summer, and was probably 5'2” now. But even though she was as tall as a grown woman, the clothes that she was wearing made her look like a child. She was wearing a frilly pink apron dress that fell to her ankles, with a white long sleeved blouse. The dress and blouse were were on the baggy side and cut like a tent, which made her look as fat as a sumo wrestler. Further, she was wearing patent leather shoes, and her blonde hair was tied up in pigtails with pink ribbons. No one who saw her in that ridiculous get up would guess that she had muscles like a world-class female bodybuilder. “You look like a fat baby doll,” I chuckled.
“I know,” Kylie said calmly, “that's the look I'm going for. I had to pay a Hollywood costume designer $15,000 for this outfit, but it's worth every penny.”
Allison was startled. “Why did you pay $15,000 for that dress?” she asked. “I mean, it's nice and all, but you look like a fat prissy little girl.”
“I paid $15,000 for this dress because I wanted to look like a fat prissy little girl,” Kylie said.
“I mean sure,” Allison said. “But $15,000?”
“It's not a normal dress,” Kylie sighed impatiently. “You'll understand in a few minutes.”
About then the other Mr. Olympia competitors rumbled down into the lobby. They took one look at Kylie and broke out laughing, all of them except Ty Tate, who waddled up to her. “Hey little girl,” he said, his jowly face smiling. “My name is Ty. It's nice to meet you.”
“My name isn't 'little girl', it's Kylie O'Reilly,” my kid sister said. “And you better learn it.”
Ty looked confused by her curt answer. “Hey listen,” he said. “I'm always happy to see young fans get excited about bodybuilding, but this is a special competition because only the biggest men in the world can participate. Wouldn't you rather just hang out with us before and after the contest and get some tips on lifting? Instead of disturbing the sanctity of the competition?”
Kylie rolled her eyes. “You're pathetic,” she said as she walked toward her approaching limo.
A few minutes later we were backstage at the Mr. Olympia contest. Kylie checked in at the back table, and got a bag full of gifts and a tag with the number 13 on it. The woman at the table was a beautiful redhead whose boobs nearly spilled out of her blouse as she leaned forward to talk to Kylie. “I'm such a huge fan,” she said. “I was like the 3rd person to follow you on Insta. That photo of your abs is my wallpaper. And I want you to know that you're an inspiration to all women everywhere.”
“I know I am,” Kylie said. “But it's always nice to hear that. Thanks.”
The busty redhead leaned closer. “Have you gotten bigger since your last post?” she asked.
“A lot bigger,” Kylie said.
“I knew it!” the woman giggled gleefully. “How big are your arms now?”
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Kylie said with a smirk. “But my hotel room has a measuring tape, and if you come by tonight, I'll show you in person. If you think you can handle it.”
The buxom woman bounced up and down with joy as Kylie gave her a key card for the Presidential suite, and moments later we were in the Mr. Olympia pump room. There were guys of all sizes, from Bantamweights who were only a few inches taller than Kylie, to heavyweights who looked like giants from fantasy movies. But all of the men stopped lifting when Kylie entered the room in her little pink dress and her pigtails. A few of them nodded sympathetically, a few of them laughed and a few of them rolled their eyes. Ty Tate glowered at Kylie the second he saw her, and he kept glowering as she walked straight toward him as he curled 50 pound dumbbells by a huge mirror.
Ty Tate looked even bigger in person than he did in videos, and he bristled as Kylie approached. Standing next to him was a bleached blonde with big fake breasts in a halter top, who stared at him lasciviously as he pumped his gigantic muscles. As Kylie approached, the bleached blonde smiled at her and waved. “You must be the sick little girl,” she said. “My name is Tonya, and I'm Ty's wife. You probably want his autograph, huh?”
Kylie ignored Sofia and fixed her icy gaze on Ty. “Using light weights to pump up?” she asked.
“They're light to me,” Ty said. “But I wouldn't advise that a 13 year old pump up with 50's.”
“You're probably right,” Kylie said. “After all, 13 year old girls need real weight to get pumped.”
Then, with her eyes locked on Ty Tate, Kylie plucked the 60 pound dumbbells off the weight rack and began to curl them to her chest with ease, first her right arm, then her left. Then men in the pump room were shocked to see a 13 year old girl in a pink dress curling 60 pound dumbbells, and they were in awe once the baggy sleeves of her blouse started to swell with bulging muscle shapes. And they were downright speechless as the seems of her pink dress started to tear from top to bottom. “Holy fuck!” Allison said. “Rick, are you seeing this? Do you see her muscles?”
They were hard to miss. As Kylie's pink dress and white blouse fell to shreds at her feet, as they had been engineered to do by a professional costume designer, everyone in the pump room was given an eyeful of my 13 year old kid sister's bikini-clad body. And she was huge.
Kylie wore a pink sequined bikini that struggled to cover her perfectly tanned, punishingly conditioned, bountifully busty and massively muscled body. A body with muscles that dwarfed those of the men in the lighter weight classes. A body that no 13 year old girl should ever be able to build. And as the entire Mr. Olympia pump room stared at her in stunned silence, Kylie smiled.
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Oh man, I love where this is going, Kylie is going to bring down the house when she appears onstage against all those guys, most of whom are taller than her, but I'm guessing few will be bigger and none will have better symmetry. I look forward to seeing your description of her in the contest itself, please keep up the great work, grbaclig! k+!
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Part 2, Chapter 18
I couldn't believe it. Kylie must have gained 100 pounds in the past month. Or more. She was bulging with thick slabs of muscle that rippled with every movement of her young body. And her young body was so shredded that those thick slabs of muscle knotted visibly together without an ounce of fat to obscure them, except for her breasts, which were now as big as volleyballs.
I had gotten used to the idea of my little sister being muscular, but what I was seeing now was impossible to reconcile with reality. She was bigger than 10 year old Kylie who used to flex her muscles over the neighborhood boys after beating them in fistfights. She was bigger than 11 year old Kylie who used to flex her muscles over me after beating me at pull-up contests. She was bigger than 12 year old Kylie who taunted me and Allison by the swimming pool this past summer. And she was bigger than the 30 year old male bodybuilders who stood slack-jawed and bug-eyed as her gigantic arms pumped over and over, her eyes still locked on Ty Tate. “This is impossible,” Ty mumbled as Kylie replaced the dumbbells.
“What's so hard to believe?” Kylie asked with a smirk as she raised her arms into a mountainous double bicep flex. “I'm just a 13 year old girl with 26 inches biceps. By the way, how big are your biceps?”
Ty said nothing, but Tonya spoke for him. “23 inches,” she said as she stared at Kylie.”
“23 inches?” Kylie sneered as she pumped her arms again. “You call that a muscle?”
“This can't be happening,” Ty said. “You can't be real. You're not possible.”
“Not only am I possible, I'm inevitable,” Kylie said with a laugh, flexing over and over as she taunted the reigning Mr. Olympia. “I'm going to dominate. My little girl muscles are bigger, stronger, and harder than your grown man muscles could ever be. And you know what? I'm just getting started. I'm going dominate next year, too. And every year after that until I get tired of winning.”
Cameras flashed around the room as Kylie continued to slowly pump her arms, her biceps the size of softballs and her triceps the size of American footballs. She was only able to bend her elbows past 90 degrees because her biceps were so sculpted that they contracted from thick slabs into towering peaks, making room for her hulking forearms. “This is some kind of trick,” I said. “She's injecting Synthol into her muscles, like those weird guys on the internet.”
“In her whole body?” Allison said. “No way. Besides that stuff makes people look lumpy and bloated. She's just... huge... ripped... perfect. I mean my God look at her legs. They're magnificent.”
As if Kylie had heard her from across the room, she began to do pistol squats, pumping her massive legs one at a time as her huge striated glutes bulged like tractor tires under her golden brown skin. A small crowd was forming around Kylie now, composed mostly of women, many of whom were the wives and girlfriends of other Mr. Olympia contestants. After knocking out a dozen pistol squats, Kylie pointed her left leg, making her calf bulge beneath her tanned skin like two mangoes stuffed in a brown stocking, and shook her massive thigh. She smiled with satisfaction as she flexed her quadriceps, and her muscle-wrapped leg snapped into perfect definition, the vastus muscles braided like steel cable as they tapered toward her girlish knee.
I felt a familiar pang of anger and insecurity forming in my gut like a cold rock. Just a few seconds ago I was looking forward to seeing my bratty little sister get shown up in public. Just a few seconds ago I thought no woman stood a chance in the Mr. Olympia contest, especially not a 13 year old girl. But in just a few seconds Kylie had changed all that, and now her triumph seemed certain. The cocky smile on Kylie's face, the forlorn disbelief on the faces of the other competitors, and the giddy excitement on the faces of the press and fans told the same story. Kylie had won the Mr. Olympia title before she ever set foot on stage. Her unbelievable size and unmatchable conditioning leaving no doubt as to who the most muscular person on the planet was.
Kylie bent down and slipped out of her shoes, and pulled a tube of oil out of the gift bag she had gotten when she registered. “Anyone want to help oil me up?” she asked with a cocky smirk.
Allison leapt into the air as if she had been pinched, but before she could take a single step, Kylie was swarmed by women, most of them wive and girlfriends of other Mr. Olympia contestants. Tonya Tate was closest to her, and she filled her trembling hands with oil as another woman tore the tube away from her. A few seconds later Kylie's body was being caressed by a half-dozen beautiful women, most of them on their knees as they adoringly rubbed her sculpted bulk with oil, giggling as they ran their hands over her. “These have to be the biggest arms in the history of the world,” Tonya said as she traced her fingers along the cuts in Kylie's triceps and delts.
“They are,” Kylie said as she smirked at Ty Tate. “And in a few minutes I'm going to prove it.”
“Oh my God, they're real,” a brunette with glasses squeaked. “Your boobs are real.”
“Yeah,” Kylie said. “It's a good thing my back is so strong, because they won't stop growing.”
“You're so beautiful and so feminine, but also bestial and powerful,” a beautiful Asian woman in red eye shadow said. “You're a perfect specimen of womanhood.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said.
A few minutes later Kylie shrugged herself free from the pile of adoring women, and nodded with approval as she looked at her glistening golden-brown body in a nearby mirror. Then tossing her hair over her shoulder, she began to walk toward me and Allison, her massive muscles rippling and her big breasts wobbling. Kylie's muscles were so oversized on her 5'2” frame that it was hard to believe that she could move at all, but she still moved with the same graceful ease that she had shown her entire life. As she got closer, she locked me in her gaze, and I gulped in fear.
“Hey Rick,” she said. Remind me again what you said a few months ago. About how I was going to stop getting bigger. About how I could never be bigger than the guys at the Mr. Olympia.”
“This is impossible,” I said. “You can't be this big. This is a trick. This is fake.”
“Does this look like a trick to you?” Kylie asked as she spread her lats out until she was nearly three feet wide. “Does this look fake? Because this is real. This is real live muscle.”
“No,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “This can't be happening. Where did all that mass come from? How are your bones long enough and strong enough to hold all that muscle?”
“I'm going through my growth spurt,” Kylie smirked as she clasped her hands, making her pectoral muscles harden into blocks of muscle as big and thick as textbooks. “And I've grown a lot.”
“Oh fuck me,” Allison squeaked. “The pecs. Those fucking pecs.”
“Are you doing okay, Fleabites?” Kylie asked. “You look kind of pale.”
Pale was an understatement. Allison was standing ramrod straight as if she were paralyzed, shaking from head to toe, her hands clenched, her breathing sporadic, and her lips trembling. “Oh fuck,” she mumbled as if she were in a trance. “Just look at her. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.”
“Look Kylie just leave us alone,” I said weakly. “We have to get to our seats, and you should just save your flexing for the stage.”
Kylie laughed as she turned to leave. “That wasn't flexing,” she said. “I was just playing around. When I flex my muscles, you'll know it. The whole world will know it.”
A minute later, Allison and I were in our seats, but we didn't have much to say to one another. We were both stunned into silence by my kid sister's massively muscled body. The fanfare for the Mr. Olympia was pretty impressive, with laser lights and former champions. One of them in particular caught Allison's attention, a tall beautiful woman with broad shoulders who had thickly muscled thighs and bulging calves beneath a very short skirt. “That's Lorena Lopez,” Allison said. “She won a few Ms. Olympia titles in the 90's, and now she works for the sports network. She's so hot.”
Once the competition started, the contestants came out as a group for mandatory poses, one weight class after another. First the bantamweights, then the lightweights, then the middleweights, then the light heavyweights then the heavyweights. “There's no way she's a heavyweight,” I said. “It says right here that you have to weigh at least 225 pounds, and Kylie's just a girl.”
“Just a girl?” Allison said, taking obvious offense. “You're such a chauvinist. I thought I beat that out of you, but I guess I'm going to have to get tougher.”
“But it doesn't make sense,” I insisted. “How could she put on 125 pounds in three months? Where does the mass come from? I don't think you can eat 125 pounds of food in three months.”
“Women can do anything that men can do,” Allison said. “But better.”
Soon the heavyweights filed out onto the stage, one after another, with Kylie coming on last. The crowd was cheering, excited to see the biggest bodybuilders in the world. But as soon as Kylie stepped onto the stage, the auditorium fell silent as gasps of disbelief filled the air. Every eye in the auditorium was trained on my kid sister. Once again, it was all about her.
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Man, what another awesome chapter to this amazing story, I just loved each and every bit of Kylie's awesome frame, her record breaking biceps, her stripper shaming breasts, her huge, ripped pecs, and the confidence that comes with knowing that you're going to do something unheard of, a 13 year old girl becoming the bodybuilding champion of the World, a title that had been meant for men, but I don't think a man will ever win the title again, I think Kylie will start a revolution where women and girls of all ages will become so big that men will never catch up, the Mr. Olympia will be dropped off the face of the Earth like the Ms. Olympia was. But I do agree with a lot of the narrative revolving around how? Did she create a muscle growth formula? Or was it all hard work and insane genetics that Kylie always had in her, but had not really put it into practice until she was challenged by her brother? Either way, I look forward to more! k+!
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Part 2, Chapter 19
9 heavyweights stood on the stage and waited for the mandatory posing to begin. Kylie was at the very end of the line with a confident smile on her face. And she had every reason to be confident. Despite being a foot shorter than the other contestants, her superior size and definition were obvious, and in fact her short stature made her look even bigger.
The first mandatory pose was the front lat spread. The men puffed themselves up quickly, but Kylie spread her lats slowly, and as they grew wider and wider I wondered if they would ever stop growing. The way that her tiny waist flared into wings of muscle made her look impossibly big, and the way that her ribs and serratus muscles stood out in perfect definition made her look impossibly ripped. “She's posing perfectly,” a woman in front of us said with admiration. “She's got all the right muscles flexed and all the right muscles relaxed. You can tell by the way her pecs ripple and her delts pop.”
The second mandatory pose was the double biceps pose. While most of the competitors raised their arms in a plain manner bereft of showmanship, Kylie slowly curled arms upward, her fingers splayed and her lats flaring until her biceps reached their quivering limit, their peaks rising as high as her ears. “It's not just the size of her arms that makes her biceps pose so dominant,” Allison said. “Look at the way her delts kind of drape down from her shoulder to her chest. That's hot.”
The third mandatory pose was the side chest pose. It was hard to say which of Kylie's body parts were more impressive, her pectorals or her breasts. Her tanned oily boobs were huge and firm, but they were set low on her chest, allowing an obstructed view of her massive pectorals. Not that anything could have obstructed her pecs. They were as big and thick as dictionaries, jutting out so dramatically that they nearly touched her chin, and they were so overdeveloped that hills and valleys were formed by the separation of of the clavicular head and the segments of the sternal head. And every inch of her pecs were visible because of the way her gigantic boobs stretched her top to its limit, exposing a bounty of hard muscles and soft breasts. “She could never get away with a top like that in a women's contest,” a woman behind us said to her friend. “But these judges don't know what a regulation bikini is supposed to look like. Or maybe they're perverts and wanted to stare at her tits. Not that I could blame them for wanting to stare. I think I'm turning into a lesbian just watching her.”
The fourth mandatory pose was the rear lat spread. Again Kylie spread her back slowly, allowing the knotted muscles of her back to swell and expand as she did. When she finally finished sprawling her monstrous back, it put the men on stage to shame with its width, symmetry, and the muscle shapes that bloomed from it. The columns of her trapezius was as thick as the arms of the men on stage with her, and her lats were so overdeveloped that they were almost circular, making her back look more like a mushroom cloud than a cobra hood. “I swear she's almost as wide as she is tall,” a woman to our right said, laughing with amazement. “I mean, she's clearly bigger than the men.”
The fifth mandatory pose was the rear double biceps pose. Kylie smoothly transitioned her arms upward, making the muscles of her back bulge and contract as she did. Kylie showed perfect definition in her rhomboids, infraspinatus, obliques, teres, lats and traps. And her perfect tan and perfect oiling made sure that every single muscle was visible, each one clearly separated from its neighbors by deep cuts. And her arms were just as impressive. Her biceps popped up from the cleft between her deltoids and her brachialis like hot air balloons rising out of valleys, and her triceps were so swollen with power that they rubbed against her bulging lats. “I've spent 30 years following this sport,” a man's voice said in bewilderment. “How did a 13 year old girl build the biggest and most muscular back in the history of bodybuilding? My 13 year old can't even mow the lawn correctly.”
The sixth mandatory pose was the side triceps pose. Kylie was starting to smile now, not the thin nasty smile that flashed for dramatic effect, but the big beaming smile that overtook her whenever she was dominant in a competition. And dominant was the only word for her side triceps pose. The entire crowd chattered with excitement as they stared at the striated bulk of her cantaloupe-sized delts, the hulking bulge of her crab claw shaped tricep, and forearms as thick as the upper arms of the men that she was competing with. And with her legs bent, the unreal thickness of her rounded glutes, the massively cabled musculature of her gigantic thighs, and the dramatic jutting of her diamond-shaped calves all emphasized her size advantage. But the most impressive thing about Kylie's side triceps pose was the way her posture and position emphasized the feminine curves of her body. Her tiny waist made her lats and butt look bigger, her dainty wrists and hands made her forearms look bigger, and her slim ankles and knees made her legs look absolutely unreal. And of course, her gigantic breasts stood proud and firm, bulging visibly out of the pink sequined bikini top even in profile. “She's beyond big, beyond ripped,” a woman whispered to Allison, who nodded in agreement.
The seventh mandatory pose was the abdominal and thigh pose. Kylie began by lifting up her gigantic boobs up so that her abdomen could be fully seen. Her hourglass figure was wrapped with muscle, from her chiseled ribs, to her rippling serratus muscles, to her eight perfectly symmetrical abs, all the way down to her obliques, which were ribboned with striations near her ribcage and curled into a perfect v-line as they plunged into her pink sequined bikini bottom. And then she flexed. With her torso tensed, the cuts defining her abs and obliques deepened into gouges, while the smaller muscles around her ribcage rippled like waves under her golden brown skin. As Kylie thrust her right leg forward, her tiny toes pointing toward the stage, her titanic thigh rumbled to life, her muscles tightening like steel cable being drawn. Even from the front, the dimple of her bulging butt were visible where her gluteus medius and tensor fasciae muscles met the top of her femoris muscle, which ballooned to the thickness of a rugby ball before tapering down to cleave into her teardrop shaped vastus muscles. The pectineus muscle that framed her quadricep was as thick as a belt and so well defined that it could be seen running from her bikini bottom all the way down to her knee, flanked by the muscles of her inner thigh, which bulged with size and definition that none of the men could compete with. “Her figure is more feminine than mine, and her muscles are bigger than my husband's,” Tonya Tate said.
The eight mandatory pose was the most muscular pose. All eyes were on Kylie as she curled her arms downward, her traps, delts, triceps, biceps and pecs swelling with mass and rippling with definition. The combination of her enormous bulk and short stature made her look positively superhuman as her muscles continued to contract, and the dramatic effect of her muscularity was heightened by the contrast of her brawny body with her angelic facial features, blonde pigtails and enormous breasts. Her muscular superiority was more obvious now than ever, and her smile widened, her perfect white teeth accentuating her youthful beauty. The men on stage weren't smiling.
Next came the callouts, where the judges would have two or three competitors come forward and hit a pose, so that the development of specific muscle groups could be compared. Kylie never got called forward, but her smile never faded, and as the competitors left the stage. “Why didn't the little girl get a callout?” the woman next to Allison asked.
“It's because she' already won,” Allison said. “The men are competing for second place now.”
It was hard to argue with her. The audience was still abuzz with talk of my kid sister's muscles as the screens in the auditorium began to show backstage interviews while the competitors prepared for their individual routines. Not surprisingly, reporters were crowded around Kylie. “Kylie!” a reporter with a Hawaiian shirt called. “Is it true you're only 13 years old?”
Kylie rolled her eyes. “Is it true you got a job as a reporter even though you can't do elementary research? “ she asked. “There's this new thing called 'Google'. You should check it out.”
“Kylie!” a reporter with a mustache called. “Is it true that you have a rare incurable disease?”
“It's called 'That Bitch-itis',” Kylie said. “It's rare because I'm the only person who has it, and it's incurable because I'm never going to stop being That Bitch.”
The reporter with the mustache looked confused. “Um, is it fatal?” he asked.
“Only to people who make me angry,” Kylie said, glaring at Ty Tate.
The next reporter in line was Lorena Lopez, the former Miss Olympia who worked for the sports network. Allison sighed audibly at Lorena's amazonian beauty. “Kylie,” Lorena said. “Young women have unique body chemistry, with lots of native growth hormone and an estrogen balance conducive to gaining muscle. How have you tailored your program to optimize those advantages?”
“Good question,” Kylie said. “I wish I could give you a good answer, but the truth is that my program is simple. I eat whatever I want, I'm in the gym for 9 hours every day, and I always lift heavy.”
“Can you give a sense of what 'heavy' means for someone like you?” Lorena Lopez asked.
“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Kylie said with a smile. “But my hotel room has a private gym, and if you want to come over, I'll show you in person. If you think you can handle it.”
Lorena Lopez blushed and giggled as other reports pushed around her to get to Kylie, ignoring the male competitors. As the reporters clamored, Kylie smirked. Once again, it was all about her.
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Another short, but deliciously sweet chapter, Kylie won hands down, no doubt about it, the only placing in doubt was who was going to come in second. I also liked her responses to a couple of those questions, very confident, but she has every right to be as was said earlier in the story. Now the only question is how strong is Kylie? Lorena Lopez may find out before we do, when, and my fingers are crossed here, she conquers the World's Strongest Man contest. I look forward to more! k+!
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Amazing! Fantastic! How many stories have you wrote before? Because this is insanely good!
The story is advancing quite quickly, and I'm wondering what comes next after Kylie conquers the World's Strongest Man Competition. There isn't much more left (that I can think of) in the realm of strength and physical power... Undefeated world MMA champion, maybe? Sweeping the olympics, getting nothing but gold medals in multiple specialties while setting impossible-to-break records? Crush other sports, like winning alone against whole teams in soccer/basketball/football/volleyball/etc?
I also have to say that I wonder how much can Rick stand before he completely snaps. When Rick boasted that Kylie would never surpass the top males in their own male-only, strength-and-muscle fields, it was a masterstroke. He wouldn't have to do anything by himself, and Kylie would be demoralized when she eventually failed. With the Mr Olympia arc, I really felt his confidence and hope waver, then still hold on to them as he still had faith in his heart that there was still a small chance for him to see her fail at somethingl, before being brought back down to earth once again and deeper in hopelessness and desperation.
He already tried to have her beaten just to slow her down, so we're shown he is capable of evil. Now that his sister conquers more territory, how far will he allow himself to go just to get her stop?
I'm hooked. I'm checking every day just to see when a new part is posted, and every time I give Karma.
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After she won she gets measured at her suite?
A great story and I'm happy to read the next chapter
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Fabulous story so far. How big will she get from here?
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Part 2, Chapter 20
The screens went blank, marking the end of the interviews and the beginning of the individual routines, but the crowd was still talking about my Kylie. In fact they had never stopped. And they kept talking about her, even when the men began their individual routines, and most people were paying so little attention to the men that they forgot to clap for them. They were too busy trying to pull up pictures and information about Kylie on their phones. I stood up to leave, but Allison grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back down to my seat. “Where do you think you're going?” she asked.
“I need some fresh air,” I said.
That was a lie. I hated watching Kylie show off. I had been living in her shadow since she was in kindergarten. Kylie was always better than me at everything, and I every time I saw her showing off, I remembered all the times she lorded her superiority over me. I got mad when I thought about the men competing in the Mr. Olympia, and about how Kylie had barged in on them and taken all the glory that they had worked so hard for, because she had been doing to me my whole life. The thought of seeing her dance around in her glittery bikini while an adoring crowd cheered her on was more than I could take. I opened my mouth to tell Allison how I felt, but she cut me off instantly. “You need to stay here and film Kylie's routine,” she said. “I'm going to do it, but my hands are kind of shaky for some reason, so I need a backup.”
“Allison, please,” I begged.
Allison's beautiful face twisted into a scowl. “The only way you're leaving is if I beat the shit out of you for disobeying me and paramedics take you away, “ she said. “Is that what you want?”
I slumped in my seat and took out my phone. Then a hush fell over the crowd as the screen flashed my kid sister's statistics: Kylie O'Reilly, Height 5'2”, Weight 237lbs., Age 13. As Kylie strolled onto the stage, Allison began to squirm in her seat, and pointed her phone's camera at the stage, just like all the other women in the crowd. Kylie's face was stoic as she began her routine, raising her arms over her head with her fists pointing outward in a myth pose. With her legs together and her lats flaring, her feminine curves emphasized her broad back and thick thighs. Her abdomen looked like an avalanche of muscles as her torso stretched, her forearms were as thick as softballs as her fists curled, and her pecs looked six inches thick as they blended into her delts. “Oh fuck me,” Allison whispered.
Then Kylie dropped into a side splits, slowly and smoothly so that the chiseled muscles of her inner thighs were on full display. At the bottom of her splits, Kylie dropped her arms into a double biceps pose that made the crowd stand up and cheer as a satisfied smile spread across her face. Then the cheering grew louder as Kylie began to squeeze her legs together again, raising herself up off the ground using only the power of her thighs, her 26” biceps still flexed into mountainous peaks of quivering muscle. “Mom, can I get a gym membership?” a girl's voice called out from our right. “I want muscles like Kylie.”
Kylie's lowered her arms and bent forward, giving the audience a view of her gigantic tanned breasts as she planted her hands and raised herself effortlessly into a handstand, displaying her muscle-knotted back and incredible shoulders. Her lower body was even more impressive, from her gargantuan buttocks to her muscle-etched hamstrings, to her upside-down calves that looked like hearts carved out of golden brown marble, all the way up to her tiny feet which pointed skyward. When the crowd had cheered themselves out, Kylie flipped forward and landed deftly on her feet, her pigtails still perfectly primped, her body moving with balletic grace despite her impossible mass. “Those pigtails are too much,” woman to our left giggled. “I'm going to need to change my panties.”
The second Kylie's feet hit the ground, she sprang up onto her tiptoes, making her quads and calves explode with mass, and then floated her arms downward slowly to show of her sprawling lats. Then she clasped her hands together in front of her navel and began to slowly flex her pectorals mammoth pectorals, one at a time, first the right and then left. Her pecs began to to swell and contract under her skin like hydraulic rollers under a golden brown silk as her volleyball-sized boobs wobbled in her pink sequined bikini top. Kylie looked down at her rippling pecs and jiggling breasts and smiled, visibly pleased with her muscularity and bustiness. “This is so gross,” I mumbled.
But Kylie wasn't finished. She continued her routine, her gigantic muscles moving with symphonic harmony as she flowed easily from one pose to another. And by the time shew blew a kiss to the crowd and strutted off stage, everyone in the auditorium was on their feet cheering for her. Everyone except for me. There were a few men who went on after Kylie, but no one really paid attention to them. Kylie had stolen the show. Once again, it was all about her.
After the individual routines, the winners of each weight class were brought on stage for the posedown of the Mr. Olympia contest. The final competitors were four grown men and a 13 year old girl. The men didn't stand a chance. “Look at her,” Allison said as the posedown began. “She doesn't have a single weakness. She's perfect. She's absolutely perfect.”
It was hard to argue with her. Every muscle in Kylie's body was bigger and more developed than those of her male counterparts, and her perfect symmetry made the men look lopsided by comparison. But her superiority wasn't limited to her physique. Her perfectly tanned skin shown with a natural glow, every single strand of hair on her head was in the perfect place, her beautiful face exuded health with its perfect symmetry, and the lines of her pink sequined bikini accentuated her curvaceous body perfectly like pinstripes on a sportscar. Kylie was completely and utterly dominant in every way. The men jockeyed for position in the posedown, and they tried their best to cover Kylie, but it was all for naught. A few minutes after setting foot on stage in her second bodybuilding competition, my 13 year old little sister became the first woman to win the Mr. Olympia title.
Kylie was visibly unimpressed as she accepted her trophy and her medal, as if it meant nothing to her. And it didn't. I knew Kylie well enough to know that she didn't care about trophies. She cared about dominating. Lorena Lopez joined her on stage and hugged her, for a little too long, before beginning an interview. “Kylie, you were amazing!” Lorena gushed, barely able to contain her excitement. “You stepped onto a stage with the biggest men in the world, and you dominated!”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said.
Lorena continued, struggling to make eye contact as she ogled my bikini-clad little sister. “People are already saying that you have most perfectly developed physique of all time.” she said. “Do you have anything to say about that?”
“Those people are correct,” Kylie said. “No one else is even in my league, honestly.”
“And do you have anything to say to the people who doubted you?” Lorena asked.
“No,” Kylie said. “I let my muscles talk for me. After all, this contest wasn't about grown man muscle, it was about 13 year old girl muscle. It was all about 13 year old girl muscle.”
And to punctuate her dig at Ty Tate, Kylie raised her arms and flexed her towering biceps again, and the crowd erupted with cheers as Lorena Lopez signed off, and the stage lights dimmed.
After the award ceremony, there was a reception in the hotel banquet room. Kylie didn't attend. Instead she walked through the hotel lobby toward the elevator that led to her suite, with Lorena Lopez on one arm, and the busty redhead from the registration table on the other. Allison had a look of yearning on her face as she watched them walking together and laughing. When the elevator doors closed, Allison closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. “Allison, are you all right?” I asked.
Then Allison opened her eyes, pulled me close and kissed me, and we went to the reception. That night, guys hit on Allison constantly, but she rebuffed them all and clung to my arm like a loving girlfriend. Later in our hotel room we had incredible sex. Allison was insatiable, using her athletic body and bountiful assets to rub, grind and envelope me in ways I never thought possible. By offering me her body, Allison had erased all the pent-up anger and jealousy I felt toward my overachieving little sister, and I glowed with warmth as we fucked well into the night. Afterward we collapsed into pile on my bed. “I love you,” I said to her. “I need you. Without you, I don't know how I would make it through the day.”
“I need you, too,” she said. “Without you, I don't know how I would ever get to see Kylie.”
The warmth I felt just moments ago faded as Allison's words plunged into my heart like an icy dagger. My eyes filled with tears, my gut burned with anger and I didn't get much sleep that night.
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Amazing! Fantastic! How many stories have you wrote before? Because this is insanely good!
The story is advancing quite quickly, and I'm wondering what comes next after Kylie conquers the World's Strongest Man Competition. There isn't much more left (that I can think of) in the realm of strength and physical power... Undefeated world MMA champion, maybe? Sweeping the olympics, getting nothing but gold medals in multiple specialties while setting impossible-to-break records? Crush other sports, like winning alone against whole teams in soccer/basketball/football/volleyball/etc?
I also have to say that I wonder how much can Rick stand before he completely snaps. When Rick boasted that Kylie would never surpass the top males in their own male-only, strength-and-muscle fields, it was a masterstroke. He wouldn't have to do anything by himself, and Kylie would be demoralized when she eventually failed. With the Mr Olympia arc, I really felt his confidence and hope waver, then still hold on to them as he still had faith in his heart that there was still a small chance for him to see her fail at somethingl, before being brought back down to earth once again and deeper in hopelessness and desperation.
He already tried to have her beaten just to slow her down, so we're shown he is capable of evil. Now that his sister conquers more territory, how far will he allow himself to go just to get her stop?
I'm hooked. I'm checking every day just to see when a new part is posted, and every time I give Karma.
Thanks for the kind words and the karma. :thanks:
To answer your question I've written a handful of stories on this site. Some are better than others, but I'm partial to Big Girls on Campus. Although I should go back one day and write a proper ending.
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Looks like it's going the way of Beckie Finkelstein story: Rick is gonna lose it and try to kill Kylie, after which he'll realize she's bulletproof.
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Thanks for the kind words and the karma. :thanks:
To answer your question I've written a handful of stories on this site. Some are better than others, but I'm partial to Big Girls on Campus. Although I should go back one day and write a proper ending.
You deserve them all and more. This is the first one I've read from you, and I'll definitely look for your other stories. Saradas doesn't make it easy since searching is closed for all but VIP.
The ending of this last part is a serious gut punch. Rick has suffered too much for too long, and now that he realized he is sloppy seconds in Aliison's mind, I see him taking his own life sooner rather than later, most likely running her over with a car and then committing suicide, or by setting up a bomb and blowing himself, Allison and Kyle. And yesterday I thought it was a given that Rick would escalate the aggression. I know that it's not my place to ask, but I implore you to try not to dampen the mood so much.
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Yeah, like I said before, the results were not in doubt for a second to anyone who could actually see, Kylie was just too perfect to give it to anyone else, too big, too ripped, too beautiful, a 13 year old went out and took over the bodybuilding World, and most likely the only reason she did it was to spite her own brother, though in doing so she went and showed her superiority over men in general. And I would venture to guess that this is just the first example of her superiority over grown men, I look forward to seeing more as always! k+!
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I'm sorry for my comment. The story was too engrossing and I ended up getting carried away and going overboard with the gloominess. That was out of place on my part.
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I'm sorry for my comment. The story was too engrossing and I ended up getting carried away and going overboard with the gloominess. That was out of place on my part.
No need to apologize--and you can always "modify" your post if you really regret it.
If it makes you feel any better, I never do that kind of thing in my stories. I just write for love of the subject matter, and any emotional impact is purely coincidental. :)
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No need to apologize--and you can always "modify" your post if you really regret it.
If it makes you feel any better, I never do that kind of thing in my stories. I just write for love of the subject matter, and any emotional impact is purely coincidental. :)
I'm sorry. It's my first time reading one of your stories and I tend to get sucked into a narrative and empathize too much with the characters. I searched for more of your stories and started reading "Bubblegum, Pigtails, and Total Domination". There are some parallels there: Becky is also an irredeemable bully, and a similar girlfriend-stealing scenario appears to happen there with Becky Finkelstein and Angie, but since Stephen is a pretty awful person to begin with, and didn't had to endure living his whole life in the shadow of someone better, I didn't sympathize with his situation.
I wish I could've taken my comment away, but I don't have any option to delete or edit... Maybe it's a perk for VIPs?
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Great again.
Will Allison try to catch up to Kylie muscles?
Hope this last chapter was not the end.
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Part 2, Chapter 21
The next morning, Allison and I were in line for breakfast with the other hotel guests. Kylie was being swarmed with reporters, potential sponsors and fans, so I was hoping I could get a break. I just wanted a few minutes where Kylie wasn't the center of the universe. But Allison couldn't talk about anything else. “Did you hear that they gave Kylie a whole bunch of drug tests after she won?” Allison asked me. “Can you believe that? I mean, all those men are on steroids for sure, but they're not getting tested. The double standard that women face in athletics is just sickening.”
“She has to be taking something,” I grumbled. “She's too big to be natural.”
“That's so petty!” Allison scolded. “How could you accuse your own sister of cheating?”
“She has to be cheating,” I mumbled, my voice getting louder as I got more agitated. “What she's doing isn't possible. She's a little girl, and little girls are soft and weak!”
“Excuse me?” called a voice from behind us in line. “What did you just say?”
It was Lorena Lopez the former Ms. Olympia who worked for the sports network, and her face was red with anger. “Oh you messed up now, Rick,” Allison giggled. “She's going to kick your ass.”
“I'll have you know that I have an 11 year old daughter,” Lorena snarled as a young raven-haired girl with glasses peaked out from behind her. “And it's hard enough raising a daughter in this world without that kind of misogynistic garbage being thrown around in public.”
The little girl with glasses tugged on Lorena's sleeve and whispered into her ear. A nasty smile spread across Lorena's face as the two of them stepped out of the line and walked toward us. “That's a good idea, Lola,” Lorena said to her daughter. “This will be the perfect place for you to practice.”
Allison bounced nervously as the middle-aged amazon stomped toward us in a mini skirt and tight-fitting blouse, her young daughter shuffling behind wearing a purple track suit. “God she is a milf and a half,” Allison muttered. “Her legs are killing me. What I wouldn't give to lick them up and down.”
As I gave Allison a sideways glance, Lorena stuck her finger in my chest. “Okay tough guy,” she said, “if you think little girls are soft and weak, why don't you try wrestling my daughter Lola?”
I looked down at Lola. She was a couple of inches shorter than Kylie, and obviously nowhere near as big. What's more she was visibly nervous, exuding weakness where Kylie exuded strength. I was confident that I could beat her, despite all my past losses at the hands of Kylie and Allison. Then the absurdity of the situation struck me and I laughed. “I'm not going to wrestler a child,” I said.
Lola's face crumpled into a frown of frustration as Lorena glanced at Allison. “Well how about this,” she said slyly. “If you can beat Lola 2 falls out of 3, I'll take you and your foxy little girlfriend back to my hotel room and three of us can have a little... fun. How does that sound?”
“He'll do it!” Allison said, dragging me out of line as Lorena led us across the room.
“Allison this is ridiculous,” I hissed. “I can't fight a little girl in public. What's gotten into you?”
“Rick, we are talking about Lorena fucking Lopez,” Allison said, gripping my arm tightly. “Annika has wanted to trib with her since I was 9 years old, and you are not going to ruin this for me!”
“Okay we need to talk about this whole lesbian thing,” I said, but then I froze as Allison grabbed my crotch and began to massage it gently through my pants, melting my resistance.
“We can talk about whatever you want, big boy,” she cooed. “And you can do whatever you want to me. You can even have your freedom back, if you want. But only if I get to rub my pussy against Lorena Lopez' pussy. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I said, unable to control myself in the face of Allison's seductive touch.
A few seconds later I was standing at the edge of a 10 by 10 rug, staring across at a mousy grade school girl in glasses, hightops, and a purple track suit. Lorena leaned down and patted her daughter's head. “Lola honey,” she said. “Tell mommy the 4 principles of being an amazon.”
Lola looked up at her statuesque mother and smiled. “Titillate, dominate, humiliate, subjugate,” she said quietly as she pushed her glasses up on her nose.
“That's right,” Lorena said, pecking Lola on the forehead. “Now show mommy how you deal with loudmouthed males. Do it just like we practiced.”
As Lorena stepped back, Lola removed her glasses and undid her ponytail, tossing her hair about her shoulders like she was in a shampoo commercial, shedding her mousy visage and revealing herself to be a beautiful young woman. She looked at me with pouty lips and narrow eyes as she shifted her hips from side to side, vamping in a way that would have been seductive coming from an older woman, but was funny coming from a young girl. As I chuckled Lola began to unzip her track jacket. “Remember to bite your lip, honey,” Lorena said, “but just a little. You want to look reluctant.”
As instructed Lola bit her lower lip gently and looked up at me with bedroom eyes as she slowly began to unzip her track jacket. I noticed almost immediately that she was wearing a push-up bra, and that unlike most girls her age she actually had breasts to push up. They couldn't have been any bigger than B cups, but on her small body they looked very large. As a small crowd gathered around us, Lola slowly peeled off her jacket, arching her back and tossing her hair. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Allison groaned as Lola tossed her purple jacket aside to reveal a lean muscular torso, with broad shoulders, bulging arms and six sculpted abs, all wrapped in a red satin bra.
Lola smiled as she turned sideways and bent over, slowly pulling her pants down to reveal her lean curvaceous legs, thrusting her toned bottom out for display as she stepped out of her shoes and pants. She brushed her hair behind he shoulders as she stood up, making her impressively round bicep pop just a little as he other hand adjusted the waistband of her red satin panties. “That was perfect honey,” Lorena gushed. “Just turn your left leg a little to the side, like a fashion model.”
I swallowed hard as I looked across the rug at Lola. The mousy little girl I was being forced to fight was neither mousy nor little. She was as beautiful as a professional model and as muscular as a professional athlete. Sure Lola wasn't nearly as big as Kylie was now, but Lola was as big as Kylie used to be when she was 11. And when Kylie was 11 she used to beat me mercilessly. I reminded myself that I had gotten bigger and stronger over the past few years, but deep down inside I had a sinking feeling. I was going to be humiliated in public by a young girl. Again. “Rick,” Allison hissed. “You better not let that slutty little muscle girl beat you! Promise me that you'll win!”
That was a promise I wasn't sure I could keep. Lorena Lopez noticed my uncertainty immediately. “Lola honey, he looks scared,” she said. “What do we do when males look scared?”
Lola's body language and facial expression reverted back to that of a little girl as she turned to her mother. “Make ourselves look bigger, stronger and more dangerous,” Lola said mechanically, as if reciting a passage from a textbook. “Like dominant animals cowing weaker animals in the wild.”
Lola smiled, waiting for her amazonian mother's approval. Instead Lorena waved hurriedly, as if Lola was forgetting something. Lola immediately turned back toward me, her hands on her hips and her face once again wearing a sultry expression. Then Lola slowly raised herself to her tiptoes, her calves and quads bulging with lean angular muscle shapes. Then, as she looked down at her shapely but powerful legs, Lola began to spread her lats, slowly fanning them out as she grew wider and wider. Then, with a flirty wink, Lola raised her arms into a double biceps pose that showcased angular bicep peaks that looked as hard as rocks. The crowd was in awe, and camera flashes went off all around as people talked about how unlikely it was to see two improbably muscular young girls at the same event.
Lola relaxed her body and lowered herself down from her tiptoes, then began to sashay to the center of the rug, her walk the equal of any supermodel. Allison pushed me forcefully from behind, and I stumbled forward to meet the musclebound tween vixen. Lola extended her hand in sportsmanship, and against my better judgment I took it. No sooner had her tiny hand wrapped around mine then she began to squeeze. My hand screamed in pain, the bones and tendons straining under the young girl's iron grip. The pain was so intense that I dropped to my knees, and as soon as I did, Lola was upon me. “I have a black belt in judo,” she said as she took me by the collar.
A second later I was flying through the air, landing on my stomach. Then I was flying through the air again, my feet cartwheeling over my head as Lola flipped me onto my back. For second I felt the sensation of her legs wrapping around my right arm, but before I could react my right arm erupted with pain. Lola looked down at me as she locked in a textbook perfect arm bar. “One more thing,” she said with a wink. “I'm also the youngest person in the world to be awarded a black belt in jiu jitsu.”
The pain in my arm was so intense that I could feel it through my entire body. I tapped on Lola's rock-hard calf in surrender, but she wasn't letting up. Instead she raised on of her left foot off the ground and placed it on my face. “Kiss my foot, and I'll let you surrender,” she said.
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You talk up kylie and then you introduce a new character.. .really
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Well, it seems that Kylie might have a new friend, workout partner and perhaps lover, I would love it after Lola kicks Rick's ass, Kylie comes up to her and starts making out with her. Then her, Lola, Lorena and Allison walk out arm in arm, leaving Rick there on the floor, beaten and humiliated by a younger girl once again. I look forward to seeing what does happen! k+!
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Wtf is this story hahaha
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This is my face whenever Kylie isn't present :'(
This is me whenever I see Allison around :skim:skim:skim:
Looking at media, it has always annoyed me how either strong women are the boobs of steel, a super strong moe child, or for comedic effect (insult) you get a small girl transform into a man (ie Stella from Arakawa Under the Bridge or Biscuit form HunterxHunter). Even now, it's hard to find representation of strong muscular women in media, that whenever I see the Boobs of Steel trope emerge, I roll my eyes. I admit that the conflict between big brother being defeated so utterly by her kid sister stealing his girl is interesting, but to be honest I think Rick could do better than her (maybe hook up with Heather?)
Something that intrigues me about this story, is the pent up resentment Rick has towards Kylie, because he feels so inadequate next to her, but from the my scope, it feels like Kylie has grown way past bullying her brother. She's simply being bratty at a disrespectful older brother that does his best to put her down. We don't know much about how Kylie did bully Rick, only that she stopped on her own volition when she obviously could have kept going.
Not only this, but throughout the chapters, has Kylie beaten up her brother? Not really. Heck, not even when she discovered Rick hired some hitman, did she lose her temper. To top things up, you see Rick being flown around cross-country, get to sleep in his bedroom on a house that has been paid for (by his sister), and despite how little bitch Allison keeps trying to take advantage of Rick to be next to Kylie... Kylie keeps her distance (has kept her distance all this time). It would be fantastic, tbh, to see Kylie unmask Allison, exposing her in public, and encouraging her brother to move past her. Family after all, coming first.
Sometimes when I see these dynamics, of a stable family, kids acting bratty because of egos or childish resentments (take this from someone who was middle-child of a group of 3, and then got a parent married to another person with 3 children of their own, the amounts of conflict is undescribable ), how simply interesting a story would be of brother and sister simply sitting out, having a quiet talk and sorting things out peacefully. Let out that pent up roll out and in with all the good fuzzy feelings.
I'll eager will be waiting to see what happens next, hopefully Kylie gets even bigger (too bad she didn't have a growth spurt right on camera), and I want to see how she keeps maturing as a character. Because clearly, she-s as level-headed as they come....
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*How do we edit posts?*
@grbaclig I failed to notice if Kylie is aware of Allison disrespecting her mom? As I see it, a rain of pain is about to descend upon certain little manipulating bitch's ass... For 1) fighting and disrespecting Kylie's mom 2) using her brother to get to her, while degrading him in ways that not even Kylie has done. Ugh, poor Allison! XD
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Part 2, Chapter 22
I placed my lips against Lola's dainty foot and kissed, making sure it was loud enough to be heard. She released me, and was on her feet almost instantly. As I struggled to stand, she pranced around the rug, one hand on her hip, her chiseled body barely covered by her red satin underwear. “Arch your back a little more, honey,” Lorena coached. “Really stick your boobies out there.”
Lola obeyed, her young bosom bouncing as she strutted in front of the growing crowd while I struggled to my feet. “Please Rick,” Allison begged. “Lorena Lopez' pussy means so so much to me.”
I would have said something to Allison, but the second I was on my feet, Lola flashed toward me and scooped me onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry. I barely realized what had happened when I felt her little hands tighten around my belt and my collar, and she pressed me overhead like a barbell. And then she threw me to the floor where I landed flat on my back. I raised my hands to cover my face, fearful of Lola's next attack, but no sooner had my hands left the floor but Lola had grabbed them and bent them backwards with wrist locks. I was whimpering in pain as Lola stood above me, facing toward my feet, and lowered herself into the splits. Her thick muscular buttocks landed on my face with the force of a punch as the crowd around me laughed at my humiliation. “One more Lola honey,” Lorena cheered. “Make it a good one.”
With that, Lola drew herself up a foot off the ground, her powerful haunches and hamstrings quivering with tension, and dropped back down. Her butt knocked my head against the floor so hard that the room started to spin, and I felt a warm trickle of blood leaking out of my nose. “Now kiss my butt,” Lola said. “Or else I'm going to kill you with it.”
I placed my lips against one sculpted buttock and kissed, making sure it was loud enough to be heard. Lola released my hands and sprung to her feet, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked back to her mother, who hugged her emphatically. “That's my girl!” she gushed.
As I struggled to my feet, I thought that only one thing could make this worse. And then that one thing happened. “You have some legit moves,” Kylie said, the crowd parting in awe as she walked toward Lola and Lorena in white shorts and a white tank top. “And some legit muscles, too.”
Lola's face lit up and she hopped like an excited schoolgirl. “OMG, Kylie!” she cried.
Lorena was similarly excited. “Oh Kylie,” she gushed. “You were incredible last night.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said with a smile as Lorena lovingly stroked her hulking shoulders.
When Kylie turned her attention back to Lola, the younger girl exploded. “You're my heroine!” she said. “I want to be just like you! You're so big and so pretty, and you put men in their place.”
“I put men on their knees, begging for mercy, if that's what you mean,” Kylie said.
“It totally is,” Lola said, blushing as she looked to the floor. “Hey I'm only 11, but I'm super serious about lifting. Do you think sometime maybe, if it's OK, we could maybe train together?”
“Sure,” Kylie said. “You're really jacked. You might be able to keep up with me.”
“Kylie you can stay with us any time you're in Miami,” Lorena Lopez said, licking her lips. “For as long as you want. You can even use my bedroom if you want. In fact, I insist on it.”
Allison gritted her teeth and clinched her fists, and I couldn't tell if she was angry at me, Kylie, Lorena or all three of us. “Maybe you could just put a couple of lifting tips for girls on your Insta,” Lola said. “There are girls all over the world who want big muscles like yours.”
“I think you just gave me a great idea,” Kylie said with a smile. “But in the mean time, give me your number and we can Face Time next week. I'll teach you how to get big.”
Allison and I sat together during breakfast, but she wouldn't say a word to me. Instead she watched Kylie navigate a sea of journalists, sponsors, and fans. Kylie greeted each of her supplicants politely, but dismissed them within a few seconds, almost as if she was waiting for someone. Then Ty Tate and his wife Tonya sat down at the table next to ours, and Kylie's eyes snapped into focus. With a thin smile she walked to Ty's table. Ty pretended not to see Kylie as she glided toward him, her overdeveloped bosom bouncing in its tank top. Ty might have been ignoring Kylie, but his wife Tonya wasn't. She smiled and waved as Kylie approached. “Hi Kylie,” she beamed. “Your shoulders look awesome in that tank top. And your butt looks beyond awesome.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie replied without making eye contact.
Kylie stood next to Ty for a second as picked up his silverware, adjusting her hair as a pretense to flex her mountainous biceps. Ty's face was a grimace of resentment as he prepared to dig into his breakfast. But before his fork could touch his food, Kylie deftly snatched his plate away from him and dumped his breakfast on the floor. Silence fell over the dining room as Kylie set the empty plate back on the table. Ty stared at the table, ignoring Kylie and choking back his anger as he hoped for her to go away. I had done that same thing many times, and I knew from personal experience that it wasn't going to work. Kylie never just went away.
Kylie clasped her hands and began to flex her pecs, making them swell out of her tank top, so big and striated that they looked like pumpkins crammed into a white cotton sack. With a smile, she used her thumb to tug down on the neck of the tank top, exposing the lower ridge of her pectorals, where the three-inch thick slabs of muscle jutted out above her sternum. “Well,” Kylie said as she relaxed and flexed her gigantic pecs, “aren't you going to eat your breakfast?”
Ty Tate's face was twisted in anger as he looked at Kylie, grabbed his plate and stood up to walk back to the line. But Kylie with a few quick, graceful steps, Kylie moved in front of him to block his path. “No,” she said coldly. “Eat your food off the ground, like the pig that you are.”
Murmurs of excitement ran through the dining hall, where close to 100 people were watching my 13 year old little sister bully a five time Mr. Olympia as if he were a schoolboy. “Fuck you,” Ty said.
Kylie cocked her head, putting on a feigned look of confusion as she stuck out her left leg and began to flex her enormous quadriceps. “I don't think I heard you correctly,” she said. “Because I'm sure you meant to say 'yes ma'am', but it sounded like you said something very rude.”
“I said 'fuck you',” Ty repeated as he stepped to the side to walk past Kylie.
Without looking at Ty, Kylie stuck her left arm out to block his path. Not one to be deterred, Ty walked straight forward, forcing Kylie's arm out of the way. At least, that's what he tried to do. But he couldn't. Kylie's hulking musclebound arm didn't budge a centimeter as he pressed against it, or when he pressed harder. Kylie smirked as she pulled up her tank top, flexing her deeply cut abs and sculpted obliques, as well as exposing the undersides of her impressive breasts. “I'm going to say this nicely just once more,” she said. “Eat your food off the ground, like the pig that you are.”
“Fuck you, bitch!” Ty roared as he grabbed Kylie's left wrist with both hands and yanked with all his might, in an attempt to either move Kylie's arm or tear it out of its socket.
Whatever he was trying to do, it didn't work. Kylie rolled her eyes and then, with a flourish of her left wrist, freed herself from Ty's grip and clamped her left hand around Ty's wrist. As Kylie effortlessly twisted Ty's arm, the huge man's body followed, twisting as he fell to his knees in an attempt to prevent my little sister from snapping his arm. Kylie smiled as she flexed her right bicep, swiveling her wrist to make the towering peak pop and jump as she looked down at the former Mr. Olympia. “You told the sports network that my muscles were photoshopped,” she said as she scrutinized her titanic arm. “You can apologize be eating your food off the ground like the pig you are.”
“I'm going to kill you,” Ty groaned, turning red as Kylie continued to control his body by wrenching his arm. “When you let go of me I'm going to kill you, you little bitch.”
“OK,” Kylie said, releasing him. “Let's fight. Big man versus little girl. And we'll see who wins.”
Ty didn't hesitate. Still on his knees, he swung his big right fist down at Kylie, striking her on the squarely on her left shoulder. Kylie stood motionless, unmoved by his attack, and sighed. Then Ty launched forward, driving his shoulder into Kylie's stomach and grabbing her legs in a takedown attempt. Kylie stood motionless, unmoved by his attack, and giggled. Then Ty stood up and raised his fists overhead, slamming them downward with all his might, only to have them bounce ineffectively off of Kylie's enormous pectorals. Kylie stood motionless, unmoved by his attack, and laughed. I couldn't tell who was more amazed by Kylie's strength, Ty or the guests who watched him stare at her in disbelief as she rolled her gargantuan shoulders and cracked her neck.
“Now it's my turn,” Kylie said with a smile, and her open palm streaked toward Ty's face.
Kylie's slap landed like a car crash, and Ty's legs buckled beneath him as he fell to the ground. Kylie was right on top of him as he landed, his collar in one hand and his belt in the other as she dragged him to where his breakfast lay spilled on the floor. “Now eat,” Kylie ordered. “Eat it all.”
With tears in his eyes, the former Mr. Olympia ate his breakfast off the floor of the hotel, while my 13 year old kid sister flexed her gigantic biceps and smiled as the lobby filled with camera flashes.
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Well, it seems Kylie is still a bully, but I guess she's doing it to a guy who had decided to disrespect her and pretty much all of the female gender with his comments, so he deserved to be taken down a notch or two. Still, it is quite impressive to see Kylie overpower him with ease, and make him eat the food off the floor like a pig or a dog. I also like how the World might soon change because of Kylie, how girls of all ages may take up weightlifting and become strong and muscular like her. Though I'm hoping they don't all become bullies like her. Some guys deserve it, yeah, but not all guys do. k+!
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*How do we edit posts?*
@grbaclig I failed to notice if Kylie is aware of Allison disrespecting her mom? As I see it, a rain of pain is about to descend upon certain little manipulating bitch's ass... For 1) fighting and disrespecting Kylie's mom 2) using her brother to get to her, while degrading him in ways that not even Kylie has done. Ugh, poor Allison! XD
*In the upper right hand corner of your post there is a little icon labeled "modify". If you click it, you can edit your post.*
Kylie doesn't know that her mom had a fight and/or affair with Allison, although that is not explicitly mentioned in the story. Honestly, I haven't really put any thought into Kylie's relationship with her mom. But it's safe to say that Allison hasn't been in her last catfight. ;)
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Well, it seems Kylie is still a bully, but I guess she's doing it to a guy who had decided to disrespect her and pretty much all of the female gender with his comments, so he deserved to be taken down a notch or two. Still, it is quite impressive to see Kylie overpower him with ease, and make him eat the food off the floor like a pig or a dog. I also like how the World might soon change because of Kylie, how girls of all ages may take up weightlifting and become strong and muscular like her. Though I'm hoping they don't all become bullies like her. Some guys deserve it, yeah, but not all guys do. k+!
You've sniffed out a problem that I'm wrestling with. I'm going to have to determine with how Kylie's motivations and personality change as she matures. She really can't stay a wantonly spiteful bully her whole life--although I think she'll always be arrogant and self-centered.
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Man. What a marvelous return to Kylie. The way you had her totally emasculating the former Mr.Olympia was just classic Grbaclig. The more you write her the sexier she can only get, it seems. A Big Bully now indeed!
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I do find the story very entertaining, but it is too closely following the same direction many of the Becky Finkelstein stories do. I was hoping it would establish itself as being something totally different for variety's sake. Still, great work
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I love the introduction of the character Lola. Please write more of Lola.
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Yeah I like Lola and her personality ;) please write more of Lola ;)
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this story is something... can't wait for more!!!
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Part 2, Chapter 23
Autumn was over now, and although. Allison and I were still together for appearances sake, but she was becoming less and less involved with me. We never had sex, and I hadn't even seen her naked in two months. I thought about breaking up with her, but every time I saw her beautiful face or the way other guys looked at her in school, I hesitated. My sense of self worth was dependent on her.
The only good thing in my life was the fact that Kylie spent all of her time in her new house, and I hadn't seen her for nearly two months. The fact that Kylie was hardly at the house didn't stop reporters from showing up. Although Kylie refused to sign sponsorship deals that required public appearances, and although she only did interviews on websites and podcasts related to weightlifting, she was starting to get famous. Her dominant victory in the Mr. Olympia contest, coupled with the supplement ads showing her impossibly muscled body and overdeveloped bust, had made her one of the most talked about people in the sports world.
One Friday night, I had to turn off my favorite sports talk radio show, because they wouldn't stop talking about Kylie. One of the hosts was insisting that Kylie was a really short guy who had been surgically altered to look like a girl, and stuffed with muscle implants. He said that the Mr. Olympia contest was staged to capitalize on the booming market in women's athletic apparel and to mollify the feminist movement, and soon Kylie would be exposed as a fraud. How I wished that were true.
My sour mood improved, however, when I got a text from Allison, who agreed to come over and have sex. Allison may have been mean, and she may have grown distant over the past few months, but she was still the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. As we closed the door to my bedroom behind us, and a mischievous smile lit up Allison's gorgeous face, I felt a warm sense of wellbeing wash over me. Allison put her finger against my chest and playfully pushed me onto the bed as she puckered seductively, and I smiled. But my smile faded as she stripped off her green wool sweater and stepped out of her jeans. Allison had muscles.
She still had the hourglass figure, big boobs, round ass, and feminine hips that drove me wild, but now her body looked lean and powerful. She wasn't ripped like like Kylie, but she had chiseled abs like yogini and sculpted legs like a dancer. She wasn't huge like Kylie, but her shoulders, arms, and thighs were thick with muscle that put a lot of guys in school to shame. “What do you think?” she purred as she struck a double biceps pose, her fingers fanned and impressive peaks the size of lemons popping out of her slender arms. “Not bad for a couple of months, huh?”
I didn't know what to say. I never liked girls with muscles, and having to endure Kylie's constant flexing over the past few years only reinforced that dislike. But on the other hand, I was afraid to think of what a bigger, stronger Allison might do to me if I made her mad. “You look totally jacked,” I said uneasily. “You made some serious gains.”
“I know,” Allison said, kissing her biceps. “And check this out.”
Then Allison lowered her arms, and with a wink, began to flex her pecs so that her big round boobs hopped up and down and wobbled. I got hard instantly. “That's so hot,” I gulped.
“I know it is,” Allison laughed as she stroked her labia. “And I've been going crazy with kegels, too. Annika feels strong enough to crack walnuts.”
“That's so hot,” I gulped again.
Allison crawled on top of me and kissed me gently on the lips, her eyes burning with bad intentions. “I have an idea for something kinky,” she said. “Let's do it on Kylie's bed.”
My raging erection instantly began to fade. “What?” I asked. “Why would we do that.”
“It's kinky,” Allison said uneasily. “You know. It would be something different. Besides she never sleeps here anymore. All her Insta photos are at her new place.”
I was about to object when I felt Allison's moistened vulva rub against my member, and my will softened as my penis hardened. “We can do whatever you want,” I said.
A few seconds later we were crept into Kylie's room next door. As we closed the door behind us Allison closed her eyes, took a deep breath and smiled. A few seconds later I was on my back in Kylie's bed, with Allison perched atop my member, rocking back and forth with her eyes closed. She looked both sensual and powerful atop me, with her red hair flying wildly, her as her big breasts wobbling, and her newly developed abs flexing and contracting with every movement. Believe it or not, in that moment I actually found her muscles kind of sexy. I wanted to tell her how incredible she looked, but every time I tried to speak she shushed me and slapped me so hard that my voice died in my throat. After a couple of minutes of silent grinding, Allison's vaginal muscles began to tighten around my dick, and my body burned with a pleasure so extreme that I would have never thought it possible. Then she stopped. “This isn't working,” she said. “Take me from behind.”
She didn't have to tell me twice. I got up off my back, and Allison got on her knees. But then she buried her head in Kylie's pillow and breathed in deeply. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
“Shut up and fuck me,” Allison ordered as she gathered the pillows and bedspread to her body.
She didn't have to tell me twice. I threw everything I had at her, vigorously pumping away from behind as her muscular pussy constricted around me. When I finished, she yawned and flopped down on the bed. “Thanks for trying,” she said. “But this just isn't working anymore.”
“What's not working?” I asked defensively. “I was plowing you as hard as I could.”
“I know,” she said, absentmindedly stroking a sweatshirt that Kylie had left hanging on her bedpost. “It's just that I'm losing interest in guys. I can't really get aroused unless I've got hot bitches grinding on me. Rubbing me... Licking me... Hey is your mom around?”
My heart sank. “Well why do you even come over?” I asked, dreading the inevitable answer.
“You know,” Allison mumbled. “Just in case Kylie comes over. I haven't seen her in forever.”
After all these months of being used, it still hurt. As much as I hated Allison, I couldn't stop loving her. But she didn't even pretend that she cared about me. My eyes were starting to water with sadness and anger when I heard mom calling us excitedly from the den. Allison and I threw on clothes and ran into the den. I grumbled in frustration as I saw Kylie standing in the doorway, bundled in her parka. “It's our perfect little muscle princess!” mom cried “Oh Kylie you're all over the news.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said, taking off her scarf and boots.
“What brings you home, Kylie?” dad asked meekly.
“I'm having a hot tub and sauna put in at my place,” Kylie said. “They have to tear up pretty much everything. And soon I'm going to be doing some redecorating around here, too.”
“Oh isn't that exciting!” mom said. “Kylie is going to give our boring old house a makeover. Well I want to hear all about it. But first lets get that door closed so we don't catch cold.”
“Not yet, hold on just a second,” a lilting girly voice called from the porch.
A second later, a girl about Kylie's age walked into the house holding a suitcase, and closed the door behind her. She had glasses and black hair, and a full-length winter coat that covered her like a tent It was Lola Lopez, the girl who had beaten me at wrestling in the hotel lobby in the autumn.
“Is this one of your little weightlifting friends?” mom asked.
“This is my girlfriend, Lola,” Kylie said proudly, and the two of them shared a brief kiss.
Lola took mom's hand and gently kissed it. “Encantada, senora O'Reilly,” she purred.
“Oh what a charming little senorita,” Mom giggled.
But she stopped giggling as soon as Lola removed her coat. Beneath the heavy coat, Lola was dressed more like a Hollywood sexpot than a middle school girl, clad in a strapless red gown that was vented to the waist. And she had gotten bigger since I last saw her. A lot bigger. Not only was Lola's dress displaying her softball-sized shoulders and baseball-sized biceps by being strapless, its tightness was also displaying her bosom, which was now as big as Allison's, despite her small stature.
When Kylie peeled off her puffer parka, Allison almost fainted away. Kylie looked even bigger than she did when she won the Mr. Olympia contest, but it was her bustline that had really grown, overflowing from her tanktop like bread rising from pan. Normal breasts wouldn't have been able to muster a centimeter of cleavage when resting atop an expanse of muscle as big as Kylie's chest. But Kylie's boobs were so big that she had enough cleavage to conceal a cell phone, despite sprawl of her pecs. The two girls kissed again as Mom beamed. “Oh my perfect little muscle princess is in love!” she said. “Let's get you two lovebirds some hot cocoa. I want to hear all about your little romance.”
“That sounds lovely, thank you,” Lola said as Kylie took her arm and led her into the kitchen.
As the three women left the den, Lola turned around and shot a nasty venomous glance at Allison, who replied by growling like an angry dog. “What the hell is going on with you two?” I asked.
“It's an unspoken language that women share,” Allison said, her face still incomparably beautiful despite being twisted into a scowl. “Especially when one of the women is a slutty little bitch.”
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Great new chapter, I like it that Allison is jealous of Lola, and she has every right to be, here is an 11 year old girl who is superior to her in every way, not only that, but she's also Kylie's lover, something that Allison is desperate to be, but will probably not be, though Kylie has found her hot in the past. I guess we'll see if Kylie makes that decision or not, she seemingly could have any girl or woman she wants, judging by the reception she got at the Mr. Olympia. It's too bad that Rick now has to deal with the fact that his girlfriend is now a straight up lesbian, and I'm guessing Kylie was the one to turn her. Oh well, I know from your previous stories that there is no chance for a girl to want to be with a guy, so I'm not going to expect that, I just look forward to seeing what Kylie and Lola are capable of strength wise. k+!
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I think Alison is due a beating Lola will go through her like a hot knife through butter if she isn’t careful.
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The only obvious recourse for Allison is to get even bigger! Nice new chapter with a great lead-in to an even spicier continuation.
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I think Alison is due a beating Lola will go through her like a hot knife through butter if she isn’t careful.
Ooooooooooh yeah!!! My thoughts exactly, then Kylie can be the "trash compactor" to get rid of the garbage once and for all hehehehe
:rock:
@grbaclig Thanks for your comments in my fanfic! Never one can be sure how authors may react to fanfics (like banning them, etc.), so not sure if it was ok to post it. Glad you liked it, and I'm so following the rest of our story!
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Part 2, Chapter 24
A few moments later we were all in the den, drinking hot cocoa. Kylie sat in the middle of the loveseat, her head held high with an imperious air as if she were sitting on a throne. Beside her sat Lola with shoulders slouched, legs dangling off the couch and her glasses slipping down her nose. Lola's mousy affectations were a strange contrast with her voluptuous powerfully built body, as well as the scandalous dress that covered it. That contrast made me think of how she switched clumsily between a blushing schoolgirl and a domineering vixen during our fight in the hotel.
Mom sat on the other side of Kylie, while dad, Allison, and I sat on the couch. “I'm so happy to see you, my perfect little girl,” mom said cheerily. “I almost thought you had forgotten us.”
“I've been busy,” Kylie said. “I'm preparing to launch my website, I'm interviewing lawyers and agents, I'm working on designs for my own apparel line and of course I've been lifting.”
“My baby has beauty, brains and brawn,” Lola purred as she nuzzled Kylie's shoulder.
“That's great Kylie,” dad said softly. “And you mentioned some renovations?”
“I don't have anything major planned for this place,” Kylie said. “Just some heavier weights in the gym, and some nicer stuff for my room, since I'm going to be staying her for a while.”
Allison suddenly sat bolt upright, jumped off the couch and ran upstairs. She was back in a flash, and dad was still asking Kylie about the renovations that she had planned at cathedral she had converted to her new home. “I took the sheets off Kylie's bed,” she whispered. “They smelled like sex, and I don't want her to know that we were in there.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and thanked God that Allison was clever, as well as hot. A few years ago, when Kylie was 10, I made the mistake of going into her room without her permission to borrow her calculator for a math assignment. She noticed that it had been moved, and that night she forced me into a bare-knuckle boxing match, where she beat me so badly I had to miss school for three days. I could still vividly remember my haughty 10 year old sister standing over me, flexing her golf-ball sized biceps and laughing at me as I struggled to breathe, and my blood trickled onto the floor.
The pain was still vivid in my mind as I watched her casually flexing her pecs and traps as she spoke with dad, her muscles swelling like inflating balloons of tanned striated flesh. “I need to add some bedroom and bathrooms,” Kylie continued. “I'm going to hold an online contest next month. I'm going to choose three young women from troubled backgrounds, let them move in with me, and I'll be their life coach and personal trainer to help them get back on track.”
“Oh that's wonderful!” mom gushed. “My princess is saving the world, one woman at a time.”
“That contest sounds awesome, Kylie,” Allison said. “Why are you waiting to announce it?”
“I've been managing my public image very carefully,” Kylie said. “I don't want to get too much exposure too quickly and become a living meme, which is what the patriarchy loves to see happen to bold women. So the contest is going to coincide with the launch of my website, which will happen next month right after I win the World's Strongest Man competition.”
“They're never going to let you enter the World's Strongest Man competition,” I grumbled.
“My sponsors have hired Rachel Rhodes, the best entertainment lawyer in the world,” Kylie said, her eyes narrowing in anger as she turned to me. “She's working on filing a motion of wrongful discrimination right now. I thought about having my social media followers start and online petition, but Rachel said things would go faster if we don't ruffle any fragile male egos.”
“Do you think you can win?” Allison asked.
As Lola squirmed with excitement beside her, Kylie raised her right arm and flexed, very very slowly. Her bicep started off long and angular in a way that made me think of steel ingot, then it slowly swelled as it crawled up her arm, contracting into a ball of muscle that made me think of a cannonball. Its peak rose to her ear as it jostled with the obscenely bulging muscles of her tricep, forearm, pectoral, and deltoid. She was bigger now than when she won the Mr. Olympia competition, so big that she was able to pat her bicep peak with her tiny hand. As we gawked in amazement Kylie relaxed her arm and flexed her bicep again, and once again it rose into a mountain of muscle. It was a so big and so perfectly developed it looked like a bicep that belonged to a hulking monster in comic book or a anime, not like a bicep that belonged to a real live woman, let alone a 13 year old girl.
“I think you're going to dominate,” Lola said, giggling as she squeezed Kylie's tanned muscle-packed body close with girlish glee, as if she was cuddling with her favorite stuffed animal. Allison, mom, and Lola spent another hour singing Kylie's praises before we finally went to bed.
The next day, Allison awoke me with a violent shake. “Wake up,” she said. “That little bitch stole my earrings, and you're going to help me find them.”
“What?” I asked groggily.
“That little bitch Lola stole my earrings,” Allison said. “The pair with gold, pearl and emerald that look like daisies. Last night I set them on the nightstand, and this morning they were gone.”
“Maybe you just lost them,” I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes.
Allison's hand wrapped around my testicles, and I screamed as she began to squeeze. “I am not asking you, Rick,” she hissed. “I am ordering you. We are going to search your sister's room.”
Fear shot through my body at those words. Going into Kylie's room while she was away was one thing, but she now she was working out in the basement only a few yards away. Memories of a the beating from 3 years ago filled my head. I had gotten stronger since then, of course. But Kylie had gotten a lot stronger. Strong enough to beat 5 grown men with her bare hands. Strong enough to publicly emasculate Mr. Olympia. “W-we can't go into Kylie's room without her permission,” I stammered. “And she won't be done with her morning workout for an hour.”
“An hour?” Allison asked, releasing my balls. “That's exactly how long we need to search.”
A few seconds later we were in Kylie's room. In the light of day I could see that it was so clean, orderly, and well decorated that it looked like a movie set. Allison went through like a hurricane, opening drawers and turning over clothes, and I followed behind her trying to erase any evidence of our presence. “They're not in here,” I whispered desperately. “Let's go before Kylie catches us.”
Then the door slammed behind us and we turned around, startled to see Lola Lopez, dressed in a pink sweatsuit with her hair up in a ponytail. She locked the door behind her as she smiled. “You're going to wish it was Kylie that caught you,” she said.
In Lola's ears were Allison's gold, pearl and emerald daisy earrings. Allison's eyes narrowed and her hands bunched into fists. “Where did you get those earrings?” she asked.
Lola pulled herself up to her full height and thrust her chest out, now radiating confidence as she spoke. “I took them” Lola said. “That's what amazons do. They take what they want.”
“Take them out of your ears and give them me,” Allison said firmly, holding out her hand.
Lola laughed as she stripped out of her sweatsuit to reveal her sweaty muscular body, barely covered by a tiny pair of pink and black athletic underwear and a pink and black sportsbra that struggled to contain her overdeveloped bosom. “No,” she said. “I'm going to keep them forever.”
Allison took off her t-shirt and shorts to reveal her lacy white bra and panties. She moved slowly, stretching her muscle-etched body and smiling with satisfaction as her muscles popped into prominence. “Hand them over,” Allison growled. “Or I'll rip them out of your slutty little ears.”
“Come on you two,” I pleaded as Allison and Lola glared at each other. “Can't we just-”
I was halfway through my sentence when Lola drove her tiny fist into my stomach, hitting me so hard that that I slammed into the wall behind me. As I slumped into a heap, gasping for air and cradling my stomach, Allison stepped into the middle of the room and pointed an angry finger at Lola. “Don't you hit him!” she yelled at Lola. “He's my property, and no one hits him except for me!”
“He made me angry,” Lola said, shrugging. “If you make an amazon angry, you get punished.”
“I'd like to see you try to do that to me,” Allison said as she stepped out of her sandals.
“If you insist,” Lola said, cracking her knuckles.
Allison smiled nastily and began to take off her underwear. “Did you know that when the Olympics began, the athletes used to compete in the nude?” she asked. “I think they did that because being naked makes you feel primal and powerful. At least, that's how it makes me feel.”
“I did know that, yes,” Lola said, stretching her thick, curvaceous hamstrings. “But I don't think that's why you're taking your clothes off. I think you like to wrestle naked because it gives you a sexual thrill. I think you get pleasure from straining against a strong young body, and beating weaker people. And I think you like forcing weaker people into submissive roles to feed your ego. But I'm afraid you'll find that my strong young body will cause you pain instead of giving you pleasure.”
“On the contrary,” Allison said, “I'm going to take a lot of pleasure in kicking your ass.”
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@grbaclig Thanks for your comments in my fanfic! Never one can be sure how authors may react to fanfics (like banning them, etc.), so not sure if it was ok to post it. Glad you liked it, and I'm so following the rest of our story!
You can ban a fanfic? That's not my style. I'm always supportive of other writers. There's enough anger and negativity on the internet as it is. :)
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Hmm, I don't know why Lola would punch Rick like she did, all he was trying to do was calm the situation between her and Allison, doesn't seem like a rational reaction to that kind of thing, but I guess since Lola is an amazon, she doesn't hold to the way things are done normally. BTW, I didn't say this earlier, but I feel like perhaps Lorena Lopez and Rachel Finkelstein would get along very well, because they are like to drill female superiority into their daughter's mind. But yeah, looking forward to more, as always. k+!
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@grbaclig Thanks for your comments in my fanfic! Never one can be sure how authors may react to fanfics (like banning them, etc.), so not sure if it was ok to post it. Glad you liked it, and I'm so following the rest of our story!
You can ban a fanfic? That's not my style. I'm always supportive of other writers. There's enough anger and negativity on the internet as it is. :)
Ooooh yeah.... there's a lawyer out there for any purpose, goal, time of day.
(https://thumbs2.imagebam.com/7f/19/5d/274d141325928415.jpg) (http://www.imagebam.com/image/274d141325928415)
That !@$!$!~ of Anne Rice will always stick in my head. Too bad that after becoming religious she altogether decided to stop writing her vampire and witch books, too.... no fanfic, no OG stuff. Lame author.
https://kotaku.com/it-used-to-be-perilous-to-write-fanfiction-1826083509
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I've been living in a cave, hahaha
Anne Rice has resumed writing horror stories. Hahaha, I snubbed her after her shift.
Anyhow, I like how the climax is brewing in this new chapter. Not so interested on Lola fighting Allison (though I do a horse in this race...), but on what Kylie will do with the outcome, and wonder if the whole earring thing will turn into a "Affair of the Diamond Necklace" and send things plummeting for Lola. Frankly, I think it's stupid of her to do what she did, but guess it is mostly due to being a child still mentally, and the competition she detects from Allison. What kind of example is Kylie? It's really interesting, because well, in this chapter we do finally get more examples of the kind of stuff she used to have her brother suffer, but she doesn't seem to bully those who didn't deserve it (ie Mr Olympia tarnished her rep, though maybe having him eat like a dog, too extreme, what she did of IN YOUR FACE my muscles bigger than yours were enough public shame, IMO).
Truth be told, though, when you have such level of powers, societies norms and values are nothing to you, so Lola's reasoning does make sense....
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So, with the talk of the patriarchy and all, Kylie is becoming less and less of her own character and more and more of Becky Finkelstein just without the speech impediment. I like the content of the story, I just wish the character had done more to establish herself as something different. Maybe someone with different motivations. Still a good story. Was just hoping for it to go in a different direction.
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I like Lola more than Kylie. I think she's a very interesting character. I would love to read more from her. How she flexes her muscles in a sexy way to fear and seduce men.
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I like Lola more than Kylie. I think she's a very interesting character. I would love to read more from her. How she flexes her muscles in a sexy way to fear and seduce men.
I agree. I just feel like making Kylie super intelligent like she is made her less interesting of a character. And Lola seems more emotionally driven than Kylie, who seems almost robotic in comparison.
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I would say that Kylie does seem a lot like Becky, but I think her story is quite a bit different in a lot of ways, Becky never did what Kylie did, she sought to dominate in a smaller, more private setting, Kylie decided to prove her superiority to the World at large, pretty much, dominating the Mr. Olympia contest, and now she has plans to dominate the World's Strongest Man. While Becky was big and strong enough to do both those things, she decided not to. While I see a lot of parallels, I will say that Kylie is still interesting to me as a character, and I look forward to every new chapter grbaclig puts out, but I also agree that Lola being featured more would be very cool. I would love to see her overpower one of the World's Strongest Man competitors if he gets too mouthy about Kylie competing.
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Part 2, Chapter 25
Allison and Lola locked eyes and began to circle one another. Lola was nearly a foot shorter than Allison, but her small body looked powerful, packed with chiseled muscles that danced under her brown sweat-beaded skin as she moved. The room was so still that the reverberations of Kylie's music in the basement was the only sound to be heard.
Then Allison attacked. She screamed with anger as swung a she swung a tremendous uppercut at Lola's head. Lola had little difficulty anticipating the wild swing, and glided gracefully to the side, letting the punch whiz harmlessly past her. Allison recovered instantly, and threw a looping overhand right which Lola effortlessly ducked under, leaving her flatfooted when Allison swung a vicious left hook into the her stomach. Allison's punch was aimed at Lola's liver, and as always her fist rocketed unerringly toward its target. Allison had sent me crumpling to the ground with this exact same punch several times, and my body trembled as I remembered the sickening pain that it caused.
But unlike me, Lola was wrapped in deeply etched rock-hard muscle. Allison's fist bounced uselessly off the young girl's chiseled midsection, as if it were a brick wall. Allison stumbled backward, clutching her forearm as Lola laughed and put her arms behind her head. “That was very stupid,” Lola said as she began to wiggle her hips, making her eight perfect abdominals ripple as they danced with her obliques and ribs. “Why in the world would you try to punch me in the stomach? Can't you see how strong my core is?” Then Lola glanced at me. “Oh I understand,” she said, lowering her arms. “You were trying to pay me back for what I did to your boy toy. If I recall correctly, you also wanted me to hit you just like I hit him.”
I think Allison tried to dodge Lola's punch, or maybe she tried to block it. Whatever she tried to do didn't work. The scantily-clad 12 year old muscle girl moved with a blur of speed as she delivered a devastating right hook into Allison's stomach. Allison bent in half and fell to the ground gasping for air as Lola began to strut around her, vamping and posturing as she had done when she thrashed me in the hotel lobby.
But Lola had gotten bigger since then. A lot bigger. At 12 years old, her physique reminded me of Kylie at age 12, when Kylie won the Women's National Junior Bodybuilding Championship. Lola wasn't as big or as broad as Kylie, but she was bigger and broader than any girl her age should ever be. And there was no doubt that those muscles were as strong as they looked. Lola looked at herself in the mirror as she practiced puckering and pouting seductively, and adjusted her posture to see which poses best emphasized her sculpted, honey-brown physique.
As Allison struggled to her knees, Lola stopped her prancing and pounced. In a second, Lola had Allison lying face down, with her legs clamped around Allison's neck and her knees digging into Allison's shoulders. From where I sat on the floor I could see Allison's face, which was turning red, and I could see Lola's backside which bunched with power as she squeezed her thick, sharply-defined calves around Allison's neck. Allison grunted as she pounded ineffectively on Lola's musclebound legs and tried in vain to force Lola out of balance. “Do you like this?” Lola asked with a smirk. “Isn't this what you wanted? To feel my strong young body against yours?”
“Fuck! You!” Allison spat.
“You swear like a misbehaving child,” Lola said. “So I'm going to spank you like one.”
Lola bent over, making a show of the way her glutes and hamstrings flexed as she did, and whipped her tiny hand against Allison's perfect round ass. Allison squeaked as Lola's hand struck the smooth flesh of her buttocks. I couldn't tell if the squeak was from pain, pleasure or a combination of both. And then Lola spanked her again. And again. Allison's body went slack as Lola continued to spank her beautiful butt, and she began to moan. When the spanking finally stopped, and Lola stepped away to admire her handiwork, Allison was breathing heavily and every bit as sweaty as Lola. “You slutty little bitch!” Allison hissed as she leapt at Lola from her knees.
“You still haven't learned your lesson, I see,” Lola said, easily slipping out of Allison's grasp.
I had gotten a first-hand demonstration of Lola's grappling skills in the hotel as she threw me around the floor, but it was even more impressive to see them from a distance. Her muscular young body moved like water as she flowed behind Allison, and wrapped her sweeping thighs around Allison's waist. Before Allison could react to her legs, Lola trapped Allison in a bear hug from behind, pinning Allison's arms against her sides, and squeezing Allison's bare tits together. Allison's head rested against Lola's impressive bust, despite her struggles to free herself from the younger girl's powerful embrace. “Let go of my tits you little whore!” Allison spat.
Lola clicked her tongue as she looked down at Allison. “Maybe spanking doesn't work on girls like you, because you are too used to it. Maybe I need to find a more sensitive part of your body to punish?”
And with that, Lola slid her fingers over Allison's nipples and began to twist them forcefully as she rubbed the heel of her foot into Allison's pelvis. Allison shrieked as she thrashed about, unable to pry herself loose from Lola's musclebound arms and legs. She flopped and bounced across the floor, but Lola remained steadfastly clamped to her, twisting Allison's nipples with her tiny fingers and grinding her dainty foot into Allison's crotch. Finally Allison shuddered, her body went limp, and she began to cry. Lola laughed as she released my girlfriend from her inexorable grasp, examining herself in the mirror as she stood over her sobbing victim. “You thought you were stronger than me, didn't you?” Lola crowed. “You thought you would wrestle me to the ground and grope me like, didn't you? Torment me like a helpless victim? Is that what you thought?”
“Yes,” Allison whimpered.
“But you're not stronger than me, are you?” Lola demanded as she stroked her own hips.
“No,” Allison mewed.
“No you are not,” Lola said. “In fact, I can break you in many ways. So many ways.”
Allison curled up in shame, humiliated, as she continued to cry. The musclebound 12 year old had dominated her with ease, and played with her like a toy. But despite everything that Allison had put me through, all the humiliation and emotional abuse, I still loved her and I had to do something. My stomach was still screaming with pain when I threw myself at Lola, catching her by surprise and knocking her off her feet. A second later I was on top of her, my hands wrapped around her girlishly thin neck, squeezing. I looked down at Lola, feeling once again the shame I felt when she threw me around the hotel reception room last summer, not for one second thinking that I might break the neck of a 12 year old girl.
If Lola was worried, she didn't show it. Her face was calm as her hands clamped around my forearms, squeezing with such incredible force that my hands went slack, while at the same time she planted her feet against my stomach and pushed me into the air. Then, with a little smile, Lola kicked her legs and I went sailing through the air and crashed into the wall. The shelves rattled and I watched in horror as Kylie's most treasured possession, an antique porcelain figurine of the Greek goddess Athena given to her by our great-grandmother, fell to the floor and shattered. “Oh fuck!” I wailed.
The fear on my face must have been obvious, because both Allison and Lola looked instantly concerned. “What are you screaming about?” Lola asked, trying to maintain her unflappable visage.
“That little statue,” I stammered. “Kylie got that from our great grandma Sue. She was Kylie's idol, and Kylie cares more about that than she does about anything else in the world. She's going to kill us!”
Lola laughed. “She'll kill you, maybe,” she said. “And maybe poor little Fleabites, there.”
“You don't understand,” I said, my eyes filling with tears. “Two years ago my cousin Ronnie came to town when he finished his tour of duty with the Marines. He picked it up just to look at it, and Kylie almost killed him. We tried to pull her off, but she was too strong and too angry. She just kept hitting him and hitting him. He was in the hospital for a month. I'm telling you shes going to kill us!”
Lola and Allison exchanged a worried glance. Then, all at once, we noticed that we were sitting in silence. The music in basement had stopped, which could mean only one thing: Kylie was done lifting, and would be coming upstairs.
Allison, Lola, and I looked at one another nervously. I was about to speak when the brass doorknob began to turn. Then it stopped turning. I remembered that Lola had locked the door, and for just a second I felt safe, as if I had gotten a reprieve. Then the knob fell from the door in a dozen pieces of busted metal as if its internal mechanisms had been torn apart. And that was exactly what had happened. The door slowly swung upon to reveal Kylie, her hulking muscles and bountiful breasts bulging out of a two piece workout kit made of neon blue spandex, a scowl on her face and a ruined metal doorknob in her hand. “What are you all doing in my room?” she asked coldly.
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I would say that Kylie does seem a lot like Becky, but I think her story is quite a bit different in a lot of ways, Becky never did what Kylie did, she sought to dominate in a smaller, more private setting, Kylie decided to prove her superiority to the World at large, pretty much, dominating the Mr. Olympia contest, and now she has plans to dominate the World's Strongest Man. While Becky was big and strong enough to do both those things, she decided not to. While I see a lot of parallels, I will say that Kylie is still interesting to me as a character, and I look forward to every new chapter grbaclig puts out, but I also agree that Lola being featured more would be very cool. I would love to see her overpower one of the World's Strongest Man competitors if he gets too mouthy about Kylie competing.
Another difference is that Becky was always an outcast with a chip on her shoulder, while Kylie was always a spoiled girl who acts cold and aloof.
But to weaponzero's point they take very similar actions with somewhat similar motivations.
If I had really sketched this story out beforehand, I probably would have developed Kylie differently--or at least handled her development differently. Instead I'm writing this on the fly, just to see how much halfway-decent work I could push out in two-hour bursts. I honestly never intended this story to be this long, but I kind of know how I want the rest of it to play out now.
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Wow, I wonder what Kylie's going to do with Lola and Allison after they broke the statue of Athena, I think both girls put together and Rick added on with them wouldn't be able to stop Kylie from doing whatever she wanted. Kylie is going to be angry as hell, 11 year old Kylie was a lot less strong and she almost killed a marine just for touching it, I can only imagine what she will do now that she's probably 4 times stronger now than she was then. I guess we'll see. But I look forward to it! k+!
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Errr.... only wished that Kylie's most prized possession was something more personal, and less plot-thick than an Athena statue. Grandma's gift? Maybe a monkey with tamborines doll? Hahaha. Only think that the Athena statue feels kinda forced into the whole Amazon, goddesses thread.
I do however love how easily Lola took care of Allison, don't feel she went far enough. So for next chapter, here are the highlights:
1) A wailing older brother Rick in the verge of cardiac arrest as he sees his life flash before his eyes, prolly pissed on himself after seeing hulking Kylie grasping a broken doorknob.
2) Whimpering bitchy Allison, mopping that she didn't get to cup a feel of Lola's body, still fuming over her earrings, and trespassing Kylie's domain.
3) Lola that -was- defending herself from attack, even when she DID provoke it by her stupid theft of some earrings...
4) Hulking Kylie, probably now wider and bigger than the freaking dorway, pissed at seeing people in her room.... easily capable of dealing with those three with a single one of her fingers.
WHO willlll.... get the biggest punishment?
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Yes. What I hope to see is that, in the interest in their own survival, Lola and Allison have no choice but to try to work together against Kylie when they see Kylie is so angry she's seeing red. And that the two of them together still won't be enough
Grbaclig, is there any way I can message you on anything?
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Errr.... only wished that Kylie's most prized possession was something more personal, and less plot-thick than an Athena statue. Grandma's gift? Maybe a monkey with tamborines doll? Hahaha. Only think that the Athena statue feels kinda forced into the whole Amazon, goddesses thread.
I do however love how easily Lola took care of Allison, don't feel she went far enough. So for next chapter, here are the highlights:
1) A wailing older brother Rick in the verge of cardiac arrest as he sees his life flash before his eyes, prolly pissed on himself after seeing hulking Kylie grasping a broken doorknob.
2) Whimpering bitchy Allison, mopping that she didn't get to cup a feel of Lola's body, still fuming over her earrings, and trespassing Kylie's domain.
3) Lola that -was- defending herself from attack, even when she DID provoke it by her stupid theft of some earrings...
4) Hulking Kylie, probably now wider and bigger than the freaking dorway, pissed at seeing people in her room.... easily capable of dealing with those three with a single one of her fingers.
WHO willlll.... get the biggest punishment?
I would absolutely love it if 4 happened, even if it probably won't.
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I'd also would love to see that happening, geez.... seeing a super strong girl rendered to a ragdoll by someone even stronger, and a small antish Allison jumping in clinging like a spider on Kylie's towering body as her survival instincts kick in, telling her that... fuck fight off Kylie or you'll die (yet, Kylie is far too much for them).
The thing that intrigues me the most, is the image of a blubbering Rick, that can't even breathe properly because he bowls over crying, and Kylie staring at him with an eyebrow raised a la Rock, wondering "Wtf is this dude's problem??", because she's aware how utterly fragile and insignificant Rick is, the very reason she's actually avoiding physical punishment on him for so long... is because she's actually afraid she'd squish Rick without evey wanting to. So better not touch the ceramic vase hahaha. She doesn't want to accidentally destroy someone lol
:singing:
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Part 2, Chapter 26
We all stumbled over one another with panicked explanations as Kylie entered the room, her 13-year-old body so massively pumped that she had to turn sideways fit the doorframe. She ignored us as she tossed the doorknob on the ground, where it landed with a 'clunk', completely deformed where Kylie had crushed it like tinfoil with her small but powerful hand. Then her eyes fell instantly on the shattered figurine of Athena, and we all fell silent. Kylie bent down and quietly picked up the fragments of porcelain, her tiny fingers darting about with mechanical precision. We all shrunk into the same corner as she walked across the room and placed the porcelain fragments in a small decorative box that she kept on her desk. She looked at them silently for a moment, then she turned toward us, her face obscured by her massive trapezius muscle.
Lola stepped forward, her sculpted body slumped and drawn inward, as if in supplication to my titanically muscular kid sister. “Kylie,” she said softly, “I apologize for damaging the trust that we-”
Lola didn't get to finish her sentence. Kylie spun around, her jaw set and her nostrils flaring, and hit Lola with a backhanded slap that sent the muscular young Latina tumbling to the floor, where she landed in a heap next to Allison. “This isn't about trust,” Kylie growled through barred teeth. “This is about respect. No one is to set foot in my room without my explicit permission.”
Kylie walked slowly toward the girls, her eyes wild and burning with anger as one muscle after another began to ripple and flex, straining against the shiny neon blue two-piece as if she was fighting to control them. First her left pectoral erupted into a thick segmented block of tanned flesh, and no sooner had it relaxed then her right pectoral did the same. Then her biceps twitched, quivering as their incredible bulk contracted and relaxed. Then her quads tightened, causing her vastus muscles to erupt into columns of chiseled muscle that looked ready to pop from her legs, even as the interstitial muscles supporting them sprang to life. The two girls cowered in fear as Kylie stood over them, her sprawling mass casting a shadow that covered them both. “It's Lola's fault,” Allison pleaded. “She-”
Before Allison could finish, Kylie reached down and grabbed Allison and Lola by their necks. They squirmed as Kylie slowly lifted them off the ground and into the air, her arms showing no signs of effort beyond their normal shredded muscularity. “So you two bitches pump a little bit of iron, and now you think you're strong enough to disobey me in my house and get away with it?” Kylie demanded.
I recoiled in fear as Allison and Lola, both of whom were strong enough to beat me senseless, struggled against Kylie, trying in vain to pry her fingers away from their throats. “And on top of that, you're breaking my things!” Kylie continued. “Well maybe I should break something of yours. Maybe I'll start with your spines and go from there?”
Then, with a scowl, Kylie slammed the two girls to the floor so hard that I could feel the house shake under me as I struggled to my feet. Allison and Lola were just beginning to recover from the concussive force of the impact when Kylie grabbed them by the hair on the back of their heads and jerked them up to their knees. “Ow, Kylie that hurts so bad,” Lola pleaded. “I'm going to cry.”
“Oh, Kylie that hurts so good,” Allison moaned. “I'm going to cum.”
Kylie ignored the girls' entreaties as she walked to her desk, and began to lift them up by their heads. As Kylie directed their heads to the decorative gift box that held the remains of her prized statuette, Allison and Lola struggled to get to their feet or to find purchase on the desk. “Look at that,” Kylie ordered. “My great grandma Sue was an Olympic athlete, a beauty queen, and a suffragette. She did more with her life by age 19 than you two skanks will ever do if you live to be 100, and she did it without the rights and privileges that bimbos like you take for granted. Great grandma Sue gave me this before she died to remind me of the inherent power and wisdom of women. And you two broke it.”
“It was Rick,” Lola sobbed. “He bumped the wall and it fell from the shelf.”
An icy fear gripped my heart as Kylie growled, throwing Allison and Lola to the ground again. “Rick would never come in here without my permission,” she hissed. “Unless someone made him.”
Allison shrank into trembling ball, tears brimming in her eyes as Kylie glared at her. “It was Lola's fault,” she sobbed. “She stole my earrings. My favorite earrings that look like daisies, with-”
Allison's voice was muffled instantly as Kyle scooped her up like a ragdoll and put her in a headlock, squeezing Allison's face into her gigantic right breast as Allison's face turned red. Kylie looked down at Allison, whose neck was bent back unnaturally, and whose limbs were thrashing wildly. “Why did you do it, Fleabites?” Kylie asked. “You know how weak Rick is. And you know how nice I've been to you. Are you trying to make me angry? Are you trying to mess with my feelings?”
Allison's only response was a pained whimper. “Kylie stop it!” Lola yelled “You're killing her!”
Lola was right. Allison's body was twitching, and her eyes were rolling back in her head. Lola's eyes flashed with panic, the same panic that I felt as I saw Allison's life slipping away before my eyes, knowing that there was nothing I could do to free her from my impossible powerful kid sister. But while I sat paralyzed with fear, Lola sprang into action, wrapping both of her arms around Kylie's wrist and pulling with all her might. But to no avail. Lola may have been strong enough to throw Allison and I around like toys, but no matter how hard she strained, she was unable to budge Kylie's gargantuan arm. As Allison began to go limp Lola began to hammer her fists on Kylie's chest. “Kylie stop it!” she cried, her fists bouncing helplessly off Kylie's huge, throbbing pectorals. “You'll go to jail!”
Kylie ignored Lola's pleas, and instead turned to me. “Why did you trespass in my room Rick?” she demanded. “You know that no one is allowed in my room without my explicit permission.”
“I was afraid to say 'no' to Allison, because stronger than me,” I confessed. “I'm so sorry.”
Kylie's eyes flared with anger. “You're afraid of her!?” she shouted. “This little bug that I'm crushing right now? You think she's strong? No Rick, I'm strong. You need to be afraid of me!”
With that, Kylie flexed her left arm, her towering sweat-beaded bicep erupting into a boulder of vein-streaked power. Lola leapt on her and wrapped her muscular limbs around Kylie's right leg, trying to pull Kylie off balance using her judo. “Let her go, Kylie,” Lola pleaded. “She's not worth it!”
Without relaxing her left arm, Kylie reached down with her right hand and grabbed Lola by the throat, loosening her headlock just enough for Allison to gasp for air and twist her body in an attempt to escape. But she didn't escape. Kylie clamped down again, and Allison's head disappeared in between Kylie's gigantic bicep and enormous breast. Lola struggled against Kylie's grasp, using her muscular legs to kick Kylie in her stomach and legs, an assault to which Kylie responded with a giggle.
As Lola continued to grunt and kick, Allison's hand fumbled around Kylie's desk, finally grabbing a 10 pound dumbbell that Kylie used as a paperweight. Allison then began to slam the dumbbell repeatedly into Kylie's back and arm, an assault to which Kylie responded with a laugh.
Then Kylie turned her attention back to me. My 13-year-old little sister looked every bit the most muscular human being on earth as she strode easily toward me, her tanned body bulging out of her neon blue workout kit in every direction, Allison and Lola both completely subdued by one of her impossibly muscular arms. “Stand up, Rick,” she ordered, her voice flat and calm.
“It's not my fault,” I explained. “Lola threw me into the wall.”
“Then you should have landed more softly,” Kylie said. “Alternatively, as an 18-year old guy, you should have been able to win a fight against a 12 year-old girl. Or at least not lose as badly.”
“Kylie, I'm so sorry,” I wept. “I'll fix it. I'll make-”
My words died in my throat as Kylie wrapped her left hand around my jaw and slowly lifted me into the air as if I were no heavier than a feather. As she glowered at me, my feet dangled off the ground, and the strain on my neck and shoulders got worse with every passing second. “No Rick,” she said. “I'll fix it. That way it will get done correctly. Bur first I have to fix you.”
Kylie's slender fingers tightened around my jaw, and I could feel the tendons straining under the pressure of her grip. Then she dug her fingertips in, and I felt one of my bottom molars pop out of its socket. And then another. “It would be so easy for me to kill you, Rick,” Kylie said. “I could crush your empty little skull like an eggshell. Or I could grind you under my feet like the worm that you are.”
Kylie flung me down, my shoulder and head erupting with pain as I slammed against the floor, blood and teeth dribbling out of my mouth. “I'm so sorry,” I whimpered. “Don't kill me, Kylie. Please!”
“You're thinking about uncle Ronnie, aren't you?” Kylie asked as she released Allison and Lola, who gasped for air as they lay at Kylie's feet. “You're thinking about how I beat him so badly that he had to be fed with tubes, so badly that he still can't walk correctly. You're thinking about how he was so much bigger then than you are now. And about how I'm so much bigger than I was then.”
Kylie was right. That's exactly what I was thinking about. And as her muscles swelled with power, I felt a warm spot forming in my underwear as I wet myself. “I'm so sorry,” I sobbed. “Please.”
“Do you know what I'm thinking about, Rick?” Kylie asked. “I'm thinking that it's been a long time since we played Mercy. Probably over a year.”
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Kylie easily dominating these three, especially Allison and Lola, who I think are probably immensely strong with how easily they have handled Rick before, it really puts it into perspective how strong Kylie must be, not that her crushing the doorknob to her bedroom didn't really establish that before, but there is essentially nothing that the three could do to stop her if she decided to kill one of them. Which makes the story take a turn, essentially before now, Kylie has been hurting people, their body and their ego, but she has stopped before she has permanently damaged them (unless you count Uncle Ronnie, who two years later, still can't walk right.) Now it seems that Kylie is unstoppable by most normal means. As someone who is not that much into violence in these kinds of stories, I don't exactly find this scenario to be all that appetizing, but perhaps it will be resolved without too much harm being done. I guess we'll see. k+!
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Holy Moses, this chapter has me on the edge of my seat....
So Kaylie didn't simply overpower the doorknob, she actually crushed it like tin foil. Man, I'm so concerned for Rick, because Kylie's logic seems so dodgy: she knows how easily Lola can overpower the other two, and how Allison by force alone make Rick whatever she wants, so he's there entirely against his will. Then add that, by the force of Lola's throw, I doubt he could've sailed the skies and braced himself for impact to avoid knocking down the statue.
Heck, this makes me believe that the whole idea of "eye for an eye" was tossed out of the window, because so far, Rick has actually suffered the heftiest price (losing his molars), and now is to probably have his hands disintegrated in a game of Mercy? Allison and Lola should be considering themselves so lucky, now that Kylie's focused on her brother. Speaking of Lola, wow, powerful, young, and noble. Even though she's an idiot for stealing something, she did her best to protect insignificant Allison. Of course, we know that Lola might as well been an ant, because her strength had no impact whatsoever on Kylie. Allison still lives simply because Kylie willed it.
Nice chapter.
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Kylie's just looking for an excuse to hit him, she won Mr. Olympia by age 13, she knows damn well how much weaker than her he was even when she was younger, she knows damn well how much weaker than Alisson he is, she knows damn well how much weaker than Lola they both are... She can't ask him to not lose that badly against Lola. Well, she can, but given how smart she's supposed to be, that's just bias.
(Also, her grandmother ain't no suffragette, Kylie's the granddaughter of Zeus and another goddess)
Still, even though I'm not a fan of the theme or how over-the-top it is, it's a nice chapter.
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Even though I'm usually not a fan of short musclebound girls, Kylie doesn't seem to suffer too much from a lack of height. Love her throat lifts and how she doesn't have to resort to lower forms of combat, such as punching and kicking, in order to dominate absolutely everyone. She can just use her incredible strength and strength alone. And I love her cruelty!
Some more comparisons of how large her muscles are compared to her weak adversaries' bodies—purely for imagination. ::)
Great and compelling story!
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Wish I had seen this soon. Wow, great story.
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Part 2, Chapter 27
I scurried into the corner of Kylie's room, working out of primitive animal fear more than any hope that I could escape her. She took a step toward me and flared her expansive lats, her hulking frame spread so wide that she seemed to block everything else from my sight. “You know that great grandma Sue was my favorite relative,” Kylie said, raising her arms a bit so that her lats could pump even bigger. “She gave me my first set of free weights when I was 10. Remember?”
I was too scared to answer. Kylie turned to the side and adopted a side-triceps pose, showcasing the crab-claw of bulging muscle on the underside of her arm, her arm which was bigger around than my head. “Great grandma Sue gave me that statuette a week before she died. And I held it in my hands as I promised her that I would always be strong. And you broke it. You broke the only physical object on earth that matters to me. So now I'm going to break you.”
Kylie was so close to me now I could smell her sweat, and I could feel the gravity of her massively muscled body as it bulged and rippled before me. I covered my face with my hands, more from a desire to avoid Kylie's steely gaze than from any hope that I could protect myself from her. But that illusion of security dissolved instantly as I felt Kylie pull my hands away from my face, and interlock our fingers. And just like that, the memory of past humiliations came rushing back to me.
I remembered the first time that Kylie had challenged me to a game of Mercy. She was only 9 years old, and although she was very fit from gymnastics, she was a little girl with tiny slender fingers and an angelic face. I laughed as I entwined my fingers with hers, but one second later I stopped laughing, two seconds later I started begging for mercy, and three seconds later I started crying. My life changed forever that day as I looked up through tearful eyes at my 9 year old little sister as she flexed her muscles triumphantly over me, and laughed. A few weeks later for her 10th birthday, Kylie got her first set of free weights, and every day since then she had grown bigger and stronger.
Now, three years later, Kylie was still a little girl with tiny slender fingers and an angelic face. But now she had muscles. Huge muscles. The biggest muscles on earth. I trembled as I felt her little fingers tighten around my hands. “Hey Rick?” Kylie asked. “Remind me again, are you right-handed or left-handed?”
“R-right handed,” I blubbered.
My right hand screamed with pain instantly as Kylie began to squeeze. “Mercy!” I begged.
But Kylie didn't let up. Kylie never let up. Instead she squeezed with her left thumb and index finger, smiling silently, as I felt my right index finger snap like a wishbone. The pain was horrible. I squealed and a chill ran through my body. Then Kylie squeezed her left forefinger and left middle finger, and my middle finger snapped as well. I was squirming with pain now, my legs and body twitching even as my hands were held still by Kylie's unbreakable grip. “Mercy!” I pleaded again.
“You know I don't have any mercy,” Kylie giggled as she snapped my ring finger.
I screamed out in pain now, tears running down my face, as Kylie began to laugh. Then she snapped my little finger. As I howled and blubbered, Kylie shifted the pressure of her grip to her left thumb and left little finger, and began to squeeze them together, and one by one I felt bones snap in my hand. The pain was unbearable, and now only choked bleats were escaping my throat. “That was a pretty fun game,” Kylie said, releasing my hands. “But I'm done playing games and it's time to get serious. I just don't understand why, after all these years, you don't respect my muscles.”
“I respect them,” I whined. “I respect your muscles. I respect them more than anything else.”
“Then why don't you act like you do?” Kylie demanded. “You tell me to stop showing off, you tell me that I'm not strong enough to bench 300 pounds. You tell me that I'm not big enough to flex out of my dress. You tell me I can't win the Mr. Olympia contest. You come in to my room in my house and break my things. Does that sound like respect!?”
“I'm sorry,” I whimpered, scooting along the wall to try to put distance between myself and the brutal musclebound bully that was my 13 year old little sister. “I'll never disrespect you again.”
“I'm afraid I can't believe you, Rick,” Kylie said, rolling her segmented, striated, volleyball-sized shoulders. “Now stop squirming while I think of your next punishment.”
My heart was pounding with panic, and there were a million fears racing through my head, all of them involving Kylie's enormous muscles. And then some deeply ingrained animal portion of my brain took over, and I ran. Scrambling through across the room, I flung the door open with my left hand and ran downstairs. But in my panic my foot caught as I reached the bottom of the staircase and I landed on my right knee. I began to scream and cry, dragging myself into the den, followed by the sound of the stairs creaking under Kylie's weight. I pulled myself onto the couch and nursed my knee as I began to scoot toward the door to the garage, fumbling for my car keys. Mom appeared in the den, no doubt curious about the source of the thumping and screaming sounds that I had made. Allison and Lola appeared a moment later, both of them now fully dressed, and with visible bruises from their confrontation with Kylie. “What in the world happened to you three?” Mom asked.
“I happened to them,” Kylie said, the other three women parting like servants as she walked into the den. “And I'm not done with Rick. He needs to learn his lesson. He needs to be humiliated.”
“If you say so, my perfect little muscle princess,” Mom said, shrinking away from her daughter.
Kylie walked toward me slowly, her golden brown skin bulging out of her neon blue leotard, and a smirk of unshakable confidence on her face. I tried to stand, but my knee felt like jelly when I tried to move. I thrashed about in panic, desperate for a way out. As I groped about, my left hand found one of dad's golf clubs propped up against the wall, and in an act of desperation, I swung as hard as I could at Kylie's head. With her usual cat-like grace, she glided backward to dodge my swing.
But somehow, some way, I managed to hit her. For once in her life, Kylie's reflexes were imperfect, and the head of the golf club clipped her nose. Allison, mom, and Lola gasped as a trickle of blood began to dribble out of Kylie's left nostril, I felt fear take hold of my heart, paralyzing me like I was in a nightmare. “Did you... hit me?' Kylie asked. “Did you hit me in the face with a golf club?”
“I'm so sorry!” I cried. “Oh God I'm so sorry, please don't kill me!”
“No one hits me in the face, Rick!” Kylie bellowed. “No one! Not ever!”
“Richard, how could you hit your little sister with a golf club!?” mom screamed, running to Kylie.
“Oh my perfect beauty,” Lola wailed, throwing her arms around Kylie. “Are you hurt?”
“You hit her in the face, Rick!” Allison screamed as she fell at Kylie's feet. “How could you attack something so beautiful!? It's like you tried to set fire to the Mona Lisa!”
I couldn't believe it. A minute ago, Kylie nearly killed Allison and Lola, and now they were doting over her. It was evidence of the sway that she held over them, partly by means of their fascination with her impossible physique, and partly by means of her domineering attitude. She could abuse them, and they still worshiped her. It was just one more testament to her power.
Kylie pushed the three other women away as she closed her eyes, her jaw clenched and her nostrils flaring. “Obviously, I can't make you respect me, Rick,” she said. “So I'm going to have to make you fear me. And for whatever reason, you're not afraid of my muscles. But I know one thing that you're afraid to even look at. Well two things, technically.”
With that, Kylie grabbed the neckline of her top and tore it open, letting the neon blue fabric drift to the floor, her enormous bare breasts wobbling as she freed them from their shimmering spandex sheath. As Kylie put her hands on her hips and proudly thrust her chest forward, I closed my eyes in embarrassment. “What's wrong?' Kylie taunted. “Afraid of your little sister's great big boobs?”
“Put those away," I pleaded. "I can't be looking my own sister's tits. This is super messed up!”
“If you think looking at my boobs is messed up, you're really going to hate this,” Kylie said.
Then I felt her huge sweaty breasts envelope my head. She began to squeeze them together, making them tighten around my head like a prison of soft adolescent flesh. It was like being trapped in a nightmare. Not only was I being sexually humiliated in the most inappropriate way imaginable, I was struggling to breathe, and with every gasping breath I drew, my nostrils filled with the scent of Kylie's sweat. I could hear only muffled suggestions of sounds, and my eyes could see nothing, filled by the swelling of Kylie's boobs as she squeeze them tighter and tighter. I was completely without air now, and my face was starting to ache. I tried to pry Kylie's arms away, to relieve the pressure on my head, but my hand struggled to find purchase on her massive forearms. I tried to push her breasts aside, to allow me some air to breath, but my hands disappeared into the pillowy softness of her flesh. I even tried to hammer at her sides with my fist, in the vain hopes that I could make her release me, but her muscle-packed ribs and obliques were as hard as rocks and I had to stop, lest I wind up with two broken hands. As my thoughts grew fuzzy and I began to lose sensation in my limbs, I did the only thing that I could do. I stopped fighting back.
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Now, I won't say that a lot of what is happening to Rick is undeserved, because yes, he has been a complete prick to Kylie, but I do feel that maybe Kylie has gone a step or two over the line here, I guess my feeling is that the fact that Kylie is so superior to him in every way is part of the punishment, so breaking the bones of his hand, his dominant hand, the hand that he uses to write and who knows what else with, so it's unusable for months and months, I don't get off on that kind of violence. Usually when I read these stories, I have a more open mind about things, I tend to like a lot of stuff when it comes to strength and muscle on girls, so it pains me to say that the last two chapters have flat done nothing for me. You are a great writer, with great description, whose previous chapters have been great to read, and I enjoyed a lot, but there's something that just turned me away. I still look forward to her conquering the World's Strongest Man contest, but not as much as I was a couple chapters ago. I'm not going to say change that you should change your style for me, write what feels best to you, I will continue to read. k+!
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Poor rick. He didnt deserve that bad
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I finally found a weak point in Kylie!! Her sense of smell!! Can't she smell Rick pissed on himself in clear sign of terror?
This chapter really changes things for me, Kylie's mom is such a bitch. Not interfering at all? Okay to see Rick get a dismantled hand and in psychological distress, and okay with it?
Of course, that does tend to happen a lot around abusive people, were out of fear people don't act afraid of angering their abuser...
As for Rick,ehh... I guess for the good boy things have turned a scrumptious turn hahahahaha. Dang. Sorta random see things get to where they are, so let's just see what happens next!
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Honestly, it's a bit overboard. And I can't imagine a mother who can easily look how her own child is badly hurt and nearly killed.
I believe, your next story should be really vanilla like to compensate this
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The mother is kinda meh, but Rick deserves what he gets and worse.
1. He's a total pussy.
2. He's been nothing but negative towards his superior sister at all times. She wins the Ms. Olympia and he just mopes. He doubted her at every turn.
3. He went into her room when he knows he's not allowed.
4. And let's not forget. He sent a gang after her to violently beat her. A few broken fingers, some missing teeth, and boob smothering is something he should be grateful for. His sister could do serious permanent damage to him without any effort & he'd deserve it all.
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I think the Mom is in part afraid of the daughter AND has extreme pride in her accomplishments, which helps explain her, "oh my daughter is destroying my son, ok, my son attacked my daughter? NO!".
It is clear that a lot of character's morals and sense of self are warped by Kylie's body, although it seems so far mainly females who are affected by her.
Now....possible plot twist. In the story all the females in Rick's life, despite him being strong, are way stronger than him right? What if this had something to do with dear old grandma, and Athena? What if Rick did something to piss off grandma and she had called upon Athena to curse Rick (sometime before the game of mercy).
Until Rick gains the wisdom to respect female strength, they will always be able to overpower him, and grow stronger beyond normal limits.
Kylie is obsessed with growth so she always goes to the next level, and she may even have been granted a boon by Athena to grow stronger as well and perhaps explain her apparently supernatural hold on females.
I am going to concur with Jeremy in that if prefer shows of dominance using strength and not inflicting of lasting physical harm (broken bones and the like).
Anyway, again, overall great story. I dig the mega confidence of Kylie, even if I don't her more sadistic side.
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Honestly, it's a bit overboard. And I can't imagine a mother who can easily look how her own child is badly hurt and nearly killed.
I believe, your next story should be really vanilla like to compensate this
I can. Happens far too often. Mom's that let their kids be killed by their partner, be them their boyfriend, or the kid's step dad. Few months ago, I saw a news story of a girl that died in a terrace after she was locked there. Unfortunately, things like this happen so very often. Though in my headcanon I was hoping for a stabilizing force within the story, but turns out mom is nothing more than a Stepford Wife for Kylie.
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I like how the story is progressing. In the end, Allison wasn't completely heartless, even though she's infatuated with Kylie. And even though Kylie is a bully, she doesn't go out of her way to punish Rick, and does have some sound reasoning when she does so, as even though Rick is coerced by Allison, he should've known better that Kylie would be a lot worse. If he ends up in the hospital, I'm sure that when he wakes up he'll learn from the TV or the nurses how Kylie won the WSM competition...
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Remember the Becky stories where her mom was about ready to chop off her own daughters arms with an ax. The parental figures in his stories are not the most stable
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Part 2, Chapter 28
I don't remember losing consciousness, but I remember regaining it. I was in a hospital bed, with Allison and my mom by my bedside. “Richard?” my mom's voice called. “You've been unconscious for six hours. The doctors set the bones in your hand and fit you for some false teeth to replace your molars. Oh, I just hope Kylie is alright. Being pretty is so important to girls her age.”
I couldn't believe my ears. I was recovering from surgery, completely without the use of my dominant hand, and mom were worried about the tip of Kylie's nose. It wasn't fair, and I began to cry. But then things got worse. “Don't worry, I'm fine,” called a familiar voice from the door.
My heart sank as Kylie strode into the room wearing soccer shorts and a white t-shirt, both of which were tight enough to showcase both her feminine curves and hulking muscle, Lola Lopez on her arm. “Oh Kylie,” Allison sighed. “Thank God your nose is... your nose is... even prettier?”
It was hard to argue with her. Kylie had always been beautiful, with fine symmetrical features, pouty lips and sparkling blue eyes, and anyone would have been hard-pressed to find an imperfection in her face. But still, somehow, her nose had healed into a subtly different shape that made her even prettier than before. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “It worked out perfectly, since I'm going to be photographed so much over the next couple of months.”
The four women left my room, chatting merrily , and as they left, mom accidentally jerked my IV cord loose. I called after them as I pounded on the call button, but they ignored me. When the nurse finally came to reattach my IV, all she could talk about was the beautiful blonde girl with huge muscles that she saw in the hall, and how incredible she looked. It was as if I wasn't even there.
That evening Kylie gathered me, Allison and Lola around the dining room table. She stared intently at the center of the table, as if she was choosing her words carefully. “I owe you all an apology,” she finally said, her voice uneven as if she was speaking a foreign language.
I couldn't believe my ears. I had known Kylie her entire life, and as far as I knew she had never apologized to anyone for anything she had done. She had always refused to apologize to all the kids at school that she bullied mercilessly, she refused to apologize to cousin Ronnie for the beating that hospitalized him, and she sure never apologized to me. I didn't know what to say. “Kylie, I-” I began.
As soon as I began to speak Kylie's blue eyes locked me in a threatening gaze, and I fell silent and shrank back into my seat. “I lost my temper earlier today, and I hurt all three of you,” she continued. “And I want you to know that I'm sorry. I was so angry that I wanted to hurt you, and I wanted to scare you. And although I still feel that my anger is justified, because none of you should have trespassed in my room, I should have never allowed myself to lose control.”
Lola was seated at Kylie's right, and took her right hand tenderly. “Kylie,” she said. “I know it isn't easy for you to apologize, and I appreciate you showing us this vulnerability. But the physical pain that you caused is trivial next to the emotional pain that you caused. I hope you understand that.”
Kylie looked Lola in the eyes. “I'm trying to understand that,” she said, “but honesty, I can't imagine what it would feel like to be at the mercy of someone who was strong enough to overpower me effortlessly, the way I overpowered you. I've never experienced those feeling, because I've always been stronger than everyone else in my life. Maybe that's why I sometimes forget how powerful I am, and how easy it is for me to hurt other people. That's something I need to work on, and I hope that I haven't damaged our relationship irreparably.”
Kylie was sounding more like herself every second as her apology changed into an accusation of trespassing, and then into boasting about her strength. Allison was seated at Kylie's left, and took her left hand tenderly, electing a hateful glare from Lola. “It was totally scary,” Allison said. “But we all forgive you. It's so hard to be 13 years old. So many new emotions. It's a real rollercoaster.”
I didn't forgive Kylie. Allison and Lola only suffered a few bruises, while I had a broken hand and missing teeth, all in spite of the fact that I hadn't done anything wrong. Kylie had been pushing me around four the past 4 years, and it was going to take a lot more than some self-serving apology to make me forgive her for the years of beatings and humiliation. I wanted to tell Kylie that I didn't accept her apology, but as I looked at her and saw her gigantic rock-hard muscles and her huge pillowy-soft breasts, I felt puny and ashamed. So I hung my head as she continued talking. “That's true. It's also true that I'm a very passionate person.” As Kylie spoke she stroked Lola's hand, and Lola blushed and giggled. “So in order to help me manage my temper, I need to ask you all to do me a favor. Please don't do anything to make me angry. If you do, I'm worried that I might not be able to control myself.”
This was too much. What had started off as an apology had now become an admonishment. I was about to call Kylie out on her flagrant attempt at social manipulation, when Lola spoke. “Of course not,” she said. “We only want to support you. That's what love is all about.”
Allison nodded. “Totally,” she said.
My face was burning with anger now. I couldn't believe the sway that Kylie held on Allison and Lola. It was as if they were hypnotized by her beauty, strength, confidence, and muscularity. I felt an objection forming in my throat, but I was afraid to speak up. I was squirming in my seat when Kylie turned to me. “And Rick,” she said, struggling with her words. “I want to thank you.”
“Thank me?” I asked sheepishly.
“Yes,” Kylie said, taking a deep breath, as if she uncomfortable with the very idea of gratitude. “Not only did you make me prettier by hitting me with that golf club, you also gave me a wakeup call.”
“A wakeup call?” I parroted.
“Yes,” Kylie continued. “I spent seven years in gymnastics, I've been all state in 5 different sports, and I have black belts in seven martial disciplines. I should have dodged that swing with ease. But I've been pre-occupied with building strength and mass, and my speed and flexibility have suffered for it. I really need to stop lifting and focus on pure athleticism, at least for a little while.”
“Are you sure you want to stop lifting the week before the World's Strongest Man competition?” I asked. “Aren't you afraid you might lose?”
The three girls looked at me silently for a moment. Then they all burst into laughter. “How could I lose, with muscles like these?” Kylie asked, flexing her massive double-headed biceps, her t-shirt splitting into shreds as her upper body swelled with muscular power, leaving her bare chested at the dining room table as Lola and Allison ogled her openly.
“Thank you for that joke, Rick,” Lola said. “That really cut the tension.”
“As if Kylie could ever lose at anything,” Allison chuckled as she wiped a tear from her eye.
A week later, we were driving to the airport, to fly to Brazil and watch my 13 year old little sister compete in the World's Strongest Man competition. I stared at Allison as she flicked through her phone. She had been making steady gains in the gym, and although she had some impressive muscle definition on her shoulders and thighs, she looked more slender and curvaceous than ever in a tight blue dress that hugged every inch of her body. My eyes went from her silky legs to her round butt to her tight tummy to her jutting breasts to her perfect face to her shining red hair, and I sighed. There was no doubt in my mind that she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and that I was lucky that she allowed me to even be near her. For better or worse, I was in love with her.
And for the first time in months, it seemed like she was in love with me, too. After being humiliated by Lola, and nearly killed by Kylie, she had gotten noticeably kinder. When we held hands, her grip was tender as opposed to the controlling death grip that I was used to, and she hadn't so much as raised her voice at me, even when I was late to our appointments. I wanted to ask her what she was feeling and why she had changed, but as she set down her phone and nuzzled her head into my shoulder, I decided not to push my luck. “What were you watching?” I asked.
“The male competitors are being total dicks about Kylie,” she told me, handing me her phone. “It's like the Mr. Olympia all over again. I can't believe how nasty men get when they feel threatened by women. Just look at this garbage.”
Allison clicked on a video where a man with a shaved head, a bushy beard, and trapezius muscles that came up to his ears was being interviewed by the sports network. “I know damn sure that little girl's muscles ain't real,' he said. “I don't know what kind of junk she put into her body to puff her up like that, but it ain't gonna help her move weight. People can put oil in their muscles to look big if they want, but that don't mean nothing if their muscles are weak and soft. And little girls can lift all the little girl weights they want, but that don't mean nothing if they're competing with grown men.”
“That's Bill Booker, he's acting tough because he's the world's strongest man,” Allison said, as a smile spread across her face. “We'll see how tough he is after he meets the world's strongest girl.”
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I think the Mom is in part afraid of the daughter AND has extreme pride in her accomplishments, which helps explain her, "oh my daughter is destroying my son, ok, my son attacked my daughter? NO!".
It is clear that a lot of character's morals and sense of self are warped by Kylie's body, although it seems so far mainly females who are affected by her.
This is what I'm going for, although I haven't really developed the mom much, so it probably doesn't show in the story.
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this is a masterpiece...
please go on!!!
K+
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Gods no, 6 hours skip from last time? :*( So many unanswered questions!!
1) Did anyone try stop Kylie or did she stop on her own?
2) What happened immediately after the breast smother started and before Rick regained consciousness?
3) Who paid the hospital bills?
IMO, wish Rick summoned the courage to talk-back to his sister. And lay it down "Sure, fck it, I know you can kill me like a freaking gnat any time you want. Maybe it would be better that way, cuz you're destroying my life. Look at Lola, she's a goddamn tank, no way I could've stop her. That bitch Allison.... hahaha, it's not question that I fear her more than you, it's that SHE HAS ENOUGH strength to force to do stuff I don't want to do. And btw, she's heads over heels about you, we can't even have sex now. So screw you!! Now go ahead and smoosh me between your forearm and bicep, I don't care anymore!!"
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You know, I am a bit glad that this chapter went the way that it did, first of all, it showed a bit more personality of Kylie than she had ever shown before, and it showed that she is not completely evil and flawless, though I would say that I also like the reason that she decided to stop was that he made her realize that she was building her strength too much, which I think may be more than enough to win the WSM contest, but now she's going to concentrate on pure athleticism, which makes me wonder what else she would be able to do to show off her athleticism? I look forward to seeing it! k+!
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>:D Excellent work Grbaclig. It's been a slow build, but Kylie is approaching Becky levels of hotness.
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Great chapter. Now we see what happens to Bill Booker - the strongest man, but only second strong human on earth.
Will Allison become more muscular herself?
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I hope Allison sees how easily Kylie handles these strong men and challenges one of them herself.
Really great story you have going here.
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Part 2, Chapter 29
Our hotel in Rio De Janeiro was amazing. Not only was it luxurious, but it was full of warm sunlight, tropical plants, and beautiful women. Allison and I were lying on the balcony, soaking up sun and napping off our jet lag. Allison was still watching videos of the World's Strongest Man competition on her phone. “Anything interesting?” I asked.
“Pretty much all the press coverage is about Kylie,” she said with a smile. “It's actually kind of funny how angry the guys are getting. Here, check out the stuff from today's feed.”
Allison held up a phone, which showed another interview with Bill Booker, looking visibly upset. “you know what, I don't even think she is a little girl,” he grumbled. “I think she's just a short dude with a good plastic surgeon and an even better steroid dealer. But non of that ain't gonna help when it's time to lift serious weight, and you have to pass a hundred drug tests beforehand.”
“Ugh, did you hear that?” Allison fumed. “Girls Kylie's age are so sensitive, and the last thing they need is someone criticizing their appearance in front of the whole world.”
I laughed, and Allison glared at me. “Kylie isn't sensitive,” I snorted. “Besides, she's hardly insecure about her appearance. You've seen the way she struts around in those skimpy outfits. She flexes her muscles and poses every chance she gets, even at the dinner table.”
“Yeah...” Allison said with a faraway look in her eyes. “God she totally does.”
Just then a text message popped up on my phone. “It's Kylie,” I said, disbelievingly. “Kylie sent me a text. She hasn't sent me a text in like 5 years.”
Allison hopped up in her seat like it was Christmas morning. “What did she say?” she asked.
“She's asking if we want to see the Royal Suite her sponsors got for her,” I said.
A few minutes later, Allison and I stepped off the elevator into the luxuriously appointed, window-lined suite of rooms that took up the entire top floor of the hotel. In the center of the sun room, Kylie stood in a lacy white bra and panties with several pairs of shoes laid out before her. “She's gotten bigger,” Allison gasped. “Rick she stopped lifting like a week ago, but she's still gotten bigger.”
It was hard to argue with her. Bathed in sunlight from every direction, Kylie's body looked horrifyingly muscular. Her waspishly thin abdomen was rippling with dozens of tiny muscles that framed her eight deeply gouged abdominal muscles, the sprawling wings of her lats above, and the jutting globes of her glutes below. Her thighs were the size of tree trunks, with calves that popped out of her legs like rugby balls. Her pectorals swelled up and out in every direction so that they completely covered her collarbones and jostled with her striated delts, and her biceps were as big and round as grapefruits even when relaxed. On her right was Lola, holding a measuring tape, and on her left was a beautiful black woman, stylishly dressed sporting a pair of glasses, and with her hair up in afro puffs. All around Kylie were sketch pads, measuring tapes, and swaths of fabric. “This is Jasmine Jenkins,” Kylie said. “You probably know her from all the red carpet dresses that she makes for award shows.”
“OMG,” Allison said. “Jasmine Jenkins! I absolutely loved the dress you made for Princess Honey. You made her tits defy gravity, even though they're huge. What are you doing here?”
“Kylie has given me the honor of designing some dresses for her,” Jasmine said giddily.
“Every other designer I've ever talked to said I was too big to look glamorous,” Kylie said.
“That's not true. They just lack the skill and vision to do it,” Jasmine said. “Kylie, your body has curves that no other woman can compare with, and for someone like me, that presents a great opportunity for artistic expression. You're a perfect synthesis of power and femininity.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said. “What were my measurements again?”
“51-24-47,” Jasmine recited. “With an M Cup bust. I'm imagining something very daring.”
“Daring is when grandmas show cleavage,” Kylie scoffed. “I want dresses that are scandalous. I want dresses so sexy that they have to blur me out on TV. I want give off so much feminine energy that men are afraid to look at me. What's the point of having a body like this if you can't show it off?”
“Let's hurry and finish your measurements, then,” Jasmine said. “So I can get started.”
“I'll help!” Allison said as she ran to Kylie, and grabbed a measuring tape which she played with giddily as Lola stretched her tape around Kylie's massive thigh.
“36 inches,” Lola said, as Kylie smiled and the thick cables of muscles in quadricep began to contract. “37 inches?” Lola gasped with disbelief. “38? Oh Kylie, your legs are so big and so pretty.”
Lola's lips trembled as she leaned over and kissed Kylie's vastus muscles, leaving ruby red lip prints on the teardrop-shaped hocks of muscle that bulged above Kylie's small knees. “I'll measure your arms, Kylie!” Allison said, hopping up and down excitedly.
“That's probably not necessary,” Jasmine said. “It would be a crime to cover arms like Kylie's.”
“Do they even make sleeves big enough for arms like mine?” Kylie asked, as she curled her arms upward, and her gargantuan biceps erupted into mountains of perfectly tanned muscle.
Allison threw herself at Kylie, and stretched the measuring tape around her bulging, quivering left arm. “29 inches?” Allison sighed as she held the tape in front of her, staring in disbelief. “Oh my God Kylie, your arms are bigger around than your waist. And they're so hard. So... hard.”
Allison began to run her hands up and down Kylie's arm, tracing her fingers along the muscle cuts as Kylie smiled smugly. “Yeah, I know,” Kylie said. “You can stop groping me now.”
“I don't think I can,” Allison laughed as she rubbed both her hands over the surface of the thick, double-headed boulder of Kylie's left bicep, her lips puckering and her knees trembling.
“Here, let me help you,” Lola said, slapping Allison so hard she fell to the ground.
As Allison rubbed her reddening cheek, Kylie put her arm around Lola's waist and pulled her close, pecking her on the cheek. “You didn't have to be so mean to Fleabites,” she said.
“I don't like when other women touch you,” Lola pouted, stroking Kylie's massive delts.
"Can you blame them, though?” Kylie asked smugly as she examined her body in a nearby mirror, smiling contentedly at the way her lats, triceps, and delts swelled against one another.
The sun was setting when the opening ceremonies began for the World's Strongest Man competition. A huge section of the beach was marked off, and all the events were set up: the giant dumbbell press, the Hercules Hold, and even the Anchor Stone. But everyone was focused on a makeshift stage with chairs, massage tables, and water bottles where the competitors would wait between events. Allison and I got front row seats as Kylie's guests. “Are you with Kylie?” asked a beautiful Brazilian woman wearing a bikini top and sarong.
“We totally are,” Allison smiled.
“I have a huge girl-crush on her,” the Brazilian woman said. “I hope she wins.”
“She's going to dominate,” Allison said, and the two women giggled with glee.
Then an announcer with a booming voice opened the ceremonies and began to introduce the competitors. One by one the huge men filed out, thick and stout in baggy shorts and ti-shirts, and took their seats in a line in heavy duty folding chairs with nameplates on the back. The chairs were identical except for Bill Booker's chair which was a large throne reserved for the defending champion that sat at the front of the line, and Kylie's chair which was a pink folding chair festooned with a big pink bow that sat at the very end of the line. “And finally,” the announcer said, “competing in her first WSM Competition, standing 5'3” and weighing 275 pounds at 13 years of age, Kylie O'Reilly.”
The women in the crowd cheering furiously, screaming and whistling, as Kylie strode out onto the stage. The difference between Kylie and the other competitors could not have been more obvious. Despite the red high heels she was wearing, she was a foot shorter than the men. While they were all dark-haired and thick-featured like neanderthals, her blonde hair and angelic beauty were unmistakably feminine. And while they were all stout and doughy like powerlifters, her body was lean and shredded like a bodybuilder. And her lean, shredded body was fully displayed by the sequined American flag-patterned sling bikini that she wore on stage.
Camera flashes filled the twilight air as Kylie hit one pose after another, showing off the rippling bulk of her gigantic muscles and the soft jiggle of her enormous breasts. The men grumbled in frustration and tried to ignore Kylie's nearly naked adolescent body, even as the photographers and reporters flocked to her. As she was interviewed, Kylie continued to flex her muscles. She stroked her towering bicep as she answered a question about her academic future. She turned her back to the crowd and flexed her deeply dimpled glutes as she answered a question about her diet. She spread her lats, her tits nearly popping out of the sling bikini, as she answered a question about her wardrobe with a joke that made the assembled reporters erupt with laughter.
Once again, it was all about her.
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You know, I am a bit glad that this chapter went the way that it did, first of all, it showed a bit more personality of Kylie than she had ever shown before, and it showed that she is not completely evil and flawless, though I would say that I also like the reason that she decided to stop was that he made her realize that she was building her strength too much, which I think may be more than enough to win the WSM contest, but now she's going to concentrate on pure athleticism, which makes me wonder what else she would be able to do to show off her athleticism? I look forward to seeing it! k+!
Thanks Jeremy. The violent confrontation in Kylie's room was supposed to be where long-simmering tensions boil over, changing the arc of all the main characters. It feels like the story's about 2/3 over, so it's probably time for that.
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Haha, I should boo you for stopping before getting to the part that I wanted to see, but I guess you know what you're doing, as I am hooked and very much awaiting how this World's Strongest Man Contest goes for Kylie. My guess, not only does she win, she breaks every record in every event and makes it look easy! But even though I am anticipating that, it still will be awesome to actually read it, which I'm hoping will happen the next chapter. k+!
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the muscle cuts as Kylie smiled smugly. “Yeah, I know,” Kylie said. “You can stop groping me now.”
This part alone made me skip a beat... Only imagining how cute Kylie's face looks while surrounded by her monstrous muscles. It's awesome to see that Kylie keeps getting more muscular despite qutting strength-training, want to see her jacked like no other!
@Jeremy I did like previous chapter, but the timeskip really leaves a huge opportunity hole for me, like for instance... In my head I imagine Rick trapped in Kylie's breast smother, thrusting like a fish out of water, too insignificant to do anything (maybe even unintentionally aroused due to the "predicament"). After a few minutes of this, Kylie's clearly staring at her brother, and after a few minutes to cooldown realizes the damage she's causing/caused Rick... and as a cherry on top, Lola intervenes, realizing she can't physically stop Kylie, she simply appeals to her better side by fessing up that she acted childishly by stealing the earrings, and that she regrets causing the whole incident and begs Kylie to stop before any permanent brain damage due to asphyxiation...
As a reward for this noble behavior, Kylie has lesbian sex with all the girls assembled: Mom, Allison, and Lola. Outlasting the three of them in stamina!! Hahahaha
So... yeah, 6 hours leaves a huge chunk of time for so many things to happen!!
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Part 2, Chapter 30
The World's Strongest Man competition started at 9 AM the next morning, and Allison and I had front-row seats. There were thousands of people gathered on the beach to watch, and we began to cheer as the competitors walked out to take their seats on the makeshift stage.
The men were dressed the same as they were the night before, in t-shirts and shorts, but they now wore weightlifting belts around their girthy midsections. Kylie had chosen to wear pink soccer shorts and a pink t-shirt, an outfit that was was more practical than her spangly sling bikini, but still quite revealing. The t-shirt was as tight as spandex, showcasing the muscles of her back and shoulders, as well as the shape of her gigantic boobs and the of imprint of her nipples. It was also stretched to its limit by her massive torso, revealing a few inches of her abs, which were plainly visible since Kylie wasn't wearing a weightlifting belt. The shorts would have been modest on any other woman, but struggled to contain the massive orbs of Kylie's buttocks and her monstrously thick thighs.
As the competition began with fanfare and applause, it was plain to see that all the reporters and photographers were focused on Kylie. Her tanned skin, perfectly coiffed blonde hair, bare feet, and confident smile made her stand out from the scowling drably attired men in tennis shoes that sat on the stage with her. And of course there were her muscles. Even from a distance, it was plain to see that my 13 year old kid sister was more muscular than any of the strongmen she was competing with. Kylie's hulking body was bulging with muscles that dwarfed her fellow competitors, despite the fact they were carrying lots of extra body fat, while she was lean and ripped.
The first event was the giant dumbbell press. Two circles were marked off in the sand with black paint, and sitting at the center of each circle was a 210 pound dumbbell. Two competitors would face off, one in each circle, to see who could raise the dumbbell from the ground to their shoulder, then press it overhead as many times as they could in 60 seconds. Most of them were able to complete 7 or 8 presses before time expired, but Bill Booker was able to do 12, which was 1 more than the current world record of 11. On his way back to the stage, he passed Kylie, who was preparing for her turn at the dumbbell press. “I hope those fake muscles of yours don't deflate when you try to lift grown man weight,” he said.
Kylie rolled her eyes and tossed her hair as she turned her back on Bill, and walked to her circle in the sand. Kylie was competing against a huge Icelandic man named Magnus, who smiled at her as she approached. “Little girl, you should really wear a weightlifting belt,” he said warmly.
“My name isn't 'little girl', it's Kylie O'Reilly,” Kylie sneered in response. “And weightlifting belts are for weaklings with flabby guts and no core strength. Weaklings like you.”
And then the horn sounded. As Magnus struggled to heft his dumbbell up to waist, Kylie plucked her dumbbell from the sand with her right hand, thrust it overhead and dropped it back into the sand, completing her first rep. As Magnus struggled to raise his dumbbell to his shoulder, Kylie plucked her dumbbell from the sand with her left hand, thrust it overhead and dropped it back into the sand, completing her second rep. As Magnus struggled to press his dumbbell overhead, Kylie plucked her dumbbell from the sand with her right hand, thrust it overhead and dropped it back into the sand, completing her third rep. As Magnus trembled beneath the weight of his dumbbell before letting it drop, Kylie plucked her dumbbell from the sand with her left hand, thrust it overhead and dropped it back into the sand, completing her fourth rep. The crowd chattered with excitement and disbelief as, rep after rep, Kylie effortlessly pressed the oversized 210 pound dumbbell into the air. When the horn sounded to end the event, Magnus had completed 6 reps. Kylie had completed 24, doubling the world record that Bill Booker had just set a minute earlier. As Kylie raised her arms overhead, the sleeves of her t-shirt began to split around the swelling of her massive shoulders, showing glimpses of her triple-headed, volleyball-sized delts.
The crowd cheered, and as Kylie walked back to her pink folding chair on the stage, she stopped in front of Bill Booker's throne. “I guess I didn't have to worry about my muscles deflating,” she said. “In fact, it looks like they're actually getting pumped, just by lifting that tiny dumbbell. See?”
And with that Kylie raised her arms in a double biceps pose that made the crowd jabber with excitement. She smiled haughtily as the sleeves of her t-shirt were torn to shreds by the swelling mass of her throbbing, muscular arms. As Bill Booker gawked in disbelief at my little sister's 29 inch biceps, she pumped her arms again, holding her right arm directly in front of his face as it contracted into a sculpted peak of muscle so large it completely concealed his face from the camera, making him anonymous on the jumbotron as she continued to flex for the adoring crowd. I sighed empathetically at Bill's plight. In just a few seconds, Kylie had upstaged him completely. He may have been the reigning champion, but she was the star. Once again, it was all about her.
The judges and competitors were just as startled by Kylie's performance as the crowd had been, and uncertainty hung in the air as the competitors approached the 'Hercules Hold' event. In this event, the competitors would stand on a platform in between two 350 pound pillars, which were weighted to fall away to either side. The competitors held onto chains that wrapped around the pillars, and try to keep the pillars from falling over for as long as possible.
The first competitor was Bill Booker, who stood tall with his massive arms outstretched, holding the pillars upright for 90 seconds until finally his shoulders and hands began to shake, and he let them fall to the ground. The other competitors held the pillars up about as long, but the crowd never cheered very loudly. Their focus rarely left the little girl with the big muscles who sat on deck with the other competitors, her feet dangling off a pink folding chair, a look of casual confidence on her face.
Once again, Kylie went last. The stagehands scrambled to find a small podium that Kylie could stand on, so that she could reach the chains. Kylie waited patiently, giving the audience a show as she lifted up her shirt to examine her Olympia-winning abs. As soon as the podium was ready, Kylie stopped her exhibition, then stepped up to the event and took the chains in her little girly hands. The judges looked uncertain as they pulled the safety blocks away from the pillars, allowing them to fall.
But they didn't fall. They didn't move an inch. Kylie's shoulders and arms bulged with muscle as veins and striations appeared on her tanned young skin, but her body was still and untroubled, as was her beautiful young face. At least, until the clock passed 120 seconds.
Then Kylie's upper body began to tremble with tension. Her lats spread like wings, her back flared to nearly three feet wide, and her abs contracted into bricks of muscle. Then she began to pull the pillars toward her. The crowd gasped in amazement. The strongest men in the world could barely manage to keep the pillars from falling immediately to the ground, but the strongest middle school girl in the world could not only keep them from falling down, she could pull them up again.
And she wasn't done. With a high-pitched girly grunt, Kylie curled her massive arms, and the pillars tore loose from their moorings, collapsing into one another and forming an arch above her. The crowd chattered in amazement, Kylie dropped the chains and walked off the stage. “Technically, the clock should still be running because the pillars haven't touched the ground yet” she said to the judges. “But you can stop it now if you want. I'm going to dominate no matter what.”
It was hard to argue with her. The scoreboard showed the times for the event. Bill Booker came in second with 91 seconds, and my 13 year old sister won with 194 seconds.
Bill Booker was standing in the on-deck circle for the next event as Kylie walked back to the chairs. But she wasn't walking to him. She was walking to his throne, and he was simply in the way. Despite the fear on his face, Bill's ego forced him to stand his ground, at least until Kylie slammed her shoulder into his chest, knocking him to the ground like a toy. “Thanks for keeping my throne warm for me, wimp,” Kylie said as she sat down, and tore the name plate from the throne with her little fingers.
The judges declared a break while they cleaned up the ruined 'Hercules Hold' event, and reporters flooded the on-deck area to interview Kylie. Bill Booker slumped to the folding chair with the pink bow at the end of line that the judges had prepared for Kylie, while she stretched out on his throne, pointing her toes to show off her dramatically curvy, terrifyingly muscular legs.
“Kylie!” a reporter with a white beard called out. “Just how strong are you?”
“That's an imprecise and poorly worded question,” Kylie scoffed, “so I'll give you an imprecise and poorly worded answer. I'm Stronger than anyone else. Way stronger.”
“Kylie!” a reporter in a short skirt called. “Is there anything you want to tell the little girls out there that idolize you, and want to be as strong as you are one day?”
“Yes,” Kylie said as the judges signaled that the next even was ready. “I want to tell them that they'll never be as strong as me, but they should lift heavy anyway, because it's fun to dominate men.”
The reporters laughed as they dispersed, but I didn't. I knew that Kylie wasn't joking. She loved nothing more than to dominate. And that's exactly what she was doing.
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Oh man, I was waiting and waiting to see this chapter come out and it was well worth the wait, as I thoroughly enjoyed what I read here, and yes, it was pretty much what I predicted, Kylie dominating, breaking records, showing off that she was effortlessly better than anyone else there, I very much look forward to seeing more events, and more of Kylie simply overshadowing all these huge guys by effortlessly dominating the events and showing that her young muscles are far stronger and more efficient than their muscles ever will be. k+!
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Ohhh shiiii.... The sublimity!!
Next chapter Kylie serves us a crash course of mashed Bill Booker and a can of whoop ass??
Where do I "book" to see this event, if you catch my drift?
>:D
Rumble time. Amazonian teen goddess vs raggedy ass weakling.
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Yes, hopefully this is just the beginning of Kylie showing off and dominating egotistical meatheads. Keep it up!
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Part 2, Chapter 31
Ever since Kylie put me in the hospital by smothering me with her breasts, I had lost the will to resist her. She had dominated me so thoroughly that I didn't feel angry or jealous anymore, I just felt defeated. But as I was heard hoards of people singing Kylie's praises, and saw how the reporters ignored the male competitors who spent their entire lives training for this moment, my anger and jealousy began to reawaken. I could feel bile rising in my throat as the next event began.
The next event was the vehicle push. The competitors had to stand behind a 30,000 pound flatbed truck, and push it through the sand for 30 meters. If any of them actually managed to push the truck the entire distance, the competitor who had the fastest time would win. As if the weight of the truck and the resistance of the sand wasn't enough, the flatbed held a small swimming pool in which ten beautiful women in tiny bikinis frolicked in the sun, playfully splashing water on one another.
Bill Booker was the first one up for the vehicle push. As he situated himself behind the truck and flirted with the bikini girls, Kylie hopped down from the throne where he used to sit, and strolled toward the pink folding chair to which she had relegated him. The strongest men in the world cringed as she walked by, cowed not only by the unbelievable strength she demonstrated in the competition, but also by the unwavering confidence she demonstrated in her body language. When Kylie reached the pink folding chair, she gently removed the pink bow that hung on its back, then turned and headed back to her throne. But then she stopped. The row of gigantic men held their breaths, visibly nervous as she stood still for just a second. Kylie turned to Magnus, her competitor from the dumbbell press. “Hold this,” she said, thrusting the bow into his hands. “I'll be right back.”
With a smirk on her face, Kylie walked back to the pink folding chair, lifted it up off the ground, and crumpled its aluminum frame with her tiny hands until it was nothing but a ball of twisted metal, which she dropped at her dainty feet. She walked back to Magnus and took the pink bow from his hands and turned to walk away. Then suddenly, she wheeled around and locked eyes with Magnus, and he wilted like a flower in her cold gaze. Kylie drew back her fist, her massive arm bulging, and Magnus covered his face and cowered in fear. Kylie let him cringe for second, then she relaxed her arm and laughed. “What's wrong big man? Scared of a little girl?” she jeered as she walked away.
The vehicle push was a grueling event, and most of the competitors couldn't make it 10 meters, despite the cheering of the beautiful women in the truck. When Kylie stepped up as the final competitor, only four men had made it the full 30 meters, and it taken them both about 3 minutes.
“Kylie!” one of the bikini girls cried as my little sister placed her tiny hands on the flatbed, and planted her bare feet in the sand. “You're awesome! You're an inspiration to women everywhere!”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said as she tensed her massively thick, yet decidedly feminine legs.
“Kylie!” another bikini girl cried. “Will you sign my breasts?”
“I'll do a lot more to your breasts than just sign them,” Kylie said with a sly smile.
“Kylie!” a third girl called. “Can you give me some life advice?”
“Yeah,” Kylie said. “Find something to hold on to. This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
Then the starting bell rang and Kylie's legs swelled with an explosion of power, as she powered the truck forward. After a second of initial resistance the truck took off as if it had been shot out of a cannon, powered by Kylie's curvy, muscle-packed legs. Strength rippled through her her diamond-cut calves, muscle-cabled thighs and dimpled glutes as they pumped again and again. With each step, the pink soccer shorts that Kylie wore began to split at their seams, helpless to accommodate the swelling muscles of her titanic lower body.
Kylie streaked down the roadway, the bikini girls howling with excitement. It took her less than a minute to reach the end of the course, and her momentum carried her onward, until the truck crawled halfway up a sand dune and came to a sudden stop. The bikini girls tumbled out of the flatbed, squealing with delight as they fell into sand and formed a pile of squirming nubile flesh all around Kylie. The crowd cheered as Kylie stood victorious amid the tangle of beautiful women, who reached out to stroke or squeeze her muscles. As parents covered their children's eyes, Allison's hands balled into fists. “Those skanks need to keep their damn hands off of Kylie!” she snarled.
“Why do you care?” I asked, my stomach churning with envy. “Are you jealous?”
Allison looked startled, and her eyes darted back and forth. “No!” she said defensively. “It's just.... um... It's just that Kylie's too young to be in such a sexually provocative situation.”
“Feeling a girl's muscles isn't sexually provocative,” I said sourly. “Unless you're a pervert.”
Allison reddened as her face alternated between anger and embarrassment. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but couldn't. A month ago, Allison would have beaten me black and blue for saying something like that, but ever since Lola humiliated her, she had been slow to anger. I wanted to apologize to her, but then the scoreboard flashed Kylie's time in the vehicle push. Everyone on the beach was jabbering in amazement. Bill Booker time of 167 seconds was good enough for second place. Kylie's first place time was 38 seconds. The crowd cheered as Kylie extricated herself from the pile of groping bikini models, who fought over Kylie's tattered soccer shorts as she strutted back toward the stage in a pink thong bikini, wiggling her huge round tanned buttocks for the cameras.
“38 seconds isn't that great,” I muttered. “Sprinters run 100 meters in way less time than that.”
“Seriously Rick?” Allison laughed. “How petty can you be? She was pushing a 16 ton truck, plus all those handsy bitches, and the only thing you have to say is that she isn't as fast as Usain Bolt. I mean, would it kill you to be supportive of your sister for once?”
But the truth was that Kylie didn't need my support. With two events to go in the World's Strongest Man competition, my 13 year old kid sister had outperformed the male competitors to such an extent that she established herself as the prohibitive favorite. Once again, it was all about her.
The next event was the Heavy Load. Each competitor had to wade into the ocean, where several 300 pound anchors had been planted in the sand. They would then have to carry the anchors 15 meters up the beach and load them into a flatbed truck that bore their name. The competitor who had loaded the most anchors in 5 minutes would be declared the winner.
As the competitors stood by their trucks, waiting for the event to begin, Kylie turned to the cameras, and tore her tattered pink t-shirt apart. “Good thing I dressed for the beach,” she quipped.
The pink string bikini top that Kylie was wearing underneath her shirt made her bikini from the night before look modest, consisting of two tiny triangles of fabric that covered her nipples but little else. Wolf whistles filled the air as Kylie stretched her arms in front of her and began to flex her pecs, her gigantic tanned tits bobbing up and down with the contraction of her textbook-sized pectorals.
Then the horn sounded. Each ran down into the water as fast as he could and began to lift an anchor. Most tried to lift the stock bar with the crooks of their elbows, while a few tried to squat down and shoulder the anchors. Only a few of them men had comfortably lifted an anchor when Kylie walked casually into the water, which was up to her waist, and easily plucked one anchor up with each hand. Kylie scoffed at the men around her as she walked briskly back toward her truck, and tossed both of her anchors into the truck bed as if she were tossing pillows onto a bed. The truck shook as the anchors clattered into the bed of the truck, but Kylie was already on her way back to the water, passing a few men who were only just emerging from the water with their first anchor.
Once again, Kylie strolled into the surf and effortlessly lifted two anchors from the sand as if she were picking daisies from a garden, her rugby ball-sized forearms rippling with power. She smiled as she walked briskly up the beach with an anchor over each shoulder, her hips swishing and her breasts bouncing as she passed the men, who waddled as they struggled with one anchor apiece. Once again Kylie dropped the anchors into the bed of her truck, and turned back toward the ocean.
Again and again Kylie walked into the water and back to her truck, adding to the pile of 300 pound anchors until the truck began to sag under their weight. When Kylie finally stopped, there was 1 minute left on the clock, 24 anchors in her truck, 5 anchors in the second place truck, and no anchors left in ocean. She had not only beaten the world's strongest men, she beat the event itself.
As the clock ticked down, Kylie walked down to the beach and dove into the ocean. She emerged moments later, breaking up through the surface in an eruption of water droplets as her long blonde hair whipped over head and her enormous breasts jiggled up and down. Every camera on the beach was trained on Kylie as she posed, running her fingers through her hair with a sultry look on her face, water dripping from her perfectly tanned, horrifyingly muscular body as it glistened in the sun. People ooh'ed and aah'ed as they watched Kylie show off on the jumobotron. “Her makeup is still perfect” a woman next to us said aloud. “I wonder what brand she wears.”
“She doesn't wear makeup,” Allison sighed dreamily. “She just wakes up looking like that.”
-
Yes, hopefully this is just the beginning of Kylie showing off and dominating egotistical meatheads. Keep it up!
Thanks!
I had a lot of plot points to line up during the past few chapters, but now Kylie can get back to what she does best--showing off and dominating egotistical meatheads. :)
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Another great chapter, one that I enjoyed greatly, reading about how easily Kylie dominated the events, how she pushed the huge load so fast that she was 4 times faster than Bill Booker, and how she took all of 4 minutes to transport 24 300 pound anchors like they weighed little more than shopping bags, and I bet she was holding back, the way she made it look she could've easily taken 3 or 4 anchors every time and finished the whole contest before anyone else had taken 2 or 3 total. Now I'm wondering what the last event will be, and if Kylie will do anything outlandish to further her outright humiliation of these strongmen? Looking forward to finding out! k+!
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Yes, hopefully this is just the beginning of Kylie showing off and dominating egotistical meatheads. Keep it up!
Thanks!
I had a lot of plot points to line up during the past few chapters, but now Kylie can get back to what she does best--showing off and dominating egotistical meatheads. :)
Awesome. And hopefully after all the showing off and dominating she can find someone to tend to her sore, swollen muscles. I'll be over here waiting. ;)
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I'm starting to hate Rick. How the hell does he think Kylie got so muscular? By magic??
Wish, I really wish.... Kylie stops the physically abusing Rich and take a different approach. For real wish she'd stop that stupid "GTFO out of my gym" mindset and instead brought Rick down to where she worksout and simply blows his mind as she sees her working with such intensity and dedication, with a regime and weights that would kill a normal human being, that ingrains the fear of God in his unbeliever heart.
For the past chapters, I'd vouch for Rick, even when it was abundantly clear that he had lot of stuff coming his way (hiring thugs!?), and that Kylie is too toxic, because she keeps wanting to overshadow of subjugate Rick at every single level, physically, mentally emotionally (like can he even have his own opinions? Or rather said, we all see how she reacts when he even dares to speak), but you reach a point that when the smoking gun is handed to you... You SIMPLY HAVE TO accept things for what they are.
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I would like to see Lola wrestling Rick again!
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Rick is just unbelievably stubborn, to never give Kylie her due credit, what she is doing out there is incredible, but because of how she has treated him, because of how she has bullied him for years, it's like when it comes to her, he is blinded to her awesomeness. I wonder what it would take for her to break him of that? Or will he ever just fully admit that she is as awesome as she truly is? What would be so bad for him to see her with objective eyes? Well, whatever, Kylie is awesome in my eyes, and that's pretty much what counts to me. k+!
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She over power edge Bill but I wish she is not ready with him. Being 4 times or more stronger than him needs a private humilation.
I'm still thinking what Allison is doing. She is getting bigger herself. But for what reason?
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Part 2, Chapter 32
The last event was the Anchor Stone. An awkwardly shaped 400 pound stone rested on a small platform at the edge of the beach. The competitors would have to pick up the stone and carry it down a 100 meter strip wet sand, as far as they could go, with the tide rolling in and out around their feet as they went. If any of them managed to carry the stone the entire distance, the competitor who had the fastest time would win.
The shape of the stone made lifting it incredibly challenging, and most of the contestants exhausted themselves simply hoisting it off the ground, and were unable to secure it well enough to walk forward. Only three of the contestants managed to carry the stone all 100 meters, collapsing as they placed it on the platform at the other end of the blacktop. Bill Booker was in the lead when Kylie walked to the platform and cracked her knuckles. The crowd was on their feet now, eager to see Kylie's next superhuman feet of strength.
She didn't disappoint. As soon as the horn sounded to start the event, she crouched down and scooped up the massive stone in one smooth easy motion, despite the fact that she could hardly fit her young arms around it. And then she started running. Kylie tore down the beach, not with a waddling lumbering gait like the men who went before her, but with long graceful strides. With each step her massive buttocks throbbed with power, while her sculpted quads and hamstrings pumped like pistons covered in golden-brown silk. 100 meters later, Kylie set the stone gently down on its platform. The crowd began to cheer, but fell silent with awe when they saw the scoreboard display Kylie's time as 9.3 seconds. I couldn't believe it either. My 13 year old little sister had effectively broken the world's record in the 100 meter dash, and she had done it running barefoot through wet sand while carrying 400 pounds in her arms. I had gotten used to the idea of Kylie having much bigger muscles than anyone else on earth, and being much stronger than anyone else on earth, but I never dreamed that she could run that quickly. This was too much, even for her.
Allison laughed as she turned to me. “Is that fast enough for you, Rick?” she said. “And don't forget, they started the clock when she bent over to pick up the stone, and didn't stop until she put it down. Her real time is probably under 8 seconds.”
“That's not possible,” I whined. “She's only like 5'3”. And her legs are so big. She can't...”
“She said she was going to concentrate on pure athleticism,” Allison jeered. ”That's all thanks to you Rick, remember. You should be proud of yourself for being part of Kylie's greatness.”
Kylie stood over the stone and raised her arms in triumph. As the crowd began to cheer, Kylie plucked the enormous stone from the ground again, holding it to her chest. Then Kylie began to squeeze, and her entire body began to tremble as her arms, shoulders and back pulsed with power. The crowd fell silent again as veins ran along Kylie's arms, Kylie's shoulders swelled until each head of her deltoid looked like a balloon about to pop, and sweat ran down Kylie's muscle-knotted back, making it look like a cobblestone street after a rainstorm. Then, with a girly high-pitched growl Kylie contracted every muscle in her upper body, and the Anchor Stone crumbled into a dozen small rocks, which fell at her feet, exposing pectoral muscles that were nine inches high, a foot wide and at least three inches thick. The crowd erupted with cheers as Kylie flexed her pecs, the pink strings of her bikini top straining to contain her bouncing breasts as her pectorals bunched up big enough to and bloomed with striations.
The award ceremony was more of a formality than anything else. Kylie was visibly unimpressed as she accepted her trophy and her medal, as if it meant nothing to her. And it didn't. I knew Kylie well enough to know that she didn't care about trophies. She cared about dominating. As if to prove my point, Kylie looked at the row of strongmen that she had beaten with humiliating ease, and began to laugh as she raised herself up onto her tiptoes and began to spread her lats. “I can't believe you wimps thought you could compete with me,” she giggled as her body began to swell with muscle, her thighs ballooning outward until they completely overshadowed her small knees, her back growing wide enough that she could have worn a suitcase like a backpack. “After all, I'm a little girl, and I lift little girl weights. And that's way more weight than any of you could ever move.”
Allison and I both had big tests on Monday morning, so we were catching a red-eye flight back home. I wasn't too happy about the late night flight, but I was happy that we wouldn't have to see Kylie gloating about her latest athletic conquest, since she and Lola were out enjoying the nightlife in Rio. Allison and I stood in an elevator bank at the rear of the hotel, doing a last minute check of our belongings, and I couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet the hotel was at midnight. At least until Bill Booker showed up. “Ooh la la,” he said, ogling Allison's cleavage as she bent over to look through her carryon bag.
Bill was with another strongman competitor, a big British guy named Nick, and they were both obviously drunk. My heart filled with dread when I saw the bad intentions on their faces as they stomped heavily toward us. Although I had seen them both from a distance during the competition, it was something entirely different to see them up close. Standing over 6'6” and weighing over 300 pounds, they loomed over me like mountains. Bill pushed me aside with one hand and stomped over to Allison, who recoiled as he began to paw her shining red hair with his big meaty hands. “You know,” he said, looking down at her. “You are seriously the hottest chick I have ever seen in my life.”
“I get that a lot,” Allison said coldly as she brushed her hair out of Bill's hand. “But I'm taken.”
“I'm serious though,” Bill slurred, his breath reeking of beer as he moved toward Allison, backing her into a corner. “I've been all over the world, lifting weights and banging models and shit. And you are like the hottest piece of trim I ever seen.”
“Thanks,” Allison said as she tried to slip under Bill Booker's thick hairy arm. “But I'm taken, we're leaving and you're drunk, so...”
“Don't you blow me off, bitch!” Bill roared.
Instantly, I threw myself between them. “Get your hands off my girl you ape,” I said firmly.
Bill Booker laughed as he looked down at me. Then, pushing me aside, he reached out and grabbed Allison's left breast. I saw red, and my body lashed out, throwing a right hook at the towering giant's head. My hand crashed into his thick jowly face, and immediately began to ache with pain. As I wrung out my hand, Bill Booker began to laugh. “You too much of a bitch for me to even hit you back,” he chuckled. “But if you try that again, I just might hit you back anyway. You won't like that.”
Then he pushed me to the ground like he was brushing aside a shower curtain, and reached out and grabbed Allison's right breast. Allison reddened, then her jaw set. I saw her calves tense for just a second, then her fist shot forward, striking Bill Booker squarely on the jaw. He didn't laugh her punch off the way he did mine. Instead, his head snapped back, and he rocked backward just a little. Nick, who was leaning against the wall laughing, stood up with surprise. No sooner had her first punch landed, Allison threw a second, a right hook to the body that struck Bill in his ribs, making him grunt as he took a step back. A second right hook to the body followed, then a third. I stood mesmerized as my girlfriend peppered the former World's strongest man with punches, her big breasts jiggling in her tank top and her long legs flexing in her shorts, as she backed him up with a volley of strikes. “Don't you fucking touch me, you fat hairy asshole!” she growled.
Bill's nose was bleeding now, and a small bruise had formed under his right eye. I was ashamed of myself for being completely helpless in the face of the huge men that attacked my girlfriend, but I was proud of Allison for being strong enough to defend herself, and I was actually a little turned on to see her strong toned body in action. Then, as Allison threw a left cross, Bill snatched her hand out of the air. He spit blood on the ground and charged forward, slamming Allison against the wall as Nick scanned the empty elevator bank to make sure we were alone, then hit the call button. “I was just gonna grab your titties and then go to bed,” he growled. “Now you done disrespected me, so me and my friend are going to take you up to our room and have some fun.”
As the elevator door opened, Bill Booker grabbed Allison like a sack of flour, slinging her around as he stomped into the elevator, joined by a leering Nick. I ran toward them, but Nick shoved me so hard I flew across the elevator bank and smacked against the far wall. “Help!” Allison cried as she thrashed about in Bill Booker's arms. “Get help!”
“If you say anything to anyone I'll break you in half, you little shit,” Bill Booker yelled at me. “Remember, the strongest get whatever they want.”
“I completely agree,” a familiar voice called from the hallway. A second later Kylie appeared, clad in a low cut sleeveless strapless white mini dress, her blonde hair up and her tanned skin flecked with glitter. “And I want you to let her go and step out of that elevator so I can crush you like a bug.”
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:wow:
Holy shit.... I'm nearly wetting myself in anticipation and desire... I want to see Kylie bashing the elevators door in, tearing the entire elevator out of the wall, her muscles crushing the wall in the process, pulling out Allison and then crushing the elevator around Booker, and when she feels she has mentally punished him too much.. Tearing him out of the collapsed metal, breaking his bones in the process just to squash him against her superior physique.
Holy shit..... Can't wait for the next chapter, man.....
:woohoo:
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I was waiting for the finals, anticipating what event it could be and see what Kylie had in mind to show off more of her awesome strength, and I was not disappointed, not in the least! Not only did she run 100m in World record time, she did it running barefoot through sand while carrying a 400 pound boulder. She dominated once again, and to further cement her dominance, she crushed the 400 pound rock into a hundred pieces with her huge, ripped upper body! The thing is, where does she go from here? I know she's going to overpower, humiliate Bill Booker and his friend, 1 vs. 2, but where after that? The Olympics? I could definitely see her not only winning every Gold medal she competes for, but breaking every record as well. But whatever she does, I will definitely be there to read it! k+!
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Can’t wait for what happens next Kylie doesn’t like sharing her toys.
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Part 2, Chapter 33
Panic flashed across Nick's face as he began to mash on the buttons inside the elevator. As the doors began to close, Bill Booker made a rude gesture toward Kylie as he pulled Allison close. “Fuck you, you gross little bitch,” he sneered. “I ain't afraid of you.”
Without hesitation, and without a trace of emotion on her face, Kylie walked quickly to the elevator and wedged her fingers in between the elevator doors just as they were about to close. I was prepared to see Kylie slowly pry the doors apart, her back and shoulders swelling with muscle as she did, but that's not what happened at all. Instead, Kylie flicked her wrists like she was opening her bedroom curtains, and the elevator doors flew open, filling the air with the sound of twisted metal as Kylie's incredible power tore them loose from their tracks. Bill and Nick went white with fear, their mouths quivering in terror, as the elevator slowly began to creep upward. “Are you sure that you're not afraid of me?” Kylie asked. “Because you sure look like you're afraid of me.”
“Help me Kylie!” Allison called as the elevator rose so that its floor was even with Kylie's waist.
“Go go go! Hurry up!” Bill pleaded, hammering buttons on the inside of the elevator.
The elevator had almost disappeared, with only the knees of its occupants visible, when Kylie's hands shot up and grabbed the floor of the elevator. Then, wedging her feet against the elevator door jambs for leverage, she began to pull downward on the elevator as if she were doing pull-ups.
I remembered the first time that Kylie had challenged me to a pull-up competition. She was only 9 years old, and although she was very fit from gymnastics, she was just a little girl who stood a couple feet short of reaching the pull-up bar. I laughed as I hopped up and grabbed the pull-up bar, then proceeded to crank out twelve pull-ups, a personal best. But a few second later I stopped laughing, because Kylie sprang up into the air like a cat and grabbed a hold of the pull-up bar, then proceeded to crank out pull-ups like a jackhammer. She had completed 30, her tiny 9 year old back and shoulders throbbing with ripped muscles as she went, when she switched to one-armed pull-ups. After performing 10 one-armed pull-ups with each arm, Kylie dropped gracefully to the ground, looked me in the eye, and began to laugh. A few weeks later for her 10th birthday, Kylie got her first set of free weights and a chain that she could use to attach weight plates to herself as she did pull-ups, and every day since then she had grown bigger and stronger.
Now, four years later, Kylie was still a a little girl who stood a couple feet short of reaching the pull-up bar. But now she had muscles. Huge muscles. The biggest muscles on earth. And her muscles weren't just big, they were strong. Strong enough to humiliate the men participating in the World's Strongest Man competition, and also strong enough to overpower an elevator. Kylie's lats spread like wings of female muscle, forcing their way up and out of her strapless dress as she began to slowly pull the elevator downward. Each individual muscle in Kylie's back and shoulders popped into perfect definition as the elevator began to shake and buck, the sound of its straining motor and groaning cables filling the air. Kylie's triceps swelled to the size of American footballs as she pulled the elevator down and down. Soon Bill, Nick and Allison were visible from the waist down, and then from the shoulders down. A second later, the trio of elevator passengers finally they were fully visible as Kylie forced the elevator back to the ground. As sparks shot from the elevator bank, Bill and Nick wore looks of panicked horror, while Allison was visibly gloating despite her tear-streaked mascara.
As soon as the elevator settled violently into place, Allison leapt out and threw her arms around my massively muscled little siser. “Thank God you're here, Kylie!” she cried as he hands began to trace the muscle shapes carved into Kylie's bulging volleyball-sized shoulders. “They were being total creeps, and they knocked Rick down, and they grabbed my tits.”
At that moment, Lola rounded the corner, wearing a sequined green dress that was little more than a one-piece bathing suit with fringes of fabric around the waist. Her eyes went instantly to Allison and Kylie, and flashed with anger. Then she saw Allison's tear-streaked face and shaking body, and her face showed concern. Then her eyes fell on Bill and Nick in the mangled elevator, and her anger returned. At the same time, Kylie patted Allison gently on the small of her back. “It's okay,” Kylie said softly. “I'm not going to let them hurt you, and I'm not going to let them get away with trying to hurt you. But you might want to back up a little bit. This might get messy.”
Allison squeezed Kylie tightly and kissed the top of her head. As Allison walked toward me, her eyes were glued on Kylie, and her face displaying her deep reverence and even deeper infatuation for my musclebound kid sister. I looked at Kylie, too, but my face displayed only the sour jealousy that came with knowing I could never protect or fascinate Allison the way that Kylie could. Bill and Nick were also looking at Kylie, but their faces displayed fear and uncertainty. Kylie grinned as she rolled her mammoth shoulders, striations dancing across her golden-brown skin as she did, the lumps of muscle in her deltoid cluster and trapezius hopping and twitching with power.
“If you two want to grab titties so badly, why don't you come out her and try to grab mine,” Kylie said, flexing her pectorals slowly so they rolled like ocean waves, her huge round boobs wobbling as they moved up and down under the sheer white mini dress, bouncing heavily with with every sentence that she spoke. “After all, my titties are a lot bigger than hers. I'm sure you got a good look at them today while I was in my little pink bikini. In my little pink bikini, moving more weight than you ever could. Moving more weight than you ever could, even though I wasn't even trying.”
Bill and Nick were sweating with nervousness as they looked at each other, exchanged a knowing glance, and nodded. With a shout the two gigantic men ran from the elevator and lowered their heads, slamming into my 13 year old kid sister like human battering rams. Bill's right shoulder and Nick's left shoulder both struck Kylie square in the stomach, two textbook perfect tackles landing in perfect synchronicity. If Kylie had been a tackling dummy she would have been thrown to the ground, knocked off her feet, or split in half. But Kylie wasn't a tackling dummy. Kylie was the strongest human being on earth, and the two men crashed into her as if she were a brick wall wrapped in golden brown satin. The two men grunted in pain as their legs gave way underneath them, rattled by the force of their impact with Kylie's hulking unmovable body. Kylie's only response was to laugh and toss her hair as the two huge men pulled themselves up onto their hands and knees. “Ha!” Allison gloated. “Kylie's too strong for you! Too strong for both of you put together!”
As if in response, Kylie wrapped her arms around the two mens' necks, and slowly began to squeeze. There wasn't a trace of effort showing in her beautiful youthful face, or in her massively muscled upper body, but the two professional strongmen were turning beet red. And they were starting to panic.
Nick dug in his legs and pushed against Kylie, trying to throw her off balance. During the World's Strongest Man competition, Nick was able to push a flatbed truck full of bikini girls down a 100 meter strip of sand in less than 3 minutes, so there was no doubt that he was strong. But Kylie was stronger. A lot stronger. Nick pressed forward with all his might, but Kylie's lower body easily absorbed the force of his attack, her gigantic peach-shaped butt contracting under her tight white dress as she held herself in balance, and her massive beveled calves bulging as she dug in her heels.
Bill began to swing hammerfist blows at Kylie's body, as best he could with his limited flexibility. During the World's Strongest Man competition, Bill was able to press a 210 pound dumbbell overhead 12 times, so there was no doubt that he was strong. But Kylie was stronger. A lot stronger. Bill pounded his big bony fists into Kylie's back and shoulders, but Kylie's upper body easily absorbed the force of his attacks, his fists bouncing harmlessly off Kylie's physique as if it was cast from solid steel, his strongest blows unable to move her sculpted muscles a single millimeter in any direction.
Kylie watched the men struggle for a few seconds, then finally released them, laughing as they gasped for air while they knelt at her feet. With a flourish, Kylie raised her arms into a double biceps pose that made me cry out in shock. Her body was throbbing with muscle in every direction, from her 29” arms to her 51” inch chest to 36” thighs to her calves, which must have been at least 29” themselves. My heart sunk in my chest. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't deny the fact that my 13 year old sister was the biggest, strongest, most muscular human being alive. And honestly, no one even came close to matching her. Not Ty Tate, not Bill Booker. No one.
As her body swelled with power, her sleeveless, strapless, low-cut mini dress was stretched to its limit. As her thighs ballooned, the dress pulled up over her hips to give a glimpse of her lacy white panties in the front and the bottom edges of her bulbous buttocks from behind. As her back spread, the dress pulled down over her breasts forcing them up and out like jiggling globes of tanned glitter-flecked flesh the size of volleyballs, and would have slipped down completely if not for her jutting nipples, which held the white fabric up like the knobs on a coat rack. “Look at me,” Kylie growled at the men on their knees before her. “Look at my muscles. And beg me not to crush you with them.”
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A couple of things:
1) Dang, that display of strength from Kylie wasn't exactly what I was expected. It was much more casual that my suggestion. The point of how easily she exudes power is clearly more elaborate with her just tearing the doors by flicking her wrists.
2) This chapter made me hate cliffhangers, hahaha. I want to see the good stuff. Her beating up the other 2. Like really beating them up...
Also, not sure what kind of sick man I am, but there's this dark passenger in me that wish Rick just loses it, and despite realizing finally that Kylie -is- as strong as she is, that out of all the frustration he feels, to finally attack Kylie. Fully aware he can't hurt her, fully aware how insignificant he is, but simply incapable of handling it even more. I imagine Rick punching Kylie till he's knuckles go bloody, breaks some fingers, and is awash by tears and frustration, Kylie just staring at him. Not anger, no condescendingly, just a blank stare...
While, I think I've vouched for reconciliation for a long time, what i keep seeing through the story is the utter defeat and deconstruction of Rick. He has absolutely no more threads to perpetuate his fantasy that Allison is his girlfriend, completely eclipsed by Kylie, and has to deal with the fact that he'll never get back to a person he feels tormented him for most of his life.
I still want to see Kylie mature, and not be so snarky, bitch towards her brother, but.... yeah, I feel that a person can only take as much humiliation, be deconstructed so much before they snap. In the words of the Joker
- “All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day.”
I really, really want to see the conflict between the two escalate to higher peaks, before it explodes into smithereens and the two are simply lost to try piece things together.
Wholly hope, and wish that Kylie, after her previous hospitalization of Rick makes evident how she's really trying to pull her punches against her brother. Doesn't want to hurt him...
I want to see new layers between the two of them. Maybe not out of remorse, maybe not out of a feeling of brotherhood... But, the complexity that it should be, for even someone as powerful as Kylie, who IMO prolly should already be stated that has achieved legal emancipation to deal with such a long-standing relationship as she has had with Rick. Let it simmer, let it boil...
For real, I want to see a broken Rick lash out with all the pent up rage in his heart against Kylie, even when he thinks, or believes that she doesn't care for him, and could kill him instantly. Like that scene in Forrest Gump when Lt Dan shouts at the storm like a mad man. I think the moment of reckoning is nigh....
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Great I love the humiliation Kylie add at the end maybe she could give them to Lola for her to play with.
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what a masterpiece!!!
now I hope that Rick begin to love her sister...
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Really loved what Kylie showed off, ripping the elevator doors completely off their tracks and then taking the elevator, against it's motors, against forces probably even stronger than the ones she faced during the World's Strongest Man Contest, and bring it down, so she could see the abject fear and horror in these two assholes' faces when they realized that not only was she stronger than both of them put together, but that by a great deal. My hopes is that maybe Lola shows off that she is stronger than one of them as well. That's how strong Kylie is, Lola happens to be stronger than the men as well, but Kylie just overpowered her with the ease of holding a toddler. That would be mind-blowing to me! Keep up the awesome work! k+!
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Nice chapter, very descriptive on the physicality.
I feel sorry for Rick and personally I hope his sister evolves beyond just torturing the dude. She can be the bigger girl, morally, and not just physically.
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@grbaclig
Hey, check your messages plz. Kickfan wants contact you thru *****.
:rock:
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This can't be the end, can it? I'm going to k+! Anyway because this story has been awesome.
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Part 2, Chapter 34
A few seconds of silence passed as Allison, Lola, Bill, Nick and I all gawked at Kylie. Our eyes moved in disbelief from her massive chiseled muscles, to her huge round breasts, to her exaggerated hourglass figure, to her beautiful face, to the doll-like delicacy of her hands and feet. “She's perfect,” Allison muttered. “Every part of her body is just... the maximum possible hotness.”
“And she's all mine,” Lola purred contemptuously at Allison as she ogled Kylie. “I can touch her whenever I want. Squeeze her, lick her, or rub my body against hers whenever I want.”
“Fuck. You,” Allison hissed, her eyes still glued to Kylie's bulging body.
“Fuck me?” Lola asked with a laugh. “You tried that before. It did not work out so well for you.”
“Fuck you!” Bill Booker spat at Kylie, rising uneasily to his feet. “I don't beg nobody-”
Before Bill Booker could finish speaking, Kylie placed her right hand on his left trapezius muscle and looked up at him, locking him in her steely blue gaze. Then she began to squeeze. Although neither her face nor her body showed any signs of exertion, her girlishly slender fingers dug into Bill's trapezius muscles as if they were as soft as dough, and he winced in pain as his legs buckled. Then, with a flick of her right wrist, Kylie threw him to the ground face-first. Bill crashed onto the floor at Kylie's feet, and she immediately placed her right foot on his back, resting a modest white peep-toe high heel between his shoulder blades. “I hate when men speak out of turn,” she said.
But Bill Booker wasn't submitting that easily. Placing his hands on the ground, he began to push himself up. He had made it to a plank position, with his elbows at 90 degree angles, when he found himself unable to move any further. He struggled to push himself up further, even an inch, but Kylie's right leg was holding him firmly in check. Kylie was in a precarious pose, wearing high heels, with her hands on her hips and one leg up like in the Captain Morgan adverts, and if she were any other girl in the world she would have fallen over or lost her balance as Bill pushed against her. But Kylie wasn't any other woman in the world. She was the girl who dominated the Mr. Olympia contest and the World's Strongest Man competition. And now she was dominating Bill Booker.
Bill trembled with exertion as he tried to push his way up, but he was unable to move Kylie's leg even an inch. The harder he pushed up, the harder she pushed down. Kylie smiled as the muscles in her right leg began to flex and throb with power, her calf hardening into a diamond of shimmering tanned muscle, and her inner thighs erupting with adductor, sartorius, and pectineus muscles. Fixing a stray lock of hair, she hiked up her minidress, revealing her lacy white panties and every inch of her massive curvaceous legs. “I think my calves are my best feature, don't you?” she asked Nick as she reached down and stroked the bulging chiseled upside-down heart shape of her right calf. “I love the way that they just explode out from my shins, so that my legs look super curvy.”
With that, Kylie pushed down with her right leg, and Bill was flattened against the ground. Kylie pulled her skirt back down and giggled as Bill began to squirm. “I told you to beg me not to crush you, didn't I?” Kylie asked, looking down at Bill. “But you wanted to act tough. And so you wound up under my foot. Just like a bug, waiting to be crushed.”
“Crush him, Kylie!” Allison hissed. “Crush him like a bug!”
Suddenly, Kylie looked up and focused her icy blue eyes on Nick, who had just pulled himself up to his hands and kneed. As soon as Nick met Kylie's gaze, he immediately fell to the floor. “Please don't crush me,” he whined. “I beg you. I didn't touch her. I didn't lay a hand on her.”
“Is that true, Fleabites?” Kylie asked Allison without moving her gaze from Nick.
“I guess,” Allison said. “But he was threatening me with his posture and his male gaze.”
“Oh, that's not good,” Kylie said to Nick. “It doesn't feel good to be at the mercy of someone a lot bigger and a lot stronger. But I guess you know that now. After all, I'm a lot bigger than you. And a lot stronger. And you don't like having me stand over you, ready to kick your ass, do you?”
Kylie smiled as she spread her lats, her shoulders popping upward as her back swelled with immensity, stretching her minidress so tight that her ribs, abs, and obliques were all perfectly outlined. “No,” Nick whined. “I don't like it at all. I'm sorry. Please don't kick my ass.”
“You know what?” Kylie said. “I believe you. I'm not going to kick your ass.”
“Thank you!' Nick beamed, rising to his feet, with tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Kylie.”
“I'm going to let my girlfriend kick your ass, instead,” Kylie said. 'That always gets me hot.”
A smile crept across Lola's face as she strutted forward, stepping out of her green high heels, and rolling her shoulders. Nick looked down at the 12 year old Latina. Bulging muscles danced beneath her brown skin with every movement, and she wore a look of supreme confidence on her face, but Nick was nearly two feet taller than Lola and he outweighed over 200 pounds. A slight smile of relief appeared on his face as he nodded.
Slowly, Lola peeled off her dress, its form-fitting green fabric clinging ever so slightly to the sweat on her sculpted muscular body. Lola was wearing underwear made from the same shimmering green fabric as her dress, with a form-fitting bra that accentuated her overdeveloped bosom, and a g-string as flimsy as dental floss. Lola adjusted her bra, making her oversized breasts jiggle and bounce, smirking at Nick's embarrassment as he tried not to stare at her. I was more impressed by Lola's butt. It bulged dramatically outward below her tiny waist, thick and peach-shaped, with deep dimples on its side and without a trace of cellulite. Sweat glistened on the honey-brown skin of Lola's backside as she shifted her weight from one leg to another, making her meaty buttocks expand and contract, one at a time. The curves of her tiny muscular body were so sweeping and dramatic that I couldn't help but stare. “Rick cut it out,” Allison hissed. “You are staring at a 12 year old girl's ass!”
Lola laughed and looked over her shoulder. “I saw you staring as well, Fleabites,” she said.
With her hips swishing and her boobs bouncing, Lola walked up to Nick and looked up at him. There was a moment of silence as we watched the World's Strongest Man contestant towering over the buxom 12 year old girl, his doughy hairy white flesh a stark contrast to her smooth shredded brown-skinned body. “What do I have to blow a whistle or something?” Kylie demanded. “Fight!”
Nick looked confused for a moment, then crouched down with his hands out, as if to grab Lola by the shoulders. But he never got close. In a flash, Lola slipped under Nick's grasp and pirouetted around until she was standing behind him. Then she wrapped her strong young arms around his bulky waist, and although Lola's arms were too short to reach all the way around the giant man's midsection, the cough of air that she forced from Nick's lungs proved that her hold was secure. And then, with a girly squeak of effort, Lola jerked the 300 pound man into the air and suplexed him shoulders-first into the ground with enough force to shake the paintings on the walls. Nick cried in pain, while Lola sprung to her feet almost instantly, raising her arms overhead triumphantly like a gymnast that just stuck a landing.
Kylie laughed and clapped as Bill Booker struggled beneath her foot, and while Nick struggled to rise Lola placed her hands on top of her head to adjust her hair, then flexed her muscles. Her young arms erupted with biceps the size of oranges, and with a sultry smile she brought her right arm closer to her face, her lips puckering as her thick twitching bicep drew closer. “I love being strong,” Lola said, then she planted a kiss on her peaked bicep. “I love my muscles.”
“So do I, “ Kylie said with a sultry smirk as she began to gently rub her crotch through her white minidress, her hardening nipples thrusting outward like marbles under a white tablecloth.
Kylie and Lola were exchanging glances when Nick finally pulled himself up off the ground, and with a roar, grabbed Lola from behind, wrapping his arms around her in a bearhug and lifting her off the ground. Lola remained calm as Nick squeezed his massive arms around her, his body flushing red from exertion. Lola's arms were pinned to her sides, but her forearms were free, and was able to raise them up and work her hands under Nick's arms. Then Lola closed her eyes and began to grimace with exertion as, slowly, she began to push Nick's arms apart. It was a sight to behold, a busty musclebound grade school girl in revealing underwear forcing her way out of a professional strongman's bearhug. Nick looked down with amazement as his arms were slowly forced open.
But nick wasn't giving up that easily. He turned and slammed into the wall, smashing Lola tighter into his body using his tremendous weight advantage. Lola responded instantly by placing her tiny feet against the wall and pressing outward, her muscular haunches rippling with power. Unable to resist the push of the young girl's powerful legs, Nick stumbled backward, struggling to maintain his footing. Lola raised her knees to her chest and then kick straight downward, driving her heels into Nick's knees. Nick screamed in pain, his arms going slack so that Lola could slip away as his ruined legs gave out beneath him. Lola landed on her feet, her muscular body tensed for action as Nick crashed to the ground. But as soon as she saw Nick sitting listless on his haunches, she relaxed, and began to adjust her bra as she laughed. “That was almost too easy,” she said with a giggle.
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This can't be the end, can it? I'm going to k+! Anyway because this story has been awesome.
Thanks Jeremy.
The story's not over yet, I just had a long week with lots of traveling, so I didn't have a chance to sit down and write. I've got another chapter or so before I can wrap up part 2, and hopefully get to part 3 right after the new year.
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I'm starting to love Lola, damn... Lesbian sex scene when? Maybe Allison and RIck can join too?
:singing:
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Nice! I liked this chapter a lot, loved that my suggestion was taken to heart, to see Lola take on one of the strongmen and dominate him, overpower him and beat him down. She was using effort, that was clear, but still, a 12 year old girl taking on a guy so much taller and heavier than him and beating him that decisively was hot to read. I look forward to more of Kylie and Lola showing off how superior they are to men and other women/girls. k+!
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Great story. Will we ever get to see Kylie fight like a large group of big guys ( maybe 10 guys like Bill Booker) at once ? I wanna see what she would do in that situation :p
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Great I really like how Kylie is developing Lola as a smaller version of herself.
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Hope there are some more chapters with the girls. So much potential and so much fun tonread.
Please keep on writing
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Hm, I don't remember if it was mentioned in the story: are Lola's breasts already bigger than Allison's or not?
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What do you have in mind for Lola and Allison?
Hope to get an answer in a new chapter soon.
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what a chapter!!!
please go on!!!
K+
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Part 2, Chapter 35
But Nick wasn't giving up that easily. “I don't need to walk to crush you,” Nick grunted as he lurched forward like a tidal wave of burly flesh and flopped his body over Lola.
Lola was able to keep her balance, but she was pinned into a crouching position, trapped by Nick's massive weight. “You're very strong for a little girl,” Nick grunted. “But I've been wrestling longer than you've been alive, and I know how to focus all my weight on a single point.
“All your weight... is just about enough... for a good workout,” Lola grunted.
Then Nick's body began to raise into the air, slowly at first, as Lola worked her body into a squat position. Nick tried to grab and kick the muscular girl, but his bulky upper body lacked the flexibility to reach her, and his damaged legs could barely move. Then with a single explosive motion Lola stood up, Nick's bulk draped across her shoulders, her muscle-packed legs showing deep angular cuts and impressive vascularity. “Perfect form, baby,” Kylie cheered. “Now go for the press.”
Lola obeyed. With her hands under Nick's massive torso, she began to press the gigantic man upward, fighting not only his weight, but also his attempts to throw her off balance. Lola was trembling with effort as she began to press upward, and Nick began to rise into the air. “No way,” Allison said softly through gritted teeth. “No fucking way she's that strong.”
But she was. Lola's body was dripping with sweat and lined with striations as she extended her arms, and she smiled as she held Nick helplessly over her head with his feet dangling above the floor. Kylie smiled as she looked at Lola, then reached down and grabbed Bill Booker by the hair on the back of his head, bending his neck upward so that his face was pointed at Lola. “Look at that,” Kylie purred. “See how strong my girlfriend is? That hot little body of hers is packed with girl power.”
“My neck,” Bill groaned. “Please... stop...”
But Kylie didn't stop. She continued to bend his thick inflexible neck sharply upward. “Just think,” Kylie chuckled, “by this time next year, she'll be strong enough to outlift you, just like I did.”
Then, suddenly, Lola dropped Nick to the ground. He crashed onto the floor with a loud grunt, and Lola was upon him instantly, twisting his body into a series of grapples as she posed and postured. First she trapped his arm in a hammer lock, bending it up behind his back as she straddled his prone body, bent over with her big round butt pointed up in the air. Nick trashed his way out of the hammer lock, but Lola smoothly transitioned to an omoplata, his left arm locked in her muscular right leg as she arched her back, forcing her big sweat-slick breasts outward. Nick thrashed again, heaving his enormous body upward and onto his side. Lola recovered instantly, and expertly slid across him, wrapping her legs around his neck in a rear triangle choke, her calves bulging with muscle as his face reddened. Nick struggled against the young girl's powerful legs as she laughed, fixing her hair with one hand while she kept the other planted on the floor for leverage. Finally, Nick tapped his hand on Lola's calf, signaling surrender. But that just made her laugh harder. “No,” she said. “I'm not going to let you quit. You can either fight back and win, or you can lose and go to sleep.”
Nick flailed his arms about, but didn't come close to Lola, who giggled at his powerlessness. As Nick's body began to slump and his struggling grew weaker, Lola proudly flexed her bicep, and then blew a kiss to Kylie. When Nick went limp, his body slumping into a pile on the floor, Lola gracefully released him and stood. For just a second she looked down at her handiwork, her small sculpted body glistening with sweat as she scoffed at the huge doughy man unconscious at her feet.
Lola smiled as she strutted toward Kylie, her curvaceous thighs swishing from side to side, and her big honey-brown breasts spilling out of her green bra. She placed her left hand on Kylie's waist, and began to run her right hand along the massive bulging muscles of Kylie's right arm, her lips puckering and her eyes narrowed flirtatiously. Then Kylie placed her hand on the small of Lola's back and pulled her close, their oversized adolescent breasts smooshing together as they shared a long passionate kiss. “Where do grade school girls learn to kiss like that?” Allison sighed.
When the two musclebound schoolgirls finally separated, Kylie removed her foot from Bill Booker's back and looked down at him. “Get up,” she growled at him.
Bill pulled himself up from the floor onto his hands and knees, and finally into a standing position, as Lola dug her phone out of her purse and started filming. “The light is perfect right here,” Lola said. “I can see the glitter on your skin, the cuts of your muscles. And your nipples look hot.”
Kylie smiled at Lola and winked, then she started flexing. Bill Booker's face showed shame and fear as he watched my 13 year old kid sister hit a double biceps pose that no one on earth could match, showing off a pair of arms that were bigger than his head and so sculpted that each individual muscle was plainly visible beneath her golden brown skin. “I'm sorry,” he whimpered.
I kind of felt bad for him. Two days ago, he was the strongest person on earth. Then he met Kylie. “You said my muscles were weak and soft,” Kylie said sourly. “Well what do you think now?”
“I'm sorry,” Bill said again.
“My muscles are the strongest muscles in the world,” Kylie said, hitting a side chest pose and smiling viciously as her pectorals swelled into blocks of muscle so big that they touched her chin.
“I know,” Bill said, shaking in fear at Kylie's dominant display of muscularity.
“My muscles are the hardest muscles in the world,” Kylie said, hitting a most muscular pose and swelling with power as her trapezius muscles, each head of her deltoids, and all the sternal and clavicular heads of her pectorals popped into perfect definition.
“I know, I'm sorry,” Bill said as tears began to form in his eyes.
“You know what?” Kylie asked with a mocking tone. “I think we should play Mercy.”
“No please,” Bill pleaded as Kylie held out her hands.
“This is happening whether you want it to or not,” Kylie sneered. “Don't be such a wuss.”
Bill was trembling as he put his huge hands against Kylie's dainty hands, and intertwined his sausage sized fingers with her slim girlish fingers. I remembered when Kylie and I last played mercy, a week ago when she caught me in her room. I remembered looking down at her impossibly muscular body, and feeling as though she was towering over me, despite my height advantage. I remembered the fear pulsing through my veins like ice water as her gigantic muscles twitched and rippled. I remembered the merciless confidence on her face as she fixed me with her icy blue eyes. I remembered the horrible pain as she broke the bones in my hands with terrifying ease, as if she were snapping twigs. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. “Break him, Kylie,” Allison growled.
Kylie smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You start,” she said to Bill Booker.
Bill gulped, then glanced nervously at Lola's phone. Then he began to push. His arms bulged, and he leaned in, but Kylie's hands didn't budge. “Look at him struggle,” Lola laughed.
“It's crazy how much stronger I am,” Kylie said with a giggle as she looked into the lens of Lola's phone camera. “I can barely feel him. That's because his muscles are weak and soft.”
Bill was starting to bead with sweat now, and his jaw was clenched with effort, but still Kylie was unmovable. “Move your arms up a little so I can see your boobs better,” Lola said.
Kylie raised her arms, effortlessly forcing the two-time World's Strongest Man out of position, and exposing a view of her bulging lats, chiseled ribs, and M cup breasts all barely wrapped in the sheer white fabric of her minidress. “How about now?” Kylie asked with a giggle as she began to flex her pecs, making her enormous boobs bounce up and down and threaten to pop out of her dress.
“That's perfect, baby,” Lola said. “Now stick your butt out a little.”
Kylie straightened her legs and hinged at the waist, effortlessly forcing Bill Booker out of position once again, and making her big meaty butt bulge dramatically as the short minidress crept up her massive thighs. “How about now?” Kylie asked with a giggle as she began to flex her glutes, making them wobble beneath the sheer white fabric.
“That's totally hot,” Lola purred. “You look so dominant, and so feminine. Like a goddess.”
Allison was beaming with a vengeful smile now, as she began to rub her crotch through her shorts. “Fuck yes,” she growled. “Bounce those titties. Shake that ass. You're a girl. Show him that you're a girl. Make sure he knows that a girl is strong enough to break him into pieces.”
But Kylie wasn't listening. Now, her attention was focused wholly on Bill Booker, who was beginning to squirm as she tightened her grip. “Mercy!” he cried. “Mercy!”
“I don't have any mercy for creeps,” Kylie said coldly. “You made me mad when you groped Fleabites. And when I get mad I break things.”
I closed my eyes just as the sound of snapping bones filled the air, punctuated by the laughter of three young women, and the weeping of a man who thought he was strong, until he met my sister. She had broken him just like she broke me, Kevin King, Ty Tate, and everyone else who had defied her. And every day she was getting bigger, and stronger.
TO BE CONTINUED
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Another great chapter that I enjoyed reading a great deal, Lola overpowering and overhead pressing Nick was really awesome, showing off insane power for her age and size, which of course is the point, as is Kylie's incredible show of power and dominance over Bill Booker, completely dominating him pretty much effortlessly, showing that she's so much stronger than him, he is pretty much insignificant to her. And it is sort of deserved, what he did to Allison, he deserves to have his hands broke, and to be humiliated by Kylie. I just hope that's as far as it goes. Anyway, as always, I look forward to more of your excellent writing, grbaclig! k+!
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Next chapter Kylie embraces Bill in a bearhug, slowly popping his ribs, and then Lola gets some part of the action giggling as she embraces Kylie and sandwiches the insignificant flesh bag between the two. As Bill is slowly being flattened, he can't help feel excited at Kylie's humongous world-breaking muscles and massive breasts, so gets excited as his last rib breaks Kylie smirks condescendingly at the once-thought strongman tossing him aside like garbage. Alive, but in need of medical attention. Lola and Kylie are so hot from the contact between the two, that they begin kissing and fondling each other right there, still in the hotel's aisle. Allison can't help herself and joins them, worshipfully kissing and fondling Kylie. Whereas even Rick blows a fuse and meanders towards the muscle orgy, desperately wanting to get some action with Lola, the muscle-girl flutter flexing her glutes in anticipation of Rick's hunger....
:letsparty:
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the best part is the last line: to be continued :cool2:
I am so curious about her brother... I think he is coming to love his sister muscles and boobs
K+
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In all seriousness, I hope so very, very much that this event leaves clear to Rick how much Kylie restrains herself with him....
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Amazing story wow! I'd quite like to see Alison get some play time if you like, maybe a storyline where she works herself to get bigger than Lola and fights her to win over Kylie! Maybe even a time where the guy gets himself bigger thinking he can take on his sister or her gf and is proved wrong again despite his efforts
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"O'Reilly" Well, now we have a last name to go with this goddess, if we didn't before. It doesn't have quite the same ring as "Finkelstein" but Kylie is nothing if not the creation that we've come to love and expect from you Grbaclig, if not more.
Wew. What a few chapters to catch up on... and, "TO BE CONTINUED?" I can only hope so, as it seems like at this point Ms.Impossibly muscled, superstrong O'Reilly's adventures are just beginning, and Lola is developing, (pun intended?) into quite the hot creation herself. Easily my favorite sidekick in your stories so far, if Big Girls on Campus doesn't count.
Three cheers for Kylie's incredible domination of each and every strength event, and then her and Lola's excellent comeback against the men.
You make her and her muscles SO freaking hot. 29-inch biceps on a 5'3" blonde teenage goddess. mmmph.
Also, M-cup boobs also seems to be the magic number... Who knew? You describe it excellently as usual. Keep up the good work in whatever format you desire.
:clap:
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Story is awesome! But I prefer parts with Lola :)
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I agree, but only because Kylie still doesn't seem to have much of a personality.
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Au contraire. I think she has Plenty. She is just the sort of balls to the wall super-dom we have come to know and expect from this author. XD
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Kylie's muscles are gonna need a nice long worship session after she's done with all this domination. Hopefully Lola and Allison can help her out with that ;)
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Me next please
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Kylie's muscles are gonna need a nice long worship session after she's done with all this domination. Hopefully Lola and Allison can help her out with that ;)
Great idea.
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no more news? I think you can start a new one, this is enough said :clap:
we don't want to lose your way of writing
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Please write more stories. Can’t wait to see what Kylie will do next.
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Please write more stories. Can’t wait to see what Kylie will do next.
I've been traveling for the past couple of months, but I'm back now and will start writing Part 3 soon.
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Thanks GRBACLIG. One question : will we ever see Kylie fight 5-10 or more alpha males in a fight ?
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Please write more stories. Can’t wait to see what Kylie will do next.
I've been traveling for the past couple of months, but I'm back now and will start writing Part 3 soon.
Hell yeah! Welcome back, grbaclig!
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Please write more stories. Can’t wait to see what Kylie will do next.
I've been traveling for the past couple of months, but I'm back now and will start writing Part 3 soon.
Welcome back!
I just hope to see more about Lola :)
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Yes welcome back,and i 2nd that more lola.
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Looking forward to it, as always, welcome back! k+!
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Part 3, Chapter 36
Bill Booker's cry of pain was still ringing in my ears as our plane took off, and we left the warm weather of Brazil to return to the frozen winter of the American Northeast. The sound of women laughing at a dominated man was still ringing in my ears the rest of the week as winter break ended, and I got back into the rhythm of the school year.
Kylie was all over the news. If I watched a sports channel I had to hear pundits refer to her as the most dominant athlete on the planet. If I watched serious news I had to hear commentators refer to her as the pinnacle of human development, given that every drug test and physical examination showed her to be a normal 13 year old girl, despite unprecedented muscle mass and strength. If I watched an entertainment channel I had to hear female celebrities refer to her as their girl-crush, and gush about her power, her beauty, and the confidence that she exuded in everything that she did.
Once again, it was all about her.
I could no longer avoid living in Kylie's shadow, so I tried to ignore it. I stopped watching TV, reading news apps and listening to podcasts. Instead I focused on school, in hopes that I could at least get a scholarship to a college far away from home, so that I could more than just 'Kylie's brother'.
Allison, on the other hand, had become obsessed with weightlifting. She worked out twice per day, and had little time for anything else. We were still officially a couple, but she only came over to use Kylie's old gym in the basement, or to fuck my mom. And that was probably for the best. Although Allison was still being polite and treating me kindly, her sudden drive to get stronger had made her quiet and distant, and her eyes burned with a primal intensity that frightened me.
It was the first Sunday in February, and Dad had just finished making a brunch. Mom had been steadily getting bigger and stronger under Kylie's tutelage, and now ran the house with an iron fist. Dad tried to stand up to her once in January, but she picked him up by the neck and choked him until he begged for forgiveness. From that day onward dad and I did all the cooking and cleaning while mom spent her time working out, gossiping with her friends and fucking Allison. “Rick why don't you go down to the gym and tell Allison and tell her that brunch is ready?” mom asked as she examined her abs in the hallway mirror, holding up both her blouse and her huge boobs, while twisting her torso so that her obliques and serratus muscles rippled. “Growing girls need to eat, after all.”
I quietly obeyed, and went down into the basement, where I could hear the girlishly soft grunts of Allison's exertions, and the thunderously loud reports of her fists striking the heavy bag. I froze in my tracks halfway down the stairs. It had been weeks since I had seen Allison wearing anything other than heavy winter clothes, and I was now seeing her completely naked except for a pair of MMA gloves. And she was ripped.
Allison had been working out like crazy, and I had gotten used to the idea of her being fit and toned, but now she was downright muscular. Her calves, hamstrings and glutes swelled with mass as she bounced on her feet. Her obliques, ribs and lats rippled with muscle as she shifted her torso. Her delts, triceps and biceps hardened with power as she drove her fists into the punching bag again and again. The heavy bag hopped and twitched under the force of Allison's punches, which were as fast and relentless as machine-gun fire, and I felt a tingle of fear run up my spine. Allison was still in high school, but her muscular development and punching power reminded me of a professional fighter, and the anger that burned in her eyes reminded me of a wild animal. “Dad made some pancakes,” I said nervously as Allison stopped attacking the bag.
“Come down here for a second,” she said, removing her gloves.
I obeyed, and walked down into the basement, stopping a few feet away from Allison, who stood tall and proud, her chiseled body dripping with sweat. “What's up?” I asked, try to stay cool.
“So, what do you think?” she asked. “It's been a while since you've seen me naked, and I've been making crazy gains ever since I started using the girls-only lifting program from Kylie's Insta.”
I didn't know what to say. Allison was still drop-dead beautiful, still had perfect tits, and still had an hourglass figure that most girls would need a corset to achieve. But now her body was packed with thick angular muscles that looked like they were chiseled from granite. Allison was still the hottest girl in school when she was wearing loose-fitting winter clothes, but I never liked athletic women, and her new muscles were a real turn-off. But I didn't dare tell her that. “You look really... strong,” I said.
“That's not what I mean,” Allison said as we locked eyes. “How does my body make you feel?”
“Um,” I said, hesitating. “I don't know what you mean.”
Then Allison took a step toward me, and I instinctively hopped backward as if to avoid her grasp, her history of violent behavior and her powerful physique sparking a primal fear inside me. Allison laughed as she flexed her right arm and looked adoringly at the peaked lemon-sized bicep that erupted upward. “That's what I thought,” she chuckled. “This face, this body, and these muscles. You don't know whether to feel horny or afraid, do you?”
But I did know how to feel. I felt afraid. Allison had been abusive and manipulative throughout our entire relationship, up until Lola Lopez overpowered and humiliated her. The only thing that made her nice was feeling weak. If she felt strong again, she was going to be mean again, and I was going to suffer. “So what do you think?” Allison asked again, rising to her tiptoes and spreading her lats, her entire body throbbing with carved muscle and beaded with sweat. “Tell me how my muscles look.”
“They're just... I don't know... big,” I stammered. “You look like a bodybuilder.”
“Mmm. Yes I do,” Allison said with a smile as she stroked her big thick quads. “Keep talking.”
“I just... I don't know... Why do you want big muscles anyway?” I asked. “You're a girl.”
When I said that, Allison stopped flexing her muscles and started pointing her finger. “You have no idea what it's like to be a hot girl, Rick!” she said as she stomped toward me. “Do you know how often a guy 'accidentally' brushes up against my tits or 'accidentally' touches my butt? Do you know what it's like to walk down the street with a bunch of guys who are twice as big as you are looking at you with their creepy leering faces? Do you know what it's like to know that most guys are, like, one drink away from pinning you up against a wall and groping you?”
“I thought you liked being sexualized,” I muttered. “Why else would shake your tits so much?”
As soon as those words left my mouth, I realized what a mistake I had made. I expected Allison to rain punches on me, roaring with anger, the way she used to when I said things that she didn't like. But instead she cocked her head and sighed. “I guess I do kind of like being sexualized,” she said. “I love being so hot that men can't control themselves. But I hate it when men try to touch me because they can't control themselves. What can I say Rick? Women are complicated.”
Without warning, Allison grabbed me by the collar and drew her fist back, and I cringed like a frightened dog. Allison glared at me for just a second, then she laughed, lowered her fist and released me. “Awesome,” she said with a chuckle. “I love being strong enough to scare men.”
A couple of minutes later we were all eating pancakes. Dad and I sat in awkward silence as Allison and mom exchanged glances, flirting out in the open. First Allison would pucker way too much as she popped strawberries into her mouth, showing off her luscious lips. Then mom would lean over way too far to pour more orange juice, showing off her gigantic boobs. Then Allison would make a big show of licking syrup from her lips. Then mom would casually flex her biceps as she fixed her hair. I tried not to notice them, but it was hard to ignore how they occasionally kicked me as they played footsie under the table.
After brunch, Allison took a shower as dad cleaned the kitchen, and mom went downstairs to lift. I was playing video games on the couch when Allison ran up, holding her phone. “Why didn't tell me that Kylie is a fighter?” she asked excitedly. “That's so cool!”
“What do you mean 'Kylie is a fighter'?” I asked, my body aching with memories of all the beatings that Kylie inflicted on me over the years, each punch, kick, and choke hold still fresh in my mind. “You mean like her karate lessons or whatever?”
“How is it that you don't know anything about your own sister?” Allison asked with disbelief.
“We never really got along,” I said, before trying to change the subject. “Did you see-”
“I don't get along with my brothers, but that's different, “Allison interrupted. “Kylie is so awesome. Don't you want to be closer to her and learn from her and, like, bask in her greatness?”
A few months ago those words would have burned me like a red hot poker, but now I was so used to people gushing over Kylie that I just shrugged. I guess I wasn't acting as cool as I thought, because Allison saw right through me. “You are so jealous of her it's pathetic,” she laughed. “But anyway, she's all over social media, lobbying to get a shot at the UFC heavyweight title.”
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Part 3, Chapter 37
I probably should have expected that Kylie would get into MMA. She loved physical competition, she had been doing martial arts most of her life, and she loved hurting people. The heavyweight championship was the top of the mountain, though. The UFC took their championships and their rankings very seriously, and they were the de facto governing body for MMA fighting all over the world. Kylie wouldn't be able to sneak in to a title shot like she did with the Mr. Olympia. And because MMA history was full of freakishly big and strong people who got seriously hurt by skilled fighters, Kylie wouldn't be able to lawyer her way into a title shot on the grounds of her brute strength like she did with the World's Strongest Man. After all, the guys in the UFC heavyweight division had been fighting for longer than Kylie had been alive, and brute strength didn't always prevail in MMA. That gave me a glimmer of hope. “I just hope she doesn't get hurt,” I said, lying.
”Kylie? Get hurt? As if,” Allison laughed, shoving her phone in my face. “Check this out.”
The President of the UFC had sent out a tweet saying that Kylie couldn't qualify for a title fight, because she wasn't a professional fighter. “We can't just let people into the ring because they're celebrities who like to fight,” he said. “If we did that we would wind up with the Real Housewives having a slapfight. We have a duty to our fans to showcase only the best fighters in the world.”
Kylie response was as confident and direct as her verbal communication. “I'm undefeated in 11 amateur MMA bouts, all against men, none of whom made it out of the first round with me.”
Kylie's next tweet was a video compilation of several videos clips, all of which showed her defeating larger, older men with horrifying ease. In the first clip, I recognized the pigtails and yellow romper she wore when she was 10 years old, as she rained punches down on a big bald man that she had pinned on his back, her muscular young legs trapping him in an achilles lock. “She looks so young,” Allison sighed, pausing the video, “but still just totally jacked.”
It was hard to argue with her. The video clearly showed 10-year-old Kylie's thick round biceps balled up with power as she smiled down at the helpless man, the panic and pain plainly visible on his bloody face. “I remember dad yelling at her because she got blood on that dress,” I mumbled, remembering the screaming match that Kylie eventually won by driving her tiny fist into dad's stomach, dropping him to the floor like a sack of potatoes. “She wasn't even 10 yet.”
The next video showed Kylie battering a fat bearded man with a flurry of punches as he cringed against the chain link walls of a cage. She appeared to be about 11 years old, and was wearing her blue bandeau bikini, which allowed an unobstructed view of the muscular power coursing through her young body as she pummeled the much larger man with precision strikes. His body jiggled with fat and twitched like a fish out of water as Kylie's tiny fists crashed into him again and again. Kylie's body, on the other hand, rippled with muscles and moved with mechanical precision as she linked her punches together with terrifying efficiency. Power flowed through her sculpted physique like a wave, from her bulging calves to her dimpled glutes to her chiseled ribs to her bulging lats to her rounded shoulders to her muscle-knotted arms, and finally to her fists, which pounded the big man's body with piston-like regularity. The big man was drooping and shaking when Kylie launched a high kick that brought her shin crashing into his jaw, and brought his body crashing onto the ground. She held the pose for just a second, her muscle-knotted back to the camera showing off her thick round butt which was practically bare beneath the shimmering blue fabric of her bikini. Allison paused the video again. “A girl that age is not supposed to have a body like that,” she sighed.
“She always told us she was going to a book club on Friday nights,” I mumbled. “She came back with scraped knuckles. Mom and dad would ask her about it, but she just smiled and laughed...”
The third clip must have been from last year, judging by the way that Kylie's blue bikini strained against the hulking landscape of her back and her muscle-rounded globes of her butt. That was the body that Kylie paraded around the pool deck when Allison first came over, the body that Kylie used to pull herself out of the water and do a handstand on the diving board, the body that Kylie willed to bench-press 300 pounds when I dared to doubt her. And now, in the clip playing on Allison's phone, it was the body that Kylie used to throw a huge man in a gi and black belt around a wrestling ring like a rag doll, her hamstrings more muscular than my quads, and her lats thicker than my forearms. The video froze for just a second, so that some graphics could be superimposed. The words '3-time Sambo world champion' appeared by an arrow that pointed to the large man, and the words 'girl power' appeared by an arrow that pointed to Kylie. The graphics disappeared as the video resumed, just in time for Kylie to lift the burly man up by his collar and belt and throw him to the ground, face-first. In a flash she was on him, straddling his back as her powerful young arms locked around his neck, trapping him in a headlock. The man's face reddened as Kylie giggled at his useless attempts to power out of her hold. The screen faded to plain white text appeared over a black background, reading “#letkyliefight”. “I've retweeted it like 100 times already,” Allison said. “i just hope it works.”
The next day I got home from school to find mom sitting on the couch, crying. Dad tried to comfort her, but she shoved him away, nearly hurling across the room. “What's wrong?” I asked.
“It's Kylie,” mom sobbed. “They're going to let her fight in Mixed Ultimate Martial Arts thingy. I'm so worried that I don't know what to do.”
Memories of all the violent beatings that I had seen Kylie administer filled my mind. I remembered the videos that she posted to Insta showing her mauling grown men when she was still in grade school, I remembered the way she manhandled Kevin King and his friends while I watched in the park, and I remembered all the times that she had kicked my butt over the years. But I couldn't remember Kylie losing a fight, or getting bruised, or even flinching. “Kylie will be fine,” I grumbled.
“Oh I know that, silly,” mom said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I'm worried because she's so strong that she might kill someone, and wind up in jail. And it's not just her strength. She's always had quite a temper. You of all people should know that, Rick. Why, she almost killed you with her boobs just a few weeks ago. Remember? Remember when she smothered you with her boobs?”
“I remember,” I grumbled as I trudged upstairs.
In my room, I broke my self-imposed exile from sports to check MMA news. Sure enough, the UFC president had surrendered to Kylie's social media assault. That wasn't surprising in and of itself, but I raised an eyebrow when I saw that Kylie would be fighting Hunor Horvath in Japan two weeks from now. It would be very hard to prepare for a fight in only two weeks time, especially one on the other side of the planet. And as if that wasn't enough, Kylie would have to submit to an unheard of array of drug tests and blood tests that would require her to give over two pints of blood the day before the fight. The UFC claimed that Kylie's unique body required a unique level of scrutiny.
And then there was her opponent, Hunor Horvath. He wasn't the champion, or even highly ranked, but he was famous for being huge and fighting dirty. He had injured at least 10 fighters in his career, and was always in trouble with the law for violent crimes. According to rumors, he was only allowed to stay in the UFC because he was the UFC President's personal enforcer, a theory supported by the fact that several of the fighters Hunor injured had run afoul of the UFC prior to fighting him.
The UFC was sending a clear message to Kylie by giving her the worst possible combination of preparation time, jet lag and opponent. As if that wasn't enough, they were draining her blood. They didn't want her in the UFC.
The flight to Japan took almost a whole day, and Allison spent most of her time watching the pre-fight promotional videos. The first video was black-and-white video of Hunor Horvath talking to the camera, broken up with clips of his more savage victories. Hunor was well over six feet tall, with a big broad body like a bear, and a face punctuated with a low brow and cauliflower ears. “I'll fight anyone, anywhere,” he barked at the interviewer. “I don't care if she is a girl. I've hit plenty of girls before. Why would I care if this one has muscles? I'm not afraid of a girl with muscles.”
The second video was a black-and-white video of Kylie talking to the camera, broken up with clips of her training. “I've mastered Jujitsu, Krav Maga, Karate, Silat, Judo, Capoeria, Sambo, and Muay Thai,” Kylie said casually, as if she was reading a shopping list. “Besides that I'm a lot stronger, a lot faster, and a lot more well-conditioned than anyone in the UFC. No one can beat me. No one.”
The video concluded with Kylie doing seated concentration concentration curls, her gigantic bicep pumping into a boulder of muscle that looked to be over four inches in diameter, her gigantic breasts spilling out of her workout top in an avalanche of cleavage. Allison stared breathlessly at the screen as Kylie's arm extended and contracted, her bicep curling into a massive ball of rock hard muscle again and again, sweat beading on her skin and shadows highlighting the deep cuts in her muscular body. Allison paused the screen and stared at it ceaselessly until we landed in Tokyo.
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Thanks for the kind words, everyone. Both Lola, and a fight against multiple male opponents are in the near future.
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What a great 3rd chapter.
And shure now we all want another chapter and read what happens with Kylie. And I hope Allison and Rick get more a couple again and he likes her growing.
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Great to see you back writing, I love that Kylie continues to check off things that Rick told her she could never do, she couldn't win the Mr. Olympia contest, check, she couldn't win the World's Strongest Man contest, check, she couldn't beat a UFC champion, I'm 100% positive that's going to be a check. I want him to challenge her to beat a pro football team in a game next! k+!
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Great to hear more of your story.
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Omg,love this story
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YESSSSSSSSSS
so glad to read you again
K+
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Hope more on mom and her muscle...great stuff
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Mom really has not been paying attention if her daughter is the one she is worried about being safe.
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Part 3, Chapter 38
We got to Tokyo early a couple of days before the fight, and we did some sightseeing, but all mom or Allison could talk about was Kylie. I was so sick of hearing them gush over her, that it was almost a relief when fight night arrived. The arena was packed, and I was surprised that the crowd was mostly women. What's more, many of the women were wearing identical shirts. Everywhere I looked in the arena I saw women wearing white workout t-shirts adorned with a big pink logo on the front. “What's with all the matching shirts?” I asked Allison as she and mom sat down next to each other. “Is this a holiday or something?”
“Uh no, dumbass,” Allison said as she and mom removed their coats to reveal that they were also wearing the white shirt with pink logo. “This is from Kylie's workout apparel line. We're all wearing it show our support for Kylie, and for all women who want to compete against men.”
Up close, I could see that the logo was one of those mirror symbols that serve as the gender symbol for women, the ones with a circle and a cross below it. Inside the circle was a stylized cartoon of a curvaceous woman flexing a huge bicep, all drawn with one line as if it were a single brush-stroke. “You see Richard,” mom said, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck and pulling me close to her jutting chest, “this is the international symbol for women, and inside the circle is a strong woman.”
“I get it mom,” I cried. “Cut it out.”
“I just love how these shirts fit,” mom said, releasing me. “And they're so well-made..”
“But the best part is how sexy they make your tits look when they get wet,” Allison purred.
Then Allison dumped her bottle of water all over my mom's chest. The flimsy shirt responded almost instantly, clinging to the contours of mom's huge J-cup breasts, as her big grape-sized nipples erupted outward. “Oh heavens that's cold,” mom said. “My nipples are absolutely freezing!”
“I can always keep them warm in my mouth,” Allison laughed, cocking an eyebrow.
Dad was red with anger, but he had learned not to meddle in mom's affairs. Mom wagged her finger at Allison. “You are a very naughty girl,” she scolded. But as she looked at Allison, her voice softened and her eyes filled with lust. “A very very naughty girl,” she continued. “Someone should give you a spanking. A very rough, very through spanking.”
I cringed at what Allison might say in response, but before she could speak, the lights went down and the fights started. The first few cards were a mixed bag of new fighters and famous fighters, of grappling and striking, of good fights and bad fights. A wave of excitement went through the crowd when the jumbotron in the arena declared that Kylie's fight would be next.
The fighter stats were displayed prominently on the jumbotron. The left side of the screen had a picture of Hunor Horvath snarling, and underneath the picture were his vital statistics: 38 years old, 6'5” tall, 252 pounds, reach of 80”, and a professional record of 21-14. The right side of the screen had a picture of Kylie smiling and flashing the peace sign, and underneath the picture were her vital statistics: 13 years old, 5'3” tall, 301 pounds, reach of 64”, and an amateur record of 11-0.
“301 pounds?' I blurted out. “She weighed 275 like a month ago. No one can put on 25 pounds of muscle in a month.”
But I was wrong. Soon Kylie was walking down the aisle to the octagonal cage, and she had gotten bigger. A lot bigger. She was dressed in pink hotpants and a pink sportsbra, and she was bulging out of them in every way possible. Her thighs bulged out of the leg holes of the shorts, her butt bulged out of the back of her shorts, her abs and obliques bulged out of the waistline of her shorts, her lats and delts bulged out of the back of her bra, and her boobs bulged out of the front of her bra. The women in the crowd were screaming themselves hoarse as Kylie walked into the ring, her hair braided perfectly into a ponytail, and a confident smile on her face.
Hunor Horvath walked down the aisle to a Hungarian pop song, but no one was paying attention. In the ring, Kylie was flexing her muscles for the adoring crowd. As Hunor stepped into the cage, Kylie ceased her posing and fixed him with her icy blue eyes. Hunor's face showed a mixture of confusion and fear as saw Kylie in person for the first time. She was bigger now than she was in the videos that she had posted online, bigger than she was when she won the Mr. Olympia contest, and bigger than she was when she won the World's Strongest Man contest. She was huge.
I recognized the expression on Hunor's face, because I had worn it myself, first when I was 14 and Kylie was 9. She told me that she had been lifting weights after her gymnastics lessons, and that she wanted to armwrestle. I agreed, chuckling as we walked into the kitchen, but I stopped laughing when my kid sister rolled up her sleeve. I could feel my jaw drop open as 9-year old Kylie raised her right arm and flexed a bicep as big and round as a billiard ball as she looked me dead in the eye, smirking with delight. A few seconds after that, I was struggling to keep my arm up as Kylie giggled and taunted me, talking about how she could feel her muscles getting bigger and stronger as I strained against them. A few seconds after that my hand was pinned against the table, aching in the unrelenting pressure of my kid sister's iron grip as she flexed her left arm and kissed her bicep.
At that fateful moment the kitchen, I stared at 9-year old Kylie with the same mix of fear and confusion that I saw on Hunor Horvath's face as 13-year old Kylie raised her right arm and flexed a bicep as big and round as a shot put as she looked him dead in the eye, smirking with delight.
Then the bell rang.
Hunor shuffled into the center of the ring, his fists raised like a boxer, while Kylie strolled casually to meet him. As Kylie approached Hunor, her body tightened with power like a coiled spring, her cantaloupe-sized calves hardened into heart-shaped blocks of muscle, and her narrow midsection rippling with a symphony of abs, obliques, and serratus muscles. Her arms hung casually at her sides, but her clenched fists made her forearms swell into knots of muscle the size of grapefruits.
Hunor launched a volley of blows down at Kylie, a couple of quick jabs followed by a pair of hooks, all of which Kylie dodged with ease. Her massive body flowed like a rive of muscle, moving with effortless speed and grace as she slipped the jabs and ducked the hooks, each dodge taking her a step closer to Hunor and negating his reach advantage. Hunor tried to back up and keep Kylie at arms length, but before he could take a single step she shot forward, planting her shoulder into his midsection and wrapping her arms around his legs, executing a picture-perfect double-leg takedown.
The explosive force of Kylie's takedown was so great that her momentum carried them both across the ring, where they landed near the edge of the cage. A split second later, Kylie had passed Hunor's guard, and was straddling his body, her golden-brown muscle-etched thighs dwarfing his pale flabby torso. As Hunor struggled uselessly against my little sister's enormous powerful legs, Kylie smiled and brought her hands to her waist in a 'most muscular' pose that sent a wave of awe through the assembled crowd. Her trapezius muscles swelled until they touched her ears, her pecs ballooned until they touched her chin, and her biceps bulged until they squeezed so far into her bosom that the golden brown orbs of her gigantic breasts began to spill out of her sportsbra. Even Hunor Horvath, the man who was famous for brutalizing heavyweight MMA fighters, froze in awe with his eyes as wide as saucers as the hulking 13-year old girl looked down on him and began to laugh. “Didn't you say you weren't scared of my muscles?” Kylie taunted. “Because you sure look scared to me.”
Hunor recovered quickly from his shock, and reached up to grab Kylie's wrists, but he was far too slow to contend with her well-honed reflexes. His got his hands within six inches of Kylie, when she snatched them out of the air with ease, wrapping her tiny fingers around his wrists. A look of sheer panic crossed Hunor's face as he began to struggle, his body pinned beneath her steel-hard legs, his arms locked in her iron grip. A smile spread across Kylie's face as she began to slap Hunor in the face with his own hands. “Stop hitting yourself,” she giggled. “Why are you hitting yourself?”
The women in the audience laughed and cheered as Kylie continued to smack Hunor with his own hands, harder and harder, until eventually his nose was bloodied and his face was red. Finally, the referee jumped in front of Kylie and began to wave his arms, signaling a break to stand both fighters up again. Kylie laughed and tossed her hair as she stepped off of Hunor, who pulled himself off the ground with shame as the referee pointed to Kylie and held up one finger toward the judges. “What does that mean?” mom asked. “What is he doing with his fingers.”
“He's telling the judges to subtract a point from Kylie's score for unsportsmanlike conduct,” I said. “Remember how she always got fouls and penalties for taunting in youth sports? It's like that.”
“It doesn't matter,” Allison scoffed. “Kylie does whatever she wants.”
It was hard to argue with her. As the two fighters looked at each other from the corners of the ring, Kylie moved her thumb across her neck in a throat-slicing gesture, and Hunor Horvath gulped with fear. The referee barked at Kylie, and signaled for the judges to deduct another point from her score as he waved for the fighters to resume the contest, and a smile spread across Kylie's face.
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I like the hints at societal change that Kylie, intentional or not seems to be driving. Posting her pics and taunts and workout routine seems to be energizing more than just Mom and Allison now.
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Yeah, it seems to be that Kylie has started to really change how society views females, and how females view themselves, I hope we see pics and vids of females of all ages becoming more muscular, more fit, stronger and loving to show it all off. As far as Kylie herself is concerned, this "fight" is going to be nothing but a massacre, but I do like the fact that it's not going to be perfect, as her taunting is deducting points from her score, but we all know what's going to happen, other than maybe Hunor getting a lucky shot in when she's distracted, it's going to be domination, plain and simple. Wonder when Kylie's going to move from single sports and move on to team sports? k+!
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It's really cool! Thank you!
But where is Lola? I hope she will prepare some big surprise for us :)
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You know might be interesting to see what kind of things she did when she was younger than 13,like beating up teachers at school,just a thought
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Maybe, but I've rather the story not have any flashback tangents.
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Part 3, Chapter 39
Once again Kylie strolled calmly into the center of the ring. This time Hunor approached her tentatively, his face and body language showing the fear that Kylie had instilled in him with her dominant strength and audacious displays of muscularity. As Kylie walked steadily toward Hunor he backed away, lashing out with jabs which Kylie swatted away like flies, and with leg kicks that Kylie didn't bother to check, choosing instead to let them bounce harmlessly off of her titanic thighs.
Hunor was running out of room to back away, and step by step, Kylie closed in on him. Once or twice Hunor tried to slip away along the fence, but Kylie read his movements perfectly, controlling the ring and cutting off every attempt at escape as she continued to shrug off his attacks.
Then Kylie struck. I didn't see her set up her kick. I didn't see her square her hips, or engage her calves, or anything like that. All I saw was the golden brown blur of her body in movement, and the dark red spray of blood from Hunor Horvath's mouth as her heel struck his jaw.
Hunor collapsed into a pile as Kylie strolled casually back to her corner, and the referee waved his arms over Hunor's motionless body to signal the end of the fight. As the women in the crowd cheered, the jumbotron showed a replay of the knockout strike. Kylie had planted her left hand on the mat and swung her legs into the air, her rock-hard abdominal muscles rippling as she twisted her hips, executing a capoeria cartwheel kick that moved so fast that it blurred even in slow motion.
The screen froze as her tiny foot struck Hunor's jaw, causing a shockwave that ran across his face as his eyes rolled back in his head and his body began to slacken. While Hunor looked sloppy and defeated, Kylie looked as powerful and confident as ever, the freeze-framed acrobatic kick showcasing her cocky smirk, shining hair, rippling muscles, bulging butt, and giant boobs all at once.
Hunor Horvath was loaded onto a stretcher as the ring announcer came out to make Kylie's victory official. And that was the end of the fight. 90 seconds into the first round of her first professional fight, my 13-year old kid sister had knocked out one of the most feared men in Mixed Martial Arts. The women were still cheering as the referee raised Kylie's hand in victory, and she bowed to the crowd. The ringside interviewer stepped into the ring, and looked down at her with awe as she began to hit one bodybuilding pose after another for the adoring crowd. “Kylie, you just made one heck of an entrance into the UFC,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Kind of bored,” Kylie said calmly as she smiled down at the pumpkin-shaped slabs of her pectoral muscles. “That guy kept his weight too far back on his feet, and his elbows were too far apart. I could have knocked him out in like 5 seconds, but I wanted to give the fans a show.”
“You certainly gave them a show,” the interviewer said. “What's next for you?”
“I think I proved that I should get a shot at the heavyweight title,” Kylie said as she put her massive arms behind her head and flexed her deeply cut abdominal muscles, shifting her hips from side to side to make her obliques and ribs flex and contract. “I want to prove my superiority.”
“That could be tricky, Kylie,” the interviewer said. “The interim champ is fighting the #1 contender tonight, and if there's no clear winner, we might have a 3-way tie atop of the division.”
“Well, I just hope the fans in Tokyo get a good show,” Kylie said, smiling brightly and blowing kisses to the crowd as they cheered her name. “Thank you all so much!”
“What a phony,” I grumbled. “I can't believe people are falling for her 'good girl' routine.”
The heavyweight championship fight was the final fight of the evening. It was a real dud, and ended in a draw. That was bad news for the fans, who wanted a good show, and for Kylie, would now have to wait for a three-way tie to resolve itself before she could fight for the title.
After Mom, dad, Allison, and I were waiting in the hotel lobby for Kylie to get down from the penthouse so we could go to dinner. It was hard to act natural with all the men who stopped and stared. Mom was wearing a yellow floral-print cocktail dress that was way too short and way too low-cut, showing off both her slender muscular legs and huge jiggling breasts, with her salt-and pepper hair up in a bouffant and yellow horned-rim glasses that matched her dress. Allison was wearing a floor-length red gown that was both strapless and sleeveless, with her hair swept stylishly to the side. Her dress was downright modest compared to mom's, vented to the thigh and showing just a little cleavage. She would have looked like a fashion model or a movie star, except for the bulging muscles on her arms and shoulders, which were streaked with veins and lined with deep cuts. “Did you just get back from the gym?” I asked her. “You look really... um...”
“You look big as heck, and ripped to blazes,” mom said to her. “You're quite a dish!”
“Thanks,” Allison said, adjusting her hair. “I got a quick pump on before dinner. I wanted to show Kylie... I mean, I wanted Kylie to see how well her girls-only lifting program is working for me.”
Then the elevator dinged and Kylie strolled out into the lobby, wearing an ivory-colored cocktail dress like Marilyn Monroe wore in The Seven Year Itch, but much smaller. The massive swell of her muscular body made the dress look as skimpy as a bathing suit, her tanned M-cup boobs spilled out on either side of the halter top, and the hem of the skirt was a full six inches above the knee. Allison ran up to her immediately, preparing to flex her muscles. “Hey Kylie, check this out-” she said, only to be instantly overrun with reporters before she could get within three feet of Kylie.
We ran from paparazzi all the way into our cab, and some were even waiting for us outside of the restaurant. Inside the restaurant, the maitre'd greeted us immediately. As we walked to our table, heads turned and cameras flashed. Kylie's name was whispered in reverence by the other diners, and she smirked delightedly at the attention. Once again, it was all about her. “Why does everyone keep saying 'kyonyu'?” I asked the maitre'd as we approached our table. “What does 'kyonyu' mean?”
The maitre'd blushed and looked down, and Kylie laughed. “'Kyonyu' means big tits,” she said.
“How nice of them to notice,” mom said, adjusting her cleavage. “Everyone here is so friendly.”
Allison hurriedly took the chair at Kylie's right, trying her best not to look too eager, and failing. I rolled my eyes as I sat down at Allison's right, and I noticed that there was an empty chair at the table, as if we were expecting a sixth person. “You were amazing tonight Kylie,” Allison chirped.
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said without looking up from the menu. “I'm pretty much always amazing.”
“I-I've been lifting really heavy lately, thanks to your girls-only lifting program,” Allison stammered. “And my muscles are really getting really big. Check this out.”
Allison raised her arm and flexed, and her bicep sprang to life, as big and round as a baseball, and perfectly carved. Then a young woman's voice called from behind us. “You call that a muscle?”
I instantly recognized the sultry purr and flowery accent of Lola Lopez, and realized who the sixth seat at the table was for. “Oh look who it is!” mom sang. “Oh Lola your dress is something else.”
That was an understatement. Lola was wearing a sleeveless strapless floor-length red gown, just like Allison. But unlike Allison's dress, Lola's was covered with sequins and quite revealing. The dress was vented high and wide on both sides, exposing the curves of Lola's muscular legs all the way up to her glutes as she slinked toward the table in red stiletto heels. The top of her dress was cut like a bustier, forcing her big honey-brown breasts upward and outward until they appeared ready to pop out, making it clear that her bust was now two full cup sizes bigger than Allison's. And Lola was ripped. Her young body was lined with thick angular muscles and gouged with cuts and striations, from her blocky deltoids to her diamond-cut calves and everything in between, including the brickwork abs that showed clearly through her impossibly tight dress. Lola sneered as she approached Allison, and scoffed at her upraised arm. “Your tiny biceps look even more like a fleabites than your tiny breasts,” Lola sad haughtily, holding her arm up in front of Allison's. “Now this is a muscle.”
Eyes widened at our table, as well as the surrounding tables, as the sultry 12-year-old Latina slowly flexed her arm, and her bicep began to contract into a peak like a volcano rising from the sea. Lola smiled as she her bicep slowly grow into an angular double-headed block of muscle bigger than a baseball, a bicep lined with striations and streaked with veins, a bicep that completely blocked Allison's from view as if it were a daisy stem behind a tree trunk. Allison's face fell as she gawked at the chiseled rock of tween muscle that made her own bicep look small and soft by comparison.
Lola chuckled as she relaxed her arm, then with no warning, she grabbed Allison's chair by the back posts, and moved it away from the table as if it were light as a feather, as Allison clung to her seat for dear life. A waiter hurried to place the empty chair next to Kylie, and Lola slid into place like a tiger prowling. “Thank you for noticing my dress, Senora O'Reilly,” Lola said. “But to be honest, I chose it only because it goes with my favorite earrings.”
Lola tossed her hair back, showing off the gold, pearl and emerald earrings that looked like daisies, which she had stolen from Allison weeks ago. “That bitch,” Allison hissed under her breath.
-
Good to see Lola come back in the story, looking as awesome as usual, if not more, the hierarchy seems to not have changed at all, even with Allison working out, Lola seems to effortlessly stay in front of her, but of course, Kylie is a distant first place, and most likely always will be. Of course, there are always room for surprises, but somehow I don't see Kylie being removed from the top of the mountain. But a guy can dream. Anyway, good stuff again, k+!
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Thank you for Lola's entrance! It's awesome to see how rapidly she develops and surpass Allison in every way :) Interesting how soon she will surpass Kylie's mom in bust department?
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Wow,love the young muscle
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Wow,love the young muscle
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Part 3, Chapter 40
Over dinner, the girls talked mostly about Kylie, naturally. Dad and I didn't say much. We all ordered sushi, and it was so loving arranged on little plates that we had the waiter take pictures of us preparing to eat. “I have an idea for a picture,” Lola said to Kylie, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Wielding her chopsticks with impressive dexterity, Lola grabbed a piece of sushi an set it on top of her left breast, the pearly white of the rice contrasting against the honey-brown of her skin. “Hey, that was my sushi,” Kylie said with a giggle as she leaned toward Lola, and licked her lips.
Lola turned to my dad, who was sitting across from her at the table. “Hey old man,” she barked. “Take a picture of Kylie eating sushi off of my teta,” she ordered. “Make it a good picture.”
Dad was trembling with anger as he steadied his camera, and Kylie leaned over and parted her pouty lips as she drew her face to the jiggling orb of Lola's right breast. She then took Lola's left tit in her left hand, squeezing it gently as Lola stroked her golden hair. Dad began taking pictures as Kylie slowly slipped the sticky ball of fish and rice into her mouth, dragging her tongue across the surface of Lola's upthrust boob. “Mmmm,” Kylie purred with satisfaction as she slowly released Lola's breast.
“I've missed your body,” Lola said, running her hand down Kylie's arm. I wanted to see you growing, getting bigger and stronger. Pumping these big hard muscles of yours, over and over.”
“I sent you videos of me with my sparring partners,” Kylie said as she straightened her arm and turned her wrist, making her tricep pop out so that it looked like a giant crab claw pinching her elbow.
“They weren't enough,” Lola said. “I wanted to hear the plates clanking, and taste your sweat.”
Then the waiter returned and freshened our drinks, and Kylie and Lola snapped out of their lusty stupor, giggling and blushing as mom fawned over their young love and dad simmered with frustration. “Actually I haven't been lifting at all,” Kylie said. “I've been focusing on pure athleticism. Cardio, flexibility, and functional strength. And brushing up on my fighting skills, of course.”
“How is that possible?” Allison blurted out. “You got so much bigger. You're... gigantic.”
Kylie shrugged. “I'm a growing girl,” she said with a smirk. “I just keep getting bigger.”
As we ate dinner, Kylie and Lola giggled and flirted as if they were the only people in the restaurant, occasionally trading kisses. They were oblivious to mom's doting, dad's glowering, Allison's yearning, and my pouting. As their public displays of affection continued, they drew more and more amazed stares from other tables, where diners gawked at the buxom muscular lesbian lovebirds.
After our meal, we picked at our green tea ice cream as Kylie and Lola continued to flirt. Kylie was playing it cool of course, but Lola was relentlessly sexual, much to dad's obvious displeasure. “I love the way you lick ice cream,” Lola cooed. “Out of all your muscles, I like your tongue the best.”
Kylie said nothing in response. Instead she raised a spoonful of ice cream to her perfect red lips, her tongue theatrically playing over the creamy dessert as Lola's eyes burned with salacious intent. “Oh fuck me,” Allison whispered as she blushed, and her nipples stiffened. “Just... fuck me.”
Lola leaned out of her chair and drew her face near to Kylie's, her EE breasts practically spilling out of her dress, and her eyes burning with salacious intent. “I'm sick of licking ice cream, I want to lick you,” she growled lustily. “I want to crawl under the table and worship your perfect womanhood with my mouth, right here in front of everyone.”
“That's enough!” dad said loudly, pounding his fists on the table. “This is disgusting!”
Kylie's eyes focused on dad and narrowed as she gently pushed Lola back into her seat. “What was that?” she asked coldly, the corner of her mouth curling into a scowl. “What did you say?”
“This little exhibition is disgusting!” dad said, his face red with anger. “You're my daughter, and I don't want you going out in public dressed like a whore. And I definitely don't want that little Mexican lesbo slut crawling all over you and saying all those filthy things to you! There are reporters here!”
Lola turned her nose up at dad. “Racist, homophobic and misogynistic,” she snorted. “Well, I hope you know that your hatred will only make your daughter's toto taste even sweeter.”
“You are trash!” dad snarled at Lola.
Lola laughed as she adjusted her overflowing bustline, the jiggle of her ample bosom drawing gasps of admiration from the onlookers. But I was focused on Kylie. Her eyes were wide open and burning with anger, her nostrils were flaring, her breathing was getting heavier, and her muscles were starting to bulge with tension. “Daddy,” Kylie said venomously as her shoulders bloomed with striations across all three heads of her deltoids, and her trapezius muscles thickened so much that they pushed her hair forward, framing her face with a mane of golden curls, “did you just call my girlfriend a slut?”
Looking in dad's eyes, I could see the cold water of fear dousing the flames of his anger. “Kylie, I-I'm so sorry,” he stammered, as mom crossed her arms and scowled at him. “I just-”
“Daddy,” Kylie said again, interrupting his apology as her pectoral muscles began to swell out of the plunging neckline like golden brown pumpkins, and her huge tits began to raise and lower with each breath, “did you just call my girlfriend trash?”
“I don't know what came over me, Kylie,” dad whimpered. “I lost my temper, and I-”
“Oh, you lost your temper, did you?” Kylie growled as she stood up from the table, her fists clenched so that her biceps balled up like steel cannonballs, her forearms as thick as artillery shells. “Do you want to see what happens when I lose my temper? Do you want to see the wrath of a goddess?”
All over the restaurant, men and women backed up in their chairs as my 13-year-old kid sister walked slowly around the table, her curvaceous body bulging with muscles that were impossibly big and impossibly cut, her gaze intense enough to wither a redwood tree. “No Kylie please,” dad sobbed.
“Stop! Talking!” Kylie roared, her bare back swelling out from her trim waist with knots of muscle as thick as bricks, as men began to shake in their shoes, and women began to cry with fear. “Your weakness is even more infuriating than your rudeness! How dare you speak to me!?”
As Kylie approached dad, he shrank in his chair, trembling and crying. At the last minute, mom jumped between them, her humongous boobs bouncing so wildly that they were still jiggling as she began to plead with Kylie. “No Kylie, please,” mom said. “I couldn't stand to see you get in trouble for killing him. Besides, this is all my fault. I've been such a softy, he hasn't learned his place.”
Without looking at mom, Kylie grabbed her by the waist and lifted her out of the way as if she were weightless. Time seemed to stand still as Kylie glared at dad, dad cowered in his seat, and mom clung to Kylie's massive thigh, begging her daughter to show mercy to her husband. Finally, Kylie spoke. “Apologize to Lola,” she said. “If she's satisfied with your apology, I won't crush you.”
Dad spun instantly toward the sultry Latina. “I'm sorry, Lola,” he whined. “I'm so sorry.”
Lola cackled and leaned back in her chair, lifting a musclebound leg into the air and pointing her red-painted toes at my father. “Kiss my foot,” she said. “And beg me for my forgiveness.”
Dad reddened with humiliation as he gently pushed his lips against Lola's tiny girly toes. “Please,” he gulped. “I beg for your forgiveness, Lola. Please forgive me.”
Lola puckered her lips, as if debating her response, while dad continued to supplicate himself to her. “Amazons do not accept apologies from men,” she said at last. “However, they may be satisfied with the humiliation of men, and forgive men of their transgressions. And I am satisfied.”
With that, Kylie's steady smile returned, and her muscles relaxed as she turned away from dad. The entire restaurant breathed a sigh of relief as Kylie motioned for the bill, and we readied ourselves to leave. As we stood up from the table, I noticed that Allison's chair was soaking wet. When I looked up again, she was staring right at me. “Don't you dare judge me,” she said. “Don't say a word.”
The next morning, Allison and I were awoken by a knock on the door. A concierge hurried us up and down to the lobby, where he showed us into a limousine where mom and dad were waiting for us. “Kylie arranged for a special surprise for us,” mom beamed. “She's so considerate.”
Dad was still shaken and bleary-eyed from his brush with death the night before, but his face began to brighten as we pulled into a luxury car dealership, where a white Lamborghini Huracan sat in the middle of a small empty lot, with a big red bow on top. “Hey,” dad squeaked. “That's the car of my dreams right there. You don't think that... You don't think that Kylie bought it for me, do you?”
As we piled out of the limo, a second car showed up, and Kylie and Lola exited clad in full-length coats, their breath fogging in the winter morning. Kylie took a small box from her pocket and opened it as she presented it to dad. Dad's eyes sparkled with joy as he lifted a set of keys out of the box and ran his fingers over the Lamborghini logos emblazoned on them. “Kylie, I don't know how to thank you,” dad said, his voice choked with disbelief and sentiment. “This means a lot to me.”
“No need to thank me, daddy,” Kylie said with a smile. “This is a gift, and it's also a lesson.”
-
Hmm, very nice stuff, I'm wondering what the whole lesson is going to be, I'm guessing Kylie's dad's car isn't going to be driven at all, because she's going to smash it to bits in front of him. Also, loved the intense lesbian interplay between Lola and Kylie, these girls definitely do not look or act their age, so it's sort of hard to really think of them being 12 and 13 years old, both are so smart, strong, and sexy that it's kind of okay to think of them that way despite their age.
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Don't think Lola and Kylie will just give the car to her dad. Perhaps he has to do a sexual photo session in and on the car with dad taking the pictures.
Please continue.
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Would love to see lola kick some male ass again
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Part 3, Chapter 41
Dad was giddy as he unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel of the Huracan, his hands caressing the interior as he settled into the seat, and put the keys in the ignition. Dad smiled from ear to ear as the engine roared to life. “Well, will you listen to that,” dad said. “It's beautiful.”
“Why don't you take your new car out for a ride, daddy?” Kylie asked, a nasty smile lighting up her face as she walked to the rear of the car, tracing her fingers along it's shining white paint job.
“I think I will,” dad said as he closed the door. “After all I've been through, I deserve this.”
“You totally deserve this,” Kylie said as she ran her fingers along the beautiful car's spoiler.
Dad gunned the engine on his new Lamborghini, tightened his grip on the steering wheel, popped the clutch, and hit the gas. And nothing happened.
The wheels of the car spun freely in the air, held aloft by Kylie, who had hooked her fingers under the car's rear bumper frame, and was holding the rear end just an inch off the ground. Dad was the last one to realize what was happening, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes as he glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Kylie smiling back at him. Then the disappointment in his eyes turned to fear as the rear end of his new car rose higher and higher into the air as Kylie slowly lifted it into the air, extending her arms until it was resting on its front end, the front valance panel crunching under the weight of the car, dad clinging to the seat like he was on a rollercoaster. Then she let the car fall.
The rear end crashed to the ground in front of her, a horrible sound issuing from the undercarriage as metal bent and rubber snapped inside of the luxury sports car, and the airbag inflated inside, smacking dad in the face and knocking him backward. Dad wiped blood from his nose and pawed at the door to escape, but Kylie was already in front of him, smiling at him through the driver's side window. He got the door open about an inch when her right arm shot forward, striking the door with a palm strike that bent the doorframe like tinfoil and smashed the door into the car's frame, wedging it hopelessly shut. Dad froze for just a moment, then he scrambled for the passenger's side door. But once again, Kylie was too fast for him. The instant he began to move she flipped over the car in a round-off, her big coat fluttering around her like a superhero's cape, landing perfectly in front of the passenger's side door just in time to look dad in the face and smile. Kylie wagged the finger of her right hand in a scolding manner as she delivered a left-handed palm strike that smashed the passenger's side door into the car's frame, trapping dad inside. “Kylie,” dad pleaded. “I-I don't know what you're thinking about doing, but please don't do it. I'm begging you, Kylie.”
Kylie tossed her hair as she walked around to the front of the car, and climbed up onto the hood in her bare feet. “You know what, daddy?” Kylie asked venomously. “You said a lot of hurtful things last night. But what really made me mad was that you said I was dressed like a whore. I've told you a million times that women should never feel ashamed of their bodies. I've told you a million times that women have the right to look, feel and act sexy without being degraded by men. These are simple facts of life, but you just won't learn them on your own. So I've decided to teach you a lesson.”
“I'm sorry Kylie,” dad pleaded. “You can dress however you want, Kylie. Please just-”
Dad's voice died in his throat as Kylie removed her coat with a flourish to reveal a blue bandeau bikini, similar to the one that they fought over when she was 10, only scaled up to fit the immense muscularity of her 13-year old body. The top strained to cover her hulking torso and huge boobs like a blue rubber band trying to hold back an avalanche, and the bottom plunged so low along her pelvis that it would've made a porn star blush. “How's this for dressing like a whore, daddy?” Kylie laughed as she ran her fingers through her hair and rolled her hips, her gigantic breasts bouncing and jiggling in the tiny top, her buttocks pumping like pistons, and her bare abdomen rippling with muscle.
“Oh fuck me,” Allison gulped as she collapsed into me, trembling and breathing erratically.
Then Kylie rolled her shoulders and stood up straight, her legs together and her arms elevated slightly, as if she was preparing to pose in a bodybuilding competition. And pose she did. A bright toothy smile spread across Kylie's face as she cocked her hips, extended her left leg, and raised her arms overhead. She left her right arm extended slightly, so that her lats bulged and her ribs popped, but she lowered her left slowly, flexing a bicep so big that it peaked above her ear and so well-developed that it looked as though it might tear away from the rest of her arm. “Just look at this body,” Kylie said haughtily. I have the biggest, most muscular, most perfectly developed physique in the history of the world. You wouldn't want me to cover all this would you?”
“Oh my perfect little muscle princess gets bigger every day!” mom said excitedly.
As if Kylie had heard mom, she transitioned to a side chest pose that forced her gigantic boobs to spill over her bulging arms, even as her gigantic pectorals rose up to her chin. “Aren't you proud of me, daddy?” she jeered. “The biggest male bodybuilders in the world spend 20 years killing themselves with steroids and crash diets, and they can't even get close to the muscles that I built in 5 years with nothing but hard work and will power. Not. Even. Close.”
“Kylie, you've made your point,” Dad said. “Please stop.”
“Stop?” Kylie giggled. “Why would I stop? I love to show off my body. And Lola loves it, too.”
On cue, Lola removed her coat to reveal a tiny red bandeau bikini similar to Kylie's, and began to stretch and flex her honey-brown limbs as her black hair shone in the winter sun. As Kylie pumped her massive chest over and over, reveling in the rocky expanse of her pecs and the pillowy swell of her breasts, Lola climbed onto the car hood holding a tube of oil, licking her lips as she began to crawl toward Kylie like a predatory animal, her ample tween bosom threatening to burst free of her top at any second. Lola filled her hands with oily white cream and began to lovingly caress Kylie's body, covering them both in a shimmering film of oil, as Kylie hit one bodybuilding pose after another.
We were all awestruck, both by how much Kylie had grown since she won the the Mr. Olympia competition, and by the overtly sexual way in which she displayed herself, batting her eyes and puckering her lips as she did a front lat spread that made her nearly as wide as the car hood. Lola crawled over her hulking mass, kissing and groping, her hands disappearing into the softness of Kylie's breasts and sliding along the impossible hardness of Kylie's cuts. “This is too much!” dad said, closing his eyes as Kylie got down on her knees, and Lola straddled her back. “Stop this at once!”
“Oh no you don't!” Kylie ordered, slamming her hand on the car hood with such force that the passenger side airbag erupted. “Daddy if you don't open your eyes right now I'm going to fold this car up like tinfoil, with you inside, and throw it into the ocean.”
Reluctantly, dad opened his eyes, just in time to see Kylie smoosh her enormous oil-covered breasts onto the windshield, laughing as she did. “Just look at these boobies,” Kylie said haughtily. “These are the most famous breasts in the world. You wouldn't want me to cover these up, would you?”
Kylie gyrated as she rubbed her breasts on the windshield, while Lola undulated seductively on her back as if she were riding a mechanical bull. “Aren't you proud of me, daddy?” she jeered. “Thanks to digital advertising, my breasts make me more money in a week than most men make in a year. I make more money off social media advertising than any other man or woman alive, and almost every day some pervert offers me a million dollars just to look at these babies.”
"I wish I was a millionaire," Allison sighed, her lips trembling. "I would give it all for just a peek."
Dad looked absolutely sick as Kylie turned around, and smooshed her round oil-covered butt against the windshield. “Just look at this ass,” Kylie said haughtily. “This is the biggest, tightest, most perfectly shaped butt in the world. You wouldn't want me to cover this up, would you?”
Kylie pulled her butt off the windshield and began to twerk, as Lola began to spank and caress her buttocks. Kylie's glutes were as big and round as basketballs when relaxed, but when she flexed them they hardened into curled slabs of striated muscle resembling truck tires. “Aren't you proud of me, daddy?” she jeered. “My butt is mentioned in 8 of the top-10 hip hop songs on the billboard chart,” And it has its own Insta account, which has more followers than Major League Baseball.”
“Okay Kylie you win!” dad cried. “I'll never judge a woman's clothing again! Just stop!”
Kylie laughed as she took Lola in her arms, and they shared a deep, passionate kiss, punctuated with groping hands and grinding hips. When they had finished, Kylie hopped off the car hood and grabbed the driver's side door of the Lamborghini and tore it away from the car as easily as she would open an envelope.“If you ever say anything about the way I dress again, I'll do something that makes this look like an Easter Sunday mass.” Kylie growled. “And I'll do it in public.”
“Okay,” dad whined as he stepped out of the ruined auto. “But... can we at least get my car fixed?”
“No,” Kylie laughed as she grabbed the sill on the driver's side and flipped the Lamborghini onto its roof as easily as she would spread a bed. “I'm afraid it's been totaled.”
“My car...” dad moped as he stood among the shards of broken glass and pooling oil
“Like I said,” Kylie laughed. “This is a gift and a lesson. A gift for me and a lesson for you.”
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Seek therapy.
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Hope Allison and mom would get much bigger too.
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Yeah, I enjoyed this episode a lot, a lot of hot stuff going on, the posing with the sexiness, and of course, Kylie completely destroying her dad's car, seemingly with ease, that was hot in and of itself. I look forward to more! K+!
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Part 3, Chapter 42
Dad didn't say much for the rest of the morning. After lunch, when Kylie wanted to take us to a sumo training academy, he nodded sheepishly and slouched into the limousine. Dad and I sat silently in the car as mom and Allison talked about lifting weights and compared their muscles, mom in her capri pants and a too-tight sweater, and Allison in a flouncy blouse and long skirt. “Check out these legs,” mom said, pulling off her pants to reveal her long, slender and powerfully muscled legs. “I'm going to compete in my first bodybuilding contest this year, so I've really been going crazy on the squat rack. My legs used to be so skinny, but now I l just love how they look.”
“Your legs are awesome, “ Allison said as mom pointed her toes so that her calves contract into chiseled blocks of muscle, and her vastus muscles bunched up above her knee. “You have slender ankles and knees, and that really makes your calves and quads pop. It's a totally hot look.”
“Mom, that's gross,” I groaned. “Cut it out and put your pants back on.”
“Oh hush,” mom scolded as she pulled her lacy white panties upward, showing impressive striations along her pelvis. “You know Richard, if you pumped some iron every once in a while, you could have big powerful muscles like your mom and your girlfriend do.”
“Not likely,” Allison chuckled, and mom burst into laughter.
“Oh you're right,” mom cackled. “I can't even imagine Rick with muscles as big as yours.”
“I know,” Allison laughed. “He's such as wimp. But hey, check out my chest. I've been on a powerlifting kick, and I'm not even trying to gain mass, but my pecs are getting crazy thick.”
Allison pulled down the neckline of her blouse with her thumb and tensed her chest, causing inch-thick pads of muscle to pop up under her creamy white skin, as if from out of nowhere. “Oh my,” mom said, tracing a finger down Allison's pectoral cleavage. “Those are thick. And very hard.”
I groaned at the idea of Allison and mom fawning over each other for the rest of the ride, but luckily for me the limo stopped in front of the sumo academy a second later, and we all put on our coats and filed out of the car. Kylie and Lola were waiting outside. Lola was wearing her glasses, as well as a stocking cap and puffer parka that covered her chiseled physique, looking once more like a mousy young girl instead of a salacious amazon. Kylie, on the other hand was wearing leather hotpants and a sleeveless leather vest that exposed all of her abdomen and most of her chest, impervious to the cold as she stood casually with her arm around Lola, their breath fogging in the cold air. “I arranged a tour of this sumo stable for Lola,” Kylie said. “But you four can come along, too.”
“I love the idea of a contest that is purely based on power and aggression,” Lola purred.
The sumo stable was a big wood-paneled room with several rings on the floor, and it was filled with men so big and stout that they were almost spherical. An old man named Jiro joined us, looking at Kylie with disgust as he explained the rules of sumo as we watched the wrestlers practice. The wrestlers tried their best to maintain their focus, but the women proved too much of a distraction. After a few minutes, it seemed like every sumo in the room was either staring at Allison's face or mom's tits, and Jiro had to scold them several times, and remind them to focus. “This is actually really cool,” Allison said. “I love seeing people be overpowered and humiliated. It just does something for me.”
“Are there any women in this academy?” Lola asked. “I would love to see them compete.”
“No,” Jiro said. “Women are not allowed in the sumo ring. It is a sacred tradition. Besides, women cannot be sumo wrestlers. They should stick to gentle things like ballet.”
Kylie rolled her eyes sarcastically at Jiro's comment, but Lola reddened with anger. “We'll just see about that, pendejo,” she huffed as she stomped into the middle of an unoccupied ring.
Around the room, the sumo wrestlers bristled. “You must move at once,” one of them said.
“Then come and move me, if you can,” Lola said turning her nose up.
A large younger man shook his head as he walked toward Lola, and extended a hand toward her shoulder. Instantly, Lola grabbed his wrist and flung him over her head in a perfect judo toss, laughing as he landed on his back outside of the ring. “Amazons don't follow rules made by men,” Lola declared as she took off her hat and glasses, shaking her hair out into luxurious locks, and unzipping her parka. “Amazons force men to follow rules made by women. Let me show you.”
“Oh God, not this routine again,” Allison grumbled. “I hate when she sluts it up like this.”
Beneath her parka Lola was wearing a white one-piece leotard, like women used to wear in the 1980's. The back was completely open, the bottom was cut so high that the muscles of her Apollo's belt were visible, and the neckline plunged so low that the entire gulf of her cleavage was visible as the bodice squeezed her firm breasts together. The only part of Lola's body that her leotard covered were her abs, which were plainly visible through the tight fabric. The sumo wrestlers blushed and looked away. “What's wrong?” Lola crowed, turning from one wrestler to the next. “Never seen an Amazon before? Do my breasts make you uneasy? Do my muscles make you afraid? Very well, all you have to do is move me out of your stupid little circle. That's what you practice doing all day, isn't it? And I won't even use judo or jiujutsu to defend myself. I'll beat you using ballet.”
Finally, a wrestler stepped forward. He was about 6 feet tall, must've weighed 300 pounds, and wore the loincloth of a ranked sumo wrestler. As he plodded into the ring, he scattered salt, and stamped before walking to his starting line in the middle of the ring and crouching down. Lola sneered and spat on the mat, eliciting groans and gasps from the sumo wrestlers as she walked to her starting line, and crouched down, the thong and narrow back straps of her leotard looking no thicker than pieces of yarn as they stretched over her muscle-cobbled back and thick glutes. Jiro's face was twisted in anger as he blew his whistle, and the two opponents charged forward.
The wrestler threw himself onto Lola, clearly planning to either knock her over with his bulk or pick her up with his arms. His plan didn't work. Lola exploded forward with incredible speed, driving her shoulder into his stomach and forcing him up out of his crouch as he grunted in pain. While the wrestler was stunned from the force of the blow, Lola grabbed his arms, her tiny brown fingers curling around his fat white wrists, and forced his arms down and in by pressing his hands into his stomach near his navel. The huge wrestler strained to free his arms, pulling so hard that his triceps shook from effort, but Lola held fast, her biceps bulging with rocky hardness and her forearms blooming with veins. The huge wrestler struggled to drive forward, pushing so hard that his feet began to slip on the mat, but Lola held fast, her legs hardening into terrifyingly shredded columns of muscle from her glutes to her hamstrings to her calves. “Let me give you a little anatomy lesson,” Lola jeered. “Women are naturally built with broader hips than men. Our sweeping thighs and bulging buttocks aren't just beautiful, and they aren't just for bringing life into this world. Our wide hips also allow us to achieve mastery over balance and flexibility that no man could ever dream of. Observe.“
Lola bent her right knee and lifted her right foot off the ground, bearing the wrestler's charge with only her left leg as she stretched her right leg out behind her back and up into the air, until the toes on her right foot were pointing straight up to the ceiling, her body posed like a ballet dancer doing an Arabesque penche. The wrestler screamed and bore down, straining so hard that his face turned dark red, but still Lola held his arms tight to his body, and still Lola's left leg absorbed the force of his charge. The wrestler tried to drop his shoulder and to move from side to side, but Lola adapted instantly, turning her foot or bending her leg as needed to neutralize the gigantic wrestler's attack.
Finally the wrestler, now sweating and trembling, ran out of energy, his body going limp as he slumped forward. Lola's eyes narrowed into a predatory gaze and she lowered her right leg and released the sumo wrestler's arms, adopting the fifth position of ballet with an arrogant smirk on her face. The big man took a breath, then screamed again and lunged at Lola, who easily hopped out of his reach using a quick pas de chat jump, returning to the fifth position as his arms whooshed uselessly past her. The wrestler righted himself to avoid falling over, but as he did Lola hopped back in front of him, smirking. Then, to the amazement of the assembled wrestlers, Lola grabbed the fat man around his waist and raised him up into the air with an overhead lift. The wrestler's body flopped about, but Lola remained poised her feet in the first position, her flared back strong and stiff, and her powerful arms fully extended overhead. “So little stamina and so little body control,” she scoffed. “You could never survive in ballet. The ballerinas would humiliate you. Just like I'm about to do.”
Then Lola tossed the wrestler completely out of the ring, his immense body slamming onto the ground feet away as the nearby wrestlers gawked in amazement at his defeat. Jiro was fuming with anger, but Lola laughed and flexed her big sharply cut biceps as she walked around the ring, taunting the crestfallen wrestlers. “Is anyone in here brave enough and strong enough to challenge this little ballerina?” she demanded, waiting for a response as she kissed her biceps, one after the other.
Then the silence was broken. “I am,” Allison said firmly, kicking off her shoes.
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I love that it was Lola doing the dominating here, showing off both incredible skill and incredible power, doing an awe inspiring feat of strength by lifting a guy that probably weighed something like 350-450 pounds overhead like a ballerina being lifted by her partner, and tossing him around like nothing! I don't know if she was this strong during the WSM competition, but if it were contested now, I have no trouble believing Lola would win it. Now we can see if Allison could possibly be a third female capable of winning the WSM. I look forward to it! k+!
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Lola will love this easy win.
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So hot ,more of lola kicking ass please
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I know I'm a little late in the game here, but this is a fantastic story. Very well written with some awesomely powerful girls. Keep it going. Bigger is better in more ways than one. ;)
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Wow,love your stories also (wolflightning)
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Part 3, Chapter 43
Lola threw back her head and laughed, her hands resting on her bare muscle-wrapped hips, as Allison began to unbutton her skirt. “You?” Lola crowed. “Don't you remember how I humiliated you the last time we wrestled, Fleabites? Or maybe you remember it all to well? Maybe you enjoyed how I dominated you physically and humiliated you sexually? And you want me to do it again?”
“I've gotten a lot stronger since then,” Allison said. “And a lot better at fighting.”
Allison removed her skirt to reveal that she wasn't wearing any underwear, proudly displaying her beautiful pink labia and the frock of neatly trimmed red pubic hair that framed it. All the men in the room blanched with embarrassment at the sight of her perfect 18-year-old vulva, and the confidence with which she displayed it, as she began to unbutton her blouse. But I was looking at her legs. Allison always had perfectly shaped legs, like a 1950's pinup girl. But months of squats and lunges had packed them with muscle, so that their curvaceous outline was accentuated with bulging slabs of muscle. “Va-va-va-voom,” mom purred. “I just love when she shows off that tight little kitty of hers.”
“Just how many times have you seen that... little kitty?” Kylie asked mom, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, plenty of times,” mom said, winking at Kylie. “It's sweet as a peach, and just as juicy.”
“Live your best life, mom,” Kylie said, giving mom a high five as Dad grimaced in anger.
Allison removed her blouse to reveal that she wasn't wearing a bra, proudly letting her big creamy DDD tits bounce free as she shrugged out of the flouncy fabric. All the men stared hungrily at her firm young breasts and the pink areolae and thickening nipples that crowed them. But I was looking at her back. Allison always had a svelte and toned back, like a dancer. But months of deadlifts and pullups had made it broad and thick like a powerlifter, even as it tapered into her trim feminine waist, and her shoulders and triceps showed mass and hardness that most guys would envy.
As Allison tied up her hair and rocked back and forth on her heels, I tired to reconcile the curvy porn star body that she showed me on our first night together with the muscle-packed physique that was on display now. A few months ago, Allison was a gorgeous high school girl with the figure of a supermodel. Now she was a gorgeous high school girl with the figure of a supermodel and the muscles of an Olympia-caliber bodybuilder. But she still paled in comparison to the impressively buxom, impossibly muscular Latina tween that glared at her from across the sumo ring.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Fleabites?” Lola sneered as she traced her fingers along her honey-brown muscle swept-quads, up along her stony obliques and ribs, and up to the swelling EE cup breasts that spilled from her scandalous leotard. “After all, you are a decrepit old woman of 18 with tiny D cup breasts, and your scrawny little arms can't be any bigger than 15 inches around.”
“I'm stronger than I look,” Allison said coldly as she walked into the circle to meet Lola.
“So am I,” Lola cackled. “However frightened of me you are, you should be more so.”
“I'm not frightened of you, Lola,” Allison said dryly. “I just don't like you.”
For a second the two stood face to face. Then they lunged at each other like predatory animals, their sleek muscular bodies rippling with power. Lola seized the initiative, trapping the taller Allison in a Muay Thai clinch, and bending her down until their heads were even. Allison tried to escape the clinch by sweeping Lola's leg and by pushing on her jawbone, but the 12-year-old vixen was too agile and too powerful to be overcome by basic techniques, and no matter how Allison tried to escape or counter, Lola instantly adjusted her stance to retain control.
Unable to free herself from the clinch, Allison instead tried to utilize her reach advantage, throwing three quick uppercuts into Lola's muscle-etched ribs. Allison's punches were technically perfect, and I could see the power rippling in her lats and delts as she hammered at away at the young amazon. I shook my head as I remembered the last fight between Allison and Lola, and how Allison's punches bounced uselessly off Lola's rock-hard muscles, muscles that had grown noticeably bigger and harder. But to my surprise, Lola winced at the impact of Allison's blows, emitting a girly squeak with each blow. “You have indeed gotten stronger, Fleabites,” Lola said sourly. “I almost felt your little punches. But you should know that a woman's true strength is in her legs. Let me show you.”
Then Lola hopped into the air and drove a knee squarely into the center of Allison's eight-pack abs, her young body moving with such speed that I hardly saw what had happened. Allison grunted and buckled, but to my surprise she didn't cry out in pain, collapse to the ground, or allow herself to be pulled lower into the range of more knee strikes. Her core held tight, even as she moaned in pain.
Lola then bent Allison downward with all her might, her meaty lats swelling up with power and her triceps popping out like stacks of horseshoes, and launched a knee strike into Allison's chest. But Allison was ready, and crossed her arms, preventing Lola's knee from striking her body, although she whimpered at the force of blow. “Not a bad block, Fleabites,” Lola said sourly. “But tell me, how long do you think your skinny little arms will be able to protect you from my big powerful legs?”
As if to punctuate her taunt, Lola clenched her legs, causing her bulbous buttocks to ripple with scalloped striations, even as her hamstrings hardened into cables of muscle and her calves contracted into perfectly separated diamonds of muscle, twitching with power beneath her honey-brown skin. I felt a tingle run through my body, as I began to fear for Allison's life. There wasn't a speck of fat on Lola's legs to disguise the horrifying muscular power that they possessed, and I felt my stomach toss as she drove another knee strike into Allison's arms. And another. And another. “Oh my goodness,” mom said uneasily. “M-maybe we should break this up. Fun is fun, but someone might get hurt.”
“No,” Kylie said without a trace of emotion. “Let them fight. This is getting me hot.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I growled at Kylie. “Does everything get you hot, now?”
“Pretty much,” Kylie said, smirking. “I'm a growing girl, after all. I was bound to have a sexual awakening sooner or later. I just hope the world is ready.”
I was going to ask Kylie what she meant by that comment, but then another knee strike crashed into Allison's arms, and I began to feel queasy. “Had enough yet, old woman?” Lola taunted.
“You call yourself an amazon?” Allison snorted. “I've had men hit me harder than that.”
Lola face bent into a furious scowl. “How dare you!” she spat. “I'll kill you for that insult!”
With a yell, Lola leapt up into the air, her left knee hurtling toward Allison's head. It was just the opening that Allison had been waiting for. The second Lola left the ground, Allison twisted her body and leapt backward, as if she were diving into the wrestling mat. And that's exactly what she was doing. The two girls crashed onto the mat with Allison on top, in side control of the powerful young Latina, her forearm pushed under Lola's chin. Lola quickly grabbed Allison's free arm to prevent her from punching, and Allison responded by leaning down onto Lola's neck, using leverage to prevent her from lifting her shoulders to punch up or twist away. “Guess what?” Allison growled. “I got so sick of hearing you brag about your black belt in jujitsu, that I got one too. Now we're on equal ground.”
“You will never be my equal,” Lola roared, bucking her hips, her young body moving like a wave of rippling muscles that tossed Allison over four feet away, nearly out of of the ring.
“Oh goodness,” mom gasped. “How strong do you have to be to do something like that?”
“She should be stronger, actually,” Kylie said with a frown. “If she was following my program faithfully, she would've been able to throw Fleabites clear out of the ring, and the fight would be over."
Lola stood up and collected herself, brushing her hair from her eyes, and then jiggling her overdeveloped bosom with gusto as she adjusted her leotard. The wrestlers diverted their eyes from Lola's exhibition, cowed by the power and confidence that she radiated as she gloried in her muscular nubile body. “Okay Fleabites,” she said. “You have gotten my attention. How unlucky for you.”
With a roar, Lola leapt across the ring as Allison was rising to her knees, and they crashed into one another, both of them now glistening with sweat, every muscle in their bodies pumped and bristling with power. Lola forced Allison to the ground with ease, laying her on her right side and straddling her midsection as she controlled Allison's left arm. Allison squirmed, trapped between Lola's bare muscular legs as the young girl laughed at her struggles, and began to grind her crotch against the ridges or Allison's ribs and obliques. “Ooh,” Lola purred. “Your body feels so good against mine, Fleabites. I could get used to grinding on you. And of course, you cannot stop me, because my muscles are superior to yours. And of course, so are my tetas. Here, why don't you feel them?”
And with a cackle, Lola stretched out and smooshed her breasts into Allison's face, shaking them back and forth in the spirit of the sexual humiliation that she had promised. “I remember when I was your age,” Allison grunted. “And my boobs kept growing. They were so sensitive to touch.”
And with that Allison began to lick the bodice of Lola's leotard, her tongue moving with the speed of a hummingbird against the outline of Lola's right nipple. Lola gasped, and immediately her body began to slacken, her toes curling and her lips puckering. “W-what are you doing?” Lola panted.
“I'm feeling your tits, just like you asked me to,” Allison said slyly. “What's wrong? Don't you like it?"
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I know I'm a little late in the game here, but this is a fantastic story. Very well written with some awesomely powerful girls. Keep it going. Bigger is better in more ways than one. ;)
Thanks!
It's always nice to hear kind words from another writer.
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Another really nice chapter, I figured that Allison would have no chance against Lola, seeing how strong, fast, and agile she has shown to be, but Allison seems to have a strategy to at least weaken Lola a little, so yeah, really nice stuff, well written. I look forward to more! k+!
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I would worship the ground lola walked on.
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Waiting for Kylie to fight and beat up a big group of alpha muscle guys.😬
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Part 3, Chapter 44
Eyes widened in the sumo academy as Allison licked and Lola squirmed. Allison freed herself from Lola's vice-like thighs as the young amazon squirmed, and the second her lips left Lola's breast, the buxom Latina raised her fist to strike. But Allison moved like a flash and soon had Lola's breasts cupped in her hands, and began rolling Lola's nipples around like marbles between her fingers. Lola collapsed again, panting. “I'm going kill you...” Lola gasped. “The second you let go of my tetas....”
“Why would I let go of them?” Allison laughed. “Like you said, I can't compete with your muscles. And like you said, these are some superior tits. So I'll enjoy squeezing them until you beg me to stop.”
“I'll never... ooh... I'll never give you the... ooh... satisfaction,” Lola moaned.
“Humiliating you is all the satisfaction I need,” Allison said. “I could do this for hours.”
“Oh my goodness,” mom said. “I-I don't think I should be watching this. It's so indecent.”
“That's what makes it so hot,” Kylie said, unabashedly rubbing the crotch of her leather hotpants as her nipples hardened visibly under her leather vest. “I love when girls fight over me.”
“They're not fighting over you, Kylie,” I grumbled. “There's more to it than that.”
“No there isn't,” Kylie laughed. “This is all about me. It's always all about me.”
Finally Lola gasped and squealed, and her body went stiff on the mat, her toes curling as she panted curses and threats at Allison. Allison smiled and brushed a ginger lock of hair from her face as she rose to her feet. “Now to make my victory official,” she said, grabbing Lola's ankles.
Allison pulled upward on Lola's legs as she began to turn in a circle, and slowly Lola's body began to rise into the air, even as it continued to quake and shiver. Allison spun around twice, three times, then four, spinning faster with each rotation until finally she released Lola's ankles, flinging the musclebound tween out of the ring and across the room, where she crashed into a pile of dumbbells and barbells. “Oh my goodness,” mom gasped. “Someone call an ambulance!”
“She'll be fine,” Kylie said as she discreetly ran her eyes up and down Allison's body.
As if she knew she was being appraised, Allison raised her arms overhead in triumph, showing off her flaring lats, full breasts and shredded midsection. Then she bowed low to the assembled wrestlers, showing off her firm round breasts and presenting a tantalizing view of her labia to those standing behind her. The sumo wrestlers bowed in return, and applauded Allison for her victory over the brash young girl who had wantonly desecrated their ring and cruelly humiliated their champion.
“Sorry I brought my evil vagina into your sacred ring or whatever,” Allison said to Jiro as she stepped out of the ring, completely at ease in her nakedness. “But at least the fight's over, so you-”
“Nothing is over!” Lola growled, pushing her way out of the pile of weights as if they were twigs.
“See,” Kylie said to mom. “I told you she'd be fine.”
Allison's face registered shock, and she dropped into a fighting stance as Lola adjusted her leotard again, stuffing her breasts back into the neckline. “You filthy whore!” she growled at Allison, grabbing a nearby Olympic lifting bar. “I'll destroy you! Starting with that pretty face of yours!”
Lola twirled the 45 pound bar in her fingers like a martial artist twirling a staff, then raised it over her shoulder and ran toward Allison. Then she stopped dead in her tracks, as if the barbell was anchored to an immovable object. And in a way, it was. Standing over Lola's right shoulder, Kylie had grabbed the collar of the barbell as Lola rushed by, and now held it firmly in place. Lola pulled on the barbell, grunting and swearing, but was unable to pull it loose from Kylie's grip. “Let go!” Lola hissed.
“Just take the 'L',” Kylie said. “Nobody wins everything all the time. Except for me, of course.”
Lola screamed and pulled with all her might, digging her heels into the floor and leaning backward in an attempt to dislodge the barbell, but Kylie was unmovable, her massive arm showing no sign of strain as she flicked through her phone. “I'll never lose to her!” Lola yelled. “I'll kill her first!”
Kylie put her phone away, and placed her free hand on Lola's waist, pulling her close and releasing the barbell. Lola purred as Kylie ran her hand along the leg holes of the leotard, and she let the barbell fall to the floor. “You don't want to get blood on your white leotard, do you?” Kylie asked.
Lola drew closer to my massively muscled kid sister, running her hands along the portion of Kylie's lats that bulged out of the arm holes of her vest. “I know you love my white leotard.” Lola cooed
“I love the way the bottom is cut,” Kylie said, cupping Lola's jutting muscular buttocks. “I can see your thighs, your obliques, a little bit of your abs, and all of your ass.”
Lola pressed her cheek against Kylie's. “I know you love how my busto pops out,” she said.
“A medida que crecen tus tetas, amo más tu atuendo,” Kylie said, stroking Lola's hair with one hand as she pulled her closer with the other. “Ahora besémonos hasta chorros.”
“I don't speak Spanish, but that sounded like something sweet and romantic,” mom chirped.
“It was filthy,” dad muttered under his breath, as Lola draped her arms over Kylie's gargantuan shoulders, and they shared a kiss so long and deep that we all looked away out of embarrassment, except for Allison, who stood slump-shouldered, watching the lovers with a look of longing on her face.
We flew home that night. Kylie joined Lola on her flight to Miami, but not before she bought us tickets home. Mom and Allison got to fly in first class, but dad and I had to sit in coach, near the bathrooms. When we finally got home I collapsed into my bed, but Allison insisted on sleeping in Kylie's room. I slept well into the night, until Allison woke me up by stamping her foot on the floor. “This is bullshit!” she said, shoving her phone in my face. “Why do men always do shit like this?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked groggily.
“The President of the UFC says that Kylie can't fight for the UFC championship until the 3-way tie at the top of the heavyweight division is cleared. It will take like a whole year for all those fights!”
“I think he's right,” I mumbled. “He shouldn't give Kylie a title fight just because she wants it.”
“Um, how about because she obviously deserves it?” Allison snorted. “Because she's obviously the strongest, fastest, and most skilled fighter in mixed martial arts.”
“She's obviously on some kind of super steroids,” I said. “Or she's like... a robot or something.”
“Um no, Rick,” Allison said sternly. “She's been tested like a million times, and every doctor that examined her says that she's a perfectly normal young girl.”
“She's not normal,” I grumbled, getting frustrated. “She's a bulldozer with tits and blonde hair. Normal girls can't get that big or strong. Normal girls can't build any muscle at all! It's simple biology!”
“Um no again, Rick,” Allison said, handing me her phone. “I guess since you've been living in cave for the past couple of months, you didn't hear about all the new research into female muscle.”
I read aloud from the news article that Allison had pulled up on her phone. “Sparked by a desire to explain Ms. O'Reilly's unprecedented physical development,” I read out loud, grumbling as I scrolled past a picture of Kylie with her Mr. Olympia trophy, “researchers have discovered that pubescent girls possess a mixture of estrogen, testosterone, and hormonal growth factors that can lead to rapid muscular hypertrophy when supplemented with exogenous vitamins and-”
“You don't have to read the whole thing,” Allison said,“ snatching her phone back. “It says that girls can get super big when they're going through puberty if they eat right and lift heavy. Here, check out the videos that get uploaded to Kylie's girls-only fitness app.”
Allison gave me her phone, and played a video of a small girl who looked to be about 8 years old. She had long curly brown hair and two missing front teeth, and she was wearing a loose-fitting yellow blouse that billowed like a spring dress. She looked nervously at the camera until a woman's voice spoke in the background. “Sophie honey, what do you want to say to Kylie?” the voice asked.
“Hi Kylie!” the girl cried, exuding the energy of a starstruck child. “My name is Sophie and I'm 8 years old, and I lift heavy every day because I want to be just like you. Please let me train with you!”
“Sophie honey,” the woman said again, “show Kylie your muscles.”
I gasped in amazement as little 8-year-old Sophie raised her arm and pulled up her sleeve, revealing an arm as big around as mine, but lined with the deep muscle cuts of a contest-ready bodybuilder. She giggled innocently as she flexed her arm, watching with glee as a bicep the size of a cue ball sprang up, jostling with a bulging shoulder as her beefy tricep swelled against her thick lats. “This can't be real,” I said, swallowing dryly as little Sophie pumped her arm again and again, giggling.
“She's like, not even the biggest 8-year old girl out there,” Allison said. “I just like her blouse.”
I looked at the other videos queued up on Allison's phone. One thumbnail after another of little girls with big muscles, all of them smiling with pride at their bulging sculpted physiques, posted to Kylie's girls-only fitness app from every corner of the globe. “This can't be real,” I said again.
“Don't feel bad little Ricky,” Allison said with a laugh. “I promise that when women rule the world, we'll be nice. As long as you know your place, that is. Now get out of bed. Kylie is going to be on the Late Night show, and I want to see what she's wearing. I bet it's super sexy.”
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Really like this latest chapter, especially the end, I absolutely love the idea that across the globe, girls of all ages are following Kylie's example and building muscles and strength well beyond normal, I personally would love to see this explored in detail, I really wonder how strong the 8 year old Sophie is? And if she is not the biggest 8 year old girl out there, who is? I know that is probably not going to be a major theme, but it's still fascinating to me that little girls are becoming bigger and stronger on a pretty much global scale. I look forward to more! k+!
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Yes i agree, it would be intersting to see how little sophie uses those amazing muscles.
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I am getting flashbacks from The Spell plot by Marknew
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Part 3, Chapter 45
“Why is Kylie going on the Late Night Show?' I asked skeptically. “She doesn't care about TV.”
“Who knows?” Allison said with a shrug. “Maybe she just wanted to meet Princess Honey? She's also going to be on the Late Night Show tonight, and she's everybody's favorite celebrity.”
I had been avoiding all forms of media for weeks, but I couldn't resist a chance to feast my eyes on Princess Honey. When her first music video dropped 5 years ago, every guy around the world took notice. She had the toned legs of a dancer, the bulging butt of a gymnast, the slinky core of a belly dancer, and the voluptuous breasts of a porn star. And all those body parts were covered in perfect cocoa-brown skin, and topped off with an exotically beautiful face that seemed to combine the most attractive attributes from her mixed-race gene pool.
Now Princess Honey was the most famous woman in the world, giving dance lessons to the daughters of oil sheikhs and giving workout tips to first ladies. I watched her performance, hypnotized by the way her big round tits bounced and jiggled beneath a flimsy white silk dress that wrapped around her curvaceous body, as seductive in what it concealed as in what it revealed.
After her song, Princess Honey laughed and joked with Danny Doyle, the host of the Late Night Show. I stared at Princess Honey's silky brown legs, slender and feminine, as they shone in the stage lights, bare up to the thigh in her daringly vented dress, until the commercial break. “My next guest is the most talked-about athlete in the world,” Danny said when the show came back on. “She redefined the role of women in sports when she won the Mr. Olympia and the World's Strongest Man contest, and now she wants the UFC heavyweight championship. Please help me welcome Kylie O'Reilly.”
The crowd erupted with cheers as Kylie walked on stage, smiling and waving, wearing black stiletto heels with her hair up in a pile of golden blonde tresses. And to call her little black dress scandalous would be an understatement. It was basically a twisted pretzel monokini with a few strips of fabric hanging from the waist to approximate a skirt, and it exposed nearly every inch of the golden brown skin that covered Kylie's improbably busty and impossibly muscular body. The dress was made from a fabric that I didn't recognize that was clingy and shimmering, and did an admirable job of staying place as Kylie strutted across stage, the top clinging precariously to her gigantic jiggling breasts, the skirt giving quick glimpses of her titanic thighs and enormous buttocks.
As Kylie reached out to take Danny Doyle's hand the muscles in her shoulders and triceps sprung to life, bulging out as big as an American football, stretching and contracting beneath her golden-brown paper-thin skin. Her lats were as thick as bread loaves, and they jostled against her muscle-swollen rear delts and shredded ribs, all of which were made visible by her scandalously brief top. Wolf whistles and cheers filled the air as Kylie turned her back to the camera and hit a rear double biceps pose, her thick muscle-knotted back erupting from her tiny waist, her deltoids showing segments and striations unseen outside of comic book illustrations, and her cantaloupe-sized biceps rising from her massive arms like boulders. Her back was completely bare thanks to the pretzel monokini top, and her lower body was hardly covered, with only a square of shimmering black fabric the size of a comic book draped over her massive muscular butt, completely exposing the deep dimples where her glutes met her thighs, and the shelf of tanned toned meat where her glutes bulged out above her hamstrings. The view from the front must have been just as impressive, because Princess Honey's jaw dropped open as she gawked in amazement, her hands clasped to her chest and her eyes as wide as saucers. “Holy cow!” Danny Doyle said to Kylie. “I think we're going to have to blur out everything from the neck down.”
Princess Honey fanned herself with her hands, blushing and laughing as Kylie sat down next to her. “You don't like my dress?” Kylie asked him with a giggle, her blue eyes flashing playfully.
“I don't argue with girls who might be able to bench press my car,” Danny quipped.
“I can definitely bench press your car,” Kylie said, crossing her legs demurely, her right calf bulging our as wide as a volleyball as she draped it over her left knee, the golden brown skin of her smooth bare legs glistening in the light as muscles the size of pythons squirmed in her thighs.
Danny was getting ready to continue his banter when Princess Honey barged into the conversation. “Girl, how big are your arms?” she asked, gawking at Kylie's body. “Or your legs?”
“I haven't measured my muscles in a few weeks.” she said. “There's really no point, since I keep getting bigger. But maybe you can help me out with that later on, if you think you can handle it.”
“Wait, did you say that you're getting bigger?” Danny Doyle asked, dumbfounded.
“What can I say? I'm a growing girl,” Kylie said, flashing a brilliant smile of perfect white teeth as she raised her right arm in a bicep flex that made all the women in the crowd howl with delight.
Princess Honey must have been delighted as well, because she leaned over and wrapped her hands around Kylie's arm―or at least as much of Kylie's arm as she could fit her hands around. “Your so... big!” she exclaimed. “My husband is a football player, and you make him seem like a little boy.”
“Please don't grope the guests, Princess Honey,” Danny quipped.
Princess Honey was undeterred. “No wonder nobody wants to fight you,” she mused as she ran her hands over the contours of Kylie's gigantic arm, squealing with delight.
“That's actually what I wanted to talk about,” Danny said. “Kylie, we all know that you want to fight for the UFC heavyweight title. And you told me backstage that you have some news.”
“The UFC keeps saying that I can't fight for the heavyweight championship because there's a three-way tie at the top of the heavyweight division,” Kylie said. “Then they told me that if I kept causing trouble they would kick me out of the UFC. So I made one last offer. I told them that I would retire from the UFC forever, as long as they gave me one last fight. A fight against all three champions at once, to unify the title.
The crowd murmured. “And did they accept?” Danny asked.
“They added one more stipulation,” Kylie said. “They insisted that I fight with one arm tied behind my back and a blindfold over my eyes.”
“That seems highly irregular,” Danny said.
“They were just trying to make me back down,” Kylie said. “But I didn't. I never back down.”
“You accepted?” Danny asked. “You're fighting the three best heavyweight mixed martial artists in the world at once, with one arm tied behind your back and a blindfold over your eyes?”
“That's correct,” Kylie said with a cocky smirk. “And I'm going to win, too.”
“How can you fight blindfolded?” Danny asked. “Do you have super-hearing or something?”
“No,” Kylie said with a shrug. “But I don't see the bugs that I step on, and I always crush them anyway. This fight is no different. These guys are just like bugs to me, and I'm going to crush them.”
“I love that confidence,” Princess Honey cooed. “I'll bet you can crush anyone with those legs.”
“Yes I can,” Kylie said, extending her right leg, and twisting her tiny foot so that her gigantic calf contracted into a boulder of chiseled muscle that swelled off her slim girlish ankle like a cherry on a toothpick, and the muscles in her thigh churned and rippled beneath her shining golden-brown skin.
“Please,” Danny joked. “If you show any more skin, we're going to lose our license.”
“To hell with your license, I want to see more!” Princess Honey said, and the crowd laughed.
“Well why don't you folks at home enjoy a commercial break,” Danny Doyle said, turning to the camera. “We're going to throw a bucket of cold water on Princess Honey, and be right back."
As the Late Night show went to commercials, Allison collapsed into the couch. “Fuck,” she said. “Did you see those legs? I would give anything to have legs like that.”
“No guy on earth would touch you,” I grumbled.
“Why would I care? If I had legs like that, I would have Princess Honey running her hands up and down my body.” Allison sighed. “Her fingertips tickling every inch of my skin... her lips kissing me all over... God I would give everything I own to be in the room when her and Kylie fuck.”
“They're not going to... be romantic,” I said, repulsed by the idea of my little sister engaged in a sexual act. “Princess Honey's spent the past 5 years writing songs about how much she loves dick. Besides, she's married to that football player Big Jon Jackson, and he just did an interview on the Guy Talk podcast where he said she wouldn't have a three way because she thinks girls are gross.”
Allison laughed. “That was before she met Kylie,” she said, taking the remote control and rewinding the show to the point where Kylie was flexing her bicep, and her eyes met those of Princess Honey. “Just look at that sexual tension,” she said. “They are so totally going to fuck.”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the ravenous glances that my 13-year-old sister was exchanging with the world's most famous pop star. “No way,” I said. “Just... no way.”
“Face it, Rick,” Allison said with a laugh. "Your little sister is going to fuck Princess Honey. Not only that, but Princess Honey is going to beg for it.”
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Excellent new chapter. Kylie continues to be hot as fire. Please keep up the good work.
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I just continue to wonder what is it about Kylie that turns straight women into lesbians for her? I mean, sure she's more muscular than any man, but she's also incredibly feminine, busty, and pretty. Is it her confidence as well as her muscles that make her irresistible? It seems to happen everywhere, women just can't get enough of her, it's almost unfair, but yeah, if that's your thing, go for it. I'm a straight guy and I find it almost kind of insane, Kylie's ability to turn straight women gay instantly. Maybe I'm taking that part too seriously and should just have fun with it. Whatever, the part I'm looking forward to is Kylie vs. the three UFC fighters, even with the handicaps they placed on her, I don't see her losing. In fact, that's the kind of thing I would like to see more of, Kylie just challenging other sports champions in their own sport and handicapping herself, still beating them. k+!
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Honestly, the fact that Kylie and Lola are always wearing such revealing clothes is a bit turn off for me. Sure, they say that like Amazons they can do anything, but it makes it look like they need to wear slutty clothes to attract attention. But they don't need it, IMHO.
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Looking forward to the beating and verbal humiliation the 3 champions get . Plz make Kylie more cocky in her fights. Also, I like the idea of Kylie taking up different sports n beating them at their game.
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what a fantastic idea!!!
I am waiting for the moment Rick began to want her sister's body... it's impossibile for him to resist to her, he must fall in love with her!!!
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I myself would fall in love with the mom,i would do anything for that woman,her dad should is a lucky man
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Lots of opinions here that I agree with to some extent, but grbaclig can write whatever the heck he wants as long as he gives us more Kylie pumping up her muscles, showing off her muscles, and dominating everyone around her with her muscles.
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This story is ridiculous in all the right ways.
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Part 3, Chapter 46
“No no no,” I said, shaking my head.
“It's simple logic,” Allison said, holding up three fingers. “Fact number one, Kylie likes girls. Fact number two, anyone who likes girl wants to fuck Princess Honey. Fact number three, Kylie always gets what she wants. Why are you having a such a hard time with this?”
Tears welled in my eyes as years of bottled up emotions spilled out. “Because I'm sick and tired of Kylie,” I whined. “My whole life, shes been this perfect little.... bitch! It's not enough that she's big and strong, she's also bigger than Ty Tate and stronger than Bill Booker. And it's not enough that she's pretty, she also has a perfect tan and perfect hair and giant tits. It's like she's activated cheat codes for life or something, and everything is super easy for her, and I just have to stand in her shadow and listen to everybody talk about how great she is, like I don't even matter.”
Allison took my hand and looked at me with soft, sympathetic eyes. “Rick, I-” she began.
But the floodgates of my heart were open, and there was no holding back now. “And she's been bullying me for years, really hurting me sometimes, and everyone just says 'ooh Kylie is so perfect, who even cares about Rick?' Even when she's not picking on me, she's always showing off by flexing her muscles or spending a lot of money. And... she made you stop caring about me.”
Allison sat up with a start at my last comment. “Rick...” she said. “I've learned a lot about myself recently. And I'm way more into girls than I am into guys. You're a great guy, but...”
“But you love Kylie, not me,” I sobbed. “She doesn't even know your name, and you worship the ground that she walks on. She can have you whenever she wants you. You don't care that she's a bully, and a bitch, or that she's only 13. And now she can have Princess Honey, too. It isn't fair.”
Allison put her arm around me and pulled me close as I cried. The warmth that I felt now was the first genuine connection that I had ever felt with her, and that made me cry even harder. “Rick, I'm sorry,” she said. “But I can't control how I feel about Kylie. When I'm around her, my entire body just feels... electric. And when I'm not around her, she's all I can think about or talk about. Once I even had an orgasm in the middle of the supermarket, just because I looked a picture of her abs on her Insta. I didn't even have to touch myself, I just... went off. It was the hardest I've cum in years, just by looking at a picture of her.”
“This isn't helping,” I whined.
But Allison kept going. “My panties were soaked. I was still tingling when I checked out, and even when I drove home. I think it was the underboob she was showing, as much as it was her abs.”
“This isn't helping me at all when you talk like that,” I pleaded.
“I'm sorry,” Allison said. “I told you I can't stop myself. I'm just in awe of Kylie. She's strong enough to protect me from anyone or anything, she's super famous, and my God her ass is like... boom!”
“This still isn't helping,” I sobbed.
“Rick,” Allison said, stroking my hair. “Your just going to have to accept that your little sister is, like, the alpha human. That doesn't mean that you're not great, because you totally are, and it doesn't mean that you can't get an awesome girlfriend, because you totally can.”
“Unless Kylie takes her away,” I moped. “Because everyone lets her do anything she wants, even if I get hurt. At this point, my only hope is that Superman throws her into the sun or something.”
Allison stroked my shoulders. “Superman only fights criminals and villains or whatever,” Allison said. “And Kylie's totally a force for good. Besides, I saw Superman on the news yesterday, and he said that he totally supports Kylie, because he thinks women and men should be treated as equals.”
“Of course he supports Kylie,” I sighed. “Everyone supports Kylie.”
The fight with the UFC Heavyweight Title Fight was months away, but already Kylie's social media blitz was unrelenting. She was uploading videos to Insta**** and TikTok nearly every day, showing off her muscles and bragging about her strength. I tried to ignore the videos as Allison played them, one after another, but they were so well made that they were completely engrossing. “I think she got some Hollywood director to do these for her,” Allison mused as she stared at the screen with puppy-dog eyes. “Mary Moody, the lady who won the Best Director Oscar last year. She must've cost a fortune, but it was worth every penny. Kylie looks... amazing.”
The first video was in black and white, and Kylie cranking out one picture perfect pull-up after another, as her voiceover talked about her training regimen. She wore a halter-style leotard that left her back completely bare to show off her mountainous shoulders, sprawling back, and trim waistline. Her hair was pulled up in pigtails, and the girlishness of her hairstyle contrasted with the hulking trapezius muscles that pumped a few inches below it, which had the size and shape of a knight's shield, but were much much thicker. Around her waist Kylie wore a chain thick enough to tow a bulldozer, from which dangled a slew of 45-pound plates, more weight than I could ever move even on a leg press. After about 20 pull-ups the video faded to shot of Kylie standing with her back to the camera, still in the backless leotard, shrugging her massive shoulders as knots of muscle churned on her back. Slowly she turned toward the camera, her beautiful face and piercing eyes radiating an unnerving confidence. “I get better every day,” her voiceover said. “Bigger, stronger, faster.”
The second video was in color, and was more informal and natural, like an Insta**** story. It appeared to just be film of the deep end of an expensive swimming pool, with nothing visible but sparkling blue water and the mosaic tiles of the pool deck which were marked with an inlay reading '8 ft', and some palm trees in the background. After a second or two of birds chirping and water shimmering, a dark shape began to move under the water. Then the surface of the pool heaved as a head of golden blonde hair broke through the water, and the video slowed down so that we could see, with crystal clarity, Kylie erupting out of the water as if she had been shot out of a rocket. Kylie arced her back and raised her arms as she rose into the air, her blonde hair whipping back, her wet skin shining like polished bronze in the sunlight, a white bikini clinging to her body. As water droplets fell back to the pool in slow motion, Kylie landed gracefully on the balls of her feet, a smile on her face as her enormous legs rippled powerfully. Then suddenly the film returned to normal speed as Kylie flashed a peace sign and puckered her lips. “Did you see that?” Allison giggled gleefully. “She just jumped out of the deep end of a swimming pool. Like way out of it. She was like a foot in the air!”
The next video began with Kylie giving the peace sign while standing beside a thick tree trunk in the middle of an idyllic green field, with exotic temples and vine-covered ruins visible in the distance. She was wearing soccer shorts and a tank top, both of which bore her logo of the Venus mirror with a muscular woman inside, and both of which struggled to contain her ridiculously overdeveloped body. Then Kylie rolled her hips and swung a roundhouse kick into the tree trunk, showing incredible speed and perfect form as she held her balance and rolled her hips. The tree shook visibly as Kylie's massive leg crashed into it, and then again and again as she bombarded the tree with a volley of kicks, transitioning from side kicks to turning kicks to roundhouse kicks to knee strikes with unbroken fluidity. The air was filled with leaves and chunks of bark as Kylie's assault continued, a look of grim determination on her face as the massive tree trunk rocked back and forth in the soil, being uprooted little by little by the force of my kid sister's thunderous kicks. Kylie finally stopped after about a minute, her perfect hair and shallow breathing giving no indication of the tremendous amount of force that she had unleashed on the tree, which was now covered in bare patches and leaning heavily. Then Kylie shot a push kick directly into the tree trunk. The video slowed down, showing every muscle in Kylie's massive thigh hardening as she extended her leg in a kick so fast that it blurred even in slow motion, her steely with focus and her hair perfect. As soon as Kylie's heel struck the tree trunk, it exploded like a firecracker, sending shards of wood in every direction as it fell. The massive trunk fell toward Kylie, but she didn't move a single inch. Instead she looked straight at the camera and flashed a peace sign, unflinching as the gigantic slab of wood crashed to the earth mere inches away from her. “Remember girls, never skip leg day,” Kylie said, clamping her legs together so that her vastus and femoris muscles hardened into deeply carved slabs of muscle.”
I stared in silence at the screen as it reverted to the thumbnail, which showed Kylie in the middle of a turn kick, her bulging butt and muscle-packed hamstring facing the screen as her tiny foot splintered the tree trunk. “Well?” Allison jeered. “Aren't you going to say something? Maybe say that the video is fake, or that no girl is strong enough to kick over a tree?”
I said nothing. I was beyond the point of skepticism. I had held on to my macho notions of male superiority as long as I could, hoping that one day my bratty little sister would reach the limit of her physical abilities, but Kylie had crushed that hope time and time again. Every day she got bigger, every day she got stronger, and every day she rubbed my face in her greatness. At this point, the only surprise in that video was that Kylie needed more than one kick to bring down the tree.
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This story is ridiculous in all the right ways.
It is totally ridiculous. I ramped Kylie up super quick, so now the only way I can finish the story out is to go over the top. But that should at least make for a few more entertaining chapters.
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Now that it's been established the story takes place in a shared world with Superman, I hope he comes into play somehow ... As another tool to show how dominant Kylie is
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Another really good chapter, I like that Rick is pretty much accepting Kylie's superiority, at least at the end, he didn't really say anything about Kylie. But yeah, really cool stuff with Kylie showing off. I personally would love it if you did more with other girls showing off how Kylie has changed their lives like you did a couple of chapters ago with Sophie. That would be really cool. Also, really interesting to see Superman exist in this universe, like Weaponzero said, that may set up something in the future, but I hope not too soon. So yeah, looking forward to the next chapter! k+!
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Poor, poor Rick. I feel for the guy, but it seems as if no women can resist Kylie's dominance and sex appeal and no men can accept it without being mercilessly put in their place. I love this story and how ridiculously overwhelming you've made Kylie. It's a super fun and hot fantasyland to get lost in.
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Part 3, Chapter 47
It was March now, and because it was International Women's month, Kylie was offering free personal training sessions to women at the renovated cathedral that she now called home. Allison was hopping up and down with excitement as she showed me photos of the event on her phone. “Check it out,” she said, zooming in on a line of women that stretched from Kylie's front gate all the way down the street. “Women of all ages from all over the world have been lining up since February. Hotels are full for like 100 miles, all with women who want a chance to work out with Kylie.”
“100 miles?” I asked. “How many women can she possibly train in a month?”
“Oh only like 1% of them will get in,” Allison said. “But thousands of women came just on the chance that they might get lucky, even though the odds are like a million to one. Isn't that cool!?”
“Yeah great,” I grumbled sarcastically. “I can totally see why you're so excited to wait in line.”
“For your information,” Allison said smugly, “we got special passes to go see Kylie today.”
“What do you mean 'we'?” I asked, just as my mom came down the stairs, her salt-and-pepper hair up in a beehive, her eyes twinkling behind her horned-rim glasses, and her huge breasts jiggling in a skin-tight lime green cashmere sweater, and dad slouching behind her.
“Oh I'm so excited!” she said. “I finally get to see Kylie's house. It looks so nice in the photos.”
Nice was an understatement. As our limo pulled near to Kylie's house, we all gawked at its majesty. The last time I saw the old cathedral it was rundown and crumbling, in a pockmarked lot covered with weeds. But now it was gleaming in the sun, its white marble facade punctuated with clear glass and gold trim, and sitting on a manicured estate dotted with smaller buildings. As two female security guards the size of male rugby players waved the limo through a gilded gate, we marveled at the beauty of Kylie's new estate, and the beauty of the fit young women that pranced about engaging in various athletic activities. “This place looks like heaven,” Allison sighed.
Soon we were ushered into the sprawling foyer of Kylie's house, which gleamed with polished white marble and gold fixtures, and was lined with shelves displaying the multitude of trophies and awards that she had won over the years. “This isn't a house,” mom mused. “It's a palace.”
“It totally is,” Allison agreed. “She calls it the Palace of Pump. Isn't that hot?”
On the top floor of the palace was Kylie's room, a loft with a domed glass ceiling, filled with gold fixtures and and super soft white upholstery. On a chaise lounge in the sun, Kylie reclined in a flowing white chiffon robe that fastened around her shoulder with a gold broach, its flimsy folds spilling over her exaggerated curves as she curled a massive dumbbell in her left hand. “Oh, hey,” Kylie said, casually rising and setting her dumbbell next to its twin at the foot of the chaise.
“This place is amazing!” Allison said excitedly as she ran around the room, inspecting it.
“Forget the furniture,” mom said as she approached the dumbbells, “I love these weights.”
“Careful with those, mom,” Kylie said as mom struggled to raise the dumbbells even an inch.
“They look like 150 pounders, but I can't lift them,” mom groaned. “I must be getting soft.”
“Maybe,” Kylie smirked. “Or maybe it's because those dumbbells weighs 500 pounds. All my dumbbells are made of osmium, which is 3 times as dense as iron. That way I can get a decent pump while using the full range of motion in my joints, which is the whole point of using dumbbells in the first place, and which I can't do if I have to deal with huge blocks of iron obstructing my eccentric motion.”
“You curl 500 pounds with one arm?” Allison gawked.
“Only when I'm cooling down after a serious workout,” Kylie said, tossing her golden tresses.
I was trying to wrap my head around what Kylie had just said, and use my own cooldown sets to calculate what she meant by 'a serious workout', when Princess Honey stormed in from a staircase on the other side of the room. “OK Kylie,” she said, gasping for air. “That's another session complete. I've pumped more iron this week than in the rest of my life combined. Now keep your promise.”
Princess Honey was dressed in a workout kit from Kylie's apparel line, the pink spandex showcasing her lean yet curvaceous dancer's body, which gleamed with sweat and displayed the athletic femininity that she was famous for. But despite her obvious physical strength, she looked desperate and manic, a far cry from the confident pop diva that rebuffed advances from movie stars and tycoons. Kylie looked her up and down, smiling. “I don't think you're ready,” she said.
Princess Honey ran to Kylie as if we were invisible, with tears in her eyes. “Please Kylie,” she begged. “I've been here three days, and you just keep teasing me. You walk around in skimpy clothes, flexing your muscles, posturing provocatively over dinner. I can't stand it anymore. You promised that I could measure your muscles, and... touch your body... touch your big hard muscles.”
Kylie puckered as if she was deep in thought. “Well, okay,” she said easily. “Here you go.”
Then Kylie unhooked the brooch on her shoulder and let her white gown fall to the floor. Beneath its fluttering folds she was wearing a thin gold chain around her hips, resting on her pubic bone. From the front of the chain hung a white silk loincloth, embroidered with gold trim and barely three inches wide, so that it covered Kylie's groin but almost nothing else. Kylie's M cup breasts were supported by a halter of gold chains and white silk that hung from her neck, cradling her enormous tits like a sling while leaving her back completely bare. Princess Honey whimpered and fell to her knees. “I think I'm going to fucking faint,” Allison gasped as she grabbed my arm for support
“I like this dress because you can really see my back,” Kylie said, twirling around to hit a rear double biceps pose that made us gasp with awe as her muscles swelled into perfect definition under her golden brown skin, her dorsal side bare except for the thin golden chain slung across her hips.
“Oh goodness Kylie,” mom said. “In that outfit I can kind of see your... your... you know.”
“I know,” Kylie said. “I want you to see it. I'm proud of being a woman. So how does it look?”
“It's perfect,” Allison said, smiling as a tear rolled down her cheek. “It's too beautiful for words.”
Then Allison fainted, her body collapsing suddenly against mine, a smile on her face and her nipples rock hard as the dug into my chest while I struggled with the weight of her now-muscular body. Princess Honey fared a little better, still conscious as she slumped against Kylie's left leg. She gasped for breath as she ran her trembling hands up and down Kylie's leg, planting kisses on the bulging column of muscle that was Kylie's hamstring, until she fainted away like Allison had before her. “I love when that happens,” Kylie giggled mischievously. “But now who's going to oil up and measure my muscles? Hey I have an idea... Rick, why don't you grab that coconut oil and that measuring tape?”
“No way,” I said as Kylie's icy blue eyes sparkled with malevolence “No way in hell.”
“Richard,” mom said sternly, “be a good brother and help your little sister out with her muscles.”
“But mom,” I whined, “Kylie's trying to emasculate me with her muscles. She's being a bully.”
“Help your sister or else,” mom scolded as she flexed her bicep, a mountain of muscle rising from her slender arm and stretching her green cashmere sweater until I was sure it was going to split.
“But mom,” I whined, causing mom to frown and flex her other bicep.
“Richard,” she chided, her eyes narrow with anger behind her horn-rimmed glasses, and her sweater stretching tight like spandex as her muscles swelled beneath it. “If you're not rubbing oil on your little sister's muscles by the time I count to 3, you're going to get a serious bruising. 1, 2...”
I shamefully picked up the tube of coconut oil and slumped over to Kylie, who was smirking as she admired her abs in one of the several mirrors that filled her bedroom. “You can start with my toes and work your way up,” she said. “And be thorough. This body demands perfection in all things.”
I grumbled as I dropped down on my knees, and tried not to look at Kylie's body as I began this most recent round of humiliation. Kylie's feet and ankles were a small and soft as you would expect from a 13 year old girl, and it only took a few seconds to cover them with the slick sweet-smelling oil. I was starting to think that I might get through this ordeal without being shamed by Kylie's muscularity, when my hands encountered the giant mass of Kylie's calves, jutting out from her ankles as big as volleyballs, but shaped like diamonds. “You're going to need both hands for each one of my calves,” Kylie snorted. “In case you haven't noticed, I have the biggest muscles in the world, by far.”
I grimaced as I put both my hands on Kylie's left calf, and couldn't help but notice that not only was it shaped like a diamond, it was as hard as one. Beneath her golden brown youthful skin, there was absolutely no give in the double-headed block of muscle. It was solid as steel from the bottom, where it hung over her Achilles tendon like a shelf, to the top, where it tapered into her small girlish knee. I worked quickly and silently as I oiled her left calf and then her right, before moving on to her massive thighs, and I was starting to think that I might get through this ordeal with a minimum of humiliation. Then Kylie piped up with another suggestion. “You know what Rick?” she asked playfully, “I think you should talk about my muscles. You know, tell me how big and strong they are.”
“You have to be kidding,” I moaned, but I knew that she wasn't.
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Poor, poor Rick. I feel for the guy, but it seems as if no women can resist Kylie's dominance and sex appeal and no men can accept it without being mercilessly put in their place. I love this story and how ridiculously overwhelming you've made Kylie. It's a super fun and hot fantasyland to get lost in.
Thanks!
I went all in with the satire on this one. I wasn't sure about making Kylie so cartoonishly dominant and bold, but it's been fun to write, and I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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Another really good chapter, I like that Rick is pretty much accepting Kylie's superiority, at least at the end, he didn't really say anything about Kylie. But yeah, really cool stuff with Kylie showing off. I personally would love it if you did more with other girls showing off how Kylie has changed their lives like you did a couple of chapters ago with Sophie. That would be really cool. Also, really interesting to see Superman exist in this universe, like Weaponzero said, that may set up something in the future, but I hope not too soon. So yeah, looking forward to the next chapter! k+!
Thanks!
It's hard trying to keep track of all the things going on in this story, and it's gotten unfocused at times. I'm not sure how much more time I'm going to devote to subplots like Kylie's mom or the way that Kylie is changing the world. Maybe I should stretch this into 4 parts?
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It's cool, I have been thinking of doing a sort of side story concerning the girls she has inspired and educated through her videos on Insta****. As far as this chapter, it was pretty short but sweet, I enjoyed the idea that Kylie would take women in first hand in order to make them stronger and more muscular, in short order, even if she gets to train 100 women, there would be a sort of domino effect, those women will train more women, because now they would know the techniques that Kylie taught them. The Princess Honey stuff was nice, I look forward to her perhaps overpowering her husband on TV. Anyway, good stuff, I look forward to more. k+!
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Seeing Rick keep getting the short end of the stick in every possible situation and just not get a break is starting to make the story somewhat hard to keep following lol. I mean, he has to get a break somehow, right?
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Well, Kylie is letting him rub oil all over her unbelievable body. The lucky son of bitch...
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I love the direction this is going.
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Then Kylie piped up with another suggestion. “You know what Rick?” she asked playfully, “I think you should talk about my muscles. You know, tell me how big and strong they are.”
Is this a first? I don't think it happens often in stories, and if it does, not nearly enough times... I'm champing at the bit for the next part.
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Another really good chapter, I like that Rick is pretty much accepting Kylie's superiority, at least at the end, he didn't really say anything about Kylie. But yeah, really cool stuff with Kylie showing off. I personally would love it if you did more with other girls showing off how Kylie has changed their lives like you did a couple of chapters ago with Sophie. That would be really cool. Also, really interesting to see Superman exist in this universe, like Weaponzero said, that may set up something in the future, but I hope not too soon. So yeah, looking forward to the next chapter! k+!
Thanks!
It's hard trying to keep track of all the things going on in this story, and it's gotten unfocused at times. I'm not sure how much more time I'm going to devote to subplots like Kylie's mom or the way that Kylie is changing the world. Maybe I should stretch this into 4 parts?
It occurs to me that Rick is now doing something that apparently thousands in relatively close proximity would kill to do. I wonder how jealous they will get....
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Another really good chapter, I like that Rick is pretty much accepting Kylie's superiority, at least at the end, he didn't really say anything about Kylie. But yeah, really cool stuff with Kylie showing off. I personally would love it if you did more with other girls showing off how Kylie has changed their lives like you did a couple of chapters ago with Sophie. That would be really cool. Also, really interesting to see Superman exist in this universe, like Weaponzero said, that may set up something in the future, but I hope not too soon. So yeah, looking forward to the next chapter! k+!
Thanks!
It's hard trying to keep track of all the things going on in this story, and it's gotten unfocused at times. I'm not sure how much more time I'm going to devote to subplots like Kylie's mom or the way that Kylie is changing the world. Maybe I should stretch this into 4 parts?
I feel like focusing more on the subplots and the way the world is changing would be a bad idea. The novelty of Kylie and her Entourage being as strong as they are would be lost if the world became a place where superhuman women became commonplace. The story should remain focused on Kylie IMO.
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Part 3, Chapter 48
“That's a super idea,” mom said. “It's important for young girls to feel good about their looks.”
“Mom, Kylie doesn't need any more ego boosts,” I sighed.
“Less talk about my ego and more talk about my legs,” Kylie said, snapping her fingers. “Now!”
As I ran my oily hands up and down Kylie's right thigh, I tried to think of what an egomaniacal teenaged girl obsessed with her muscles would like to hear. “Your quads are huge and ripped,” I said.
“I already know that,” Kylie said impatiently. “Say something that reflects how much they cause. I want to hear how my muscles make you feel. Let me give you a little inspiration.”
Pointing the toes of her right foot, Kylie flexed her quad, making it erupt into lumps of thick striated muscle that made me recoil in fear. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “The muscles in your leg look like one of those suspension bridge cables that are made up of smaller cables braided together. Just a bunch of thick knots of muscle as hard as steel twisting against one another every time you move your leg even just a little. And your hamstring is just plain freaky. It's bigger than my thigh!”
“That's better,” Kylie said. “But don't think I haven't noticed that you've been avoiding my butt.”
My face reddened with embarrassment as I crawled behind my kid sister, and began to rub oil onto her backside. Each of Kylie's muscle-packed buttocks was as big and round as a basketball, and they popped out dramatically from between her beefy hamstrings and her waspishly thin waist in a way that accentuated her already outlandish curves. Kylie's butt was so big that I had to refill my hands with oil twice just to cover it. I guess I was quiet for too long, because Kylie started huffing and puffing. “Why aren't you telling me how awesome my butt is, Rick?” she asked impatiently.
Then she began to flex her glutes, one after another, the huge meaty orbs of muscle hardening into striated blocks, the dimples formed by her gluteus medius muscles contracting into deep gouges. One after another Kylie's buttocks contracted and relaxed, moving with such force that I was afraid to get near them. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “Your ass is like some kind of muscle-powered piston engine. No wonder you can push flatbed trucks through the sand and jump out of swimming pools.”
“That's nothing,” Kylie scoffed. “That was forever ago. My glutes are a lot stronger now.”
Next I moved to Kylie's back, and started applying coconut oil to the bulging columns of the erector spinae muscles that sprouted upward from her glutes. Even though her erector spinae were bigger than any muscles in my back, I was able to finish them in a second, and I was starting to think that I might get through this ordeal quickly. Then Kylie flared her lats, and her back erupted in a sprawl of thick rocky muscles that looked more like a landslide of boulders than a teenaged girl's back. I tried to not to think about how big and how hard Kylie's muscles were as I ran my hands up and down her lats, each of which were as big and thick as a 24-pack of beer cans but much much harder. As I struggled to fit my hands around her lats, my amazement got the better of me. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “Your back is wider than you are tall, and it's as thick and hard as a brick wall.”
“Well, you're right about my back being wider than I am tall,” Kylie snorted derisively. “But it's way thicker and harder than a brick wall. Check this out.”
I was refilling my hands with coconut oil when she transitioned from a rear lat spread to a rear double biceps pose, and the boulders of muscle on her back bulged up into mountains as they contracted, each one popping into perfect definition as they formed ridges of rock-hard female muscle. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “Your back is full of muscles that I've never seen before. Like what are these muscles up here? Do other people even have these muscles?”
“They're called rhomboids, and everyone has them but no one has them like I do,” Kylie crowed. “Especially with all the gains I made this year. If they held the Mr. Olympia contest now, I would make those puny men look like stick figures. My rhomboids are bigger than their delts, my delts are bigger than their lats, my lats are bigger than their traps, and my traps are bigger than anything.”
It was hard to argue with her. Kylie's traps were as thick as fire extinguishers where they bulged above her shoulders, and they were so swollen with mass that they rubbed against her lats and delts like tectonic plates as they tapered down into her back. Kylie's back was so big, so thick, and so knotted with rock-hard muscles that I felt tiny when I looked at it, even though I was nearly a foot taller than her. My throat was dry with fear, as I moved on to Kylie's muscle-domed shoulders, struggling to work the oil into the heads of her deltoids. There was just no give in the steely hardness of Kylie's muscles, so I couldn't fit my fingers into the inch-deep grooves where the three heads cleaved. Even the striations on her delts were unmovable, like fissures in golden-brown marble.
I knew Kylie was a perfectionist, and I prayed that she wouldn't notice I missed some of her delts. I moved on to her triceps, which were as big as small watermelons, but split like pistachio nuts as they tapered from her shoulders to her elbows. I was shaking with fear as I remembered all the pain that Kylie had inflicted on me with her arms, from that first game of mercy when she was 9, to all the armwrestling, to all the punches that shook my body like jolts of lightning. But I was almost done rubbing oil on Kylie's back and arms, and I was starting to think that I might get through this ordeal without her taunting me. Then she wheeled around, her blonde hair flowing in the light, and her blue eyes alive with malice. “Rick, why did you stop talking about how awesome my muscles are?” she demanded. “Are you in a hurry to get you hands on the biggest biceps in the world? These biceps?”
Kylie was looking right at me as she pumped her right arm in my face. I was breaking out in a cold sweat now, focusing on using both of my hands to oil up Kylie's towering right bicep, and trying to avoid her withering gaze. Kylie laughed at my discomfort as she extended her enormous arms and slowly flexed them, and I shrank in fear as I felt her bicep extend into a chiseled slab the size of a liter of milk, and then contract into a heaping boulder the size of a cantaloupe. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “How is it even possible to have arms this big? Your biceps feel like cannonballs.”
“Cannonballs?” Kylie growled angrily. “My biceps are bigger, harder, and more powerful than any stupid little cannonballs! Are you trying to make me mad!? Do you want me to crush you!?”
“I'm sorry Kylie,” I whimpered. “I meant wrecking balls. Your biceps are like wrecking balls.”
“That's better,” Kylie scoffed. “Now get on your knees, where you belong, and oil up my abs.”
I dropped to my knees instantly, cowed into automatic obedience by my impossibly muscular kid sister, who continued to glare down at me as I began to rub oil onto her stomach. Beneath the softness of her glowing skin, Kylie's 8-pack abs were as impossibly hard, with inch-deep cuts separating them from her obliques and serratus. It was as if blocks of steel had bee forged into perfectly symmetrical and perfectly defined muscle shapes, then welded together from ribcage to pelvis to make an impossible ideal of muscular perfection. But that ideal of muscular perfection wasn't impossible, it was real, and it belonged to a snooty teenaged girl. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “Your core is packed with muscle, but your waist is so tiny. You're like a Barbie Doll and a He-Man figure rolled into one.”
“Barbie is a flat-chested bimbo and He-Man is a skinny runt,” Kylie sneered. “If He-Man was real, I'd break him in half. And if Barbie was real, I'd make her worship me, just like I'm doing to you.”
Kylie's taunts were getting angrier and more violent, but I only had one part of Kylie's body left to oil. Unfortunately it was her mammoth pectorals. I was shaking like a leaf now as I stood up, but I was starting to think that I might get through this ordeal without getting hurt. But then Kylie started flexing her pecs, which started to churn like industrial machinery, the rolling slabs of muscle so big that I was afraid they would break my hand. “Well?” Kylie demanded. “I'm waiting. Oil up my chest now!”
I tried not to look at Kylie's pectoral muscles, but they were so big and so incredibly well developed that it was impossible to ignore them. They were at once both blocky and rounded as they swelled with muscle from the bottom of her ribcage where they jutted out like a shelf, to her shoulders where they bulged with striations as they merged with her front delts, to her collarbones where they swelled up to her chin like bread rising in an oven, to her sternum where they created a gulf of muscular cleavage nine inches deep. “What the hell Kylie?” I gulped. “How can muscles get so... It can't be possible for... I mean, no one could possibly have pecs that are so... they're gigantic!”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said with a chuckle. “I hit my pecs super hard, but they never seem to plateau. They just get bigger and stronger. But you know that, Rick. Remember back in June when I told you that I was benching 250, and you didn't believe me? I proved it to you, though. But then you said I couldn't bench 300, so I had to prove that to you. Then I proved that I could win Mr. Olympia, and the World's Strongest Man, and soon I'm going to prove that I can win the UFC heavyweight title.”
I dropped the tube of coconut oil on the floor as I backed away, shamed and defeated. “Please stop,” I begged. “You win. I'm sorry I doubted you. You're the biggest and the strongest. Just stop this rampage that you're on.”
“Stop?” Kylie laughed. “No way. It's fun to dominate wimps. And speaking of dominating wimps, you need to pick up that oil. You forgot something. Actually two things. Two big things.”
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Another great chapter. Can't wait for the fight!
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I really enjoyed this chapter, seems like Kylie forcing Rick to oil and complement her muscles has caused a shift in his views on her muscles, he can't deny that they are awesomely huge, ripped, hard, and strong, and now I'm guessing he's going to have to oil up her mammoth tits, which I'm sure will make him the envy of all of the straight men who have seen Kylie's awesome boobage. While I think that this chapter was a fun read, I am more looking forward to Kylie's fight as well. k+!
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The two things he is mssing will need a lot of coconut oil. Will he come in his pants even without her touching him? After oiling her boobs he will be totally humilated.
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Awesome. Is it mean that I want Kylie to dominate Rick even more? >:D
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it's clear Rick is falling in love with his sister, he's understanding how sexy are her muscles, and maybe he will ask her to kill Superman to make clear she is the most powerful human being on earth
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Had to make an account just to say how amazing this is! Especially this recent "return to form," so to speak. I personally love the sections with Kylie living up to the title of the story and, well, bullying. Feels like the story got away from that theme a little after chapter 26/27 (although the recent couple of dad scenes were great too!). I remember in some of the first chapters Kylie repeating that when she gets angry "it's like a bomb goes off inside me, and I go next level. I go next level in ways you can't even imagine." I'd love to see that now given the development between then and now, Kylie going thermonuclear would be mind blowing.
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Great story. I just hope Kylie is doing this coz she loves her brother secretly. Also, just looking forward to the fight so that Kylie can show whose the alpha .:p
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Part 3, Chapter 49
My heart sank as Kylie began to gently flex her pecs, making her enormous boobs wobble up and down in their cradle of white silk and gold chain. “Not your boobs, Kylie,” I whined. “That's gross.”
“There's nothing gross about a woman's body!” Kylie shouted. “I've been dealing with that misogynistic garbage my whole life. When boys notice girls developing boobs, they start to lose control. First they feel jealous and feel inadequate because they don't have boobs. Then they start to crave boobs. All the toxic masculinity that develops in teenage boys comes from their inadequacy in the face of a pair of sweet jugs. I call it Hooter Envy.”
“That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my life,” I grumbled.
“Then why aren't you oiling up my tits, Rick?” Kylie crowed. “Heck, you won't even look at them. It sure seems like they make you feel inadequate. Or maybe you're intimidated by them, because the last time you got close to them, they crushed you like a bug and sent you to the hospital.”
“Richard,” mom said sternly, “stop wasting time and go oil up your sister's bazooms.”
“No way,” I said. “No way in hell I'm touching Kylie boobs.”
Mom scowled as she reach down and slowly began to peel her sweater off. A second later my mom was standing topless in front of me, hands on hips, her slender limbs bulging with chiseled muscles that no 50 year old woman should be able to build, her giant boobs pointed directly at me. “Richard,” she said firmly, adjusting her glasses as she began to flex her pecs, making her tits jiggle like water balloons. “You will either deal with Kylie's bazooms, or my bazooms will deal with you.”
“But mom,” I whined.
“I'm not joking young man!” mom said sternly, bouncing her pecs more vigorously now, her slightly saggy knockers jiggling like crazy. “Do you need me to smack some sense into you with these big J cup bosoms of mine? Because if you I'd be happy to oblige, believe me mister.”
The only thing I hated more than the thought of feeling my sister's tits was the thought of feeling my mom's tits, so I hung my head and slumped toward Kylie, who laughed at my submission.
I sighed dejectedly as I stared down into the huge gulf of Kylie's cleavage. I remembered when I used to love breasts. Now, after having to deal with Allison, Kylie, Lola, and mom for the past few months, I thought of breasts as instruments of torture and domination. Then suddenly, as if she could read my mind, Kylie tensed her pectorals and her gigantic breasts surged upward toward me a tidal wave of golden brown flesh. I cried and jumped back, falling to the floor as the women laughed. “Face it Richard, you have Hooter Envy,” mom said as she wiped a tear of laughter from her eye.
“Don't worry,” Kylie taunted. “My big bad boobies won't hurt you. But they do need oiling up...”
Kylie smiled a wide, venomous smile as I oiled up my hands, and slowly placed them on her enormous breasts. I tried to ignore Kylie's gloating smile as I rubbed the firm soft flesh of her bosom. Her M cup boobs were seemingly unending as, handful after handful, I covered them with coconut oil. Finally I was finished, and I dropped the tube of coconut oil at my feet. “There, your majesty,” I said with as much spite as I could muster up. “Your huge titties are all shiny with oil. May I go now?”
“Actually, you missed a spot,” Kylie smirked. “On my sternum, right between my pecs.”
“You've got to be kidding me,” I said as tears welled up in my eyes.”
“I can't be mad at you,” Kylie said looking down at the slabs of muscle that bulged from her chest. “After all, my pecs are gigantic, so you were bound to miss a spot. Oiling them by hand must be like painting the Great Wall of China with a toothbrush. But it will only take a second to finish.”
I trudged forward, with a glob of coconut oil on my index finger, and grudgingly inserted my left hand into the cleft between Kylie's gigantic pectorals. Then to my horror, I felt Kylie's pecs close around my hand like a vice. I pulled and pulled, but despite the oil coating my hands, I was trapped. “Cut it out Kylie,” I said. “Let me go.”
“What are you talking about?” she teased. “You're all done. You can go whenever you want.”
“Let go of my hand, Kylie!” I yelled. “Stop flexing your pecs and let me go!”
Kylie looked down at her gigantic chest and giggled, tossing her hair. “Oh yeah, about that...” she said mockingly. “Sometimes my muscles just twitch and flex on their own. That happens when you have really huge muscles. Not that you would know anything about that. And by the way, I like to be called 'your magnificence'. 'Your majesty' just isn't adequate for a goddess like me.”
Then, slowly, Kylie began to flex harder and harder, and pressure on my hand began to increase. Then pain went from bad to unbearable. “Cut it out, Kylie!” I cried. “Please! Mercy!”
“You know I don't have any mercy,” Kylie said.
As the pain increase my legs buckled and I dropped to my knees, landing face-first in Kylie's cleavage. My head disappeared into the soft oily flesh of Kylie's boobs like a cherry into the scoops of ice cream on a root beer float, and her laughter echoed in my ears. With my hand trapped between her pectorals and my legs weak as jelly, I struggled to find breathing room, but her mammoth mammaries surrounded me like an ocean of adolescent flesh. The smell of coconut oil filled my nose as I struggled against Kylie's incredibly soft breasts and incredibly hard muscles, gasping for air. Then I was free. My hand slid out from in between Kylie's pectorals, my face slid out from Kylie's cleavage, and my body flopped to the floor. Right on top of Princess Honey.
Princess Honey's eyes popped open as she awoke, and for a second she was confused. Then she got angry. “Get off me you creep,” she growled, tossing me away from her body with strength I never would have imagined her to possess. “I'm the most famous and influential woman in the world. I'm not one of those tramps from the club that gets naked and grinds on guys! I should kick your...”
Princess Honey's voice trailed off as her eyes fell on Kylie, standing confident in her skimpy white and gold bikini, her titanic teenaged muscles shimmering with oil. Kylie smiled as she broke into a Zyzz pose, every inch of her 5'4” physique swelling with throbbing muscle. “Get naked and start grinding on me,” she said to Princess Honey.
Princess Honey was naked almost instantly, but she slowed as she approached Kylie, her hands trembling and her nipples so hard that they must have hurt. “Oh that body,” she panted as her knees began to tremble. “Oh dear God that body. I want to grind on it so bad, so so so bad.”
Kylie lowered her arms and hit a front lat spread, slowly, her body getting wider and wider, her huge oily breasts standing rising higher and higher. “Then why don't you?” Kylie asked.
“Because,” Princess Honey moaned as her eyes closed. “I'm about to... ah...ah... uhhh!”
Princess Honey shook and squealed as an orgasm tore through her body, ejaculate running down her perfect cocoa-brown thigh. “I love when that happens,” Kylie giggled as she relaxed.
“That was... the most intense... orgasm... I've ever had... in my life...” the pop star gasped. “I didn't even touch you and... I could feel you... feel the power... the strength... the sexual energy.”
Kylie placed her finger gently under Princess Honey's chin. “And we're not done,” she said. “After all, I made you a promise. So now you get to measure my muscles. And touch my body.”
Princess Honey was giggling as she picked the measuring tape off the floor. She was the worlds' most famous woman, known for her confidence and poise as well as rebuffing the most desirable men on earth, and in seconds she had become a quivering pile of submissive lust at the feet of my 13-year-old kid sister. Princess Honey took a deep breath as she approached Kylie, the measuring tape held tight. Kylie smiled as she flexed her right arm, and her bicep slowly contracted into a double-headed mountain of female might. Princess Honey squealed as she wrapped the tape around Kylie's arm. “33 inches,” she gasped. “That's nearly three feet! How is that even possible!?”
“Because I pump harder than anyone else,” Kylie said, smiling at the mass of her teenaged bicep as Princess Honey knelt down and wrapped the tape around Kylie's waist.
“25 inches,” Princess Honey said, letting her fingers linger over Kylie's eight pack abs.
“No one pumps like I do,” Kylie continued as she stuck out her left leg for Princess Honey, who responded like a trained dog, falling to her knees and draping the measuring tape over Kylie's gigantic thigh. I've focused on my mind-muscle connection so intensely that I can feel every single muscle fiber in my body. And it goes without saying that my form is always perfect. Perfectly perfect.”
“41 inches!” Princess Honey exclaimed. “How can you even walk?”
Kylie didn't answer, because she was still talking about herself. “I never do anything that might compromise my gains,” she said seriously. “That means no sleeping with my toes extended, no sleeping on my side after doing shoulders, nothing like that. Those little imperfections add up.”
Princess Honey moved down to Kylie's calf. “32 inches!” she cried. “Bigger than my thigh!”
“I've gotten absolutely everything out of every rep I've ever done,” Kylie said, putting one finger under Princess Honey's chin and raising her head up until their eyes met, making Princess Honey blush and giggle like schoolgirl. “And that's most readily apparent when you look at my chest.”
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Had to make an account just to say how amazing this is! Especially this recent "return to form," so to speak. I personally love the sections with Kylie living up to the title of the story and, well, bullying. Feels like the story got away from that theme a little after chapter 26/27 (although the recent couple of dad scenes were great too!). I remember in some of the first chapters Kylie repeating that when she gets angry "it's like a bomb goes off inside me, and I go next level. I go next level in ways you can't even imagine." I'd love to see that now given the development between then and now, Kylie going thermonuclear would be mind blowing.
Thanks!
This story certainly got a little unfocused. I'm just writing it off the top of my head, so if I had a good idea I just threw it in there. Wound up with way too many irons in the fire. Still, it's fun to write, and I'm happy you like it. :)
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Rick should've known that Kylie and his mom have all the power in the family, and he should just do as they say, not that I really enjoy that, well, actually, I kind of do, because I'm not against incest in stories, though I would think that these stories would never go that far, he should've just gotten it over with so we can get to the next part, of which I was very entertained by, with Princess Honey, who I guess is a female who used to be the most desireable female on the planet before Kylie came along, and is now Kylie's willing sex slave. I'm cool with that as well. I look forward to more. K+!
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Coz Princess Honey was rude to Rick, that is the reason I guess Kylie asked her to strip and grind .. I just hope she develops a liking to her brother.
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Damn, that was hot. Kylie totally owning her poor brother and making Princess Honey orgasm just by looking at her - awesome! Loved Rick's mom getting in on the action too. If only Rick could just admit to Kylie's superiority maybe he could enjoy her impossible strength and power like everyone else.
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Part 3, Chapter 50
If a genie granted me one wish, I would wish to have Princess Honey right in front of me, completely naked and covered in sweat as she explored the boundaries of her sexuality. Now my ultimate fantasy was playing out before my very eyes, but I was completely unable unable to enjoy it, all because of my bratty kid sister. Princess Honey was naked and covered in sweat just a few feet away from me, but In a cruel twist of fate, the sexual boundaries that she was exploring all involved Kylie. Once again, it was all about her.
Princess Honey was panting as she rose to her feet, and she licked her lips as she stared at Kylie's chest. “I never thought I would be so excited to touch a girl's chest,” she said nervously.
“I'm not your average girl,” Kylie purred as she flexed one pectoral muscle at a time, her pecs popping with power as the thick lumps of muscle in her chest churned and contracted, and her tits wobbled back and forth in their cradle of white silk. “And this isn't your average chest.”
Princess Honey laughed excitedly and clapped her hands like a child getting ready to open a present. “I just hope this tape is big enough to get around you,” she said. “You're so... gigantic.”
Kylie smiled and reached back behind her neck. “You won't get a very good measurement with all these chains and silk in the way,” she said. “Let me do something about that.”
Kylie smirked as she unhooked the thin gold chain that ran behind her neck, and with a flourish tossed the skimpy but elaborate top aside. Suddenly freed from the halter top, Kylie's gigantic tits bounced up and down as they settled, riding high on the colossal slabs of her pectoral muscles. Now clad only in a scant loincloth, her oiled body shimmering in the light, at once both impossibly muscular and impossibly feminine, Kylie looked every bit the goddess that she proclaimed herself to be.
Princess Honey's eyes were wide and her hands trembled as she ran the measuring tape around Kylie's waist, and began to raise it up to measure Kylie's bust. But she had a problem. Kylie was so wide and so thick that it was almost impossible for her to get the tape taught around Kylie's back while standing in front of her. Kylie smiled as she watched Princess Honey struggle with the tape. “You're going to have to reach around my lats and pull it tight around my back,” she said.
“I-I don't know if I can,” the pop star giggled. “Unless I press right up against you and... and...”
“You don't want to press your body against mine?” Kylie asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “You don't want your bare breasts touching mine, our nipples rubbing together?”
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” Princess Honey panted as she slowly drew nearer to Kylie, wrapping her arms around Kylie's back, as her body began to tremble and run with sweat.
Princess Honey's body slowly made contact with Kylie's, their breasts pressing smooshing together, Princess Honey's sweat-covered cocoa-brown skin sliding against Kylie's oil-covered golden brown skin, Princess Honey's legendary F-cup rack almost completely swallowed by Kylie's mammoth M-cup breasts. Princess Honey's eyes were closed and she was breathing so rapidly I thought she was going to hyperventilate. Kylie gently stroked Princess Honey's hair in a calming manner as the pop diva slowly and dutifully tightened the measuring tape around Kylie's immense back. “You should say 'oh my Goddess' when you're talking about me,” Kylie said. “Gods don't have tits like these.”
“Goddess,” Princess Honey panted in agreement. “My goddess. Oh my goddess.”
“Don't forget,” Kylie said as Princess Honey stepped back to tighten the tape, “it has to run underneath my bustline. So I'm afraid you're going to have to touch my boobies.”
Princess Honey laughed maniacally as she ran the tape under Kylie's hefty hooters, her hands shaking as she pulled it tight. “60 inches,” she gulped. “60!? You're almost as wide as you are tall!?”
“Almost?” Kylie asked with a smirk as she began to flare her lats. “We'll see about that.”
Princess Honey panicked as she began to lose control of the tape. “Um... oh no... 62 inches,” she said, hurriedly. “63, 65, 68... 71... 72. 72 inches! You're six feet around!”
“Don't get too excited, yet,” Kylie giggled. “You still have to measure my hips.”
Princess Honey's eyes lit up hungrily as she dropped to her knees and leaned her head against Kylie's abs, in order to reach around Kylie's sweeping thighs. Princess Honey began to breathe deeply, her eyes closing as if she was trying to regain her self control, which I guess is exactly what she was doing. It didn't work. Her hands began to squeeze Kylie's expansive buttocks, and she began to kiss Kylie's stomach, planting her lips all over Kylie's shredded midsection. “This is why I have to use something edible when I oil up,” Kylie mused. “Girls just can't keep their mouths off me.”
Princess Honey snapped back to reality, and blushed with embarrassment. She giggled for a second as she wiped coconut oil from her lips, while Kylie stroked her hair. Then she took a deep breath, straightened up, and wrapped the measuring tape around Kylie's bountiful hips. “60 inches,” Princess Honey sighed. “No wonder everyone sings about this booty. You are beyond thicc. ”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said with a cocky smirk. “So what do you think? Am I big enough?”
“Oh yes,” Princess Honey panted lustily as she groped my little sister's massive quads. “Bigger than anyone... so big. If you were any bigger I wouldn't be able to control myself at all.”
“That's too bad,” Kylie laughed. “Because I'm definitely going to get bigger.”
“Bigger?” Princess Honey asked in awe. “6 feet around, and you're going to get bigger?”
“Yeah,” Kylie said, as she took Princess Honey's hands and helped her up to her feet. “So I guess you better go back home to your husband. Otherwise, you may never be able to leave.”
“I don't want to leave,” Princess Honey said instantly. “I want to stay here with you. I want to live with you, and lift with you, and worship you, and... and... I want to love you.”
Kylie began to stroke the small of Princess Honey's back. “I thought you were a happily married woman?” she teased. “I thought you were disgusted by the idea of being with a woman?”
“I know what I said,” Princess Honey said as she began to squirm at Kylie's touch. “But that's before I saw you, before I felt your power. I-I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Kylie.”
Then Princess Honey removed her wedding ring, an elaborate gold band covered with enormous diamonds, and slid it onto Kylie's thick right nipple, where it fit perfectly. Kylie giggled with glee. “I just love the feeling of gold and diamonds on my skin,” she said. “The only problem is, now I need another ring to go on my left nipple. And of course, a girl needs more than just two rings.”
“You could have any woman you want,” Princess Honey whispered as she ran her hands along the blocky expanse of my 13-year old sister's pectoral muscles. “Any woman on earth.”
“Yeah, I know. But I have really high standards,” Kylie said, and as the world's highest-grossing singer began to worshipfully kiss her muscular chest, she turned to mom. “Mom, why don't you get the males out of here. And take fleabites with you, if she wakes up and sees what's about to happen in my bed, she'll probably have a heart attack.”
“Oh my perfect little muscle princess has a mistress,” mom said with glee as she scooped Allison up off the ground like a sack of flour. “How cosmopolitan! I'm so proud!”
As we left Kylie's Palace of Pump, the halls began to echo with Princess Honey's passionate howls, at times begging for mercy and at times begging for more. Dad grimaced in shame as Allison began to stir on mom's shoulder. “Where am I?” she asked mom as we loaded her into the limo. “Where's Kylie? And why are you bare-chested?”
“Well let's see,” mom said. “I'm bare-chested because I had to make sure Richard knew who was in charge. He was being a big baby about not wanting to rub oil on his sister's muscles, so I had to remind him who has the bazooms in this family. And we're all in the limo heading home, because Kylie's upstairs making out with Princess whoever. Oh you should have seen it, she was measuring Kylie's muscles and she just couldn't control herself. My baby has 33 inch arms! Can you believe it?”
“Do you mean that everyone was oiling Kylie and touching her muscles, and you didn't wake me up?” Allison's said, her face red with anger and tears welling in her eyes as she turned to me to demand an explanation. “Rick, what the fuck!? You know damned well that I would give anything to touch Kylie's body again, and you didn't even try to wake me up!? And there was oil, and Princess Honey, and measuring Kylie's muscles... It's like you let me sleep through Christmas you asshole!”
Allison drew back her fist, her arm and shoulder swelling with power beneath her sweater. “Please,” I cried. “It's not my fault! Kylie was controlling everything. I had to just... obey her.”
Allison closed her eyes and slowly lowered her fist. “This isn't your fault,” Allison said as tears streamed down her cheeks. “This is my fault. I need to have more self control. I need to be a better person. I need to be stronger, and I need to be hotter, so Kylie can't ignore me. This is all on me.”
Allison was pretty quiet for the rest of the ride home, while mom took topless selfies. And as I looked through news stories on my phone, I saw an advertisement for what was being billed as 'The Greatest Event in Mixed Martial Arts History': a fight between three grown men and a 13-year old girl.
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Well, once again, really great stuff here, I definitely enjoyed this chapter, seeing how huge Kylie is both around her chest and her hips, a 5 foot around booty is pretty damn huge, she makes the Kardashian's asses look flat next to hers. I'm wondering how many songs have been written and recorded about Kylie? That mention by Princess Honey has me wondering, is it all women or have some men written about Kylie too? Also wondering what her waist measurement was too, just to give some contrast to the size of her chest and hips. Anyway, I look forward to the next chapter, as always. k+!
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Ooops, just read the last chapter before this one, her waist was 25 inches, so yeah, her hips are 35" bigger around than her waist, a real hourglass figure. k+!
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Great story . Just waiting for the epic fight now !!
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Expecting a lot of verbal humiliation in the fight... I hope Kylie lets the guys kick her n punch her body n torment them verbally during the fight ..
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If i was here brother i would give up and do anything for her.
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Part 3, Chapter 51
Spring was beautiful this year, with warm weather and clear skies, and flowers blooming everywhere. It was a time of rebirth for me as well. I was doing really well in school, and had already gotten accepted into a couple of colleges, so I was looking forward to graduating and getting as far away from home as possible. I had was starting to feel like a new man.
Allison was changing as well. She was working out three times a day now, using the gym in our basement as well as a local raw gym, and she had only grown more quiet and distant. She was living like a monk, focused totally on lifting weights and eating a diet consisting of platefuls of whole foods. Not even my mom could get her out of her shell. “You know what, Allison,” mom purred one Saturday as we ate lunch. “You've been stuck inside that sweatsuit for months. What say we head out to the pool for a quick dip? It's a little chilly, but I'm sure we can find a way to... keep warm.”
“I can't,” Allison said as she gobbled down her last bite of food and began swallowing pills.
“What's in those pills anyway?” I asked her. “You've been taking them nonstop for weeks.”
“Let's see,” Allison sighed. “The big ones are multivitamins, the white ones are amino acids, the yellow ones are testosterone boosters, the blue ones are supposed to increase my growth hormone levels, and the pink ones are supposed to make my boobs get bigger.”
“You're taking pills to make your boobs grow?” I asked skeptically. “Seriously?”
“There's a little science behind it,” Allison said. “Besides, I need every advantage I can get.”
“How does having bigger tits give you advantage?” I asked, although I knew the answer.
“Well I think your tatas are perfect the way they are,” mom said, nuzzling up to Allison and batting her eyelids. “Although it's been ages since I got to see them. Or taste them.”
“Maybe later,” Allison said, standing up and swallowing her pills with a gulp of protein shake.
Then Allison's ears perked up as she heard Kylie's voice emanating from the TV in the living room. Her and mom stampeded out of the kitchen, with me in tow, to the living room where dad had been watching the sports network. During the commercial break, they were airing a commercial for the upcoming UFC heavyweight championship fight. Clips of the 3 male fighters' signature wins were interwoven at a hectic pace. “I just want to get her out of the way, and get back to reclaiming my title,” said Dan Davis, the Olympic wrestling medalist and 5-time defending champion whose injury two years ago had started the tangle at the top of the heavyweight division. “I'm undefeated in mixed martial arts, and there's no way in hell I'm losing to an arrogant little girl.”
“I've spent my career dropping roided-out guys with big mouths,” said Tom Turner, the interim champ who had used his expert boxing and Muay Thai striking to successfully defend the title 3 times. “So it's no stretch to drop a roided-out little girl with a big mouth.”
“I ain't afraid of a little girl, no matter how big she is,” said Rex Ralston, the #1 contender who used his world-class grappling skills to fight Tom Turner to a draw in Japan. “Big deadlift don't help you when you're getting' choked out. And I've proved that time and time again.”
Then end of the commercial was a montage of Kylie working out in slow motion, her hulking body beading with sweat as she lifted impossibly heavy weights, the feminine curves of her butt and boobs accentuated by the lighting and her skin-tight workout kit. “I may be a little girl,” Kylie's voice said as she wrapped her hands, the muscles in her arms popping with impossible size and twitching with unreal definition. “But I've got big muscles and a bad temper. And I always win. Always.”
For the first time in weeks, I saw Allison smile. “Kylie is going to crush them,” she said.
“I hope she goes easy on them,” mom said nervously. “They look so frail compared to her.”
“I just hope she wears something modest, for a change,” dad grumbled.
The buildup to Kylie's fight was impossible to ignore, much as I tried. Sports outlets were talking about the possibility of other dominant female athletes arising, news outlets were talking about the moral implications of women competing with men in combat sports, and entertainment outlets were plastering pictures of Kylie all of the internet and magazine stands.
Sometimes Kylie was presented as a dominant athlete, with her muscles knotting and swelling in one dynamic pose or another, and sometimes Kylie was presented as a fashion icon, striking a pose that emphasized her fresh face, bountiful curves, perfect hair, and perfect tan. Either way, there was nothing I could do to avoid her. She was on every website, on every magazine stand, and on every television station. Once again, it was all about her. Since I was starting to pick out a college for the fall, I started looking at the Peace Corpse or any study-abroad program that would get me away from civilization, to somewhere I would never have to hear about Kylie again.
By the time May rolled around, I was basically a hermit, completing college paperwork and trying to sneak in some weightlifting when the basement was free. But between mom and Allison, I was lucky if I could find an hour per day to hit the weights. One Friday afternoon I managed to find some time with the weights after Allison had finished her afternoon set, and before mom got back from shopping. But my face fell as I walked into the basement, and saw all the barbells and dumbbells still loaded, packed with more weight than I could even dream of lifting. “What the hell?' I asked myself out loud as I approached the bench, and counted the plates. “Can she really bench press 365?”
“For about 18 reps,” Allison voice answered from the stairs. “My 1-rep max is a lot higher, but I'm focusing on time under tension right now, because I need to get ripped.”
I was afraid to ask Allison what her max bench was. She was wearing a pink sweatsuit from Kylie's apparel line, and despite its baggy contours it was well cut for Allison's body, showing off broad rounded shoulders and thick sweeping thighs. As she walked down the stairs and into the light I could see the fabric of the sweatsuit was tight around her calves, forearms and glutes, and I silently wondered what had become of the curvaceous 18-year old body that I fell in love with nearly a year ago. She was still radiantly beautiful, with perfect skin and shining red hair, and the swell of her big round breasts had only grown more pronounced as her chest got thicker and her waist got smaller. “You forgot to rack your weights,” I murmured, trying to avoid the mesmerizing sparkle of her eyes.
“I was in a hurry,” she said. “I didn't want to miss the flight. Where are your bags?”
“What flight?” I asked.
“The flight to Las Vegas,” Allison said as she helped me break down the weights, effortlessly flipping 45 pound plates onto the racks. “Kylie's big fight is tomorrow. Don't tell me you forgot?”
I had forgotten. Or at least, I pushed thoughts of Kylie as far out of my mind as I could. “You know, I don't really want to go to Las Vegas,” I said. “You all can go without me.”
“Oh no you don't mister,” mom called from the basement door as she tromped downstairs. “Your little sister is performing in front of millions of people, and she needs your support.”
“Kylie doesn't need my support, mom,” I grumbled.
“Richard,” mom said sternly. “I'm going to count to 3, and then the bosoms come out. 1, 2...”
A few hours later I was with dad in the hotel lobby of the Waldorf Astoria in Las Vegas, waiting for mom and Allison. When they finally arrived, heads turned all around the hotel. Mom was wearing a strapless low-cut gold-sequined cocktail dress that forced her gigantic jiggling J-cup boobs up and outward like two white water balloons getting ready to fall off a shelf. Her dress was cut so short that it exposed the crease where her muscular hamstrings met her round cellulite free buttocks, and her 4-inch stiletto heels held her jutting calves and sweeping thighs into unmistakably feminine lines. Her dress, combined with her gold horned-rimmed glasses and beehive hairdo made her look like a 1940's cheesecake girl. But her lean sculpted body, punctuated with rounded shoulders and a rocky back, showed a level of muscularity that no woman from that era ever dreamed of achieving. Despite being over 50 years old, and despite not having touched a set of weights until last year, my mother had a physique that could have won any female bodybuilding contest in the 1980's or ant fitness competition in the 2000's. And she was showing it off to everyone who would look, flexing her muscles for selfies and flirting with anyone approached her.
Allison, on the other hand, was dressed very modestly in a long green dress with long sleeves, showing just a hint of cleavage. With her hair swept to one side, she provided a classy counterpoint to mom's scandalous ensemble. “You're wearing more clothes that any other woman in Vegas,” I said.
Allison blushed and looked down. “I'm not ready,” she said. “My body is... I'm just not ready.”
“Wow,” dad said, ogling mom. “You look stunning. I'd be honored to have you on my arm.”
“In your dreams, buster!” mom laughed. “I wouldn't waste a body like this on a wimp like you.”
And then mom took Allison by the arm, and we all walked outside, toward the arena.
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Yeah, I liked how competitive Allison has become, I'm guessing she's trying to compete with Lola for Kylie's attention, trying to get bigger, more ripped muscles, bigger tits, and stronger as well, but I'm thinking that Lola is going to stay ahead of her, pretty much effortlessly. Allison's body just isn't like Kylie's and Lola's, and seemingly Rick's moms in that it's not primed to grow as fast as the rest of them, but she's putting effort in and that's nice to see. Probably all for naught, but it's a nice visual. Looking forward to Kylie's fight. k+!
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I expect we'd all like a better look at Allison's body now, even though she's no longer particularly disposed towards showing it to our narrator. Maybe some guys try to paw at her in an elevator again and rather than asking Rick to find help, she flexes out of her outfit...
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Part 3, Chapter 52
The arena was filled to capacity, and everywhere I looked I saw women in revealing form-fitting pink and white clothes from Kylie's athletic apparel line, and almost all of them were athletically built. Although none of them had muscles to compare with mom or Allison, let alone Kylie, all of them were showing off toned limbs and broad shoulders as as they gossiped with one another and waited for the fights to start. I had never seen so many fit women together in one place, and the confidence with which they lounged in their seats and displayed their feminine curves made me uncomfortable. The sexuality that they displayed with their cleavage and bare skin was compelling my sexual instincts to stare at them and grope them, but the power that they displayed with their muscles and self-assurance was compelling my fight-or-flight instincts to avoid them completely. I was surrounded on all sides by a combination of seductive femininity and intimidating strength, a combination that forced my brain into a dilemma that I could neither ignore nor resolve, and I wished with every passing second that the lights would go down and the fights would start, so I could think about something else.
Eventually, the show began. The undercards were great fights, full of popular and skilled fighters who all put on a great show, because the fight night bonuses were twice as high as they normally were, owing to the huge global pay-per-view audience that had tuned in to watch a teenaged girl fight three grown men at once. The UFC may have hated having Kylie in their league, but they sure loved cashing in her fame. In between fights the jumbotrons flashed pictures of all the celebrities at ringside. First and foremost among them was Princess Honey, who was proudly branded with Kylie's logo. Beside her sat Big Jon Jackson, the hulking American football player that she had married a few years ago, looking visibly unhappy she chatted exuberantly with other women.
Finally the arena went black for the main event, and the crowd cheered wildly as Kylie was introduced first, as the challenger in a fight against 3 champions. Slowly and easily, Kylie strolled down the aisle as the song “Angel of Death” by Slayer shook the seats in the area, a cocky smirk on her face and her blonde hair spilling out in tresses as opposed to the tight braids that most female fighters wore. It was as if she was daring the other fighters to pull her hair. Instead of the normal pink and white that marked her apparel line, her robe was a shimmering black, with an updated logo made specially for the fight. The new logo still featured the Venus mirror with a muscular woman inside, but now the Venus mirror was surrounded by the outline of a skull, with crossbones beneath it.
Soon Kylie was at the stairs to the ring, and the jumbotron flashed her statistics as she began to remove her robe. 13 years old, 5'4” tall, 353 pounds, reach of 65”, and a professional record of 1-0. “353 pounds?' I exclaimed. “She weighed 301 in February, and that was 3 months ago. You can't put on 50 pounds in 3 months, not even if you just pig out and get fat. It's not possible for anyone to-”
As Kylie's robe hit the ground, my words died in my mouth. I knew she had been steadily growing since her fight with Hunor Horvath, having seen her on the Late Night Show and having seen her break Princess Honey in her Palace of Pump. But I hadn't seen her in weeks, and I wasn't prepared to see the body that she was proudly displaying as she smiled and blew kisses for her fans. Her upper arms were as big as watermelons, her calves were the size of half cinder bocks, and her buttocks were the size of classroom globes. Thick slabs of muscle bulged from her entire body, contracting and flexing with every movement, but instead of making her body blocky and stout, Kylie's muscles wrapped around her limbs and trunk to accentuate her feminine curves from her jutting chest to her waspish waist, to her round buttocks to her curvaceous legs. Her massive shredded physique was covered by a black sportsbra and black hotpants, both bearing her new skull and crossbones logo, and although her kit was hardly skimpy, her feminine assets forced themselves into prominence. She was unmistakably the most muscular human being on earth, and she was unmistakably a girl.
Next the three men were introduced, first Rex Ralston, then Tom Turner, then Dan Davis. They were all over 6 feet tall, they all weighed over 200 pounds, and they all had several inches of reach advantage on Kylie. Moreover they were all well-rounded and seasoned fighters, despite their specialized backgrounds. Kylie paid them no mind, and as they walked into the ring one at a time, she flexed her titanic muscles for the adoring crowd and ignored their cheers as she scrutinized her physique carefully, as if looking for flaws in a diamond. It was obvious from their facial expressions that they, too, were surprised by Kylie's size and muscularity, and she giggled at their obvious shock as she slowly flexed her mountainous biceps, while the women in the arena screamed and cheered.
As soon as the men were in the ring, a fight official stepped inside, laden down with the accessories that were going to serve as Kylie's handicap, followed in turn by three fight judges. The official held up a belt made of braided steel cables, which was about as wide as a seatbelt but much thicker, and the judges began to examine it closely. Allison began to read aloud from her phone. “Ms. O'Reilly's arm will be bound with a belt made of 64 braided steel cables. Each cable is 1/16” in diameter with a breaking strain of 368 pounds. Belts such as these are used to secure aircraft and shipping containers. The belt will be secured in in a padded leather sleeve to prevent it from injuring her opponents.” Allison's brow furrowed as she finished reading, her newly stoic demeanor weakening, and her eyes flashing with the anger that she would display early in our relationship. “What the fuck do they mean 'prevent it from injuring her opponents'?” she huffed.
“I guess they don't want the guys to cut their hands if they accidentally punch the belt,” I said.
“Well what about Kylie?” she fumed. “Don't they care about whether or not she gets injured?”
“Maybe they would if she wasn't so arrogant,” I sniped. “It serves her right if she gets hurt.”
“This is so typical,” Allison said, clenching her fists. “A woman can show cleavage, but she can't show confidence, and God forbid if she shows both!”
“Nobody likes arrogant people, Allison,” I said. “It doesn't matter if they're guys or girls.”
“Bullshit,” she said, as women in the surrounding seats began to take notice of our argument. “When a guy has swagger, there's always this begrudging respect that gets shown. You say 'He's cocky, but he can back it up'. But when a woman has swagger, you say 'What a bitch, I hope she gets what's coming to her'. You know what this is, Rick? This is Hooter Envy, plain and simple.”
“I'm not jealous of Kylie's tits,” I hissed. “I hate her because she's a total bitch.”
“They always say that,” a woman behind me laughed. “It's a classic case of Hooter Envy.”
I was starting to get agitated, but in the ring Kylie was perfectly calm as the fight official put the steel cable belt in its sleeve and bound it around her wrist, then fastened it around her waist and began to tighten it. I was amazed that Kylie could actually tuck her massive arm behind her hulking back, if not completely. Despite the hundreds of pounds of muscle that Kylie had put on in the past year, it appeared she had retained the flexibility that she showed during childhood when she used to dominate gymnastics meets, and as a 12-year-old when she knocked out Kevin King with a scorpion kick so perfect it could have been in a kung-fu movie. As the 3 other fighters looked on, the fight judges tugged on the belt to make sure that it was secure, and the fight official prepared the blindfold. The blindfold was more like a black hood that covered the top half of Kylie's head, but before the fight official slipped it on all three judges examined it, and Kylie quickly tied her hair up in a ponytail with one hand in an impressive display of manual dexterity. The hood fit tightly around Kylie's head, almost like a superhero mask, cut comfortably around her nose and ears, her blonde ponytail sticking out.
“I'm like, so nervous for Kylie,” a young woman in front of us said. “I was blind for a day after my lasik surgery, and I was helpless. I couldn't keep my balance, and I was bumping into everything.”
“Don't worry,” Allison said. “Kylie will win. Kylie always wins.”
“Yeah, but what if she doesn't?” the young woman in front of us said gravely, turning around.
Allison's face fell, as if she had never considered the possibility that Kylie might lose, despite the ridiculous handicaps she was facing. Then mom joined in. “You don't think..?” mom asked, her voice choked. “You don't think my perfect little muscle princess might actually... not win a fight?”
“Kylie will win,” Allison said quietly, wringing her hands. “Kylie always wins. She has to win.”
As the women around me started to worry, their faith in Kylie flagging, I started to feel better. Maybe Kylie would lose. After all, she wasn't really a goddess, she was just a bratty 13-year-old girl. And with one arm tied behind her back, the men could simply lift her up and drop her to the mat time and time again. And because she was blindfolded, they could dance around her and pepper her with punches. The men could win on points without having to contend with her strength. “She is going to lose,” I whispered to myself, so no one could hear me. “This time, she's actually going to lose.”
In the ring, Kylie was still wearing a cocky smirk as the announcer introduced the fight, and the bell rang. Kylie took small, but steady steps toward the center of the ring as the men fanned out around her cautiously. And for the first few seconds of the fight, nothing happened at all. “Well?” Kylie asked. “Are you wimps going to attack me, or am I going to have to come and find you?”
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Finally, we get to the "fight of the century" which even with Kylie's limitations is more likely to be a complete massacre, just because Kylie is so big, tough, strong, I can't see her losing, or even really coming close. In fact, the only way I see this fight lasting over 2 minutes is if Kylie is just playing with them the whole time. But whatever happens, I look forward to the fight! k+!
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I agree. I can see for the fist few minutes Kylie demonstrating her superior speed and reflexes but dodging all of their punches and kicks while looking like a graceful dancer somehow even while blindfolded. When the fighters say stand still you little b-word she says, "Ok" and becomes an immovable block of iron. She just stands there giggling as the fighters injure their hands and feet landing blows on her stoney/steely body and remains unmoved as the fighters struggle to put her in holds. Then she begins the destruction. Will be great.
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Part 3, Chapter 53
As the three best heavyweight fighters on the planet looked at each other, preparing to combine their forces against my incredibly strong and amazingly muscular kid sister, an anxious silence fell over the crowd broken only by a few scattered hoots and wolf whistles. Tom Turner moved in first, in a fighting stance appropriate to his Muay Thai background, despite the fact that Kylie was flat-footed and blindfolded with her right arm tied behind her back. His serious approach was a clear sign that, despite his trash talking, he respected Kylie's skill as a fighter, or at least her strength. From our seats we could hear the commentators talking. “Can she at least hear them in there?” one announcer asked. “You spent years in the ring, Andy. Can you hear other fighters moving around?”
Andy shook his head. “Not when it's noisy,” he said. “When it's noisy, you can barely hear your cornerman yelling at you. When it's quiet like this you might be able to hear grunting or stomping. But she can't hear them walking around and breathing, not unless she has phenomenal hearing.”
“I do have phenomenal hearing,” Kylie said, turning toward the commentators.
But I guess Kylie's hearing wasn't phenomenal enough, because while she was talking, Tom Turner launched a spinning back kick at her exposed ribs. As his heel hurtled toward her ninth and tenth ribs, I realized that he was going for a liver shot, the kind of blow that could hobble even the toughest fighters by flooding their bloodstream with system-shocking toxins, and judging by the wind up that he put on his kick, that's exactly the kind of blow that he was hoping for. Then the UFC's best heavyweight striker smashed his heel into the ribs of an unsuspecting 13-year-old girl.
And the 13-year old girl laughed.
Kylie remained motionless, completely unfazed by the kick as it bounced impotently off the rock-hard muscles of her torso. “I found you,” Kylie sang as Tom fell to the mat, holding his heel.
Kylie began to slowly advance on Tom Turner as the women in the crowd began to cheer. Then Dan Davis attacked, rushing forward with shoulder down and plowing into Kylie's left side, grabbing her left leg in a takedown attempt that seemed more appropriate for a rugby tackle than a wrestling takedown. It was the sort of attack that would never work in a fair fight, where your opponent could see you, but being blindfolded Kyile never got the chance to defend herself.
It didn't matter. Dan Davis slammed into Kylie as if she were a brick wall, soliciting a lilting girly giggle from her. “What was that I just felt?” Kylie taunted. “Did a bug just land landing on me?”
As Dan Davis struggled against Kylie's enormously muscular left leg, his arms wrapped around a calf muscle that was bigger than his shoulder, Tom Turner scampered away, pulling himself up to his feet and favoring his sore heel. Kylie turned toward Tom, apparently having heard or felt his hopping and scampering on the canvas, and began walking casually toward him, dragging Dan Davis with her, as if he were weightless. “She is so strong,” a teenaged girl sitting to my right said. “It is totally awesome. I want to be strong like that. Did you see her crush that boulder at the World's Strongest Man competition? Edges totally snatched.”
“She's gotten stronger since then,” Allison said, leaning over me to talk to the teenaged girl.
“OMG what?” the girl asked. “That's so fire. Kylie is a goddess. She's going to dominate.”
But to my delight, they had spoken too soon. Suddenly Rex Ralston attacked Kylie's right leg, and she fell forward, tripping over his body as Dan Davis continued to cling to her. “That's a takedown for the guys,” the ringside commentator called, and I cheered, along with the other men in the crowd.
“Bullshit!” a woman to our left said. “That was a trip at best. The judges better not count that.”
Kylie was face down on the mat now, and Dan Davis moved quickly to take her back, but he had trouble working his way up her massively muscled body, especially as he tried not to touch her butt or boobs. Soon he had his arms locked around Kylie's left arm, trying to use the combined strength of both arms to force Kylie into a chicken wing arm bar, using the anatomical structure of the human body to his advantage. As an experienced Olympic wrestling champion, Dan knew that the person applying the chicken wing arm bar could utilize all the force in their arms and shoulders to apply the lock, while the person receiving the lock could only use their rear delts and brachialis to resist it. And he knew that no one on earth had enough strength in their rear delts and brachialis to resist a locked-in chicken wing arm bar.
Well, almost no one.
To his surprise, Dan Davis learned that the smaller muscles in Kylie's left arm were more than a match for all the muscles in both of his arms combined, as he struggled to move her gigantic arm even an inch. And as he strained uselessly, planting his knee against Kylie's enormous left leg for leverage, he learned that one of Kylie's arms was a match for his entire body.
As Dan struggled with Kylie's left arm, Rex Ralston hopped onto her right leg, trapping her diminutive foot in a toe hold. As a 6th-degree Jiu Jitsu black belt, Rex knew that the person applying the toe hold could utilize all the force in their arms and shoulders to apply the lock, while the person receiving the lock could only use their Achilles tendon and the muscles in their foot to resist it. And he knew that no one on earth had enough strength in their Achilles tendon and their foot to resist a locked-in toe hold.
Well, almost no one.
To his surprise, Rex Ralston learned that Kylie's small girly right foot was more than a match for all the muscles in both of his arms combined, as he struggled to wrench her ankle even a millimeter out of position. The crowd was going wild now, as two of the biggest and best male grapplers in the world attempted to subdue my mega-muscular little sister. “They can't submit her,” the young woman in front of us said. “Kylie's too strong for them.”
“Kylie's too strong for anyone,” Allison said smugly.
“They don't need to submit her,” I said spitefully. “All they need to do is outpoint her for five rounds, and that's going to be really easy if she can't see, and especially if she can't get off the mat.”
“She'll get up,” a woman behind me said. “She has to.”
“She can't,” I spat. “She has both arms and legs tied up. The only way she could get up is...”
And then, as if she heard me, Kylie's legs began to harden and bloom with striations as began to perform Nordic hamstring curls. Slowly, Kylie's knees began to bend, and her body began to raise up in the air, pulled off the mat by the strength of her buttokcs and legs in an incredible display of muscle control. Murmurs of awe went through the crowd as Kylie's gargantuan glutes swelled into blocks of chiseled muscle, her hulking hamstrings bulged bigger than most men's quads, and her amazing abdominals rippled with strength as they held her spine straight. “No way,” I gulped. “She weighs 350 pounds. Her legs can't be that strong.”
“Oh they are that strong,” Allison jeered. “But you don't have to believe me. See for yourself.”
Sure enough, Kylie was upright, resting on her knees as the two burly men fought to keep her from rising to her feet. The women were all cheering now, as Kylie's cocky smirk returned to her face.
It was then that Tom Turner rushed forward, his heel having recovered from its collision with Kylie's steely muscles, and swung a ferocious right hook at Kylie's jaw. As a boxing champion, Tom Turner knew that a heavy punch delivered squarely to the jaw could twist a person's neck, putting enough stress on the brain stem to cause it to spasm, knocking them out instantly. And he knew that no one on earth had enough strength in their jaw and neck to absorb the force of a cleanly-landed haymaker.
Well, almost no one.
Tom Turner's fist crashed into Kylie's face, striking her squarely on the jaw with enough force to send a heavyweight boxer flying through the air, which was just enough force to make Kylie's cheek jiggle. Immediately, she turned toward Tom, having quickly triangulated his position from the direction of the strike. “Did you just hit me in the face?” she asked with a scowl. “I'm a 13-year-old girl, I'm photographed and interviewed all the time, and I'm blindfolded. And you hit me in the face!?”
“My perfect little muscle princess!” mom cried. “Oh I hope her beautiful face is okay!”
“I'd be more worried about Tom Turner,” Allison chuckled. “Because he's about to get crushed.”
Kylie erupted up on to her feet, throwing Dan Davis and Rex Ralston aside like ragdolls as she cracked her neck. “You just sucker punched a 13-year-old girl in the face?” she demanded as Tom backed away, a look of horror on his face as he realized that even though Kylie's jaw was as round and dainty as any other girl her age, it was made of the same rock-hard muscle as the rest of her.
As he backed away, his panicked footsteps echoed on the mat loudly enough for Kylie to stalk him, cutting off the ring like an experienced fighter. As Kylie drew nearer, Tom's fighting instincts took over, and he fired a front kick squarely into Kylie's chest, where it smacked uselessly against her monstrous pectorals, and she smiled. Then acting out of fear, he lashed out with a looping overhand left, striking Kylie on the other side of her face. Kylie froze in her tracks, obviously unharmed but obviously angry. “You just don't learn, do you?” she growled. “I guess I have to teach you a lesson.”
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I reckon this story would take a much more interesting turn if she somehow lost this.
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Like I said, Kylie was toying with these guys, allowing them to take her down to the mat, and it was probably going to be more playing for the next couple of minutes, until Tom punched her, while the punch seemingly had very little affect, it did seem to get her attention, and that's not going to be good for Tom, and probably won't be too good for the other two guys either. It seems her face may just be as muscular and tough as the rest of her, though it does make me wonder, how does one build up the muscles of their face? Well, pretty sure Kylie found a way. Anyway, looking forward to more, k+!
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There will be a bad end for the three fighters. But what happens next? What will be Kylie's goals after that? Lead the world?
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There will be a bad end for the three fighters. But what happens next? What will be Kylie's goals after that? Lead the world?
Good Idea.
Rick will provoque her " you might be physically powerful, but the president of the USA has more real power.
She gets angry. She launched herself into politics and get elected POTUS at 14 years old, after obtaining a constitutionnal change.
She turn the country into a dictatorship, totalitarian gynocracy with every women following her program and men enslaved.
Rick break up with Alison and flees abroad, putting an ocean between him and his sister. Why not in a very macho country, liké Iran or something.
Kylie finds him, invade the country and annex every countries to form her World sized empire.
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There will be a bad end for the three fighters. But what happens next? What will be Kylie's goals after that? Lead the world?
The author established a few chapters ago that Superman exists in this story's continuity. It is my hope that Kylie somehow grows so strong she can take on the Man of Steel himself. And I hope that's exactly what he's setting us up for.
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Part 3, Chapter 54
Tom Turner was visibly frightened, his lifetime of training as a professional fighter having proved useless against the unstoppable middle school girl who stood before him, her body bulging with slabs of vein-streaked muscle like it was hewn from golden brown marble. Kylie's smile returned as she clenched her free hand into a petite girly fist that was made terrifying by the softball-sized knot of forearm muscles that rippled just above it. “I can smell your fear,” Kylie giggled. “I love that smell.”
Luckily for Tom, Dan Davis and Rex Ralston had crept up on Kylie as she postured, and just as she raised her fist, they pounced. The two heavyweight grapplers wrapped their arms around Kylie's foot-thick muscle-lined thighs and picked her up off the mat, then quickly tossed her upward into the air as high and far as they could manage with her great bulk. “How is Kylie supposed to fight if they won't even let her stand up?” Allison demanded coldly as Kylie's body sailed into the air.
“That's the whole point,” I smiled, as Kylie began to plummet downward to the mat, headfirst. “They can control the fight by keeping her off her feet. They can outpoint her and win by decision.”
But then my recent wave of confidence waned as, suddenly, Kylie's body began to tighten and bend in mid-air. Time seemed to slow as she jackknifed her legs upward and extended her free arm downward, landing safely in a one-handed handstand mere milliseconds before she hit the mat. The entire arena gawked in silence as Kylie balanced her entire colossal body on five slender fingers, her body steady and unwavering as her arm bulged with lumps of muscle in every direction, and the three heads of her deltoids swelled into a knot of muscle the size of a soccer ball. Then, with a flick of her wrist, Kylie dismounted the handstand, flipping easily back onto her feet with catlike grace. “That was the most amazing display of athletic prowess I've ever seen in the ring,” one of the commentators said. “But you don't get points for athleticism, and Kylie has been on the defensive the entire fight.”
“It's hard to go on the offensive if you can't see,” the other commentator added.
As Kylie casually adjusted her sportsbra, her gigantic breasts having begun to spill out during her handstand, the three men huddled briefly, then began to fan out around the ring and tiptoe toward her. “Why are you three wimps always sneaking around?” Kylie taunted as she put her arm behind her head and flexed her muscle-etched abs. “I thought you said you weren't afraid of my muscles?”
In those spare seconds while Kylie posed, the men pounced. Tom Turner grabbed her arm, Dan Davis grabbed her left leg, and Rex Ralston grabbed her right leg. Moving quickly, they managed to pick her up and drop her on her chest, each man wrapping his body around one of her massive limbs. Tom locked Kylie's arm in a judo arm bar, while Dan and Rex locked her feet in ankle locks.
Now they had her trapped. Lying prone with all four limbs immobilized, there was no way that she could move, despite her incredible strength. And with just a few seconds left in the first round, the guys had not only won the round handily on points, but had also found a strategy that allowed them to neutralize Kylie's unstoppable muscles, thanks to their superior numbers and the handicaps that Kylie had agreed to wear. The arena was quiet as the men began to nod to each other approvingly, and the women exchanged nervous glances. “Kylie can still win,” Allison said to mom, her voice shaking with uncertainty. “It's only the first round. Besides, I'm sure she can overpower them.”
“No she can't!” I shouted loudly as I lost my cool. “Don't you get it!? She's not a goddess, she's just a little brat! She can't overpower them! She's not strong enough! She's going to lose!”
As soon as those words left my mouth, Kylie's head snapped around, facing squarely in my direction, as if she had heard my voice through the din of the crowd. Her nostrils flared just a little, and her jaw trembled as she clenched it. Then a high-pitched girly growl began to build in Kylie's throat, and her muscles began to contract, twitching and rippling as if she were getting bigger before my very eyes. “I. Never. Lose!” she barked as her body began to tremble. “I. Am. The. Strongest!”
Then Kylie bucked her hips, exploding upward into the air using only the power of her massive glutes and the steely muscles of her core, as the three male fighters clung to her limbs. The women in the crowd cheered as Kylie rotated her body in mid air, her stomach rippling with muscles big and small as she torqued her body, turning her chest to the ceiling and her back to the mat in another display of unbelievable muscle control and athletic coordination.
As Kylie landed on her back, Dan Davis and Rex Ralston flopped against the mat, struggling to hold on to Kylie's legs as she used her enormous quads and calves to power out of the ankle locks. Tom was still wrapped around Kylie's arm like a ribbon around a Maypole, until she slammed her arm downward, smacking his head against the canvas so forcefully that his mouthguard flew across the ring and his limp body instantly fell to the mat.
Tom Turner, the interim UFC heavyweight champion, was now lying unconscious on the mat, and as medical personnel rushed toward the ring to examine him, Kylie looked down at her legs toward Dan Davis and Rex Ralston. “Now I know exactly where you are,” she said. “I don't need to see you.”
The two men immediately released Kylie's legs, in hopes that they could retreat across the ring to safety, but Kylie was too quick for them. Her legs moved with serpentine efficiency as they wrapped around Rex Ralston's torso, dwarfing it with their muscular bulk, as her free hand shot out and clamped around Dan Davis' right wrist.
Rex tried to use his years of Jiu Jitsu training to escape from Kylie's legs, but she skillfully controlled him as though he were a novice, moving her hips and feet to twist him until he was trapped in a leg scissor choke, his mouth and nose smashed against the granite-hard block of calf her muscle, preventing him from drawing air. “You thought you could control these legs with your weak little body and your sloppy holds?” Kylie laughed. “Let me show you how a real Jiu-Jiteiro works a submission.”
As she taunted Rex, Kylie twisted Dan Davis' arm with such force that he flopped like a fish to avoid having it pulled from its socket. Dan mustered all the technique that he had learned over a lifetime of wrestling, but to no avail, as Kylie expertly controlled his entire body with her single free hand. No matter how Dan tried to escape, Kylie was able to twist and pull his wrist to bend him however she desired. Finally Dan Davis was flat on his back with his arm wrenched unnaturally into a vicious hammer lock, his whole body shaking from pain. “How did you medal in the Olympics with such bad technique and such wimpy muscles?” Kylie laughed. “I bent you into a pretzel with one arm.”
With 3 seconds left in the round Rex Ralston tapped on Kylie's thigh to surrender, immediately before his body went limp. With 2 seconds left in the round Dan Davis tapped on the mat to surrender, immediately before his beefy arm snapped like a twig. With 1 second left in the round, the referee screamed that the fight was over. And so, 4 minutes and 59 seconds after stepping into the ring, my 13-year-old kid sister had emerged as the UFC heavyweight champion, having beaten the world's 3 best heavyweights fighters at once, while blindfolded and with one arm tied behind her back.
Throughout the stands women hugged and jumped for joy while men gawked in disbelief. In the ring, as medics tended to Kylie's latest victims, she removed her blindfold and took out her ponytail, her hair instantly springing into perfectly styled tresses of shining blonde hair. Then, with terrifying ease, Kylie pulled her right arm from behind her back, causing the belt of steel cables that bound her to explode into a spray of metal scraps and shredded leather. “No way,” I muttered in disbelief as Kylie tore the remains of the leather sleeve from her wrist. “How can she be that strong?”
Allison laughed uproariously as she pulled me close. “Did you see that, Rick?” she cackled. “Kylie snapped those steel cables like wet noodles. How could you ever think she would lose?”
Then, as the medics left the ring, and the announcers and commentators entered, Kylie pulled her top off, flaunting her womanhood as her gigantic bosom bounced free. Kylie smiled as the crowd hooted and whistled, basking in the adoration of her fans as she tossed her sportsbra into the crowd where women began to clamor for it as if it were a wedding bouquet. Immediately, one of the announcers rushed a towel to her, in order to cover her prodigious assets. But Kylie ripped the towel from his hands and threw it away with a huff, and then proceeded to thrust her bare chest outward as she flexed her towering biceps. “Nothing can stop girl power!” Kylie yelled triumphantly as the women in the crowd screamed themselves hoarse, tearing up and quaking with long-repressed sexual ecstasy, much like the girls who gathered to greet British invasion bands at airports in the 1960's.
Kylie circled the ring, cameras flashing as she blew kisses to her fans, and phones throughout the arena buzzed with notifications of Kylie's victory from every site on the internet. Then Kylie's eyes fell on me, and she locked me in her icy gaze, and she laughed. Once again, it was all about her.
Finally, a fight official crept up to Kylie, holding the UFC championship belt as well as the interim championship belt. With trembling hands he hung one belt on each of Kylie's expansive shoulders, effectively covering her breasts. Kylie scowled at him, and he shrunk like a frightened kitten, but as she looked down at the glittering gold of the championship belts, she smiled and nodded in approval. “Gold is my favorite color,” she smirked. “A girl can never have too much gold.”
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I reckon this story would take a much more interesting turn if she somehow lost this.
I do need a twist to set up the third act...
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I reckon this story would take a much more interesting turn if she somehow lost this.
I do need a twist to set up the third act...
Agreed. As fun as it is watching someone dominate every field with relative ease, I would also love to see how she responds to an unexpected loss. Anger? Determination? A simple shrug of the shoulders and water off a ducks back?
Big credit to you on making a story that stirs conversation and emotion!
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I reckon this story would take a much more interesting turn if she somehow lost this.
I do need a twist to set up the third act...
Agreed. As fun as it is watching someone dominate every field with relative ease, I would also love to see how she responds to an unexpected loss. Anger? Determination? A simple shrug of the shoulders and water off a ducks back?
Big credit to you on making a story that stirs conversation and emotion!
The absolute ultimate twist is Rick finally beats her at something haha
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Yup, not unexpected to see Kylie win, just because of how she has been dominant in the other contests that we have seen her enter against men. Like Red Saxony Devil has said, it would be interesting to see her lose at something, just to see how she'd respond. It probably has been years and years the last time she has lost at something to her brother Rick, maybe it's time he comes up with something that he can beat her at? I know I love Kylie's awesome strength, muscles, and her abilities, but I guess the story loses some of it's luster when it becomes as predictable as it has become. But then again, it's still a hot read each and every single chapter. k+!
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Another great chapter. I agree with everyone else that a twist is in order, although Kylie losing isn't the only path. Rick could do something selfless for Kylie that shocks her to her core. Not that its a twist, but I've played a scenario out in my head where Rick tries to run away from his family, Kylie hunts him down and makes him a prisoner in her Palace of Pump.
Anyway, awesome as always. K+
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Great story. Just wondering now, Kylie has super strength and based on the last story also seems to have super hearing. Moreover the universe has Superman in it . Is she somehow related to Superman, like a long lost sibling perhaps ?
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I agree with the previous comments that we need to see Kylie lose at something. She may win the war, but it would be nice to see Rick win a small battle, at least. I dare say, at this point he needs to get some sort of small victory over Kylie in order for the story to keep from becoming stagnant.
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Rick always seems like he's about to win a small battle but then Kylie pushes through her plateaus and proves him wrong. or loses her patience and there was never a plateau at all.
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Rick always seems like he's about to win a small battle but then Kylie pushes through her plateaus and proves him wrong. or loses her patience and there was never a plateau at all.
"loses her patience and there was never a plateau at all." That's a great pick up, very true.
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Sister=Lucy
Rick=Charlie Brown
Possibility of Karlie losing anything=Football
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Here's a twist, he wakes up at the very end after Kylie is about to pop his head off with her legs and realizes the whole thing was just a dream... only to walk downstairs to hear Kylie say something about wanting to start lifting weights to her parents.
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Here's my idea and hope:. As I mentioned before, the author has already mentioned Superman exists in this story continuity. I'm assuming that means he's leading toward a confrontation between Kylie and Superman, which to be honest would be a dream come true for me. It makes.perfect sense. Kylie wants to spend the patriarchy. But no matter who she beats and crushes, Superman still exists as the ultimate symbol of male supremacy. Even if his intentions are good. And Kylie needs to shatter that symbol if she's ever going to achieve her goal.
Having her actually lose at something and giving her brother the small personal victory that both he and the story needs could also fuel her drive to push herself to reach the levels needed to take on Superman.
Plus I'm going to be honest. When. It was just Kylie it was one thing. But when it became Allison and his mom too,it didn't just become about a female or even females dominating Rick, but rather, life shitting all over Rick again and again and again with no reprieve. And that has to change.
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Rick should take a moment to think about how to defeat her. The fact is 1) she always accept any challenge her brother launch to her, just to prove him 2) she never lose.
He can turn this back to his own benefit.
So, if Rick challenge her with someting really stupid and unhealthy, like a hot-dog eating contest, or booze drinking contest, she will probably win and destroy herself. >:D
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On a related note to the above comment, Kylie seems like she is fueled by Rick's desire for her to lose/doubts she will win.
She always seems to overcome a challenge just to spite him.
She may be more co-dependent on him than she realizes.
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Part 3, Chapter 55
The post-fight interviewer was well-known for his humorous quips and overly-familiar manner with fighters, but he kept a respectful distance from Kylie as he cleared his throat. “Kylie, that was the most dominant display of fighting skill and raw power in the history of mixed martial arts,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said, barely acknowledging the interviewer as she flexed her right arm, studying the size and shape of her massive bicep as she moved her wrist and fingers to make it hop.
“There's one thing on everyone's mind right now. Well, two things, technically,” the interviewer quipped. “Why did you take your top off? You've never celebrated so demonstratively before.”
“I have a great rack, and I want the world to see it,” Kylie said as she pointed her right leg and began to flex her quads, her focus entirely on the teardrop-shaped knots of muscle that played around her knee. “For centuries women have been told that they need to be ashamed of their bodies, but I'm proud to have a woman's body, and I'm proud to show the world what a woman's body can do.”
Around the arena women cheered in solidarity with Kylie, and flashed their breasts proudly.
The interviewer was visibly uncomfortable, although I couldn't tell if it was because of Kylie's intimidating muscularity, her unnerving confidence, or her shameless lack of modesty. “Well, you certainly showed the world what you can do tonight,” he said. “You rallied to win in the last 10 seconds of the first round, after trailing the entire fight. Were you ever worried that you might lose?”
“No,” Kylie said as she flexed her muscle-studded midsection, running her fingers along the deep cuts in her abs and obliques as if searching for any stray molecules of fat that might disrupt her muscular perfection. “I never lose. Besides, those 3 wimps are just puny little bugs compared to me.”
“So what's next for you, Kylie?” the interviewer asked, clearly eager to leave the ring. “Your contract says that you'll retire from the UFC after this fight. Are you going to fight in another league?”
“No,” Kylie said as she ran her finger down the muscular gorge that separated her pectorals, as if judging its depth. “Mixed martial arts is so easy that it's boring. But I hope my victory encourages other girls to get involved with combat sports, so they can feel the rush of humiliating men.”
A few minutes later, we were sitting around a table in the VIP section of the most expensive lounge in Las Vegas. Mom and Allison sat next to Kylie, who was wearing a gold sequined tube dress that clung to every inch of her ridiculously curvy figure, and they fawned over her ceaselessly as I watched the girls in the club and dad stewed in anger. “Kylie, you were unbelievable,” Allison said.
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said as she looked around the lounge, her eyes lighting on every cute girl she saw. “But sometimes I think I'm almost too awesome. I didn't even break a sweat tonight.”
“If you need to sweat, you can always call me,” a voice called from behind us. “I'll get you hot.”
“Oh look who it is!” mom sang as Lola Lopez slinked toward to table, dressed in a black latex catsuit that was so laughably tight around her muscular young body that it's zipper was stopped below her navel, exposing her slabs of pectoral muscle and washboard abs, and nearly all of her big wobbling breasts, which looked almost as big as her head as they spilled out of the latex top.
A pair of four inch heels, a long braided ponytail and black nail polish completed Lola's dominatrix look. “Buenos noches, Senora,” she said, kissing mom's hand. “You look exquisite.”
“Oh Lola, you're such a little charmer,” mom said, blushing.
As soon as Lola released mom's hand, she wheeled to face Allison. “I know, I know,” Allison grumbled as she vacated the chair next to Kylie. “You're a jealous girlfriend or whatever.”
“Good little bitch,” Lola jeered, smacking Allison's ass sharply. “I finally have you trained.”
Allison spun around and glared at Lola. “I'm trying to be nice because tonight should be all about Kylie,” she snarled. “But if you put that hand on me again, you're going to lose it.”
Lola laughed and sneered at Allison as she drew Kylie close, and pressed her head against Kylie's sprawling pectorals. “The most amazing girl in the world, and she's all mine,” Lola crowed.
For the next few minutes we watched as woman after woman came to the table, shaking with excitement as they professed their adoration for Kylie. Soon, a beautiful strawberry blonde woman in her early twenties approached the table nervously. She was wearing a a form-fitting pair of leggings and a crop top from Kylie's apparel line, showing off a slender body with small perky breasts and long legs, and in her hands she clutched a piece of black fabric. “Hi Kylie,” she said nervously, blushing as her words ran together. “I know you're probably sick of people bothering you and telling you how awesome you are and how pretty you are but I caught your sportsbra, and I was wondering...”
The blonde girl was old enough to be in college, and beautiful enough to be the star of any party and draw a throng of handsome admirers, but she quaked with nervous desire before my 13-year-old kid sister, hands trembling and eyes closed. “What were you wondering?” Kylie asked.
“I-I was wondering... i-if I could have a k-kiss?” the strawberry blonde stammered.
“No!” Lola snapped. “Kylie is spoken for. Catching that shirt doesn't entitle you to-”
“Of course you can,” Kylie said, smiling wryly. “Where would you like to kiss me?”
The blonde woman's eyes popped open, “You mean I-I can... kiss you on your...” she gasped.
“Just joking,” Kylie said as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Let's stick with the lips.”
The strawberry blonde laughed wildly, wracked with both lust and anxiety as she walked toward Kylie. Kylie put her hand gently around the woman's waist and pulled her close, then planted a kiss on her lips. A long kiss. A long hot kiss with lots of tongue that made Allison gawk, made my mom fan herself, made Lola redden with jealous anger, and made her admirer explode into orgasm.
“I love when that happens,” Kylie said as the woman with strawberry blonde hair slumped to the floor, twitching, smiling and clutching Kylie's sportsbra to her chest as she gasped for air.
“And just how often do you kiss strange women?” Lola asked sharply.
“Whenever I feel like it,” Kylie said with a shrug.
“Lola is such a jealous bitch,” Allison sighed. “Doesn't she understand that Kylie needs to be worshiped and adored by women everywhere? She can't have Kylie all to herself. It's just not right.”
“There's nothing you can do,” I said. “Just deal with it.”
“Maybe there is something I can do, or someone,” Allison said slyly as, from across the club, she watched Lola's mother Lorena stride confidently through the door, her statuesque body clad in a red minidress that showed a lot of leg but little cleavage, and was sexy without being trashy.
Lorena was instantly thronged by admires of both sexes, as she moved easily through them without being rude or dismissive, smiling, shaking hands, and exchanging cheek kisses. She stopped briefly to kneel down and take a selfie with a young girl, flexing a bicep any man her age would be proud to have, and showing a glimpse a bustline that any woman her age would be envious of. “Rick, if you guys want to leave early, don't wait for me,” Allison said, placing her hand gently on my forearm as she checked her makeup. “I'm going home with someone else tonight.”
“This is a bad idea,” I said nervously, but she was already halfway across the room.
Allison walked with ease to the bar where Lorena Lopez had just taken a seat, sat down on her blind side, and pretended to study the bottles behind the bar. When Lorena turned and saw her, Allison smiled and her eyes twinkled as she introduced herself, and immediately expressed an interest in an elaborate bracelet on Lorena's arm. As Lorena held the bracelet up and began to talk about it, Allison gently touched it, moving naturally as if there were no sexual connotations to her action, but also gently brushing her fingertips against Lorena's forearm. “Oh goodness me,” mom said suddenly. “Lola, isn't that your mom at the bar with Allison? She's quite a leggy dish if I do say so myself.”
Lola's eyes widened with anger as she looked to the bar and saw Allison playfully flirting with her mother. Lorena said something to make Allison blush, and then smiled confidently and turned her body toward the younger woman, who brushed a lock of hair from her face. Their feet moved toward each other slowly, and finally their bare toes touched through their peep-toe heels. “This is getting hot,” Kylie purred as she watched the scene at the bar, while Lola clenched her jaw and her fists.
Lorena motioned approvingly at Allison's physique and her dress, and Allison held her arm up, clearly joking about flexing out of her dress. Lorena accepted the invitation and placed her hand gently on the bicep of Allison's impressively thick arm, giving it a squeeze, and raising her eyebrows to signify a pleasant surprise. “I'll kill her,” Lola snarled. “I'll break her skinny body like a twig.”
When the bartender brought Lorena and Allison their drinks, they toasted and downed the brightly colored beverages in one gulp. Lorena leaned forward, her eyes narrow and lusty and whispered something to Allison. Allison bit her lower lip playfully and nodded. Then, as Lorena asked the bartender for the bill, Allison excused herself and promised to return shortly. Allison was all smiles as she approached the table, but as she leaned over it her eyes flashed with malice. “Hey Lola,” she said. “I'm leaving early, but I wanted to stop by and let you know that I'm going to fuck your mom.”
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Another great chapter. I agree with everyone else that a twist is in order, although Kylie losing isn't the only path. Rick could do something selfless for Kylie that shocks her to her core. Not that its a twist, but I've played a scenario out in my head where Rick tries to run away from his family, Kylie hunts him down and makes him a prisoner in her Palace of Pump.
Anyway, awesome as always. K+
Always nice to hear kind words from a great writer such as yourself.
I'm honestly quite flattered at all the comments and suggestions. I didn't expect this story to go on as long as it has, but I'm happy that so many people have stuck with it. I think I have the rest of the story mapped out in my head now, and I hope it doesn't disappoint.
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Yeah, I didn't know where you were going to go after the big fight and win, Kylie retiring after that display of her superiority makes sense because she really had no where to go but down. I did enjoy seeing Lola and Lorena again, and I do like Allison's way of getting back at Lola by going after her mom. I also like that Kylie doesn't think she should be nailed down to one girl, no matter how hot, and Lola is smoking hot. I wonder where it will go from here as far as what Kylie is going to do next, it will be interesting to find out! k+!
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A brief thought on each character:
Rick - Poor, poor Rick. I desperately want to see him get at least one big positive, amazing he isn't suicidal yet.
Kylie - Awesome and confident, but needs a flaw for the sake of progress.
Allison - I like her, she rattles the cage a bit.
Lola - Smug little s**t, but also fun because she rattles the cage.
Mum - Least liked character in this story. Absolute waste of space, love both your children dammit lol.
Dad - Same boat as Rick, but doubled because it's his daughter doing this.
Lorena - Jury's out on her, we shall see what happens in upcoming chapters.
Good little interlude chapter, the Allison v Lola rivalry is always fun to read. On to the next!
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Mum is obviously crazy as fuck.
It makes this character fun.
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Part 3, Chapter 56
Lola stood up forcefully, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck, and my blood ran cold with fear as I wondered what her powerful tween body would be capable of when fueled by genuine anger. As if to answer my question, Lola's latex catsuit began to split, as her body tightened like a coiled spring, and her muscles swelled. But Allison wasn't letting up. “I'm going to bury my face so far in your mom's pussy that I'll need a flashlight to find my way out,” she crowed. “And she's going to love every minute of it.”
Lola was growling like an angry pit bull now, and without taking her eyes from Allison she tore the sleeves from her catsuit, exposing arms that had grown horrifically muscular over the past few months, bulging with thick, rocky muscles so devoid of fat that they looked like they belonged in an anatomy textbook. “I am seriously going to kill you,” she spat as the legs of her catsuit started to tear along her sweeping thighs and sharply defined calves. “I am not exaggerating. You are going to die.”
Kylie put her hand on Lola's shoulder. “Take it easy babe,” Kylie said. “Your mom is a beautiful woman and a sexual being. She has every right to pursue pleasure however she sees fit.”
“Not with her!” Lola shouted as she shrugged off Kylie's hand, and stepped out of her heels.
“Oh yeah, with me,” Allison taunted. “I'm going to fuck your mom so hard she falls in love with me. Then I'm going to break her heart, and when she begs me to take her back I'm going to fuck her even harder, until she begs me to marry her. And I'm going to say yes. I'm going to be your new step-mom, and I'm going to send your slutty little ass to a boarding school , where there are no weights and no good protein options, and you have to cover up those ridiculous jugs that you're so proud of.”
Lola was shaking with anger now and words failed her, so instead she raised her fist, her bicep balling up like a rock the size of an orange under her honey-brown skin, with both bicep heads and multiple striations visible in the multi-colored lights of the club. Her body was throbbing with muscle now, as the tears in her catsuit opened wider, exposing more of her shredded physique. But Allison stood her ground, smirking, as if daring the musclebound 12-year-old to attack. But before Lola could strike, Kylie's arm wrapped around her waist in an embrace that looked both loving and inescapable. “Lola baby, this is not a good look,” Kylie said coldly. “Starting fights in nightclubs is trashy.”
“I didn't start anything,” Lola barked, but as she turned to face Kylie she pouted like a child.
Just then Lorena Lopez glided up to our table, and pulled Allison close. Fully made-up and dressed to the nines, she was more beautiful now than she was the last time I saw her, and even more beautiful than she was on television. And in high heels she was at least three inches taller than me or dad. “Are you ready?” she asked Allison with a smoky voice. “I can't wait to-- Oh my goodness, Lola is that you?”
Lola shrank from her imposing mother as she draped herself over Kylie. “Of course it's me,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration. “Who else is built like this? Who else would be with Kylie?”
“Is that the catsuit that I got you for your birthday?” Lorena asked, her tone now firm and parental. “Didn't I warn you about flexing your muscles in expensive clothes? It's completely ruined.”
Lola blushed with embarrassment, as Allison draped herself against Lorena and winked. But Lorena's attention had drifted to my mother, who was atwit*** as the statuesque Latina eyed her up and down. “And who is this, Allison?” she asked, offering a hand to mom. “Is this a friend of yours?”
“I'm Kylie's mother,” mom said, shaking Lorena's hand as she began to flush under the brown-skinned beauty's lascivious gaze. “I think we may have met at the bodybuilding thingy last year.”
Lorena's eyes lingered on mom's overflowing bust. “Oh I think I would have remembered you,” she purred as she kissed mom's hand. “Mrs. O'Reilly would you like to join Allison and I for a nightcap in my hotel room?' she asked. “It's a penthouse room, with a hot tub and a very large bed.”
“I don't know,” mom tittered, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “I'm not much of a drinker.”
“Oh we won't be doing much drinking,” Allison said. “But we'll be doing lots of eating.”
“Oh I don't know...” mom said, looking at dad who was wavering between anger and tears, Lola who was trembling with rage, and Kylie who smiled as she rubbed mom's shoulder supportively.
“Go for it mom,” Kylie said. “You're a beautiful woman and a sexual being. Make me proud.”
“Oh what the heck,” mom said as she hopped out of her chair. “You only live once, I say.”
“No no no!” dad said, sputtering with anger as he stood up and pounded his fist on the table. “This is disgusting and immoral. All these women kissing each other and flexing their muscles, and the skimpy dresses, and the breasts bouncing everywhere. This is not how women should behave!”
All the women at the table stared daggers at dad, and after a few seconds in awkward silence his temper cooled, and as Lorena Lopez walked toward him he realized the graveness of his mistake. “I'm sorry, who are you again?” Lorena asked coolly as she approached dad, towering over him.
“I-I'm Kylie's father,” he stammered, wringing his hands. “I know I lost my temper, and I'm-”
Before dad could finish his apology, Lorena wrapped her right hand around his neck and hoisted him off the ground until they were eye-to-eye, with no visible effort other than the bulging of her perfectly sculpted, perfectly round bicep. “That was a hypothetical question,” she said as dad squirmed in her hand. “Because it doesn't matter who you are. Now let me tell you who I am. I am Lorena Lopez, 3-time Ms. Olympia champion, 4-time women's world powerlifting champion, and 5-time Emmy winner for excellence in sports journalism. I put the 'amazon' in amazon feminism. I'm bigger than you, stronger than you, and I've had more women than you could dream of having. And now I'm going to have your wife. I'm going give her more pleasure than you ever could, for longer than you ever could. And there will be lots of kissing, flexing muscles, skimpy dresses and bouncing breasts.”
Lorena dropped dad to the ground and fixed her hair before returning to mom and Allison, who gazed up at her in awe as she put one arm around each of them, and began walking to the door. “I can see the family resemblance,” Kylie said to Lola as she gently stroked her muscle-studded back.
Lola pouted as she crawled onto Kylie's lap and rested her head on top of Kylie's jutting bosom. “I'm tired off this stupid club,” she said. “Let's go back to your hotel room.”
“Rick,” Kylie said to me sharply, as if I were a servant. “You can stay if you want. My sponsors are paying the tab, so feel free to enjoy yourself. But don't let anything happen to dad. I made him a promise at that Lamborghini dealership in Japan, and I intend to keep it.”
Dad went back to the hotel to mope, and I sat at the bar nursing a drink. I didn't know what to do with myself. I knew I was supposed to be happy for my little sister, but she had been upstaging me and picking on me my whole life, and there was no sign that she was going to stop. I was seriously thinking of becoming a monk when I heard someone next to me clear their throat. I looked up and saw a beautiful Asian girl with soft features, small glasses and pouty lips smiling at me. In her mostly-unbuttoned dress shirt and tight skirt, she looked like a secretary from a porno, and she was built like one, too. “You look a little young to be in here,” she said. “Are you over 21?”
“No,” I said, a bit embarrassed.
“Neither am I,” she said. “You should totally buy me a drink. My name is Lauren, by the way.”
“I'm Rick,” I said I called for the bartender.
“I know who you are,” she said, and I started in surprise. “Don't you remember me?”
“No,” I said, searching my memory banks as I stole a line from Lorena Lopez. “I think I would have remembered you.”
“Oak Park Elementary?” she offered. “Camp Wannashaka? Eric Evans' birthday party?”
Then my memory banks lit up. “You're Lauren Ling?” I exclaimed. “You look...”
“I know,” she said, smiling and straightening up, as if daring me to believe that the pudgy pimply-faced girl I remembered from my youth had grown into the shapely beauty who now sat beside me. “I had my glow-up last summer. Not bad, huh? You know, I used to have a huge crush on you.”
“I didn't know that,” I said, searching my brain for a clever reply.
“I used to have some pretty racy fantasies about you, Rick O'Reilly. But you always had a girlfriend,” she sighed. “Emily, then Bethany, then Kendra, and now Allison.”
“Allison and I aren't together anymore,” I said. “I don't have a significant other.”
“Neither do I,” she said. “You should totally kiss me.”
It took 5 seconds for my tipsy libido to accept her offer, but as I leaned toward her I paused, worried that I might blow the approach. It turned out that I was worried over nothing. As soon as I got near Lauren Ling, she grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me toward her, planting a big, sloppy kiss on my face that seemed to last forever. “I've been waiting for 10 years to do that,” she giggled.
“It was nice,” I said.
“Nice?” Lauren laughed. “You are such a dork. In my fantasies you were always so smooth.”
“Fantasies don't come true,” I said as my relationship with Allison flashed before my eyes.
“Sometimes they do,” Lauren said, her eyes sparkling as she sipped her drink.
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Mum is obviously crazy as fuck.
It makes this character fun.
I'm happy someone picked up on that. I tried to write her like the mom from Dexter's lab as imagined by Russ Meyer.
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A win! A small one, but a win! Pretty courteous of Kylie to let Rick at the bar tab while she heads off. Despite her near-constant dominance and belittling, she does take her family along to share in all that's afforded to her. I like that. Now to see if Lauren stays true to her crush on Rick or have her stolen away by the girls...
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Hey, for one night, Rick is not having his life ruined by his sister, but maybe enhanced by her being gone, Lauren Ling seemed to be very much into him, and while there's no telling how this might turn out, I hope he is able to have fun with Lauren before his good time is ruined by Kylie and Lola. As for the dad, I hope he gets over his prejudices, his temper and big mouth will get him in big trouble that the rest of his family may not want to get him out of soon enough. The whole family, including Rick has accepted Kylie's superiority, and the general superiority of females in this universe, it's about time he has too. Anyway, great work again, love Lola's hulk out moment, love Allison's seduction of Lorena, and love Lorena in turn seducing Kylie's mom, I look forward to seeing where it is going from here. k+!
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It will not end well for Rick that is a given in this story.
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Man, something about the attitude of these women just rubs me the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very wel written story, very creative. It’s just that I don‘t really get brattiness and domination for domination’s sake. Why do some female characters become these heartless bitches as soon as they get a bit of muscle? That Allison annoys me so much l, I think she deserves a punch in the face from Kylie for being such a bitch to her brother. Why does everybody treat Rick like a complete shit? I hope he and Lauren end up together. God knows the guy needs a break and some good luck:))
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Seeing Rick finally have something good happen to him was a long time coming and was badly needed. Hopefully Kylie won't take this away from him. Honestly seeing him get the short end of the stick time and time again was starting to make the story feel legitimately dark and depressing, in a way that the good parts didn't really make up for.
Also,.it's nice seeing Lola and Kylie constantly remind Allison who top dog is. I hope that becomes a bigger focus than Rick.
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As much as I love amazons and am fine with Kylie taking over the world or whatever, Rick is the viewpoint character and I do want him to get SOMETHING out of this story. But with the way things have gone I just know Kylie is going to steal this girl from him too.
Just let Rick break and accept muscle girls already. Or turn him into a girl so he can become an amazon too. I don't know.
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Part 3, Chapter 57
Lauren Ling and I both had a little too much to drink that night, and soon we were walking back to her hotel room, arm in arm. I was worried about how I was going to talk my way into Lauren's bed, and I hastily rehearsed a few lines as she turned on the lights and kicked off her shoes. It turned out that I was worried about nothing, because as soon as Lauren's shoes were off, she went right to removing her skirt, shirt, and underwear. I had barely finished gawking at her nubile body when she threw herself on me, slamming me against the door. “Wait, I have to take my clothes off,” I said.
“I've been waiting for this for 10 years,” she said in between kisses. “Give it to me now.”
I picked Lauren up by the waist and she squealed with glee, kicking her bare legs excitedly as I carried her to the bed and lay her down. Her body was all soft curves and soft skin, and as she stripped my clothes from my body, I started to feel good about sex for the first time in months. And as our naked bodies rubbed together, tingling with excitement and raw nerves, I thought to myself that a woman's body was supposed to be soft and gentle like Lauren's, not hard and powerful like Allison's.
It was midnight when Lauren and I finally exhausted each other, panting and giggling as we cuddled. “You're really good,” she said. “We were all over the bed, and you never lost the beat.”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing as I remembered the way that Allison would smack me or punch me if I failed to keep up with her when she changed positions during sex.
“And when you went down on me...” Lauren chuckled. “Oh wow! You have a great tongue.”
“Thanks” I said, grimacing as I remembered the way that Allison would lock my head in her vice-like thighs and wrench my neck if I made a misstep during cunnilingus.
“And you were so attentive to my needs,” Lauren continued as she nuzzled against me. “The guys I've been with at Hope High were done in like 5 seconds, then they fell asleep.”
“Thanks,” I said, shuddering as I remembered the way that Allison would bend me into one painful wrestling hold after another if I climaxed before she did.
“And your muscles are hot,” Lauren gushed as she traced her fingers over my chest.
“Thanks,” I said, shrinking as I remembered the way that Allison would laugh at me as she outflexed me, bragging about her superior strength, or berating me if I plateaued in the gym.
Lauren sighed as she rested her head on my shoulder. “You're sure not much of a talker, though,” she said as we drifted off to sleep. “You should learn how to use your words.”
When I woke in the morning, I felt rested and clear-headed for the first time in years. There was a warm patch of sun lying across the bed, so it took my eyes a little while to adjust as I watched Lauren do her hair and makeup in the mirror. She was wearing a modest pair of white cotton panties, and I smiled at the way her pert round butt poked out like a peach. “Lauren,” I said. “I really like you. I think we should hang out more when we get back home.”
“I was hoping you'd say that,” Lauren chirped. “Because I'm not through with you yet.”
Then she pounced, giggling as she squirmed over my body, planting kisses on me as we began another bout of carefree sex. When we finished I hurried back to my hotel to check out, but not before we made plans to eat lunch together in the airport before we boarded our flights home.
Later, as Lauren Ling and I sat in the crowded restaurant, TV's all around us showed scenes of Kylie's victory from the night before. To my left a sports station showed Kylie balancing on one hand during the fight as her opponents stared in disbelief. To my right a news stations showed Kylie flexing her mountainous biceps with two championship belts draped over her bare chest. I breathed a sigh of relief as the TV in front of me started showing a commercial for Chanel cosmetics, but my relief was short-lived when I saw that Kylie was starring in the commercial. The camera moved lovingly over Kylie's angelic features as she smiled and winked. Once again, it was all about her.
Lauren sensed my discomfort. “It must be weird to have a famous relative,” she said gently.
“Kylie and I never got along,” I said with a shrug, trying to play it cool.
“You know, since you brought it up I always thought that your sister was a total brat,” Lauren said. “When I was in 6th grade they moved her up into our gym class, because she matured so much faster than the other girls in 3th grade. And she was the worst bully. We had to stop playing dodgeball because she gave three girls bloody noses. Then we had to stop playing field hockey because she kept breaking the hockey sticks over her knee whenever she didn't get her way. One day I accidentally stepped on the heel of her shoe, and she cornered me in the locker room and demanded an apology. It was so surreal. She was this little girl with pigtails and a yellow romper, but her whole body was bulging with these big thick muscles like... well, I'm sure you remember.”
I remembered. 3rd grade was when Kylie got her muscles, and she loved to show them off, flexing every chance she got. “What did you do?” I asked, my stomach turning as I remembered how gawky Lauren was in the 6th grade, and imagined how powerless she would have been before Kylie.
Lauren shrugged. “What could I do?” she asked. “I said I was sorry. Then I closed my eyes and put my hands over my face like I was watching a scary movie. And she just kind of walked away.”
“She just walked away?” I asked in amazement. “She didn't do anything?”
“I wasn't popular like you, Rick,” Lauren said. “I had to learn how bullies work. The really bad ones, like Kylie, want to use you like a prop to put on a show. If you do anything at all, like fight back or cry, you're giving them more material for their act. You have to be boring, so they find a new prop.”
On the flight home, Lauren's words rang in my ears like a church bell as I thought back on the past year with Kylie. The only time Kylie complimented me for anything was when I made lunch after I had silently let her cow me on the pool deck. The only time she thanked me for anything was when we sat around the kitchen table after I silently submitted to being smothered by her breasts. She hurt me every time I tried to stand up to her, she humiliated me every time I whined, and every time I spoke against her she would find the biggest man in sight and bring him to heel—even if it was only me.
Lauren's hypothesis checked out. I had been encouraging Kylie's bullying behavior for years by giving her attention, fueling the fire of her boundless ego when I should have been starving it. And it wasn't just me. Everyone in Kylie's orbit was a prop in her show, whether it was mom heaping her with praise, dad getting hysterical over her provocative behavior, Allison groveling for her attention, or Lola throwing jealous tantrums. And as I grappled with my epiphany, I wondered if Lauren's conclusion would also prove correct. Could I make Kylie leave me alone if I just gave up?
I would get to test the theory a lot sooner than I thought. Kylie's new house, the Palace of Pump, was thronged with reporters and fans so she decided to spend the night at the family home. As we waited in the living room for dad to make dinner, mom raved about Kylie. “Oh my perfect little muscle princess,” she sang. “I was so worried that your fight might last more than one round.”
“As if,” Kylie snorted as she stripped out of the track suit she wore during the flight, standing in a black thong microkini as she admired her own shredded bulk. “No man could ever contend with this body. Speaking of which, I'm all stiff from the flight. Rick, why don't you give me a massage?
“Sure, whatever” I said, swallowing my shame and trying to be boring. “Where should I start?”
“Why don't you start with my boobs?” Kylie taunted. “That's what you really want, isn't it?”
“It doesn't matter,” I said lazily as I walked up to Kylie, got on my knees and started kneading the pillowy softness of her breasts “You're really strong, so I have to do whatever you say.”
Kylie blinked once, then twice. “That's right, you do,” she said abruptly, as if she was startled.
Then dad came to tell us that dinner was ready. He froze in the doorway, his face beet red with frustration. “Kylie,” he said haltingly, “I know I was out of line with what I said in the lounge last night, and of course you can do anything that you want. But could you please put on some clothes?”
Kylie immediately stalked toward dad, leaving me behind as if I didn't exist. My heart was aflutter with the possibility that I had figured out how to get free from my overbearing, overpowering little sister. Dad wasn't faring as well. “This body is the greatest achievement in human history,” Kylie snarled as she thrust her chest into him, knocking him to the floor. “And you want me to cover it up?”
As dad began to shrink more and more from Kylie's dominant posturing, mom gently stepped between them. “Kylie, m-maybe you can put on a little something,” she suggested. “Just for dinner?”
“Fine,” Kylie said, turning her nose up as she got the two championship belts from her luggage.
Kylie hung the smaller narrower interim belt around her waist, loosely, so that it covered her pelvis but exposed her abs. She draped the original championship belt across her breasts, concealing them a little “Those belts are lovely accessories,” mom said. “What with all the gold and jewels.”
“Actually, I was just thinking I needed some more... accessories,” Kylie said, her pretty youthful face sprouting haughty smirk. “After all, a girl can never have too much gold or too many jewels.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Man, something about the attitude of these women just rubs me the wrong way. Don’t get me wrong, this is a very wel written story, very creative. It’s just that I don‘t really get brattiness and domination for domination’s sake. Why do some female characters become these heartless bitches as soon as they get a bit of muscle? That Allison annoys me so much l, I think she deserves a punch in the face from Kylie for being such a bitch to her brother. Why does everybody treat Rick like a complete shit? I hope he and Lauren end up together. God knows the guy needs a break and some good luck:))
I do go overboard with the dominance in this story, because what interests me with this subject matter is the inversion of the power dynamic, with people who are traditionally weak (younger girls and older women) being exceptionally strong.
Once empowered the women treat men like means to an end (Allison using Rick to get to Kylie), whip them like misbehaving pets (mom disciplining dad and Rick), or conquer them like trophies without regard to their feelings or physical wellbeing (Kylie and Lola beating pretty much every man they encounter). Women sometimes say that they feel some men treat women this way, so inverting the power dynamic lets me play around with that idea.
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Cannot wait to see where this goes. You’ve gone psychological that chapter, and as a dude who finds the human psyche fascinating I absolutely love it!
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Yeah, last chapter seemed to go Rick's way a lot more, finding love with someone who loves him back, and who seems to relate to him, because she too was bullied by Kylie, so there's probably little chance for her to turn lesbian to Kylie. So I can see why Rick isn't minding being told what to do by Kylie as much, since he had a really good day for the first time in a very, very long time. So yeah, I look forward to more. Especially what Kylie means by getting more gold and diamonds, maybe going after a boxing championship, or pro wrestling, perhaps? No matter what, you'll have an interested reader in me. k+!
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This is an amazing story and I certainly hope you’ll continue it. I am a little uneasy with the level of violent abuse, especially between siblings, but that is the nature of the genre. I’m looking forward to reading more of your stories, and more of this one! Thanks very much.
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Part 4, Chapter 58
Two days before the school year ended, I got accepted to the University of Alaska and the University of Hawaii. They were very different schools in very different states, but they had one thing in common, they were thousands of mile away from Kylie. “I kind of like Alaska,” I said to Lauren as we flipped through our favorite YouTube channels, looking for new uploads. “Being so far away from the rest of the world would be kind of cool. I could see the Northern Lights.”
“If you go to Hawaii, at least I would enjoy visiting you,” Lauren said. “Or go to UMass, so we could hang out all the time. In case you haven't heard, I'm going into the pre-med program at Harvard.”
“I think you mentioned it once or twice,” I joked, pulling Lauren close and kissing her cheek.
Lauren was planting kisses on my neck and rubbing my crotch when the screen pinged with a notification. Kylie had uploaded a new video earlier tin the day, and it was already the most watched video of the day. “Oh my God, can you believe Kylie's latest stunt?” Lauren asked.
“What?” I asked, instantly wishing that I hadn't. “What did she do now?”
Lauren settled in and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “So this morning, Kylie uploaded a video to all her channels, asking her followers to bring her gold and jewels. And she explicitly said that she doesn't care where they come from. She basically told her fans to steal for her.”
“She asked for gold?” I asked, disbelievingly. “Is it a contest or something?”
“Kind of,” Lauren continued. “She said that she's not going to post any new content until she gets at least 1 ton of gold, 1 bushel of diamonds, 2 bushels of rubies, and 3 bushels of emeralds. Oh and any girls that bring her blue or pink diamonds will get personalized one-on-one training sessions.”
“This is crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “Does she seriously think that her fans are just going to bring her offerings of gold and jewels like she's some kind of pagan goddess?”
“I know a few girls who are probably going through their mothers' jewelry boxes right now,” Lauren said. “You have to remember, Kylie changed everything about the male-female dynamic. So she has kind of a mythological status to some women, especially those who feel victimized or exploited by men. I read an article about how they build shrines to her in women's prisons.”
“A ton of gold, though?” I said, shaking my head. “That's just insane. What kind of an egomaniac demands a ton of gold and bushels of jewels? She really needs therapy.”
Lauren saw me getting worked up, and she knew just how to calm me down. “Hey, enough with the psychoanalysis,” she said, turning off the TV and crawling on top of me. “Unless of course you have something in mind to treat my sudden onset nymphomania.”
“There's only one treatment for nymphomania that I know of,” I said, stroking her hair.
Then we heard the basement door slam, and Lauren jumped. “What was that?” she asked.
“Probably just Allison-” I said, and then instantly froze, wishing I could take back my words.
I had spent the past few weeks trying to conceal my messed-up home life from Lauren. I hadn't told her anything about Allison and her relationship with my mom, or her lust for my little sister.
Lauren plopped back onto the couch and crossed her arms angrily. “What is Allison doing here?” she asked curtly. “You told me that your parents are gone all weekend, and that we'd be alone. You told me that you and Allison broke up. Now Allison's in the basement? What's going on?”
“Uh... it's kind of weird,” I said nervously. “We're totally broken up, it's just... well...”
“I just come over sometimes to use the gym in the basement,” Allison called from the kitchen as we heard her opening the refrigerator. “And to fuck Rick's mom.”
Lauren was still glaring at me as the refrigerator door closed. “Very funny,” she said.
“It's weird but it's true,” I said sheepishly. “I love you, Lauren. And I would never lie to you.”
“Lauren?” Allison said as she entered the family room. “Lauren Ling? The Lingster? Damn girl, I heard you had a glow-up but I didn't expect all this. You're the whole meal, Lingster.”
“Um thanks, I guess” Lauren said nervously as she turned to greet Allison. “Long time no see. You look... what the fuck!?”
That was the first time I had heard Lauren swear, and I understood why she did. Allison had been wearing baggy clothes since her fight with Lola in Japan a few months ago, but now she was standing in the middle of the living room wearing a gray loose-cut crop-top tank top that hung off her like an apron, and a pair of low-cut black panties so tight that the contours of her labia were visible.
And she was huge. One year ago, Allison stood before me in this very room in her red sling bikini, proudly displaying a body that would make any female porn star cringe with envy. Now she was displaying a body that would make any female bodybuilder tremble with insecurity. All spring she was bulking up as she concentrated on powerlifting, but now she was as lean as a spartan warrior, except for the big round breasts that were almost completely visible in her low-slung top. She smiled as she looked down at the feminine curves that she had packed with muscle, from her domed shoulders, to her cobra-hood lats, to her sweeping thighs, to her blocky calves. The oversized arm holes of her tank top showed off a combination of ribs, lats, pecs, and tits that showcased both power and femininity at once. Allison smiled as she cocked her hips and thrust her chest forward. “Yeah, I get that reaction a lot,” she said as Lauren stared at her, eyes as wide as saucers.
“But I-I just saw you like 2 years ago,” Lauren said. “And now you're... you're...”
“I'm huge,” Allison laughed as she flexed a pair of biceps as big as oranges, laughing with satisfaction as she watched Lauren's mouth drop open. “And I'm even stronger than I look.”
“Stronger? Stronger than you look?” Lauren asked haltingly as Allison lowered her arms and tightened her stomach, causing her midsection to bloom with abs, ribs, serratus, and obliques.
“Oh yeah,” Allison purred, running her fingers lovingly up her abdominals, lifting her tank top to reveal the undersides of her bountiful bosom “Punch me in the stomach as hard as you want. Go on.”
“No thanks. I-I'm okay,” Lauren said as she began to blush and withdraw.
“That's probably smart,” Allison said as she sat down next to Lauren, their thighs touching. “Not only am I cut like a marble statue, I'm just as solid as one. Rick, do you know that the Lingster and I go way back? In fact, we were each other's first kiss, in third grade at camp Wannashaka.”
Lauren laughed and seemed to loosen up a bit. “Oh my God that was so long ago,” she said.
“All the girls used to play Truth or Dare in our cabins after lights out,” Allison said, her voice now light and friendly as she reminisced. “There was a lot of kissing. It was almost like Truth or Dare was just an excuse to make out with each other. How about you, Rick? Did the guys ever make out?”
“No,” I said, insecure about Allison's presence, especially that I now knew of her history with Lauren. “Guys don't do stuff like that, unless they're gay or forced into it. It's a testosterone thing.”
“I think it's more about sexual maturity,” Lauren said, suddenly engaged by the academic turn in the conversation. “Girls mature before guys, and our hormones go wild, but boys aren't ready for sex. I wanted to make out so badly, but the boys just wanted to play video games or talk about sports.”
“So as always, we girls had to take matters into our own hands,” Allison said. “Literally.”
Lauren giggled. “Well I guess it all worked out for the best,” she said as she took my hand. “I finally wound up with a great guy, so I don't have to trick people into kissing me anymore.”
“You never had to trick me,” Allison purred as she ran a fingernail up and down Lauren's thigh. “I was always happy to kiss you, even when you were a pudgy little dork. And If I had known that you would grow up to be such a curvy little fox, I would have locked you down in the 3rd grade.”
“Wait, you really do like girls?” Lauren asked. “So that thing you said about Rick's mom...”
“Let's just put it this way,” Allison said. I can tolerate hot dogs, but I prefer to eat clams.”
“That is so crude,” Lauren laughed. “You haven't changed a bit since 3rd grade! But I'm happy you're comfortable with your sexuality. I'll bet your a very... um... successful lesbian.”
“Oh I am, Lingster. I'm neck deep is pussy.” Allison smirked. “But I guess your pussy will always be the one that got away. Unless of course, you and Rick want some company tonight.”
“Stop playing around, Allison,” I said, coming to Lauren's rescue as she fidgeted nervously.
“Who's playing around?” Allison asked, raising her arm to adjust her hair and casually flexing the sculpted knots of muscle that were her biceps. “I am totally serious. What do you think, Lauren? You always said that you liked big muscles, and muscles don't get much bigger than mine.”
Lauren still held my hand, but her eyes were transfixed by Allison's flirtatious display of muscularity. “I-I really don't think we should,” she said, turning to me suddenly, as if she expected me say something. “I mean, if Rick wants to, maybe we could discuss it.”
Allison spoke before I could object. “Of course Rick wants to,” she said. “What guy wouldn't?”
“I mean, it doesn't hurt to just discuss it,” Lauren said quietly. “You know, positions and stuff.”
“You know-” I began.
“I have an idea,” Allison said, cutting me off. “We can settle this with a game of Truth or Dare.”
-
Part 4, Chapter 59
“Truth or Dare?” I asked skeptically. “Give me a break. That's for kids.”
“I mean, it could be kind of fun,” Lauren smiled. “I haven't played Truth or Dare in years.”
“I know!” Allison agreed, sitting down cross-legged, her thighs blooming with lumps of muscle and her calves ballooning as the muscles in her legs contracted. “It will be like being back at camp.”
Lauren sat down next to Allison and I grudgingly joined them in the circle. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, so that I kept centered and didn't lose my temper. I reminded myself that Lauren was a girl, and that as a girl she was easily swayed by confidence and muscles, two things that Allison had in abundance. I just had to show Lauren that Allison had a sinister agenda behind her offer of carefree sex. And I had a plan. “I'll go first,” I said. “Allison, truth or dare?” I asked.
“Truth,” Allison said, no doubt expecting that I would ask her to leave if she chose 'dare'.
I smiled. “Do you like to inflict pain on your lovers during sex, without their consent?” I asked.
Lauren's eyes opened wide with surprise, and she turned to Allison, eager to hear her answer. Allison smirked at me, as if acknowledging the cleverness of my question. “Well,” she said, “it depends. With men I do get pretty rough. With women I'm very gentle and very generous, letting their breath and their body guide me as we join together, our bodies tossed in a rolling sea of orgasm.”
“Whoa,” Lauren said as her face reddened.
“My turn,” Allison said, shooting me a gloating glance. “Lauren, truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Lauren said instantly, fidgeting with excitement.
“Let's see...” Allison said. “What would I have done at camp? I know. I dare you to kiss me.”
“Oh wow,” Lauren said, adjusting her glasses. “I guess I should have expected that.”
“I think you knew exactly what I was going to say,” Allison purred as she leaned forward.
Lauren was a little apprehensive as she leaned forward, her lips in an exaggerated pucker and her eyes closed. But as soon as her lips touched Allison's, she relaxed and melted, running her hands up and down Allison's ribs and lats, and their kiss grew more and more passionate until I wondered if it would ever stop. Finally, Allison pulled away. “You've gotten a lot better at kissing,” Lauren giggled as she blushed, tumescent nipples showing under her blouse.
“You too,” Allison said. “So what do you say, Lingster? How about a little girl-girl-guy?”
“I guess if you two really want to,” Lauren said blushing.
Allison spoke instantly. “Oh we do,” she cackled. “Last one to the bedroom has to clean up.”
Lauren was first up the stairs toward my room, and I turned to Allison. “I know what you're trying to do,” I hissed. “But I love Lauren, and I'm not going to let you take her away from me.”
“Really?” Allison laughed as she stepped out of her clothes. “How are you going to stop me?”
I swallowed hard. Allison was right. I was no match for her, physically or sexually. I just had to hope Lauren got her lesbian urges out of her system quickly, without damaging our relationship.
A few seconds later, we were all standing naked in my bedroom. “I think Rick should be on his back, with one of us on his cock and one of us on his face,” Allison said, stretching her legs as Lauren ogled her Olympian body. “By the way Lingster, leave your glasses on. Girls in glasses get me hot.”
Lauren looked to me as if she expected a reaction. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want a 3-way with Lauren and Allison, and I was struggling to find he right thing to say, but once again Allison spoke before I could. “I really do love your dick,” she said to me. “It's the perfect size and shape.”
A brief grimace crossed Lauren's face, and she turned to Allison. “You know, I have a different idea,” she said. “How about you and I start off together, one-on-one, and Rick can watch.”
“I think that's a great idea,” Allison purred, smirking as she pushed me onto the bed.
I tried to object, but Lauren leapt onto Allison, who in turn put her hands under Lauren's round ample butt and lifted her off the ground. “Your muscles are so big and so hot,” Lauren sighed.
“They're all yours, baby,” Allison said, holding my girlfriend aloft as if she were weightless, enjoying her adoration. “Touch them, kiss them, rub your body against them. Whatever you want.”
“I want to rub nipples,” Lauren said breathily. “I want to rub my nipples against yours.”
“I love that idea,” Allison said. “But it's going to be hard, because I'm so much taller than you.”
“Lie down,” Lauren panted. “Lie down and let me touch you. Let me touch you all over.”
A second later, Allison was stretched out on the floor, and Lauren was crawling on her legs, peppering her thighs and abs with kisses. “Ooh that's sexy,” Allison said. “You've done this before.”
“Mm hm,” Lauren agreed kissing her way up Allison's sleek muscle-etched torso.
I was sick with jealousy and cold with dread as I watched Lauren worship Allison's body, but I was also hard as a rock, my member fully engorged in the presence of two beautiful 18-year-old women grinding their naked bodies together. And when Lauren plopped her breasts down on top of Allison's, I nearly came just from the sight of it. “Your tits are huge,” Lauren said as she took Allison's breasts in her hands, and licked her nipples lovingly. “I think they get bigger every time I see you.”
“I'm up to a EE cup,” Allison said proudly, giggling as Lauren squeezed her breasts and pressed Allison's nipples against her own, their teats hardening as they flicked back and forth and rubbed together. “Ooh that's hot as fuck,” Allison said. “You've done this before.”
“Mm hm,” Lauren agreed as she began to grind her crotch against Allison's abs. “But what I really want is to rub our coochies together. I want to feel your clit against mine.”
“Little Lauren Ling,” Allison laughed as the two girls entwined their legs. “You sure have grown up. I never thought I would hear you say the word 'clit'. I can't believe you even know what a clit is.”
“Oh, I know all about clits,” Lauren purred as she began to wiggle her pelvis against Allison's. “I've spent a lot of time studying female anatomy for my pre-med. Especially the clitoral network.”
As I watched my curvy Asian girlfriend trib with my muscular redheaded ex, their hips pumping and their breasts bouncing, my erection was so hard that it was downright painful. “Ooh that's amazing,” Allison said as she ran her fingers through her hair. “You've definitely done this before.”
“Mm hm,” Lauren agreed as she began to gyrate her hips, her plump buttock pumping away.
Then Allison's eyes popped open. She started to moan as Lauren furiously ground their vulvas together. “Holy shit, Lauren,” Allison panted. “This is so intense. Slow down just a little bit.”
“Slow down?” Lauren chirped. “Why? I'm just getting started.”
“Oh my God. Hold up, Lingster,” Allison groaned as Lauren rose up on her knees, bending Allison's pelvis upward and bearing down heavily. “It feels so good that it hurts. Please... stop.”
“Oh it hurts does it?” Lauren jeered as she adjusted her glasses. “Am I a little too much for you? Well maybe you should have thought about that before you tried to steal my boyfriend!”
“No,” Allison pleaded. “I wanted to steal you, not him. I swear I... oh fuck that feels so good.”
“You are such a liar!” Lauren hissed as she continued to grind into Allison, their young bodies now beading with sweat. “I saw the way you looked at Rick, and heard what you said about his dick.”
“It's not like that,” Allison gulped. “I wanted you, not him... oh God my clit is going to explode!”
“You haven't changed at all since we were kids,” Lauren growled as she wiggled her hips. “You're always trying to manipulate people. So you showed up flexing your big sexy muscles, and your big sexy tits hanging out, because you knew that would get me wet. And you said all those nice things about me because you know I have self-esteem issues. But you can't fool me! You just wanted to pick on me, like you always did, and fuck my boyfriend. You two probably never even broke up!”
“No Lauren,” Allison begged. “It's not like that... I just... I just I wanted your pussy...”
Allison tried to scoot away across the floor, but Lauren moved with her, graceful and perfectly balanced as she continued to rhythmically thrust her sex against Allison's, until Allison was wedged into the corner of the room. “Well, now you've got my pussy,” Lauren taunted. “Unfortunately it looks like you can't handle it. And now I can reach your nipples, too. I wonder what I should do with them?”
“Lauren please...” Allison begged, but her voice turned into a howling moan as Lauren began to twist her erect nipples and roll them around expertly in her delicate Asian fingers.
Allison screamed as she gushed all over Lauren and herself, and her muscular body fell limp and powerless to the floor, her eyes rolled back into her head and her limbs twitching.
Lauren stood up casually, as if fucking a gorgeous amazon into submission was an ordinary occurrence for her. “Lauren that was amazing,” I gasped, sitting up. “You broke her like a wild horse.”
Lauren didn't respond. Instead her lips began to tremble. “I thought you loved me,” she said.
“Of course I love you,” I said. “I never wanted a 3-way. I actually wanted her to leave.”
A tear rolled down Lauren's cheek as she climbed onto the bed, and she removed her glasses for just a second to wipe it away. “I probably should have told you that I'm super good at sex,” she said. “But you were so generous and gentle. I wanted to take it easy with you.” Lauren's face turned into a scowl as she lowered herself onto my swollen member. “But now I'm through being nice.”
-
Hmm, can any girl in a grbaclig universe story be just straight? Would that be too much to ask? I am not against homosexual women, mind you, but as a straight guy, I was happy that Rick had found someone who didn't seem to be swayed by Kylie's muscles, so she would be Rick's true one, though I guess with the end it seems like she still loves Rick, it was still looking like she might go with Allison if Allison wanted her enough. So it was good to see that in the end, Rick and Lauren are still together. As for Kylie wanting all those jewels and all that gold, that is kind of strange, I was figuring that she was going to go after more gold belts in boxing and wrestling, but this wasn't what I had in mind, which I guess is good, it kept me guessing. Anyway, I look forward to seeing where the story goes from here, worth the wait! k+!
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The Lingster, my hero haha. This story took a very interesting turn, well done.
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Part 4, Chapter 60
As soon as I felt the tender walls of Lauren's vagina embrace my unit, I began to erupt, but to my horror her vaginal walls clamped down like a vice, and my ejaculation stopped in its tracks, causing burning pain in my loins. “Lauren please,” I said, my fists and jaw clenching. “It... hurts.”
“You have no idea what real hurting is, Rick!” Lauren yelled. “You broke my heart! I put myself on the line for you, but you just wanted to play with me like a toy, you and your slutty girlfriend!”
“She's not my girlfriend!” I implored, my loins reeling from Lauren's vaginal gymnastics.
Lauren sat atop me, hands on hips, scowling down at me through her tears, her pelvis gyrating with metronomic precision as she used her vagina to contort my penis in ways I could never have imagined, as I careened from pleasure to pain at her slightest whim. “Such great ecstacy, followed by such great agony,” she sobbed. “What I'm putting you through now is only a fraction of what you put me through tonight. I thought you had matured in high school, Rick, but you're still a stuck-up jerk!”
“No,” I pleaded, struggling to form words as the room began to spin. “You're acting crazy...”
“Oh I'm just a crazy irrational woman, getting carried away with her feelings, huh? Is that it?” Lauren demanded. “Well let me show you just how crazy I can get!”
Then Lauren rolled backward, her body nestling between my splayed legs. The vice-like grip of her vaginal muscles on my cock kept our pelvises smashed together, so I had no choice but to sit up as she rocked backward, and when she pressed her shoulders into the mattress and began to raise her hips into the air, I had no choice but to let my body rise into the air, too. The with one smooth motion, Lauren spread her legs and pressed herself up into a handstand, balancing perfectly on the mattress as her body took the shape of a 'Y', with my body balanced precariously within it.
I tried to keep balanced, to avoid tumbling out of Lauren's cradled legs, but Lauren's hips and groin were still slick with sweat and ejaculate from her encounter with Allison, and my body slipped forward and backward, pulling painfully on my cock, which was still held tight by Lauren's impossibly powerful vulva. “Please stop,” I gasped. “How are you even doing this?”
“I already told you,” Lauren snapped . “I'm super good at sex. I can do things you can't even dream of. I was going to show you, little by little. It was going to be fun. But I'm through being nice!”
Then Lauren began to pick up and put down her hands as she moved in a circular pattern, until she was spinning like a top, my helpless body spinning around like the propeller of a helicopter as the nerves in my groin were overwhelmed with sensation, and my brain began to flash with lights and sounds like a pinball machine as I started to black out. “Please Lauren!” I cried. “Let me go!”
“Okay, you asked for it,” Lauren jeered.
And then Lauren relaxed her pelvic muscles, the pressure on my penis disappeared, and I flew across the room, ejaculate trailing behind me as the most powerful orgasm of my life tore through my body. I slammed into the far corner of the room, crashing to the floor next to Allison as loose items from my bookshelf fell down upon me. My body was cold and hot at the same time, and my midsection was so weak that I couldn't move my legs or my torso, leaving me helpless on the floor as Lauren slowly walked toward me. “I can't believe I was stupid enough to let you into my heart, Rick O'Reilly,” she said, sniffling as tears continued to roll down her cheeks. “Is this what you two do for fun? You find an innocent girl and then you play around with her like she's a toy or something?”
“No,” I pleaded. “You've got it all wrong. I didn't want this, I just couldn't think of what to say.”
But Lauren wasn't listening. “Unfortunately for you both, I'm not that innocent,” she said as she began to rub her fingers along her labia. “My lady flower is like a sleeping dragon, Rick. And you woke the dragoness. And now that she's awake, she needs to be fed. And you two look delicious.”
“Oh God no,” Allison said, gulping and shaking. “No more Lauren, please. My clit is on fire.”
“I think you broke my dick,” I said. “It's never going to get hard again.”
Lauren moved Allison and I, adjusting our helpless bodies, so that our heads were pointed in opposite directions and our legs intertwined. Then she lowered herself onto my flaccid unit. “You're dick will get as hard as I want,” she snarled.
“No please!” I begged as her labia began to ripple and undulate, and hardened against my will.
“And as for you,” she said to Allison, “I have something wet to put on that fiery clit of yours.”
“No please!” Allison begged as Lauren put her face into Allison's crotch, and started licking.
“Scream all you want,” Lauren growled. “That will make my revenge taste even sweeter.”
“Oh fuck me!” Allison shrieked as her back arched and her limbs stiffened, her body spasming with each stroke of Lauren's tongue. “How... How are you... How are you so good at eating pussy?”
I wasn't faring much better than Allison, as the wriggling velvety-soft warmth of Lauren's vagina coaxed blood back into my bruised and battered member. I looked around the room, trying to distract myself from the pain of my rapidly hardening penis. As I glanced in the mirror directly in front of me, I saw Lauren's face as she tore into Allison with her tongue, her eyes shining with malevolence behind her glasses. Then Lauren's eyes locked on something else, a small clamshell box with her name on it, which had fallen from the top of my bookshelf and landed on the floor when she threw me across the room. “What's that?” Lauren asked, sitting up. “Why does it have my name on it?”
Allison and I both gasped with relief as the bespectacled Asian nymphomaniac paused her sexual onslaught to pick up and open the box. “It's an engagement ring,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “I was going to propose... on July 4... picnic... with the fireworks... because I love you.”
Lauren took the small, inexpensive ring from the box, and handled it carefully, as if it were precious and delicate. Then her eyes began to brim with tears, thick round tears of joy, instead of the thin streaking tears of heartache that had previously marked her face. “What have I done?” she squeaked. “Oh Rick, I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what came over me. I just love you so much, and I'm so afraid of losing you. When I saw you and Allison together, I didn't know what to think. I just snapped.”
“It's my fault,” I said. “I should have said something. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything. And I would never do anything to hurt you, because I'm afraid of losing you, too.”
“Oh Rick!” Lauren sobbed as she fell onto my torso and wrapped her arms around me. “How could I ever doubt your love? How could I ever unleash my dragoness on you? You must think I'm some jealous psycho nympho... thing. Oh I would love to marry you, if only you still wanted me!”
“Of course I still want you,” I said, flopping my useless arms around Lauren in an embrace, as she squeezed me tight and kissed my neck and shoulders. “I could never stop loving you.”
“All I wanted was sex,” Allison groaned. “Cheap... hot... meaningless... sex. But not like this...”
It wasn't until the next morning that Allison and I were able to move again, and it took us several minutes to haul our aching bodies down the stairs, down into the den where Lauren had breakfast waiting for us. “Good morning,” Lauren sang as she loaded our breakfasts onto TV trays. “Sorry again about last night. I thought you might be a little bit too sore to sit on the chairs at the dining room table, so we can have breakfast on the couch. And I brought you ice packs.”
“Thanks, Mrs. O'Reilly,” I smiled as I carefully lowered myself into the couch.
“Holy shit, Lingster,” Allison sighed. “Where the hell did you learn how do... all that?”
Lauren blushed. “Well, I've always had an overactive libido,” she said nervously. “But I never got any time alone with guys, because my parents were so controlling, and also because I was... you know... ugly. So I spent every free hour locked in my room studying sex, reading anatomy books, watching pornography, and practicing on myself. And well, practice makes perfect I guess.”
“Just so I know,” I asked carefully “Are you into girls? Because I fully support exploring sexual boundaries, but-”
“Let's put it this way,” Lauren said with a wink. “I can tolerate clams, but I prefer hot dogs.”
We all laughed, but hearing Lauren talk about her sexuality was causing an uncomfortable stirring in my tender loins, so I turned on the TV. And as soon as I did, our chatter stopped.
The previous night had seen a global crime wave break out, as girls and women across the globe robbed jewelry stores and banks in order to bring Kylie the lucre that she had requested. Scenes of broken windows and overturned armored cars filled the screen. “Several suspects were seen going into Ms. O'Reilly's palatial estate,” the newscaster said. “She has been cooperating with authorities, but searches of her property have returned neither the criminals, nor the stolen goods.”
Behind the press conference Kylie's Palace of Pump rose high into the air, surrounded by 12-foot walls of gleaming white, its golden gates were crowded with women of all ages bearing gifts of gold and jewels for Kylie. “It's a cult,” I said. “My little sister is a cult leader.”
“I don't think so,” Lauren said. “Cult leaders are secretive, physically frail loners who steal from their cult members. Kylie is boastful, she's super-strong, she's always in the public eye fighting someone or destroying something, and she steals from banks and private citizens.”
“Oh my God,” I said as a horrifying realization set in. “My little sister is a super-villain.”
-
Wow, that took a really weird and different turn, I mean I like it, I like the fact that Lauren seems to be really strong for her size, as she doesn't seem to be that muscular at all, but she was able to both physically and sexually dominate Rick and Allison at the same time, which is awesome to me. And yeah, he might be right, Kylie probably is a super villainess, which may point to Superman trying to stop her, and finding out he may have bitten off more than he can chew...oh this is getting good! k+!
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Quite a few plot points crammed into that one. Kylie's gone off the deep end it seems.
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Nice story about Lauren. Hoping for more.
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Part 4, Chapter 61
“Whatever,” Allison scoffed. “Kylie's totally a force for good. You're just nervous about living in a world where women are equal to men, or maybe even superior. It's a classic case of Hooter Envy.”
“There's no such thing as Hooter Envy,” I objected. “Kylie just made that up like a month ago!”
“Uh yeah, and now everyone is saying it,” Allison said. “Besides, if Kylie was a super-villain, she wouldn't be cooperating with the police. She'd be fighting them, or bribing them, or something.”
Just then the newscast cut to a press conference with a beautiful female FBI agent, complete with navy blazer and dark glasses, and a caption below her reading 'Hannah Hill, Federal Bureau of Investigation'. Behind her stood uniformed law officers from various police departments and government agencies, and oddly enough, they were all beautiful women as well. “Ms. O'Reilly has been very cooperative,” Hannah Hill said, as the uniformed women behind her giggled. “The members of our task force have investigated Ms. O'Reilly very thoroughly, and very vigorously. In fact, we investigated her all night long, until we were so exhausted that we could barely move.”
“Is it just me, or did that sound kind of sexual?” Lauren asked.
“We've been over every inch of Ms. O'Reilly's body, and I'm happy to report that we have no reason to suspect her of any wrongdoing.” Hannah Hill continued, smiling dreamily, until a policewoman whispered in her ear and she hopped back onto the microphone. “I'm sorry, I misspoke. I meant to say that we've been over every inch of Ms. O'Reilly's... um... property. Her beautiful, bountiful, powerful property... nubile and resplendent as it stretched out naked in the sun...”
“I guess you don't have to bribe the police if you can seduce them,” I sniped at Allison.
“Well,” Allison said with a grumble. “I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this.”
A few hours later, Allison and Lauren had both gone home, and I was nursing my aching groin on the couch when mom burst through the door with her arms full of streamers and ribbons. Dad followed behind her carrying a cake nearly as big as he was. “Oh I'm so excited,” mom sang.
“What's the occasion?” I asked.
“Oh Rick, surely you remember your sister's birthday, mom said. “She's turning 14 tomorrow, and we're going to have a party for her like we always do.”
“She probably won't show up,” I said. “I'm sure she's busy counting her gold and jewels.”
“Wrong-o, mister,” mom scolded. “Kylie said that she wants to have a party here with us before she goes to the party that her little friends are throwing for her. She's so good to the family.”
I didn't get much sleep that night. I wasn't worried about myself, because I knew I could stay boring so Kylie would find someone else to pick on. I was worried about Lauren. The night before, Allison had talked about how Lauren was attracted to muscles. And if she melted for Allison, how would she react to my kid sister, the most muscular person on earth? I couldn't survive seeing Lauren succumb to Kylie like Allison and Princess Honey had, so I decided not to invite her over tomorrow.
The next day flew by, and before I knew it I was standing in the kitchen with mom and dad. Mom was a flurry of activity, running around the house in a polka-dot cocktail dress making last minute adjustments to the decorations, and ordering dad around the kitchen. Allison arrived shortly thereafter, her amazonian body bulging out of a low cut red minidress that was so tight that I could see her chiseled abs, dimpled glutes, and perky nipples. In one hand she carried a small package wrapped in shimmering white paper, tied in a shimmering pink bow. Mom rushed forward to greet Allison, a lascivious twinkle in her eye, and Allison turned to me. “Rick could you hold this for me?” she asked. “I have to get a little sugar. And be careful, it's a really expensive gift.”
As I took the small box from Allison, I had to brace myself. Despite being no bigger than a box of tissues, it weighed at least 40 pounds. “Geez Allison, what's in here?” I grunted.
“Gold, of course,” Allison said as she pulled my mom close, and kissed her deeply on the lips.
Then the doorbell rang. Since everyone else was busy, I got the door, and to my shock I saw Lauren waving at me through the door. “What are you doing here?” I asked as I let her in.
“Um... nice to see you, too?” she said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I just didn't expect you, is all,” I said nervously. “You look really nice.”
“Thanks!” Lauren said, curtsying in her light blue summer dress. “Your mom called and said that I should come over for Kylie's birthday. I wasn't so sure, but she said it would mean a lot to you.”
“Wait, my mom said what?” I asked, not sure if I had heard her clearly.
“Oh and I brought a present,” Lauren said, awkwardly presenting a tiny pink ring box. “I didn't want to bring anything, but my mom was really eager to buy something for Kylie. She's a big fan. But I have to admit I'm a little nervous. I just hope this party doesn't get... you know.. weird.”
“You can leave if you want,” I said. “I didn't want to invite you, and I don't even want to be here myself.”
As I led Lauren into the den, she froze in her tracks, her eyes wide with surprise as she saw my mom entwined with Allison in a lusty embrace. Allison cackled with glee as she pulled down the front of mom's cocktail dress, her gigantic J cup breasts spill out into Allison's waiting hands. “Oh wow, those are boobs,” Lauren said in shock, turning on her heels to avert her gaze from the sapphic tableau. “Those are totally your mom's boobs. Just... you know... hanging out there.”
“Oh and there's Lauren!” mom sang as she stuffed her tits back into her dress, her heels clattered as she ran to greet my girlfriend, who stared in awe at the enormous breasts bouncing toward her. “And she brought a gift for Kylie! Oh and your dress is just darling!”
“Thanks?” Lauren said uneasily as mom hugged her, smooshing Lauren into her colossal rack.
I was preparing to escort Lauren out the back door to safety when a gleaming white humvee, laden with gold trim roared into the driveway. A second later, Kylie glided elegantly out of the driver's seat, her white and gold outfit glowing so brightly in the summer sun that it was nearly blinding.
Kylie had grown an inch or so since I saw her last, and she was so wide that she had to turn to fit through the front door, and so busty that she barely fit. She was wearing her most modest outfit, the flowing white chiffon robe that fastened around her left shoulder with a gold broach, which I had last seen when we visited her at her Palace of Pump, when she broke Princess Honey. The robe was cut like a ancient Greek toga, and despite being translucent enough to show off her hourglass figure, it revealed mercifully little skin, showing only the swollen muscularity of her titanic right arm, and the massive knots of striated muscle where her right arm met her deltoids and pectoral.
Kylie had accessorized her rather simple dress with a pair of golden gladiator sandals, an elaborate necklace of braided gold and multicolored gems, and an assortment of opulent bracelets and rings. Her blonde tresses were piled up high on her head, conspicuously perfect as they spilled out over a gaudily bejeweled golden tiara. “Happy birthday to my perfect little princess!” mom sang as she ran forward to embrace Kylie. “Oh Kylie, thank you so much for coming by. I know you're super busy with all of the incredible things that you're doing!”
“Hi Kylie,” Allison said meekly. “Being at your birthday party is the biggest honor of my life.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said, brushing past Allison as she stalked toward me and Lauren. “And who is this? Rick, do you actually have a real girlfriend, for a change? She's a total snack, too.”
“Hi Kylie,” Lauren said uneasily, visibly shaken by my kid sister's immense muscularity. “I'm Lauren. Lauren Ling. I-I think we had some classes together in grade school or something.”
“The Lingster?” Kylie asked, eyeing Lauren up and down. “Wow, you really had a glow up.”
“Um, thanks,” Lauren said nervously. “You look... um... really elegant. Like a Greek goddess.”
“Thanks for noticing,” Kylie said. “That's totally what I was going for.”
“Oh that dress is so beautiful,” mom doted. “We'll have to be careful with the chocolate cake.”
“Obviously I'm going to take it off,” Kylie said. “The world needs to see my perfect body.”
With one smooth motion, Kylie unhooked her robe and tossed it toward the coatrack, where it draped perfectly over an empty hook. Beneath the flowing chiffon robe and she was wearing the same skimpy outfit that she wore when Princess honey crawled at her feet: a thin gold chain slung around her hips fro which dangled a narrow strip of cloth, and a halter of gold chains and white silk that cradled her boobs like a sling while leaving her back bare. “Holy fuck,” Allison sighed.
Spying the mirror in the den, Kylie folded her arms behind her head and flexed her abs. She smiled at her reflected muscularity as she studied the inch-deep cuts that divided the thick cubes of her abdominal muscles from the bulging curls of her obliques and the rippling symphony of her serratus muscles. Kylie giggled as she lifted her voluminous breasts to better view her eight-pack, her high-pitched laugh serving as a reminder that the impossibly musclebound hulk before us was a girls celebrating her 14th birthday.
As we stared in awe at her, Kylie basked in our attention. Once again, it was all about her.
-
Here I was hoping that Lauren's past with Kylie might influence her not to completely melt in Kylie's presence, but I guess I may have gotten my hopes too high as I see that she has seemingly become if not smitten, than at least uneasy with Kylie's incredible physique. Though maybe it could be a situation that I have seen in some other stories by you, perhaps Kylie is not physically conquerable, but she might be beaten sexually by Lauren. Though I don't know, perhaps Lauren's sexual prowess could be overmatched by Kylie's sexual abilities. But whatever happens, I look forward to more. k+!
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I hope Lauren doesn't leave Rick for Kylie. Seeing how many bad things happened to him because of her was starting to make the story feel legitimately depressing to read. Please let him have this one thing.
I'm glad we finally saw the setup for the Kylie vs Superman matchup I hoped the story would lead up to.
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You got me hooked on this birthday bit, can't wait to see how it all plays out.
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I too am worried about how this turns out, since I want Rick to not be constantly screwed over by his terrible-of-a-person sister. He’s the POV character, so of course we the readers sympathize with him.
That said, the last line of the current chapter is out of place, since it *is* Kylie’s birthday. It’s the one time it all being about her should be most normal.
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"She's so good to the family" sounds mafia-esque.
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Part 4, Chapter 62
Mom and Allison fawned over Kylie as she continued to examine herself in the mirror, and I took Lauren into the den. “I'm sorry,” I said to Lauren, who looked bewildered by what she had seen. “Everything got super weird, super quick. It always does around here. My family is so messed up.”
“You didn't do anything wrong,” Lauren said uneasily. “Every family has issues, after all.”
“We can totally leave,” I said. “They won't even notice that we're gone.”
“No,” Lauren said, clenching her fists in resolve. “We're going to be husband and wife, and we're going to have see your family on holidays, at least. I need to get used to... all this... whatever this is. Besides, I brought a gift and the cake looks really good, and I told your mom I would come.”
I took Lauren in my arms. “No matter what happens, remember that I love you,” I said.
Lauren picked up on my nervousness immediately. “Why are you so worried?” she asked.
I took a deep breath. “I don't want Kylie to steal you away from me,” I said.
Lauren scrunched up her nose. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Like, romantically?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” I said. “But she has this power over women. She made mom and Allison completely crazy, and I didn't tell you because it's super weird, and I didn't know what to say.”
Lauren took my hand, and smiled. “It's going to be okay,” she said. “First, the women who are obsessed with Kylie are damaged and emotionally unstable, and in case you haven't noticed, I totally have my act together. Second, your mom has always been crazy, and Allison too. Everyone in town knows that. Third, I'm not going to leave you for a middle school girl. There are so many things wrong with that scenario that I don't even know where to begin.”
I took a deep breath. “So you don't find Kylie attractive?” I asked.
Lauren looked into the front room, where Kylie was still looking in the mirror, flexing her muscles. “I'm not going to lie,” Lauren said. “Women are wired to like muscles, and I can't just turn off that instinct. So yeah, if I was going to leave you for a criminally under-aged girl, it would be Kylie.”
“Oh Jesus,” I moaned.
“But I won't leave you, Rick,” Lauren said, shaking me playfully. “Listen to me. I love dick. I love it. And I love your dick most of all, and I'm not going to give it up for anything in the world.”
I embraced Lauren for what seemed like an hour, overcome with gratitude as she patted my back. “Come on you two lovebirds,” mom sang as she ran into the den. “We're having cake.”
As we sat around the table enjoying Kylie's cake, an uncomfortable silence filled the room, as if we were all afraid to talk without Kylie's permission, which I guess we kind of were. Finally, mom spoke up. “Kylie I just love your car!” she said. “When did you start driving?”
“Last week,” Kylie said. “Everyone freaked out because I'm not old enough, but it's totally easy to drive any car at any speed in any conditions. I'm going to enter the Indy 500 this year.”
“How are you going to fit all those muscles in one of those tiny cars?” Allison wondered aloud.
“That's up to the nerds in my engineering division,” Kylie said with a shrug. “If they can't figure it out, I'll just enter without a car. I should probably do more cardio anyway.”
“Kylie, you can't outrun race cars on foot,” dad said incredulously. “I mean, there are 500 laps.”
Kylie's fork snapped like a toothpick in her fingers as her jaw set and her muscles began to swell and flex with anger. “What did you just say?” she growled, turning her burning gaze on dad.
“I-I didn't mean to say that,” dad blurted out as he began to tremble. “Please forgive me, Kylie. I was being foolish. You can do anything that you want to, Kylie. Please don't hurt me!”
Mom instantly gave Kylie a new fork. “Oh Kylie, I forgot to tell you that your presents are in the den,” she said, trying to soothe Kylie's anger. “Of course, we all know that you can buy anything you want, because you're so successful, but we wanted to show you how much we appreciate you.”
“Let's open presents, then,” Kylie said, glaring at dad. “This cake tastes sour all of a sudden.”
Kylie opened her presents with ruthless efficiency, tossing most of them aside, until only Lauren's and Allison's presents remained. Kylie opened Lauren's ring box, and smiled. “Finally,” she said as she took the small gold ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. “It's about time that someone actually listened to me. I just love the way gold sparkles. Thanks, Lingster.”
“You're welcome,” Lauren said flatly, looking at the floor to seem as boring as possible.
Next Kylie opened Allison's present, and her eyes lit up instantly. “This is exactly what I wanted,” Kylie said with a smile as she took a brick of gold out of the box. “Thanks, Fleabites.”
“I wish there was more,” Allison said. “I would give you all the gold in the world if I could.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said as she turned the gold brick over and over in her hands, smiling.
“Oh there's an inscription on it!” mom beamed. “What a lovely touch. What does it say?”
Dad read the inscription aloud. “It says, '20 kilos, 99.99% pure, property of United States Mint'.”
“That's like $200,000 in gold!” Lauren blurted out. “Did you rob a bank or something?”
“None of your business,” Allison snapped. “I just found it... um... at the mall... on sale.”
“Kylie,” dad said cautiously. “I-I don't want to make you angry, but it's illegal for you to have that gold bar. That carving means that it belongs to the government, and that it's not for sale.”
Kylie's spun toward dad, her eyes burning with anger, and as she walked toward him he shrank into the corner of the den. “This carving here?” Kylie asked, as she held the gold bar up to his face.
The sound of squealing metal filled the air as the gold brick began to squish like putty between Kylie's slender fingers, as she squeezed it into an unrecognizable blob, her body showing no sign of effort except for the rippling of her volleyball-sized forearm. “Did I really just see that?” Lauren asked.
“What does that carving say now, daddy?” Kylie spat.
We all stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, at the most recent demonstration of Kylie's strength. But she was unmoving, glaring at my father as if awaiting his response. Dad was shaking with fear, but before he could answer, the front door slammed so loudly that we all jumped in fear, except for Kylie of course, who registered only a slight look of annoyance. “Oh look who it is!” mom called.
My blood ran cold as I saw Lola Lopez stomp into the den, wearing a flimsy floral print summer dress that was cut to her navel and vented to the thigh, her muscle-wrapped legs pumping and her big honey-brown boobs bouncing wildly about, and Allison's daisy-shaped earrings sparkled in her ears.
“Who is that?” Lauren whispered. “And why is she so angry?”
Angry was an understatement. Lola's face was red and her teeth were bared as she held up a fistful of colorful fabric. “Kylie!” she shouted as she stomped toward my sister. “What the hell is this!?”
“Those are panties,” Kylie said matter-of-factly.
“And to whom do they belong?” Lola asked, clenching the fabric so hard that her bicep swelled into a ball of muscle so shredded and perfectly defined that it looked like it would pop off her arm.
“The pink pair belong to Princess Honey,” Kylie said as she examined the balled-up fabric. “The black pair belong to some FBI agent, the red pair belong to this ice skater I met last week, and the green pair belong to the First Lady of some European country―I forget which one.”
Lola threw the panties angrily to the ground. “You're sleeping with other women?” she asked.
“Of course,” Kylie said. “Why wouldn't I?”
Tears began to run down Lola's face, leaving trails in her mascara as her face softened into a frown. “Because we're in a relationship?” Lola whimpered. “Because you love me?”
Lola was trembling with emotion as Kylie took her around the waist and drew her close. “Lola honey,” Kylie sighed. “I'm a goddess, and goddesses take whatever, or whoever, they want.”
Lola's face hardened into a scowl. “You are not a goddess!” she barked. “You are just a spoiled, selfish girl who treats people like dirt! You think you can treat people badly, just because you have a pretty face, and big tetas, and big muscles... muscles that... muscles that should be all mine...”
Lola collapsed against Kylie, sobbing, her face buried in Kylie's cleavage and her hands grasping at the thick cables of muscle in Kylie's pecs. As Lola continued to cry, Lauren whispered to me. “Okay you were right, we should have left,” she said. “This is too much.”
“We can sneak around to the right and leave through the garage,” I whispered back.
Kylie stroked Lola's hair. “Are you all done?” she asked flatly. “Because I have like 4 other birthday parties to go to today, and I think you're invited to 2 of them.”
Lola growled with anger as she pulled away from Kylie, stepping backward and inadvertently cutting off our escape route. “How can you be so cruel?” Lola snarled.
“Because you love it,” Kylie purred, leaning forward. “When I get mean, you get moist.”
Lola's lips curled with anger for a split second, then she slapped Kylie on the cheek so hard that the force of the blow sent wrapping paper flying around the room like tumbleweeds in a tornado.
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I too am worried about how this turns out, since I want Rick to not be constantly screwed over by his terrible-of-a-person sister. He’s the POV character, so of course we the readers sympathize with him.
That said, the last line of the current chapter is out of place, since it *is* Kylie’s birthday. It’s the one time it all being about her should be most normal.
I have to say I'm a bit flattered at how strongly people feel for Rick's plight. Either I did a good job at making him pitiable, or I did a good job at making Kylie a bitch. Either way, rest assured that Lauren is different from the other women in the story for a reason. I didn't build her out that way just to turn her into another thrall for Kylie.
And good point about the birthday. Even bullies and super villains have birthdays. :)
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Hmm, I wonder if Kylie could actually beat cars in a 500 lap race barefoot, I have no doubt that she would win if she was driving, I think she is good at no matter what she attempts to do whenever she tries something new. I mean if she embarked on a musical career, she'd be outselling Princess Honey in short order. Which I would enjoy seeing as I am a fan of all things about female superiority, especially when dealing with younger females. So yeah, I look forward to seeing Kylie break more records, in whatever she attempts to break them. k+!
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Can't wait to read what Lauren has in mind. Think she is following a hidden agenda to stop Kylie.
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Wasn't too much into all of the fighting stuff, but absolutely love these demonstrations of raw strength. The trick with the gold bar was absolutely amazing!
It's crazy how I pity Rick, yet love it as Kylie abuses him directly by taunting him with her superhuman strength.
Incredible writing!
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Part 4, Chapter 63
Lauren looked to me, as if for a cue on how to react. But mom, dad, and I were all aghast with shock, terrified how how Kylie might react to being challenged so directly. Allison, on the other hand, tensed like an angry dog. “That little bitch!” Allison spat. “How dare she do that to Kylie?”
Lola didn't hear her. Instead she curled her hands into fists and kicked off her heels. Kylie smiled as she caressed her cheek. “A little foreplay?” she teased. “I do like when you get rough.”
“Give me one reason not to hit you,” Lola said venomously as she removed her dress, now wearing nothing but a a pair of scant yellow panties and Allison's earrings. “Just one reason.”
“Because you'll hurt your hand,” Kylie said nonchalantly.
“Have you forgotten who you're talking to?” Lola snarled as she kicked out her left leg and flexed her softball-sized biceps, every muscle in her 13-year-old body visible beneath her honey-brown skin, rippling with development and conditioning that would humble a professional bodybuilder. “Do you think that you can scoff at my power as if I were one of the weakling males that you toy with?”
“Um yeah,” Kylie said, raising her arms in a myth pose, her overlarge muscles hardening into sculpted slabs of feminine power beneath her golden brown skin, as she studied herself in a nearby mirror. “I mean, just look at all this muscle. I am absolutely perfect. No wonder I get so many girls.”
“You bitch!” Lola cried, as she shot forward like a blur.
Kylie was still marveling at her physique in the mirror when Lola crashed into her, and scooped her legs up in a takedown attempt that would have made any Olympic wrestler nod in admiration. Kylie crashed to the floor, her massive body slamming loudly enough to shake the walls, with her spurned girlfriend on top of her, wrapped around her colossal legs.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I had seen Kylie get into dozens of fights over the past few years, and I had never seen her get taken down cleanly. Even in her fight against 3 UFC champions, where she was blindfolded with one arm tied behind her back, her opponents had resorted to trickery to get her off her feet. Lola slithered up Kylie's body, her chiseled buttocks pumping and her cabled legs flexing as she passed Kylie's guard and climbed into the mount position. “No way,” Allison gasped.
Kylie smiled easily as her cool confident stare met Lola's fiery maniacal gaze. “Ooh I love when you're on top,” Kylie giggled. “Is this my birthday present?”
“How dare you mock me!” Lola screamed. “I'll kill you! And while I kill you, I'll fuck you, so that no other woman can ever have you again!”
Lauren's eyes popped open. “Oh wow,” she said. “Did she... did she actually just say that?”
Mom patted Lauren on her back. “Oh that's just Lola, our little Latina firecracker. They're a very passionate people, you know. But before you know it, those two lovebirds will kiss and make up.”
But a loving reconciliation seemed remote as, with a cry of rage, Lola swung her fists down like hammers into Kylie's massive pectorals, with enough force to shake the room. If Kylie was hurt, she wasn't showing it, instead she calmly covered her face with her muscle-packed forearms as Lola began to rain punches down, striking Kylie dozens of times on the arms and chest. “That bitch!,” Allison snarled, and took off her shoes. “She can't do that to Kylie!”
Mom gently put her arm around Allison's waist. “Now now dear,” mom said. ”You have to let young people work out their problems on their own. They just need to get this out of their system.”
Allison had a look of concern on her face, but she stood down, watching as Lola continued to throw punch after punch into Kylie's massively muscled physique. And soon, Lola began to wince, her knuckles red and bleeding from their repeated impact with Kylie's rock-hard musculature. Lola paused now, sweat beading on her honey-brown skin and running down the striated contours of her shredded physique, her oversized EE cup breasts rising and falling as she panted, partly from exhaustion and partly from anger. Kylie purred as she began to trace her fingers up Lola's rippling abdomen. “You're so beautiful when you're angry,” she said.
“Enjoy gazing upon my beautiful face,” Lola barked as she grabbed Kylie around the neck, her forearms blooming with veins and her triceps popping with definition. “It will be the last thing you see!”
Kylie remained unruffled. “Only if I can take my eyes off these jugs of yours,” she said, stroking Lola's nipples with her fingertips. “You're showing some seriously hot underboob right now.”
“Don't you touch me!” Lola growled as she stopped strangling Kylie and snatched her wrists. “I'm not your plaything! Not anymore!”
“Oh, don't stop now, baby,” Kylie cooed. “You know how I love it when you choke me.”
“Don't you dare mock me!” Lola bellowed, at least to the extent that her girly voice would allow.
Growling like a wild animal, Lola buried her head in pillowy mass of Kylie's right breast, using her tongue and teeth to navigate past the gold chains and white silk to Kylie's areloa.
“Ooh that's it baby, chew on my nipples,” Kylie purred. “Worship my perfect tits.”
“No no no,” Dad whimpered as he covered his eyes. “Not in my den. This is so immoral.”
“I... Oh wow...” Lauren stammered, adjusting her glasses. “Should we be watching this?
“Oh hell yes,” Allison purred as she rubbed her crotch through the tight red fabric of her dress.
Then, all of a sudden, Kylie shrieked in pain, and we all looked at each other in startled confusion. I had known Kylie her entire life, and she had never shown a single sign of weakness, not when she collided with older kids in sporting events, not when she shoveled the driveway in her bikini on the coldest day of the year, not even when Kevin King and his gang struck her with axe handles and baseball bats. For the first time in her life, Kylie had shown a sign of vulnerability, and she wasn't happy about it. “Did you just bite me!?” Kylie roared, kipping up off the ground, the force of her explosive ascent hurling Lola across the den like a rock from a catapult. “Did you just bite my nipple?”
“Some goddess you are,” Lola hissed, pulling herself to her feet, “You cried out like a little girl.”
Kylie stalked toward Lola, her shadow spreading over the wall like a dark cloud as her hulking immensity loomed over the busty young Latina. Kylie's muscles were contracting and bulging with perfect synchronicity as she clenched her fists, tensed her legs, and rolled her shoulders. Her huge meaty buttocks kneaded and her thick expansive pectorals throbbed. “Little?' Kylie snarled as she scooped Lola up and hugged her to her chest. “I am not little. I have the biggest muscles on earth!”
Kylie's left hand was clamped around Lola's left elbow, restraining her left arm even as her right was pinned helplessly against Kylie's body. Kylie's right hand forced Lola's pelvis so close to her own that Lola's legs could only dangle uselessly. “Do you see this body?” Kylie demanded. “Can you feel my power? I have 36 inch arms, 44 inch thighs, and a 75 inch chest. There is no one bigger than me. And there is no one stronger than me. And right now, there is no one angrier than me!”
Although I never would have believed it possible, I actually felt bad for Lola Lopez. Kylie had broken her heart, and now she was about to break her body. Lola's muscles would be the envy of any adult bodybuilder, but they were complete obscured by Kylie's sprawling back, gigantic arms and overflowing bustline. “Let me go!” Lola cried, her voice sounding with fear as the anger in her eyes was overwhelmed by Kylie's icy stare like a match in a snowstorm.
Kylie's embrace looked gentle, but the way that Lola struggled told me that it was anything but. “I could crush you like a bug, just like all the others,” Kylie said with a voice both threatening and seductive. “Ty Tate, Bill Booker, all those UFC fighters and you, you're all the same. Just weak little mortals that need to learn their place at the feet of a goddess.”
I thought about how Lola had beaten Allison and I with horrifying ease when she found us in Kylie's room, searching for Allison's stolen earrings. I thought about how Lola had manhandled a World's Strongest Man contestant in the hotel lobby in Rio De Janiero. And I thought about how much more muscular Lola had gotten over the past few months, her young body wrapped with chiseled, striated cords of muscle that made her look more like a predatory animal than a 13-year-old girl. And as I thought of all those things, I watched Lola squirm helplessly in my kid sister's embrace, dominated and cowed by Kylie's monstrous muscular power. Kylie's stare was icy and unrelenting as she held Lola tight, her gigantic breasts threatening to swallow the smaller girl like an ocean of golden brown flesh. Finally, Lola closed her eyes and turned away, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Please Kylie,” she bleated. “Please don't kill me. I beg you. You are a goddess... my goddess.”
“That's more like it,” Kylie sneered as she let Lola drop to the floor, and began to examine her triceps and rear delts in the mirror. “And to show you what a benevolent goddess I am, you may continue to worship me and pleasure me as you have before, despite your little outburst.”
“Is she serious?” Lauren whispered to me. “Does she seriously think that she's a goddess?”
“I don't know,” I whispered in return. “And I don't want to find out.”
We all looked to Lola, who lay trembling on the floor, pulling her dress to her body as if feeling ashamed and inadequate for the first time in her life. “No,” she said softly but firmly. “I will not.”
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Wasn't too much into all of the fighting stuff, but absolutely love these demonstrations of raw strength. The trick with the gold bar was absolutely amazing!
It's crazy how I pity Rick, yet love it as Kylie abuses him directly by taunting him with her superhuman strength.
Incredible writing!
Thanks!
The bad news is that there will be at least one more fight in the story. The good news is that there will be a few more tests of strength.
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Hmm, interesting how fast things can change, at first Kylie seemed to be enjoying what Lola was doing to her, but I guess she found a soft spot on her body, her nipples are vulnerable, at least they are now, she may find a way to work them out and make them just as invulnerable as the rest of her. After all, she has seemingly done the impossible time after time in this story. So yeah, I hope to see more as soon as possible! k+!
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I fear what's coming next ^^'
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Part 4, Chapter 64
Kylie cocked her head and turned away from the mirror, if only a little. “What?” she asked.
“I love you Kylie,”' Lola sniffled as she pulled on her dress. “But I want you as a soul mate and an partner, not as an object of worship. If I have to share you with other women-”
“Which you do,” Kylie interrupted. “You have to share me with lots of other women.”
“If I have to share you with other women, I'll hate myself,” Lola resumed, her voice growing steady as she dried her eyes. “And if loving you means hating myself, I can't love you anymore.”
“Ha! You can't stop loving me,” Kylie crowed as she postured seductively, thrusting out her hips and her chest, and puckering her lips as she ran her fingers from her hips to her breasts. “You can't resist my body, my beauty, my power and my passion. You'll never find anyone that can compare to me. You'll miss me every waking moment of your life, and you'll never dream of anything but me.”
“I know,” Lola said sourly. “But I'm a strong independent young woman looking for someone to love, not a lost soul looking for a goddess to worship. You're not the the center of the universe. Not mine anyway. Not anymore.”
“That bitch!” Allison growled. “How could she say something like that right to Kylie's face? Of course Kylie is the center of the universe. I mean just look at her ass, and her arms... and her tits...”
Neither Kylie nor Lola heard Allison. Instead Kylie walked slowly toward Lola, and raised her left arm, splaying her perfectly manicured fingers as she flexed her mountainous bicep. And then she pumped her bicep again. And again. Lola's knees shook as her eyes were drawn irresistibly to Kylie's incomparably muscular arm, her meaty tricep the size of a small watermelon, her throbbing bicep the size of a honeydew, her forearm rippling with cables of muscle. “No Kylie...” Lola panted. “Please...”
“Kiss it,” Kylie ordered, her anterior deltoid head twitching as it jostled with her bulging pectoral slab. “It's the biggest, strongest bicep in the world. Kiss it, touch it with your lips, and feel my power.”
Lola's lips trembled as her hands began to grope at Kylie's arm, her breathing growing heavier as her fingers traced the lines of Kylie's towering double-headed bicep. “Please don't do this,” Lola whimpered. “You know I can't resist your m-m-muscles. Please don't make me do this.”
“I'm not making you do anything,” Kylie laughed. “You want this. This is all that you want.”
“Stop it, Kylie!” a voice called out, loud and firm. “Stop it now!”
I nearly fainted in disbelief when I realized that the voice was my own. And I nearly fainted in fear when Kylie turned to face me, her gaze as cold as ice. “What did you just say?” Kylie asked.
I was frozen with fear when I felt the warmth of Lauren's hand in my own. “He told you to stop,” Lauren said, speaking confidently despite the trembling fear that I could feel in her hand. “What you're doing to that poor girl is abuse. No woman should ever be treated like that!”
My 14-year-old kid sister smirked as she walked slowly toward us, her monstrous muscles bulging, her gigantic jugs bouncing, and her exquisite face smiling with malicious delight. She was so unnaturally pretty and impossibly ample that it was frightening even to look at her, her overdeveloped body and exquisite beauty making her seem more than human. I felt like a chihuahua facing down a pit bull, but at least I wasn't alone. “So you two think you can tell me what to do, do you?” Kylie asked.
In a split second Kylie's dainty hands were wrapped around our necks, and she lifted us slowly off the ground, chuckling as she savored the pain she was causing to our shoulders and necks. “Oh dear,” mom said nervously. “Oh Kylie I'm sure they didn't mean to make you angry.”
“You're in my house, on my birthday, and you dare to tell me how to treat my girlfriend?” Kylie demanded. “That is the single most disrespectful thing that anyone has ever done to me.”
Mom fell at Kylie's feet, weeping. “Oh please Kylie,” she sobbed. “You can't kill them. They didn't know what they were saying. Of course you can do whatever you want. Please forgive them!”
“All I ever wanted was to be respected and worshiped, and to have people from all over the world bring me gold and jewels and lay them at my feet!” Kylie yelled. “Is that so much to ask for?”
“You deserve all that and more, Kylie,” mom wept. “Please don't kill them. I'm begging you!”
Lauren and I choked and gasped as we squirmed in Kylie's iron grip, but we held tight to each other's hands. I believe in that moment we both decided that we could face death if we did it together.
But we didn't have to. Not today. Lola Lopez stomped in front of Kylie, standing between her arms and in front of her breasts, and slapped Kylie again. “Let them go!” she yelled. “You're no goddess! You're nothing but a bully, picking on people so much weaker than you, just so you can feel superior to them. This is why I'm leaving you—you behave like a common male!”
Instantly Lauren and I fell to the floor, gasping for air as Kylie's arms floated down to her sides, and her eyes began to water. “How could you ever say something so cruel?” Kylie asked softly.
Allison was aghast, her hands covering her mouth as her eyes bugged out in shock. Mom's mouth hung open as if she couldn't believe her ears. And a single tear began to roll down Kylie's cheek. “I'm sorry Kylie,” Lola said, as she began counting on her fingers. “But it's true. The infidelity, the violence, the peacocking, the braggadocio. You're no better than the men that you look down on.”
“If you really think that,” Kylie said, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Then we really are through.”
“Goodbye Kylie,” Lola said, turning her nose up as she walked to the door. “Goodbye forever.”
“Aren't you forgetting something?” Kylie asked, holding out her hand, palm facing upward.
Smiling sourly, Lola took Allison's daisy-shaped earrings from her ears, and dropped them into Kylie's outstretched hand before turning to leave, her peach-shaped bottom wiggling as walked.
“Rick cut it out,” Lauren hissed. “You are staring at a 13 year old girl's butt!”
I quickly looked back to Lauren and smiled awkwardly. “I'm sorry,” I said.
“It's okay,” Lauren sighed. “I kind of was, too.”
An awkward silence filled the den until Kylie finally spoke. “Here you go Fleabites,” she said to Allison, giving her back her treasured earrings on her way to the kitchen.
Allison's eyes began to fill with tears as looked down at the earrings in her hand, and she closed her eyes as she clutched them to her heart. “Thank you so much Kylie,” Allison said softly, her voice stumbling over her emotions. “I love you Kylie. I love you so much.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said as she returned from the kitchen with a slice of cake, deftly sliding a piece between her pouty youthful lips. “That reminds me. I have presents for all of you.”
“Oh how wonderful!” mom sang, glad to relieve the tension of the past few minutes. “My perfect little angel is so good to her family. Oh Kylie, you're the best daughter a mom could hope for!”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said throwing me a set of keys. “Rick, go get the boxes from my car.”
“Okay,” I said flatly, trying to be as boring as possible as I trudged out the door, Lauren in tow.
Kylie's car was immaculately clean on the inside and the outside, and even the windshield shone with spotless perfection. In the tailgate were several perfectly wrapped boxes in white glossy paper bound the pink ribbons, each with an embossed pink envelope attached. “Wow,” Lauren said. “That wrapping paper probably costs more than the ring I gave her.”
“I don't know, she really seemed to like it,” I said. “At least until Allison gave her that gold bar.”
“Okay can we talk about that?” Lauren said. “You know Allison stole that, right?”
“I mean, she had to, right?” I agreed. “But from where?”
“From one of the armored cars that have been getting hijacked ever since Kylie made that stupid video demanding gold and jewels,” Lauren said. “And then your sister just... she just...”
“I know,” I said, not wanting to remember the solid gold squishing like clay in Kylie's hand.
“How strong do you think she is, Rick?” Lauren asked. “I mean I saw the World's Strongest Man competition, and her UFC fights, but somehow I thought it was all... I don't know... staged?”
“I try not to think about it,” I said. "But she just keeps getting stronger."
Just then the sound of screeching tires make us jump, and a huge flatbed tow truck pulled up. Two huge men jumped out of the truck, one bald and one with a mustache, both wearing bulletproof vests, guns, and hats emblazoned with the words 'Tri-State Repossessions'. The bald man began unspooling chains thick enough to tow a battleship as the man with the mustache pointed at Lauren and I. “Stay right there, you two,” he said. “We're repossessing this car.”
“Wait, you don't want to do this,” I said, horrified at what Kylie might do if I let her car get towed.
“This car is stolen property,” the guy with the mustache said, putting his hand on his gun.
I wanted to tell them that it wasn't my car, but mostly I wanted to warn them. I wanted to tell them to get in their truck and drive as fast as they could, before Kylie saw them.
But then a piercing whistle cracked the air, and I knew it was too late. “That's my car.” Kylie said coldly as she strolled toward us, cracking her knuckles, her breasts bouncing heavily in their cradle of white silk and gold chains. “First you need to get the hell away from my car. Then you need to drop to your knees and apologize for touching it. And then you need to beg for my mercy.”
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I fear what's coming next ^^'
A lot of plot points mostly. :)
But now that's over with, Kylie can get back to what she does best.
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I've hated Lola since she first aooeared, but I am glad she found the self respect to get out of that hellhole of a relationship and call out Kylie one her shit. If anyone else had tried they'd likely be dead.
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Yeah, I like the way this chapter went for the most part, Kylie may be so strong that she has nothing to fear from any man, but her feelings can still be hurt, as seen by Lola telling her she's acting just like a man, with her braggadocio and her disregard for other's feelings. But yeah, Rick and Lauren bring up a good point, the way she crushed that bar of gold like soft clay, she is far, far stronger than she was at the WSM contest, unless she was holding back at that point. And I guess this is a good set-up for her showing off that power, looking forward to seeing what the next chapter entails! k+!
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Another GREAT chapter!
Mostly loved the part where Kylie lifted Rick and Lauren by their throats and both of them realised how easily she could have killed them and just kind of went along with it. Really awesome!
The story development is great as well, it feels really planned out and I'm appreciating all the details! But mostly Kylie acting like a spoiled, bratty goddess, though. ::)
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I wonder what would heppend whe Kylie gets shot.
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Story's picking up steam again after that emotional eye opener, killing it!
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It looks like things are quickly getting to the point where we will see the inevitable fight between Superman and Kylie. I've been looking forward to this so much!
There's a part of me that hopes Kylie utterly dominates him and makes him her thrall and sex slave, just like she has everyone else. But there's also part of me that wants to see her finally get put into her place. Regardless of how the story ends, I feel like I'm going to be both satisfied and disappointed with the result at the same time. That probably doesn't make sense.
I do have one minor criticism. The way their mother keeps mindlessly acting as though Kylie is justified in doing anything she wishes initially did a good job of showing Kylie's influence over others, but over the past few chapters, has started to just look sad and like she's just mentally ill and delusional. It would be nice to see that reigned in just a tad in future chapters.
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Part 4, Chapter 65
“Hey it's the girl from the TV!” the man with the mustache said. “The one with the muscles.”
“Damn,” the bald man said looking up from the car. “Those titties look even bigger in person.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said as she continued down the driveway. “I hear that a lot.”
“Jimmy, hurry up and get the chains on!” the mustachioed man barked. "She's freakin' huge!"
“I'm trying Eddie,” the bald man called. “I ain't ever towed one of these things before.”
The man with the mustache pulled his gun from his holster as Kylie stomped toward him. “This car is stolen property and we're repossessing it on behalf of Tri-State Repossessions,” he said
Kylie slowed to a stroll, finally coming to a stop about two feet away from the barrel of the gun. “What are you gong to do with that stupid thing, besides make me angry?” she asked haughtily.
“Young lady, you need to step back,” Eddie said, his mustache quivering with nervousness.
“Hey baldy!,” Kylie growled, ignoring Eddie completely and instead turning to Jimmy. “Get the hell away from my car, or else I'm going to pick it up and beat you over the head with it.”
Eddie's mustache quivered again, and I couldn't tell if he wanted to talk or to shoot. As it turned out, he did neither. At the first tiny nearly imperceptible sign of movement from Eddie, Kylie reached out and snatched his gun from his hands, her arm moving with blinding speed even as her body remained at ease, and her face showing nothing more than mild annoyance, as if the deadly weapon were nothing more than a fly to be shooed away.
Eddie gawked at his empty hands and blinked, then he took two steps backward and raised his hands in the air. As Kylie advanced on Eddie, he backed up further and further until he bumped into Jimmy, who reflexively stood upright in surprise. “Get your gun out Jimmy!” Eddie cried.
Jimmy fumbled with his holster as he looked up, drawing his gun just in time to see Kylie crumple Eddie's gun into a wad of bent steel and broken plastic the size of a ping pong ball, as if it were a piece of paper. Jimmy's gun dropped from his hand as he began to tremble. “She's gonna kill us!” Jimmy yelled, abandoning the unattached tow chains and running back to the tow truck.
Eddie ran after Jimmy, and they fell over one another as they piled into the cab of the truck and started the engine. It didn't get very far. As the truck roared away from the house, Kylie reached down and calmly grabbed the two tow chains that dangled behind the truck, her small girly fingers seizing the very last links milliseconds before they were out of reach. The truck stopped cold, its tires screeching as it tried to pull away, while behind it my 14-year-old little sister smirked, her muscle-swollen body showing no signs of effort as the oversized truck strained against her.
Then Kylie began to rotate her wrists. Her arms hardened into slabs of muscle, churning and rippling with power as she began to wrap the chains around her forearms, pulling the truck toward her one inch at a time. Time seemed to stand still as Kylie slowly and irrevocably pulled the truck toward her, smoke pouring from its hood as it continued to struggle. The tow truck's engine had at least 400 horsepower and 1,000 foot-pounds of torque, which was enough force to pull a tank out of the mud. But it wasn't enough force to budge the busty 14-year-old muscle girl who stood behind the truck, winding the tow chains around her impossibly muscular arms, slowly pulling it closer to her grasp.
The truck was about two feet away from Kylie when its engine finally blew, a massive thunderclap of an explosion followed by complete silence, as all around the block people began to peer from behind their curtains. “Get out of that truck now!” Kylie shouted.
The two men were trembling with fear as they tumbled out of the truck and dropped to their knees, crawling toward Kylie's feet. “Please ma'am,” Jimmy whimpered. “We were just doing our job.”
“Is your winch built into your chassis, or is it welded on?” Kylie asked.
“A-are you asking about the t-truck?” Eddie stammered in confusion. “I-it's built in.”
“Good,” Kylie said with a nasty smile. “That means it will stay in one piece when I do this.”
With a high-pitched girly grunt, Kylie rolled her shoulders and whipped her arms up over her head, pulling the tow chains sharply, and yanking the 5 ton truck up in the air as if it were a toy on a string. Kylie smiled as she watched the enormous vehicle fly over her head, tracing a parabola in the noontime sky, and she laughed as it fell to the road behind her with a cacophonous crash.
Scraps of metal flew everywhere, and fluid sprayed from the underside of the ruined truck, pooling on the road in a kaleidoscope of colors. But not so much as a fleck of metal or a drop of oil landed on Kylie, and even the leaking fluids ran around her feet, as if even the inanimate debris was afraid of her wrath.
As everyone on the block gaped in awe at Kylie's show of strength, she raised her chain-wrapped arms and began to flex them. The tow chains, thick enough to pull a battleship, snapped like string, falling to the ground as they were forced away from Kylie's golden-brown skin by the swelling of her mountainous 36 inch arms, her biceps deeply dimpled and sharply peaked, and her triceps knotted into slabs of muscle as big as my head. “There you are, girls,” Kylie said playfully to her biceps, kissing one at a time. “I missed seeing you so much. I promise I'll never cover you up again.”
Eddie and Jimmy's eyes drifted from Kylie's muscular exhibition to the ruined truck, and their expressions changed from amazement to hopelessness. “We're gonna get fired,” Eddie sighed.
“Fired? You're lucky to be alive, after disobeying my orders,” Kylie snapped. “And don't even think of talking to the police. If you do, I'll find out, and I'll crush you like the bugs that you are.”
“What about all these other people?” Jimmy asked, motioning to the neighbors who peered from behind their curtains.
“Oh don't worry about them,” Kylie sneered. “They learned long ago not to mess with me.”
It was hard to argue with her. Kylie had bullying and tormenting our neighbors, young and old alike, since she 8 years old. And not once had anyone ever been able to successfully punish her for her behavior. When she was 8 she used her cuteness to talk her way out of trouble, then at 10 she used her cunning to lie her way out of trouble, then at 12 she could use her status as a star athlete and student to coerce her way out of trouble, and now at age 14 she was so horrifically strong and so universally famous that none of our browbeaten neighbors would dare to cross her.
Kylie laughed contentedly at her own dominance as she she adjusted her huge jiggly boobs and straightened her bejeweled tiara. “This was a pretty fun birthday party after all,” she crowed as she climbed into her gleaming white Humvee. “Let's do it again next year, with a bigger truck.”
Kylie quickly backed out of the driveway and sped down the street, maneuvering her vehicle with the skill of a seasoned rally driver, zipping it nimbly around turns despite its massive size. From the other direction, sirens screamed as the police approached our house, only to find the road blocked by the upended tow truck, Kylie's car having just disappeared into the distance. “Rick I think you were right,” Lauren said, finally breaking her silence. “I think Kylie is a super-villain.”
“Maybe she doesn't realize it,” I suggested hopefully. “Maybe she'll just stay in town in her palace, with all her gold and jewels, and her... you know... all those girls.”
“Are you talking about her harem or her army?” Lauren asked. “Look Rick, bullies don't just go away. They just get worse and worse until someone stops them. And I guess we're all to blame for this, myself included. We all just submitted to her or hid from her, instead of standing up to her.”
“I tried to stand up to her,” I sighed. “But she was just too strong. She was always too strong, even when she was a little girl. Now we just have to hope that Superman decides to stop her.”
“We can't just wait for Superman to show up,” Lauren said. “We have to do something soon.”
Lauren, dad and I were glum as we sat around the table with Kylie's presents, but mom and Allison were so excited that they could hardly contain themselves. Although Lauren didn't get a gift, since Kylie didn't know she was coming, she watched with curiosity as we tore our presents open.
Kylie was as extravagant in her gift-giving as she was in everything else. Mom got a jewel-encrusted Hermes handbag, dad got the keys and title to a new Lamborghini Huracan and Allison got a coupon for a lifetime supply of Kylie's new line of bodybuilding supplements. Lauren jumped as she saw my gift, a certificate for a trust fund to cover my college expenses. “You could go to any school in the world with that much money,” she gasped.
Finally, all that was left on the table were our pink envelopes. We all opened the envelopes at once, and we were all a bit surprised to see plane tickets to Las Vegas, and invitations for the Adult Video News awards. “Oh goodness,” mom said. “When they say 'adult' do they mean... naughty?”
“Oh hell yes they do,” Allison giggled. “This is so hot. But I'm going to need a sluttier dress.”
I blushed as I looked at Lauren. “I won't go,” I said quickly. “I'll just throw this away.”
“Oh no you don't,” Lauren said, leaning against my arm and taking the card from my hand as she smiled. “It says right here that you get a plus one. And I wouldn't miss this for the world.”
“Mine comes with a VIP pass for a special event,” dad smiled. “I wonder what it could be.”
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I've hated Lola since she first aooeared, but I am glad she found the self respect to get out of that hellhole of a relationship and call out Kylie one her shit. If anyone else had tried they'd likely be dead.
Well spotted. I felt that was the logical conclusion to Lola's story arc. She was just willful enough to resist enthralled by Kylie, just confident enough to stand up to Kylie, and just strong enough to survive making Kylie angry.
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Well, once again, whatever limits Kylie had months ago, when she won the World's Strongest Man, she blew well past them, as she showed when she whipped a 10,000 pound vehicle over her head with seemingly little effort, and before that she showed incredible power by pulling against it's winch and overpowering it as well. You know how much I love shows of strength, it appears that she may be powerful enough to at least try to take Superman on, if that is where the story is going, it may not, though, because at least Lauren seems to want to stop Kylie before it goes that far, I wonder what this whole Adult Video News Awards could entail? I mean Kylie is 14, and if she did any videos before this point, she would've been 13 before that. But as a lot of this story has put forward, the normal rules don't apply to her. Anyway, I very much look forward to seeing where this goes, keep it up! k+!
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Personally hoping the "taking Kylie down" thing doesn't pan out and she goes full blown goddess, tearing Superman apart quite literally. Though would also strongly prefer she and Rick have an actual heart to heart, with him genuinely worshiping her, and the two getting together. Don't see that happening given the form the story's taken so far, but just my preference on things.
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Can't wait to read what will happen in Las Vegas.
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This is the best story i red here. But i am not fan of the idea to introduce superman in it. You created your own universe, you don't need other fictionnal characters.
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Maybe some juced up dumbo who thinks he is Superman
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This is the best story i red here. But i am not fan of the idea to introduce superman in it. You created your own universe, you don't need other fictionnal characters.
I second that.
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I think the Superman idea is already set in motion folks, just have to sit back and enjoy the show now.
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at the adult video awards she has to beat men in the last competition: with the biggest clit in the world she destroys men's dicks for length and hardness!!! she has to humiliate the greatest porno star in the world with her clit
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Part 4, Chapter 66
The days leading up to the AVN Awards passed uneventfully for me, but Lauren had spent most of her time studying Kylie. I was lifting weights in my bedroom while Lauren pored through her anatomy textbooks, her laptop at the ready. “It just doesn't make sense,” she said, taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Even if I account for all the new findings on the potential of explosive muscle growth in preadolescent girls, Kylie is just too big and too strong. Even her skeletal structure had to change just to accommodate all that muscle, and that's not humanly possible.
“What about all her old medical records from the attic?” I asked. “Did they help you at all?”
“No,” she said dejectedly. “It's just normal young girl stuff. Only a couple comments stating that Kylie was 'developing early' and was 'very willful' and had a 'very high pain threshold'.”
“Those are the three biggest understatements I've ever heard in my life.” I joked.
All of a sudden I realized that I had been talking about Kylie for several minutes without feeling shame or anxiety. It was never more clear to me that having Lauren in my life had given me a sense of self-worth that I never had before, and had no choice but to put down my weights, and embrace her. “What brought this on?” Lauren giggled. “Do you have a thing for medical research?”
“I don't need a reason to love you,” I said between kisses. “Although I have thousands.”
“Oh that's so sweet,” Lauren cooed. “You're going to get a special reward for that.”
The next morning we were on an airplane ride to Las Vegas, and before I knew it I was waiting for Lauren to get ready. “Ta-da,” she said, as she exited the bathroom, in all her cock-hardening glory.
Lauren was wearing a red and gold minidress that hugged her full-figured frame tightly, hemmed high enough to provide a good view of her curvy legs, and cut low enough to show an enticing glimpse of her ample cleavage. Her glasses and high heels were both shiny and black like her hair. “Wow,” I said. “You look amazing! I can't even imagine how sexy your underwear must be.”
“I'm not wearing any, silly,” Lauren said. “Who wears underwear to the AVN Awards?”
Lauren and I met dad, mom, and Allison in the lobby. Dad and I were wearing our old suits. Mom was wearing a neon pink cocktail dress with a plunging halter neckline that allowed her gigantic jiggly breasts to bob freely while providing an unobstructed view of her thick pecs and bulging shoulders. Not to be outdone, Allison was wearing green fishnet microdress that contrasted perfectly with her red hair, and displayed every cut and bulge of her olympian physique, and every curve of her voluptuous figure. It was plain to see that Allison wasn't wearing any underwear, but her dress was studded with strategically placed rhinestones, some of which were strategically clustered to cover the nipples and vulva. Lauren was trying not to stare at Allison or mom, but Allison noticed her awkwardness, and smiled. “So I take it you like my dress, Lingster?” she asked.
Lauren shuffled her feet and adjusted her glasses. “You look... um, really nice,” she said.
“Really?” Allison asked glumly. “I was trying to look slutty. Should I take out the rhinestones?”
Before Lauren could respond, our limo pulled up, and a driver beckoned for us. “Ms. O'Reilly will meet you later,” he said, tearing his eyes away from mom's rack and Allison's nearly naked body.
And just like that we were on our way to the AVN Awards.
As we entered the ballroom where the awards show was held, we were directed to a table with our names on tiny cards, where a man in a white suit and a woman in a lacy red dress were already seated. “Oh this is so classy,” mom said, maneuvering her bountiful bosom around the table settings.
“You two are by far the sexiest muscle fetish girls I've ever seen,” the man in the white suit said to mom and Allison. “Your faces and hands are perfectly feminine, and your tits are beyond amazing.”
“Oh we're not porn stars,” Allison said. “Although I do love to fuck.”
“My daughter Kylie invited us,” mom said. “She must be around here somewhere.”
The woman in the red lacy dress grabbed mom's name card and studied her name. “Wait, Kylie O'Reilly?” she gasped. “The Kylie? You're her mom? Oh you must be so proud.”
“Here we go again,” the man in the white suit scolded. “She's 14 years old, Nannette.”
“Shut up Nico,” Nannette snapped. “How can you not understand how incredible Kylie is?”
“That's my perfect little muscle princess,” mom beamed. “Oh, she has so many fans.”
The lights went down and the show began, with Nico and Nannette arguing until they were drowned out by music. The AVN Awards weren't that great, but Nico and Nannette assured us that the banquet and afterparty would be amazing. They were certainly right about the banquet, which was catered with delicious modern cuisine and artfully crated drinks. As the waiters cleared our plates Nico and Nannette got up to dance, and two large men in tuxedos and earphones came up to dad. “Sir, your presence has been requested at a special VIP event,” one of them said. “Please follow us.”
“Well okay,” dad said, smiling as he got up from the table. “I just can't wait for my special gift.”
“Now that he's out of the way,” Allison said to mom, “would you care to join me for a dance?”
“Oh I would be delighted. I just hope I can keep my hands to myself,” mom said with a wink.
“I hope you can't,” Allison purred as they made their way on to the dance floor.
Lauren and I watched all the people drinking and dancing, and I was amazed at that Lauren knew the names and specialties of almost everyone that we saw. “I told you before,” she said. “I've watched a lot of porn. I've studied these people the way quarterbacks study defenses.”
Just then an oily man in a red suit approached the table with a briefcase chained to his wrist, followed by a tall muscular man with long brown hair in a caveman loincloth that bulged prodigiously with the weight of his cock. “Hey little lady,” the man in the red suit said, opening the briefcase. “I have here a cashier's check for $1 million, for any amateur girl who can last 5 minutes with Stud Stone here, with cameras rolling of course. What do you say?”
“She's not a-” I began
“What if he can't last 5 minutes with me?” Lauren interrupted. “Do I still get the money?”
The two men looked Lauren up and down, then looked at each other and laughed. “Sure,” the oily man said. “Why not? That would make a great film, too. So how about it?”
Lauren turned to me. “Rick, what do you think?” she asked, taking my hands. “I wouldn't think of doing this without your permission, but $1 million is a lot of money. But your love means more to me than any amount of money, so if you don't want me to, I won't.”
My eyes drifted to the massive bulge in Stud Stone's loincloth, and then back to Lauren's face. To my surprise, I didn't feel the least bit worried. “I trust you,” I said. “Go get that bread, sis.”
“Thanks,” Lauren said. “Do me a favor and start a timer when the door closes.”
“Right this way, little lady,” the oily man said showing Lauren to a roped off anteroom right behind us, as Stud Stone followed behind her, staring at her tight round butt.
I trusted Lauren absolutely, but as the door closed, and I stared the stopwatch on my phone, I started to feel nervous. I could hear the oily man's leering laughter through the door, despite the music and chatter in the air. Then I heard a deep rumbling voice that I could only assume belonged to Stud Stone. “Oh wow. This is crazy hot. This is the best sex ever,” his voice rumbled excitedly, but almost instantly his voice went from excited to panicked. “It's way too much. Make her stop! Help!”
I watched the door nervously for what felt like an eternity until it opened, and Lauren walked out smiling, a check for $1 million in her hand. Lauren looked fresh as a daisy and moved so casually that she might have been at a church picnic, but behind her I could see Stud Stone on the floor, crying and shaking. My mouth was hanging open in amazement as Lauren easily slid back into her seat and dropped the check into her purse. “How long was I gone?” she asked.
I looked at my phone. “94 seconds,” I said. “And it took you like 20 seconds to walk back.”
“And it took me 30 seconds to take my dress off,” Lauren said. “And 30 to put it on again.”
I looked at Lauren's pelvis nervously. “That means it took you like 10 seconds to...” I gulped.
“Don't worry,” she giggled. “I wouldn't hurt you like that. Unless you make me really angry.”
Soon the music took a break, and Nico, Nannette, mom, and Allison rejoined us at the table. “You know, I kind of expected more girls to be here,” Allison said. “This is a total sausage-fest.”
“Well 30 of them won the lottery,” Nannette grumbled. “The lucky bitches.”
“Oh here we go again,” Nico grumbled.
“Oh was there a drawing?” mom asked. “Like a door prize at the ice cream social?”
“Way better than that,” Nannette said. “If your name was drawn, you got to go into the VIP room with Kylie. OMG I would give everything I own to be one of those girls. The lucky bitches.”
Instantly Allison's sprung from her chair and ran toward the VIP room, a set of golden doors guarded by two enormous men. Lauren, mom, and I chased after her, but she was too far ahead.
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This is the best story i red here. But i am not fan of the idea to introduce superman in it. You created your own universe, you don't need other fictionnal characters.
I second that.
I went back and forth on this. I ramped Kylie up so fast in Part 2 that I decided I just had to go completely over-the-top with the story, or there wouldn't really be an ending at all. But hopefully I have a few tricks to keep things interesting along the way.
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Theory:. When Superman finally does get involved he gets dominated by Kylie and turned into her bitch, then Lingster finally is the one who defeats her with her sex skills, not in a fight.
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Yeah, I'm sort of excited to see what happens, once again, why is Kylie not only at the AVN awards, but she seemingly is a big part of it for so many people. I guess it just has something to do with her nuclear sex appeal, despite being only 14. And yeah, I'm thinking that Weaponzero's idea could be right on, Superman being overpowered and then Lauren being the one to take Kylie down with her superior sexual skills. k+!
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Everything is fine with me, as long as we see Kylie destroying more things and people first. ::) I'd love to read more comparisons of her and other people, but that has to fit the narrative, of course.
In any case, absolutely terrific story!
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I suggest you to use her irish descent. Irish mythology is full of evil godesses and frightening supernatural females ;D
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In the world grbaclig has created for Kylie, there isn't a living creature that can outfight, outmuscle, or outlast Kylie in any situation. Possibly not even Superman. But there is possibly one who can outFUCK her. And I really think that's what grbaclig is setting up.
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I agree. Lauren is set up as both experienced and talented (in the way that Kylie is talented with her muscles and strength). She has never been humbled. But I don’t think she’s ever been truly pleasured and that’s where I think this is going.
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Personally prefer an outcome where Kylie comes out on top. I feel the scene with Lauren saying what Kylie's accomplished shouldn't be possible even considering everything new discovered helps build towards the idea that Kylie is in fact a goddess. Still rooting for a Kylie #1 ending that has a happy outcome between her and her brother.
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Yeah, fully expecting (and hoping) that this is leading up to Superman getting his ass kicked in front of the whole world and Lauren being sexually dominated by Kylie, most likely with poor ole Rick being forced to watch. Should be good times >:D
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U know what i would like to see,a few chapters back,they was a you girl who used her muscle building program,it would be interesting to see a side story with the women and girls that use it and what kind of adventures they get in.
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Part 4, Chapter 67
When we finally caught up with Allison, she was arguing with the security guards at the door of the VIP room. “Let me in you big stupid goons!” she shouted. “I need to get in there now!”
“I'm sorry ma'am,” one of the guards said, holding his palms up as a sign of peace. “There's a special event in there, and due to the limited capacity, only guests with invitations are allowed.”
Allison cocked her head just a little, and clenched her fists. Then I saw her calves bunch up into inverted hearts of swollen muscle as big as grapefruits. Then I saw the rhomboids, teres and deltoid muscles on the right side of her body tense into a knot of bulging muscle beneath the green fishnet of her dress. “I've got my invitation right here,” Allison snarled.
“Wait, don't do it!” I cried.
But it was too late. Before I could even blink, Allison had drilled a right cross square into the jaw of the security guard on the right. Her punch was fast as a bullet and landed like a cannonball, and the towering man slumped against the wall instantly and collapsed into an unconscious pile. Allison's follow-through had turned her away from the second guard, who leapt on her instantly, and wrapped her up in a bear hug. “Ma'am, you need to calm down,” he said, struggling to control her.
“Get your hands off my tits right now!” Allison growled.
Before the guard could react, Allison's leg flashed upward, exposing the pink ruffles of her labia and her neatly trimmed ginger pubic hair as her shin struck the guard squarely between the eyes, sending him staggering backward as she slipped from his grasp. The guard put his hand to his earpiece, probably to call for backup, but he was too slow. Allison unwound a spinning side kick into his jaw that snapped his head around so severely that his whole body rotated 360 degrees as he dropped to the ground, unconscious. Allison was through the doors before the hit the ground, and we rushed in after her. “Oh this is lovely,” mom said. “It looks like a royal ballroom from the TV!”
The VIP room was large enough to host a small party, and was full of beds and chaise lounges. The furniture had obviously been brought in for the AVN awards, given the hedonistic silk and satin coverings, as had the video cameras that ringed the room. In the middle of it all stood Kylie, her hair in an elaborate textured side bun that was held in place with a red rose, and her lips and nails painted a vibrant shade of red. She was wrapped with a towel as if she had just stepped out of a bath, although the fabric could do little to conceal her ample body, the top edge of the towel struggling to contain the ballooning swell of her enormous breasts, and the bottom edge barely long enough to cover her groin on the front--and helpless to hide her prodigious buttocks in back. Allison froze when she saw Kylie, and I braced for a torrent of worshipful praise, but instead Allison closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Oh my God you guys,” she said dreamily. “Do you smell all that delicious pussy?”
It was hard not to. All around Kylie, draped on the furniture and lying on the floor were adult film actresses of every size, shape, and ethnicity. Some were panting, some were twitching, some were laughing, some were crying, and some were writhing around as if possessed. But they were all dripping with sweat with their hair and makeup mussed, and they were all covered with vibrant red lip prints from Kylie's lipstick.
On one end of the room sat dad, belted into a chair with his eyes held open by a weird contraption. On the other end of the room sat two very flushed people, a man and a women, in blue blazers marked with the seal of the Guinness Book of World Records. The man held a stopwatch and an air horn, and the woman had laptop and clipboard on the desk before her. “Well?” Kylie demanded impatiently as she walked toward the woman in the blue blazer. “Are you almost done? We've been finished for 15 minutes. How long does it take to count orgasms anyway?”
“I-I'm sorry Kylie,” the woman stammered as she furiously marked up her clipboard while watching her laptop screen. “There were just so many orgasms.”
“I know that,” Kylie said angrily. “I was the one causing them. By the way, I counted 2,255.”
A woman with dyed pink hair, several tattoos and huge fake breasts pulled herself off the floor and threw herself at Kylie's feet. “Oh Kylie,” she panted. “That was the most amazing thing that I've ever experienced in my life. You made me feel things that I didn't even know were possible.”
“Yeah I know,” Kylie said nonchalantly as she checked her nail polish.
“Please let me be with you forever, Kylie,” the woman with the pink hair begged.
“Nah,” Kylie said as she stepped away from the pink-haired woman and walked to a small pile of red fabric and gold chains that rested on a chair near a full-length mirror. “You're not my type.”
“Tell me how to be your type, Kylie,” the woman with pink hair sobbed. “I'll lift weights, I'll get my tits reduced, or get my tits enlarged. I'll do anything, Kylie. I'll do anything to be with you!”
“Desperation is really unattractive,” Kylie said coldly, inspecting her hair in the mirror.
Then, with a theatrical flourish, Kylie let her towel fall to the ground, smiling as she examined her overabundant muscularity in the mirror, while all around her depleted porn stars cooed with desire and moaned with exhaustion. As much as it disgusted me to look at my Kylie's naked body, it was impossible to look away. She was too big and too ripped to ignore. Each of her movements caused blocks of shredded muscle to undulate beneath her tanned skin in perfect synchronicity, like a finely choreographed ballet of rock-hard female muscle, even as she performed mundane tasks as adjusting her hair. “Simply incredible,” Lauren said in amazement. “Her muscularity is an anatomical marvel.”
“Please get dressed Kylie,” begged a particularly beautiful actress. “Just the sight of your naked body makes me throb. And I'm so sore already... oh God... I think I'm going to cum again.”
Kylie smiled nastily as she opened a small red silk purse with a gold frame, and took out a handful of ladies' wedding rings. “Well it's not like you have to look at me. I'm not that sexy, am I?” Kylie laughed as she began to slip the wedding rings onto her big thick nipples. “Oh wait, I totally am.”
Then, her enormous breasts jiggling with every move and glinting with the gold and diamonds that now adorned them, Kylie stepped into the pile of red silk and gold chains that was her dress for the evening, and began to pull it up onto her hulking body.
Kylie's dress was little more than a few strips of bright red silk strategically wrapped around her body in an irregular pattern and held together with shimmering gold chains, like a work of modern art that barely concealed her gargantuan muscles. The exhausted actresses around us groaned as Kylie guided the intricate bodice of gold and red silk over the swell of her massive wobbling breasts. Once her dress was in place, Kylie reached back into her purse and took out several luxurious rings, which she slid onto her fingers, and a pair of ostentatious earrings, which she clipped deftly to her ears.
“I'm finished,” the woman in the blue blazer called. “Kylie, by our count you gave 30 women a total of 2,254 orgasms in 60 minutes, which shatters the record for sexual prowess. But we still-”
“What!?” Kylie growled. “You're wrong! I counted 2,255 climaxes. I could sense them.”
The record-keepers shrunk in terror at the teenage juggernaut that stomped toward them. “W-well you see, Kylie,” the woman sputtered fearfully as Kylie snatched her clipboard.
“Let me see this!” Kylie said, flicking through the pages at lightning speed. “Ha! I knew it, there were 2,255. You forgot to count this mark here in the margin on page 7.”
“Well the thing is Kylie,” the woman in the blue blazer said, blushing. “That was my orgasm. And I technically wasn't part of the orgy, so my orgasm doesn't count. Even though it was incredible.”
Kylie's mood lightened instantly. “Oh really,” she purred, placing the clipboard back on the desk and smiling wryly. “Tell me, what was it that finally pushed you over the edge?”
The woman in the blue blazer closed her eyes and swallowed hard as she took off her glasses, revealing herself to be quite pretty under her bookish exterior. “It was the twins,” she said softly. “You had one straddling each arm, and you were flexing your biceps and bouncing them up and down.”
“It was like heaven,” called out a beautiful raven-haired woman who lay on the floor, holding hands with her identical twin sister. “I could feel her power radiating from her muscles into my clit.”
“It started in my labia,” her sister agreed. “Then spread to my clit, then it spread through my entire body, like a flower of ecstasy blooming inside me. I could feel her strength so deep inside me.”
“And you were manipulating their labia and their clitori so skillfully, just with the movement of your muscles,” the woman in the blue blazer continued, her eyes still closed as she pawed at her own body. “I had never seen anything like it. I didn't even touch myself. I just... exploded.”
“Well then,” Kylie giggled. “I guess number 2,255 doesn't count after all. Consider it a gift.”
“B-but there is still one thing left,” the woman in the blue blazer said, pulling herself together. “I need to know how many orgasms you had, Kylie. I couldn't see evidence of any on the film, but of course you were always covered in other women.”
“None,” Kylie said. “I don't climax. I learned a long time ago that if you can bring a woman to orgasm, you can make her fall in love, and control her. And no one does that to me.“
-
Hmmm, that last line has me very much intrigued because of how awesome Lauren seems to be at sex, while Kylie just showed herself to be insanely proficient in sex herself in this chapter, and she probably have had some very knowledgeable sex partners, who tried their best to make her cum, she hasn't met anyone in the bedroom like Lauren, which brings up an interesting scenario to play out in the future of this story. So yeah, keep up the great work, grbaclig! k+!
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Love how nuts this story is. Although it's a shame we only got the aftermath of all those orgasms, hopefully we can get some in-depth play-by-play in the future. The image of Kylie bicep-fucking twins, one on each arm, is something that begs to be rendered in exquisite detail.
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This story is just amazing! Love the descriptions of Kylie, from her hard muscles to her huge, wobbling boobs. :rock:
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If that isn't an obvious setup for Lauren to eventually be the one to take down Kylie, I don't know what is...
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Omg will love to see that
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I hope that their will be in your ideas, a physical contact between the mom and the dad or the son, so we can keep track of the mother muscular condition and strength 😉👍👍
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Part 4, Chapter 68
Kylie then turned her attention to my father, unhooking the contraption that held his eyes open and kept them from drying out. “Well daddy,” she sneered as she loosed the belts that had restrained him. “Aren't you proud of me? Not only am I the biggest, strongest and most famous person in the world, I just out-screwed a room-full of porn stars. You may congratulate me now.“
Dad said nothing, instead he simply slumped over like a deflated balloon, sobbing. “Oh dear,” mom said sadly. “Kylie finally broke her father. What on earth am I going to do with him now?”
“Who cares?” Allison snorted. “He's a sexist pig. He never appreciated Kylie. But you know if he had a son that was bigger, stronger, and sexier than anyone else on earth, he'd be super proud. But God forbid that a girl be strong and sexual. A classic case of Hooter Envy, if you ask me.”
“There's no such thing as Hooter Envy,” I groaned, causing Lauren so squeeze my hand.
“Stay boring, Rick,” she whispered soothingly, knowing that breasts were a sore topic with me.
“But it's some dumb thing Kylie made up,” I whispered. “And everybody is acting like it's real.”
All of a sudden, Kylie was upon us. “What were you two saying?” she asked.
“Um... We were talking about your outfit,” Lauren said, thinking quickly. “Those jewels are all at least 20 carats, and that dress had to cost a fortune, too. And that's not to mention all the gold. That's probably the most expensive outfit anyone has ever worn.”
“It totally is,” Kylie said, smiling smugly. “I had my accountants add it all up before I left.”
“It's a lovely dress, Kylie,” mom said. “It's a shame you couldn't find a necklace to go with it.”
“I don't wear necklaces anymore,” Kylie said, looking down at her sprawling chest, and smiling. “Sometimes my pecs twitch, and they destroy anything caught between them. Gold gets bent, chains get snapped, diamonds get cracked. What can I say, these babies have a mind of their own?”
“That's impossible,” I blurted out, my frustration finally getting the better of me. “Diamonds are the hardest things on earth, you can't just crack them with your stupid chest muscles.”
Allison and mom gasped in shock, Kylie grimaced in anger, and I froze in fear. “Don't you ever talk that way about my pecs!” Kylie barked. “The development of my pectoral muscles has redefined the limits of human muscularity and strength. They are the most perfect muscles on my perfect body. But once again, you're doubting their power. So you must need a demonstration.”
Then Kylie took Lauren by the wrist and pulled off her engagement ring, moving so quickly and gracefully that Lauren barely had time to react. Kylie snickered as looked at the modest diamond ring that I had given to Lauren to profess my undying love, then she placed it gently between her pectorals, right where the muscle segments took on a scalloped appearance as they swelled together at her sternum. Then I felt despair wash over me as my kid sister clasped her hands together and squeezed her pecs, which swelled up as thick as cinder blocks, obscuring her chin as they churned with power, until a tiny popping sound was heard. “No way,” Lauren squeaked.
Kylie giggled as she relaxed her monstrous pectoral muscles, revealing a tiny smear of sparkling black dust that had once been a diamond, and a paper-thin scrap of gold that had once been a ring. Kylie smiled as she puckered her lips and blew a stream of air downward toward her gargantuan pecs, scattering the diamond dust in the air in a fine sparkling haze as the gold leaf floated lazily to the ground. “Diamonds aren't the hardest thing on earth, Rick,” Kylie bragged. “I am.”
“Kylie! That was my engagement ring!” Lauren cried, her eyes starting to water.
“Quit your whining, Lingster,” Kylie said dismissively. “With the money I gave Rick on my birthday, he can afford to buy you a real ring. Oh you're all welcome for the gifts by the way, even though you never thanked me for them. You know, the gifts that I gave you on my birthday.”
“I could never thank you enough, Kylie,” Allison said reverentially as she gazed at my busty, musclebound kid sister. “Not just for the gifts, but for everything that you do for women everywhere, just by being so amazing. You're a goddess. You're my goddess.”
“Yeah I know,” Kylie said as she walked to the other side of the room and took her purse from the chair where in lay, pausing briefly to examine the massive blocks of her calf muscles in the mirror.
As Kylie headed for the door, we all waited nervously, as if we were afraid to move without Kylie's permission. And in a way, that's exactly what was happening. And I hated it. I had spent the past couple of months trying to be boring, so Kylie would have no reason to pay attention to me, but seeing her destroy Lauren's engagement ring made my blood boil. I was shaking with anger as she passed us on the way to the door. I had never wanted to hit someone so bad in my entire life, but at the same time I knew that my blows would only bounce uselessly off the steely bulk of her muscular physique. I ran through a million scenarios in my mind—clubs, knives, guns, tanks—but even my own revenge fantasies ended in defeat, with my 14-year-old sister laughing at my attempts to hurt her as she flexed her colossal muscles again and again, displaying her completely unblemished body in all its Olympian glory. I was as helpless against her in my imagination as I was in real life.
And then, to my horror, Kylie stopped in her tracks just as she was about to leave the room. Silently and purposefully she turned back toward us and began walking toward me. My heart nearly stopped. But then Kylie passed me by and strolled up to Allison, looking her up and down as she puckered approvingly. “You know what, Allison?” she said. “Your body kills in that dress.”
All of a sudden my anger and fear were overwhelmed by surprise at Kylie's words. Not once since they first met had Kylie called Allison by her name. Allison looked just as startled at the turn of events as me, looking to the side and tucking her hair behind her ear to hide her wide eyes and growing smile. “Thanks Kylie,” Allison tittered, struggling to contain her excitement. “I've been following your workout programs, and I've been taking your supplements, and I've been taking your breast enhancement pills, and I got this hairstyle from the video you did in April about summer hairdos for girls with wavy hair, and I know you like when girls with red hair wear green because you said that in your AMA last year on November 9th.”
“Finally somebody listens to me,” Kylie said. “And I can tell you've been listening to my advice on concentration curls, too, because your biceps have some serious mass. Just how big are your arms?”
“18 inches,” Allison said, sounding proud and nervous at once. “I wish they were bigger, but I've only been lifting seriously for a few months now.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself,” Kylie said, her eyes flashing with a sinister hungry light. “How many 18 year olds have 18 inch arms? And I'll bet they look awesome. Hit a double biceps pose for me, let's check them out.”
Allison blushed with excitement as she raised her arms and flexed her biceps, her arms swelling with muscles so big and sculpted that would shame nearly every female bodybuilder on earth, and some male bodybuilders as well. The green fishnet of Allison's dress stretched and stretched as she pumped her arms again and again, giggling with joy at Kylie's approval, until finally the delicate fabric split, making way for the angular peaks of her biceps. “Oh fuck yeah!” Allison exclaimed.
“Don't you just love flexing out of your clothes?' Kylie asked as she looked Allison up and down. “It's sexy as hell and it's a great excuse to go shopping. Now let's see those lats.”
Allison was glowing with pride as she put her hands on her waist in a posture that was so evocative of a professional bodybuilder that it must have been well-rehearsed. Then she flared her back, causing wings of female muscle to spread outward from her trunk, further shredding her dress as their swelling pushed through the green fishnet. “I love this pose,” Allison giggled. “My waist looks tiny and my boobs look so big and so round. And my legs looks super hot.”
“I definitely agree,” Kylie said, overtly ogling Allison's out-thrust breasts. “I love the way v-taper emphasizes the female figure while also projecting strength. Don't you feel strong and sexy?”
“I feel so strong, and so sexy,” Allison said proudly, looking down at her chiseled physique.
“And you look strong and sexy,” Kylie said with a wink. “In fact I can barely control myself. Would you mind if I touched your lats?”
“Of course,” Allison tittered. “You can touch any part of me you want to. Please touch me.”
Kylie smirked as she deftly slid her hands up Allison's waist, and along the expanse of her flaring latimus dorsi muscles, puckering with approval. “You've got a thick back, girl,” Kylie said.
“I do so many pull-ups and rows,” Allison said, as Kylie continued to run her hands up and down Allison's lats. “Because I know you like girls with big tits, big lats, and a small waist.”
“Allison, did you build all this muscle just to get my attention?” Kylie asked with a wry smile.
“I didn't know what else to do,” Allison said as tears began to well in her eyes, and Kylie stepped back, and took her hands. “Every other boy or girl that I wanted just fell at my feet, but you wouldn't even acknowledge me. I wanted you so badly, and I couldn't even get close to you.”
“You're close to me now,” Kylie purred. “Would you like to get closer to me?”
“Yes,” Allison sobbed, looking down at Kylie. “I want to get as close to you as I possibly can.”
-
I would say that now Lauren has every reason to try her sexual skills on Kylie and get her to submit to her, now that she crushed the engagement ring that Rick gave to her, but the timing isn't right for that just now, as it appears that Allison finally got Kylie's attention, for the first time in a long time, without Lola in the picture, Allison is the primary muscle female other than Kylie. But we'll see where this goes from here. I look forward to it! k+!
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I so love everything Kylie does and crushes. Amazing story!
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I wonder I Kylie is actually interested by Allison or if she's planning come kind of cruel joke.
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Yes i agree a cruel joke
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I don't know if there are any Baki fans in the crew, but Kylie reminds me of Yujiro Hanma from that program. She is just on another level from everybody she goes against and at this time it looks like the story might end with her never losing.
Now there is at least one fight in Baki that Yujiro did not win (did not lose either, his opponent literally DIED temporarily, to stop the fight...this show is clearly a bit out there with what you can do with martial arts), and at one point Baki was able to go toe to toe with him, but to my knowledge Yujiro is never humbled.
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Part 4, Chapter 69
Kylie pulled Allison close into an embrace, and then began to sway her hips back and forth, as if dancing to music that only they could hear.
It was a surreal scene, and I couldn't help but remember when Allison and Kylie first met. Allison stood in our living room in a red slingshot bikini that showed off the cover-girl face and porn-star body that every guy in town dreamed of having, her face showing excited awe as she looked at my 12-year-old sister, as well as a spark of lust that I didn't notice until weeks later. Kylie stood in the kitchen in a wearing a pink sweatsuit that concealed a powerful muscular body that no other 12-year old could dream of having, her face showing practiced nonchalance as she looked at my 17-year-old girlfriend, as well as a spark of lust that I hadn't noticed at the time.
It had been little more than a year since that first fateful meeting, and now here they were, entwined in an embrace. Kylie was in control of Allison as they swayed back and forth, and as Allison melted into my little sister's embrace, I remembered something that Kylie had said last year, after she had mauled Kevin King and his friends in the park. Kylie had just told Allison that she preferred girls to boys, Allison had asked Kylie what type of girls she liked. Kylie's words rang in my ears. “Tall, red hair, green eyes, big boobs, fit, confident, sexually aggressive. And I especially like it when they have wimpy dorky boyfriends that I can steal them away from,” Kylie had said.
But Kylie didn't need to steal Allison from me. Allison threw herself at Kylie again and again, desperate for Kylie's attention, and slowly making herself into the kind of woman that Kylie wanted. And it looked like she had finally succeeded. Allison was savoring her prize, groping Kylie's shoulders back and arms as she stared lustily down at the busty 14-year-old juggernaut.
Finally Kylie spoke. “Is this close enough?” she asked.
“No,” Allison breathed. “I want to be closer. I want to be part of everything you do.”
Kylie found a stray scrap of Allison's torn green fishnet dress, and began to wind it around her fingers. “Would you like to help me work out?” Kylie asked. “You could towel me off when I get too sweaty, and you could touch my muscles and feel them getting bigger as I pump them harder and harder and harder. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” Allison gulped. “I want to see your power. I want to feel your strength.”
Kylie began to pull the green fishnet away from Allison 's body, revealing her creamy white flesh. “Would you like to worship me?” Kylie asked. “You could rub oil over every inch of my body, until I shine like the golden goddess that I am, and you could measure my muscles one at a time, and tell me how sexy they are. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” Allison panted. “I want to worship you. I want to bask in your beauty and your power.”
The sound of Allison's dress tearing filled the room as Kylie tore it from her body with one quick motion. “Would you like to sleep with me?” Kylie asked. “You could make love to the most beautiful women in the world, all of your bodies entwined while you touch me and kiss me and lick me, as I show you pleasures that no one else could even dream of. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” Allison begged. “I want to fuck you so bad!”
“Well why didn't you say so?” Kylie smirked.
Then Kylie leaned Allison over as if they were dancing the tango, her gigantic breasts spilling onto Allison, her pouty lips nearing Allison's own. Allison was breathing heavily now. “Please Kylie,” she panted. “Be gentle with me.”
“No,” Kylie said in a voice that dripped both honey and venom.
Then my kid sister and my ex-girlfriend locked lips, and Allison's body began to quake. Kylie's kiss was aggressive and passionate, and it made Allison tremble and squirm, her legs twitching and her fingers curling. Finally, Allison moaned as her body tightened with orgasm, a stream of ejaculate squirting from between her legs as Kylie pulled out of the kiss. “Oh Kylie,” Allison sighed dreamily as she slumped smiling into unconsciousness, draped over Kylie's muscle-packed arm. “I love you...”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said as she tossed Allison's naked body over her shoulder.
Then in a remarkable display of manual dexterity, Kylie used her free hand to open her purse, remove her phone and dial a number. “Bring the limo around,” she said into the phone. “The party was boring, but I'm going home with the hottest piece of ass, as always.”
“No Kylie!” a voice called out from the pile of exhausted adult actresses. “Don't leave me!”
“Please Kylie, I need you!” begged another, as pleas for Kylie's attention began to fill the room.
“Oh my perfect little muscle princess is so popular,” mom bragged to Lauren. “It's always been like this, you know. She's always been the belle of the ball.”
Kylie smirked arrogantly as she slid her phone back into her purse, and turned to leave with Allison draped over her massive shoulder, smiling as if she were having the best dream of her life. As Kylie walked past me I remembered the past year spent with Allison, and I remembered all the changes that she and I had undergone as we grew into ourselves, and despite the abuse and heartache that Allison had put me through, I felt a pang of sympathy for her. “She loves you,” I said to Kylie as she walked toward the door.
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said. “She's only told me like a million times.”
“No Kylie,” I said. “She really loves you. You mean everything to her. If you play with her and throw her away like you did with Lola, it will kill her. Please, for once in your life, be nice.”
Kylie stopped in her tracks at the threshold of the door, and turned to face me, sighing deeply as if she found my appeal to be exasperating. “Rick, I'm a total goddess,” she said. “I do whatever I want to whomever I want for as long as I want. And nothing is going to change that.”
“Kylie,” I said, looking my little sister in her cold blue eyes. “You can't keep treating people this way.”
Kylie rolled her eyes and sighed again. “First of all, yes I totally can. And maybe if you weren't so self-centered, and actually paid attention to me every once in a while, you would know that.” Then Kylie's tone changed from condescending to lascivious as she hungrily eyed Allison, and began to rub her muscular buttocks. “Second, if you knew anything about women or about passion, you'd understand that Allison would give her life and everything she owns for just one night with me. And you know what, she's going to get a lot more than one night with me. It might take a whole year for me to get bored of playing with this hot little body of hers. So really, I'm doing her a favor.”
“Oh my little angel is so generous,” mom gushed. “She always does so much to help others.”
“Kylie...” I said as she turned to go, grasping in vain for words that would melt her icy heart.
But then Kylie was gone, and without her imperious presence the room erupted into a flurry of activity, with the two record-keepers packing up to leave, and a 30 adult film actresses pledging their undying love to my muscle-bound 14-year-old little sister, and begging for her touch.
I looked uneasily at Lauren. I didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to say either.
Lauren and I tried to go out on the town, but we didn't feel much like celebrating, so we wound up sitting on our hotel bed, finishing our room service meals. Finally Lauren spoke. “It was really cool that you tried to stand up for Allison,” she said. “In spite of everything that she put you through.”
“It wasn't about Allison,” I sighed. “It was about Kylie. She can't keep treating people like this.”
“You're right,” Lauren said. “We have to do something. We have to stop her somehow.”
I was startled to hear Lauren's suggestion. “What can we do?” I asked. “She's rich, she's famous, she's super strong, and she can control women's minds somehow.”
“It's a sexual thing,” Lauren said. “Kylie has a sexual energy you can feel, even when you're in a different room. And when you're close to her, it's overwhelming. And by the way, guys go nuts over her too, especially online. It's just that women are a lot more sensitive to emotions and passions than men are. And emotionally unstable women are even more sensitive.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “So, when you're around Kylie..?” I asked.
Lauren shrugged. “I feel it too. It's impossible not to feel it. She has everything that women are attracted to and aspire to: the muscles, the confidence, the success, the perfect hair. ” Then Lauren saw my nervousness, and smiled reassuringly. “But don't worry, I'm not a headcase like Allison, or those porn stars. Besides, I'm not exactly an amateur when it comes to sex.”
I smiled and took Lauren's hand. “I guess I forgot,” I winked. “Maybe you should remind me.”
Lauren laughed as she set her plate down on the bedside table. Then before I could even blink, she had rolled across the bed, flipped on top of me, and gotten us both undressed in a display of gymnastic prowess that I seemed to defy the laws of physics. Lauren smirked as she straddled my midsection, gently flexing her soft round buttocks to massage my cock until it was fully engorged, and aching for her embrace. “I hope you don't need your brains tomorrow,” she whispered. “Because I'm going to fuck them out.”
-
I would say that now Lauren has every reason to try her sexual skills on Kylie and get her to submit to her, now that she crushed the engagement ring that Rick gave to her, but the timing isn't right for that just now, as it appears that Allison finally got Kylie's attention, for the first time in a long time, without Lola in the picture, Allison is the primary muscle female other than Kylie. But we'll see where this goes from here. I look forward to it! k+!
Thanks Jeremy.
You pointed out just about every loose end that I have to tie up. Hopefully I can end this story with a bang, not a whimper. :)
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I would say that now Lauren has every reason to try her sexual skills on Kylie and get her to submit to her, now that she crushed the engagement ring that Rick gave to her, but the timing isn't right for that just now, as it appears that Allison finally got Kylie's attention, for the first time in a long time, without Lola in the picture, Allison is the primary muscle female other than Kylie. But we'll see where this goes from here. I look forward to it! k+!
Thanks Jeremy.
You pointed out just about every loose end that I have to tie up. Hopefully I can end this story with a bang, not a whimper. :)
Haha, no problem, I've always tried to read this story close and point out certain things if I found them to be important, along with complimenting the parts that I enjoyed the most. This last chapter that you posted does seem to set that up. Maybe Lauren will set about seducing Kylie somehow, even though she seems to not have a lot of the things that Kylie values, maybe her resistance to Kylie's body and sensuality will be enough for Kylie to be on the hook. And then Lauren will fuck Kylie's brains out, causing Kylie to be in her thrall, like Kylie holds every woman she sleeps with in her thrall. I look forward to more! k+!
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What pleases me most was the rather decent exchange Rick and Kylie had towards the end there.
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May I say that I profoundly hope Kylie will triumph, turning the love of Rick’s life into one of her bimbo-licious sex toys before his agonized eyes? An unhappy ending for Rick, admittedly, but toe-curling orgasm overdrive for Lauren, and a smug, bitchy last laugh for the invincible Kylie. Please bring this epic saga to a suitable conclusion with Kylie standing over Rick’s uncontrollably weeping body on a magnificent double-biceps victory pose.
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May I say that I profoundly hope Kylie will triumph, turning the love of Rick’s life into one of her bimbo-licious sex toys before his agonized eyes? An unhappy ending for Rick, admittedly, but toe-curling orgasm overdrive for Lauren, and a smug, bitchy last laugh for the invincible Kylie. Please bring this epic saga to a suitable conclusion with Kylie standing over Rick’s uncontrollably weeping body on a magnificent double-biceps victory pose.
I sincerely hope, and think, this is where we are headed. Hopefully Kylie has time to make Superman her bitch in front of the world too >:D
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Part 4, Chapter 70
Lauren kept her promise, and when I woke up in the morning it felt as though I had gotten hit by a bus, with aches all over my body and my head swimming. However, I found the energy to go out and run an important errand while Lauren was getting ready. When I returned, Lauren was bent over her suitcase, packing up for our flight back home. Even in jeans and a simple blouse, her curvy little body excited me, and her shining black hair was hypnotic as it waved in the breeze from the fan. “Hey I have an idea,” I said. “Let's get lunch at the lounge where we first met.”
“It's got to be better than eating at the airport,” Lauren agreed.
A few minutes later we were walking into the nearly empty lounge, and laughing. “It's so tacky,” I said. “Even by Las Vegas standards. Did they redecorate it since we were here?”
“If so they need to ask for their money back,” Lauren said. “Maybe it looks better at night.”
“I probably didn't notice because I was distracted by this little hottie I met at the bar,” I said.
Lauren blushed and batted her eyes as we walked to the bar, and sat down in the seats where we first met. Then I reached into my pocket and took out the ring that I bought that morning. I had planned something corny and romantic to say, but I never got the chance because Lauren was upon me instantly, covering me with kisses. “Oh it's lovely,” Lauren said. “It's simple and elegant, and the diamond has perfect clarity. I can't believe I didn't see this coming.”
“You're probably still woozy from last night,” I joked. “I know I am.”
“I sure worked up an appetite,” Lauren said. “I hope the brunch here is better than the décor.”
The brunch was lousy, but it was the most enjoyable meal that I had eaten in a long time, because I spent it with the love of my life. By the time we got to the airport I was in high spirits. But it didn't take Lauren long to get serious. “So what are we going to do about your sister?” she asked as we settled into our business class seats.
I looked around nervously. “We can't talk about that here,” I said. “People could be listening.”
“Oh relax,” Lauren said. “Everyone around us is watching movies with their headphones on.”
“I don't know...” I said, scrutinizing the stewardess that approached us with hot towels.
“Come on Rick,” Lauren teased. “Kylie's not a real super-villain. She doesn't have spies.”
“I don't know,” I said, checking out the switches on my seat. “The plane might be bugged.”
“Do you know how much security you would have to circumvent to plant a listening device on a modern airplane?” Lauren asked. “And I'm not just talking about guards. The sweeps for bombs and detonators are really comprehensive. Kylie's way too direct for something like that. Besides, she doesn't care about technology unless it's something she can use to show off her tits.”
I laughed at Lauren's joke. “She just won't put those things away,” I muttered.
Once she sensed I was more at ease, Lauren went right back at it. “More than anything, I'm worried about the women that are living with Kylie,” she said. “They've cut themselves off from the outside world, and she's basically brainwashed those women into being living sex toys. Not to mention the millions of dollars in stolen gold and jewels that she manipulated them into stealing.”
“Should we call the police?” I asked. “We don't have any more evidence than they do.”
Lauren puckered in concentration. “Well, maybe we can go undercover at that palace of hers,” she suggested. “You're family after all. We can snoop around and find something incriminating.”
“What like in the movies?” I asked. “That's insane. If she catches us, she'll kill us.”
“I'm sure she wouldn't kill us, Rick,” Lauren said with a wink. “A few broken bones at worst.”
“No way,” I said. “No way we're going to snoop around like kid detectives on TV.”
Lauren smiled and batted her eyelashes as she coquettishly undid the top two buttons on her blouse to expose a plume of delicious creamy cleavage. “Oh, I'll get my way,” she purred.
“No way,” I said firmly. “That's not going to work. You're not going to get your way this time.“
Two days later, Lauren and I were standing at the front gate of Kylie's Palace of Pump, after elbowing through the herd of reporters and cameramen that followed Kylie's every move. “I told you that I would get my way,” Lauren giggled.
I nearly lost my breath when the gate finally swung open. Kylie's estate now took up most of the North side of town, and all across its manicured lawns athletically built women in skimpy clothes were running, lifting weights, or practicing martial arts. When we got to the front door of the palace, we were greeted by a tall beautiful blonde woman with a figure like a fashion model and muscles like a weightlifter, clad in a skimpy French maid outfit. “Welcome to the Palace of Pump,” she said. “Miss O'Reilly is in her chambers entertaining an important guest at the moment.”
“Oh that's okay,” Lauren said with delight. “We'll just look around. This place is great!”
“Actually, Miss O'Reilly instructed me to bring you directly to her,” the maid said with a curtsey.
“Hold on,” Lauren said. “You're Sara Stone, the crossfit champion. Why are you in that outfit?”
Sara smiled and blushed. “It's a game that Kylie likes to play,” she said. “She calls it 'good help is hard to find'. I dress like a maid and clean up around the place, and sometimes she catches me and scolds me for missing a spot, and then she ravishes me. I just wish there was less cleaning and more ravishing.”
Lauren and I looked uneasily at each other as the professional athlete turned indentured servant led us up the stairs and into Kylie's loft. Kylie was reclining on her chaise lounge, completely naked except for the gold and white silk loincloth around her waist, an extravagantly bejeweled headband on her head, and a collection of glittering rings on her fingers and toes. Beside her stood an elegant brunette woman in a smart suit, who fidgeted nervously as Kylie flicked through her phone. “Rick,” Lauren whispered. “That's Bea Buono, the Prime Minister of Hurdigurdistan! She's one of People magazine's 50 most beautiful people, and the former Secretary General of the UN!”
“Not bad, Bea,” Kylie said as she flicked through some photos on her phone. “Two dozen diplomatic license plates, and a whole case of diplomatic bags. This will keep the cops off my back.”
The Prime Minister blushed and nervously fixed her hair. “I just want to make you happy, Kylie,” she said anxiously, like a child awaiting a gift. “I would do anything for you. Anything.”
“I'll bet you would,” Kylie laughed as she motioned for Sara Stone, her maid. “But we had a deal. If you brought me diplomatic license plates for my cars and diplomatic bags for my things, I would let you lick whipped cream and cherries off of my body. We agreed on 3 cherries, didn't we?”
“Oh yes,” Bea Buono panted as Kylie's maid presented a gold serving tray with two small crystal bowls, one with cherries and one with whipped cream. “I was good, so I get to lick your body.”
“Well,” Kylie said, stretching her chiseled bulk out on her chaise. “Here I am. Get to licking.”
The gorgeous European woman was trembling with excitement as she spooned some whipped cream onto Kylie's right nipple, then daintily placed a cherry atop the fluffy white dollop. Kylie smiled as the sophisticated beauty got down on her knees, and placed her hands on Kylie's abs to brace herself as she leaned forward. But Bea Buono froze for a moment, staring at Kylie's muscle-packed torso as her hands grasped at Kylie's shredded abs and serratus muscles. “You seem a little distracted,” Kylie giggled as she began to stroke the older woman's hair. “See something you like?”
“Oh Kylie,” Bea said adoringly. “Your muscles are just so big, and so perfectly shaped. I never dreamed that that a woman could be so powerful, and yet so beautiful. You're a goddess.”
“Yeah I know,” Kylie said, stroking her massively meaty thighs as she examined the cuts in her quadriceps muscles. “But you better hurry and start licking up that whipped cream. Otherwise it might start to melt. Then you would have to lick all that sweet sticky cream from my muscles, running your tongue along the cuts of my diamond-hard eight-pack. You wouldn't want that would you?”
The Prime Minister of Hurdigurdistan closed her eyes and bit her lip, shaking as if trying to resist being overwhelmed by her lust for my kid sister. Carefully, she leaned forward and cradled Kylie's massive breast in both her hands, and then cupped her mouth around the whipped cream and the cherry as she moaned with ecstasy. “Lucky bitch,” Sara Stone muttered under her breath as Kylie giggled.
“Ooh. How nice. This isn't the first time you've sucked on a titty,” Kylie said to Bea Buono, who was now flushed with desire and licking her lips. “You're pretty good at it, in fact.”
“I spend every night thinking of how I can please you, Kylie,” Bea panted as she took another dollop of whipped cream, and plopped it onto Kylie's right bicep.
With a smile Kylie flexed her arm, and the glimmering whipped cream sat atop her towering bicep like a snowcap on a mountain. Bea Buono shuddered as she placed the cherry atop Kylie's titanic peak, and to steady herself she placed her left hand against Kylie's volleyball-sized forearm, and her right hand against the swell of muscle where Kylie's pectoral and deltoid met. “You two better wait downstairs,” Kylie said to Lauren and I suddenly. “I think I know where cherry number 3 is going, and it might take a while for her to finish licking everything she needs to lick.”
-
Interesting stuff, I mean it does seem like Kylie is becoming more and more powerful in terms of attracting the most powerful people politically, but the Prime Minister of a country, that is something special right there. I look forward to seeing where this goes, as always. You keep up the wonderful work, grbaclig, k+!
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Hurdigurdistan! XD
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Not gonna lie. I laughed pretty hard at that too. It's a good thing I wasn't drinking or my drink would have ended up all over me.
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Just a ridiculously good read.
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Part 4, Chapter 71
Sara Stone, dressed in her skimpy French maid's outfit, moved to escort us out of Kylie's loft, but froze as soon as she glanced back over her shoulder at the lesbian love scene that played out on Kylie's chaise lounge. Bea Buono, the former Secretary General of the United Nations, was kissing her way up the golden-brown boulder of Kylie's bicep, toward the blob of whipped cream that rested atop it, stopping only to lock eyes with Kylie as she licked up a trail of sticky white cream that had dribbled down Kylie's bicep, tracing the contours of the striated mound of muscle as it melted.
Sara slowly lost interest in us as Bea began to lovingly lick the whipped cream from around the cherry atop Kylie's arm, groping Kylie's bicep with both hands, her tongue strokes punctuated with proclamations of love and awe. “Oh Kylie, your muscles fill me a desire that I've never known before,” Bea panted. “The beauty and power of your physique are evocative of an Olympian ideal, but no sculptor of antiquity dared to dream of a body as perfectly muscled and bountifully endowed as yours.”
“I know that already,” Kylie scoffed. “But keep talking. Tell me how sexy my muscles are.”
“That lucky bitch,” Sara Stone muttered again. "I wish I got to lick Kylie's muscles."
Then, as if Kylie had heard her, she turned to Sara and winked flirtatiously, puckering her lips as she did. Sara blushed and giggled, squirming in her high heels and stockings as the beautiful head of state continued to worship my 14-year-old little sister's muscles. “Oh Kylie, to touch your body is ecstasy,” Bea Buono continued, stopping to slurp the cherry from Kylie's bicep, “to taste your skin is euphoria, and to smell your scent is... intoxication.”
“Now's our chance,” Lauren whispered to me as Sara Stone began to masturbate aggressively as she watched Bea crawl over Kylie's massively muscled body, working her way toward Kylie's pelvis with a bowl of whipped cream in her hand and a cherry tucked between her lips.
And so we crept downstairs, as the sounds of Bea and Sara moaning with pleasure mixed with the sound of Kylie giggling with amusement. “Where do we even start?” I asked. “This place is huge.”
“How about there?” Lauren said, pointing to a doorway in the distance that was out of sight of the front door, and guarded by a powerfully muscled raven-haired woman standing over six feet tall.
The guard carried and assault rifle, and wore a stern look on her face and a camouflage bikini wrapped around her hulking body. “Okay, how are we going to get past Rambo's sister?” I asked.
“Leave that to me,” Lauren said with a wink as she undid the top buttons of her blouse. “You just hide here behind this pillar and wait for my signal.”
I watched in nervous anticipation as my girlfriend casually approached the scowling amazon with a wave. “Hi, my name is... um... Jane,” she said cheerily. “I'm new here. What's your name?”
The towering woman looked down at Lauren. “You should not be here,” she said in a husky voice tinged with a Russian accent.
Lauren tucked her shoulders in, turned her toes inward, and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Ooh, the strong silent type,” Lauren said with a giggle.
“Go back to your exercises, little one,” the imposing guard said, smirking slightly.
“I know I should be exercising,” Lauren said, “but Kylie says that women should aggressively pursue what they want. And I've always had a thing for hunkettes. And your muscles are awesome.”
The guard's body language seemed to soften at the mention of Kylie's name. “So you want to touch my muscles?” the guard smirked as Lauren traced a finger along her muscle-cabled forearms.
“Actually, I want to eat your pussy,” Lauren purred. “And maybe touch your muscles later.”
The guard smiled and laid down her gun. “OK little one,” she said. “Let's have some fun.”
“Eep!” Lauren squeaked in alarm as the guard picked her up like a doll and flipped her upside down, so that Lauren's knees were resting on the big woman's broad shoulders.
Lauren's clung to the guard's torso, her hair hanging down and brushing the floor while her skirt was completely upside down, covering her torso and leaving her lower body completely bare except for her lacy black panties and black sandals. The hulking Russian woman smiled as she looked down at Lauren's panties. “OK little one,” the brawny woman chuckled. “Are you ready?”
“I'm ready,” Lauren said as she untied the guard's camouflage panties. “Are you?”
The guard smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but almost instantly her eyes popped open and her jaw went slack, as Lauren began to vigorously lick her vulva up and down. From where I stood, I could see Lauren's head bob up and down, and wiggle back and forth. The towering guard, once so formidable with her muscular physique and oversized assault rifle, was now whimpering and shaking, powerless as she slumped against the wall with her arms ramrod straight at her sides as he fingers curled. “Hvatit,” she moaned. “Perestan' lizat' menya.”
If Lauren understood what the guard was saying, but she didn't react. Instead she continued to wiggle her face in the amazonian Russian's crotch until finally, after nearly a minute of attention from Lauren's expert tongue, the tall woman collapsed against the wall and slid unconscious to the floor. As the guard fell, Lauren flipped gently forward, her left leg touching the ground followed by her right, landing gracefully on her feet as her skirt and hair flopped back into place.
Lauren was wiping her mouth with the fingers of her right hand when, suddenly, another hulking woman in a camouflaged bikini appeared from the door behind her. This woman was blonde and nearly as big as the first guard, and she instantly noticed her comrade slumped motionless on the ground. “What did you do to her?” she demanded, grabbing Lauren's left arm.
“The same thing I'm about to do to you!” Lauren said as she licked the fingers of her right hand.
Then Lauren expertly tucked her right hand between the blonde guard's bulging thighs, deftly maneuvering her fingers around the camouflaged bikini bottom until she was knuckle-deep in the amazon's vagina. “Oh. My. God,” the tall blonde moaned as she began to break out in a sweat. “What are... what are you doing... to my pussy?”
“Showing it the time of it's life,” Lauren said as the second guard slumped against the doorway.
The blonde woman mewled and closed her eyes, her body began trembling as Lauren continued to massage her vulva. After about 30 seconds Lauren reached out with her free hand and gently tweaked the guard's erect nipple through the fabric of her bikini top. At the touch of Lauren's fingers on her nipple, the guard gasped loudly and crossed her eyes, then dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes as liquid seeped from between her legs. Lauren casually licked her fingers as she peeked through the doorframe. Her eyes lit up and she turned back around, waving frantically for me.
As I joined Lauren at the once-guarded doorway, she grabbed me excitedly. “We did it, Rick!” she whispered joyously. “It's all in there! Just take a look!”
I looked through the doorframe down into a large basement, and was nearly knocked over with a blast of heat. Below us was a gigantic furnace where gold was being smelted and re-shaped by a bevy of well-muscled young women in leather aprons and industrial goggles. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they fed ingots bearing the marks of banks and governments into the furnace, and their muscles rippled with effort as they removed ingots from molds and stamped them with Kylie's Venus mirror logo. “I was right,” I muttered. “My kid sister is a super villain.”
“That's got to be at least $100 million in gold!” Lauren said, taking out her phone. “Let's get photos and videos. Be sure to get the markings on the ingots, so we can prove they were stolen.”
My nerves were on edge as I took photo after photo of Kylie's gold laundering operation, checking over my shoulder every second in case more guards arrived. Lauren took panoramic videos capturing both the stolen gold and the hallway, so there could be no doubt we were in Kylie's palace.
“OK,” I said, my knees knocking. “I think we have enough evidence, let's go.”
“Hold on,” Lauren said. “I'm uploading these to the cloud right now, just in case.”
Then the crushing realization of the moment hit me, and I felt sick with fear. My 14-year-old kid sister was not just the strongest, most muscular, most famous, and most desired person on earth. She was an honest-to-goodness super villain, complete with a decadent lair, armed guards, and an army of rigorously trained devotees. We were in trouble. “Let's go. Now!” I hissed.
Lauren and I moved quickly for the door, and even more quickly out of the Palace of Pump, our hearts racing, certain that we were about to be caught. But there were no guards in sight. We tried to look inconspicuous as we began down the walkway to the gates of Kylie's property, and to our freedom. But then our forward progress stopped. The ground fell away from me, and my feet dangled uselessly in the air as I was raised up into the air by a steely hands on my neck. “Oh no,” Lauren squealed as she dangled beside me, clutching her phone to her chest.
Then I heard a horrifyingly familiar giggle from behind me, and my blood turned so cold that my fingers and toes went numb. “Where do you two think you're going?” Kylie crowed as she raised us higher into the air, shaking us like ragdolls. “The party is just getting started.”
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Hurdigurdistan! XD
I hope that didn't offend anyone, or seem too crass. I was struggling to come up with a fake country name that sounded realistic, but didn't sound too similar to a real country. [try it yourselves, it's really hard to do]
Instead I just went with a combination of syllables silly enough to be in the Muppet show.
I'm happy that a couple people got a nice laugh at least.
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Just a ridiculously good read.
Thanks!
There have been some ups and downs, and I lost the plot once or twice, but I'm pretty happy with it.
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Oh-oh, could this be the final confrontation, the thing that leads to the end of the story? I have enjoyed this story a great deal, but I feel like the end should be coming soon, and if it is, then I'm completely okay with it, because this has been one of the longest, best written stories that I have seen on here. If it's not, then I look forward to seeing more of Kylie showing off her insane muscle and super strength. k+!
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Hurdigurdistan! XD
I hope that didn't offend anyone, or seem too crass. I was struggling to come up with a fake country name that sounded realistic, but didn't sound too similar to a real country. [try it yourselves, it's really hard to do]
Instead I just went with a combination of syllables silly enough to be in the Muppet show.
I'm happy that a couple people got a nice laugh at least.
No offence at all, it's hilarious! XD
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I really want to like this story, but I have a sinking feeling that it's going to end with Kylie winning, and that's gonna ruin it for me. But a fantastically written tale that I, for the most part, really enjoyed!
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Does this mean we aren't gonna see Kylie vs. Superman even though it was set up?
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It may still happen as a part of the ending part, after all, they did send those pics and videos to the cloud. They might have been sent elsewhere, like Superman's fortress of solitude. We'll see.
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Great set up. Hoping the about to be confrontation ends with Kylie easily winning and proving herself to be a literal goddess, capable of any feat. Just wish it also involved some sort of happy resolution between her and Rick (preferably hooking up with him coming to terms with her awesomeness), but given the rest of the story up to this point I'm doubtful.
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I'm rooting for Lauren, as my fetish for gentle-hearted strongwomen is more powerful than my festish for superstrong mean girls.
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Part 4, Chapter 72
Lauren and I crashed to the ground as Kylie released us. The front gate of her compound was mere yards away, but it was made unreachable by by a crowd of women who instantly encircled us. They were beautiful, muscular, and very angry. Looking upward I saw bulging thighs, chiseled abs, and ample underboobs all leading up to familiar faces that scowled down at me. Princess Honey was there, and Sara Stone and Bea Buono of course, but so were Allison and my mom. And in the middle of them all was Kylie, her face barely visible past the swell of her huge muscles and enormous boobs.
“Kylie's been so good to you,” mom sobbed. “And this is how you treat her?”
“You had a chance to worship me,” Kylie said, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you want to worship me. I know you want my body. I know you tingle with lust when you look at me.”
“I don't want to worship you and I don't want your body!” I yelled. “You're a brat and a bully and I hate you, and I've always hated you! And it doesn't matter if you kill me or crush my phone in your giant tits or whatever, because we've already uploaded the pics and streamed the videos!”
An awkward silence followed my outburst as the assembled women looked at each other in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?” Princess Honey asked.
“Nobody cares about you or your stupid phone, Rick,” Allison said. "Now shut up so Kylie can finish talking to Lauren."
Then, Kylie knelt down, gently took Lauren by the hand, and helped her to her feet. “Little Lauren Ling,” Kylie said, her lips puckering as she ogled my fiance. “Who would have known you would grow up to be such a hot piece, thick and thin in all the right places, with such a pretty face.”
“Th-thank you?” Lauren said with apprehension as Kylie straightened her shining black hair.
“I know you want me, Lingster,” Kylie said as she brushed a few blades of grass from Lauren's skirt and blouse. “I can feel your clit throb when you look at me. I could feel it throbbing when you saw my muscles in the locker room during PE back when we were kids, and I could feel it throbbing at my birthday party every time I flexed, and I can feel it throbbing now.”
Lauren gulped. “I... um... well...” she stammered, unable to form a sentence.
Kylie took a step back, put her hands on her hips and trust out her gigantic M cup boobs. “Check out this rack,” she crowed. “Have you ever seen a set of natural tits this big and this firm? “
“I-I can't say that I have, no,” Lauren said, blushing.
“And check out my nipples,” Kylie said, stroking her areolae with the tips of her index fingers. “These are wedding rings I'm wearing on my nips, from women who left their husbands to spend their lives with me, worshiping me and sharing in my sexual bounty. I have nine rings now, four on the left and five on the right. There's just enough room for one more, and I think yours would fit perfectly.”
“This is such an honor,” Bea Buono said to Lauren. “I'll never forget the day that I gave my wedding ring to Kylie, and I became hers forever. It's the greatest joy a woman can ever know.”
“Being chosen by Kylie means more than all my awards put together,” Princess Honey agreed.
Lauren fidgeted with her engagement ring as sweat beaded on her forehead. She tried to look at her feet, but her eyes kept stealing glances at Kylie, whose nearly naked body bulged with impossibly big muscles beneath perfectly tanned skin, as her icy blue eyes twinkled and her perfect hair shone in the sun. “Come on Lingster,” Kylie cooed. “I can hear your clit calling to you. Obey it.”
“No!” Lauren shouted suddenly, stomping her foot, and the crowd of women gasped.
Then Lauren threw herself onto me, and wrapped her arms around me as reporters and cameramen had began to haul themselves up onto the walls of Kylie's estate, drawn to the commotion in front of the Palace of Pump. “You ungrateful cunt!” Allison yelled, spittle flying from her mouth.
“Girl, you don't know what you're missing,” Princess Honey scolded, shaking her head.
“I don't care what any of you say!” Lauren said, her eyes now brimming with tears as we embraced. “I love Rick, and it's real love, not like your crazy lesbian sex cult... thing!”
For the first time in my life I saw a look of surprise on Kylie's face. “Wow Lingster,” she said, with an eyebrow cocked. “I don't think I understand. Are you saying you don't want to worship my muscles, you don't want to suck on my titties, and you don't want trib with me?”
“I only want Rick,” Lauren said, squeezing me so tightly I thought I might pop.
“And I only want you, Lauren,” I said softly.
Lauren kissed me passionately, and as we joined hands I felt the harmonious smoothness of her engagement ring, the ring I bought her after Kylie had crushed the first one. Throughout Kylie's entire life, she had dominated every task that she attempted, obliterated every opponent that she challenged, and enraptured ever woman that she pursued. And somehow, the love that Lauren and I shared had survived her twice.
“This doesn't make any sense,” Kylie said, squinting at Lauren. “You really don't want to fuck me?”
“She must be on drugs,” Allison said. “Or she's like a robot or something. Or maybe an alien?”
“I'm not on drugs,” Lauren said, sniffling as we rose to our feet. “And I'm not a robot or an alien or anything like that. I'm in love. And love is more powerful than lust or fear or anything else!”
“Well that's... that's kind of sweet, actually,” Kylie said. “Maybe I was wrong about you, Rick.”
With that, the crowd of musclebound beauties that had surrounded us parted, opening a way to the gate that led away from Kylie's Palace of Pump. As Lauren and I began to walk toward the gate, I could hear the women in Kylie's retinue talk. “He does kind of have a cute butt,” one said as I passed.
“Maybe men don't need to be beaten and humiliated all the time,” said another. “Maybe we could just, you know, keep them like pets. Like in little houses in the yard or something?”
“I wish I had the words to tell you how much you mean to me,” I said, choking with emotion as I held Lauren close. “You didn't just save my life today, you saved my heart and my soul.”
Then I heard Allison's voice cry out with shrill urgency. “Oh my God, Kylie!” she gasped. “You need to see this now! Look at these pictures!”
I felt a wave of panic wash over me as I felt my pants pocket and realized that, in the preceding chaos, I had left my phone behind. And my panic changed to horror as I turned around and saw my phone in Kylie's hand as she flicked through its contents, her face growing angrier and angrier.
“Richard, how could you spy on your sister?” mom sobbed. “After all she's done for you!”
“Blasphemy!” Bea Buono cried. “An unforgivable betrayal!”
And then, before we could blink, Lauren and I were surrounded again by a crowd of angry beautiful amazons, and at the center of them stood the strongest and most muscular human being alive, my 14-year-old little sister. Kylie scowled viciously as she crushed my phone into splinters of plastic in her small, girlish hand. “Well Rick,” she growled as she flexed her pecs, making her huge tanned tits hop up and down, “you've left me with no choice but to smother you with my jugs one last time. Do me a favor and take a deep breath, so I can watch you struggle a while before you suffocate.”
“Somehow I knew it would end this way,” I groaned, my body and spirit both sagging limply.
“But first,” Kylie said, tossing her hair, “it looks like the Lingster is going to be mine, after all. Whether she wants to be or not. But of course, she totally wants to. No woman can resist this body.”
“No,” said Lauren softly as Kylie began to swagger toward us.
Kylie stopped a few paces in front of Lauren, and gently moved her loincloth aside, revealing herself to my fiance. Lauren's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped open as a single tear rolled down her cheek. “Well” Kylie demanded. “What do you think? Is it great or what?”
“It's... amazing,” Lauren gasped a she fell to her knees. “With all the porn I've seen, and all the books female anatomy I've read, I never dreamed that anything could be so gorgeous, so... perfect.”
“You want to touch it, don't you?” Kylie cooed. “You want to lick it, don't you?”
“I... I...” Lauren stammered, her eyes glassy.
Lauren's lips trembled, Kylie giggled, and a cold painful chill ran through my heart. This was Kylie's final victory. Lauren was the only thing that had allowed me to rise above Kylie's constant bullying, and now Kylie was going to debase her in front of a crowd of cheering sycophants, and take her away from me forever. I had never felt more devastated or more hopeless in my life, and I began looking at the shards of my phone, to see if any of them were big or sharp enough to slit my wrists.
Then, all of a sudden, a hole erupted in the walls surrounding Kylie's estate, and through it came Superman, square-jawed and resolute as he landed on the lawn.
Reporters were swarming the estate now as Superman advanced on my little sister. “I knew you would slip up sooner or later, Kylie,” he said. “Every news outlet in the world is publishing the photos and videos of your ill-gotten gold, and every law enforcement organization on earth is calling for your arrest. Surrender yourself peacefully.”
“Look you big blue wimp,” Kylie snorted, “I don't know who you think you are, but no one comes onto my property without my permission. And no one interrupts me when I'm feeding my kitty.”
-
Great set up. Hoping the about to be confrontation ends with Kylie easily winning and proving herself to be a literal goddess, capable of any feat. Just wish it also involved some sort of happy resolution between her and Rick (preferably hooking up with him coming to terms with her awesomeness), but given the rest of the story up to this point I'm doubtful.
Thanks!
There are still a couple more chapters to go, and a couple more ups and downs, so stay tuned.
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Well, I kinda counted on this being close to the ending, with Superman coming in to try and take Kylie in, most likely failing because Kylie is just straight up stronger. And hopefully it will end happily with Lauren conquering Kylie sexually. But I did like that perhaps the love between Rick and Lauren made some of the women enthralled by Kylie look at men differently than Kylie has taught them. At least until the contents of Rick's phone were gone through. I look forward to the Kylie/Superman showdown, please, take all the time you need to make it as long and detailed as possible. k+!
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Can't wait for Kylie to demolish superbitch. Don't even care what happens to Rick and Lingster anymore as I'm to enthralled with Kylie's awesome strength. I feel like the only person able of stopping Kylie would be Kylie herself.
Love the graphical and exaggerated descriptions of everything—and especially Kylie!
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"This was Kylie's final victory" foreshadows that Kylie will lose the fight against superman in my opinion. I don't think she would stand a chance since her feats have been nowhere near superman's. It should be interesting.
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I mean, depending on the day Superman can move planets around and blow out stars with his breath, or if we're just looking at the modern character he can still fly faster than light and move absolutely ridiculous amounts of weight. Things like crushing a car or bending gold are trivial in comparison. Unless Kylie is concealing some really absurd levels of strength she shouldn't stand a chance, but that's usually the way these stories go.
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True, I think one time Superman actually punched a hole in reality. I think that perhaps Kylie may not be strong enough to take on a fully powered Superman, but she might be smart and evil enough to have some Kryptonite somewhere for this eventuality. I always enjoy reading stories of girls defeating a fully powered Superman, so I wouldn't be against Kylie being THAT strong, but I agree with you that she hasn't shown that she was nearly that strong yet. But maybe that's by design by grbaclig, so Superman's potential defeat means that much more. k+!
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Well as of late she's put in pretty much 0 effort in any strength feat she's shown. I'm hoping she doesn't bother with any kryptonite or anything, as it'd substantially diminish a win. I'd love to see her easily dominate and crush Superman in an absurdly one-sided fashion, maybe followed up by some planet or universe-level strength feat to make clear for everyone she IS in fact a goddess. Only wish Rick would genuinely agree with her and be happy about it...
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I definitely hope she overpowers superman at his full strength and has no problem doing it.
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I only know Superman through the 1980's movies, but it's like a god (or Goku). Without kryptonite, Kylie doesnt stand a chance. Would be better with Batman or Spiderman.
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Part 4, Chapter 72
Kylie's estate was a flurry of activity. Kylie stood glaring at the Man of Steel as her gleaming palace rose in the distance behind her, and her admirers mixed with reporters to form a wide circle around the two titans. Superman was a foot taller than Kylie, towering over her like the schoolgirl that she was, but Kylie's massive bulk and bountiful curves made Superman appear downright skinny in comparison. I grabbed Lauren, who looked up as me as though dazed, and carried her as far away as I could, shoving my way through the crowd, hoping that we could escape in the ensuing chaos.
We were about 10 feet from the front gate when steely hands grabbed my arms. “Where the fuck do you think you're going?” Allison hissed as she hauled me back toward the front of the circle.
“Richard, you are going to stay right here and support your little sister,” mom said sternly as she slung Lauren over her shoulder like a sack of groceries.
It was eerily quiet as Superman confronted my kid sister. “Kylie, you're an incredible young woman, and there are a lot of women who view you as a role model,” he said. “You owe it to your admirers to accept responsibility for your actions, and use your talents for the betterment of mankind.”
“Mankind?” Kylie snorted. “No thanks. I'm too busy working for the betterment of womankind. And if you don't get off of my property right now, I'll use my talents to crush you like a dumb blue bug.”
“I don't think you want to go down that road, Kylie,” Superman said. “I'm afraid you'll find I'm not as easy to push around as other men. After all, I'm earth's most powerful hero.”
“You're powerful?” Kylie scoffed. “I'm a pretty teenaged girl with huge boobs who lifts weights. What could possibly be more powerful than that? I mean, just look at this bountiful body.”
Superman averted his eyes as Kylie stretched her arms over her head and began to gyrate, her meaty peach-shaped buttocks pumping, and her enormous round breasts jiggling, as women began to hoot in appreciation. “That's enough, Kylie,” Superman said. “You're coming with me, but first you're going to put some clothes on. Girls your age should never be topless in public.”
“How dare you tell me how to dress!” Kylie snarled. “There's nothing wrong with women taking pride in their bodies. Besides, I'm not topless. I'm wearing wedding rings on my nipples, which I got them from women who left their husbands for me. And you know what, I've got room for one more. I was saving it for my brother's wife, but maybe I should introduce myself to your wife, instead.”
“I'm afraid we'll have to save the social niceties until after you've been rehabilitated,” Superman quipped, accepting a large trench coat from a nearby reporter. “Now put this coat on, and we'll leave.”
Superman tossed the baggy brown coat at Kylie, who snatched it out of the air with a look of disgust as she examined its dull unflattering shape. Then as cameras flashed around her, a wry smile crossed Kylie's face. “Sure,” she said. “I'll put this on right now.”
Kylie slipped into the oversized coat, as best she could. It was several inches too long, and the fabric pooled around her feet like the train on a dress, while the body could neither fit over her massive shoulders or conceal the gulf of cleavage formed by the way her titanic pectoral muscles forced her huge M cup breasts up and out of the lapels. “That will have to do for now,” Superman said. “Now-”
But before hen could finish speaking, Kylie smiled, and began to flex her muscles. “Oops,” she said, the sleeves rupturing into scraps as her colossal arms swelled with bulging boulders of muscle.
“God damn I love when she does that,” Allison muttered as Kylie hit a front lat spread that flayed the panels of the coat into ragged strips.
Kylie giggled as the annihilated coat fell from her body, once again exposing her golden brown muscle-packed skin and her oversized breasts. Kylie's golden bejeweled headband twinkled, the rings she wore on her digits and nipples sparkled, and the white silk loincloth did more to accentuate her body than to conceal it. “Looks like I'm just too sexy for clothes,” Kylie bragged.
From all around the circle women cheered and catcalled as Kylie hit a side chest pose that made her pecs rise up to her lips, and thrust her breasts dramatically in Superman's direction. The man of steel grimaced as he turned his head from Kylie's aggressively exhibitionistic display. “I was afraid something like this might happen,” he said, producing a bundle of blue fabric. “So I brought this Kryptonian fabric just in case. I think you'll find it's a little more durable than what you're used to.”
“Uh, no thanks,” Kylie said with a toss of her hair. “I've already worn clothes once today.”
For a moment, Superman stood waiting with his hand outstretched, offering the blue cloth to Kylie. But Kylie was ignoring him, choosing instead to admire her reflection in an enormous diamond that she wore on one of her rings. "Let's not drag this out any longer, Kylie," Superman said. “You know I can't attack a young girl such as yourself. But you also know that you're powerless to hurt me.”
“Powerless?” Kylie spat as she wheeled around. “Powerless!? I'll show you who's powerless!”
With blurring speed Kylie bolted forward, her tiny fist rocketing at Superman as she threw her entire body into a single punch. The silence of the gathered onlookers was broken only by an unimpressive 'thwack' sound as Kylie's fist bounced uselessly off Superman's stomach, as he stood unmoved. “This is one situation you can't bully your way out of, Kylie,” Superman said firmly. “Now please put on these clothes and come face justice, before you accidentally hurt someone.”
“You're the only one who's going to get hurt!” Kylie growled as she launched a spinning side kick into Superman's thigh, only to have it glance off his invincible quadricep.
Kylie's brow furrowed in frustration as she leapt at Superman's throat with her hands outstretched, only to have him grab her wrists, and hold her suspended off the ground. “Kylie,” he said, “I can do this all day. Now are you going to cover up your body, or do I have to do it for you?”
“I'll never cover up my body!” Kylie shrieked as she struggled in Superman's grip, thrashing her legs about in an attempt to kick him. “Now let me go! You can't do this to me! I am a goddess!”
“Well,” Superman said, gently releasing Kylie. “I guess you leave me with no choice.”
Then Superman leapt forward in a blur of speed, wrapping the blue fabric around Kylie's body until it hugged her torso and hips like a minidress. There wasn't enough fabric to wrap the entirety of Kylie's sprawling bulk, but Superman had wrapped her upper arms tightly to her body so that only her forearms could move freely, and although the fabric ran out six inches above her knees, it bound her sweeping thighs together. Kylie growled and strained, but the Kryptonian fabric held. She was only able to move her arms and legs a a mere inch, and even her nipples were subdued and invisible beneath the otherworldly blue cloth. “This isn't fair!” Kylie yelled. “You're cheating! It's not fair!”
“It's not fun to get pushed around by someone who's stronger than you, is it?” Superman said with a smile. “I'm sure all those men you injured didn't enjoy it either.”
“That... was... different,” Kylie grunted as she struggled against the unbreakable extraterrestrial wrappings. “They were... a bunch of wimps. I am a... perfect princess!”
“You'll have plenty of time to think about that in jail, your majesty,” Superman said with a wink.
Then Kylie yelled like a wild beast, her high-pitched girly shout echoing across the lawn as she jumped into the air, arms and legs still bound, and launched a double front kick into Superman's chest. Kylie's tiny feet crashed into Superman's chest with enough force to send out a shockwave that blew back the hair of the assembled women, and enough force to make Superman take a half-step backward as he steadied himself. A serious frown crossed the man of steel's face. “Unfortunately it looks like you've gone mad with power,” he said, zipping behind Kylie, wrapping his arms around her to pin her elbows to her tiny waist, and lifting her off the ground. “I wish there were a more appropriate way to restrain you, but you're out of control. And if you're going to behave like a child, I'll have to treat you like one.”
“Let go of me, you gross old man!” Kylie yelled as she thrashed about. “Let go! Let go! Let go!”
A smile crossed my face as Kylie's shrieked and kicked. She was a bully who became a celebrity because of some genetic fluke that allowed her to grow bigger and stronger than any teenaged girl ever should, but only a bully, after all. Faced with earth's most powerful hero, the whole world could see her for what she truly was: a spoiled little girl throwing a temper tantrum. “Give it a rest, Kylie,” Superman said as Kylie continued to kick and scream, her blonde hair whipping about wildly. “You're just going to have to accept the fact that I'm stronger than you.”
“No one. Is stronger. Than me!” Kylie growled, her nostrils flaring and and her eyes burning.
“No!” Allison moped. “Kylie can't lose! She's a goddess. She has girl power. And huge knockers.”
“She's not a goddess,” I said. “She's just a brat who's being taught a long overdue lesson.”
“Wait a second,” Lauren said, gasping in disbelief. “Look at her shoulders. Is she... getting bigger?”
It was hard to argue with her. The fabric wrapping that had covered Kylie like a minidress a few seconds ago now looked no bigger than a microdress, and her traps, once completely covered by the blue fabric, were now completely bare as they forced their way out of the restrictive wrapping.
Then to my horror small tears began to appear in the blue Kryptonian fabric, and Superman's arms began to shake, his hands pulling apart as Kylie began to flex her muscles.
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I only know Superman through the 1980's movies, but it's like a god (or Goku). Without kryptonite, Kylie doesnt stand a chance. Would be better with Batman or Spiderman.
I wouldn't expect a detailed, accurate and loyal adherence to the Superman canon--if only because I don't know anything about it.
Also, people take more glaring liberties all the time. I saw a John Wick movie where he got off an NYC subway train at 10pm, and the platform was empty. :what:
That having been said I'm hoping I can tie this all up in a satisfying package.
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Ah, there we go. Kylie has always been able to just will herself to be stronger.
Usually she'd be exactly the kind of character I'd want to win and rule the world in a story like this, but this story is somewhat unique - Rick is sympathetic enough and has been the viewpoint character the entire time that I really want to see him triumph and Kylie either take a fall, or at least end up in a position where she's less of a bitch. Usually I don't go for gentle muscle types but as others have pointed out Kylie is acting exactly like the kinds of people she disdains; she really is just a spoiled girl who's gotten everything she's ever wanted in a lot of ways.
At any rate it seems we're finally seeing how this story will conclude. Whatever direction it goes in I'm invested and I'm glad this story is getting a conclusion unlike so many sagas I've seen on here.
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Eh, I will say this story is becoming very dues-ex-machina-based. There was nothing to show that Kylie could grow at her own will. If she could she would have done so already, and its kinda like what the hulk does, except the hulk still loses to superman in most hypothetical cases. This isn't really a twist either; the author just snapped a variable into existence. If Kylie does win it'll be a poor ending in my opinion, because there's simply no hope even if she were 100 times stronger.
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Yeah, the first half of this chapter went pretty much the way I thought, based on what I know of Superman, which is pretty much what grbaclig knows, it's just based on the movies, I am not a big comic book reader, but it HAS been shown in past chapters that when Kylie is told she can't do something, she wills herself to do it out of spite, so this is nothing new. Growing stronger than Superman is another level altogether, but it is not something completely new out of Kylie as she has shown herself able to jump to levels unheard of when properly motivated, and being told what to do by a man is enough to motivate her, no matter how strong the man is. The only thing missing was Rick's traditional "No way!" When Kylie did something that was considered impossible before Kylie did it, lol. Anyway, good chapter, I look forward to more! k+!
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I'm not sure how I want it to end at this point. All I know is that I want to keep reading more chapters of this amazing story. Curious how big Kylie will grow to be—I'm hoping for deliberate and explicit descriptions of her size!
Definitely one of my favourite stories ever! K+!
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Yeah, the first half of this chapter went pretty much the way I thought, based on what I know of Superman, which is pretty much what grbaclig knows, it's just based on the movies, I am not a big comic book reader, but it HAS been shown in past chapters that when Kylie is told she can't do something, she wills herself to do it out of spite, so this is nothing new. Growing stronger than Superman is another level altogether, but it is not something completely new out of Kylie as she has shown herself able to jump to levels unheard of when properly motivated, and being told what to do by a man is enough to motivate her, no matter how strong the man is. The only thing missing was Rick's traditional "No way!" When Kylie did something that was considered impossible before Kylie did it, lol. Anyway, good chapter, I look forward to more! k+!
Even then, Superman in the movies is more powerful. He has laser vision, superspeed, superstrength, superintelligence etc. I think Kylie could pose a challenge, sure, but beating him altogether, when he's beaten far stronger opponents, is a bit of a stretch. It would be nice to see an end to her reign considering most of the story is just her succeeding.
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This has been a very wide ranging story in the first place, and I have enjoyed everything since I last commented. I did wonder if you were going to get her to beat Super somehow, and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't? I thought that was going to be one of the major "ups and downs" you were talking about, but perhaps it's just as good this way too. I do so enjoy the "cartoonish" aspects of your stories, so I will absolutely read on.
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Enjoying how it's playing out, looking forward to her willing herself to full blown goddess. Hoping she ends up so absurdly strong she kills Superman with ease just using her boobs or something. No surprise with Rick's reaction, though I was hoping he'd show concern for her and want her to win.
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I'm just going to point this out. I might be wrong, but I want to see if it plays out a certain way.
It was stated this match with Superman will lead to her downfall.
The fight is actually rather one sided.
In the final lines of the last chapter, she is losing her mind after she is finally being shown that life is not always fair to everyone and willing herself to grow bigger.
Those types of meltdowns are a BIG "uh oh, wrong move" action for a supervillain, and usually end VERY BADLY for them.
Like I said, I might be wrong. We'll just have to see keep reading and see where this goes.
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I see Kylie winning for two reasons.
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I see Kylie winning for two reasons.
Whoops, pressed enter by accident.
1. Kylie winning would go against every readers expectation, making the story more memorable (whether it's a good memorable or a bad memorable, you the reader decide).
2. Authors story. He wants Kylie to win, so be it. We just sit back and enjoy the ride.
I do like that last chapter, even with the plot armor boost.
What I would expect is a decent fight to ensue.
Grab the popcorn people, this will be great.
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I'm fine with Kylie beating up Superman. This story is completely over the top. That's what's enjoyable about it. I just want a happy ending. Whether that means Kylie finally loses to Superman or Lauren's sexual skills (where I think this will actually go), or if she does will herself into becoming an actual goddess and somehow being a benevolent one, I just want a happy ending.
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I want a happy ending for Kylie! Our bad girl antiheroine should make Superman (who is only a man after all) and Lauren (who has shown a rising, addictive attraction to the irresistible Kylie) her newest submissive pets. It’s the only correct conclusion!
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For those of you who recall, grbaclig also wrote a story called Hostile Work Environment that ended in a shocking twist of the woman who was built up over the course of the story as being strong, dominant, and unstoppable being dominated in bed by the sexual skills of a woman who was portrayed as meek throughout the entire story. And unlike with that story, that same twist has been foreshadowed here, with Lauren being the one to take down Kylie. The question is will it actually happen that way? I'm thinking so.
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I see Kylie winning for two reasons.
Whoops, pressed enter by accident.
1. Kylie winning would go against every readers expectation, making the story more memorable (whether it's a good memorable or a bad memorable, you the reader decide).
2. Authors story. He wants Kylie to win, so be it. We just sit back and enjoy the ride.
I do like that last chapter, even with the plot armor boost.
What I would expect is a decent fight to ensue.
Grab the popcorn people, this will be great.
I think the opposite is true. Everyone expects Kylie to win (including you since the second point shows that you expect Kylie to win). I think people are just obsessed with the woman taking control the whole time, but I think it becomes almost comical and ridiculous. It's like saying Kylie could defeat God if she willed herself, which isn't a great plot device. Every villain has someone that stops them, and nobody expects Superman to win in this case because of plot.
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Part 4, Chapter 74
I broke out in a cold sweat as I stood among a crowd who watched in hushed silence as Superman, earth's most powerful hero, struggled to contain the bulging muscular power of my little sister. “Stop trying to fight me, Kylie,” Superman said as he braced his feet against the ground for leverage. “You're not going to win this time.”
“I. Always. Win!” Kylie shouted.
Then, with a shout, Kylie whipped her head backward and struck Superman squarely on the bridge of his nose. The man of steel winced, and relaxed just enough for Kylie to squirm from his grasp, somersaulting across the lawn until she sprang to her feet a few yards away, her icy blue eyes locked on Superman, who returned her gaze with a look of frustration.
Superman's look of frustration quickly changed to a look of surprise as Kylie began to spread her body out wide, her arms and legs pulling the blue fabric as tight as spandex, while the tiny tears in the edge of the fabric began to grow as she pressed against her silky blue prison. “I am... the strongest one... there is!” Kylie barked, her angelic youthful face grimacing with effort as she strained.
Then a ripping sound echoed through the air as Kylie's nipples tore through the blue fabric, the gold and diamonds that ringed them twinkling in the sunlight, and Kylie smiled. Then, with a shout, Kylie tore herself free of the extraterrestrial cloth that had kept her restrained for a few fleeting moments, letting it fall to the ground in scraps at her bare feet as she pulled herself up to her full height and puffed out her chest to display her body to the assembled crowd. “Holy shit Rick!” Lauren gasped, swearing for only the second time since I had met her. “She did get bigger. She's gigantic!”
It was hard to argue with her. Kylie didn't look any taller than she had a few seconds ago, but she looked bigger. A lot bigger. Her muscles were bulging slabs and interwoven cables, twitching and rippling under her flawless tanned skin even as she stood still to bask in the adoration of the women around her, who began to cheer and whistle. “I have to admit that was a pretty good workout,” Kylie crowed. “I don't remember the last time I had to push myself that hard. I am totally pumped.”
As if to prove her words, Kylie hit a myth pose, raising her massively thick arms overhead, flaring her expansive lats outward and hardening her waspish midsection into a tableau of rocky muscles. There was no doubt about it. My kid sister had gone into the wrapping of Kryptonian cloth as the most muscular human being on earth, with 36” arms, 44” thighs, and a 75” chest. And she had emerged even bigger. “How is this possible? Lauren murmured in amazement. “And how can she even move with that much muscle on such a small body? And did her boobs get bigger, too?”
“Hell yeah they did!” Allison said excitedly.
"My perfect little muscle princess gets more amazing every day!” mom gushed. "Oh I'm so proud of her!"
My grim curiosity got the better of me as I began to wonder how big Kylie was now. Her arms must be over 40” around, and her thighs over 50”, I thought. Naturally, Kylie was just as impressed with physique as everyone else, if not more so, and she was still exalting in her own muscularity as Superman approached her. “Okay Kylie, you've had your fun,” he said as he slowly and steadily reached out to Kylie, as if she were a wild animal. “But now it's time to-”
“Don't interrupt me while I'm posing!” Kylie snapped. “The world needs to see this body. Everyone has to know how hot my big pumped up muscles are, so they can worship me.”
Superman frowned. “Kylie-” he began.
“I said don't interrupt my posing!” Kylie yelled, launching another punch at Superman.
Once again, Kylie's small fist streaked into Superman's stomach. But this time the man of steel buckled, grunting as Kylie's punch landed with a resounding 'thunk'. Superman collected himself immediately, but all around Kylie's estate, women perked up. Predictably, Kylie went right back to posing, pointing the tiny toes on her dainty foot, and making her titanic thigh harden into columns of vastus and femoris muscles, each of which was as big as a normal teenaged girls entire thigh, and framed by a network of chiseled adductor and tensor muscles as thick as lead pipes. Below her diminutive knee her calf swelled into a split block of heart-shaped muscle as big as a cinder block and just as sharply beveled. “Kylie,” Superman said, “I'm not going to fight you, but-”
“Too bad, because I'm going to fight you!” Kylie growled, once again interrupting earth's most powerful hero as she swung her left heel up into the air in a technically perfect roundhouse kick. "I told you not to interrupt me!" she yelled.
Kylie's kick whistled through the air, moving so quickly that her leg looked like a golden brown blur, but Superman deftly stepped backward and caught her heel in his hand. And then as if she had planned on that very occurrence, Kylie leapt into the air and rotated her hips with a sharp twist of her body, her abdominals rippling with dozens of chiseled muscles, and swung her right heel into Superman's face, where it landed with a solid 'thud' that made the man of steel flinch and release his grip on her left foot. “Kick his ass, Kylie!” Princess Honey cheered as Kylie pirouetted away from the man of steel, landing with catlike grace on the lawn, her back turned to Superman.
Superman recovered from Kylie's kick almost instantly, and lunged forward while her back was turned, grabbing her around her slim girly wrists. “Playtime is over, little girl,” Superman quipped as he began to rise into the air, with Kylie in tow. “I'm going to put you in timeout, for 15 to 20 years.”
“Little girl!?” Kylie snarled. “I'm not a little girl! I'm 14 years old! Don't you dare patronize me!”
Superman was rising rapidly out of sight when Kylie's left foot flashed upward in an axe kick, her body curling so that she could reach over her muscle-swollen trapezius and bring her shin crashing into Superman's face. Superman recoiled, apparently caught off guard by Kylie's attack, allowing Kylie to wrench her wrists free from his grip. Immediately Kylie began to freefall, hurtling toward the earth a good 50 feet below. “Oh no!” mom cried. “My perfect little angel! Someone help her!”
But before the rest of the crowd could react, Kylie tucked her massive legs and began to somersault, her blonde hair tracing a yellow streak through the air as she plummet ted toward the earth. As the assembled crowd of journalists and Kylie's thralls held their collective breath, Kylie hit the ground in a perfect gymnastic landing, her arms raised overhead and her face beaming with pride, even as the polished marble walkway upon which she landed cracked from the impact of her dainty bare feet. “Ta-da!” Kylie crowed. “Gymnastics for the W! I stuck that landing, no cap.”
Superman was back on the ground immediately, scrutinizing Kylie closely with his X-Ray vision as she made a show of blowing kisses to the crowd around her, as of she were so preoccupied with showing off that she had forgotten she was facing off against earth's most powerful hero. “You're not a normal little girl at all, are you?” Superman asked cautiously. “Your body displays a level of size, strength and density that no normal human could ever achieve. So what's your secret?”
“My 'secret' is that I work harder than anyone else, focus harder than anyone else, and pump harder than anyone else!” Kylie growled. Then she stomped her foot indignantly, causing the gold-streaked marble on the walkway to crack even more. “And for the last time, I'm not a little girl! I'm 14 years old, I can drive a car, and I stay up as late as I want!”
Superman examined the fractured marble of the walkway. “You're starting to do collateral damage, Kylie” he said. “And with so many civilians around I'm sure you don't want-”
“No!” Kylie shouted, cutting Superman off mid-sentence as she pointed a slim bejeweled finger at the cracked stone at her feet. “You're doing collateral damage! You made me ruin this gold Calacatta marble, which I totally love, when you tried to beat me by flying, which is totally cheating!”
“You're just delaying the inevitable with these temper tantrums, Kylie,” Superman said. “Now come with me before someone gets hurt. We'll get you dressed like a normal little girl, then-”
“I'm not a little girl!” Kylie shrieked at the top of her lungs as she shot forward, driving a massive basketball-sized shoulder into Superman's midsection. Superman buckled for a second, but was able to shift his feet quickly to retain his balance. For about a second. As soon Superman picked up his left foot, Kylie hooked her right arm under his left leg and yanked his body toward her, twisting at the waist and slamming him onto the luxurious walkway with enough force to send chips of marble flying. A cautious cheer went up from Kylie's devotees as she painstakingly took mount position on Superman, using her unparalleled grappling skills to counter his every attempt to dislodge or escape her. “That's a pro move,” Allison said to mom. “He can't fly or punch or anything if he's trapped on his back. It's matchup of skills when you get to the ground, and nobody can match up with Kylie.”
“That may be true with normal people,” I said. “But Superman is a lot stronger than Kylie.”
“Um, is he though?” Allison laughed, pointing to the two titans locked in combat on the ground.
I gulped. Kylie was straddling Superman's chest, her slender hands wrapped around Superman's wrists, and was attempting to pry his arms apart to expose his face to strikes. Superman was trembling with effort as he fought to keep his arms close to his body and face, but his arms were slowly beginning to spread apart as Kylie pulled harder and harder. “No way,” I said. “This can't be happening. She can't be this strong.”
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Very flattered to see all the discussion in here, especially the people who noticed that Kylie has been performing her feats of strength effortlessly for about 20 chapters, and that she exhibits exactly the same kind of domineering behavior that she dislikes in others.
This story went off the rails a while ago, so I'm try to use details like that to give it some semblance of focus and consistency, so that it won't crash completely before it reaches its conclusion. Wish me luck.
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* grabs popcorn * this is intense...
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This may be Superman's toughest battle since Doomsday, he better start fighting back or he may have no chance at all to stop Kylie. She is intent on showing that he may be the Universe's Strongest Man, but he's still a man, and her, being a girl, is superior. Again, I have hopes that Kylie doesn't win the day, that someone will be able to stop her before she goes too far, but I don't mind if she overpowers and defeats Superman before she does. k+!
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Hm, looks like there is something or someone behind Kylie's strength. I wouldn't be surprised if she is a product of some villain's experiment. Maybe it's even Lex Luthor's doing.
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The amount of speculation and discussion shows how awesome this whole story is. Love how huge Kylie has become, even though it is getting harder and harder to imagine her. :wow:
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I really like the idea of a girl cutting superman down to size. Something that should be done more often.
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You seem to use "It was hard to argue with her" an awful lot lol
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I love where this story is going, even if I still hope that Kylie ultimately loses.
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It's almost like grbaclig is like Kylie here; the more people say they want her to lose, the more he writes her winning haha
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Judging by grbaclig's other stories, the likelihood of this one ending with Kylie not being totally dominant and in charge is very unlikely. Also, aren't we all loving this story because we're into huge muscle girls getting their way?
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That’s a good point. I’m certainly not here to read about women who aren’t stronger than men. I’ve always been more interested in the kinder gentler amazon myself, but what I really enjoy reading about is women who completely overpower guys. So what I’d most like to see is Kylie reveal that she was just toying with Superman, an then proceed to effortlessly overpower him. But then that’s just me.
By the way, I don’t post much, but I love your story here. It’s the thing I look forward to most on this site at the moment.
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Part 4, Chapter 75
The crowd murmured with excitement now as, after minutes fruitless aggression, my 14-year-old kid sister seemed to have gained the upper hand against earth's most powerful hero. “It's not possible. She can't be this strong.” I said to myself again, as if repeating it would make it so.
“I don't know, Rick,” Lauren said forlornly. “Just look at her. She's just so... huge.”
It was hard to argue with her. Kylie's back was well over 3 feet wide, and was knotted with thick lumps of deeply carved muscle that throbbed with strength as she struggled against Superman, slowly pulling his arms away from his face, as she and he both trembled with exertion. “You're... pretty strong...” Kylie said through gritted teeth, “but no one... is stronger... than me!”
Then with a high-pitched girly roar, Kylie pulled Superman's arms as hard as she could, spreading them wide and exposing his face and torso for her next attack. I braced myself for the possibility of my kid sister raining punches down on the man of steel like she had done to other men trapped by her grappling skills. But instead Kylie fell forward and flopped her enormous tanned breasts onto Superman's head, swallowing it completely in the jiggling flesh of her bosom. All around the estate women cheered wildly and whistled loudly as Kylie wobbled her gigantic tits on Superman's face and laughed. “Hey everybody! Superman is touching my boobs, even though he says I'm a little girl.” she teased. “What a creep! Someone should take him to jail!”
Allison and mom laughed uproariously as Kylie continued to shame earth's most powerful hero with her oversized breasts, and all around us women began to taunt the man of steel. With a shout, Superman bucked his shoulders up off the ground, and sent Kylie flying. Kylie rolled across the manicured lawn for several yards before she was able to get her feet underneath her, skidding to a halt as soil and grass flew up around her tiny feet like water being splashed by the tires of a high performance car. Kylie tossed her hair as she casually walked back toward the center of the crowd, the shredded muscles in her calves, thighs, hamstrings, and glutes bunching and contracting with every step she took. “Your legs look sick right now Kylie,” Sara Stone swooned as Kylie walked past her.
“Yeah I know,” Kylie said casually as she stalked toward Superman, who had risen to his feet again, and was straightening his hair, which had been mussed by his encounter with Kylie's breasts.
“You might be of the sickest criminals I've ever encountered,” he said. “I'm starting to think-”
But Superman didn't get to finish his statement, because Kylie leapt at him again. But this time he was ready, zipping several steps backward in the blink of an eye, so that Kylie's momentum would bring her crashing to the ground at his feet. But that's not what happened. In an incredible display of gymnastic ability, Kylie curved her body in midair to alter her trajectory, transforming her explosive leap into a graceful dive. Instead of crashing onto her stomach at Superman's feet, she landed with her small hands planted firmly on the ground, and snapped into a perfect handstand, facing away from Superman with her heels in front of his face, her enormous breasts hanging firmly down, and her loincloth barely concealing her as she held it between her legs. Immediately Kylie began to twerk, making her tanned meaty dimpled buttocks jump up and down in a complex rhythm. “Hey everybody! Superman is looking at my bare butt, even though he says I'm a little girl.” she teased. “What a perv!”
As the assembled women began to hoot and cheer for Kylie's audacity, the man of steel averted his eyes, grimacing. The second he turned his head, Kylie clamped her calves around his neck. Superman was stunned for just a second, trapped between two sculpted blocks of female muscle nearly as big as his head, and that second was all Kylie needed to curl her hips to her chest as if she was performing crunches, swinging Superman over her body and onto the ground below her. Once again, Superman was lying on his back, with my 14-year-old little sister atop him, but this time instead of having his waist trapped between her thighs, his neck was trapped between her calves. Kylie giggled as she rubbed the chiseled, upside-down heart shapes of her massive calf muscles against Superman's neck. “What do think about my legs?” she teased. “Are they hot or what? Some people say that my calves are my best feature, but I'm not sure. What do you think?”
Superman couldn't answer. His head was tilted uncomfortably, and his face and neck were squeezed so tightly between the rock hard blocks of Kylie's calf muscles that he couldn't open his eyes or mouth. He put his hands on Kylie's knees and attempted to pull them apart, but Kylie just laughed at his efforts, wiggling her tiny girly toes. Finally, in an act of either fear or frustration, Superman raised his fists and slammed them down onto Kylie's thighs, causing her to relax her legs as she yelped in pain. “I'm sorry I had to do that, Kylie,” Superman said as he rose to his feet. “I know I promised that I wouldn't hit you, but you've gone too far, and those hammer strikes to your femoral nerve clusters should immobilize you long enough for me to-”
Superman didn't get to finish his sentence. If Kylie was immobilized, it was only for a second. She sprang to her feet and charged him like an American footballer, the explosive force of her tackle knocking him to the ground instantly as the women around me cheered even louder. Kylie had the man of steel on the ground again, this time pinned on his side with her enormous legs immobilizing his right arm as she used both her her hands to control his left. “You should spend more time working on your ground game, and less time flying around like a big blue dummy,” Kylie taunted. “I work out with 8-year-old girls who have better technique than you. If you didn't have your stupid powers, you would get owned by 8-year-olds.”
“You're never... going to win,” Superman said as he strained against Kylie with all his might. “I've been in... tougher situations than this, and I... never surrender.”
“Fight back as much as you want,” Kylie giggled. “This is a great workout. I've never been this pumped before. I can't wait to start flexing. Your puny muscles are going to look tiny next to mine.”
Then Kylie began to methodically move Superman onto his back by moving her legs, expertly in control of his body as she shifted her hips one way, and pressed her foot against his thigh another way, until once again the man of steel was on his back and she was perched on his chest. Kylie laughed as she wrapped her thighs around Superman, and began to squeeze. And as earth's most powerful hero began to groan in pain, the assembled women began to chant Kylie's name. Kylie beamed with pride as she blew kisses to her fans and waved for more cheers, basking in the attention she was receiving, all the while slowly squeezing her thighs tighter. “Now's she's just showing off,” Lauren said.
“She's always showing off,” I sighed.
And as if she heard me, Kylie put her hands on her head and flared her lats above her tiny waist like the hood of a cobra. Then she puckered her lips and began to flex her pecs--first the right, then the left and then both together—over and over and over. The mammoth slabs of her pectoral muscles popped and hopped, churning like hydraulic pistons under her tanned skin, which ebbed and flowed with striations when she flexed and relaxed. And as she flexed, her enormous round breasts bounced up and down, wobbling in symmetrical precision, as she had somehow trained them to jiggle in harmony. Kylie's curvaceous muscularity and outrageous bustiness provided an intimidating display of excessive femininity, all around me men shrank in fear and women cheered hysterically. Now the assembled women began to peel their panties off, and throw them to Kylie, as Superman struggled to pull her thighs apart with his arms. “It's times like this I wish I wore underwear,” Allison sighed.
As panties rained down on her, Kylie leaned forward again, dangling her gigantic breasts over Superman's head and dragging them lightly across his face as he forced his eyes closed to avoid seeing them, and turned his head to avoid touching them. He put his hands on the massive swell of Kylie's deltoids to try to push her back, but she grabbed his wrists and held his arms outstretched as she continued to torment him with her colossal hooters. “What's wrong, Superman?” Kylie jeered. “I thought men liked tits. Well from now on, you're going to hate them. From now on, whenever you see boobs, you're going to think of me, and how I dominated you.”
Bea Buono was crying tears of joy as she kissed her lacy white panties before hurling them toward my kid sister. “Humiliate him, Kylie!” she cheered. “Teach him to fear women!”
Then with triumphant smile on her face, Kylie leaned forward and smooshed her enormous breasts onto Superman's head, once again swallowing it completely in the jiggling flesh of her bosom. Superman groaned from beneath the prison of tanned flesh that wobbled around his head as the women around us hugged and kissed. But suddenly Kylie shrieked and leapt off Superman's body, wiping a streak of blood from the underside of her left breast. “Did you just bite my breast?” she demanded coldly, her emotionless demeanor more intimidating that her temperamental bellowing.
“I can't believe it's come to this, Kylie,” Superman said grimly as he rose to his feet. “But you finally brought me down to your level. if you want to fight dirty, I can do that.”
“Oh he's fucking dead,” Allison said with a sadistic laugh.
“Okay wimp,” Kylie snarled. “We're done playing around. Now you've made me mad.”
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You seem to use "It was hard to argue with her" an awful lot lol
Since chapter 1. :)
I use repeated dialogue and event structure to give the story a feeling of cyclical inevitability, kind of like an epic poem. And also because I'm kind of a lazy writer.
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That’s a good point. I’m certainly not here to read about women who aren’t stronger than men. I’ve always been more interested in the kinder gentler amazon myself, but what I really enjoy reading about is women who completely overpower guys. So what I’d most like to see is Kylie reveal that she was just toying with Superman, an then proceed to effortlessly overpower him. But then that’s just me.
By the way, I don’t post much, but I love your story here. It’s the thing I look forward to most on this site at the moment.
Thanks for the kind words. I have some good news for you...
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I use repeated dialogue and event structure to give the story a feeling of cyclical inevitability, kind of like an epic poem. And also because I'm kind of a lazy writer.
Much like poetry and Star Wars. It rhymes.
But in all seriousness I see that Kylie is going to win at this point, there's no denying that. I just hope Rick gets a happy ending right now and for her to realize her hypocrisy.
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Now we're getting down to it. >:D Rick should just sit back, stop fighting it, and enjoy the show like the rest us.
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Yeah, it seems to me that once again, Kylie is proving to be so insanely strong, fast, and tough that now, if Superman decided to fight her straight up, I don't think he would be able to do much damage, she has just grown too strong in the last couple of chapters, I can only guess that Superman has no chance to defeat her, but there could be a chance of a happy ending yet. I look forward to more, as always. k+!
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Yeah, it seems to me that once again, Kylie is proving to be so insanely strong, fast, and tough that now, if Superman decided to fight her straight up, I don't think he would be able to do much damage, she has just grown too strong in the last couple of chapters, I can only guess that Superman has no chance to defeat her, but there could be a chance of a happy ending yet. I look forward to more, as always. k+!
I think the only question now is will Kylie let superman live when she is finished with him?
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I know this is probably me just speculating,
I suddenly have a feeling, what with the prior foreshadowing and the fact this fight seems incredibly one sided, that there might be a surprise coming. And it's one that Superman has lost to multiple times, and Batman has no planning for. One being that everyone has forgotten is stronger than Superman, as well trained as Batman, as fierce as the forces of Apokolips, is completely unafraid of killing when need be and would absolutely make Kylie struggle with sheer experience alone.
So, I have a question: In this world that's apparently set in the DC Universe, where's the one being who is the first to protect Earth's heroes?
Where's Diana?
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Oh my fucking god. YES! The only person I hope that could take her down at some point is Lola Lopez, as she turned to the good side. But I definitely wouldn't mind if that didn't happen, I greatly enjoy reading about Kylie dominating everything and everyone. I hope the fight is soon over and it quickly turns into Kylie just toying with superbitch.
How big are her breasts now? Each one bigger than his head?
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You seem to use "It was hard to argue with her" an awful lot lol
Since chapter 1. :)
I use repeated dialogue and event structure to give the story a feeling of cyclical inevitability, kind of like an epic poem. And also because I'm kind of a lazy writer.
I believe the last part lol. Its not dialogue btw; it's prose. XD
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I know this is probably me just speculating,
I suddenly have a feeling, what with the prior foreshadowing and the fact this fight seems incredibly one sided, that there might be a surprise coming. And it's one that Superman has lost to multiple times, and Batman has no planning for. One being that everyone has forgotten is stronger than Superman, as well trained as Batman, as fierce as the forces of Apokolips, is completely unafraid of killing when need be and would absolutely make Kylie struggle with sheer experience alone.
So, I have a question: In this world that's apparently set in the DC Universe, where's the one being who is the first to protect Earth's heroes?
Where's Diana?
Maybe in this world this is "Wonder Woman"'s origin.
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Maybe in this world this is "Wonder Woman"'s origin.
As someone who is a big fan of Wonder Woman, the character ALL ABOUT LOVE AND COMPASSION, EVEN MORE SO THAN SUPERMAN! I find this idea horrifying. Dom Diana is a thing, but not like this. Never like this. Not even Zombie or Cyborg Zombie Diana are this bad.
Still tho, this is fun. Just not that.
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Part 4, Chapter 76
Superman didn't waste any time. Like a flash he threw a right cross that rocketed like a blue blur at my 14-year-old sister. His punch moved so fast that it was barely visible, at least until it came to an abrupt halt when Kylie stopped it cold with her left hand, as if a punch from earth's most powerful hero were no more than a toy ball that had been gently lobbed at her.
Then Superman swung his left hand in a massive overhand haymaker, which like his earlier punch was nearly invisible to the naked eye until Kylie stopped it, easily swatting it away with her right forearm as she snorted derisively at his efforts, and rolled her eyes.
Now with Kylie's arms occupied and her ribs exposed, Superman struck at her midsection, rolling his hips and landing a sweeping roundhouse kick to the oblique muscles on the right side of Kylie's body. But despite his great strength and the incredible velocity of his kick, the blow glanced impotently off of Kylie's muscle-ribboned midsection, causing her to chuckle cruelly. “What was that?” she scoffed. “Was that supposed to be a te tat? Let me show you how a real ajarn does it.”
Kylie released Superman's arms in order to put every muscle in her titanic body into throwing a devastating roundhouse kick, moving with such speed that the man of steel only had time to brace himself. For all the good that did him. Kylie's devastating Muay Thai strike crashed into his flank like a cannonball into a pincushion, lifting him off the ground and bending him sideways as he bellowed in pain. “Oh my little princess always did love kickboxing,” mom gushed as Superman dropped to the ground. “I'm just so happy we got our money's worth from all those lessons.”
Earth's most powerful hero wasn't down for long. As Kylie gloated over his fall, Superman leapt to his feet and swung both fists forward, driving them into her chest like a piledriver with such velocity that his strike echoed with a sonic boom. For all the good that did him. His fists bounced uselessly off Kylie's thick throbbing pectorals, their impact having no effect but to make Kylie's huge round breasts to jiggle, and to elicit a giggle from Kylie as his momentum carried him forward into her cleavage. “You just can't get enough of my tits, can you?” she jeered as she wrapped her arms around the man of steel and began forcing his head deeper into her bosom. “I guess I can't blame you. After all, I have the hottest rack in the history of the world.”
Superman placed his hands on the muscle-packed boulders of Kylie's shoulders, and pushed with all his might, trying to resist her as she slowly forced his face further and further into her cavernous cleavage. His head was almost completely subsumed between her breasts when glowing red beams shot from his eyes toward Kylie's head. Kylie released Superman as she flinched, moving her head just enough to avoid the blast of Superman's heat vision, which instead singed the hair on the side of her head, making a puff of smoke above her glimmering golden headband. “My hair!” Kylie screamed as Superman squirmed from her grasp. “You set fire to my hair!”
All around us women gasped in horror. “Kill him!” Allison shouted. “Break him in half!”
“Sacrilege!” Bea Buono cried. “Who would desecrate such radiant tresses?”
“Her hair still looks perfect to me,” Lauren said. “I can't even see where it was burnt.”
I couldn't see anything wrong with Kylie's hair either, but I guess it didn't matter, because Kylie was trembling with anger now, her small hands clenched into fists. Her slight feminine jaw tensed, and as her breathing deepened her lats swelled, her chest bulged and her gigantic breasts bobbed up and down. “No one messes with my hair,” she said gravely. “No one. Not ever.”
As Kylie glowered, Superman sprung into action, tearing a piece of gold Calacatta marble from the ground, four inches thick and as big around as a small car, and hurled it at Kylie like a frisbee. The slab of marble streaked through the air, and crashed into Kylie's chest, where it exploded in a spray of shards that sent the assembled crowd scrambling for cover and a cloud of dust that obscured Kylie completely. There was a brief moment of peace and quiet as the spectators picked themselves up off the ground, and cloud surrounding Kylie began to dissipate. Then a breeze kicked up, clearing away the cloud of marble dust to reveal my 14-year-old little sister, unmoved and unblemished by Superman's attack as she stood with her fists clenched and her eyes burning with rage.
And then she attacked.
Kylie closed on Superman in an instant, striking immediately with a hook to the body that bent him over crooked like a busted daisy stem, and buckled his knees. And then came another punch. And another. And another. Kylie's onslaught was horrific. Her muscle-packed body rippled with tension as she landed strike after strike, seamlessly mixing combat styles and stances, sometimes landing kicks and punches simultaneously as Superman feebly tried to defend himself. If he tried to block a left cross, Kylie threaded a right uppercut through his arms. If he tried to dodge a punch from the right, Kylie had a kick waiting for him from the left. Fists, feet, knees, and elbows all landed with surgical precision and devastating power as Kylie brutalized earth's most powerful hero will terrifying ease using her incomparable martial arts prowess and impossible muscular power. “I can't look,” Lauren said uneasily as she buried her head in my chest. “It's too violent. She's destroying him!”
It was hard to argue with her. Superman may have been earth's most powerful hero, but facing an onslaught from my horrifically muscular kid sister, his considerable strength could do nothing more than hold his body together in one piece. Barely. When Kylie finally stopped her assault, her tanned skin now beading with sweat, Superman was wobbling on his feet, his face bruised and bloody, and his blue costume split in dozens of places from the concussive force of Kylie's strikes. Kylie flipped her hair and laughed as the man of steel dropped to his knees, and her devotees shrieked with joy. With a smirk on her face, Kylie reached out a humongous leg and placed a bare foot on Superman's chest, squarely in the middle of the yellow 's' symbol, which was spattered red with his blood. “I told you,” she said nastily. “No one is stronger than me!”
Then, with a laugh, Kylie pushed Superman to the ground with her diminutive foot. All around, women cheered her victory, except for one. Lois Lane, the stunning brunette reporter from the Daily Planet, broke from the crowd with tears in her eyes, and threw herself onto Superman's beaten body. “Oh Clark,” she wept. “Can you hear me? What did that little monster do to you?”
“Little?” Kylie quipped “That's not something I hear very often.”
“You killed my husband you horrible muscle brat!” Lois cried, throwing herself angrily at Kylie.
Kylie easily subdued the slender reporter, pinning both of her arms against her sides and lifting her an inch off the ground, giggling as Lois kicked uselessly at Kylie's musclebound legs. “I didn't kill him,” Kylie said as Lois struggled in her grasp. “I just taught him a lesson about girl power. Besides, it's his fault. He started it.”
On the ground below Superman groaned in pain, but any relief Lois felt at knowing he was alive was lost in the fear and anger that flashed in her eyes as Kylie pulled her close in an embrace that was gentle yet inescapable. “What do you think you're doing?” Lois demanded as she pounded and Kylie's chest and pushed on Kylie's shoulders in a useless attempt to free herself. “Let me go!”
Kylie smiled wryly as her slender fingers began to trace patterns up and down the intrepid reporter's inner thigh. “You don't really want me to let you go, do you?” Kylie asked.
Lois trembled at Kylie's touch as she stared into Kylie's icy blue eyes, and stopped pounding her fists on Kylie's shoulders. Lois gulped. “I want... I want...” she said, faltering.
“You want me, don't you?” Kylie asked as Superman groaned even louder, and Lois Lane began to run her hands along the muscle-swollen mass of Kylie's anterior delts, and onto her colossal pecs. “You want my muscles,” Kylie purred. “You want to touch them and kiss them, don't you?”
“Y-yes,” Lois stammered, licking her lips as her fingers drifted along the striations and chiseled muscle shapes of Kylie's mammoth pectoral shelf. “I-I want to touch you. I want to touch your body.”
“And You want me to touch you, don't you?” Kylie asked as she undid two buttons on Lois' blouse. “You want me to ravish you, don't you? In ways that your wimp husband never could.”
“Oh yes!” Lois moaned, quivering as Kylie reached into her blouse and began to massage her breast. “I want to touch you and taste you, and feel your muscles rubbing against my naked body!”
“I thought so,” Kylie giggled as she gently released the lust-crazed reporter.
As soon as Lois was free, she threw herself at Kylie in a fit of desire, panting as she groped my musclebound kid sister. “I want to be with you forever, Kylie,” Lois panted. “I want to worship you.”
“I have these rings on my nipples for a reason,” Kylie laughed. “And I have room for one more.”
Without a moment's hesitation, Lois removed her wedding ring, as Kylie's retinue cheered and Superman whimpered. Then with a flirtatious bat of her eyelashes, Lois placed the wedding ring in her mouth, and got down on her knees. The women in the crowd clapped with appreciation as Lois Lane crawled to Kylie and cradled Kylie's left breast in her hands, giggling with lust as she groped it before gently sliding her mouth over Kylie's areola, and depositing her wedding ring on Kylie's nipple.
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Wow, really insane how strong, fast and tough Kylie must be now to barely even feel Superman's strongest blows, he was just too weak compared to her now, the strongest male hero in the universe had no chance against her, so who possibly could? I mean you could call in the rest of the Justice League, they could try to team up on her, but only Wonder Woman could come close to Superman's strength, at least in most continuities. But I still look forward to Lauren trying out her sexual skills, worst case scenario, Kylie is now so awesome that Lauren's best sexual maneuvers have no effect, which would be a pretty hot read in and of itself, but that would probably mean that there's no happy ending for those of us who want Kylie to lose. But then again, being that this is your story, you can end it anyway you want. k+!
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Loved the fight and how powerful Kylie was by the conclusion, though I do wish she had in fact killed Superman in a more climactic way. It felt like it sorta happened and resolved, but given how much of a point she's made about being a goddess this entire time, and how strong she is and crushing Superman, this felt like the appropriate time to have an "I am a goddess!" moment to the world.
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If Kylie really WAS in the DC Universe, she would have just screwed herself hardcore.
Because she's at a point where she's on The Specter's radar. And not even gods can stop him.
But you literally said "her downfall" before the fight against Superman, and then Mary Sue'd her to victory. So it doesn't matter.
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Perhaps Lauren IS Wonder Woman!
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If Kylie really WAS in the DC Universe, she would have just screwed herself hardcore.
Because she's at a point where she's on The Specter's radar. And not even gods can stop him.
But you literally said "her downfall" before the fight against Superman, and then Mary Sue'd her to victory. So it doesn't matter.
I never said that Kylie would face her downfall in her fight against Superman, although other people posting here certainly did, and within the story Rick thought/hoped that she would.
I've been working toward a very specific ending for a while now, and Kylie losing to Superman was never a possibility.
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Maybe in this world this is "Wonder Woman"'s origin.
Nah. Honestly I only brought Superman in because I needed something over the top for the final act. There is no larger connection to any comic book universe or characters.
Besides I only have a chapter or two left, and there's no time for that kind of pivot, not even with my rushed writing style. :)
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Now we’re getting somewhere. Our narcissistic villain has crushed the noble superhero like a handful of coal, increasing the power of her energy source, her unstoppable ego. Lois Lane’s flip to her harem of sex zombies is an excellent turn of events, and total world domination of female sexuality seems just around the corner. While I would have enjoyed a longer demolition of Superman at the level of Bane vs Batman, this was very good. Hail Queen Kylie! Long may she reign.
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Now i want to read about her racing barefeet against sportcars.
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Maybe in this world this is "Wonder Woman"'s origin.
As someone who is a big fan of Wonder Woman, the character ALL ABOUT LOVE AND COMPASSION, EVEN MORE SO THAN SUPERMAN! I find this idea horrifying. Dom Diana is a thing, but not like this. Never like this. Not even Zombie or Cyborg Zombie Diana are this bad.
Still tho, this is fun. Just not that.
Not saying Diana, saying a character with the title. The title of Wonder Woman does not always have to be Diana Prince!
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It’s tough to imagine anyone that has fought Superman in such a one sided fight as Kylie has. The question is is that power level brought on by anger or was she already that powerful when he showed up and unlocked it permanently?
This sets up nicely for the girlfriend to win the day. Imagine, a normal
Girl dominating the teen that demolished one of the most powerful beings in the universe without throwing a punch
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It’s tough to imagine anyone that has fought Superman in such a one sided fight as Kylie has. The question is is that power level brought on by anger or was she already that powerful when he showed up and unlocked it permanently?
This sets up nicely for the girlfriend to win the day. Imagine, a normal
Girl dominating the teen that demolished one of the most powerful beings in the universe without throwing a punch
If you're implying that she will be sexually dominated like everyone else seems to think so, then this story is just catering to some messed up fantasies about underage sexual references. Kinda pedophilic. Not gonna lie.
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Have you read the story? I’m just reading the tea leaves, not asking for outcomes.
Frankly I’m surprised the mods haven’t removed it as they did with similar stories.
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It's true, not that I would want this story to be removed, but Kylie has been sexualized since very early in the story, it's not really anything new, wanting something sexual done to her when the story has gone this far is just adding on to something that is already established as fact.
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It's true, not that I would want this story to be removed, but Kylie has been sexualized since very early in the story, it's not really anything new, wanting something sexual done to her when the story has gone this far is just adding on to something that is already established as fact.
There is a difference between sexual references and what the community is asking for to happen. Plenty of sexual references are found in teenage fiction, so it doesn't matter that much. But if the author goes out of his way to include what they are asking for, it is obviously because the writer has an interest in the underaged (nobody would write that otherwise). Much like Caino's horrific stories (and I think he even posted on this story), it's because of a sick fantasy. So I do hope the story sticks to its vague references (which are even seen in the likes of Rick and Morty, Family Guy, South Park) but does not show it in detail.
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I’m not sure how a grown woman burying her face in the crotch of a teen is a “sexual
Reference” lol
His stories are good but there’s a reason prior stories of his, and mine, have been straight up erased from the site
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Even stories of teen girls being shirtless have been deleted in the past
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It seems that mods on every site are total prudes.
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Can we not do this before this story ends up getting deleted 2 chapters before it ends?
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After watching Baki on Netflix, I see the ridiculous extremes of a world populated by normal people and a scant few who achieve superhuman power just by devoting their lives to strength training. The strongest person in that anime is a man who has muscles so hard that he's impervious to anything (blades, bullets, grenades, missiles, lightning...), that can stop an earthquake by punching the ground and throw punches so fast that break the sound barrier several times over, and that can make skyscrapers shake just by the shockwave generated by him tensing his muscles. He is so unstoppable and feared that every time a new US president is sworn into office, they personally swear an oath of friendship and respect with him.
I can see Kylie becoming a force like that in the world, and that the entire world just lets her do as she pleases in exchange for letting them continue to exist.
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I 2nd what hal42 said.
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Part 4, Chapter 77
Lois Lane's lips lingered Kylie's nipple, her face pressed into Kylie's breast and her hands grasping at Kylie's buttocks as she moaned with pleasure, and Superman groaned with agony. All over the estate, news crews scrambled to begin their live reports, while editing together their existing footage of Kylie's fight against the man of steel, while women cheered for Kylie and rushed toward her with tears of joy streaming from their eyes. But then Kylie held up her hand, motioning for them to stop, and they froze in their tracks, bouncing back and forth on their feet in anticipation as they waited for her permission to move. But Kylie's attention was elsewhere. On the ground in front of her, Superman pulled himself to his feet, his teeth gritted in determination. “You just don't know when to quit, do you?” Kylie chuckled as she tossed her hair and gently pushed Lois Lane aside.
“How are you doing this?” Superman groaned. “How are you so strong?”
“Um, because I pump all the iron,” Kylie sneered. “How else would I get muscles this big?”
And with that Kylie stood on her tiptoes and placed her hands on her hips, spreading her lats slowly as her smile grew wider. Her bronze-skinned body swelled and rippled as her calves hardened into rigid blocks, her thighs bulged into sweeping cables of vastus and femoris muscles, and her back flared into an expanse of muscle so thick and wide that I wondered if she would ever be able to fit through a normal door again. “Oh Kylie,” Lois sighed as she fell to her knees. “Take me now!”
Superman bellowed in anger as he threw himself at Kylie, lowering his shoulder and shooting forward like a flash as he crashed into her like a blue freight train. But if Superman was a freight train, Kylie was a mountain, completely unmoved as he slammed into her and collapsed as she cackled with glee at her own impossible strength. He wasn't even able to bring her down from her tiptoes.
Superman rose to his feet again, and immediately began to swing haymakers at my 14-year-old sister. Kylie responded by tucking her arms behind her head and flexing her pecs, lifting her enormous boobs up in the air to show every inch of her sculpted midsection as she hit an abdominal pose. Kylie's torso erupted in a cascade of chiseled muscles from her rocky ribs down to the curl of her Apollo's belt, which was just barely obscured by the golden chain of her loincloth. Superman's punches glanced uselessly off Kylie's abs and ribs, which rippled like an ocean of female muscle as she twisted her body so that any punches thrown at her face were deflected by her bulging triceps. Even Kylie's boobs proved invincible as punch after punch was dissipated by their wobbling flesh. Finally Superman relented, panting as his body sagged with exhaustion, and Kylie giggled at the futility of his attacks. He wasn't even able to put a bruise on her.
Kylie cocked her leg, stuck out her chest and hit a double bicep pose that made the surrounding women hoot with excitement. Her biceps quivered with power, dimpled double-headed and vein-streaked as they bulged to impossible dimensions, peaking nearly as high as the top of her head, and so massive that her elbows could bend no further than 90 degrees as her biceps jostled with her muscle-packed forearms. Kylie gloried in her gargantuan arms, smiling at their towering size as she pumped them again and again. “Are you seeing this body?” she taunted, looking Superman directly in the eyes. “Maybe if you had muscles like these, your wife wouldn't have left you for me.”
In a fit of rage Superman lunged at Kylie's neck, his fingers bent into claws, screaming so loudly that people nearby had to brace themselves to avoid being blown away. But Kylie was too quick for him. Her hands snapped forward, and she intertwined her tiny fingers with his, as an all-too-familiar smile spread across his face. “Oh no,” I gulped, as memories of my childhood filled my mind.
“You want to play 'mercy' with me?” Kylie giggled. “Are you sure? I'm a lot stronger than you.”
Superman struggled to free himself, but the grip of Kylie's dainty hands was unbreakable. “Let's get out of here, now,” I said to Lauren, as Superman's arms began to tremble.
But as soon as we turned to leave, we found Allison blocking in our way with her powerful body. “You can't leave now,” she cackled as she grabbed us both at the elbow, twisting our arms and forcing us to turn back around. “You're the guests of honor. Besides, the party is just getting started.”
My mouth was dry with empathetic fear as I watched Superman struggle in Kylie's grip, as she slowly pressed her hands downward, bending his wrists backward, and squeezing his hands so hard that his fingers wiggled helplessly between her knuckles. “What's wrong?” Kylie jeered. “I'm not hurting you am I? After all, I'm just a little girl. A little girl with big muscles. And a bad temper.”
As Kylie continued to squeeze his hands, Superman fell to his knees squirming in pain, much as I had done myself when trapped in a game of 'mercy' with my kid sister. I felt sick to my stomach as I realized that for all his superhuman powers, Superman was no more able to resist Kylie's strength than I was. He and I were both feeble and weak compared to her. From his knees, the man of steel mustered one last push against Kylie, driving as hard as he could with his legs as he pushed against her with all his might. He couldn't bend her wrists a single degree. “You're such a wimp,” Kylie laughed. “You should just beg for mercy now, before I really hurt you.”
“I'll never surrender to you,” Superman spat at her through gritted teeth.
“Fine,” Kylie said rolling her eyes. “Then I guess I'll just crush you like the bug that you are.”
Then Kylie began to pull her arms downward as if she were doing a lat pulldown, slowly pinning Superman's arms to his sides and drawing him closer to her body as he struggled to resist her inexorable power. Superman was straining visibly, his entire body trembling as Kylie forced his arms behind his back, as she kept his hands trapped in hers. Kylie cackled with malicious glee as she twisted Superman's arms like pipe cleaners, his elbows bending sharply and his shoulders pulling out of position as she wrapped her arms around his back in a bear hug. And as Kylie began to hug him tighter, she pulled his arms further and further behind his back, and Superman howled in pain. At least for a couple of seconds. As Kylie tightened her bear hug, the man of steel slumped forward further and further until his head disappeared between the pillowy tanned orbs of her breasts, and his screams of pain were muffled by Kylie's overabundant femininity.
Cameras flashed and phones clicked as the nation's reporters and Kylie worshipers took pictures of Superman being completely overwhelmed by my 14-year-old sister. His head had disappeared in her gigantic bosom, his arms and back were nearly invisible in the embrace of her bulging muscular arms, and his legs dangled limply on the ground. “Make sure to get some low-angle shots,” Kylie snapped at the reporters. “You need to be looking up at me, like you're worms crawling at the feet of a beautiful, powerful goddess. Which is what you are.”
After a deluge of photos, Kylie released Superman and fell to the ground, still breathing but completely limp and listless. “Take some more pictures,” Princess Honey told Kylie as she stroked her massive volleyball sized biceps and jerked her head contemptuously toward Superman. “You're so pumped right now, I want to remember you this way forever. And you have a great prop down there.”
“I guess he has to be good for something,” Kylie giggled as she reached down and grabbed Superman by the collar, hoisting him up into the air as if he were weightless.
Then Kylie tucked Superman's head into the crook of her left arm, and began to flex her bicep. Superman groaned in pain as his head was squeezed tighter and tighter between the peaking mass of Kylie's mountainous bicep and implacable boulder of her vein-streaked forearms. Superman wrapped both his hands around Kylie's left wrist and began to pull with all his might, but both of his arms were no match for one of hers, and she laughed at the impotence of his efforts before leaning over and kissing her towering bicep. Sara Stone rushed forward with Kylie's phone, heavily encased in gold and ivory, and held it out with bold hands like an offering before a goddess. “You should totally take a selfie,” the world-class-athlete-turned-sex-slave said. “You look so strong right now, and so hot.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kylie said, taking her phone and holding it up at arms length with her right hand as she casually crushed earth's most powerful hero in a bicep flex with her left arm.
Instantly Lois Lane fell at Kylie's feet, wrapping herself around Kylie's leg in adoration as she looked up at the camera. “Please Kylie,” she begged. “Let me show the world that I belong to you.”
“Fine,” Kylie said testily. “But move your head. It's blocking my abs, and they look sick today.”
Lois obeyed, arching her back and thrusting her breasts outward as she gazed up at Kylie in unabashed lust, as Kylie puckered for her selfie, her hair perfect and her gilded bejeweled accessories twinkling in the light. Kylie's left hand flashed a peace sign with casual ease as Superman continued to struggle against the massively overdeveloped muscles of her left arm, until she snapped her selfie, and let him fall to the ground. “I'm going to jill off like a thousand times to that post,” Allison tittered. “Her bicep was the size of his head. And her abs? OMG.”
Lauren and I struggled against Allison's grasp as Kylie dumped her phone into Sara Stone's waiting hands and stepped out of Lois Lane's lecherous embrace, and began walking toward us. “Well Lingster,” Kylie said, smirking. “Where were you before we were so rudely interrupted?”
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Well, here we go, right into what seems to be the last chapter, Kylie has easily destroyed Superman, and is ready to take Lauren for her own, just like she did Lois Lane, now we will see if what has been predicted by quite a few people here happens, will Lauren's super sexuality win the day or will Kylie be so superior in pretty much every way she will end up winning the whole story, leaving it on a not quite happy note, but keeping in the spirit of the story. Either way, I look forward to it! k+!
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Kylie will win. Author wants it.
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Rick should accept the fact that his sister is actually a godess, submit to her and rub her boobs for the rest of his life.
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I hope it doesn't end too soon as I want to keep on reading about Kylie's absolute dominance over everything.
Thanks for another GREAT chapter!
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As noted before, I was concerned bringing Superman into this wonderful story would be "jumping the shark" so to speak but my worries proved to be unwarranted given the skill with which he was woven into this tale. I should never have doubted you grbaclig. Bravo! Well done sir! Very well done!
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Well done indeed
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I hope it doesn't end too soon as I want to keep on reading about Kylie's absolute dominance over everything.
Thanks for another GREAT chapter!
Same. Here's hoping she gets to dominate for just a little bit longer.
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Double ditto.
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I worry about what the loss of Lauren will mean to Rick's mental health, since he'll be pretty much alone in the world.
On the last encounter, even though Lauren was prepared and actively tried to resist Kylie's charms, Kylie was able to instantly and completely subjugate her without even trying. I wonder what will happen when Kylie makes an actual effort to really tempt Lauren. I think the impression will be so overwhelming that Rick will be forever erased from her memory and the opportunity to rein Kylie in via super sex will be forever lost.
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There was a story in February 2008 by - Superman in a New Woman World by Marknew An "imaginary" Superman story. What if Superman tried to stem the tide when the New Woman formula was sweeping the world? Very similiar to this story. Some of the scenes from this story is in the Marknew story. The story is in Marknew's folder posted on *****.com. The heroine's name was Amanda.
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Did something happen here?
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Still hope that Lauren is Wonder Woman and stays by Rick.
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I'm guessing grbaclig is taking longer on this chapter because he said a couple chapters ago that there are two chapters left, therefore this next upcoming chapter should be the last one, he is making sure that it is going to be perfect. I am sure it is going to be well worth the wait.
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I've been checking this thread for an update every day, several times a day, because I'm dying to know the resolution of the cliffhanger.
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Part 4, Chapter 78
“Kylie no!” I yelled, my guts churning with fear, anger, and sadness. “You can't!”
“Um yeah, I can,” Kylie sneered. “In case you haven't noticed, I can do whatever I want. If you don't believe me, ask the wimp in the blue tights who just tried to stop me.”
“Right here?” Lauren peeped. “In the dirt and debris? With all the reporters around?”
Kylie looked over her shoulder at the reporters who still filled her estate, snapping pictures and interviewing her devotees. “Get rid of them,” Kylie barked to a group of hulking women in camouflage bikinis, who immediately began to usher reporters off Kylie's property, and secure the breach.
Kylie frowned as she checked her fingernails, noticing streaks of Superman's blood smeared on her hand, a reminder of the savage beating that she had administered to him. Without a word Kylie began to stroll across her lawn to where several fountains and a sparkling reflecting pool were arranged in a small water garden, and Allison dragged Lauren and I along. “You're so lucky,” Allison said to Lauren. “Kylie wants you. She's going to make you feel so fucking good.”
Kylie let the water from the fountain play across her slender fingers as she wiggled them, smiling with satisfaction at the way the thick knots of muscle in her forearms flexed as she did. Once her hands were clean, Kylie strolled to the edge of the reflecting pool, her tanned meaty buttocks contracting and wiggling as she sashayed, stopping for a moment to admire her reflection in the clear blue water. The pool was only a few inches deep and it was framed with thin ring of the same gold-streaked Calacatta marble as the walkways that ran around her property. “It is a lot nicer over here,” Kylie said as she turned around, her perfectly tanned and nearly naked body radiant in the sunlight. "I just love the way I look reflected int he water."
“Kylie, please,” I begged, my voice choking and my eyes heavy with tears. “You can't do this.”
Lauren turned to me, her beautiful face firm with resignation. “I will always love you, Rick, no matter what,” she said, taking my hands and pecking me on the lips. “Please believe me.”
Then, pushing her glasses up onto her nose, Lauren knelt in the grass before Kylie, head bowed low. “That's more like it,” Kylie said. “Now, worship me. Kiss me lovingly all over my body, and show me your adoration.“
Lauren closed her eyes and leaned forward, her hands trembling as she placed them on Kylie's thighs, her fingers disappearing into the cuts between Kylie's femoris and vastus muscles. All around me Kylie's devotees began to clap, talking joyously as if they were at a wedding, while the only woman I ever truly loved supplicated herself before my bossy bratty impossibly muscular kid sister. “Do I get to go next?” Lois Lane asked nervously. “Please tell me I'm next.”
“Don't worry,” Kylie laughed. “You'll get all you can handle, I promise. In fact I-”
Then Kylie stopped mid-sentence, and gasped. She inhaled deeply through her nose as her eyes closed, her lips puckered. “Kylie, are you okay?” Sara Stone asked.
But Kylie couldn't answer. Her lips were trembling as her head rolled back, and beads of sweat began to form all over her body. “How's this for adoration?” Lauren asked in between kisses.
“Ooh,” Kylie cooed. “I know... aah... I know what you're trying to do, and it... ooh... won't work.”
“I think it will,” Lauren said as she began to kiss and lick Kylie's body more vigorously, and Kylie's eyes sprang wide open.
Kylie moaned deeply, running her fingers through her hair and crushing her golden headdress like it was made of tinfoil as Lauren continued to work on her. “No one... no one makes me... fall in love,” Kylie panted. “No one... makes me... weak.”
But Kylie's body betrayed her. Her fingers were clenched in claws, her toes curled, and her nipples swelled with passion until, one by one, the wedding rings that encircled them snapped like rubber bands, scattering glittering flecks of shrapnel at her feet. Kylie was mewling now, gulping and panting as she fought to resist the caress of Lauren's mouth. All around me, women stared slackjawed in disbelief as they watched Kylie, helpless in another woman's embrace. I could hardly believe it myself. I had known Kylie her whole life, and I can't remember her ever once having being helpless. But now, in full view of the assembled crowd in the water garden at her Palace of Pump, Kylie fell, her massively muscled body landing with a splash in the inch-deep waters of the reflecting pool. Kylie squirmed in the water, droplets now beading on her tanned flesh and rolling off the mountainous topography of her muscles as she bucked under the pressure of Lauren's kisses. With a shout Kylie bucked like a wild horse, splashing water across the lawn and thoroughly soaking me.
And all of sudden, faster than I could blink, my head spinning as I sat up in my bed, shivering in a puddle of cold water. “I swear I've never see such a lazy child,” mom scolded as she held an empty water glass in her hand. “Well now that you're up come on downstairs. Everyone's waiting.”
I groggily wiped my eyes and looked around. My room seemed both alien and familiar as my eyes adjusted to the light. “Why do I have a PS3?” I asked. “Where's my PS4?”
“Well I don't know sweetie,” mom said, picking up some clothes I had left on the floor. “Maybe if you're good you'll get one for Christmas. Now hurry up, everyone's in the den waiting.”
“Christmas?” I asked as I studied the posters on my wall, which I swear I took down years ago.
“Yes, mister silly billy,” mom huffed. “As in today. As in everyone is waiting for you to come to the den so we can open presents and have breakfast. Now get your butt out of bed.”
As I pulled myself out of bed I saw my mom bending over to move some Superman comics that I had left on the floor. “Mom?” I said out loud, looking at her saggy rear end. “You're still fat?”
“Oh well I never!” mom snapped. “If this is thanks I get for waking you up, then you can just sleep through Christmas for all I care!”
“I think I had a dream mom,” I said, wiping my eyes as I stood up and stretched. “I was 18 and Superman was there, and Kylie was there too...”
“Kylie's here now,” mom said. “And so is your dad, so let's get going mister!”
As I shuffled out of my room, I readjusted to waking life, slowly remembering who I actually was and where I actually lived. I laughed to myself as I shook away the last foggy memories of a dream that seemed to last for years. As images of Allison, Lauren, and Kylie started to fade from my mind like snow melting in the sun, I followed mom into the den.
“There's our late sleeper,” dad said as he fidgeted with the star on the Christmas tree. “I'm glad you're here. Your little sister was about to blow her top. I can't wait until she gets older and mellows out a little.”
Right on cue the insolent stomping of tiny feet pounded on the floor behind me. “Finally,” Kylie groaned as she brushed past on her way to the Christmas tree. “How are you always so sleepy, Rick? You never do anything except sit in your dumb room and read your dumb comic books.”
I looked down at Kylie, a normal 10-year-old girl, in her plaid sweater and long red skirt, and I laughed. “Shut up, twerp,” I said, reveling in how good it felt to tell off my little sister--although I couldn't say exactly why I felt that way.
Kylie's mouth grimaced and her icy blue eyes burned. “Don't you ever talk to me like that!” she bellowed, as best she could with her little girl voice. “Not ever!”
“Richard, be nice to your sister,” mom scolded, taking Kylie's side as always. “It's Christmas for goodness sake, and it's almost time to open presents.”
“I want to open presents now!” Kylie barked, stomping up to Christmas tree to the largest present which, as always, had her name on it. “I want to open my present from Grandma Sue!”
“Wait just a second, Kylie,” dad said. “We need to take a picture first.”
But Kylie was already tearing hunks of wrapping paper away from the mountainous present in the corner. Kylie showed no joy or Christmas cheer as she unwrapped her present, only the grim determination that she always showed when approaching something that she wanted, but the second the present was unwrapped, her eyes lit up and her mouth spread wide in a smile. “Awesome!” she exclaimed. “This is what I've always wanted!”
I felt an icy chill rising in my gut as Kylie waded into the pile of barbells and dumbbells that Grandma Sue had given, as if something was calling at me from the depths of the fading nightmare from which I had just awoken. “Kylie be careful,” dad lectured as Kylie wrapped her tiny hands around a pair of dumbbells. “Those are 20 pound dumbbells. They're way to big for a little girl.”
“Shut up, stupid!” Kylie barked at dad. “Little girls can be strong. Just watch!!”
Then, as if to spite him, Kylie curled the dumbbells up to her chest, her form sound even as she struggled with their weight. “Oh my perfect little princess is so strong!” mom cheered.
“I don't think young girls should lift weights,” dad said.
But Kylie continued to curl the dumbbells, rep after rep, each curl getting smoother and steadier, as if instead of growing fatigued she were somehow getting stronger. “I don't care what you think,” Kylie spat. “I'm going to have the biggest, strongest muscles in the world. You'll see!”
Then Kylie dropped the dumbbells to the floor with a crash, rolled up the sleeve on her plaid sweater, and flexed her bicep. A solid golf-ball sized rock of muscle sprang up on her young arm, and she smiled as she pumped it over and over. “Oh goodness,” mom gushed. “Look at that! My perfect little angel is going to be a weightlifter, Isn't this grand!”
“No,” I pleaded out loud. “Please no.”
But no one was listening to me as Kylie peeled off her sweater to reveal a body lined with sculpted muscle, eight-pack abs and muscle-domed shoulders, a body that no girl her age should have. “Hey Rick,” she jeered, her clear blue eyes shining with malice as she stared me down like a predatory animal. “Do you want to play a game of 'mercy'?”
“No,” I said again. “This can't be happening. This can't be real.”
But it was. And as my bratty 10-year-old little sister pumped her biceps again and again, she laughed, and I began to shake with fear. Although I couldn't explain why, but her high-pitched girly giggle was the most horrifying sound I had ever heard, and deep down I knew it spelled the end of the world as I knew it. "Come on, Rick," Kylie teased. "You better try and beat me now, before I get really strong."
THE END
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I'm guessing grbaclig is taking longer on this chapter because he said a couple chapters ago that there are two chapters left, therefore this next upcoming chapter should be the last one, he is making sure that it is going to be perfect. I am sure it is going to be well worth the wait.
I actually had to make an emergency international trip last week, which is a huge ordeal right now, so I couldn't get to the story, even though I've pretty much had the ending written for a while.
And I doubt very much that it's perfect, but thanks for your support. :)
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I've been checking this thread for an update every day, several times a day, because I'm dying to know the resolution of the cliffhanger.
Aw geez. I hope it doesn't disappoint. It's a bit of a copout but I wrote myself into a corner a few dozen chapters ago, so it's the only ending that felt right to me.
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So... What? At Kylie's first failure time turns back for her to do it again even better?
I like that Lauren managed this, but... It feels off, even more so than Superman's defeat
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So... What? At Kylie's first failure time turns back for her to do it again even better?
I like that Lauren managed this, but... It feels off, even more so than Superman's defeat
It's called a dream. The whole story was a dream.
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It's called a dream. The whole story was a dream.
I realize that... And that's a giant bummer. Feels super dissapointing. Couldn't we have had a Lauren Harem? Or an actual bad end for our protag? (Didn't want that, but would have felt more satisfying and complete) This feels like a cop out...
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Yeah, in some ways, I almost guessed that this whole thing was a dream, Kylie was doing too many things far too quickly for a human being, building muscles and strength at such an accelerated pace, turning women straight women lesbians without any noticeable effort, her beating Superman. While fantastical things have happened in your stories before, this has been out of the ordinary in several ways. Not that I am disappointed, I had a fun journey along the way, great description of muscle and strength, as always. I appreciate you sticking it out, nearly 80 chapters of mostly high quality writing. I congratulate you on that. k+!
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Y'know what, i can appreciate and understand your rationale behind this. Questionable age aside, it's still a fantastic story and took us all for a ride. Big ups man, be proud of the way it all panned out.
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Twilight Zone and Otter limits rolled into one.. Nice end..
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Well this story was surely an emotional rollercoaster. Would have definitely enjoyed reading more of Kylie on her strongest, but the ending was just perfect, especially after those last few over the top chapters.
Once you find some well-deserved rest, I'm greatly looking forward to any new stories you might write!
:bravo:
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I would've liked the story to continue a bit more, but I can't fault grbaclig to quit while one's ahead. Great story, interesting characters, nicely paced, amazing vocabulary, and in the end, there's still a chance for Rick to change his future. It's been a rollercoaster and I thank you for the great ride!
:clap: :bravo: :thanks:
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you're a genius. stop. thank you for all of this!!!!!
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The "It was all a dream" ending may seem like a cop out to some, but when you look at how absolutely over the top the story got as it progressed (even when compared to the author's other works), it was the most logical ending. Overall, good work. And good way to end it.
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The "It was all a dream" ending may seem like a cop out to some, but when you look at how absolutely over the top the story got as it progressed (even when compared to the author's other works), it was the most logical ending. Overall, good work. And good way to end it.
Seconded. I honestly got a wry smile reading the end of the story. Say what you will, grbaclig kept me hanging on until the end. Nicely done!
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Not a fan of the ending, mostly because it essentially undoes Kyrie's biggest loss. It feels like the author couldn't bear to see her actually lose.
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in my opinion: it was a dream of Rick, so in his mind it was sexy to imagine his little sister so muscular and powerful, he doesn't know it, but it is a deep desire of him!!!
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:wow:
Not a fan of the ending, mostly because it essentially undoes Kyrie's biggest loss. It feels like the author couldn't bear to see her actually lose.
Disagree. It kind of felt like the author wanted to end the story a long time ago so they could move on to other ideas. But readers kept demanding more. If you look back over the course of the story, every single turn the story took from roughly its halfway point on was merely giving the outspoken majority of readers exactly what they were asking for. No more, no less. If anything he should have focused less on giving us what we wanted and more on following through with whatever his original plan was, even if it meant ending the story much sooner than it did
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in my opinion: it was a dream of Rick, so in his mind it was sexy to imagine his little sister so muscular and powerful, he doesn't know it, but it is a deep desire of him!!!
I think you need professional help mate.
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in my opinion: it was a dream of Rick, so in his mind it was sexy to imagine his little sister so muscular and powerful, he doesn't know it, but it is a deep desire of him!!!
I think you need professional help mate.
maybe :D
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The amount of people who lack the basic reading comprehension to grasp the ending of this story is hilarious, but it also makes me feel bad for grbaclig that no one seems to get it. It's not literally a dream. It's a cyclical time loop. The point is that it's an endless "nightmare" where Kylie is forever torturing Rick with her superiority. It also implies that Kylie has some God-like power where not even time can defeat her. The whole point of the story is, and always has been, Kylie's infinite superiority, so this is the only logical conclusion without turning into a ridiculous never-ending giantess story where Kylie eventually consumes the universe.
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The amount of people who lack the basic reading comprehension to grasp the ending of this story is hilarious, but it also makes me feel bad for grbaclig that no one seems to get it. It's not literally a dream. It's a cyclical time loop. The point is that it's an endless "nightmare" where Kylie is forever torturing Rick with her superiority. It also implies that Kylie has some God-like power where not even time can defeat her. The whole point of the story is, and always has been, Kylie's infinite superiority, so this is the only logical conclusion without turning into a ridiculous never-ending giantess story where Kylie eventually consumes the universe.
Okay, so let me just point out the major flaw with this theory: "As I pulled myself out of bed I saw my mom bending over to move some Superman comics that I had left on the floor."
The Superman comics in a universe where Superman is supposed to exist? Jerry Siegel's comic's of Superman somehow exist within this world at the same time as Superman? That makes no sense and furthers the point of it being a mere dream. He is a clear fan of Superman and dreamed him up to defeat her.(it had been shown to be modern day: PS4's and references to pop culture).
To say the comics were made because he existed is deus-ex-machina'ng the plot; and makes a lot less sense.
Another flaw: Why would he return back to this point in time upon waking up? Because she first gets the weights? Well that argument is also flawed as well: by that logic she should return to the point of working out (which was before this day as evidenced by an athletic body).
So there is more evidence to support this being a dream than there is of it being a continuous time loop. Your opinion is a theory, but your reasoning is flawed.
It's like you saying: "My opinion is right and if you disagree you lack basic reading comprehension."
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I just would like to point out that the story is whatever the author himself wants it to be about, sure, it is open to interpretation, in a public forum like this, a posted story is going to be analyzed, and if grbaclig is silent about what they actually wanted to do when he started writing this story way back when, then yeah, go ahead, interpret the story however you'd like to. Me...I enjoyed it, I don't look too far under the surface, I see a girl who is focused on becoming stronger, who wants to use that strength for her own reasons, so be it. I'm not really huge into bullying stories, but if the story is written just so, I will move beyond my normal apprehension toward a subject that I don't like and enjoy the story anyway. Grbaclig is a talented writer enough to get me to like this story despite Kylie being a bad person, so I commend them for that. I will leave it there and look forward to whatever grbaclig sets their sights on next. (I personally don't know if grbaclig is male or female so that's why I'm not addressing grbaclig as he.)
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My point wasn't really about the debate between whether or not it's a science fiction time loop or a fantasy dream. It's just about the fact that it's a new beginning, where the same sort of events are going to play out all over again. Rick is waking up to another reality (maybe the only reality) where his sister is superior to him and will torture him forever again. The gravity of this reality is what should hit hard at the end of the story, not the fact that "oh, everything was just make believe." The one thing that remains true is Kylie's superiority. That is the focal event that ending should be appreciated for, not the fact that everything before was a dream or a time loop or whatever. The author is welcome to correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe this is the intent.
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My point wasn't really about the debate between whether or not it's a science fiction time loop or a fantasy dream. It's just about the fact that it's a new beginning, where the same sort of events are going to play out all over again. Rick is waking up to another reality (maybe the only reality) where his sister is superior to him and will torture him forever again. The gravity of this reality is what should hit hard at the end of the story, not the fact that "oh, everything was just make believe." The one thing that remains true is Kylie's superiority. That is the focal event that ending should be appreciated for, not the fact that everything before was a dream or a time loop or whatever. The author is welcome to correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe this is the intent.
Dude you need to learn to support your theory instead of saying "this is how it is" in future. Everything you said is purely hypothetical and you start by saying, "it's just about the FACT that it's a new beginning, where the same sort of events are going to play out all over again." And then you go on to say "I BELIEVE" which is opinion.
There is no evidence to suggest that it is going to happen the way you see fit and you are basing it on your beliefs as opposed to picking up on details. Books that suggest similar endings have details scattered about that suggest "It's a loop." Not just, "Oh it's all gonna happen again because I said so." You can believe it, sure, but you went so far as to say it is fact and insinuated that if people disagree: "AH NO BASIC READING COMPREHENSION!"
My point being: don't wave your opinion(s) around as if they are the true answer, especially without evidence to support it.
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Cheers to you, Grbaclig, for writing a great story and following your own path. This one was as stellar, for me, as the rest of your efforts. The amount of people chiming in on how bad or good this or that was, or what they would like to see or not see, is just testament to the power of the writing. Keep on keeping on.
(And sorry to bring this post back to the top of the forum, but I had to get my two cents in. Just like the rest of ya'll.)
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Some guys said that she couldn't beat Superman, but as a young girl she is awesome strong.But this is a story so everything is possible and I am glad that somebody beats up Superman. I had enough about " good guy" Superman. Want to see mere stories were young girls are very strong. There was a time that if someone wrote over young girls that person would get banned. :thanks:
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Some guys said that she couldn't beat Superman, but as a young girl she is awesome strong.But this is a story so everything is possible and I am glad that somebody beats up Superman. I had enough about " good guy" Superman. Want to see mere stories were young girls are very strong. There was a time that if someone wrote over young girls that person would get banned. :thanks:
They would get banned because they often sexualized them, which is just disgusting.
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Well, this story was certainly interesting, to say the least!! I am a bit of a jackass, so I really enjoy cruelty and gore and all that. So when I found that I really began to sympathize with Rick, it was surprising. Not bad, I actually really like Rick, but unexpected, to say the least!! I just spent the past few days binging the whole thing and while the ending wasn't what I expected, I think it's even better, or worse, depending on who you are and who you root for. I'm torn, because as much as I sympathized with Rick, I also wanted Kylie to rule the world. And if I had to pick between Rick or Kylie winning, I would pick the latter. I really the ambiguousness of the ending. Cause I could see it going a few ways. 1. The least likely way it could go, judging by that last scene of Kylie curling that weight, is that the story starts off the same as Rick's dream, but she eventually hits a plateau and maxes out her capabilities. I imagine she would still be quite the physical specimen, but not quite the Goddess she was in the dream. 2. The story ends up going the same way as the dream, but this time, using her skills, Lauren ends up enthralling Kylie and quite possibly melting that cold heart of hers. 3. Same as 2. but instead Lauren fails and Kylie ends up enthralling Lauren and undoubtedly conquering the planet. 4. The final ending I could think of and the most interesting one I feel, but probably the second most likely behind option 1. is that Rick ends up finding himself in a loop of sorts, sorta of a time loop but deeper then that. He ends up reliving the events of the story over and over again. Kylie's reign having ended, giving Rick relief, only for it to start up all over again. Basically for eternity!! For whatever reason, faith having decided that this is his destiny, to relive his sister's conquests over and over, without any real end or break. Kylie's reign would never progress beyond that, but Rick's suffering would be infinite, which is the point. That's just the 4 endings I could think up, just off the top of my head here!! Usually (the Mass Effect 3 ending is a good example of this) I'm not a huge fan of these ambiguous, choose your own ending, kind of endings, but here, I think it works REALLY well with this story. I have no idea if that was intentional or not, but I think it really works well and I hope Mr. Grbaclig doesn't mind!! And in the spirit of that, to cap off this wall of text, congratulations are due to you, Mr. Writer!! You have an absolutely phenomenal story, it was really fun, and really hot, really well written, and I don't see how anyone could ask for anything more!! I've heard you have more stories then just this and if this is just a taste of things to come, I simply cannot wait to dive in to more of your tales!! Take care!!
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What a great story! So much fun to read, kudos to the author.
I just hope Rick is smart enough to save up his money to afford a good lawyer to represent him in court for all the beatings he's about to recieve. (Again) it's kinda funny, but I kinda had guessed around the time reading about Kylie entering the Mr. Olympia contest that this was all a dream in Rick's head. The whole time Kylie was getting bigger and stronger and Rick literally did nothing to better himself or his situation, just bitching and taunting his sister. He deserves everything he got for being so stupid and inept.
Seriously though, great story!
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While I don't like how badly Kylie treats Rick, in a lot of ways he deserves it, so I don't feel terribly bad for him. I look forward to more, k+!
I've only just read this story so far (Part 1, Chapter 10) and I don't see how Rick deserves all this humiliation, he doesn't seem like a bad guy (so far) and doesn't seem especially misogynistic either (as I read in another comment). He doesn't like everything his sister is because she is always humiliating him, maybe if she would be nicer to him he could appreciate it, even admire it. He doesn't want to admit that his sister is feminine despite her loud muscles (although he seems to think the opposite), because his sister is mean to him, this seems to me to be a perfectly normal reaction for a young high schooler whose much stronger 12 year old sister humiliates him senseless. And regarding his girlfriend Allisson, she looks like an ultra sexy ordinary girl with big boobs, and Rick is described as one of the strongest guys in his high school, so it's normal that he finds it hard to believe that she's stronger than him at first (although he eventually accepts it), it has nothing to do with misogyny.
I really feel bad for him, the way he is treated by his little sister, and then later by his girlfriend who made him her sex slave. And I really hope it will get better for him (don't spoiler me lol).
Even though I don't like Kylie's and Allisson's behavior towards Rick, I'm still enjoying this story so far, I like to see how Kylie is an extraordinary girl, strong, muscular, intelligent, almost superhuman and who succeeds in everything she undertakes, to see that at only 12 years old, she already has a physique more impressive than junior female bodybuilders between 16 and 21 years. And despite the humiliation, there is no violence for the moment, so it goes well (which I could have feared with the title of the story). I hope that Kylie's character will soften for the sake of her older brother in the future. What I would like is for her to be able to become a loving and protective little sister to her big brother, but in the title of the story, I have little hope.
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What did her dad think he was doing, when she agreed to pay the mortgage on the house, it was no longer her dad's roof, it was her roof, so she makes the rules, she says what goes. Her dad is much like Rick, stuck in the old way of doing things, where men were in control based only on the fact that they were men and that's the way it had been for thousands of years, but Kylie has shown beyond a shadow of a doubt that she's better than the average man, and now, I'm thinking she's going to show that she can be better than the best of men, and I don't think it's going to take her very long to get there. My question is what's going to happen to Allison, she was sent up into Kylie's room and Kylie was going to get there in 5 minutes, but I think her workout is going to last much longer than that. And Rick, I think you're not going to be sleeping very well for a long time soon enough. I look forward to part 2, grbaclig, you have me hooked once again. k+!
I really can't agree with this kind of comment. I want to understand that the fantasy in front of a girl as spectacular as kylie (and not perfect, she way too arrogant, rude and mean to be perfect) that you may want to be on her side, but let's be realistic 2 minutes (even if this story is not lol). Kylie, as exceptional as she is, is a 12 year old girl, she is underage and under the responsibility of her parents. His father, like his mother, has raised and nurtured him so far (and although now she no longer needs them to feed her, they are expected to keep raising him until at least 18. years), as such she must respect and obey her father (just like her mother). Even an adult of full age owes respect to his parents. His father is absolutely right to react. This has nothing to do with male domination or anything else, it has to do with the parent-child relationship. And the most stupid character in this story is undoubtedly the mother who lets everything go to her daughter under the pretext that she is "perfect" and who berates her husband instead of standing up for him.
And just because Kylie paid off the mortgage on the house doesn't mean that she's the owner of the house, the credit the parents took it, they certainly started paying off for some time. many years and the papers of the house are in their name, so she lives well every day under the roof of her parents. And that doesn't give him all the rights either.
Okay i will try not to reply to all the old commentary on this fiction before i finish all the chapters, i dont want to sound like a spammer lol
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The mother is kinda meh, but Rick deserves what he gets and worse.
1. He's a total pussy.
2. He's been nothing but negative towards his superior sister at all times. She wins the Ms. Olympia and he just mopes. He doubted her at every turn.
3. He went into her room when he knows he's not allowed.
4. And let's not forget. He sent a gang after her to violently beat her. A few broken fingers, some missing teeth, and boob smothering is something he should be grateful for. His sister could do serious permanent damage to him without any effort & he'd deserve it all.
I'm stepping in again, because I can't believe that anyone would think that Rick would deserve all of this. You really have to be as heartless as Kylie or blinded by your fantasies to think such a thing.
Let's put everything in context:
Rick has been humiliated by his younger sister for many years, he is not humiliated only because his sister is a superhuman better than him in every way and 100x stronger than him, she treats him like a nobody and puts him down in front of everyone. At first I thought it was only psychological humiliation and that she was using her strength only to prove to him how much stronger she is without hurting him, but now I see that she is very violent and does not hesitate to hurt him. How do you want him to be positive? With a sister like that you can only be negative. Psychologically he is so damaged that he can't be positive towards his sister. On the other hand, her achievements are so surreal that no one in their right mind can believe it's possible, you can't blame him for not believing that his 13 year old sister could win Mr. Universe, it's totally insane, despite the incredible abilities she had already demonstrated before. It's sure that it makes us dream but it's totally insane.
Even if in the fiction it is often mentioned that he is jealous, it's not really jealousy, it's just that he would like his arrogant and humiliating sister to lose once in her life. And if for a moment he wanted to be stronger than her, it's not out of jealousy, but only so that she stops humiliating him and finds a correct life
The only bad and unforgivable thing he did was to pay thugs to assault his little sister and send her to the hospital, this would have deserved a good lesson, but I see it more as an act of desperation so that she would stop humiliating him and he could finally get his life back.
The further I get into the story the more it takes turns I don't like, between humiliation, violence and injustice. But I'm still curious to know how all this can end, and although I find Kylie detestable (like all the female characters in this story), there is something in her that I find fantastic.
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The mother is kinda meh, but Rick deserves what he gets and worse.
1. He's a total pussy.
2. He's been nothing but negative towards his superior sister at all times. She wins the Ms. Olympia and he just mopes. He doubted her at every turn.
3. He went into her room when he knows he's not allowed.
4. And let's not forget. He sent a gang after her to violently beat her. A few broken fingers, some missing teeth, and boob smothering is something he should be grateful for. His sister could do serious permanent damage to him without any effort & he'd deserve it all.
I'm stepping in again, because I can't believe that anyone would think that Rick would deserve all of this. You really have to be as heartless as Kylie or blinded by your fantasies to think such a thing.
Let's put everything in context:
Rick has been humiliated by his younger sister for many years, he is not humiliated only because his sister is a superhuman better than him in every way and 100x stronger than him, she treats him like a nobody and puts him down in front of everyone. At first I thought it was only psychological humiliation and that she was using her strength only to prove to him how much stronger she is without hurting him, but now I see that she is very violent and does not hesitate to hurt him. How do you want him to be positive? With a sister like that you can only be negative. Psychologically he is so damaged that he can't be positive towards his sister. On the other hand, her achievements are so surreal that no one in their right mind can believe it's possible, you can't blame him for not believing that his 13 year old sister could win Mr. Universe, it's totally insane, despite the incredible abilities she had already demonstrated before. It's sure that it makes us dream but it's totally insane.
Even if in the fiction it is often mentioned that he is jealous, it's not really jealousy, it's just that he would like his arrogant and humiliating sister to lose once in her life. And if for a moment he wanted to be stronger than her, it's not out of jealousy, but only so that she stops humiliating him and finds a correct life
The only bad and unforgivable thing he did was to pay thugs to assault his little sister and send her to the hospital, this would have deserved a good lesson, but I see it more as an act of desperation so that she would stop humiliating him and he could finally get his life back.
The further I get into the story the more it takes turns I don't like, between humiliation, violence and injustice. But I'm still curious to know how all this can end, and although I find Kylie detestable (like all the female characters in this story), there is something in her that I find fantastic.
And we all know, as Kylie knows for having mentioned it herself, that Rick would never have gone back to his room without being forced to. Ok Kylie is able to hurt him much more than Allisson but in the meantime it was Allisson who threatened him, he had no choice.
Besides, I thought for a moment that Kylie was going to spare her brother and forgive him, only taking on the other two girls, because she says that Rick would never have gone back of his own free will that he was forced to do. This makes her even more cruel when she goes after him.
Rick is clearly the victim of the story, I can't help but feel pity and empathy for him.
PS: I wish I could edit my post, but I can't.
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I finally finished reading the whole thing.
I hope this comment won't be too complicated for you to read because English is not my first language, I'm French and I use an automatic translator, I'm very bad in English. I didn't expect to write so much, my comment is at least as long as a chapter of this story lol, but I had a lot to say about this story that is as fascinating as it is depressing, but that I really enjoyed reading.
I enjoyed this story as much as I hated it, I found this story very depressing for at least the first 2 parts, it was very hard to read (especially when you read everything in a row), so much the feeling of injustice is huge and seems to be more and more without issue, moreover I'm really not a fan of stories with domination, humiliation and violence, I prefer stories with muscular girls who are strong and soft at the same time, non-violent, loving and protective, which is the opposite of Kylie, however it was very well written, the story is exciting (even putting aside the fantasy) and I always wanted to know more, I wanted to know how far it would go. And as I said in another comment, even though Kylie has a hateful character, there is something fantastic about her that makes you like her anyway. Besides, I think she has a good heart and could have been a better person if she had a better education or if someone could have helped her open her eyes. She is the result of what could happen if a spoiled rotten child is given immeasurable power. In fact, what she missed in her life is an uncle Ben (or an aunt May) who teaches her certain values in life such as "with great power, comes great responsibility". But it's true that in the beginning you would have thought that she could have chosen a better path, she didn't get angry at her brother when she knew that he had paid some thugs to attack her, she was remorseful and apologized when she sent her brother to the hospital because of his anger when he broke the statuette of Athena (when it was really not his fault) but his power, more and more huge and unmeasurable, ended up going to her head too much and got the better of her at a point of no return. On the other hand her behavior with her father is the most detestable, no child should behave like that with his parents, even with such a great power (Superman is part of this universe and yet he was raised by humans much weaker than him, and he always respected the authority of his parents, that said, Kylie's parents are far from being Martha and Jonathan Kent), but what disgusted me the most was at the end when she forced her father to watch her fuck a 100 adult women porn stars for an hour, without him being able to close his eyes with a device like "Clockwork Orange", it's the most ultimate torture a father can undergo from his own child (just thinking about it turns my heart upside down) not being able to blink for an hour is already a pretty awful torture in itself, but in this situation it is not the worst, being forced to watch his own daughter of barely 14 years old having sex with a hundred of adult female porn stars for an hour, I can't explain the trauma of the father after that (by the way, we didn't see him after that, we don't really know what happened to him). But the most detestable character in this story is without a doubt "mom", she is the obvious cause of the tyrant that her daughter has become, always defending her in the indefensible, encouraging her in the worst she can do, and she becomes worse and worse as the chapters go by, besides I'm sure that in the last chapters, if she had the opportunity, she would have fucked her own 13 year old daughter, if it hasn't already been done without it being mentioned in the story, it would not be surprising, she is so fascinated by her daughter, even letting her have sexual behaviors in front of her and her family or in public, always defending her in there if someone protests, she behaves with her daughter in the same way as other women or girls who are obsessed with her body (she might have a little more distance because it's her daughter but she would be able to do the same things as these other women). She has become especially hateful since she is muscular and strong, but she was already overprotecting her "perfect muscular princess" in a hateful way long before this, the only thing that has changed since then and that makes her even more hateful is that she has become a tyrant herself with her husband and her son to the point of totally abandoning her husband to the profile of Alisson who is basically her son's girlfriend (I wonder how come they didn't divorce with her husband), while letting her daughter run everything. Everything about this woman exasperates me to no end. I think she belongs in an asylum and should not be taking care of children. Speaking of muscular women becoming tyrannical towards men, that's one thing I don't like about this story, it's the kind of story where all the muscular women are real tyrants towards men, as if in this universe muscular and nice women can't exist, which is quite depressing when you are a man who likes loving muscular women, even worse, here all the muscular women seem to be lesbians, which is even more depressing when you are a straight man who likes muscular and powerful women. This universe is even more depressing than reality. I find reality depressing enough for men like us who like muscular women because the women we like are far too rare and not well accepted in our society, but here it's even worse because they are all tyrannical lesbians towards men and even if Kylie seems to influence all the women and girls in the world to become muscular and strong, it doesn't change anything for men like us, because they also all become lesbians obsessed with Kylie's ultra muscular 13/14 year old body, it even makes it more difficult and depressing for us because we would see women and girls becoming muscular and powerful from all over the world, but they will all be even more unattainable than the muscular women in reality. In short, if I lived in Kylie's world, I would shoot myself directly in the head. It would be like life giving me a monumental middle finger: "you always wanted a muscular, powerful, kind and protective woman, we'll put muscular women everywhere in the world but they'll all be lesbians and tyrannical towards men, they'll be even more unattainable than ever". In fact, while I was reading this story, I felt even more depressed than I was before about my situation, but I couldn't stop reading, I still wanted to know more.
However, the arrival of Lauren Ling in the story was a real relief, finally a normal female character in this story who cares about Rick. Before her arrival, one could have really believed that in this universe, all women are hysterical and against men, as even the most secondary female characters behave like that (especially in front of Kylie's body who is only 13 years old). Lauren is not muscular or physically strong, but it feels good that she's there in the midst of this madness, and she has a lot of strength of character that allows her, among other, to resist Kylie's sexual attraction (although her love for Rick seems to be a big help in this too). She says that only mentally fragile women can succumb to Kylie's sexual attraction, but the story doesn't show us any other woman (or girl) except her who managed to resist him, so it seems that all the other women in this universe are psychologically fragile, even Lois Lane succumbed quite easily (which surprised me because Lois Lane is supposed to have a very strong character). I have a lot of trouble believing in Lauren's theories, there are a lot of inconsistencies in her theories (I also don't believe in her theory that women are more attracted to Kylie's body than men because women are naturally attracted to muscles, believing that in this universe men like us who admire muscular women don't exist, and that the most attractive men in this universe are professional bodybuilders, such as Mr.Universe). What I also like about Lauren is that she was teased and harassed during her whole childhood because of her physique, but she managed to overcome all that in a very intelligent way, she used that to strengthen her character, and she is today a very beautiful and intelligent woman, with a strong mental strength. In fact Lauren gives the impression of a girl from our reality who arrives in this crazy world. Afterwards, there is also her little special gift that makes her not quite normal either and that finally integrates her well in this crazy world.
Concerning the end, we have to talk about it too, I found it rather well done, it's almost like Christopher Nolan, it's almost like "Inception", I wonder if we didn't all undergo an inception while reading this story. Is it a dream, a time loop, a premonitory dream or something else? That is the question. However, contrary to what I read in a commentary, the Superman comics do not mean anything and seem to be more an element put in place to mislead us. In a universe where Superman exists, there is no reason why there can't be comics with his image, superheroes are very popular in their own universe, they have many fans and are ultra mediatized (especially since Superman is the most popular and most mediatized superhero of his own universe), many objects with their images are sold, many stories about their adventures are written including comics, in general most of the popular superheroes have their own comics in their own universe, the difference with reality is that these comics certainly don't have to talk about their civilian life since their secret identity is not supposed to be known (so it wouldn't be surprising in these comics, for example, that Superman could have interactions with Clark Kent when they are actually the same person). I'd go for a kind of time loop or a premonitory dream because it seems to come true. How could he have predicted in his dream that Kylie would get dumbbells from her grandmother for Christmas if it's just an ordinary dream? You are going to tell me that he could have known in advance about his sister's gifts and that this was the basis of his dream, but he seems surprised that this is happening so I doubt that he knew in advance. On the other hand, at one point I thought it might be a dream within a dream, since Kylie seems to be bulking up as she pumps her dumbbell, whereas in the story her muscular evolution up to age 13 seems to be more regular, though supernatural for such a young girl, it is only from age 13 on that her muscular evolution accelerated ever more improbably over the next year until she is 14 and takes down Superman before Rick wakes up. But the dream within the dream does not seem to be what the author intended. On the other hand, a simple dream that takes place during almost 4 years of a life, with precise moments of each day lived in this life, seems to me rather unlikely for it to be that.
However, I wonder if there are some inconsistencies in the timeline of the story, I have the impression that the year of Kylie's 13th birthday lasted longer than it should have (I don't know if there were two seasons during this year, spring, summer or autumn). On the other hand I noticed a little inconsistency in Lola's age, because she is 11 years old when she appears for the first time in the story at M.Olympia while Kylie is already 13 years old, she is 12 years old some time later when we see her for the second time, we can say that she has celebrated her 12th birthday in the meantime, but she is already 13 years old when Kylie celebrates her 14th birthday, she should logically be 12 years old at that time and have her 13th birthday later (after the next M.Olympia).
One thing too, talking about Kylie's muscular evolution, there came a time, when she was getting so big, that I had a hard time imagining what she could look like, especially compared to her size, it was fine until the strongest man in the world contest, but after that I was completely lost, it was beyond my imagination lol. Already in M.Olympia, with an average height of a 13 years old girl and muscles bigger than any professional male bodybuilder, it's already really huge proportions, but you can still imagine it, at the strongest man in the world contest, she still got bigger but it's still ok, but after that it started to get really hard to imagine. That said, personally, I like it when a woman or a girl has supernatural muscles, bigger than any man could ever have, but there are limits, it has to remain aesthetic, but when the girl is as wide as she is high and she can't go through the doors, there is not much aesthetic left. At the end of the story, if I based myself only on the given measurements, I could only imagine a kind of shapeless mass of muscular flesh that doesn't resemble a human being at all, I still wonder how she could be described as feminine and sexy since she couldn't even resemble a human being with this kind of proportions, fortunately my imagination was unable to imagine her with these propotions and still allowed me to see her as a muscular, feminine and sexy girl (although she is only 14 years old at the end of the story).
I'm not a fan of big breasts on a muscular woman's body either, already on an ordinary woman when the breasts are bigger than it's naturally possible I'm not a fan, but on a muscular woman even less because I find that it really spoils the muscular aestheticism of the woman and it's not necessarily more feminine, I prefer big pectorals with small breasts that fit well with the pectorals, I find it much more aesthetic and just as feminine. Anyway a muscular woman even if she doesn't have breasts, she is still as feminine as another one, the torso is still different from a man's, and she still keeps more or less feminine curves (not to mention that muscles shouldn't be considered more masculine than feminine). And on underage girl between 12 and 14 years old, muscular like Kylie or Lola, it goes even less well, I think. As Maria Wattel says on her Insta**** "you don't need to have breasts when you have pectorals", and I think she's absolutely right (a woman without sen or muscle is not very pretty but a woman without breasts with pectoral gors, I think it's beautiful). After, this is only a question of taste.
And to finish I wanted to answer to those who say that fantasizing about muscular underage girls is disgusting, yes it's true that it's disgusting but I think unfortunately that it's the case for a majority of admirers of female muscles, because it's necessarily a little bit linked, for many of us our fantasy is linked to the admiration that we have for women who surpass themselves physically, we like to be impressed by women who surpass us physically at the muscular level and strength, the more they surpass us and the more they surpass other men, the more we are impressed, and the more we like it, and a young girl underage with this kind of physical characteristics is even more impressive, so inevitably we are going to like it all the more, and since it is linked to our fantasies, it is difficult to ignore this. But the important thing is to be able to distinguish between fantasy and reality. In fiction it's cool, in reality it's not so cool, an underage child in reality is psychologically and physically fragile and needs to be protected.
Moreover in this story, Kylie may have a phenomenal power, to do what she wants, to decide herself of her life and of the life of the others, to have a complete autonomy and a house to her at the age of only 13 years, without counting all the adult women that she manages to seduce with her body, she is still psychologically fragile, and it is because of her childish psychological fragility that she became this tyrant, she was too fragile to handle all this power, it went to her brain and she had no one to help her manage it all. A teenager in the middle of puberty needs to be surrounded to help her deal with the changes that are taking place in her body. Kylie's body in full puberty underwent phenomenal changes in a very short time, changes that allowed her to master any adult, she needed all the more a reliable entourage to help her manage all this, but she didn't have it, she couldn't count on her unworthy mother who encouraged her in her worst follies, nor her father who was too cowardly to really impose himself, and even less on her big brother who was too much in her shadow because of her parents and who was too much mistreated by her, he was too much destroyed by herself (and by the other people around her) to be able to help her.
Speaking of her brother, one thing that was missing in the story is a father-son relationship, the story doesn't mention any interaction between Rick and his father, not even a dialogue, we don't know anything about their relationship, even though they were both in the same boat. Moreover, Rick doesn't even seem to have any friends, while he is not described as an unpopular or asocial young man who always stays locked up at home or in his corner, he is totally destroyed by his sister and then later by his girlfriend Allison, and then again later by his mother, but he talks easily with the others, especially since his relationship with Allison (although increasingly artificial) is supposed to make him popular, so it's strange that the story doesn't mention any friends, and that's a lack.
On that note, this story has inspired me a lot, it inspires me so much that I've been thinking about writing a sequel-reboot from the end after Rick's awakening, where this time Rick helps his sister to become a good person while developing the same power, I think it could be interesting to deal with and I have a lot of ideas for it, it might be something I'll do later, if grbaclig is ok with us writing stories with his characters.
Having said that, I have a lot of ideas for stories around muscles and female strength but I never really got started.
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I finally finished reading the whole thing.
I hope this comment won't be too complicated for you to read because English is not my first language, I'm French and I use an automatic translator, I'm very bad in English. I didn't expect to write so much, my comment is at least as long as a chapter of this story lol, but I had a lot to say about this story that is as fascinating as it is depressing, but that I really enjoyed reading.
I enjoyed this story as much as I hated it, I found this story very depressing for at least the first 2 parts, it was very hard to read (especially when you read everything in a row), so much the feeling of injustice is huge and seems to be more and more without issue, moreover I'm really not a fan of stories with domination, humiliation and violence, I prefer stories with muscular girls who are strong and soft at the same time, non-violent, loving and protective, which is the opposite of Kylie, however it was very well written, the story is exciting (even putting aside the fantasy) and I always wanted to know more, I wanted to know how far it would go. And as I said in another comment, even though Kylie has a hateful character, there is something fantastic about her that makes you like her anyway. Besides, I think she has a good heart and could have been a better person if she had a better education or if someone could have helped her open her eyes. She is the result of what could happen if a spoiled rotten child is given immeasurable power. In fact, what she missed in her life is an uncle Ben (or an aunt May) who teaches her certain values in life such as "with great power, comes great responsibility". But it's true that in the beginning you would have thought that she could have chosen a better path, she didn't get angry at her brother when she knew that he had paid some thugs to attack her, she was remorseful and apologized when she sent her brother to the hospital because of his anger when he broke the statuette of Athena (when it was really not his fault) but his power, more and more huge and unmeasurable, ended up going to her head too much and got the better of her at a point of no return. On the other hand her behavior with her father is the most detestable, no child should behave like that with his parents, even with such a great power (Superman is part of this universe and yet he was raised by humans much weaker than him, and he always respected the authority of his parents, that said, Kylie's parents are far from being Martha and Jonathan Kent), but what disgusted me the most was at the end when she forced her father to watch her fuck a 100 adult women porn stars for an hour, without him being able to close his eyes with a device like "Clockwork Orange", it's the most ultimate torture a father can undergo from his own child (just thinking about it turns my heart upside down) not being able to blink for an hour is already a pretty awful torture in itself, but in this situation it is not the worst, being forced to watch his own daughter of barely 14 years old having sex with a hundred of adult female porn stars for an hour, I can't explain the trauma of the father after that (by the way, we didn't see him after that, we don't really know what happened to him). But the most detestable character in this story is without a doubt "mom", she is the obvious cause of the tyrant that her daughter has become, always defending her in the indefensible, encouraging her in the worst she can do, and she becomes worse and worse as the chapters go by, besides I'm sure that in the last chapters, if she had the opportunity, she would have fucked her own 13 year old daughter, if it hasn't already been done without it being mentioned in the story, it would not be surprising, she is so fascinated by her daughter, even letting her have sexual behaviors in front of her and her family or in public, always defending her in there if someone protests, she behaves with her daughter in the same way as other women or girls who are obsessed with her body (she might have a little more distance because it's her daughter but she would be able to do the same things as these other women). She has become especially hateful since she is muscular and strong, but she was already overprotecting her "perfect muscular princess" in a hateful way long before this, the only thing that has changed since then and that makes her even more hateful is that she has become a tyrant herself with her husband and her son to the point of totally abandoning her husband to the profile of Alisson who is basically her son's girlfriend (I wonder how come they didn't divorce with her husband), while letting her daughter run everything. Everything about this woman exasperates me to no end. I think she belongs in an asylum and should not be taking care of children. Speaking of muscular women becoming tyrannical towards men, that's one thing I don't like about this story, it's the kind of story where all the muscular women are real tyrants towards men, as if in this universe muscular and nice women can't exist, which is quite depressing when you are a man who likes loving muscular women, even worse, here all the muscular women seem to be lesbians, which is even more depressing when you are a straight man who likes muscular and powerful women. This universe is even more depressing than reality. I find reality depressing enough for men like us who like muscular women because the women we like are far too rare and not well accepted in our society, but here it's even worse because they are all tyrannical lesbians towards men and even if Kylie seems to influence all the women and girls in the world to become muscular and strong, it doesn't change anything for men like us, because they also all become lesbians obsessed with Kylie's ultra muscular 13/14 year old body, it even makes it more difficult and depressing for us because we would see women and girls becoming muscular and powerful from all over the world, but they will all be even more unattainable than the muscular women in reality. In short, if I lived in Kylie's world, I would shoot myself directly in the head. It would be like life giving me a monumental middle finger: "you always wanted a muscular, powerful, kind and protective woman, we'll put muscular women everywhere in the world but they'll all be lesbians and tyrannical towards men, they'll be even more unattainable than ever". In fact, while I was reading this story, I felt even more depressed than I was before about my situation, but I couldn't stop reading, I still wanted to know more.
However, the arrival of Lauren Ling in the story was a real relief, finally a normal female character in this story who cares about Rick. Before her arrival, one could have really believed that in this universe, all women are hysterical and against men, as even the most secondary female characters behave like that (especially in front of Kylie's body who is only 13 years old). Lauren is not muscular or physically strong, but it feels good that she's there in the midst of this madness, and she has a lot of strength of character that allows her, among other, to resist Kylie's sexual attraction (although her love for Rick seems to be a big help in this too). She says that only mentally fragile women can succumb to Kylie's sexual attraction, but the story doesn't show us any other woman (or girl) except her who managed to resist him, so it seems that all the other women in this universe are psychologically fragile, even Lois Lane succumbed quite easily (which surprised me because Lois Lane is supposed to have a very strong character). I have a lot of trouble believing in Lauren's theories, there are a lot of inconsistencies in her theories (I also don't believe in her theory that women are more attracted to Kylie's body than men because women are naturally attracted to muscles, believing that in this universe men like us who admire muscular women don't exist, and that the most attractive men in this universe are professional bodybuilders, such as Mr.Universe). What I also like about Lauren is that she was teased and harassed during her whole childhood because of her physique, but she managed to overcome all that in a very intelligent way, she used that to strengthen her character, and she is today a very beautiful and intelligent woman, with a strong mental strength. In fact Lauren gives the impression of a girl from our reality who arrives in this crazy world. Afterwards, there is also her little special gift that makes her not quite normal either and that finally integrates her well in this crazy world.
Concerning the end, we have to talk about it too, I found it rather well done, it's almost like Christopher Nolan, it's almost like "Inception", I wonder if we didn't all undergo an inception while reading this story. Is it a dream, a time loop, a premonitory dream or something else? That is the question. However, contrary to what I read in a commentary, the Superman comics do not mean anything and seem to be more an element put in place to mislead us. In a universe where Superman exists, there is no reason why there can't be comics with his image, superheroes are very popular in their own universe, they have many fans and are ultra mediatized (especially since Superman is the most popular and most mediatized superhero of his own universe), many objects with their images are sold, many stories about their adventures are written including comics, in general most of the popular superheroes have their own comics in their own universe, the difference with reality is that these comics certainly don't have to talk about their civilian life since their secret identity is not supposed to be known (so it wouldn't be surprising in these comics, for example, that Superman could have interactions with Clark Kent when they are actually the same person). I'd go for a kind of time loop or a premonitory dream because it seems to come true. How could he have predicted in his dream that Kylie would get dumbbells from her grandmother for Christmas if it's just an ordinary dream? You are going to tell me that he could have known in advance about his sister's gifts and that this was the basis of his dream, but he seems surprised that this is happening so I doubt that he knew in advance. On the other hand, at one point I thought it might be a dream within a dream, since Kylie seems to be bulking up as she pumps her dumbbell, whereas in the story her muscular evolution up to age 13 seems to be more regular, though supernatural for such a young girl, it is only from age 13 on that her muscular evolution accelerated ever more improbably over the next year until she is 14 and takes down Superman before Rick wakes up. But the dream within the dream does not seem to be what the author intended. On the other hand, a simple dream that takes place during almost 4 years of a life, with precise moments of each day lived in this life, seems to me rather unlikely for it to be that.
However, I wonder if there are some inconsistencies in the timeline of the story, I have the impression that the year of Kylie's 13th birthday lasted longer than it should have (I don't know if there were two seasons during this year, spring, summer or autumn). On the other hand I noticed a little inconsistency in Lola's age, because she is 11 years old when she appears for the first time in the story at M.Olympia while Kylie is already 13 years old, she is 12 years old some time later when we see her for the second time, we can say that she has celebrated her 12th birthday in the meantime, but she is already 13 years old when Kylie celebrates her 14th birthday, she should logically be 12 years old at that time and have her 13th birthday later (after the next M.Olympia).
One thing too, talking about Kylie's muscular evolution, there came a time, when she was getting so big, that I had a hard time imagining what she could look like, especially compared to her size, it was fine until the strongest man in the world contest, but after that I was completely lost, it was beyond my imagination lol. Already in M.Olympia, with an average height of a 13 years old girl and muscles bigger than any professional male bodybuilder, it's already really huge proportions, but you can still imagine it, at the strongest man in the world contest, she still got bigger but it's still ok, but after that it started to get really hard to imagine. That said, personally, I like it when a woman or a girl has supernatural muscles, bigger than any man could ever have, but there are limits, it has to remain aesthetic, but when the girl is as wide as she is high and she can't go through the doors, there is not much aesthetic left. At the end of the story, if I based myself only on the given measurements, I could only imagine a kind of shapeless mass of muscular flesh that doesn't resemble a human being at all, I still wonder how she could be described as feminine and sexy since she couldn't even resemble a human being with this kind of proportions, fortunately my imagination was unable to imagine her with these propotions and still allowed me to see her as a muscular, feminine and sexy girl (although she is only 14 years old at the end of the story).
I'm not a fan of big breasts on a muscular woman's body either, already on an ordinary woman when the breasts are bigger than it's naturally possible I'm not a fan, but on a muscular woman even less because I find that it really spoils the muscular aestheticism of the woman and it's not necessarily more feminine, I prefer big pectorals with small breasts that fit well with the pectorals, I find it much more aesthetic and just as feminine. Anyway a muscular woman even if she doesn't have breasts, she is still as feminine as another one, the torso is still different from a man's, and she still keeps more or less feminine curves (not to mention that muscles shouldn't be considered more masculine than feminine). And on underage girl between 12 and 14 years old, muscular like Kylie or Lola, it goes even less well, I think. As Maria Wattel says on her Inst@gram "you don't need to have breasts when you have pectorals", and I think she's absolutely right (a woman without sen or muscle is not very pretty but a woman without breasts with pectoral gors, I think it's beautiful). After, this is only a question of taste.
And to finish I wanted to answer to those who say that fantasizing about muscular underage girls is disgusting, yes it's true that it's disgusting but I think unfortunately that it's the case for a majority of admirers of female muscles, because it's necessarily a little bit linked, for many of us our fantasy is linked to the admiration that we have for women who surpass themselves physically, we like to be impressed by women who surpass us physically at the muscular level and strength, the more they surpass us and the more they surpass other men, the more we are impressed, and the more we like it, and a young girl underage with this kind of physical characteristics is even more impressive, so inevitably we are going to like it all the more, and since it is linked to our fantasies, it is difficult to ignore this. But the important thing is to be able to distinguish between fantasy and reality. In fiction it's cool, in reality it's not so cool, an underage child in reality is psychologically and physically fragile and needs to be protected.
Moreover in this story, Kylie may have a phenomenal power, to do what she wants, to decide herself of her life and of the life of the others, to have a complete autonomy and a house to her at the age of only 13 years, without counting all the adult women that she manages to seduce with her body, she is still psychologically fragile, and it is because of her childish psychological fragility that she became this tyrant, she was too fragile to handle all this power, it went to her brain and she had no one to help her manage it all. A teenager in the middle of puberty needs to be surrounded to help her deal with the changes that are taking place in her body. Kylie's body in full puberty underwent phenomenal changes in a very short time, changes that allowed her to master any adult, she needed all the more a reliable entourage to help her manage all this, but she didn't have it, she couldn't count on her unworthy mother who encouraged her in her worst follies, nor her father who was too cowardly to really impose himself, and even less on her big brother who was too much in her shadow because of her parents and who was too much mistreated by her, he was too much destroyed by herself (and by the other people around her) to be able to help her.
Speaking of her brother, one thing that was missing in the story is a father-son relationship, the story doesn't mention any interaction between Rick and his father, not even a dialogue, we don't know anything about their relationship, even though they were both in the same boat. Moreover, Rick doesn't even seem to have any friends, while he is not described as an unpopular or asocial young man who always stays locked up at home or in his corner, he is totally destroyed by his sister and then later by his girlfriend Allison, and then again later by his mother, but he talks easily with the others, especially since his relationship with Allison (although increasingly artificial) is supposed to make him popular, so it's strange that the story doesn't mention any friends, and that's a lack.
On that note, this story has inspired me a lot, it inspires me so much that I've been thinking about writing a sequel-reboot from the end after Rick's awakening, where this time Rick helps his sister to become a good person while developing the same power, I think it could be interesting to deal with and I have a lot of ideas for it, it might be something I'll do later, if grbaclig is ok with us writing stories with his characters.
Having said that, I have a lot of ideas for stories around muscles and female strength but I never really got started.
Yeah, this is total arrogance in a nutshell.
For one, your distinction between what is shown in reality and what is shown in fiction doesn't excuse the fantasies some members of this forum have of underage girls.
"I think (opinion) it is the case for the majority of female muscle admirers, because it's (statement) 'necessarily a little bit linked'."
Hold the phone: this information is drawn from the shabby assumption that all female muscle fetishists like younger women dominating them. You make a distorted claim that "many of us" (I wonder where this statistic came from and what it even means) feel this way. Not only is this pedophilia justified through equivocation, but it's also an example of the extent people will go to defend their fantasies.
It is not normal to fantasize about any underage child regardless of the fetish, and to say that the majority of people feel the same way as you do is what I like to call "majority comfort." You want to feel it is normal, so you yourself normalise it based on pure speculation. (I.E. Making up BS that this forum is vaguely associating "female muscle" across all ages [including minors], when, sorry to tell you, it isn't the case.) A great deal of the forum has complained about stories with younger characters, even if no sexual content is involved. You can even find posts about it.
You linked the connection based on nothing at all. You have not given any substantial evidence to support your claim besides a baseless opinion. Hence, this is where the arrogance comes in.
". . . and a young girl underage with this kind of physical characteristics is even more impressive, so inevitably we are going to like it all the more, and since it is linked to our fantasies, it is difficult to ignore this."
Again, this is all you, and a couple other sick people as well. Your "majority comfort" is just a defence mechanism you use to justify paedophilia. Your argument about reality and fiction makes no logical sense at all; it's like me saying, "Oh, well that was just a text I sent that girl. I would never actually do that." In this case, you're suggesting that you wouldn't fantasise about this with a real underage girl, to which I heavily disagree given the evidence in your comment.
" In fiction it's cool, in reality it's not so cool, an underage child in reality is psychologically and physically fragile and needs to be protected."
By this logic, animated child pornography is fine because it's completely fictional.
You need to work on your sexual health. This is not a normal thought process. You cannot defend it through a fetish with which you use to mask something far more sinister.
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Yeah, this is total arrogance in a nutshell.
For one, your distinction between what is shown in reality and what is shown in fiction doesn't excuse the fantasies some members of this forum have of underage girls.
"I think (opinion) it is the case for the majority of female muscle admirers, because it's (statement) 'necessarily a little bit linked'."
Hold the phone: this information is drawn from the shabby assumption that all female muscle fetishists like younger women dominating them. You make a distorted claim that "many of us" (I wonder where this statistic came from and what it even means) feel this way. Not only is this pedophilia justified through equivocation, but it's also an example of the extent people will go to defend their fantasies.
It is not normal to fantasize about any underage child regardless of the fetish, and to say that the majority of people feel the same way as you do is what I like to call "majority comfort." You want to feel it is normal, so you yourself normalise it based on pure speculation. (I.E. Making up BS that this forum is vaguely associating "female muscle" across all ages [including minors], when, sorry to tell you, it isn't the case.) A great deal of the forum has complained about stories with younger characters, even if no sexual content is involved. You can even find posts about it.
You linked the connection based on nothing at all. You have not given any substantial evidence to support your claim besides a baseless opinion. Hence, this is where the arrogance comes in.
". . . and a young girl underage with this kind of physical characteristics is even more impressive, so inevitably we are going to like it all the more, and since it is linked to our fantasies, it is difficult to ignore this."
Again, this is all you, and a couple other sick people as well. Your "majority comfort" is just a defence mechanism you use to justify paedophilia. Your argument about reality and fiction makes no logical sense at all; it's like me saying, "Oh, well that was just a text I sent that girl. I would never actually do that." In this case, you're suggesting that you wouldn't fantasise about this with a real underage girl, to which I heavily disagree given the evidence in your comment.
" In fiction it's cool, in reality it's not so cool, an underage child in reality is psychologically and physically fragile and needs to be protected."
By this logic, animated child pornography is fine because it's completely fictional.
You need to work on your sexual health. This is not a normal thought process. You cannot defend it through a fetish with which you use to mask something far more sinister.
Of course, even in fiction there are limits that should not be exceeded, and here alone there are times when I think it goes a bit too far. After that, I'm not a regular member, I don't know the fantasies of everybody about this subject, so I can't say anything. And it's normal that on a public forum like Saradas this has to be moderated, you can't do everything and anything when talking about underage children (even ultra powerful and muscular like Kylie).
That said, it is an ultra sensitive subject and it is very difficult to talk about.
Yes, my speech is only based on suppositions, I never claimed the contrary and I did say "I think" by developing why I think this. However, I don't consider this fantasy as pedophilia (even if I understand that it is difficult to distinguish it) simply because it is not directly related to the age of the minor girl or anything else related to childhood, but only to the muscles and the muscular power, the young age is only a pretext that makes these qualities that we appreciate in female persons even more impressive. It is also an opposition between age and muscular power. In any case, it is the muscular power that is the main vector of this fantasy (as it is for a large part of the admirers of female muscles). A person attracted to muscular and powerful girls will not necessarily be attracted to ordinary underage girls. Whereas for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood, which is the opposite of what one would look for in a muscular and powerful girl. I have already discussed this on a psychology forum and it was confirmed to me that if it is not related to childhood, but only to muscles and that ordinary underage girls without muscles do not cause us any attraction, it is not pedophilia. However, this does not mean that it is a good thing, and I have never claimed the contrary, we must always be very careful about the underage children.
And when I say it's "cool" in fiction, it's "cool" up to a certain limit, while in reality it's not cool at all to any limit.
I'm not at all in favor of anything that encourages sex on underage children (nor violence, but this doesn't only concern underage children). On the other hand, personally, I am able to admit a little sensuality on a muscular and strong underage girl (in fiction only), which I would not admit on an ordinary underage girl without muscles, because for me there is a noticeable difference between the two but I understand that this difference is difficult to identify. I'm not saying it's a good thing but I admit it (anyway sexualizing underage children, muscular or not, is never a good thing). But if I admit this sensuality it's because this is not directly linked to the young age (as I explained above) and it doesn't represent any danger, contrary to if this sensuality is destined to ordinary underage girls without muscles which is more directly linked to their young age and favors more behaviors of this kind towards real underage girls, which makes it more a real danger. That said, in general, this should only be aimed at a niche audience who are aware of all this, of these dangers, and who know the difference between fantasy and reality.
And "majority" doesn't mean "everybody", but I admit that I may have exaggerated a little bit by saying the majority, but I still think that there are many admirers of female muscles who have more or less this attraction for muscular and strong underage girls. And I also think that many of us don't want to admit it to ourselves or maybe we just don't know about it, because it goes against our values and principles, and it's normal to be ashamed of it when it affects underage children. It's not easy to except. So it is difficult to give an estimate, we can only guess.
Furthermore, not all admirers of female muscles admire muscular women for the same reasons, so we are not all likely to appreciate muscular and strong girls, it depends on what makes us admire female muscles.
On the other hand, we can't really compare with the fantasy of women on muscular men (I don't like to talk about fetishism, for me it's not really fetishism), as you did.
What attracts this kind of women is the combination of virility and muscle power, for them muscles are synonymous with virility and virility can only be present on adult men. Especially that this kind of women, it is really the extreme virility that they are looking for and they like to be impressed by this manly power. And this is completely in accordance with the notions of society where the man must be stronger than the woman, protect her, etc. There is no opposition sought to reality or society. Some may find this opposition of a muscular and very strong underage boy interesting and sensual, but it is not usually what is most sought after by these kinds of women.
Whereas for us, it's more a combination of femininity and muscular power. While it is true that adult women have feminine assets that young girls in early puberty do not have, femininity is a much broader concept than virility and muscles change the proportions of a physique, an underage girl with a bodybuilder's musculature is visually much closer to the physique of a bodybuilder adult woman than a bodybuilder underage boy can be to a bodybuilder adult man. But what pleases most of us is this opposition between femininity and muscular power as it is defined in our society, it is this same opposition that impresses us, we like to be impressed by this opposition, it fascinates us and seduces us, and we like to be overwhelmed by this opposition. So it is only a small step to find interest in the opposition between age and muscular power which is even more impressive. But at the opposite extreme one may also be likely to find interest in the opposition between very old age and muscular power, which is almost as impressive, more admirable, and much more ethical and moral, but the wrinkled skin of a person of advanced age makes it less aesthetic and therefore less sensual for some of us (unless we imagine that this person of advanced age has managed to keep a beautiful skin and a pretty face of young appearance, which gives another opposition just as interesting and impressive and much more aesthetic and sensual for more of us).
Another thing, us others, the admirers of female muscles, live in a difficult world, the women we admire are very rare, not always well accepted in our society, and our tastes are not always well understood. Some of us hide it from those around us for fear of not being understood. Many of us (including me) cannot find happiness with an ordinary woman because they will always be missing something, but the women who can give us this happiness are so rare that the majority of us have to remain single or settle for an ordinary woman with whom it will not be total happiness. So we get stuck in our fantasies by pushing them more and more to multiple extremes, which often go far beyond the aesthetic and feminine aspect (I personally prefer to keep a certain aesthetic and feminine aspect), some of these extremes are repulsive to me, and unfortunately the muscular and powerful underage girls are part of these extremes, and there is not much we can do.
I'm not talking about it to defend it (we can't defend the indefensible) but to make it better understood and to stop judging this kind of fantasy, this kind of fantasy is already difficult enough to live with, so let's avoid judging. The important thing is not to be a danger to anyone and to protect underage children. But I understand that this is difficult to understand.
That said, I found your comment a little too aggressive and I think you're judging me a little too hastily. I don't think I'm being arrogant by expressing my opinions and feelings on this extremely delicate subject which I myself have thought about for a long time.
On this, I still have written more than I would have liked, while this has this is not even directly related to Kylie's story, but I had to clarify these points because the subject is so delicate, complicated and difficult to understand, it can be misinterpreted and get out of hand very quickly. Moreover I use an automatic translator which makes the comprehension on a subject as delicate as this one even more difficult.
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Yeah, this is total arrogance in a nutshell.
For one, your distinction between what is shown in reality and what is shown in fiction doesn't excuse the fantasies some members of this forum have of underage girls.
"I think (opinion) it is the case for the majority of female muscle admirers, because it's (statement) 'necessarily a little bit linked'."
Hold the phone: this information is drawn from the shabby assumption that all female muscle fetishists like younger women dominating them. You make a distorted claim that "many of us" (I wonder where this statistic came from and what it even means) feel this way. Not only is this pedophilia justified through equivocation, but it's also an example of the extent people will go to defend their fantasies.
It is not normal to fantasize about any underage child regardless of the fetish, and to say that the majority of people feel the same way as you do is what I like to call "majority comfort." You want to feel it is normal, so you yourself normalise it based on pure speculation. (I.E. Making up BS that this forum is vaguely associating "female muscle" across all ages [including minors], when, sorry to tell you, it isn't the case.) A great deal of the forum has complained about stories with younger characters, even if no sexual content is involved. You can even find posts about it.
You linked the connection based on nothing at all. You have not given any substantial evidence to support your claim besides a baseless opinion. Hence, this is where the arrogance comes in.
". . . and a young girl underage with this kind of physical characteristics is even more impressive, so inevitably we are going to like it all the more, and since it is linked to our fantasies, it is difficult to ignore this."
Again, this is all you, and a couple other sick people as well. Your "majority comfort" is just a defence mechanism you use to justify paedophilia. Your argument about reality and fiction makes no logical sense at all; it's like me saying, "Oh, well that was just a text I sent that girl. I would never actually do that." In this case, you're suggesting that you wouldn't fantasise about this with a real underage girl, to which I heavily disagree given the evidence in your comment.
" In fiction it's cool, in reality it's not so cool, an underage child in reality is psychologically and physically fragile and needs to be protected."
By this logic, animated child pornography is fine because it's completely fictional.
You need to work on your sexual health. This is not a normal thought process. You cannot defend it through a fetish with which you use to mask something far more sinister.
Of course, even in fiction there are limits that should not be exceeded, and here alone there are times when I think it goes a bit too far. After that, I'm not a regular member, I don't know the fantasies of everybody about this subject, so I can't say anything. And it's normal that on a public forum like Saradas this has to be moderated, you can't do everything and anything when talking about underage children (even ultra powerful and muscular like Kylie).
That said, it is an ultra sensitive subject and it is very difficult to talk about.
Yes, my speech is only based on suppositions, I never claimed the contrary and I did say "I think" by developing why I think this. However, I don't consider this fantasy as pedophilia (even if I understand that it is difficult to distinguish it) simply because it is not directly related to the age of the minor girl or anything else related to childhood, but only to the muscles and the muscular power, the young age is only a pretext that makes these qualities that we appreciate in female persons even more impressive. It is also an opposition between age and muscular power. In any case, it is the muscular power that is the main vector of this fantasy (as it is for a large part of the admirers of female muscles). A person attracted to muscular and powerful girls will not necessarily be attracted to ordinary underage girls. Whereas for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood, which is the opposite of what one would look for in a muscular and powerful girl. I have already discussed this on a psychology forum and it was confirmed to me that if it is not related to childhood, but only to muscles and that ordinary underage girls without muscles do not cause us any attraction, it is not pedophilia. However, this does not mean that it is a good thing, and I have never claimed the contrary, we must always be very careful about the underage children.
And when I say it's "cool" in fiction, it's "cool" up to a certain limit, while in reality it's not cool at all to any limit.
I'm not at all in favor of anything that encourages sex on underage children (nor violence, but this doesn't only concern underage children). On the other hand, personally, I am able to admit a little sensuality on a muscular and strong underage girl (in fiction only), which I would not admit on an ordinary underage girl without muscles, because for me there is a noticeable difference between the two but I understand that this difference is difficult to identify. I'm not saying it's a good thing but I admit it (anyway sexualizing underage children, muscular or not, is never a good thing). But if I admit this sensuality it's because this is not directly linked to the young age (as I explained above) and it doesn't represent any danger, contrary to if this sensuality is destined to ordinary underage girls without muscles which is more directly linked to their young age and favors more behaviors of this kind towards real underage girls, which makes it more a real danger. That said, in general, this should only be aimed at a niche audience who are aware of all this, of these dangers, and who know the difference between fantasy and reality.
And "majority" doesn't mean "everybody", but I admit that I may have exaggerated a little bit by saying the majority, but I still think that there are many admirers of female muscles who have more or less this attraction for muscular and strong underage girls. And I also think that many of us don't want to admit it to ourselves or maybe we just don't know about it, because it goes against our values and principles, and it's normal to be ashamed of it when it affects underage children. It's not easy to except. So it is difficult to give an estimate, we can only guess.
Furthermore, not all admirers of female muscles admire muscular women for the same reasons, so we are not all likely to appreciate muscular and strong girls, it depends on what makes us admire female muscles.
On the other hand, we can't really compare with the fantasy of women on muscular men (I don't like to talk about fetishism, for me it's not really fetishism), as you did.
What attracts this kind of women is the combination of virility and muscle power, for them muscles are synonymous with virility and virility can only be present on adult men. Especially that this kind of women, it is really the extreme virility that they are looking for and they like to be impressed by this manly power. And this is completely in accordance with the notions of society where the man must be stronger than the woman, protect her, etc. There is no opposition sought to reality or society. Some may find this opposition of a muscular and very strong underage boy interesting and sensual, but it is not usually what is most sought after by these kinds of women.
Whereas for us, it's more a combination of femininity and muscular power. While it is true that adult women have feminine assets that young girls in early puberty do not have, femininity is a much broader concept than virility and muscles change the proportions of a physique, an underage girl with a bodybuilder's musculature is visually much closer to the physique of a bodybuilder adult woman than a bodybuilder underage boy can be to a bodybuilder adult man. But what pleases most of us is this opposition between femininity and muscular power as it is defined in our society, it is this same opposition that impresses us, we like to be impressed by this opposition, it fascinates us and seduces us, and we like to be overwhelmed by this opposition. So it is only a small step to find interest in the opposition between age and muscular power which is even more impressive. But at the opposite extreme one may also be likely to find interest in the opposition between very old age and muscular power, which is almost as impressive, more admirable, and much more ethical and moral, but the wrinkled skin of a person of advanced age makes it less aesthetic and therefore less sensual for some of us (unless we imagine that this person of advanced age has managed to keep a beautiful skin and a pretty face of young appearance, which gives another opposition just as interesting and impressive and much more aesthetic and sensual for more of us).
Another thing, us others, the admirers of female muscles, live in a difficult world, the women we admire are very rare, not always well accepted in our society, and our tastes are not always well understood. Some of us hide it from those around us for fear of not being understood. Many of us (including me) cannot find happiness with an ordinary woman because they will always be missing something, but the women who can give us this happiness are so rare that the majority of us have to remain single or settle for an ordinary woman with whom it will not be total happiness. So we get stuck in our fantasies by pushing them more and more to multiple extremes, which often go far beyond the aesthetic and feminine aspect (I personally prefer to keep a certain aesthetic and feminine aspect), some of these extremes are repulsive to me, and unfortunately the muscular and powerful underage girls are part of these extremes, and there is not much we can do.
I'm not talking about it to defend it (we can't defend the indefensible) but to make it better understood and to stop judging this kind of fantasy, this kind of fantasy is already difficult enough to live with, so let's avoid judging. The important thing is not to be a danger to anyone and to protect underage children. But I understand that this is difficult to understand.
That said, I found your comment a little too aggressive and I think you're judging me a little too hastily. I don't think I'm being arrogant by expressing my opinions and feelings on this extremely delicate subject which I myself have thought about for a long time.
On this, I still have written more than I would have liked, while this has this is not even directly related to Kylie's story, but I had to clarify these points because the subject is so delicate, complicated and difficult to understand, it can be misinterpreted and get out of hand very quickly. Moreover I use an automatic translator which makes the comprehension on a subject as delicate as this one even more difficult.
Okay, your main argument is very weak. I'm not sure who "confirmed" any of this to you, but allow me to point out the overbearing flaws.
"Not directly attracted to the age but instead the muscles."
You do realize that NO ONE is attracted to a number? They're attracted to particular characteristics. For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height). The topic is not a difficult one, for if we are to abide by your logic yet again, the following would be acceptable:
"I am attracted to the dick-size and not the fact that he is 12. I am attracted to the face and not the fact that she is 10. I am attracted to the bodyshape, not the fact that she is underage."
Do you see your flawed logic here? That's still pedophilia. You are attracted to certain characteristics on possessed by a minor. To further counter your argument, your logic would suggest that anyone over the age of 18 that inhabits similar features are actually attracted to children. The age here plays a large part in defining a pedophile.
What you're essentially doing is isolating the fetish and separating it into categories so you can better justify it, as opposed to taking the whole picture. A lot of what you say doesn't add up in the long run. Muscle fetish isn't that uncommon.
I never said the majority is everyone either. I'm saying that your fantasy is not shared by the majority and as a society we have proof of that. It is not fair for you to boldly assume that everyone secretly likes children, or that everyone secretly likes certain features regardless if they are on a child or not, because there is, for one, no evidence to support it, and, two, plenty against it.
I find the idea of placing fetishes on children and saying your only attracted to the fetish completely disgusting. It's really only in support of your own fetish, which seems to stem into the underage.
You say there is a limit, of course, and to that I agree yes. The limit is drawn at the age. If you're pleasuring yourself to a minor, regardless if it is a particular feature on that minor, then you are mentally sick. This is a psychological fact. Especially if you're like some members of this forum and only look for underage characters.
To me, this seems like a desperate attempt at trying not to commit yourself. You likely have felt terrible, and rightfully so, about rubbing one out to an underage character.
I highly doubt a professional told you that it is not pedophilia to be attracted to certain features even if they're on a child. I can hazard a guess that a random person online agreed with you, upon which your majority comfort was built.
It doesn't matter how long you have looked into the "psychology" of a topic; in the end, it is not difficult and you are arguing nonsense. Everything you say is based on your feelings via equivocation. There's no point in you even attempting a rebuttal if you're not going to solidify your position first.
Don't care if I came across as aggressive. It is sickening to witness the full extent people will go to defend this. And by meekly tweaking certain controls in the attraction, no less.
No need to mention that you use an automated translator. Seriously, it doesn't matter.
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Okay, your main argument is very weak. I'm not sure who "confirmed" any of this to you, but allow me to point out the overbearing flaws.
"Not directly attracted to the age but instead the muscles."
You do realize that NO ONE is attracted to a number? They're attracted to particular characteristics. For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height). The topic is not a difficult one, for if we are to abide by your logic yet again, the following would be acceptable:
"I am attracted to the dick-size and not the fact that he is 12. I am attracted to the face and not the fact that she is 10. I am attracted to the bodyshape, not the fact that she is underage."
Do you see your flawed logic here? That's still pedophilia. You are attracted to certain characteristics on possessed by a minor. To further counter your argument, your logic would suggest that anyone over the age of 18 that inhabits similar features are actually attracted to children. The age here plays a large part in defining a pedophile.
What you're essentially doing is isolating the fetish and separating it into categories so you can better justify it, as opposed to taking the whole picture. A lot of what you say doesn't add up in the long run. Muscle fetish isn't that uncommon.
I never said the majority is everyone either. I'm saying that your fantasy is not shared by the majority and as a society we have proof of that. It is not fair for you to boldly assume that everyone secretly likes children, or that everyone secretly likes certain features regardless if they are on a child or not, because there is, for one, no evidence to support it, and, two, plenty against it.
I find the idea of placing fetishes on children and saying your only attracted to the fetish completely disgusting. It's really only in support of your own fetish, which seems to stem into the underage.
You say there is a limit, of course, and to that I agree yes. The limit is drawn at the age. If you're pleasuring yourself to a minor, regardless if it is a particular feature on that minor, then you are mentally sick. This is a psychological fact. Especially if you're like some members of this forum and only look for underage characters.
To me, this seems like a desperate attempt at trying not to commit yourself. You likely have felt terrible, and rightfully so, about rubbing one out to an underage character.
I highly doubt a professional told you that it is not pedophilia to be attracted to certain features even if they're on a child. I can hazard a guess that a random person online agreed with you, upon which your majority comfort was built.
It doesn't matter how long you have looked into the "psychology" of a topic; in the end, it is not difficult and you are arguing nonsense. Everything you say is based on your feelings via equivocation. There's no point in you even attempting a rebuttal if you're not going to solidify your position first.
Don't care if I came across as aggressive. It is sickening to witness the full extent people will go to defend this. And by meekly tweaking certain controls in the attraction, no less.
No need to mention that you use an automated translator. Seriously, it doesn't matter.
An automatic translator being not perfect, it can distort our initial words, which does not facilitate the understanding, especially on such a delicate subject, and therefore this can be misinterpreted. Already in normal circumstances, misinterpretations happen quickly, so imagine with an automatic translator. So yes, I think it is important to mention this and to remind it, especially in this kind of debate.
Besides, you only answer to small parts of my arguments without looking at and analyzing my argument as a whole.
What you quote: "Not directly attracted to the age but instead the muscles."
What I wrote: "it is not directly related to the age of the minor girl or anything else related to childhood, but only to the muscles and the muscular power"
And here is what you answer: "You do realize that NO ONE is attracted to a number?"
1. As you can see my argument is not only about the age "or anything else related to childhood", so my argument is not based on the attraction to a number as you imply.
2. Age is not just a number, especially for children who change rapidly from one age to another. Age corresponds to a period of life, and depending on the age it also corresponds to physical, mental and biological characteristics.
3. When I talk about age, I am not talking about a specific age, but more about a rather large age range.
And you go on to say, "For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height)."
All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: "for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood"
Then you compare with incomparable things using straw man arguments:
"I am attracted to the dick-size and not the fact that he is 12. I am attracted to the face and not the fact that she is 10. I am attracted to the bodyshape, not the fact that she is underage."
Here you're talking about specific physical characteristics, so you'll tell me that muscles play a role in the shape of a body as in your example, but :
1 . It corresponds to a global physical appearance of the body which does not correspond at all to an ordinary child's physique.
2. The attraction to muscles, and particularly female muscles, is much broader and more complicated than just physical appearance, although physical aesthetics also plays an important role. There is everything that muscles represent: strength, power, determination, courage, sacrifice, etc. There is everything I said about liking to be impressed by this, the opposition between muscles, femininity or age that are not part of the societal norms, the fact that a young age makes these characteristics more impressive and amplifies this opposition. There is also that it breaks all the fragile aspect that could have an ordinary girl, in appearance, what puts at evil already a part of our moral values on the subject, although it remains all the psychological childish fragility. There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular.
All this shows that it's much more complicated than you think, and that the admiration of muscles is much broader than a simple physical characteristic.
In fact you seem to me to be the kind of guy who sees life only in black and white with no nuances in between. Life is much more nuanced than you think.
"To further counter your argument, your logic would suggest that anyone over the age of 18 that inhabits similar features are actually attracted to children."
You're being a straw man again by reducing my logic to a simple physical characteristic, when no it's not my logic at all, it comes back to exactly what I said in my previous paragraph, it's much broader than a simple physical characteristic. Not to mention that it is a physical characteristic that totally changes the physical appearance of the underage girl so that she looks nothing like any other girl her age, except for her face. I know of no other physical characteristic that so alters the physical appearance and proportions. Possibly obesity, but child obesity is unfortunately not an exceptional characteristic, and those who fantasize about obesity are not looking for the same thing as admirers of female muscles, and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles. Obesity adds no value to a minor compared to an adult who has that same physical characteristic.
I don't see anything really comparable to that, and if you can find something really comparable, chances are it's not pedophilia either.
In fact, what you have to understand is that it is the search for "more and more" in the fantasies of the admirers of female muscles that makes some of them fall into fantasies about underage girls, because all the characteristics that are admired in relation to the muscular strength of adult women are always more impressive on underage girls.
"What you're essentially doing is isolating the fetish and separating it into categories so you can better justify it, as opposed to taking the whole picture."
It took me a while to understand what you meant, I even thought it was a translation error with the automatic translator. But I think I understood, and I think I also understand your way of reasoning, it's clear that nuances are not really your thing, but it's sure that with this kind of reasoning it's going to be difficult to understand each other. So if I understand correctly, you are talking about the fact that I dissociated the fantasy of male muscles from that of female muscles. But in fact you have no idea what an whole picture is. An whole picture is not to reduce a whole to a single element, but rather to see all the nuances and subtleties of the same whole.
We agree that technically male and female muscles are the same thing, muscles are muscles, whether they are worn by men or women. But in our current society, we don't have the same vision of muscles for men as for women. And since the time that I've been fighting to change this vision that I find very unfair and wrong, I can tell you that it's a subject I know well. In short, in our society, a muscular and strong man is the norm, it's even a sign of virility, whereas a muscular and strong woman is out of the norm, even criticized, because muscles are a sign of virility and a woman should not have any, there are a lot of prejudices and preconceived ideas on this level (it's starting to change a little but there is still a long way to go). There are some similarities (effort, health, courage, sacrifice, determination, strength, power, aestheticism, etc., although I find that some of these characteristics are even more admirable for a woman than for a man in our current society), but the fantasy for male muscles will be more mainly oriented towards manly power, the MAN, the beast, the testosterone, etc., whereas for female muscles this fantasy will be more in opposition with the current societal norms, we want to see these women surpassing these norms, surpassing men, being stronger and more muscular than them, being above them.
In short, as long as societal norms remain the same, there is necessarily a major distinction between these two fantasies. Except if we fantasize about both at the same time, there it's different again, there is no more distinction between the two, the societal norms don't apply anymore.
"A lot of what you say doesn't add up in the long run."
Well, let's say that in the long run, I do hope that societal norms will change, so yes, in that case what I'm saying won't be valid in the long run, and I'd be the first to be happy about it. However I'm afraid I'm too old to enjoy it (or maybe even dead already).
"Muscle fetish isn't that uncommon."
From this point of view yes necessarily since many women fantasize about men's muscles, on the other hand men (or women) who fantasize about women's muscles are much less numerous (but more than people in general believe).
"I never said the majority is everyone either. I'm saying that your fantasy is not shared by the majority and as a society we have proof of that. It is not fair for you to boldly assume that everyone secretly likes children, or that everyone secretly likes certain features regardless if they are on a child or not, because there is, for one, no evidence to support it, and, two, plenty against it."
Yes well I had said in my previous comment that I might have exaggerated a bit by saying "majority" but there are many. And it is very often related to the fantasy of the female muscles, generally people have at first the fantasy of the female muscles in relation to the adult women then that deported little by little towards younger girls because this make these same characteristics more impressive. And very often these people are not attracted to ordinary non-muscular minor girls but may very well be attracted to ordinary non-muscular adult women.
"then you are mentally sick. This is a psychological fact."
And so you studied psychology, you have a doctorate in psychology, a degree or something to say that?
Well, it's true that saying it this way "If you're pleasuring yourself to a minor, regardless if it is a particular feature on that minor," is clearly a serious psychological pathology. But it comes mostly from your famous mania of wanting to reduce everything to a single overall element without seeing all the nuances and subtleties. You have to know how to analyze what leads to this fantasy before you can make a psychological diagnosis. I am not a psychologist, but I know that none of them will make this kind of diagnosis without having studied the case a minimum. And even if this diagnosis can be made on the vast majority of cases grouping together what you say because it is pedophilia for this majority, there may be some small specific cases that can come out of this diganostic because life is done nuances and subtleties.
At worst, if it's really a mental illness, it's an illness that can't be cured, if it's like pedophilia or possibly really pedophilia (which I doubt), it can't be cured, so you have to deal with it. The important thing is to be a danger to no one and even less to minors. The majority of pedophiles are above all people who suffer from their sexual deviance and who will never harm a child because they are aware of the dangers and the harm, they have the same moral values as you and me. They are not all Dutroux. Fantasizing about minors is not punishable by law, it is the act and the incitement to questionable practices on minors that is punishable. And when a fantasy is about young girls with such supernatural characteristics that they no longer resemble ordinary girls and that it is impossible for them to exist in reality, I don't see where the danger lies (all the more so if it also concerns characteristics destroying any childish fragility placing these young girls above ordinary adults).
That said, in a way, just the adoration of muscles can be sickly if it becomes something you can't live without.
"this seems like a desperate attempt"
The only thing I despair about is never finding happiness in the beautiful, powerful arms of a adult muscular woman.
"I highly doubt a professional told you that it is not pedophilia to be attracted to certain features even if they're on a child. I can hazard a guess that a random person online agreed with you, upon which your majority comfort was built."
Yes I guess you are a specialist in psychology, you have studied and graduated in psychology, so you are well placed to know that a professional cannot confirm this. Isn't that right?
I didn't go to check if he was a professional, but on a psychology forum the guy had no reason to try to justify anything since it doesn't concern him directly, besides he confirmed what I thought without saying that it was a good thing, quite the contrary. It's possible that he's wrong but it's also possible that he has what you don't have: a true global vision with all the nuances and subtleties of life.
"it is not difficult and you are arguing nonsense."
Well, that's for sure, when one is unable to have a whole picture with all its nuances and subtleties, nothing is difficult. I think I have sufficiently demonstrated that this subject is much more vast and complex than you seem to think. And you your arguments are not absurd, you think, when you make for example your man of straw?
"It is sickening to witness the full extent people will go to defend this."
Except that as I already said in my previous comment, I don't defend it, I can't defend the indefensible, I never said that it's a good thing, on the contrary, it's disgusting to fantasize about underage girls no matter the reason even if it's not related to pedophilia or any mental illness that can be diagnosed in psychatry, my arguments are only intended to make people understand this phenomenon and that it's no use judging people who have this fantasy. Because again, the subject is much larger and more complicated than you think.
But I think that you are too much guided by your feeling of disgust which prevents you from taking a step back on the subject and to analyze objectively my argument in its totality. Provided that you are able to have a true vision of the whole with all its nuances and subtleties.
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Okay, your main argument is very weak. I'm not sure who "confirmed" any of this to you, but allow me to point out the overbearing flaws.
"Not directly attracted to the age but instead the muscles."
You do realize that NO ONE is attracted to a number? They're attracted to particular characteristics. For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height). The topic is not a difficult one, for if we are to abide by your logic yet again, the following would be acceptable:
"I am attracted to the dick-size and not the fact that he is 12. I am attracted to the face and not the fact that she is 10. I am attracted to the bodyshape, not the fact that she is underage."
Do you see your flawed logic here? That's still pedophilia. You are attracted to certain characteristics on possessed by a minor. To further counter your argument, your logic would suggest that anyone over the age of 18 that inhabits similar features are actually attracted to children. The age here plays a large part in defining a pedophile.
What you're essentially doing is isolating the fetish and separating it into categories so you can better justify it, as opposed to taking the whole picture. A lot of what you say doesn't add up in the long run. Muscle fetish isn't that uncommon.
I never said the majority is everyone either. I'm saying that your fantasy is not shared by the majority and as a society we have proof of that. It is not fair for you to boldly assume that everyone secretly likes children, or that everyone secretly likes certain features regardless if they are on a child or not, because there is, for one, no evidence to support it, and, two, plenty against it.
I find the idea of placing fetishes on children and saying your only attracted to the fetish completely disgusting. It's really only in support of your own fetish, which seems to stem into the underage.
You say there is a limit, of course, and to that I agree yes. The limit is drawn at the age. If you're pleasuring yourself to a minor, regardless if it is a particular feature on that minor, then you are mentally sick. This is a psychological fact. Especially if you're like some members of this forum and only look for underage characters.
To me, this seems like a desperate attempt at trying not to commit yourself. You likely have felt terrible, and rightfully so, about rubbing one out to an underage character.
I highly doubt a professional told you that it is not pedophilia to be attracted to certain features even if they're on a child. I can hazard a guess that a random person online agreed with you, upon which your majority comfort was built.
It doesn't matter how long you have looked into the "psychology" of a topic; in the end, it is not difficult and you are arguing nonsense. Everything you say is based on your feelings via equivocation. There's no point in you even attempting a rebuttal if you're not going to solidify your position first.
Don't care if I came across as aggressive. It is sickening to witness the full extent people will go to defend this. And by meekly tweaking certain controls in the attraction, no less.
No need to mention that you use an automated translator. Seriously, it doesn't matter.
An automatic translator being not perfect, it can distort our initial words, which does not facilitate the understanding, especially on such a delicate subject, and therefore this can be misinterpreted. Already in normal circumstances, misinterpretations happen quickly, so imagine with an automatic translator. So yes, I think it is important to mention this and to remind it, especially in this kind of debate.
Besides, you only answer to small parts of my arguments without looking at and analyzing my argument as a whole.
What you quote: "Not directly attracted to the age but instead the muscles."
What I wrote: "it is not directly related to the age of the minor girl or anything else related to childhood, but only to the muscles and the muscular power"
And here is what you answer: "You do realize that NO ONE is attracted to a number?"
1. As you can see my argument is not only about the age "or anything else related to childhood", so my argument is not based on the attraction to a number as you imply.
2. Age is not just a number, especially for children who change rapidly from one age to another. Age corresponds to a period of life, and depending on the age it also corresponds to physical, mental and biological characteristics.
3. When I talk about age, I am not talking about a specific age, but more about a rather large age range.
And you go on to say, "For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height)."
All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: "for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood"
Then you compare with incomparable things using straw man arguments:
"I am attracted to the dick-size and not the fact that he is 12. I am attracted to the face and not the fact that she is 10. I am attracted to the bodyshape, not the fact that she is underage."
Here you're talking about specific physical characteristics, so you'll tell me that muscles play a role in the shape of a body as in your example, but :
1 . It corresponds to a global physical appearance of the body which does not correspond at all to an ordinary child's physique.
2. The attraction to muscles, and particularly female muscles, is much broader and more complicated than just physical appearance, although physical aesthetics also plays an important role. There is everything that muscles represent: strength, power, determination, courage, sacrifice, etc. There is everything I said about liking to be impressed by this, the opposition between muscles, femininity or age that are not part of the societal norms, the fact that a young age makes these characteristics more impressive and amplifies this opposition. There is also that it breaks all the fragile aspect that could have an ordinary girl, in appearance, what puts at evil already a part of our moral values on the subject, although it remains all the psychological childish fragility. There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular.
All this shows that it's much more complicated than you think, and that the admiration of muscles is much broader than a simple physical characteristic.
In fact you seem to me to be the kind of guy who sees life only in black and white with no nuances in between. Life is much more nuanced than you think.
"To further counter your argument, your logic would suggest that anyone over the age of 18 that inhabits similar features are actually attracted to children."
You're being a straw man again by reducing my logic to a simple physical characteristic, when no it's not my logic at all, it comes back to exactly what I said in my previous paragraph, it's much broader than a simple physical characteristic. Not to mention that it is a physical characteristic that totally changes the physical appearance of the underage girl so that she looks nothing like any other girl her age, except for her face. I know of no other physical characteristic that so alters the physical appearance and proportions. Possibly obesity, but child obesity is unfortunately not an exceptional characteristic, and those who fantasize about obesity are not looking for the same thing as admirers of female muscles, and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles. Obesity adds no value to a minor compared to an adult who has that same physical characteristic.
I don't see anything really comparable to that, and if you can find something really comparable, chances are it's not pedophilia either.
In fact, what you have to understand is that it is the search for "more and more" in the fantasies of the admirers of female muscles that makes some of them fall into fantasies about underage girls, because all the characteristics that are admired in relation to the muscular strength of adult women are always more impressive on underage girls.
"What you're essentially doing is isolating the fetish and separating it into categories so you can better justify it, as opposed to taking the whole picture."
It took me a while to understand what you meant, I even thought it was a translation error with the automatic translator. But I think I understood, and I think I also understand your way of reasoning, it's clear that nuances are not really your thing, but it's sure that with this kind of reasoning it's going to be difficult to understand each other. So if I understand correctly, you are talking about the fact that I dissociated the fantasy of male muscles from that of female muscles. But in fact you have no idea what an whole picture is. An whole picture is not to reduce a whole to a single element, but rather to see all the nuances and subtleties of the same whole.
We agree that technically male and female muscles are the same thing, muscles are muscles, whether they are worn by men or women. But in our current society, we don't have the same vision of muscles for men as for women. And since the time that I've been fighting to change this vision that I find very unfair and wrong, I can tell you that it's a subject I know well. In short, in our society, a muscular and strong man is the norm, it's even a sign of virility, whereas a muscular and strong woman is out of the norm, even criticized, because muscles are a sign of virility and a woman should not have any, there are a lot of prejudices and preconceived ideas on this level (it's starting to change a little but there is still a long way to go). There are some similarities (effort, health, courage, sacrifice, determination, strength, power, aestheticism, etc., although I find that some of these characteristics are even more admirable for a woman than for a man in our current society), but the fantasy for male muscles will be more mainly oriented towards manly power, the MAN, the beast, the testosterone, etc., whereas for female muscles this fantasy will be more in opposition with the current societal norms, we want to see these women surpassing these norms, surpassing men, being stronger and more muscular than them, being above them.
In short, as long as societal norms remain the same, there is necessarily a major distinction between these two fantasies. Except if we fantasize about both at the same time, there it's different again, there is no more distinction between the two, the societal norms don't apply anymore.
"A lot of what you say doesn't add up in the long run."
Well, let's say that in the long run, I do hope that societal norms will change, so yes, in that case what I'm saying won't be valid in the long run, and I'd be the first to be happy about it. However I'm afraid I'm too old to enjoy it (or maybe even dead already).
"Muscle fetish isn't that uncommon."
From this point of view yes necessarily since many women fantasize about men's muscles, on the other hand men (or women) who fantasize about women's muscles are much less numerous (but more than people in general believe).
"I never said the majority is everyone either. I'm saying that your fantasy is not shared by the majority and as a society we have proof of that. It is not fair for you to boldly assume that everyone secretly likes children, or that everyone secretly likes certain features regardless if they are on a child or not, because there is, for one, no evidence to support it, and, two, plenty against it."
Yes well I had said in my previous comment that I might have exaggerated a bit by saying "majority" but there are many. And it is very often related to the fantasy of the female muscles, generally people have at first the fantasy of the female muscles in relation to the adult women then that deported little by little towards younger girls because this make these same characteristics more impressive. And very often these people are not attracted to ordinary non-muscular minor girls but may very well be attracted to ordinary non-muscular adult women.
"then you are mentally sick. This is a psychological fact."
And so you studied psychology, you have a doctorate in psychology, a degree or something to say that?
Well, it's true that saying it this way "If you're pleasuring yourself to a minor, regardless if it is a particular feature on that minor," is clearly a serious psychological pathology. But it comes mostly from your famous mania of wanting to reduce everything to a single overall element without seeing all the nuances and subtleties. You have to know how to analyze what leads to this fantasy before you can make a psychological diagnosis. I am not a psychologist, but I know that none of them will make this kind of diagnosis without having studied the case a minimum. And even if this diagnosis can be made on the vast majority of cases grouping together what you say because it is pedophilia for this majority, there may be some small specific cases that can come out of this diganostic because life is done nuances and subtleties.
At worst, if it's really a mental illness, it's an illness that can't be cured, if it's like pedophilia or possibly really pedophilia (which I doubt), it can't be cured, so you have to deal with it. The important thing is to be a danger to no one and even less to minors. The majority of pedophiles are above all people who suffer from their sexual deviance and who will never harm a child because they are aware of the dangers and the harm, they have the same moral values as you and me. They are not all Dutroux. Fantasizing about minors is not punishable by law, it is the act and the incitement to questionable practices on minors that is punishable. And when a fantasy is about young girls with such supernatural characteristics that they no longer resemble ordinary girls and that it is impossible for them to exist in reality, I don't see where the danger lies (all the more so if it also concerns characteristics destroying any childish fragility placing these young girls above ordinary adults).
That said, in a way, just the adoration of muscles can be sickly if it becomes something you can't live without.
"this seems like a desperate attempt"
The only thing I despair about is never finding happiness in the beautiful, powerful arms of a adult muscular woman.
"I highly doubt a professional told you that it is not pedophilia to be attracted to certain features even if they're on a child. I can hazard a guess that a random person online agreed with you, upon which your majority comfort was built."
Yes I guess you are a specialist in psychology, you have studied and graduated in psychology, so you are well placed to know that a professional cannot confirm this. Isn't that right?
I didn't go to check if he was a professional, but on a psychology forum the guy had no reason to try to justify anything since it doesn't concern him directly, besides he confirmed what I thought without saying that it was a good thing, quite the contrary. It's possible that he's wrong but it's also possible that he has what you don't have: a true global vision with all the nuances and subtleties of life.
"it is not difficult and you are arguing nonsense."
Well, that's for sure, when one is unable to have a whole picture with all its nuances and subtleties, nothing is difficult. I think I have sufficiently demonstrated that this subject is much more vast and complex than you seem to think. And you your arguments are not absurd, you think, when you make for example your man of straw?
"It is sickening to witness the full extent people will go to defend this."
Except that as I already said in my previous comment, I don't defend it, I can't defend the indefensible, I never said that it's a good thing, on the contrary, it's disgusting to fantasize about underage girls no matter the reason even if it's not related to pedophilia or any mental illness that can be diagnosed in psychatry, my arguments are only intended to make people understand this phenomenon and that it's no use judging people who have this fantasy. Because again, the subject is much larger and more complicated than you think.
But I think that you are too much guided by your feeling of disgust which prevents you from taking a step back on the subject and to analyze objectively my argument in its totality. Provided that you are able to have a true vision of the whole with all its nuances and subtleties.
Oh, this should be good.
"An automatic translator being not perfect, it can distort our initial words..."
The message is clear enough. That's why it doesn't matter. If it messes up your words, then it's not my problem if I misinterpret your message(s).
"Besides, you only answer to my small parts of my arguments without looking at and analysing my argument as a whole."
It is entirely difficult to take on an argument that is, at large, faulty in itself. You mention nuances, but they do very little to correct initial presumptions you have about the female muscle attraction. For one, you presume there are "many people" that are attracted to the muscles on children as opposed to the child his/herself, yet you have neither defined nor represented "many people" in any way, shape or form. You merely stated a claim on which there was no basis. To define "many people", you would have to conduct a survey to support your hypothesis that would better explain your position, otherwise it becomes a blind statement with little ground.
My idea of using a "strawman" (this isn't a strawman) was to narrow your logic down to something that must be applicable given your initial statements. It is not a "misrepresentation" merely because it doesn't take into account the nuances you've included, but instead it takes your presumptions and arguments and puts them into a field of logic which must be true in order for your overall claim to be successful. And it isn't. This is not a strawman. A strawman would be a misrepresentation of your initial idea(s) intentionally set up to distort your answer. So, I guess you could say your "nuance" wasn't correct here.
"And here is what you answer: 'You do realize that NO ONE is attracted to a number?'
1. As you can see my argument is not only about the age "or anything else related to childhood", so my argument is not based on the attraction to a number as you imply.
2. Age is not just a number, especially for children who change rapidly from one age to another. Age corresponds to a period of life, and depending on the age it also corresponds to physical, mental and biological characteristics.
3. When I talk about age, I am not talking about a specific age, but more about a rather large age range."
The key term here is "not only about". That wasn't the claim I was suggesting or making. I pointed out an area in which your logic was distorted. You claimed that pedophiles are attracted to the age or anything else related to childhood. Here, what you define as "anything related to childhood" is not clear. You can argue that most of what we see in adulthood is also related to childhood, so therefore that statement becomes an immediate cross-out, as it is not defined nor represented by any argumentative means. You can't supply your own conditions in a statement without first clarifying what they represent and how they fit into an argument. This is another example of a blind statement.
"All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: 'for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood."
"For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height"
What I stated and what you stated are not the same. This is a strawman, because it is a misrepresentation of the words I have conveyed.
I never mentioned "anything related to childhood." You did. And you didn't define it. Saying "childlike proportions" goes back to my earlier statement that that would mean anyone attracted to a grown adult with the bodyshape of a child is actually attracted to children, which is not the case. This is why the age plays a large number in defining a pedophile. It also means that the child can possess ANY bodyshape, and regardless of whether the pedophile is mostly attracted to the muscles (a rare example), it still makes him/her attracted to a child. This part is, funnily enough, dealing with your precious nuances, even though it wasn't necessary in disproving this claim.
"I am attracted to the dick-size and not the fact that he is 12. I am attracted to the face and not the fact that she is 10. I am attracted to the bodyshape, not the fact that she is underage."
Here you're talking about specific physical characteristics, so you'll tell me that muscles play a role in the shape of a body as in your example, but :
1 . It corresponds to a global physical appearance of the body which does not correspond at all to an ordinary child's physique.
2. The attraction to muscles, and particularly female muscles, is much broader and more complicated than just physical appearance, although physical aesthetics also plays an important role. There is everything that muscles represent: strength, power, determination, courage, sacrifice, etc. There is everything I said about liking to be impressed by this, the opposition between muscles, femininity or age that are not part of the societal norms, the fact that a young age makes these characteristics more impressive and amplifies this opposition. There is also that it breaks all the fragile aspect that could have an ordinary girl, in appearance, what puts at evil already a part of our moral values on the subject, although it remains all the psychological childish fragility. There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular.
"1 . It corresponds to a global physical appearance of the body which does not correspond at all to an ordinary child's physique."
I assume by this you mean "muscles". Because in my statement I never mentioned any specific characteristics. I did mention very common examples.
"so you'll tell me that muscles play a role in the shape of a body as in your example, but :"
This line doesn't make sense to me.
"2. The attraction to muscles, and particularly female muscles, is much broader and more complicated than just physical appearance, although physical aesthetics also plays an important role. There is everything that muscles represent: strength, power, determination, courage, sacrifice, etc. There is everything I said about liking to be impressed by this, the opposition between muscles, femininity or age that are not part of the societal norms, the fact that a young age makes these characteristics more impressive and amplifies this opposition. There is also that it breaks all the fragile aspect that could have an ordinary girl, in appearance, what puts at evil already a part of our moral values on the subject, although it remains all the psychological childish fragility. There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular."
Again, on what are you basing this massive claim?
This entire segment also does nothing to support your initial proposition. It only defines female muscle fetish in broad terms. I never said female muscle fetish was merely the attraction to muscles; I said the attraction to muscles on a child is still pedophilia.
"the fact that a young age makes these characteristics more impressive and amplifies this opposition." Another blind statement. You even say this is a fact. However, the last time I checked, muscles on a child wasn't attractive.
"There is also that it breaks all the fragile aspect that could have an ordinary girl, in appearance, what puts at evil already a part of our moral values on the subject, although it remains all the psychological childish fragility. There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular."
This is an attempt at blending common muscle fetish ideals with your initial claim of attraction to muscles on a child. It still does not support anything; all you did here was suggest that people are attracted to "the superiority of underage girls", not only muscle, which again goes back to my initial claim that it is still pedophilia. You are attracted to a characteristic and/or personal asset possessed by a child, therefore it is pedophilia. This is the statement that you're not quite grasping.
"All this shows that it's much more complicated than you think, and that the admiration of muscles is much broader than a simple physical characteristic.."
Except it doesn't show any complications at all. All you have done is define useless non-sequiturs in your argument. This idea that you believe they change the way you represent your claim is at large faulty and evident. If you want something to debate with, I recommend not going for an argument from authority either, which suggests that because someone does not have the proper credentials, then therefore they do not have a right to speak on a concept, especially when I've already shown that it is not as complex as you make it out to be. It doesn't take a professional to diagnose pedophilia.
"In fact you seem to me to be the kind of guy who sees life only in black and white with no nuances in between. Life is much more nuanced than you think."
Except I've read your entire message clearly and debated your points off of your initial arguments. I debate people for a living. I know how nuances play into arguments; in this case, you have only made blind statements that hold little ground even when you attempt to push non-sequiturs into them.
"You're being a straw man again by reducing my logic to a simple physical characteristic, when no it's not my logic at all, it comes back to exactly what I said in my previous paragraph, it's much broader than a simple physical characteristic. Not to mention that it is a physical characteristic that totally changes the physical appearance of the underage girl so that she looks nothing like any other girl her age, except for her face. I know of no other physical characteristic that so alters the physical appearance and proportions. Possibly obesity, but child obesity is unfortunately not an exceptional characteristic, and those who fantasize about obesity are not looking for the same thing as admirers of female muscles, and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles. Obesity adds no value to a minor compared to an adult who has that same physical characteristic."
Again, this is where you're lost on the concept of a strawman. A strawman is an "intentional misrepresentation" of your claim. In this case, I have given you a statement that must be true in order for your argument to make sense. This was done as an example to show that your overall claim was faulty and didn't consider large proportions of what it was trying to represent.
"I don't see anything really comparable to that, and if you can find something really comparable, chances are it's not pedophilia either."
So because it's not comparable, then the logic changes? This statement would have to assume so many factors. For one, all of what you said in your initial argument would have to be true, which it isn't. "Obesity adds no value to a minor compared to an adult who has that same physical characteristic." This is a backwards statement that's actually incorrect; some pedophiles are interested in overweight children. You can find articles about such cases across the web. Either way, it's a backwards statement because that would assume that "muscle" would only add value to a child because the adult was attracted to it. Again, this is pedophilia. That is the point you are missing.
"In fact, what you have to understand is that it is the search for "more and more" in the fantasies of the admirers of female muscles that makes some of them fall into fantasies about underage girls, because all the characteristics that are admired in relation to the muscular strength of adult women are always more impressive on underage girls."
Would you look at that? Yet another blind statement!
Please provide me the evidence for this claim. This evidence should include: a survey of the muscle fetish community, answers supporting the propositions of "all the characteristics that are admired in relation to the muscular strength of adult women are always more impressive on underage girls" and "the search for 'more and more' in the fantasies of the admirers of female muscles that makes some of them fall into fantasies about underage girls", and a reason as to why this represents your thoughts.
"It took me a while to understand what you meant, I even thought it was a translation error with the automatic translator. But I think I understood, and I think I also understand your way of reasoning, it's clear that nuances are not really your thing, but it's sure that with this kind of reasoning it's going to be difficult to understand each other. So if I understand correctly, you are talking about the fact that I dissociated the fantasy of male muscles from that of female muscles. But in fact you have no idea what an whole picture is. An whole picture is not to reduce a whole to a single element, but rather to see all the nuances and subtleties of the same whole.
We agree that technically male and female muscles are the same thing, muscles are muscles, whether they are worn by men or women. But in our current society, we don't have the same vision of muscles for men as for women. And since the time that I've been fighting to change this vision that I find very unfair and wrong, I can tell you that it's a subject I know well. In short, in our society, a muscular and strong man is the norm, it's even a sign of virility, whereas a muscular and strong woman is out of the norm, even criticized, because muscles are a sign of virility and a woman should not have any, there are a lot of prejudices and preconceived ideas on this level (it's starting to change a little but there is still a long way to go). There are some similarities (effort, health, courage, sacrifice, determination, strength, power, aestheticism, etc., although I find that some of these characteristics are even more admirable for a woman than for a man in our current society), but the fantasy for male muscles will be more mainly oriented towards manly power, the MAN, the beast, the testosterone, etc., whereas for female muscles this fantasy will be more in opposition with the current societal norms, we want to see these women surpassing these norms, surpassing men, being stronger and more muscular than them, being above them.
In short, as long as societal norms remain the same, there is necessarily a major distinction between these two fantasies. Except if we fantasize about both at the same time, there it's different again, there is no more distinction between the two, the societal norms don't apply anymore."
I'm glad you see my way of reasoning. We're getting somewhere. Slowly but surely you will realise I am right.
(You have more blind statements in that paragraph by the way. I'm not going through all of them)
"Yes well I had said in my previous comment that I might have exaggerated a bit by saying "majority" but there are many. And it is very often related to the fantasy of the female muscles, generally people have at first the fantasy of the female muscles in relation to the adult women then that deported little by little towards younger girls because this make these same characteristics more impressive. And very often these people are not attracted to ordinary non-muscular minor girls but may very well be attracted to ordinary non-muscular adult women."
Define "many". You already stated that the amount of people interested in female muscle fetish is less numerous, so it should be very interesting indeed to find out the exact number you're talking about, or a rough count. More blind statements by the way.
"And so you studied psychology, you have a doctorate in psychology, a degree or something to say that?
Well, it's true that saying it this way "If you're pleasuring yourself to a minor, regardless if it is a particular feature on that minor," is clearly a serious psychological pathology. But it comes mostly from your famous mania of wanting to reduce everything to a single overall element without seeing all the nuances and subtleties. You have to know how to analyze what leads to this fantasy before you can make a psychological diagnosis. I am not a psychologist, but I know that none of them will make this kind of diagnosis without having studied the case a minimum. And even if this diagnosis can be made on the vast majority of cases grouping together what you say because it is pedophilia for this majority, there may be some small specific cases that can come out of this diganostic because life is done nuances and subtleties."
This is an argument from authority. It is not acceptable in this case because pedophilia is easy to identify. Pedophilia is a mental illness (pedophilic disorder). Therefore my claim is correct, regardless if I have a PhD or not. I strongly recommend you steer away from this sort of arguing; it doesn't even own the necessary components to be considered a debate tactic.
"At worst, if it's really a mental illness, it's an illness that can't be cured, if it's like pedophilia or possibly really pedophilia (which I doubt), it can't be cured, so you have to deal with it. "
What? As a society, we have to deal with pedophilia? Of course it exists. What the hell is this argument? At this point, I think you're grasping at straws, perhaps inflating the word count to seem more sophisticated. Whatever works for you.
"Yes I guess you are a specialist in psychology, you have studied and graduated in psychology, so you are well placed to know that a professional cannot confirm this. Isn't that right?
I didn't go to check if he was a professional, but on a psychology forum the guy had no reason to try to justify anything since it doesn't concern him directly, besides he confirmed what I thought without saying that it was a good thing, quite the contrary. It's possible that he's wrong but it's also possible that he has what you don't have: a true global vision with all the nuances and subtleties of life."
Again, another argument from authority.
This entire paragraph just confirms that your claim featuring this person is not reliable and is not actually an argument. You merely featured it as a means of majority comfort, just as I had expected.
"Well, that's for sure, when one is unable to have a whole picture with all its nuances and subtleties, nothing is difficult. I think I have sufficiently demonstrated that this subject is much more vast and complex than you seem to think. And you your arguments are not absurd, you think, when you make for example your man of straw?"
This actually made me chuckle. I have included the whole picture; however, you attempted to isolate your argument in subtle categories with the hope of differentiating from pedophilia, but you failed miserably in this attempt. You added blind statements upon which no prior investigation taken place or been represented; you drew shabby conclusions and actually misrepresented what I said; you banked on arguments from authority; and, overall, your claim isn't strong.
"Except that as I already said in my previous comment, I don't defend it, I can't defend the indefensible, I never said that it's a good thing, on the contrary, it's disgusting to fantasize about underage girls no matter the reason even if it's not related to pedophilia or any mental illness that can be diagnosed in psychatry, my arguments are only intended to make people understand this phenomenon and that it's no use judging people who have this fantasy. Because again, the subject is much larger and more complicated than you think."
Again, it isn't complicated. You just don't know how to analyse ideas concisely. This is an internal issue that you have with yourself, and it has nothing to so with me.
"But I think that you are too much guided by your feeling of disgust which prevents you from taking a step back on the subject and to analyze objectively my argument in its totality. Provided that you are able to have a true vision of the whole with all its nuances and subtleties."
It's honestly cute to see know that I am correct and that you can't see past your deluded "debate tactics", and I use that phrase loosely.
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"I'm glad you see my way of reasoning. We're getting somewhere. Slowly but surely you will realize I am right."
This sentence says it all, you are convinced you are right, so no matter what is said you will only try to prove you are right by dismantling the other's argument and not to objectively analyze the other's arguments in order to have a holy debate. Just the way you start each of your comments announces the color "Yeah", "Okay", "Oh, this should be good", you are not here to have a healthy debate but to bash everything I say. Moreover, you say that you earn your living by debating, which gives you a definite advantage over me, not to mention the language (you speak in your mother tongue, which is a language I don't master and which forces me to use an imperfect automatic translator). It is obvious that you have a skill that I do not have in this kind of exercise.
Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living. But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's.
And no I don't realize that you are necessarily right, except that unlike you I don't pretend to be right, so I never pretended that you are necessarily wrong, I only share my imperfect point of view but not necessarily wrong.
Yes, my arguments are imperfect and easily dismantled for someone like you who has a certain skill in debates, because they are not based on concrete facts but on my experience and my personal experience from talking to other female muscle fans and surfing on sites related to female muscles, social networks, forums and others on the internet for more than 20 years, I can't prove what I say but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm wrong It's not because a statement is not provable that it is necessarily wrong, but it can come from a coherent thought.
After that, you only have to look at the themes in the various fictions and other arts related to female muscles, or discuss with other female muscle admirers to understand the general drivers. No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans.
It doesn't matter what "many" means exactly, what matters is that in my experience I have found a number of them which I cannot estimate.
You ask me for facts, but you don't give any yourself in any of your arguments, you just dismantle mine without providing anything. You claim that it is necessarily pedophilia without giving any proof. Afterwards, maybe it's only a problem of definition of the term that diverges, and according to the definition it could be considered as pedophilia, and it's true that given your mania to simplify everything to the maximum without making distinctions between the divergences, the nuances and the subtleties, I understand that according to your definition it's pedophilia. And in a way you are right, it is true that in the broad sense of the term it is a particular form of pedophilia. But from a medical point of view is it really pedophilia? Prove to me that this is really pathological. Is it really a pathology or just an isolated, if uncomfortable, fantasy? And also prove to me that this is dangerous. Because the importance is there, to know if it presents well a real danger for others (especially for young children). This possible danger I talk about every time but you never tried to answer me about it. You know how to dismantle well selected pieces of arguments, but to talk about what is really important, there is no one left.
I'm not going to go on and on about the arguments you're having fun dismantling, there's a lot to say but I've wasted enough time in this debate without any outcome.
Just a few details like "or anything else related to childhood", if you think about it, it's easy to determine that I'm talking about things that directly affect children and not about adults with characteristics that reflect children, but your goal is only to find the smallest flaw in my argument to dismantle it with a flawless bad faith (I'm starting to rhyme now lol)
"All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: 'for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood."
"For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height"
What I stated and what you stated are not the same. This is a strawman, because it is a misrepresentation of the words I have conveyed.
This is big making fun like I've never seen. I'm distorting your words with a sentence I said in a comment before yours. How's it going? Do you imagine that I'm friends with Doc Brown and that I borrowed his DeLorean to go see the future in order to distort your words in the past?
I didn't distort anything, you just said exactly the same thing I said before, you used different words but the meaning is exactly the same, so I thanked you for confirming what I said before.
"So because it's not comparable, then the logic changes?" Well yes of course, that changes everything, your thinking is totally stupid, you can't compare the incomparable.
This statement would have to assume so many factors. For one, all of what you said in your initial argument would have to be true, which it isn't. "Obesity adds no value to a minor compared to an adult who has that same physical characteristic." This is a backwards statement that's actually incorrect; some pedophiles are interested in overweight children. You can find articles about such cases across the web. Either way, it's a backwards statement because that would assume that "muscle" would only add value to a child because the adult was attracted to it. Again, this is pedophilia. That is the point you are missing.
What was it I said just before the sentence you quote here? "and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles." Ah yes, that's what I thought, thanks for confirming once again what I said before.
Otherwise, muscles give value to children over adults because children are supposed to be weak and fragile compared to adults and it is much harder for them to develop muscle and strength.
In fact, what you have to understand is that it is the search for "more and more" in the fantasies of the admirers of female muscles that makes some of them fall into fantasies about underage girls, because all the characteristics that are admired in relation to the muscular strength of adult women are always more impressive on underage girls."
Would you look at that? Yet another blind statement!
Please provide me the evidence for this claim. This evidence should include: a survey of the muscle fetish community, answers supporting the propositions of "all the characteristics that are admired in relation to the muscular strength of adult women are always more impressive on underage girls" and "the search for 'more and more' in the fantasies of the admirers of female muscles that makes some of them fall into fantasies about underage girls", and a reason as to why this represents your thoughts.
Are you a real admirer of female muscles or are you a troll? When you do this kind of thinking, it really makes one wonder.
It's one of those things where you just have to look at the themes in the FMG stories or art. Or just talk to other female muscle fans. So admittedly I don't have any surveys to offer, but I don't think many fans will contradict these facts about "more and more" (more and more muscles, bigger and bigger, more and more power, more and more impressive, etc.). From there it is only a step to go to the side of the underage girls for whom these characteristics are even more impressive.
Is it so difficult to imagine that this is possible? Not necessarily true, but possible? What would be so incredible that some people could fall into the fantasy of young female muscles through female muscles by following the path of always more? I'm not asking you to take my word for it, but to consider this probability before making your judgment.
After all, I never claimed that all cases of fantasies about young female muscles have this same path, it can have other paths too, and some cases can be really phatological pedophilia if the basis of their fantasy really comes from childish characteristics and not only from female muscles, but in this kind of case, it can also have an attraction on ordinary underage non-muscular girls. In short, what I'm saying is that it's not necessarily pathological pedophilia.
[At worst, if it's really a mental illness, it's an illness that can't be cured, if it's like pedophilia or possibly really pedophilia (which I doubt), it can't be cured, so you have to deal with it. "
What? As a society, we have to deal with pedophilia? Of course it exists. What the hell is this argument? At this point, I think you're grasping at straws, perhaps inflating the word count to seem more sophisticated. Whatever works for you.
Did I say that pedophilia doesn't exist? And I'm not saying that nothing should be done, but that we should deal with it, which are two different things. And I'm talking about a specific case, which has been the subject of our debate since the beginning, which is the fantasy about young female muscles. Namely, if in the worst case, if it is really a disease or even pedophilia as you claim, is it really dangerous? If it's not dangerous, how serious is it?
And I'm sorry but I find you really presumptuous to claim that you can make a diagnosis like that or that a professional could never confirm this kind of thing without being a psychologist yourself or having studied this. And to want to defend it with your story of arguments of authority, is even more presumptuous.
Your opinion is not better than mine or that of the guy who answered me on this subject (and if I had talked about this guy, well I admit I wanted to round off the angles by being evasive to give it a little more weight, but it's mainly to say that a person outside of this can confirm it, a person who is moreover accustomed to the subjects of psychologies, being a regular member of a psychology forum, it's worth what it's worth, it's not a very viable argument, but it gives a little extra to my point of view).
Anyway, I'm not necessarily trying to give hyper viable arguments that can't be contradicted, I'm only trying to give my point of view and my small personal analysis, probably imperfect, on the subject in order to better understand what can lead to this kind of fantasy and not to judge hastily.
However, there is something that bothers me since the beginning: If you are so repulsed by it, what are you doing on this topic?
Considering the story and its length, one can ask oneself the question, or it's a troll, or it's a feeling that you repress (which could explain this arrogant and pretentious aggressiveness in your comments), or else you have to explain me because I don't understand.
-
"This sentence says it all, you are convinced you are right, so no matter what is said you will only try to prove you are right by dismantling the other's argument and not to objectively analyze the other's arguments in order to have a holy debate. Just the way you start each of your comments announces the color "Yeah", "Okay", "Oh, this should be good", you are not here to have a healthy debate but to bash everything I say. Moreover, you say that you earn your living by debating, which gives you a definite advantage over me, not to mention the language (you speak in your mother tongue, which is a language I don't master and which forces me to use an imperfect automatic translator). It is obvious that you have a skill that I do not have in this kind of exercise.
Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living. But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's.
And no I don't realize that you are necessarily right, except that unlike you I don't pretend to be right, so I never pretended that you are necessarily wrong, I only share my imperfect point of view but not necessarily wrong."
Actually, this debate is more about proving YOU wrong, and in the process showing you that it is indeed pedophilia. I have objectively analyzed your argument; that's the reason I'm responding to you. This is not a debate; this is one person systematically disproving another person's points because they don't make any sense. One side (me) is objective, the other side (you) is visceral and subjective. Objectivity isn't influenced by personal opinions but instead deals with facts. Subjectivity deals with personal experiences and opinionated logic (which you have been doing since the very start). So, technically, you are not debating anything because you're too focused on what you personally believe without providing evidence for your answers.
I add in comments like "Oh, this should be good" because I am well-accustomed to people that think they are correct. (You in this case).
Yes, I have an advantage over you. There is no doubt, anyone reading this discussion can tell that you've been dismantled on every point you've made. That is part of the art of debating.
"Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living."
I have given you my point of view: an attraction to muscles on a child is a form of pedophilia (that is and always will be my opening argument). Then, I disproved your view, because your side is overly subjective and doesn't deal with facts at all. You say I haven't given any facts. Have you even read my comments? I told you that pedophilia is the attraction to children (Fact) One constitutes a child is their age. The attraction to the bodyshape of a child is still pedophilia because they are underage (Fact). A quick google search will support these claims, or alternatively, contacting the psychologists that write the articles about pedophilia that also support my answers. It just takes a bit of effort from your side.
I have also given data that supports my point of view: the posts about people wanting stories with sexualized children taken down, evidence of actual stories being taken down, and a definition for pedophilia which cannot be altered. Pedophilia is very easy to identify: an adult that is attracted to a child. It is not a complex disorder that requires a professional to diagnose. And, do you really believe most pedophiles would even share this with a licensed professional? No. It is up to the community to identify them and have them prosecuted. So, yes, anyone can identify an adult that is attracted to a child. Saying they can't is just an attempt at trying to argue from an authoritative perspective, where you try shut down anything that doesn't focus on professionalism. Funnily enough, you do the same thing here, where you focus on a subjective experience and use that as a basis to represent both the community, and deem your points "facts". You have given subjective, blind statements multiple times and called them facts. Of course I'm not going to let you get away with that.
"But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's."
Again, then you're providing a subjective argument, and not a very good one. Here is where you contradict yourself on the topic of objectivity.
Yes, my arguments are imperfect and easily dismantled for someone like you who has a certain skill in debates, because they are not based on concrete facts but on my experience and my personal experience from talking to other female muscle fans and surfing on sites related to female muscles, social networks, forums and others on the internet for more than 20 years, I can't prove what I say but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm wrong It's not because a statement is not provable that it is necessarily wrong, but it can come from a coherent thought.
After that, you only have to look at the themes in the various fictions and other arts related to female muscles, or discuss with other female muscle admirers to understand the general drivers. No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans.
"Imperfect" is a very loose term. Your arguments are wrong objectively. You can't get upset at me for debating via a factual, objective basis. You have given "subjective" evidence, which could easily be made up. This is why it isn't a debate. This is you attempting to argue against objectivity.
" No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans."
I think this is where your lack of understanding comes in. I have already stated that I am aware of the complex fetish of muscle. I have not debated otherwise. I have debated from the very start that the attraction to muscles on a child is pedophilia. You went ahead and said, "Well, no, it's much more complex than that." You gave your reasons. I dismantled your reasons, and now you want to cry and tell me I'm basically being unfair because I'm not looking at things from your perspective. I have no idea who you are, there is no reason for me to assume all of your subjective reasons are valid, because in the grand scheme of things, they're not. They are entirely subjective and blind. Again, this is why this isn't a debate. You seem to have this idea that I'm supposed to let your inconsistencies slide and then develop an answer catering to those inconsistencies. This just shows how arrogant you really are; the world doesn't revolve around your perspective, and the hypocrisy of you to say that I'm not being objective is laughable. You are looking for a subjective discussion, not an objective one. Learn the difference.
"It doesn't matter what "many" means exactly, what matters is that in my experience I have found a number of them which I cannot estimate."
In an objective debate, yes it does. If I were to say that many people in this world are pedophiles, I would need evidence to support that. Merely going around and looking at forums is not evidence. That's ridiculous, and it's exactly what you've done. "In my experience" (Another subjective argument).
"You ask me for facts, but you don't give any yourself in any of your arguments, you just dismantle mine without providing anything. You claim that it is necessarily pedophilia without giving any proof. Afterwards, maybe it's only a problem of definition of the term that diverges, and according to the definition it could be considered as pedophilia, and it's true that given your mania to simplify everything to the maximum without making distinctions between the divergences, the nuances and the subtleties, I understand that according to your definition it's pedophilia. And in a way you are right, it is true that in the broad sense of the term it is a particular form of pedophilia. But from a medical point of view is it really pedophilia? Prove to me that this is really pathological. Is it really a pathology or just an isolated, if uncomfortable, fantasy? And also prove to me that this is dangerous. Because the importance is there, to know if it presents well a real danger for others (especially for young children). This possible danger I talk about every time but you never tried to answer me about it. You know how to dismantle well selected pieces of arguments, but to talk about what is really important, there is no one left."
I asked you to support your claims with evidence as opposed to making blind statements based on nothing but pure subjectivity (as it turns out). I did give you facts multiple times. But most of my comment was there to dismantle your side. This is because this sort of discussion is a juxtaposed, black-and-white argument. One side makes a large claim, the other disproves it. It's not an open-to-interpretation discussion because there is a right side and a wrong side. The sort of debate you're thinking of deals with multiple view points and visceral propositions (subjectivity). In this case, you are incorrect.
"I'm not going to go on and on about the arguments you're having fun dismantling, there's a lot to say but I've wasted enough time in this debate without any outcome."
This isn't a debate. Debates need logical consistency and factual accuracy. There are cases where you can report on emotions, of course, but here you are trying to pass your view off as fact. You have even added instances of "In fact", "the fact that". You have opened up an objective argument and used subjectivity to support it.
"Just a few details like "or anything else related to childhood", if you think about it, it's easy to determine that I'm talking about things that directly affect children and not about adults with characteristics that reflect children, but your goal is only to find the smallest flaw in my argument to dismantle it with a flawless bad faith (I'm starting to rhyme now lol)"
On the contrary, it's not that easy. What directly affects children?
"This is big making fun like I've never seen. I'm distorting your words with a sentence I said in a comment before yours. How's it going? Do you imagine that I'm friends with Doc Brown and that I borrowed his DeLorean to go see the future in order to distort your words in the past?"
I didn't distort anything, you just said exactly the same thing I said before, you used different words but the meaning is exactly the same, so I thanked you for confirming what I said before."
I'm not even sure what the Doc Brown movie reference is supposed to mean (the grammar is a bit wonky).
"All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: 'for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood." (You)
"For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height" (Me)
These are not the same statements. I specifically point out that pedophiles are attracted to qualities they associated with, and only with, children, both PHYSICALLY and MENTALLY. This includes premature faces and childish behavior. However, it is the age that defines the pedophile.
In your case, you argue that pedophiles are attracted to characteristics related to childhood. This is different. This logic suggests that a grown adult that shares some qualities with that of a child would be enough to define a pedophile. In my case, I say specific PREMATURE qualities. When a woman becomes an adult, they are no longer a child, and therefore are not premature.
"and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles."
Here I misinterpreted what you said. However, this still supports my claim. This goes against what you said:
"There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular.""
This is a contradiction to what you say here. This suggests that people find the concept of muscles on a child even more spectacular, when you then go on to say that it would add no real value unless they really were pedophiles.
"And I'm sorry but I find you really presumptuous to claim that you can make a diagnosis like that or that a professional could never confirm this kind of thing without being a psychologist yourself or having studied this. And to want to defend it with your story of arguments of authority, is even more presumptuous."
I've discussed this already. You just can't accept that you were wrong to make this argument from authority.
"Your opinion is not better than mine or that of the guy who answered me on this subject (and if I had talked about this guy, well I admit I wanted to round off the angles by being evasive to give it a little more weight, but it's mainly to say that a person outside of this can confirm it, a person who is moreover accustomed to the subjects of psychologies, being a regular member of a psychology forum, it's worth what it's worth, it's not a very viable argument, but it gives a little extra to my point of view)."
My opinion is more factual and more informed than yours. We literally bank on people that know more facts than us: doctors, teachers, physicists, scientists, engineers. So, yes, my opinion is better than a subjective one that has no evidence besides "because I said so." If you were to enter a proper debate like this, you would be kicked off stage immediately, so don't even have the gall to call it a debate.
"Anyway, I'm not necessarily trying to give hyper viable arguments that can't be contradicted, I'm only trying to give my point of view and my small personal analysis, probably imperfect, on the subject in order to better understand what can lead to this kind of fantasy and not to judge hastily."
Then you're not trying to change someone's perspective nor are you trying to support your own. And this again confirms your subjective approach. And yes, it is VERY imperfect.
"However, there is something that bothers me since the beginning: If you are so repulsed by it, what are you doing on this topic?
Considering the story and its length, one can ask oneself the question, or it's a troll, or it's a feeling that you repress (which could explain this arrogant and pretentious aggressiveness in your comments), or else you have to explain me because I don't understand. "
I stumbled across this story years before you did. And that was when "superman" was introduced (you can even find my original comments). So I went back and read the whole story. I didn't like the underage Kylie at all, nor any of the other underage characters.
It's funny to see you attempt a psychological analysis of me after all of this. "Pedophilia" is not a feeling I repress merely because you find me arrogant and pretentious (that doesn't even make sense. How does calling out this sort of pedophilia constitute arrogance and pretentiousness?). That would mean anyone that aggressively goes against pedophilia is actually a repressed pedophile.
So there you have it. All you're looking for is some other people to agree with you. I won't because I think your way of thinking is very illogical and overly subjective, not to mention that it is objectively wrong.
You're probably going to attempt another response, but at this stage all I see you as is someone that can't throw up his/her hands and say, "You're right." You have suggested that I am right to a degree, which I go against still. I say I am 100% right in my statements, and that you are wrong in all objective aspects.
You even end with an attempt at a psychological analysis of my character because you know you can't supply actual evidence for your answers. You instead want to jump around what makes a debate a debate.
Next time, don't call your opinions facts. Don't use an argument from authority. Don't bring up subjective experiences and use them to represent the whole spectrum. When you do this, you become arrogant. I have said this from the very start because you were consistent in making blind statements and passing them off as facts.
-
Wow. Comments are in a storm here. I myself like the writing and flow of the story itself. Well written and I didn't mind the ending at all.
-
"This sentence says it all, you are convinced you are right, so no matter what is said you will only try to prove you are right by dismantling the other's argument and not to objectively analyze the other's arguments in order to have a holy debate. Just the way you start each of your comments announces the color "Yeah", "Okay", "Oh, this should be good", you are not here to have a healthy debate but to bash everything I say. Moreover, you say that you earn your living by debating, which gives you a definite advantage over me, not to mention the language (you speak in your mother tongue, which is a language I don't master and which forces me to use an imperfect automatic translator). It is obvious that you have a skill that I do not have in this kind of exercise.
Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living. But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's.
And no I don't realize that you are necessarily right, except that unlike you I don't pretend to be right, so I never pretended that you are necessarily wrong, I only share my imperfect point of view but not necessarily wrong."
Actually, this debate is more about proving YOU wrong, and in the process showing you that it is indeed pedophilia. I have objectively analyzed your argument; that's the reason I'm responding to you. This is not a debate; this is one person systematically disproving another person's points because they don't make any sense. One side (me) is objective, the other side (you) is visceral and subjective. Objectivity isn't influenced by personal opinions but instead deals with facts. Subjectivity deals with personal experiences and opinionated logic (which you have been doing since the very start). So, technically, you are not debating anything because you're too focused on what you personally believe without providing evidence for your answers.
I add in comments like "Oh, this should be good" because I am well-accustomed to people that think they are correct. (You in this case).
Yes, I have an advantage over you. There is no doubt, anyone reading this discussion can tell that you've been dismantled on every point you've made. That is part of the art of debating.
"Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living."
I have given you my point of view: an attraction to muscles on a child is a form of pedophilia (that is and always will be my opening argument). Then, I disproved your view, because your side is overly subjective and doesn't deal with facts at all. You say I haven't given any facts. Have you even read my comments? I told you that pedophilia is the attraction to children (Fact) One constitutes a child is their age. The attraction to the bodyshape of a child is still pedophilia because they are underage (Fact). A quick google search will support these claims, or alternatively, contacting the psychologists that write the articles about pedophilia that also support my answers. It just takes a bit of effort from your side.
I have also given data that supports my point of view: the posts about people wanting stories with sexualized children taken down, evidence of actual stories being taken down, and a definition for pedophilia which cannot be altered. Pedophilia is very easy to identify: an adult that is attracted to a child. It is not a complex disorder that requires a professional to diagnose. And, do you really believe most pedophiles would even share this with a licensed professional? No. It is up to the community to identify them and have them prosecuted. So, yes, anyone can identify an adult that is attracted to a child. Saying they can't is just an attempt at trying to argue from an authoritative perspective, where you try shut down anything that doesn't focus on professionalism. Funnily enough, you do the same thing here, where you focus on a subjective experience and use that as a basis to represent both the community, and deem your points "facts". You have given subjective, blind statements multiple times and called them facts. Of course I'm not going to let you get away with that.
"But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's."
Again, then you're providing a subjective argument, and not a very good one. Here is where you contradict yourself on the topic of objectivity.
Yes, my arguments are imperfect and easily dismantled for someone like you who has a certain skill in debates, because they are not based on concrete facts but on my experience and my personal experience from talking to other female muscle fans and surfing on sites related to female muscles, social networks, forums and others on the internet for more than 20 years, I can't prove what I say but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm wrong It's not because a statement is not provable that it is necessarily wrong, but it can come from a coherent thought.
After that, you only have to look at the themes in the various fictions and other arts related to female muscles, or discuss with other female muscle admirers to understand the general drivers. No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans.
"Imperfect" is a very loose term. Your arguments are wrong objectively. You can't get upset at me for debating via a factual, objective basis. You have given "subjective" evidence, which could easily be made up. This is why it isn't a debate. This is you attempting to argue against objectivity.
" No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans."
I think this is where your lack of understanding comes in. I have already stated that I am aware of the complex fetish of muscle. I have not debated otherwise. I have debated from the very start that the attraction to muscles on a child is pedophilia. You went ahead and said, "Well, no, it's much more complex than that." You gave your reasons. I dismantled your reasons, and now you want to cry and tell me I'm basically being unfair because I'm not looking at things from your perspective. I have no idea who you are, there is no reason for me to assume all of your subjective reasons are valid, because in the grand scheme of things, they're not. They are entirely subjective and blind. Again, this is why this isn't a debate. You seem to have this idea that I'm supposed to let your inconsistencies slide and then develop an answer catering to those inconsistencies. This just shows how arrogant you really are; the world doesn't revolve around your perspective, and the hypocrisy of you to say that I'm not being objective is laughable. You are looking for a subjective discussion, not an objective one. Learn the difference.
"It doesn't matter what "many" means exactly, what matters is that in my experience I have found a number of them which I cannot estimate."
In an objective debate, yes it does. If I were to say that many people in this world are pedophiles, I would need evidence to support that. Merely going around and looking at forums is not evidence. That's ridiculous, and it's exactly what you've done. "In my experience" (Another subjective argument).
"You ask me for facts, but you don't give any yourself in any of your arguments, you just dismantle mine without providing anything. You claim that it is necessarily pedophilia without giving any proof. Afterwards, maybe it's only a problem of definition of the term that diverges, and according to the definition it could be considered as pedophilia, and it's true that given your mania to simplify everything to the maximum without making distinctions between the divergences, the nuances and the subtleties, I understand that according to your definition it's pedophilia. And in a way you are right, it is true that in the broad sense of the term it is a particular form of pedophilia. But from a medical point of view is it really pedophilia? Prove to me that this is really pathological. Is it really a pathology or just an isolated, if uncomfortable, fantasy? And also prove to me that this is dangerous. Because the importance is there, to know if it presents well a real danger for others (especially for young children). This possible danger I talk about every time but you never tried to answer me about it. You know how to dismantle well selected pieces of arguments, but to talk about what is really important, there is no one left."
I asked you to support your claims with evidence as opposed to making blind statements based on nothing but pure subjectivity (as it turns out). I did give you facts multiple times. But most of my comment was there to dismantle your side. This is because this sort of discussion is a juxtaposed, black-and-white argument. One side makes a large claim, the other disproves it. It's not an open-to-interpretation discussion because there is a right side and a wrong side. The sort of debate you're thinking of deals with multiple view points and visceral propositions (subjectivity). In this case, you are incorrect.
"I'm not going to go on and on about the arguments you're having fun dismantling, there's a lot to say but I've wasted enough time in this debate without any outcome."
This isn't a debate. Debates need logical consistency and factual accuracy. There are cases where you can report on emotions, of course, but here you are trying to pass your view off as fact. You have even added instances of "In fact", "the fact that". You have opened up an objective argument and used subjectivity to support it.
"Just a few details like "or anything else related to childhood", if you think about it, it's easy to determine that I'm talking about things that directly affect children and not about adults with characteristics that reflect children, but your goal is only to find the smallest flaw in my argument to dismantle it with a flawless bad faith (I'm starting to rhyme now lol)"
On the contrary, it's not that easy. What directly affects children?
"This is big making fun like I've never seen. I'm distorting your words with a sentence I said in a comment before yours. How's it going? Do you imagine that I'm friends with Doc Brown and that I borrowed his DeLorean to go see the future in order to distort your words in the past?"
I didn't distort anything, you just said exactly the same thing I said before, you used different words but the meaning is exactly the same, so I thanked you for confirming what I said before."
I'm not even sure what the Doc Brown movie reference is supposed to mean (the grammar is a bit wonky).
"All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: 'for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood." (You)
"For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height" (Me)
These are not the same statements. I specifically point out that pedophiles are attracted to qualities they associated with, and only with, children, both PHYSICALLY and MENTALLY. This includes premature faces and childish behavior. However, it is the age that defines the pedophile.
In your case, you argue that pedophiles are attracted to characteristics related to childhood. This is different. This logic suggests that a grown adult that shares some qualities with that of a child would be enough to define a pedophile. In my case, I say specific PREMATURE qualities. When a woman becomes an adult, they are no longer a child, and therefore are not premature.
"and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles."
Here I misinterpreted what you said. However, this still supports my claim. This goes against what you said:
"There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular.""
This is a contradiction to what you say here. This suggests that people find the concept of muscles on a child even more spectacular, when you then go on to say that it would add no real value unless they really were pedophiles.
"And I'm sorry but I find you really presumptuous to claim that you can make a diagnosis like that or that a professional could never confirm this kind of thing without being a psychologist yourself or having studied this. And to want to defend it with your story of arguments of authority, is even more presumptuous."
I've discussed this already. You just can't accept that you were wrong to make this argument from authority.
"Your opinion is not better than mine or that of the guy who answered me on this subject (and if I had talked about this guy, well I admit I wanted to round off the angles by being evasive to give it a little more weight, but it's mainly to say that a person outside of this can confirm it, a person who is moreover accustomed to the subjects of psychologies, being a regular member of a psychology forum, it's worth what it's worth, it's not a very viable argument, but it gives a little extra to my point of view)."
My opinion is more factual and more informed than yours. We literally bank on people that know more facts than us: doctors, teachers, physicists, scientists, engineers. So, yes, my opinion is better than a subjective one that has no evidence besides "because I said so." If you were to enter a proper debate like this, you would be kicked off stage immediately, so don't even have the gall to call it a debate.
"Anyway, I'm not necessarily trying to give hyper viable arguments that can't be contradicted, I'm only trying to give my point of view and my small personal analysis, probably imperfect, on the subject in order to better understand what can lead to this kind of fantasy and not to judge hastily."
Then you're not trying to change someone's perspective nor are you trying to support your own. And this again confirms your subjective approach. And yes, it is VERY imperfect.
"However, there is something that bothers me since the beginning: If you are so repulsed by it, what are you doing on this topic?
Considering the story and its length, one can ask oneself the question, or it's a troll, or it's a feeling that you repress (which could explain this arrogant and pretentious aggressiveness in your comments), or else you have to explain me because I don't understand. "
I stumbled across this story years before you did. And that was when "superman" was introduced (you can even find my original comments). So I went back and read the whole story. I didn't like the underage Kylie at all, nor any of the other underage characters.
It's funny to see you attempt a psychological analysis of me after all of this. "Pedophilia" is not a feeling I repress merely because you find me arrogant and pretentious (that doesn't even make sense. How does calling out this sort of pedophilia constitute arrogance and pretentiousness?). That would mean anyone that aggressively goes against pedophilia is actually a repressed pedophile.
So there you have it. All you're looking for is some other people to agree with you. I won't because I think your way of thinking is very illogical and overly subjective, not to mention that it is objectively wrong.
You're probably going to attempt another response, but at this stage all I see you as is someone that can't throw up his/her hands and say, "You're right." You have suggested that I am right to a degree, which I go against still. I say I am 100% right in my statements, and that you are wrong in all objective aspects.
You even end with an attempt at a psychological analysis of my character because you know you can't supply actual evidence for your answers. You instead want to jump around what makes a debate a debate.
Next time, don't call your opinions facts. Don't use an argument from authority. Don't bring up subjective experiences and use them to represent the whole spectrum. When you do this, you become arrogant. I have said this from the very start because you were consistent in making blind statements and passing them off as facts.
We definitely don't have the same vision of arrogance (well, that's not the only thing we don't have the same vision of), for me the one who has been arrogant since the beginning is you. You are the one who is convinced that you are right, you are the one who wants me to raise my hands in the air to say that you are right. If that isn't arrogance, I don't know what is. No one who is honest can say they are 100% right, only fools believe it. The fools who are self-sufficient and do not try to improve their point of view.
You also have the arrogance to claim that everyone who reads our conversation will necessarily agree with you, without even having seen a single opinion. Besides, it might be interesting to have other people give their point of view on the subject. However when I say that you have an advantage over me, it's just because of your experience in debates, because you say that you earn your living with them (and also because of the language).
You have the arrogance to say that your opinion is more factual and informed than mine, when it is based on a single fact that is far too broad in relation to our particular case to be able to identify it as an indisputable fact. My opinion is certainly has a part of subjectivity, but it is not only subjective, an experience is not only subjective, it is based on personal observations which make it objective facts. The veracity of these facts is difficult to prove but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. It doesn't make them indisputable facts, but it doesn't make them any less objective.
All the more so with a subject like this one which is based on feelings as it is fantasy, it is of the psychic order, there is nothing really concrete to present, it is psychology, it is very difficult to find indisputable concrete facts for this kind of subject. Hence the complexity of the subject. By the way, when you say that it is not a difficult subject, it is purely subjective, it is not based on any facts.
Moreover, my opinion has been well thought out for some time, taking into account the findings of my personal experience, which does not seem to be the case of yours, which looks more like a basic reaction that is not thought out and that only scratches the surface of things based on a single surface fact, so my opinion seems to me to be much more informed than yours.
In short, let's talk about this single fact on which your opinion is based: By definition pedophilia is the sexual attraction to children. This only proves that at first sight our case looks like a form of pedophilia, only in appearance. But haven't you ever been told that appearances are often deceiving? By definition pedophilia are also various clinical pathological cases of psychological orders related to mental disorders, basically pedophilia is a psychological disease. Nothing proves that our case is necessarily a psychological disease, such as you yourself diagnosed it without having the necessary skills and starting from the only postulate that our case resembles a form of pedophilia (hence my question to know if you studied psychology, to know if you have the skills to make this kind of diagnosis, your only answer being that there is no need to be a psychologist turning this into an "argument from authority", I deduce that it is not). And above all, there is no evidence that our case is directly linked to a sexual attraction to children.
What I argue is that our case is not necessarily related to a pedophile-type pathology or a fantasy that directly concerns children (note that I say "not necessarily" and not "necessarily not").
Fact #1 : Our case take source in the female muscle fantasy, a fantasy related to the physical superiority of female persons over male persons thus upsetting the normal (or natural if it becomes surreal) order of things as defined in our society. The fact of being impressed by this physical superiority is also a driving force of this fantasy, the more this impresses the stronger the fantasy becomes.
Fact #2 : A fantasy, being tied to personal feelings related to unconsciousness, knows virtually no limits (unless the overkill becomes disgusting, which appeals to another feeling ending the fantasy). The fantasy is not aware of the limits linked to the age of the subject, whether the subject is 18 or 17, the fantasy does not know the difference, only personal conscience, personal morality and personal will allow to put limits (more or less difficult depending on the strength of the fantasy). (If we add the laws on majority that vary from one country to another, there is enough to disturb the fantasy).
Fact #3 : This one answers one of your questions in your previous comment : Yes, the muscles on children are more impressive than on adults, due to the undeniable fact that children are basically much weaker and more fragile than adults and that they cannot develop as many muscles as adults, this is a biological fact. It is therefore obvious that a child with the musculature and strength of an adult athlete is amazing, a child will automatically be more impressive than an adult with the same muscular characteristics. Age can therefore be a driver of this fantasy. A strong and muscular 18 year old girl is more impressive than a 22 year old woman who can be more impressive than a more mature woman with the same characteristics and a 17 year old girl is even more impressive (and from a certain age onwards, the process is reversed, on a 60 year old woman it will be more impressive than on a 40 year old woman) An impressive or surprising fact being a fact which upsets the standards, and the more this one upsets the standards, the more this one will be impressive or surprising. If this is the driving force behind a fantasy, the age of the subject necessarily plays a certain role, as long as we do not set limits ourselves (or as long as these limits do not conflict with another personal feeling).
Fact #4 : Muscles totally change the physical appearance and proportions of the subject. This can be a misleading element for the fantasy that does not know how to distinguish age (fact #2).
Fact #5 : In the majority of stories I have read featuring muscular and powerful underage girls, the approach to muscles and strength is exactly the same as for stories featuring muscular and powerful adult women, only the situation changes in relation to the age of the subject (necessarily the professional, family, and other friendly relationships, will not be the same for a 13 years old girl as for an adult woman) and the age is only used to emphasize her skills and characteristics, like "wow she is such an age and she is able to do such and such" or "wow she is such an age and she already has professional bodybuilder muscles". By the way Kylie is exactly that, at 12 years old she wins a junior bodybuilding contest for more 16 years old, and at 13 years old she wins Mr. Olympia, the strongest man in the world and fights against professionals.
These facts may be debatable for the most part, since I cannot prove them 100%, because they are mostly elements linked to human feelings, therefore of a psychic nature, which I have observed myself, there is nothing concrete to present, it is very difficult to prove, but they are no less objective facts and this constitutes a coherent and objective reasoning.
In short, to conclude this point: Isn't our case based more on the fantasy linked to human persons of female sex who upset the societal or natural norms because of their muscular power, rather than on a fantasy directly linked to the childish condition of the subject?
However, our case being very varied, what I am saying does not apply to all the profiles, some may indeed be more related to a clinical pathology that could be identified as pedophilic, but this does not necessarily correspond to all the profiles in our case. It would be necessary to be able to study each profile one by one, to determine exactly what results from clinical cases linked to pedophilia or not.
My speech says that it is not necessarily this, which includes that I admit that I could be wrong and that it does not necessarily apply to all the cases of our subject.
So I'm not saying that there are not stories here that result from pedophilia cases, although not having read them, I can't confirm your statements, however these stories don't necessarily apply to all of our case, but only to certain profiles. So it is not a solid proof. Some people want certain stories to be deleted, this is only the result of the appreciation of these people. Some stories have been deleted, this is only the judgement of the moderators (it's like censorship on Youtube). Nothing here constitutes hard factual evidence, and even if it does, again, it only proves that some profiles are indeed the result of pedophilia, which I have never denied, but it does not necessarily correspond to all the profiles in our case.
Besides, I can't verify your statements since you don't give me any source. I don't know enough about the forum to confirm this.
You also have the arrogance to deflect important questions and not answer them when you don't have any arguments, claiming that "this kind of discussion is a juxtaposed, black and white argument" (for someone who sees life in black and white, this is quite comical). Of course there are gray areas (gray areas that you seem to take into account only when it suits you), that's like everything else, but to consider something unhealthy or bad, it has to lean more towards the darker grays than the lighter ones. What's the point of being offended if there's no harm or danger?
So what proves that our case can be a danger?
Because that's what it's all about, the danger that it can represent. If pedophilia is so decried (rightly) it's because of the danger it represents for our children, either physically or psychologically, a child victim of a pedophile can have very serious physical and psychological after-effects, for life, and even without that it's the child's innocence that can be in danger, and we believe that all pedophiles are a potential danger, that's where our moral values are formed. So the purpose of the thing is not so much to know if our case is a form of pedophilia or not, but if our case can constitute a real danger. Eventually, if this is to be considered a form of pedophilia, can this form of pedophilia not be so exceptional that it does not constitute any real danger? And if it does not constitute any danger, what is the harm? Prove to me that this is really wrong to the point of being offended and totally denigrating the thing.
This is the basis before judging anyone.
Besides, if pedophilia did not represent any danger, if it was possible to reconcile sex with children while preserving their innocence without it being disturbing to them, it would be accepted as much as homosexuality (under certain conditions for the preservation of the children of course) as it almost was at the beginning of the 80's if some psychologists had not fortunately put forward the dangers of pedophilia (then there was the Dutroux affair in the 90's which further emphasized the point). Today we would see the "P" of pedophile in the middle of LGBTQ+ letters
And when I see that today, in the USA, they want to put condom dispensers in elementary schools (which shocked me when I heard that), I think we're not far from it.
In short, all this to say that in our case, what is most important to consider is the potential danger that this could possibly present. Does fantasizing about childlike muscle representations present a real potential danger?
This is a contradiction to what you say here. This suggests that people find the concept of muscles on a child even more spectacular, when you then go on to say that it would add no real value unless they really were pedophiles.
Do you read what I write or are you just pretending to take parts of sentences out of context?
Here is what I wrote: "Possibly obesity, but child obesity is unfortunately not an exceptional characteristic, and those who fantasize about obesity are not looking for the same thing as admirers of female muscles, and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles."
I was talking about child obesity adding no real value, not muscles. In short, muscles add real value to children compared to adults, obesity does not.
So you have the arrogance to not read my sentences in their entirety, to pull out bits and pieces out of context, to mix it up, and to put words in my mouth that I didn't say. Isn't that called being a straw man? That's what I thought.
And as long as there is an exchange of opinions and arguments on the same theme, it is a debate (unless "debate" does not have the same meaning in English as in French). As for the fact that my opinion is incoherent, it is only your appreciation, there is nothing factual.
And being objective doesn't necessarily mean bringing facts, it also means knowing how to analyze and consider all the elements brought in a discussion, whether they are factual or not, objective or subjective. What you seem to be unable to do, you only ask for concrete facts on a subject which is essentially based on human feelings and for which it is consequently very difficult to bring concrete facts, these facts exist but they are hardly demonstrable (unless maybe you really do a complete and deep investigation, but well we are not here for that either, and even then it is not even sure that you can really bring 100% demonstrable facts), and you use the flaws to your advantage to prove that you are right. There is nothing objective about debating in this way.
In short, if one is objective and of good faith, my arguments should at least put doubt on the subject and make people think before making a judgment.
As for me, I don't see how defending an opinion I believe in and not being convinced by your counter-arguments makes me arrogant. But your arrogance is such that for you the simple fact of not sharing your point of view, makes us arrogant in your eyes.
In fact your arrogance reminds me of Kylie's, you think you're on top and you can't imagine losing.
And I'm not too convinced either by your explanation of what you are doing in this topic. Kylie is the main subject from the first chapter of a story that is 78 chapters long on 36 pages from 2019 to 2021. And you didn't have to wait for Superman before she became overpowered, could challenge any of the strongest or most muscular adult males, and adult females started getting excited about her muscular body. Not to mention that Allison has had her eye on Kylies since the first chapter. Anyway, even if you've been following the story from the beginning (I'd say it's even worse), one wonders what the hell you're still doing here if you don't like fantasy stories about muscular and overpowered underage girls.
And I'm not trying to analyze your character, I'm just wondering what the hell you're doing here, it's a question I've been asking myself since the beginning of our conversation and I'm just asking you now.
And I never said that pedophilia is a feeling that you repress because I find you arrogant or that opposing pedophilia is arrogance, on the contrary, I have never been in favor of pedophilia, this is as repugnant to me as anyone else. I just try to be a little more open on the subject than you are. I try to step back from my feelings on the subject, unlike you. And I don't consider that our case is necessarily pedophilia, and if we can be considered as a form of pedophiles, I think that it remains a case apart (depending on the profiles of our case). In short, if you are arrogant for me, it is not because you repress pedophilia nor because you oppose my point of view, but because of everything I mentioned above, and more concretely it is because of the way you oppose it, and not because you oppose it.
So in fact, me what I see is just an obnoxious, pretentious, arrogant and unpleasant person who only wants to see the surface of things and who only tries to prove that he is right with a lot of bad faith by dismantling as much as possible the arguments of the other person without analyzing objectively the elements that are brought to him whether they are factual or not. Your goal is not to try to understand my point of view but to dismantle it to prove that you are right. And nothing you say really advances the debate (or conversation, whatever you call it).
On that note I'd like to get this debate (or conversation, whatever you call it) over with as quickly as possible because I'd much rather talk about Kylie's story than this, this was originally a 3 or 4 line apart on my opinion of the story, which you jumped on, and it's become a long, drawn out debate (or conversation) with comments as long as a chapter of the story.
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"This sentence says it all, you are convinced you are right, so no matter what is said you will only try to prove you are right by dismantling the other's argument and not to objectively analyze the other's arguments in order to have a holy debate. Just the way you start each of your comments announces the color "Yeah", "Okay", "Oh, this should be good", you are not here to have a healthy debate but to bash everything I say. Moreover, you say that you earn your living by debating, which gives you a definite advantage over me, not to mention the language (you speak in your mother tongue, which is a language I don't master and which forces me to use an imperfect automatic translator). It is obvious that you have a skill that I do not have in this kind of exercise.
Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living. But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's.
And no I don't realize that you are necessarily right, except that unlike you I don't pretend to be right, so I never pretended that you are necessarily wrong, I only share my imperfect point of view but not necessarily wrong."
Actually, this debate is more about proving YOU wrong, and in the process showing you that it is indeed pedophilia. I have objectively analyzed your argument; that's the reason I'm responding to you. This is not a debate; this is one person systematically disproving another person's points because they don't make any sense. One side (me) is objective, the other side (you) is visceral and subjective. Objectivity isn't influenced by personal opinions but instead deals with facts. Subjectivity deals with personal experiences and opinionated logic (which you have been doing since the very start). So, technically, you are not debating anything because you're too focused on what you personally believe without providing evidence for your answers.
I add in comments like "Oh, this should be good" because I am well-accustomed to people that think they are correct. (You in this case).
Yes, I have an advantage over you. There is no doubt, anyone reading this discussion can tell that you've been dismantled on every point you've made. That is part of the art of debating.
"Your goal is not to listen to the other person in order to understand his point of view and then give your own, but only to dismantle the other person's argument in order to prove that you are right, which is for me the most detestable way of debating, but maybe this is how you earn your living."
I have given you my point of view: an attraction to muscles on a child is a form of pedophilia (that is and always will be my opening argument). Then, I disproved your view, because your side is overly subjective and doesn't deal with facts at all. You say I haven't given any facts. Have you even read my comments? I told you that pedophilia is the attraction to children (Fact) One constitutes a child is their age. The attraction to the bodyshape of a child is still pedophilia because they are underage (Fact). A quick google search will support these claims, or alternatively, contacting the psychologists that write the articles about pedophilia that also support my answers. It just takes a bit of effort from your side.
I have also given data that supports my point of view: the posts about people wanting stories with sexualized children taken down, evidence of actual stories being taken down, and a definition for pedophilia which cannot be altered. Pedophilia is very easy to identify: an adult that is attracted to a child. It is not a complex disorder that requires a professional to diagnose. And, do you really believe most pedophiles would even share this with a licensed professional? No. It is up to the community to identify them and have them prosecuted. So, yes, anyone can identify an adult that is attracted to a child. Saying they can't is just an attempt at trying to argue from an authoritative perspective, where you try shut down anything that doesn't focus on professionalism. Funnily enough, you do the same thing here, where you focus on a subjective experience and use that as a basis to represent both the community, and deem your points "facts". You have given subjective, blind statements multiple times and called them facts. Of course I'm not going to let you get away with that.
"But me I don't debate to earn a living, I debate only to share a personal point of view without denigrating the other's."
Again, then you're providing a subjective argument, and not a very good one. Here is where you contradict yourself on the topic of objectivity.
Yes, my arguments are imperfect and easily dismantled for someone like you who has a certain skill in debates, because they are not based on concrete facts but on my experience and my personal experience from talking to other female muscle fans and surfing on sites related to female muscles, social networks, forums and others on the internet for more than 20 years, I can't prove what I say but that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm wrong It's not because a statement is not provable that it is necessarily wrong, but it can come from a coherent thought.
After that, you only have to look at the themes in the various fictions and other arts related to female muscles, or discuss with other female muscle admirers to understand the general drivers. No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans.
"Imperfect" is a very loose term. Your arguments are wrong objectively. You can't get upset at me for debating via a factual, objective basis. You have given "subjective" evidence, which could easily be made up. This is why it isn't a debate. This is you attempting to argue against objectivity.
" No, but frankly, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to understand that, for example, the superiority of women over men is one of the most popular themes among female muscle fans."
I think this is where your lack of understanding comes in. I have already stated that I am aware of the complex fetish of muscle. I have not debated otherwise. I have debated from the very start that the attraction to muscles on a child is pedophilia. You went ahead and said, "Well, no, it's much more complex than that." You gave your reasons. I dismantled your reasons, and now you want to cry and tell me I'm basically being unfair because I'm not looking at things from your perspective. I have no idea who you are, there is no reason for me to assume all of your subjective reasons are valid, because in the grand scheme of things, they're not. They are entirely subjective and blind. Again, this is why this isn't a debate. You seem to have this idea that I'm supposed to let your inconsistencies slide and then develop an answer catering to those inconsistencies. This just shows how arrogant you really are; the world doesn't revolve around your perspective, and the hypocrisy of you to say that I'm not being objective is laughable. You are looking for a subjective discussion, not an objective one. Learn the difference.
"It doesn't matter what "many" means exactly, what matters is that in my experience I have found a number of them which I cannot estimate."
In an objective debate, yes it does. If I were to say that many people in this world are pedophiles, I would need evidence to support that. Merely going around and looking at forums is not evidence. That's ridiculous, and it's exactly what you've done. "In my experience" (Another subjective argument).
"You ask me for facts, but you don't give any yourself in any of your arguments, you just dismantle mine without providing anything. You claim that it is necessarily pedophilia without giving any proof. Afterwards, maybe it's only a problem of definition of the term that diverges, and according to the definition it could be considered as pedophilia, and it's true that given your mania to simplify everything to the maximum without making distinctions between the divergences, the nuances and the subtleties, I understand that according to your definition it's pedophilia. And in a way you are right, it is true that in the broad sense of the term it is a particular form of pedophilia. But from a medical point of view is it really pedophilia? Prove to me that this is really pathological. Is it really a pathology or just an isolated, if uncomfortable, fantasy? And also prove to me that this is dangerous. Because the importance is there, to know if it presents well a real danger for others (especially for young children). This possible danger I talk about every time but you never tried to answer me about it. You know how to dismantle well selected pieces of arguments, but to talk about what is really important, there is no one left."
I asked you to support your claims with evidence as opposed to making blind statements based on nothing but pure subjectivity (as it turns out). I did give you facts multiple times. But most of my comment was there to dismantle your side. This is because this sort of discussion is a juxtaposed, black-and-white argument. One side makes a large claim, the other disproves it. It's not an open-to-interpretation discussion because there is a right side and a wrong side. The sort of debate you're thinking of deals with multiple view points and visceral propositions (subjectivity). In this case, you are incorrect.
"I'm not going to go on and on about the arguments you're having fun dismantling, there's a lot to say but I've wasted enough time in this debate without any outcome."
This isn't a debate. Debates need logical consistency and factual accuracy. There are cases where you can report on emotions, of course, but here you are trying to pass your view off as fact. You have even added instances of "In fact", "the fact that". You have opened up an objective argument and used subjectivity to support it.
"Just a few details like "or anything else related to childhood", if you think about it, it's easy to determine that I'm talking about things that directly affect children and not about adults with characteristics that reflect children, but your goal is only to find the smallest flaw in my argument to dismantle it with a flawless bad faith (I'm starting to rhyme now lol)"
On the contrary, it's not that easy. What directly affects children?
"This is big making fun like I've never seen. I'm distorting your words with a sentence I said in a comment before yours. How's it going? Do you imagine that I'm friends with Doc Brown and that I borrowed his DeLorean to go see the future in order to distort your words in the past?"
I didn't distort anything, you just said exactly the same thing I said before, you used different words but the meaning is exactly the same, so I thanked you for confirming what I said before."
I'm not even sure what the Doc Brown movie reference is supposed to mean (the grammar is a bit wonky).
"All characteristics related to childhood, thank you for confirming my arguments: 'for pedophiles, the main vector of their fantasies is age and everything related to childhood. They are looking for childlike proportions, the fragility of the child (both physical and psychological) and other things related to childhood." (You)
"For pedophiles, it's the soft, premature qualities they associate with children, both physically and mentally (I.E. Childishness, premature face, premature height" (Me)
These are not the same statements. I specifically point out that pedophiles are attracted to qualities they associated with, and only with, children, both PHYSICALLY and MENTALLY. This includes premature faces and childish behavior. However, it is the age that defines the pedophile.
In your case, you argue that pedophiles are attracted to characteristics related to childhood. This is different. This logic suggests that a grown adult that shares some qualities with that of a child would be enough to define a pedophile. In my case, I say specific PREMATURE qualities. When a woman becomes an adult, they are no longer a child, and therefore are not premature.
"and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles."
Here I misinterpreted what you said. However, this still supports my claim. This goes against what you said:
"There is also the whole aspect of superiority/inferiority, many of us like to feel that a woman is physically superior to us (and in other areas) and to feel inferior next to her, the same goes for underage girls for whom this superiority is even more spectacular.""
This is a contradiction to what you say here. This suggests that people find the concept of muscles on a child even more spectacular, when you then go on to say that it would add no real value unless they really were pedophiles.
"And I'm sorry but I find you really presumptuous to claim that you can make a diagnosis like that or that a professional could never confirm this kind of thing without being a psychologist yourself or having studied this. And to want to defend it with your story of arguments of authority, is even more presumptuous."
I've discussed this already. You just can't accept that you were wrong to make this argument from authority.
"Your opinion is not better than mine or that of the guy who answered me on this subject (and if I had talked about this guy, well I admit I wanted to round off the angles by being evasive to give it a little more weight, but it's mainly to say that a person outside of this can confirm it, a person who is moreover accustomed to the subjects of psychologies, being a regular member of a psychology forum, it's worth what it's worth, it's not a very viable argument, but it gives a little extra to my point of view)."
My opinion is more factual and more informed than yours. We literally bank on people that know more facts than us: doctors, teachers, physicists, scientists, engineers. So, yes, my opinion is better than a subjective one that has no evidence besides "because I said so." If you were to enter a proper debate like this, you would be kicked off stage immediately, so don't even have the gall to call it a debate.
"Anyway, I'm not necessarily trying to give hyper viable arguments that can't be contradicted, I'm only trying to give my point of view and my small personal analysis, probably imperfect, on the subject in order to better understand what can lead to this kind of fantasy and not to judge hastily."
Then you're not trying to change someone's perspective nor are you trying to support your own. And this again confirms your subjective approach. And yes, it is VERY imperfect.
"However, there is something that bothers me since the beginning: If you are so repulsed by it, what are you doing on this topic?
Considering the story and its length, one can ask oneself the question, or it's a troll, or it's a feeling that you repress (which could explain this arrogant and pretentious aggressiveness in your comments), or else you have to explain me because I don't understand. "
I stumbled across this story years before you did. And that was when "superman" was introduced (you can even find my original comments). So I went back and read the whole story. I didn't like the underage Kylie at all, nor any of the other underage characters.
It's funny to see you attempt a psychological analysis of me after all of this. "Pedophilia" is not a feeling I repress merely because you find me arrogant and pretentious (that doesn't even make sense. How does calling out this sort of pedophilia constitute arrogance and pretentiousness?). That would mean anyone that aggressively goes against pedophilia is actually a repressed pedophile.
So there you have it. All you're looking for is some other people to agree with you. I won't because I think your way of thinking is very illogical and overly subjective, not to mention that it is objectively wrong.
You're probably going to attempt another response, but at this stage all I see you as is someone that can't throw up his/her hands and say, "You're right." You have suggested that I am right to a degree, which I go against still. I say I am 100% right in my statements, and that you are wrong in all objective aspects.
You even end with an attempt at a psychological analysis of my character because you know you can't supply actual evidence for your answers. You instead want to jump around what makes a debate a debate.
Next time, don't call your opinions facts. Don't use an argument from authority. Don't bring up subjective experiences and use them to represent the whole spectrum. When you do this, you become arrogant. I have said this from the very start because you were consistent in making blind statements and passing them off as facts.
We definitely don't have the same vision of arrogance (well, that's not the only thing we don't have the same vision of), for me the one who has been arrogant since the beginning is you. You are the one who is convinced that you are right, you are the one who wants me to raise my hands in the air to say that you are right. If that isn't arrogance, I don't know what is. No one who is honest can say they are 100% right, only fools believe it. The fools who are self-sufficient and do not try to improve their point of view.
You also have the arrogance to claim that everyone who reads our conversation will necessarily agree with you, without even having seen a single opinion. Besides, it might be interesting to have other people give their point of view on the subject. However when I say that you have an advantage over me, it's just because of your experience in debates, because you say that you earn your living with them (and also because of the language).
You have the arrogance to say that your opinion is more factual and informed than mine, when it is based on a single fact that is far too broad in relation to our particular case to be able to identify it as an indisputable fact. My opinion is certainly has a part of subjectivity, but it is not only subjective, an experience is not only subjective, it is based on personal observations which make it objective facts. The veracity of these facts is difficult to prove but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. It doesn't make them indisputable facts, but it doesn't make them any less objective.
All the more so with a subject like this one which is based on feelings as it is fantasy, it is of the psychic order, there is nothing really concrete to present, it is psychology, it is very difficult to find indisputable concrete facts for this kind of subject. Hence the complexity of the subject. By the way, when you say that it is not a difficult subject, it is purely subjective, it is not based on any facts.
Moreover, my opinion has been well thought out for some time, taking into account the findings of my personal experience, which does not seem to be the case of yours, which looks more like a basic reaction that is not thought out and that only scratches the surface of things based on a single surface fact, so my opinion seems to me to be much more informed than yours.
In short, let's talk about this single fact on which your opinion is based: By definition pedophilia is the sexual attraction to children. This only proves that at first sight our case looks like a form of pedophilia, only in appearance. But haven't you ever been told that appearances are often deceiving? By definition pedophilia are also various clinical pathological cases of psychological orders related to mental disorders, basically pedophilia is a psychological disease. Nothing proves that our case is necessarily a psychological disease, such as you yourself diagnosed it without having the necessary skills and starting from the only postulate that our case resembles a form of pedophilia (hence my question to know if you studied psychology, to know if you have the skills to make this kind of diagnosis, your only answer being that there is no need to be a psychologist turning this into an "argument from authority", I deduce that it is not). And above all, there is no evidence that our case is directly linked to a sexual attraction to children.
What I argue is that our case is not necessarily related to a pedophile-type pathology or a fantasy that directly concerns children (note that I say "not necessarily" and not "necessarily not").
Fact #1 : Our case take source in the female muscle fantasy, a fantasy related to the physical superiority of female persons over male persons thus upsetting the normal (or natural if it becomes surreal) order of things as defined in our society. The fact of being impressed by this physical superiority is also a driving force of this fantasy, the more this impresses the stronger the fantasy becomes.
Fact #2 : A fantasy, being tied to personal feelings related to unconsciousness, knows virtually no limits (unless the overkill becomes disgusting, which appeals to another feeling ending the fantasy). The fantasy is not aware of the limits linked to the age of the subject, whether the subject is 18 or 17, the fantasy does not know the difference, only personal conscience, personal morality and personal will allow to put limits (more or less difficult depending on the strength of the fantasy). (If we add the laws on majority that vary from one country to another, there is enough to disturb the fantasy).
Fact #3 : This one answers one of your questions in your previous comment : Yes, the muscles on children are more impressive than on adults, due to the undeniable fact that children are basically much weaker and more fragile than adults and that they cannot develop as many muscles as adults, this is a biological fact. It is therefore obvious that a child with the musculature and strength of an adult athlete is amazing, a child will automatically be more impressive than an adult with the same muscular characteristics. Age can therefore be a driver of this fantasy. A strong and muscular 18 year old girl is more impressive than a 22 year old woman who can be more impressive than a more mature woman with the same characteristics and a 17 year old girl is even more impressive (and from a certain age onwards, the process is reversed, on a 60 year old woman it will be more impressive than on a 40 year old woman) An impressive or surprising fact being a fact which upsets the standards, and the more this one upsets the standards, the more this one will be impressive or surprising. If this is the driving force behind a fantasy, the age of the subject necessarily plays a certain role, as long as we do not set limits ourselves (or as long as these limits do not conflict with another personal feeling).
Fact #4 : Muscles totally change the physical appearance and proportions of the subject. This can be a misleading element for the fantasy that does not know how to distinguish age (fact #2).
Fact #5 : In the majority of stories I have read featuring muscular and powerful underage girls, the approach to muscles and strength is exactly the same as for stories featuring muscular and powerful adult women, only the situation changes in relation to the age of the subject (necessarily the professional, family, and other friendly relationships, will not be the same for a 13 years old girl as for an adult woman) and the age is only used to emphasize her skills and characteristics, like "wow she is such an age and she is able to do such and such" or "wow she is such an age and she already has professional bodybuilder muscles". By the way Kylie is exactly that, at 12 years old she wins a junior bodybuilding contest for more 16 years old, and at 13 years old she wins Mr. Olympia, the strongest man in the world and fights against professionals.
These facts may be debatable for the most part, since I cannot prove them 100%, because they are mostly elements linked to human feelings, therefore of a psychic nature, which I have observed myself, there is nothing concrete to present, it is very difficult to prove, but they are no less objective facts and this constitutes a coherent and objective reasoning.
In short, to conclude this point: Isn't our case based more on the fantasy linked to human persons of female sex who upset the societal or natural norms because of their muscular power, rather than on a fantasy directly linked to the childish condition of the subject?
However, our case being very varied, what I am saying does not apply to all the profiles, some may indeed be more related to a clinical pathology that could be identified as pedophilic, but this does not necessarily correspond to all the profiles in our case. It would be necessary to be able to study each profile one by one, to determine exactly what results from clinical cases linked to pedophilia or not.
My speech says that it is not necessarily this, which includes that I admit that I could be wrong and that it does not necessarily apply to all the cases of our subject.
So I'm not saying that there are not stories here that result from pedophilia cases, although not having read them, I can't confirm your statements, however these stories don't necessarily apply to all of our case, but only to certain profiles. So it is not a solid proof. Some people want certain stories to be deleted, this is only the result of the appreciation of these people. Some stories have been deleted, this is only the judgement of the moderators (it's like censorship on Youtube). Nothing here constitutes hard factual evidence, and even if it does, again, it only proves that some profiles are indeed the result of pedophilia, which I have never denied, but it does not necessarily correspond to all the profiles in our case.
Besides, I can't verify your statements since you don't give me any source. I don't know enough about the forum to confirm this.
You also have the arrogance to deflect important questions and not answer them when you don't have any arguments, claiming that "this kind of discussion is a juxtaposed, black and white argument" (for someone who sees life in black and white, this is quite comical). Of course there are gray areas (gray areas that you seem to take into account only when it suits you), that's like everything else, but to consider something unhealthy or bad, it has to lean more towards the darker grays than the lighter ones. What's the point of being offended if there's no harm or danger?
So what proves that our case can be a danger?
Because that's what it's all about, the danger that it can represent. If pedophilia is so decried (rightly) it's because of the danger it represents for our children, either physically or psychologically, a child victim of a pedophile can have very serious physical and psychological after-effects, for life, and even without that it's the child's innocence that can be in danger, and we believe that all pedophiles are a potential danger, that's where our moral values are formed. So the purpose of the thing is not so much to know if our case is a form of pedophilia or not, but if our case can constitute a real danger. Eventually, if this is to be considered a form of pedophilia, can this form of pedophilia not be so exceptional that it does not constitute any real danger? And if it does not constitute any danger, what is the harm? Prove to me that this is really wrong to the point of being offended and totally denigrating the thing.
This is the basis before judging anyone.
Besides, if pedophilia did not represent any danger, if it was possible to reconcile sex with children while preserving their innocence without it being disturbing to them, it would be accepted as much as homosexuality (under certain conditions for the preservation of the children of course) as it almost was at the beginning of the 80's if some psychologists had not fortunately put forward the dangers of pedophilia (then there was the Dutroux affair in the 90's which further emphasized the point). Today we would see the "P" of pedophile in the middle of LGBTQ+ letters
And when I see that today, in the USA, they want to put condom dispensers in elementary schools (which shocked me when I heard that), I think we're not far from it.
In short, all this to say that in our case, what is most important to consider is the potential danger that this could possibly present. Does fantasizing about childlike muscle representations present a real potential danger?
This is a contradiction to what you say here. This suggests that people find the concept of muscles on a child even more spectacular, when you then go on to say that it would add no real value unless they really were pedophiles.
Do you read what I write or are you just pretending to take parts of sentences out of context?
Here is what I wrote: "Possibly obesity, but child obesity is unfortunately not an exceptional characteristic, and those who fantasize about obesity are not looking for the same thing as admirers of female muscles, and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles."
I was talking about child obesity adding no real value, not muscles. In short, muscles add real value to children compared to adults, obesity does not.
So you have the arrogance to not read my sentences in their entirety, to pull out bits and pieces out of context, to mix it up, and to put words in my mouth that I didn't say. Isn't that called being a straw man? That's what I thought.
And as long as there is an exchange of opinions and arguments on the same theme, it is a debate (unless "debate" does not have the same meaning in English as in French). As for the fact that my opinion is incoherent, it is only your appreciation, there is nothing factual.
And being objective doesn't necessarily mean bringing facts, it also means knowing how to analyze and consider all the elements brought in a discussion, whether they are factual or not, objective or subjective. What you seem to be unable to do, you only ask for concrete facts on a subject which is essentially based on human feelings and for which it is consequently very difficult to bring concrete facts, these facts exist but they are hardly demonstrable (unless maybe you really do a complete and deep investigation, but well we are not here for that either, and even then it is not even sure that you can really bring 100% demonstrable facts), and you use the flaws to your advantage to prove that you are right. There is nothing objective about debating in this way.
In short, if one is objective and of good faith, my arguments should at least put doubt on the subject and make people think before making a judgment.
As for me, I don't see how defending an opinion I believe in and not being convinced by your counter-arguments makes me arrogant. But your arrogance is such that for you the simple fact of not sharing your point of view, makes us arrogant in your eyes.
In fact your arrogance reminds me of Kylie's, you think you're on top and you can't imagine losing.
And I'm not too convinced either by your explanation of what you are doing in this topic. Kylie is the main subject from the first chapter of a story that is 78 chapters long on 36 pages from 2019 to 2021. And you didn't have to wait for Superman before she became overpowered, could challenge any of the strongest or most muscular adult males, and adult females started getting excited about her muscular body. Not to mention that Allison has had her eye on Kylies since the first chapter. Anyway, even if you've been following the story from the beginning (I'd say it's even worse), one wonders what the hell you're still doing here if you don't like fantasy stories about muscular and overpowered underage girls.
And I'm not trying to analyze your character, I'm just wondering what the hell you're doing here, it's a question I've been asking myself since the beginning of our conversation and I'm just asking you now.
And I never said that pedophilia is a feeling that you repress because I find you arrogant or that opposing pedophilia is arrogance, on the contrary, I have never been in favor of pedophilia, this is as repugnant to me as anyone else. I just try to be a little more open on the subject than you are. I try to step back from my feelings on the subject, unlike you. And I don't consider that our case is necessarily pedophilia, and if we can be considered as a form of pedophiles, I think that it remains a case apart (depending on the profiles of our case). In short, if you are arrogant for me, it is not because you repress pedophilia nor because you oppose my point of view, but because of everything I mentioned above, and more concretely it is because of the way you oppose it, and not because you oppose it.
So in fact, me what I see is just an obnoxious, pretentious, arrogant and unpleasant person who only wants to see the surface of things and who only tries to prove that he is right with a lot of bad faith by dismantling as much as possible the arguments of the other person without analyzing objectively the elements that are brought to him whether they are factual or not. Your goal is not to try to understand my point of view but to dismantle it to prove that you are right. And nothing you say really advances the debate (or conversation, whatever you call it).
On that note I'd like to get this debate (or conversation, whatever you call it) over with as quickly as possible because I'd much rather talk about Kylie's story than this, this was originally a 3 or 4 line apart on my opinion of the story, which you jumped on, and it's become a long, drawn out debate (or conversation) with comments as long as a chapter of the story.
I suppose I have to do the same thing again. Firstly, I'm glad you found the time to come up with a response.
"We definitely don't have the same vision of arrogance (well, that's not the only thing we don't have the same vision of), for me the one who has been arrogant since the beginning is you. You are the one who is convinced that you are right, you are the one who wants me to raise my hands in the air to say that you are right. If that isn't arrogance, I don't know what is. No one who is honest can say they are 100% right, only fools believe it. The fools who are self-sufficient and do not try to improve their point of view."
Right, so you're going to sit there and pretend that using blind statements regularly and calling your personal observations and opinions facts isn't arrogance? Especially, when you later go on to say that there are no concrete facts surrounding this sort of psychology? I do not want you to "raise your hands in the air" and say I'm right. I want you to understand that your personal experience do not become facts merely because they are things you have perceived in your lifetime. If this were the case, people saying "I saw a unicorn" would confirm the existence of unicorns, which isn't the case. Here, you do something similar. You bring up what you have gathered across your decades of perusing the muscle forums across the web and used that to estimate an overview of the human psychology surrounding the muscle fetish. I also don't believe everyone will agree with me. I said that anyone that looks at this conversation can tell that you have no idea how to construct a debate and that I can (for obvious reasons already explained).
You say I don't try to improve my point of view, when I have already declared to you the fundamentals of my argument which you have yet to disprove. These fundamentals include the definition of paedophilia (which you partially agreed this may be a form of paedophilia by the actual definition), the attraction to a child's bodyshape, regardless of what type it may be, is paedophilia, and as long as the recipient of attraction is under the age of what is considered an adult in his/her respective country, then the person attracted is a paedophile. You have not disproved these claims, and in order for your debate to carry a ground or view, you must first argue why my side is incorrect, as opposed to merely stating your personal observations.
It doesn't matter how much you waffle on about psychology. You are not developing a ground which can support your argument because it is entirely based on subjectivity.
"You also have the arrogance to claim that everyone who reads our conversation will necessarily agree with you, without even having seen a single opinion. Besides, it might be interesting to have other people give their point of view on the subject. However when I say that you have an advantage over me, it's just because of your experience in debates, because you say that you earn your living with them (and also because of the language)."
Mentioned this.
"You have the arrogance to say that your opinion is more factual and informed than mine, when it is based on a single fact that is far too broad in relation to our particular case to be able to identify it as an indisputable fact. My opinion is certainly has a part of subjectivity, but it is not only subjective, an experience is not only subjective, it is based on personal observations which make it objective facts. The veracity of these facts is difficult to prove but that doesn't mean that they don't exist. It doesn't make them indisputable facts, but it doesn't make them any less objective."
Again, "far too broad in relation to our particular case to be able to identify as an indisputable fact." This is you working under the assumption that you have been correct so far, which I have already argued against. You have yet to prove this statement to be true without delving into your own perspective of what YOU think the human mind is like. You have not taken an objective stance, which you have ARROGANTLY deemed objective based on "personal experience" (which is not necessarily objective at all, and is quite the contrary), and instead moved past what I've been saying about what is proven and what is known about pedophilia. I have already explained pedophilia to you multiple times over. Now, I need you to put your thoughts together and rationally explain why my particular view isn't relevant in this case, because so far all you have done is bank on what you've seen on forums. Sorry, pal, that is not a defense. I can do the same thing by saying, "All professional psychologists told me this was considered paedophilia."
"All the more so with a subject like this one which is based on feelings as it is fantasy, it is of the psychic order, there is nothing really concrete to present, it is psychology, it is very difficult to find indisputable concrete facts for this kind of subject. Hence the complexity of the subject. By the way, when you say that it is not a difficult subject, it is purely subjective, it is not based on any facts."
It is indeed based on feelings. That's the thing about psychology right? So where do you come in to tell everyone that such and such is how people think when experiencing an attraction to female muscle? Again, your only defense is your very slim search of muscle fetishists. I say "slim" because the psychology surrounding this sort of discussion would no doubt differ from person to person (which you SHOULD be able to agree on), and insomuch people don't often share the extremity of fantasies (particularly with children), it seems very unlikely that you have garnered a fair number of reports to support your view on this form of psychology. And even if you did, that would not make any of what you said "facts" as you have so arrogantly deemed them on multiple occasions.
"Moreover, my opinion has been well thought out for some time, taking into account the findings of my personal experience, which does not seem to be the case of yours, which looks more like a basic reaction that is not thought out and that only scratches the surface of things based on a single surface fact, so my opinion seems to me to be much more informed than yours."
On the contrary, you saying my opinion merely "scratches the surface" is because I don't steer into subjective means. I focus on what is known and what can be known about pedophilia and muscle fetish. In this case, I can draw the two together based on the facts given by licensed professionals and the extremity that this muscle forum has gone. (Underage sexualisation particularly, but with kink-led stories as well).
"In short, let's talk about this single fact on which your opinion is based: By definition pedophilia is the sexual attraction to children. This only proves that at first sight our case looks like a form of pedophilia, only in appearance. But haven't you ever been told that appearances are often deceiving? By definition pedophilia are also various clinical pathological cases of psychological orders related to mental disorders, basically pedophilia is a psychological disease. Nothing proves that our case is necessarily a psychological disease, such as you yourself diagnosed it without having the necessary skills and starting from the only postulate that our case resembles a form of pedophilia (hence my question to know if you studied psychology, to know if you have the skills to make this kind of diagnosis, your only answer being that there is no need to be a psychologist turning this into an "argument from authority", I deduce that it is not). And above all, there is no evidence that our case is directly linked to a sexual attraction to children."
I'll take this in bits.
" But haven't you ever been told that appearances are often deceiving?"
This offers nothing. Appearances can deceive someone in the same way a bad cover can: we don't know what's on the inside. However, we do know that a book cover is a book cover, and we do know a child is a child given the biological evidence (the age, which is given in these stories as well). So, this isn't actually proving anything; you have misrepresented its use.
"By definition pedophilia are also various clinical pathological cases of psychological orders related to mental disorders, basically pedophilia is a psychological disease. Nothing proves that our case is necessarily a psychological disease, such as you yourself diagnosed it without having the necessary skills and starting from the only postulate that our case resembles a form of pedophilia (hence my question to know if you studied psychology, to know if you have the skills to make this kind of diagnosis, your only answer being that there is no need to be a psychologist turning this into an "argument from authority", I deduce that it is not). And above all, there is no evidence that our case is directly linked to a sexual attraction to children.""
"Sexual feelings directed towards children". That is quite literally proof. Hundreds of dictionaries and expanded articles will support this. Pedophilia is, again, not a complex disease. If someone is attracted to a child, and it becomes evident, then a licensed professional is not necessary to confirm it. Most pedophiles are caught not by licensed professionals but by the human civilisation (they may at chance include professionals). Police do not take them to see a professional to have them diagnosed (not as far as I'm aware). Again, it's because it's not complex. It may have a complex REASON, however, but the reason here doesn't change the definition(s) nor the accounts made by doctors and psychologists throughout history. After all, it's how we have the information.
You keep trying to isolate the body from the child as if the child is not the attractor, yet you have mentioned already that this fantasy stems from the concept (you used "fact") that muscles are all the more impressive on children. Muscles are impressive on children, muscles are impressive on women, (I haven't said otherwise) but for someone to gain sexual pleasure is where I strongly disagree with you. And where I know you have distorted logic. This distortion is important in identifying because if it isn't pointed out, I would have to develop an equally faulty answer catering to the distortion, which is what you're expecting I do because you're using subjective "evidence".
"What I argue is that our case is not necessarily related to a pedophile-type pathology or a fantasy that directly concerns children (note that I say "not necessarily" and not "necessarily not").
Fact #1 : Our case take source in the female muscle fantasy, a fantasy related to the physical superiority of female persons over male persons thus upsetting the normal (or natural if it becomes surreal) order of things as defined in our society. The fact of being impressed by this physical superiority is also a driving force of this fantasy, the more this impresses the stronger the fantasy becomes.
Fact #2 : A fantasy, being tied to personal feelings related to unconsciousness, knows virtually no limits (unless the overkill becomes disgusting, which appeals to another feeling ending the fantasy). The fantasy is not aware of the limits linked to the age of the subject, whether the subject is 18 or 17, the fantasy does not know the difference, only personal conscience, personal morality and personal will allow to put limits (more or less difficult depending on the strength of the fantasy). (If we add the laws on majority that vary from one country to another, there is enough to disturb the fantasy).
Fact #3 : This one answers one of your questions in your previous comment : Yes, the muscles on children are more impressive than on adults, due to the undeniable fact that children are basically much weaker and more fragile than adults and that they cannot develop as many muscles as adults, this is a biological fact. It is therefore obvious that a child with the musculature and strength of an adult athlete is amazing, a child will automatically be more impressive than an adult with the same muscular characteristics. Age can therefore be a driver of this fantasy. A strong and muscular 18 year old girl is more impressive than a 22 year old woman who can be more impressive than a more mature woman with the same characteristics and a 17 year old girl is even more impressive (and from a certain age onwards, the process is reversed, on a 60 year old woman it will be more impressive than on a 40 year old woman) An impressive or surprising fact being a fact which upsets the standards, and the more this one upsets the standards, the more this one will be impressive or surprising. If this is the driving force behind a fantasy, the age of the subject necessarily plays a certain role, as long as we do not set limits ourselves (or as long as these limits do not conflict with another personal feeling).
Fact #4 : Muscles totally change the physical appearance and proportions of the subject. This can be a misleading element for the fantasy that does not know how to distinguish age (fact #2).
Fact #5 : In the majority of stories I have read featuring muscular and powerful underage girls, the approach to muscles and strength is exactly the same as for stories featuring muscular and powerful adult women, only the situation changes in relation to the age of the subject (necessarily the professional, family, and other friendly relationships, will not be the same for a 13 years old girl as for an adult woman) and the age is only used to emphasize her skills and characteristics, like "wow she is such an age and she is able to do such and such" or "wow she is such an age and she already has professional bodybuilder muscles". By the way Kylie is exactly that, at 12 years old she wins a junior bodybuilding contest for more 16 years old, and at 13 years old she wins Mr. Olympia, the strongest man in the world and fights against professionals."
These "facts" STILL do not develop your argument nor protest the idea that it's pedophilia. You have included another non-sequitur. It is pointless to develop an answer catering to something that isn't even on topic. And you keep using SUBJECTIVITY when you call these "facts". Again, this is based on your misconception surrounding objectivity, which I have already explained to you in detail on multiple occasions.
You are trying to mask the sexual gratification some members (and at this point, I think you're involved in this behavior) get by merely separating the body and the age, the fantasy and the child. You compare this loosely to that of nothing different than a grown adult woman with muscles, yet this goes against your idea that the muscles are more impressive on "children" and not "adult women" which you have later reiterated.
"These facts may be debatable for the most part, since I cannot prove them 100%, because they are mostly elements linked to human feelings, therefore of a psychic nature, which I have observed myself, there is nothing concrete to present, it is very difficult to prove, but they are no less objective facts and this constitutes a coherent and objective reasoning."
Again, you can't prove much at all in what you're saying. The stuff that can be "proven" isn't even helping your MAIN argument. You keep trying to get into the nitty gritty of the microscopic details that are by themselves different routes of conversation. They are not facts supporting you.
"In short, to conclude this point: Isn't our case based more on the fantasy linked to human persons of female sex who upset the societal or natural norms because of their muscular power, rather than on a fantasy directly linked to the childish condition of the subject?"
This has been your attempt of discussion and I have shot it down multiple times. In a normal case, where the subject is an adult, then yes. When the subject is a child, then low.
Let me give an example:
If a man watches child pornography but is attracted to the kink and the "kink alone" (let's say feet), then they are still attracted to the child. And, yes, this is prosecutable and still identified as pedophilia. And, yes, this is a common example. So, here, my argument is further strengthened based on laws that inhabit the world. Another fact.
You might try again: "OUR CASE IS DIFFERENT BECAUSE I TALKED TO BLA BLA BLA", but it doesn't matter. That's your view. It does not matter. It's a silly opinion that holds no ground in the long run. It is bad because I think you are still attracted to a child based on the evidence effected by the laws, psychologists, and experts in the field.
"However, our case being very varied, what I am saying does not apply to all the profiles, some may indeed be more related to a clinical pathology that could be identified as pedophilic, but this does not necessarily correspond to all the profiles in our case. It would be necessary to be able to study each profile one by one, to determine exactly what results from clinical cases linked to pedophilia or not."
However, it necessarily does mean you are attracted to a child. Already explained this. It's becoming a burden having to re-explain.
"My speech says that it is not necessarily this, which includes that I admit that I could be wrong and that it does not necessarily apply to all the cases of our subject."
It does apply. Already explained. You need to defend it now.
"So I'm not saying that there are not stories here that result from pedophilia cases, although not having read them, I can't confirm your statements, however these stories don't necessarily apply to all of our case, but only to certain profiles. So it is not a solid proof. Some people want certain stories to be deleted, this is only the result of the appreciation of these people. Some stories have been deleted, this is only the judgement of the moderators (it's like censorship on Youtube). Nothing here constitutes hard factual evidence, and even if it does, again, it only proves that some profiles are indeed the result of pedophilia, which I have never denied, but it does not necessarily correspond to all the profiles in our case.
Besides, I can't verify your statements since you don't give me any source. I don't know enough about the forum to confirm this."
Here it is. Do you see what's happening here? You have stated your subjective evidence as "fact" because you experienced it. However, when I share that I have witnessed forums detest underage characters, removal of stories, and various complaints, it's no longer hard factual evidence? And what do you mean by "even if it does"? How do you jump from one ideal to the other at the flick of a light switch?
Yes a lot of profiles are the result of pedophilia. All that involve sexualised children and underage characters set to cater to someone's kink.
Saradas doesn't allow links for whatever reason. And, plus, you haven't provided any sources either.
"You also have the arrogance to deflect important questions and not answer them when you don't have any arguments, claiming that "this kind of discussion is a juxtaposed, black and white argument" (for someone who sees life in black and white, this is quite comical). Of course there are gray areas (gray areas that you seem to take into account only when it suits you), that's like everything else, but to consider something unhealthy or bad, it has to lean more towards the darker grays than the lighter ones. What's the point of being offended if there's no harm or danger?
So what proves that our case can be a danger?
Because that's what it's all about, the danger that it can represent. If pedophilia is so decried (rightly) it's because of the danger it represents for our children, either physically or psychologically, a child victim of a pedophile can have very serious physical and psychological after-effects, for life, and even without that it's the child's innocence that can be in danger, and we believe that all pedophiles are a potential danger, that's where our moral values are formed. So the purpose of the thing is not so much to know if our case is a form of pedophilia or not, but if our case can constitute a real danger. Eventually, if this is to be considered a form of pedophilia, can this form of pedophilia not be so exceptional that it does not constitute any real danger? And if it does not constitute any danger, what is the harm? Prove to me that this is really wrong to the point of being offended and totally denigrating the thing.
This is the basis before judging anyone."
"You also have the arrogance to deflect important questions and not answer them when you don't have any arguments, claiming that "this kind of discussion is a juxtaposed, black and white argument" (for someone who sees life in black and white, this is quite comical). Of course there are gray areas (gray areas that you seem to take into account only when it suits you), that's like everything else, but to consider something unhealthy or bad, it has to lean more towards the darker grays than the lighter ones. What's the point of being offended if there's no harm or danger? "
My argument is and always has been that there were no gray areas surrounding pedophilia, even in the case of muscle fetish. There is no exception made. I have given my reasons. You keep trying to develop on points I have already refuted time and time again. You haven't actually argued against my point of view, but instead keep trying to build upon what is already irrelevant given our past discussions.
And then you go on a huge tangent about pedophilia and providing danger. Pedophilia is still pedophilia even when no direct danger is caused at the time. If someone watches child pornography, that's pedophilia. Also, nice try at the questioning strategy. I can tell you thought you got something across there. You probably still do.
"Besides, if pedophilia did not represent any danger, if it was possible to reconcile sex with children while preserving their innocence without it being disturbing to them, it would be accepted as much as homosexuality (under certain conditions for the preservation of the children of course) as it almost was at the beginning of the 80's if some psychologists had not fortunately put forward the dangers of pedophilia (then there was the Dutroux affair in the 90's which further emphasized the point). Today we would see the "P" of pedophile in the middle of LGBTQ+ letters"
I'm sorry, but here I'm going to have to place you in the "idiot" category. This is a pure hypothetical scenario that neither supports your main view nor delivers and message. It is yet another non-sequitur you have squeezed into the text. There is no point in trying to debate a scenario which doesn't exist in the same context of what you are debating, especially since it bears no relevant qualities and cannot be used as an example.
"Do you read what I write or are you just pretending to take parts of sentences out of context?
Here is what I wrote: "Possibly obesity, but child obesity is unfortunately not an exceptional characteristic, and those who fantasize about obesity are not looking for the same thing as admirers of female muscles, and transcribing this onto minor children is not going to add any extra value to their fantasy unless they are really pedophiles."
I was talking about child obesity adding no real value, not muscles. In short, muscles add real value to children compared to adults, obesity does not."
This is where the unsound grammar creates an ambiguous statement. There is no clear indication of what "this" refers to. Hence, why I got confused. The last subject made was "admirers of female muscles", so I had grammatically presumed you were referring to this admiration still.
Again, not a strawman.
"And as long as there is an exchange of opinions and arguments on the same theme, it is a debate (unless "debate" does not have the same meaning in English as in French). As for the fact that my opinion is incoherent, it is only your appreciation, there is nothing factual."
Not necessarily. If you have an uninformed opinion marred by subjective opinions, then you do not have a side in a debate, and thus do not have a position to stand by. You do, however, constitute a main element of an "argument". Again, debates need factual accuracy and logical consistency, which you lack heavily, especially in logic. And I have pointed out your many inconsistencies.
"And being objective doesn't necessarily mean bringing facts, it also means knowing how to analyze and consider all the elements brought in a discussion, whether they are factual or not, objective or subjective. What you seem to be unable to do, you only ask for concrete facts on a subject which is essentially based on human feelings and for which it is consequently very difficult to bring concrete facts, these facts exist but they are hardly demonstrable (unless maybe you really do a complete and deep investigation, but well we are not here for that either, and even then it is not even sure that you can really bring 100% demonstrable facts), and you use the flaws to your advantage to prove that you are right. There is nothing objective about debating in this way."
Objective, definition: (of a person or their judgement) not influenced by personal feelings or opinions in considering and representing facts. [or] not dependent on the mind for existence; actual.
So, you're just wrong. There is no disputing it. You can make up as many meanings as you want, but you're just doing it to solidify your position because you know you're a subjective, inconsistent mess. And that makes sense, you're human: you aren't sure how to express your logic. But it definitely is arrogant for you to make up a meaning for a well-known word and use it as a defense.
"And I'm not too convinced either by your explanation of what you are doing in this topic. Kylie is the main subject from the first chapter of a story that is 78 chapters long on 36 pages from 2019 to 2021. And you didn't have to wait for Superman before she became overpowered, could challenge any of the strongest or most muscular adult males, and adult females started getting excited about her muscular body. Not to mention that Allison has had her eye on Kylies since the first chapter. Anyway, even if you've been following the story from the beginning (I'd say it's even worse), one wonders what the hell you're still doing here if you don't like fantasy stories about muscular and overpowered underage girls."
Again, I really don't care if you're convinced. I saw superman and read the story. That's it. Nothing to do with children.
"And I'm not trying to analyze your character, I'm just wondering what the hell you're doing here, it's a question I've been asking myself since the beginning of our conversation and I'm just asking you now."
Well, no, you did conduct a psychological analysis. I've answered your question already.
"And I never said that pedophilia is a feeling that you repress because I find you arrogant or that opposing pedophilia is arrogance, on the contrary, I have never been in favor of pedophilia, this is as repugnant to me as anyone else. I just try to be a little more open on the subject than you are. I try to step back from my feelings on the subject, unlike you. And I don't consider that our case is necessarily pedophilia, and if we can be considered as a form of pedophiles, I think that it remains a case apart (depending on the profiles of our case). In short, if you are arrogant for me, it is not because you repress pedophilia nor because you oppose my point of view, but because of everything I mentioned above, and more concretely it is because of the way you oppose it, and not because you oppose it."
I agree here, but you need to be more careful with your words. Yes, the translator may alter some things, but it certainly doesn't help in situations like these.
"So in fact, me what I see is just an obnoxious, pretentious, arrogant and unpleasant person who only wants to see the surface of things and who only tries to prove that he is right with a lot of bad faith by dismantling as much as possible the arguments of the other person without analyzing objectively the elements that are brought to him whether they are factual or not. Your goal is not to try to understand my point of view but to dismantle it to prove that you are right. And nothing you say really advances the debate (or conversation, whatever you call it)."
Facts don't care about your feelings. You can see me as whatever you like. The reason the debate hasn't "advanced" (this just shows you don't know how debates work) is because you have been stuck on the same train of thought for the past few days. I have dismantled everything you said and shown that your view is not valid yet you still want to consider it so. You again use personal experience to back yourself up when it doesn't matter.
Psychology is a broad topic, a very broad one; however, we know a lot about certain aspects. Pedophilia is one of those aspects. It does not and should not need an in-depth analysis to identify a pedophile. If you wanted more depth in the discussion, then maybe you should have broken out of your barrier and provided substance of objectivity to work with. Otherwise, you're grounded and pushing your own wheels via opinions and observations online.
"On that note I'd like to get this debate (or conversation, whatever you call it) over with as quickly as possible because I'd much rather talk about Kylie's story than this, this was originally a 3 or 4 line apart on my opinion of the story, which you jumped on, and it's become a long, drawn out debate (or conversation) with comments as long as a chapter of the story."
Again, not a debate. Call it what you want, but you haven't a clue how debates work.
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You're a pain, ??? I'm tired of this conversation that seems to have no end, and that wastes my time, you mix everything up, you distort everything, you make absurd comparisons, it's crazy. I know that the language and the fact that I use an automatic translator don't help, but still, it's abusive.
You can't even put the sentences and quotes into the context of the conversation.
When you answer me about childhood obesity by quoting a piece of a sentence and I answer you by quoting what I had written just before the piece you are quoting, of course it is still related to childhood obesity and not to female muscles. It has nothing to do with grammar, just look at the context.
It shows that everything I've said since the beginning is interpreted at your whim.
From then on, there is no point in discussing, we are just going in circles, nothing is going on, there is no listening.
You make easy things like comparing my argument with something as absurd as the existence of unicorns. Making such crude comparisons is called being a straw man. And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable, as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it.
And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective.
Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity".
You are still comparing the incomparable. Children's feet look quite different from adults' feet and this does not add any value to the foot fetish. While the muscles entirely change the physical appearance of the body and add value to the muscle fantasy in that a muscular child is much more impressive than an adult with the same musculature. These are indisputable facts related to physiognomy and biology as well as to the definition of the word "impressive".
And I never said that this was not impressive on adult women (on the contrary), I only said that it was more impressive on younger girls, and that therefore a young age gives an added value to this fantasy which is very often partly linked to the impressionable. Please don't distort my words.
And "Sexual feelings directed towards children" is indeed the definition of pedophilia but the question I've been asking since the beginning is: does this necessarily define our case? To be more exact, does this necessarily define all the profiles in our case? Couldn't it simply be for some profiles (more or less numerous) "sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier"? Because the fact that you give this definition to all the profiles in our case, results only from your appreciation, which makes it a subjectivity, which you reproach me since the beginning.
And yes, I continue to dissociate the child's body with this fantasy, because indeed the child's body is not necessarily the attractor for all the profiles in our case. It may be that it is only the young age (and not the body) that is a means (and not the attractor) of sublimating the fantasy of female muscles, since this fantasy is very often linked in part to the impressionable and a young age makes this more impressionable. So of course it is quite subjective, I grant you, but a much wider subjectivity than yours taking into account many elements and facts. And although it can't give 100% certainty, there are enough elements to consider and think about it, or at least to sow doubt. Your subjectivity is based on one element: the definition of pedophile that you consider appropriate to all the profiles in our case.
And when you say that there are no grey areas in pedophilia, it shows how narrow your mind is, grey areas are everywhere, life is like that.
As for my so-called hypothetical scenario, it is based on historical facts. In the early 80's, there were many political debates to consider pedophilia as a sexuality as well as homosexuality, but some psychologists saved the situation by pointing out the dangers of pedophilia.
On the other hand, if the danger is non-existent, what is the point of decrying it?
But once again you are only trying to divert the subject so that you don't have to answer it because you have no argument on it.
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:laugh:
But I hope it's over soon because I'm a little tired of it. Can't wait for the end credits! (after that, it could be like the Marvel movies, there could be a post-credits scene :dance:)
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You're a pain, ??? I'm tired of this conversation that seems to have no end, and that wastes my time, you mix everything up, you distort everything, you make absurd comparisons, it's crazy. I know that the language and the fact that I use an automatic translator don't help, but still, it's abusive.
You can't even put the sentences and quotes into the context of the conversation.
When you answer me about childhood obesity by quoting a piece of a sentence and I answer you by quoting what I had written just before the piece you are quoting, of course it is still related to childhood obesity and not to female muscles. It has nothing to do with grammar, just look at the context.
It shows that everything I've said since the beginning is interpreted at your whim.
From then on, there is no point in discussing, we are just going in circles, nothing is going on, there is no listening.
You make easy things like comparing my argument with something as absurd as the existence of unicorns. Making such crude comparisons is called being a straw man. And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable, as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it.
And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective.
Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity".
You are still comparing the incomparable. Children's feet look quite different from adults' feet and this does not add any value to the foot fetish. While the muscles entirely change the physical appearance of the body and add value to the muscle fantasy in that a muscular child is much more impressive than an adult with the same musculature. These are indisputable facts related to physiognomy and biology as well as to the definition of the word "impressive".
And I never said that this was not impressive on adult women (on the contrary), I only said that it was more impressive on younger girls, and that therefore a young age gives an added value to this fantasy which is very often partly linked to the impressionable. Please don't distort my words.
And "Sexual feelings directed towards children" is indeed the definition of pedophilia but the question I've been asking since the beginning is: does this necessarily define our case? To be more exact, does this necessarily define all the profiles in our case? Couldn't it simply be for some profiles (more or less numerous) "sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier"? Because the fact that you give this definition to all the profiles in our case, results only from your appreciation, which makes it a subjectivity, which you reproach me since the beginning.
And yes, I continue to dissociate the child's body with this fantasy, because indeed the child's body is not necessarily the attractor for all the profiles in our case. It may be that it is only the young age (and not the body) that is a means (and not the attractor) of sublimating the fantasy of female muscles, since this fantasy is very often linked in part to the impressionable and a young age makes this more impressionable. So of course it is quite subjective, I grant you, but a much wider subjectivity than yours taking into account many elements and facts. And although it can't give 100% certainty, there are enough elements to consider and think about it, or at least to sow doubt. Your subjectivity is based on one element: the definition of pedophile that you consider appropriate to all the profiles in our case.
And when you say that there are no grey areas in pedophilia, it shows how narrow your mind is, grey areas are everywhere, life is like that.
As for my so-called hypothetical scenario, it is based on historical facts. In the early 80's, there were many political debates to consider pedophilia as a sexuality as well as homosexuality, but some psychologists saved the situation by pointing out the dangers of pedophilia.
On the other hand, if the danger is non-existent, what is the point of decrying it?
But once again you are only trying to divert the subject so that you don't have to answer it because you have no argument on it.
"You're a pain, ??? I'm tired of this conversation that seems to have no end, and that wastes my time, you mix everything up, you distort everything, you make absurd comparisons, it's crazy. I know that the language and the fact that I use an automatic translator don't help, but still, it's abusive."
You're wasting your own time if anything. You keep banking on the same ideals. There's not much to say here because you have a highly distorted view of psychology as a whole. I don't think any amount of evidence, even if it was thrown right in your face, would be enough to reel you out of your pit of malformed thought.
"You can't even put the sentences and quotes into the context of the conversation.
When you answer me about childhood obesity by quoting a piece of a sentence and I answer you by quoting what I had written just before the piece you are quoting, of course it is still related to childhood obesity and not to female muscles. It has nothing to do with grammar, just look at the context.
It shows that everything I've said since the beginning is interpreted at your whim."
No, actually, it is an ambiguous statement. Your grammar is terrible at times so it is difficult to know which are the subjects and what your to whom your determiners are referring. In this case, it was you messing up on grammar. And given your logical inconsistencies, I saw it as another inconsistency.
"You make easy things like comparing my argument with something as absurd as the existence of unicorns. Making such crude comparisons is called being a straw man. And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable, as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it.
And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective.
Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity"."
It's not a stawman. A strawman is an intentional misrepresentation of your argument. Here, I use an example of the same scenario which must be applicable in order for your logic to make sense. A strawman is not "Hey, you used an example of my logic in another example! How dare you!"
And I'm happy you see it as easy. It's not difficult disproving your logic at all, and what better way to do it than with a grade-A example from the textbooks.
" And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable"
Definition of fact: "a thing that is known or proved to be true."
Known to be true or proved to be true. One person saying that unicorns exist does not make the existence of unicorns a fact. You're essentially leaning on the "burden of proof", which is a fallacy that suggests: "because we cannot prove something doesn't exist, then we can't rule out that it doesn't exist." Unicorns don't exist, that is a fact in the same way that it is a fact that there aren't invisible cookies walking among us.
Your logic here is completely idiotic, and at this point I know I'm talking to a dense, uneducated man.
" as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it."
It's not "incredible" because you made this up completely. It does not become a fact that fire-breathing dragons exist merely because I say I saw one last Tuesday. That is completely ridiculous, and if you're using that sort of logic, nothing will ever go into your head. For a fact to become a fact it must have something to prove it. The only exception is with "known" ideas. For example: It is a fact that World War 2 happened, given historical documentation and overwhelming evidence as well as connections today, such as soldiers. For proven facts: I can prove to you that X is heavier than Y using this scale.
So, no, you're just a moron. When you can't prove something at all, then it is not a fact. You CAN prove something is a photo of you given documentation or overwhelming evidence. For example, your birth photo: your parents can confirm, the doctor can, the nurses can, the documents in the hospital can. These are the available body of facts and/or information that indicate a belief of proposition is true or valid. So, you're example is still pretty bad. If you had your ID taken, for example, you can get information on that as well. If you take a random photo, you can see what device it was taken on, where (visual), fingerprints on the device it was taken with, the time it was taken. Your idea is that, because I can't prove that that isn't someone who looks identical to you and possesses all the same features and DNA, then it makes it unprovable that it is you. That is what is known as the "burden of truth", a common fallacy that has existed for centuries and isn't applicable at all. I can tell that you genuinely believed that this sort of example hasn't been discussed already, which is hilarious and shows how uneducated you are.
"And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective."
Psychology is the "scientific study of the human mind and its functions, especially those affecting behaviour in a given context." Like any other field, it has provable facts. However, because the human mind is complex, the facts may not exist for everyone, of course. For example: people act like this when this happens. Of course this isn't an objective fact. Everyone reacts differently to different things. However, there are PROVABLE facts about the human mind, one of which is pedophilia.
You say there are grey areas. But I'd love for you to give a hard example of where an adult can have sexual feelings directed towards a child and not be considered a pedophile. Show me the grey area in pedophilia, and then explain why it's necessary in supporting your view. Otherwise, don't speak about it.
"Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity"."
Hold on a minute: I mentioned these forums to support my view of "many of us are not attracted to muscles on a child", and I used the forums on this site and on others as an example for THAT particular argument. My evidence there was not to disprove your entire debate about grey areas in pedophilia in regards to muscle fetish, it was only to prove that many users actually weren't sharing the same view as you. Likewise, I also mention that given humanity's view of pedophilia as a whole, then they don't agree with you either, because I have argued since the very start that what you were referring to is indeed pedophilia based on the definition(s) around the globe (which are facts). Because your descriptions of psychology still fit into the category of pedophilia, which I have already explained why, then people attracted to the muscles on a child are still pedophiles, granted they are adults.
"You are still comparing the incomparable. Children's feet look quite different from adults' feet and this does not add any value to the foot fetish. While the muscles entirely change the physical appearance of the body and add value to the muscle fantasy in that a muscular child is much more impressive than an adult with the same musculature. These are indisputable facts related to physiognomy and biology as well as to the definition of the word "impressive"."
Actually, no I'm not. The difference between adult's feet and children's feet is that adult's feet are larger and have denser bones. If an adult has feet similar to a child, and the adult is attracted to the feet, then they are not a pedophile because that feature is possessed by an adult (and this example is quite common. Some people quite literally have "baby feet" or "children's feet", which are just incredibly small feet). When the feature, let's say a child has a more adult look to their feet, then the person attracted to the feature is a pedophile because they have a sexual feeling directed towards a characteristic possessed by a child.
You, of course, are too focused on "splitting hairs" because you're trying to justify well-known examples and facts. I can give much more mind you. This is just a common one, which I can tell stumped you given this horrendous response.
"And I never said that this was not impressive on adult women (on the contrary), I only said that it was more impressive on younger girls, and that therefore a young age gives an added value to this fantasy which is very often partly linked to the impressionable. Please don't distort my words."
Again, this is assuming something is correct when I have already dismantled it. You have not defended it as of yet. You say a young age gives an added value to this "fantasy".
First of all, context is very important here:
We're not talking simply "fantasy", we're talking "sexual fantasy". When you word it as "fantasy", you are ignoring the fundamentals of your own argument, which is the sexual attraction to the muscles. So, here, I'm not distorting your words, I'm giving the context so you don't get away scot free with simply saying, "muscles are more impressive on children than they are on adults". That would not support your argument at all. It would instead make a simple observation of the rarity of muscles on children as opposed to the sexual attraction to the muscles on a child, which is what we are discussing. You can't pull a fast one on me, and I say that humorously.
"And "Sexual feelings directed towards children" is indeed the definition of pedophilia but the question I've been asking since the beginning is: does this necessarily define our case? To be more exact, does this necessarily define all the profiles in our case? Couldn't it simply be for some profiles (more or less numerous) "sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier"? Because the fact that you give this definition to all the profiles in our case, results only from your appreciation, which makes it a subjectivity, which you reproach me since the beginning.
And yes, I continue to dissociate the child's body with this fantasy, because indeed the child's body is not necessarily the attractor for all the profiles in our case. It may be that it is only the young age (and not the body) that is a means (and not the attractor) of sublimating the fantasy of female muscles, since this fantasy is very often linked in part to the impressionable and a young age makes this more impressionable. So of course it is quite subjective, I grant you, but a much wider subjectivity than yours taking into account many elements and facts. And although it can't give 100% certainty, there are enough elements to consider and think about it, or at least to sow doubt. Your subjectivity is based on one element: the definition of pedophile that you consider appropriate to all the profiles in our case. "
"sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier""
This has been your argument, which I have disproved already, and which you have not defended objectively. Again, objectivity is important here, because you have neither proven that there is a grey area at play here (because it still falls into the definition of pedophilia, which you have mentioned already that it may be considered pedophilia by the actual definition). In this psychological discussion, we are basing it around "pedophilia", which has its objective stance and by which I have stood since the beginning. You haven't disproved my claim; instead, you threw a hissy fit because I wasn't going "deeper" into the microscopics (and I did by the way) that in no way support your massive claim. When I went into the small details you mentioned, I destroyed them completely using appropriate examples and evidence (and so far, the evidence is based on objectivity surrounding pedophilia and society's confirmation of pedophilia). On the other hand, you struck back with personal experience, blind statements to represent a whole, and non-sequiturs. You also ignore some responses that you get thrown under the bus on, which shows that you aren't able to come back from them. This is a process of narrowing your thought down until your completely at a loss. And I'm happy to do that.
"And when you say that there are no grey areas in pedophilia, it shows how narrow your mind is, grey areas are everywhere, life is like that."
Again, show me an example where an adult sexually attracted to a child in this day and age may not be considered pedophilia. I'm all ears. And then show me how it supports your view in general.
"As for my so-called hypothetical scenario, it is based on historical facts. In the early 80's, there were many political debates to consider pedophilia as a sexuality as well as homosexuality, but some psychologists saved the situation by pointing out the dangers of pedophilia.
On the other hand, if the danger is non-existent, what is the point of decrying it?
But once again you are only trying to divert the subject so that you don't have to answer it because you have no argument on it."
Hold on a minute: you can't throw more non-sequiturs into the discussion. I have already mentioned that this example doesn't support your main argument at all. Merely because a discussion was had about it, doesn't justify in any way this form of pedophilia. So there is no point bringing up this useless example.
Not only this, but you're essentially admitting that something isn't necessarily considered paedophilia if there's no direct danger involved. I have already given my example with child pornography, which links directly to what you're saying, and how that is still considered paedophilia despite there being no direct danger to a child at that given time. A lot of what makes paedophilia a confirmed case is that there is the potential risks pedophiles pose to society, not only to children, but to parents. To sit and say there is no point in denouncing something when there is a high risk posed under the law is absolutely idiotic. It also plays under the little game you're having about psychology and how not everyone is the same. It simply doesn't matter. If someone is caught with child pornography, they are prosecuted because of the danger they pose to society.
I'm sorry, but discussing things with you is like talking to a brick wall. Nothing is going into that little mind of yours because you keep grasping at concepts that lean too much on your little opinions as opposed to approaching the broader picture. The broader picture, in this case, is that pedophilia is the sexual feelings directed towards children. When you try to isolate certain elements, such as the body from the child, you are creating a situation where sexual desire is focused on a particular element. However, I have already argued that it is still considered pedophilia because the features are possessed by a child, which is a sexual feeling directed towards a child, thus confirming the case.
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I'm honestly glad someone's reading this. If you would like to add anything, please feel free to do so. :)
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"You're a pain, ??? I'm tired of this conversation that seems to have no end, and that wastes my time, you mix everything up, you distort everything, you make absurd comparisons, it's crazy. I know that the language and the fact that I use an automatic translator don't help, but still, it's abusive."
You're wasting your own time if anything. You keep banking on the same ideals. There's not much to say here because you have a highly distorted view of psychology as a whole. I don't think any amount of evidence, even if it was thrown right in your face, would be enough to reel you out of your pit of malformed thought.
"You can't even put the sentences and quotes into the context of the conversation.
When you answer me about childhood obesity by quoting a piece of a sentence and I answer you by quoting what I had written just before the piece you are quoting, of course it is still related to childhood obesity and not to female muscles. It has nothing to do with grammar, just look at the context.
It shows that everything I've said since the beginning is interpreted at your whim."
No, actually, it is an ambiguous statement. Your grammar is terrible at times so it is difficult to know which are the subjects and what your to whom your determiners are referring. In this case, it was you messing up on grammar. And given your logical inconsistencies, I saw it as another inconsistency.
"You make easy things like comparing my argument with something as absurd as the existence of unicorns. Making such crude comparisons is called being a straw man. And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable, as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it.
And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective.
Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity"."
It's not a stawman. A strawman is an intentional misrepresentation of your argument. Here, I use an example of the same scenario which must be applicable in order for your logic to make sense. A strawman is not "Hey, you used an example of my logic in another example! How dare you!"
And I'm happy you see it as easy. It's not difficult disproving your logic at all, and what better way to do it than with a grade-A example from the textbooks.
" And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable"
Definition of fact: "a thing that is known or proved to be true."
Known to be true or proved to be true. One person saying that unicorns exist does not make the existence of unicorns a fact. You're essentially leaning on the "burden of proof", which is a fallacy that suggests: "because we cannot prove something doesn't exist, then we can't rule out that it doesn't exist." Unicorns don't exist, that is a fact in the same way that it is a fact that there aren't invisible cookies walking among us.
Your logic here is completely idiotic, and at this point I know I'm talking to a dense, uneducated man.
" as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it."
It's not "incredible" because you made this up completely. It does not become a fact that fire-breathing dragons exist merely because I say I saw one last Tuesday. That is completely ridiculous, and if you're using that sort of logic, nothing will ever go into your head. For a fact to become a fact it must have something to prove it. The only exception is with "known" ideas. For example: It is a fact that World War 2 happened, given historical documentation and overwhelming evidence as well as connections today, such as soldiers. For proven facts: I can prove to you that X is heavier than Y using this scale.
So, no, you're just a moron. When you can't prove something at all, then it is not a fact. You CAN prove something is a photo of you given documentation or overwhelming evidence. For example, your birth photo: your parents can confirm, the doctor can, the nurses can, the documents in the hospital can. These are the available body of facts and/or information that indicate a belief of proposition is true or valid. So, you're example is still pretty bad. If you had your ID taken, for example, you can get information on that as well. If you take a random photo, you can see what device it was taken on, where (visual), fingerprints on the device it was taken with, the time it was taken. Your idea is that, because I can't prove that that isn't someone who looks identical to you and possesses all the same features and DNA, then it makes it unprovable that it is you. That is what is known as the "burden of truth", a common fallacy that has existed for centuries and isn't applicable at all. I can tell that you genuinely believed that this sort of example hasn't been discussed already, which is hilarious and shows how uneducated you are.
"And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective."
Psychology is the "scientific study of the human mind and its functions, especially those affecting behaviour in a given context." Like any other field, it has provable facts. However, because the human mind is complex, the facts may not exist for everyone, of course. For example: people act like this when this happens. Of course this isn't an objective fact. Everyone reacts differently to different things. However, there are PROVABLE facts about the human mind, one of which is pedophilia.
You say there are grey areas. But I'd love for you to give a hard example of where an adult can have sexual feelings directed towards a child and not be considered a pedophile. Show me the grey area in pedophilia, and then explain why it's necessary in supporting your view. Otherwise, don't speak about it.
"Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity"."
Hold on a minute: I mentioned these forums to support my view of "many of us are not attracted to muscles on a child", and I used the forums on this site and on others as an example for THAT particular argument. My evidence there was not to disprove your entire debate about grey areas in pedophilia in regards to muscle fetish, it was only to prove that many users actually weren't sharing the same view as you. Likewise, I also mention that given humanity's view of pedophilia as a whole, then they don't agree with you either, because I have argued since the very start that what you were referring to is indeed pedophilia based on the definition(s) around the globe (which are facts). Because your descriptions of psychology still fit into the category of pedophilia, which I have already explained why, then people attracted to the muscles on a child are still pedophiles, granted they are adults.
"You are still comparing the incomparable. Children's feet look quite different from adults' feet and this does not add any value to the foot fetish. While the muscles entirely change the physical appearance of the body and add value to the muscle fantasy in that a muscular child is much more impressive than an adult with the same musculature. These are indisputable facts related to physiognomy and biology as well as to the definition of the word "impressive"."
Actually, no I'm not. The difference between adult's feet and children's feet is that adult's feet are larger and have denser bones. If an adult has feet similar to a child, and the adult is attracted to the feet, then they are not a pedophile because that feature is possessed by an adult (and this example is quite common. Some people quite literally have "baby feet" or "children's feet", which are just incredibly small feet). When the feature, let's say a child has a more adult look to their feet, then the person attracted to the feature is a pedophile because they have a sexual feeling directed towards a characteristic possessed by a child.
You, of course, are too focused on "splitting hairs" because you're trying to justify well-known examples and facts. I can give much more mind you. This is just a common one, which I can tell stumped you given this horrendous response.
"And I never said that this was not impressive on adult women (on the contrary), I only said that it was more impressive on younger girls, and that therefore a young age gives an added value to this fantasy which is very often partly linked to the impressionable. Please don't distort my words."
Again, this is assuming something is correct when I have already dismantled it. You have not defended it as of yet. You say a young age gives an added value to this "fantasy".
First of all, context is very important here:
We're not talking simply "fantasy", we're talking "sexual fantasy". When you word it as "fantasy", you are ignoring the fundamentals of your own argument, which is the sexual attraction to the muscles. So, here, I'm not distorting your words, I'm giving the context so you don't get away scot free with simply saying, "muscles are more impressive on children than they are on adults". That would not support your argument at all. It would instead make a simple observation of the rarity of muscles on children as opposed to the sexual attraction to the muscles on a child, which is what we are discussing. You can't pull a fast one on me, and I say that humorously.
"And "Sexual feelings directed towards children" is indeed the definition of pedophilia but the question I've been asking since the beginning is: does this necessarily define our case? To be more exact, does this necessarily define all the profiles in our case? Couldn't it simply be for some profiles (more or less numerous) "sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier"? Because the fact that you give this definition to all the profiles in our case, results only from your appreciation, which makes it a subjectivity, which you reproach me since the beginning.
And yes, I continue to dissociate the child's body with this fantasy, because indeed the child's body is not necessarily the attractor for all the profiles in our case. It may be that it is only the young age (and not the body) that is a means (and not the attractor) of sublimating the fantasy of female muscles, since this fantasy is very often linked in part to the impressionable and a young age makes this more impressionable. So of course it is quite subjective, I grant you, but a much wider subjectivity than yours taking into account many elements and facts. And although it can't give 100% certainty, there are enough elements to consider and think about it, or at least to sow doubt. Your subjectivity is based on one element: the definition of pedophile that you consider appropriate to all the profiles in our case. "
"sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier""
This has been your argument, which I have disproved already, and which you have not defended objectively. Again, objectivity is important here, because you have neither proven that there is a grey area at play here (because it still falls into the definition of pedophilia, which you have mentioned already that it may be considered pedophilia by the actual definition). In this psychological discussion, we are basing it around "pedophilia", which has its objective stance and by which I have stood since the beginning. You haven't disproved my claim; instead, you threw a hissy fit because I wasn't going "deeper" into the microscopics (and I did by the way) that in no way support your massive claim. When I went into the small details you mentioned, I destroyed them completely using appropriate examples and evidence (and so far, the evidence is based on objectivity surrounding pedophilia and society's confirmation of pedophilia). On the other hand, you struck back with personal experience, blind statements to represent a whole, and non-sequiturs. You also ignore some responses that you get thrown under the bus on, which shows that you aren't able to come back from them. This is a process of narrowing your thought down until your completely at a loss. And I'm happy to do that.
"And when you say that there are no grey areas in pedophilia, it shows how narrow your mind is, grey areas are everywhere, life is like that."
Again, show me an example where an adult sexually attracted to a child in this day and age may not be considered pedophilia. I'm all ears. And then show me how it supports your view in general.
"As for my so-called hypothetical scenario, it is based on historical facts. In the early 80's, there were many political debates to consider pedophilia as a sexuality as well as homosexuality, but some psychologists saved the situation by pointing out the dangers of pedophilia.
On the other hand, if the danger is non-existent, what is the point of decrying it?
But once again you are only trying to divert the subject so that you don't have to answer it because you have no argument on it."
Hold on a minute: you can't throw more non-sequiturs into the discussion. I have already mentioned that this example doesn't support your main argument at all. Merely because a discussion was had about it, doesn't justify in any way this form of pedophilia. So there is no point bringing up this useless example.
Not only this, but you're essentially admitting that something isn't necessarily considered paedophilia if there's no direct danger involved. I have already given my example with child pornography, which links directly to what you're saying, and how that is still considered paedophilia despite there being no direct danger to a child at that given time. A lot of what makes paedophilia a confirmed case is that there is the potential risks pedophiles pose to society, not only to children, but to parents. To sit and say there is no point in denouncing something when there is a high risk posed under the law is absolutely idiotic. It also plays under the little game you're having about psychology and how not everyone is the same. It simply doesn't matter. If someone is caught with child pornography, they are prosecuted because of the danger they pose to society.
I'm sorry, but discussing things with you is like talking to a brick wall. Nothing is going into that little mind of yours because you keep grasping at concepts that lean too much on your little opinions as opposed to approaching the broader picture. The broader picture, in this case, is that pedophilia is the sexual feelings directed towards children. When you try to isolate certain elements, such as the body from the child, you are creating a situation where sexual desire is focused on a particular element. However, I have already argued that it is still considered pedophilia because the features are possessed by a child, which is a sexual feeling directed towards a child, thus confirming the case.
"discussing things with you is like talking to a brick wall. Nothing is going into that little mind of yours"
I feel exactly the same way about you. You're not even brick, you're experimental reinforced concrete that even Kylie couldn't get through! :-[
If everyone was like you, content with only the known, we would still be in the stone age. It is by exploring the unknown that man advances and that the unknown becomes known.
Moreover, even in science, which is one of the areas where the most facts are used, we are not satisfied with the known, and the known is always considered as unknown, because science is always in motion, the known can always be questioned by new scientific data. No scientist will say that something is 100% certain, there are always grey areas in science (as in life). In science one cannot demonstrate that a thing does not exist, one can only demonstrate that a thing exists, however as long as it has not been demonstrated it is considered non-existent, but no scientist will tell you with certainty that such and such a thing does not exist.
A fact is indeed by definition something known, except that what is known is not necessarily known by everybody, it is enough that it is known by only one person for it to be a fact. A fact is necessarily demonstrable but some facts are more easily demonstrable than others.
Let's go back to our unicorn, if this unicorn is real, we should be able to demonstrate that it exists, however to be able to demonstrate it, we will have to organize an expedition to the place where it was supposed to be observed the first time, and if it is a very rare animal, it will be very difficult to be able to observe it a second time to confirm the first observation. However, for the person who observed it the first time, its existence is a fact, even if it has not yet been proven, and he is no less objective when he claims to have observed this animal. So there is no subjectivity.
It's the same for the photo, to prove that it's me, you'll have to do an investigation because behind a forum where I'm only a pseudo for you, it will be difficult to prove that it's really me on the photo. The easiest way would be video conferencing, but you still need to have the equipment for that, for example I don't have a webcam, but I eventually have a smartphone, today almost everyone has a smartphone, but 10 years ago it was not the case. Without a webcam, smartphone or anything else, it's going to be hard to prove that a photo is well oneself to someone on the internet who doesn't know us. Not impossible but difficult.
This is exactly the case with the facts I use in our conversation, they are facts that are difficult to demonstrate but they are still facts that I have observed, I am completely objective when I talk about these facts. On the other hand, since I can't prove them to you, you don't have to accept them, but they are still facts.
On the other hand, you have not refuted anything since the beginning of our conversation, you have not proved anything. Everything you say does not prove that what I say is wrong, you only doubt what I say.
As for your feet, I'm sorry but a child's foot doesn't have quite the same visual aspect, it's not only the size that changes, there are some small differences visually, even if it's globally the same shape, you can recognize a child's foot, compared to an adult's foot. A child's foot has a softer shape than an adult's foot, and the proportions are not quite the same, compared to the ankles, ears and all the rest. But even without that, assuming you can't tell the difference between an adult's and a child's feet, there's nothing more common than a foot, it's something everyone has (unless they have both feet amputated or a birth defect). A normally constituted child has two feet, as well as for all human persons children or adults, it is part of the normal morphology of any child or human person children or adults. And it doesn't matter any additional value compared to an adult or to the foot fetish (except possibly to pedophiles who are interested in children's feet). The same cannot be said for muscles, as I have already explained over and over again (very different and uncommon physical aspect + added value of the fact that it is more impressive on a child than an adult).
Then in your example you were also talking about child pornography, while I'm just talking about fantasies, sexual of course, but without going into pornography, child pornography is totally unnamable and disgusting, and it's to be condemned at all costs.
And as usual you distort my words:
Not only this, but you're essentially admitting that something isn't necessarily considered paedophilia if there's no direct danger involved.
I never said such a thing. All I said was that even if you admit that this is paedophilia, you still have to prove that it could be a potential direct or indirect danger. And so far you've only tried to avoid the question so you don't have to answer it. At first you simply ignored it, but since I insisted on the question, you always find an excuse not to answer it (it's quite funny how you try to divert the question so as not to have to answer it).
Now I'm going to give you a little schematic scenario.
Imagine a guy who has never had any sexual feelings towards a single child (or underage girl). He is therefore not a pedophile. However, his thing is female muscles (like everyone else here on this forum), that's what turns him on, and what turns him on most of all is being impressed by female muscles and the power of them. The more impressed he is, the more it turns him on. So he is always looking for the most impressive possible in his sexual fantasies (so far I think many people here will recognize themselves). Until the day he realizes that age is also a factor in his fantasy of being more and more impressed by female muscles and their power. Indeed, the younger the subject of his fantasies is, the more it will impress him and the more it will excite him. At the beginning he will limit himself to 18 years old minimum to stay in the politically correct and within the framework of the law for the majority (for the majority of the countries of which France), but in his search of the always more impressive, he will be pushed to nibble more and more this limit because the younger the age is, the more it will impress him and excite him. 17 years old, 16 years old then 15 years old. He is a little ashamed of it but he tells himself that we are still in the sexual majority, so he tells himself that he will never go further in his sexual fantasies, except that he wants more and more, more and more impressive, so it will continue. 14 years, 13 years, etc. But still, he has never had any sexual feelings towards a child or an underage girl apart from his fantasy about increasingly impressive female muscles.
Does this scenario seem so unlikely to you?
Well, in reality most people will say that it's nothing more than admiration without any sexual desire, but since it's a projection of their sexual fantasy of female muscles on underage girls one can still doubt, if deep down, or at least subconsciously, if there isn't a little sexual desire they don't want to admit. Besides, I see a lot of artists of female muscle who usually make muscular and powerful adult women and who from time to time, exceptionally, will make a muscular and powerful underage girl, given their fantasy of female muscles, I doubt that this is harmless. After, I can always be wrong, but when we see their fantasies, the doubt is still allowed. This is not a judgment but only an observation and I do not assert anything ^^
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PS : For your information :
L’épouvantail (en anglais : straw man, littéralement « homme de paille ») est un sophisme ou un paralogisme qui consiste à présenter la position de son adversaire de façon exagérée.
La technique de l'épouvantail consiste à déformer la position de l'adversaire en lui attribuant un argument facilement réfutable.
Il est possible de créer un argument épouvantail de différentes manières :
- Prendre une partie des arguments de son contradicteur, réfuter cette partie et prétendre que l'on a réfuté l'ensemble des arguments.
- Présenter les arguments de son opposant dans une forme faible, les réfuter et prétendre que les arguments originaux ont été réfutés. Pour atteindre ce but, on peut notamment prendre les arguments originaux et les séparer du contexte dans lequel ils ont été exposés.
- Présenter une fausse déclaration de son opposant, la réfuter et prétendre que la déclaration initiale est la position véritable de son opposant.
- Présenter quelqu'un qui défend maladroitement une position, réfuter ses arguments et prétendre que tous les arguments en faveur de cette position sont réfutés.
- Inventer un personnage de fiction avec des actions ou des croyances que l'on peut facilement critiquer et prétendre que cette personne est représentative du groupe que le locuteur est en train de critiquer.
On peut définir un argument épouvantail comme un argument de fausse déclaration. L'épouvantail est une technique utilisée très fréquemment dans les débats politiques ou d'une manière plus générale dans les médias.
The straw man is a fallacy or paralogism that consists in presenting the opponent's position in an exaggerated way.
The straw man technique consists of misrepresenting the opponent's position by attributing to him an easily refutable argument.
There are several ways to create a scarecrow argument:
- Take a portion of your opponent's arguments, refute that portion, and claim that you have refuted the entire argument.
- Present the opponent's arguments in a weak form, refute them and claim that the original arguments have been refuted. This can be accomplished by taking the original arguments and separating them from the context in which they were presented.
- Presenting a false statement by one's opponent, refuting it, and claiming that the original statement is the opponent's true position.
- Present someone who awkwardly defends a position, refute his or her arguments, and claim that all arguments in favor of the position are refuted.
- Inventing a fictional character with actions or beliefs that are easily criticized and claiming that this person is representative of the group the speaker is criticizing.
A scarecrow argument can be defined as an argument of misrepresentation. Scarecrowing is a technique used very frequently in political debates or more generally in the media.
That is exactly what you are doing with my arguments.
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"You're a pain, ??? I'm tired of this conversation that seems to have no end, and that wastes my time, you mix everything up, you distort everything, you make absurd comparisons, it's crazy. I know that the language and the fact that I use an automatic translator don't help, but still, it's abusive."
You're wasting your own time if anything. You keep banking on the same ideals. There's not much to say here because you have a highly distorted view of psychology as a whole. I don't think any amount of evidence, even if it was thrown right in your face, would be enough to reel you out of your pit of malformed thought.
"You can't even put the sentences and quotes into the context of the conversation.
When you answer me about childhood obesity by quoting a piece of a sentence and I answer you by quoting what I had written just before the piece you are quoting, of course it is still related to childhood obesity and not to female muscles. It has nothing to do with grammar, just look at the context.
It shows that everything I've said since the beginning is interpreted at your whim."
No, actually, it is an ambiguous statement. Your grammar is terrible at times so it is difficult to know which are the subjects and what your to whom your determiners are referring. In this case, it was you messing up on grammar. And given your logical inconsistencies, I saw it as another inconsistency.
"You make easy things like comparing my argument with something as absurd as the existence of unicorns. Making such crude comparisons is called being a straw man. And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable, as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it.
And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective.
Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity"."
It's not a stawman. A strawman is an intentional misrepresentation of your argument. Here, I use an example of the same scenario which must be applicable in order for your logic to make sense. A strawman is not "Hey, you used an example of my logic in another example! How dare you!"
And I'm happy you see it as easy. It's not difficult disproving your logic at all, and what better way to do it than with a grade-A example from the textbooks.
" And to take your example again, in the absolute, if this unicorn is real but the person who observed it has no way to prove his observation, it remains a fact but it is not provable"
Definition of fact: "a thing that is known or proved to be true."
Known to be true or proved to be true. One person saying that unicorns exist does not make the existence of unicorns a fact. You're essentially leaning on the "burden of proof", which is a fallacy that suggests: "because we cannot prove something doesn't exist, then we can't rule out that it doesn't exist." Unicorns don't exist, that is a fact in the same way that it is a fact that there aren't invisible cookies walking among us.
Your logic here is completely idiotic, and at this point I know I'm talking to a dense, uneducated man.
" as incredible as it may seem (besides it is not even the most absurd legendary animal you can take, because physiognomically speaking, it remains a credible animal). Then, if you want a more concrete example: I show you a picture of me but I have no way to prove that it's me, the fact that it's me is still a fact, except that I can't prove it."
It's not "incredible" because you made this up completely. It does not become a fact that fire-breathing dragons exist merely because I say I saw one last Tuesday. That is completely ridiculous, and if you're using that sort of logic, nothing will ever go into your head. For a fact to become a fact it must have something to prove it. The only exception is with "known" ideas. For example: It is a fact that World War 2 happened, given historical documentation and overwhelming evidence as well as connections today, such as soldiers. For proven facts: I can prove to you that X is heavier than Y using this scale.
So, no, you're just a moron. When you can't prove something at all, then it is not a fact. You CAN prove something is a photo of you given documentation or overwhelming evidence. For example, your birth photo: your parents can confirm, the doctor can, the nurses can, the documents in the hospital can. These are the available body of facts and/or information that indicate a belief of proposition is true or valid. So, you're example is still pretty bad. If you had your ID taken, for example, you can get information on that as well. If you take a random photo, you can see what device it was taken on, where (visual), fingerprints on the device it was taken with, the time it was taken. Your idea is that, because I can't prove that that isn't someone who looks identical to you and possesses all the same features and DNA, then it makes it unprovable that it is you. That is what is known as the "burden of truth", a common fallacy that has existed for centuries and isn't applicable at all. I can tell that you genuinely believed that this sort of example hasn't been discussed already, which is hilarious and shows how uneducated you are.
"And to come back to our subject, facts related to psychology are very difficult to prove, but that's not why they are not facts and cannot be objective."
Psychology is the "scientific study of the human mind and its functions, especially those affecting behaviour in a given context." Like any other field, it has provable facts. However, because the human mind is complex, the facts may not exist for everyone, of course. For example: people act like this when this happens. Of course this isn't an objective fact. Everyone reacts differently to different things. However, there are PROVABLE facts about the human mind, one of which is pedophilia.
You say there are grey areas. But I'd love for you to give a hard example of where an adult can have sexual feelings directed towards a child and not be considered a pedophile. Show me the grey area in pedophilia, and then explain why it's necessary in supporting your view. Otherwise, don't speak about it.
"Afterwards, you also talk to me about when I tell you that I can't confirm your facts about the stories of pedophiles on the forum but I never said that they were not potentially real facts, only that I can't confirm that these stories are indeed pedophilia or if it's only your assessment, and on the other hand even if it is the case, it doesn't prove that it concerns all the profiles of our case. And it is also to tell you that you are doing exactly what you are accusing me of: using facts that I cannot confirm, which you call "subjectivity"."
Hold on a minute: I mentioned these forums to support my view of "many of us are not attracted to muscles on a child", and I used the forums on this site and on others as an example for THAT particular argument. My evidence there was not to disprove your entire debate about grey areas in pedophilia in regards to muscle fetish, it was only to prove that many users actually weren't sharing the same view as you. Likewise, I also mention that given humanity's view of pedophilia as a whole, then they don't agree with you either, because I have argued since the very start that what you were referring to is indeed pedophilia based on the definition(s) around the globe (which are facts). Because your descriptions of psychology still fit into the category of pedophilia, which I have already explained why, then people attracted to the muscles on a child are still pedophiles, granted they are adults.
"You are still comparing the incomparable. Children's feet look quite different from adults' feet and this does not add any value to the foot fetish. While the muscles entirely change the physical appearance of the body and add value to the muscle fantasy in that a muscular child is much more impressive than an adult with the same musculature. These are indisputable facts related to physiognomy and biology as well as to the definition of the word "impressive"."
Actually, no I'm not. The difference between adult's feet and children's feet is that adult's feet are larger and have denser bones. If an adult has feet similar to a child, and the adult is attracted to the feet, then they are not a pedophile because that feature is possessed by an adult (and this example is quite common. Some people quite literally have "baby feet" or "children's feet", which are just incredibly small feet). When the feature, let's say a child has a more adult look to their feet, then the person attracted to the feature is a pedophile because they have a sexual feeling directed towards a characteristic possessed by a child.
You, of course, are too focused on "splitting hairs" because you're trying to justify well-known examples and facts. I can give much more mind you. This is just a common one, which I can tell stumped you given this horrendous response.
"And I never said that this was not impressive on adult women (on the contrary), I only said that it was more impressive on younger girls, and that therefore a young age gives an added value to this fantasy which is very often partly linked to the impressionable. Please don't distort my words."
Again, this is assuming something is correct when I have already dismantled it. You have not defended it as of yet. You say a young age gives an added value to this "fantasy".
First of all, context is very important here:
We're not talking simply "fantasy", we're talking "sexual fantasy". When you word it as "fantasy", you are ignoring the fundamentals of your own argument, which is the sexual attraction to the muscles. So, here, I'm not distorting your words, I'm giving the context so you don't get away scot free with simply saying, "muscles are more impressive on children than they are on adults". That would not support your argument at all. It would instead make a simple observation of the rarity of muscles on children as opposed to the sexual attraction to the muscles on a child, which is what we are discussing. You can't pull a fast one on me, and I say that humorously.
"And "Sexual feelings directed towards children" is indeed the definition of pedophilia but the question I've been asking since the beginning is: does this necessarily define our case? To be more exact, does this necessarily define all the profiles in our case? Couldn't it simply be for some profiles (more or less numerous) "sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier"? Because the fact that you give this definition to all the profiles in our case, results only from your appreciation, which makes it a subjectivity, which you reproach me since the beginning.
And yes, I continue to dissociate the child's body with this fantasy, because indeed the child's body is not necessarily the attractor for all the profiles in our case. It may be that it is only the young age (and not the body) that is a means (and not the attractor) of sublimating the fantasy of female muscles, since this fantasy is very often linked in part to the impressionable and a young age makes this more impressionable. So of course it is quite subjective, I grant you, but a much wider subjectivity than yours taking into account many elements and facts. And although it can't give 100% certainty, there are enough elements to consider and think about it, or at least to sow doubt. Your subjectivity is based on one element: the definition of pedophile that you consider appropriate to all the profiles in our case. "
"sexual feelings directed towards the impressionable female muscles of which the young age could be simply an amplifier""
This has been your argument, which I have disproved already, and which you have not defended objectively. Again, objectivity is important here, because you have neither proven that there is a grey area at play here (because it still falls into the definition of pedophilia, which you have mentioned already that it may be considered pedophilia by the actual definition). In this psychological discussion, we are basing it around "pedophilia", which has its objective stance and by which I have stood since the beginning. You haven't disproved my claim; instead, you threw a hissy fit because I wasn't going "deeper" into the microscopics (and I did by the way) that in no way support your massive claim. When I went into the small details you mentioned, I destroyed them completely using appropriate examples and evidence (and so far, the evidence is based on objectivity surrounding pedophilia and society's confirmation of pedophilia). On the other hand, you struck back with personal experience, blind statements to represent a whole, and non-sequiturs. You also ignore some responses that you get thrown under the bus on, which shows that you aren't able to come back from them. This is a process of narrowing your thought down until your completely at a loss. And I'm happy to do that.
"And when you say that there are no grey areas in pedophilia, it shows how narrow your mind is, grey areas are everywhere, life is like that."
Again, show me an example where an adult sexually attracted to a child in this day and age may not be considered pedophilia. I'm all ears. And then show me how it supports your view in general.
"As for my so-called hypothetical scenario, it is based on historical facts. In the early 80's, there were many political debates to consider pedophilia as a sexuality as well as homosexuality, but some psychologists saved the situation by pointing out the dangers of pedophilia.
On the other hand, if the danger is non-existent, what is the point of decrying it?
But once again you are only trying to divert the subject so that you don't have to answer it because you have no argument on it."
Hold on a minute: you can't throw more non-sequiturs into the discussion. I have already mentioned that this example doesn't support your main argument at all. Merely because a discussion was had about it, doesn't justify in any way this form of pedophilia. So there is no point bringing up this useless example.
Not only this, but you're essentially admitting that something isn't necessarily considered paedophilia if there's no direct danger involved. I have already given my example with child pornography, which links directly to what you're saying, and how that is still considered paedophilia despite there being no direct danger to a child at that given time. A lot of what makes paedophilia a confirmed case is that there is the potential risks pedophiles pose to society, not only to children, but to parents. To sit and say there is no point in denouncing something when there is a high risk posed under the law is absolutely idiotic. It also plays under the little game you're having about psychology and how not everyone is the same. It simply doesn't matter. If someone is caught with child pornography, they are prosecuted because of the danger they pose to society.
I'm sorry, but discussing things with you is like talking to a brick wall. Nothing is going into that little mind of yours because you keep grasping at concepts that lean too much on your little opinions as opposed to approaching the broader picture. The broader picture, in this case, is that pedophilia is the sexual feelings directed towards children. When you try to isolate certain elements, such as the body from the child, you are creating a situation where sexual desire is focused on a particular element. However, I have already argued that it is still considered pedophilia because the features are possessed by a child, which is a sexual feeling directed towards a child, thus confirming the case.
"discussing things with you is like talking to a brick wall. Nothing is going into that little mind of yours"
I feel exactly the same way about you. You're not even brick, you're experimental reinforced concrete that even Kylie couldn't get through! :-[
If everyone was like you, content with only the known, we would still be in the stone age. It is by exploring the unknown that man advances and that the unknown becomes known.
Moreover, even in science, which is one of the areas where the most facts are used, we are not satisfied with the known, and the known is always considered as unknown, because science is always in motion, the known can always be questioned by new scientific data. No scientist will say that something is 100% certain, there are always grey areas in science (as in life). In science one cannot demonstrate that a thing does not exist, one can only demonstrate that a thing exists, however as long as it has not been demonstrated it is considered non-existent, but no scientist will tell you with certainty that such and such a thing does not exist.
A fact is indeed by definition something known, except that what is known is not necessarily known by everybody, it is enough that it is known by only one person for it to be a fact. A fact is necessarily demonstrable but some facts are more easily demonstrable than others.
Let's go back to our unicorn, if this unicorn is real, we should be able to demonstrate that it exists, however to be able to demonstrate it, we will have to organize an expedition to the place where it was supposed to be observed the first time, and if it is a very rare animal, it will be very difficult to be able to observe it a second time to confirm the first observation. However, for the person who observed it the first time, its existence is a fact, even if it has not yet been proven, and he is no less objective when he claims to have observed this animal. So there is no subjectivity.
It's the same for the photo, to prove that it's me, you'll have to do an investigation because behind a forum where I'm only a pseudo for you, it will be difficult to prove that it's really me on the photo. The easiest way would be video conferencing, but you still need to have the equipment for that, for example I don't have a webcam, but I eventually have a smartphone, today almost everyone has a smartphone, but 10 years ago it was not the case. Without a webcam, smartphone or anything else, it's going to be hard to prove that a photo is well oneself to someone on the internet who doesn't know us. Not impossible but difficult.
This is exactly the case with the facts I use in our conversation, they are facts that are difficult to demonstrate but they are still facts that I have observed, I am completely objective when I talk about these facts. On the other hand, since I can't prove them to you, you don't have to accept them, but they are still facts.
On the other hand, you have not refuted anything since the beginning of our conversation, you have not proved anything. Everything you say does not prove that what I say is wrong, you only doubt what I say.
As for your feet, I'm sorry but a child's foot doesn't have quite the same visual aspect, it's not only the size that changes, there are some small differences visually, even if it's globally the same shape, you can recognize a child's foot, compared to an adult's foot. A child's foot has a softer shape than an adult's foot, and the proportions are not quite the same, compared to the ankles, ears and all the rest. But even without that, assuming you can't tell the difference between an adult's and a child's feet, there's nothing more common than a foot, it's something everyone has (unless they have both feet amputated or a birth defect). A normally constituted child has two feet, as well as for all human persons children or adults, it is part of the normal morphology of any child or human person children or adults. And it doesn't matter any additional value compared to an adult or to the foot fetish (except possibly to pedophiles who are interested in children's feet). The same cannot be said for muscles, as I have already explained over and over again (very different and uncommon physical aspect + added value of the fact that it is more impressive on a child than an adult).
Then in your example you were also talking about child pornography, while I'm just talking about fantasies, sexual of course, but without going into pornography, child pornography is totally unnamable and disgusting, and it's to be condemned at all costs.
And as usual you distort my words:
Not only this, but you're essentially admitting that something isn't necessarily considered paedophilia if there's no direct danger involved.
I never said such a thing. All I said was that even if you admit that this is paedophilia, you still have to prove that it could be a potential direct or indirect danger. And so far you've only tried to avoid the question so you don't have to answer it. At first you simply ignored it, but since I insisted on the question, you always find an excuse not to answer it (it's quite funny how you try to divert the question so as not to have to answer it).
Now I'm going to give you a little schematic scenario.
Imagine a guy who has never had any sexual feelings towards a single child (or underage girl). He is therefore not a pedophile. However, his thing is female muscles (like everyone else here on this forum), that's what turns him on, and what turns him on most of all is being impressed by female muscles and the power of them. The more impressed he is, the more it turns him on. So he is always looking for the most impressive possible in his sexual fantasies (so far I think many people here will recognize themselves). Until the day he realizes that age is also a factor in his fantasy of being more and more impressed by female muscles and their power. Indeed, the younger the subject of his fantasies is, the more it will impress him and the more it will excite him. At the beginning he will limit himself to 18 years old minimum to stay in the politically correct and within the framework of the law for the majority (for the majority of the countries of which France), but in his search of the always more impressive, he will be pushed to nibble more and more this limit because the younger the age is, the more it will impress him and excite him. 17 years old, 16 years old then 15 years old. He is a little ashamed of it but he tells himself that we are still in the sexual majority, so he tells himself that he will never go further in his sexual fantasies, except that he wants more and more, more and more impressive, so it will continue. 14 years, 13 years, etc. But still, he has never had any sexual feelings towards a child or an underage girl apart from his fantasy about increasingly impressive female muscles.
Does this scenario seem so unlikely to you?
Well, in reality most people will say that it's nothing more than admiration without any sexual desire, but since it's a projection of their sexual fantasy of female muscles on underage girls one can still doubt, if deep down, or at least subconsciously, if there isn't a little sexual desire they don't want to admit. Besides, I see a lot of artists of female muscle who usually make muscular and powerful adult women and who from time to time, exceptionally, will make a muscular and powerful underage girl, given their fantasy of female muscles, I doubt that this is harmless. After, I can always be wrong, but when we see their fantasies, the doubt is still allowed. This is not a judgment but only an observation and I do not assert anything ^^
"Moreover, even in science, which is one of the areas where the most facts are used, we are not satisfied with the known, and the known is always considered as unknown, because science is always in motion, the known can always be questioned by new scientific data. No scientist will say that something is 100% certain, there are always grey areas in science (as in life). In science one cannot demonstrate that a thing does not exist, one can only demonstrate that a thing exists, however as long as it has not been demonstrated it is considered non-existent, but no scientist will tell you with certainty that such and such a thing does not exist."
Of course science is always looking for new things. However, scientists will say something is 100% certain given enough data and evidence. For example, it is 100% certain that the Earth is round (an oblate spheroid to be precise). There is no percentage of doubt in the professional scientific mind that the Earth is a totally different shape than what they have observed, calculated, and mathematically and geographically. proven. Another example: scientists will tell you it is 100% certain that we need water in order to live. So what the hell are you talking about? You keep bringing up this discussion of "there are always grey areas in science". When you word it like that, then yes: grey areas exist in science. However, they do not exist in all areas of science. And this again goes back to your weak defense of "proof of burden", which suggests that: "Because we cannot prove that there isn't some alternative to water that would sustain life for us, then therefore it is not 100% certain that we need water to live."
Okay, let's lay down some definitions first:
Fact: "a thing that is known or proved to be true."
Firstly, a fact is not merely something that is "known", end of. A fact is something that is known to be true or proven to be true. Now, let's define true.
True: "in accordance with fact or reality."
Let's define reality:
"the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them"
Notional: existing as or based on a suggestion, estimate, or theory; not existing in reality.
Okay, now that we have our terms, we can get into your statement.
" In science one cannot demonstrate that a thing does not exist, one can only demonstrate that a thing exists, however as long as it has not been demonstrated it is considered non-existent, but no scientist will tell you with certainty that such and such a thing does not exist."
This is just blatantly incorrect. You again rely on "burden of proof", which is literally an opposition to facts, as given by our definitions. Scientists will tell you that the boogieman isn't real. The notion of the boogeyman is real, however, its existence in reality is not, and therefore it is not a fact that it exists.
You have this idea that: "Well, I saw the boogeyman. So he is in fact real." THIS IS NOT OBJECTIVE. This is subjective and based on again personal experience. This becomes a subjective statement that is not an objective fact because there is no evidence to prove that the boogeyman is real, and your eye-witness account is hardly a fact enabler.
"A fact is indeed by definition something known, except that what is known is not necessarily known by everybody, it is enough that it is known by only one person for it to be a fact. A fact is necessarily demonstrable but some facts are more easily demonstrable than others."
*known to be true, don't mess up the definition now. Something that is known to be true is a fact. If you are to say something that is merely known, then anything at all is a fact and there's no room for non-facts. Now, let's define known:
"recognized, familiar, or within the scope of knowledge." [or] "publicly acknowledged to be."
So it has to be recognized as in accordance with fact, or that it is publicly acknowledged based on evidence that it is in accordance with fact. Unicorns have to evidence, therefore they are not facts. This is simple.
"A fact is necessarily demonstrable but some facts are more easily demonstrable than others."
You say it yourself: a fact is necessarily demonstrable. So again, you're banking on the "burden of proof" yet again because you're grasping at straws for a comeback.
The Burden of Proof is not an actual debate strategy, it is a logical fallacy that contradicts facts and evidence, what is known to be true and what is proven to be true. A very common example is God: there is no way to prove God is real, so people must put faith in Him. However, the existence of God is not a fact unless He is proven. That is the whole point of faith: belief without proof. And where there is no proof, there is no fact. The notion of God still exists, however, but as of today, He is not a fact. You might argue that: Well, in time, He might be proven. This is not an argument either. This is a hypothetical scenario that is created because it's easier to bank on the infinite number of possibilities in the universe than it is to go with what is proven and what is known to be true. So, Burden of Proof does not support your beliefs in any way, neither subjective or objective.
"Let's go back to our unicorn, if this unicorn is real, we should be able to demonstrate that it exists, however to be able to demonstrate it, we will have to organize an expedition to the place where it was supposed to be observed the first time, and if it is a very rare animal, it will be very difficult to be able to observe it a second time to confirm the first observation. However, for the person who observed it the first time, its existence is a fact, even if it has not yet been proven, and he is no less objective when he claims to have observed this animal. So there is no subjectivity."
Do not create a definite scenario. What I mean by this is, saying, "If this unicorn is real." This assumption is immediately inapplicable, because it's not demonstrable in reality as I've already proven. In this universe that you have created, then the unicorn is literally real, so of course the person that saw the unicorn knows that it is a fact. In the real world however, which is what you should be making examples out of, the unicorn still doesn't exist in fact because there is no evidence to support it. There are plenty of ways to confirm that a creature someone saw is the creature they have identified it as: professionals investigating the site, looking at prints, looking at bite marks (if the creature is vicious), gathering hair samples, dna samples. And then, when all is said and done, they can either confirm this creatures existence or not. And more often than not, it is a real creature that someone has misinterpreted as something else, which has happened a lot in this world. "I saw a chubucabra!" Turns out it was a bear given the evidence. So, no, it does not remain a fact that the unicorn exists, and in this universe you created, it is still provable, so you're just being moronic.
"It's the same for the photo, to prove that it's me, you'll have to do an investigation because behind a forum where I'm only a pseudo for you, it will be difficult to prove that it's really me on the photo. The easiest way would be video conferencing, but you still need to have the equipment for that, for example I don't have a webcam, but I eventually have a smartphone, today almost everyone has a smartphone, but 10 years ago it was not the case. Without a webcam, smartphone or anything else, it's going to be hard to prove that a photo is well oneself to someone on the internet who doesn't know us. Not impossible but difficult."
More Burden of Proof nonsense. It will be difficult for YOU to prove that it's really you. However, professionals will be able to prove that it's you, even ten years ago. And guess what, a lot of proof is visual and dna-based. If you're caught on camera murdering someone, then that is evidence against you. It is a "Burden of Proof" to say that: "Well, how do you know this isn't someone that looks exactly like me with the same DNA? Prove it." And this is the form of logic by which you have been standing for days now. We don't need to round up the entire world to confirm that it is you (and that would be one way of doing it, but it's extremely unlikely), so it still exists in fact that it is in you in the picture, supported by both visual evidence and dna-based evidence which can be proven with further investigation and has been demonstrated in the past decades.
You could have gone for something way before 10 years ago by the way, but it still would bank on the burden of proof to be applicable, which it isn't.
"This is exactly the case with the facts I use in our conversation, they are facts that are difficult to demonstrate but they are still facts that I have observed, I am completely objective when I talk about these facts. On the other hand, since I can't prove them to you, you don't have to accept them, but they are still facts."
This is, again, subjective and leans on the burden of proof. And I have already mentioned that there is no reason for me to believe anything you say about this personal experiences you have. You cannot prove to me that your presumptions of the muscle fetish are appropriate across the spectrum, which I have asked you to do multiple times, because you base it on a subjective experience around which you developed an opinion. I have given you to chance to define "many", and you couldn't do it. Guess what, science can prove that many people like sex. Why can't you prove to me that many (you used majority at first by the way) feel the same way as you, without veering off into particular discussions you've had with a small number of people throughout, what, 20 years? And then showcase how that represents that everything you said is an objective fact.
Remember, a fact is something that is known to be true or proven to be true. True means in accordance with fact or reality. Reality is "the state of things as they actually exist, as opposed to an idealistic or notional idea of them." And guess what? You're "evidence" is notional because it is "existing as or based on a suggestion, estimate, or theory." Hence, why you're personal experience does not constitute a factual debate. It instead leads you to making blind statements through burden of proof. "PROVE ME WRONG, I SAY!" It's honestly humurous.
"On the other hand, you have not refuted anything since the beginning of our conversation, you have not proved anything. Everything you say does not prove that what I say is wrong, you only doubt what I say."
You cannot prove something doesn't exist, I have already explained that, so you're still crutching on the Burden of Proof. And also, I have refuted a lot of what you said. I have refuted the idea that one can be attracted to the muscles on a child but not the child his/herself. How? By implementing the definition of pedophilia and the social acknowledgement and denouncement surrounding pedophilia. Sexual feelings directed towards a child. And again, you have already admitted that this may be pedophilia by the actual definition. Something else I refuted was the claim of majority sharing the same view as you, which you had to admit you were wrong about and then implemented a "safer" term called "many". And again, in order for this to exist, you must first prove that many people share the same view as you. It may not prove you right, but it would make you less dependent on the Burden of Proof. I have also refuted a lot of points you made about human psychology, and the points you made about objectivity and subjectivity, and the points where semantics matter. So, what's going on here? Not comprehending a sliver of English?
"As for your feet, I'm sorry but a child's foot doesn't have quite the same visual aspect, it's not only the size that changes, there are some small differences visually, even if it's globally the same shape, you can recognize a child's foot, compared to an adult's foot. A child's foot has a softer shape than an adult's foot, and the proportions are not quite the same, compared to the ankles, ears and all the rest. But even without that, assuming you can't tell the difference between an adult's and a child's feet, there's nothing more common than a foot, it's something everyone has (unless they have both feet amputated or a birth defect). A normally constituted child has two feet, as well as for all human persons children or adults, it is part of the normal morphology of any child or human person children or adults. And it doesn't matter any additional value compared to an adult or to the foot fetish (except possibly to pedophiles who are interested in children's feet). The same cannot be said for muscles, as I have already explained over and over again (very different and uncommon physical aspect + added value of the fact that it is more impressive on a child than an adult)."
I have quite literally explained to you that it doesn't necessarily matter how different the two are (and they are not that different. I have already told you the only difference is the size and density of the bones.) Adults can have baby/children's feet, as already explained. And I said nothing about not being able to tell the difference between them. I said that if an adult woman has feet similiar to a child's, then someone attracted to those feet is by definition and by evidence not a pedophile. If a child has feet similar to an adult's, then an adult attracted to those feet is a pedophile by definition and evidence because they are attracted to a feature possessed by a child. You have not disproved this because you cannot. It is written in stone.
" as well as for all human persons children or adults, it is part of the normal morphology of any child or human person children or adults. And it doesn't matter any additional value compared to an adult or to the foot fetish (except possibly to pedophiles who are interested in children's feet). The same cannot be said for muscles, as I have already explained over and over again (very different and uncommon physical aspect + added value of the fact that it is more impressive on a child than an adult).""
You try to split hairs between muscles and feet. However, the foot fetish is perhaps more common than the muscle fetish. And you said yourself the amount of people attracted to muscles on women was less numerous. Now, let's take what you said here:
"The same cannot be said for muscles, as I have already explained over and over again (very different and uncommon physical aspect + added value of the fact that it is more impressive on a child than an adult).""
Okay, so this is where you're splitting hairs to support yourself. The same can be said for muscles. It is still a feature possessed by a child, and an adult that is sexually attracted to the feature on the child is still by definition and evidence a pedophile.
Now, let's fix your context yet again:
" (very different and uncommon physical aspect + added value of the fact that it is more impressive on a child than an adult)."""
No, no, no; what you are arguing is that it is more "sexually impressive". As in, the younger the child, the more aroused the person becomes, because it creates a contrast between what is expected of children and the sexual fantasy for which they long. This is still pedophilia as I've already discussed NUMEROUS times. And I still have more logical fallacies to point out in this: Does this mean that muscles on a toddler, say aged 2, is more sexually impressive than 12 year old like Kylie? You need to set a barrier here, otherwise your statement can go all they the way down, and I'm sure you would find it pedophilia if someone was rubbing one out to a 2 year old with muscles and saying they're only attracted to the muscles. And this age argument works with the definition of a child: "a young human being below the age of puberty or below the legal age of majority."
You're likely going to split hairs again here by making more blind statements, so it's probably pointless pointing this out to you. But at the end of the day, it's still a feature possessed by a child, and thus confirms the pedophilia. You can say it's not the same as much as you want, but facts don't care about your feelings; if you see two features possessed by a child as justifiable controls in defining pedophilia, then you'll have to change the definition of pedophilia and convince not only myself why I'm wrong but why all the professionals who have confirmed the same thing are wrong.
"I never said such a thing. All I said was that even if you admit that this is paedophilia, you still have to prove that it could be a potential direct or indirect danger. And so far you've only tried to avoid the question so you don't have to answer it. At first you simply ignored it, but since I insisted on the question, you always find an excuse not to answer it (it's quite funny how you try to divert the question so as not to have to answer it)."
If someone is rubbing one out to a child, then they exhibit the behaviour of a pedophile, so you're entire question would have to assume I'm wrong, which you have not proven. Because they are jerking off to a characteristic possessed by a child, they are by definition a pedophile, and are therefore a risk to society. The same can be said with child pornography. When they are caught, they are prosecuted. So there is the proof in the pudding and it all ties back to everything that I said. If you were reading and comprehending what I said and disproved me, you wouldn't have asked this. And a lot of your questions are based on the burden of proof which I've already explained.
"Imagine a guy who has never had any sexual feelings towards a single child (or underage girl). He is therefore not a pedophile. However, his thing is female muscles (like everyone else here on this forum), that's what turns him on, and what turns him on most of all is being impressed by female muscles and the power of them. The more impressed he is, the more it turns him on. So he is always looking for the most impressive possible in his sexual fantasies (so far I think many people here will recognize themselves). Until the day he realizes that age is also a factor in his fantasy of being more and more impressed by female muscles and their power. Indeed, the younger the subject of his fantasies is, the more it will impress him and the more it will excite him. At the beginning he will limit himself to 18 years old minimum to stay in the politically correct and within the framework of the law for the majority (for the majority of the countries of which France), but in his search of the always more impressive, he will be pushed to nibble more and more this limit because the younger the age is, the more it will impress him and excite him. 17 years old, 16 years old then 15 years old. He is a little ashamed of it but he tells himself that we are still in the sexual majority, so he tells himself that he will never go further in his sexual fantasies, except that he wants more and more, more and more impressive, so it will continue. 14 years, 13 years, etc. But still, he has never had any sexual feelings towards a child or an underage girl apart from his fantasy about increasingly impressive female muscles."
This scenario does not matter at all. Because in the eyes of the law they are by definition a pedophile. You created this scenario without first disproving what I had to say, and this goes to show how important it is to disprove inconsistencies in one side before coming up with something as extreme as this. This also sounds pretty biographical, perhaps something you have experienced. And if he's attracted to muscles on a child, then he immediately is attracted to a child. I have already explained this and you have yet to disprove it.
"Does this scenario seem so unlikely to you?"
I'm not sure what you mean by "unlikely." In the grand scheme of things, something like this isn't likely at all, because pedophiles are uncommon. So yeah. I can also hazard a guess that this scenario relates more to you than to anyone else you've talked with. But that's just me having fun in this discussion.
"
Well, in reality most people will say that it's nothing more than admiration without any sexual desire, but since it's a projection of their sexual fantasy of female muscles on underage girls one can still doubt, if deep down, or at least subconsciously, if there isn't a little sexual desire they don't want to admit. Besides, I see a lot of artists of female muscle who usually make muscular and powerful adult women and who from time to time, exceptionally, will make a muscular and powerful underage girl, given their fantasy of female muscles, I doubt that this is harmless. After, I can always be wrong, but when we see their fantasies, the doubt is still allowed. This is not a judgment but only an observation and I do not assert anything ^^"
"Well, in reality most people will say that it's nothing more than admiration without any sexual desire, but since it's a projection of their sexual fantasy of female muscles on underage girls one can still doubt, if deep down, or at least subconsciously, if there isn't a little sexual desire they don't want to admit"
"Most people" will confirm that this isn't pedophilia, huh? Going back to the majority again? You are making a bold assumption here. For one, you are arguing that it isn't pedophilia based on the statements you've made beforehand which I have already dismantled and from which you could develop no further response. There is no "reality" where most people see this as not pedophilia, because in order for that to be true, the definition would have to change, what is known about pedophiles would have to change, and society would have to come to an agreement on an area like this. And again, I've mentioned since the start, it's not that complex. It only becomes complex when you ignore a lot of facts and evidence and rely on terrible thought processes that have been disproven time and time again.
"After, I can always be wrong, but when we see their fantasies, the doubt is still allowed. This is not a judgment but only an observation and I do not assert anything"
Then don't call your opinions facts. This confirms your defeat on the topic of objectivity versus subjectivity.
I find it hilarious that you again reiterate that most people will say the same thing about this scenario, especially since it's a blind statement with no evidence at all. If you had disproved my earlier arguments instead of trying to split hairs in the microscopic world, then you would have something to stand by here, but you didn't. You kept recycling the same information over and over again until I narrowed you down to only, what, the burden of proof? Kind of funny if you ask me, because this has happened countless times in the debating world; the battlecry of someone that has lost a debate is the one who resorts to extreme hypothetical scenarios and the infamous burden of proof, which is precisely what you have done here, even though it's not a debate. Again, no factual accuracy from your side, no logical consistency; just pure person beliefs based on subjectivity. And when you write small sentences like, "this is only an observation and I do not assert anything", then it proves that you wanted a subjective discussion and not an objective one, so why not just open with that? Why use labels like "in fact", "most of us", "the majority", without evidence and call it a debate? Like of course you're getting nowhere; you're so stuck in this delusion of subjectivity that you're no doubt ashamed of admitting it. You're not being objective and you have PROVED that through this discussion, making it a fact.
P.S. You never gave a hard example of where a grown adult can be sexually attracted to a child and not be considered a pedophile. Your scenario also doesn't abide by the task.
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PS : For your information :
L’épouvantail (en anglais : straw man, littéralement « homme de paille ») est un sophisme ou un paralogisme qui consiste à présenter la position de son adversaire de façon exagérée.
La technique de l'épouvantail consiste à déformer la position de l'adversaire en lui attribuant un argument facilement réfutable.
Il est possible de créer un argument épouvantail de différentes manières :
- Prendre une partie des arguments de son contradicteur, réfuter cette partie et prétendre que l'on a réfuté l'ensemble des arguments.
- Présenter les arguments de son opposant dans une forme faible, les réfuter et prétendre que les arguments originaux ont été réfutés. Pour atteindre ce but, on peut notamment prendre les arguments originaux et les séparer du contexte dans lequel ils ont été exposés.
- Présenter une fausse déclaration de son opposant, la réfuter et prétendre que la déclaration initiale est la position véritable de son opposant.
- Présenter quelqu'un qui défend maladroitement une position, réfuter ses arguments et prétendre que tous les arguments en faveur de cette position sont réfutés.
- Inventer un personnage de fiction avec des actions ou des croyances que l'on peut facilement critiquer et prétendre que cette personne est représentative du groupe que le locuteur est en train de critiquer.
On peut définir un argument épouvantail comme un argument de fausse déclaration. L'épouvantail est une technique utilisée très fréquemment dans les débats politiques ou d'une manière plus générale dans les médias.
The straw man is a fallacy or paralogism that consists in presenting the opponent's position in an exaggerated way.
The straw man technique consists of misrepresenting the opponent's position by attributing to him an easily refutable argument.
There are several ways to create a scarecrow argument:
- Take a portion of your opponent's arguments, refute that portion, and claim that you have refuted the entire argument.
- Present the opponent's arguments in a weak form, refute them and claim that the original arguments have been refuted. This can be accomplished by taking the original arguments and separating them from the context in which they were presented.
- Presenting a false statement by one's opponent, refuting it, and claiming that the original statement is the opponent's true position.
- Present someone who awkwardly defends a position, refute his or her arguments, and claim that all arguments in favor of the position are refuted.
- Inventing a fictional character with actions or beliefs that are easily criticized and claiming that this person is representative of the group the speaker is criticizing.
A scarecrow argument can be defined as an argument of misrepresentation. Scarecrowing is a technique used very frequently in political debates or more generally in the media.
That is exactly what you are doing with my arguments.
I'm not taking any portion of your arguments. I'm taking the logic you are using and applying it in a very similar scenario which must also be true in order for your original assessment to make sense. That is not a strawman. A strawman would be you saying, "All humans breathe air." And me saying, "So you're saying air is a toxic gas that slowly kills humans?"
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When I say "most people" I mean most people who are in that fantasy, who are in that kind of scenario that I described above, those will say that it's just an admiration but not a sexual desire, because they don't accept it. I admit that there was a little ambiguity, but reading the whole paragraph, where I talk below about artists of female muscle, it seems to me that it is easy to put "most people" in the context of what I meant. So read what I wrote again and put "most people" in the right context.
Well, honestly, I'm bowing down, you're too good for me, we can see that you're used to debates, you have a mastery of debates that I don't have, you manage to turn the smallest piece of sentence to your advantage, the smallest flaw and so on to your advantage. It's a pity that such skills are not used to try to have an open debate. It's a pity that your only goal is to refute everything I say without attempting an open approach. In reality you don't refute anything since you never demonstrated that what I say can't be true (yes because to refute an argument, according to the dictionary definition, is to demonstrate its falsity), but you do it in such a way, you twist it in such a way that it's well done, one feels that there is mastery behind it.
Even in relation to the photo, I said that it would be necessary to make an investigation to demonstrate the accuracy of the photo, you tell me that a professional could demonstrate it, that means a little bit the same thing (a professional will indeed make an investigation, but if it takes a professional it is not easy to demonstrate like that), but you must admit that you manage well to divert this kind of thing. In the same way that you are good at not taking into consideration everything I say.
As for the unicorn story, it's true that I made a hypothetical scenario, you're quite right, since this animal is not supposed to exist in reality, I could only make a scenario of a fictitious universe from your example, it's well done to throw that back in my face to dismantle the argument of the fact.
On the other hand, using the fact that foot fetishism is more common than muscle fetishism as an argument seems a bit amateurish to me. I don't know what this obvious fact that everyone knows is doing to do in our conversation and what it's supposed to demonstrate. You could have done better, I think, considering your talent. But that said, you're the professional debater, you must know what you're doing.
But the way you insist that this fantasy is about a characteristic possessed by a child without taking into account the particularity of this characteristic or what it represents for the fantasy or how the child can be a means to enhance what this characteristic represents for the fantasy, is very strong.
Now there is a lot of straw man in there, but it is done with skill. It is even denied with talent! It's true that it's also very strong the way you say that you take my logic in a (roughly) similar scenario to confirm that you don't do the straw man when this is typically straw man.
Anyway, I can only applaud such a talent, :bravo: I am totally helpless in front of this talent and I really admire it. It's a pity that this talent is not used better than this, it's a waste. But I think I'm not done admiring your talent in your next answers.
Well, there is still one thing that bothers me about it. It's that, in the end, even if we admit that this can be a form of pedophilia, we still don't know if this particular form of pedophilia can be really harmful for society, in particular for children. Or even if it is really linked to a clinical pathology.
But then again, I'm just a moron. ::)
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When I say "most people" I mean most people who are in that fantasy, who are in that kind of scenario that I described above, those will say that it's just an admiration but not a sexual desire, because they don't accept it. I admit that there was a little ambiguity, but reading the whole paragraph, where I talk below about artists of female muscle, it seems to me that it is easy to put "most people" in the context of what I meant. So read what I wrote again and put "most people" in the right context.
Well, honestly, I'm bowing down, you're too good for me, we can see that you're used to debates, you have a mastery of debates that I don't have, you manage to turn the smallest piece of sentence to your advantage, the smallest flaw and so on to your advantage. It's a pity that such skills are not used to try to have an open debate. It's a pity that your only goal is to refute everything I say without attempting an open approach. In reality you don't refute anything since you never demonstrated that what I say can't be true (yes because to refute an argument, according to the dictionary definition, is to demonstrate its falsity), but you do it in such a way, you twist it in such a way that it's well done, one feels that there is mastery behind it.
Even in relation to the photo, I said that it would be necessary to make an investigation to demonstrate the accuracy of the photo, you tell me that a professional could demonstrate it, that means a little bit the same thing (a professional will indeed make an investigation, but if it takes a professional it is not easy to demonstrate like that), but you must admit that you manage well to divert this kind of thing. In the same way that you are good at not taking into consideration everything I say.
As for the unicorn story, it's true that I made a hypothetical scenario, you're quite right, since this animal is not supposed to exist in reality, I could only make a scenario of a fictitious universe from your example, it's well done to throw that back in my face to dismantle the argument of the fact.
On the other hand, using the fact that foot fetishism is more common than muscle fetishism as an argument seems a bit amateurish to me. I don't know what this obvious fact that everyone knows is doing to do in our conversation and what it's supposed to demonstrate. You could have done better, I think, considering your talent. But that said, you're the professional debater, you must know what you're doing.
But the way you insist that this fantasy is about a characteristic possessed by a child without taking into account the particularity of this characteristic or what it represents for the fantasy or how the child can be a means to enhance what this characteristic represents for the fantasy, is very strong.
Now there is a lot of straw man in there, but it is done with skill. It is even denied with talent! It's true that it's also very strong the way you say that you take my logic in a (roughly) similar scenario to confirm that you don't do the straw man when this is typically straw man.
Anyway, I can only applaud such a talent, :bravo: I am totally helpless in front of this talent and I really admire it. It's a pity that this talent is not used better than this, it's a waste. But I think I'm not done admiring your talent in your next answers.
Well, there is still one thing that bothers me about it. It's that, in the end, even if we admit that this can be a form of pedophilia, we still don't know if this particular form of pedophilia can be really harmful for society, in particular for children. Or even if it is really linked to a clinical pathology.
But then again, I'm just a moron. ::)
You know what, I'll leave it there.
I can't convince you, so I won't continue, so we'll just have to let the people reading decide for themselves.
And I most certainly must not know what a strawman is, jeez. Not like it's one of the most misused terms in the entire world, aw jeez. I guess my education was all for nothing, aw jeez. Guess you're right.
"But the way you insist that this fantasy is about a characteristic possessed by a child without taking into account the particularity of this characteristic or what it represents for the fantasy or how the child can be a means to enhance what this characteristic represents for the fantasy, is very strong."
Aw JEEEEEZ, yup, I never took into the account the particularity, aw JEEEEEZ. Didn't mention that it was irrelevant like ten times aw jeez. Got me there.
"As for the unicorn story, it's true that I made a hypothetical scenario, you're quite right, since this animal is not supposed to exist in reality, I could only make a scenario of a fictitious universe from your example, it's well done to throw that back in my face to dismantle the argument of the fact."
Aw jeez, because that's totally what I did. Aw jeez louise! Got me again!
"Now there is a lot of straw man in there, but it is done with skill. It is even denied with talent! It's true that it's also very strong the way you say that you take my logic in a (roughly) similar scenario to confirm that you don't do the straw man when this is typically straw man. "
Guess you're right, ol buddy ol pal. I get paid to use strawmans I do!
"Anyway, I can only applaud such a talent, :bravo: I am totally helpless in front of this talent and I really admire it. It's a pity that this talent is not used better than this, it's a waste. But I think I'm not done admiring your talent in your next answers."
Aw jeez, don't flatter me aw stop you little rascal you!
"Well, there is still one thing that bothers me about it. It's that, in the end, even if we admit that this can be a form of pedophilia, we still don't know if this particular form of pedophilia can be really harmful for society, in particular for children. Or even if it is really linked to a clinical pathology."
Gosh, didn't explain this in detail I didn't. Gosh. I've been bested again, oh you so-clever man!
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Even in sarcasm you are talented! You are too good, I tell you!
And indeed, thank you for confirming that you never explained in detail how this can be harmful in our society, because every time you just skirt around the question without ever answering it, but always with talent.
You are also too good at mentioning 10 times that something is not relevant, as if mentioning it means that you take it into account when in fact if you don't consider it relevant it means that you don't take it into account. But you do it so well that you even manage to make your assessment of what is relevant or not as a fact that we should all follow!
On that, I'm glad you're leave it there, because as much as I admire your talent, I was getting pretty damn tired of this conversation. And I also think that we understood your point of view that you explained with talent, although not very open, according to my appreciation that nobody is obliged to follow, because I don't have your talent and I'm just an idiot. So yes let the readers make their own opinion, but their point of view is welcome too ^^
That said, in the meantime, maybe we could go back to Kylie's story, I would have liked to have a feedback from the author on my long review ^^
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Even in sarcasm you are talented! You are too good, I tell you!
And indeed, thank you for confirming that you never explained in detail how this can be harmful in our society, because every time you just skirt around the question without ever answering it, but always with talent.
You are also too good at mentioning 10 times that something is not relevant, as if mentioning it means that you take it into account when in fact if you don't consider it relevant it means that you don't take it into account. But you do it so well that you even manage to make your assessment of what is relevant or not as a fact that we should all follow!
On that, I'm glad you're leave it there, because as much as I admire your talent, I was getting pretty damn tired of this conversation. And I also think that we understood your point of view that you explained with talent, although not very open, according to my appreciation that nobody is obliged to follow, because I don't have your talent and I'm just an idiot. So yes let the readers make their own opinion, but their point of view is welcome too ^^
That said, in the meantime, maybe we could go back to Kylie's story, I would have liked to have a feedback from the author on my long review ^^
"And indeed, thank you for confirming that you never explained in detail how this can be harmful in our society, because every time you just skirt around the question without ever answering it, but always with talent."
I did answer the question. I said that since they are masturbating to a child, they are by definition a pedophile. And because of this, they pose a risk to society, to children and parents of those children. I have mentioned this, and have used child pornography as an example. One behavior leads to another. Not sure how that's skirting around the question.
"You are also too good at mentioning 10 times that something is not relevant, as if mentioning it means that you take it into account when in fact if you don't consider it relevant it means that you don't take it into account. But you do it so well that you even manage to make your assessment of what is relevant or not as a fact that we should all follow!"
It's not relevant because your case is not strong enough to detach the subjects from pedophilia. You argued that they were merely attracted to the muscles, and because the girl is a child that makes the fantasy more [sexually] impressive, as in, more erotic and pleasurable. The reason you gave is because children are expected to be weak. I have argued that, by definition, the attraction of a feature possessed by a child is still a sexual attraction directed towards a child (definition of pedophilia), and thus makes it pedophilia. This makes your case irrelevant by definition. That's what I was saying.
If you want to talk about skirting around things, how about the task I employed you with to give me an example of where an adult can be sexually attracted to a child and not be a pedophile? This grey area is still interesting to me, and you've skipped it twice now.
And, since it's the end of this, I should probably tell you a bit about myself. I've published a book on Debate Analysis (I won't reveal the name) and take part in debates spanning from religion to politics to history. I have a degree in English Literature and History, so when I say some instances in your text are quite ambiguous, you can bet your ass they are.
In hindsight, you never stood a chance here. I had a lot of fun dismantling your points, even the ones that weren't relevant to the discussion (the non-sequiturs). One thing that I find indeed quite humorous is your level of false intelligence. You know a lot less than you make yourself out to know, and that much is evident given this discussion. You have made plenty of false claims and inaccurate assessments to the point where even if I didn't have the education I possess I would still be able to dismantle your points.
I know how overwhelming this was for you. This was not an easy task for you to attempt because you knew you got yourself into a deep discussion against an opponent of high difficulty (I'm just making things humourous). You never were willing to admit my victory. You dislike me as a person so you didn't want to me the satisfaction of being correct. This is very common. As humans, we always want the people we like to be right.
Your argument was destroyed before it even took off. In the debating world, once your logic is proven to be married by issues, then you have essentially lost. Once your facts become opinions, you are kicked off stage. People who watch these debates are in search of hard honesty, what is known and what is proven. They want other minds to argue for them. Here, it seems that's what you need. And I'm sure you can learn something from this whenever you do try debate someone in the future.
And then there is this: In your mind, if you're wrong, you're a pedophile. That's the hidden fear isn't it? That's what's eating you up inside. You're frightened by the notion that you're attracted to children. So you created this delusion as a coping mechanism.
I know this because of the amount of inconsistencies in your arguments, how easily they were dismantled, and how oblivious you were to the objective world. Even your concept of facts versus opinions is marred. My, my, isn't that a shame?
I'm not responding from here on out. Attempt as much as you like in response. The playground is yours.
:cool2:
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Bitches, please!!! :D
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Well, I'm glad you've decided not to answer anymore (although you've already decided to leave it at that in your last comment), we'll finally be able to end this conversation with no way out. We can see the end of the tunnel!
But you're also too good to make me look like an unintellectual who thinks he's an intellectual, but as you already said, I'm just an idiot. ::)
Anyway, since this is probably my last comment in this conversation (between the two of us), I might as well get it right.
So you claim that you thought this was all for fun, in fact you are just a troll, that doesn't surprise me, I could see that your goal was not holy, that you were just there to make fun of me without having a real dialogue, to show the forum that you are the strongest, the best. You want VICTORY, and you think you got it, for you there is necessarily a winner and a loser. It is precisely this that makes you arrogant and contemptuous. It's a Kylie-like arrogance, you put yourself above the other person and you want to show that you are the best by denigrating the other person. I find it very childish. I don't know how old you are, but I'm 40 years old and I'm past that kind of childishness, I'm not looking for VICTORY, I don't care if I win or lose, all I'm looking for is an open dialogue (although I've known for a long time that this was impossible with you).
You make me laugh though with your VICTORY, but on the other hand with your very binary mind, it doesn't surprise me that you need a winner and a loser, and that you take this as a competition to the one who is right while crushing the opponent to have the VICTORY.
I know trolls like you on the Internet, you are not the first one I have met, and for me you are the scourge of the forums and other social networks.
But honestly Saradas is the last place on the Internet where I thought I would find trolls like you, we are among admirers of female muscles, our tastes on the fringe of society should make us more open-minded, and we should support each other rather than make war, because life has really not spoiled us with our taste for the rarest women in the world and the most decried.
The only trolls I could possibly think to find here are those who are only here to denigrate our tastes and make fun of muscular women (but those ones must not last long on the forum).
I could stop here, because it shows your harmful state of mind for the dialogue, and our differences of conceptions of the conversation incompatible to each other, but since this is probably my last comment, I will take the opportunity to develop everything.
In spite of all this trolling, I think there was some seriousness in your arguments, and to begin with, one of your biggest problems in this conversation (apart from the trolling) is that you fail to understand that with this kind of topic of conversation, there is very little to rely on facts, and that it is mainly approached with subjectivity, because it is related to feelings, and therefore not concrete. But it is quite possible to be objective in subjectivity, even if it seems very contradictory, because as I said before, objectivity is not only linked to known, proven and true facts, objectivity is also considering and analyzing all credible possibilities even without facts to justify them. So yes I never denied that my arguments were very theoretical, but they are theory based on many facts and coherent reasoning, in short they are objective theories. But with this kind of subject we can never be sure of anything, nor can we say that we are right, we can only discuss possibilities, and we can only doubt everything. That's why your limited mind needs true and known facts to understand things. So your limited mind is not made for this kind of subject. But you are free to open your mind a little more, consider all the theories that seem credible and coherent to you without necessarily relying only on known, proven and true facts, even if it cannot give you true certainty.
In short, this is the kind of subject where no one can be right or wrong, there is no point in trying to win, but we can all benefit from listening to each other. ^^
On the other hand we can always refute the less credible or coherent theories and put forward the most credible and coherent ones.
This is what I call an open dialogue.
So yes, it's true, I had forgotten that you had finally given an (evasive) answer to the question about the danger of our case. But this answer is so evasive, that it is as if you had not answered anything. I'm sorry, but to say that they are pedophiles so they are necessarily a danger is a very light argument, it takes much more to convince me.
First of all, to reduce this to simple masturbation on children, I find it really light, but you like to simplify everything to the maximum. Unfortunately, life is not like that, as I told you before, life is made of many nuances and subtleties, and not everything can be simplified to simple known, proven and true facts. Facts are very good to prove a thing, but there must always be an area of unknown fuzziness around where we can only theorize while waiting to find new facts to fill this area. Especially in a subject like ours which is very little known and based once again on human feelings for which it is difficult to find facts and for which one can only approach it mainly with theories.
And secondly, not all pedophiles are a danger to society, children and parents of children. They are not all big perverts who dabble in child pornography, let alone Dutroux-like psychopaths. Many of them have the same ethical standards towards children as the majority of people. And many of them have never touched a child in any way, and never want to do anything wrong or go against a child's desire, or even encourage this, and leave the children away from their own sexual desires until they die of old age. In short, they only fantasize in their corners and do not want more than that.
Besides, the law only condemns pedocriminality, that is to say those who have acted on it (a simple advance to a child is an act) or who encourage child pornography. Fantasy is not prohibited by law.
And if you go that way we are all potential rapists, and we are all a potential danger to society. One behavior leads to another, that applies to everyone.
Besides, guys like us who fantasize about female muscles, don't necessarily jump on the first muscular woman that comes along, despite the fact that the women of their fantasies are extremely rare and that many of us can spend our whole lives without ever meeting one, because they are so rare (unless we go to fairs, conventions, competitions or other events, or eventually do sessions), let alone have a love relationship with one of them.
Besides, a pedophile is not necessarily only attracted to children and may very well be satisfied with adult women in their real love and sexual relationships outside of fantasies. Most people know how to distinguish between fantasy and reality, so there is no reason why a pedophile should be any less capable.
Also, in our case, it seems to me very difficult to harm a child that cannot exist in real life. I think you have a better chance of meeting a unicorn than a Kylie, the unicorn is at least morphologically credible biologically (as long as it's not a magical unicorn that shits rainbows).
Well, you will tell me that some gymnasts can be muscular enough to trigger the fantasy, but those are even rarer than the muscular women we admire (well, a gymnast girl is not especially rare, but a gymnast girl who is muscular enough for this fantasy is much rarer), and in reality these girls are not strong enough to completely satisfy this fantasy and reality can quickly take over the fantasy to put an end to it. From 15 years old on, you can maybe find girls who are strong and muscular enough, but then it's not really pedophilia anymore, it's more like statutory rape (a 15 year old girl already has a morphology very close to that of an adult woman), it's something else again, even if it's still imoral and condemnable by the law, but once again, it's not because you fantasize about this kind of girls that you're necessarily going to act, any more than you're going to start raping adult women. Besides, the way they like these girls can hardly be found in reality, and abusing a young girl goes totally against this fantasy. Just like in the majority of fantasies about female muscles, the women and girls of these fantasies are dominant, even in non-violence, they are the ones who have the dominant or leading role in the relationships, if they are not violent with their mates, they will take care of them and protect them, not to mention the superiority of these women or girls over men. So in the worst case they are looking to be abused themselves and in the best case they are looking for some form of non violent dominance over themselves. In fact it's a very fictitious sexual fantasy that can't be found in reality, it's like fantasizing about giants women of more than 4m high. In short, in our case, there is even less chance of danger than in the majority of known cases of pedophilia.
Not to mention that what we like in our fantasies we don't necessarily like in real life, I would be surprised if those who fantasize about ultra violent muscular women who break us in two (which is not my thing at all) would like it to happen to them in reality, reality is much more painful than fantasy. So those who appreciate in their fantasies the youngs muscular and strong girls, may not appreciate them anymore when reality catches up with them because in reality these girls cannot be the same as in their fantasies. And this is what makes, among other things, generally the difference between our case and the majority of the known cases of pedophilia, what they appreciate in children can be much more easily transcribed into reality.
All this also shows that the subject of pedophilia is much more complicated than you think, and our case even more so because it is a very particular case that has never been studied by professionals, because it is not well known outside the sphere of female muscles.
Afterwards, of course, once again, what I say depends on the profiles, some profiles can be satisfied with much less, when others can be interested in children outside the fantasy of female muscles. I am talking about those who are interested in underage girls only through the prism of female muscles.
After that, as I said before, the important thing is to know your limits. I remember in a previous comment you said that the limit is age. In an ideal world, that would be the case, ideally the limit is 18 years old (or the age of majority of the country where we live), but we are in an ideal world, fantasies have no limits (17 years old or 18 years old for the fantasy it is the same thing), it is up to us to manage this limit with our morality and our conscience. So in our world which has nothing ideal, the limit is especially not to do anything compromising to a child, no inappropriate gesture, or even advances, and not to encourage child pornography.
I have much more respect for a pedophile who knows the limits that should not be exceeded than for you with your restricted and intolerant mind.
And I can also tell you that pedophilia is not a subject I take lightly, my own daughter, at the age of 8 has already been the victim of inappropriate acts by an adult male. Nothing that would traumatize her in her life, it never went very far, but enough to be alerted. A man that she saw regularly, since he came regularly to her mother's house, after our separation, made advances and inappropriate gestures to her on several occasions. When she told me all this I went to the police to file a complaint, but the mother who was protecting the man in question influenced her daughter not to tell the police anything, so the cops did nothing, but the advantage is that my daughter has never seen this man since, he was too afraid to come back. However, it marked my daughter enough that she still talks to me about it from time to time, after 3 years of the facts, and she regrets today to have hidden the truth to the police. In short, this is clearly not a subject I take lightly.
As for the feet, I'm sorry, but you can turn this around in every possible way, the feet in children being a characteristic just as common as in adults, not modifying the global aspect of the child and not giving any added value to the basic fetish, there is no reason that foot fetishists direct their fetish towards children unless they are actually sexually attracted to children, apart from their foot fetish. This is not the case for muscles. If there is one place in our conversation where the known, proven and true facts are indisputable, it is here. Muscles completely change the overall physical appearance, they are much less common in children than in adults, it is much more impressive in children than in adults, especially a girl (a child, depending on age, has clearly not the same physical capacities as an adult, it is thus much more impressive on a child, all the more a young girl) and that gives thus an added value to the fantasy of the muscles which the impressionable one is one of the engines of it (just like the superiority which can be also an added value on the child compared to the adult, the impressionable one and the superiority is rather related in this fantasy, the admiration also besides). So there are many more reasons why a person who fantasizes about female muscles could direct his fantasy towards underage girls, without being a basic pedophile. Even if this can be considered pedophilia because it is ultimately directed at children, it is still clinically based on a non-pedophilic, non-pathological fantasy that has been directed by extenuating circumstances at children. Of course, again, this does not apply to every profile in our case. All I'm saying is that there are circumstantial and extenuating reasons for linking the female muscle fantasy to underage girls, which is not the case for the foot fetish. So your example has nothing to do with our case and is totally irrelevant. Anyway, our case is so particular that I don't know if it is possible to find concrete examples that can be objectively compared to our case.
So yes, you have a point when you talk about muscles on very small children like 2 years old. It's necessarily more impressive, but there is a point where sexually it can't work anymore, there is necessarily a moment where the childish aspect takes over and puts an end to the fantasy. This limit depends on each person, but there is one for everyone. It’s the same as the other way around whose advanced age is also more impressive than middle age. If, in spite of her enormous musculature and Herculean strength, the elderly person looks too much like an old lady with wrinkles, it can put an end to the fantasy of many people. It's the same if the young girl looks too much like a little girl, it will put an end to the fantasy.
If I understood correctly, you want examples, I never wanted to divert your question intentionally, unlike you, only you asked me once and I missed it. And also I select a little what seems to me the relevant, because already our comments are very long, otherwise I write a novel.
However it's more a trick question than anything else, because you know very well that it's very difficult to give concrete examples for this kind of thing. And I also respect the anonymity of those with whom I dialogue.
However there is an example that comes to my mind: JAPAN!
The Japanese are not the best example in terms of moral values and virtues for this kind of things but there fantasizing on young girls between 13 and 18 years old is almost a normality. You're not going to tell me that all the men of the same nation are all pedophiles? You just have to look at the manga and other Japanese anime, with young girls under 18 years old who are highly sexualized, and the reactions of adult men to young girls under 18 years old who are sexualized in these works.
Young girls in ultra short school outfits, it's a big fantasy of Japanese men, there is even a whole commercial aspect on it
It is their culture that is like that.
It's because we have our moral value and our conscience as well as our culture that forbids it. We are aware of this kind of thing and our education has taught us to be careful and not to exceed the limits. But in reality, a 13 year old girl already well trained, dressed sexy can turn the head of many men in the street without them being pedophiles but their conscience and moral sense call them to order. In addition, men, compared to women, are more in search of softness and finesse because the face of women (and the overall appearance of the body when it is not muscular) is softer and finer and this is a mark of beauty for women, and this corresponds very well to teenage girls, while women are looking for more virility, hard, square features. A girl between 13 years old is much closer to an adult woman physically than a 13 year old boy is to an adult man. So without our conscience and morality calling us to order, it is easy to fall into the trap without necessarily being a pedophile.
But muscles allow some fans of female muscle to overcome this conscience, because they will feel more attracted by the impressive, admirable and superior aspect that I have talked about many times. And also because it makes them feel a bit more secure morally, because these girls can't exist in real life and even if they did they would be strong enough to defend themselves or play by their own rules.
Then there are also many people who don't want to admit it out of shame and lie to themselves, they will say that it is just admiration without sexual desires, this is very difficult to identify.
I've already talked about artists in a previous comment, this is only suppositions so it doesn't prove anything, but when an artist who fantasizes about female muscles and who is used to making works on that, suddenly starts to make underage girls with the same characteristics as the women he usually makes, it doesn't seem to me to be harmless. And this can be seen in a large part of artists of female muscles. After that, maybe it's only me who has ideas, I don't judge, I don't criticize, it's just a supposition. But I still find it hard to believe that we can transfer the object of our fantasies on the body of an underage girl just for fun.
Anyway, for a long time I didn't want to admit it and I said I didn't understand artists who make young girls with the same muscles as the women of their fantasies, until I realized that I like it too.
And yes I like strong muscular girls too, I never hid it here, I just didn't want to talk too much about myself until now. But I know what I really like and I know that it is a drift from my basic fantasy about female muscles. I know that without this female muscle fantasy, I wouldn't be interested in any underage girls. I know my feelings, and I think I'm a little better at talking about my own feelings than you are about mine. Call it pedophilia if you want, I don't think I'm sick or a danger to anyone. Besides, in real life I'm looking for a muscular woman, not an underage girl.
But for me it's more periodic, and the ¾ of the time I'm looking at muscular adult women than young girls.
So there is the impressionable, admirable and physical superiority aspect as we have already talked about, but there is also the fact that I want to please a little in these fantasies the child or the teenager in me, who has always dreamed of meeting a muscular and strong girl without ever succeeding and who is a little frustrated. Besides, in my fantasies of young girls I imagine myself as a teenager or a child.
Because I have had the fantasy of female muscles since kindergarten, as far as I can remember. At that time it was not a sexual fantasy, I was not yet old enough to think about it, it became a sexual fantasy later in my adolescence. But already in kindergarten I liked to imagine muscular and very strong girls, and as a teenager I wanted a muscular, strong and protective girlfriend. Now as an adult I am still looking for a muscular, strong and protective woman. I was married to an ordinary woman with whom I had children, but I was never fully satisfied, I was missing what I needed: a strong muscular woman. So I remained stuck in this fantasy, there is only that to satisfy me. Today we are separated and I am still looking for this muscular, strong and protective woman, but at 40 years old, I have lost a little hope. Besides, I think I'm having a bit of a mid-life crisis too, which doesn't help.
On the other hand, you, it's just an impression too, but it seems to me that you have feelings that you refute, maybe unconsciously, and that's why you're so closed-minded on the subject and that you're so arrogant, it's certainly not insignificant that we're having this conversation here, in this topic. It seems strange to me that you can read a whole story of 78 chapters about a 13 year old girl with huge muscles and superhuman strength and huge breasts (well, breasts are not the characteristic of Kylie that I like the most), who makes all the women in the world cum, without getting any satisfaction from it. And the fact that you've been reading this story since the beginning doesn't change anything. As I told you, your explanation on this subject did not really convince me. You say you don't like Kylie and the other underage girls in this story, but Kylie is the main subject of this story, the other characters (apart from Rick, Kylie's brother who the reader identifies with) are very secondary. Eventually Allison (who is only 17 years old at the beginning of the story) and who has nice attou for fantasy but who is still very secondary to Kylie and a thousand light years away from Kylie's power (especially since Allison is totally crazy about Kylie since the beginning of the story), there is also Lauren who has nice little sexual attou without being muscular or strong but who arrives very late in the story, and once again the story is Kylie. Reading this story only for the major secondary characters seems very light to me, especially 78 chapters.
With that I think I've said it all, and glad to be done with this story.
PS: My argument has never been destroyed, nor yours, it's just you who thinks this (because anyway, your goal is VICTORY), but hey it should also be able to know what those who read us think about it.
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remember when this was a story thread with feedback?
pepperidge farm remembers.
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remember when this was a story thread with feedback?
pepperidge farm remembers.
Yes, I would have preferred to talk about the story. That was the purpose of my first comment, I had made just 3 lines on this subject and it got out of hand ^^
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Well, I'm glad you've decided not to answer anymore (although you've already decided to leave it at that in your last comment), we'll finally be able to end this conversation with no way out. We can see the end of the tunnel!
But you're also too good to make me look like an unintellectual who thinks he's an intellectual, but as you already said, I'm just an idiot. ::)
Anyway, since this is probably my last comment in this conversation (between the two of us), I might as well get it right.
So you claim that you thought this was all for fun, in fact you are just a troll, that doesn't surprise me, I could see that your goal was not holy, that you were just there to make fun of me without having a real dialogue, to show the forum that you are the strongest, the best. You want VICTORY, and you think you got it, for you there is necessarily a winner and a loser. It is precisely this that makes you arrogant and contemptuous. It's a Kylie-like arrogance, you put yourself above the other person and you want to show that you are the best by denigrating the other person. I find it very childish. I don't know how old you are, but I'm 40 years old and I'm past that kind of childishness, I'm not looking for VICTORY, I don't care if I win or lose, all I'm looking for is an open dialogue (although I've known for a long time that this was impossible with you).
You make me laugh though with your VICTORY, but on the other hand with your very binary mind, it doesn't surprise me that you need a winner and a loser, and that you take this as a competition to the one who is right while crushing the opponent to have the VICTORY.
I know trolls like you on the Internet, you are not the first one I have met, and for me you are the scourge of the forums and other social networks.
But honestly Saradas is the last place on the Internet where I thought I would find trolls like you, we are among admirers of female muscles, our tastes on the fringe of society should make us more open-minded, and we should support each other rather than make war, because life has really not spoiled us with our taste for the rarest women in the world and the most decried.
The only trolls I could possibly think to find here are those who are only here to denigrate our tastes and make fun of muscular women (but those ones must not last long on the forum).
I could stop here, because it shows your harmful state of mind for the dialogue, and our differences of conceptions of the conversation incompatible to each other, but since this is probably my last comment, I will take the opportunity to develop everything.
In spite of all this trolling, I think there was some seriousness in your arguments, and to begin with, one of your biggest problems in this conversation (apart from the trolling) is that you fail to understand that with this kind of topic of conversation, there is very little to rely on facts, and that it is mainly approached with subjectivity, because it is related to feelings, and therefore not concrete. But it is quite possible to be objective in subjectivity, even if it seems very contradictory, because as I said before, objectivity is not only linked to known, proven and true facts, objectivity is also considering and analyzing all credible possibilities even without facts to justify them. So yes I never denied that my arguments were very theoretical, but they are theory based on many facts and coherent reasoning, in short they are objective theories. But with this kind of subject we can never be sure of anything, nor can we say that we are right, we can only discuss possibilities, and we can only doubt everything. That's why your limited mind needs true and known facts to understand things. So your limited mind is not made for this kind of subject. But you are free to open your mind a little more, consider all the theories that seem credible and coherent to you without necessarily relying only on known, proven and true facts, even if it cannot give you true certainty.
In short, this is the kind of subject where no one can be right or wrong, there is no point in trying to win, but we can all benefit from listening to each other. ^^
On the other hand we can always refute the less credible or coherent theories and put forward the most credible and coherent ones.
This is what I call an open dialogue.
So yes, it's true, I had forgotten that you had finally given an (evasive) answer to the question about the danger of our case. But this answer is so evasive, that it is as if you had not answered anything. I'm sorry, but to say that they are pedophiles so they are necessarily a danger is a very light argument, it takes much more to convince me.
First of all, to reduce this to simple masturbation on children, I find it really light, but you like to simplify everything to the maximum. Unfortunately, life is not like that, as I told you before, life is made of many nuances and subtleties, and not everything can be simplified to simple known, proven and true facts. Facts are very good to prove a thing, but there must always be an area of unknown fuzziness around where we can only theorize while waiting to find new facts to fill this area. Especially in a subject like ours which is very little known and based once again on human feelings for which it is difficult to find facts and for which one can only approach it mainly with theories.
And secondly, not all pedophiles are a danger to society, children and parents of children. They are not all big perverts who dabble in child pornography, let alone Dutroux-like psychopaths. Many of them have the same ethical standards towards children as the majority of people. And many of them have never touched a child in any way, and never want to do anything wrong or go against a child's desire, or even encourage this, and leave the children away from their own sexual desires until they die of old age. In short, they only fantasize in their corners and do not want more than that.
Besides, the law only condemns pedocriminality, that is to say those who have acted on it (a simple advance to a child is an act) or who encourage child pornography. Fantasy is not prohibited by law.
And if you go that way we are all potential rapists, and we are all a potential danger to society. One behavior leads to another, that applies to everyone.
Besides, guys like us who fantasize about female muscles, don't necessarily jump on the first muscular woman that comes along, despite the fact that the women of their fantasies are extremely rare and that many of us can spend our whole lives without ever meeting one, because they are so rare (unless we go to fairs, conventions, competitions or other events, or eventually do sessions), let alone have a love relationship with one of them.
Besides, a pedophile is not necessarily only attracted to children and may very well be satisfied with adult women in their real love and sexual relationships outside of fantasies. Most people know how to distinguish between fantasy and reality, so there is no reason why a pedophile should be any less capable.
Also, in our case, it seems to me very difficult to harm a child that cannot exist in real life. I think you have a better chance of meeting a unicorn than a Kylie, the unicorn is at least morphologically credible biologically (as long as it's not a magical unicorn that shits rainbows).
Well, you will tell me that some gymnasts can be muscular enough to trigger the fantasy, but those are even rarer than the muscular women we admire (well, a gymnast girl is not especially rare, but a gymnast girl who is muscular enough for this fantasy is much rarer), and in reality these girls are not strong enough to completely satisfy this fantasy and reality can quickly take over the fantasy to put an end to it. From 15 years old on, you can maybe find girls who are strong and muscular enough, but then it's not really pedophilia anymore, it's more like statutory rape (a 15 year old girl already has a morphology very close to that of an adult woman), it's something else again, even if it's still imoral and condemnable by the law, but once again, it's not because you fantasize about this kind of girls that you're necessarily going to act, any more than you're going to start raping adult women. Besides, the way they like these girls can hardly be found in reality, and abusing a young girl goes totally against this fantasy. Just like in the majority of fantasies about female muscles, the women and girls of these fantasies are dominant, even in non-violence, they are the ones who have the dominant or leading role in the relationships, if they are not violent with their mates, they will take care of them and protect them, not to mention the superiority of these women or girls over men. So in the worst case they are looking to be abused themselves and in the best case they are looking for some form of non violent dominance over themselves. In fact it's a very fictitious sexual fantasy that can't be found in reality, it's like fantasizing about giants women of more than 4m high. In short, in our case, there is even less chance of danger than in the majority of known cases of pedophilia.
Not to mention that what we like in our fantasies we don't necessarily like in real life, I would be surprised if those who fantasize about ultra violent muscular women who break us in two (which is not my thing at all) would like it to happen to them in reality, reality is much more painful than fantasy. So those who appreciate in their fantasies the youngs muscular and strong girls, may not appreciate them anymore when reality catches up with them because in reality these girls cannot be the same as in their fantasies. And this is what makes, among other things, generally the difference between our case and the majority of the known cases of pedophilia, what they appreciate in children can be much more easily transcribed into reality.
All this also shows that the subject of pedophilia is much more complicated than you think, and our case even more so because it is a very particular case that has never been studied by professionals, because it is not well known outside the sphere of female muscles.
Afterwards, of course, once again, what I say depends on the profiles, some profiles can be satisfied with much less, when others can be interested in children outside the fantasy of female muscles. I am talking about those who are interested in underage girls only through the prism of female muscles.
After that, as I said before, the important thing is to know your limits. I remember in a previous comment you said that the limit is age. In an ideal world, that would be the case, ideally the limit is 18 years old (or the age of majority of the country where we live), but we are in an ideal world, fantasies have no limits (17 years old or 18 years old for the fantasy it is the same thing), it is up to us to manage this limit with our morality and our conscience. So in our world which has nothing ideal, the limit is especially not to do anything compromising to a child, no inappropriate gesture, or even advances, and not to encourage child pornography.
I have much more respect for a pedophile who knows the limits that should not be exceeded than for you with your restricted and intolerant mind.
And I can also tell you that pedophilia is not a subject I take lightly, my own daughter, at the age of 8 has already been the victim of inappropriate acts by an adult male. Nothing that would traumatize her in her life, it never went very far, but enough to be alerted. A man that she saw regularly, since he came regularly to her mother's house, after our separation, made advances and inappropriate gestures to her on several occasions. When she told me all this I went to the police to file a complaint, but the mother who was protecting the man in question influenced her daughter not to tell the police anything, so the cops did nothing, but the advantage is that my daughter has never seen this man since, he was too afraid to come back. However, it marked my daughter enough that she still talks to me about it from time to time, after 3 years of the facts, and she regrets today to have hidden the truth to the police. In short, this is clearly not a subject I take lightly.
As for the feet, I'm sorry, but you can turn this around in every possible way, the feet in children being a characteristic just as common as in adults, not modifying the global aspect of the child and not giving any added value to the basic fetish, there is no reason that foot fetishists direct their fetish towards children unless they are actually sexually attracted to children, apart from their foot fetish. This is not the case for muscles. If there is one place in our conversation where the known, proven and true facts are indisputable, it is here. Muscles completely change the overall physical appearance, they are much less common in children than in adults, it is much more impressive in children than in adults, especially a girl (a child, depending on age, has clearly not the same physical capacities as an adult, it is thus much more impressive on a child, all the more a young girl) and that gives thus an added value to the fantasy of the muscles which the impressionable one is one of the engines of it (just like the superiority which can be also an added value on the child compared to the adult, the impressionable one and the superiority is rather related in this fantasy, the admiration also besides). So there are many more reasons why a person who fantasizes about female muscles could direct his fantasy towards underage girls, without being a basic pedophile. Even if this can be considered pedophilia because it is ultimately directed at children, it is still clinically based on a non-pedophilic, non-pathological fantasy that has been directed by extenuating circumstances at children. Of course, again, this does not apply to every profile in our case. All I'm saying is that there are circumstantial and extenuating reasons for linking the female muscle fantasy to underage girls, which is not the case for the foot fetish. So your example has nothing to do with our case and is totally irrelevant. Anyway, our case is so particular that I don't know if it is possible to find concrete examples that can be objectively compared to our case.
So yes, you have a point when you talk about muscles on very small children like 2 years old. It's necessarily more impressive, but there is a point where sexually it can't work anymore, there is necessarily a moment where the childish aspect takes over and puts an end to the fantasy. This limit depends on each person, but there is one for everyone. It’s the same as the other way around whose advanced age is also more impressive than middle age. If, in spite of her enormous musculature and Herculean strength, the elderly person looks too much like an old lady with wrinkles, it can put an end to the fantasy of many people. It's the same if the young girl looks too much like a little girl, it will put an end to the fantasy.
If I understood correctly, you want examples, I never wanted to divert your question intentionally, unlike you, only you asked me once and I missed it. And also I select a little what seems to me the relevant, because already our comments are very long, otherwise I write a novel.
However it's more a trick question than anything else, because you know very well that it's very difficult to give concrete examples for this kind of thing. And I also respect the anonymity of those with whom I dialogue.
However there is an example that comes to my mind: JAPAN!
The Japanese are not the best example in terms of moral values and virtues for this kind of things but there fantasizing on young girls between 13 and 18 years old is almost a normality. You're not going to tell me that all the men of the same nation are all pedophiles? You just have to look at the manga and other Japanese anime, with young girls under 18 years old who are highly sexualized, and the reactions of adult men to young girls under 18 years old who are sexualized in these works.
Young girls in ultra short school outfits, it's a big fantasy of Japanese men, there is even a whole commercial aspect on it
It is their culture that is like that.
It's because we have our moral value and our conscience as well as our culture that forbids it. We are aware of this kind of thing and our education has taught us to be careful and not to exceed the limits. But in reality, a 13 year old girl already well trained, dressed sexy can turn the head of many men in the street without them being pedophiles but their conscience and moral sense call them to order. In addition, men, compared to women, are more in search of softness and finesse because the face of women (and the overall appearance of the body when it is not muscular) is softer and finer and this is a mark of beauty for women, and this corresponds very well to teenage girls, while women are looking for more virility, hard, square features. A girl between 13 years old is much closer to an adult woman physically than a 13 year old boy is to an adult man. So without our conscience and morality calling us to order, it is easy to fall into the trap without necessarily being a pedophile.
But muscles allow some fans of female muscle to overcome this conscience, because they will feel more attracted by the impressive, admirable and superior aspect that I have talked about many times. And also because it makes them feel a bit more secure morally, because these girls can't exist in real life and even if they did they would be strong enough to defend themselves or play by their own rules.
Then there are also many people who don't want to admit it out of shame and lie to themselves, they will say that it is just admiration without sexual desires, this is very difficult to identify.
I've already talked about artists in a previous comment, this is only suppositions so it doesn't prove anything, but when an artist who fantasizes about female muscles and who is used to making works on that, suddenly starts to make underage girls with the same characteristics as the women he usually makes, it doesn't seem to me to be harmless. And this can be seen in a large part of artists of female muscles. After that, maybe it's only me who has ideas, I don't judge, I don't criticize, it's just a supposition. But I still find it hard to believe that we can transfer the object of our fantasies on the body of an underage girl just for fun.
Anyway, for a long time I didn't want to admit it and I said I didn't understand artists who make young girls with the same muscles as the women of their fantasies, until I realized that I like it too.
And yes I like strong muscular girls too, I never hid it here, I just didn't want to talk too much about myself until now. But I know what I really like and I know that it is a drift from my basic fantasy about female muscles. I know that without this female muscle fantasy, I wouldn't be interested in any underage girls. I know my feelings, and I think I'm a little better at talking about my own feelings than you are about mine. Call it pedophilia if you want, I don't think I'm sick or a danger to anyone. Besides, in real life I'm looking for a muscular woman, not an underage girl.
But for me it's more periodic, and the ¾ of the time I'm looking at muscular adult women than young girls.
So there is the impressionable, admirable and physical superiority aspect as we have already talked about, but there is also the fact that I want to please a little in these fantasies the child or the teenager in me, who has always dreamed of meeting a muscular and strong girl without ever succeeding and who is a little frustrated. Besides, in my fantasies of young girls I imagine myself as a teenager or a child.
Because I have had the fantasy of female muscles since kindergarten, as far as I can remember. At that time it was not a sexual fantasy, I was not yet old enough to think about it, it became a sexual fantasy later in my adolescence. But already in kindergarten I liked to imagine muscular and very strong girls, and as a teenager I wanted a muscular, strong and protective girlfriend. Now as an adult I am still looking for a muscular, strong and protective woman. I was married to an ordinary woman with whom I had children, but I was never fully satisfied, I was missing what I needed: a strong muscular woman. So I remained stuck in this fantasy, there is only that to satisfy me. Today we are separated and I am still looking for this muscular, strong and protective woman, but at 40 years old, I have lost a little hope. Besides, I think I'm having a bit of a mid-life crisis too, which doesn't help.
On the other hand, you, it's just an impression too, but it seems to me that you have feelings that you refute, maybe unconsciously, and that's why you're so closed-minded on the subject and that you're so arrogant, it's certainly not insignificant that we're having this conversation here, in this topic. It seems strange to me that you can read a whole story of 78 chapters about a 13 year old girl with huge muscles and superhuman strength and huge breasts (well, breasts are not the characteristic of Kylie that I like the most), who makes all the women in the world cum, without getting any satisfaction from it. And the fact that you've been reading this story since the beginning doesn't change anything. As I told you, your explanation on this subject did not really convince me. You say you don't like Kylie and the other underage girls in this story, but Kylie is the main subject of this story, the other characters (apart from Rick, Kylie's brother who the reader identifies with) are very secondary. Eventually Allison (who is only 17 years old at the beginning of the story) and who has nice attou for fantasy but who is still very secondary to Kylie and a thousand light years away from Kylie's power (especially since Allison is totally crazy about Kylie since the beginning of the story), there is also Lauren who has nice little sexual attou without being muscular or strong but who arrives very late in the story, and once again the story is Kylie. Reading this story only for the major secondary characters seems very light to me, especially 78 chapters.
With that I think I've said it all, and glad to be done with this story.
PS: My argument has never been destroyed, nor yours, it's just you who thinks this (because anyway, your goal is VICTORY), but hey it should also be able to know what those who read us think about it.
Yeah, I know I promised not to respond. and for the most part I won't, but the part about Japan:
"However there is an example that comes to my mind: JAPAN!
The Japanese are not the best example in terms of moral values and virtues for this kind of things but there fantasizing on young girls between 13 and 18 years old is almost a normality. You're not going to tell me that all the men of the same nation are all pedophiles? You just have to look at the manga and other Japanese anime, with young girls under 18 years old who are highly sexualized, and the reactions of adult men to young girls under 18 years old who are sexualized in these works.
Young girls in ultra short school outfits, it's a big fantasy of Japanese men, there is even a whole commercial aspect on it
It is their culture that is like that."
I grew up and lived in Japan all my life, so this is news to me. We don't all (nor most of us) fantasize about 13- to 17-year-olds and under. People are literally sickened by the notion and we have our own laws catering to this sort of behavior. The age of consent is indeed 13 for the most part, but that doesn't mean a grown man can have sex with them or distribute porn of them. And yes you didn't mention that, but it's important to note regardless since it's typically misconstrued from other countries.
The manga and Japanese anime? Do you know how many grown men in Japan are obsessed with those forms of entertainment? Not much. Teenagers and outside cultures are more interested statistically. And there are laws that prevent sexualization of underage children and the distribution of child pornography in Japan as well (under 18-year-olds). High skirts and things like that aren't considered sexualization of children.
"Young girls in ultra short school outfits, it's a big fantasy of Japanese men, there is even a whole commercial aspect on it
It is their culture that is like that."
Uhhhhh, no it's not. Commercials such as? I haven't seen any. A lot of the commercials have women over 18, and the ones with children certainly don't have any sexual aspects. And even if they were shown, most people would find it detestable. Again, pedophilia and the sexualisation of children is seen as the same here as anywhere else. So I'm not sure you've researched my country enough.
"It is their culture that is like that."
For the little girls dressed in skimpy skirts and singing for middle-aged men? Yeah, that's pretty pedophilic. And people commonly call this out. It's not normal for grown men over here to be sexually attracted to that sort of behaviour.
But either way, this isn't a grey area. Men attracted to this sort of sexual content are still pedophiles. The legal age of majority over here is 18, and men that engage in sexual activity with underage children are still pedophiles. Men that possess child pornography, graphical or real, are charged. So no, we're indeed not all pedophiles, and we don't have a culture built around this.
That's all.
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Well, I'm glad you've decided not to answer anymore (although you've already decided to leave it at that in your last comment), we'll finally be able to end this conversation with no way out. We can see the end of the tunnel!
But you're also too good to make me look like an unintellectual who thinks he's an intellectual, but as you already said, I'm just an idiot. ::)
Anyway, since this is probably my last comment in this conversation (between the two of us), I might as well get it right.
So you claim that you thought this was all for fun, in fact you are just a troll, that doesn't surprise me, I could see that your goal was not holy, that you were just there to make fun of me without having a real dialogue, to show the forum that you are the strongest, the best. You want VICTORY, and you think you got it, for you there is necessarily a winner and a loser. It is precisely this that makes you arrogant and contemptuous. It's a Kylie-like arrogance, you put yourself above the other person and you want to show that you are the best by denigrating the other person. I find it very childish. I don't know how old you are, but I'm 40 years old and I'm past that kind of childishness, I'm not looking for VICTORY, I don't care if I win or lose, all I'm looking for is an open dialogue (although I've known for a long time that this was impossible with you).
You make me laugh though with your VICTORY, but on the other hand with your very binary mind, it doesn't surprise me that you need a winner and a loser, and that you take this as a competition to the one who is right while crushing the opponent to have the VICTORY.
I know trolls like you on the Internet, you are not the first one I have met, and for me you are the scourge of the forums and other social networks.
But honestly Saradas is the last place on the Internet where I thought I would find trolls like you, we are among admirers of female muscles, our tastes on the fringe of society should make us more open-minded, and we should support each other rather than make war, because life has really not spoiled us with our taste for the rarest women in the world and the most decried.
The only trolls I could possibly think to find here are those who are only here to denigrate our tastes and make fun of muscular women (but those ones must not last long on the forum).
I could stop here, because it shows your harmful state of mind for the dialogue, and our differences of conceptions of the conversation incompatible to each other, but since this is probably my last comment, I will take the opportunity to develop everything.
In spite of all this trolling, I think there was some seriousness in your arguments, and to begin with, one of your biggest problems in this conversation (apart from the trolling) is that you fail to understand that with this kind of topic of conversation, there is very little to rely on facts, and that it is mainly approached with subjectivity, because it is related to feelings, and therefore not concrete. But it is quite possible to be objective in subjectivity, even if it seems very contradictory, because as I said before, objectivity is not only linked to known, proven and true facts, objectivity is also considering and analyzing all credible possibilities even without facts to justify them. So yes I never denied that my arguments were very theoretical, but they are theory based on many facts and coherent reasoning, in short they are objective theories. But with this kind of subject we can never be sure of anything, nor can we say that we are right, we can only discuss possibilities, and we can only doubt everything. That's why your limited mind needs true and known facts to understand things. So your limited mind is not made for this kind of subject. But you are free to open your mind a little more, consider all the theories that seem credible and coherent to you without necessarily relying only on known, proven and true facts, even if it cannot give you true certainty.
In short, this is the kind of subject where no one can be right or wrong, there is no point in trying to win, but we can all benefit from listening to each other. ^^
On the other hand we can always refute the less credible or coherent theories and put forward the most credible and coherent ones.
This is what I call an open dialogue.
So yes, it's true, I had forgotten that you had finally given an (evasive) answer to the question about the danger of our case. But this answer is so evasive, that it is as if you had not answered anything. I'm sorry, but to say that they are pedophiles so they are necessarily a danger is a very light argument, it takes much more to convince me.
First of all, to reduce this to simple masturbation on children, I find it really light, but you like to simplify everything to the maximum. Unfortunately, life is not like that, as I told you before, life is made of many nuances and subtleties, and not everything can be simplified to simple known, proven and true facts. Facts are very good to prove a thing, but there must always be an area of unknown fuzziness around where we can only theorize while waiting to find new facts to fill this area. Especially in a subject like ours which is very little known and based once again on human feelings for which it is difficult to find facts and for which one can only approach it mainly with theories.
And secondly, not all pedophiles are a danger to society, children and parents of children. They are not all big perverts who dabble in child pornography, let alone Dutroux-like psychopaths. Many of them have the same ethical standards towards children as the majority of people. And many of them have never touched a child in any way, and never want to do anything wrong or go against a child's desire, or even encourage this, and leave the children away from their own sexual desires until they die of old age. In short, they only fantasize in their corners and do not want more than that.
Besides, the law only condemns pedocriminality, that is to say those who have acted on it (a simple advance to a child is an act) or who encourage child pornography. Fantasy is not prohibited by law.
And if you go that way we are all potential rapists, and we are all a potential danger to society. One behavior leads to another, that applies to everyone.
Besides, guys like us who fantasize about female muscles, don't necessarily jump on the first muscular woman that comes along, despite the fact that the women of their fantasies are extremely rare and that many of us can spend our whole lives without ever meeting one, because they are so rare (unless we go to fairs, conventions, competitions or other events, or eventually do sessions), let alone have a love relationship with one of them.
Besides, a pedophile is not necessarily only attracted to children and may very well be satisfied with adult women in their real love and sexual relationships outside of fantasies. Most people know how to distinguish between fantasy and reality, so there is no reason why a pedophile should be any less capable.
Also, in our case, it seems to me very difficult to harm a child that cannot exist in real life. I think you have a better chance of meeting a unicorn than a Kylie, the unicorn is at least morphologically credible biologically (as long as it's not a magical unicorn that shits rainbows).
Well, you will tell me that some gymnasts can be muscular enough to trigger the fantasy, but those are even rarer than the muscular women we admire (well, a gymnast girl is not especially rare, but a gymnast girl who is muscular enough for this fantasy is much rarer), and in reality these girls are not strong enough to completely satisfy this fantasy and reality can quickly take over the fantasy to put an end to it. From 15 years old on, you can maybe find girls who are strong and muscular enough, but then it's not really pedophilia anymore, it's more like statutory rape (a 15 year old girl already has a morphology very close to that of an adult woman), it's something else again, even if it's still imoral and condemnable by the law, but once again, it's not because you fantasize about this kind of girls that you're necessarily going to act, any more than you're going to start raping adult women. Besides, the way they like these girls can hardly be found in reality, and abusing a young girl goes totally against this fantasy. Just like in the majority of fantasies about female muscles, the women and girls of these fantasies are dominant, even in non-violence, they are the ones who have the dominant or leading role in the relationships, if they are not violent with their mates, they will take care of them and protect them, not to mention the superiority of these women or girls over men. So in the worst case they are looking to be abused themselves and in the best case they are looking for some form of non violent dominance over themselves. In fact it's a very fictitious sexual fantasy that can't be found in reality, it's like fantasizing about giants women of more than 4m high. In short, in our case, there is even less chance of danger than in the majority of known cases of pedophilia.
Not to mention that what we like in our fantasies we don't necessarily like in real life, I would be surprised if those who fantasize about ultra violent muscular women who break us in two (which is not my thing at all) would like it to happen to them in reality, reality is much more painful than fantasy. So those who appreciate in their fantasies the youngs muscular and strong girls, may not appreciate them anymore when reality catches up with them because in reality these girls cannot be the same as in their fantasies. And this is what makes, among other things, generally the difference between our case and the majority of the known cases of pedophilia, what they appreciate in children can be much more easily transcribed into reality.
All this also shows that the subject of pedophilia is much more complicated than you think, and our case even more so because it is a very particular case that has never been studied by professionals, because it is not well known outside the sphere of female muscles.
Afterwards, of course, once again, what I say depends on the profiles, some profiles can be satisfied with much less, when others can be interested in children outside the fantasy of female muscles. I am talking about those who are interested in underage girls only through the prism of female muscles.
After that, as I said before, the important thing is to know your limits. I remember in a previous comment you said that the limit is age. In an ideal world, that would be the case, ideally the limit is 18 years old (or the age of majority of the country where we live), but we are in an ideal world, fantasies have no limits (17 years old or 18 years old for the fantasy it is the same thing), it is up to us to manage this limit with our morality and our conscience. So in our world which has nothing ideal, the limit is especially not to do anything compromising to a child, no inappropriate gesture, or even advances, and not to encourage child pornography.
I have much more respect for a pedophile who knows the limits that should not be exceeded than for you with your restricted and intolerant mind.
And I can also tell you that pedophilia is not a subject I take lightly, my own daughter, at the age of 8 has already been the victim of inappropriate acts by an adult male. Nothing that would traumatize her in her life, it never went very far, but enough to be alerted. A man that she saw regularly, since he came regularly to her mother's house, after our separation, made advances and inappropriate gestures to her on several occasions. When she told me all this I went to the police to file a complaint, but the mother who was protecting the man in question influenced her daughter not to tell the police anything, so the cops did nothing, but the advantage is that my daughter has never seen this man since, he was too afraid to come back. However, it marked my daughter enough that she still talks to me about it from time to time, after 3 years of the facts, and she regrets today to have hidden the truth to the police. In short, this is clearly not a subject I take lightly.
As for the feet, I'm sorry, but you can turn this around in every possible way, the feet in children being a characteristic just as common as in adults, not modifying the global aspect of the child and not giving any added value to the basic fetish, there is no reason that foot fetishists direct their fetish towards children unless they are actually sexually attracted to children, apart from their foot fetish. This is not the case for muscles. If there is one place in our conversation where the known, proven and true facts are indisputable, it is here. Muscles completely change the overall physical appearance, they are much less common in children than in adults, it is much more impressive in children than in adults, especially a girl (a child, depending on age, has clearly not the same physical capacities as an adult, it is thus much more impressive on a child, all the more a young girl) and that gives thus an added value to the fantasy of the muscles which the impressionable one is one of the engines of it (just like the superiority which can be also an added value on the child compared to the adult, the impressionable one and the superiority is rather related in this fantasy, the admiration also besides). So there are many more reasons why a person who fantasizes about female muscles could direct his fantasy towards underage girls, without being a basic pedophile. Even if this can be considered pedophilia because it is ultimately directed at children, it is still clinically based on a non-pedophilic, non-pathological fantasy that has been directed by extenuating circumstances at children. Of course, again, this does not apply to every profile in our case. All I'm saying is that there are circumstantial and extenuating reasons for linking the female muscle fantasy to underage girls, which is not the case for the foot fetish. So your example has nothing to do with our case and is totally irrelevant. Anyway, our case is so particular that I don't know if it is possible to find concrete examples that can be objectively compared to our case.
So yes, you have a point when you talk about muscles on very small children like 2 years old. It's necessarily more impressive, but there is a point where sexually it can't work anymore, there is necessarily a moment where the childish aspect takes over and puts an end to the fantasy. This limit depends on each person, but there is one for everyone. It’s the same as the other way around whose advanced age is also more impressive than middle age. If, in spite of her enormous musculature and Herculean strength, the elderly person looks too much like an old lady with wrinkles, it can put an end to the fantasy of many people. It's the same if the young girl looks too much like a little girl, it will put an end to the fantasy.
If I understood correctly, you want examples, I never wanted to divert your question intentionally, unlike you, only you asked me once and I missed it. And also I select a little what seems to me the relevant, because already our comments are very long, otherwise I write a novel.
However it's more a trick question than anything else, because you know very well that it's very difficult to give concrete examples for this kind of thing. And I also respect the anonymity of those with whom I dialogue.
However there is an example that comes to my mind: JAPAN!
The Japanese are not the best example in terms of moral values and virtues for this kind of things but there fantasizing on young girls between 13 and 18 years old is almost a normality. You're not going to tell me that all the men of the same nation are all pedophiles? You just have to look at the manga and other Japanese anime, with young girls under 18 years old who are highly sexualized, and the reactions of adult men to young girls under 18 years old who are sexualized in these works.
Young girls in ultra short school outfits, it's a big fantasy of Japanese men, there is even a whole commercial aspect on it
It is their culture that is like that.
It's because we have our moral value and our conscience as well as our culture that forbids it. We are aware of this kind of thing and our education has taught us to be careful and not to exceed the limits. But in reality, a 13 year old girl already well trained, dressed sexy can turn the head of many men in the street without them being pedophiles but their conscience and moral sense call them to order. In addition, men, compared to women, are more in search of softness and finesse because the face of women (and the overall appearance of the body when it is not muscular) is softer and finer and this is a mark of beauty for women, and this corresponds very well to teenage girls, while women are looking for more virility, hard, square features. A girl between 13 years old is much closer to an adult woman physically than a 13 year old boy is to an adult man. So without our conscience and morality calling us to order, it is easy to fall into the trap without necessarily being a pedophile.
But muscles allow some fans of female muscle to overcome this conscience, because they will feel more attracted by the impressive, admirable and superior aspect that I have talked about many times. And also because it makes them feel a bit more secure morally, because these girls can't exist in real life and even if they did they would be strong enough to defend themselves or play by their own rules.
Then there are also many people who don't want to admit it out of shame and lie to themselves, they will say that it is just admiration without sexual desires, this is very difficult to identify.
I've already talked about artists in a previous comment, this is only suppositions so it doesn't prove anything, but when an artist who fantasizes about female muscles and who is used to making works on that, suddenly starts to make underage girls with the same characteristics as the women he usually makes, it doesn't seem to me to be harmless. And this can be seen in a large part of artists of female muscles. After that, maybe it's only me who has ideas, I don't judge, I don't criticize, it's just a supposition. But I still find it hard to believe that we can transfer the object of our fantasies on the body of an underage girl just for fun.
Anyway, for a long time I didn't want to admit it and I said I didn't understand artists who make young girls with the same muscles as the women of their fantasies, until I realized that I like it too.
And yes I like strong muscular girls too, I never hid it here, I just didn't want to talk too much about myself until now. But I know what I really like and I know that it is a drift from my basic fantasy about female muscles. I know that without this female muscle fantasy, I wouldn't be interested in any underage girls. I know my feelings, and I think I'm a little better at talking about my own feelings than you are about mine. Call it pedophilia if you want, I don't think I'm sick or a danger to anyone. Besides, in real life I'm looking for a muscular woman, not an underage girl.
But for me it's more periodic, and the ¾ of the time I'm looking at muscular adult women than young girls.
So there is the impressionable, admirable and physical superiority aspect as we have already talked about, but there is also the fact that I want to please a little in these fantasies the child or the teenager in me, who has always dreamed of meeting a muscular and strong girl without ever succeeding and who is a little frustrated. Besides, in my fantasies of young girls I imagine myself as a teenager or a child.
Because I have had the fantasy of female muscles since kindergarten, as far as I can remember. At that time it was not a sexual fantasy, I was not yet old enough to think about it, it became a sexual fantasy later in my adolescence. But already in kindergarten I liked to imagine muscular and very strong girls, and as a teenager I wanted a muscular, strong and protective girlfriend. Now as an adult I am still looking for a muscular, strong and protective woman. I was married to an ordinary woman with whom I had children, but I was never fully satisfied, I was missing what I needed: a strong muscular woman. So I remained stuck in this fantasy, there is only that to satisfy me. Today we are separated and I am still looking for this muscular, strong and protective woman, but at 40 years old, I have lost a little hope. Besides, I think I'm having a bit of a mid-life crisis too, which doesn't help.
On the other hand, you, it's just an impression too, but it seems to me that you have feelings that you refute, maybe unconsciously, and that's why you're so closed-minded on the subject and that you're so arrogant, it's certainly not insignificant that we're having this conversation here, in this topic. It seems strange to me that you can read a whole story of 78 chapters about a 13 year old girl with huge muscles and superhuman strength and huge breasts (well, breasts are not the characteristic of Kylie that I like the most), who makes all the women in the world cum, without getting any satisfaction from it. And the fact that you've been reading this story since the beginning doesn't change anything. As I told you, your explanation on this subject did not really convince me. You say you don't like Kylie and the other underage girls in this story, but Kylie is the main subject of this story, the other characters (apart from Rick, Kylie's brother who the reader identifies with) are very secondary. Eventually Allison (who is only 17 years old at the beginning of the story) and who has nice attou for fantasy but who is still very secondary to Kylie and a thousand light years away from Kylie's power (especially since Allison is totally crazy about Kylie since the beginning of the story), there is also Lauren who has nice little sexual attou without being muscular or strong but who arrives very late in the story, and once again the story is Kylie. Reading this story only for the major secondary characters seems very light to me, especially 78 chapters.
With that I think I've said it all, and glad to be done with this story.
PS: My argument has never been destroyed, nor yours, it's just you who thinks this (because anyway, your goal is VICTORY), but hey it should also be able to know what those who read us think about it.
I think if you like underage girl its pedophile.
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and men that engage in sexual activity with underage children are still pedophiles. Men that possess child pornography, graphical or real, are charged.
Yes, well, I didn't talk about sexual activity or pornography. Only fantasy and sexualization (sexualization does not mean "sexual activities" or "pornography" but representations of young girls in provocative outfits and poses").
In fact, the topic of our conversation was never about sexual activity or pornography.
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I think if you like underage girl its pedophile.
I think what is most important to know is whether under the conditions of our particular case, it is clinically a mental illness and whether this constitutes a danger to society (especially to children). ^^
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and men that engage in sexual activity with underage children are still pedophiles. Men that possess child pornography, graphical or real, are charged.
Yes, well, I didn't talk about sexual activity or pornography. Only fantasy and sexualization (sexualization does not mean "sexual activities" or "pornography" but representations of young girls in provocative outfits and poses").
In fact, the topic of our conversation was never about sexual activity or pornography.
""However there is an example that comes to my mind: JAPAN!
The Japanese are not the best example in terms of moral values and virtues for this kind of things but there fantasizing on young girls between 13 and 18 years old is almost a normality. You're not going to tell me that all the men of the same nation are all pedophiles? You just have to look at the manga and other Japanese anime, with young girls under 18 years old who are highly sexualized, and the reactions of adult men to young girls under 18 years old who are sexualized in these works.
Young girls in ultra short school outfits, it's a big fantasy of Japanese men, there is even a whole commercial aspect on it
It is their culture that is like that.""
Everything in bold is incorrect.
Our culture isn't like this. People are not pedophiles because women wear high skirts in manga and anime designed for teenagers and outside cultures. Art pieces that include sexual content with underage characters however: people [sexually]attracted to those are pedophiles. And most men over here aren't interested in that sort of thing, as I already said, and detest people that are [sexually] attracted to it. Any work that caters to someone's kink is treated the same. A child that's 6 feet tall and dominates people because of it is kink-content, and men [sexually] attracted to it are deemed pedophiles because they fit the criteria of a pedophile.
In this case, you are attracted to muscles on a minor, and therefore you are a pedophile because you are attracted to a feature possessed by a child. It doesn't matter if you say you're attracted to only the muscles, you are still a pedophile because you exhibit sexual attraction towards a minor which may become more severe, as is with the case with a lot of caught pedophiles. Even if it doesn't become more severe, even if you stay at home and nobody finds out, you're still a pedophile. There is no changing that. The nuances exist only in your mind and ignore the big picture.
With Japan, it was funny to see you mess up simple fragments of our culture. You said underage women is a big [sexual] fantasy for [all] men in Japan (I say all because later on you say, "You're not going to tell me that all the men of the same nation are all pedophiles?"
It isn't a big sexual fantasy and we detest it. We commonly call out the minority of men that are sexually attracted to these women, and that's what we're talking about here. We're talking about whether it is pedophilia to be [sexually] attracted to muscles on young girls, and I have already proven by definition that it is pedophilia. You have to explain why the definition is wrong or else be quiet. You said already that it may be considered pedophilia by the definition, so I have no idea why you're still continuing.
"Yes, well, I didn't talk about sexual activity or pornography."
I'm aware. That's why I said, "And yes you didn't mention that, but it's important to note regardless since it's typically misconstrued from other countries."
"but representations of young girls in provocative outfits and poses""
The majority of us men are not attracted to this. I've never seen what you're talking about as a matter of fact. Especially in commercials, since we have strict laws about children in commercials. The occasional skimpy skirt might be shown to advertise school clothing (which btw, most schools don't let girls have skirts above the knees unless they are over 16, which was a borrowed practice from the Chinese to preserve purity among women and has nothing to do with pedophilia), but grown men certainly aren't sexually attracted to it unless they are among the minority and are pedophiles.
And I'm going to go off anyway, since I'm intrigued now.
I do suppose you have a point about you not necessarily being a danger to society. However, the same can be said for people that possess child pornography and kink-related content involving children. We simply don't know what they will do given enough time (we aren't mind-readers), but we can prevent them from stemming to real children. Yes, muscles on a child are rare, but that's like saying animated child pornography where the child has tentacles should get a free pass because they don't exist in real life. And muscles are much closer to existing than tentacles, but the point remains: we don't know how a pedophile will act, so we take precautions to protect our children and parents. So while not a direct danger, there is still a risk posed (which I mentioned) that constitutes arrest and prosecution. Such is the case in Japan, as well.
And, this is important nothing as well: Even if you pose no threat at all and it's somehow proven that you can't, you still are a pedophile, because you have sexual feelings directed towards a child. That's what I was saying the entire time.
"If I understood correctly, you want examples, I never wanted to divert your question intentionally, unlike you, only you asked me once and I missed it. And also I select a little what seems to me the relevant, because already our comments are very long, otherwise I write a novel.
However it's more a trick question than anything else, because you know very well that it's very difficult to give concrete examples for this kind of thing. And I also respect the anonymity of those with whom I dialogue."
I actually asked you twice. And yes, it is IMPOSSIBLE to give a grey area in pedophilia, because you can't be sexually attracted to child (someone under the age of majority in your respective country [or] under the age of puberty) as an adult without being a pedophile. I just caught you out here. You didn't expect me to ask for an example. It's not a trick question. It's me catching you out in the fallacy.
"On the other hand, you, it's just an impression too, but it seems to me that you have feelings that you refute, maybe unconsciously, and that's why you're so closed-minded on the subject and that you're so arrogant, it's certainly not insignificant that we're having this conversation here, in this topic. It seems strange to me that you can read a whole story of 78 chapters about a 13 year old girl with huge muscles and superhuman strength and huge breasts (well, breasts are not the characteristic of Kylie that I like the most), who makes all the women in the world cum, without getting any satisfaction from it. And the fact that you've been reading this story since the beginning doesn't change anything. As I told you, your explanation on this subject did not really convince me. You say you don't like Kylie and the other underage girls in this story, but Kylie is the main subject of this story, the other characters (apart from Rick, Kylie's brother who the reader identifies with) are very secondary. Eventually Allison (who is only 17 years old at the beginning of the story) and who has nice attou for fantasy but who is still very secondary to Kylie and a thousand light years away from Kylie's power (especially since Allison is totally crazy about Kylie since the beginning of the story), there is also Lauren who has nice little sexual attou without being muscular or strong but who arrives very late in the story, and once again the story is Kylie. Reading this story only for the major secondary characters seems very light to me, especially 78 chapters."
Yeah, I'm not refuting anything. I don't care if you're not convinced. It doesn't matter to me at all what you think because you actually are a pedophile.
"And yes I like strong muscular girls too, I never hid it here, I just didn't want to talk too much about myself until now. But I know what I really like and I know that it is a drift from my basic fantasy about female muscles. I know that without this female muscle fantasy, I wouldn't be interested in any underage girls. I know my feelings, and I think I'm a little better at talking about my own feelings than you are about mine. Call it pedophilia if you want, I don't think I'm sick or a danger to anyone. Besides, in real life I'm looking for a muscular woman, not an underage girl."
Yikes. That's sad, I have to say. I do hope you find some success in your life that doesn't rely on a sexual fantasy involving muscular women and/or muscular children. If you want my opinion: I think you're sick. I think you could be a danger to society given enough time (I could be wrong. Not a mind-reader. I base my thoughts off of what happens with a lot of pedophiles). And I couldn't find it, but at some point you mentioned that most pedophiles don't touch a child their whole lives. Care to expand on how you know this?
"In spite of all this trolling, I think there was some seriousness in your arguments, and to begin with, one of your biggest problems in this conversation (apart from the trolling) is that you fail to understand that with this kind of topic of conversation, there is very little to rely on facts, and that it is mainly approached with subjectivity, because it is related to feelings, and therefore not concrete. But it is quite possible to be objective in subjectivity, even if it seems very contradictory, because as I said before, objectivity is not only linked to known, proven and true facts, objectivity is also considering and analyzing all credible possibilities even without facts to justify them. So yes I never denied that my arguments were very theoretical, but they are theory based on many facts and coherent reasoning, in short they are objective theories. But with this kind of subject we can never be sure of anything, nor can we say that we are right, we can only discuss possibilities, and we can only doubt everything. That's why your limited mind needs true and known facts to understand things. So your limited mind is not made for this kind of subject. But you are free to open your mind a little more, consider all the theories that seem credible and coherent to you without necessarily relying only on known, proven and true facts, even if it cannot give you true certainty.
In short, this is the kind of subject where no one can be right or wrong, there is no point in trying to win, but we can all benefit from listening to each other. ^^"
No, no, no. When you try argue against known definitions, it becomes an objective discussion. You at multiple points deemed your points facts when they were just notional theories from personal experience, which I've proven is not a fact. Your reasoning is also very incoherent, and I have pointed out the many contradictions and fallacies in your arguments, but you always go back to the infamous burden of proof and splitting of hairs because it's easier than taking on an actual defense. Again, this confirms your loss on the topic of objectivity vs subjectivity; you just don't want to admit it because you're ashamed of wasting so much time only to be disproven by definitions.
It's funny that you call my mind limited, yet I can tell I'm far more intelligent than you are, and I say that as modestly as I can. You lack fundamental reasoning skills and objective analysis, something you're taught from a very young age; the world isn't all feelings and rainbows: if you're a pedophile by definition, you're a pedophile. Create as many delusions as you want, but you can't argue with facts unless you have a strong case to disprove the world. Which you don't. You're a pathetic grown man in his 40s with a sad undercurrent catering to muscular children and muscular women. If you cannot be truly happy without these features, you need help. I have dated a muscular woman, and it's no different than dating anyone else. They only have a hobby. Once you realise that, perhaps you'll stop pathetically grovelling over them and instead look to do something with your half-assed life.
Again, this is all in good fun. I stopped taking you seriously after you called personal observations objective facts. It's difficult to fix an idiot.
8)
-
Can this thread be locked if grbaclig has no further updates? The last several pages have just been a completely tangential world war three.
For the record, it's kind of amusing that ya'll have written the equivalent of a small novel going back and forth here, with neither party apparently interested in establishing any kind of factual reality. Despite what nebulasparks, our great master debater, claims to be """facts,""" not once has he bothered to provide even the barest foundation of research into what is at its heart a psychological and psychiatric issue. I will provide some sources for you to review if you would like. You may want to begin with the DSM (Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders), which is considered the de-facto standard for the classification of mental disorders and is the product of hundreds of psychiatric experts working together for many decades [1]. Specifically, it states that the diagnostic criteria for Pedophilic Disorder is the following:
A. Over a period of at least 6 months, recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors involving sexual activity with a prepubescent child or children (generally age 13 years or younger).
B. The individual has acted on these sexual urges, or the sexual urges or fantasies cause marked distress or interpersonal difficulty.
C. The individual is at least age 16 years and at least 5 years older than the child or children in Criterion A.
[American Psychiatric Association, p.697]
Please note the relevant details in criterion A and B regarding the intensity and specificity required to make such a diagnosis. To the point: transient interest or especially transient interest as a facet of another fetish by absolutely no means constitutes "Pedophilic disorder," despite your claims. To emphasize: "Ever having thoughts of sex with a prepubescent child or even ever having sexual contact with a prepubescent child would not be sufficient to meet the standard diagnostic criteria for pedophilia because persistence and intensity are two key features of these definitions" [Seto 2018].
Furthermore, the APA states that "Pedophilia per se appears to be a lifelong condition" [APA, p.699]. This leads well to another point I feel compelled to make, which is that even if some readers of this content do meet the aforementioned criteria (and I have no doubt that some do, for what it's worth) labeling them as "sick" or any other strictly non-clinical pejorative is unhelpful and arguably actively harmful. There is no statistical evidence that pedophilia or "pedophilic disorders" can be cured [Seto 2009]. According to Dr. Peter Fagan "current treatment goals focus on stopping the behavior and achieving long-term behavioral control in the community" [Fagan et al.]. Labeling people as perverts or sick or deranged etc serves only to coarsen your discourse, and decrease the odds that any actual sufferers of a mental disorder will seek the professional help they need.
Finally, and most interestingly, the existence and availability of "loli" has never been positively statistically correlated to an increase in sex crime towards children. Indeed, it is exactly the opposite: "...the high availability of hard-core pornography in Denmark was most probably the very direct cause of a considerable decrease in at least one type of serious sex offense, namely, child molestation" [Kutchinsky]. See also: "a massive increase in available pornography in Japan, the United States and elsewhere has been correlated with a dramatic decrease in sexual crimes and most so among youngsters as perpetrators or victims" [Diamond]. If you have any evidence to corroborate your earlier claims to the contrary then produce it.
On a personal note to nebulasparks, I'm sure you're aware but nonetheless I would like to point out that you come across as a supremely ignorant and arrogant ass. You say this doesn't detract from your points ("facts don't care..."), nonetheless the simple, practical reality is that it does. By deliberately punching down against a non-native speaker of English and self-aggrandizing around a (frankly pitiable) list of accomplishments you make it far less likely that anyone will hear what you say, if only because they find you so intolerable. Your latest diatribe is frankly disturbing. Truly intelligent people don't call themselves intelligent, nor do they stoop to such comparisons. As they say in the legal profession, "if you have the law, you pound the law. If you have the facts, you pound the facts. If you have neither, you pound the table." You've done nothing but write small novellas worth of pseudo-intellectual, knee-jerk responses based entirely on what I can only assume are your own personal biases. "In the real world," as you like to say so much we use evidence. Perhaps you should have studied something besides English Lit and History, or at least added a Psych 101 course to your curriculum.
To grbaclig, thanks again for the read. As an adult who can differentiate between casual fantasy/taboo and obsessive mental disorder I really couldn't care less who gets off to what in the privacy of their own home, insofar as the legality of the content goes.
References
1. American Psychiatric Association. (2013).
Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed.).
Washington, DC: Author.
2. Michael C. Seto (2009)
Pedophilia
Annual Review of Clinical Psychology 2009 5:1, 391-407
3. Fagan PJ, Wise TN, Schmidt, Jr CW, Berlin FS.
Pedophilia.
JAMA. 2002;288(19):2458–2465. doi:10.1001/jama.288.19.2458
4. Kutchinsky, B. (1973).
The Effect of Easy Availability of Pornography on the Incidence of Sex Crimes: The Danish Experience.
Journal of Social Issues, 29: 163-181. doi:10.1111/j.1540-4560.1973.tb00094.x
5. Michael C. Seto (2018)
Pedophilia and Sexual Offending Against Children: Theory, Assessment, and Intervention, Second Edition
American Psychiatric Association. isbn:978-1-4338-2926-0
6. Milton Diamond, Ph.D. (1999)
The Effects of Pornography: an international perspective
International Journal of Law and Psychiatry
-
Can this thread be locked if grbaclig has no further updates? The last several pages have just been a completely tangential world war three.
For the record, it's kind of amusing that ya'll have written the equivalent of a small novel going back and forth here, with neither party apparently interested in establishing any kind of factual reality. Despite what nebulasparks, our great master debater, claims to be """facts,""" not once has he bothered to provide even the barest foundation of research into what is at its heart a psychological and psychiatric issue. I will provide some sources for you to review if you would like. You may want to begin with the DSM (Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders), which is considered the de-facto standard for the classification of mental disorders and is the product of hundreds of psychiatric experts working together for many decades [1]. Specifically, it states that the diagnostic criteria for Pedophilic Disorder is the following:
A. Over a period of at least 6 months, recurrent, intense sexually arousing fantasies, sexual urges, or behaviors involving sexual activity with a prepubescent child or children (generally age 13 years or younger).
B. The individual has acted on these sexual urges, or the sexual urges or fantasies cause marked distress or interpersonal difficulty.
C. The individual is at least age 16 years and at least 5 years older than the child or children in Criterion A.
[American Psychiatric Association, p.697]
Please note the relevant details in criterion A and B regarding the intensity and specificity required to make such a diagnosis. To the point: transient interest or especially transient interest as a facet of another fetish by absolutely no means constitutes "Pedophilic disorder," despite your claims. To emphasize: "Ever having thoughts of sex with a prepubescent child or even ever having sexual contact with a prepubescent child would not be sufficient to meet the standard diagnostic criteria for pedophilia because persistence and intensity are two key features of these definitions" [Seto 2018].
Furthermore, the APA states that "Pedophilia per se appears to be a lifelong condition" [APA, p.699]. This leads well to another point I feel compelled to make, which is that even if some readers of this content do meet the aforementioned criteria (and I have no doubt that some do, for what it's worth) labeling them as "sick" or any other strictly non-clinical pejorative is unhelpful and arguably actively harmful. There is no statistical evidence that pedophilia or "pedophilic disorders" can be cured [Seto 2009]. According to Dr. Peter Fagan "current treatment goals focus on stopping the behavior and achieving long-term behavioral control in the community" [Fagan et al.]. Labeling people as perverts or sick or deranged etc serves only to coarsen your discourse, and decrease the odds that any actual sufferers of a mental disorder will seek the professional help they need.
Finally, and most interestingly, the existence and availability of "loli" has never been positively statistically correlated to an increase in sex crime towards children. Indeed, it is exactly the opposite: "...the high availability of hard-core pornography in Denmark was most probably the very direct cause of a considerable decrease in at least one type of serious sex offense, namely, child molestation" [Kutchinsky]. See also: "a massive increase in available pornography in Japan, the United States and elsewhere has been correlated with a dramatic decrease in sexual crimes and most so among youngsters as perpetrators or victims" [Diamond]. If you have any evidence to corroborate your earlier claims to the contrary then produce it.
On a personal note to nebulasparks, I'm sure you're aware but nonetheless I would like to point out that you come across as a supremely ignorant and arrogant ass. You say this doesn't detract from your points ("facts don't care..."), nonetheless the simple, practical reality is that it does. By deliberately punching down against a non-native speaker of English and self-aggrandizing around a (frankly pitiable) list of accomplishments you make it far less likely that anyone will hear what you say, if only because they find you so intolerable. Your latest diatribe is frankly disturbing. Truly intelligent people don't call themselves intelligent, nor do they stoop to such comparisons. As they say in the legal profession, "if you have the law, you pound the law. If you have the facts, you pound the facts. If you have neither, you pound the table." You've done nothing but write small novellas worth of pseudo-intellectual, knee-jerk responses based entirely on what I can only assume are your own personal biases. "In the real world," as you like to say so much we use evidence. Perhaps you should have studied something besides English Lit and History, or at least added a Psych 101 course to your curriculum.
To grbaclig, thanks again for the read. As an adult who can differentiate between casual fantasy/taboo and obsessive mental disorder I really couldn't care less who gets off to what in the privacy of their own home, insofar as the legality of the content goes.
References
1. American Psychiatric Association. (2013).
Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed.).
Washington, DC: Author.
2. Michael C. Seto (2009)
Pedophilia
Annual Review of Clinical Psychology 2009 5:1, 391-407
3. Fagan PJ, Wise TN, Schmidt, Jr CW, Berlin FS.
Pedophilia.
JAMA. 2002;288(19):2458–2465. doi:10.1001/jama.288.19.2458
4. Kutchinsky, B. (1973).
The Effect of Easy Availability of Pornography on the Incidence of Sex Crimes: The Danish Experience.
Journal of Social Issues, 29: 163-181. doi:10.1111/j.1540-4560.1973.tb00094.x
5. Michael C. Seto (2018)
Pedophilia and Sexual Offending Against Children: Theory, Assessment, and Intervention, Second Edition
American Psychiatric Association. isbn:978-1-4338-2926-0
6. Milton Diamond, Ph.D. (1999)
The Effects of Pornography: an international perspective
International Journal of Law and Psychiatry
This is the sort of stuff I was looking for. Thanks in advance.
I agree with all of the sources you have listed.
"Ever having thoughts of sex with a prepubescent child or even ever having sexual contact with a prepubescent child would not be sufficient to meet the standard diagnostic criteria for pedophilia because persistence and intensity are two key features of these definitions"
I agree with this 100%. I have mentioned multiple times that what we were discussing were people overtly sexualising children and people that were necessarily attracted to these children regarding the muscle fetish. So persistence is most certainly one factor that must be taken into account. Merely having an intrusive thought is not enough to dictate a mental illness, but what we're discussing here are people that upload kink content specifically involving children (under 13 a lot of the time). These same people find the prospect of children with muscles more sexually appealing than grown women (this was not my argument by my opponent's). (I.E. The younger the age, the more sexually impressive the content).
So, this quote is indeed correct and backs up what I was saying since the very start. The persistence and intensity of being sexually attracted to underage women grants a pedophilic status. The definition of pedophilia does not change here and what my opponent argues is that, "the younger the age, the more turned on the person becomes", which grants 1. intensity, and 2. persistence. But what we define as "intense" can change the meaning of the claim. I will look into this more to see what classifies intensity, so thank you for the referral(s).
"Finally, and most interestingly, the existence and availability of "loli" has never been positively statistically correlated to an increase in sex crime towards children. Indeed, it is exactly the opposite: "...the high availability of hard-core pornography in Denmark was most probably the very direct cause of a considerable decrease in at least one type of serious sex offense, namely, child molestation" [Kutchinsky]. See also: "a massive increase in available pornography in Japan, the United States and elsewhere has been correlated with a dramatic decrease in sexual crimes and most so among youngsters as perpetrators or victims" [Diamond]. If you have any evidence to corroborate your earlier claims to the contrary then produce it."
I never claimed that the existence of "loli" correlated to an increase in sex crime towards children. In fact, I argued for, half, of what you produced: "a massive increase in available pornography in Japan, the United States and elsewhere has been correlated with a dramatic decrease in sexual crimes and most so among youngsters as perpetrators or victims"
My opponent argued that Japan sexualises children and constituted a "grey area" in pedophilia through these terms.
The minority of men in Japan are sexually attracted to underage women in skimpy skirts. I don't believe I've mentioned otherwise. I didn't mention anything about porn increasing sexual behavior towards children. I did, however, explain that we don't know how people in possession of child pornography will act.
So I agree here again.
"On a personal note to nebulasparks, I'm sure you're aware but nonetheless I would like to point out that you come across as a supremely ignorant and arrogant ass. You say this doesn't detract from your points ("facts don't care..."), nonetheless the simple, practical reality is that it does. By deliberately punching down against a non-native speaker of English and self-aggrandizing around a (frankly pitiable) list of accomplishments you make it far less likely that anyone will hear what you say, if only because they find you so intolerable. Your latest diatribe is frankly disturbing. Truly intelligent people don't call themselves intelligent, nor do they stoop to such comparisons. As they say in the legal profession, "if you have the law, you pound the law. If you have the facts, you pound the facts. If you have neither, you pound the table." You've done nothing but write small novellas worth of pseudo-intellectual, knee-jerk responses based entirely on what I can only assume are your own personal biases. "In the real world," as you like to say so much we use evidence. Perhaps you should have studied something besides English Lit and History, or at least added a Psych 101 course to your curriculum."
Oh, I'm aware. But a lot of it was in good fun because I was getting tired of the discussion. It was very roundabout.
What doesn't detract from my points? The sources you mentioned? I don't think they detract from my points at all. The only area I'm questioning is "intensity", which I will look into and if has a standard that deviates from what I said, I will come back and say I was wrong.
I wasn't punching down against a non-native speaker. I pointed out that some areas were difficult to discern because the grammar changed what the author had originally meant to say, which led to me misinterpreting what they meant.
Yeah, the diatribe was me not taking him seriously anymore. It's a bunch of ad hominins to counter the psychological analysis the author had initiated on me. No point was being made there.
So I thank you for the sources and substance. I apologise you had to stumble across this discussion that, I admit, was a pain to read when neither party was willing to throw sources at one another. But I don't think your sources disagree with the premise of the discussion and which I have been defending. Again, I'll have to look into the smaller parts to discern elements.
Thanks again.
-
A huge thank you to you, Agamemnon128, for concluding this debate so masterfully, I had no idea how to get out of it, but I couldn't leave it with such an erroneous, accusing and inferred judgment from such a limited mind. It's true that when you have the right references it's immediately better. It's true that I didn't argue in the most intelligent way, I only used my logical deduction from my meager knowledge on the subject of pedophilia from various articles I've read and TV reports I've seen, and from what I've learned from our community of female muscle admirers, as well as from my own feelings, a few small, non-expert facts.
Anyway, I'm reassured, I'm not that stupid, and even less sick.
As for Nebulasparks, you're really amazing as a guy, even when the evidence is shoved under your nose, you still find a way to try to divert it to your advantage as if it confirms your statements, whereas it confirms exactly the opposite of what you've been claiming since the beginning and will rather tend to go in my direction as if it's not necessarily paedophilia, a mental illness, or a danger for society. Your arrogance is just incredible. I wonder if you really realize that. You make me feel like I'm walking on another dimension.
And no personally I never talked about downloading perverted content applying to children, just fantasies. I even said that I thought Kylie's story went too far sometimes.
And finally, I wanted to tell you about your previous comment, because it's something that touches me personally: female muscles are for me much more than a simple fantasy and it's not only sexual for me (even if there's a sexual part, it's not only that), it's much deeper than that, as I said I've had it since I was a child, it's a need that I developed since I was a child before I was even old enough to think about sex. In love we all have needs that are not necessarily only sexual. And no I know I would never find success in love that wasn't based on my need for female muscles. Speaking of which, Tigersan had written something that I think is really relevant on this subject, on DA: https://www.*****tigersan/journal/To-all-who-love-women-with-muscles-511999419
And please avoid your allusion about muscular children, I do not and would NEVER seek love with underage girls! As I said I am only looking for love with a muscular woman.
-
And finally, I wanted to tell you about your previous comment, because it's something that touches me personally: female muscles are for me much more than a simple fantasy and it's not only sexual for me (even if there's a sexual part, it's not only that), it's much deeper than that, as I said I've had it since I was a child, it's a need that I developed since I was a child before I was even old enough to think about sex. In love we all have needs that are not necessarily only sexual. And no I know I would never find success in love that wasn't based on my need for female muscles. Speaking of which, Tigersan had written something that I think is really relevant on this subject, on DA: https://www.*****tigersan/journal/To-all-who-love-women-with-muscles-511999419
The link doesn't seem to work, so I put Tigersan's text here :
I won't call it fetish, because its simply shallow and doesn't mean a thing other than overly simplify this highly complex
attraction...
I realize that everyone is different, and this particular fascination might have evolved out of more or less deep subconscious
areas of your mind. But I will assume in most of you its pretty deep. In my case it has to do with so called
"mother issue" and older girl, my cousin (that i had a crush on) bullying me when i was a kid.
What I wanted to say... is: Don't be afraid of who you are... Always tell the truth about your likes (when somebody
asks of course, don't go walking around with a sign that you like muscular women LOL) People around you wlll then see
you as a stronger person, because you are not afraid of rejection amongst your friends or a family. They may joke
around a bit, but then they'll realize it won't change anything and they'll stop. Both with family and friends it's the same
in my experience... So don't be afraid of who you are, be proud of it. Most men don't accept muscular women because
they are insecure about themselves, they cant accept the fact that a woman can be stronger than them both
physically and mentally. Because most men wouldn't last working out and dieting... they are too lazy. They simply aren't
true men...
Another thing i'd like to share, is try to go deeper into your appreciation of powerful, muscular women. Don't treat it
as a simple turn-on or a fetish. It's A LOT more! Muscles are just an externalization of this deeply seeded attraction.
Most of the time (And I'm not saying those are the only options, only those that I find the most common and important)
it will be connected to wanting to be taken care of by a strong, protective, muscular woman (mother issue) or being with a
woman that you can treat as your mighty heroine (hero worship), or being looked down upon or even bullied or beaten up
by a girl. Those seem like simple things, but they are not... They are seeded deeply in your subconscious mind, and can affect
every single thing you do in your adult life. Therefore being aware of those things can help you notice when it happens,
and understand how it affects your life (if it does at all) in any way.
To me it was a great journey, that started as a simple turn-on/fetish when i was about 12 and ended as a lifestyle in my 30's.
I will never date a woman that isn't muscular. Granted, that might sound shallow, but this is one of the reasons I'm writing
this entry. It's not. Don't let anyone judge you based on your likes and attractions. This is something that is a part of you,
and if someone can't accept that part of you, maybe they don't accept you...
Thanks to the fact that I was ALWAYS (well not always but since i came to USA) open about what I like I have met few
interesting people, and my current lovely goddess of a girlfriend. She knew what she was getting in to with me and she
loved it! Being honest with women will allow you not to waste time on relationships that aren't making you 100% happy,
because they will end promptly, and it will also save some heart-ache to the girl if you wont let her deeply fall in love with
you. So you have a chance to meet the woman of your dreams, that you can be truly happy with in ALL POSSIBLE WAYS...
NEVER settle for half-truths, and half-happiness, always strive for TRUE 100% happiness, because that is THE ONLY way
for you to have it... NEVER GIVE UP...
Another reason I'm writing this is, I have found a post of a wife trying to find help on some relationship forums
about her husband that has a muscle fetish. She felt bad about it and was trying to get some advice on how she
can "help him". So I wrote a reply to her: There's a saying "Never try to change others around you - That's impossible.
Only thing you can change is you" so if she REALLY loves him she can try and join his fantasy by signing up for the gym
and living the fantasy with him. Then he wouldn't have a need to sit in front of computer as much as he did, looking for
pictures and video clips of muscular women (she complained about it). Another option she has is leaving the relationship
because based on my experience with women i was with, i was NEVER truly happy until my current girlfriend. If her man
loves her and she claimed he did, he would never tell her that hes unhappy, because he would be afraid of loosing her.
So If she loves him and is unable to join in his fantasy, she should leave him... And people's comments on that thread
were completely clueless, people completely don't understand this attraction and that it's not a simple fetish...
They were treating him as a sick person like an addict, or a pervert, or sex addict... This infuriated me, and pushed me
to write this entry in my Journal.
VERY IMPORTANT ADDITION THOUGH... PLEASE! I feel I should add this on the beginning of this post. I never meant
this journal entry to be the cause of long time relationships falling apart. If you are already in a relationship with a woman.
BEFORE you tell her about your love for muscle, VERY carefully weigh everything, because this may destroy the harmony
and trust, she had in you. Weigh if its worth loosing long term love... I directed this journal entry to single guys who are
still looking for their dream women. LOVE is what is THE MOST important thing not muscle... If you already have LOVE
don't start searching for muscle now, it seems it's kinda too late for that. When I said don't waste time with
relationship you are not 100% happy with I meant fresh relationships, with women you meet as you look for your
dream-woman, relationships that don't have deep love formed yet and that wouldn't hurt the other side...
I'm sorry I didn't notice and specify that before, I would like to inspire people, but not be the inspiration to make their
relationships fall apart... I'm truly sorry for that!!!
Cheers!
My few thoughts i had recently
Best regards Les
I really like what he wrote, I find it really relevant and shows how difficult it is when you have this fantasy deep inside you, to make your life with an ordinary non-muscular woman.
-
A huge thank you to you, Agamemnon128, for concluding this debate so masterfully, I had no idea how to get out of it, but I couldn't leave it with such an erroneous, accusing and inferred judgment from such a limited mind. It's true that when you have the right references it's immediately better. It's true that I didn't argue in the most intelligent way, I only used my logical deduction from my meager knowledge on the subject of pedophilia from various articles I've read and TV reports I've seen, and from what I've learned from our community of female muscle admirers, as well as from my own feelings, a few small, non-expert facts.
Anyway, I'm reassured, I'm not that stupid, and even less sick.
As for Nebulasparks, you're really amazing as a guy, even when the evidence is shoved under your nose, you still find a way to try to divert it to your advantage as if it confirms your statements, whereas it confirms exactly the opposite of what you've been claiming since the beginning and will rather tend to go in my direction as if it's not necessarily paedophilia, a mental illness, or a danger for society. Your arrogance is just incredible. I wonder if you really realize that. You make me feel like I'm walking on another dimension.
And no personally I never talked about downloading perverted content applying to children, just fantasies. I even said that I thought Kylie's story went too far sometimes.
And finally, I wanted to tell you about your previous comment, because it's something that touches me personally: female muscles are for me much more than a simple fantasy and it's not only sexual for me (even if there's a sexual part, it's not only that), it's much deeper than that, as I said I've had it since I was a child, it's a need that I developed since I was a child before I was even old enough to think about sex. In love we all have needs that are not necessarily only sexual. And no I know I would never find success in love that wasn't based on my need for female muscles. Speaking of which, Tigersan had written something that I think is really relevant on this subject, on DA: https://www.*****tigersan/journal/To-all-who-love-women-with-muscles-511999419
And please avoid your allusion about muscular children, I do not and would NEVER seek love with underage girls! As I said I am only looking for love with a muscular woman.
I've looked into it more thoroughly and would like to forward an apology in regards to the discussion.
It is true that there was more to the pot than a lot of what's out there. Pedophilia has more complexity than I had originally thought prior to this discussion.
It seems that persistence and intensity (which is anything that interrupts daily life) are two key factors in determining pedophilia. Another thanks for the sources given.
This discussion really went haywire because of nuances, and while nuances have a role to play, they were not necessary here. The broad picture would have sufficed and I'm grateful it finally arrived.
However, I need to mention that this was what I was looking for in response since the start. Most of what made you unreliable was the way in which you conducted your argument (the blind statements, the incorrect assessments, and the blatantly wrong opinions about my country). All of this gave me the impression that you were just defending something for the sake of defending it, and you found yourself in an area where you couldn't stop because you dislike the label I incorrectly placed on you (pedophile). And I apologize for that as well.
Needless to say, I also apologize for the insults towards your character particularly near the end. I'm not sure how your life has been and I'm certain you're not that bad.
Most of the argument (maybe 70%) was just us going back and forth about small details such as objectivity when it didn't matter anyway. While I still don't agree with you in those areas, I can understand how the discussion went the way it did, and most of it was because I didn't look deep enough into more secondary sources (such as what was delivered here today).
If you had opened with those, the discussion could have closed long ago. I agree now that it is not necessarily pedophilia unless it of course meets the criteria. "Intensity"confused me for the most part which is why I had to look into it.
So I apologize again.
As a side note (not directed toward Muscle Douceur): What part made you believe that I said "Loli" led to increased sexual activity against children? I don't believe that at all and know it's not true. I hate that Loli has become almost attached to Japanese culture from an outsider's POV, especially when most of us detest it. Still, would you care to add to why you thought I was inferring this?
Thanks.
-
nebula, I do thank you for your measured response. It's all anyone can ask of anyone to evaluate information presented and adjust their mindset accordingly. I admit my own tone at a few times was condescension as a response to condescension, and unproductive. I'm glad you were able to glean some things from the provided literature. Genuinely I just wanted to ensure anyone else reading this didn't believe themselves to be sick or deranged just because a bit of (admittedly very) taboo erotica gave them a reaction. Unless you meet the criteria from the DSM 5 listed above you are not [necessarily] mentally sick. My own tastes are usually very much different from this, however for me strength/muscle has always been a somewhat "taboo" desire - even after realizing it's nothing to be ashamed of - and the exceedingly taboo nature of this piece just happened to synergize with that.
As to your question of my word choice, I (maybe incorrectly) used the word "loli" as a general euphemism for fictional/artistic depictions of that nature.
-
I've looked into it more thoroughly and would like to forward an apology in regards to the discussion.
It is true that there was more to the pot than a lot of what's out there. Pedophilia has more complexity than I had originally thought prior to this discussion.
It seems that persistence and intensity (which is anything that interrupts daily life) are two key factors in determining pedophilia. Another thanks for the sources given.
This discussion really went haywire because of nuances, and while nuances have a role to play, they were not necessary here. The broad picture would have sufficed and I'm grateful it finally arrived.
However, I need to mention that this was what I was looking for in response since the start. Most of what made you unreliable was the way in which you conducted your argument (the blind statements, the incorrect assessments, and the blatantly wrong opinions about my country). All of this gave me the impression that you were just defending something for the sake of defending it, and you found yourself in an area where you couldn't stop because you dislike the label I incorrectly placed on you (pedophile). And I apologize for that as well.
Needless to say, I also apologize for the insults towards your character particularly near the end. I'm not sure how your life has been and I'm certain you're not that bad.
Most of the argument (maybe 70%) was just us going back and forth about small details such as objectivity when it didn't matter anyway. While I still don't agree with you in those areas, I can understand how the discussion went the way it did, and most of it was because I didn't look deep enough into more secondary sources (such as what was delivered here today).
If you had opened with those, the discussion could have closed long ago. I agree now that it is not necessarily pedophilia unless it of course meets the criteria. "Intensity"confused me for the most part which is why I had to look into it.
So I apologize again.
As a side note (not directed toward Muscle Douceur): What part made you believe that I said "Loli" led to increased sexual activity against children? I don't believe that at all and know it's not true. I hate that Loli has become almost attached to Japanese culture from an outsider's POV, especially when most of us detest it. Still, would you care to add to why you thought I was inferring this?
Thanks.
I'm glad it's ending like this, after my last comment I was afraid you'd still find a way to get around this, but I finally see that you're more reasonable than it seemed so far and that you know how to question yourself when you need to, that's a very good point for you. And thank you for taking the trouble to objectively study the sources of Agamemnon128.
As I said it's true that I didn't debate in the most intelligent way, I didn't have the right sources and I didn't know where to look, it's not easy to find, I had read a little bit the wiki to see if I could find some information to disclose, but I didn't find anything interesting or very concrete, except that one is considered a pedophile after a period of at least 6 months, recurrent and intense fantasies of sexual arousal, sexual urges or behaviors involving sexual activity with one or more prepubescent children, I wasn't sure if this was enough for our debate.
In short, I was only explaining my logical deduction, but which is not based on anything either. The facts I was demonstrating had no real expert sources, and were only there to explain my reasoning, not to prove that what I was saying was necessarily true. You needed concrete and indisputable evidence that I could not provide. You needed to be 100% convinced without leaving any room for doubt. I wanted you to understand my reasoning, more than to convince you that it was right, I wanted you to think about this reasoning, and what I reproach you with is that you never tried to understand it, you didn't even try to give me the benefit of the doubt, you were convinced that you were right and that was all that mattered to you, as long as you weren't provided with indisputable proof, which I was unable to do.
In short, I wanted you to understand that it is not because we cannot prove something that it is necessarily false and that we cannot have a logical and reliable reasoning. Because as I said before, if not convincing, it should at least make you think.
I must admit that I suffered a bit from this conversation because it is a subject that affects me personally (moreover I am a bit depressed because it is very difficult in our society to find the woman who can fill my sentimental need for feminine muscles, and now that I am 40 years old, I have the impression that it is a wasted effort, I am also in a bit of a mid-life crisis). And like Agamemnon128, I wanted people who read us to not feel sick for having a little fantasy about strong muscular girls. But I didn't have the right tools or arguments, thanks to Agamemnon128, for being able to provide all that. I am now relieved.
On that note I accept your apology but I hope that next time you will be a little more complacent in this kind of debate even if we can't provide you with the indisputable evidence :-)
As for me next time I will try more to find real sources, even if it must take a long time. ^^
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not to side with any one of you, but as a writer in this space for several years now there is a reason a lot of stories like these have evaporated, both in terms of older things disappearing from the web and newer things being written rarely if not at all. same for any commissioned artist--there is usually a list of yes/no things that they will or won't agree to do, no matter the price.
those of us that monetize our writing don't do it as a rule. we pay taxes on our work. i have more than once been briefly suspended for content on patreon (but like most internet suspensions there wasn't a clear arrow pointing to one post or another, or multiple) and had to clear everything in order to get back up and running.
it's a risk to post stuff like this these days so I don't write them, myself.