Video Voyeur

[taoschild]

Jak Cratocles and I completed Muscle and Domme a few months ago, but I thought I'd post one of the stories here (Video Voyeur) because it looks like it's been relatively light on new posts around here as of late. The book can be purchased at Amazon You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login , Smashwords You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login , and Apple Books if you're interested. Here is the first segment:
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I'm not entirely certain that the stars could ever align in such a remarkable manner, even given a million years. I mean, in spite of the fitness influencer revolution, the presence of muscular women in the world remains an exceedingly rare phenomenon, akin to encountering a mythical unicorn. And when we talk about women as muscular and impressive as Kymberly, the odds become even more astronomical – actually, even less than one in a billion. To put it in perspective, our planet is home to roughly eight billion people, and if we were to calculate, well, I do have a knack for numbers as a tax accountant, which means Kymberly stands as a singular entity amidst four billion others, and the notion of her residing in my very apartment building... well, that's a concept that's virtually inconceivable.
Now, if we add myself into this equation, the prospect of our paths ever crossing becomes a mathematical puzzle that would require nothing short of a slide rule to decipher. But I digress; my forte isn't in crafting eloquent prose, so let's get straight to the heart of the matter. Who exactly am I, who is Kymberly, and what transpired when our destinies converged?
Back in college, I was always the guy who simply went along with "the crew." In high school, I had been somewhat of a goody-two-shoes, but college served as my gateway into a world of revelry and youthful exuberance. My dormmates and I devoutly partook in weekend revelries, cultivating what one might call a modest beer gut in the process. My roommate and his buddies were all members of the baseball team, so despite our weekend indulgences, they remained impressively athletic. I dated a few studious, bookish girls, but nothing ever became truly serious. I know, I promised to cut to the chase; when did I first realize my deep-seated inclination towards muscular women?
An unforgettable day etched into my memory is January 6, 2019. At that time, the group of baseball players and I were sharing a house. I had just returned from winter break, climbed the stairs to my room, and unwittingly walked in on my roommate engrossed in an explicit video chat with a muscular woman. Her oiled, glistening body had transcended the boundaries of sheer magnitude. She proudly displayed her colossal, surgically enhanced breasts, but every other inch of her was built by hard work. Her imposing traps seamlessly merged into massive, rounded shoulders, forming an awe-inspiring silhouette of power and grace.  Her arms were adorned with thick, sinewy veins providing a network of strength that seemed to almost pulsate in her rounded biceps.
Indeed, muscles seemed to proliferate everywhere on her form. Her chiseled abdominal muscles led the way to an Adonis belt, which in turn pointed towards a robust protrusion she was fervently stimulating.

"You like this, don't you?" she cooed seductively.

I mouthed 'yes' but thankfully no sound escaped my lips.

"You'd love to wrap your warm, eager lips around my hot, throbbing clit, wouldn't you?" she continued.

"Mhmm," my roommate mumbled, completely unaware of my presence.

"You'd have to declare your unworthiness first," she chuckled in a deep voice. "Say it, baby!"

Mesmerized, but somehow realizing the awkwardness of the situation, I discreetly retreated from the room. I couldn't be certain whether he had noticed me or not, but neither of us ever discussed the incident. However, that moment had a profound impact on me. Although I never shared it with my roommate Steve, I, too, became captivated by the allure of muscular women.

[taoschild]

Part 2 of the set up from the short story, Video Voyeur, from Muscle and Domme: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login
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Following our graduation, Steve and I relocated to Las Vegas, settling into a modest two-bedroom house, a smart choice that allowed each of us to maintain our privacy. Our dwelling was conveniently close to the bustling strip for entertainment, yet just distant enough for some respite when needed. Fate took an unexpected turn when Steve attended the Olympic fitness expo one day and returned home late in the evening with an unexpected guest – Kymberly, a colossal female bodybuilder who embodied both my passion and my torment.

Kymberly was wearing a backless, shimmering blue sequined dress that clung to her imposing, finely chiseled muscles. Veins zig-zagged across her dark, evenly bronzed skin. With half her head shaved and long auburn hair cascading down her graceful back, she possessed a captivating fusion of Asian and Caucasian features, radiating unparalleled beauty. Her aura exuded an intensity of raw, primal sensuality that left me gnashing my teeth in envy.

“Hey George, this is Kymberly.” He’d never mentioned his obsession with muscular women, and he ignored it now. “She’ll be staying the night.”

“Okay,” I breathed, the words barely squeaking out.

“Hello George,” she smiled. Her voice was surprisingly lilty though deep, commanding, and confident.

“Um, hi. Welcome,” I managed.

"Charmed," she replied with a warm smile, and they stumbled past me towards his room. I all but bit my fist as she walked by, my eyes locked on her flawless physique as she moved gracefully towards his bedroom, the robust muscles rippling with each step. For hours, their passionate encounter echoed through the walls, their ecstatic cries serving as a relentless reminder of my silent fixation on her next door. Little did I know, this night marked the inception of countless evenings filled with unabashed passion, and a lot less sleep for me.

Within a mere eight weeks, at Steve's insistence, she had moved in, setting the stage for a complex and perplexing relationship between the three of us.

The routine became straightforward. Kymberly would dedicate her mornings to rigorous workouts, sculpting her formidable physique to new heights and throughout the day, she would train her clients. Yet, under the cloak of night, the real spectacle would unfold – the kind of intense, headboard-rattling passion that seemed to shake the very foundation of our home. Needless to say, I found myself getting precious little sleep and becoming a near insomniac.
Instead, my nights became consumed by vivid, almost cinematic, fantasies wherein I would envision her sinewy, bulging muscles enveloping Steve's body. Her continued transformation into a towering, muscular goddess only fueled my imagination further.

I envisioned flashes of her extraordinary muscles, like lightning strikes of sensuality amidst the shadows. Bulging biceps flexed with each passionate embrace, shoulders, once shapely, now boasted breathtaking proportions, their rounded curves and sinewy definition glistening in the soft, ambient light. My mind's eye traced the contours of her powerful legs, which had transformed into pillars of sheer strength, wrapping around Steve with an almost possessive embrace. In those stolen moments of fantasy, her body became a mesmerizing work of art and a torment for me as I glimpsed the tantalizing flashes of her muscular splendor in the light of day.

At first, I had hoped that with the passage of time, I might grow accustomed to having someone so exquisitely adorned with muscle sharing our living space. Yet, the opposite occurred; as Kymberly continued to grow in size and stature, my torment intensified.

The situation took a dramatic turn for what appeared to be the worst one fateful night when a heated, knock-down-drag-out verbal battle erupted between Steve and Kymberly. In the midst of the raging confrontation, it was Steve who, rather than Kymberly, who was forced to move out.

"I'm not moving my stuff out of here!" Kymberly thundered with a fiery determination. "You wanted me to move in, so I'm staying. Get the hell out of my house!" Her voice echoed through the walls as Steve hastily gathered what belongings he could, and the door slammed shut with a resounding finality just a few minutes later.

The following morning, the remainder of Steve's possessions were unceremoniously strewn across the lawn, signaling the end of his tenure in the house. I found myself with a new roommate, and I was in her house.

For a time, there was an uneasy awkward peace between us. We each did our own thing and that was it. I waved goodbye when she left at 6 am each morning and hello when her sweaty, lithe, vascular body returned three hours later. She arrived when I was eating breakfast as if on cue, so I made it for her one day as she liked it. Oatmeal, egg whites, a protein shake, and freshly brewed black coffee.

"Thank you, George, you're so sweet," she cooed, with a note of genuine appreciation as she gracefully lifted the first forkful of breakfast to her lips. Her right arm, already impressively muscular, came to life as it bent in a mesmerizing display of power and grace.

I was captivated by the sight. Her biceps, taut and well-defined, stood out prominently, and two robust veins traced a tantalizing path along their contours. These veins ran proudly from her sculpted deltoids down to her forearms, pulsating with life as they followed the curvatures of her magnificent muscles.

[taoschild]

The atmosphere was almost surreal. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle, golden hue over the room. Kymberly's muscularity, however, was the undeniable centerpiece of the scene. Her confident, broad grin illuminated the space. “What?” she finally asked as I stared, dumbfounded.

“Um,” I gulped. “It… it… It looks like you worked…worked…worked out…”

“Hard?” she grinned broadly. I nodded and she clenched her fists to cause the biceps to compress into the massive hard peaks of blood-filled tissue. The definition of her meticulously sculpted muscles was nothing short of awe-inspiring. “Yeah, I blasted my arms today.”Again, I felt speechless until she finished, “Would you like to give them a squeeze?”

Gulping audibly, I managed to squeak out a feeble, "Sure." You have no idea.

She dropped her fork, curled her arm, and squeezed her fist shut coaxing the muscles to rise higher. My probing fingers found a hardness that failed to yield.

“C’mon, George. It won't break. Give it a real squeeze,” she scoffed. I pressed down hard but instead of retracting under my clutch, the muscles climbed as she took her flex to the next level. The muscle filled with blood as engorged veins swam to the surface. Rather than retract, she encouraged me to hold on and flexed so hard her arm shook. Finally, she began pulsing the muscle and every cord of throbbing forged steel flesh danced with the movement.

“What do you think?” You don’t want to know, My unspoken thoughts echoed in my mind, as my fingers moved across the surface of her smooth, tightly stretched tanned skin which somehow held in the straining mound of muscle fiber beneath. The fetishistic sensuality of even the brief moment of muscle worship was intoxicating.

"Absolutely amazing," I replied, reluctantly withdrawing my fingers from her awe-inspiring muscles before my fingers held on embarrassingly long.

"Why thank you," she grinned, her eyes reflecting back a hint of mischief. Did she know the effect she had on me? "I work tirelessly to maintain them."

"You can definitely tell," I responded, with admiration ringing in my voice.

"They require plenty of protein," she remarked, taking a sizable gulp of her protein shake, leaving a tempting residue around her lips. Slowly, almost seductively, her long tongue swept across the rim, cleaning it off. "So, next time you make such a lovely meal for me, can you add chicken to the eggs?" She giggled, her playful tone adding to the allure of the request.

"Mhmm," I responded, barely registering my own words. From that day forward, I took it upon myself to craft breakfasts that catered to her protein needs and provided ample carbs for her energy. In the quiet corners of my mind, I began to entertain the notion that perhaps, in my own subtle way, I was helping to fan the flames of her muscularity. It was like a secret pact between the one who longed and the one who embodied that I stupidly though somehow bound us together, even as our relationship remained entirely that of friends.

Then came the Covid pandemic. What was initially intended as a temporary lockdown gradually extended into an extended period of cohabitation. While our relationship remained entirely platonic, the dynamics of our daily life underwent a profound shift.

With Kymberly's personal training business shifting to an online platform, our living room became home to her expansive array of workout equipment. She spent her mornings immersed in intense workouts, her afternoons dedicated to training clients virtually, and her evenings pursuing a new profession – webcams.

Under our new arrangement, I invariably made her breakfast and lunch and silently settled down to eat as she performed her workouts and virtual training. Inevitably, my gaze couldn't help but be drawn to her. The room was saturated with the hypnotic cadence of her breathing, each inhalation and exhalation a sensual symphony in itself. Soft, melodic grunts of exertion escaped her lips, adding an erotic undercurrent to the atmosphere.  Occasionally she'd even call me over to spot her.

Beads of sweat, like liquid diamonds, glistened on her flawless, sun-kissed skin, tracing the sensual curves and sinuous contours of her sculpted physique. Every droplet seemed to accentuate the allure of her muscled form.

Her muscles, bathed in the warm glow of exertion and the sinews tensed and released with each calculated movement. They moved with vitality and life, as she pumped and grew. It was a breathtaking display of sensuality and power, but sadly, I had to limit my time watching to avoid the inevitable discovery of my fetish.

In the afternoon, her voice resonated with a blend of professionalism as she guided her online client, discussing proper form with the expertise that only heightened her allure. Even that was deeply arousing.

In the evening, Kymberly would retreat to her room, close the door, and commence her online shows for a different kind of client. It was impossible for me not to hear her, and equally impossible not to be incredibly turned on by the unmistakable sounds that emanated from her room and the visions of her that I witnessed during the day. My productivity for online work plummeted, and I found myself falling head over heels in love with her body and her commanding presence.

Some men yearned to catch glimpses of her private parts, while others craved her sultry, commanding voice guiding them through fantasies. Then there were those who derived immense pleasure from watching her pump her incredible muscles. She seemed to effortlessly slip into a thousand different roles: the stern disciplinarian, the alluring dominatrix, the innocent schoolgirl, or simply the powerful, pumped-up woman—each character designed to exact a price–quite literally from her mesmerized patrons.

The sounds that emanated from her room became the very essence of my desire: the clinking of dumbbells, the commanding tones of her dominatrix role-play, the cries of ecstasy and submission, and the seductive cooing that promised both pleasure and pain. It was a mixture  of torment and ecstasy playing a different tune on the strings of my longing.

At times, my inner torment compelled me to approach her door, press my ear against it and strain to listen more closely as she greeted the men. In those moments, I would vividly imagine how she might flex and contort her rippling, muscular body to gratify their desires, all the while consumed by the fervent wish that it was me in her presence instead of them.

[taoschild]

Throughout the pandemic, she grew. Suspicious packages would arrive at the door and her bulking progressed at an entirely unnatural pace, but I didn’t care. The weights she wielded during her daily workouts became increasingly staggering, pushing the boundaries of what seemed possible. Her body moved with a sensuous grace, sweat adorning her glistening skin, and her grunts of effort that wee once soft and subdued, grew more primal and alluring. It was a bit humbling to be honest, but to me, she only got sexier as she grew.

 The image of her, bathed in glistening sweat and wholly devoted to her relentless quest for strength, held me in a ceaseless grip of fascination and desire. It reached a point where I simply couldn't resist any longer. Under the discreet guise of “Russell,” I ventured into her webcam world, immersing myself in intimate one-on-one sessions that extended for hours on end. After each encounter, I generously showered her with tips.

“What would you like me to do, Russell?” she asked the first time we went private. She was sitting on her black desk chair in a hot pink bikini. Whether intentionally, or just playing with me, she flexed her pecs. Mounds of muscle smashed together, creating a canyon that must have been 3 or 4 inches deep before parting. Rolling the muscle seductively, making it twitch with a simple clutch, fibers beneath her skin rippled up and down in a sexy rhythm. Her whole upper body was a road map of veins. The combination of femininity and muscularity was striking. I dropped my job, glad once again my camera was off.  “I’ll do anything except show my pussy,” she giggled. “If a guy can show his chest, I’m not afraid to either.”

Just talk, I typed back.

“What kind of talk?” she asked. “Maybe dirty talk or dominatrix talk? I can degrade you because you’re not strong like me or tease you.”

“I don’t know. Maybe just talk about why I’m so attracted to you and who you are and why you lift weights. I’m curious.”

She cocked her head in surprise. “I like to be strong. I was tiny when growing up and it always bothered me. I wanted to be noticed. I wanted to be big. And now,” she hit a monstrous double bicep pose. She struck a monumental double bicep pose and her muscles surged into a jaw-dropping display of power and size. The contours of her biceps were nothing short of mesmerizing, forming a perfect, sinewy curve that seamlessly flowed from her well-defined deltoids to her hyper vascular forearms.

She’s even bigger now, I thought.

Sadly, she dropped her pose and announced, “I’ve grown into nearly six feet of solid muscle.”

You’re amazing– and beautiful. I typed back.

“Thank you, hon. Now, what about you? Why do you think you like muscular women?”

 I really don’t know. I guess I’m weird.” My breath caught as I typed the words frustrated that I had brought myself so low as to pay to webcam with my housemate.

“Don’t say that Hon. Plenty of men like my muscle– more than are willing to say so. You’re showing some courage by admitting it.

Courage by staring at you like a voyeur and hiding my face– I think not. I’m just a skinny man who gets off on muscle women. I almost logged off in shame, but she stopped me.

“Hush sweetie. No negative self-talk allowed here, okay?”

Okay

“Plus, I like skinny men. Most are skinnier than me,” she chuckled, hitting a most muscular pose. Her nipples stung her bikini top enticingly while her entire upper body contracted furiously before me as if expressing her physical supremacy and reinforcing her order.

Okay, I reiterated, a smile finding its way to my face.

“Now, would you like me to do something for you? Maybe take off my top?” Yes, I thought, but that’s not what I said. Somehow the idea of respecting women, even when they were offering, was drilled into me. I couldn’t do it for pay. Somehow, it felt wrong even though I knew she made her living off of the money. But it wouldn’t be from me.

That first night we just talked about our hopes, dreams, and who we were. Surprisingly, she got pretty personal. Quickly, we developed a relationship built on trust that was so different than in our regular life.

It seemed to me that our rapport deepened at an astonishing rate, transcending the boundaries of the virtual realm. We became confidants in each other's desires, particularly mine sharing secrets, fantasies, and intimate moments. That bond only grew with successive sessions. As time passed, it became increasingly clear that our connection was something more profound but it was so hard to see her the next day and not reveal who I really was.

[taoschild]

I confided in her with secrets I had never shared with anyone else, baring the depths of my desires and vulnerabilities. It was within the safety of our online connection that I felt free to express the unspoken facets of my innermost desires. I told her how the concept of being dominated by a muscular woman wasn't merely alluring, but more akin to an intoxicating drug. It was a confession I had long kept locked away, hidden from the world.

I couldn't help but divulge the guilt that gnawed at me, how I wrestled with the feeling that I couldn't simply switch off this captivating allure, despite its hold over me. I told her how I felt horrible that I couldn’t turn it off.

Rather than avoiding the discussion, she consoled me like a therapist. She built me up and made me feel better.

I never asked her to take her clothes off. It almost felt like it would be a violation of our trust. Gradually, she began to tell me about her own thoughts, dreams, and hopes. She wanted to be Ms. Olympia, but she craved to be taken seriously and respected for more than her body. We listened to each other, and we felt a bond that was different than most. Unfortunately, I never had the courage to tell her who I was in the ‘real world.’

In the real world, I was growing more and more enamored– perhaps obsessed with Kymberly. Despite having been forced to leave the gym and workout at home she made gains. Amazing gains. I became obsessed with not only the aesthetic look of the monumental muscles she had developed but also addicted to the concept of her strength.

I was in pretty good shape and am nearly six feet tall, but her size gave the impression that she towered over me. She seemed to be carved out of stone and her physique exuded the notion of physical superiority over all who were around her. Perfectly sculpted muscles were highlighted by hulking traps, razor-cut rounded shoulders, huge, wing-like lats, cobblestone abdominals, and curvy yet tree trunk-sized legs.

When she started cutting for the Olympia, I was disappointed. She was so big and cut already. How much of the monument to perfect feminine muscle would she lose?

Yet as she grew weaker, we grew closer. I did all I could to help her. It was amazing to watch this behemoth woman as helpless as a kitten, but still, she worked like a plow horse lifting weights. I started to spot her to make sure she was safe and helped her squeeze every last ounce out of a lift. And I started to help with other things. One day she appeared at the door with the obvious. It still shocked me.

“You know I use, right?”

“Um, yeah.” I admitted, “But I’m not judging you.”

A sly smirk graced her lips as she leaned in closer. "Would you have the courage to start giving me shots? I need them strategically placed so it doesn't show up during the competition, and it's getting harder…"

“Of course” I interjected before she had second thoughts. Moments later, she effortlessly slid down her tiny thong, unveiling her taut, granite-hard glutes. Her buttocks were a sight to behold, resembling nothing less than two solid masses of stone. Every curve and contour of her remarkable butt cheeks bore the unmistakable mark of relentless dedication and the chiseled sides spoke to her incredible definition--even those you couldn't see that were pock marked with shots.  I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the target.

“It’s okay you can put your hand on my ass. I don’t bite,” she snickered.

“Okay, okay,” I smiled, pressing one hand against her tight skin and hard folds of muscle and injecting her with liquid power with the other.

"Aaahh," she cooed, her eyelashes fluttering as a sensation of relief washed over her. She released a sigh that was nothing short of heavenly and turned to me."It's like liquid strength," she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and satisfaction. "It feels like it's rushing through my bloodstream, feeding my muscles, replenishing the power that keeps me going. It's like a secret source of energy that keeps me at my peak, ready to conquer any challenge that comes my way."

"Amazing," I muttered in sheer awe.

"You don't think less of me, do you?" She asked with a hint of worry in her tone.

"Hardly," I responded with sincerity.

“Thanks,” she said, kissing the top of my head.

Somehow, the idea that I helped feed her muscle growth with the shot, made me feel even closer to her. But the fact that she was on the internet opening her body to other men was frustrating. Yes, my feelings were irrational. Yes, it was selfish, but that didn’t stop the way I felt.

Then came the day when I found myself utterly unable to avert my gaze from the captivating physicality of Kymberly. It was a morning like any other, as I stepped out of my room and was met with a shocking sight—the shower door stood wide open. Wide open, as if inviting the world to witness her presence.
By this point, Kymberly had finely tuned her routine, dedicating just about an hour at a stretch to her rigorous workouts. Her mornings typically consisted of cardio exercises, where she would row and use the elliptical machine to elevate her heart rate. After a brief interlude for lunch, it was time for her second round of exercise, with me serving as her ever-vigilant spotter.

However, on this particular morning, as I ventured into the bathroom, I was confronted with a vision that left me utterly transfixed. There she stood, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat, her muscles carved with pristine, chiseled perfection. The curves and swells of her nude form were a masterpiece of human anatomy, too enchanting, too authentic, too immaculate for my eyes to ignore.

My brain struggled to process the overwhelming allure of the moment. Instead of acting, I found myself frozen in place, an invisible force binding me to the scene before me. The sound of a sudden whoosh of steam escaping as she opened the glass-doored shower resonated through the room, yet I remained rooted to my spot, captivated and helpless, as if I were a statue.

Glutes and lats pressed against the tempered glass of the shower door as the steam billowed through the bathroom. Still, I watched. Her cheek rested against the door as she shaved her most private areas.

Her cheek rested against the door, a study in serene sensuality as she meticulously shaved her most intimate areas. The air was charged with an erotic tension that seemed to hang suspended in the steam-filled room. Her shoulders and biceps, taut and sculpted, surged with power as the cool razor traversed her hot, moist flesh. Each stroke, deliberate and graceful, revealed the muscular contours of her arms, a tantalizing display of strength and sensuality. Even through the glass, I could trace the path of a deliciously thick vein running down the middle of her peaked bicep, a testament to the extraordinary power that resided within her.

The soapy water cascaded over her, accentuating the twisted beauty of her muscularity as it flowed across the intricate striations that adorned her physique. I squeaked as pre-seminal fluid wet my underwear but still couldn’t move away. It was a moment of surrender to desire, a stark contrast to my initial reluctance to pay for glimpses of her in video chat. My eyes were locked on her hard-as-granite frame which was riveted by striations. My cock throbbed in need but I ducked out of the way just in time, retreating to my room and waiting for her to begin her next session.

[ArkhamAsylum]

What an amazing story!

[taoschild]

It didn’t take long. Her hair still glistened with moisture, and a mesmerizing cascade of water droplets glided over her impeccably sculpted frame as she logged onto the site. She was wearing nothing but a towel that showcased altogether too much of her flawless physique for conventional etiquette, leaving me breathless in her presence.

The towel valiantly struggled to contain her colossal lats, its grip faltering with each passing second. As it gradually yielded, more of Kymberly's chest was unveiled—a breathtaking tapestry of rippling muscles. Her breasts were regal crowns atop her robust pectoral muscles, a captivating arrangement that seized immediate attention. The towel, as if choreographed by an artist, framed her square, muscular chest, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her perfect nipples peeking from out above. Like precious jewels they teased from the top of this frame, inviting our gaze to linger and appreciate the exquisite balance between power and sensuality.

It didn’t take her room long to be swarmed by others and my heart raced, and my breath quickened. but I was somehow able to be bold. Immediately, I took her into a private. She initiated the discussion. “Good to see you today, Russell.”

You’re too, beautiful. You look great. You’re going to win the Olympia. How could the judges choose anyone else? Beauty– brawn– and symmetry. You have it all, I typed.

“Thank you, but it’s so political so you never know. So, you like what you see, George” She cooed when she said my name, setting my whole body afire momentarily before my breath caught. “– I mean Russell?. Sorry, George is a friend of mine. I don’t know why I said that.”

It’s okay.

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry. This is your time with me and I shouldn’t be bringing other people into this conversation. I’ll give you extra time for free today for just you– Russell.”

Thank you. Oh, God. You’re amazing. You’re so beautiful and really understand people. You say you wish people would respect your brains— How could they not? I knew I was laying it on a little thick, but I kind of saw it as a necessity to build her confidence before she took off for the competition in Florida.

“That’s so sweet.”

Can I ask you a personal question?

“It must be a big question because you and I do that all of the time. Yes, go ahead,” she grinned.

What do you look for in a man– or a woman? What qualities?

She giggled, “A man, first of all. Hmm, that’s a good question. Well, I haven’t looked in a while, I’ve been focusing solely on this contest and a nice man has been helping me out with that.”

I beamed. So, what he’s been doing?

She laughed. “He’s just… well, he's been nice. Regarding men, I think I look for someone who is responsible, caring, and smart, I guess.”

And would you be okay with a man who, say, had a fetish about your muscles? I finally had the courage to ask the question.

“Well, yes. I wouldn’t have a problem with a man loving my body– but he’d have to have those other qualities too. And love me for more than just my body,” she giggled, sounding a little embarrassed. “Okay my turn for a hard question.” She brought her fist to the forehead and flexed in the classic “thinker pose” made famous by Rodin. I gasped out loud as the muscles rose in her arm.

Woah, I finally typed.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Now for my question. If you could have me…any way you wanted, how would it be?”

My fingers lightly massaged the keyboard, reticent to type. Could I tell her? I’d treat you like a lady.

“Pardon my French,” she said, “but don’t bullshit me. I know that if you took me on a date–well, I suspect that if you took me on a date–you would treat me with the utmost respect, but we both know that’s not what I’m asking.”

What are you asking?

She smirked, “you want me to say it, don’t you? You dirty man. Fine– If we had physical relations and you could have just one experience with me, how would you want me to act?”

My brain spun. Could I tell her the truth? Screw it, she didn’t know me from Adam. I’d want to worship your flawless body and do whatever I could to please you. Everything would be about you. But, I’d appreciate more than your body. You’re just amazing to me.

“That sounds really nice, and I’ll take that under advisement,” she grinned. “But I want to know how you’d want me to act.” The screen was shaking a little as she picked up her laptop and walked around her room. Then the picture froze. Somehow, it made it easier to answer since I suspected she might not see the answer.

Are you there? I asked, and then wrote the answer. Dominant– completely dominant.

Within seconds my door opened and Kymberly stood there buck naked. “Russell, get out here! I know you’re George. I need to be serviced before I go to Florida. Over and over again.”

[watson2022]

Absolutely incredible.

[taoschild]

My door swung open, and there she stood, a vision of dominance and desire, her nudity an embodiment of power rather than a sign of her vulnerability. Her command was unmistakable, and I couldn't help but be drawn to her irresistible presence. At that moment, my screen, my keyboard, and the boundaries of our virtual world dissolved into insignificance.

"Russell, get out here! I know you're George," her words were a potent mixture of authority and longing. The urgency in her voice left no room for hesitation, and I stepped out of my room, crossing the threshold into a new reality—one where Kymberly's dominance would reign supreme.

The transition from the virtual to the tangible was seamless, and as I stood before her, the palpable electricity between us hung in the air. The room seemed to pulse with anticipation as her gaze bore into me, and I could feel the intensity of her desire. She led me to her room– to her domain– where I’d be even more powerless.

Her naked form was a masterpiece of sculpted muscle. The play of light and shadow across her body highlighted her chiseled physique, and I was spellbound by the sheer magnitude of her presence.

"Kneel," her command was unwavering, and my knees dropped to the form as if it were there duty. She stepped closer, her muscular legs framing me like pillars of strength. Her hands, warm and commanding, traced a path along my jawline, tilting my head upward to meet her gaze. In her eyes, I saw a hunger that mirrored my own, a primal need that transcended words. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer until our lips met in a fierce and hungry kiss. It was a kiss that tasted of desire and submission, a merging of two souls bound by an irresistible force.

As our bodies pressed together, the sensation of her hard, muscular frame against my own sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me. Every inch of her body seemed designed to dominate, to command, and I reveled in my surrender to her. Her hands roamed my body, exploring with an assertiveness that left no doubt about who was in control. She guided me to stand, her touch guiding me as we moved together, our bodies entwined in a dance of desire and power.

The room seemed to fade into the background as our connection deepened. “You know the gear sets me afire– I’ve been denying myself for too long when you were here all along to serve me. And service me you will," she declared with a commanding tone.

“Yes,” I hissed in response.

“Eat me,” she said as she spread her legs and thrust the back of my head into her waiting warmth.

She spread her muscular thighs and thrust the back of my head into the inviting warmth between her parted legs. Her demand was unmistakable, and I wasted no time. My lips met the soft, moist flesh of her intimate core, and I began to explore her with a hunger that mirrored her own. The taste of her desire was a heady aphrodisiac, and I savored every moment of it.

My tongue danced over her delicate folds, tracing a path of pleasure that had her moaning in delight. Kymberly's hands, strong and commanding, urged me deeper into her, guiding my movements with an unspoken demand for submission.

With every flick of my tongue and every caress of my lips, I surrendered myself entirely to her dominance. Her pleasure became my sole purpose, and I reveled in the knowledge that I was serving her desires with unwavering devotion.

She gripped my hair firmly, using it as a means to control my pace and intensity. Her hips began to move in a rhythmic cadence, grinding against my eager mouth with a ferocity that left no doubt about her dominance.

The room around us disappeared, and all that remained was the intoxicating connection between us.

Kymberly's moans grew louder, her breaths labored as she approached the brink of ecstasy. Her fingers tightened their hold on my hair, a gesture that conveyed her imminent release. I could feel the tension in her body, the raw power that coursed through her as she surrendered to the pleasure I was providing.

And then it happened. With a primal cry of ecstasy, she reached the peak of her desire, her body convulsing with waves of pleasure. I continued to worship her with a fervor that bordered on worship, ensuring that her every need was met. As she gradually came down from the euphoric high, Kymberly released her grip on my hair and stepped back, her chest heaving with the aftermath of her climax. Beads of sweat adorned her glistening body, and her breaths came in ragged, satisfied bursts. Her powerful legs trembled slightly as she stood before me, an alluring vision of post-orgasmic dominance.

Kymberly's eyes, still smoldering with desire, locked onto mine. Her lips curled into a seductive smile as she gracefully descended onto the bed beside me, her muscular form a captivating sight. She exuded an air of regal satisfaction, knowing she had reveled in the pleasure I had provided. “That’s just one… well, actually more than one– but I will require far more tonight and plenty of worship. Do you understand?”

I nodded, afraid to answer in words.

“Good, then I shall reward my humble servant.” With a sensual grace, she extended her arm, her sinewy bicep flexing as she caressed my cheek. Her touch was a delicate contrast to her earlier dominance. "You've pleased me, Russell," she whispered, her voice a sultry purr. "More than you can possibly know."

A flush of pride and longing surged within me at her words. My submission to her desires had unlocked a world of pleasure, and I craved more of her.

Kymberly leaned in, her lips brushing against my earlobe as she spoke, her words a seductive promise. "Now, it's your turn, my dear Russell– well I should say our turn."

Her promise of a night filled with worship sent a shiver of anticipation through my body. I could hardly contain my eagerness to fulfill her desires.

With that, she began to explore my body with an intensity that matched her earlier dominance. Her hands moved with purpose, tracing the contours of my chest, running down my abdomen, and venturing lower with each deliberate touch. My every nerve seemed to come alive under her skilled ministrations.

She shifted her body, her toned legs entwining with mine as she settled herself on the bed. Her lips descended upon mine in a deep, consuming kiss, igniting a fiery passion within me. Our tongues danced in a sensual tango, an unspoken vow of mutual pleasure.

Her hands roamed my chest, tracing the contours of my insignificant muscles with a delicate touch that sent tremors of excitement through me. Kymberly knew how to awaken every nerve in my body, and I surrendered willingly to her expertise. With slow, deliberate movements, she began to disrobe me, unveiling my body with an air of reverence. Her fingertips brushed against my skin, igniting a trail of sensations that left me yearning for more. The room seemed to blur as Kymberly's focus narrowed on her task.

As the last piece of clothing was discarded, I lay before her in all my vulnerability. But there was no judgment in her eyes, only a hunger for the pleasure we were about to share.

She straddled me, her powerful thighs framing my hips as she gazed down at me with a sultry smile. Her eyes held a promise of ecstasy, a shared journey into the realms of desire that awaited us. I was completely under her spell, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of our bodies moving as one.

With each passionate thrust, I surrendered further to her dominance. Kymberly's moans of pleasure filled the room. Our connection felt real.

As our bodies moved in perfect harmony, I couldn't help but marvel at the incredible woman who had taken control of my desires. Kymberly embodied strength, sensuality, dominance, and somehow security in a way that left me utterly captivated. Our shared pleasure reached its peak, a crescendo of ecstasy that left us both gasping for breath. Kymberly's powerful release washed over her, and her cries of satisfaction echoed in my ears.

Afterward, we lay spent and satiated in each other's arms. It was an experience of a lifetime.

[Maestro]

Tao,
You have outdone yourself with this story. I am dreaming about these two in my sleep — and sometimes when I’m awaken. I, for one,  am grateful that you are sharing this with us. I am anxious to see where you go with this. You may want to have them grow closer. The drugs could interfere if they make her irritable and unreasonably demanding. Or they could even more loving and sensual with each other. Whatever the effects, he will be grateful for every moment they spend together. Please continue, more chapters will be appreciated.

[taoschild]

After our passionate union, I was enveloped in a warm afterglow, my body entwined with Kymberly's in a post-coital embrace. The room was filled with a sweet, intimate silence. We lay spent and satiated, my head resting beneath Kymberly's massive biceps. Kymberly's eyes, still smoldering with desire, locked onto mine. Her lips curled into a seductive grin before she finally broke the silence. "So, how long have you wanted me?" she asked, her voice a sultry purr.

Since the moment we met, I think," I snickered, as I traced the veins that crisscrossed her bare pectorals.

She exuded an air of regal satisfaction, knowing she had reveled in the pleasure I had provided. The spell of her dominance hadn't faded, and in fact, it had only intensified.  "Well, then we should make up for lost time," she grinned, her ivory teeth reflecting in the dim light.
“Um…” I couldn’t utter a word. Her spell seemed to make me mute.

"Are you ready to go again? Actually, strike that," she said, answering her own question, "you are going to go again, ready or not," she ordered as she twisted herself back atop me. As Kymberly's commanding words resonated through the room, I could feel my desire rekindling. Her assertiveness had an irresistible allure, and I willingly surrendered to her dominance. She could see it in my eyes and the way my muscles tensed in anticipation.

Kymberly leaned down and claimed my lips in a fervent kiss. Her powerful frame pressed against mine, her lips demanding and hungry. It was a kiss filled with promise, a prelude to the passionate encounter that awaited us.

As our mouths danced in a sensual tango, Kymberly's hands roamed my body with a possessive grip. “Oh, it’s going to be a fun few months until the Olympia,” she said flashing a grin.

I could only nod in response, distracted by her electrifying touch. She knew just how to elicit the most primal responses from my body, and I welcomed every moment of it.

Her powerful thighs framed my hips, and her eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desire and dominance. She was in control, and I was more than willing to submit to her will.

Kymberly's lips left mine, trailing a path of hot kisses along my jawline and down my neck. It felt as if she was marking me as hers, her lips branding my skin with the promise of pleasure.

Her breath whooshed across my ears in a sultry, commanding tone, "You are mine, completely and utterly." Her words sent a shiver down my spine, and I nodded in silent agreement.

With a sudden burst of strength, Kymberly lifted me effortlessly, her powerful arms cradling me. She guided me into a new position, one that left me entirely vulnerable to her desires. Her control was absolute, and I willingly surrendered to her dominance. As Kymberly claimed her rightful place, the room seemed to fade away.

Kymberly's moans of pleasure filled the room so clearly she was enjoying it too, but I was utterly captivated by her. I reveled in her dominance. She locked my legs and thrust against me as if she were the man, controlling the proceedings, and shaking the bed frame with each thrust. Her glutes fired back and forth with enormous power using me as a tool for her gratification, and I was honored to be of service. Our connection felt genuine and profound. Kymberly embodied everything I had ever desired, and our shared passion reached its peak.

The headboard was squealing and plaster started to fall off the walls but she only thrust harder. The bed's frame creaked and protested, its wooden joints buckling as if unable to withstand her superhuman might. Her power was relentless, each thrust displaying her overpowering strength as she took control with a commanding force that left me awestruck. Her hips generated a seismic force, causing the floor beneath us to shake and the room to vibrate.

Muscles rippled with every motion, showcasing the incredible physicality she possessed. I felt as if the bed itself were levitating, defying gravity, as she effortlessly moved it beneath us, creating an entirely new dimension of pleasure. It was as if she were a tempest, an unstoppable force of nature dominating everything in her path.

The room seemed to shake with our fervor, and the headboard squealed in protest as if unable to bear the intensity of our passion. Plaster began to fall from the walls, unable to withstand the sheer power and energy of our power. But Kymberly showed no signs of slowing down; on the contrary, she only thrust harder and more forcefully, as if determined to test the limits of our shared desire. I was her rag doll, her pleasure tool and I was honored to willingly surrender to her authority. As our bodies moved together in perfect harmony, we lost ourselves in the intoxicating rhythm of our desires. The room around us seemed to blur, and there was nothing else but Kymberly's strength, her sensuality, and the powerful connection that bound us.

Our cries of satisfaction filled the room, a testament to the intensity of our shared ecstasy. The walls seemed to pulsate with our fervor, and I was in awe of the incredible woman who had taken control of my desires. Finally, with a primal yell, she thrust against my tool so hard that the headboard crashed against the wall, leaving us both breathless in the aftershocks of our passion.

We lay there for a while, our bodies still intertwined, the evidence of our desire glistening on our skin. Kymberly's powerful arms encircled me, offering a sense of security and warmth that I had never known. Her fingers traced gentle patterns on my back, and I marveled at the contrast between her incredible strength and the tender touch she now bestowed upon me.

With a soft, seductive chuckle, Kymberly finally spoke, her voice a sultry whisper. "You were incredible, my little boy."

I could only muster a breathless response, "You... you were amazing."

She grinned, and the room seemed to light up with her radiant smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. We have a lot of time to explore more."
The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Kymberly didn't waste any time, for her insatiable appetite for pleasure seemed unquenchable. She moved with a grace that belied her immense size and strength, never ceasing to amaze me. Our shared desires deepened, and our passion continued to surge with every passing moment. I had surrendered to her dominance, and in doing so, I had discovered a world of ecstasy I had only dreamt of before.

As the night turned into early morning, we reveled in the pleasure of each other's company until she got up and got ready to workout. In the wake of our shared passion, I knew that my life had irrevocably changed. Kymberly was more than just a beautiful and powerful woman; she was the embodiment of all my desires and fantasies and she had claimed me as her own,