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"Now That's What I Call A Muscle!" - Tribute to GBM

Started by grbaclig, May 08, 2025, 05:18:45 PM

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grbaclig

The following is a work of satire based on a classic FMG story. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. All characters are 18 years of age or older unless explicitly stated otherwise.


Chapter 1

   I was sipping my coffee as I grabbed the morning mail, and paused for just a second at the end of the driveway to admire my perfectly manicured lawn, my sprawling mansion and the shining red Lamborghini Revuelto parked in my driveway. "I'm the ultimate alpha," I said to myself with a smile.
   I say that about myself a lot. Some people don't like it, and say that I'm arrogant. But then again I'm Jeff Stone the former Golden Gloves boxing champion, former Mr. Universe bodybuilding champion and an Olympic gold medalist in weightlifting. I'm 6'4" tall and my body is 275 pounds of pure muscle, and millions of people on social media watch my gym takeover videos to see me travel to gyms around the world to outflex and outlift the biggest and strongest guys I can find while their girlfriends watch and get moist over my dominance. Why should I be humble?
   As I closed the front door behind me, I paused for just a second to admire my wife as she leaned over the kitchen table and arranged breakfast wearing a black laced teddy. Tiffany is a former world champion bikini model with a toned, tanned and curvaceous body. She has an hourglass figure, a butt that looks like a peach and natural F cup breasts so perky they seem to defy gravity. She also has a weakness for big muscles and big egos, which is why she melted into my arms as I approached her for a hug. "Your arms look huge this morning," she cooed as she pressed her body against mine and ran a ruby-red fingernail along the neckline of my t-shirt. "Can you flex for me, baby? Just a little?"
   "How can I flex 'just a little' with arms this big?" I asked as I flexed my 25 inch bicep.
   "Ooh yeah just like that," Tiffany said as she began to stroke my bicep, her nipples hardening against my body. "Brag about your muscles, baby. You know how hot that gets me."
   "I hate to break it to you, babe," I said as I pushed her away, "but I'm in a hurry this morning."
   "Ooh are you doing another gym takeover?" she asked as we sat down for breakfast. "Seeing you dominate a weight room gets me so hot. I just love to watch you being dominant."
   "I love when a beta male's girlfriend throws herself at me and starts kissing me," I said.
   "I don't love that," Tiffany said with a pout as she went to her breakfast.
   "Hey babe," I smirked, "I'm the ultimate alpha. Girls love me and I love girls. You knew that when you married me. Besides, I'm just going to my gym this morning. I've been really strong all week, and I want to lift on my home turf and set some PR's before I stream another gym takeover. Maybe film it for some filler content, assuming one of the bimbos at the front desk can work the camera."
   "Ooh can I come along?" Tiffany asked. "I know how to use the camera, and I just love watching you get all sweaty and pumped."
   "Fine with me," I said. "Just don't wear anything sexy. I don't want other guys looking at you."
   "Why can't I ever dress sexy in public?" Tiffany pleaded. "I love showing off my body. That's why I got into bikini modeling in the first place. Are you afraid someone bigger and stronger is going to woo me away with their muscles, like you do all those other guys' wives and girlfriends?"
   "No chance in hell," I snorted. "No one's bigger and stronger than me. Now go get changed."

   Tiffany was wearing some jeans, a t-shirt, and simple high-heeled sandals. Both the pants and shirt were tighter than I would have liked, and I was pissed off that she disobeyed me, but I was eager to start pumping iron so I didn't make her change clothes. Besides, she gets all emotional and shaky when I yell at her, and I needed her clear-headed if she was going to film me setting PR's.
   The gym had been open for an hour when I got there, but as soon as I started making my way to the racks and benches, dudes started to scatter like bugs. They knew I was the ultimate alpha, and making me mad was the last thing in the world that they wanted to do.
   I started with a few sets of bicep curls, squats, and chest flys just to get a decent pump going. Then I hit a bicep pose in front of the mirror and admire by work. Tiffany was right when she said that my arms looked huge this morning. They had never looked bigger, and I couldn't help but smile. Then I heard something I never expected to hear anyone say anywhere, let alone in my own gym where I was the king.
   "You call that a muscle?" a girl's voice called out with a crass, mocking tone.
   I chuckled to myself. It was almost certainly some gym bunny who recognized me from my gym takeover videos trying to flirt with me, so I rolled my shoulders so that she could get a good look at how massive my delts and traps were. "Yeah, I call that a muscle," I said, pumping my arm again as I continued to watch myself in the mirror. "In fact I have the biggest biceps in the world."
   "You wish," the girlish voice scoffed. "You don't even have the biggest biceps in this gym."
   That got my attention. I was always ready to flirt with a sexy babe, but no one was going to disrespect me like that on my home turf. I turned around slowly, but to my surprise I didn't see a hottie in spandex, but a little girl in a pink sweatshirt. She was cute as a button with had jet black hair tied in a ponytail and light brown skin, and she wore bulky white sneakers and baggy jeans like all the kids do nowadays. Judging by her youthful features she must've been in high school. And judging by the way her clothes fit, she had never been inside a gym before in her life, because she was about 5 feet tall and nearly as wide. Heck, she looked almost round, like she would roll away if I pushed her over.
   I wasn't being flirted with by a gym bunny, I was being trash-talked by a fat little schoolgirl. All of a sudden my anger subsided and I laughed out loud. I guess she didn't appreciate that, because her little lips bent into a scowl and her eyes narrowed in anger. "Don't laugh at me, punk!" she snapped, a slight Spanish accent notable in her voice. "This isn't a joke, this is a gym takeover. Me against you, lift against lift, pose against pose, muscle against muscle."
   That made me laugh even louder. "Okay kid," I said wiping a tear of mirth from my eye. "I'm assuming this is a prank video you're filming for some fitness channel that wants to ride on my coattails. You need to talk to my wife Tiffany at the front desk. She handles all the business stuff."
   Right on cue, Tiffany pranced over and began setting up the camera. "It's no prank Jeff," she said, gushing with excitement. "This is Rosalita Rivera. She's 18 years old and started lifting last year. She's very serious about weightlifting and bodybuilding, and she wants to lift with you. Isn't that fun?"
   "Look kid," I sighed, turning to Rosalita. "My channel blew up because I make serious videos for serious lifters who pump serious iron. I don't make 'fun' videos with little girls. Understand?"
   "Yeah, I understand," Rosalita said with a contemptuous sneer, "You're afraid of me."
   That got my blood boiling again. No one talked to me like that, ever. "What did you say?" I growled.
   "It's nothing to be ashamed of," Rosalita said with a nasty smirk. "Betas like you are always afraid of getting humiliated by alphas like me. It's basic biology. You should be afraid to lift with me."
   All the gear in my system gave me a short fuse, and I was starting to see red, but I fought back the urge to grab that little butterball by the neck and punt her out the front door. Whatever Rosalita's deal was―whether she was an actor in a prank video or a schoolgirl with delusions of grandeur―I was going to put an end to it. "OK kid, listen up," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm setting PR's on curls, squats, and flat-back bench press today. If you want to go lift against lift with me, feel free. I'll go first, you go second. Just take it easy on the tears. It will hurt my brand if I make an 18 year old girl cry."
   "It's going absolutely wreck your brand when an 18 year old girl makes you cry," she said with a sneer.
   I was so mad I was shaking. I was super pissed off and I was seriously considering punching a grade school girl, but I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Tiffany, get a measuring tape," I said. "I've got a good pump and I want it on film."
   Tiffany jiggled her way across the gym and returned as I was setting up in front of the camera with a double bicep pose. "25 inches," Tiffany cooed as she wrapped the tape around my arm.
   "Pathetic," Rosalita snorted derisively.
   Her 'mean girl' act was really pissing me off, but I kept my cool and put out my thigh and flexed my quad. "37 inches," Tiffany said as she looked up at me with desire and admiration in her eyes.
   "Weeeeeaaaaak," Rosalita called out mockingly.
   I growled with anger under my breath Tiffany wrapped the tape around my chest as I tensed my pecs. "60 inches!" she cheered as she brought the ends of the 5-foot measuring tape together.
   "Pathetic," Rosalita chuckled, rolling her eyes.
   "Wrong, bitch!" I shouted at the Latina brat, stepping forward and looming over her as I flexed my biceps. "These muscles have dominated every strength sport on earth! These muscles pump serious iron! These are the kind of muscles only a grown man can build! "
   "Jeff, please!" Tiffany hissed. "Don't yell are her, she's only a kid!"
   But Rosalita didn't even flinch. Instead she flashed a contemptuous smirk, walked around me, and took her place in front of the camera. "You don't know what serious iron is until you've seen me lift," she said. Now let me show you the kind of muscles only a little girl can build.
   And with that she kicked off her shoes, cocked her left leg, arched her back, and lifted her chin.


Dona Fell Friz

A new story from you is like early Christmas! Welcome back.

Jeremy Lightning

Great to see you back, I am a big fan of GBM, so one of my favorite authors doing a tribute to another of my favorite authors is a big thumbs up for me, can't wait to see more! K+!
Don't forget to K+ if you enjoy my writing.

Great stories about strong and muscular women and girls, hope you enjoy!

brave_archer

The legend returns! And with a 'remake' of a female muscle classic. Saying I'm hyped for this would be an understatement  :singing:

musqular6

A great start to a continuation.Hope to see her grow bigger and stronger as time progresses.Look forward to reading more.)

grbaclig

Chapter 2

   Little Rosalita Rivera stood completely still for just a second, a smug look on her face, her tiny bare feet just visible beneath the hem of her baggy jeans, her arms thrust downward at 5 and 7 o'clock. She puckered her lips, took a deep breath, and wiggled her fingers. Then she set her jaw, clenched her tiny hands into fists, and slowly curled her arms upward.
   Immediately, the sound of ripping fabric filled the air as the sleeves of Rosalita's pink sweatshirt went from baggy to tight to skin-tight as the unmistakable shapes of biceps, triceps, and delts began to swell within them and strain against the cloth. From her wrists to her shoulders, fabric tore and seams split, exposing glimpses of the honey-brown skin beneath, until finally the sleeves of Rosalita's sweatshirt disintegrated into shreds of pink fabric as her biceps erupted into mountainous peaks.
   Rosalita wasn't little at all, and she wasn't fat either. She was massive and she was ripped.
   Her biceps were the size of softballs, and so chiseled that they showed clear definition between the long and short heads. And those huge biceps framed by front delts that rose nearly to her ears and draped down to her torso in slabs that looked at least 2 inches thick, triceps the size of American footballs that dimpled at her armpit and elbow showing definition most pro bodybuilders never achieved, and forearms so thickly cabled with muscle they looked bigger than most guys' upper arms. They were the biggest, most muscular arms I'd ever seen in my life, and they belonged to a girl.
   "Well?" Rosalita asked, looking at Tiffany. "Aren't you going to measure my arms?"
   Tiffany didn't answer. Or rather, she couldn't. She stood frozen, staring slack-jawed in disbelief at Rosalita's massively muscled arms. Suddenly she snapped into full awareness. "Oh yes, oh my goodness, oh my goodness," she said nervously as she hurried forward, measuring tape in hand.
   Then the sound ripping fabric rang out again as seems running down the sides of Rosalita's sweatshirt split, forced open by the swelling of massive beefy lats. Tiffany stopped dead in her tracks and gasped in surprise. "I hope that didn't shock you too much," Rosalita chuckled, "because it's going to keep happening. They don't make clothes big enough to cover my muscles."
   "They're certainly very big," Tiffany said, blushing as she wrapped the measuring tape around Rosalita's enormous arm. "Very big. Very very big. So big."
   "How big?" Rosalita asked, looking me square in the eye as she awaited my wife's response.
   "26 inches!" Tiffany exclaimed. "Oh my word!"
   It didn't make sense. The little teenaged brat had arms bigger than mine! "It can't be," I said.
   "It can, and it is," Rosalita crowed. "And just wait until you see my legs."
   With that Rosalita pointed her right leg forward, planting her tiny bare toes on the mat. Masses of muscles began to swell visibly beneath the fabric of Rosalita's jeans, and tears began to burst open all around the thighs of Rosalita's jeans, the blue denim rapidly giving way to the brown skin that bulged beneath it, accompanied by a violent ripping sound. In a flash Rosalita's left leg was bare, the leg of her jeans having been reduced to scraps of shredded denim. And then she put her left foot forward and the right leg of her jeans instantly exploded into scraps, leaving so little material on her body that it looked like she was wearing a bikini bottom made of ripped denim.
   Her thighs were gigantic, every muscle bulging with mass as her vastus and femoris muscles jostled for space, woven together like cables of steely hard muscle from where they inserted into her deeply dimpled glutes to where the teardrop-shaped heads of her quads loomed over her knees. Her calves were just as impressive, as big as volleyballs but shaped like diamonds and tapering dramatically into her slim girly ankles. And it wasn't just the size of Rosalita's legs that was staggering. Her legs were absolutely shredded, with striations rippling along the edges of each perfectly defined muscle in her quads, and both heads her calves sharply cut so that it looked like they might burst from her skin. And it wasn't just the conditioning of Rosalita's legs that was staggering. Her legs were incredibly shapely, with sweeping thighs and unmistakably feminine curves from the swell of her rounded glutes to the toes on her dainty feet. They were the biggest, most muscular legs I'd ever seen in my life, and they belonged to a bratty 18-year-old girl.
   "How about a measurement?" Rosalita asked, looking at Tiffany.
   Tiffany fell to her knees, her eyes wide and her mouth agape as she ogled the mass of bulging, deeply gouged muscles of Rosalita's legs.
   "It doesn't matter which one you measure," the Latina brat asked, her voice dripping with pride. "My physique has perfect symmetry. In fact, my physique is perfect in every way."
   "Perfect in every way,"  Tiffany repeated as if in a trance as she wrapped the measuring tape around Rosalita's right thigh, and swallowed hard. "The size, the shape, the definition. Just perfect."
   "And how big are they?" Rosalita asked with a smirk as she looked me in the eye.
   "38 inches!" Tiffany gushed.
   "I can't believe it," I mumbled to myself. "I just...can't believe it."
   "If you don't believe it, just ask your wife," Rosalita laughed. "She's got a front row seat. And the show is just getting started, because my chest is my best body part. Check this out."
   With that Rosalita wrapped her tiny fingers around the neck of her ruined sweatshirt and pulled. The pink fabric ripped apart like tissue paper. Beneath her sweatshirt she was wearing a white cropped tank top with the words 'stronger than you' printed on it in simple black letters. The tank top would have been way too large for a normal 18-year-old girl, but Rosalita Rivera was far from normal. The sheer white fabric of the oversized top looked like a sportsbra, skin-tight and stretched to its limit, as it struggled to contain the big, thick slabs of her pectoral muscles―as well as a pair of budding breasts that looked like C cups but were dwarfed by the immensity of the pectorals that they rode on.
   Each of Rosalita's pecs must have been 10 inches wide from their outer edges where they plunged into her enormous front delts with a bevy of striations, to their inner edges where they met in a gulf of muscular cleavage that looked to be at least 3 inches deep. They were so thick that they jutted from her chest like slabs of granite beneath her honey-brown skin, hanging like a shelf of girl beef above her shredded, muscle-packed midsection. They were so big and so thick that they overwhelmed her tank top from every direction, stretching the neckline of her tank top it to its limit with their bulging mass, with their undersides were visible beneath the hemline. A nasty smirk spread across Rosalita's face as she flexed her pecs, the massive muscles churning beneath her soft young skin as they hardened into massive striated domes that looked like pumpkins, stretching the tank top so tight that it clung to her firm young breasts, and her nipples poked out forcefully beneath the fabric. They were the biggest, most muscular pecs I'd ever seen in my life, and they belonged to a bratty 18-year-old girl who was barely over 5 feet tall.
   "Any time you're ready," Rosalita said to Tiffany.
   "Oh I am so ready," Tiffany purred, her lips puckering as she reached around the hulking teenager with the measuring tape trembling hands. "I'm so ready I think I'm about to burst."
   "You thought you had the hottest chest in the gym, didn't you?" Rosalita asked with a giggle.
   "So hot," Tiffany moaned. "You're pecs are... they're just...they're so big!"
   "And exactly how big are they?" Rosalita asked.
   "I don't know," Tiffany said, her voice bubbling with excitement. "The tape isn't big enough!"
   It wasn't nearly big enough. There was a gap of at least three inches between the ends of the measuring tape. "This can't be happening," I said.
   "Oh it's happening all right," Rosalita said with a bitchy little laugh. "In fact, it's just getting started. After all, you've already been in here pumping up for an hour, and my muscles aren't pumped at all."
   "Not... pumped... at all?" Tiffany gulped.
   "Not even close," Rosalita crowed. "Now why don't you go find a bigger measuring tape."
   "I don't think we have a bigger tape," Tiffany said, her eyes still glued to the musclebound teen.
   "Well you'd better go find one," the pint-sized juggernaut said to my awestruck wife. "You'll have to measure us again after our competition."
   My brain was still reeling from what I had seen. Rosalita's impossible muscularity turned my world upside down, and I could barely understand what she was saying. "Competition?" I mumbled.
   "Just like we agreed to, remember?" Rosalita asked, folding her arms behind her head and cocking her hips. "Me against you, lift against lift, pose against pose, muscle against muscle."
   "Muscle against... muscle," I gulped as I looked at the barbells, my heart pounding in my ears.
   "That's right," Rosalita giggled as tensed her core, making her young tummy harden into a lattice of rocky muscle, framed by a rippling symphony of chiseled obliques and serratus muscles, her sprawling lats spreading so wide above her surprisingly shapely waist they looked like a cobra hood. "Curls, squats, and flat back bench, just like we agreed. Now you go first. Just like we agreed."

nickolai


Jeremy Lightning

Really loved this chapter, Rosalita is so awesome, so huge for being so short and young, and she's not even pumped, though I am guessing the weights offered at the gym are too light to really make her try, but it will be fun to read anyway! k+!
Don't forget to K+ if you enjoy my writing.

Great stories about strong and muscular women and girls, hope you enjoy!

Scott2920


thebaron


grbaclig

Chapter 3

   I took a few deep breaths as approached the barbells and started loading plates. I was going for a PR of 315―something only the strongest men in the world could do―but I was going to have to build up to it with a warm-up set of 225. Counting the plates calmed me down a little bit, and gave me a chance to think about what I had just seen. There was no way that a little girl like Rosalita Rivera had muscles like that. She looked bigger and more ripped than any man I had ever seen in my life,
like she could walk on the stage at Mr. Olympia and win easily. Surely no woman, let alone a 18-year-old girl could build muscles like that? And with a 5 foot tall frame? And after only a year of lifting? It just wasn't possible. "It's a trick," I said to myself as I started my warmup set.
   And after a few reps I had calmed down even more. I had to laugh at myself for believing that a schoolgirl could outmuscle me. It must be a trick. Rosalita was probably a child actress wearing must be some kind of suit or special effects or something, maybe for some kind of internet prank or movie publicity stunt. And whoever put her up to it must have gotten Tiffany involved. She would have gone along willingly, because she was always wanting to do dumb stuff to get more viewers to my channel. I didn't know exactly what was happening, but I knew that if I just stuck with my plan and nailed my lifts and my poses, I would come out on top, like I always did.
   Then as I loaded up the bar for my PR of 315, I noticed a crowd forming around the barbell racks. It was nothing new, because people lined up to watch me lift all the time, but this time they weren't looking at me. They were looking at Rosalita Rivera.
   She was hitting a side triceps pose that gave the assembled crowd a lateral view of her body, and she looked huge. Her thighs looked even bigger than the 38 inches they had just been measured at, with hamstrings that bunched into columns of muscle so big they jostled for space against her enormous diamond-cut calves. Her glutes looked as big as basketballs. Her volleyball-sized shoulders not only had perfect definition between the front, medial, and rear heads but each head was lined with striations that most bodybuilders could only dream of. The horseshoe-shaped hunk of tricep meat she was showing off looked as big as a frozen chicken, and the so ripped that the skin crimped all along the undersides of the long head and lateral head as they arched over her dainty elbow. And her torso was as thick as an oak tree with her colossal pectoral muscles swelling out of the neckline of her tank top, the arching of her back forcing her breasts up and exposing half-moons of cleavage. "Rosalita, your body is amazing!" Tiffany exclaimed, her hands clasped together and her and her eyes goggling.
   "My body is more than just 'amazing'," Rosalita boasted as she rotated her wrist, making her delts and triceps swell with muscle and ripple with striations. "It's the absolute pinnacle of muscularity. Just look at these triceps. No one else on earth even comes close to the guns I'm packing."
   "Oh my," Tiffany said, blushing. "You certainly like to brag about your muscles, don't you?"
   "I have biggest, strongest, hardest, sexiest muscles in the world. Why should I be humble?" Rosalita asked, her voice dripping with arrogance as she shot a sultry glance at my wife. "Besides, gym bunnies get hot when I brag about my muscles. And I love getting gym bunnies hot."
   Tiffany responded by blushing and turning away, but she never took her eyes off Rosalita as the boastful brat continued to show off her triceps.
   "It's a trick," I said to myself. "Those muscles aren't real. It's a prank or a stunt, and Tiffany's in on it. Just stay alpha and stay aggressive and you'll come out on top like always. Now let's do this."
   I unhooked the barbell, and let it hang at my waist. I could feel every ounce of the 315 pounds puling against my arms, but I wasn't about to wuss out. Not here and not now. With a roar I swung the bar up to my chest, turning heads from around the gym. People murmured in disbelief and shouted my name in encouragement, and that got my blood pumping so I did another rep. And then another. I had to cheat a little bit on each of the reps, but no one cared. I just curled most weight than most people can deadlift. "Can I get a measurement?" I said to Tiffany with confidence as I flexed my biceps.
   "Ooh my big strong baby!" she gushed as she rushed forward with the tape and wrapped it around my arm. "26 inches!" she called. "Ooh Jeff I've never seen your arms look so big and sexy!"
   "How about that," I said to Rosalita. "Just as big as yours. Maybe even a little bigger."
   "26 inches is nothing to brag about," Rosalita snorted. "Just wait until it's my turn to curl."
   "It's your turn right now," I said to her with a smile. "You okay with 315 pounds, little girl?"
   "It's a little less than I usually warm up with," she said, approaching the barbell. "But it's okay."
   As Rosalita wrapped her slender girly fingers around the bar, I kept one eye on the door, ready for some internet prankster to jump out and explain what the heck was going on.
   But that's not what happened.
   What happened is that little Rosalita Rivera plucked the barbell from the rack and let it hang at her hips, her arms fully extended, without so much as a grunt of exertion. Then, slowly and with perfect form, she curled the 315 pound weight to her chest and lowered it again in one smooth motion. Then she did it again. And again. And again. "Oh. My. God!" Tiffany cried. "Just look at her arms!"
   It was impossible not to look at Rosalita's arms. As she cranked out rep after rep with the barbell that I had struggled with not 5 minutes earlier, her arms were swelling with mass and rippling with definition. Each time she curled the bar to her chest, her biceps contracted into bulging orbs the size of softballs, buttressed by brachialis muscles as thick as soda cans and delts so big and deeply segmented they looked like pumpkins. After 15 reps, Rosalita set the bar back in the rack with obvious ease. "That was incredible!" Tiffany gushed.
   "Don't get too excited. That was just a warmup" Rosalita smirked before pointing to Dave, a powerlifter and one of  biggest guys in the gym. "Hey you, put to more pairs of 45's on that bar while blondie takes another measurement."
   Without a word Dave sprang into action, averting his eyes from the young musclegirl as if he were afraid to even look at her. For her part Rosalita didn't notice him at all, as she strolled up to Tiffany and flexed her right arm. Rosalita's bicep swelled into a softball-sized peak of muscle beneath her honey-brown skin, and Tiffany's eyes widened with excitement drew nearer, measuring tape in hand. "29 inches!" Tiffany exclaimed. "I can't believe it!"
   Neither could I. Or at least, I didn't want to believe it. But there was no denying it now. Rosalita Rivera's muscles were real. With my own eyes I watched her effortlessly warm up with a 315 barbell that I had struggled to lift even once, watched every muscle in her arms contract and extend and swell with mass as she did, and watched her flexed bicep stretch a measuring tape to 29 inches. I was looking at the biggest, strongest bicep in the history of the world, and it belonged to a teenaged girl.
   "I'm just getting started," Rosalita scoffed as she walked back to the barbell, and once again lifted it from the rack with ease. "29 inches in nothing to me. I need to put some real weight on that barbell if I want to get a decent pump."
   And to prove her point, Rosalita took the barbell, now laden with 495 pounds, and curled it up to her chest, very slowly and with perfect form. Again and again the massively muscled schoolgirl raised and lowered the weight, a cocky smile on her face as she watched herself in the mirror, her biceps swelling into massive vein-streaked boulders of muscle beneath her honey-brown skin, skin crimping along the ridges of her gigantic triceps, her forearms bigger and thicker than most bodybuilders' upper arms, and her dainty girly hands perfectly still as she controlled the barbell perfectly through every repetition. As she racked the barbell after her 15th rep, Tiffany approached her eagerly with the measuring tape outstretched, and everyone in the gym moved close to watch her flex.    Everyone except for me, that is. I didn't want to watch. But I couldn't look away.
   With her nose in the air and a confident smile on her face, Rosalita extended both her arms and fanned out her fingers, standing still just long enough for the assembled crowd to marvel at the gigantic size and deeply cut definition of her biceps, triceps, and forearms. Just long enough to demonstrated that her arms were bigger and more muscular when relaxed than mine were flexed. Then she started to flex, slowly. Inch by inch her biceps contracted from thick angular slabs that looked as big and hard as steel ingots into mountainous, vein-streaked, double-headed peaks that reached her ears. I never dreamed that anyone, let alone a young girl, could have arms that muscular. "Not bad," Rosalita said as she looked at her gigantic arms, smiling with satisfaction as she turned to Tiffany. "Hey blondie, why don't you jiggle your way over here and measure these big arms of mine?"
   Tiffany obeyed, grinning from ear to ear with excitement as she stretched the tape around Rosalita's left arm. "33 inches?" she gasped in disbelief. "Oh my God, it's bigger than I would have thought possible. And it's so hard! Like steel!"
   "Like I told you before," Rosalita boasted, "I have biggest, strongest, hardest, sexiest muscles in the world."
   "Biggest, strongest, hardest, sexiest..." Tiffany repeated as she gawked at the girl's bicep.
   Then, lowering her arms and gently pushing Tiffany aside, Rosalita strutted up to me, a haughty smile on her lips. "Okay skinny," she said. "Ready to move our little competition to the squat rack?"

Dona Fell Friz


phil123

The start of more growing and The size difference becomes bigger and bigger.

grbaclig

Chapter 4

   I nodded weakly, went over to the squat rack, and began loading a heavy duty powerlifting bar with 55 pound plates. "Hey are you sure you're ready?" Rosalita laughed. "Your legs look tired. Unless there's another reason that your knees are shaking."
   There was another reason, and she knew it. My knees were shaking because I was afraid.
   It wasn't because Rosalita was bigger than me, even though she was. It wasn't because Rosalita was stronger than me, even though she was. It wasn't because Rosalita had effortlessly captured the attention of everyone in the gym―including my own wife―even though she had. It was something deeper. Something in the pit of my stomach that made we want to run away from her, or hide from her gaze, or do anything to avoid making her angry. Something in the very core of my being that knew Rosalita Rivera was the alpha, and I was the beta.
   I wished it wasn't true, but there was no denying it. I was being bullied around my own gym by a schoolgirl who was stronger and more muscular than I had ever dreamed of being—or than I had ever thought possible. With a sad smile, I picked up my weight belt, which had the words 'ultimate alpha' embossed on the leather. Up until today, those words had been my identity and the guiding principle to everything I did, but now they felt like a cruel joke. A teenaged schoolgirl had destroyed my world, and everything I thought I knew about myself. And it had taken her about 5 minutes.
   As I began warming up for my squat PR everyone else in the gym gathered around Rosalita, taking photos and videos as she continued to pose and flex. "My TikTok account goes live tomorrow with footage of this gym takeover, and I'm going to dominate the internet just like I dominate gyms," she said as struck an archer pose, her chest thrust outward and her hips cocked to show off her feminine curves in addition to her impossibly muscular physique. "My account is @TeenMuscleGoddessRosi. And all of you wimps better follow me—or else."
   "Rosalita, I can help you with your account, if you want me to," Tiffany offered bashfully. "I'm a really good videographer. Jeff's views doubled after I started shooting and editing his videos."
   "You just want an excuse to watch me pump iron and flex my muscles," Rosalita chuckled.
   "Maybe," Tiffany giggled, blushing at the arrogant young girl's flirtatious comment.
   As my wife swooned over a girl half her age, I bit back my shame and approached the heavy bar that I had loaded with18 55-pound plates. I felt every ounce of the 1,035 pounds as I hinged at the hips and lowered myself down. I didn't go as deep as I normally would, and I didn't quite lock it out before dumping the weight back on the pegs, but I sure as hell lifted it. It was more than I'd ever put up on the squat rack before in my life, and I smiled as Tiffany pranced over to measure my legs. "38 inches," she chirped. "Oh Jeff honey, your legs have never been this big before!"
   She was right, and it felt good to hear her say it. I felt good. I felt strong. For about 5 seconds.
   "That's not your PR is it?" I heard Rosalita Rivera laugh as she strutted up to squat rack and surveyed the weight. "That's only like a thousand pounds! That's not even my max front squat."
   Then, to back up her boast, she swaggered up to the squat rack where the bar rested above her eye line due to me being over a foot taller than her. Facing the crowd, she placed her hands under the bar, hoisted it off the pegs and lowered it onto the muscle-swollen mass of her front delts. She crossed her arms casually to secure the bar, then walked the bar out casually, as if she were completely oblivious to the 1,035 pounds she was carrying. The gym was filled with murmurs of amazement as everyone, myself included, marveled at how easily Rosalita handled the half-ton bar.
   Then she started her squats. Up and down she went, her form textbook perfect as she went from a ramrod-straight lockout where the teardrop-shaped bulges of her vastus muscles hung two inches over her dainty kneecaps to a deep squat―or as deep as she could go until the bulging columns of her hamstrings rested on the massive blocks of her calves, while atop her legs the mounds of her femoris muscles bulge so high and wide that they completely obscured her abs and left nothing visible of her tattered shorts except a thin blue strip of denim stretched tight against her labia.
   After 20 reps, Rosalita walked casually backward into the rack, and pressed the bar overhead into the pegs that hung near her head. "Oh Rosalita that was amazing!," Tiffany squealed with delight as the tiny juggernaut walked away from the rack. "You're so big and so strong and so... oh my God!"
   "I'm not a god, I'm a goddess," Rosalita said as tucked her arms behind her head―at least as far as her hulking arms would allow. "Who else but a goddess could have a set of curves like this."
   Then Rosalita cocked her hips so her sweeping thighs, narrow waist, and extensive lats formed a dramatic hourglass shape that was all the more remarkable for the bulging muscles that were packed into every inch of her figure. Then, shooting a playful wink at Tiffany, the teenaged colossus thrust her right leg forward and tensed every muscle in her body. All along her torso, muscles erupted into impeccable definition, her eight perfectly carved, perfectly symmetrical abs framed above by rocky ribs and serratus muscles, and below by bulging obliques which formed a deeply gouged adonis belt that plunged into the skimpy remains of her bluejeans. Murmurs of disbelief filled the gym as the crowd gawked at the symphony of rock-hard muscles that bulged beneath her honey-brown skin.
   But that was nothing compared to her legs. With her bare foot pointed and her tiny toes planted on the mat, Rosalita's leg was throbbing with muscles so big and so shredded that it looked like they were going to burst from her skin. The muscles of her inner thigh bulged out like a bowling pin in the valley formed by her sartorius, while her femoris muscle was as thick as a 2-litre bottle—as were the vastus muscles that wrapped around it and tapered into her dainty knee giving her hips a distinctly feminine sweep. The dramatic curves of her leg were only accentuated further by the enormity of her diamond-shaped calf, which was as big as a cantaloupe as it flared out behind her tibia before  tapering into her slender ankles. There was no doubt that this was a girl's leg, and it was the biggest, most muscular leg I had ever seen in my life. "A goddess..." Tiffany repeatedly as if in a trance as she knelt down to measure Rosalita's gigantic thigh, "a muscle goddess... so much muscle... so much..."
   "Are you okay, blondie?" Rosalita laughed. "I hope you're not too worked up to read that tape."
   "41 inches?" Tiffany exclaimed. "Oh it's... it's just so much muscle... so much big sexy muscle."
   Tiffany's lips pouted and trembled as she began running her hands along the massively musclebound schoolgirl's thighs, waist, and stomach. "Yeah it is," Rosalita said with a cocky smirk. "And my muscles are only going to get bigger and sexier once I get enough weight on that bar to break a sweat. You wanna see that? You wanna see my muscles get all pumped up and sweaty?"
   "Oh yes..." Tiffany moaned. "Oh yes... big, sexy, pumped up, sweaty muscles... oh yes..."
   "I thought so," Rosalita chuckled as as basked briefly in Tiffany's adoration before growling at the crowd. "Somebody needs to drop that bar down a few pegs and get it loaded to the max."
   In a flash, several of the biggest and strongest men in the gym rushed forward in panic to obey the young musclegirl, adding plate after plate to the bar until it could hold no more. Now laden with 1,980 pounds of plates, the bar itself was bending in the middle as Rosalita strolled casually into the rack. With her back to the crowd, Rosalita rolled her enormous shoulders, and walked under the bar.
   We all watched with silent awe as the 18-year-old amazon slowly raised a literal ton of weight onto her back, retracting her shoulders so that she could nestle the bar between the of rock-hard domes of her rear delts and the inches-thick swell of her ludicrously overdeveloped trapezius.
   She took a couple of small steps backward and set up her tiny bare feet in a squat stance, keeping her back to us to make sure that we got a good view of her impossibly muscular lower body.
   Beneath her tiny waist her glutes swelled like globes of muscle beneath her honey-brown skin, deeply dimpled where the gluteus medius met the gluteus maximus. Her hamstring muscles looked as thick as telephone poles with all three major heads clearly visible, such that their size and definition would rival most bodybuilders' quads, and the immense bulges of her inner thighs and outer vastus muscles―clearly visible even from behind―complemented the peach-shaped curves of her buttocks to present an unmistakably feminine shape to her ludicrously muscular legs. Her calves were, if anything, even more impressive than her upper legs. They were massive blocks of muscle, easily as big as my shoulders, and so sculpted that they looked like upside-down valentine hearts with both heads clearly defined with prominent beveled ridges on their undersides, and the way that they flared out dramatically above her slender girly ankles made them look all the more freakishly muscular.
   Then she started her squats, and those enormous legs began to grow even larger.
   Again and again five-foot-nothing Rosalita Rivera went up and down with perfect form, over a ton of weight on her huge shoulders. At the bottom of each squat her buttocks erupted with striations, stretching her skin so tight that the segmentation from her freakishly developed glutes made it look like she had tractor tires beneath her skin, and every time she rose up the contraction of her hamstrings and calves were perfectly visible beneath her honey-brown skin, which was now beading with sweat.
   After completing 12 perfect back squats with 2,025 pounds on her back, Rosalita walked the bar casually to the rack and dropped the fully-laden barbell on the pegs, where its immense weight caused the entire gym to shake. She turned around with an arrogant smirk on her face, staring straight at me as she pointed her left leg forward and set up for a quad shake pose. The masses of muscle that shook back and forth on her thigh looked bigger than my entire leg, and when she flexed, they instantly snapped into perfection definition with deeply gouged cuts between each muscle group and striations crimping the skin along the edge of her vastus heads. Then she rotated her ankle to show off her calf, which contracted into a blocky mass of rock-hard muscle as big as a volleyball each time she extended her tiny bare foot. It was the most eye-popping display of muscularity I had ever seen in my life. Despite her young age and short stature, Rosalita Rivera had size, shape, and definition in her legs that no other bodybuilder alive—female or male—could match. And it wasn't just her legs. Every single muscle on her body was bulging with mass and shredded with definition.
   And now, after 12 reps of one ton squats, every muscle on her body was glistening with sweat. Her skimpy white baby tee clung to her torso like wet tissue, her perky young breasts and acorn-sized nipples easily visible beneath the white fabric, and the tiny thong of tattered denim that struggled to cover her crotch was so wet with perspiration it had darkened from light blue to navy. I watched in awe as the teenaged she-hulk continued to flex her monumental legs, and I felt alone in the gym that I had once ruled like a king, singled out by the cold light of jealousy. That light illuminated two undeniable truths: first that I wished I could be as strong and muscular as Rosalita Rivera, and second that I never would be—she was the strongest and most muscular human being alive. She was the ultimate alpha.
   Those truths became more painfully apparent as I watched my wife drop to her knees, her body squirming with desire as she raised the measuring tape to Rosalita's sweat-slicked thigh with trembling hands. Then, suddenly, Tiffany collapsed against Rosalita's gargantuan thigh her body going slack for just a second, her breathing heavy and erratic. "You okay down there, blondie?" the musclebound schoolgirl asked, stroking Tiffany's hair gently.
   "Oh... yes..." Tiffany said as she looked up with soft eyes as if pleading for attention while she clung to the musclebound schoolgirl's thigh. "I just... seem to have fainted for just a second."
    "Yeah, I noticed," Rosalita said with an arrogant smirk. "Gym bunnies faint over me all the time. It's one of the perks of having the biggest, strongest, hardest, sexiest muscles in the world."
   "Biggest, strongest, hardest, sexiest..." Tiffany repeated as she drew the measuring tape around the girl's leg and laughed with disbelief at what she saw. "Oh my. Oh my. 45 inches!"
   "How about my calf?" Rosalita asked. "Don't you want to measure that, too?"
   Tiffany nodded eagerly and drew the tape around the flaring blocks of muscle below Rosalita's knee. "33 inches!" she exclaimed. "That's bigger than Jeff's arm."
   "Yeah it is," Rosalita chuckled as she turned her gaze to me. "A lot bigger."
   As the freakishly muscular teenager gently pushed my awestruck wife aside and strutted toward me, I felt my blood freeze with fear and anxiety. "H-how is this possible?" I gulped.
   "It's simple," Rosalita smirked. "I pump iron. I pump serious iron. I pump all the iron."
   I was wilting under Rosalita's unbreakable gaze. She seemed to tower over me despite being a foot shorter. I wanted to run away, but I was frozen in place. Then, to my horror, she noticed my weight belt—and the words 'ultimate alpha' embossed on the leather. "What does that say?" Rosalita asked with a laugh as she tugged at my weight belt, jerking me nearly off my feet as if I were weightless. "You think you're the ultimate alpha? Seriously You?"
   "I... I..." I stammered, desperate to apologize or at least explain myself.
   Rosalita voice was now tinged with anger. "You've got some nerve wearing that thing with me standing right here, lifting more weight than you could even look at and flexing bigger muscles than you could even dream of having," she growled. "It's downright disrespectful. Take that belt off right now!"
   My fingers trembled as I undid my belt, barely aware of what I was doing, as if obedience to the teenaged colossus was hardwired into my DNA. Rosalita snatched the belt from my hands and scoffed as looked at the words embossed upon it. Then she clasped the belt in her slender fingers and tore it in half like it was made of paper, the thick leather and reinforced stitching shredding instantly under the pressure of her impossible strength. "I hope you didn't need that for your bench press," she sneered. "Because my pecs are ready to break out of captivity and maul some weights."

Jeremy Lightning

Wow, really enjoyed this chapter, what an absolute powerhouse Rosalita is! I love that she's so short, but so hugely muscled that she makes this huge guy look tiny, and she's oh so powerful, making that ton of iron look almost easy at she did 12 reps with it. I'm guessing she could've done more if the bar could hold more, now I wonder what kinds of records she's going to break on the bench press?! k+!
Don't forget to K+ if you enjoy my writing.

Great stories about strong and muscular women and girls, hope you enjoy!