Author: [Mr. Shhh] The Hunger (Parts 1-8 and Prelude parts 1-2)

[RobDubya]

One of his earlier stories that is no longer easily accessible anywhere else. The second part of the Prelude was written by an anonymous reader of his blog, Muscle Machine.

THE HUNGER

Prelude

By: Mr. Shhh


The throaty roar of Mercy’s Harley echoed across the desert as she pulled into the highway gas station. Stopping in front of the pumps, she pushed out the kickstand and climbed off, the heavy chrome and steel beast compressing painfully beneath her half-ton of dense weight.
The scorching sun was unbearable. A layer of sweat was clinging to every inch of the erotic young bodybuilder, giving her intensely-tanned skin and hard, unyielding curves a slick shine.
Popping off the gas cap, Mercy began to fill her thirsty vehicle. She glanced around while the bike drank up. A cartoonish neon muscle-man buzzed on the sign above the station. Mercy looked at his arm – an exaggerated, Popeye-like bicep ballooned from the figure’s frame. Grinning, she squeezed her own fist and felt her leather coat groan to contain a beastly bicep easily double the size.
The trigger snapped open on the pump. The raven-haired hard body looked at the total – 55 dollars. Digging into her pocket, she found about 20 bucks. Shit.
Just then, a huge semi pulled into the dirt lot behind her. A burly trucker climbed out and peered back into the cab.
“Stay put, Honey.” He ordered. “I just gotta drain the snake.”
Mercy watched him slam the door and march towards the building.

The trucker entered a dingy bathroom and planted himself in front of the urinal. He ignored his surroundings - buzzing light bulb, crusty, graffiti-strewn walls and filthy floor.
Behind him, the door opened. The trucker hardly noticed the new presence as he finished his business.
Turning around, he was surprised to discover Mercy standing before him. He was momentarily taken aback not only by a girl in the men’s room but by her scorching, super model looks.
“I think you got the wrong door, sexy.” The trucker smirked, his raspy voice complimenting his gruff, bearded exterior. If Mercy had to guess, she would’ve put him at 6’5, 250 pounds. That made him a full foot taller than the comparatively small girl, but definitely not heavier.
“Fifty bucks and I’ll hit any pose you want.” Mercy offered mater-of-factly. The Trucker seemed to wait for a punch line, but Mercy was dead serious.
“Hell, you sure ain’t shy.” He laughed.
“I need the money. You interested or not?”
“Why should I give a crap about poses, unless we’re talking doggy style and missionary?” He shot back.
Mercy unzipped her biker jacket. She grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up, revealing the thickest, most staggeringly cut abs he’d ever seen.
“Jesus…!” The trucker muttered, his eyes widening to accept the magnificently sculpted, king-sized 12 pack.
“Fifty bucks. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed.”
The trucker fumbled for his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills. Mercy snatched them from his hand.
“Lose the leather, tough guy.” He started, rubbing his beard nervously.
Mercy peeled off her coat and dropped it on the floor.
The trucker’s eyes sprung open further. If he’d been floored by Mercy’s abs, then her shoulders, arms and neck blew him through the wall.
“Fuck… me!” He spurted through his disbelief. “What kind of juice are you shooting?!”
Mercy shifted her stance to give him a better view of her perfect lines.
“What makes you think I’m juicing?” She toyed, knowing full well what he meant. Even in muscle-obsessed America, nobody looked like her.
The biker gawked at the t-shirt struggling to contain her awesome physique. The material was stretched so tight that he could see a million individual details right through it – tendons, striations, vascular systems - all ready to obliterate the shirt with the slightest flex. Her outline was so totally unfeminine that he found himself questioning how she could possibly be a woman, let alone the jail-bait piece of ass she appeared to be. Her shoulders and back, both denser and wider than a fully-padded football player’s, tapered sharply to a waist that was less than a third the size. The colossal super-V it created was only further amplified by her staggering contest condition.
“Where the hell are your tits?” The trucker questioned, his voice rushed and excited.
“Tits are for girls.” The bulging teen answered. Her girly voice, high-pitched and young, betrayed the brutal masculinity of the rest of her.
“What the hell do you think you are then?”
Mercy took her shirt and pulled it over her head. In one fast motion, her studly, muscle-packed torso was naked from the waist up.
“I’m a bodybuilder.” She answered confidently.
The red-hot hard body stood topless before the trucker without a hint of shyness. She seemed used to flaunting her tit-less pecs as if she’d resigned herself to being an unfeeling piece of meat. The swollen girth of each gargantuan chest-block was simply unbelievable. There was no way she could possible fit into a bra or bikini top. Gone was the slightest hint that her breasts had even existed. All soft tissue had been crushed flat and rebuilt into the veiny, television-sized mountain range that stood in their place.
It wouldn’t have been a stretch to imagine Mercy stabbing syringe-loads of growth hormone directly into her chest while blasting those monsters with punishing weight-sets. Even then, with limitless chemicals and bottomless hunger, the demented magnitude of her muscle-tits was still unfathomable. She was nature perverted by sheer, indomitable willpower.
Mercy hooked her thumbs to the waist of her jeans and tightened her shoulders. Each pec crumpled like 100 pounds of aluminum, turning instantly into 2 shredded bricks of bullet proof he-beef. Angry veins snarled across every jagged muscle-strand and joined an out-of-control army that dominated her planetoid delts.
Mercy gazed into the trucker’s eyes with a voracious sexual hunger. The sleazy bathroom peep-show was clearly turning her on.
“Go ahead, tell me what you want. I can be anything - shy school girl with muscles – studly she-man with a pussy.”
The trucker didn’t respond. He was still having trouble accepting the sweaty, testosterone-fueled beefcake.
“Maybe my daddy always wanted a boy. Imagine him forcing me to work out day after day, hour after hour – screaming and crying until my body was harder than any man’s.”
Mercy twisted her stomach. Her baseball-sized abs fought for the limited space on her body. Stark feathering flared and pressed against itself. Veins coiled and pulsed. It seemed like she was packed with more muscles than could even fit.
“Maybe I got bigger than he ever thought possible. Maybe I got so hot that he couldn’t keep his hands off me.”
The raven-haired jock lifted her arms and hit a double bicep flex. She grunted softly as the real breadth of her outrageous physique suddenly unfolded. She wasn’t simply the Olympia-crushing brute she appeared to be – she was much, much bigger than that.
Flexing her basketball biceps, the gender-bending beast almost buried her own face beneath an onslaught of screaming, skin-shredding mega-girth. A quiet moan escaped her lips as she flexed again forcing more detail and definition into her increasingly skinless musculature. She closed her eyes and savored the sensation, almost as if she was reliving the wonderful agony of building every overblown inch.
“You’re getting hot, aren’t you?” The trucker finally blurted, unable to stay silent in the face of Mercy’s twisted lust. “You love what a crazy fucking slut you are! Flex harder!”
Mercy’s eyes opened. She was momentarily taken aback, yet there was no denying it - her engine had started and there was no turning back. A part of her was horrified at what was happening – stripping for cash like a junkie whore in a shit-hole bathroom. But she couldn’t stop herself. Worse still – she needed it.
“Show me everything you’ve got, bitch!” He ordered. Mercy felt her heart racing. He’d show him alright .
The massive teen brought her arms down and turned to her side. Locking her right arm in an “L”, she clutched her wrist and cut loose at full strength. The resulting flex transformed her body like nothing the trucker had ever seen. Hideous, eye-popping detail erupted through her shoulders nearly ripping her skin off. Her chest swelled so hard that it filled every inch of space between her 2 arms.
Veins clawed up her neck as she flexed again and again. The tucker could hear her flesh struggling to contain her. Surging veins popped through her temples and forehead as she poured it on.
“Show me your legs!” The trucker ordered.
Mercy turned again and put her hands behind her head. Placing one leg in front of her, she tensed her thigh until stitches started rip. Bit by bit, her brown, sweat-slicked skin forced itself through the seams of her jeans.
Finally, one hard flex tore the pants in half. Concrete muscles exploded through in a flood of veiny, beefy might. Mercy gasped orgasmically before switching legs and flexing the other one. Her other pant leg shredded in seconds as if it were made out of paper.
The trucker dug into his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. He held it in front of Mercy like a carrot on a stick.
“There’s near 300 dollars here.”
Mercy looked at him, momentarily pulled from her sexual rush.
He tossed the money on the ground. Looking back at her, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his throbbing erection.
Mercy stared. She barely moved, save the rise and fall of her heaving chest.
“Go on. Take the money.” He hissed.
Mercy suddenly snapped back to another time and place. It was her own hazy memory involuntarily barging into the present. She was years younger, though still impressively muscled. She found herself strapped to a piece of crude gym equipment and forced to lift a huge weight stack with her legs.
Behind her, a crowd of men smoked and drank. Mercy cried with each rep to their rapturous delight. Her legs burned like someone had poured gasoline on them. Sweat drenched her body as she powered through set after set.
“Lift that weight, whore!” One of the men demanded. A whip hit her back leaving a red slash across the meaty muscles.
Mercy screamed and fought harder. Her powerful legs surged with awe-inspiring muscularity impossible for a girl her size. Harder she worked. The weight hit the top of the machine with each rep, clanging like a bell. Spit flew from her straining, purple face. Her legs were searing open wounds and every rep was a handful of salt.
“Look at you. You’re dripping wet.” Came the trucker’s voice.
Mercy returned to the moment. She was back in the dingy gas station. She could feel her own wetness seeping through the crotch of her tattered jeans. It wouldn’t be long before a river of steamy girl juice would be running down her legs.
“You know you want the money.” He continued, his boner raging at the sight of the confused Hercules.
More memories came flooding into Mercy’s mind. She was in a dim bedroom riding some strange man like a bucking stud. His hands were all over her chest, squeezing and pinching the small breasts that clung to the bottom of her masculine pecs. The harder she flexed, the harder he fucked her, until she finally orgasmed in a flurry of sinew and veins.
And then she was back again. This time, there was no confusion at all. Dropping to her knees, Mercy grabbed the trucker’s legs and rammed his dick down her throat so hard that he thought she was going to hurt herself. The delirious muscle-titan began sucking and smacking like a depraved animal. The trucker moaned as he sank into a world of intense pleasure. The thought of a muscle-bound bodybuilder surrendering to his every whim was the fantasy to end all fantasies, yet the reality was a thousand times better. Here was a creature of unrelenting will – powerful enough to lift a car or tear him in half with her bare hands, now his depraved sex slave.
Looking down at her, he saw a girl drowning in lust. Her hands, face and neck were covered in spit as she drooled over and licked every inch of his prick. Her free hand was at her crotch furiously rubbing the saturated material, shameless searching for gratification.
It was mere minutes after she had started that the trucker felt himself approaching his apex. The noise, the moaning - the grotesque, surging muscularity filling his entire field of view – it was just too much. And her face – that perfect, virginal angel looking up at him, perverted by the angry vascularity snaking beneath her dried-out skin - she could make a grown man cry.
He could feel Mercy’s iron-grip holding him in place as she demanded the cum from his balls. Her neck muscles crushed his dick like a circle of hydraulic pistons. He finally gave it to her in an explosive burst straight down her throat. One load, two. He sprayed so much cum into her that he expected it to start coming out her ears. When Mercy finally pulled his dick out of her mouth, more jizz spackled her face.
“G-god damn…!!” The man gasped through labored panting. He was absolutely amazed at the load she’d coaxed from him. By the time it ended, her chiseled features were buried beneath an oozing white blanket.
But Mercy was far from finished. Standing up, she grabbed him by the shirt and threw him into one of the stalls. The shocked trucker watched as Mercy’s terrifying shape approached, barely able to fit through the doorway.
Taking the crotch of her jeans, she pulled them down and tossed them aside. The trucker was left face to face with a sexy white thong just big enough to cover her labia. But there was something seriously wrong. The distorted underwear was pulled dental floss-thin across a block of aggressively protruding muscles that formed the most grotesquely developed vagina in the world.
Jesus – was there no end to her insane muscularity? Even her vagina, the last trace of gender identification anywhere on her body was pumped-up beyond comprehension. Internal muscles were fist-sized boulders packed layers deep. Veins were everywhere snarling out of control, swollen to an obscene, cigar thickness to feed the demands of her mutant snatch.
“What have you done?!” The trucker gasped, more appalled than aroused.
Mercy followed his eyes. She splayed her legs wider to show him everything she had. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her abs, legs and everything in between. She grunted softly as her vagina and all related muscles flexed with steel-crushing force.
The effect was like an injection of muscle juice right into her cunt. Everything exploded with unprecedented detail. The ludicrous vascularity tripled along her legs and plugged straight into her pussy. The doomed strip of underwear finally snapped under the pressure like a string holding back a steam roller.
More flexes followed, each one harder and stronger until it was impossible to identify anything between her legs but a single nightmarish quadrant of ripped muscularity.
Mercy positioned herself over the trucker, who had ended up on the toilet seat. Her humongous bulk utterly eclipsed him to the point where she had to hold onto the stall or risk crushing him completely. He didn’t even realize he had a boner until she began to push herself down on him. In one powerful motion, she swallowed the trucker's pole with her frightening monster-vagina.
The sensation was like having his dick was in a vice with someone twisting the handle. He would’ve screamed in pain except the extreme pleasure was even more overwhelming.
Mercy cranked her arms back and began slowly crunching her fists together. Her upper body, already muscular to the point lunacy, ignited with preposterous new amounts of grade-A she-beef. As the trucker surrendered to Mercy’s total supremacy, he witnessed a shocking transformation. Beautiful Mercy, the erotic sex dream rapidly ceased to exist. Her soft face, so effortlessly alluring, became gnarled with strain. Wrinkles and stretches joined popping veins until she was more monster than girl.
Spit spattered the trucker's face as Mercy screamed and cried, mindless amidst her agonizing desire for the ultimate pump. Her fucking became secondary to the desperate, all-consuming expansion she was forcing upon herself.
The walls of the toilet stall creaked as Mercy rode her overwhelmed toy. Bolts snapped at the floor. Tiles cracked.
Mercy’s face twisted until she was red and dripping all over. Her shaking pecs inflated by muscle-stuffed inches with every contraction of her arms, each time growing veinier and freakier than humanly possible. Shoulder and traps bled into one another until they were ridiculous balloons ready to burst.
Water started to leak from the base of the toilet. The trucker felt like the Earth was going to split open. His vision became hazy as all of the blood from his body was sucked through his dick by Mercy’s garbage-crusher snatch. Looking down, his found his entire lower body utterly consumed by Mercy's inhuman legs and crotch.
Finally, the super-human muscle engine reached her nuclear climax. With an uncontrollable shudder, she tore the toilet right out of the floor. Water sprayed everywhere like a Las Vegas fountain, soaking both of them.
Mercy howled into the sky and flexed with all of her being. If she had been on a competition stage at that very moment, she would've eclipsed an entire line-up put together. Each and every muscle on her body was pushed to its zenith and beyond, every ounce of fat stripped bare in the most garish way possible. Even her flesh was just vascular paper so thin and transparent that it looked like her tan had been applied to the muscles themselves.

Mercy walked through the door of the gas station moments later and drew the eyes of everyone inside. She was completely naked save her over-stuffed leather jacket, which was forced open by her heaving upper body. Her creaky, over-burdened skin was beaded with cold water that ran between each of her peaks and valleys.
Everyone watched her walked to the counter, their eyes in awe at the rippling movement in her elephantine thighs and double-bowling ball calves. She seemed unconcerned about her nude pussy or shotgun shell nipples. Gasps and cries circulated the aisles at the extreme grotesquery of her pump. Snarling veins strangled every conceivable surface of hyper-shredded musculature to the point where her very humanity was in question.
The supreme girl-Hercules dropped 50 dollars in front of the cashier. The clerk was rendered useless by the inconceivably gorgeous face perched upon her jacked-up physique.
"Pump number 2..." She spoke with cool detachment.

Exiting into the glaring sun, Mercy put on a pair of sunglasses from her jacket. She climbed back onto her motorcycle and started it up with a roar. Everyone inside the store watched the bulging stallion rev the engine before squealing off in a cloud of dust. She was truly hell on wheels - a living, breathing furnace of sinew with enough raw potential to become the most muscular human being on the planet. But she was damaged goods and she couldn't escape it. She knew her future awaited her somewhere down that endless highway, but so did her past... and it scared the hell out of her.

[RobDubya]

THE HUNGER

Prelude 2

By: Anonymous

Mercy continued riding down the road in the mid-day sun, her body still bulging and throbbing with engorged muscle. She was a vision of pure muscle fantasy, riding on a powerful steel horse down a long and dusty highway. She saw a small strip mall coming up ahead and decided to try and get some clothes for her naked body. The humming and vibration of the steel engine sent shivers up her muscle engorged clit and she started getting that feeling again. She saw a small store outlet that looked deserted and decided to try there. She parked her hog and hopped off. She opened the door to the small shop and a bell overhead rang her in. The clerk had her back faced to Mercy and didn’t see her come in. She was on a ladder stocking the upper shelves when Mercy walked in.

Mercy looked up and saw long, lightly muscled legs that ran up a loose plaid skirt. The clerk had her chestnut brown hair up in a bun and she wore a light olive green turtle neck sweater and glasses. She kind of reminded Mercy of those shy nerdy girls in high school that use to hang out in the libraries all the time. Mercy stood near the ladder and cleared her throat. The clerk was startled and fell back off of the ladder right into Mercy’s strong arms. She felt as light as a paper weight to the muscle bound vixen. As the clerk readjusted her glasses and hair, Mercy was taken aback at the soft brown eyes of the teenager. The Clerk in turn was stunned at her saviours stunning super model face.

“Uh..t-t-thanks for catching me…” she whispered as she stared in awe into Mercy’s beautiful angelic face. Her voice had a soft and innocent quality to it that mesmerized and enticed the red-hot bodybuilder.

‘Um..n-n-no problem…” she stammered back. The clerk had soft full pink lips that were inviting and sensuous. Mercy found herself struggling to not lean in and kiss those beautiful lips.

“I’m Nancy” she said, introducing herself. Mercy inhaled her sweet essence that filled her nostrils and became light headed by the lingering fragrance.

“Hi, Nancy…I’m…” she paused; her eyes closed as she pulled Nancy closer to her and inhaled her perfume. Her B Cup sized breasts enthralled Mercy as her perfume climbed its way up to her, making the hard muscles bulge beneath the leather jacket. “M-m-m Mercy, I’m Mercy…” she said finally.

“I’m guessing you’re needing some clothes huh Mercy?” the bodybuilder opened her eyes from her reverie and blushed at the young teen.

“Oh yeah, sorry bout that” she put the young teen girl down on her feet. This time it was Nancy that gasped, she saw Mercy’s fully pumped muscle-bod engorged and throbbing, even more so now she had unwittingly enticed the massive bodybuilder. Nancy had always had a fetish for muscular men while she was growing up, but this muscle goddess put all her dreams to shame. Mercy was bigger and more vascular than anything that she could imagine, her legs were huge and defined tree trunks of pure muscle. Her calves were rock hard and shaped like diamonds and absolutely pumped to the max. Thick, hose-like veins ran up and down her muscular thighs giving her legs a monstrous, powerful look. Nancy’s eyes followed up to her steel abs that looked like muscle stuffed fists fighting for room on her waist, her stomach was shredded and looked like an anatomy chart. Mercy involuntarily flexed per massive pecs which crumpled like steel, creating 2 solid blocks of pure muscle. Nancy gasped as the muscle valley that her pecs created ran up to her thick, hard traps. The leather jacket looked like it was ready to burst, just like the orgasm that was building inside of Nancy. Mercy’s already heightened senses could smell the pungent juices building in Nancy’s crotch and had an idea.

“I’ll tell you what, let’s cut the bull shit. I need clothes and I know my muscles are turning you on. So how bout I hit a few poses for you in exchange for some threads?” she said cockily. The young girl stared at this she-stud speechlessly, too stunned at not only her bold proposal but also that fact that even tho she did not have a lesbian bone in her body this hard bodied muscle mare was turning her on more so than any of her magazine fantasies. She didn’t need anymore coaxing and quietly walked over and locked the door and lowered the shades so that they could not be bothered.

“Well…” she said as she slowly turned to face the leather clad bodybuilder, “if you want to put it that way…” she continued in a sensuous, sultry voice. Nancy took her glasses off and shook her long brown hair loose and let it cascade over her shoulders. Mercy gasped at her enticing and inviting brown eyes and was immediately wet with anticipation. Nancy knew she had the hulking female mesmerized and under her spell. “We’ll have to take some measurements first…why don’t you do me a favor first tho…” she said softly as she sexily sauntered up to Mercy. The bodybuilder could see the clerks hardening nipples tent her sweatshirt as she walked towards her. Nancy leaned in close to Mercy’s ear, letting her sweet essence invade the bodybuilder’s senses again. Her nipples lightly touched the heavily muscled chest and sent a shockwave of pleasure over the both of them, “its quite clear that your hard…ripped…powerful…muscles are definitely turning me on…”she whispered.

Mercy’s senses were beginning to go into overdrive as she emphasized each word. “But what would definitely turn me on is to see you zipper up that leather jacket of yours and flex those powerful muscles out of them”. The very thought of this drove Nancy almost to the breaking point, her breathing became heavy in anticipation of what was about to come. Mercy flexed her massive biceps and could feel them roaring under the tight leather jacket, wanting to break out and tear the thick fabric to pieces. Mercy reached out for the young clerk’s waist and pulled her in so that their bodies were touching. Nancy orgasmed right there as she felt Mercy flex her entire muscled body, she could feel her power and strength which turned her on even more. Mercy couldn’t hold herself back any longer and pulled Nancy in close and planted a deep, passionate kiss on her sensuous pink lips. Nancy felt an electrifying rush of pure ecstasy shoot right thru her body and down to her dripping wet labia. Nancy’s body began to shake and tremble from the surge of hormones and she began pressing in harder onto Mercy’s rock hard, muscular body, feeling the unbelievable hardness of her super pumped muscles. Mercy's tongue invaded the young clerk’s mouth with total abandon as her body began to react to the increased sexual excitement.

Mercy broke the intense kiss and locked eyes with the clerk. Still holding her by her waist with her left arm, she straightened her right arm out and looked lustily in her eyes. Now it was Nancy’s turn to be enthralled as she watched the thick black leather sleeve that covered Mercy’s arm throb and bulge as the red-hot she stud began to pump her arm with muscle by opening and closing her hand into a fist. She hadn’t even begun to flex hard yet as Nancy noticed the leather that covered her forearm begin to stretch out as if it were nothing more than a thin sheet of plastic. Mercy kept going, feeling the blood pump thru her veins, wanting to not just simply flex and tear the leather fabric but wanting to destroy the leather with her muscles. With each pump she visualized her forearm getting harder and more ripped, she pictured in her mind that she wanted it to be the most ripped and shredded forearm in the world. She turned and watches as the bulge of her sleeve began to grow inch by merciless inch, her biceps becoming infuriated at being contained within the tough piece of cow hide flesh, seeking release from its leathery prison. It wasn’t long that Mercy could feel the leather about to explode when she stopped and held her hand open, ready for one last flex, and looked at the helpless young clerk “If its muscle you want babe, then its muscle you’ll get!”

With one final, all-powerful flex of her hand the leather sleeve literally exploded as if it was made of rubber. Her incredibly muscled arm had destroyed all remnants of the leather sleeve, bits and pieces of it on the ground. Nancy was staring at the most muscular arm in the world; veins crisscrossed her forearms like the lines on a well worn map. Her arm throbbed and pulsed as if liquid steel was being pumped into her muscles, her biceps took on the look of an uncut boulder, and she hadn’t even begun to flex yet. A single, hose like vein that had to be at least 3 inches thick ran from her wrist all the way to her lats, separating her mountainous bicep from her sharply defined tricep. The young clerk was utterly mesmerized by the display of muscularity that this steel she-stud was showing. She stared at the massive monster, wanting nothing more than to feel its strength and power between her legs.

“Go ahead…touch it…feel the power…you know you want to…” Mercy whispered to the enthralled teen. Nancy was literally quivering with anticipation as she slowly reached up and put her hand on Mercy’s bicep. It felt hot to the touch, as if it just came out of the oven, the skin paper thin, made the bicep look like it was ready to explode. Then Mercy clenched her fist and began an excruciating slow flex. A soft moan escaped Nancy’s lips as she felt the monster bicep come alive with power. She ran her right hand all over the hard, defined muscle, desiring nothing more than to run her own rock hard nipples over the monster. Her bicep began its agonizingly slow ascent, rising inch by massive inch, becoming more defined by the second. Nancy’s breathing became shallow and labored as she felt the muscle began to peak under her hand, even at only a 45 degree angle she guessed it was near 30 inches already. This made Nancy’s already swollen clit quiver with anticipation, while her left hand kept itself busy feeling the powerful, pillar like neck muscles that bulged and hardened under her sensual touch. Mercy focused even more strength and power into her flex as the monster bicep continued to take the shape of a chiseled boulder, becoming even more defined than any bicep on the planet. Finally, in full flex, Mercy turned to her young captive and whispered,

“Well, you wanted to get some measurements…” she let go of the young clerk so that Nancy could begin to measure her bicep.
Nancy reached for the measuring tape, her hands shaking in anticipation of what was about to happen. She took the tape and wrapped it around the monster and almost orgasmed at the number.

“Well, what’s it measure babe?”

“T-t-thirty-Nine…i-i-inches…” she said in excitement. She had never been this close to a real live muscle specimen and here she was living out her deepest fantasy with a muscle bound goddess.

“Thirty-Nine? Gimme a sec…” Mercy responded. She gave two more powerful pumps and flexed again. “Now what does it say?”

“oh…my…god…F-f-forty Two…”, that was it. Nancy’s orgasm hit her like a mack truck and she screamed in ecstasy and started falling backwards. Mercy caught her with her right arm just before she hit the floor and held her easily as she would hold a doll.

[RobDubya]

THE HUNGER

Chapter 1

By: Mr. Shhh


Mercy climbed off her Harley and flipped the kickstand. Taking off her sunglasses, she looked over the small town. The sign on the highway had said Iron Side, but the name didn’t matter - it could have been any of the towns she’d passed through in the last few weeks. She’d already spotted three gyms on the main street alone, not to mention a supplement shop. There was no doubt this was a muscle town. Then again, every town was a muscle town.

As Mercy walked the street, she was virtually alone. It was Sunday. Everyone must have been at home, glued to the Galaxian finals. What was the point, Mercy thought? With Eve jumping from her original super heavyweight category, past mega weight to the brand-new Colossus weight, there was no contest at all. Not yet, anyway.

Passing the town hall, Mercy noticed a large banner draped between the buildings. It was an ad for an annual arm-wrestling competition. The guest of honor was Brock Kruger – also known as “Brock the Rock”. Mercy had seen him in some unregulated shows, the kind that loved ‘roid burners. He was a human Mac truck, easily super-heavyweight class. Must have been a local boy.

At the end of the strip, Mercy was drawn to a tall, flashing sign. The name “Hard Bodies” sat atop an outline of a busty cartoon girl flexing her baseball-sized biceps. Mercy grinned and tightened her fist. The sleeve of her coat groaned as a bulge the size of a bowling ball pushed through.

* * *

Mercy walked through the door of the dark strip club. A burly bouncer looked up from his newspaper and nearly fell over. In a room full of bulging beauties, Mercy was a knockout. Her face was gorgeous, yet clearly that of a hardcore athlete. Her skin was tight, almost gaunt and framed by a surprising amount of vacularity.

At 5’6, she wasn’t tall – but whatever she lacked in height, she more than made up for in shocking thickness. Even in her tight leather coat, the bouncer could hardly believe how dense she seemed. She was so wide that she completely blocked the doorway.

Between the leathers, the sunglasses and her tight jeans – Mercy was butch sex dream. As she walked towards him, the bouncer could hear the floor creak beneath her incredible weight.

“I’m looking for work.” Mercy stated.


THE HUNGER

Chapter 2

By: Mr. Shhh

As Mercy was lead through the neon-lit club, she glanced up at the stage. There were a half-dozen girls in the midst of their performances, each one a brawny beauty. At least three of the girls looked like fitness stars – lean and thinly muscled. They each sported a pair of fake breasts ranging from large to absurd.

The next two girls looked like Olympia contestants. Thought not nearly as cut, they sported an impressive amount of muscle mass.

The last girl was a whole other story. She was clearly the most popular, as the majority of the club patrons were gathered at her feet and glued to her every flex.

Mercy placed her at near super-heavyweight class, which made her much more muscular than your average male bodybuilder. While that wasn’t as uncommon as it used to be, it was still extremely impressive in person. The girl was also big, at least 6 feet, which made more like a mountain than a stripper.

The girl sauntered over to a large universal gym setup on stage and climbed on. It was funny to Mercy that weights were as common in strip clubs as brass poles. The crowd hooted and hollered as the girl toyed with the weight selection before setting it to a frighteningly large number. Even more impressive was the sheer amount of weight available to her. There must have been some serious heavyweights dancing there.

A new music track came on, signaling a change in lighting. Soft pink spotlights outlined the contours of the girl’s hulking, man-like body as she closed her eyes. With an erotic moan, she began crunching out slow reps on the pec deck.

The crowd went nuts as the enormous stack of weights began to rise. These guys must have been serious muscle addicts, as the girl was anything but sexy. Years of steroid abuse had clearly taken its toll. Her face was hard and brutish. Her figure was slab-like, and her tits were simply nubs protruding from her shredded he-pecs. Yet with each rep, her overwhelming muscularity sent the crowd into an uproar. 27 inch arms must really do it for them, Mercy thought.

* * *

A knock on the door startled Tony Bartello. The scrawny club owner pulled his face out of a girl’s cleavage.

“W-what?!”

The door opened and the bouncer appeared.

“Can’t you see I’m busy with – important business things?” Bartello barked.

The girl hastily pulled on her bra, mildly embarrassed.

“There’s a girl here to see you. Wants to dance.”

“Every girl wants to dance. Tell her to get some muscles!”

The bouncer glanced back. His face returned, pale.

“She’s got muscles, boss.”

Bartello paused.

“Okay, send her in.”

The bouncer stepped out of the way as Mercy appeared. She turned sideways to pass through the doorway – her chest and back literally pressing against both sides of the frame.

The club owner’s eyes widened at the sight of the gorgeous creature before him. Even the half-naked girl was taken back by Mercy’s striking beauty. Those thick, dick-sucking lips. Those piercing green eyes. That silky, black hair. She was an absolute babe.

Mercy glanced over at the girl on the desk. Even the floozies were built. The girl had noticeable striations on her broad shoulders and chest.

“I’m passing through town and I need some work.” Mercy spoke, her voice soft and feminine.

Bartello and the floozy both scanned Mercy’s enormous body. It was hard to get a read on her exact physique other than her colossal bulk. She looked like two 300 pound couch potatoes put together.

“I don’t need any girls.” Bartello answered, playing it cool.

“You need me.”

Bartello smirked. She had attitude. He hated attitude.

“What I need honey, are huge, ripped, bodybuilding sluts. I need girls so muscular that buttons pop off their shirts when they breathe. I need girls who are so fucking built that they can’t even reach their own feet.”

“Don’t I look big?” Mercy answered, unfazed.

“Girly, you look like you get a discount buying pork rhinds wholesale.”

The owner glanced at the floozy, who had slid her shirt back on.

“What do you make of her?”

The girl looked Mercy over one more time.

“She’s a big fat fattie.”

“You see that beast on stage when you came in?” Bartello mused. “That she-man’s Olga. She’s 325 pounds of contest-ready muscle. Cut like a diamond. Fuckin’ huge. Sure, she looks like an uglier Lou Ferigno, but she’s got what the customers want. What’ve you got?”

Mercy glanced over at the one-way glass framing the side of the office. She could see Olga on stage, finishing her set. She was a sweaty, pumped-up monstrosity.

“I weighed 325 pounds when I was 16.” She answered

Reaching for her jacket, she unzipped it.   

[RobDubya]

THE HUNGER

Chapter 3

By: Mr. Shhh

Red looked up from his work to see a motorcycle roaring up his driveway. The sun was already setting - who the hell could this be?

The noisy vehicle pulled up in front of his quaint farm house in a cloud of dust.

“Can I help you?” The grey-haired old man called out.

He watched a young woman in tight leather and denim climb off.

“I’m here about the room. My Name's Mercy.”

As she approached him, Red was amazed by her stunning beauty. She reminded him of his wife when she was young - a real looker.

Turning back to his work, he continued jacking up the end of the large tractor in front of him. A spare tire sat nearby.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a boring place like this?” Red asked, struggling with the jack.

“Just passing through. I need the place for about a week.”

“Where ya headed?”

“Vegas.” Mercy responded. “I’m going to win the Galaxian.”

Red jerked sharply, knocking the jack loose. The ground shook as the huge tractor fell back to Earth with a crash.

“God damn it!!” He cursed.

Looking up at Mercy, Red noticed her incredible width. He could spot a bodybuilder a mile away and knew in an instant that she was packing some serious mass.

“You look like a big girl, think you could give me a hand with this son of a bitch?”

Mercy glanced at the tractor. It looked heavy. A smile wrapped across her lips.

Stepping up, she bent over and put her hands under the rear axel. With one powerful thrust, the wheels lifted off the ground. Red watched a series of veins bulge along Mercy’s neck and temples. He could hear her leather coat stretching as her back widened noticeably.

For a moment, it looked like she had bitten off more than she could chew. Then, with a soft grunt, the tractor raised higher. Mercy’s huge thighs almost doubled in size, splitting stitches along her jeans and revealing hints of bronzed flesh beneath.

Finally straightening up, Mercy held the entire end of the tractor at a 45 degree angle.

“You’re a strong one, that’s for damn sure!” Red exclaimed, absolutely flabbergasted at the girl’s strength.

“Must be the fresh air.”

As Mercy continued to hold the heavy tractor aloft, Red undid the bolts on the damaged tire.

“Room’s $100 a week. I’ll have breakfast ready at 6 am every morning.”

“I hope it’s a big breakfast. I’ve got an appetite.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Red commented, glancing at the soccer ball-sized calves straining against her jeans.

Pulling the old tire off, Red grabbed the new one and hoisted it into place.

“Y’know, my wife was into weight lifting, god rest her soul. My sons too, so I know a thing or two about muscles.”

“Maybe you can recommend a place where I can get a workout.”

Red finished tightening the bolts.

“There are some good gyms in town, but I figure a girl who can lift a tractor needs something a bit more… substantial.”

* * *

Red opened a set of large wooden doors, revealing a musty old barn. Following him inside, Mercy gazed at an endless row of cast iron plates running the length of the wall. Beside them were old engine blocks and axels.

“My dear, sweet Mindy had a real talent for weightlifting.” Red reminisced. “Strong as an ox, that one.”

Red pointed to the ceiling.

“She used to use that pulley in here to work out. After a while, we had to get it reinforced because of how much weight she was hoisting.”

Mercy examined a set of thick, industrial-sized chains dangling from the roof. They were intimidating as hell. Each was attached to four cast-iron pulleys bolted some 30 feet above.

“What she used to do is load these here scales with whatever she could find. Logs. Rocks. We had all sorts of heavy stuff around here.”

Mercy saw the two scales on the ground. They were big enough to hold refrigerators.

“What do you think? Too heavy for ya?” Red asked, folding his arms.

Mercy smiled lightly.

“I wouldn't bet on it.”
 

THE HUNGER

Chapter 4

By: Mr. Shhh

It was after dark when Mercy pulled into the Hard Bodies parking lot. As she climbed off her motorcycle, she noticed that the placed was filled to capacity. Rows of cars were even parked on the grass, along with a few dozen motorcycles and campers.

As she walked towards the rear entrance, she glanced at the sign on the side of the road. A new message had appeared.

One week only – MERCY, the biggest, baddest, beefiest hard body imaginable. You’ve never seen a girl this hardcore – or the drinks are free.

“You better be seriously huge.” A voice came from behind.

Mercy turned to see Olga leaning against the edge of the building. Her tight tank top was wet with sweat from a recent performance.

Flicking a cigarette away, she approached Mercy. Standing face to face, the gigantic stripper towered over the raven-haired girl.

“The place is jammed. Bartello’s been telling everyone in town that you’re the most muscular bitch he’s ever seen.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Mercy remarked, unfazed by the female behemoth.

 A sly grin formed on Olga’s face.

“Look at you – you’re just a little girl. What are you? 19? 20 maybe? You really think you can compete with this?”

Olga lifted her heavy arms and hit a staggering double bicep pose. Gritting her teeth, she snarled and pumped more and more mass into her already huge arms. Veins exploded all over her body as her shirt began to rip.

With one loud grunt, her entire top tore right down the middle, revealing her disgustingly over-muscled man-tits.     

“You’re going to look like a joke next to me!”

Unimpressed, Mercy continued on her way. The infuriated Olga grabbed her arm.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Mercy stopped. Looking up at Olga, she closed her fist and squeezed.

Olga watched her big fingers separate as the young girl’s arm swelled with pure muscle mass.

The big, butch bodybuilder couldn’t believe how hard Mercy’s arm felt. It was like steel. The swell of her bicep was even more unbelievable. Olga’s meaty hand didn’t even cover a fraction of it.

Olga looked at the gorgeous muscle-hulk was an expression of complete disbelief. The color instantly drained from her face.

“Excuse me; I have a show to do.”

* * *

Olga hadn’t lied. The club was clearly packed well past the legal limit. Of the 4 stages scattered around the main room, 3 had been closed and lined with extra seats. At least half of the main floor had been restricted to standing room only and was filled with patrons huddled shoulder to shoulder. 

Bartello walked nervously through the swelling crowd on his way to a mic stand. He could feel the tension in the air. If Mercy didn’t impress this crowd, he was in serious trouble.

“Good evening everyone, welcome to Hard Bodies.”

The crowd booed. Napkins flew at him.

“Um – tonight I have the distinct pleasure of presenting to you a woman of exceptional beauty and – huh, overwhelming muscularity. Never before have you witnessed such a staggering degree of thick, painfully lean muscle mass on a single human being – man or woman –“

“Bring out the bulging bitch!” A voice yelled.

Bartello was quickly loosing the crowd.

“Show us her so-called muscles!”

“She better be a fuckin’ beast!!”

* * *

“57... 58... 59... 60...”

A large dumbbell dropped to the concrete floor, shaking the dingy dressing room. The 4 thick plates of super-dense iron on either end made it look nearly immovable.

Mercy leaned over a stained sink and looked in the mirror. Even with a single flickering light bulb illuminating her, she still looked like a goddess.

“You’ll be okay. Just flex those big muscles…”

Examining her own face, she realized the glitter she had applied couldn’t hope to mask the bulging veinage that was running beneath her tight skin.

“They’re not like the others. They all want to see your rippling body…”

A pounding at the door snapped her back to reality.

“You’re on!” A voice called.

Mercy took one last look at herself, her gaze deep and penetrating.

“Show them what a freak you’ve become…”

[RobDubya]

THE HUNGER

Chapter 5

By: Mr. Shhh

The lights shut off in the club, plunging it into darkness.

Hoots and hollers erupted as a slow, sensual song began playing. The dirty lyrics sent an immediate charge of sexuality through the room.

As a single light faded up, the audience noticed the silhouette of a body on stage, though its contours were so wide that it looked more like a small car. The rim light grew slowly stronger revealing traps and shoulders that couldn’t possibly belong to a human being.

The noise in the room began to quiet down as people gazed at the statue-like figure. Shoulders bled into a back of such astonishing width that it seemed to take up half the stage.

At the back of the room, Bartello and the bouncers watched in rapt attention, their jaws opening in astonishment. The other dancers had all gathered, even those who had the night off. None of them could tear their eyes away from the stage.

More and more of the hulking colossus was revealed. Thighs flared menacingly like two sides of beef. Each calf was a distended pumpkin.

Waitresses stopped what they were doing and stared with fright. The bartenders were transfixed.

By the time the first music track was done, the room was like a library.

The next track kicked in, signaling a flood of pink and blue lights. A pulsing, electronic tempo blasted through the speakers as the behemoth on stage turned around and met a thousand unbelieving faces.     

A dozen glasses and bottles crashed to the floor around the room. Gasps and shrieks were heard everywhere. Several people rushed for the exit. A few fainted in the aisles.

Mercy sauntered up the stage as gracefully as someone of her extreme bodyweight possibly could - each step testing the structural strength of the floor beneath her. She stopped at the edge of the stage and presented herself for all to see.

The supposed “female” on stage wasn’t just huge or ripped, she was a complete monstrosity. Bartello’s claims had been dead on – no one in the room had ever seen anyone even close to her level.

“Jesus…… H…… Christ…….” One of the bouncers gasped, clearly shaken to his core.

All around the room, dozens of self-proclaimed muscle maniacs found themselves similarly rattled. She was just too big – too harshly cut.

Everything about Mercy blew even the massive Olga out of the water. This sexy, 5’6 dancer packed so much muscle mass that she completely dwarfed the 6’5, Teutonic ‘roid-monster. Yet it was the totality of Mercy’s muscles - the sheer, monumental girth that made her so impossible to accept. 

Mercy put her small hands on her waist and tensed her chest. Two pecs as thick as televisions crumpled into a twisted, razor-sharp orgy of striations. Olga’s thick man-tits had been hardcore, but Mercy made her look like a Playboy playmate. Not a hint of female breast tissue remained anywhere on Mercy’s chest. Her pecs were laser-sculpted hunks of brute power.

Attempting to contain those rocky eruptions was a brass bra connected by chains. What little clothing Mercy wore followed a similar motif - she was a bulging barbarian bodybuilder.

Wrapped around her rippling arms were two brass bands. A thin, metal g-string was all that hid her sexuality, while a pair of 5 inch, fur-lined stiletto boots gave her that “fuck-me” look. Her silky black hair was braided and hung down her meaty back while a steel crown adorned her sharp, painfully-dieted face.

Mercy’s flawless skin, bathed in baby blue light, had been wetted down with glitter from head to toe. It did nothing to soften her unladylike brawn. Her muscles were punishingly hard and masculine.

Bending down, Mercy reached into the first row and grabbed the shirts of two audience members. With one in each hand, she clenched her teeth and hoisted the men out of their seats.

The surprised men, each a heavy, blue collar type, dangled several feet in the air. Clutching Mercy’s wrists, they felt dozens of vein-covered tendons writhing beneath their hands.

Mercy stared into the audience - her gaze almost as powerful as her grip. Even with her body buried beneath hundreds of pounds of man-muscle, her raw, female sexuality was undeniable.

Her already sizable lips had become swollen with arousal, making those over-stuffed dick-suckers totally obscene. Moving her tongue in slow circles, her auburn lipstick began to glisten with saliva. She could almost taste the blow-job fantasies coming to life in the audience.

Time seemed meaningless as the house cross-examined Mercy’s every movement. Slowly, she lowered her tree-trunk arms until they were extended straight out - the two men’s combined bodyweight supported entirely by her inhuman strength.

Her arms shook as dozens of veins flared through her skin. They systematically covered every inch of her flesh until they joined the snakes in her wide shoulders. Her huge, heavy biceps were so madly developed that even fully extended, they bulged outward like two cantaloupes.

With a sexy, dick-stiffening grunt, Mercy began to slowly curl the two men like a pair of dumbbells. Half the jaws in the room dropped at once – each man had to weight at least 200 pounds. A few of the closer audience members actually whipped their dicks out and started going to town.

“Unnnnnhhhhh……..” Mercy moaned as she began her second rep. The dense vascularity covering her arms quickly spread across her tight chest and started running up her neck. Her quads and hamstrings quivered under the strain.

“C’mon! Lift ‘em you bitch!!” A voice yelled.

Mercy tightened her grip and pressed harder.

On the apex of her second curl, the humongous peak of her straining biceps almost touched her wrists. The brass bands that were wrapped around them creaked under the stress of so much girl meat.

Down the men came, like two overgrown babies. At the bottom of her motion, Mercy cried out in pain.

“Go for 3!!” Came the voices of the audience.   

Mercy shifted her legs, sending ripples through her grotesquely lean thigh-muscles. She looked like a living anatomy chart. The expansion of her upper legs sent the sweep of her quads exploding past her waist by almost a full foot.   

The third rep was agonizingly slow. The veinage that covered her bull-neck was now spreading across her face. Yet even under such torture, there was no break in her machine-like precision.

Half-way up, the straining muscle bimbo cried out through clenched teeth, her erotic agony causing a dozen ejaculations. Her body began to take on a wet sheen as sweat mixed with her glitter paint.

At the top of the rep, Mercy’s huge biceps literally pressed against her fists.

With a loud ping, the brass bands gave up and exploded off her arms.

The demand of curling two full-grown men had caused Mercy’s back to become even more pumped than her arms. Her already world-class V-shape had increased dramatically, resulting in a span wider than the tables in the club. Her colossal deltoids, each a sculpted division of individual blades, were fast becoming absorbed by those meat wings.

By the time Mercy lowered the two men again, she had lost even the loosest sense of female shape. The twitching trapezes muscles framing her head were rising like a fast tide. With another curl, she might lose her neck entirely. She looked like a human refrigerator.   

The audience was now opening cheering. She was beyond their wildest dreams – a sexy slut stronger than any three of them put together.

“One more time, baby!” Someone cried.

Mercy’s arms shook hard. Veins were pulsing across her forehead and temples.

“You can’t do it!”

“She’s too weak!!”

Suddenly, the hyper-ripped bodybuilder shuddered and lifted the two men with one hard jerk. The deeply split heads of her biceps squashed against her knuckles.

Holding them at the top of her curl, her wet lips twitched with pain.

Slowly, her arms began to separate as if she were doing deltoid presses. Her body widened substantially as she brought her gargantuan arms to either side – the 2 heavy bodies still in her steel grasp.

The audience couldn’t believe what they were witnessing. Mercy was now in a full-on double-bicep pose, her entire body fully flexed and pumped to the extreme. Her poor costume was totally overwhelmed. Hunks of twitching pec muscle were overflowing past her barbarian bra in every direction.

Taking in a deep breath, the chains finally gave way. Metal exploded into the audience as Mercy’s naked muscle tits became completely exposed. Without the bra to provide some semblance of womanhood, her chest was just too masculine. The hideous mish-mash of veins, tendons and striations was out of control.

Finally, Mercy lowered her arms and placed the two men on the stage. They stood above her, their knees shaking. Though they towered over her miniscule height, they looked like children next to her indescribable uber-mass. 

The sexy music track came to an end and the panting Mercy reached up and gave one of the men a sensual kiss on the lips. As she turned and walked back up the stage, he looked as if he’d been kissed by a goddess. So did the rest of the crowd.



THE HUNGER

Chapter 6

By: Mr. Shhh

Mercy was still pumped when she emerged from the dressing room. Walking through the busy club, she drew stares from everyone. An athletics t-shirt was brutally stretched over her ludicrously meaty back and bowling ball shoulders. Thick veins could be seen pressing through the cotton and running across her bulbous biceps. Even her jeans could barley contain her obscene thighs and calves.

Ignoring the eyes on her, the sexy Amazon beef cake approached the bar. Waiting for the busy bartender, she heard a soft voice beside her.

“Your performance was really hot.”

Mercy turned to see a one of the club’s strippers standing beside her. The girl looked to be in her early twenties. She was dressed in a tiny miniskirt that barely covered a tight, fitness girl physique.

“How does a girl get such big muscles?” She asked, toying with her drink.

“Lots of vigorous exercise.” Mercy replied, openly scanning the girl’s hot body.

Whatever surgeon this girl had gone to, he’d done the job right. Her huge tits were practically exploding off her muscular chest.

“Lifting all those big, heavy weights must get you so hot and sticky….”

Slowly, the girl’s hands began to run over the peaks and valleys of Mercy’s gigantic bicep. She moved along her intensely vascular forearms and up her triceps. The amount of veinage pulsating through Mercy’s flesh was almost sickening.

“You’re so dry. But there must be some fat left somewhere on your body...”

The girl began to explore Mercy’s rippling torso. As she moved closer, Mercy could feel the girl’s heaving breasts press against her. Her nipples felt like two shot glasses.

“I’d love to peel this shirt off and explore every inch of your body in private. That is, if you’re not shy….?”

The girl’s face was now inches from Mercy’s. The massive bodybuilder could smell the girl’s perfume on her neck.

Suddenly, a harsh, baritone voice rang out.

“TANYA!”

Mercy watched the girl’s face tighten in panic.

The floor shook as a monstrous mountain of muscles made its way through the club. Mercy recognized him immediately. It was Brock Kruger himself, the state super-heavyweight champion.

“Get your ass over here!”

Two giant hands grabbed the girl and wrenched her away from Mercy.

“What’re you wasting your time with this flabby slut for? You’re only into the freakiest hardcore muscle around.

“I guess that’s why she was checking me out.” Mercy muttered.

Brock’s tiny eyes widened noticeably. The room seemed to go quiet as he turned to Mercy.

“Did you say something, bitch?”

Stepping up to the muscular girl athlete, his shadow all but eclipsed her. His massive height and unyielding girth made him seem more like a building than a man.

Tilting her head, Mercy took in his mammoth body. If ever there was a case for steroid abuse, Kruger was it. His physique was so hideously over-developed that he looked like he was going to rip through his own skin. He was ripped to the point that he seemed to be in a perpetual state of flex.

“I saw you on TV a few years ago. You were pretty big.” Mercy spoke, her voice soft and calm.

“I’ll be sure to give you an autograph after I smash your face into the pavement!” Kruger hissed, raising his arm.

Taking a swing, Mercy caught his fist with her opposite hand. To Kruger’s amazement, he found his arm frozen in place.

Neither the crowd, nor the hulking Kruger could believe what they were witnessing. The two thick arms shook with strain as they pressed against each other.

Looking at Mercy, Kruger found her face a picture of restrained concentration. Startling veinage began to appear all over her tight face and neck as she held him back. More amazing was the state of her arm. The amount of tightly coiled muscle packed beneath her straining skin seemed impossible. Stitches pulled open along her shoulders and traps, revealing more and more tanned muscle beef.

“You’re not the biggest body in town anymore.” Mercy muttered, her body shaking lightly.

“You think you’re bigger than me?” Kruger yelled.

“Bigger. Stronger. Prettier.” 

A smile curled across the straining muscleman’s lips. He looked around at the audience.

“The little girl thinks she has what it takes to play with the big boys. Okay then. Come down to the arm wrestling competition tomorrow at the town hall and we’ll see if you’re man enough.”

Releasing his grip, Kruger turned and grabbed Tanya. The worried girl looked back at Mercy as she was dragged out the door.

[RobDubya]

THE HUNGER

Chapter 7

By: Mr. Shhh


That night, Mercy jerked and spasmed in her bed, her sheets wet with sweat. Her massive muscles twitched rhythmically with her tortured face.

“Nuuhh… n-no…..” She moaned, crying to the darkness.

* * *

Mercy held the apex of a punishing cable curl - her small, 12 year old body shaking violently from the extreme effort. Behind her, over half the weight stack of the universal gym was held aloft. It would have been a challenge for a full grown man, let alone a girl barley 5 feet tall.

“C’mon, Mercy! 3 more reps!” Her father encouraged, his big body just inches away.

Mercy’s lips twitched as she struggled with everything she had. Her body, while small and lithe, was impressively cut. It was almost disturbing to see someone that young so totally shredded. She put to shame most professional fitness competitors.

“It h-hurts so b-bad…!!” The girl cried, tears streaming down her face.

“The pain is good. It means your muscles are growing. You want big muscles don’t you?”

Mercy swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath, she tightened her faced and powered through another rep. Her muscular body flared with astounding detail as she willed the weights up.

Towards the top of the motion, she began to stall out. Her arms shook as she struggled to keep the weights from falling.

“C’mon, don’t stop! You can do it!”

Mercy shook her head in agony.

“I can’t….!!!”

“You can be the biggest bodybuilder in the world, Mercy. You just have to want it!”

“I-I…!!”

Mercy struggled with her grip. The sweat pouring down her arms was making the handles slippery. To her dismay, she could see the weight stacks falling slowly.

She tensed her body with everything she had left, but still they fell.

“Don’t let them fall, Mercy! You can finish it!” Her father yelled.

Veins flared along the young girl’s temples as she literally flexed her body to its zenith. Her thin chest exploded with incredible striations. Her shoulders and biceps became hyper-defined masses of pre-teen muscle. Yet the weights kept falling… falling… falling…

* * *

Mercy sat up with a yell. It took her a few seconds to realize she was in her rented room. She was panting like she had run a marathon. Her undershirt and hair were dripping with sweat.

Holding up her arms, she tightened her forearms and looked at them. Each one was a thick side of beef wrapped in veins and striations. As she tightened her fists, their girth both expanded and tightened. The size and breadth of her forearm musculature nearly doubled, while simultaneously becoming even more defined and vascular.

 She didn’t seem at all satisfied.



THE HUNGER

Chapter 8

by Mr. Shhh

Strength competitions had become an increasingly popular draw across the country in the last few decades and the Iron Side annual arm wrestling tournament was no different.   Today however, was pandemonium.

Word of Brock Kruger’s challenge had spread to the furthest reaches of the country drawing a crowd that could barely be contained inside the town hall.  Everyone it seems wanted to have a look at the massively muscle-bound stripper who had burned up: Hardbodies.

As Mercy walked up the steps of the venue, she drew stares from every man, woman and child.  She could almost hear the jaws hitting the ground.  Gasps of amazement were followed by nervous whispers.

“Did you see the size of her?”

“She’s even BIGGER than I heard!”

“How wide do you think that back is?!”

Inside, the brawny beauty took in the view.  Hundreds of tables were set up for individual matches.  A large table in the center was reserved for the grand finale.

“You should have run off in the night.” Came a familiar bellow.

Mercy turned to see Kruger approaching.  He stopped in front of her casting a shadow the size of a house.  His eyes crept across Mercy’s steel-hard curves like a sleazy caress.

“Damn, girl.  You are one sweet piece of ass…”

Grabbing her chest, Kruger proceeded to feel up her medicine ball pecs.  To Kruger’s surprise, Mercy didn’t resist.   

“No tits at all.  What’s the deal?  Do you want to be a man?”

Licking his lips, the massive brute explored Mercy’s rocky mid-section before grabbing her ass.  Her glutes were so ripped that he could barely squeeze them.

“Shit, hard as rocks.  You’re breakin’ my heart, honey.  Still, I’m bettin’ there’s something left that's soft…”

A sly grin wrapped across his lips.  Slowly, his hands moved between the raven-haired girl’s legs.  A growing crowd of on-lookers watched as Kruger slid his hand down Mercy’s pants.

Suddenly, the big brute’s expression shattered.  His face went ghost white as he began to realize the full extent of Mercy’s inhuman conditioning.  Where there should have been the soft folds of female genitalia, Kruger just felt diamond, vein-engorged muscle.

Pulling his hand away, Kruger seemed deeply shaken.

“… Jesus, even your cunt!!  Y-you’re sick!”

“I guess that means we can get started then.”  Mercy responded, tightening her fists.

“Not so fast, Miss,” Came a new voice, this one belonging to a thin man behind Kruger.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to climb the ladder of competition before you can challenge Mr. Kruger."

Mercy’s smoldering features tightened at this new development.

“Oh, I’m sorry,“ Kruger mocked.  “Did I forget to mention that yesterday?  You have to win your place to take on the champ.”       

Mercy turned and glanced over the sea of tables.  It looked like every athlete and bodybuilder in the State had turned up to take a shot at her.  Rows of beefy brutes were pumping up with everything from free weights to cinder blocks.

“You’ve only got four hours left to accumulate more wins that the current leader.”  The thin man continued.  “He’s standing at 56 victories over the past 5 days.”

Mercy suddenly felt a thousand eyes fixed on her.  A panicked expression tinted her usually ice-cold face.

***

The doors to the women’s washroom swung open.  Mercy rushed to the sink and turned the tap.  Her heartbeat felt like a cavalry charge.  A handful of ice cold water slapped her to attention.

Looking in the mirror, she saw a scared young girl staring back.  A flash of memory shot through her.

“Don’t quit!!  Don’t quit!!”  Shouted a voice from the past.

It was her father.  She could instantly feel an invisible strain like a hundred 50 pound plates strapped to every muscle.

“I won’t quit, Daddy.”  Mercy whispered.

Taking her hands off the sink, she brought them together in a strained crab flex.  Stitches in her shirt groaned as her tight man-muscles inflated.

“I won’t quit, Daddy!  I won’t!!”  Mercy called, he voice rising.

Squeezing her fists harder, the young girl began crunching out stronger flexes.  Artery-like veins pressed through her clothes and appeared across her neck.

Lifting her tremendous arms, Mercy fired out an earth-shattering bicep crunch.

“I won’t! quit!  I won’t quit!!”   She bellowed as her body pumped into a sick flurry of sinew.

***

“I’m ready.”  Came a determined voice from behind Kruger and the judges.

Turning to face it, everyone  found a hulking muscle-machine that looked ready to burst out of her clothes.  Mercy was back from the washroom, but she had left any trace softness at the door.  She looked harder and tougher than any man alive.

[jhunter]

Thank you for the collection. Nice read.

[egad00]

Thank you for the share.  Mr. Shhh took that story farther than I had realized.

[jumpy999]

A classic from Mr. Shhh. Chapter 5, in particular, is still one of the hottest muscle scenes I've ever read.

[AAFan]

Oh, Mercy!!

[AAFan]

I wonder if she has a sister...