Forum Saradas
Live chat with female bodybuilders and women with muscle
gfxgfx
 
Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advertising
 
gfx gfx
gfxgfx
 
Welcome to Forum Saradas! Female Bodybuilding, Fitness, Figure & Bikini

Do you love female bodybuilding and events like the Olympia and the Arnold Classic? Are you interested in female bodybuilding, fitness, figure & bikini?
If so check out and join our female bodybuilding forum! Saradas is the oldest and most popular female bodybuilding, fitness forum.

🔥 At Saradas you will find the most amazing and rare pictures of probably every female professional bodybuilder who has ever competed.   
🔥 You can keep up with female bodybuilding news from all over the world and hear the latest on your favorite bodybuilder.
🔥 You will find the latest updates on bodybuilding events like the Olympia and the Arnold Classic.

Saradas is your one stop female bodybuilding resource. Come and join us!

Saradas - The Internet Female Bodybuilding Database
 
gfx gfx
gfx
582971 Posts in 74611 Topics by 30339 Members - Latest Member: DanMeyer June 17, 2024, 01:58:04 am
*
gfx* Home | Help | Login | Register | gfx
gfx
Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
gfx
gfxgfx
 

Author Topic: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered  (Read 21992 times)

Offline GDF-8

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 39
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 22
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« on: April 12, 2022, 04:42:13 am »
Hope all of you are well. I've been working on remastering my story, "A Bodybuilder’s Tale," over at DA (GDF-8). It's nowhere near done yet, but I wanted to post the first few chapters here to get your thoughts and feedback.

I've also commissioned the amazing devmgf to do artwork for each new chapter, which I'll post as well. Enjoy!

********

A Bodybuilder's Tale - Chapter 1
"Accepted"

********

Michelle Williams was not your average 18 year old girl. She was brilliant and well on her way to being crowned the valedictorian of her high school class. Her intoxicating looks didn’t win any fans from the less erudite crowd either. As she stood before her own reflection in the full length mirror, underneath her humble personality, she and everyone else knew she was drop dead gorgeous. With luscious waves of thick brown hair flowing around a set of high cheekbones, full lips, and a sun-kissed complexion, her beauty was a scientific fact. But as her vibrant green eyes admired the whole image, it became clear that it was neither her beauty nor her brains that made her so special.

Standing at a stately 5’10”, her entire body, from neck to ankle, was plastered with exceedingly dense and grotesquely overgrown plates of pure muscle! For the past eight years, she spent countless hours in the gym sculpting herself into the Greek goddess she is today. Despite living in a world where the average woman could outflex some of the biggest men and bench several times their own bodyweight, this mere high school senior was the biggest and strongest girl on campus, in the county, and even the whole damn state! A recent three-hour workout only added icing on this super-stacked beefcake.

NSFW:https://www.turboimagehost.com/p/74535852/dekpnav-2e1b2463-7dca-4ea4-b193-3af2d6484c23.png.html

Anxious to see her gains, Michelle put on a little show for herself. Beginning with an outrageous double biceps pose, her twin peaks rose high, nearly overtaking her own head. Massive piles of shredded muscle overflowed her giant delts, sandwiching her pretty face between huge loaves of girl-meat. Unsatisfied, she milked the flex a few more times, forcing them even higher! Twisting veins flowed up and down those majestic mounds like rivers. Next up, she crossed her arms behind her head, arching her back forward. Huge bricks of cobblestone exploded out from her midsection. Each member of her boulder-crushing 10-pack rose over two inches above her abdominal wall, leaving profound crevices that one could easily lose a few fingers in.

Then, she put her left leg forward, shook her thigh, and flexed. A symphony of quads and hamstrings crescendoed, doubling in size in a matter of seconds. The striations and cuts of her tree trunk thigh plunged ever deeper as billows of flesh erupted from her femur. The many veins that fed this human hydraulic press pulsed with power. Even her calf was monstrous: shaped like a rhino’s heart and every bit as ripped as the rest of her. In totality, a single glance at this incredible sight could have made any man lose himself, and even she was beginning to feel a bit excited.

Still, she saved the best for last. In terms of arms and legs, the small handful of classmates who had serious bodybuilding aspirations could barely mount a serious challenge to Michelle. But when it came time to compare busts, they were left utterly embarrassed. The sheer enormity of her chest eclipsed her peers in ways that often made them feel inadequate. Though, this wasn’t thanks to having big breasts; not in a technical sense, at least. Rather, she sported a massive pair of overdeveloped pectorals, each forming shredded globes of hypervascular skeletal muscle that were completely devoid of any fat!

Arms at her hips, Michelle took in a big breath and prepared herself for her favorite part of any self inspection. At rest, they were already jacked to the size of basketballs. With a cute little grunt, she began to inflate those mighty muscle-tits to even more mind boggling dimensions. They expanded at an alarming rate, her flex injecting more and more mass by the second. Before long, they were the size of beach balls, producing cleavage nearly a foot-and-a-half deep! This, however, was just the start.

After wiping away the sweat, she took every last bit of effort she had left over from her grueling workout and poured it directly into her burgeoning chest. Inch after inch, her non stop flexing pushed her pecs to even greater heights. Parallel trenches of striations etched deeper and deeper into the rockface of those indestructible boulders, their surfaces crisscrossed by a hideous mesh of sausage-thick veins. Her fat, thumb-sized nipples were rock solid now, engorged by the sensual combination of arousal and ever expanding musculature. At this point, it was becoming difficult for her to even see!

This is it. I’m going to break some records today! With that, she closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and gave one final push...

Then, all of a sudden, her bedroom door burst open.

“CONGRATUL- Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! D-did I interrupt you?” The intruder was none other than her mother, Sharon. This wasn’t the first time she had accidentally walked in on one of her daughter’s posing sessions. Though knocking would have saved some embarrassment, she never learned her lesson because it never really bothered either party. Rather, being a former professional bodybuilder herself, she understood. In fact, Sharon was a two-time runner-up in the country’s premier bodybuilding contest: the Miss America! She retired from the sport shortly after giving birth to Michelle and has since been spending all of her time supporting her only child. Even after all these years away from the sport that nearly made her a household name, she still rivals her own, much younger daughter in terms of size. Not to mention, for a woman well over twice her age, she surely didn’t show it. After all, it was from this stunning brunette that Michelle got her good looks.

Briefly taken aback, Michelle quickly rebounded and collected herself. “It’s okay Mom. Just doing some post-workout flexing. What’s up?”

With an excited look, she yelled, “You got in, honey! To the College!”

Michelle’s face instantly shifted gears from slight embarrassment to ecstatic schoolgirl. “Yes! Yes! YES!” she screamed as she bounced up and down, shaking the whole second floor in the process. “The College” was short for the National College of Bodybuilding, widely recognized as the nation’s, perhaps even the world’s, most prestigious bodybuilding institution. More Miss Americas have graduated from the NCB than any other school in the country. As such, only the biggest and brightest young women, from the states and abroad, had any hope of being considered.

“I can’t believe this, Mom! I mean, it was a longshot, but…wow!” She rushed over to her equally elated mother and gave her a warm hug.

“I know! But you definitely deserve it. I mean, look at you!” Her mom examined her daughter’s hulking body from head to toe, smiling with ten parts amazement and one part envy. She’ll be able to do what I never could. “I’m so proud of you. I always knew you’d be Ms. America some day!”

“Please, getting accepted is AMAZING! But…getting to the very top is something else.” As she spoke, she turned her head towards a poster dedicated to the reigning champ: the incomparable Amy Monroe. Amy was performing a mind-shattering full body flex. The sheer size of the muscles she summoned should have been anatomically impossible. Towering biceps peered well over her head, each several times the size of Michelle’s own. Simultaneously, her supermodel face was entirely engulfed by an overwhelming combination of pecs and traps. Her legs were nothing to scoff at either. If Michelle’s thighs were saplings, Amy’s were redwoods. Of course, nothing less should be expected from the three-time Ms. America. Many pundits were already calling her the greatest bodybuilding talent to ever hit the stage. She was Michelle’s inspiration, and in more ways than one.

“We need to make some calls!” Her mother almost seemed like the more excited of the two.

“Wait mom, I’m super pumped!” Michelle checked herself out in the mirror. “Would you mind helping me get some measurements? I’m gunning for a few records!”

“Oh sure, I’d love to!” Sharon pulled out a measuring tape from the drawer and waited for her daughter’s first move.

She started off by producing a prodigious, harder-than-steel bicep. The two draconic heads wrapped around each other in an erotic dance of feminine might. Sharon almost let a gasp escape from her mouth. She hadn’t seen her daughter flex for real in quite a few months. Her growth since then has been, simply put, explosive. After a moment's hesitation, she wrapped the tape around the volcanic mass of muscle and exclaimed, “59 inches!”

“Wait, give me a sec.” Michelle flexed her arm with a little more gusto this time, and she was duly rewarded for her effort. Her bicep creaked just a tad bit higher, stretching the tape measure and threatening to overshadow her own head.

“60”!” Sharon shouted.

“Yes! I’ve finally broken the big six-oh!” She then gestured towards her rippling midsection.

Her mom quickly wrapped the tape around her waist. Michelle sucked in a big breath, causing it to collapse. Mom pulled the tape tight but held a loose grip. Without flexing, her midriff already measured at a nice and thick 30 inches. Then, she let out a sigh of effort as dozens of muscular tectonic plates started to shift underneath her skin. Each abdominal block reached outwards like mesas rising from the earth, their advance surrounded by a supporting cast of smaller, but far more numerous outcroppings of obliques. Inch by inch, the tape was stretched wider.

“Waist is 42 inches! You’re just getting bigger and bigger!”

“Oh yeah? What about my butt?” she asked with a grin.

What about her butt? First of all, it wasn’t hard for Michelle to catch classmates, both guys and girls alike, gawking at her massive tits. While she’d always act stoic, the truth was she loved the attention. And the real truth was, as proud of her pecs as she was, she liked it just as much, maybe even more, when that attention was directed towards her sweet, sweet ass. Sure she dressed to code, but even that wasn’t anywhere near enough. With a little tilt of her pelvis, it quickly became obvious why.

Like trying to smuggle oversized holiday hams in a paper baggy, her skirts simply had no chance at covering the acres of she-beef her hips sported every single day. With a firm clench, her gluteus maximi contracted at first, producing dozens of rippling striations. Seconds later, hundreds of muscle fibers began to quiver and expand as her gorgeous glutes blew up bigger than bowling balls!

Sharon wrapped the tape around her hips, being careful not to lose it in one of the many deep cuts as she crossed the two massive globes of her glutes. “68”! How about your thighs, hun?”

“Sure, mom! I’ll even let you take your pick…” Michelle adopted a wide stance and proceeded to turn her thighs into Roman columns of youthful bodybuilding perfection. Each of her tree trunks exploded with muscle and veins. The quadriceps, abductors, and hamstrings: every muscle group was perfectly defined and absolutely brimming with feminine power. In fact, they were so bloated with intimidating, sinewy girth that her widened stance was the only way to keep them from colliding with one another!

“64 inches!” Mom read.

“Damn, I’m good! That’s like...four inches since the start of the school year!”

Next were her calves. Though they were never her favorite muscles to train (calf raises are so boring), they were nonetheless thicker and stronger than the thighs of even the most dedicated male powerlifters. More importantly, they were enough to please the judges at competitions. Michelle stood on her tippy-toes, causing them to swell into large masses of premium, grade-A girl beef.

“36 inches, hun!”

“Oh, do my back too!” She turned around and produced a classic rear lat spread like she had done hundreds of times on stage, flexing every back muscle she could think of along the way. Her back came alive as hundreds of thick cords of sinew sprang to prominence. The multitude of veins and separations produced a stunning roadmap of physical perfection. At full stretch, her epic lats gave her an ungodly wingspan well over three feet across!

“Gosh, you are an albatross! 85” on the lats! Now I think it’s time for your favorite part.” Sharon’s voice had a hint of sultry anticipation as she slipped the tape around her daughter’s chest, just above the hard nipples that stood proudly upon those gargantuan pecs. Michelle gave her mom a triumphant smile and, with a sexy little grunt, proceeded to grow her already over-inflated muscle-tits. The crackling sound of soft skin being stretched to its limit filled the room as those jacked-up, wrecking ball pecs ballooned with frightening, man-shaming, competition-crushing mass! As she was still pumped from the flex session that took place just prior, it didn’t take long for them to reach their peak.

“118 inches! Keep going!”

Once again, beach ball-sized pecs hung over her abs, threatening to rob her eyes of her own monstrously voluptuous reflection. But Michelle didn’t need a mirror to tell her that she was the prettiest and most muscular of them all. She mustered the remainder of her strength and gave her pecs one last almighty push. Sharon’s mouth went dry as she watched her daughter’s chest burst with a musty wave of flesh and vascularity, stretching the tape measure to its limit.

“1…” she fumbled over her words as she read the number. “125”!”

Michelle was practically panting, her massive chest rising and falling with each breath. Her mouthwatering three inch-plus nipples were erect from exertion and excitement. Now, her pectorals alone had nearly as much muscle mass as a heavyweight male bodybuilder had in his entire body! She smiled to herself, ecstatic over her achievements. Three inches in just a couple months…

For a moment, Sharon was quiet. It seemed like just yesterday when Michelle had picked up her first dumbbell. Now she was flexing up muscles she didn’t think a teenager could even produce. The sight brought back memories of when millions of devotees used to fawn over her own magnificent body. That time, unfortunately, had come and gone. Her wonderful daughter had taken the torch out of her hands and gone ahead without her.

At last, her mother broke the awkward silence. “You. Are. Incredible!” she gushed with pride. “What did the scale say?”

The stacked young brunette smiled from ear to ear and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Without a word, she pulled up the most recent picture.

It was a photo taken just 30 minutes ago of her digital scale as she stood on top of it. “545 lbs.,” it read on the interface just in front of her feet.

This was all the confirmation Sharon needed. “Michelle, that’s…” her voice drifted off. “I don’t even know what to say!” Michelle was, without a doubt, bigger and more massive than she was at her age. It was her show now. “We need to celebrate! For your acceptance and for your new records!”

“What should we do?”

“I’ve got just the idea... What do you think about a cruise?”

Michelle’s face lit up. “That’s a great idea, mom! Can I bring my friends too? Oh, and Dan! I need to tell Dan!”

“Friends? Sure!” Then, Mom shook her head, “But Daniel is going to have to catch the next boat.”

Daniel and Michelle had been good friends for as long as either could remember. They grew up together and went to the same schools. But for the past two years, they had become much more than just friends. The two were madly in love (or at least as much “love” as a pair of brash teens could be in, anyway) and had entered into a steady relationship. He was a caring gentleman with a true romantic soul, and he always treated her right. Then again, it’s hard not to when your girlfriend is a sexy muscle goddess that could crush any man in an instant. That’s not to say Dan wasn’t quite the catch himself. Tall, smart, athletic, and handsome, there were a number of reasons why her mom said “no.”

“Please, please, pleeeeease? I deserve this!” she begged. “Plus, you’re gonna be riding with us. It’s not like we can do anything with you there anyway.”

“Excuse me?! And what exactly have you two been ‘doing’ when I’m not around?”

“Mom! You know what I mean!”

“...fine,” she relented. “I guess if I could raise you by myself for 18 years, I can keep the two of you in check for a few days.”

“Yes!!! Thank you so much Mom! He’s going to be so happy!” In a rush, Michelle grabbed her baggiest shirt, struggling to fit her still pumped biceps through the sleeves. With difficulty, she succeeded. Unfortunately, as she tried to bring the shirt down to her waist, the familiar sound of tearing fabric could be heard. Already strained by some overdeveloped mammaries, her erect nipples cut through the shirt like hot knives through butter.

Her mom chuckled, “We’re going to have to get you some bigger clothes, aren’t we?”

“Ha-ha, mom,” she responded dryly, carefully putting on a more elastic tank top and a pair of short shorts. “Oh wait, I have to get a picture of that letter!”

“Alright honey, I’ll go get us some reservations for somewhere nice tonight!”

After her mom left the room, she carefully aligned her smartphone’s camera with that golden ticket. Excited to let the world know, she uploaded the picture to Snapbook with the caption “ONE STEP CLOSER TO THE TOP!!!” Within seconds, hundreds of her 825k followers “liked” the pic. As it continued to generate hype, she scrolled through some of her other recent posts. There was a healthy mix of candid shots, sexy photoshoots, and promotions for exercise supplements. Each one had thousands upon thousands of likes and hundreds of comments: “I love you!” “Shit, your biceps are HUGE!” “Please be my waifu!” She, and probably every other bodybuilder in the world, loved getting showered with this kind of adoration. At times, it could be as motivating as seeing her own body surpass old benchmarks. Each semi-anonymous sentiment of positivity fed her young ego like protein fed her muscles.

After scrolling through a few more photos, she was satisfied and closed the browser. With the gravity of it all starting to sink in, she glanced around her room.

“It’s all coming together…” she smiled, inspecting the litany of trophies and medals that decorated an entire wall. For years, she had accrued accolade after accolade at the local and state level: just desserts for her borderline psychopathic dedication towards bodybuilding. Now she was on her way towards something even greater.

She took another look at the letter. Without even reading it, one could tell it was a message of real importance. The paper was thick, yet pliable; its color an off-white like eggshell. The Romalian type gave the words a cold, strictly-business feel: “...we are formally extending an offer to join our program.” To her, it was abundantly clear what that meant. Being accepted was confirmation that she was indeed one of the nation’s top bodybuilding prospects. After all, the National College of Bodybuilding wasn’t just an ordinary school. It was a vaunted institution for the development of mind and body and the alma mater of some of the greatest athletes of all time. Placing the letter back in the envelope, she promised herself that, one day, her name would be immortal within its halls.

*******

Still giddy from the good news, Sharon rushed into the master bedroom and picked up her cell. Hurriedly, she dialed the number for her daughter’s favorite and notoriously overbooked restaurant, Dorsia, to see if she could still snag a couple of seats for tonight.

“Hi, yes I’d like to make a reservation for two at 7 p.m.?”

“Two at seven… Yes we have seats. May I have your name please?”

“Sharon.”

There was a brief pause. “...Ah, Ms. Williams, how are you?” the receptionist continued excitedly.

“I’m doing well, Jean. We’re celebrating my daughter’s college acceptance!”

“Oh, fantastic! We’d love to make this an unforgettable night for you two. Obviously, it will be on the house and I’ll be sure to-”

“Jean, stop, you know we have no problem paying!”

“Ms. Williams, please. It is our privilege to have you dine with us. After all, we still have some of your competition photos up!”

“And how many times have I told you guys to take them down? They’re so gaudy!”

“Nonsense, Ms. Williams. They’re a testament to your celebrity! Anyway, we’ll see you tonight?”

“You shall.”

“Excellent. Ciao!”

Perfect. A lovely dinner to treat her deserving daughter. She sighed, slowly realizing just how surreal this was. All those years ago, she gave up her greatest dreams and ambitions in order to have a child. And now, that child was well on her way to becoming a professional bodybuilder herself. Pushed by the pangs of nostalgia, she reached for an album tucked away on her bookshelf. It contained an extensive collage of old photos from the time when she was once a Ms. America contender.

“Gosh, I was big back then,” she whispered, reminiscing of the days in which a mere flex could send any man to the moon and back. While she certainly was no Amy Monroe, at her peak she could have held her own against the top competitors of today. After all, two years of being runner-up in a country brimming with as much talent as the United States was an incredible accomplishment in itself. Yet, it was equally a painful blow. As great as it may have been to earn millions in prize money and sponsorships, to have fans at home and abroad sing your praise, it couldn’t change the fact that she lost. Twice. Even now, she couldn’t help but wish to have another shot at the title and to have the honor of saying she was once the best of the best. Now, that pressure was on Michelle. She would have to carry the burden that all pros carry: that insatiable urge to win. To be bigger and stronger than the competition. To climb that summit and hope one day to be alone at the top.

As she continued to sift through the photos, something fell into her lap. It was a small scrap of paper with the letter “R” and a phone number written on it. She smiled but ultimately tucked the scrap back into the album. Then, after musing for a moment, she let out an almost disappointed sigh and shook her head. Picking up her phone, she dialed the number.

After a few rings, someone picked up. “Hello?” It was the voice of a middle-aged man.



“...Hello?” he repeated.

“Hey,” she finally spoke.

...

“…Sharon?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I-uh…I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d hear from you ever again.”

“Well, I guess I just…” she paused, lying down on the bed. “...I’ve missed you.”

“Oh…” there was uncertainty in his voice.

...

“I...I’ve missed you too,” he eventually answered.

Sharon smiled. “Listen, are you free during spring break?”
GDF-8 @ DA

K+ if you liked the story!

Offline Wookey

  • Full Member
  • ***
  • Posts: 609
  • Activity:
    13.33%
  • KARMA: 152
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #1 on: April 12, 2022, 06:28:14 am »
Loving this story

Offline jhunter

  • Full Member
  • ***
  • Posts: 722
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 181
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #2 on: April 13, 2022, 01:32:21 am »
Nice update, good flow. Hope to see more.

Offline 1dave100

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 56
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 12
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #3 on: April 13, 2022, 07:30:48 am »
Good start. Can’t  wait to see what happens next.

Offline rodman

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 104
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 5
  • Gender: Male
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #4 on: April 13, 2022, 01:56:31 pm »
Great story and artwork! Love it. Please continue to write more!👍

Offline GDF-8

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 39
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 22
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #5 on: April 15, 2022, 03:44:05 am »
A Bodybuilder's Tale - Chapter 2
"Showstealer"

********
Michelle and her mom pulled up to the port parking lot in their oversized SUV. They had both decided that the only appropriate way to celebrate her extraordinary accomplishments was by enjoying a spring break cruise to the Bahamas. Sharon was even gracious enough to pay the fare for her daughter’s besties, as well as her boyfriend Daniel so that they could all join in on the four day adventure. The only catch was this: she would play the part of chaperone.
 
“Mom, I love you and all, but please don’t embarrass me on this trip, okay?”
 
“My only job is to make sure you don’t embarrass yourself,” she fired back.
 
“And when have I ever done that?”
 
“Oh?” Sharon was all smug now. “Well, remember when you were in middle school, and the teacher had to-“

“Fine, besides that time.”

“And what about when we went to the fair with your uncle and you-“

“Okay, okay! You win…” Michelle relented as she got up from the XL passenger seat, the taxed vehicle groaning in relief as hundreds of pounds of pure muscle mass exited onto the asphalt. “I promise I’ll behave.”

After grabbing their luggage from the trunk, mother and daughter left to meet their travel companions. Michelle’s entourage was early and had assembled ahead by the entrance. Each member was either a long-time classmate or neighbor, and they were among the select few people in her life she could call true friends. She knew she could always count on them in a pinch, and they in turn could expect the same from her.

Michelle waved at the group before running ahead to greet them. On the left was Shayna, a junior who was her school’s undisputed track superstar. Her statuesque figure was supported by a pair of very long and very muscular legs. While they weren’t quite as bulky as Michelle’s, those legs could run the 200-metre in a blistering, state record-holding 9.50 seconds! To her right was the equally athletically-gifted Francesca. The tallest of the lot at an impressive 6’5”, she regularly used her height advantage to bully opponents in her sport of choice: basketball. Again, though her bodybuilding-inclined classmate had her well beaten for size, she had more than enough strength and speed to zip past defenders and dunk from the 3-point line!

Completing the girls of the group was the much more diminutive and unassuming, Yumi. Though she was born in Japan, she had spent her entire school life here in the States. She was by far the most slender of the bunch, with only a small amount of muscle and tone throughout. Yes, she could arm wrestle some of the less athletic guys and probably win (not that she would ever agree to such a thing), but for a teenage girl, she was rather underdeveloped by modern standards. You could blame her borderline unhealthy obsession with computers and tech for that. Though, having a top-end physique didn’t matter to her. She was an out-and-out genius who had been accepted a year early to the country’s most prestigious university, Norman College, and on a full scholarship no less.

Last, and certainly not least, there was Daniel. While not as built as the future Olympians or as intimidatingly brilliant as Yumi, there was no doubting he was quite the prize himself. His athletic build was sculpted around a 6’3” frame, upon which stood a very handsome face with deep blue eyes. Judging by his looks alone, you would’ve been forgiven to mistake him for a male model rather than a high school kid. On top of that, he was an A-student and captain of his school’s rugby team. It is, then, rather obvious why he and his hulking beast of a girlfriend were named prom king and queen this year.

Michelle exchanged warm hugs with each of them, receiving some well-deserved “congratulations” in the process, as well as a kiss on the lips from Dan. Mom was quick to break that up. Not long later, the would-be passengers headed up the ramp and set sail for what should be a memorable vacation.

Of course, the festivities couldn’t begin just yet. The first order of business was to see where they would be rooming. The William’s had booked themselves an impressive two-bed suite, fully equipped with a flat-screen, surround-sound entertainment center, a minibar, and a jacuzzi!

“Holy sh—oot, mom! This room is nicer than our house!” Michelle exclaimed, astonished by the luxurious setup.

“And one day, you’ll be able to afford a house nicer than this room!”

“Gosh I hope so. The bed at home is getting a bit too small for me!”

After getting settled in and unpacked, Michelle deftly grabbed a teeny-weeny red bikini that pushed the limits of decency from her suitcase and dashed to the bathroom to change. She then threw on top a loose fitting t-shirt and shorts in order to conceal her all too skimpy undergarments.

“Alright mom, I’m gonna go see what my friends are up to!” Michelle bolted out of the room so as to avoid any possibility of being chastised for her dress code violation.

“Don’t forget to…” her mom turned around only to find an empty room and a wide-open door. “Aaand, she’s gone.”

Going door-to-door, Michelle herded her companions together. It was time to get spring break underway!

Back when they were standing on the docks, it was easy to see that this state-of-the-art cruise liner was humongous. Once on board, however, that description somehow seemed understated! Not only was it vast, but everything about it screamed peak 21st century living. There was a litany of activities to participate in, from a handful of pools, climbing walls, casinos, and more, as well as restaurants to satiate any palette. Not to mention, at the heart was an indoor mall so expansive that even the most dedicated of shopaholics could get lost in. It was a floating city in every sense.

“Good god, how does this thing stay afloat? I could live here!” Francesca exclaimed, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“I mean, isn’t that what we’re doing?” Yumi prodded.

“Oh, stop being such a smartass...”

As the high schoolers explored some of the amenities on offer, Shayna let out an excited gasp. “Looks like I found where we’ll be for the next couple hours,” she whispered, pointing to a set of neon signs that read “21+ ONLY”. From the looks of the snaking line of collegiate and midlife crisis types and the muffled sound of synth and bass, it had all the trappings of an indoor bar/nightclub. While the idea of getting wasted in the dark at 4:30 p.m. might be nonsensical to some, this was exactly the sort of place a bunch of brash teens could only dream of infiltrating.

Michelle took out her fake ID and replied, “Then it’s a good thing we brought these!”

Yumi, however, wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as the others. “Ugh, you guys really wanna go there?

“Yumi, you’re the one who made these IDs for us...”

“Yeah, well, that’s because I love and trust you guys! But… the sun hasn’t even set yet, and…” she sighed, “You know how I feel about being around big groups of dum-dums!”

Michelle patted her head gently, “It’ll just be for a few minutes, okay? We’ll grab one round, and then we’ll peace out!”

Yumi pouted, “...fine. But you guys are buying!”

The underaged posse walked over to the entrance. After a short wait, they each flashed their “IDs” to the bouncer, who was more concerned with checking out Michelle’s ripped abs than scrutinizing the watermarks. Once inside, they were immediately greeted by the sound of house music and the pungent odor of mixed drinks. Though the club looked a lot bigger on the inside, it was still nearly full to capacity. At the center of it all was a fairly robust stage on which a DJ was busy cranking out tunes.

Dan shouted over the deafening bass, “C’mon, let’s get some drinks!” before taking Michelle’s hand and leading her towards the bar. As the adolescents put in their orders, the DJ made an announcement.

“Alright everybody, I want to thank all of you guys and gals for coming out here today. I know you’re all busy trying to make this a cruise to remember… or not. So without further ado, let’s start things off right with a BIKINI CONTEST!”

The place went wild! The DJ continued, “That’s right, any of you sexy ladies out there can participate! Just come around behind the stage and we can get you all set up. Oh, and first place gets 20 drink vouchers on the house!”

Hearing this, everyone in Michelle’s party stared directly at her. Though Shayna and Francesca had their own respectable assets to flaunt, neither held a candle to Michelle. Hell, she alone probably had more muscle than the rest of her friends combined! That sensational physique had been more than enough to sweep just about every high school bodybuilding competition she had ever entered. In theory, this should be much easier: a contest against a presumably unprepared and untrained general populace. Plus, the “judges” this time weren’t dissecting the symmetry of her poses or the conditioning of her quads. Instead, it was a half-drunk mob whose only wish was to see some beautiful women show off the good stuff. As long as there weren’t any physique or bodybuilding competitors, Michelle’s muscles should be more than enough to win them over.

Without saying a word, the circle continued to stare for several seconds. Eventually, she noticed their silence and glanced up from her drink with a quizzical face. “What? Why are you guys all looking at me?”

Francesca was the first to break the silence. “Are you kidding me? This is all you, girl!”

“Yeah, Michelle, go up there and show those skinny bitches what’s up!” Shayna egged on.

“Hey, I’m standing right here!”

“I said skinny bitches, Yumi. You’re not a bitch!”

“Whoa, slow down girls!” Dan protested. “I don’t think this is a good idea...” The thought of his girlfriend posing in front of that lecherous crowd made his stomach turn. As rock-solid as their relationship might have been, it was still somewhat lopsided. Being a gorgeous young lady with the frame of a future bodybuilding queen meant that, realistically, Michelle could have any guy she wanted at any time. It was this simple truth that, along with his genuine feelings for her, made him work hard at being the best boyfriend he could be. He also had immense trust in Michelle, knowing that she wasn’t the kind of person to change relationships like clothing. Nevertheless, those reassurances could only do so much to alleviate that ever nagging worry of her leaving for greener pastures.

“Oh c’mon, don’t keep her all to yourself!” the girls persisted. “Yeah, she needs to spread her wings like a totally jacked butterfly!”

Michelle thought it over for a few seconds. “Mom would kill me if she ever found out.”

“But…?” the group, sans Dan, asked in unison.

Looking at the ladies making their way backstage, Michelle couldn’t pick out a single participant who could reasonably challenge her. This wasn’t too surprising: only a small percentage of women had both the genetics and dedication to build that kind of body. This might be the perfect opportunity to show off her recent gains and snag an easy win. Plus, there was surely no way her mom had any idea she was here, right?

“Buuut… I may as well get in some more practice before competition season starts!” She turned to Dan, “Babe, you’ll support me, right?” Michelle put on that sexy pouty face that he knew all too well. Her eyes melted his heart, and her muscles, well… they did something else.

*sigh* “Fine… I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’ll do my best to keep those thirsty guys and girls off of you, yeah?”

Michelle smiled, “I won’t let you down!” She gave him a peck on the cheek and stripped off her shirt and shorts, revealing the vast ocean of musculature underneath. Making her way towards the stage, the crowd parted before her, awestricken by the absolute unit of a woman that was among them.

“You are so whipped,” her friends teased.

“Yeah…” Dan stared at Michelle’s near-naked body as it slowly disappeared behind the sea of people. “But it’s totally worth it!”

Michelle stood at the end of the line with the rest of the girls. With seemingly no one else coming up behind her, she checked out the backsides of the dozen or so women in front. “Not bad,” she thought. There was a mixed bag here: some were busty, some had great butts, and some were delusional. Most were in their mid-twenties or early-thirties, and with a little more training and conditioning, Michelle judged a few could probably make a splash at the fitness level. At the very least, any of these women could manhandle their counterparts of the opposite sex without much difficulty. Then again, that didn’t matter much here: this exquisite teenage beauty was a class above them all.

One of the stagehands led the sexy conga line towards stage left and gave each contestant a number to pin to their bikinis. Then, one by one, the DJ called them up.

“Alright ladies, it’s showtime! May we have our first contestant please?”

From backstage, Michelle could hear the sound of wolf-whistles among other unintelligible cries of approval. Number 1 was young, maybe a college student, and a very pretty one at that. Though she didn’t sport the body of someone who competed, she definitely kept in shape. Clothed in a black bikini that was appropriately small for this kind of activity, her lithe frame and sumptuous curves were plain for all to see. The rippling muscles of her midsection helped accentuate her endlessly-long legs. She stood proudly with her chest puffed out, revealing thick pectorals that could have shamed any male bodybuilder. She flaunted her figure with a few more sexy poses and turns, and the club responded with cheers once she left.

One by one, the contestants made their way onto and off the stage, each as lovely as the last. All the same, none truly stood a ghost of a chance against the mighty Michelle. If they had all gone out there at once, that conclusion would have been indisputable. After all, nothing in the world drove men or women as crazy as big, fucking, muscles.

Even so, as her call approached, the teenager couldn’t help the intrusive encroachment of anxiety. She had been on stage plenty of times in the past, winning over many an audience with her unbeatable blend of hyper-conditioned muscle mass and model-esque looks. This, however, wasn’t quite the same. An impromptu bikini contest in a nightclub open way too early was inevitably a far more alien environment than a American Bodybuilding Association-sanctioned event. While her competition was rather lacking, this wasn’t a crowd full of supportive friends and family fronted by a cast of experienced judges. What sprawled from the edge of that stage was a shark tank of ogling strangers that wanted nothing more than some eye candy to save for later. Maybe this was a mistake.

Relax, she told herself as she tried to restrain some hyperactive nerves. None of these girls can compete with me. I just have to get out there and be confident! Gosh, I’ve done this a million times, why am I so-

Suddenly, her train of thought was interrupted by the thud of heavy footsteps from behind. Before she could turn around, the screech of microphone feedback sliced through the air.

“Sorry about that! We’re almost done here folks, and boy, is this contest a close one! Number 14, show us whatcha got!”

With one last deep breath, she climbed up the steps, pushed past the curtains, and stepped onstage. Instantly, she was blasted by a faceful of blinding spotlights and an earful of overplayed music bolstered by screams, cheers, and whistles. The club was already going nuts for her.

In spite of the sensory overload, her eight years of training kicked in immediately, and she did the only thing she knew how to: flex. Michelle recalled her routines of the past and put on a show she was sure they would never forget. With the help of her arms, legs, as well as her prodigious chest, she exerted an unquestionable aura of dominance over the other ladies. She was, simply put, out of their league. Every twitch of her hulking mass, every pulse of her sausage-thick veins, and every injection of shredded, grade-A beef into her swollen muscles drew more and more decibels from her admirers. The feel of her own steaming hot, diamond-hard body as her skin was stretched taut, flesh fighting for finite space, in harmony with the horde’s audible and ever-growing approval, amped her ego and desire to eleven.

Gosh, they are loving this!

“Lusting” was the more accurate word. As popular and frequented as bodybuilding contests were these days, to have some young hotrod of a muscle monster flex it up on a club stage, her body barely contained by some tiny strips of cloth, was thrilling nonetheless. Guys and girls alike, disinhibited by the free-flowing alcohol, raved as her monolithic biceps grew ever upwards. Her boulder shoulders pressed up against her cheeks and ears, yet still she could hear their lust. They could barely believe just how freaking wide this chick was as she spread her glorious lats to their absolute maximum, marveling at the sublime architecture of her muscle-carved back. That supreme figure was, as always, supported by two grandiose columns. She flexed both legs as she did her arms, curling each individually and causing fresh slabs of meat to pile high. Her thighs and calves crashed into one another like industrial steel cutters ready to cleave anything in their way.

Of course, the pièce-de-résistance was left for last. The instant she began inflating her already overstuffed, all-muscle boobs, the club erupted. Their tangible excitement only drove her to inject more volume into her chest, forcing two jacked-up tsunami waves of tit flesh closer and closer towards an all too willing lot. Those two massive globes of peak feminine conditioning stood proudly as the exclamation point on this standard, yet highly stimulating, routine. All pumped up, she was now covered from head-to-toe in hundreds of pounds of woman-shaming girl-beef. Her overwhelming power and total command of her subjects was really ramping up her own libido, as evidenced by a pair of rock-hard nipples stretching the tiny top to its limit. She had flexed up a storm, and yet, not a single set of eyes had seen enough.

The DJ was as entranced as the others, having to pause for a moment to collect himself. Once he did, he passionately declared, “Did I say the race was close? Guess I spoke too soon!”

Michelle’s smile was almost as wide as her lats; the contest was hers! As if to signal her own victory, she placed one hand on her hip, and pointed the other up towards the ceiling. Her gesture was excitedly received by a thunderous roar.

“Hey hey, calm down!” The DJ tried to get things back under control. “Let’s not be rude now. You can have an encore once we’re done! We still have one more contestant!”

Michelle’s smile disappeared. Wait, what? Wasn’t I the last one?

“Finally, number 15, come on down!”

Her look of mild bewilderment quickly turned into unadulterated horror as the true final contestant stepped forward. Holy shit…

Shock was the only appropriate reaction here. First off, this girl was unbelievably gorgeous and didn’t look a day over 18. Making matters worse, she was alarmingly massive! While her upper half was wrapped in a black XXL track jacket that was somehow still a few sizes too small, her baby blue bikini bottom left her muscle-stuffed legs totally bare.

Flabbergasted, her mind raced: Who the hell is that? How did I not see her?! Paralyzed by confusion, she stood frozen for several awkward seconds. The DJ rushed over and forcefully tugged Michelle’s ham-hock of a forearm, which did not budge, and told her to go backstage. Mouth agape, she eventually complied and trudged off stage right in a trance. Instead of joining up with the rest of the girls, she stayed behind on the steps, peering past the curtains to witness this mystery girl’s performance.

Number 15 was blessed with a fair complexion, a small button nose, a few faint freckles, and bright blue eyes that glowed like gems. Those stunning facial features were framed by an adorable and well-trimmed set of bangs, making the young vixen look even younger, and further augmented by a long, flowing ponytail of red hair that shimmered in a dazzling crimson wave. If looks could kill, she would have life in prison.

Fueling Michelle’s fears was, obviously, her size. Despite appearing an inch or so shorter, it was clear from the sheer bulk of her thighs and calves, as well as the exceedingly tight fit of that overmatched jacket, that she might be just as built! If she indeed was as young as she looked, there was no doubt this girl would be challenging for a national title one day. Yet, there was something else about her that was far more frightening.

As the blazing hot redhead walked, or rather sauntered, towards center stage, she did so with an aura of confidence and sexual energy that turned the whole room into a sauna. Without firing a single pose, the sway of her hips and the arrogant look on her annoyingly immaculate face held the entire audience in the palm of her hands. They were hanging on her every move, and Michelle too couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation.

Backed by a thumping bass line, she flashed a sexy smile and lay both hands on top of her chest. Even with her arms and torso still fully-clothed, that skin-tight fit failed to conceal the voluptuous, X-rated contours of her luscious body. She traced her slender fingers down her sides, passing her gyrating, muscle-plated abdomen, and landing on a set of wide, womanly hips. She gave the strings of her bikini a couple of light, teasing tugs, goding deafening cheers from the rabid onlookers.

She wagged a finger at them, feigning disapproval. Then, she slowly turned around and tilted her pelvis so that they could all get a good hard look at her perfect butt. And goodness gracious, was it perfect. Bigger than bowling balls, her glutes were bulbous and so masterfully crafted that they looked like they should belong in a museum dedicated to Renaissance sculptures rather than on display at some seedy hangout. Eyes still facing the audience, she placed one hand over her mouth, miming a facetiously shocked expression, while her other explored the soft, velvety skin of that scrumptious ass.

A couple of hearty smacks to that indestructible behind cranked the club’s volume several notches higher. She then dipped her head and torso down, letting both hands run over the thick cables of her hamstrings and toward a pair of outrageously beefed-up calves. She grabbed her ankles and surveyed the crowd upside down: everybody was going buck wild, and she was just getting started!

She whipped her head back up, ribbons of crimson hair fanning gracefully across her top as she arched her back in a delightfully sensual pose. Hands at her side now, she swung her hips back and forth like a metronome, hypnotizing her congregation. That divinely erotic sight seemed to hush the room as half the audience became lost in a daze. The sonic reprieve lasted only a moment though as she followed up by giving everyone a proverbial smack to the head, rudely awaking them with an eye-popping flex of her lower half!

Michelle gasped as every muscle from the redhead’s waist down quite literally exploded. Vein wrapped cuts of muscle-meat burst to life in the most salacious way imaginable. Swathes of sinew studded the surface of her shredded glutes, her flex eliciting deep horizontal striations between delectable, burly hunks of she-beef as they blew up to the size of medicine balls! That alone should have been enough to make a few hearts stop. In fact, Michelle could have sworn some of the screams coming from her army of fanatical worshipers were of more than just emotional excitement.

The carnage below was no less enticing. Writhing anacondas of muscle fibers billowed outwards, warping her hammies into an obscene mass of flesh and blood. The back of her knee was practically swallowed by the invading musculature of her thighs and the monstrous calves beneath. While the others had the good fortune of seeing her backside straight on, Michelle had an equally enviable view from behind the curtain. From there, she could make out the breathtaking chevrons that formed from the intersection of her sartorius and adductor muscles, which tapered beautifully into the four-headed behemoths that were her quadriceps.

While all eyes were rightfully distracted by her load-blowing legs, she placed one hand on her front zipper, the other on her collar, and slowly undid the jacket. As she did, she stared at the sliver between the backstage curtains and right into Michelle’s wide, emerald-green eyes. The brunette, however, was far too bewitched to realize her peep show had been compromised. Her vision was firmly tunneled onto that zipper as it painstakingly made its way down. In doing so, she was able to preview the redhead’s spectacular upper body, catching glimpses of the exceptionally well-defined and vein-encrusted muscles of her chest and abs. The matching blue bikini top hidden underneath did little to obscure that view. When the jacket was finally undone, Number 15 shot her the slyest of grins and winked.

In one smooth motion, she whipped off the jacket, tossed it onto the hardwood, and turned back around to face her hysterical flock. Michelle almost had to cover her own ears as that grand reveal amped the din to dangerous levels. Indeed, the sum of all her fears was fully realized: this girl was every bit as big, every bit as muscular, and despite lacking any hint of sun, every bit as shredded! That little striptease had worked the whole place into a feeding frenzy. Now, it was time for her to give them what they really wanted.

Cheered on by what could only be described as a cult of personality, this superbly graceful girl began a posing routine that would not be out of place in a bodybuilding competition and seemed to mirror her predecessor’s own performance. Unfortunately for Michelle, any remaining memories of her the patrons might have had were completely wiped away once this young bodybuilding idol showed them her true potential.

The redhead kicked things off with a tremendous double bicep flex. Her jacked-as-fuck arms blasted off, quickly expanding past wrist-level with eye-gouging levels of brawn. The two demonic heads of her biceps wrestled each other for dominance in an erotic display of girl power. As those colossal guns framed her supermodel face, she bit her lower lip and gave the club a spine-tingling “I know you want me” look. Judging by the roaring cacophony, she was right on the money.

She then planted her arms behind her head and turned her attention towards that mighty midsection. Her hips once again swayed with hypnotic flow as she showed off a deliciously sexy belly dance. In a mesmerizing demonstration of muscle control, she made the dynamic masonry of her abs undulate as if they were waves atop the ocean. With each pass, the separations between the individual heads of that 10-pack grew deeper and deeper. Next, she cupped the underside of her muscle-packed “breasts” and proceeded to bounce them up and down. Each pulse inflated them like air into balloons, forcing them bigger and bigger with every seductive pump. The skimpy top that was already strained from the getgo could barely contain her areolas now!



Feeling the staggering sexual energy permeating the full house, she decided it was time for the finale. With another sexy wink, she lifted both arms, pushed one leg forward, and went into a heart-stopping full-body flex! To Michelle’s chagrin, it seemed as if this girl was holding back until just now. The thunderous crackle of ultra-fast muscular expansion temporarily eclipsed the combined hype of the entire club! Twin biceps lurched skyward, her craggy peaks nearly surpassing the top of her head. Despite lacking Michelle’s tan, with her skin stretched paper thin, the redhead’s cuts and veins were just as, if not more, well defined than her own.

As she continued to push her muscles to the max, her pretty face soon disappeared behind a wall of pure tit-muscle. Maybe she didn’t quite have Michelle beat on that front (thank goodness), but certainly nobody was complaining about this she-beast and her 18 inch cleavage. Those fucktastic beachballs of beef were absolutely riddled with ludicrous levels of vasculature, thick bluish veins crawling underneath their hyper-striated surface. Her monumental mammaries were flanked by a proportionately monstrous set of delts, lats, and triceps, which only further engulfed her head and made this top-heavy hourglass wider, and wider, and wider!

Michelle could only watch helplessly as the fiery damsel erupted into a full-blown goddess. Her own breathing began to quicken as this embodiment of pure perfection overwhelmed the senses. The view of her back was awe-inspiring: saturated with muscle, it twisted into a hellish landscape replete with vast plateaus of sinew, each clashing with the others in a violent, tectonic melee. She gulped as her eyes traced the roadmap of veins down towards that exquisite ass, those mommy-shaming hips flaring out to accommodate the added brawn being loaded onto that dump truck. She caught herself before her trembling fingers could reach down into her own moistened nethers, cheeks burning as they turned the same shade as her competitor’s hair.

After holding that incredible pose for a few seconds, and what seemed to be an eternity to Michelle, she relaxed. For a brief moment, those gigantic muscles shrank to a more manageable size. But as her pecs receded, a malicious smile was unearthed. For as much mental damage as she had already inflicted, the crimson maiden wasn’t done quite yet. Taking a deep breath, she launched one final gargantuan mega-flex! Moaning out of exertion and arousal, the sickening sound of skin being stretched taught by profanely pumped muscle-meat filled the air once again as her body burst outward one last time! Reaching the apex, her top suddenly snapped and fell onto the stage, the combination of her stacked pecs and long pink cock-sized nips proving to be too much.

That slut! Michelle couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Number 15’s chest was now fully exposed. She was utterly naked but for the teeny thong that had long been swallowed up by her buns and thighs. Yet, she did not mind one bit. For a second, the place was stunned into silence, traumatized by the breathtaking power this young girl had just summoned. Then, hysteria. Cheering, yelling, screaming, and shouting, the listless masses had their mind’s blown into next Tuesday. Michelle couldn’t even hear her own thoughts.

The DJ himself, along with plenty of others, had blown his load. Fortunately, the club was too loud and chaotic for anyone to notice. The podium hid the mess in his pants as he struggled to collect himself. When he finally regained some shred of his composure, he shakily declared, “I… I th-think we have a winner!”

And with that, Number 15 released her flex. She bowed, revealing pornographic levels of cleavage, before blowing the crowd a provocative kiss. The DJ called for an assistant to bring her prize: a full deck of drink vouchers, as well as a bouquet of roses.

Alcohol spilled onto the stage as this rampant army of devotees celebrated with her. Completely unfazed by the fact that she was still topless, she tossed the flowers into the crowd, sending the entire stack of vouchers raining down with it. Like starving piranhas, the patrons fought desperately for those gifts bestowed upon them by their goddess.

Having had enough of her showboating, Michelle turned away in a huff, her heart wracked by an unfamiliar combination of defeat and envy. She had been so sure of herself at first. This wasn’t to be a narrow win for her; what was supposed to happen was a crushing victory. Instead, it all came tumbling down the instant that mystery girl stepped onstage.

Fuck this. She shook her head. This was no ordinary loss. She was downright embarrassed. Never before has she been so undeniably outclassed. It wasn’t her size that bothered her; they were about equal on that front. Plus, as a frequenter of both state and national competitions, this wasn’t the first time she had encountered someone that rivaled her own muscularity. Rather, it was the fact that this red-haired titaness boasted an X-factor that she had no hope of matching. It was the way she glided across the stage, how her hips swayed so smoothly, and used her flirty expressions to drive people up the wall. It all flowed like water. She had the body of a future Miss America and the tantalizing aura of an exotic dancer. She made everyone get on their knees to beg for more, and then, she gave it to them.

At this point, she needed to leave this dump and clear her head. But before she could turn the corner of the stage, she felt a firm grip on her shoulder.

“Hey!” a gentle voice called out. Michelle turned around to see the sparkling blue eyes of the triumphant young beauty. Still pumped from her shameless show of force, her jacket could only be zipped up as far as the bottom of her overflowing bust. “You were amazing up there!”

The stunned brunette couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not. In either case, she was far too flustered to eke out anything more than, “Oh, uh… thanks?”

“Seriously, you are soooo friggin’ built!” She spoke sweetly, sounding more akin to an innocent girl next door than the all-conquering sex goddess that she was on stage. “You’re totally going into bodybuilding, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” Michelle struggled to muster even a modicum of enthusiasm.

“Me too!”

No shit.

“Heather Greene,” she extended a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

With some reluctance, she shook. “Michelle Williams.”

“Michelle…” Heather’s inquisitive expression soon turned to one of excitement. “I knew you looked familiar!”

“I… do?”

“Yeah, you took 2nd place at Nationals last year, right?”

Though she meant no disrespect by it, the mere mention of that 2nd place finish brought back painful memories. The Miss Teen America, or “Nationals” as high schoolers often call it, is a bodybuilding tournament held annually for girls under 16, 17, and 18 years of age. That result mattered little at this point, especially since Michelle had already been accepted to the National College of Bodybuilding. Even so, it was a trophy she would have loved to have in her room all the same.

“It was so darn close at the top. Really could’ve gone either way!” she smiled brightly.

Her comments offered little solace for her past defeat and even less for the one she had just endured. “That’s just how it goes sometimes.”

Heather nodded. “Anyways, I gotta run. I heard there’s gonna be a big party at the main pool tonight, so let’s catch up there, yeah?”

“Um, well, I think I could-”

“Awesome, see ya!” she waved, her heavy footsteps shaking the floorboards as she took off.

Before she could get another word in edgewise, Heather was gone. As if standing in the aftermath of a twister that had plowed through a small town, Michelle was left behind to pick up the pieces. She slowly made her way back to her party in a daze. Try as they did to comfort and encourage her, their words passed through both ears with no effect. There was room in her mind for only one thing.

Heather, huh? I’ll see you tonight.
GDF-8 @ DA

K+ if you liked the story!

Offline big easy

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 172
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 235
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #6 on: April 15, 2022, 02:30:04 pm »
When Heather showed up I thought at first it was gonna be Sharon lol. Would be kind of hot if she was Sharon and the call from the previous chapter was a scientist friend that had a formula to make her younger and as jacked as she use to be so she can befriend Michelle and keep an eye on her. If not, Heather is an awesome new addition and can't wait to see how things play out between her and Michelle.

Offline GDF-8

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 39
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 22
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #7 on: April 21, 2022, 03:12:35 am »
A Bodybuilder's Tale - Chapter 3
"Strangers"

********
Heather Greene was a name like any other. Neither generic nor unique, it carried little significance per se. In fact, it was about as unremarkable as all the women attached to it. Or at least, that’s what the first few dozen pages of AskJarvis would have you believe.

Michelle frowned, discontent with coming up empty handed. She’s fucking with me. There’s no way that’s her real name.

Her apprehension was certainly not unfounded. The wonder girl who had stolen the show from one of the country’s foremost bodybuilding prodigies and mindfucked an entire club of adult men and women with her one-two punch of overdeveloped girl-bod and X-rated posing was somehow nowhere to be found on the internet. Almost everyone in the industrialized world has at least some sort of social media presence. This goes doubly for up-and-coming athletes, bodybuilders in particular, as brand building was simply part of the game. After all, exposure begets success. Even the least forthcoming among them posted something somewhere. Anywhere. “Heather,” on the other hand, was a ghost.

Michelle peered up at the crowd, scanning the sea of minglers, dancers, and drunks with laser-like focus, hoping to find any sliver of that brilliant red ponytail. Unfortunately, she may as well have been searching for a needle in a haystack. The upper deck was hosting a genuinely impressive “Welcome Aboard” party that was, in spite of its generous expanse and Olympic-sized pool, still packed in like a can of sardines. It felt like half of the damn ship was there to kick off the journey with a bang. Even her besties were living it up, having left Michelle behind with her smaller half. Dan was the only one of the group who stayed, out of obligation or otherwise, to assuage his sulking hulk of a girlfriend. Yet, even he was getting tired of her attitude.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dan asked, his question’s rhetorical nature lost on no one.

*sigh* “I’m fine. Really,” she answered without looking his way.

“Oh, so you’re feeling all better then?”

Michelle scoffed. “Don’t be dick.”

“If you’re really just gonna sit there and play with your phone, why didn’t you just stay in?”

Michelle took her eyes off of Heather-watch to rebuke his tough love. Her fiery glare was just the first warning shot. Waves of sinew sprang forth involuntarily, echoing of her flaring temper and causing her dress to groan in protest. As uncharacteristically conservative as her long sleeve dress may have been, even it could hardly contain the sudden surge of steel-hard, ripped-up flesh boiling underneath. This little show of force would have been a black box warning for most men, or even women for that matter, to back the hell off. But Dan was not most men.

“Don’t gimme that look, Michelle. I know what’s really eating at you.”

“Oh yeah? Take your best shot,” she challenged.

“How long have I known you, huh? If there’s one thing I’ve learned since grade school, it’s that nobody in the whole world hates losing more than Michelle Williams. And today, ya lost,” he put bluntly.

“Bravo,” she responded, clapping sarcastically. “Check out the big brain on Dan! Tell me, Sherlock, how’d you figure that out?”

Dan sat up and leaned closer. “You’re not going to get over this by brushing me off. I know losing burns, and I get that. But just… think about it for a sec.”

“What is there to think about?”

“Let me spell it out for you: that wasn’t regionals. It wasn’t a state-level comp. It wasn’t Ms. America or Ms. World or Ms. Timbuk-fucking-tu! You lost an unofficial, impromptu bikini contest in some sleeze joint on a cruise ship in the middle of spring break! Literally. Meaningless. Hell, by tomorrow, none of those tipsy burnouts are even going to remember it.”

“What about you?” she hit back instantly. “Will you remember?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “You get my point. It’s not some big, life-changing thing that’s going to stick on your record or in anyone’s head forever.”

“So you’re telling me...” Michelle sat up, crossing her veiny, ham hock forearms beneath her considerable bosom before continuing, “You won’t remember her?

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she snickered. “You know who I’m talking about.”

This time, Dan had nothing to say.

Michelle took his silence as guilt. “I figured as much. Not that I blame you. After all, how could anyone forget that gorgeous face, that big round ass, those massive, perky tits, those-”

Suddenly, Dan reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Michelle, stop. You’re just making it hurt more.”

She pulled away, shaking her head as she let out a deflating sigh. “I… I’m sorry,” she apologized, some warmth finally returning to her voice. “You’re right, nobody’s going to remember this. But I will. I mean, how can I forget when I can’t stop thinking about it?”

“You can start by letting the loss go. You of all people should know that you’re competing in by far the most competitive sport in the world. Losing’s just part of the experience.”

“I know, I know. I just... never thought I’d lose like that. That whole fucking club forgot who I was the moment she stepped on stage. And I still don’t even know who she is!”

Dan pointed at her phone, “No luck on the search, huh?”

She shook her head again. “Nope. She’s not even on BSPN or the ABA’s sites.” Many of the most reputed sports journalism and bodybuilding websites kept meticulous and exhaustive stats on all of the pro and amateur competitors in the country, including both college students and high schoolers. The fact that her name failed to show up in any of those databases was a huge red flag.

“If that’s the case, how can you be so sure she’s so young? Hell, I bet she’s just a college upperclassman trying to make herself feel better!”

“I don’t know,” Michelle still sounded defeated. “Maybe Heather isn’t her real name, but... her face tells me she’s probably close to my age.”

“Please, as if your gut instinct has never been wrong. Remember last year, when you told me you ‘were 100% certain’ that Tania and Tina were going out?”

For the first time tonight, Michelle cracked a smile. “Hey, those two look nothing alike! How was I supposed to know they were twins?!”

“Hmmm, maybe by the fact that they have the same last name?”

“Oh shut up, Dan, even you agreed with me at the time!”

“That’s ‘cus I was just egging you on to see if you’d ask Tina about it,” he chuckled. “And no shit, you actually did!”

The imposing brunette stood up, her massive frame casting a shadow that eclipsed the young man. “You’re lucky, little one. Too many witnesses around to kill you,” she snarled.

Unfazed, Dan grabbed her hand, pulled himself up, and whispered in her ear, “Then let’s go somewhere more private where I can show you just how little I’m not...”

Michelle leaned into him for a gentle hug, a little smirk painting over what was left of her grief. “I love you,” she whispered back.

“I love you too.”

After a few seconds, she pulled away and began to head towards the exit with Dan in tow.

“Whoa, where are we going?” he wondered as he was dragged along.

“To your room! What, did you already forget what you just said?”

“W-wait, I was… are you serious?”

“Of course I am! Mom said she wouldn’t be back until super late, so…”

He could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he wasn’t about to wait around for her to change her mind. Dan bolted ahead, quickly taking the lead and pulling his muscular behemoth of a girlfriend with him like a tug boat hauling a container ship. The lovers hurried down the stairs and made their way towards his cabin. On the main deck, they ran across the interior corridor and rounded the corner that led to the ship's starboard walkway. At that very moment, something very large passed them by. Michelle only managed to catch a glimpse, but that was all she needed: sumptuous ribbons of red hair on a very, very built girl.

“Wait, hold on!” She brought the joy ride to a screeching halt.

“Gah!” he yelped. “Jeez, Michelle, you almost dislocated my… Michelle?” As he swung around, he quickly realized her attention had been stolen away by something unseen.

He tapped her pumpkin-size shoulder. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I, um, really should, uh... change into something more comfortable,” she tittered nervously, not even turning to look his way.

“What are you talking about? Just do that at my place!”

“I know, but...” she stalled, finally daring to match his gaze. “I’ll head back to my room and we’ll meet back up in a few, ‘kay?”

“Ahh, suuure?” he yielded, his tone a mixture of confusion and hesitance.

“Thanks babe! It’ll be quick, I promise!” Michelle let go of his hand and quickly darted the opposite direction.

“I’ll just uh, wait up then… I guess…” his voice trailing off as a literally and figuratively deflated Dan turned and slowly trudged back alone.

I’ll make it up to you later, I swear. For Michelle, there was something far more pressing than joining the nautical mile club. She raced towards the pool in an attempt to intercept her target in transit. The moment she rounded that corner again, she could see a looming figure with a shimmering ponytail moving in the distance.

Where is she going? Her mark’s walk was achingly slow as if to encourage passersby to get a good long look. It was working. The handful of nearby passengers that were heading to or leaving the party nearly broke their damn necks trying to steal a better view as she swaggered past the stairwell to the upper deck. After another twenty or so yards, she eventually stopped at a secluded lookout on port side.

That’s gotta be her. “Heather’s” form was as huge as it was unmistakably curvaceous. She was leaning against the metal railing, her crimson crown dancing in the wind as she faced the sea. Michelle gulped, stopping dead in her tracks. Even this far out, the view was no less breathtaking than during her unforgettable stage performance. With enough craggy crests to cover a rugged national park, her characteristically “minimalist” bikini did nothing to hide the barely-legal girl-beef that donned her back like a muscular cape. Michelle had to be careful not to let her own wanton eyes wander for too long. She knew she had a job to do and, after a nice deep breath, continued her advance.

As Michelle stepped closer and closer, it became clear that the über-muscled maiden wasn’t alone. Standing to her left was a young woman, early 20’s maybe. The two smiled and laughed, chatting away as if they were good friends. Astonishingly, she seemed every bit as gorgeous as the redheaded supermodel, flaunting a lush man of golden blonde hair tied into a loose ponytail with an elegant black bow and free-flowing bangs that framed a pair of eyes as deep and blue as the surrounding waters. In spite of her beauty, she did not share her companion’s sensibilities. Instead of racy swimwear, she opted for something much more formal: a white dress shirt with an overlying gray vest, paired with a crisp set of charcoal trousers.

Though, as eye-catching as she was, Michelle kept her focus on the main event. With just a few yards left, her heart was pounding like a tiger trying to fight its way out of a cage. Before those two could notice her awkward approach, she took one last chance to compose herself and muster the necessary mental fortitude to make the first move.

“Heather?”

Both girls turned their heads immediately. “Ah, Michelle!” The young bodybuilder’s eyes lit up. “I’m so glad you made it out here! I was worried I wouldn’t get to see you.”

The blonde, however, didn’t look quite as enthused. Her smile disappeared, a frighteningly stern countenance taking its place.

Sensing her partner’s animus, Heather touched her shoulder. “Grace, don’t be such a stick in the mud. Introduce yourself!”

Without changing her expression, she offered a rather rigid bow. “Grace Pendleton. Delighted to make your acquaintance.” Her icy delivery failed to match the graciousness of her words. In contrast to the bright-eyed, free-spirited redhead, Grace had a contrasting air of refinement about her that was as striking as it was intimidating. The fact that she actually stood a couple inches taller than Heather didn’t help either. And though she lacked her partner’s bulk, even her prudish getup kept few secrets. With rounded shoulders the size of cantaloupes, several inches worth of pec cleavage jutting out from her loosely buttoned top, and thighs that could cleave any man in two, the statuesque figure underneath that tight outfit was undoubtedly packed with dense muscle.



Damn, what is her problem? “Nice to meet you,” Michelle reciprocated, doing her best to brush off that cold shoulder. “Heather, I didn’t get a chance to properly congratulate you,” she continued, attempting to sound as genuine as possible. “You totally killed it on stage!”

“Ha! You mean at that dingy dive? You don’t have to talk me up over something so silly. It was just a little fun!”

A little fun? You flashed your tits at a whole crowd of goddamn strangers! “Maybe it was silly, but you worked them like a pro! You must have a ton of competition experience.”

“Oh, I wish,” she smiled. “I don’t think the judges would ever take me seriously if I ever pulled those stunts at a real contest.”

“Yeah? Then where’d you learn all those moves? No lie, I’d love to cop a few.”

“Believe it or not, I picked them up just from binge watching a few of my idols. Sabrina Bell, Katya Volkov, Mai Hayasaka, just to name a few.”

Interesting taste. Of all the big-time pros she could have mentioned, those three were some of the more infamous names. Bodybuilding as a sport has struggled mightily to walk the tightrope between family-friendly entertainment and straight up muscle girl pornography. For as much as the governing bodies have tried to paint an immaculate picture of the former, the reality was that having a bunch of good-looking, near-naked women show off their Venusian physiques intrinsically skewed that perspective towards the latter. In fact, all but those with the “cleanest” of images had, at one time or another, dipped their toes into the wild side. But those three did more than just wade in the shallow end; they dived in headfirst! From naked workout videos to some naughty girl-on-girl “playtime”, their participation in softcore often left them at odds with the International Bodybuilding Federation.

Grace leaned over and placed a hand on Heather’s arm. “Ms. Greene, should you really be disclosing that?”

“I told you not to be so formal when we’re outside! Plus, Michelle’s cool!”

…Ms. Greene? Who are these two? “So, you got a Snapbook handle?” Michelle proceeded with her investigation.

“Eh, I don’t mess with social media. Not really my thing.”

Guess that partially explains why I couldn’t look you up. “What?! With muscles like that? You’d kill it out there!” Her cheerleading may have had an ulterior motive, but those words were no exaggeration. Far from it, the truth was standing right in front of her in a bold, red bikini. Everything about Heather seemed to make a mockery of what a teenage girl could achieve. Her otherworld beauty stood in stark relief against the backdrop of that untamable physique, luscious swathes of billowing brawn encrusting nearly every part of her being. Each individual muscle was cut with so much anatomical precision that even the dim moonlight could accentuate all of the finer details. In short, she was every bit as big and bad as Michelle, a rare sight for someone with so few equals.

“Please stop prying,” Grace chirped, her eyebrows furrowing as her inflection went sub-zero. “She does not need to explain herself to-”

“Grace,” Heather cut her off, rolling her eyes. “Chill, it’s fine.”

“Heather, seriously, you are gorgeous. I mean that,” Michelle insisted, ignoring the overprotective blonde entirely. She was going to press for more whether she liked it or not. “Scouts should be lighting up your phone with modeling gigs, sponsorships, you name it!”

Heather blushed and held up her hands. “Maybe they would, but… let’s just say I like to keep it on the DL.”

Really? What are you hiding?

“Anyway, enough talk about me,” she added. “I didn’t expect to see someone as big as you on the cruise, let alone the Michelle Williams herself! Grace,” she nudged, “you’re standing in the presence of bodybuilding royalty! Show some respect!”

“Wonderful. We are so fortunate,” she uttered, her tone so deadpan it surely doubled as ridicule.

“Royalty? I don’t think anyone's ever called me that before.”

“No? But your house is probably overflowing with trophies, right? I mean, your mom was such a babe when I was growing up. I’m pretty sure I still have a first-edition issue of Bodybuilding Illustrated when she was on the front page! She’s a freakin’ legend!” Much to Michelle's surprise, her eyes seemed to sparkle as she gushed about the Williams’ accomplishments. For as little as she trusted Heather, even she had to admit the warmth and glee in her voice would have been tough to fake. “And by the looks of it,” she continued, “the apple didn’t fall far from the tree! Aren’t you ranked, like, top 5 in the whole country?”

“Oh, I don’t really pay any mind to those polls,” Michelle scratched her head, lying through her teeth.

“Well I do. Pretty sure it’s safe to say I’ll see you up on the Ms. America stage in a few years, huh?”

“Maybe. If you do, you’ll be up there with me, won’t you? No way you’re gonna sit in the lower divisions for long.”

“Oh yeah, I plan on it,” Heather spoke confidently. “I’m sure both of us want the Ms. America AND Ms. World medals around our necks!”

“Ha! Yeah, one thing at a time first. Gotta get through college and grind through the pros before I can even dream of competing for the majors. Speaking of… what, uh, year are you?” Michelle asked apprehensively. “You in college? High school?”

“Oh, we’re the same year! About to graduate high school in a few months!”

I knew it! She is as young as she looks. “Awesome! Yeah, senior year has flown by in such a hurry. Where are you headed to next?”

“The National College of Bodybuilding!” she answered with vigor and pride.

What the hell?! And just like that, a prime opportunity to one-up the adolescent hotrod turned to ash. If size was the only factor, this would not have come as a surprise. But the College had always been notoriously stingy about who they selected. Being big and buff was just the start. Traditionally, rising freshmen have always had a wealth of competition experience and wins, while maintaining the impressive, well-rounded resumes that would be expected at distinguished academia. So if indeed she lacked any official stage experience as those bodybuilding websites would suggest, Heather must have had something else truly special up her sleeve for the selection committee to even look her way.

“Wow, me too!” Michelle exclaimed, her focus now waning.

“Well, duh, no way someone with your chops isn’t a shoe-in for the College! Oh, this is great! We’re gonna be classmates soon!”

Heather’s giddiness was slowly being tuned out, her brunette counterpart instead preoccupied by the imaginary threat of a nightmarish cadre of worst-case scenarios. With the two of them squarely on the same path, Michelle imagined the foxy redhead outclassing her in every way possible: better grades, bigger muscles, and more trophies. Heather’s career would take her to the very height of the bodybuilding world, while she could only live in fear underneath her colossal shadow.

“Michelle?” She felt Heather’s gentle touch graze her arm. “Once we’re up there, you gotta let me know your secret when it comes to pecs.” She placed a hand on her own, well-endowed bosom as she admired her counterpart’s nationally acclaimed thickness. *sigh* “Phenomenal!”

“Definitely, it’d be great to-”

“Oooh, you know what?” she interrupted, a lightbulb apparently flipping on inside her head. “I was lucky enough to pick up one of the Tier 1 packages for this cruise, so I have all-day access to the VIP gym! Why don’t we get some reps in tonight?”

“VIP gym?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s separate from the main gym on the bottom deck. This ones higher up. Much better view! And the weights are sooooo much heavier! Perfect for you and I!”

“Ms. Gre- ah… Heather?” Grace, at last, intervened, tugging at her companion’s meaty arm.

“Yes?”

With a concerned look, the blonde leaned in and whispered something, being careful to cover her mouth. Heather however, shook her head and brushed her off. “We’ll be fine, don’t worry! I’ll call you if I need anything, m’kay?”

“Heather,” she frowned, “Listen to me. This is not a good-”

“Grace, what was the point of us putting in all that effort to come out here if we aren’t going to have a good time?”

She did not like that answer. “We?” she scoffed. The stately blonde turned her head just to give Michelle the stink eye, before glaring back at Heather and offering a chilling response. “Very well. We will discuss this later.” Then, out of nowhere, she grasped Heather’s bullish neck, leaned in, and brought their faces together for a desperate, passionate kiss. For a few hot seconds, their luscious lips were locked in a sensual dance that seemed far too polished to be their first. When Grace finally pulled away, she scowled at their sole spectator one last time before shaking her head and walking off in a huff.

What… was… that? Michelle could barely disguise the shock on her face, wondering to herself just who the hell these two really were behind closed doors.

“Sorry,” Heather cleared her throat. “She gets like that sometimes. So, you up for a good evening pump?”

Michelle turned back around, trying her best to shake off the bewilderment. More than that, she had mixed feelings about this unexpected invite. Would it really be okay to leave Dan hanging like that? And if Heather turns out to be the stronger, would her wounded pride be able to take another hit? She pondered for only a brief moment before answering, “Well... it’s not a half bad idea. I probably need to work off all this buffett food anyway.”

“Sweet, I get to see you in action! Oh, and you’ll need this.” Heather handed her a sturdy-looking, all black, metal card. It was entirely blank except for the ship’s logo and a name: “Grace Pendleton.”

With a confused look, she responded, “Grace? But this is-”

Heather put a finger to her lips, “Shhh, not so loud…”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, she still has her room key! You’ll need it in order to get inside that gym, and of course, I'll need mine,” she said, pulling her own card out from the tiny clutch dangling from her wrist. “Head to Deck 4 and walk past the boutique shops near the back of the ship. Can’t miss it!”

“Cool, uh... Thanks. How about I go get changed and meet you there in… ten to fifteen?”

“Great, I’ll see ya there!”

Michelle waved goodbye, her smile fading into a visage of unwavering focus as she walked back to her cabin. She had never thought such a simple vacation would turn out so eventful, though whether that would be for better or for worse was yet to be written. Regardless of the consequences of tonight, one thing was clear: if she had any hope of realizing her dreams of becoming the best bodybuilder in the world, she first had to accomplish the comparatively mundane feat of becoming top of her class. And tonight, she was going to put everything on the line to make sure Heather would be just another stepping stone on the way up.
GDF-8 @ DA

K+ if you liked the story!

Offline GDF-8

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 39
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 22
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #8 on: June 06, 2022, 03:47:24 am »
A Bodybuilder's Tale - Ch. 4
"Impatience"

********
“Sorry to keep you waiting. Can we rain check tonight?” Michelle typed on her phone, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

You know I can’t let this sit. I have to find out for myself. She sent another text, “I need to clear my head with some weights. Promise I’ll make this up to you tomorrow!  ”

Leaving Dan hanging like that made her feel guilty as hell, but she knew it had to be done. Where is Heather from? Why has she been hiding all this time? Just how strong is she? As a girl aiming for the top of the bodybuilding world, she couldn’t let these questions go unanswered. For this very purpose, Michelle changed into her workout clothes: a skintight, red sports bra and a rather short pair of leggings that stopped only as far as mid thigh. Unsurprisingly, the few passengers that happened to stroll by checked her out from head to toe. They weren’t subtle about it either. After all, it wasn’t often they saw someone that muscular in person. With half of the gorgeous brunette’s lusciously thick body on full display, their ogling wasn’t completely indefensible. Then again, compared with her soon-to-be workout partner’s tendencies, Michelle might as well have been a nun.

After passing the outdoor shops, she soon found herself in front of a modern-looking and rather grandiose structure of metal and glass. Marked with only a “VIP” sign above the entrance, its floor-to-ceiling windows were lined with a reflective silver that made it impossible to peer inside. Only the light shining through the cracks between the double doors offered any clues that it might be open. Undeterred, Michelle tapped Grace’s card on the reader. A soft beep was followed almost immediately by a blast of cool, recycled air awash with the sterile scent of cleaning products–signatures of a well-kept gym.

Wow… The website was not lying when they touted the scope of this place. Not many cruise ships had the audacity to sport weights that could challenge girls like Michelle. The Sapphire of the Seas, on the other hand, was ambitious enough to have a second specialized gym dedicated to giving even seasoned pro bodybuilders a proper pump! At a glance, it seemed there were enough machines here to strain every muscle in the human body and so many free weights one might think the ship would have trouble staying afloat! Of course, access was limited only to guests purchasing a super-VIP package, which, according to that same website, started at a whopping $30,000! How either Heather or Grace could afford such insanely expensive packages only raised more questions.

Speaking of Heather, she was nowhere to be found at first glance. In fact, besides Michelle, the place was deserted—without any receptionists or staff—save for one other woman on the far end of the floor who was partially obscured by the forest of equipment.

Damn, who is that? Upon closer inspection, Michelle found an imposing-looking woman dressed in a sweater that would have hung loose like pj’s on herself, yet was instead stretched incredibly tight on that monumental frame. She was moving weights well beyond what the high school senior could hope to budge without at least several more years of intense training and doing it with flawless form to boot. What was odd, however, was that her head was concealed behind both a hoodie and face mask. It seemed as though her philosophy was the polar opposite of Heather’s: attract as little attention as possible. Then again, it wasn’t working very well; even without grasping the full extent of her muscularity behind all that metal and cloth, there was no question she would have turned today’s bikini contest into a rout.

The bodybuilder looked up briefly as if sensing her unwelcome audience, making eye contact with her in the wall-to-wall mirror. Michelle awkwardly turned her head and shuffled away. After only a few steps, she glanced behind to find the woman had stopped her set, got up, and stepped out of sight.

Weird. For whatever reason, that bodybuilder was trying her best to keep things under wraps, and she wasn’t about to find out what would happen if she saw too much. Clutching her gym bag a little tighter, she hurried into the locker room. Hearing some rummaging coming from inside, she sheepishly peeked around the corner…

There you are. Heather was standing in front of an open locker against the wall, organizing her things. For once, her hair was unsullied and those beautiful long strands of crimson were free to drape her fantastically over-muscled back like stage curtains.

“Hey!” Michelle called out.

“Oh, hey!” Heather spun around and closed the locker. “Glad you made it. Any problems getting here?”

“No, it wasn’t too bad.” You really are unbelievable. Surprising no one, her counterpart was practically baring all with the exact same skimpy, red bikini she wore earlier. And with her belongings secured, it didn’t seem like she had any intention of changing into something more PG.

“So…" Heather approached Michelle with the same oversexed swagger she had on stage. "Did you get a chance to scope out the goods?” she purred, a devastatingly sultry lilt invading her tone. The teenage hotrod grinned knowingly and stepped closer and closer, not stopping until she had taken over all of her new rival's personal space. Catching her off guard, Michelle gulped and reflexively leaned back. She could count on one hand how many times she had felt intimidated by a girl of her age, and now this immodest tart was responsible for exactly half of them. Heather’s big, bulky, and almost completely nude tits were practically touching her own at this point. The soft light accentuated their every cut and curve while nipples that could bore through steel pushed her bikini far enough out to let her retreating opponent preview the perfect little bumps of her areolas.

“The… goods?” Michelle squeaked. Heather didn’t answer at first, instead taking some deep breaths and letting her chest rise and push forward even more. Michelle could just barely feel the fabric of their tops make faint contact. It was as if the redhead was daring to test her own hardness against the biggest pecs of any highschooler in the country. The silence went on for only a couple seconds, but it was more than enough time to let Michelle marinate in doubt over that title.

“Yeah, the weights and machines!” Heather eventually clarified, innocence veiling her voice once more as she pulled away. “Isn’t the selection amazing?”

Red in the face, Michelle cleared her throat. “Yes, it’s very impressive.”

“I can’t wait to get started. I’ll let you get ready!” Heather waved before heading outside.

Michelle sighed. What is wrong with me? Their workout hadn't even begun, yet that red menace was already getting inside her head. Picking out an empty locker, she could feel her heart racing. Anticipation weighed heavy; if Heather could move the kind of iron her confidence seemed to suggest, then she might be in real trouble.

No, get a hold of yourself! Michelle knew she was in too deep to back out. If she mentally conceded now, Heather would just walk all over her. She couldn’t let that happen. From the very instant the judges announced Dawn Sharpe as Miss Teen America last year, she promised herself she would never take her foot off the pedal until the grandest prize belonged to her alone. Besides, what mattered now was strength, not sass–she was going to let her muscles do all the talking. Michelle cracked her neck as she closed the locker shut. Bring it on.

Stepping back out onto the main floor, Michelle trekked through the metal jungle to find Heather tying up her hair back into her usual ponytail. As she did, she could hear heavy footsteps thumping hastily across the concrete floor. By the time she turned around, she only caught half a glimpse of a very large, gray figure escaping into the locker room.

Shrugging, she continued on and soon found herself standing next to Heather in front of a vast wall-to-wall mirror. “Hey, any idea who that is?” Michelle wondered.

“Who?”

“The lady that is-” she glanced behind, finding they were indeed alone. “Was working out before we got here.”

“Oh, her? Not a clue,” Heather answered, letting her eyes casually wander towards the exquisite brunette’s thoroughly impressive reflection and offering a slight smile before adding, “But it blows my mind that she’d cover up a body like that.”

“Speaking of, are you sure you don’t want to put on a sports bra or something?” Michelle quipped. Being meek had not done her any favors, so why not get a little cheeky? “I’ve got a spare in my bag that you can borrow.”

“Nah, it’s no problem. It probably wouldn’t fit me anyway,” Heather snarked, unfazed. Before Michelle’s lips could come together for a counterattack, she quickly added, “Plus, I like working out… unrestricted.” She stretched that last word out as long as humanly possible, her gaze returning to her own awe-inspiring image. She then traced her delicate fingers down those magnificent contours much like she did on stage hours ago, seeming to delight in both the feel and size of her diamond-hard body.

Michelle rolled her eyes. Oh, get over yourself… “Why don’t we start with some curls?” she interrupted her prideful peer’s self indulgence. Extended full-body workouts typically began with arms for her, so she figured a familiar routine might work towards her advantage or, at the very least, calm some nerves.

“Keeping it simple. I like it!”

Both girls walked up to the racks where the adjustable dumbbells rested. Though compact in appearance, each individual plate weighed, at minimum, several hundred pounds each! Unlike weights for “normal” people, these were not made out of the usual iron, steel, and rubber. Rather, to avoid comically large and cumbersome sizes, the plates were instead constructed from a high tech and very expensive alloy of tungsten and lead that was more dense than gold, allowing for heavy lifts in a more practical profile.

Heather adjusted the dial to 1,200 lbs, large slats of metal clicking in place. When she pulled the dumbbells up, the burden of two grand piano’s worth of gravity caused her arms to flare with intimidating size. Huge U-shaped triceps burst forth with far more mass than any horse’s hooves could ever fit. Michelle followed suit, adjusting her own pair to the exact same setting. The enormous teens commenced their evening pump with a “light” warmup, performing alternating curls with more metal than a man could ever hope to squat! Yet, for a girl of Michelle’s prowess, she didn't need to cast a single conscious thought at the male-crushing weights in her hands. Her mechanics were so effortless and the load so pedestrian that she may as well have been curling tissue boxes. Instead, she opted to focus her attention towards her periphery, eyeing Heather as discreetly as she could.

Not bad. Her form was excellent, but she already knew that would be the case. It would have been unthinkable for anyone to pack on so much mass without years of disciplined training.

“So, Heather,” Michelle chimed, “What made you get into bodybuilding?”

“You mean other than fame and fortune? Making millions in career earnings and getting your face plastered all over magazines and commercials? Having legions of fans throwing themselves-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. Stupid question.”

Heather chuckled. “Sorry, I’m just messing with ya. Obviously, we all want that.” Her smile faded before continuing, “Believe it or not, a big part of why I’m doing this is simply because my parents absolutely hate it. They can’t stand the idea of me becoming a bodybuilder.”

Michelle’s mouth went wide. “What? That’s…”

“Actually, I think their words were, ‘we absolutely forbid you from becoming a bodybuilder!’”

“That’s insane! I mean, how many millions of girls dream about growing up to be the next Amy Monroe?”

“Well, having a successful career is not quite why they're so against it."

“Then why would they-”

“Look, I’m sorry Michelle,” Heather interrupted, shaking her head. “Let’s just say my parents aren’t like most and leave it at that.”

“Oh, my bad. I didn’t mean to pry.” No way your folks are really that crazy… Right?

“It’s not your fault.” Heather paused to finish her set. 40 reps for each arm had flashed by in just over a minute for both girls. Despite the relative lightness of the warmup, their muscles were starting to wake up. Thick, snaking blood vessels littered the surface of their bulging arms, the confluence of their deltoids, biceps, and triceps growing ever tighter as the airspace around them was consumed by pure muscle. They were well-matched, for now at least.

“Anyway, how about yourself?” she asked as she reset the dumbbell and upped them to a much more “appropriate” 2,200 lbs.

Michelle played copycat once again and matched her pound for pound. “Following in my mom’s footsteps always felt natural to me. Even though she retired before I could even say the word ‘bodybuilding’, she pushed hard for me to… well, try to do what she couldn’t, I guess.”

“Miss America?”

Michelle nodded. “At first, I did it just to humor her. But the bigger I got, the more I realized just how special this is. Doing something that few others can, and maybe one day being the best at it–nothing really compares.”

Heather was silent. Both girls polished off their second sets, again with relative ease, and without another word exchanged. 30 clean curls marked the end of their opening spar; the heavy lifting was about to begin. Then, before the leading lady could readjust the dial, she looked over at her partner and eventually spoke up, “You’re very lucky, having a mom like yours. She must have done a lot for you.”

Michelle wasn’t sure she heard some inkling of resentment, but if there was, she welcomed it. “She has, and I’m grateful,” she stated coolly. “It’s all the more reason why I can’t lose. How sad would it be for ‘bodybuilding royalty’ to never wear the crown?” With those words, Michelle seized the initiative for the first time tonight. She set her own dumbbells to 3,000 lbs, even taking a moment to “catch her breath” so as to let her partner have plenty of time to see that she meant business. Heather got the message loud and clear, grinning and turning her dial a couple notches farther than she had originally planned so she could match her head-turning rival’s growing confidence.

Both girls had no choice but to apply a modicum of focus now: the real workout had begun. Though their pace was only partially stifled by the added weight, there was no doubt their biceps had kicked into high gear. Each rep forced their diamond peaks harder and higher, edging them closer and closer towards their own wrists. The heavy metal commanded so much of their power that their bulging biceps–now pumped into hyper-striated, distended growths of horrifyingly hard beef that contradicted their otherwise youthful, girlish demeanors–prevented them from fully flexing their arms!

Impressive, Michelle thought, again monitoring Heather with a few glances here and there. Her form was as impeccable as ever. Those warmup sets had been child’s play. Now, even with one and a half tons in each hand, that vixen showed little sign that she had been any more encumbered. Her hands moved up and down in perfect cadence, huge storm surges of flesh accompanying each rep. She was no amateur, and her skill with a dumbbell was surely not self-taught. There was much more to her than she let on.

“Have you really never competed before?” Michelle blurted.

Heather seemed to be taken aback. “What?”

“I’ll be honest, I was curious. After the contest, I looked you up on a couple databases and, strangely, I never found your name listed on any of them.”

“Creepin’ on me, huh?”

“Well, it’s only fair. You seemed to know so much about me, whereas I’ve been in the dark about you.”

Heather pondered for a bit, unsure of what to say at first.

C’mon, spill it!

“You got me,” Heather finally admitted, “I’ve never competed before.”

Aha! “Wow, that’s… kind of amazing. A Miss America hopeful not once stepping into the limelight before college. I gotta ask, why?”

“I already told you, I like to keep all this on the DL.”

“What for? You’re going to the National College of Bodybuilding soon and, when you do, everyone in the world is going to know your name.”

“Grace was right, you are very nosy,” she answered coldly, her voice raised in annoyance. “Fine, how about I show you the reason?” She abruptly stopped her set at 15 reps and promptly marched her dumbbells back to the rack. There, she started to crank the dial up. And up. And up! The alarming sound of clanging metal followed each click, the gauge ultimately settling at a staggering 4,000 lbs! With an exasperated grunt, she handled both weights with a chilling lack of fear or hesitation. Instantly, her arms and her legs ballooned with frightening size in order to accommodate the preposterous load–it was all hands on deck for every muscle fiber from her deltoids all the way down to her gastrocs, a shocking number of rips and cuts suddenly imprinting all over her perfect, milky skin.

Michelle nearly bugged out at the sight. Oh, fuck! The last time she had maxed out her own alternating curls was just last week, and now Heather was threatening to exceed that personal best by 400 pounds!

“If you wait any longer, you’ll lose your pump,” Heather snapped, her musculature creaking as she stood with a sedan's worth of weight in each hand. She was through humoring her adversary with personal information, her previous smile evaporating into a near snarl. That visage was made all the more intimidating by her phenomenally yoked physique, almost all of which was uncovered by immodesty.

Michelle scrambled back to the rack, unwilling to fall behind. She knew going in this may well prove to be the fight of her life, but she didn’t quite imagine the night would go sour so early. Nonetheless, she wasn’t about to give up. She set her dumbbells to two tons exactly, equaling Heather’s ungodly challenge. But by the time the anxious teen pulled the weights off the rack and turned around, the train had already left the station.

Though Heather’s curls were much slower and more deliberate than before, her form was as unassailable as ever. Astoundingly, her hands and arms were rock steady in spite of them each hoisting seven times her own bodyweight! Every one of those first few reps looked like they should have been impossible, and yet her stubborn arms refused to yield any ground. Instead, they flourished defiantly, grossly distended mounds of sickeningly striated sinew swelling into literal meat mountains and smashing against her equally brawny forearms. Her upper limbs were now so overstuffed with beef that she could no longer bring the dumbbells within 90 degrees of her shoulder! She was curling like her life depended on it, and by the looks of it, she was thriving.

Michelle, on the other hand, struggled to simultaneously process the absurd feat she was witnessing while mentally preparing herself for something she wasn’t sure she could physically accomplish. With a few hurried and very much needed gasps of air, she gnashed her teeth and threw everything she had at what would be a record-breaking set. Right away, she knew she was doomed. Despite curling at a snail's pace and completely sacrificing her once perfect form, her arms felt like they were being torn apart. For all their power, her ambition was being ruthlessly punished. The weights wobbled as her strength waned, her magnificent, barrel-sized biceps seemingly all bark and no bite.

“Why should I bother with pointless amateur shows?” Heather hissed with her 6th rep, the strain of two hyperdense alloy dumbbells, each nearly as large as her own considerable torso, shamelessly expressed in both her beautiful face and her airy voice, but not her implacable body.

“So I can show how much bigger I am than the other girls?” Her eyes were furrowed, her brow damp with sweat, an almost unnatural fury rising from behind her crystalline-blue irises. Michelle threw a few panicked glances her way only to be rebuked by the gut-wrenching sight of those freakish arms tearing into weights with unflinching resolve.

“I couldn’t care less about ‘posing experience’ or ‘exposure’!” Michelle could barely keep her mind on her own lifts, and now Heather’s overbearing aura was leaving her in the dust. With every painstaking rep, the next one seemed further and further away. For every one of her own sloppy curls, the ferocious redhead was completing two perfect reps with supreme confidence!

“Not buying into that crap has given me the chance to focus entirely on… Aaahhh!” The overgrown teen let out a sharp cry, her titanic arms throbbing with vein-popping effort. The sheer size of her mammoth peaks were becoming increasingly mind-blowing by the second, revolting clusters of vascularity encircling their craggy surfaces as they flexed to heights practically unheard of for a high school girl! “Getting bigger!” she yelled as her unyielding biceps matched the gravitational force of those enormous dumbbells, the 10th rep felled at last.

“I lied to you earlier, Michelle,” Heather panted, winded but not beaten. Finally done with her incredible set, the millions of muscle fibers writhing underneath remained on high alert, her hands still clasped firmly around the handles of the two ton weights. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about what my parents think of me.”

Michelle could only respond with the same worried look she wore since the beginning of this set. The strain of these record-smashing lifts had made her lightheaded. Her burning biceps had melted into mush; she could go no further. The only solace she found was in the fact that Heather seemed to have hit the wall too, albeit with far more grace and resilience. Michelle shook her head, wondering how on earth those brutish arms of hers could hold so much power. Was it strength of body? Or strength of will?



Heather briefly leered at her depleted neighbor with pity. “Truth is… the main reason why I want to be a bodybuilder…”

*creak* Unbelievably, the dumbbells were shifting once again! Holy shit! It had been a grave mistake believing Heather was finished. The sexy, pale-skinned goddess groaned mightily as the weights began their mind-blowing ascent. Michelle had thrown in the towel at a rather pathetic five reps–reps that judges of any competition would have laughed her off the stage for–and here this monster was about to run victory laps!

“Is because…” 11. Heather’s eyes were closed now as she dedicated every last drop of mental fortitude to this Venusian effort. Every inch those weights moved up made the pit in Michelle’s stomach sink deeper and deeper. She counted these final reps like an inmate counting their final days, praying for a higher power to do something–anything–to stop this madwoman from making this contest any more embarrassing.

“It makes me feel strong!” 12! 10 seconds: that’s how long this rep took each arm. No more. Heather could take no more, surely. Her arms were quivering with unfathomable effort, to the point of failure, surely. Her muscles couldn’t be this strong, this resilient, surely!

“It makes me feel hot!” 13! It was useless. For as achingly slow as each rep may have been, the next one seemed as inevitable as the sunrise. Her biceps bulged with size, strength, and definition that easily surpassed Michelle’s greatest fears! Heather was proving beyond all doubt that the bikini contest was no fluke, and tonight was going to end no differently.

“It makes me feel… like a GODDESS!” Heather roared, her entire body shuddering with inhuman effort as both arms rose simultaneously! She was lifting almost 15 times her bodyweight all at once as she summoned power she had no right to wield! Her gigantic triceps scraped against her ludicrously stacked lats as they unfolded like wings on a prehistoric beast, her arms somehow rising to stand parallel to the ground! Her rage-warped face was now sandwiched firmly between a pair of medicine ball-sized shoulders, which were practically convulsing from the staggering stunt. Then, her hands began to move inward, dragging the hopelessly overmatched weights with them–her closing act was none other than a breathtaking hero curl!

The young dynamo had turned this workout into a showcase of unadulterated dominance. As her monumental biceps contracted, they climbed higher and higher. Those hulking masses of she-meat were utterly unstoppable, thick cuts of ripped-to-shreds girl-beef piling on and stretching her delicate white skin razor-thin with their relentless growth. Every last muscle fiber was now highlighted and etched in stark relief, brazenly ignoring the harsh obscuring glow of the fluorescent lights above. Then, halfway up to the apex, their advance slowed to a halt. Was this it? Had she finally reached her limit? By now, Michelle should have known the answer.

Without opening her eyes, a wicked smirk painted across Heather’s slender lips. With a guttural growl, the weights abruptly jolted upwards once more! Biceps rigged with C4 detonated, a mushroom cloud of muscle tearing past her previous limits and pushing well past her dainty wrists! The crackle of the mighty muscular explosion was so forceful that it made the windows vibrate! In the same split-second, her fists slammed straight into those indestructible walls of muscle–weights in tow–with a thunderous thud: a signal of her absolute victory!

Heather then let out an excessively lewd moan, her body trembling again but this time out of pure arousal. The thin sheen of sweat that had been accumulating since the warmup sets had coalesced into glistening droplets that studded her entire, jacked up body. Admiring in the glow of her show of force, she held the hero curl turned double biceps mega-flex for an extra few seconds. Eventually, she released the massive weights from their muscular prison and gently placed them back on the rack, all the while keeping her eyes locked solely on her fully-unleashed, anatomy-defying body.

Michelle simply stood there and watched, seemingly in a daze. Her weights were still in hand despite having given up on her own set long ago. After seeing this insurmountable display of stamina and strength, her grand personal promise was starting to look a lot more like hyperbole.

Heather, however, was not done. She lifted her right arm once more, and flexed her disproportionally jacked bicep all the way up near the top of her pretty little head. Another all too explicit groan parted her lips, clearly turned on by her own prowess. “Fuck yeah,” she gloated, drinking up her own reflection like a parched sailor. She planted a sopping wet kiss on each of those twin towers as she flexed them in turn, worshiping herself as if she was the only person in the room. “Look at what you babies have turned into. Fucking monsters!” She then swapped into a side chest–or rather, side biceps–pose, that caused even her massively muscle-packed bust to be completely eclipsed by her much more pumped arms!

After a few more obnoxious poses, Heather asked haughtily, “So, what’s next?” She turned towards her once proud adversary, fully expecting to see her mentally withered.

Michelle didn’t answer. She was leaning over the dumbbell rack now, looking straight down.

Heather smirked. It was over. With a show of force like that, she was sure she had shattered the resolve of that chesty brunette into a million little pieces. Now all that was left to do was prove that even though-

“My arms have been craving a real challenge,” Michelle suddenly chirped. Heather raised an eyebrow. When she eventually turned around to face her triumphant rival, to her shock, what she saw was not a face of defeat.

Michelle was smiling. “Let’s keep going.”
GDF-8 @ DA

K+ if you liked the story!

Offline Apley44

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 102
  • Activity:
    6.67%
  • KARMA: 128
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #9 on: June 07, 2022, 01:26:31 am »
Absolutely incredible updates! Heather is a monster! And I really admire Michelle’s resolve. Hope there’s more girls coming up from the NCB and Michelle’s mom

Offline Wookey

  • Full Member
  • ***
  • Posts: 609
  • Activity:
    13.33%
  • KARMA: 152
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #10 on: June 07, 2022, 04:42:51 am »
Sexy as f   Karma +

Offline jhunter

  • Full Member
  • ***
  • Posts: 722
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 181
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #11 on: June 07, 2022, 06:30:23 pm »
Great update, nice additions. Nope to see more real soon.

Offline quick

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 87
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 73
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #12 on: June 09, 2022, 06:30:49 am »
...hot damn.

Offline GDF-8

  • Newbie
  • *
  • Posts: 39
  • Activity:
    0%
  • KARMA: 22
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #13 on: June 21, 2022, 05:09:42 pm »
A Bodybuilder's Tale - Ch. 5
“Two Betrayals”
 
********
Dan’s phone flashed and lit up his dark room. Lazily unlocking it, he found a pair of texts from Michelle that he wished he could have said surprised him. With a long sigh, he stared blankly at the ceiling, lying alone on a queen-sized mattress far more suited for a super swole girlfriend and her lover than a lone wolf. Unfortunately for him, the former scenario had been thrown overboard. Her messages confirmed his suspicions: Michelle hadn’t run off to “change into something more comfortable.” No, what she was actually doing was meeting up with that redhead to do some recon, or worse, find some way to one-up her.
 
For as long as Dan had known her, Michelle had always been highly competitive. Actually, that was putting it lightly. Michelle was psychotically competitive. It didn’t matter if it was athletics, academics, or something as trivial as board games and beer pong—she was constantly trying to prove herself the best. Over the past few years, she had fortunately mellowed out, partly out of maturity and partly due to her closest friends browbeating her over how obnoxious it was. Still, the one area she refused to pump the brakes was, of course, bodybuilding.
 
There was a reason why she didn’t have many friends as big as herself. She frequently saw other bodybuilders her age, especially close rivals, as little more than obstacles. To her, they existed only as inspiration to push herself further. Sure, she was cordial enough to them at competitions, shaking their hands and exchanging niceties. But deep down, nothing satisfied her more than seeing them stand on lower podiums. The few instances that didn’t happen turned her inside out. She would be in a foul mood for days, spending an exorbitant amount of time in the gym to try and “make up for it.” In short, she was not a gracious loser.
 
Then again, Dan couldn’t fault her too much. If he were a betting man, he would probably put money on Michelle not being alone in that mindset. Bodybuilding was a ruthless sport, one not meant for the faint of heart. Every contest yielded just one winner, and only the most driven had any shot at making it out of the shark tank alive. If anything, he found that passion, that uncompromising will to become the very best, to be both inspiring and sexy.
 
Nowhere were the fruits of those labors more apparent than under the bright lights of competition day. There, she could express herself to the fullest, unveiling the marble relief art of the physique she had so painstakingly sculpted over the prior months. Dan knew for a fact she was never happier than when she was on stage, not even when they were together. He didn’t mind. He appreciated her passion. He knew the kind of pressure she put on herself, the kind of pressure her mom put on her. Even though Michelle swore she never coerced her, there was no doubt Ms. Williams’ legacy of success and failure weighed heavily on her daughter’s broad shoulders. It made those wins all the more exciting and the tiny handful of losses all the more painful. Either way, with a body that ludicrous, she always looked damn good no matter the outcome.
 
That's why what happened today was so disturbing. It wasn’t that she lost. It was the way she lost. This wasn't a neck and neck tie; there was no photo finish. They couldn't look back and console themselves with an “it could have gone either way.” No, Michelle was humiliated. She was swept off the stage like some third-rate opener for a superstar act. And she knew it, too. He knew it. Her friends knew it. Everyone present understood there was no second place in that club. Yet, somehow, that brutal loss wasn’t what bothered him the most right now. Sure, he felt awful for Michelle. He wished things hadn’t turned out this way and he genuinely hoped she would feel better. But what was truly upsetting was the fact that he wasn’t more upset with her.
 
When Dawn Sharpe took 1st at the Teen USA last year, he resented her for it. Hell, it wouldn’t have been a far cry to say he hated her guts, at least for a while. How dare she take what was rightfully Michelle’s? How could she break the heart of his love like that? It was unforgivable. That’s how he should have felt about “Heather,” even more so given the severity of that crushing victory. But he didn't. And he couldn’t—or maybe didn’t want to—figure out why.
 
Dan let out a frustrated sigh and sprung up off the bed. He paced around the room as he grappled with his emotions, all alone and with nobody to talk it out with. Then again, it’s not like he could have chatted openly about this with Michelle or even her friends. Speaking of, they were probably still up on the party deck making the most out of their spring break. Taking his mind off of all this with a good time wasn’t a bad idea. At the very least, he should have stepped outside for some fresh air. But he didn't.
 
Instead, idle hands prevailed. He whipped out his phone and plopped back down on the bed. He navigated to the “Trash” folder and found its contents sparse but for a single file: a video from earlier this afternoon. With heavy hands, he opened it and pressed play.
 
“-boy, is this contest a close one!” the speaker boomed. “Number 14, show us whatcha got!”
 
The entire club rallied the second they caught sight of the teen titan. Youthful beauty uplifted by a figure wrought with enough indestructible sinew to turn diamond into dust, those lucky guys and gals feasted their eyes on her exquisite routine without shame. Dan couldn’t blame them. Despite dating for over two years and having seen her in skimpy outfits countless times, watching Michelle flaunt her assets in a bikini never got old. How could it? Every flex imprinted an uncountable array of rips and cuts onto her blemishless, taut skin, causing the swollen, vein-wrapped fibers to dance in perfect harmony.
 
Only a minute in, the fabric of his pants were starting to strain from his rising excitement. Her X-rated contours and the stunning tapestry of unadulterated muscle they were enveloped by flowed across the stage in a beautifully erotic display—an aphrodisiac for his senses. But even her towering biceps and rippling 10-pack were just the appetizers for the main course. Signaled by the unmistakable crackle of rapidly expanding flesh that was audible even over the din of an awestruck crowd, the zoomed-in image of his gorgeous muscle princess began to fill up with swathes of sun-kissed pec meat! Michelle’s hellish crab flex stretched her tiny top—which barely covered her own erect nipples to begin with—to its absolute limit as a mighty wall of all-beef bosom made its unstoppable advance. Her tits had ballooned into unassailable summits of feminine might, engulfing the entire screen in a perverse display of inhuman jack!
 
Dan groaned as he placed a hand on the outline of his bulging member as it threatened to tear his trousers in twain. The crowd cheered recklessly at the jaw-dropping sight; this young vixen had just made the 13 other ladies look like paupers! With an uncompromisingly sexy performance like that, the prize would most certainly be in her hands in just a few moments. She would bask in the glow of admiration like she had so many times in the past, and Dan would get to say, “that’s my girl!” That’s how things should have ended and where the recording should have stopped. But it didn't: there were still three minutes left. With an apprehensive gulp, he let the video play on.
 
“Hey hey, calm down!” the DJ yelled. “Let’s not be rude now. You can have an encore once we’re done! We still have one more contestant!”
 
The camera panned out, his heart pounding for what—or rather, who—was next.
 
“Finally, number 15, come on down!”
 
The atmosphere gave him whiplash. In just a few fleeting seconds, the crowd slingshotted from a consensus of congratulatory cheers to shocked silence, then back to whooping and hollering again! Such was the effect the final contestant, that young sex bomb of a redhead, exerted on the entire club. That cocky grin on her gorgeously freckled face and the blazing sensual saunter of her endlessly long, freakishly muscular legs gripped everyone by the groin. He could feel his own wetness tainting his briefs, his conscience unable to tear his hungry eyes away from the screen. In fact, he was so spellbound by the crimson maiden that he didn't even notice the look of panic that painted over Michelle’s once confident demeanor while she was awkwardly ushered off stage. Yet, just like the crowd, he too had forgotten all about her.
 
With the camera solely focused on Heather, what followed was nothing short of pornographic. The way she lustily ran her hands over her pale legs—legs that easily matched his previously peerless girlfriend’s in terms of size and definition—as she bent over like some top dollar stripper extracted a soft moan from his lips. Her ass bulged like a pair of bowling balls as she dipped her head down, granting her hips the insane muscular girth that made her comparatively dainty waist all the more provocative. But this was all just a teaser; Dan knew full well the promise of sin that lay underneath that jacket.
 
Right on cue, that goliath of a girl whipped her enormous body around and sent the top flying, exposing her raw sexual might for all to see. The sound quality plummeted as the noise from the crowd amped to deafening levels. For a brief moment, he recalled his surroundings in that club—not just the boisterous noise, but the reaction from Michelle’s closest confidants standing beside him. He felt their uncomfortable silence, their mouths held back in solidarity for their comrade. Yet, their bodies did not lie. He saw the way they blushed, the way their nipples poked through their tops. If anyone had bothered to look his way, his tented shorts would have told a similar story of betrayal. The thought that this “little” girl—a girl who looked no older than Michelle—could turn her own friends on against their wills was driving him up the wall.
 
Heather let the whole room soak in her extraordinary figure for a few seconds, its constituents promptly realizing she was every bit as buff as her predecessor. However, the excessively erotic dance that followed would convey a much more titillating truth: she was much, much badder. She twirled across the stage with ballerina-like grace, all the while pumping up frightening mass. With every pose, she flirted with the audience, exuding enough bravado to have you believe she was a world famous show girl rather than some unknown teenager. As her arms launched a pair of gravity-defying peaks that could make mountains shudder, she bit her bottom lip in an achingly sexy pout. When she turned a standard ab crunch into a seductive belly dance that sent fist-sized bricks of beef cresting like ocean waves, she licked her lips and let the crowd know they were nothing more than prey. And while she bounced her porn-ready pecs up and down, engorging them with increasingly obscene levels of muscularity, Dan could have sworn she winked at him.
 
This was where he should have stopped. He should have controlled himself like the loyal boyfriend he had been for years. He should have deleted the video for his own sake and out of respect for Michelle. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood up, clumsily pulled his pants off, stumbled into the bathroom with phone in hand, and closed the door.
 
********
*knock knock knock* Three gentle thumps echoed into an expansive suite. The interior was dark and still but for a few lit candles and a man, chiseled in build and face, who sat up from the chair to greet his guest of honor. His gait was one of anxiety, a stark contrast to his ruggedly handsome features which, along with his salt-and-pepper hair, spoke of someone who wasn’t quite done with his best years. A few metallic clinks and the locks were undone. The moment the oaken door swung open, he was faced with a mammoth figure that eclipsed the moonlight, casting a shadow that engulfed him completely.
 
The man stood in silence and awe, his jaw slack as nary a word escaped his mouth. The imposing woman in the doorway simply smiled before letting herself in without an ounce of protest, the clicking of heels following her all the way to the sofa.
 
Sitting down, the wood creaked as the cushions bore the brunt of mass it was never meant to handle. She picked up one of the two wine glasses placed purposefully on the table, swilled the dark ruby liquid around, and took a slow whiff. “Pinot noir,” she spoke at last, her voice airing a smooth huskiness. “What’s the occasion?”
 
With the initial shock starting to wear off, the man regained some measure of control over his own body. He shook his head, chuckling and quietly cursing himself for his awkwardness. After switching on the soft light of the chandelier and turning around, he braced himself this time, erecting a mental wall to better prepare himself for the maddening marvel before him. Even so, he was still a man. And like any man with even a single straight bone in his body, he stared, and gawked, and ogled.
 
The woman stood back up and smirked almost expectantly, letting him drink her up like the wine he had so carefully poured. And drink he did. She was as gorgeous as he had ever seen, her kind face seemingly untouched by the corroding hands of time. Her supple skin was blemishless while her green eyes shone like brilliant emeralds. Luscious waves of hazelnut hair framed her elegant visage and complimented her welcoming glow. That, however, was where her soft, motherly features ended.
 
Just below her chin was a long bull’s neck so jam-packed with columns of shredded muscle that her little black choker looked ready to snap at any minute. Her nape was flanked by a pair of cobra-like traps that were so thick and taut they were practically nibbling at her earlobes. Yet, nothing compared to the emasculating jack of her otherworldly torso, which itself was accentuated by a racy black dress that had its neckline plunging all the way to her navel.
 
Good fucking god, was all the man could think as his eyes wandered about the cavernous expanse of flesh that made up her tremendous bosom. Two granite slabs of pec muscle, totally saturated by shelves upon shelves of matronly beef, and the two erect nipples that crowned them pushed the dress so far out that it bordered on pornographic—the black fabric could barely cover her areolas, let alone hide any cleavage! But the fun, fortunately, did not stop there.
 
Like an arrow, the open V of her dress naturally dragged his vision downward. Across rows and rows of abs he went, her egregiously provocative outfit affording a full view of six of those harder-than-steel blocks of flesh that left her cute little dimple of a belly button drowning in a literal sea of muscle. Farther below that incredibly sexy and—compared to the rest of her beastly proportions—slim waistline, her hips flared into very wide, very womanly hips that were, like the rest of her, filled to the brim with pure power. A single gash ran down the bottom half of the dress, allowing an astonishing feast of mouthwatering thigh meat to spill out.
 
When his eyes finally ate their fill, he uttered, “I don’t know what you want me to say... Sharon, you look…”
 
“Hot?” she finished his thought for him, a single eyebrow raised.
 
“Ha! That doesn’t even begin to describe you.”
 
“Mmm, always the sweet talker, aren’t you?” she simmered.
 
“I’ve missed you,” he sighed.
 
Sharon relaxed her mighty shoulders, her guard eroded by a wave of nostalgia. “I’ve missed you too, Rick.”
 
The pair embraced for the first time in years. Rick closed his eyes, his senses temporarily overwhelmed. The calming scent of her floral perfume, the touch of her strong yet tender hands—memories of a bygone era came flooding back. To his surprise, even her pecs, now decades out from her bodybuilding prime, were somehow just as diamond-hard as he had remembered them, like they could crush his chest into powder with nary a twitch. He could sense the bulging contours and the legion of finger-deep grooves running criss-cross through the fabric of his shirt; they felt every bit as shredded as they looked. Was it just his imagination?
 
Before he could wonder any longer, Sharon pulled away, leading Rick by hand back to the couch. “So, how long has this wine been sitting out?”
 
“Maybe 15 minutes?”
 
“Ah, so you finally learned to let it breathe, huh?”
 
“Yeah, it only took a few years away from a snob to get it right!”
 
“Is that so? Well, I must say… nothing gets a girl going more than a man who remembers what she likes,” she chuckled.
 
The former couple laughed together about old times and caught up on the years they had spent apart. They first met at Sharon’s very first Miss America contest. Back then, Rick was one of the American Bodybuilding Association’s principal judges and, like many others in the crowd that day, he fell in love with her. It wasn’t long after that that they entered into what was, at the time, a clandestine relationship, one that ultimately led to some… complications. But all that was ancient history. Now retired from the competitive scene, Rick had dedicated himself to his wholesale supplement business. And with bodybuilding as popular as ever, business was booming. Sharon too had been doing quite well for herself since leaving the bright lights of bodybuilding. She had traded bikini tops for oven mitts not long after Michelle was born and had opened a now quite successful chain of bakeries.
 
“Gosh, I don’t know how you find the time to develop all those recipes while hitting the gym so damn hard.” Rick waved his hand, motioning at an obviously well-kept body that seemed to defy her status as an aging idol.
 
“Oh, this?” Sharon swung her head back and forth a couple times before settling her gaze across a rather hefty right arm. With the most casual of flexes, a bountiful ball of muscle climbed nearly all the way up to her wrist, allowing her long fingers to grope the majestic peak with little effort. “Just wanted to keep in shape.”
 
Rick nearly spit out his wine. “Wow, just for me?”
 
“As if. You wish you were that special!” she joked, caressing the mountain of matronly flesh a few more times before relaxing. “No, I did this for me. I… didn’t want to lose something special, that’s all.”
 
“That would have been a real shame…” His voice trailed. In her prime, Sharon was easily one of the most beautiful and muscular women in the entire country. She was all over magazines, billboards, and TV commercials—a sexual fantasy to millions of men and women around the world. And despite the fact that bodybuilders have continued to grow and grow with time, expanding the horizons of what was humanly possible, in her heyday, she could have held her own even against these modern pros. Sadly, that was decades ago. The woman in front of him now appeared to be a fraction of what once was—at least, in size. She was still as dazzling as ever and, if anything, seemed to have become only more elegant and dignified as time passed.
 


“What about Michelle?” he continued. “She must be finishing up high school soon, right?”
 
“Yes, just a couple months away from graduation!”
 
“Grew up fast, didn’t she? Last time I saw her, she was just a little girl. Has she figured out what she wants to do with her life?”
 
“Well, she has certainly done a ton of growing… So much so that she’s going into bodybuilding!” she announced proudly.
 
“Wow, good for her! She wants to be just like her mama, huh?”
 
“I will admit I did badger her a bit when she was younger. Thankfully, she fell in love with the weights after only a few months. Hasn’t let go of them since!”
 
“Sounds like a Williams’ alright. Where’s she going after high school?”
 
“Funny you ask that. The day I called you about putting this cruise together… That was the day she got accepted into the National College of Bodybuilding!”
 
Rick’s eyes lit up. “What?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Like, the day of?”
 
“I wanted it to be a surprise!”
 
“Well, my deepest congratulations to her…” Rick refreshed both of their glasses with more wine and toasted, “And to you!”
 
The two clinked glasses. “Gosh,” Rick added, “You know, I remember when you first had her, you told me you were worried about whether or not you’d be a good mother. Well, I think your question has been answered with a resounding ‘hell yes!’”
 
Sharon blushed. “Thanks, Rick. If there’s any one thing I can be truly proud of in my life, I’m glad I can say it’s her.”
 
“Certainly helps that she got the lion’s share of her genes from you. I bet she’ll be wrestling for Miss America in no time!”
 
“Her muscles, maybe. But, with how many awful choices I’ve made throughout my life, I just hope she didn’t pick up my decision-making.”
 
“Sharon,” Rick touched her hand gently, “You can’t still be this hard on yourself.”
 
“Of course I can! I’m 46 years old. I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on all the things I did right and everything else that I’ve messed up.”
 
“Yeah, but… you still have to forgive yourself.”
 
She shook her head. “I’m not here to forget about the past. I’m here because I have to try and make up for what I did,” Sharon paused and put down her drink. “To you.”
 
“Sharon, what are you-”
 
“Why do you think I’m here?” she interrupted. “I’ll give you a hint: it’s not just to celebrate my daughter’s achievement.”
 
“I…”
 
“Rick… This last year, I realized that I’m still… I’m still crazy about you. I couldn’t just let that go. That’s why I’m here.”
 
Rick cleared his throat *** “Well, I hope you didn’t come all this way just to apologize. I’ve told you before: you’ve got nothing to be sorry about. You had to raise your daughter and, not to mention, run an entire business. It was too much for me to-”
 
“No, Rick. I lied to you. It had nothing to do with what I could or could not handle. I was just scared I would fall into old habits and hurt you. And like so many other things I was unsure of, I ran away instead of trying.” With a few healthy gulps, Sharon picked up and polished off her glass, then grabbed both his hands before continuing, “But I’m tired of running. I needed to get this off my chest and tell you the truth.”
 
“Sharon, I-”
 
“Wait, I’m not finished,” she cut him off again. “After everything I’ve done and all that I’ve said, I know I have no right to ask you to pick up where we left off. But… nothing would make me happier than to be with you again.”
 
Rick was silent.
 
“You don’t have to answer right away. After all, you don’t owe me a damn thing. Take your time, think it through. Whether it’s yes or no, I just want you to be honest with me and with yourself.”
 
“Sharon,” he sighed, “When you called me, I wasn’t sure what to think. I mean, I hadn’t heard from you in so damn long. But that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about our past, about all the experiences we’ve shared. I knew you wouldn’t have asked me to come here without a damn good reason, and I was so excited about what that might be that I couldn’t sleep for days!” He leaned in close and spoke the words he had been hoping to tell her for years, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that my answer is yes. I want to be with you again.”
 
“Rick, think carefully about this. You’re in your 40s and you deserve to be with someone you’ll have no regrets with for the rest of your life. Are you sure that-”
 
“Yes,” he asserted. “I’m sure. I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever since you left. It doesn’t matter if you ask me today, tomorrow, or in ten more years, my answer will always be yes.
 
“Oh, Rick,” Her eyes teared up as she embraced him once again. He melted into her arms. The scenario he had dreamed of from the day she reached out was indeed coming true, and he didn’t want to let go. “Michelle’s going to be so happy to hear this,” she whispered.
 
Wiping his own eyes and leaning back, “Does she even remember me?”
 
“Of course! She still asks ‘where’s uncle Rick?’”
 
“Bull!”
 
“I’m serious! She misses you and now I don’t have to lie to her. Actually, why don’t we get lunch tomorrow? Just the three of us?”
 
Rick smiled. To think after all these years that they would be a family again, it took a lot of resolve to stop himself from bawling like a baby. “I’d love that.”
 
“Great!”
 
Then, for a moment, there was silence. The newly reformed couple took some time to just look at each other warmly. Without a word, they wondered if they could really rekindle their romance, how this would impact both of their lives, and where things would take them next. Regardless of how it would play out, for now, they were just happy to be in each other’s presence.
 
“Well,” Sharon cleared her throat, “Guess I brought this dress for nothing.”
 
“What, why? It’s perfect for our night out! The dealer’s not gonna notice a little card counting with you at the table!”
 
“You really thought I’d wear this just to take you to the casino?” she chuckled, plucking her earrings off and placing them on the table.
 
“Y-yeah?”
 
“Oh, Rick. Always the gentleman.” she sneered, the warmth in her voice subliming into an ice-cold timbre. “I brought this in case you said ‘no.’” Sharon then slowly leaned in close enough to let her colossal chest press against his. “But now I don’t need it anymore,” she breathed sensually into his ear.
 
Every hair on Rick’s body sprang up and stood at full attention. Sharon rose from the couch and peeled the satin cloth off her forearms like a cover off a luxury car, revealing a stunning array of muscle fibers fluttering in the warm candlelight. With a smirk, she tossed them into Rick’s lap and kicked her heels across the room without a second thought. Her beautiful, well-manicured feet stalked across the hardwood, each authoritative step causing the planks to creak with strain. She stopped in front of the full length mirror behind the seat and, for a moment, lingered. She admired her own reflection in silence, grinning to herself. Rick gulped. He could feel the harsh thud of his heart crashing against his ribcage as he dragged his eyes all over Sharon’s nearly bare, outrageously sculpted back. There were a thousand and one ways this could end, and every part of him, down to the very essence of his soul, was dying from suspense.
 
“I’ve been waiting months for this,” she spoke in a longing, hushed tone. Sharon undid the buckle on her choker, held it out pinched between two fingers, and simply let it clank onto the floor. She then dug her hands beneath the criss-crossed spaghetti straps, gathered them into bundles with each hand, and pulled them over her head. Rick’s pants tightened in response.
 
Sharon then pulled the shoulder straps down by walking her hands lazily across the craggy terrace of her protruding pectoral shelf. When those straps eventually crossed the horizon, she let them fall to the side at once. “Oh my,” she uttered, lust oozing from her lips. Rick’s ears were pounding. Her reflection obscured, his manhood urged him towards a better view, but his mind knew better than to sneak a peek out of turn. Sharon hooked her thumbs underneath the waist of the dress, which was still clasped firmly to her matronly hips. Gently, she stretched the fabric out and over the crest of her pelvis, and bent over.
 
Like a dire wolf, Rick’s sex rose with the moon, his impressive package deforming his trousers with wanton desire. Sharon’s behind may not have had the volume it once did, but magnificently sculpted it was still. The deep grooves that ran across each perfectly-molded glute sprang into view one by one, the achingly slow reveal taking literal years off his life. He wanted nothing more than to bury his face into her bakery, even if it meant getting his skull caved in by all that indestructibly hard cake.
 
Lower and lower the dress went, the black curtains conceding to the boundless tide of her pearly skin. Cords of muscle as thick as organ pipes spilled out from her hamstrings, quads, and calves as it made its final descent. Before Rick could fully process, she had stripped the outfit off entirely, and beneath it was… nothing at all. She was naked—buck naked. Sharon had gone commando!
 
“I wish I could show you the faces of the men and women on the deck as I walked by,” she teased, straightening up and facing Rick. Her voice carried a titallating, sexual command as she laid bare her flawless, nude figure for him to witness. His chest was tightening; it was getting hard to breathe.
 
“I wonder if they knew I had left my undies at home.” Sharon confidently strode forward. “What do you think they would have done if I had told them?”
 
Rick gulped, the typhoon of emotions and hormones swirling in his blood paralyzing his vocal cords. Still sitting down, he couldn’t even see her face, just two gargantuan mammaries hanging over him.
 
“Answer me,” she ordered, inching her protruding chest closer and letting the anxious man feel the oppressive heat it radiated.
 
“Th-they… They w-would have worshiped you!” he blurted.
 
“Well then,” she purred, turning back around. “Get to it.”
 
He didn’t need to be told twice. His face contorted with shameless excitement, much like a teenager who had just gotten his hands on his older brother’s secret porn stash, as he sprang up and skipped around the couch. He carefully extended both of his trembling hands towards her granite-cut physique, desperate to get a feel of the rippling hard flesh that had ignited his passions all those years ago.
 
Yet, the moment his fingertips touched her skin, Rick paused. The velvety soft and supple texture he had grown so fond of was… gone. Rampant giddiness and desire rapidly deteriorated into confusion, the object of all his fantasies apparently wrapped in something alien—and somehow simultaneously uncanny—to his senses.
 
“Something wrong?” she asked innocently.
 
His hands bumbled about, grasping nonplussed as he struggled to comprehend this sensation. “W-what is this?”
 
“Really? A few years out of the game and you’ve already forgotten what it feels like?” she answered with a toothy grin.
 
No… His mind refused to believe what his touch was telling him.
 
“Fine. Then let’s jog your memory.” Sharon extended her arm and tapped her wrist twice. Suddenly, her skin from neck down began to shift and shimmer as if by some physics-defying act the light around it was being warped by the very gravity of her muscles! The reality Rick had rejected was quickly becoming undeniable, and while the truth was much more pedestrian in nature, it seemed just as impossible.
GDF-8 @ DA

K+ if you liked the story!

Offline Wookey

  • Full Member
  • ***
  • Posts: 609
  • Activity:
    13.33%
  • KARMA: 152
  • Female Bodybuilding, Physique, Fitness, Figure & Bikini
Re: A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
« Reply #14 on: June 21, 2022, 11:15:36 pm »
Sensational. Great cliffhanger K+

Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  A Bodybuilder's Tale - Remastered
 

gfxgfx
Forum Saradas does not host any files on its own servers.
gfx
It only points to various links on the Internet that already exist.
It is recommended to buy Original Video, CD, DVD's and pictures only.
gfx
Mobile View