Built: Making the Most Muscular Woman

[taoschild]

Built: Has been re-edited and re-released and is on sale for 33% off You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
Here is a scene when Andrew goes to London to have a session--- and then another.

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It was the first time anyone had ever picked me up at the airport holding a sign with my name on it. And the woman holding it wasn't just anyone. I'd been low-key terrified that the "recent picture" she'd sent would turn out to be Photoshopped, ten years old, or both. She didn't disappoint. Not even a little.

In the middle of hundreds of tired travelers of every shape and size, Raisa stood out like a neon sign in a blackout. She wore red-and-white striped leggings featuring a cartoonish muscular Wonder Woman breaking free of chains. She was as subtle as a sledgehammer. Her upper body was poured into a cutoff white tank top that revealed a carved six-pack so deep the shadows made it look like she'd painted the lines on with a Sharpie. She wasn't quite as massive as Sandy had been, but she was absolutely gorgeous, and she hadn't lied about her conditioning for a second.

From the top of the long escalator I just stood there, staring, letting the delicious realization wash over me: this was the experience I was about to have. This hard, confident woman was unapologetically jacked and was about to be mine for the night.

Her rounded shoulders and thick upper pecs strained against the thin fabric of her top. A very non-British golden tan glowed on every inch of exposed skin, and her platinum blonde hair paired with striking blue eyes made her look like she'd wandered off a California beach and accidentally landed in drizzly London. If my actual girlfriend had shown up at an airport dressed like this, I would have been mortified. But knowing this was a one-off, no-strings transaction? I laughed under my breath and secretly reveled in the stares we were both getting.

I walked straight up to her and pulled her into a big, overly familiar hug like we'd been best friends for years. The second my arms registered how hard she was—solid, unyielding muscle everywhere I touched—my body reacted instantly. I started getting hard right there in the arrivals hall. She returned the hug with surprising force, then leaned in and whispered hot against my ear, "You'll be mine soon."

My cock twitched hard enough that I was pretty sure she felt it.

We got to the hotel she'd chosen for me—perfectly calibrated to my budget, Tube access, and, crucially, the quality of the gym where she planned to "pump up" for our session. As I headed to check in, she reminded me to text her the room number and disappeared straight toward the weight room. Apparently she'd been here before, had some workaround for gym access, and wanted to get a head start on swelling those muscles even bigger for me.

When I got my key, I texted her. Seconds later my phone buzzed with her reply: a close-up shot of the top of her pecs, cleavage carved like marble. She was an escort, but the confidence radiating off her made me a little nervous. A little afraid, honestly. And a lot excited.

I was still staring at the photo like a teenager who'd just discovered porn when the elevator dinged and the biggest woman I'd ever seen stepped up beside me.

I did a cartoonish double take. She was nearly my height, easily north of two hundred pounds, and absolutely rippling with thick, dense muscle. She wasn't in contest shape—there was a layer of softness over the power—but it didn't matter one bit. She dwarfed even Sandy. My breath went shallow. I could feel my pulse hammering in my neck like I'd just sprinted a flight of stairs.

Trying to play it cool, I pretended to keep scrolling on my phone while I drank her in. A pink bandana barely contained her long, jet-black curly ringlets. Her face was angular, strong, not conventionally pretty but undeniably striking. A white short-sleeve button-down shirt was losing the war against her enormous fake breasts and even bigger shoulders, ending abruptly at her midriff. Below that, a short black skirt with a chain belt and three-inch heels completed the look. She was clearly here for a session.

Jesus, I thought. Is this hotel some kind of secret female muscle mecca?

When the elevator doors opened, I politely gestured for her to go first. To my eternal chagrin, she stepped back almost as far as I was, making it impossible to ogle her without getting caught. She leaned forward and punched the button for floor 13. The thick vein running down her pointer finger traced a dramatic path across her forearm, up into her massive bicep, and disappeared into the cap of her shoulder like a roadmap of pure power.

I swallowed hard, suddenly, embarrassingly aware of how desperately I wanted or I should say needed— to feel that kind of strength wrapped around me.

She looked back at me. "You?" I was befuddled, my brain fogged with desire. God, I liked British accents. Beads of sweat appeared above my lip and the elevator felt steamy hot. She was simply a maze of muscle from head to toe. What did she want? Why was I here again? She repeated her question so that the simpleton which I'd been reduced to could understand, "What floor?"

Speak man, speak. "Um, me too." I was breathing so fast by this point I thought seriously that I might hyperventilate. My body wasn't working properly as it was surrounded by a work of art so beautiful and statuesque that I was entranced. As the elevator accelerated, she began pressing her palms together as if praying and pushing them hard against each other. I couldn't see over her massive traps, so I maneuvered to look over her colossal shoulders which had three expressways of lines separating the massive muscles.

My gaze fell on her pec muscles contracting with her efforts and her triceps flaring while fighting with each other to create the friction for her pecs. I squeezed my legs together in a futile effort to appease my manhood hoping the jeans would hitch around my tool which ached to be stroked.

Suddenly, the elevator halted, and the door slid open with a creak. We peered at each other briefly, trying to figure out who was going to let who go first. My feet were glued to the floor like they were stuck in wet cement, so I wasn't moving. She smiled at me like I was a lost little girl while I just stood there, dumbfounded by her sheer size.

Realizing I was clearly too overwhelmed to function, she decided to walk out first. I shivered with every step she took as her powerful calf muscles clenched hard, a thick line forming and then swelling with the angle of each stride. When she reached the doors she turned back and looked at me. The elevator doors started to close, but she batted them aside like they were annoying gnats against the enormity of her muscles. In the process, she flashed thick, horseshoe-shaped triceps that ballooned out from her arm. Male bodybuilders at the gym would've killed for arms like hers. At least 17 inches. I was still frozen in place, completely brain-dead.

"Are you going to get off?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

I'm already getting off just looking at you, I thought crudely, my mind immediately diving into the gutter. It felt like a frog had taken up permanent residence in my throat. My voice had officially quit. Respond, you idiot, my brain screamed, but my mouth refused to cooperate.

Finally, I snapped out of it. "Y-yeah... thanks for waking me up."

[taoschild]

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[taoschild]

"Are you okay?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I think so," I managed. "I just... kind of spaced out. I've been on a plane all day."

"Yeah, that can take a lot out of you," she said, her voice deep and commanding. She was clearly using, but at that moment I didn't care. I would've let her use me as a bench press if she asked. She turned and started walking down the hall. Instead of pushing my floor, I stepped out and followed her, trying and failing, to keep a respectful distance. I walked behind her for a few steps, shamelessly admiring the flawless, powerful curves of her body until she suddenly stopped. I froze, staring right at her like a deer in headlights.

In a deep, low voice she asked, "What's your room number?"

"Um... why?" was the brilliant response I came up with.

"I just thought you might be following me," she said with a smirk. "Would you like my business card? I might be mistaken, but I think you might like these."

She hit a most muscular pose with a confident smile that nearly short-circuited my brain. Her long, loopy earrings dangled almost down to the thickest traps I'd ever seen. Her shoulders were the size of soccer balls, striated so deeply they looked like carved stone. Thick rivers of muscle ran across her pecs before disappearing under her massive breasts, which sat like heavy pillows atop mountains of raw power. A deep ravine split the center of her chest, interrupted only by thick, cable-like indentations.

I was completely floored.

She released the flex with a knowing grin. Yeah... It was that obvious. She reached up, gathered her long curly hair in her hands, and casually dropped into a front double bicep while running her fingers through her locks. Her arms peaked like softballs.

My jaw literally dropped. My whole body started shaking so badly I was sure she noticed. After a few pathetic seconds of speechless gaping, I finally croaked out, "Yes."

She smiled, pulled a card from a tiny pocket in her skirt, leaned in close, and whispered seductively, "It's three-fifty an hour. I will make it worth it."

With that she turned and walked away. I just stood there staring, no longer even pretending I wasn't completely obsessed. She knocked on a door, stepped inside, and was gone.

I'd never been so turned on in my life. I was a strong guy myself, but I knew without a doubt she could wipe the floor with me and the thought of her doing exactly that made my knees weak. Her confidence, her size, her raw power... I was hooked. I had to spend an evening with her.

Looking down at the card, I finally put a name to the goddess I'd just encountered: Loni Starr, massage therapist. Loni, I'll be seeing you soon, I thought.

I slipped the card into my wallet and tried not to get too excited about the beautiful, massively muscular woman I was about to see.

I finally made it to my room and my phone dinged. Another message from Raisa. This one was a video of her doing concentration curls downstairs. The way her arm pumped and the deep grunts she let out with every rep kept me rock hard. When the video ended, as hot as it was, I couldn't stop imagining how Loni's massive arm would look doing the same thing. Just the thought sent chills down my spine.

It was wild that this late in life I was finally admitting what really big, strong girls did to me in person. Loni wasn't even conventionally pretty in the face, and her massiveness broke every symmetry rule I used to chase. But none of that mattered. I was more turned on than I'd ever been. I kept visualizing her, touching myself, until there was a sudden knock on the door.

I yanked my hand out of my pants and rushed over. I'd changed shirts but was still half-unzipped and disheveled. As I fumbled with my buttons, I cursed myself for not jumping in the shower earlier.

The second I opened the door, her strong fingers clutched my shirt and shoved me backward onto the bed with ease. "Didn't I tell you to take a shower?" she growled, not wasting any time stepping fully into her dominant role. "I asked you a question, little man. Quit stammering and answer me."

My cock twitched hard at her tone. Lying on my back with my feet still dangling off the bed, I looked up at her towering over me, already feeling deliciously small and helpless.

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled. For some reason I still wasn't fully buying into the role play. Maybe it was because this felt too similar to my earlier session, or maybe it was because Loni's massive frame was still burned into my brain. Those thoughts vanished the instant her voice dropped into something darker, more confident, and deliciously mean.

"Oh, you're not getting out of doing my bidding that easily, little bitch," she purred. She shimmied higher up my body until her thick, powerful thighs wrapped around my neck like living steel cables. Then she squeezed.

Nothing I'd ever read prepared me for the raw, vise-like grip of solid muscle crushing my throat. For a terrifying, thrilling second I genuinely wondered if she could snap my neck without even trying. The pressure kept building, turning discomfort into something dizzyingly erotic. Just as black spots started dancing at the edge of my vision, she released me.

"Do you hear me, bitch?" she demanded, her voice dripping with authority.

"Yes," I gasped, surprised my voice box still worked. The squeeze had been painful... but fuck, it had also been intoxicating. I already knew I loved superior strength and teasing, but I hadn't realized how much the pure physical threat of a muscle goddess could turn me on. Would real pain do it for me too?

I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.

[taoschild]

Story doesn't seem to be interesting to anyone, and apparently PIV has hijacked this board, but I'll drop one more section in case you were reading and hoping for more: If you're looking for more still go ahead and check out Built: Making the Most Muscular Woman which is on sale on Amazon for 33% off through the end of the month, You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

I didn't get long to wonder. She suddenly bounced off me with explosive athleticism, landing lightly on her feet like it was nothing. I stared up at her in pure awe.

"Woah... you're so fucking athletic," I breathed.

"Oh, that?" she said casually, turning away from me. "Gymnastics background. That's why I do fitness." She bent over slowly to peel off her skin-tight leggings, giving me an unobstructed view of her spectacular ass and thick, rounded hamstrings. Her glutes had this insane extra shelf of muscle on top. They were pure, striated power stacked on even more power. It was like a living sculpture of raw female strength, and I needed to worship every inch of it.

I swallowed hard and tried to sound normal. "You have the most amazing ass I've ever seen. It's literally muscle on top of muscle."

She laughed softly, still bent over. "It takes thousands of heavy deadlifts to build an ass like this, little boy. Top-end sets that would crush a skinny weakling like you. I bet you don't even know what a real deadlift feels like."

The casual insult hit me right in the dick. I started throbbing visibly. She was probably right — I had no clue what her "top-end" even meant. My own lifts suddenly felt pathetic in comparison.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered. "You're going to massage me, and I don't want those rough jeans scratching my perfect tush."

I scrambled off the bed and started stripping like a nervous schoolboy while she seductively finished undressing. She peeled back the covers and lay face-down, presenting the most perfect, symmetrical physique I'd ever seen. She had to be one of the top fitness competitors in the world. Her huge, striated glutes tapered into an impossibly tiny waist that flared out into a dramatic V-taper. Her lats were thick wings that flowed perfectly into cannonball shoulders and arms carved with deep, feminine muscle. She was deeply tanned, fresh off a contest stage by the look of it.

"The oil's over there," she said, pointing lazily. "Pour it on nice and thick. And don't be shy."

I froze for a second, suddenly self-conscious about being completely naked in front of this goddess.

She didn't even look back at me. "You flew all the way here to get dominated, so don't make me hurt you more than I already plan to. I've seen your scrawny little body — you wouldn't last ten seconds against me."

Her casual put-down sent another hot rush straight to my cock. I squeezed oil into my palm. The ridiculous squirting sound made both of us laugh and cut some of the tension. I warmed my hands and started working on her back, sinking my fingers deep into the dense, rippling muscle. Every inch of her felt harder and more defined than anything I'd ever touched. As I dug in, she coyly flexed and made her back muscles dance and roll under my hands, letting out low, seductive groans.

"Push harder," she demanded. "Put your pathetic little shoulders into it."

Straddling her was the only way to get real leverage. I climbed over her perfect, rock-hard ass and really leaned in. "That's much better," she cooed, her voice thick with pleasure. "Maybe you're not a complete wimp after all... though we both know I could still break you in half whenever I feel like it."

She stretched her arms above her head. The move highlighted her glorious shoulders and the short muscle bellies that revealed a peaked bicep even when she wasn't flexing. My manhood throbbed as I looped my hands over her shoulders and began fondling her biceps. As I reached upward, my hard cock grazed her butt and it felt so good I began to grind it against her. Without warning, she flipped me off of her in one smooth, surprising movement and announced, "Did I say you had permission?" She grabbed my cock and squeezed hard.

I acquiesced immediately, "I'm so sorry. It was an accident." Her pressure level increased to the point it began to hurt. She had such power in a body that wasn't nearly the size of Sandy's that I was in awe. "What, what do you want," I said partially because I was worried that she might do some damage and partially because I wanted to please her. She released her grip a little and put her flexed bicep around my cock.

"You know I can give you great pleasure," she enticingly licked her bicep and grazed the tip of my penis with her arm. Glorious fireworks erupted within me, and I groaned in ecstasy. She began squeezing and releasing my cock seductively as she sucked her bicep. She hardened her bicep and then released the flex over and over again as I watched her mountain of muscle inflate and resume its full glory.

Holy shit, I thought, I used to get hard just scrolling past fitness girls on Insta****. Now I'm one flex away from blowing my load because a woman's arm is bigger than my thigh. Real mature, dude.

[taoschild]

Had a request to continue this one, so here's a little more from Built: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
-----
Just as I thought I'd spodie all over the place, she released her grasp on my member and stopped flexing, stating "But you need to take care of me first." She gripped my cock uncomfortably with force once again as if to make the point through my pain. I groaned both from the desire to release and the infliction of pain, but she ignored me. "You have to win back my good graces," she notified me as she moved me forcefully diagonally across the bed face up. She bent down with little notice and sat on my face.

"Eat me," was all that she said. I was so startled by her demand that as turned on as I was in the moment, I was a bit conflicted too. Briefly I considered telling her no. I didn't know her at all—could there be any issues? Those thoughts swept down the river of regret though as the passion overwhelmed me. She told me exactly how she wanted it, and I followed her every request like she was the control tower and I was a pilot. Suck here, nibble there, tongue hard—whatever she wanted. I geared her up to the point I knew she'd come and then just as I thought she'd go over the edge, she leaned back and scissored me.

Mattie had played around with scissoring me but had always been afraid to go all out. I urged her every time to squeeze harder, but she feared hurting me. Raisa had no such qualms. Her pressure increased and I saw some stars as my oxygen slowly waned. Finally, I realized through the pain and titillation that I was in danger of passing out and began squirming and giving the tap-out signal with true alarm. Just as I feared real trouble, she released me. She'd proved her dominance and was ready to move on.

I hadn't done much wrestling with Mattie, but we'd played at it a little. I soon found what a little more serious wrestling was like. Freed from her grip, I watched as she maneuvered herself on all fours and stared down on me. "Hmm. Let's see. What should I do with you next?"

"Whatever you want," I quipped, meaning every word.

"I want to own you physically." She smiled greedily, "Let's wrestle." She got up and looked around. "Push the bed over there and we'll have more room on the floor."

"Okay, let me get the table first."

"No, I got it." She lifted the table and her arms bulged as did her back muscles until she put it down in the corner. I stared at her in awe. Goddamn. One casual lift and I'm throbbing again. I really am just a simple muscle slut with a pulse. She cocked her head, "Didn't I tell you to move the bed? You're not going to be able to ignore me after I whip your ass."

"Lick my ass?" I joked.

She smiled. Clearly, she was enjoying the jesting almost as much as the put-downs. "You're going to pay for that shortly. Now let's move the bed and create some space." We moved the bed and created the needed space. "Now, the rules. No punching, no biting, and no hair pulling."

"That's all? I don't even know the rules of wrestling in general. I just need to put your shoulders down for three seconds, right?"

"Yeah, but the way I play, you can be pinned or give up by tapping the floor. Otherwise, we just keep going."

"Sounds fair, I guess. I already got some practice at that on the bed," I quipped.

She walked over and grabbed a tight-fitting and partially see-through black cami. "You're going to get a lot more now, but first you'd better put some underwear on. This can be a little more painful than you think, and I'm not going to take it easy on you," she fired back.

She stood there eyeing me with her hands on her hips, commanding attention and conveying complete dominance. When I found my underwear and put it on, she signaled she was ready as she bent low and started to circle me as if eyeing her prey. I had no idea what I was doing so I tried to mirror her movements. She lunged at me, and I withdrew while she laughed.

"What?" I questioned.

"You're cute. This is going to be fun." She grabbed my shoulders and pushed my head down somehow and I latched onto her shoulders in self-defense. With my head pushed down I saw the power and definition of her legs. Suddenly, with lightning speed they tensed, and I was sent smashing into the floor. I saw stars and she hesitated momentarily asking if I was okay. Feigning more pain than I actually felt, she came down next to me to check on me and I pounced on top of her. On all fours, I wrapped my body on top of hers hoping that my weight would make her buckle. Sure, I'd cheated a little, but I felt the determination and competition from sports in my youth overwhelm me once again. I wanted to win.

"Pretty sneaky," she said with mirth, "But I think that's cheating."

"What's cheating?" I told her with a look of complete innocence. My gloating was short-lived. She struggled to get up under my weight and somehow I continued to force her down. There was no way I'd ever get her shoulders down, but a tie was more than I'd hoped for when we began. My cock swelled with the close contact with her muscles and the intense body manipulations we were experiencing. She didn't fail to notice.

"I see you're enjoying this," she said as she moved her ass to caress my hard-on. I released just a little to allow her to rub harder against my manhood. She brought her elbows in and clamped my arms and then ducked her head and rolled me over onto my back and with great dexterity climbed on top of me. Before I knew what happened, she had wrapped her legs around me and clamped her ankles around mine.

She began driving me into the ground while slamming her chest into mine. I alternated between fear and desire with the new change in the situation. Later at dinner she explained that she put me into the 'classic grapevine position,' but at the time all I knew was that I was in deep trouble. It wasn't just that she understood how to wrestle better than I did, but she was much stronger than I had imagined.

She forced my arms behind my head and thrust her hips into me, grinding her pelvis into my manhood. The sexual tension was palpable and her hot breath against my neck with each of her exertions stimulated me further. I would have given in and enjoyed the experience, but the crushing pain from her firm grip led me to consider tapping out instead. Eventually, I gave in, and she clasped her hands together and placed them over her head on both sides proclaiming her championship status. I congratulated her and promptly asked for a rematch.

We decided to compete in a second round and oil ourselves up and go naked after putting down towels. When she took off her slip, I saw some red marks from our struggle evident on her firm pec muscles. She handed me the oil and had me rub it on her first.

[taoschild]

We decided to compete in a second round and oil ourselves up and go naked after putting down towels. When she took off her slip, I saw some red marks from our struggle evident on her firm pec muscles. She handed me the oil and had me rub it on her first.

I began by oiling her breasts which had been the focus of my attention since her clothes had come off. The firmness of her pecs combined with the soft mounds of breast tissue made me throb with desire. I circled her nipples with my fingers and then leaned into her and began suckling with my lips. Apparently, my fascination wasn't permitted. Lightning quick she circled her arm around and got me in some kind of choke hold.

"Did I say you had permission for that, slave?" She flipped me back down onto the floor with a thud and I was helpless until I managed to scissor both of my legs around one of hers, and lock her in place, or so I thought. I felt her quads expand and surge and begin to pulse against my cock.

She laughed, "I think I'm done with this." She moved like a cat, and I lost my grip and suddenly she was on top of me once again. "It's time to fuck."

Right there on the floor she startled me by gripping my shaft and thrusting it inside of her. Regaining composure after a gasp of delight I resumed my interrupted caressing of her breasts.

"You like those," she noted, as she rode me harder and harder. "I thought you were a muscle guy and would appreciate these." She flexed her biceps into a front double bicep pose. Her muscles tensed dramatically and each second that passed it seemed an additional vein began to emerge on her forearm and biceps. She repeated pumping and releasing her muscle again and again until I reached up to grab them in awe. She playfully batted my hand away and announced.

"You'll have to say please first."

"Please."

"I'll allow it when I allow it. For now, you may continue to caress my nipples."

Though every fiber of my being screamed to grab her perfect, peaked biceps, her unyielding dominance was an even stronger aphrodisiac. I obeyed, my fingers tracing slow, reverent circles around her thick, responsive nipples while my eyes drank in the impossible landscape of her body. Each breath she took made her chest swell against my palms, the striations in her pecs shifting like steel cables beneath velvet skin.

As she continued to rain down degrading names and delicious belittlement, something twisted and beautiful happened inside me. Instead of anger, a hot, helpless arousal flooded my veins. The part of me that wanted to resist was drowned out by the sheer, intoxicating force of her confidence and raw physical power. Her vascularity, the sheer size and sculpted perfection of every muscle, only amplified the feeling until I was drunk on it.

We were both far too wound up to last. In just a few frantic minutes, I groaned deeply and emptied myself inside her with a shuddering release. The moment my seed pulsed into her, it seemed to trigger her own climax. She arched her powerful neck, eyes rolling back, and her entire colossal body convulsed in rhythmic, unstoppable waves. The feeling of her massive muscles locking and quivering around me, squeezing me with unconscious strength, sent me spiraling even deeper into bliss.

When the last tremors finally faded, she surprised me by wrapping her thick, corded arms around my body in a warm, possessive embrace. Those enormous biceps—still pumped and vascular from our exertions—pressed against my back like living marble, yet the hold itself was unexpectedly tender. I melted into it completely, surrendering to the overwhelming contrast: the same arms that could crush me without effort were now cradling me with something that felt dangerously close to affection.

game, but after the torrent of raunchy, humiliating words, that powerful, muscular embrace felt like heaven. My face rested against the hard swell of her chest as a profound, almost euphoric peace settled over me. Every inch of her body radiated strength, and in that moment, I realized I was exactly where I belonged lost in the blissful, addictive grip of her overwhelming muscularity and power.

Perhaps it was only temporary, but boy the temporary was amazing.

[AndrewWrites]

Hey, dude! Long time no see. Is the re-edited version also on Smashwords?

[taoschild]

Hey Andrew -

It's been ages nice to hear from you - look me up on discord or email me through my wife's website - This is the new version - I've learned a thing or two about editing and formatting since I've started so I went back and fixed my first few books.

Take care,
-Richard