Erin Tames Brock

[JasperGhost]

"You're not going to believe the new chick at the gym," Mark said, toweling off his forehead as he sat next to Brock on the bench.

Brock, a towering figure with biceps the size of watermelons, grunted noncommittally. He was in the middle of his heavy deadlifts, his eyes focused on the barbell that groaned under his immense strength.

"No, seriously," Mark insisted, leaning closer. "She's a tiny little thing, but she's got more guts than half the dudes here. And she's cute, too, in a 'don't mess with me' kind of way."

The sound of clanking weights and grunts filled the air around them, but Brock's attention remained fixed on the task at hand. He didn't have time for gossip. He was the town's pride, the big strong guy with the hairy chest and the kind of physique that made people stare. He had a reputation to uphold.

Erin, the subject of Mark's admiration, was a few meters away, her earbuds in as she performed her squats. The music was loud, but not loud enough to drown out the rush of blood in her ears or the thud of her heart in her chest. She had always been the girl who blended into the background, but not anymore. Her body was changing, and she liked it. The way the fabric of her shirt clung to her toned shoulders and the way her muscles flexed beneath her skin. It was empowering.

The conversation between Mark and Brock grew louder, and Erin couldn't help but catch a few words. Her curiosity piqued, she took a break and moved closer, casually sipping from her water bottle.

"...and she deadlifted more than Jenkins!" Mark exclaimed.

Brock's interest was piqued. Jenkins was known for his deadlifting prowess. He had never seen anyone, let alone a girl, outdo him.

"Come on," Brock scoffed. "Jenkins is a beast."

"I'm telling you, she's something else," Mark said, his eyes wide with amazement. "Maybe you should ask her out, show her what a real workout is."

Brock chuckled, the idea amusing him. "And why would I do that?"

"Because," Mark leaned back and crossed his arms, "I bet you couldn't handle her in the gym, let alone in other places."

The challenge in Mark's tone was unmistakable, and a smirk played on Erin's lips as she listened from the sidelines. She had noticed Brock around, his chest hair peeking out of his tank top, flexing for the mirror as if it were his lover. But she had other plans for him. Much more than just a simple fling. She had seen the way he looked at her, the way his eyes lingered on her biceps and the confidence in her stride. Erin knew her worth and what she brought to the table. And she had decided that Brock would be her next project.

Her grip tightened around the water bottle as the idea grew in her mind. She had worked hard for this body, pushing herself beyond what she ever thought possible. And now, she was going to use it to get exactly what she wanted: Brock, the big, strong, clueless bodybuilder next door, would become her plaything. The thought sent a thrill down her spine, and she couldn't wait to get started.

The following day, Erin wore her tightest workout gear to the gym, ensuring every curve and muscle was on display. She caught Brock's eye as she strolled in, his gaze lingering on her. She knew she had his attention. She strutted over to the squat rack, loading the bar with more weight than she had ever attempted before. The metal plates clanked loudly, echoing through the gym.

As she squatted, she could feel the power in her legs, the strength in her core. The weight was a challenge, but she didn't falter. With each rep, her body screamed for her to stop, but she pushed on. The determination in her eyes was unmistakable.

Brock couldn't help but watch. He had never seen such focus in someone so small. She was a force to be reckoned with, and it intrigued him. He found himself drawn to her, not just because of her looks, but because of the power she exuded.

He approached her after she had finished her set, sweat dripping from her brow. "Impressive," he said, his voice low and gruff.

Erin looked up at him, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Thanks," she replied, her voice cool and collected. "I've been working on it."

Brock's eyes traveled over her, taking in the way her muscles rippled as she stood. "What's your secret?"

"Secret?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "There's no secret. Just hard work and a goal."

He nodded, unable to tear his gaze away. "I'm Brock," he said finally, extending a hand.

"I know," Erin said, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. "I'm Erin. Your neighbor."

The tension between them grew thick, and Erin knew she had him. The game was on, and she had the upper hand. She had always been the one to take what she wanted, and Brock was no exception.

Brock couldn't deny the attraction. Erin's compact muscles and surprising strength were a stark contrast to her delicate features and the swell of her breasts beneath her sports bra. He had never met a girl who could both squat more than Jenkins and make his pulse race.

"I've noticed you around," he said, his voice a little more gruff than usual. "You've really been putting in the work."

"Thanks," Erin said, her smile growing wider. She knew he was interested. "I've had a bit of extra motivation lately."

Their conversation was interrupted by a gym member asking Brock for a spot. He nodded and turned away, but not before Erin saw the hunger in his eyes. She had a plan, and it involved making him beg for her attention.

Over the next few weeks, Erin made it a point to be at the gym whenever Brock was there. She pushed herself harder, adding more weight to her lifts, and each time she saw him, she made sure to flash a little more skin, flex a little more muscle. It was a dance of power and desire, and she was the one leading.

Brock found himself drawn to her, watching her from afar, his thoughts wandering to what she could do with that strength in a more intimate setting. He was used to being the one in control, the one who called the shots. But with Erin, he felt something different. He wanted to take charge, to show her who was boss.

One evening, as the gym was clearing out, Erin approached Brock as he was wiping down the bench press. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his chest hair glistened with sweat. "Need a spot?" she offered, her voice light and teasing.

Brock glanced up, his eyes meeting hers. He knew she was baiting him, but he couldn't resist. "You think you can handle it?" he challenged, his smirk growing.

Erin's eyes never left his as she nodded. "I can handle whatever you throw at me," she said, her voice a seductive purr.

Brock's grin widened as he loaded the bar with his max weight. He had never been more eager to prove himself, to show this little slip of a girl just how strong he truly was. He lay down on the bench, his massive frame taking up more than his fair share of space. "Ready?" he asked, raising the bar slightly.

Erin stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She took her position, her hands hovering just under the bar, ready to support the weight if needed. "Whenever you are," she said, her voice steady despite the anticipation thrumming through her.

Brock took a deep breath and lowered the bar, the muscles in his chest straining as he brought the weight down to his sternum. Erin could feel the heat coming off his body, the scent of sweat and testosterone thick in the air. She watched as his arms trembled, the veins in his neck bulging. But she didn't move. She knew he could do it.

With a roar, Brock pushed the bar back up, his entire body shaking with the effort. Erin's eyes never left his, her gaze unwavering as she cheered him on internally. The barbell reached its peak, and Brock held it there for a moment, chest heaving. Then, with a grunt, he lowered it back down, completing his second lift.

"Good job," Erin said, her voice still steady. "You've got this."

Brock nodded, his breaths heavy and ragged. He knew he was being tested, not just physically, but mentally. And Erin was the one holding the reins. He took another deep breath and pushed the bar up again. The room felt like it was closing in, but she remained unfazed, her eyes locked on his, willing him to succeed.

As he racked the weight, his arms shaking from the exertion, Erin stepped back, giving him space to breathe. She watched as he sat up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. His chest heaved, and his abs rippled with the effort. He was so focused, so intense, that she couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for his dedication.

"Not bad for a man," she said, her tone playful.

Brock looked up at her, his chest heaving from the exertion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Erin shrugged, her smile still in place. "Just that you're pretty strong for a man," she said, her voice light. "I could do ten reps with that weight."

The challenge was clear, and Brock's competitive spirit flared. He couldn't let her outdo him, not on his own turf. "Oh yeah?" he said, his voice gruff. "Prove it."

Without hesitation, Erin stepped over to the dumbbell rack and picked up the 450-pound weight. It was heavy, heavier than anything she had ever attempted before. But she was determined to show Brock that she was more than just talk. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, her grip tightening around the handle.

Brock's jaw dropped as he watched her, his eyes wide with shock. He had never seen a girl, let alone anyone, attempt to curl that much weight. "What the hell are you doing?" he managed to choke out.

But Erin was in the zone, her eyes focused on the weight in her hands. She took a deep breath, her biceps flexing as she began to lift the dumbbell. The metal groaned, the weight seemingly immovable, but she didn't waver. Inch by inch, the weight rose until she had it at shoulder height, her arms trembling with the effort.

The gym had gone quiet. Everyone watched in awe as the tiny girl with the big attitude lifted the weight that even some of the seasoned bodybuilders struggled with. Brock's mouth was open, his heart racing as he stared at Erin, his mind reeling. He had underestimated her, and now she was showing him up in his own domain.

Erin could feel the weight of the dumbbell in her arms, the strain in her biceps and forearms. But she didn't stop. She grinned down at Brock, her teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light. She knew she had him hooked. With one final, triumphant grunt, she brought the weight up to her shoulder, then back down with a controlled movement. She had done it.

The gym erupted into applause and whispers. The air was electric with disbelief and admiration. Brock's jaw was still on the floor as he stared at her in amazement. He had never seen anyone, let alone a girl, do what she had just done. He felt a strange mix of annoyance and attraction.

"You're something else," Brock murmured, his voice filled with newfound respect.

Erin's smile was coy as she set the dumbbell down with a thud that echoed through the gym. "Just warming up," she said, winking at him.

Brock's ego was bruised, but he couldn't help but be intrigued. She was like nothing he had ever encountered before, a combination of strength and beauty that was intoxicating. "Impressive," he conceded, his voice gruff with a hint of awe.

Erin knew she had his attention now. She took a step closer, her body brushing against his. "Thanks," she said, her voice a seductive whisper. "But I've got more to show you." She scoops Brock up and says not here. She carries him out of the gym and to her place.

Brock felt his heart race as Erin carried him out of the gym like he was a ragdoll. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and excitement. What was happening? Was this a dream? As she opened the door to her apartment, the reality of the situation began to sink in. This was no dream. This was real, and he was about to become Erin's plaything.

Her living room was dimly lit, with a soft scent of vanilla wafting through the air. The walls were adorned with posters of strong women and fitness models, flexing their muscles and staring out with challenging gazes. The room was clean and orderly, with a hint of feminine touch amidst the stark workout equipment. Erin gently set him down on the couch, her strength surprisingly gentle.

"Make yourself at home," she said, her eyes gleaming. "I'll be right back."

Erin disappeared into her bedroom, leaving Brock to ponder what was happening. He felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. What did she have in mind? He took a deep breath and leaned back into the couch, trying to compose himself. He had never been in this position before, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for whatever came next.

When Erin emerged from the bedroom, she was a vision in a two-piece string bikini that barely contained her ample assets. The fabric clung to her curves like a second skin, revealing her toned abs and powerful thighs. The outfit was both scandalous and alluring, a stark contrast to the gym wear she had been sporting moments ago.

Brock felt his manhood start to rise as he took her in, his mind racing with thoughts of what she had planned for him. He had never seen a woman who could handle herself in the gym like she did, and now she was standing before him, a living embodiment of strength and sexuality. It was a heady combination that made him feel both excited and a little intimidated.

"What's the plan?" he asked, his voice gruff and thick with anticipation.

"Oh, I thought we'd have a little wrestling match," Erin said, her smile wicked. "Winner gets to keep their clothes on."

Brock's eyes widened. He had never been in a situation like this before, but he wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "You're on," he said, his voice filled with both excitement and a hint of skepticism.

He looked down at his own attire, realizing that he was wearing his usual tank top and compression shorts, with his jockstrap peeking out from the band of his shorts. Erin, on the other hand, was practically naked, with just the barely-there bikini covering her most intimate parts. She maybe strong but no way can she strip him before he strips her.

They moved to the center of the room, the anticipation thick enough to cut with a knife. Erin's eyes sparkled with mischief as she took a defensive stance. Brock mirrored her, his muscles tense and ready for action. The rules were simple: pin the other person to the ground, and you win. The prize? Whichever one of them was left wearing their clothes.

"You're on," Erin said, her voice low and steady. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Brock's chuckle was deep and cocky. "Oh, I'm not worried," he said, his eyes traveling over Erin's body. "I've got more muscle than you can handle."

Erin's smile grew wider, her eyes glinting with challenge. "Size isn't everything," she purred, her body tensing as she prepared for the match.

Brock sneered, his ego bruised from her earlier display of strength. "We'll see about that," he said, flexing his arms and stepping closer to Erin.

The match began with Erin and Brock circling each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Erin could feel the heat radiating from his body, his muscles taut and ready to pounce. But she was ready. She had been waiting for this moment, had been dreaming of it, planning for it.

With a sudden burst of speed, Brock lunged at her, his arms reaching out to grab her around the waist. But Erin was quicker. She sidestepped, her muscles rippling with power as she twisted away from his grasp. His hands found only air, and he stumbled slightly, off-balance.

Erin took advantage of the opening, darting in to wrap her arms around one of his thick thighs. She squeezed with all her might, her biceps bulging as she tried to topple him over. Brock's eyes widened in surprise, but he managed to stay upright, his legs spread wide to keep his balance.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunted, his own muscles flexing as he tried to shake her off. But Erin was like a vice, her grip unyielding. She knew she had to use her speed and agility to her advantage.

With a sudden burst of strength, she hoisted Brock into the air, his massive body leaving the ground with an audible grunt of surprise. Erin's laughter was light and musical, belying the immense power she wielded. She held him there for a moment, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

Brock's grip tightened around her arms as he tried to break free, his muscles straining against her iron embrace. But Erin was in control, her body moving with a grace that belied her newfound strength. She spun around, twirling him like a ragdoll before finally slamming him down onto the mat with a thud that echoed through the room.

He lay there, stunned, his chest heaving with exertion. Erin was on top of him in an instant, her legs straddling his waist, her hands poised to pull his tank top over his head. "You're going down," she whispered, her eyes alight with the thrill of victory.

Her fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, and with one swift motion, she yanked it up and over his head, revealing his broad, hairy chest. Brock's muscles were on full display, his pectorals like mountains under his skin, but it was his face that was the most telling. Surprise and arousal mingled in his expression as he took in the sight of Erin, all business and determination.

Their bodies were slick with sweat as they rolled across the mat, each one trying to gain the upper hand. Erin's legs wrapped around his waist, her ankles crossing behind his back, pulling him closer. His hands were trapped under her thighs, and she took the opportunity to push down, her thighs flexing as she used her core to keep him in place.

Brock felt her power, the way her body moved with precision and strength. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He tried to buck her off, but she was like a cat, her movements fluid and unpredictable. Her fingers found the waistband of his shorts, and with a quick yank, she had them halfway down his thighs, exposing his tight black jockstrap.

His breaths grew shallower as Erin's legs tightened around his waist, cutting off his air supply. He could feel her muscles, rock hard and unyielding, pressing into his abs. The fabric of her bikini bottom was damp from their exertion, and it was all he could do not to moan out loud. He had never been this turned on in the middle of a wrestling match before.

With a sudden burst of strength, Erin released her hold on him, jumping back and landing on her feet like a cat landing from a high branch. Her body was a symphony of power and grace, and Brock couldn't help but stare, his eyes devouring every inch of her toned physique.

In a flash, she grabbed the waistband of his shorts, her grip unbreakable. With a swift, decisive motion, she yanked them the rest of the way off of him, leaving him in nothing but his jockstrap. He struggled, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and arousal as she stepped away, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Holding his shorts like a trophy, Erin twirled them around her finger, her gaze never leaving Brock's face. "Looks like I've got you right where I want you," she said, her voice a playful purr. She could see the desire in his eyes, the way he was trying to compose himself. But it was too late; she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Brock's chest heaved, his abs rippling with the effort of staying in control. He was both embarrassed and incredibly turned on. No one had ever overpowered him like this, and certainly not a girl. But there was something about Erin that was undeniable. Her strength was mesmerizing, and he found himself craving more.

"I'm going to take this," Erin said, her eyes locked on Brock's jockstrap. "And then, I'm going to show you what a real workout is."

Brock's eyes narrowed, the challenge accepted. He knew he couldn't let her win so easily. He lunged at her, his massive body moving with surprising speed. But Erin was ready. She caught him in her grasp, her reflexes honed from weeks of training and lifted him up across her shoulders.

Her biceps bulged as she spun around, using his momentum to her advantage. With a powerful slam, she sent him crashing into the mat. The impact was enough to knock the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air. Erin took the moment to straddle him, her legs pinning his arms down.

"Looks like you're all talked out," she said, her smile wicked.

Brock glared up at her, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. "You're going to pay for this," he managed to grunt, trying to free his arms. But Erin's grip was like steel, and she didn't give an inch.

"Oh, I plan to," she said, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "But first, you're going to pay attention." She reached down and hooked her fingers into his jockstrap, giving it a sharp tug. The elastic dug into his skin, and he couldn't help but gasp.

With a flick of her wrist, Erin had the jockstrap in her hand, and Brock's cock sprang free, thick and hard. She tossed the fabric aside and leaned back, taking in the sight of him, laid bare before her. His muscles quivered with need, and she felt a thrill of power surge through her.

"Look at the little man, helpless as a baby," Erin teased, her voice a purr. Brock's eyes narrowed, but he couldn't hide the arousal that painted his features. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and it was a heady feeling.

"You're going to pay for this," he growled, trying to sound more threatening than he felt.

But Erin only laughed, a sound that was both playful and taunting. She grabbed his inner thigh with one hand, and the other went under his chest, fingers digging into his pectoral muscles. With a surprising burst of strength, she hoisted him up, his legs flailing as he left the floor.

"Oh, I think I've got more in me," she said, her voice filled with excitement and challenge. She began to do a set of curls with Brock's body as if he were a dumbbell. His muscles strained as she lifted him, his weight seemingly effortless in her grip. His eyes widened with shock and arousal as she continued, her biceps flexing with each movement.

The fabric of her bikini top was stretched to its limits, the seams straining against her swelling muscles. With each curl, her lats flared out, showcasing the power she had been hiding beneath her clothing.

In a sudden, explosive movement, Erin's lats spread, and the strings of her bikini top snapped. The material gave way with a resounding rip, revealing her firm, round breasts. The sight was a testament to her dedication and hard work in the gym. She looked down at Brock, whose eyes had gone wide with shock and desire.

"You like that?" Erin taunted, her voice a seductive purr as she continued her makeshift curls. "This is what real muscle looks like." With each lift, her breasts bounced enticingly, her nipples hard and erect from the cold air and the excitement of the moment. The power surging through her body was palpable, and Brock could feel it in every fiber of his being.

He couldn't believe what was happening. The girl he had underestimated was now holding him up with one arm, her other hand teasing his cock as if it were a toy. He felt his body responding to her, his erection growing even more painfully hard as she played with him. "You're... you're insatiable," he managed to get out, his voice tight with need.

With a quick, fluid motion, Erin flipped Brock so he was upright, his legs dangling. She positioned herself so that his cock was nestled between her breasts, which she then squeezed together with surprising strength. His eyes rolled back in his head as she began to pump him, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. "You're so... powerful."

Erin giggled, the sound light and musical, as she tightened her grip on Brock's cock. She had never felt so in control, so alive. Her muscles flexed and rippled as she continued to squeeze him, her breasts moving in rhythm with his moans. His eyes rolled back in his head, and she knew she had him right where she wanted him.

"You're breaking my dick," Brock yelled, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain. But Erin didn't relent. She enjoyed the power she had over him, the way he squirmed and writhed in her grasp. Her own arousal grew with every squeeze, her clit pulsing with the excitement of the situation.

Using her free hand, she reached down and pinched one of his nipples, rolling it between her fingers until it was as hard as a pebble. Brock's moan grew louder, and she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. With a smirk, she leaned in closer, her breath hot on his abs as she held him his dick trapped.

With a snarl, Brock tried to use his massive arms to push her shoulders away, desperate to free his dick from its painful prison. But Erin was stronger than she looked, her biceps bulging as she resisted his efforts. The pressure on his cock increased, and he couldn't help but whimper.

"Say it," Erin demanded, her voice low and sultry. "Say I'm the strongest."

Brock's eyes snapped open, and he stared into hers, his own filled with a mix of anger and lust. He couldn't believe the situation he found himself in: this little girl, not even half his size, was holding him aloft with one arm, playing with his nipple, and crushing his dick with her tits. It was humiliating, and yet, the most intense sensation he had ever felt.

"Say it," Erin repeated, her voice a whisper that seemed to resonate through his entire body. "Say I'm the strongest."

Brock's face contorted with effort, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought the overwhelming sensation. But he couldn't deny it. Her pecs had grown tighter around his cock, and the pressure was unbearable. "You're... you're the strongest," he finally choked out, the words forced from his throat.

Erin's smirk grew wider, and she released him with a dramatic flourish. Brock's legs buckled, and he would have fallen if she hadn't caught him, her grip firm and steady. "Good boy," she purred, her eyes shimmering with triumph.

Brock's cock was still rock-hard, standing tall between them like a declaration of his submission. Erin stepped back, her body glistening with sweat, her breasts heaving with each deep breath she took. "Now, let's see what you're really made of," she said, her voice dropping an octave.

Without warning, she grabbed him by the waist and tossed him onto the couch. He landed with a thud, his body bouncing slightly on the cushions. Erin stalked over to him, her eyes never leaving his. She knew she had him in her thrall, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Her hand snaked out and grabbed his wrists, pulling them above his head. Her grip was like steel, and he had no choice but to comply as she pinned him down. Her other hand traveled down his body, tracing the contours of his muscles until it reached his cock, which was still standing at full attention. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking him slowly, watching his reactions with a hungry gaze.

Brock could feel his resolve crumbling. The pleasure was too much, and the power she had over him was intoxicating. "What do you want from me?" he panted, his eyes locked on hers.

Erin leaned down, her breasts pressing against his chest. "I want you to submit to me," she whispered, her breath hot on his face. "I want you to be my boy toy, to do whatever I say."

Brock's eyes searched hers for any sign of a joke, but all he found was a fierce determination. He had never been with someone who could handle him so easily, and the thrill of it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He found himself nodding, unable to resist her. "I'll be yours," he breathed.

Her grip tightened around his wrists, and she leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "Good," she murmured. "Because you don't have a choice, little boy."

With that, Erin climbed onto the couch, straddling him. Her wet, muscular thighs gripped his waist as she sat on his chest, her pussy just inches from his face. Brock could feel the heat radiating from her, and his cock throbbed with anticipation. He had never been so turned on in his life.

"Open your mouth," Erin ordered, her voice firm and in control. Brock obeyed, his mouth opening wide as she lowered herself onto his face. He could feel the slickness of her, and the scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. He flicked his tongue out tentatively, tasting her for the first time. She was sweet and salty, a heady combination that made him want more.

Her thighs tightened around his head as she began to rock her hips, grinding her pussy against his face. He could feel her muscles clench and release, her body moving in time with her deep, needy moans. The power she had over him was undeniable, and it only served to make him harder.

Erin's hand reached back and grabbed the string of her bikini bottoms, giving it a sharp tug. The fabric ripped away, leaving her bare and exposed. She threw the torn scrap of material aside, watching him with a predatory gaze as she positioned herself over his mouth.

Her pussy hovered just out of reach, her engorged clit begging for attention. Brock could see the muscles of her stomach contract as she shifted her weight, her abs rippling with each movement. The sight of her naked, powerful form was almost too much to bear.

"Eat me," she ordered, her voice husky with desire. Brock didn't need any further encouragement. He eagerly buried his face between her legs, his tongue seeking out her clit. He felt the muscles in her thighs tense as he began to lick and suck, her juices coating his face as he devoured her.

Erin's moans grew louder as she rode his face, her body moving with an urgency that was impossible to resist. Brock's tongue danced around her clit, teasing and tormenting it until she was bucking her hips against his mouth, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He had never felt so alive, so in tune with another person's pleasure. It was as if her desire was a drug, and he was addicted to it.

Her hand found his cock again, her grip firm and sure as she began to stroke him in time with her movements. The feeling was overwhelming, and he could feel himself getting closer to the edge. But he knew she wasn't ready for him to come yet. This was her show, and she was the one calling the shots.

"That's it," Erin moaned, her voice thick with need. "Make me cum, baby."

Brock's tongue flicked faster, his teeth grazing her sensitive bud as he sucked and licked with all the skill he had. Her hips bucked harder, and her hand tightened around his cock, her strokes matching the rhythm of his tongue. The room was filled with the sounds of wet, sloppy pleasure, and the scent of arousal was heavy in the air.

Her orgasm was like a storm, crashing over her as she threw her head back and screamed his name. Her thighs squeezed his head so tightly, he thought she might crush his skull, but the pain was a distant thought as her juices flooded his mouth. He drank her in, eager for every drop, his own climax building like a volcano ready to erupt.

But just as he felt himself reaching the peak, Erin's hand shot out and gripped his cock, squeezing it hard enough to cut off the flow of blood. He groaned into her pussy, his body straining against her ironclad grip. She knew he was on the edge, and she wasn't ready to let him go over just yet.

With a wicked smile, she pulled herself off of his face, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her climax. "Not yet, baby," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "We're just getting started."

Brock's cock throbbed in her hand, the painful grip only serving to make him more desperate for release. He watched as she climbed off the couch, her muscles glistening with sweat as she moved to stand over him. He was still panting, his face a mess of her juices, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"On your knees," Erin ordered, her voice still holding that seductive power over him. Brock obeyed without hesitation, his body moving almost of its own accord. He knelt before her, his cock standing tall and begging for attention. Erin stepped closer, her muscular legs spreading to give him full view of her dripping pussy.

"Now," she said, her voice like a whip crack, "make me cum again."

Brock leaned in, his tongue eager to taste her sweetness once more. He licked up her slit, feeling her quiver under his touch. Erin's hand wrapped around his head, pulling him into her ass he worked to pleasure her. Her fingers danced along his chest.

"That's it," she breathed, her legs spreading wider to give him better access. "You like being my little bitch, don't you?"

Brock's face was a mask of pleasure and pain as he continued to service her, his tongue flicking against her clit with the precision of a maestro. Erin's grip on his hair tightened as she pushed his face deeper into her pussy. He could feel her muscles clench around his tongue, her body responding to his every touch as he struggled to breathe.

Her thighs quivered with the effort of keeping herself upright, but she wouldn't relent. The power she had over him was heady, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. Brock's cock was still rock-hard, and she knew he was desperate for release. But she had other plans.

"Keep going," Erin demanded, her voice a purr of satisfaction. "I want to feel you beg for it."

Brock's moans grew louder, vibrating against her clit as he worked her over. His tongue was a whirlwind of sensation, driving her closer and closer to the edge. She could feel another orgasm building, her muscles tightening with the anticipation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, she was there, her body convulsing with pleasure.

Her grip on his head tightened even more, pushing his face so deep into her pussy that he couldn't breathe. His nose was buried in her wetness, and she could feel his desperation as his hands flailed at her legs. But she didn't stop. Instead, she ground down on his face, riding the wave of her climax until it crashed over her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

Finally, she stepped away, her legs wobbly from the intensity of her orgasm. She looked down at Brock, his face a mess of her juices, his cock standing at attention like a flag pole. "You did good," she said, her voice still thick with desire. "But I'm not done with you yet."

With a wicked grin, Erin picked up the remote control for the TV and turned it on, switching to her favorite porn channel. "Let's see if you can keep up with the pros," she said, tossing the remote aside. She climbed back onto the couch, her legs spread wide as she positioned herself in front of Brock. Her pussy was still quivering, begging for more, and she knew he could feel it.

Brock stared at the screen, his eyes wide as he watched muscular men in the video were begging used by a woman, her body flashing with each powerful thrust as she pulled these men into her ass they hooked that her pussy was too strong for them. Erin leaned back, her hand stroking her clit as she watched the scene unfold. "Like what you see?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

Without waiting for his response, Erin hopped off the couch with an agility that belied her muscular frame. She grabbed Brock by the arm and effortlessly hoisted him off the floor. His eyes went wide with shock and excitement as she turned him around, his legs dangling in the air. Her hand slid down to his ass, her fingers digging into his firm flesh.

With a grin that was both playful and predatory, Erin positioned Brock so that his cock was lined up with her wet pussy. "Ready to see how it's done?" she teased, her eyes never leaving his. He nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps as she began to pull him into her.

Her muscles clenched around him, her pussy walls tight and warm as she sank down onto his cock. Brock couldn't believe the sensation; it was as if he was being swallowed whole by a living, breathing vise. He had never felt so filled, so claimed.

"Look at you," Erin said, her voice filled with a smug satisfaction as she pulled his cock I'm and ot of her. "You're so eager to please me."

Brock couldn't argue. He felt like a puppet, his strings being pulled by Erin's expert hands. Her strength was a revelation, and he was utterly enthralled by it. As she lowered herself onto him again, his cock disappearing into her depths, he felt a mix of awe and arousal. Her muscles flexed around him, her abs rippling as she moved. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

"Fuck me, Brock," Erin ordered, her voice firm and commanding. "Make me feel good."

Brock didn't need any more encouragement. He thrust into her, his hips moving with a fervor that surprised even him. Each time he bottomed out, he felt her muscles spasm around him, gripping him like a vice. The sensation was intense, like nothing he had ever felt before.

But Erin had other plans. As soon as Brock tried to flip the script, she resisted, her powerful thighs wrapping around his waist and her arms like steel bands around his neck. "Uh-uh," she said, shaking her head. "This is my show, remember?"

Her pussy tightened around his cock like a vice, the muscles squeezing so hard he yelled in pain. Erin's eyes lit up with mischief as she felt him strain against her. "You want to take control?" she taunted, her voice like a whip crack. "You're going to have to work for it."

With a sudden surge of strength, she lifted herself off him, leaving him gasping for air. Before he could recover, she spun him around and bent him over the arm of the couch. His cock slapped against his stomach, still hard and desperate for attention. Erin chuckled, her hand tracing the outline of his ass before she slapped it firmly.

"Let's see how much you can take," she whispered, her voice a dark promise. Brock felt a thrill of fear and excitement run through him. He had never been so thoroughly dominated, and he wasn't sure he could handle it. But his body was betraying him, his cock pulsing with need as she positioned herself behind him.

With one hand, Erin spread his cheeks apart, exposing his tight hole to the cool air. With the other, she reached down and began to stroke his shaft, her grip firm and unyielding. He could feel the wetness of her pussy against his back as she leaned in, her breath hot on his ear. "Beg for it," she whispered, her teeth grazing his lobe.

Brock's body was a taut bowstring, ready to snap with the tension. "Please," he whimpered, his voice barely a whisper. "I need it."

Erin chuckled, a dark, sultry sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Good boy," she purred. "You know what to do."

Her hand left his cock, and he heard the sound of her rummaging through a drawer. When she returned, she had a bottle of lube in her hand. Brock felt the cold liquid dribble down his crack, and he couldn't help but tense up. But Erin was having none of that. She pushed her fingers inside him, stretching him out with surprising ease. He groaned, his body tightening around her digits as she worked him open.

"Relax," she murmured, her voice a soothing caress. "I've got you."

Brock took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as Erin's fingers slid in and out of him, her touch firm and sure. He had never been with a girl who was so in control, so confident in her own strength. It was a heady feeling, and it was turning him on more than he cared to admit.

With a final, slow stroke, Erin pulled her fingers out, and he felt something else pressing against him—the head of her strap-on. The tip of the silicone cock was cool against his skin, a stark contrast to the heat of her body.

"Ready?" she asked, her voice low and full of anticipation.

Brock nodded, his voice a barely audible murmur. Erin smirked, knowing she had him right where she wanted him. She pressed the tip of the strap-on against his hole, feeling his body tense up even more. With a gentle push, she began to penetrate him, her cock sliding inch by inch into his tightness.

He groaned as she filled him up, the sensation foreign yet exhilarating. His mind raced with thoughts of submission and power, his body responding to the fullness in a way he had never experienced. Erin's hand reached around to stroke his cock, keeping him on the edge of pleasure as she began to pump in and out of him.

With each thrust, Brock could feel her muscles working in harmony, her abs flexing and her legs trembling with the effort of controlling his body. It was as if he was a ragdoll in the hands of a giantess, and the feeling of vulnerability was strangely thrilling. His moans grew louder, and he found himself pushing back against her, desperate for more.

The sight of Erin's muscular back, the strap-on disappearing between her legs with each stroke, was mesmerizing. Her arms bulged with each movement, the veins standing out like highways on a map. Brock felt like he was being claimed by a force of nature, and the more he struggled, the more he wanted it.

"You like that, don't you?" Erin taunted, her voice a seductive growl. "You like being my little bitch."

Brock could only grunt in response, his body no longer his own as Erin's strap-on pistoned in and out of him. The pain was intense, but it only served to heighten his arousal. He had never felt so used, so dominated, and he was loving every second of it.

With a final, powerful thrust, Erin's strap-on was fully seated inside him, and she began to move in earnest. Her hips rolled with a practiced ease, her strokes deep and deliberate. Brock's moans grew louder, his body shaking with the force of her movements. He felt like he was being torn apart and put back together with every thrust, his thoughts nothing but a jumble of pleasure and pain.

But Erin wasn't satisfied with just his verbal reactions. She wrapped one muscular arm around his waist, her bicep flexing as she hoisted him up, her strap-on still buried deep within him. With her other hand, she reached around and began to stroke his cock, her grip firm and steady. Brock's eyes rolled back in his head as she began to lift and lower him, his body moving up and down on her dildo like he was riding a wild beast.

"Say it again," Erin demanded, her voice a snarl of pleasure. "Tell me how strong I am."

"You're so strong," Brock gasped, his voice a desperate moan as Erin's strap-on filled him completely. "So... so fucking strong."

Erin's smile grew even more wicked as she felt his body submit to her power. She knew he was close to the edge, his muscles quivering and his breath coming in ragged pants. "Say it like you mean it," she growled, her hand tightening around his cock.

Brock's voice was barely above a whimper. "You're so much stronger than me," he admitted, his voice thick with desire and defeat. "I'm nothing but your toy, your weak little bitch."

Erin's eyes sparkled with triumph. She loved hearing the big, strong bodybuilder reduced to such a vulnerable state. Her strokes grew more forceful, the strap-on slamming into him with a wet slap that echoed through the room. "That's right," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're my boy toy, and you're going to do exactly what I say."

Brock's orgasm was building, his muscles tightening with every thrust. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, his body begging for release. But Erin wasn't done with him yet. She slowed her pace, drawing out his pleasure as he whined in frustration.

"Not yet," she murmured, her hand moving faster on his cock. "I want to hear you scream my name when you cum."

The torment was unbearable. Brock's body was a live wire, and every touch from Erin sent electric jolts through him. He could feel his climax approaching like a runaway train, his whole body tensing in anticipation.

"Please," he begged, his voice hoarse from the moaning and whimpers that had escaped him. "Please let me cum."

With a smirk, Erin pulled out of him, her strap-on glistening with his juices. Before Brock could even catch his breath, she had spun him around and hoisted him up, her biceps flexing with the ease of someone lifting a feather. She held him in the air, his legs dangling, his body suspended by her sheer power alone.

"Cum for me," Erin whispered, her breath hot against his balls. She lowered her mouth to his cock, her tongue swirling around the tip as her hand stroked the shaft. Brock's eyes rolled back in his head, his body a quivering mass of need.

With a grunt, he exploded, his seed shooting into her eager mouth. Erin didn't miss a beat, swirling her tongue around his shaft as she greedily drank him down. Her throat muscles worked, her eyes locked onto his as she took every drop. The sight of her in complete control, her mouth full of his cum, was more than Brock could handle. His orgasm was like a supernova, consuming him whole.

The world around him went white-hot, his muscles spasming as the pleasure overwhelmed him. He was dimly aware of Erin's hand releasing his cock, her body moving away from his. But his vision was swimming, his mind a haze of pleasure.

Brock felt his legs give out, his body too weak to hold him up any longer. He crumpled to the floor, his head hitting the ground with a thud that didn't even register. He was lost in a sea of sensation, his body boneless and his mind racing.

Erin looked down at him, a smug smile playing on her lips as she wiped her mouth clean. He had never looked so small, so powerless. The feeling was exhilarating, like she had conquered the unconquerable. She stepped over him, her muscular legs flexing with each step, the strap-on still snug against her body.

"You're mine now," she said, her voice a mix of satisfaction and challenge. "And we're just getting started."

With a surprising gentleness, Erin lifted Brock's boneless form into her arms. He was heavy, but she handled him with the ease of a mother cradling a newborn. The contrast of her powerful biceps against his trembling body was stark, a reminder of the dynamic that had shifted between them.

"Let's go to the bedroom, little toy," Erin murmured, her voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down Brock's spine. Her eyes were alight with excitement and dominance as she carried him through the apartment. His cock was still semi-hard, slapping against his stomach with each step she took.

Laying him down on the bed, Erin straddled his chest, her powerful thighs pressing against his sides. She reached back and removed the strap-on, tossing it aside with a clatter. "Now," she said, her voice low and commanding, "it's time for the main event."

Brock's eyes widened with a mix of trepidation and excitement. He had never been so thoroughly dominated, so completely at the mercy of another person's desires. But as he watched Erin hover over him, her muscles flexing with the effort of keeping herself aloft, he knew he didn't want it to end.

Her pussy hovered over his face, glistening with a mix of their juices. The scent of her arousal filled the room, making his mouth water. Without prompting, he reached up and spread her lips with his thumbs, revealing the dark pink of her inner folds. Erin's eyes closed in pleasure, her head tilting back as she felt his warm breath on her skin.

With a smirk, she lowered herself onto his face, her pussy enveloping his mouth and nose. The sensation was suffocating and erotic all at once. Brock's tongue darted out, eager to taste her once again. She moaned, her body shuddering as she felt him lick and suck at her clit, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. Her thighs quivered with the effort of staying in control, but she was determined to ride out this wave of pleasure
.

As Erin's hips began to rock back and forth, Brock could feel her wetness smearing his face. He didn't care; all he could focus on was the taste of her, the power of her body above him. His hands roamed her thighs, feeling the power of her muscles as they tensed and relaxed. He could feel her getting closer to orgasm, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Her abs flexed with every movement, her stomach muscles rippling like a stormy sea. Brock's eyes wandered to her breasts, so close yet out of reach. He groaned into her pussy, his own cock now fully erect again. Erin noticed his desperation, her smile turning wicked.

"You want these, don't you?" she teased, cupping her breasts in her hands. "Beg for it."

Brock could only whimper against her folds, his mouth and nose buried in her pussy. Erin took it as an affirmative and leaned forward, pressing her tits against his hands as she began to grind her clit against his nose. He could feel the heat of her breath on his cock, her breaths growing shallower as her orgasm approached.

Her thighs clamped around his head, and he knew she was going to crush it. The pressure was immense, like being in a vice, but it only served to fuel his arousal. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue lapping at her clit with a fervor that bordered on desperation. The walls of her pussy tightened around his face, the wetness smothering his cries.

Brock's body was a canvas of sensation—his nose buried in her wetness, her breasts smothering his mouth and nose, his cock throbbing against the bed. He could feel her orgasm building, her body trembling above him. And then, with a final, powerful grind, she came, her juices flooding his mouth and face as she screamed out his name.

Her muscles clenched around him, her thighs like steel traps. Brock's eyes watered, but he didn't fight back, loving the way she used him. Erin's orgasm seemed to go on forever, her body convulsing with pleasure. When it finally subsided, she rolled off him, her breaths coming in great, heaving gasps.

"You did good," she said, her voice still thick with arousal. "But I have a surprise for you." Brock's eyes searched hers, trying to gauge what she had in store. He was still reeling from the intensity of their encounter, his body a whirlwind of sensation.

"What is it?" he managed to croak out, his throat raw from his earlier screams.

"Well, tomorrow," Erin began, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "you're going to meet my other little boy toy."

Brock's eyes snapped to hers, a mix of shock and excitement crossing his features. "Another one?" he managed to ask, his voice still shaky from his recent orgasm.

Erin's grin grew even wider, her muscular chest rising and falling with each breath. "Oh, yes," she said, her voice dripping with anticipation. "Someone who's been dying to meet you, to feel your strength—or lack thereof."

The thought of sharing Erin with another man sent a jolt of jealousy through Brock's body, but the fire in his belly was quickly snuffed out by the reality of his current state. He was still sprawled on the bed, utterly spent and covered in her cum. The idea of another man experiencing the same dominance was both humiliating and thrilling.

"Who...who is it?" he stammered, his heart racing.

Erin leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. "You'll see," she whispered, her fingers tracing a line down his cheek. "But for now, clean up. You're a mess."

Brock nodded, his body moving sluggishly as he tried to sit up. Erin rolled off the bed, her muscles rippling as she stood. She sauntered over to the bathroom, her naked form leaving a trail of desire in her wake. He watched her go, his cock twitching with the thought of what was to come.

When she returned, she had a warm, wet washcloth in her hand. She tossed it to him, her expression unreadable. "Get cleaned up," she ordered, her voice still holding that edge of dominance. "And don't forget to clean the floor, too. Men are so weak."

Brock's cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and arousal as he took the cloth. He couldn't believe he was being talked to like this, but something about Erin's confidence was intoxicating. He obeyed, wiping the cum from his face and chest, his mind racing with thoughts of what tomorrow would bring.

As he cleaned the floor, Erin watched him with a knowing smile. She could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his cock twitched with every move she made. She knew she had him hooked, and the anticipation was delicious.

Once he was done, she slid one hand around his shoulder, the other across his ass, and with surprising agility for her muscular frame, she hoisted him up into the air. Brock's eyes widened, his legs dangling as she easily held his weight. He felt like a ragdoll in the hands of a giantess, his strength no match for her surprising power.

With a swift, practiced motion, Erin bent her legs and placed him onto what looked like a doggie bed in the corner of the room. It was a stark reminder of his new role—her plaything, ready to be used and displayed at her whim. The plush cushion felt cold and foreign against his bare skin, and the smell of leather and submission filled his nostrils.

"You'll sleep here tonight," Erin announced with a smug smile. "So you're nice and fresh for tomorrow's little surprise."

Brock couldn't believe it. He was being treated like a pet, and yet his body was still humming with desire. The mix of embarrassment and excitement was like a potent cocktail, leaving him light-headed. He watched as Erin walked over to her bed, her powerful legs flexing with each step. She climbed in, the mattress groaning under her weight, and pulled the covers up to her chin.

"Goodnight my pet." Erin says.

Brock could only nod, his body still reeling from the intense workout she'd given him. He laid down on the doggie bed, the cold leather against his skin sending a shiver through his body. The room was bathed in a soft glow from the bedside lamp, casting shadows across the floor. His eyes followed her as she turned off the light, the only sound now was their heavy breathing.

[JasperGhost]

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[Sicod]

Fabulous. Smaller dominates larger. Love it.

[Jeremy Lightning]

I absolutely loved reading this story, I am a huge fan of a smaller girl overpowering, lifting and dominating a much larger man, I have a minor problem with it, I personally am into numbers, I would've loved to know exactly how tall and heavy Erin and Brock are, the bigger the difference in size and weight, the better, in my honest opinion. I hope the second part comes out soon and the other toy boy is even bigger, more muscular and stronger than Brock, then she overpowers and lifts both of them together! k+!

[wissen]

Awesome story!

[Raffman]

Really enjoyed that read, thank you.