SHERRY
- Throwing my hat in the first story category -
"Hey, look at this arm. Betcha it's bigger than yours."
Sherry had been flexing her bicep for about ten minutes, staring at it as she popped it up and down. And then for some reason she decided to single me out. Ofcourse I had been watching her flex the entire time, somehow enthralled that a girl was flexing her muscle. And I had the perfect vantage point, since she was sitting right next to me. I'd never even thought about muscular girls until that point. So I was kind of confused, you could say, and then all of the sudden nervous that she had seen me. But she was kind of a bully, so she was most likely just picking her next victim.
"Come on. Flex your muscle." She said leaning towards me.
I looked towards the front of the room, but the teacher was still out, making a run to the copy room or something. I didn't have much of a choice. So I pulled up my sleeve, revealing my truly noodle of an arm, and gave it a half hearted flex, with absolutely no result. Sherry started laughing. I could feel the red start to creep up my face.
"That's it? Look at this! This is a real muscle!" she said, popping her golf ball sized bicep up and down, the peak seemingly reaching higher everytime she pulled her forearm back, in what I would learn later was pretty much a perfect bodybuilder flex from a fifth grader. She practically shoved it in my face, flexing the peak under my nose.
"This is all girl muscle. Something you're never going to have. And guess what? I'm going to get way bigger. So much bigger, you're going to run away scared." She gave her arm one more flex, and with an evil smile, she sat down just before the teacher walked into the room.
After the end of fifth grade, Sherry and her family moved away. My feelings were torn- all the kids could breathe a sigh of relief, but at the same time I had this building attraction to girls with muscle. I found myself trying to discretly scope out the arms of every girl in every class. Somehow I even started keeping a rating system of how much and how well each girl's bicep flexed every day. I was becoming obsessed. And trying to look normal and not like some creep was very difficult. Not to mention resisting the urge to relieve myself in class. I managed to skirt the edge of creepiness through the next 6 and a half years. Then one day out of the blue, as I shut my locker door, I noticed someone leaning against the locker next to mine, staring at me.
"How's it, Bobby? Miss me?"
Sherry was back. The little muscular fifth grade puerto rican girl had morphed into a beautiful young woman with jet black hair and eyes sparkling like emeralds. I was so surprised by her face, I didn't notice the rest of her until she held up one of her arms and flexed. I almost gasped out loud. A huge ball of muscle sprung up. It looked bigger than a baseball, almost softball sized.
"Awesome, isn't it? Ofcourse it's nowhere near as big as I want it, but it'll do for today. Now come with me." She said, a big smile forming on her face.
"But my class is that way..." I barely finished before she grabbed my arm and yanked me along behind her. Her grip made it feel like my arm was in a metal vice, not able to move anywhere but the direction she was going.
"Class is in session now, Bobby. I am your teacher. No one else matters. You do as I say, or else. Got it?" she squeezed my forearm so hard, I thought it might pop.
"Where are we going?"
"First we are going to see my dad. From then on, let's just say it will be a surprise." She yanked me again, pulling me along so fast, I was almost tripping over my own feet. We arrived at the principal's office, and my confusion level skyrocketed. She pushed the door open and dragged me inside.
"Daddy, I need the rest of the day off. Bobby and I are going to have a little fun." She told the principal. A tall man with a neatly trimmed beard and glasses, walked into the waiting room.
"Alright dear, but remember to be home by 5." He said with a forced smile, and then continued. "Good luck, son." His eyes were full of fear. Now I was truly worried.
"Bye daddy." She yelled, yanking me out the door.
As soon as we exited the building, she spun me around.
"Thought you got rid of me didn't you?"
She took a intimidating step foward. I backed up towards the brick wall.
"I know you like my muscles. Don't deny it."
She took another step forward. My back hit the wall. Sherry brought her arms up into a mighty flex, her biceps looking bigger than earlier. Her sleeves could barely contain their power. Holding the double bi, she bent over into an awe-inspiring most muscular, flexing so hard she started to shake. Her face went red as veins snaked across her bulging traps, down her neck, and to her pecs which were doing their best to escape the confines of her t-shirt. And then I heard a tearing sound. Not missing a beat, Sherry grabbed both sides of her shirt and ripped it clean in half, throwing it on the ground. She was breathing heavy, a crazed look in her eyes. I felt paralyzed mostly from fear, but I just couldn't control myself. She made the female bodybuilders I had seen look like children. I could feel my face start to warm as my pants started to tent.
"Ha! You're mine now."
She put her arms behind her head, biceps filing any open space, and crunched down. A eight pack of abs exploded outwards. Holding the pose once again, she lowered one arm and planted a long sensual kiss on the now softball sized ball of muscle. Just before I thought I was going to explode in my pants, she reached out and grabbed my belt. Lifting me off the ground with one hand, she held me hovering just above her head. She looked up and gave me an evil smile.
"That's right muscle bitch. Time for some fun."