+Notable Author: [grbaclig] Stories~collected

[Jeremy Lightning]

Hehe, I don't know what it is, some of the time I do feel bad for the guys in the stories that you post, but then you do something like what Jimmy Lincoln did to make them more terrible than ever, so that it doesn't feel so bad to see the guys destroyed by the powerful females. Same thing with Bubblegum, I was feeling bad for the main guy, until he turned out to be a misogynist pig who starved his girlfriend and lived off her, having her buy his car, and then it didn't feel so bad that he's getting humiliated by Becky in that story. This time as well, I almost wanted to see this turn out better for the guys, who seemingly have been mistreated by Debbie, but now we see that maybe these guys are assholes, maybe they deserve whatever they're going to get. So yeah, great stuff, I look forward to more! k+!

Thanks, Jeremy!  You're one of the truly great FMG storytellers, so if I can pass muster with you I guess I'm doing something right. 

You're very welcome, your skills at storytelling, muscle description, and feats of strength are very good, whenever I see a new chapter from you, I know I'm going to be entertained and most likely aroused, to put it bluntly.

[nickolai]

This ... story ... is ... awesome !!!  Great job!

Please more!

[grbaclig]

Chapter 6 – Be Careful what you Wish for

   Watching Debbie’s muscles move as she brutalized the mill workers was like being drunk on lust, but once I climaxed I was stone cold sober again.  Debbie was running her fingers up and down my thighs, and was pecking kisses onto my neck.  I pulled away again.  “I’m sorry Debbie,” I stuttered.  “I can’t.  I just can’t.”
   Debbie took her hands away from my body and gently combed my hair with her bright red fingernails.  “You seem very conflicted about your sexuality, Sheila,” she said. 
   I blushed.  “I just... I want to wait until the time is right.  Sometimes when I get worked up I can’t control myself and I do stupid things, and everything that you do gets me super worked up.”
   Debbie smiled.  “I can tell,” she said.  “But please don’t be ashamed of who you are.   You’re a beautiful woman, in the bloom of her sexuality.  And feminine sexuality is powerful.”
   As she finished speaking, Debbie turned around and  flexed her powerful, melon-sized buttocks until they rolled like the ocean, the tiny silken fabric of her shorts now just a triangular patch of red between the engorged flesh of her glutes and the muscle-wrapped hardness of her lower back.  She looked over her shoulder and winked.  My clit was so raw from flicking my bean it hurt every time it throbbed, and it throbbed every time I looked at Debbie.  The way her glutes and hamstrings bunched as she swayed gently through the kitchen made me ache. 
   The loading dock was full of shadows, and she moved forward carefully, her calves bunching and relaxing with each step, her huge boobs swinging gently, and the muscles in her back and midsection flaring to life with each twist of her torso.  She was a few yards into the loading dock when she stopped.  “Do you smell something?” she asked.
   “It kind of smells like gasoline,” I said. 
   And then the loading dock erupted into flames.  I screamed and backpedaled into the kitchen.  All I could see through the doorway was a curtain of orange flame.  I could hear guys yelling and jeering in the dock, and I clutched at my heart.  Debbie was bigger, stronger, and faster, than I thought anyone could ever be.  But there was no way she was fireproof.  I kept waiting for her to walk through the fire like the Terminator, or blow it out with her breath like Supergirl.  But she didn’t.  I started to tear up as the flames died down.  It didn't matter how strong she was.  You couldn't punch fire.  And you couldn't outrun it.
   But Debbie could jump, too.
   Almost on cue, she lowered herself down from above the doorway and kipped into the kitchen like a gymnast dismounting a set of rings.  She was grimacing with pain as she dropped to floor, and I saw why.  The soles of her shoes were on fire.  As fast as I could I picked up the jug of water in the water machine.  I thought they used to be heavy, but it felt light as a feather as I lifted it up the almost full jug.  Either all my time at the gym was paying off or I was full of adrenaline, or maybe both.  I spilled the water all over Debbie, but her shoes were covered in gas, and they were still burning.  She kicked frantically.  I tore off my shirt and my shorts, now soaked with water, and one in each hand, flopped them on Debbie’s shoes and pulled.  My panties came off with my shorts, but I hardly noticed.  I was worried about Debbie.  The melting white gym shoes clattered across the kitchenette, just as the flames in the loading dock roared to life again.  “We got plenty of gas, you pumped up dyke!” Billy yelled.
   I doused my shorts, panties and shirt in the sink, then ran back to Debbie.  Her feet looked a little red, but no burnt.  “Does it hurt,” I asked.
   She didn’t say anything.  Her eyes were wide open and she was licking her lips as she stared at my naked body bent over her. 
   I blushed a little bit, and tried to cover my tits with my arms.  Debbie laughed.  “My feet are a little warm, but my pussy is burning up.”
   I laughed and poured some more water on her feet.  They were only a little bit bigger than mine, and they were soft and smooth, with her toes painted the same red as her fingernails.  I rubbed her feet gently.  They were the only soft part of her body that I had touched, except for her tits.  Her huge, firm, jiggling tits.  Crowned by areolas the size of saucers and nipples the size of my thumb.  I had to look away from her to be able to talk.  I couldn't even think straight with her naked body curled before me.  “Can you walk?” I asked, running my hands from her delicate feet to the massive blocks of muscle in her calves.
   “I’ll be fine,” she said.  “But you should check on your clothes.”
   The shorts and panties went up almost instantly.  I guess they were polyester or something.  My shirt was okay.  It was burnt pretty badly but it was kind of like a crop top, but with the waistline burnt and ragged instead of cleanly cut.  And it barely covered my boobs, but it was better than nothing so I put it on.  “The shorts are super flammable,” I said.
   “Good to know,” Debbie said, standing up.  “I won’t want them on when I go back out there.”
   Flames roared to life in the loading dock again as Debbie ripped her shorts off with a flick of her wrist and threw them to the ground.   She casually walked past me and back into the main floor.  Just outside the kitchenette there were a few red switches on the wall.  She flicked one and exhaust fans roared to life in the loading dock, nearly extinguishing the flames.  I could hear Billy swearing, but in another few seconds fire erupted in the dock again, but it was not nearly as intense as before.
   “You can’t go in there,” I squeaked.  “You’re not really invincible.  Are you?”
   Debbie smiled as she walked past me, and winked.  “I guess we’re going to find out,” she said.  “Remember, the door code is 5807.  Be ready to run back if I get into trouble.”
   She casually picked up the jug of water and poured the remainder all over her naked body, soaking her hair and skin.  In the firelight every hard cut of her chiseled physique shimmered as she tossed her hair back, sending droplets of water into the air.  “So hot…” I moaned as her body rippled in the firelight.  Did she know what she was doing to me?
   I was wide-eyed in awe.  Debbie was checking her nails, perfectly relaxed, as she prepared to run into a thousand-square-foot inferno.  Desire and jealousy washed over me in waves like a hurricane as she splashed more water onto her bush.  Debbie was everything that I wanted, and she was also everything that I wanted to be.  She was so strong and so confident, almost daring me to look at her overflowing sexuality and brutally conditioned musculature. 
   I tried to imagine myself being as strong as her, always being in control of every situation, glorying in my sexuality instead of fearing it.  I imagined myself standing over a broken man, blood dripping from my hands.  And it felt good.
   Then the flames died down, and Debbie sprung into the loading dock like a shot.  The dock was lined with sturdy ten-foot high shelves for holding pig iron and coke.  I could see Harry on top of the shelves at the other end of the dock, surrounded by bottles and rags.  So could Debbie, I guess.  She squatted down a bit, her buttocks and quads inflating with power, then leapt onto the nearest shelf.  She had jumped six feet forward and four feet in the air from a standstill, barefoot and completely naked.  It took her less than a second to grab the top shelf and pull her shimmering, rippling body to the top shelf.  She stood for just a moment, facing Harry with her hands on hips, her silver hair blowing in the wind of the fans, her  perfectly pink labia majora pointed directly at me.  Maybe she was a superhero.  Maybe she was invincible.  Harry must have thought so, because as she began to bound across the shelves toward him, droplets of water flicking from her massive tits as they bounced up and down, he scampered down the shelf and started running toward the kitchenette.  He saw me and his eyes lit with rage anger.  I gulped.  Harry was the best linebacker Battery Creek High ever produced, and he was only 23, so he was still really big.  And he was really fast.  Every time I blinked he was ten feet closer, flames licking around his legs as he ran through the gasoline-soaked loading dock.  I looked around the kitchenette for a knife. 
   But I never needed one.  Harry was fast, but Debbie was faster.  He was still about 20 feet from the kitchenette when he screeched to a halt, a look of disbelief on his eyes as he skidded toward the buxom juggernaut that stood in front of him.  If he had seen her flip and dive from the shelves like I did, he would’ve been even more shocked.  She moved like a gymnast in a trampoline store. 
   Harry swung an overhand right at Debbie’s head, launching a fist the size of a coconut at.  It was good punch too, and I could hear then wind whistling over his knuckles, right up until Debbie smacked it aside with an open-handed block.  But Harry followed up with a left to her ribs, and then a right, and then a left.  And then he pulled back, shaking out his hands as his eyes filled with tears and panic.  “Did you think I had gone soft over the last 10 minutes, Harry?” she asked.  “Did you actually think you could hurt this body, with your pathetic little punches?”
   Debbie was showing off again, with one arm behind her head and one behind her waist flexing her abs in front of Harry, as if he didn’t know how hard they were.  Orange tongues of fire licked around her massive corded legs as she laughed at Harry’s hand-wringing, her tiny waist and cobra-shaped back glimmering with water.  If the fire burned, she never let on.  She just kept laughing. 
   Then Harry rushed forward, and wrapped his arms around Debbie’s midsection, locking in a bear-hug.  His face was buried in Debbie’s cleavage, and I expected her to flip out, but she just laughed.  “Do you remember, Harry, what you said earlier?  About how you were going to press your face between my ‘big ol’ jugs’ until you pass out?”
   Harry’s forearms looked really strong as he squeezed with all his might, but Debbie’s back looked even stronger.  And she was relaxed.  Her body didn’t give an inch, and I knew why.  I had felt its incredible hardness in the shower as I rubbed soap on her impossibly muscled torso, running my hands over every knot of bulging muscled. 
   Debbie held her arms out wide and then clasped them in front of her.  And then I heard Harry scream, his voice muffled by Debbie’s gigantic hooters, which had now swallowed Harry’s head completely.  Two quick palm-strikes to the shoulders made Harry relax his grip, and soon Debbie was standing on her feet, laughing off Harry’s frantic body blows as he tried to free himself from her pectoral prison.  He tried hammer fists to the ribs, he tried punching her biceps and he tried to bulldog her, but Debbie didn’t move.  She didn’t even flinch.  “My pecs are even more formidable than my tits, aren’t they Harry?” she asked.  “That must really hurt to be trapped in there.  I wonder how bad it would hurt if I really flexed.”
   And then Debbie turned her wrists, and her chest erupted into slabs of pulsating brawn, and her tits turned upward, her two-inch long diamond-hard nipples pointing directly at me.  I groaned with desire.  Harry’s muffled screams turned to muffled howls, but I could barely hear him over my own moaning.  I was rubbing my exposed pussy with frenzied lust, and I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to.  I came the second I heard Harry’s neck snap. 
   “You should be flattered, Harry,” she said as she relaxed her chest, and his lifeless body dropped to the floor.  “That’s how my husband died, too.  Now let’s see where your little friend is hiding…”
   On cue, Billy popped out from behind a shelf, and hurled a Molotov cocktail at Debbie, rushing immediately behind it, a fire axe clutched in his hand.  Debbie stood her ground.  She squared her shoulders, and as the bottle hurtled toward her, she swung her hulking arm out and shattered it with the edge of her hand.  Burning liquid fell to the ground a foot in front of her, leaving a small patch of fire burning on her left hand and another burning on her right shin as she stood, unflinching, waiting for Billy.  He swung the axe downward, screaming like a man possessed, but Debbie caught it effortlessly with her right hand.  Billy let go of the axe almost instantly, shrinking back, as though he knew he wouldn’t be able to hurt her.  Debbie smiled, and blew out the fire on her left hand.  She extinguished the fire on her right leg by pivoting her hips into a devastating kick that bent Billy in half and dropped him to the ground in agony with blood pouring out of his mouth.  Debbie twirled the fire axe like a baton.  “Do you remember, Billy, what you said earlier?  About how you were going to stick something up my pussy and make me scream?”
   Billy couldn’t have answered if he wanted to.  He was barely breathing.  But he was watching.  He was watching as Debbie slowly slid the axe handle up inside her vag, first one inch.  Then another.  Then another.  Then another.  Finally she put her hands on her hips and smiled.  Then the axe began to shake.  Then it began to rise up and down in a chopping motion.  Then the chopping motion got more vigorous.  “You have got to be kidding me,” I whispered, laughing in disbelief.
“My vagina is stronger than any muscle in your body, Billy,” she said.  “I wonder what would happen if I really flexed.”
   The fire axe stopped moving as Debbie’s waist, buttocks, adductors, and abs tightened.  And then the whooshing of the exhaust fans was overpowered by the sound of wood splitting, as the axe handle cracked lengthwise, the head falling to the ground as Debbie’s beautiful, delicately ruffled pussy exhibited the same brutal power that I had seen in her arms, legs, back, shoulders, and chest.  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I said, collapsing in a pool of my own sex juice.
   A second later, I looked up to see Debbie standing over me, smiling.  “For a girl who wants to wait for the right time, you’re sure not picky about the place,” she giggled as she helped me up and brushed my hair from my face.  I blushed and smiled.  “Sometimes when I get worked up I can’t control myself and I do stupid things, and everything that you-“
   “I know, I know,” Debbie said, and she kissed me gently on the forehead.  “Take your time.  I’ll always be here for you.”
   Despite all the time I spent rubbing her body, dripping with lust at the sight of her naked flesh, and reveling in her displays of dominance, that kiss was the most intimate moment that we shared.  I felt safe, and I felt loved, so I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around Debbie and laid my head against one of her breasts.  It was like a pillow from heaven.  But when I opened my eyes, I saw one of her huge, jutting nipples just within range of my tongue.  My mouth started to water and my lips started to quiver, so I pulled away.  I had to stay in control.
   Then a huge crash at the other end of the loading dock made us spin around.  Somehow, the guys—what few of them remained—had managed to upend one of the shelves, and the door into the rear storage areas was now blocked with a pile of i-beams, ingots, and pig iron.  “Sheila,” Debbie said, “Maybe you should go upstairs so you can rinse off.  It looks like I’m going to be busy for a while.”

[Jeremy Lightning]

Again, another amazing chapter! Can't say enough how much I enjoy seeing an Amazon like Debbie prove her superiority time after time, and this time, she used her lady parts to destroy the men, one literally, one mentally, of course, Sheila couldn't help but being turned on by this Goddess who continues to break the minds and bodies of the men who Sheila used to think were impressive, strong and manly, defeating whatever feeble attempts to stop her without even appearing to fully be trying, Can't wait to see what she does next! K+!

[grbaclig]

Chapter 7 – Pumping Iron

   It was eerily quiet up in the gym, and I was alone with my thoughts for the first time.  My thoughts were all about Debbie. 
   I moved through the gym, each station loaded with a staggering amount of weight.  The machines, barbells, and dumbbells were so much heavier than anything I saw at the gym.  Every time I looked at a station, an image of Debbie appeared in my mind.  I ran my fingers over the barbell in the squat rack and counted over 2,000 pounds, and I could see her buttocks and thighs pumping and dripping with sweat as she knocked out set after set, as though she were there with me.  When I touched the 1,500 pounds on the bench press I could see her pectorals popping with such force that they smacked together audibly as she reached the apex of her press.  I looked at that mountain of weight, and imagined myself pressing it, bulging with hard, vein streaked muscles as I pushed myself to the breaking point.
   Then I caught sight of myself in the mirror.  In my head I knew I was a beauty queen.  In my head I knew I had a tight, fit body.  But in my heart I was pathetic compared to Debbie.  I took off my burnt shirt and my gym shoes and looked at myself again.  I still knew I was hot, but I still felt ugly.  So I did what I imagined Debbie would do in these situations.  I worked out.  The barbells and dumbbells were too loaded up to even re-rack, so I just went to the machines.  I did some chest flys, hamstring curls, and bicep isolation curls, and I was feeling pretty good.  By the time I knocked out my sets of shoulder presses my hands and feet were starting to hurt.  I guess they got burnt a little bit in the fire.  But the rest of me was feeling great, so I kept pumping iron. 
   In a few minutes I was dripping with sweat, and my hands and feet were hurting worse, but I felt great.  I felt hot, and when I looked in the mirror I looked hot, too.  I took my time in the shower, rubbing body was all over myself, appreciating the caps of muscle on my shoulders, and the cuts of my abdominals, just like I imagined Debbie would do in these situations.  I twisted my nipples and closed my eyes as I thought of her massively pumped muscles after a workout, soap suds streaming down her impossible bulges.
   After the shower, my hands and feet were bright pink, and hurt pretty badly.  I just smiled, thrust my chest out and ignored the pain, just like I imagined Debbie would do in these situations.  I remembered seeing a first aid kit in the locker room, so I went in there to check it out.  It was pretty well stocked, and in a few minutes I had my hands and keep wrapped in ointment, gauze, and bandages.  I checked for more clothes, but the only things left were Debbie’s size.  They would hang off me like a tent and maybe get snagged if I had to run.  And I wanted to look sexy for Debbie, so I got the little scissors out of the first aid kit, and grabbed one of the huge shirts out of the lockers.  Maybe I could at least cut a makeshift belt so I could hold a pair of shorts up.  I didn’t want to walk around with my twat exposed.  Except I kind of did.
   Then , as I was cutting strips of fabric, I saw myself in the mirror in the locker room.  With my muscles pumped from a workout and my hands and feet wrapped, I kind of looked like one of the kickboxers Pavel showed me tape of when I went to the gym.  I laughed and hopped to my feet, setting up in my stance.  I looked pretty hot, I thought to myself.  So I tied a strip of t-shirt around my head like a headband, and threw some foot jabs and knee strikes.  I could see myself in the mirror, and I got a little excited to see my tits bounce and my obliques bunch up with muscle.  But there wasn’t a lot of room in the locker room so I went out to the gym, naked except for my bandages and headband, and ran through some strike drills.  I was kind of sweaty again, but I felt good as I looked at myself in the gym mirror.  I tried a pec dance, and to my surprise my boobs actually bounced a little.  I could see a little wave of muscle in my chest, and I couldn’t help but smile.  I straightened up and put my hands on my hips, just like I imagined Debbie would do in these situations.    “I’m pretty damn hot,” I said out loud.
   “You sure are,” called a voice from the sauna. 
    It was Jimmy.  I yelped and covered my vag with one hand and my rack with the other.  “What the hell are you doing in here Jimmy!?” I demanded.
   “I was hiding under the stairs,” he said, his eyes wide as he looked at my bare, sculpted flesh.  “I heard Debbie give you code.  I thought it would be safe up here.”
   “Jimmy, I’m mad at you, I said firmly, turning slightly away so that he had less to stare at.  “I can’t believe what you wrote on that window, after all we’ve been through.”
   Jimmy was drooling now.  It was gross.  He wasn’t looking at me with yearning desire like Debbie did.  He was just a wild-eyed animal.  And he was walking toward me now.  “Sheila, I’m sorry,” he said, but his eyes were locked on my torso.  “I don’t…  I didn’t mean to…  I have to touch you Sheila.”
   “Jimmy, no!” I said as he drew closer, his fat body wobbling slightly.
   “I always imagined this, but you’re even hotter than in my fantasies.”
   I was back away now, but I didn’t want to uncover myself to run or to fight back.  “Jimmy!” I yelled.
   “So much hotter,” he breathed.
   Jimmy wasn’t in great shape, but he was bigger than me, and he was crazed with animal lust.  I was scared.  For about a second.  But then something clicked inside me, and I got mad.  I don’t even remember throwing the punch.  All I remember is looking at my bloody fist, and then looking down at Jimmy.  Blood was pouring out of his nose, and he looked up at me with a combination of surprise and anger.  It was there, in that gym, that I realized that I could be stronger than a man.  “And why not?” I thought to myself as I looked at my lean, sweaty body in the mirror, the bandages on my left hand stained with blood.
   I flexed my left arm in the mirror and watched a smile creep over my face as a tight little bicep popped up, not terribly big, but nicely defined.  I had pretty good shoulders too, I had to admit.  So why shouldn’t I be stronger than a guy?   I lifted weights.  I took kickboxing classes.  Why shouldn’t I be able to kick Jimmy’s ass?  In fact, why shouldn’t I just kick his ass right here and now?  “Stand up, jimmy,” I said, turning to face him, my hands on my hips, showing him every inch of my tight, toned, and tanned young body.  “Stand up so I can kick your ass.”
   Jimmy spat blood onto the floor of the gym and looked up at me.  I couldn’t tell if he was angry, horny, scared, confused or all of those things put together.  It didn’t matter.  I felt stronger every second he gazed up at me, just like I imagined Debbie would feel in these situations.  “You owe me, Sheila,” he said, through his busted lips.  “All I ever wanted was to feel your body against mine.  I want to feel your thighs.”
In my head, I kind of always knew that Jimmy just wanted to fuck me.   But in my heart I had tried to be nice to him.  But in my body I was pulsing with anger.  “Oh you’re going to feel my body alright,” I said, “But I really, really think you’re going to regret it.”
   Then my instincts took over.  I flashed forward with a knee curve to Jimmy’s ribs.  Then an elbow to his face.  Then a flurry of punches to his stomach.  It was incredible.  I felt like I was watching myself from afar as I pummeled Jimmy from a dozen different directions at once, and I was hot.  My stomach hardened into a six-pack of chiseled abdominal muscles as I swung my hips around and whipped the hard curves of my leg into his flank.  My delts flared into prominence as I trapped him in a clench so tight that his attempts to escape made me laugh out loud.  My tits bounced playfully as sunk a flying knee into his chin, and he collapsed to the floor.  “Stand up, jimmy,” I said, smiling down at him, my hands on my hips, sweat dripping down my naked body, my nipples as big and hard as lug nuts.  “Stand up so I can kick your ass.”
   I don’t remember Jimmy getting up.  But I remembered my body lashing out with power as a I threw punch after punch, kick after kick.  He tried to hide behind the weight stations, but I threaded my kicks and punches through the open spaces in the racks.  He tried to run away, but I was always ahead of him, my fists rocketing into every vulnerable spot on his body.  The feel of the wind on my labia was incredible.  It made want to open my hips a little more with each kick, and each time I opened my hips, my kicks got a little stronger.  And each time my kicks got a little stronger, Jimmy screamed a little louder.
   I was laughing as I looked down at the bandages on my hands and feet.  They were red now, stained through with Jimmy’s blood.  He wasn’t moving.  “Stand up, jimmy,” I screamed, rolling my shoulders and shifting my weight from one leg to another as I checked myself out in the gym mirrors.  “Stand up so I can kick your ass.  Again.”
   He wasn’t moving, but I heard him whimper.  “I’m sorry, Sheila,” he sobbed.  “You’re just so pretty I couldn’t control myself.”
   That made me really mad.
   Who did he think he was to talk like that?  Did he have any idea how hard I had to struggle to control my own sexual appetite every fucking day?  Did he have any idea how many nights I cried myself to sleep after a disastrous love affair?  Did he have any idea how hard it was to stand upright as I watched Debbie Thorson crush his coworkers to bits, my hips and pelvis jerking with unstoppable currents of lust? “Stand up, Jimmy,” I growled.
   He didn’t move, but he kept whimpering.
   Out of the corner of my eye I saw myself in the mirror, gleaming with sweat, toned and tanned, my tits standing proudly like cones of nubile glory as droplets of sweat rolled down their perfect tanned slopes and gathered on my nipples.  And as the droplets of sweat reached my nipples, I tingled all over with the chill of the air conditioner.  I turned to the mirror, and I saw the woman that I always wanted to be.  Strong, sexy, and confident.  “Stand up, jimmy,” I said, kicking him in the ribs.
   He wailed.  I guess I broke those ribs earlier.  The thought of how helpless he was as I battered him with punches, kicks, knees, and elbows made me tingle all over.  “Fuck you Shelia,” he mumbled.  “You and your dyke bitch lover.”
   That’s when I got mad.
   I screamed as I drove one punch after another into Jimmy’s kidneys and shoulder blades as he squealed and begged for mercy.  I drove heel strikes into his hamstrings, one after another as he tried to roll out of the way.  “Stand up, jimmy,” I screamed.  “So I can kill you.”
   “No no no,” he sobbed.  “I’m so sorry, Sheila.  I never-“
   But it was too late.  I had lost control.  With one hand around Jimmy’s neck and one hand around his right thigh, I clean lifted him up to my shoulders.  My delts and biceps were on fire with pain, but I couldn’t stop.  I was coursing with rage and the primal need for dominance.  The cool air of the gym on my pussy and nipples made me twitch like an electric current as I jerked Jimmy’s body over my head with a scream.  My lower back and triceps were wavering with strain, and if I had any self control I would have dropped him to the ground.  But I was too far gone.  “Do you remember, Jimmy, when you said that you wanted to know how my thighs feel?”
   Jimmy sobbed.  He might have said something.  I didn’t hear him.  Instead I brought him crashing down over my leg, spine first against the swelling muscle of my quad.  All at once I felt the relief of Jimmy’s body weight on my back, the sound of Jimmy’s spine breaking, and the knowledge that I had truly overpowered a man in the most primal way possible.  As I dropped Jimmy’s lifeless body to the ground, I trembled with orgasm.  I was getting off on my own feminine power, just like I imagined Debbie did in these situations.
   I felt a warm trail of ejaculate creeping down my thighs as my breathing returned to normal.  My back and shoulders felt fine, as if hoisting Jimmy’s body into the air was something they were made to do.  And in the mirror behind me, I saw Debbie Thorson, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.  She was rubbing the silvery hair of her bush and her nipples were so hard that it must have hurt.  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she said.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Hehe, in a way I enjoyed this, I mean, Jimmy seemed to deserve it, even though he was begging Sheila to stop, he did write the nastiest thing out there that I think probably sealed his fate, he was going to die, one way or the other, but I think it was more cathartic that Sheila was the one to do it, Debbie had been the one in charge to that point, she had beaten and killed all the rest of them and that made Sheila hot, but Sheila, realizing her power as a strong, fit, trained woman was just as hot in many ways. She is definitely not on Debbie's level as far as strength and muscle are concerned, but if the question is asked can she be lethal, that was just answered here. And now that Debbie has seen her in action, maybe Debbie will train Sheila to where she can get more on Debbie's level. That being said of course, I still look forward to Debbie demonstrating her power more and more. I was picturing this next chapter as her against all the heavy metal that the men spilled on the floor. But now that this part was introduced, I really don't know what to expect, I'll just sit back, read, and most probably enjoy. k+!

[seldom]

Great story!

[sevenpeight]

 

K+++

Thanks for another fantastic installment!

[grbaclig]

Chapter 8 – Heavy Machinery

   As powerful as I felt when I killed Jimmy, I felt even more powerful watching Debbie struggle with lust as she watched my tight, sculpted body glisten with sweat.  I blushed a little bit, but I was beaming with pride.  “You were right Debbie,” I said.  “It felt incredible.”
   “I heard screaming,” she said.  “And I thought there was trouble.
   “Oh there was trouble, all right,” I said flexing my biceps. 
   Debbie puckered and moaned.  “Sheila I had no idea that you...”
   “You had no idea that I what?  That I’ve been pumping iron and kicking ass every night after work?”
   Debbie was running her fingers along the toned lines of my biceps.  The delicate scrape of her red nails on my flesh made me tingle all over.  “Oh Sheila.  I came up here to get clothes for us because I know you’re not comfortable with your sexuality…”
   “Do I look uncomfortable with my sexuality,” I said, tweaking my nipples and running my hands down my ribs and waistline.  The power I felt when I beat Jimmy to a pulp was incredible.  I lost control now and I was wanting to do stupid things.  “And I don’t want to wear clothes.  I have a better idea.”
   A few moments later I had my makeup kit out of my purse and spread on the floor.  “This is more makeup than I’ve ever owned in my entire life,” Debbie said.
   “That’s because you don’t need makeup,” I said.  It was true.  Even after an hour of fighting off men and industrial equipment, Debbie’s face was still perfect, glowing with life, traced with fine lines and framed by shining silver hair.  “Not on your face anyway.”
   Using my black eye shadow and white eyeliner I drew skull-and-crossbones designs on Debbie’s nipples.  Her areolas were so big I ran out of eyeliner, and had to settle for a black lightning bolt on her cooch, framing the gray hair of her bush.  She cooed and purred as I drew on her, he gigantic muscles contracting and tensing as I ran the brushes and pencils over her most sensitive parts.  I was so enraptured with her enormity I had to stop a few times and take a deep breath.  The more time I spent drawing on her massive rippling body, the close I got to doing something stupid.  “The best part,” I said.  “Is that it’s non toxic and made from fruit extracts.  That means I can lick it off.”
   Debbie groaned with desire as I drew on myself.  Two smiley faces on my nipples and a rainbow right above my pussy.  “Sheila I am going to do things to you can’t imagine,” she said absently as her eyes followed my finger around the curves of my erogenous zones.
   “Don’t be so sure,” I said as I stood up, running my hands along the rock-hard bulges of her biceps and brachialis, finally stroking her manicured nails.  “I have a wild imagination.”
   Debbie tossed her hair and looked at herself in the mirror.  She smiled and thrust her unbelievable chest outward as she pumped her arms into a double biceps flex that made my cry out with lust.  “Let’s go smash some cockroaches,” she said.
   I wrapped myself around her, my head swallowed up by her jiggling tits, my arms straining to fit around her gargantuan lats, my legs fighting for purchase against the rock hard cabled muscles of her thighs.  “Make it bad, Debbie,” I begged, tears filling my eyes as I rubbed myself raw against the unyielding hardness of her abdominals.  “Make it really, really bad.”

   A few stray i-beams blocked the door to the rear storage area.  Debbie threw them out of the way like kindling.  We crept slowly through the heavy iron door that separated the warehouse from the mill.  Debbie closed it behind us, then with a swift kick from her bare foot, she smashed the frame around the hinges, wedging the door closed.  The rear storage area was a maze of shelves and stacked up ingots.  I followed behind Debbie in the dim light of the warehouse, mesmerized by the movement of the shadows along the muscular contours of her back, glutes, and legs.  I wanted to do bad things to her.  Really bad things.
   My arms, shoulders and back were burning from when I picked Jimmy up earlier, but my legs felt stronger than ever.  And my cooch was absolutely throbbing.
   Ahead of us the stacks of ingots gave way into a large open area that was blanketed by shadows.  There were only two guys left, Vince and Roy.  I wondered what where they were hiding.  Then I was blinded by a flash of light from the darkened corners of the warehouse.  I heard the roaring of an engine as I rubbed my eyes and turned away.  I couldn’t see but I knew what was coming.  It was the forklift.  Vince worked in the warehouse and had the keys, and sure enough he was barreling toward us with Roy hanging off the side, waving flaming 2x4 and screaming bloody murder.  My life passed before my eyes as the roaring got closer.  I ran toward an aisle of shelves, but it moved so much faster empty than it did when it was filled with ingots, and I knew I wouldn’t get out of the way in time.  But then it stopped.
   The engine roared with strain and the lights drifted skyward as Debbie stood, one fork in each hand, her legs and back trembling with effort as she held the forklift up.  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I said.
   I was sweating with desire as Debbie’s muscle began to bulge, ripple and swell.  First her calves, then her hamstrings, then her quads, then her glutes.  Her legs were like braided cables of steel woven together into distinctly feminine curves and bulges, from the chiseled angles of her diamond-shaped calves to the round expanse of her buttocks.
   Then it was her core.  Her lats, obliques, ribs, and abs seemed to inflate and harden into chiseled blocks of smooth, perfectly toned flesh.  They looked impossibly hard, like she was a statue or the Olympian ideal cast from bronze.  But Debbie Thorson was more than ideal.  Her slim waist and the flaring expanse of her torso were wrapped in muscles that most people didn’t even know existed.
   Then it was her back.  Here teres, serratus and traps seemed were so big and so cut they seemed to separate into muscle groups that didn’t exist on other, lesser physical specimens.  And everyone was a lesser specimen than Debbie Thorson.  As she strained against the 3 ton machine,  her back muscles expanded and contracted, making an array of muscle shapes that no other human being could build.
   She was winning.  The forklift began to tip to the left as she raised her head and screamed.
   Then her chest and shoulders started to grow.  Her shoulders looked like volleyballs that were being overinflated, bulging around the seams.  Her pecs erupted into slabs of muscle that forced her mammoth tits up in the air with so much force I could hear them.  Slap against her chest even over the struggling of the forklift engine.
   Then it was her arms.  Her biceps, triceps, and forearms bunched and contracted into throbbing knots of feminine power, forcing her brachiallis and brachioradialis to swell into a size and prominence I would be lucky to see in my biceps.
   I didn’t have to rub my clit or twist my nipples or even move.  I came just looking at her.  And that was all the opening that Roy needed.  My stomach exploded in pain as he brought the burning 2x4 into my stomach with all his might.  I screamed and coughed, and he hit me again.  And it hurt even worse.  I was crumpled on the ground, my eyes blurry with tears as he brought the board down on my naked back.  “You just a little girl, Sheila!” he yelled.  “And little girls shouldn’t play with fire!  Do you hear me, Sheila?”
   And that’s when something clicked inside me, and I got mad.  Really mad.
   I think Roy hit me one or two more times as I stood up, but I didn’t really feel anything but rage.  I think my eyes cleared, but I couldn’t really see anything but a red mist.  The next time Roy swung his board I was ready, and I caught it in my right hand.  Fire and all.  And it stopped.  He swung with all his might and I stopped him with one hand.  I think the fire burned, but all I could feel was power.  And it felt great.
   “I hear you,” I said, looking him in his frightened eyes and smiling.  “But you need to call me ‘ma’am’.”
    I don’t even remember launching the kick.  But I remember the rush of air against my pussy as spun my hips around.  And I remember staring down and broken smear of Roy’s skull on the floor.  Then my eyes went back to Debbie.
   She was even bigger now.  My eyes were bulging so much they hurt.  My clit was so flushed with blood I could feel my heartbeat in it.  The hair, the tits, the ass, the muscles.  She was like Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton, Jennifer Lopez, and the She-Hulk all rolled into one.  And she was all mine.
   I didn’t care about the lights because all I wanted was to touch Debbie.  I didn’t care about the forklift because I knew Debbie was stronger.  I didn’t care about losing control, because I didn’t care about anything but Debbie.  I threw myself at her, hanging my arms around her massive ass and rubbing my nose into her vagina.  She laughed with pleasure and anger.
   “Do you remember, Vince, what I said earlier?  About what I did to the union?  Do you want to see how that car overturned?”
   And then with a yell, Debbie torqued her massive body with such force that I had to dig my nails into her chiseled buttocks to avoid getting thrown across the warehouse.  And then the engine shut off, as Vince’s smashed body leaked blood from beneath the overturned forklift.
   I was gasping with desire as I stared up at Debbie, and ran my hands over the braided immensity of her quads.  “That’s the last of them,” she said proudly, looking down at me.  “Did you like how crushed them Sheila?”
   “Oh God yes,” I moaned as I ran my tongued down her abdominal ridges and kissed her belly button.
   “I wanted to show you what I can do with my body, Shelia,” she said.
   “Body,” I said absently.  “So big.  So hard.”
   I was busy staring at her sex.  Even her vagina was perfect.  Bright pink and delicate in stark contrast to the hulking mass of her body.  Then I felt fingers under my chin tilting my head up, and was eye-to-eye with Miss Thorson.  “My eyes are up here, Sheila,” she cooed. 
   But I didn’t’ blush.  Not this time.  Not anymore. 
   “Let’s go upstairs,” I purred as I tickled her incredible labia.  “I want to show you what my body can do.”

[Jeremy Lightning]

Another great short, but incredibly awesome chapter! Man, so much female power, I love that Sheila has overcome her shyness and has seemingly become a Goddess in her own right, though she still worships at the alter of Debbie, which is right to do, since Debbie is supreme, but Sheila has really come into her own, and in most ways, she would be worshiped by me, if Debbie wasn't around. But why worship one, when I can worship both? From afar, I mean, because I don't think either one of them likes men, or will allow them to get anywhere near, even if they're a nice guy like I am. Oh well, a man can still admire from afar. k+!

[BossRose]

Well done once again! My favourite thing about this chapter was that we got to see how enthralled Debbie was with seeing Sheila

[grbaclig]

Chapter 9 – The Sweet Spot

   In less than a second, Debbie had flung me over her shoulder like a sack of flour.  She was squeezing my ass as she strutted to door that she had previously wedge shut.  I couldn’t see anything around the sprawling immensity of Debbie’s back, but I feel her straighten up, and I could see her lift her leg to kick.  Then with a crash she started moving forward again.  I looked down at the crumpled remains of the warehouse door as she stepped over it.  I ran my fingers along the impossibly hard ridges of her back, and squeezed her huge, bulbous glutes.  Or at least I tried to.  They were as hard as they rest of her muscles, but I was so fired with lust I wasn’t about to give up.  At least not until I broke a nail.  Debbie laughed.  “You’re getting a little carried away back there,” she said.
   She didn’t know the half of it.
   A second later we were back in the gym.  Debbie had pulled me off of her shoulder and set me down on a weight bench.  I ran my fingers along the plates and along my thighs as she put her silver hair up into a bun, her biceps bunching and contracting into massive globes of feminine power.  “You wanted to show me something?” she asked, shifting her hips from side to side, making her incredible midsection dance with ripples of chiseled muscle.
   I was so turned on that I was starting to cry.  Waves of desire were sweeping over me, making me tremble.  “Lie down,” I pouted.  “I want to lick you.”
   “Oh Sheila I thought you would never ask,” Debbie said with a wink, and then lowered her hulking body onto the mat in the middle of the room. 
   I put on a show of strutting toward her, gyrating and shaking my tight young body, watching as Debbie’s eyes followed me hungrily, her nipples erupting into two inch long spikes of lust under the makeup that I had painted them with.  I straddled her and sat down on her stomach.  It was as hard as stone bench, but it was warm, and slick with sweat.  I leaned forward and nuzzled my nose into Debbie’s pectorals, smelling her sweat and feeling the pulsating slabs of her chest muscles against my face.  I kissed her gently on each pec, then brought myself face to face with her incredible beauty, my hands resting on her enormous shoulders.  “I love you, Debbie,” I said, and then I pressed my lips into hers with a quick kiss.
   And then again for a deeper kiss.  Our tongues immediately began to wrestle, and I felt Debbie’s soft, but terrifyingly strong hand rubbing the small of my back.  I was rubbing my pussy along the deep, hard ridges of her abdominals as I pulled away from the kiss and sat up straight.  “You’re a very good kisser,” Debbie said as she guided my body as it slid along her muscle-studded midsection.
   “I’ve kissed a lot of girls over the years,” I said, folding my arms behind my head.  “Watch this.  I’ve been trying something.”
   I did my pec dance again, my full, firm tits bouncing lightly as I continued to rub my sex on Debbie’s abs.  It wasn’t a great pec dance, but it was enough to make Debbie squeal with delight.  She reached up and gently twisted my nipples once, then twice.  And that was it.  When I felt her delicate fingers on my engorged nipples, it was like a switch had been flipped.  I totally lost control.
   With a scream I threw myself onto Debbie and forced my tongue deep into her mouth, pinching her nipples as hard as I could.  She squealed with a mix of pleasure and pain, her cry trapped in my throat as I pressed my tongue harder and harder against hers.  I pulled away from her again, and brought my mouth down on her gigantic left nipple.  I could barely fit my mouth over the areola.
   “Sheila I never expected this,” Debbie gasped.
   And then she stopped gasping and started screaming as I began to work my tongue around her nipple with speed and power that no other woman could match.  At least none of the hundreds of women that I had fucked in boarding school, high school, college, or since.  When I finally sat up again, I had sucked the makeup completely off of Debbie’s nipple, and she was squirming and covered in sweat.  I think she said something, but I couldn’t hear.  The only sense I had was desire.  It was like someone else was in control of my body.  And they wanted me to do bad things.  Really really bad things.
   I grabbed Debbie right boob with my hands, at least as best I could.  It was huge and soft and perfectly round, and I dragged my hair over it just a little as I put my mouth on her other areola.  She screamed again, and bucked just a little as I licked and sucked her huge, diamond-hard nipple until it was perfectly clean and shining with spit.  Debbie was too sweaty to sit on now, so I straddled her as I pulled myself up her hulking torso.  Her pecs were so big I could hold them like slabs of rock as I climbed up the mountain of muscle and tits that was Debbie Thorson.  I kissed her again, even harder.  She screamed again, so I pushed harder.  So she screamed more, and I pushed even harder.  I sat up again, and wiped her spit from my mouth.  I had a pretty good grip on her torso with my legs, so I started sliding my pussy up and down her abs again.  “Oh my God Shelia,” Debbie moaned.  “What are you doing to me?”
   At least I think that’s what she said.  I really couldn’t focus on anything other than the heaving globes of flesh that bounced up and down as she gasped for air.  So I reached out and grabbed her nipples.  “When a woman is aroused,” I snarled, “her nipples are so sensitive that you can use them to force her to do almost anything.”
   And then with a twist I made Debbie arch her incredible back, sliding my cooch down the ridges of her abs and making me moan with pleasure.  And with another twist she relaxed and I slid back down.  And again and again.  It was like her huge, hard nipples were the knobs to a roller coaster than only my pussy could ride. I was completely gone now.  I was a tornado of lust, without a care in the world.   And it felt great.
   “Please Sheila,” Debbie gulped as she trembled with orgasm.  “Please stop.”
   I threw myself onto her, grabbing a handful of her silver hair.  “No!”  I growled.  “This will never stop!  We are going to fuck forever!”
   I could see a look of fear in Debbie’s eyes.  I had seen it before in women that I had fucked in boarding school, high school, college, or since.  But I couldn’t stop myself.  I was completely out of control.  Debbie tried to grab my shoulders, but I was too slick with sweat, and slid off her, and buried my face in her silver bush.  My tongue moved with power, speed, and skill that no penis or vibrator could hope to match, and in seconds I was covered in Debbie’s cum, and her legs were trembling.  I looked up and wiped her juice from my mouth.  In the mirror, I could see myself, toned, tanned, and dripping with sweat, with my nostrils flaring and my eyes burning.  I looked hot. 
   “Sheila please,” Debbie begged, as her bulging muscles trembled and shook with sexual gratification.  “Please stop.  Just for a second. It’s too much.”
   “No!” I growled, thrusting my fingers into her tight, 50-year-old vagina, and stroking every nerve ending.  “Do you remember, Debbie, what you said earlier?  About how water pollution couldn’t be responsible for all the girls in town with strained jaws and bruised pelvises?”
   “Sheila, please-“
   “Well you were right.  I’m responsible for all the girls in town with strained jaws and bruised pelvises.”
   And then I went down again, my nose resting on Debbie’s engorged clit, my tongue exploring every inch of her vagina.  Debbie bucked, and shook, and screamed, and begged for mercy.  But I couldn’t stop.  I wanted her too bad.  Then I felt pressure on my head, as Debbie Thorson’s massive thighs began to squeeze.  “Sheila,” she panted, “I don’t want to hurt you.  But you have to stop.  I can’t take it.  You’re too much.”
   “No!”  I yelled from beneath the massive steely prison of her legs.  “I want your pussy on my face forever!”
   And then Debbie started to squeeze.  Things were going dark.  I only had one chance.  So I stuck out my tongue and wiggled it around.  Finally, the tip of my tongue found the fringes of Debbie’s labia, and I started to lick.  And Debbie started to give.  And in a second, I pulled Debbie’s thighs apart like they were wet noodles as she quaked with orgasm after orgasm.
   I stood up and looked down at her.  Legs strong enough to stop industrial machinery, arms strong enough to bend steel, a chest strong enough to shrug off blows from solid steel, and a back strong enough to overpower a 3 ton forklift.  And she was helpless before me.  Her beautiful features were flushed with effort and her gray hair was strewn about the mat as she gasped for air, sweat running off of her shockingly defined musculature.  Debbie may have been a muscle goddess, but I was a sex goddess.  “Did that feel good?” I asked as I admired myself in a nearby mirror.
   Debbie laughed and sobbed at the same time.  “Oh my God Sheila,” she croaked.  “It felt like there was a hurricane in my vagina.  What did you do to me?”
   “The same thing you’re about to do to me,” I said as I sat down on Debbie’s chest, my butt parked on the rippling bulk of her pecs, and my cooch just inches from her face.
   “Sheila I can’t take anymore,” Debbie said.  “You’re too much… Oh my God what is that smell?”
   “That’s me, Debbie,” I purred.  “I know you like it.  All the girls do.  I can’t go to female doctors anymore because once they get near my vag they leave their husbands and wind up on my doorstep.  I think it’s called pheromones.”
   Debbie whimpered and beautiful lips puckered involuntarily.  “It’s so beautiful, so pink,” she sighed.
   “Beg me,” I said.  “Beg me to let you eat my pussy.”
   Debbie tried to resist.  For about a second.  “Please,” she squeaked.  “Please let me eat your pussy.”
   “Okay,” I giggled as I reached behind me and fiddled with Debbie’s gigantic nipples, making her arch her back, and sliding my sex right down into her face.  “Merry Christmas,” I said.
   Now it was my turn to scream.  Debbie’s tongue was going places that no one had ever been before, caressing nerves inside me that I didn’t know I had.  And I wanted more.  I grabbed fistfuls of her silvery hair and pressed my twat into her face as hard as I could.  She whimpered, but she kept licking.  And licking and licking.  I felt like I was being struck by lightning.  Each stroke of her tongue made me jerk and tremble.  And it felt great.
   Finally, I exploded.  The force of my orgasm threw me backward, off of Debbie’s body, ejaculate trailing from my throbbing vagina as I fell to the floor.

   A few minutes later, I was admiring myself in the mirror as I did some biceps curls, my tight, sweat-drenched body still glowing from the fuck session with Debbie.  Debbie was still on the mat, shaking and covered in sweat, her hair strewn about like a halo of silver, tears of mascara running down her gently wrinkled cheeks.  “Debbie,” I said, “can you give the guys at the mill a raise?  You know, the ones you didn’t kill.”
Debbie swallowed and gasped for air.  “Yes Sheila,” she said.
   I set the weights down and crawled down onto the mat.  Even though I had just had dozens of paralyzing orgasms tear through my body, the sight of Debbie Thorson’s hulking body made me lick lips with lust.  “Debbie, can you bring back the scholarship fund?”
“Yes Sheila,” Debbie moaned as I traced circles around her areloas with my fingernails.   
   My eyes were bulging as I watched Debbie’s incredible body ripple and throb on the sweat soaked mat.  “Debbie can you show me how to get great big muscles like you?”
   Then Debbie’s eyes popped open.  They were twinkling with desire.  “Oh yes Sheila,” she purred.
   And we laughed and laughed until we were ready for another go.

The End

[Jeremy Lightning]

Wow, what a great way to end this story, a completely incredible read, I love that while Sheila may not be as insanely powerful and huge as Debbie (yet, might there be a sequel?) She used what she could do really well to bring Debbie to her knees, her insanely skillful use of her tongue, mouth and fingers driving Debbie through the most powerful orgasms that she had ever had in her 50 years of life. It was too much for her, and Sheila soon looked to be in charge of the relationship because of the way that she was able to sexually overpower Debbie. Now it looked like she is using her influence to make Debbie a better person and a better boss, which I like, as it is hard to fully get behind someone who acted like Debbie did in the beginning, some would think she deserved to lose, and in a way she did, as it appears that she lost to Sheila, both mentally and physically and now has to do the exact opposite things that she didn't want to do in the beginning. I personally would love to see more of this storyline, as the possibility of Sheila getting bigger and stronger than Debbie to go along with her superior sexual skills is definitely something I would love to see! k+!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry to bring this back, I just want to ask the author if there is any possibility to do something of a Sheila back story? I would really love to know more about her! k+

[IBP]

God what a fantastic story. This confirms my suspicions that you are a female muscle writer of the highest caliber, outside the phenomenon that is Becky Finkelstein. Ms.Thorson is every bit the muscle-filled lust bomb that Becky is and she was crafted into a most impressive specimen over the course of these chapters. I myself don't necessarily get off on the "older woman" thing but a great writer can make anything sexy, especially if they write about muscle and strength the way you do. Cheers!

[grbaclig]

Big Girls on Campus
by grbaclig

Chapter 1 – Monday Morning, According to Cindy

   It was Monday, the week before classes started at State U, and it was move-in day.  I was standing on the front porch of the Phi Gamma Delta with my twin sisters Mindy and Windy.  We were pretty nervous, because Phi Gamma Delta was supposed be super strict about grades, and we just so-so students. 
   We never had to study too hard in high school   because we were tall and blonde with DDD cup boobs, flat tummies, and butts straight out of a rap video.  And there were three of us.  Unfortunately, the guys that lined up to help us with our homework couldn’t help us with the SATs, and we were borderline cases for the admissions department.  Fortunately our mom was State U’s richest graduate.  When she wasn’t overseas making huge business deals she was stroking State U checks for stadiums and uniforms.  We held hands for a second then looked at each other.  “It won’t be so bad,” I said.
   Mindy nodded.  “At least we’ll have each other.”
   “Yeah,” Windy agreed.  “And if things get bad we can just find some guys to buy us stuff and do our homework.”
   We all giggled.  “No,” I said.  “We have to be serious.  Manipulating guys into doing work for us is why we almost bombed the SATs.”
   “But manipulating guys is fun,” Windy chirped.
   “And easy,” Mindy added.  “And it’s not going to get any harder.  It’s not like there are going to be any girls hotter than us in here.”

   Mindy was totally wrong about that.  We were greeted in the lobby by a redhead in cutoffs and a crop top who had a face like a supermodel, tits like a porn star, an ass like an Olympic gymnast and the lean, toned body of a track star.  “Welcome to Phi Gamma Delta, new meat,” she said with a nasty smirk.  “My name is Tiffany and I’m the Rush Mistress.  I’m going to be running your life for the next three months.  So don’t piss me off.”
   Then an Asian girl walked into the lobby who made Tiffany look flabby and flat-chested.  She was wearing pink running shorts and a pink sports bra that bounced with every step as her bowling ball-sized breasts shook and jiggled.  She put her slim, but muscled arm on Tiffany’s shoulder and whispered something into the redhead’s ear.  Tiffany giggled.
   “Jesus, how can she stand up with those things?” Mindy whispered.
   I guess she didn’t whisper quietly enough because the Asian girl laughed and thrust her mammoth hooters out with pride, pale soft globes of cleavage forcing their way up from the tortured sports bra as six chiseled abdominal muscles sprang to life below them.  “Jealous?” she asked with a slight accent.
   Tiffany stomped her foot and scowled.  “Don’t you worry about Noriko’s tits,” she growled.  “I worry about Noriko’s tits.”
   And right on cue, Noriko planted a kiss on Tiffany’s cheek, and squeezed her tight, freckled butt.
   “Whoa,” Windy said as the curvy Asian bounced out of the lobby.
   Tiffany laughed.  “If that little peck makes you say ‘whoa’ you better stay the fuck out of my room,” she crowed.  “Now get your flabby little butts upstairs to room 209.  Your mommy made sure that you three got to share a room.”
   “Does my butt look flabby?” I asked as we walked upstairs.
   “Maybe compared to hers,” Mindy said, looking at the perfect curves of Tiffany’s muscular, freckled gluteus maximus as she walked after Noriko.

   Our room was kind of small, but it was clean and had a nice view of the back yard, which was huge, and had a full-sized swimming pool.  “The Phi Gamma Delta house seems a lot nicer than the other houses on sorority row,” I said, looking out over the perfectly manicured yard.
   “Everything’s nicer here,” said a voice from the doorway.  “That’s why it’s so hard to get on the rush list.”
   Standing in our doorway were two beautiful African-American girls in running shorts and white t-shirts that read ‘Madison High Swimming’.  One had light skin and her hair up in afro puffs, the other had dark skin and her hair in braids, and they both had toned muscular legs and broad shoulders.  We all introduced ourselves.  Tamika in the afro puffs and Shareese in the braids were on swimming scholarships, and were in the next room over.  “The kitchen is huge, and they have a chef and everything,” Tamika said.
   “And that gym is incredible,” Shareese added.  “It’s as big as the gym in our high school.”
   “There’s a gym here?” Windy asked.
   “The one in the basement?” Tamika said, puzzled.  “I know you’ve been there.”
   We all looked at each other and shrugged.
   “Hold on,” Shareese said.  “Didn’t you all have to pass the weight-lifting test?  And run on a treadmill?”
   We shook our heads.
   “I didn’t have to run on a treadmill,” Tamika said.  “I had to be able to bench 150 and pass some kind of reaction speed test.”
   “150… pounds?” Mindy asked.
   “We just had to make grades and stuff,” Windy said.
   “We all have to do that,” Shareese said.  “So why the hell did I have to run on a treadmill?”
   Then we heard slamming at the end of the hall.  Tiffany’s voice echoed down the hallway as she pounded on doors and walls.  “All you new bitches have five minutes to strip down to your underwear and get down to the gym.”
   “Wait, what?” I asked.
Tiffany stopped and glared.  “You heard what I said you spoiled little brats.  I want to see six identical titties lined up end-to-end downstairs in five minutes or I will break you in half like three stupid twigs.  Same with you two, except in your case it’s four tits and they’re probably not identical.”
   Shareese and Tamika shrugged and peeled their shorts and shirts off, exposing lacy panties that barely contained their bountiful breasts and amazingly round buttocks.  As they walked nonchalantly back to their rooms, Tiffany eyed them with an overtly lascivious gaze, and made a kissing motion with her mouth.  Then she turned back to us.  “Three dumb bitches, zero shirts, zero pants, two floors down, five minutes,” she spat, then she turned and continued stomping down the hall.
   “This place is weird,” Mindy whispered.