★Memorable Author: [The Sabre] Stories~collected

[batuffolino]

 

Stories in this collection:

The Meeting

Life With Trina

Muscle Sex




The Meeting
by The Sabre


Chapter 1

Tom waited, nervously drumming his fingers on the small coffee table in his hotel room. The television was on, but he wasn't paying any attention to it - he was both anticipating his coming appointment and fearing it a bit, as it was definitely his first time doing something like this. On the coffee table were tall glasses and a bottle of nice red wine that he had arranged for and set out hours earlier. The hours of sitting, waiting, wondering, had worn him out physically and mentally. He geared himself back up, reminding himself that this was a one time shot, and only he would know of his secret. Finally, after minutes that stretched to perceptible hours, he heard the long awaited knock at the door, and he jumped a bit in spite of himself. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the door and opened it, wondering what his night would be like from this moment forward.
He opened the door and had to look down to see his guest. Tom was six foot two, and the girl in front of him was a stretch to reach five foot two. Her thick, long red hair was tied up in girlish pigtails behind her hoop-pierced ears with long, flowing white lace bows, and the cascading flows of sunkist orange colored locks made quite a frame for her youthful-looking, astoundingly beautiful face. Two shining emerald eyes, with long black eyelashes, small yet full lips painted bubble-gum pink, and a cute button nose with a splash of freckles across the smooth bridge that spread, diminishing, to her finely sculptured cheeks.
In spite of her otherwise blatantly Irish characteristics, her skin was not pale, but a rich golden brown that had to have come from hours on the beach or in a tanning booth. She stood before him, a slight grin exposing perfect, pearl white teeth as he unashamedly looked her up and down. She wore a long, bulky black trenchcoat that ended inches above the floor and brushed the tops of her lace and pink frilled bobby socks, and her outfit was finished by a tiny pair of black saddle shoes, polished to a gleaming sheen. As nervous as he was, Tom could only stare, and eventually his guest spoke up, looking sideways somewhat nervously in the hallway.
"You gonna invite me in, or what? We don't want the Holiday Inn to charge me too, do we?" she grinned, lighting her cute face up and increasing her attractiveness exponentially. Her voice was soft and high pitched, and she spoke in a breathy tone that Tom knew would drive men wild if she so desired. Tom gulped, nodded, and opened the door wide behind him so she could slide by. She turned sideways and inched by him in the small available space made by the relatively narrow entrance. Tom glanced up and down the hallway as well, seeing noone, and shut the door quickly, pulling both the bolts.
"You must... be Krissy," Tom muttered, stumbling over his words as she set her purse down on the nightstand and surveyed the room.
"Yup, that's me," she quipped brightly, taking in Tom's hotel room and looking him up and down as well. "And you remembered the wine!" she cooed, picking up one of the glasses and taking a sip as she settled onto the couch. "You expecting someone else?" she giggled, and Tom flushed immediately.
"I just... figured you'd be a bit bigger," Tom began, embarrassed, wringing his hands as he stood next to the bolted door. "The website didn't have a picture, but I was looking for someone.... how do I say this.... big." Tom felt badly for putting the girl down, but there was a substantial amount of money riding on this, his one chance.
Krissy giggled again, settling her body into the sofa. She surveyed her client, six foot two, about one hundred and sixty pounds.
"Tom - don't you worry, I'm plenty big," she assured him, dropping a wink. "I came reccomended, didn't I?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.
"Of course you did, I just ... thought there might have been a mix up or something?" Tom continued to stutter, confused.
"Well, let me just get out of this big jacket and I can show you how big I really am," Krissy cooed, standing up slowly and begginning to shrug off her trench coat.
****
Tom had always had a 'thing' for athletic, developed women, ever since he could remember. It started with bikini girl magazines, catalogs from Ujena and assorted other swimwear companies. He loved the toned, tight look of the gorgeous models, and hid the magazines from his parents and friends only to be pulled out late at night to admire. Everything changed for him when he was at the grocery store one day with his mother, ten years old.
He went to the magazine rack to try to convince his mother to buy him a comicbook, but upon glancing at the various selections, his eyes were immediately drawn to a magazine he'd never seen there before. On the cover was a girl, clad in a miniscule string bikini, making a muscle like the superheroes in his comic books, except she was 100% for real. He knelt down in front of it, careful to make sure noone was looking at him, and read it.
The girl gracing the cover was Amy Fahdli, he read, and the magazine was named Women's Physique World. He looked in awe and fascination at her arms, tight and sculpted, the flexed one sporting a lemon sized bicep, clearly defined against her tanned smooth skin. Looking again, he flexed his own puny arm in comparison, and realzied with a feeling of delight that this woman, who did something called the Ms. Fitness, was much stronger than he. He lifted the magazine a bit out of the rack to get a better look, and his mouth came open.
In the lower corner of the front page, obscured by the magazine rack until now, was a hugely developed, strong woman in the same sized bikini, bright yellow, her muscles bulging insanely, her ropy, mountainous arms curled in in front of her to expose two cannonball biceps. Her face was beautiful, and she smiled at him from the magazine, and in Tom's young mind she was flexing her giant muscles for him and him alone. Her chest was flat, excepting the two globes of rocky muscle in the bikini, and her stomach was staggering - a wall of ridged muscles graced her thick midsection just like Superman's. After seeing this for the first time, he was hooked - his fetish for female bodybuilders was firmly entrenched in his mind by the sight of the woman, proudly pumping her body to maximum size.
The next time he went to the market he went by himself, and stole a copy of he magazine. He felt badly, but didn't want to go through the hassle of explaining himself to a counter girl. He had never seen women like that, big, massive, muscular, and it turned him on almost to the point of obsession. He didn't even look at it as he shoved it in his pants, preferring to wait for he relative safety of a locked bedroom. The cover girl this time was not a fitness model, but a massively built female bodybuilder named Bev Francis. Her cover shot was amazing and a bit scary, her arms held high above her head in a victorius double bicep pose. Her bikini ooked like i had been painted on, it was stretched across her rocky, bloated physiqe like a second skin. Tom was immediately aroused, but looked through the remainder of his prize. Every page was filled with pictures of bodybuilders and weightlifters, some bigger and more developed than others, but all flexing their hard fought for physiques to the limit, straining bikinis with the size of the titantic thighs, full, rippling pecs, and blown out, bulging arms and backs. Tom appreciated all of them, but kept getting drawn back to Bev, the cover girl, astounded by the thick, steel muscles, the veins and cuts all over her tremendous physique that put every other body in the muscle-mag, and most of the bigger men involved in the sport as well, to shame. Tom couldn't get enough of looking at her bloated, razor sharp physique, and by now he was hard as a rock, harder than he'd ever been. He masturbated furiously and finished quickly, thinking longingly about what it would be like to simply touch the muscles of a woman like those bodybuilderettes.
As the years passed, Tom's obsession with musclewomen grew. He had to get a file cabinet to house all of the muscle magazines he had collected, and had even managed to tape a few of the seldom aired bodybuilding shows and contests. He knew by now that society as a whole looked at these women as freaks - watching television one night with his family, his father flipped to coverage of the Ms. Olympia contest. Tom averted his eyes quickly, not before seeing the final posedown lineup of oil slicked, rock hard female bodybuilders in the tiniest of bikinis making their pumped bodies bulge and swell with unnatural muscles.
Tom's dad grunted in disgust, and his Mom blurted out, "That is so disgusting - why would women want to do that to themselves?" Tom's dad replied, "Fucking men with breasts, thats all they are. And they had to use drugs to get that way." Tom quickly agreed with both almost too quickly, keeping his true feelings inside. To him, it didn't matter if they used steroids or not - he just knew that the sight of a ripped to shreds, vascular, musclebound woman, clad in a bikini and oiled up, was ecstasy to him. The bigger, the better, the more freakish and huge, those were the girls and women he wantd to see.
Tom managed to keep his fetish under wraps for years because of his fear of being outed and ridiculed. He was not gay, but for some reason muscles, and even better, bulging, sweat slicked, huge, veiny muscles on a female, turned him on like nothing else. He had had many girlfriends, all well-built and pretty by normal standards, and he had no problem being with them or having sex with them. His fantasy, however, and unfortunately unfulfilled, was to at least have a session with a musclegirl or bodybuilder. He had spent plenty on live webcams, video clip sites, and had read and even tried writing his share of femuscle stories, and he masturbated to them all easily. But before he would be married he would give himself the chance to feel a real bodybuilder's muscles, to hold and carress hot, bulging, veiny liquid steel on a gigantic musclebound female.
****
Tom watched as Krissy struggled with her large coat - the buttons were straining against their latches due to her width. Tom was surpried he hadn't noticed before, but this young girl was really wide, and he had just assumed it was extra clothing as it was getting into winter and was unseasonably chilly outside. Krissy got her jacket buttons undone finally, and shrugged off the coat, revealing parts of her physique to Tom. Tom gagged at the sight, his eyes bulging in incredulous disbelief. Krissy had not been selling herself short one bit.
"You're .... that's .... impossible!" Tom gasped, his voice soft and brimming with fear, disbelief, and confusion. Tom had seen thickness, muscle density, striations and cuts, and extreme vascularity - unachievable feats for most men in the sport he had witnessed with his own eyes, layers upon layers and slabs of unnatural, undoubtedly steroid-fed muscles on women. Even these self-enhancing, deep-voiced physique stars did not begin to come close to the levels of muscularity and sheer size packed onto this girl's frame.
Collette Guimond was, in Tom's mind, one of the most developed, densely muscular women ever to pick up a barbell. He was also convinced that she had had chemical help along the way - her hammers of biceps were the size of her head, and crawled with veins - even her stomach looked unnatural, a bloated drumhead of thick armor plating. His old idol Bev Francis and the obviously gigantic Collette both paled in comparison to Krissy's bulbous, bubbling and swollen physique. Krissy was wider, thicker, and her muscles bulged inches outward immediately and ominously from her tiny wrists, elbows and knees like they had been inflated to maximum pressure and then some. Her face looked ridiculous atop the gigantic mound of beef that somehow had become her body.
Tom had seen many 'enhancements' to images on the web in his constant lustful search for more female muscle, drawings of obscenely, grotesquely muscled girls, as well as more photoshopped pics of already extremely developed musclegirls blown up to ridiculous proportion. He just couldn't believe that he had the real deal standing in front of him, the different pieces of her Catholic schoolgirl outfit straining, stretched to their mechanical limit to cover her immense mass without being disintegrated or torn to shreds.
"How..." Tom continued to fumble his words. "How did... women can't get that big!" he finally blurted out, eyes wide still and riveted to Krissy's newly revealed body. What Tom had figured to be a scarf underneath her coat collar turned out to be the girl's neck and traps. Her neck was thick, corded, wider than her head, and her trap muscles swelled to right underneath her earlobes so that her small hoop earrings actually rested on the unbelievably massive wedges. Her pigtails cascaded down, past the mounds of her trapezius, and laid on the open collar of her starched white shirt. The top three buttons were undone on the nearly see-through white dress shirt by necessity of the circumfrence of her barrel neck, and closed to a V right at the start of her both melon-shaped and sized pectoral muscles. The short sleeves ended abruptly a quarter of the way down her football sized deltoids, her bronzed skin stretching to accomodate the clearly visible heads of each muscle group that made up her tremendous, inflated shoulders. The dress shirt also ended up short on her torso, just covering the bottom of what might be her breasts or yet another hyper developed muscle group, and her stomach was nauseatingly muscular - unreal. Tom was aghast to see that standing straight up and not flexing, Krissy's wide stomach was a true 8 pack of cubed muscles, each meat bubble thicker than two inches, protruding against the smooth muscled wall of what would be a normal girl's abdomen.
Krissy grinned at the shocked look and agape jaw that always accompanied her clients' first real look at her blatant, excruciatingly cut and veiny super-physique. She did a twirl, tree-trunk thighs ballooning and swelling under her short plaid skirt, making it lift by crucial inches, showing the shelflike swell of her bulbous glute muscles, and turned sideways to Tom, looking admiringly down at her massively developed lower body and diamond cut, twenty three inch calves.
****

[batuffolino]

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[batuffolino]

Chapter 2 - Krissy's Massive Muscles
Krissy sipped at her wine and pulled a stack of photos from the pocket of her discarded trench coat with a quick movement, holding them close to her muscle-stuffed chest and looking at Tom coyly.  Seeing he was completely enraptured with simply the view of her monstrously developed physique, and knowing there was so much more to see and do, she decided to start her story.  
She gulped her wine voraciously, dropping a wink to her slack-jawed admirer, and with the slightest, efortless flex made her mostly unrevealed, bulbous chest bob once, slowly and seductively, mounds of thick meat swelling beneath the pads of breast that struggled to maintain a sense of femininity in the young Irish bodybuilderette.  
Her hyper-muscular body, as always, performed to the height of its unnatural development, her muscle-tits hardening as they flowed upwards, thick plates of beef forming a rugged landscape right under her chin, breasts squeezed through the questionable confines of her cotton dress shirt.
"Tom, you ARE right, most girls will never get as big as me," she began, setting the wine glass down daintily and nodding for a refill as her small hands encircled her thick barrel neck.  Tom poured the wine clumsily, mouth still open, spilling onto the coffee table as he shook, observing intently, pants uncomfortably tight around his tented manhood, as Krissy ran both hands down the Himalayan terrain of her bulging, thick traps, to the insertions of her multi-headed, blown out shoulders.  It looked as if bowling balls had forecefully  replaced the traditional supermodel's smooth line of swan-like neck to slender arm that drove fashion photographers wild.  The dichotomy of Krissy's supermodel looks and almost alien, disgustingly and tremendously overdeveloped body had Tom's head spinning.
"I was in a horrible car accident when I was twelve years old." Krissy began, looking directly into Tom's wide eyes as she continued.  Thrown from the vehicle, she had broken nearly every bone in her body, the effects of hitting the ground at over seventy miles per hour twisting her body terribly, rending muscle from bones and snapping tendons like old rubber bands.  She was in traction for weeks, and the surgeon knew that an extensive, costly and dangerous surgery would have to be performed in order to just reattach all the things that weren't currently.  
The doctors all gave prognosis and prediction, and the results were not good.  Most graded Krissy's ability to merely walk at a mere 10-15% chance, even with the technology available and the leaps and bounds in medication and treatment.  Krissy's accident had just been that brutal to her young body.
Krissy showed Tom the first picture in the stack, making extra sure to keep the others hidden until she saw fit.  In the photograph Tom saw a little girl, in a half body cast, smiling still through the obvious pain - in the picture Krissy was surrounded by IV trees, tubes entering and exiting the body cast at regular intervals, pumping her young body full of the painkillers she so desperately needed to simply remain conscious.
"So, you see," Krissy continued, her profile to Tom showcasing her ridiculously thick, bloated barreled torso, shirt stretched to Olympian proportions across the mountainous swells of Krissy's shredded, lumped cubes of quivering pecs, her drumhead marbled stomach swelling ominously underneath the strained knot holding her explosive mass with dubious capability.  
"Daddy took care of everything for me.  I was shipped out to Fort Sam Houston," Krissy continued in a soft, husky voice that was driving Tom insane, and cocked her massive arm for a reality-shaking flex.  Looking deep into Tom's awe-stricken eyes with her thick lashed emerald greens, with the slightest of twitches she made her thick, golden arm erupt in a volcanic surge of veiny, steel-hard and swelling girl muscle.  
Tom's eyes nearly left his skull as Krissy's arm bulged, muscles writhing just underneath nearly translucent, tissue-paper thin skin.  Thick cables of vascularity spread across the bulges of her thick, head-separated biceps muscles, accentuating the top of her magnificent, monstrously developed arms with an inch thick, pulsing vein.
Krissy smiled, her pearly whites brightening the room for Tom, and looked down lovingly at the trembling, twenty-two inch boulder sitting pretty and proudly, feathered with striation and crawling with thick worm-like veins, that exploded from the tight sleeve of her sheer white top like it had been trying to escape.  Tom actually gagged a bit at the up-close sight of such unreal bulging power, and Krissy again giggled a bit.
"Touch it Tom, you know you want to," she cooed, and Tom's hand immediately met her hot steel.  Tom rubbed the top peak of her gigantic biceps head, his fingertips brushing the thick vein atop slightly - Tom could feel the blood pump through her skin to feed the tremendous mountain of muscle.  It was solid as a rock, bulging strangely, and warm under his touch.
"I was enrolled in a top secret military project through a friend of Daddy's," Krissy continued, flipping over another photo from the stack.  In it was a picture of her in a wheelchair, in front of a cookie-cutter square government building with a sign reading 'Rehabilitation'.  
"There was experimentation being done for helping soldiers that had been in tank explosions," Krissy continued, pulling her muscle-engorged arm away from Tom's wanting grasp.  Looking down at the diminutive yet at the same time massive young Krissy, thinking of her iron bulge of bicep meat in his hands, Tom became instantly rock hard, harder than he'd ever felt before.
Krissy looked down to her swollen, waffled stomach as she continued with her story.  "Regular injections of a new, experimental medicine had increased muscular regeneration and growth times by a factor of ten in lab rats," she said matter of factly, running her finders into the two inch deep grooves that delineated and separated her horrifyingly cut, blown out abdomen.  "And I was to be the first human test trial subject - Daddy knew that it was my only chance at walking, moving, and living like a normal human being again."
Krissy's delicate hands moved to her relatively tiny hips, and flexed her gigantic back muscles.  Tom gasped a bit as her back expanded like a cobra's hood, thick sinewy arms pushed to a 45 degree angle to accomodate her bulging lats.  "So I was admitted, given a room in the center of the labs, and injected daily.  My muscles responded well, and soon I was walking around again.  That's when I started lifting weights on their program, to strengthen my healing body,"  Krissy's chest rose by inches with her flex, muscle-breasts squeezed together as her rippling arms shifted forward with her titantic lat flexion.
Krissy continued to work out as they told her, when they told her, over the loudspeakers in her room.  She had begun to hate the cell, thinking of it as the prison it truly was despite the girlish accoutrements and getting anything and everything she asked for.  The room was done up in beautiful pink furnishings, with plenty of her favorite stuffed animals to join her in the huge four post bed that had been moved in when she had first arrived.
Krissy flipped another photo over on the coffee table, and she was lifting weights in the lab room in a one piece unitard.  The fourteen year old girl in the photo had the body of a fitness chapion, all cut and shapely muscle.  Her six pack protruded sharply even in the picture as she was laying flat, about to bench press what looked like a considerable stack of weight.
"They used to watch me, you know," Krissy whispered as she undid the first straining button on her skin tight blouse.  The button snapped open upon release by pink-lacquered, dainty fingers which then traced the jagged trail of her pectoral insertions, breastbone swelling by inches to form striated fingers of muscle, converging to form a rippling meat-cleavage, driving Tom insane as she slowly continued. Button number two and three revealed the top of a tiny, conceivably blood-red lace bra.  
"At first I found it creeepy, scientists and labworkers standing and watching me work out," Krissy continued in her feathery whisper.  "But I got used to it over the years, and actually started to like it when they watched."  A smile smile began to curl the corners of her mouth.
Another button gone and Tom reveled in her fully exposed, barrel-thick and completely musclebound chest.  The miniscule cups were nearly the size of the tiny red string that bound the bikini-bra to her young, explosively rumbling physique, covering just her visible nipples and little else.  The last stands of her femininity were clearly visible through the lace, hard thimbles of girlishness surrounded by the mountainous, vein splattered landscape of Krissy's muscle-packed, swollen chest.  There was no fat to speak of, the cups of the oversized bikini top flat against the ever shifting plates and mounds of power underneath.
"By this time I was pretty big, you know," Krissy spoke nonchalantly as she began to pull her shirt off, a block-cut, vein-covered eight-pack of bulging abdominal muscles rippling and reforming with the slightest movement of her wide upper body.  "The drugs worked amazingly fast, faster than even the scientists thought they could! By the time I was sixteen I was this big already!"  
Tom gulped uncontrollably, the thought of her being this incredibly massive and developed as a mere freshman in high school making his manhood jump convulsively as Krissy tried to peel the shirt from her pumpkin-shaped upper arms - the shirt had stuck right past her blown-out, swollen trap muscles on the mounds of shredded deltoids.  Tom watched Krissy grimace in mild annoyance when the shirt refused to slide off the boulderlike swells capping her broad upperback like two speed bumps.
Krissy in a lightning-fast movement performed a crab flex that blew her pecs up like baloons.  The cups of her micro-bikini popped audibly and grew stretched thin across the rigid pectoral eruptions of volcanic muscle underneath.  The shirt didn't have a snowball's chance in hell - it not only ripped but exploded from Krissy's thick, bloated upper torso , tatters of white fabric floating softly to the ground in front of her vascular, pumped and bulging musculature.
Krissy handed Tom another photo, and he was aghast.  This was a picture of Krissy, at sixteen tender years, in a pair of panties and a white bra that were pasted to her thick, armor plated physique.  She was striking a double biceps pose, and her arms looked to be easily twnety inches around, her skin filled to the bursting point with huge, engorged muscles.
"Oh my God," Tom said in a weak voice, looking from the picture to the real thing, in full, muscle bound glory, inches from him.

[Jeremy Lightning]

This is actually a very old story that had about 10 parts.  The Sabre was the original author of it.

[Absfan01]

Chapter 3 - The Show Part 1

"And so it went," she continued nonchalantly, as if the photographic proof she had just laid on the table of her freakishly, frighteningly massive muscular development at a young age where she couldn't even drive a car was a matter of course.  "But the drugs didn't stop reacting with my body like the scientists had thought they would, as you can plainly see!" she finished with another bright smile curling her full, pink lips to frame perfectly white, straight teeth. 
"The stronger my broken body became, the better a host it was to these super-drugs and advanced steroids, and the more...." Krissy turned a quarter so that she was face on to Tom.  She brought her ropy, thick arms down as if hugging a barrell, and inflated her upper body with muscle, her bra cups stretching from triangles to weird shifting polygons as her pecs swelled ominously. 
A slight frown of annoyance swept her face as she noticed Tom's attention was still wholly absorbed in the picture of her, packed forcibly into the set of newly ill-fitting lingerie, her young body overflowing with powerful, packed on muscles.
Determined, Krissy straightened out one mammoth arm inches from Tom, the plunk of her hand pushing the table to get the maximum flex available finally drawing his eyes up from the teenaged She-Hulk in the photo resting on the edge of wood.  He blushed, feeling a little guilty at the state of his openly noticeable, raging erection.  The combined stimulation of Krissy's admittedly incredibly arousing picture in front of him and her matchingly, horrendously thick, gargantuan physique, forced into the tiniest of lace bras and a mini-skirt that left little to the imagination, hem reaching only far enough to cover the very top of her curved, muscle ridged ass.
The behemoth young musclegirl looked down, satisfied in a weird way with the size and rock-hardness of  Tom's manhood, knowing that it was her burstingly muscular body that had produced this pronounced reaction.  Granted, she had just met this man, but the effect her tremendous, musclebound young body had on men (and some women as well) was always exhilirating, ego-enhancing, and sexually stimulating to a gigantic degree.
"And they're even bigger now, Tom," she said coyly, a knowing smirk on her gorgeous face at the raqpt, singularly focused attention of her dumbfounded client, and performed the same pose as the photo in his hands just inches from him, her tiny blood-red bra almost lost in the plateaus, crevasses, and mountainous swells of her solid, dangerously bulging upper body. 
"I would begin doing a show for my 'worshippers',"  Krissy giggled, part in retrospect and part by the adoring, stunned look on Tom's face from the result of her skin and bra-stretching double biceps.  "It's funny how much can change when people are observing you all the time, watching you, revelling in you," she continued, the grin a full blown, beautiful smile as she recollected on her younger years. 
Her young face, beautiful in her reminiscience, belied the vein-riddled, bullishly meat-packed upper body mere inches from her ruby lips and small, delicate looking chin.  She realized her lack of attention to her client, and looked straight into his wide open eyes.
"Wanna see me get pumped up, Tom?" Krissy said in a teasing, schoolgirl voice and tone, "I can get oh... so much bigger," she ended in a tantalizing whisper, and Tom's every wish was for it to be true - she was already bigger than any bodybuilders he had ever seen or even heard of, and he was about to get a private posing session with quite possibly the most muscular human being on earth, the title of most muscular woman long ago decided. 
Krissy quickly dropped down, tree-trunk thighs expanding dangerously.  Tom was dleighted to notice her bowling ball glutes peeking out from the ridiculously short plaid skirt, as Krissy's hand was touching her delicate looking ankle, and the musclegirl then ran her hand seductively up her blocky calves, to her tiny knees, to the outrageous swell of her thick granite quadricep muscles.  Her legs were massive, every inch packed with striated muscle,  and like the rest of her amazing body, covered in spiderwebs of spreading veins.
"And I think you can, too," in a silk whisper, as she dropped a seductive wink to his bulging crotch, and with an appreciative glance, put her hands on the waistband of her tiny skirt.  "But I need to get this silly thing off so that I can show off my huge,"  Krissy began to tense her thick legs, causing the bulging quads to tense up, swelling upwards, pulling up from her slender kneecaps, "muscular legs for you, Tom.  Would you like that?" she cooed, as the belt was undone quickly, professionally, with tiny tanned hands.  She turned her impressive bulk so that her tight, obscenely muscled ass was pointed right at him. 
Tom watched, eyes wide and mouth open, as the hem of her mini skirt began to drop, revealing two bulging globes of perfect, etched and tanned buttcheeks, split by the tiny lace red string of her miniscule thong.  Each cheek was full, striated, and thick with muscle.  Krissy bent over perfectly, like doing a deadlift, and Tom was treated to the sight of her corded legs biceps, fully stretched and defined, leading to the shelf of her perfect, muscular glutes as her skirt hit the floor.  The tiny thong was trapped between twin boulders of hard meat, and Tom's hard-on raged, as Krissy had predicted, growing still a bit more.  Krissy had now retrieved the tiny schoolgirl skirt from the floor, straightened up (causing a symphony of rippling musculature as she stood straight), and was again facing Tom, whose hands were clenching and unclenching in his intense need to reach out and touch this young female bodybuilding phenomenon.
The admittedly already tiny set of lingerie she now had on looked like it had been painted on as an afterthought in comparison to her mindlowing Olympian physique.  Giant muscle was of display everywhere on her short, sickeningly wide and loaded frame.
"I used to work out in getups like this," Krissy said teasingly, rotating her hips so he was treated to her bubbling twelve pack abs bursting forth, rumbling and reforming around each indivdual ab cube, rolling over and obcuring the struggling panties - the tiny triangle covering her womanhood pulled tight like a sail and was even smaller looking due to the blood-engorged muscles of her crotch itself. 
"I'd work out hard, and long, until I was screaming, covered in sweat," Krissy whispered, "all pumped up and huge, the drugs amplifying me."  The scientists on duty would watch these muscle orgies, with a teenaged Krissy in the tiniest, body hugging bras and panties, pumping impossible weight loads and engorging her body with as much thick, hard muscle as she could.  Her lower abs, painfully cut and veiny, continued straight into the red lace see-throughs, a starburst of thicker, pumping veins marking the washboarded descent into her frilled micro bottoms.
"I've seen plenty of these on those scientists as they stared at me," her tiny hand coming excruciatingly close to brushing his throbbing manhood.  Tom thought that if this muscular goddess had actually touched it, it would've been all over.  Her muscles were  like a series of sausages stuffed to the point of rupture - the girl was filled, consumed by and bloated with the most freakish muscle mass that Tom could imagine.  And it was all here, inches from his hands and face, huge, ripped, veiny and warm.
She raised her hand to Tom's face, and wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth with a quick laugh.  The amusement caused her already insanely protruding, carved and covered with an interstate map's worth of criss-crossing, disturbingly evident veins and arteries bulge of abdominal wall to shrink both inwards and outwards at the same time, muscles tightening and hardening as they still yet expanded in size. Krissy's midsection was now almost twice as thick as her titantic thighs, and her stomach muscles had been pumped to the point where they expanded unbelievably and unnaturally beyond the prodigious shelf of her blocky pecs.  These in fact rested, inches of thick stone muscles themselves, upon the first freakish bubbles of her abdominal column. 
Her clients almost always reacted this way, going almost comatose in disbelief for any length of time from a few seconds to a few minutes, depending on their exposure to female muscles in general. 
Krissy found that the die hards, the true muscle-freak fetishists, could better absorb the mind-blowing levels of development she had been able to achieve through years of excruciating, scream-inducing training, and of course the help of Uncle Sam's finest scientists, nutritionists, and steroid therapists. 
Tom was this kind of freak, she decided as he refocused on the rumbling ocean of protruding female stomach muscles, eyes widening yet again at the young girl's insane build and freakshow development.  His view downwards to Krissy's cute, short pigtails was overflowing with lens-filling, bulging, veiny and striated, unreal girl muscle.

******

Chapter 4 - The Show Part 2

"So tell me, Tom," Krissy said as she showcased her formidable, powerpacked, muscle-stuffed body to him, small hands highlighting different parts of her tremendous physique like a Price is Right model. 

"What do you like about female bodybuilders?" she asked as she flexed one enormous quadriceps.  Tom was treated to the view of her unflexed, barrel-thick thigh visibly exploding with muscles, pumping veins popping to the surface with the ferocious transformation of new-found pounds of extra mass.  Her leg development was revoltingly big, pulsing with cords of hard, separated lumps of beef like multiple hams had been surgically inserted under her tight brown skin. 

"Is it quads like this, Tom?  Big, hard.... OOOoooohhh," the young muscle-queen moaned loudly as she flexed her rigid, bloated thigh again, willing more fantastic, mind-blowing size into her watermelon-sized, razor-defined quads. 
" ... muscley thighs?  Maybe diamond hard, veiny calves?"  Krissy continued, a knowing grin on her face, spiking the same heel as her bulging, meat-packed thigh and pointing her toe. The slight movement caused her already twenty-three inch calf to swell like a balloon, resettling into twin diamonds of rock-hard upside down heart shaped meat, cut to shreds, with the most extreme vascularity Tom had seen yet - and Krissy was a textbook definition of vascularity - her entire mindblowing musculature was fed by hundreds upon hundreds and veins and arteries, all blatantly apparent and visible.

"Um...." Tom began, stuttering a bit and somewhat lost for words with this young colossus of Athenian power and sexuality standing mere inches from him, showcasing her unbelievable, explosively built physique for him and him alone, the miniscule lingerie pasted on her throbbing torso at complete odds with her overtly anti-feminine build. 

If there could be the antithesis of a feminine body, this was it - hourglass shape ruined by thick cables of muscle, corded atop one another, from her ribcage to her hips, any swan-like shape of her neck obliterated by rippling mounds of unnerving neck muscles.  Part of Tom's punch-drunk mind was still trying to disbelieve what he was seeing - Krissy, with just some light posing of her tremendous, bulging muscles, had gotten pumped up to the point of obscenity - the small flexes turned into waves of harder, repetitiously bigger, pulsing bulges filling every inch of her frame.  She was colossal, with every visible inch of taut, tanned skin completely rippling with unnatural vascularity to accompany the similarly frightening size of her almost cartoonish body. 

"Spit it out, big boy," Krissy laughed as Tom's hungry eyes went from her delicate ankle, up the ridiculous swells and bulges of her pumped, fully flexed legs, lingering for a moment on stretched, distended panties that clearly showed her sex.  The strain of her cobblestone, lower abdominals in combination with her powerful, thick glutes had formed the panties like a second skin over her shaved womanhood, leaving nothing to the imagination.  From there her bloated, taut eight-pack stomach led into two pumpkin sized mounds of striated, cubical pectoral muscles, any remains of feminine looking breasts lost in the sheer massive volume of her thick and insanely ripped chest muscles themselves. 

Her impressive globes of power-packed she-beef were capped off by the miniscule red lace bikini-bra, the strings tying the small triangles together across her moutainous, lumped muscle-tits looking ready to explode, cutting deeply into the abundant bulges and swells of meat that made up her flaring, cobra-hood lats.  Tom reached her face, sitting prettily atop a thick triangle of bunched tendon and thick, ridiculously big trap muscles - they framed her beautiful face, reaching the insertion of her fine jawline, her golden hoop earrings laying sideways on their freakish mass.  Seeing her smiling, gorgeous face relaxed him despite its strange existence atop this monstrous, hugely develooped physique, and he could answer.

"I've just always gotten 'excited' when I see female muscle," Tom said slowly, as Krissy smiled, nodded, and pumped a magnificent bicep into a titanium boulder, her arm expanding ominously as both triceps and biceps swelled with blood, cables of vascularity feeding her hot, engorged muscles.  She looked at him in askance, emerald green eyes wide and innocent, bringing the index finger of her other arm to her pink lips daintily, causing that arm to rumble and expand as well.  Krissy looked again down to the throbbing, vascular softball of meat on her arm, and flexed it harder for her worshipper - Tom heard creaking leather as her skin accomodated the additional, unnatural mass, and then a small grunt from Krissy as the flex was completed, her arm an insane, bulging twenty-four inches in circumfrence, thick muscles wrestling one another for room on her upper arm.

"The biggest girls turned me on the most,"  he confessed, thinking again of Bev Francis, his introduction to hardcore female muscle, but try as he might he could not conjure up the picture of the muscle-woman that started him on his rare-trodden path of fetishes. 

His mind kept replaying highlights of Krissy's performance so far, from shirt-destroying, chest-inflating most muscular poses to the disgustingly giant thigh eruption of moments earlier, to the picture of a freshman girl with the physique of a steroid-fueled, eight time Mr. Olympia.  Krissy was the epitome of Tom's fantasy, a female bodybuilder who had shattered the standards for muscularity of even that social extreme, her unnatural, drug-reinforced mass, striation, and vascularity replacing in Tom's mind his first standard of fe-muscle.

"Do you think I'm a big girl now, Tom?"  Krissy asked seductively, her tiny hand cupping one pec, tracing the bullet of nipple accentuated by a tight lace covering, then continuing downwards, cupping each bulge of abdominal muscle as she traced her morphing twelve pack down to her girlish, out of place panties.  She rolled her abs slowly, a coy smile on her face as even she could not resist admiring their cobblestone perfection as each brick of abdominal development took its moment of prominance on her swollen, beach-ball sized columned ladder of midsection.

"I know you didn't before, but do you think I've packed enough muscle on dis widdle body?"  the young muscle phenomenon giggled, performing a slow, deliberate latspread pose for him.  Her cobra-hood of back muscles expanded, doubling her girth, pushing her ballooned, pulsating pectorals together with the genetics-defying, freakish thickness of her wings of hard, rippling meat.  Her sheer width, made Tom take an involuntary step backwards, where his knees collided with couch and he buckled, falling into the cushion as Krissy stepped in between his knees, her massive mountains of granite quads touching his kneecaps with warm liquid steel.

******

Chapter 5 - Worship

Krissy's proximity, her short but unbelievably wide frame, thickened and augmented with pumped slabs of steeled muscles,  had Tom harder than he had ever been before. 

Tom had always had a digital multitude of offerings for his femuscle self-pleasuring sessions - Wordpad chronicles of pill-popping, mega-muscular and whorish high school cheerleaders, outrageously exaggerated manga-art of impossibly muscled schoolgirls, the gigabytes upon gigabytes of media files of hard, bulging, oiled and contest-ready female bodybuilding champion monstrosities - years and years of searching, collecting, hoarding anything that had to do with women and big, bulging muscles. 

He had even had to search underground eventually to sate his appetite for female muscle by going through strange Middle-European websites to obtain black market tapes.  Tom had found that the stringent controls on heavy growth enhancers and high grade steroids did not exist quite as stringently in what used to be the USSR, and as a result, the women in these collections were the most massive he had seen, pumped full of 'performance' chemicals, bodies bloated with gigantic muscle under young, supermodel faces.  He was surprised and delighted that all of his years' carefully collected stimulus paled in comparison to the young, beautiful muscle-goddess just inches from his painfully hard, ram-rod straight manhood.  Her paradigm-shattering physique combined with her gorgeous looks made her iconic in the world of female bodybuilders.

"I think your little friend there thinks I'm pretty big," Krissy purred, slowly widening her tree-trunk thighs, forcing Tom's legs outwards, bringing his swollen manhood to prominence.  His eyes were inches from bubbling, wrought-iron abdominal muscles as the teen muscle-queen stepped closer in still, her big quad muscles close and high on his inner thigh.  Krissy leaned over to her previously discarded trench coat, retrieving a small bottle of baby oil to Tom's craving delight.

"Do you think he'd like to see me all oiled up, Tom?"  she teased, while giggling and running the bottle down the mountains and valleys of her stomach, a slight flex turning her stomach into a perverted, shredded cobblestoned waffle of muscularity.  "My muscles look so much bigger, ... and harder," she breathed sexily as the bottle now ran along the edge of her tiny, frilled panties.  "when they're covered with baby oil."

"Is.... is that going to be enough?"  Tom sort of squeaked, submissive in acquiescence to Krissy's short but massively thick and widely bulging, awesomely veiny body.

"Aw, aren't you the sweetest thing,"  Krissy whispered slowly, leaning towards him so that her face was right next to his.  Tom's eyes darted frantically from her close, delicate cheekbone and jawbone, to her striated, melon-sized pec cleavage, the tiny, taxed cups of her bra at the very edge of his field of view.  The majority of what he could see were thick, meat-stuffed pectoral muscles, bulging striations crossing one another and making her skin look like the etching of a homemade pie.  Occasional glances to her young, gorgeous face, dark-mascara-ed clover green eyes and sweet pink lips, made the outrageous, ripped to shreds body inches under that much more intoxicating and confusing.

"Why don't you try, Tom," she whispered directly into his ear, and dropped the bottle of oil directly into his lap.  It bounced awkwardly off his stone crotch, which didn't move an inch.  "Why don't you oil my thick," Krissy brought both hands together in front of her vein-mapped, muscle-lumped stomach and flexed her already enormous pectorals, "hard muscles," the teenaged monstrosity continued, pecs bursting with wriggling meat, "... and I can finish my story while you worship this temple."  Krissy straightened back up smartly and looked down at his lap expectantly.  Tom fumbled for the bottle clumsily, still a little embarrassed by his blatant erection, and popped the cap, spraying some of the precious liquid in his rush to fill his hands with Krissy's bloated, power-packed physique.

"Careful, Tom," Krissy teased, and dropped to both knees between his legs with a thump.  She began to perform an ever-expanding double biceps pose repeatedly in front of her wide eyed client, inviting his oiled touch with both her eyes and the massive, waiting muscles she was pumping to a ridiculous size. 

"That oil belongs on these babies."  She held her tremendous flex this time, but with a slight grunt and a bit of effort, she was able to make the melons of bicep muscle expand unnaturally beyond the firmest of her flexes, a quirky unnatural bulge atop the major biceps heads a testement to brutal, body-punishing training and plenty of help from the super-steroids she had been injected with.  Her intoxicatingly close, erupting volcano of a body was filled to the bursting point with rock hard, disgustingly cut muscle.

Tom filled his hands with the warm oil as quickly as he could, and immediately went for Krissy's throbbing, swelling biceps mounds.  His slicked hands roamed the bumpy, granite landscape frantically as Krissy continued to pump her enormous, beef injected bowling ball biceps for his and her own pleasure.  With each giant flex, Tom felt more moving, pumping veins under her soft, taut, tanned skin.  The layer of oil he was rubbing lovingly into her skin softened it even further, strengthening the strange feeling of silky skin stretched like rubber over monstrous, solid mountains of power.

"So I finished high school in that lab, but my degree should have been in P.E.,"  Krissy giggled.  "By this point I was so massively developed, so hugely muscular," she continued while simultaneously performing a hammer curl, her forearms cording up and rippling with veinwork as she brought her fisted, diminutive hands down to complete the mindblowing pose.

"There was really no hiding it - they had bought me baggy clothes, sweatpants and the like, Daddy even had some custom tailored for me on the Army's expense, but nothing could hide the fact that I was huge, massively muscular, and obviously experimented on."

"You see, Daddy wasn't overly happy with the fact that his daughter had been turned into a hardcore, superhero female bodybuilder, but being an Army man, realized that the transfiormation I had undegone was both amazing and a great leap in the help available to his disabled soldiers.  I had been the first human test, and as you can see,"  Krissy said with a coy smile as Tom continued to fill his wanting hands with testosterone fueled, enhanced girl-meat, his mouth open in frank ecstasy as he kneaded her iron swells and freakish bulges to no avail. 

"I was abnormally succesful," she finished with a winning smile, making her thick biceps quiver and wriggle under Tom's hands, causing him to gasp a bit as he felt their quirky movement under the light layer of oil between his worshipful hands and Krissy's cannons of muscle.

Her granite mounds were now covered with a slick of baby oil, erotically accentuating the odd angles and horrific, explosive bulges of her mass.  She did a slight turn in between his thighs, forcing  Tom's sticklike legs out a bit further still to accomodate her amazing width, and presented her striated, pumpkin sized deltoids for his worship as she continued.

[batuffolino]

6

Tom rubbed oil lovingly and frantically into Krissy's wide, melon-sized deltoids, his fingertips exploring every steel inch, every muscular swell and crevasse, every hard tendon and strip of bulging meat that made up her titantic upper arms.  She rotated her large, lumped shoulders to his quickly roaming touch, causing her freakish trapezius muscles to swell like an ocean hurricane, waves of bulging power surging from collarbone to the tips of her earlobes, jiggling her earrings with the edge of their stone hardness while simultaneously making her long red pigtails jump up a bit.

"Do you like my big, powerful shoulders Tom?" Krissy asked with velvet seduction, pinning her surprisingly bony elbows against diamond cut serratus and the unmoving swells of lat meat, making her blood-engorged, oiled delts erupt in unbelievable size, along with the slow bulge of her unnaturally thick, veiny traps. 

"Concrete, veiny deltoids, huh?  What do you think?  Are they big enough yet?"  she continued to tease as Tom's hands tried desperately to massage her thick traps - he looked like a masseusse going to work on marble - her flesh felt like river stones that had sat in the sun all day under his touch - he could feel the fresh, oxygenated blood pumping relentlessly through hard muscles to feed her swelling, bulging upper arms.

"The scientists sure liked them - and the more they watched, all but a few of them pretty excited," Krissy continued with a slight giggle, her eyes again dropping to Tom's impressively tented pants as his hands were again quickly filled with more of the warm, viscous posing oil.  Krissy shifted again, spinning deceptively quickly for her amazing density and thickness, so that she again faced Tom, face beaming, flushed, beautiful, her prodigious arms glistening, the huge muscles even more outrageous in their definition, covered with fat, protruding, sausage-like veins.  Krissy's perverse, all encompassing pride in her obscene muscularity, her meat-bloated physique's total disregard for all things feminine and natural, was clearly evident to Tom as she looked from one bulging giant cannonball of bicep to the other, self-adoration in her eyes and a bright smile of pure happiness on her face.

Going into a revoltingly cut-deepening crab pose, Krissy concentrated, eyebrows drawing together, focusing her flexing. Her already extremely pumped pecs exploded by inches of coalesced muscle mass, the skin shiny around deep striations of thick meat.

"The bigger I wanted to be.  No, needed to be - after getting big there was no going back - I loved the way my new body felt, I loved being strong, rock hard, and massively built," she finished, looking down lovingly at her squared, mannishly over-muscled breasts, and with one last effortless flexion, snapped the futilely straining, tiny bra for good, tearing one of the miniscule cups against the ungiving, razor edged lump of quivering meat and rendering the thin string ties useless as they disentregated into puffs and scraps of red fabric.  Krissy giggled and shrugged out of the torn remnants of her bra, ripped pecs and immense shoulders swelling and rippling, and looked to Tom, shameless in her toplessness.

"It's okay, sweetie, these stopped being breasts to me a long time ago - now they're just another part of what I've worked hard and been lucky enough to have - big, strong, girlie muscles."  Krissy explained nonchalantley, seeing Tom's eyes automatically divert themselves from the years of socially ingrained training regarding exposed women's breasts.  Only these were like no breasts Tom had ever seen, magazines, websites, and experience combined.

"Oh my God," Tom whispered, both parts awe and shock, as he, given permission of sorts, openly stared now, wide eyed, at one of the last parts of Krissy's meat-stuffed body that had been covered by the delightfully yet ridiculously tiny lingerie set she had stretched around her insane girth.  Her cubes of pec muscle, multiple inches thick and matching the rest of her physique in vascularity, were rounded at the bottom by the afterthought of tiny breast tissue planted atop ripped, rigid mounds of meat.  Cute, tiny nipples, a quarter inch long and pink against deep-tanned skin stood triumphantly, strangely out of place on the swollen, muscular canvas.

Krissy crossed her huge arms, and continued.  "You know all girls want to be able to make their breasts bigger, especially teens - well, I could!  With each day, each workout replacing fat with muscle, I could be any cup size I wanted!" the humongous Olympiette smiled grandly, and with a sly wink, her long black eyelashes bobbing once, slowly, started bouncing her mammoth, naked muscle-tits for Tom. 

His hands went up as if to defend himself, covered with fresh oil, a look of shock and with surprise on his face, Tom was treated to Krissy's show.  Just as he had adjusted to being able to just look at Krissy's unbelievable, bulky pecs, they just as quickly became jumping, bulging orbs of veiny, impossibly shredded muscle, bobbing and at the same time swelling with obscene growth, the strange bulges of her upper pectorals touching the point of her curved chin as she looked down lustfully at the pistoning mounds of meat.  With a long, drawn out sigh of pleasure, she stopped the horrifying, seductive pulsing of her pec dancing, and Tom's hands, idle til now, bolted to the mounds of heated girl-meat, frantic in the movements to knead warm, slippery oil onto every bulge, every lump, every rocky curve of her amazing chest.

"I continued to lift weights ferociously, even sneaking in extra workouts late at night.  I'd save up the pills and syringes, which came much less frequently because of my already superb development.  I think Daddy probably had a hand in that - I already was bigger than the freakiest champion male bodybuilders, and so even the most fringe of the women bodybuilders, abusing steroids for years to morph into hulking mass monsters .... there was no woman that could match up to my muscularity." 

Tom nodded complete agreement, mouth open and eyes glazed, his hands full of quivering female steel pecs now, having already experienced a tauntingly small taste of Krissy's genetically enhanced, unnaturally muscular symphony of the body.  He stared, dumbfounded, at the blocks of powerful muscle inches from his eyes, yet quickly cupped her bullet-hard nipple from underneath the swell of the remainder of breast tissue, and lifted Krissy's big, naked muscle-tit by inches, choking a bit at the feel of the heated weight of it - it had felt like he was lifting a twenty-five pound dumbbell, but rubberized steel couldn't possibly feel this dense, this packed-in, this unbelievably powerful and sexy.  Krissy flexed the fondled muscle hard with a coy smile, and Tom's hand was forced back hard and far enough where he nearly smacked himself in the face as her amazing steel meat-breast erupted underneath his hold, expanding to twice the size of his groping hand in under a second of liquid pectoral flexion.

"You see, Daddy was running for Senate at the time, and if America had found out that he had turned his own daughter into a freak of nature, a girl so muscular that the public couldn't possibly accept it - I'm betting somebody told him that wouldn't be so good of an idea.  I was already in seclusion, and they hoped that by lowering my doses they could stabilize the effect all of that yummy," she licked her lips slowly, the pink tip of her tongue following the pink glisten of her lipstick, "testosterone had had on my poor little body," she finished, her voice dripping sarcasm.

"So I'd save up all of the steroids and growth enhancers for those secret workouts.  I'd inject myself with three or four day's worth of doses, pop a couple of the pills, and pump tons upon tons of steel until I was screaming with the pain, feeling my skin stretch around my visibly growing, pulsing muscles, until I would collapse on the floor, rolling around naked in a big pool of my own sweat as the drugs coursed through every throbbing, swelling, locked up bulge in this body."

"I killed myself night after night, piling on more and more weight and muscle, more thick, swollen girl meat, for them, to be their freak show - I loved the attention, the open mouthed stares of the new workers when they observed me for the first time, the way they couldn't stop staring at me, watching me work out, covered in baby oil, my tiniest thong bikini, veiny.... massive.... muscular," Krissy whispered, her eyes closed as Tom's hands traced each finger of muscle insertion in her bulging, etched, rippling meat-cleavage. 

"Nobody paid attention to me before my accident, but now things were different, now I was big, my body was bulging, ....bursting with hard, thick, unbelievably strong muscles!  I figured out by watching the scientists that a lot of guys really did like muscular girls, as much as they would swear against it - I knew from the stares that they liked my huge size, my sick cuts, they just couldn't stop ogling my amazing, ripped muscles - even the girls!" 

"So many sly looks when they didn't think I was looking, so much keyboard or desk-covered secret masturbation during my workout and posing sessions," the titantic young musclegirl continued, smiling into her client's eyes at the look of pure joy on his face as he traced more and more of her exuberantly prominent, stony musculature. 

"The gifts and money I'd receive on the side from a few who were especially enamored with girlie muscles, the way I had a few of the guys even bringing me MORE steroids and growth enhancers, on promise in whispers of how I wanted to be even bigger, more massively muscular, freakish ...  ripped...  and couldn't they PLEASE help me, didn't they want me more muscular, more jacked than ANY one, woman OR man?" she continued in her breathy, almost whiny soft voice, and Tom knew the scientists in question had been putty in her strong hands.

She stood again in front of him, her naked upper body lubed with warm posing oil, accentuating every ripped sinew that made up the mini-keg sized mounds of pumped-up girl-meat that was now her chest.  "And they did, Tom, they wanted me to get bigger still..." she again struck a crab pose, her oiled, shredded granite mountain range jumping and erupting sickeningly with veiny mass, "... more massive, until I was all muscle, no bodyfat to speak of - until I was a demented, testosterone-fueled she-beast, ripped to shreds, bigger than anyone, bursting with power," she exhaled deeply, lust oozing from every pore as she turned herself on uncontrollably talking about her beloved, freakshow physique. 

"And I wanted what they wanted, Tom," she continued, and inhaled sharply, ballooning her thick abdominal column, swelling her stomach like a drumhead, topped by bubbles of abdominal cuts that raised, ridged, like the bumps of a tortoise shell.  Inevitably, her entire midsection quickly was invaded by cabled, split veins and pumping, inch thick arteries as she flexed the distended, steel wall, blowing out a disgusting twelve pack of popping, apple-sized bulges that Tom quickly ran his oiled hands over frantically, trying in vain to oil one rolling bubble of meat completely as all twelve shifted, squirming, swelling and receding, on the young girl's bloated torso.

"It's my destiny to beat the best, Tom - to be the biggest, most muscular girl in the world.  I want everyday people to be revolted by how huge my muscles are, how ripped my conditioning is, how many veins I have on every inch of my pumped up, chemical-injected, musclebound body," she whispered to him, eyes half-lidded, revealing at last her truest fantasy. 

"And for guys like you, for guys like you and the scientists, I want to be your freak ... your muscle-goddess, your barrell chested, hammer-armed, brick-shithouse built bimbo!  I want to pump myself up, inflate myself with sick, record-breaking, mountains of muscles for you to worship, to touch and feel, to pleasure yourself to, no matter what it takes," she continued in the same seducitve, feathery tone, as Tom had finally finished oiling up the first six pack in her mindblowing set of two - he felt her belly button, stretched insanely into a hard, thin slit by the explosive, waist-thickening mass of horribly cut up muscle that was her midsection.  Painfully and unmistakeably hard himself, Tom quickly filled his hands yet again with more of the oil - the scant moments away from the rippling, beastly abdominal wall in front of him were like torture, knowing that his fantasy, thickly muscled and ripped to shreds, was right in front of him, sexily awaiting his touch and worship.

As he oiled her amazing lower abs, wincing and drawing back a bit as he felt the cut bubbles continue even under the tiny triangle of her panties towards a mound of meat and her tender sex, Krissy continued her sexy whisper.

"How big would you like me to be, Tom?" she cooed, stepping up and away from him, skin slicked with oil, naked from the waist up and disgustingly pumped, huge muscles straining against one another under tight, shining brown skin.  Her tiny lace panties were stretched grotesquely across the swells and balls of muscles that surrounded her tiny hips, eclipsed from the far side by the begginnings of skin-bursting blocks of striated, veiny quad meat.

"I can be bigger than this, I can work out for you," she continued, panting a little bit in anticipation.  "I can get huge for you, Tom, do you want me to do that?  Just say the word and I'll pump myself to the limits, stuff and force myself with bigger, harder, veiny muscles until you'll think I might rupture," she finished, licking her lips again slowly, clearly enjoying herself.

"But first, I think you have me at a clothing disadvantage," she giggled, and reached down to Tom's pants, tented out by inches from his throbbing manhood.  Quick as lightning, she had grasped the trouser fabric and ripped the pants from his body, amazing strength destroying the seam of the jeans and removing his pants forcibly before he even moved.  He sat, eyes wide open at the feat, in tighty whities stretched to their limit by the size of his arousal.

"And these," she giggled again, and before Tom knew it, she had him completely naked, the remnants of his shirt and underwear dropped from her tiny hands.  She looked him up and down once, eyes lingering for a minute on his impressively excited bodypart, and turned to the hotel bed.

"What do you weigh, Tom, about 160?" Krissy asked, fluttering her black mascaraed eyelashes in girlish fashion.  He nodded quickly, confused and excited at the same time, and Krissy turned away from him, striding to the bed with tremendous flexing and swelling of her tree trunk thighs and muscular ass.  She sat on the edge of the bed, bringing a desperate cry from the bedsprings as it accomodated her abnormal mass, and grasped the tiny laced panties, pulling them over her titantic quads and delineated leg biceps.  Tom's eyes locked in as Krissy slowly pulled them down, and to no one's surprise, they snapped like thread when presented with the thickest part of her staggering thigh development.  Krissy dropped them aside the bed with a shrug in his direction, and beckoned him over with a pink lacquered fingernail.

[batuffolino]

7

Krissy's body was coated with a slick sheen of mixed posing oil and sweat, every naked inch of her gigantic, muscle-laden and disturbingly quivering he-man's physique highlighted and glistening, bulging in impossible, masculine superhero blocks. 

The massive young musclefreak was smiling ecstatically, whining, and grimacing in intermittent, abrupt cycles, the rush toward explosive orgasm induced by blowing out and pumping up her titantically muscular, scientifically mutated physique in front of an adoring, worshipping client, combined with the now excruciating, ultimately exciting pain of curling him one-handed off the floor of the hotel room making a fearsome theater of her face. 

What it did to her already staggering body was hard to describe in words - thick, angry cables of veins and arteries pumped visibly under her saran-wrapped, unblemished bronze skin as she curled Tom again, not quite as quickly as the previous twenty-some reps and somewhat jerkily.

Tom, for his part, had his large hands wrapped around Krissy's wrist.  Her wrist felt fragile, bony in his grip.  It left him flabberghasted how her skinny wrists could metamorphose just inches above, where the larger muscles of her muscle-stuffed forearms insertions met bone.  He inched his hand upward carefully, over oil-slicked skin, to touch the inches-thick, corded tenderloins of muscle rippling along, forming a large, lumpy cone of hard girl-meat on her forearms.  Tom looked up past the granite-solid, horrifyingly cantaloupe-sized biceps muscle looming, swelling and bulging quirkily like an animal inside a balloon, struggling to burst free from its' confines.  Krissy's once angelic face was now pain-filled as she completed the tortuous rep, interspersed with tortured grunting, spit flying from her bitten pink lips. 

"HnnngnnNNNNHHH!  I'd say you're .... " the bulging bodybuilderette huffed, " ..... a lot closer to 200, Tom," Krissy finished and then groaned in outright pain, her disturbingly shaking biceps grotesque and HUGE, the tiny fibers that formed each monstrous swell fully visible, her skin audibly groaning itself, its' surface shiny and stretched.  Tom feared Krissy might be, as bewildering as it was to him, just too massively muscular, as she started to reach size and swollen mass-levels that were sickly beyond what even Tom's dedicated schmoe, muscle-loving mind could even digest.  The determined torture that the chemically altered, impossibly musclebound young lady curling him had put her arms to had developed them to unnatural size and ripped conditioning.

There was a slight knock at the door, but neither occupant heard it due to the increasing volume of  Krissy's animalistic grunting, huffing and squealing as her already bloated, inflated naked body expanded still a bit more, impossibly swelling with bigger, striated man-meat - Tom looked up to her grimacing, red face, startled, as Krissy's overtaxed skin groaned loudly, like a sneaker run down a leather sofa, as more volume of unnautral she-beef coalesced all over her vibrating, muscle-bursting young body.  Her eyes were closed, wrenched in pain and crinkled as the ongoing curls showed her incredible power and stamina, in addition to her blatantly obvious mass and size.

The maid, Rosa, had opened the door with impatience and crossed the threshhold of the hotel room, eyes immediately drawn to the horrid, movie-monster abomination of nature groaning loudly atop the bed.  She had just accidentally walked in on some perverted gay sex act in progress, she thought with  annoyance and much disgust.  She noticed quite instantly that the short, groaning man on the bed was most obviously abusing truckloads of steroids - as he curled his friend, grunting and groaning like a penned bull, his body was visibly growing, pumped up to a vein-riddled, ridiculous and gag-inducing extent, and Rosa's hand went to her mouth at the incredible, frankly disgusting and yet strangely stimulating sight. 

This guy must inject juice by the gallon, she thought with twinned dismayed scorn and surprise at the circus-show human being, thinking of the punishment this young man was forcing his body into, and for what?  Huge, unnatural looking, bulging muscles all over, erupting in freakish valleys and mountains of hard, ugly power lumps. 

Rosa personally thought the look of the bigger bodybuilders, especially the muscle-women with their cartoonishly exaggerated shapes, fake tits due to their obsession, and muscled jawlines, to be too much, too beyond developed.  This muscle-monster in front of the diminutive Hispanic girl put even muscle-mag cover-gracing, roid-injected men's champions to shame.

To each their own, she tried to convince herself in an unexpected moment of tolerance, from which she was ripped violently by the tremendously loud groan and visible muscle inflation of the jacked-up, rivers-sweating bodybuilder as another repetition with a heavy human weight was completed. 

Head still down in concentration, Rosa supposed, the man's morphing arm was hyperdeveloped and incomprehensibly pumped up - huge, throbbing veins splayed across what looked like four individual muscle heads, each quivering and writhing underneath taut, tanned and oiled skin to form a gigantic, bulbous biceps that was by far and away bigger than any Rosa had ever seen, football linebackers eclipsed by this young freak. 

Krissy's monstrous physique had now reached the point where even Tom, his mind fried by the proximity to his ultimate fantasy, a young, powerfully muscular, gorgeous female bodybuilder, began to wonder if this, this extreme, was truly attractive and sexy, though his hugely erect manhood told the truth of the matter. 

Krissy was muscle-fetish on overdrive, amplified by a factor of ten in her unnaturally overpowering, dominant, pants-tentingly extreme muscularity.  Tom continued to witness her continued growth and alarming striation, mountainous muscles swelling and bulging against each others' dually rocky and slicked, swollen surfaces.  A loud, drawn-out half grunt and keening wail, and the Athenian beast began another curl. 

Rosa's throat tightened and her stomach jumped as the freakshow muscleman's body literally inflated by multiple inches with another wave of rippling mass.  Head down, traps hulking, his huge, swollen and musclebound body actually vibrating, every square inch of his naked chest cut with deep crevasses of striation criss-crossed with interstate networks of pulsing veins.  His gay lover hung from his cartoon-like arm, naked, with an impressively big, hard cock swinging between his legs that jerkied every few seconds as if on a marionette string.

********

Chapter 8 -

The look of this he-man's body was at most times horrifying, yet at other times, incredibly arousing, but not in a wholly sexual way - as another grunting, incredible curl of the other grown man was completed, Rosa realized she was aroused by the unreal strength and the muscles carrying it, the want to be powerful that his amazing physique encompassed.  She looked quickly back at the door, and realized she would likely be caught now if she tried to slink back out.

"I'm so .... sorry, gentle .... men," Rosa began, stumbling akwardly and backing towards the door, and then her jaw became unhinged.  An instant prior to the look of disgust, disbelief, and shock that contorted the young girl's face, Krissy's mascara-lashed green eyes rose with her head to look at the unknown new guest, and Rosa could see atop the steroid-injected, ripped and meat-stuffed male bodybuilders' physique two flame-red pigtails tied in white lace bows framing a beautifully feminine face, the young girl's lips in a small 'o' of surprise, emerald eyes wide in shock at the intrusion. 

Rosa looked in disbelief from the gorgeous, soft features of Krissy's face to the ultimate contrast that she had mistaken for a chemically enhanced man's body. 
Her feministically ruined, titless chest was comprised of two dodecahedranal orbs of delineated, shredded pec muscles that were sickly bulging, swollen to the point that her nipples pointed straight down, trapped underneath a shelf of stony girl-beef.  It really was no wonder that she had thought this young, freak show mucle-girl a man.

Rosa's stuck wide eyes followed the obvious pointers to Krissy's distended, heaving stomach.  With each rapid, labored breath the young bodybuilderette's stomach swelled by a half foot, making her masculine, cubical muscle-tits jiggle disturbingly with the forced upswing, the swollen bulge of her midsection subdivided in a grid of individual, skin stretching, gorge-raising bubbles of abdominal development that were quickly overcome by a speeding wave of thick, throbbing veins and arteries, crawling across her swollen drumhead abdominal wall like invading worms. 

As she had jerked upwards at the maid's unexpected appearance, Krissy's thick, bulging stomach had drawn in, pool-ball sized abs vacuuming, and her sex was revealed - it was obscene, an affront to everything and anything remotely feminine.  The small clam of her shaved sex was surrounded by violent, angry swells, exploding from her pelvis in odd mountain ranges, roped with thick, pumping, muscle-engorging veins in what was supposed to be the most delicate of places.  Gourd-like, fist sized thigh-muscle insertions completed the revolting picture, rendering the area between Krissy's blown out thighs an abomination to winess.

Despite the strain of keeping 200+ pound Tom aloft with one swollen, meat-inflated arm, Krissy was delighted by the sight of the young Hispanic woman, a blanked-out stare of on her pretty face, her jaw swung wide open, her tongue even poking out a bit.  Mind blown, the maid stood frozen and stared at the impossible, naked young real-life anatomy chart, all ridiculous swells, bulges, and rippling  hard meat where soft curves and feminine lines should've been. 

Krissy looked down lustily, and flexed her half-foot-thick, titanium pecs for her new guest.  The melons of meat rippled, a wave of flexion crossing the thick mounds from bottom to top - her tiny, erect pink nipples slid again under the muscle ocean's surface as the swell reached its staggering summit.  Krissy, enjoying the slack-jawed, frightened and ultimately confused look on Rosa's face, along with the mixture of awe and need in the pretty girl's eyes made her go for gold, and she began to make her beef-injected pecs alternately jump, the beef orbs erasing any last hint of normal looking, soft and fleshy breasts, bouncing on wave after wave of huge, hard muscle. 

Rosa stared as if watching a car wreck, witnessing the impossible as Krissy's thick, mannish chest rumbled, expanding upwards and outwards simultaneously and horribly, swelling to nearly a foot thick each of veinous, rippling meat.  Rosa's stomach couldn't take the unbelievable, disgustingly unnatural sight anymore, and she violently vomited a hot stream of liquid onto the carpet.  Krissy giggled in delight as the poor befuddled girl instantly dropped to her knees in the puddle of her own vomit from merely being a witness to her drug-enhanced, hyper-muscularity, the young girl groaning and holding her aching, roiling stomach, unable to move. 

Waves of nausea continued to attack Rosa as she paid her unwilling, strange tribute to the impossibly muscular, disgustingly meat-bloated young girl, unbelievably still holding Tom with one muscle-writhing arm, his hugely erect, throbbing dick jumping in strange rhythms, looking ready to explode at Krissy's whim. 

Rosa, meanwhile, was paralyzed, her mind shut down with the images of the demented muscularity on freakshow display in this girl's diminutive five-foot one frame - every inch of her was molded steel, sheathed with unnaturally huge, retch-inducing bulbuous bulging balloons of meat.  Even with her cheek in the resultant puddle of hot expulsion, her eye rolled involuntarily to look with envy and wanting once again on Krissy's freakish, oil slicked physique.

"MMMMMNNnnnfff! Yeahhhhh ...."  Krissy moaned, a blissful smile on her half-lidded face, and flexed her free bicep, watching her arm swell with pumped girl meat, going in an instant from insane to impossible.  Her ridiculous, twin pillars of unnatural muscle were horrfyingly huge and razor edged.  The effort elicited the loud groan and actually drew blood from her painfully bitten lip, holding Tom's form straight out at arm's length, his shocked and adoring eyes locked in on her skin-splitting, quivering biceps head right in front of him.

Tom, despite his raging erection and feeling he might explode at any second, began to feel spit gathering in his own mouth in preparation to being nauseous as witness to Krissy's horribly cut-up, bulging mass of unnatural, norms-defiant twenty-eight inch biceps heads - their craggy surfaces were intertwined, snaking vascularity, ever-changing angles as her lifting arm had reached its peak limit - her skin about to split around the surging she-muscle.

"I'm ... so.... JACKED,"  Krissy exhaled strongly, a mist of spit escaping dainty pink lips with her exertion.  "That maid thought I was a ....", the immensely pumped up muscle-goddess continued in rapid fire, groaning loudly, head thrashing about a bit, ruby pigtails swinging from side to side, as soon as she spat the small phrase out.  "MAN!, Tom!" a wide, white smile was immediately vanquished as she grunted, a deep frown flashing across her flushed, gorgeous face as a wave of muscle-locking pain struck her quivering, alarmingly writhing, pulsating muscle-bound arm. 

"Look at my....HUGE.... biceps, Tom.... MMMNNNFFFFF!! ... " Krissy commanded in her sweet, feathery voice but ended in an uncontrollable, bullish grunt.  She finally let Tom touch the floor again, lowering him slowly as the sickeningly gigantic bicep began to stretch back out a bit, trembling and quivering strangely, yet starting to lose its nightmare-inducing girth.  Krissy knew instinctually that to force any more unbelievable size into her steroid-built edifice of a physique was to risk the rupture of her skin like that of a split grape. 

***************************

[batuffolino]

Looking for a story: A young girl gets forced by her father/ stepfather to build up muscles.  Someone know any kind of this story?

It may be...

Life with Trina
by TheSabre

"Wow, I'm really getting pretty cut, look at me!" Trina gasped in her cute accent as she gazed lovingly into the mirror. In her admired reflection was a taut, tanned five-foot three frame, swelling and bulging with unbelievable, nauseating, hard-fought-for girl muscles. She twisted her striated, muscle bloated torso to the left and right, accentuating the ripples of her midsection. Her bared stomach, framed by a tiny pink halter top and hotpants set, waffled with bulges of muscle.

I grabbed the teen girl with one hand by her neck, and slammed her thick body against the wall with as much force as I could possibly muster. Her bull neck filled my hand as I raised her an inch off the ground. Her blue eyes were wide and frightened as she stared at me.

"Trina, what did I tell you about pride?" I snarled, and rammmed my fist into her protruding, waffled stomach. Her eyes widened further as my punch landed home against her muscular yet unprepared midsection. Her groan was loud, and long as she exhaled Juicy Fruit breath into my face.

"These abs aren't hard at all," I continued, pistoning my fist in and out, landing blows that made Trina's muscular little body convulse. I could feel her abs tightening and flexing, trying to ward off my punches, but to no avail - she could only hold her breath in so long, and the constant punishment was making her pool-racked abdominal muscles weaken. I occasionally threw a slamming jab into one of her young, robust, rock-hard breasts, pounding them mercielssly until Trina unintentionally flexed it to protect it, opening another huge blow to her sexy, waffled little stomach.

She began to sob, crying out with each punch. Trina's neck was a nest of strong snakes in my grip, and she began to choke, coughing as I beat her unnatural, ridged stomach with every ounce of power I could. It felt like hitting a side of beef, and as she writhed against the wall, twisting, I began to uppercut into her ribs, which weren't protected by the ridges and swells of muscle on the rest of my daughter's body. Trina cried out as I nailed a solid blow into her armpit. Her lesson taught, I dropped her to the floor. Her tanned, ridiculously bumpy physique hit the floor with a loud smack and a perceivable vibration on the floor.

"Owww......I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry!" Trina whimpered, her small hands covering her injured stomach.

"Get up Trina, and stop wasting time." I spoke sternly. "Get yourself oiled, and we'll go through your poses. Then, dinner, then 4 more hours of lifting. You know the routine." Trina quickly got up, her stomach showing my fistmarks, and grabbed the bottle of baby oil from the counter next to the weight sets. She handed it to me, and hit a mind-blowing double bicep pose. Before my eyes Trina's entire body inflated, as if attached to a strong bicycle pump. Huge wedges of meat filled out in her tanned arms, expanding to the point of disgustingness.

She pumped them, as hard as she could, trying to appease me, and it worked - the huge balls of muscle atop my little girl's arms were massive, trembling and powerful, and I couldn't stay mad at her. One small tear dropped from her big eyes as she held a quivering, muscle bloating pose of her thick, hard biceps for me.

"Jesus, Trina, you are getting pretty big," I agreed, filling my hands with the mounds of her upper arms. Her doe eyes looked up into mine as I filled my hands with her bulging, stone hard arms. She smiled and began to pump her biceps under my eager, kneading hands, and I could feel as her strong muscles expanded, bulging and hard, and stretched out, still tense and feeling like vulcanized rubber. I looked her up and down, and noticed with pleasure, amazement and a tinge of disgust - her teenaged body was thick, hard as steel, and bulbous with strange, quirky and unnatural musculature. At the tender age of sixteen, she already posessed the physique of a Ms. Olympia, the hardness, along with the staggering size and conditioning of a twenty year veteran, female bodybuilding champion.

Trina had been a poor, starving Croatian girl of only eleven years when I had first met her in the makeshift war hospital. I had been sponsoring her for years, not knowing what my money was going to, when I finally got fed up. Hearing of her being wounded and hospitalized, mostly for malnutrition, was the final straw. Using some old connections and buddies from college now in the Army, I worked it out that I could take full custody of her and move her to the United States. Upon our arrival, Trina had been a stick, malnourished, sick a majority of the time, and lacked any confidence or self-esteem. I immediately got her started on a training program, and she took to it like water.

She worked out relentlessly and ate like a linebacker.

As the months and then years went by, Trina had so dedicated herself to training and a healthy lifestyle that her results were tremendous, if not downright amazing - before where her body had looked withered and frail, she now had ultra developed muscles, especially for a girl of so young an age. Her thin arms were now rippling, bulging mounds of muscle and strength - her neck, long and thin, was now a mass of corded muscle and tendon. Her ribcage, which had been disturbingly apparent, was now encased in sheaths of girl muscle, and her chest was thick with rumbling pectorals, doubtless from the excruciating hours of pressing, pulling, and heaving heavier and heavier weights in Trina's full blown effort to become a bursting young musclegirl. Now, after almost five solid years of such efforts, she was quite possibly the strongest woman in the world, much less the ensured title of most muscular teen.

I would often watch her work out in the skimpiest of bikinis. Trina was very self conscious about her body, but not in front of me - for me, her 'savior', she relished her body, her amazing development, and wanted me to see every available inch of it. As I watched, jaw agape, she would punish her body to grow for me, to multiply the thickness and numbver of straining, completely evident muscles on her short frame. She would end the workouts exhausted, tears of pain drying on her face, and unbelievably pumped. She would flex for me, the tiny bikinis stretching to accomodate her pumped up girth and size, grimacing as she did it, but doing it still, giving each group of muscles a full exhibition of striations and swelling growth.

Trina also loved to do her 'live workouts'. I would lure people back to the house - men, local college jocks, football players, etc. Trina reveled in using her hugely developed, powerhouse teen body to dismantle these men and women, nearly always having them begging for mercy between her titantic thighs. But what she loved most, and got least often, was punishing women with her freakish power and muscle strength. Trina reveled in the disgust, amazement, and sometimes worship from the women she beat, degraded and dominated with her tremendous physique.

One night I managed to get a female rugby player from the local college over. I told her I was with a magazine that covered women's sports, and that she should be on the next cover. She eagerly agreed, coming to my house for dinner. She was thick, cocky, and looked incredibly strong in her armless tshirt. Her arms were thick, slabs of muscle moving under her skin under a slight layer of fat. She was a senior, 22 years old, and her name was Veronica. I was amazed - her face was remarkably beautiful, big almond shaped brown eyes balancing a full, round face with sexy pouty lips. Her chest was huge, causing her smock style shirt to end halfway down her stomach. What could be seen was solid looking, a line running down the middle of her midsection, ending at her belly button. We sat down at the dinner table, and talked of her athletic training, rugby, and sports in general.

While we ate, I could hear the occasional clang from the basement as Trina pumped up for her impending fight. I knew that my little girl was throwing around huge amounts of weight, wanting to be as big, pumped and sweat slicked as possible to intimidate this girl with the mere sight of her Amazonian teen physique. I shifted the conversation, talking about rugby with the young woman.  Veronica talked excitedly about how brutal a sport it was, how good it felt to lay a big hit on someone, bragging about various scuffles she had been in.  I took my chance, and told her my daughter was an aspiring player herself, and was also into MMA  I offerred the collegiate athlete one hundred dollars to go a few rounds with Trina, to give her some 'live action'.  She quickly agreed, probably broke like all college kids were, but also clearly excited by the idea of a fight - I didn't think Veronica would be dispapointed.

After our meal, I led Veronica to the stairs to the basement, where the gym equipment and wrestling mats were kept. We walked down the stairs where Trina was waiting, her entire physique covered with a large robe that effectively hid her robust, unnatural muscularity from the casual eye. Veronica turned quickly to me as we reached the bottom of the stairs and she caught one look at my teen daughter.

"I don't fight kids, man," Veronica drawled casually, looking at Trina's short, robe-covered body and painfully young face with disdain. Her own buxom, curved physique filled her lime green micro-bikini nicely - her smooth, strong muscles looked great against the tiny, stretched pieces pieces of fabric.

"If this is what you get off on, your own daughter and all, this isn't even worth the $100 ..." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Trina's tanned little hand untie the belt on her robe. Veronica trailed off as her eye caught her first sight of Trina's amazing development.

My little girl had been hard at work - her body nearly pulsed with blood engorged, vein riddled muscle. Networked roadmaps of veins of different sizes spread from her pubis and chest to worm their way across her stretched young skin. Every inch of her 5'3, teenaged body was lumpy and deformed by unnatural, quivering muscle. Her huge, rigid chest was just barely encased by a micro string bikini, pink and shiny, accenting her tanned skin tone. A light oiling, or perhaps sweat sheen, was evident across her teen physique, highlighting the intersections and swells of her massively developed muscle groups.

Trina simply stood, staring right into Veronica's eyes to gauge her fear. She loved every instant of someone's first reaction to her chiseled, distended abs, her muscle-bursting upper arms or her pillars of leg meat, cut and defined. Trina's gigantic thighs were as thick as Veronica's midsection.

Veronica outwardly didn't seem to be fazed by Trina's blatant, unnatural muscularity. She looked, half-lidded, up and down my teen muscle-maiden's body, and snorted, a sneer on her beautiful face to replace the initial look of astonishment

"Jesus, are you cut! I'd like to train with ya sometime, pipsqueak! But a whole bunch of show muscle ain't gonna help ya, sweetie," Veronica drawled, slapping her thick arms. "These arms are for putting on hits, not for primping and posing." Her meaty arms were tensed, solid muscles expanding. I couldn't help but admire her a little bit as she did pump her thick biceps, once, as if to compare them with Trina's massive guns.

She turned to me, and said in a sarcastic tone, "And you, you need help, freak. Stop feeding your daughter roids to pump her up like a balloon, thats' what you need to do. I don't know what kind of sick, muscle-freak weirdo you are, but lets' get it on, I can use that extra $100." Veronica pirouetted to face Trina, treating me to a long look at her perfectl rounded glutes, split down the middle by her lime green thong bottoms.

All of a sudden, like lightning, Veronica's fist was connecting with Trina's unprepared, yet still bloated and rigid stomach. A loud thud echoed in my basement as bone connected with flesh. Veronica's eyes widened. Her best blow, a blindingly fast and powerful sucker rabbit punch, had had no effect - a small fist mark rose,bright red, against Trina's bulging midriff. My little musclegirl hadn't moved an inch.

I could see the bodybuilder beauty queen was grinning from ear to ear, white teeth sparkling against her tan. She inhaled quickly, sucking in her stomach as far as possible. Her ribs poked out slightly with the full vacuum, but then she curled in. A sea of muscles rippled, and then Trina's stomach was transformed, built into an unnatural, striated twelve pack, inches deep and cut, veins quickly springing out from her bikini bottoms to crawl across the mountainous skinscape.  Veronica quickly reared back, balancing all her weight, and unloaded a shoulder-driven hammer to Trina's face.

Caught in her powerful feelings of muscular stength and invincibility, Trina didn't move quickly enough. Crack! Veronica's punch caught Trina right on the jaw, and her head snapped back alarmingly fast. Veronica brutally brought her elbow around, using all of her momentum and strength to drive it. Her elbow smashed into Trina's mouth, open slightly with amazement from the first hit. I winced as Trina's head snapped backwards at a very awkward angle. Her bright blue eyes began to roll back in her head, and Veronica capitalized, raining a four punch flurry of head rocking punches. Finally Trina dropped to the ground like a stone, a loud thump as her thick, muscular young body hit the concrete floor.

I was astounded. Veronica turned to me with her hand out. "Little freak doesn't have muscles on her face, does she mister?" Veronica twanged, her voice full of sarcasm. "I told ya I was strong," she continued, flexing her arms, which jumped with wedges of biceps. "Your daughter might want to hit some real weights, develop some real strength," she said, winking. Shocked, I stared from the buxom brunette down to the floor where Trina lay, knocked out cold, her muscles limp and full, a wet spot of oil from where she had initially dropped. Veronica dropped onto one knee in front of my bikini clad amazon, looking up to me with that same grin on her face.

"Wake up, darlin," Veronica laughed, shaking Trina's still unmoving form. Veronica's hand looked tiny against the pumpkins of Trina's tanned delts. Even fully relaxed, they were pumped and hard as steel. "Come on, Ms. Junior Olymp .....chhhh!"

Trina's small, delicate hand bulleted outwards, taking a deadly grip on Veronica's neck. Veronica's eyes bugged, deep brown eyes showing fear as her face colored red instantly as Trina's grip shut her windpipe.

Trina regained her feet, still holding Veronica suspended with one hand. The muscles of that arm bulged insanely, and rightly so - my little girl was holding a girl of at least 155 pounds straight out with one thick, meaty arm, without any extra tremble of effort. Trina raised Veronica further into the air as she struck an awesome hammer-curl pose with her other arm, causing her forearm to explode into cords and weird bulges of muscle, as well as swell her bicep to skin-bursting proportion. Veronica was now clawing at Trina's thick forearm, in vain, beating on her swollen, rippling arm to allow herself some air.

"You hit like a little boy, bitch," Trina said in her feathery, accented voice.

"Your body is nothing compared to mine," Trina sneered as she admired her boulder of quivering bicep meat. "I'm four years younger but ten times stronger, Veronica," she continued to berate the rugby star, whose face was blood red and her eyes frantic. She slightly flexed her right side pectoral, making it jump and bulge insanely against her bikini, expanding and spilling over the cup with liquid steel.

"My tits are as big as yours, but not a useless bulge of fat!" Trina laughed. "My body is a temple for strength, muscle, and dominance, and yours an embarassment! Besides, rugby is for pussies!" she finished, and wound up.

Trina ripped a tremendous blow to Veronica's abs. The 22 year old's stomach muscles collapsed inwards, the impossible force of a young musclegirl's punch destroying them, pushing through as if hitting a pillow. Veronica's eyes bugged as Trina's meaty forearm buried into her gut. Spit flew, and she dropped to the floor, gagging. Trina looked over one rippling, meat covered shoulder, and blew a kiss with small pink lips. She then turned back to the groaning, writhing rugby player and spread her pillars of legs, tensing her entire body for a mindblowing, terror-inducing, volcanic flex.

Trina didn't disappoint - in seconds, her already huge body inflated with pumped, adrenaline fed muscles. Veins pulsed to feed my little girls' flex, and her pink bikini stretched to its limit. Veronica moaned on the floor as she saw my daughter's true size and strength. Trina's quivering, muscle-laden, THICK young body loomed over Veronica, and between her moans of pain and small gasps of disbelief at my teen muscle queen's true girth and MASS, Veronica began to cry.

Trina flexed her back into a lat spread that hid Veronica from my sight, eclipsed by boulder thighs and a cobra-hood of hard back muscles that looked freakish on a woman of any age, much less my eighteen year old, Czech, adopted bodybuilding daughter.

"For show, huh?" she squeaked, her rock hard body suspended in one amazing, all encompassing flex. Her amazing physique trembled with the exertion but her beefy, ripped body had never looked better. From behind I could see her full, trembling glutes trying to escape the thong bikini bottoms. Each buttcheek was full, and I could see small striations starting to come in. My daughter was truly a specimen of female muscle and power and domination.

[tapion]

Thank you! Its a nice story!

If anyone had another one like this.. I would be glad [to hear] about it :-)

[derekr]

The Sabre posted this on another site ages ago.  Still one of the best stories I've ever read.  Lots of muscle, sex, and steroid use.

Muscle Sex
by The Sabre



"I found a way for us both to enjoy it," I started nervously, picking up the Playstation 3 controller. Sarah walked into the living room slowly, not understanding.

"Enjoy what, David?" she asked, looking at the controller in my hand. "Video games? I'm really not interested."

"No, Sarah, my.... my fetish. Um,... for muscular women." As uncomfortable as voicing it sounded to me, there was no point in trying to be coy - Sarah had already seen the proof on my Windows Media Player, left on carelessly after masturbating, spitting out randomly thousands of clips of oiled, veiny, massively muscular women either in the tiniest and tightest of bikinins or stark naked, garnered from numerous websites over the past few years. She had also read 'stories' left up on the monitor accidentally, all about young, obscenely muscular and usually sexually aggressive girls and women. Yes, Sarah had found out my fetish - my obsession for strong, muscular females had been laid out in the open just that morning, and with me embarassed, had resulted in a fight, and she had stormed off to work, crying, but parted with this statement :

"David, I just want to be a part of what you enjoy. I was considering getting steroids, for fuck's sake! All for you, to be what you wanted - big and muscular!" and left, the door slamming behind her. We had made up over the phone hours later, and she explained that she didn't mind it, everybody had their fetishes, she just wished I hadn't tried to hide it from her. Sarah didn't understand - the social stigma against saradass was fairly deeply rooted in at an early age, being a black and white contrast to what male America thought sexy - thin, artificially big-titted bimbos with anemically thin bodies. I promised to try and share my fetish with her like she wanted.

I had already loaded a jumpdrive full of some of the best clips I had - I made sure that they were all of facially gorgeous young bodybuilders, not some of the more hardcore stuff I had where the steroid abuse was blatantly obvious - meat-stuffed freaks that I enjoyed on a different level, excepting of course their masculine faces. I enjoyed their hyper-developed physiques, outrageous in their bulging, unnatural size and ripped-to-the-bone conditioning, but also found the slightly less 'jacked' girls, the ones who looked like supermodels that couldn't resist the lure of hard steel, equally arousing. No, I had decided, to start with, I wanted to ease Sarah carefully into into my world of female muscle fetish, not drop a nuclear bomb of gigantic, steroid-fed veiny balls of ridiculous, shredded mass, and so picked some of the most attractive, if a little less freakily musclebound, bodybuilding girls that I had collected.

Sarah sat down next to me on the sofa, and took my hand. With the other hand I found the folder on the PS3 and started the first video. I had put some muscle porn first on the playlist, not sure how she would react to simple muscle-posing - while the sight of a young, robustly developed girl in a bikini flexing and pumping her hard-earned muscles for the camera did wonders for my sexual excitement, I didn't know how well that would work with a straight, relatively sexually 'normal' girl. So, the credits rolled by, and the sounds of a grunting, moaning woman came through the speakers - just a little bit too loud. I turned it down a bit, trying not to bother the neighbors, and nervously watched both the television and my girlfriend Sarah out of the corner of my eye to try to judge her reaction to what she was seeing.

In the back of my mind a persistent voice called out that my girlfriend would find my obsession disgusting, homoerotic, absolutely intolerable, and probably all three. Finally, the blackened screen brightened with the first of the clip, and Yvette Bova's naked, muscle-stuffed physique was immediately the center of both of our attentions, the full-on pleasured grunting now accompanied by the sight of this thick, hugely meat-bloated female bodybuilder getting railed from behind by a man that looked relatively like a stick figure. With each deep thrusting of the pornstar's formidably long manhood, the twin, lumped mounds of her bubbled, muscular glutes jumped up, hardening and bulging quirkily as she pushed back into his thrusts, taking every inch of him inside. Outrageously huge, obviously fake naked tits swing back and forth like a pendulum keeping time atop the relatively smaller, squared blocks of pectorals that would've almost filled a C-cup themselves.

"Oh my God," Sarah whispered, and I turned immediately, wide-eyed at the enthusiastically loud outburst, to look at her, expecting to find a frown of disgust on her face. "She's HUGE!..." she trailed off with her eyes wide and then she finally peeled them from the television screen and the accompanying sweating, grunting, muscle-fucking she beast to turn to me, a small smile curling the edges of her lips.

"Yeah, she's pretty big..." I began akwardly, looking down to my noticeably tented lap in a mixture of apprehension and confusion. I looked up sharply, nearly gasping in surprise, as I felt her hand brush my crotch lightly, quickly settling and feeling my ramrod straight, iron manhood throught the cloth of my pants.

"Oooooh," she cooed, her eyes half-lidded and the smile becoming wider, "So is this thing, big just like her, BIG and HARD," with each word of emphasis she squeezed, making my hips buck slightly with the feeling of her skilled grip on me. Sarah now lightly jacked me off through my pants as she returned her remaining attention to the video clip, where Yvette now straddled the exhausted looking pornstar, literally mounted the much smaller man, her body so wide and thick with huge, pistoning meat that all you could see of her sexual prey was two bone white, stick thin legs protruding from under Yvette's bulging ass and between her rock hard thighs.

"So.... so what do you think?" I asked sheepishly as she continued to pump my rigid, twitching manhood emphatically, eyes locked in on the huge, screen filling black bodybuilder as her back exploded and receded with rock hard, unbelievable muscles as she ground her dripping, voracious vagina into the helpless, pinned man, her fingers splayed on his chest as she muscle-fucked him aggressively, grunting like an angry bull.

"I think I like what this is doing for you," Sarah purred, not a stroke of my cock or a second of the blatant muscle-sex exhibition mised at her reply. "I don't think I've ever felt you this hard and big David!" she continued with wonder in her voice. At this point, the first clip faded to black, and I picked up the controller once again from the coffee table.

She turned to me with a sweet smile, her grip tightening once again as she squeezed sensually, and asked, "Do you have more? I want to see more big, hard, strong muscles," she almost moaned, licking her lips knowingly, and I almost came right there. "Show me more m...mm..muscles, David, please," she whispered, letting go of my member for just long enough to expertly release my belt and spring it from its denim prison. I hit the play button for the next video clip as she took me inside her mouth, her tongue running the length of my shaft expertly.

"Mmmm...." she continued, facing me as she licked the entirety of my iron manhood, her eyes locked on mine as I watched her, her wet tongue slathering me with a light coating of her saliva that vanished almost instantly, a slight coolness left behind to counter the painfully close warmth of her tongue on yet another inch of me.

"You really DO like musclegirls, huh David?" she teased evilly, knowing full well by the look on my face the effect her words were having, "their HUGE muscles stretching their tanned, oiled skin, all veiny, and hard, massive.... muscles.... mmmm...." with each word her tongue flicked out, using just the tip to stimulate my throbbing head, and I thought I might explode too early, ending the experience right there.

Luckily, the clip began suddenly and the air was filled with the sounds of both soft, continuous moaning, and slightly faster, huffing moans as the second selection of muscle-porn came on, and Sarah's eyes immediately darted from mine to turn her head to the screen, quickly proceeding to take me into her mouth completely, her tongue performing acrobatics as both Yvette Bova and now Lynn McCrossin filled the large screen. Both were oiled and gloriously naked, their large, jiggling muscletits pointing nearly straight out in the air, as they worked themselves over with large rubber dildos, their unnaturally muscular arms pumping with pistoning muscles and splashed with veins in their dual orgasm-producing workouts.

[derekr]

Pt 2

"Why do you like that one so much, David? Is it because she's so muscular, or is it because she's black?" Sarah asked, momentarily leaving my dangerously aroused unit alone in her curiosity. Surprised by her intense interest in the workings of my muscle fetish, I laughed a little bit. This seemed to be going extraordinarily well do far, so I decided to tell her the absolute truth.

"No, Sarah, it's because she does porn, lesbian and straight, and she happens to be built like a brick shithouse," I told her, looking her right in the eye as I did. A loud series of gutteral grunts exploded from the speaker, as the barrel-thick Yvonne was ravaging Lynne from behind with a strap-on that was frighteningly big, and purple to boot. "There's not too much muscle-girl porn out there, it's a smaller fetish,"

"I like it - those girls are so big and strong, its' amazing," she quipped as she grabbed my shaft, slowly jacking me off as she simultaneously stimulated me with her wet mouth and tongue. "And I like what you like, love, so I like massive, muscular female bodybuilders," she said quickly and softly, her eyes riveted to the big screen, where now Lynn McCrossin was getting plowed sideways by an ambitious young man - her strangely girlish moans and groans of delight seemed almost involuntary, her hands cupping the bottoms of her balloonish fake tits as her colossal body was being moved by nearly a foot at a time by the pornstar's valiant efforts. I jumped a bit as Sarah continued pleasuring me like a pro herself, noticing with no small amount of wonder that beyond the bodybuilder's giant, out of place breasts, absolutely nothing on her solidly built, almost mannishly muscular body jiggled an inch.

My hands were now intertwined in Sarah's long brown hair as I unconsciously bobbed her head up and down in time with Yvette's new, pounding rhythm as she muscle-fucked yet another young stud, laid out on a bed while the huge Amazon hit obscenely body-bloating muscle poses at the same time she was grinding her pelvis with incredible force into him, making the bed creak loudly over the speakers to punctuate her grunts of satisfaction. Sarah's expert mouth and tongue continued to pleasure me, while she was making cute, small moans as the picture changed to a massive, oiled Yvette, on all fours, her thick, protruding stomach ballooning and receding with her quick breathing as this same man now pounded her relentlessly from behind, seemingly giving it his ultimate all, nearly hate-fucking the unnaturally developed young woman.

"Mmmmm...." Sarah licked her lips, slowing her stroking of me as she watched the television like she in a trance. Yet another man had joined the fray and was now fucking the nubian goddess's mouth, her sucking power evident by the way her strong jaw muscles clenched and unclenched, bulging insanely from her otherwise feminine, made up face. "You should do me like that, give me your big cock, put it right inside of me," she practically begged in a husky whisper, brown doe-eyes looking into mine hopefully.

"All right," I said, breathing hard and still not wholly convinced that this unbelievably perfect meshing of muscle and sex with my girlfriend was really happenning, and stood up from the couch. Grabbing the controller, I started the next clip I had with one slightly shaking hand, and pushed Sarah down onto the coffee table with the other. She anxiously, quickly undid her jeans, breathing quite heavily herself, dropping both the denims and her thong underwear in one motion, eager to get her own fulfillment under way. The sounds of clanging metal filled the air in the room as the new clip began, and my newly femuscle loving girlfriend was laying across the coffee table, head up to be able to watch the continuing show of egregious, bulging female muscles, veins, sweat, and sinew.

Sarah was bent over at the waist like a cat in heat, her ass pointed up in the air, waiting for the insertion that was imminent. Both of our eyes were locked in on the 52" television across the room - on it, Britt Miller, lip bitten and face somewhat twisted with her effort, was forcing out another tortuous repetition of a heavily loaded barbell, her outrageously muscled arms swelling with rocky biceps and thick, corded veins as she willed her body bigger still in a tight, muscle-curve hugging pink halter top. Her hair was tousled, sweat ran down the crevace of her thick pectorals, and I don't think I've ever been as hard as I was at that moment in my entire life. Unable to wait any longer, I slid the shaft of my iron, quivering manhood into my girlfirend's waiting, wet and warm sheath. With a sigh and small grunt of satisfaction as I buried myself all the way in, Sarah gripped the table as I slowly began to rock my hips, moving only slightly inside her as I was a bit afraid of how long I would be able to keep this up without exploding.

"Is that what you want, sweetheart? Is that what you want me to look like? My body all covered with big, ....unnnh..... hard muscles?" my girlfriend teased and taunted, gripping the far edge of the coffee table tightly while watching the young, muscle-packed female bodybuilder continue to pump up as she herself was getting pumped. Sarah arched her back further still, allowing for a more penetrating angle from me and a slightly flatter stomach for herself as I viciously did her doggy-style, thrusting with purpose as we both watched raptly, eyes wide as our first-ever muscle-sex session continued.

"I'll go to the gym, start pumping iron every day, til I get some huge, bulging muscles myself, since that's what you like!" she commented, her voice hiccupping cutely as I reached the apex of each long thrust. Sarah then gasped a bit, whispering "Jesus!" as on huge display in front of us Britt had just finished the last curl of her set, her vein covered, bloated biceps and shoulders startling in their pumped, shredded detail, agony evident in her face, her cute brow furrowed, cheeks blown out completely and her surprisingly and somewhat disturbingly developed jaw muscles in full display as she dropped the heavy barbell to the floor with a clang.

"I think I DO need to get steroids," she continued matter-of-factly, moaning sweetly as I hit a especially sensitive spot with my self-surprisingly large, throbbing member. Britt Miller turned to face us on the widescreen and hit a gratuitous, horribly meat-injecting double-bicep pose. My fucking motions doubled in speed as the muscle-girl's arms expanded to their limits, a smile on her weary face after an intense set of heavy curls. Sarah panted a bit at the abrupt change of tempo, and quite possibly the massive double biceps pose performed by the sexy young musclegirl feet from our faces, larger than life.

I looked down to Sarah, her slightly oversized and rounded ass jiggling with the fierce pounding I was delivering, and saw with lessening surprise she was enjoying the show as much as I was, or at least doing a terrific job of acting in making me think so. Her eyes were wide open and glued to the television as Britt performed a massive latspread, her halter top tightening up around her melon-sized, swollen, blocky pecs as her cobra-hood lats spread out and up.

You could see the effort in Britt's face as the young bodybuilder flexed to her max, her upper body looking like a linebacker's in full pads in its extremity, lats spread like a wings, her halter stretched thin as tissue paper across her blood-engorged pecs and ripped, cobblestone six-pack of abs. I consciously had to slow down to enjoy more of this - the combination of sex with Sarah while watching my fantasy - musclebound, shredded female bodybuilders pumping themselves up relentlessly, throwing around hundreds of pounds of weight in a session - was the most sexually gratifying experience I had ever had.

"If I'm going to get as big as her, I'm gonna need lots of them! Is that how big you want me, love? With big, bulging, muscle tits, and a six pack? Mmmmpppph..... or an eight pack?" she looked back momentarily, and saw my eyes locked in on the screen as the young mountain of female muscle smiled sultrily and performed a volcanic sidechest pose that made her squared muscletits rocket upwards, settling under her chin. The combination of Sarah's ultimately sexy muscle talk and Britt's simultaneous muscular explosion excited me to the point where I brought my open palm down hard on her exposed buttcheek, a loud slap punctuating the air.

"Oooohh!" she cooed in delight, looking back to the television and the close-upped view of concrete slabs of biceps meat, divided by a thick and disseminating network of veins atop sweat-shined, girth-stretched bronze skin. "Next time you smack my ass, it won't jiggle, David," she continued, flexing her butt hard in anticipation of the glutes she was already developing in her mind, "Next time it's going to be solid, hard, meat," she breathed slowly. "I'm going to get jacked, all for you, do whatever it takes to get as big as her - big, muscular, and powerful!"

Lost in the extremely erotic moment, I let it slip out. "There's bigger." There, I'd done it. My female muscle fetish was already out of the bag, and THAT had worked out extremely well for our sexual relationship, at the very least.

"Bigger than her?!" Sarah's head whipped around, mid-thrust, to stare at me. "Really, David? Bigger than her?!" she repeated in an incredulous and somewhat defeated voice. I swore to myself I could hear excitement in my girlfriend's voice as well, and used it for self-justification for my next action. Pausing for a second in my movements towards her, I again picked up the PS3 controller and with a few deft pushes of my fingers, found the hidden folder containing yet more video clips, ones I had intended for another occasion altogether, preferrably when I was alone.

[ImperatrixRattus]

Love TheSabre's stuff.  Look forward to the rest, iirc this one it gets so over the edge.

[derekr]

Pt 3

I pressed the controller button, and the video started. On the screen, life-size, Klaudia Larsen stood, veins bulging all over her like mutant worms, in a skin-tight, overtly tiny pink bikini top. Klaudia was definitely the most defined, cut-up girl I had shown Sarah yet - her large muscles looked ready to tear through her tissue-paper thin, bronzed skin, popping from her smallish joints aggressively, covered with ropy veins and arteries. It was extreme, but I wasn't too worried, she seemed to be really enjoying herself throughout the whole introduction to female muscle experience.

"Maybe that's what I'll look like, David," she purred, back arched, as Klaudia Larsen hit a vein-popping, chest-bloating most-muscular pose on the widescreen, her pink bikini top going from noticeably flat to the cups being stretched to their limits, barely covering the expanding, striated mounds of pec muscle that quivered and bulged on her ribcage like animals trying to escape.

"THAT'S what I want to ... OOOhhhhh... look like, nothing but big, rippling muscles all over me, no tits to speak of, just stony, hard, girlie-meat. Would you like that David? To run your hands down my thick, iron chest, and grab my big, muscle stuffed breasts, and ... Ooooohhhh.....try to make them move?" Sarah toyed with me, teasing with her muscle talk as I continued to thrust from behind her in a steady, machine-like way.

"They won't you know - I'll be way too strong by then, all big, pumped muscles, just the way you want it!" she giggled, looking back lovingly at me, then immediately returning her eyes to the veiny, bulging bodybuilder on the television.

I was now nearly frothing at the mouth now at the combination of bulging, concrete femuscle posed on display in near-life size, and Sarah's encouraging words and her welcoming, warm and wet sex forcing me into a state of hardness and size I previously didn't think was possible. I had reached a fast, pounding rhythm that was making Sarah make noises I hadn't ever heard her utter, powerful sex fueled by bloated, veiny, massive female muscles.

"Oh God," I moaned , closing my eyes and blocking out Klaudia's cut, grapefruit sized bicep to try to maintain control, wanting to make this last as long as possible for Sarah, to make it as good as possible for her. On one hand I was truly grateful to my girlfriend for her complete acceptance, and participation in, my years old fetish - yet on the other hand, I wasn't sure if her talk was simply 'talking dirty', or if she truly was going to go through with her promises, filling her body with muscles to rival the biggest of female bodybuilders, all to become my muscle-girl fantasy brought to life. I certainly hoped for the second option, but didn't know for sure - Sarah sure acted like she was enjoying this. I forced myself ot think of baseball, fat women, golf, anything but the sensations of Sarah and bloated muscular girls.

Klaudia Larsen, a wide smile on her face, had finished posing her mind-blowingly shredded, vein-covered upper body, and the screen faded to black. After a second's pause that allowed me to stop our muscle-sex momentarily and provide a moment of reprieve for my throbbing manhood, the television screen was filled with light and the biggest of the female bodybuilders I had yet dared show Sarah.

My eyes glazed over as Conny Brandt filled the entire big screen, clad in a red string bikini that appeared miniscule against the backdrop of her huge, mannishly built, muscle-popping physique. She was truly a gender-bender, a sideshow freak, with a cute, feminine face, long curly hair, and smallish breasts that filled oyut the bikini cups nicely enough. Her femininity stopped with those three characteristics - under her chin was a body that looked like a powerlifter crossed with a steroid-abusing professional linebacker.

"Holy FUCK, David," Sarah whispered, a bit of fear evident in her voice. "That can't be real, .... can it?" she continued, disbelieving what her eyes were showing her as Conny performed a revoltingly body-inflating double biceps pose, her already ridiculously bulbous arms going from insane to unreal with her flex - thick, sausage like veins popped out all along her thick arms, and her broad chest pumped, bobbing once, and visibly thickened with muscle as her pectoral muscles popped by inches and her cobblestoned abdominals erupted into prominence on her waist, which looked way too small in proportion with her mammoth, gratuitously bullish upper body.

My pace quickened inside Sarah, it was impossible for me to control, with the nearly two hundred pounds of jacked, juiced, pumped up female muscle on frank display in front of me. Sarah obviously noticed my newfound excitement with the muscle-beast, moaning a bit herself with each long, energetic thrust and starting to pant like a dog as we watched this female freak of nature perform an light-eclipsing latspread, huge wings of bulging muscles filling the already miniscule free space between her titantic arms and tight, bugling torso.

"You don't want me that big, do you, David?" she almost pleaded, looking back to me with wide eyes and her mouth still slightly agape in astonishment. "That's too MUCH, David, holy shit she's so MUSCULAR, do you?" she asked haltingly between girlish grunts as I buried myself deeper still inside of her as the young German muscle-queen turned to the side, showcasing the extreme width difference between her washboard-abbed, tiny waist and huge upper arms that eclipsed her head by nearly a half a foot. As the gigantic mound of meat hit an obscenely body-bloating sidechest pose, making her muscle-tits jiggle and swell, I could feel the begginnings of that tingling feeling from deep within my groin that let me know it was coming. I knew that to say anything right now would be gibberish, so I just kept going, my mouth open slightly.

My pace doubled again as Conny completed a titantic most muscular pose, her body ballooning with hard, impossible, rock-hard meat. I was frantically muscle-fucking my girlfriend as my eyes were glued to the young bodybuilder, whose body was massive, stuffed with unnatural muscles everywhere to the point that you had to constantly look at her face to remind yourself that she was in fact a girl. Sarah began a long, continuous wail as I was obviously brining her to a titantic orgasm as well.

"OOOOOOOooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh ..... " my girlfriend keened, ass in the air and jiggling as I pounded her relentlessly. A curling in of Conny's armor plated, swollen drumhead stomach was the last straw, and with a long grunt, I finally released, pumping off inside of Sarah for what seemed like minutes. She continued to moan erotically as I emptied inside her, her hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably as she was literally face down on the coffee table, her arms having gone limp with the tremendous power of her own orgasm. Finally, legs burning, I pulled myself out of her, shaking, and collapsed to the sofa, exhausted and covered with a light sheen of sweat. The image on the screen faded out slowly, still showing Conny's massive, hulking form holding her crunch with a beaming, wide smile on her face.

[jstans]

I miss © Saradas. O r g so much just because of this story. And because of the Mr. Shhh stories.

[derekr]

Pt 4

Sarah joined a gym the very first thing the next day, getting up much earlier than I after the exhausting night of sex we had, and whispered softly in my ear.

"It starts today, David, today I start building the biggest, most muscular body you have ever seen on a girl," she said confidently, kissed my ear, and left. I spent the morning alone in our apartment, trying to figure out if it had just been a dream or if I had correctly heard my girlfriend early that morning, before dawn.

Sarah called later that afternoon to ask if she could bring a new friend over to the apartment. Having the day off of work, I had basically done nothing, kind of wandering around the apartment in a daze, reliving the prior night over and over again in my head. I told her to give me a few minutes to shower and do a quick pickup around the place, and it wouldn't be a problem at all.

"I can't wait until you meet Breanna," she giggled into the phone. "I think you'll like her, she's just what I've been looking for all day," Sarah finished almost teasingly, and hung up on that odd and cryptic note.

I had never had the lucky experience of seeing a female bodybuilder close up, face to face, just the occasional far-distanced glimpse of a striated shoulder or beefy looking calf muscle. Real female bodybuilders were hard to find, being an exotic rare find amongst the masses of 'normal' people. I achieved another first that evening when Sarah brought over her new friend, Breanna.

She was simply huge in person. I have seen many a female physique on computer screens and televisions, but the real thing was different to the point of being completely staggering. I was sitting watching television, in the same place as the previous night's festivities, when I heard the front door being opened, and heard both Sarah's and another girl's voice as they walked down the short hallway to the living room. Sarah walked in first, a large bag over her shoulder, and said, "David, this is Breanna, a girl I met from the gym I joined this morning," and Breanna rounded the corner.

Breanna was about 5'4", a few inches shorter than my girlfriend, but what she lacked in height, she definitely overcompensated in shocking girth. She had on a black Nike top, skin tight like a layer of saran wrap on her thick frame, causing the hem of the body-hugging fabric to be short by a few inches from the top of her meat-stuffed black spandex pants, which in turn revealed protruding, solidly muscular abdominal muscles. Her thick arms were angled out to the side slightly, followed and capped by wide wings of back muscle and smallish, squared-off breasts underneath. All of this inverted-v-shaped, beefcake physique culminated in a surprisingly feminine neck, if one ignored the irregular swells of her thick traps on either side of it. It was actually fairly easy to do because your eyes were instantly drawn to her beautiful young face, void of makeup and gorgeous, surrounded by mid length auburn hair that naturally curled into corkscrews to frame her sapphire blue eyes, small button nose, and delicate cheekbones.

"So you're the schmoe," she said in a breathy, what I found to be incredibly sexy voice, and giggled. I immediately turned red in the face, wondering how much of my obsession Sarah had gone into with the hulking, blown-out young girl.

"Hahaha be nice Bree, I want this too, you know," Sarah soothed, dropping a sly wink to me as she said it, a wide smile on her pretty face.

"Or the muscle-head then, that's not so bad, is it David? I'm Breanna," she continued, extending her hand, which in turn caused a muscle mountain to erupt atop her broad shoulder in the confines of her longsleeved top. I stood up from the sofa, looking down to her, and took the small hand in mine, startled only slightly and a bit stupidly at the strength in her simple handshake. "My friends call me Bree," she said, looking me up and down quickly as she dropped the handshake and turned back again to Sarah.

"Sarah tells me she wants to get big, and fast," Bree noted in an almost offhand, medical way as she took the large gym bag off of Sarah's shoulder effortlessly, set it on the coffee table, and unizpped it. The inside was lined with plastic containers that were filled with a blue liquid and showed a shimmer of condensation around the edges.

"This stuff will make it happen, but it's not exactly legal, and it's not exactly cheap," she went on in her salesman speech, "Vials go for about $300, and that should last about a week," she continued, and pulled out a vial and syringe. "Sarah will cycle on for three weeks, take off two, and then go back on," Breanna smiled, pulling a full pull's worth of the clear, indistinguishable liquid into the syringe. I briefly and worriedly looked at Sarah, who was transfixed on the syringe, and decided this was going way too fast.

"Whoa, whoa, now hold up a second here, Bree, Sarah, we don't even know what that shit is!" I exclaimed. "I mean, it could be dirty, it could be fake, I mean ... " I ended up trailing off with sheer surprise on my face as both the girls laughed in near unison at my outburst, looking at each other and then bursting into giggles again.

"It's clean and obviously real, David, I mean, look at me," Bree quipped, turning all the way around, showcasing her bulging back, granite glutes, and beef-injected hamstrings and calves as she spun. "I'm nineteen, how do you think I got this big? Just training hard? Ppphhh," she struck out her pink tongue to accentuate her disdain. Her sculpted physique was big, thick with pumped up muscles, which made sense as they had come back from the gym. She was not ripped, like for a competition, but full and softer, as I assumed she was in a bulking-up phase. Her solidly built body reminded me a lot of Aimee Molleman, a robust young bodybuilder I had become familiar with over the years.

"This stuff is prime, experimental, totally clean growth hormone, it'll blow your little girlfriend Sarah here up like an amateur champion in no time," the nubile bodybuilder giggled, and in a more serious tone, "Look I've been injecting this stuff for a year solid, and there's no side effects - listen to my voice, normal, right?" I nodded, slowly, in agreeance - her voice was perfectly girlish, even had a somewhat high tone to it. "Look at my face - no acne, marks, nothing," she continued, and it was true - there was not a mark to be seen on her near perfect face.

Bree grabbed the bottom hem of her taxed, tight top, and pulled it up, simultaneously curling in to produce pool-ball racked, deeply cut abdominals. My eyes widened at her outrageous stomach, inches away, amazingly muscular, and real. "No hair on my stomach, chest, neck, none of that sick bullshit. Go ahead, feel it," Bree implored, and with a quick, wanting look to Sarah for approval, laid my hand as flat as possible on her ridged stomach, feeling the bulges of her pebbled abdominal wall with barely concealed delight, her warm, smooth skin tight around the swollen platelets but clear of any hair whatsoever. If she shaved, I couldn't tell, as they were no marks or nicks at all on her entire visible torso.

"The only thing I've ever noticed is increased - um, sexual appetite," Bree finished the last bit of the statement uncomfortably, disappointingly pulling her top back down over her muscular stomach. I had to glance down for a moment to make sure my ever-increasing erection wasn't blatantly obvious. Thank God for jeans in the unlikely event of an unexpected visit from a young female bodybuilder. "And I don't think that'll be a problem for you at all once she starts to bulk up a little, puts on a little size," the young muscle-queen ended with a smirk and a sly wink.

"Well, even if it is safe, how much is that shit, what," my words were fumbling, a mixture of excitement and a real concern about the money fighting each other inside my head. I did some quick math and blurted, "That's gonna be almost a thousand a month! That's a lot of money, Sarah ..." I tried desperately, in a way trying to convince myself against my ever increasing arousal at both the bulging bodybuilder Bree and the increasingly invasive thoughts of how Sarah would look with muscles all over her body.

"How badly do you want me to be muscular, David? What's the price tag?" Sarah cooed, and began to run her hands lightly over Bree's tight, unflexed yet still tremendously bulging physique. Bree smiled at me, and went into a double biceps pose - her arms inflated, stretching the black top out instantly with a small grunt of satisfaction emanating from the young muscle-girl.

"How about if I were Bree's size, baby, would you like that?" Sarah continued, cupping Bree's flexed, immense biceps in her hands and then running her fingers down the fat vein visible even through her top that capped the peak of her large, round globes of beef. "Don't you want me to be huge, ripped and muscular, David? I WANT muscles, David, and I know you want me to have them," she continued, breathing a bit quicker now as she felt her way around Bree's horseshoe, bloated triceps and up to the prominent bulges of her linebacker-built deltoids. Sarah's tiny hands found the mountains of traps above Bree's melons of deltoids, and began to knead them slowly and surely.

"I want to be as big as Bree, David - No, bigger! Muscles DO feel soooo good, David, and I want them, you're absolutely right, you've been so right all the time," she almost pleaded, while her hands roamed the insertions of Bree's beefy, angular pecs, clearly visible as the nineteen year old Amazon flexed hard in response to my adoring girlfriend's soft, roaming touch. Bree's young face belied nothing, thick-lashed eyes drawn tightly closed, sweet husky breathing coming from slightly parted, glossy lips.

"I told Bree how amazing you were when we were watching those videos, David," Sarah said, and an annoying, familiar whine entered her voice as her hands reached the bottom hem of Bree's skin-tight, physique-exhibiting, forcibly streched top. It was definitely the voice Sarah used on me when she wanted something - badly.

"How big you got, how long you lasted, how phenomenal muscle-sex was," she contniued, nearly purring, knowing she had my hooked, even as she grabbed the hem of Bree's shirt and started lifting. Row after row of tight, formed-stone abdominal cubes were revealed to me as Sarah slowly disrobed the young physique phenomenon.

Bree obliged Sarah by raising her thick arms above her head as my girlfriend peeled the resisting top over the mounds of her robust pecs, revealing a frilly white lace bra tight against her breastless, striated, six inch-thick chest muscles. Finally, with a bit of increased pulling, and an audible pop, Sarah had the top completely off of the young musclegirl, and her entire upper body was revealed in all it's glory, from brickwork abs to her pumped, cubical chest, to her thick traps and finally her cannons of arms, bulging swells of muscles mashed together fighting for the limited space available underneath her skin. Bree's cute curls bobbed when Sarah pulled the top over her head, and came to rest on her thick traps. It was like last night all over again, I was blatantly, fully erect with no chance of hiding it, except this time the female muscles were inches from my face, being caressed by my girlfriend, and not on a television monitor.

"Bree's going to train me, and she obviously knows what she's doing," Sarah whined, her doe eyes pleading with mine as her hands were around Bree's thick neck, rubbing where a normal girl's collarbone would be - on the young bodybuilder, however, no collarbone was visible, just the odd, thick bulge of the beginning of her awesome, rigid pectoral muscles. Bree breathed in sharply at the contact, unaware of Sarah's intentions until my girlfriend's small hands rubbed the very top of her meaty breasts.

"Don't you want me to look like her, David? Muscular, strong, just filled up with big, bulging muscles like Bree has? I think you do," Sarah whispered knowingly, glancing at my bulging crotch while getting on her knees behind the pumped, bulging teen, and ran her hands from the hem of Bree's waistband up her bubbling stomach, cupping and tracing each individual brick of abdominal muscle that formed the amazing six pack Bree proudly sported.

Bree, her eyes half-lidded, smiled as Sarah gleefully explored her morhping, waffled midsection, my girlfriend's hand looking small and insignificant amongst the nineteen year old's startling, wide and thickly developed stomach. Bree crunched down, clearly enjoying both her muscle exhibition and Sarah's worshipful touch, and my girlfriend gasped as her finger nearly got trapped between two wedges of immovable, concrete she-meat. I looked down and gasped myself as I watched two thick veins snake out of Bree's frilly, thin panties to slowly crawl up the distended wall of her ridged abdominal column.

"I pwomise I'll work out weal hawd," Sarah cooed, a hand discreetly brushing by her own womanhood as she placed both hands on Bree's wasp-thin waist, her hipbones showing clearly under the odd surges of muscle that was the beginnings of her obliques. She was using yet another weapon by switching to 'little-girl' talk, which was usually reserved for the bedroom alone.

"Get weal, weal big, and come home and pump up my massive, hawd muscles just for you, David," she continued maddeningly, at the same time now removing Bree's body-hugging stretchpants, revealing inch by inch her powerful, musclebound thighs and a tiny looking, straining pair of white lace panties. I nearly came right there in my pants as Sarah continued to peel the painted-on fabric from Bree's bloated lower body, getting stuck for a minute at her unnaturally meat-injected calves, which were nearly the girth of her upper thighs with deep cuts at the diamond-shaped insertions of the muscle itself. With a quick shuffling of feet, Sarah had the teenaged bodybuilder completely disrobed, save the tiny matching lace lingerie set painted on her tremendous, muscle-stuffed body.

Slowly, surely, Bree bent over, putting her hands on the edge of the coffee table in an eerily similar way that Sarah had the night before so she could continue to watch the muscular female bodybuilders flexing and pumping their bulging, sweaty bodies on the screen. As her weight shifted her amazing arms bulged, first cannon delts swelling, then horsehose triceps flexing, turning to stone proudly, corded muscles even popped out on her thick forearms as she supported her impressive bulk against the table. My eyes were helplessly drawn to her thick, muscled glutes, separated by the tight, small lace thong her panties became in the rear. One small string of lace separated the strange yet exciting bulges of her ass muscles.

"David, you want to inject right before and right after a workout," Bree purred, flexing her glutes the very slightest yet creating a surge of muscle that made her thong shake visibly, her globes of ass muscle jumping and swelling maddeningly. Sarah rested her hand on Bree's ass, gripping a bit as if to prove to herself it was really as dense and hard as it looked. In her other hand she held the syringe, picked up from the table at some point while I was completely engrossed in Bree's bursting, muscular young physique.

"And you want to inject on the inside of a cheek, so it isn't blatantly obvious you're juicing," Bree continued, again slipping into the almost doctor-speak from earlier. She then took one hand and grabbed the tiny thong string, pulling it upwards with one massive arm, forcing it further inside her muscular crevice. Sarah, her eyes fully open and staring at the young bodybuilder's muscular glutes, shifted her hand and slid it into the indented crack between them, trying to pry them apart, to no avail. There was simply no give in Bree's thickly muscled rear end.

"Bree, loosen up, I can't get in there," Sarah giggled, and the mountains of the teen's glutes receded a bit when she closed her eyes and concentrated on it. Sarah pulled at the tight hunk of meat again, and was able to expose her target. Carefully, yet somewhat quickly, she buried the syringe in the bulge of ass-meat, depressed the syringe, and injected Bree with fifteen milliliters of growth hormone. Bree released her grip on her thong which returned to her muscular ass with a snap, and returned her hand to the table, head down as her body trembled slightly, her mass becoming engorged with blood as she tightened every muscle in her compact, bulging body.

"It only burns for a minute," Sarah explained, looking at me with a strange half smile on her face as Bree moaned slightly, her lip bitten by brilliantly white teeth. "It hurts pretty bad, but it's over like in an instant," she finished knowingly and looked down to Bree, head still down but her body was returning to it's normal state of unflexed muscular nirvana.

"How ... how would you know?" I asked, knowing the answer before I even finished the question. "You've already done this, Sarah?" I finished, confused, my mind going both ways on her inevitable answer. "You're sure? You really want muscles, Sarah?" I asked, amazed that she was willing to go through the supreme effort, drug-aided or not, of transforming her normal body into that of a ripped, bulging Amazon, and all to satisfy my want for female muscles.

"I've never been so sure of anything, David," she whispered, running her hands over Bree's thick glutes and circling her musclebound waist with her hands, feeling Bree's concrete stomach bubbles from underneath. "I'm going to get jacked, filled with big, powerful muscles, and all for you," she finished, and blew me a kiss as she ran her hands over the nineteen year old muscle goddess' warm corrugated steel.

[derekr]

Pt 5

My checking account could barely keep up with Sarah's newfound, nearing manic obsession, but it was surely some of the best money I have ever spent in my life. I truly didn't know who lusted after female muscles more now, me or my bodybuilding girlfriend. She had taken to everything involved with her new muscle-growing lifestyle, like a fish to water, and not only trained hard five days a week but ate like a professional athlete, nothing but protein of some sort, steamed or boiled, and vegetables. The refrigerator was always full of Muscle Milk and premixed containers of protein shakes, both of which Sarah drank like water. Four to five different barrels of supplements were constantly breing drained and refilled. And the growth hormone, of course. All things said and done, it cost almost $450 a week to cater to her dreams of becoming a born-again muscle-girl. My initial protest to the enormous purchases of powders, pills, and food was met with a quick but firm grab of my crotch, and a soft whispered reminder of how big she was going to get, how massive, veiny and muscular, and that was worth it, wasn't it?

Sarah got up daily at dawn now, made a quick breakfast of egg whites and a piece of steak, topped this off with two Muscle Milks and a full container of vanilla-flavored protein shake, and was off to pump some seriously heavy iron. Sarah would walk, jog, and eventually run the three miles to the gym, Bree would meet her there, and put my girlfriend through grueling, gut-wrenching workouts, which Sarah would come home and tell me about, excited yet clearly exhausted. For the first few days, she would come home in the late afternoon, legs shaking, dried tear tracks on her face and drenched in sweat, and would barely be able to move from the extreme workouts her young bodybuilder trainer was subjecting her to.

In the first week alone you could already tell an extreme difference, as the cardio was burning the small pockets of fat she did carry - Sarah's stomach looked flat as a board, her arms looked toned and tight in her longsleeve tops, even her face looked less full, her cheekbones defined and her chin angular and tight. I say 'looked' because she always wore bulky clothing, sweatshirts and sweatpants to the gym, which made sense because it was a winter in the Midwest - however, I wasn't allowed to see her naked, even sex was in the dark, because she wanted everything to be perfect once her 'body was ready'. During these fairly rare impromptu sex sessions (she was always at the gym!) I would rest my hand on her newly flat, solid stomach, or grab an increasingly powerful-feeling thigh or buttcheek every once in a while to check up on her hormone-fed development. She felt solid and firm, but her legs had always been her best feature as she had ridden horses for years, and she would quickly squirm out of my grip, admonishing me sternly but always with some laughter as I vainly tried to feel out her muscular development.

Bree took care of all her injections, and was over to the apartment about once a week to refill the seemingly never-enough supply of super growth hormone. There was never a muscle show to even come close to comapring with the first time I'd met her, but you could tell she was growing ever bigger still herself, from her overall impressive gain in size from when we first met as well as the occasional glimpse of hard, bulging female meat and tanned, tight flesh. Bree used no extra clothing to cover up her increasing development like Sarah did, in fact she seemed to enjoy the outright looks of shock and awe she saw on 'normal' people's faces when they witnessed her bulging, muscular young body forcibly packed into taxed halter and bikini tops and quad-hugging stretch pants. I always would end up leaving the room at some point to hide, and sometimes deal with, my raging muscle-induced erection from Bree, so as not to make Sarah feel any more self-conscious about her body.

After three months and over $5000, I waited around one day in the apartment, waiting for Sarah to get back from the gym so we could have a talk. At this point I was behind on all my bills, and was looking at picking up a second-shift job, just to be able to support the both of us. I wanted to see some results from all of the money I had dumped in - either I was going to see some muscles, or the money-train would have to stop for my aspiring bodybuilder girlfriend, as much as the thought disappointed me greatly.

She arrived home from the gym, her cute face flushed and ponytail in her long mahogany hair, at around 5:00 PM. "I thought you had to work tonight, David," she commented nonchalantly between gulps of a freshly grabbed Muscle Milk from the refrigerator.

"No, we aren't as busy as we thought, so I got the night off," I started, looking at her in her sweatsuit as she moved nimbly around the kitchen, tossing out the first Muscle Milk and immediately cracking open a second. She had to stand on tip-toes to get to the supplememnts abopve the refrigerator, and I swore I saw a bulge in her calves swell as she did so - probably just wishful thinking. A fistful of various pills went into Sarah's mouth, followed by the rest of the Muscle Milk, which she swallowed greedily.

"Well, that's nice to have a night off, sweetheart," she said, and went to the trashcan again, dropping the empty bottle in as I watched carefully. The baggy sweatpants and frumpy hoodie she wore betrayed nothing - my girlfriend could potentially be cut, hard, and thick with bulging new muscles, and I wouldn't be able to tell at all unless she wanted me to. It drove me insane on a daily basis, knowing she was metamorphizing her body yet getting none of the beneifts.

"I've got to see something, Sarah," I blurted out, abruptly, from the couch as she approached. "I'm nearly broke, I might have to get a second job, and I've got to see some muscles, some results from all this," I ended almost begging her, a split look of angst and hope on my face as I plead with Sarah to show me the strength, size, and definition that this much money's worth of 'juice', supplements, and protein shakes should have produced.

"David," she began cautiously, pausing, and I had the feeling I was going to be rebuffed. Again. Sarah sat on the far end of the sofa, maddeningly just out of my reach, sitting Indain style in her baggy sweatsuit. "I'm not anywhere near as big as we want me to be," she explained, her eyes locked with mine as she shook her head.

"Shit, Sarah, I see more of Bree's body than my own girlfriend's, and that's bullshit!" I exclaimed, irritated that my demand was being dismissed so easily. "I've gotta see that my money's going to SOMETHING! Anything!"

"That's what this is about, isn't it? You like Bree, don't you! You want to see some more of HER muscles!" Sarah started, the beginnings of tears in her wide eyes, and I knew a monster argument was about to go down.

"No, Sarah, I want to see YOUR muscles! I want to see your body being LIKE Bree's, not being her's!" I admonished her, frustrated that she was taking this the exactly wrong way.

"I've seen you get hard when she's over, David, I'm not stupid," she whispered, and the tears started to fall. "I've seen you go to the bathroom to whack off! I'm not as big and muscular as she is, and so I'm like second on the shelf," Sarah angrily pulled up on her sweatpants, and my eyes nearly bugged out of my skull at what she revealed to me. Her exposed calf was big, round, and bulging effortlessly evident inches from the diameter of her diminutive kneecap.

"There, does that make you happy, David?" she blurted, voice hitching slightly, "Not as good as Bree's, I'm afraid - I'm sure her calf is twice this size, cut up like a mountain's boulder, and covered with all sorts of big veins, isn't that what you'd rather see?" Sarah continued over-dramatically, tears freely falling down her cheeks, and I began to wonder if the growth hormone had the particular side-effect of self-delusion. I came to her side like a bullet, anxiously shuffling my knees to fit between the couch and coffee table, and placed both hands on her ballooned, meaty calf muscle, cradling it and cupping it's hot, tight bulge in my wanting hands.

"Sarah, are you crazy?!" I exclaimed, kneading the immovable meat in my hands like dough, feeling the spiderwebbing of her veins directly underneath her shiny skin. "Your calf is HUGE, Sarah, you've gotta be kidding me!" I tried in vain to circle my hands around her stone calf muscle, and Sarah's shaking sobbing slowly subsided.

"You mean you like it, David?" she sniffled, looking down to me as I continued to worship her exposed calf, feeling and filling my hands with every bulge and crevasse of her impressive lower leg. "Even though it's not as big as Bree's?" she finished plaintively, looking down at her calf, then back up to me. Sarah then flexed her calf hard, and my hands were forced back by even more inches as her impressive muscle solidifed, sliding slowly and quirkily up her lower leg as it simultaneously hardedned and expanded dramatically under my touch as I breathed in sharply at the feel of my girlfriend's now rock-hard, bloated calf.

"Of course I like it, baby," I soothed, massaging her granite calf with one hand and beginning to explore the meat above her small knee, which felt solid and rigid to the touch. I ran my hands up columns of unflexed muscle that made up impressively hard-feeling quads, and hooked my finger in the waistband of her sweatpants, trailing a lone finger along her distended, surprisingly developed, thick stomach, slowly running the same along the line of the beginning of her obliques and the twinned columns of her tight abs. She breathed in sharply at my unexpected, invasive touch, which only caused her abdominal muscles to tighten further, creating a four-pack of individual plates of muscle on my girlfriend's stony, bulging, unbearably sexy stomach.

"I know I can get bigger, David, if that's what you're worried about," Sarah said as I massaged her granite abs, knowing she had her angle already. "I want to be bigger than your wildest dreams, huge, muscular, and ripped to shreds, like that last girl from the video," she continued, a longing look on her face and a smile gracing her pink lips as I moved my hand up her shirt, revelling in her newfound tight, hard stomach and cupping the fatty endings of solid, cubical pectoral muscles through her lycra sports bra. She looked down to me, and finished in a near whisper, "I just need to keep throwing steel with Bree, getting my injections, and taking my pills, and I'll be the most muscular girl you've ever seen, David, I'll put those strong-women in the videos to shame with my new, massive, veiny, bulging body!"

"Let me feel your muscles, Sarah, please," I begged her, my breathing heavy and my manhood clearly and painfully erect. "I want to fill my hands with your hard, sexy, muscles," I pleaded, nearly drooling as I squeezed my hand into her muscle-cleavage, and finally my newly annointed bodybuilder girlfriend relented, allowing me to lift the hoodie off of her body, leaving her in sweatpants and a tight, small, pink sportsbra.

I breathed in sharply myself at the revealed physique my girlfriend now sported proudly. Her body tapered from her small, heavily muscled waist to surprisingly broad shoulders, capped with prominent, hard deltoids that were cut and defined, popping from the tops of her arms like a professional swimmer or gymnast's. Her pink Nike sportsbra (which I had bought, undoubtedly) bulged slightly in the back with the swells of her wide lats and bulged even more noticably in the front - Sarah had never been accused of being flat-chested, but the obvious support of her prominent, pumped-looking pectorals lifted her cardio-reduced breasts into rigid, blatant prominence, stretching the lycra across the mounds of muscle underneath.

Her biceps, unflexed, were slight mounds backed by thick, strong-looking swells of triceps in the rear of her arms, curving downward to her diminutive elbows, and only to be swollen out again by her beefy, almost Popeye-ish forearms. Her neck was thicker than I had remembered, and I could clearly see the bulges of her traps resisting and stretching against the two halter straps that went behind her corded neck to connect in the back. Her physique, which only months ago had been considered 'normal', now looked like Cindy Phillips in the offseason - robustly and thoroguhly muscled, with definition and even some vascularity evident due to the size of her muscles themselves and the strain they put on her stretched, taut skin.

"Do you like what you see, David?" Sarah continued in a whisper still, looking at me lovingly as I finally closed my dropped jaw with an audible clack of teeth making contact together. "Don't you want me to be bigger, baby?" she cooed, knowing by the look in my eye and the rigid tent in my pants that I wanted nothing else more. She ran her hand up her swollen stomach, pushing her taut skin against the backdrop of bubbled, stony meat, and continued to taunt me. "Don't you want me to be more muscular, sweetie, bigger, all swoll up with huge, strong girlie-muscles? All I need is for you to help me, and I'll be your beast, your ripped, bulging, little muscle-girl!"

"Yes, Sarah, of course I do," I fumbled the words, the combination of hearing her vivd descriptions of her own prospective development and greedily eyeing the newfound muscles on Sarah's impressive, half-clothed body making it hard to sound coherent.

"But like I said, I'm broke, and ....," my clumsy statement was cut short by her actions - my muscular girlfriend decided to turn it up a notch and presented me with a perfect, arm-swelling double biceps pose that nearly made my ejaculate spill right then and there. Her arms firmed up, like liquid steel, and an apple-sized bulge of biceps muscle appeared almost magically, metamorphosing atop her arms with her slightest effort while at the same time her muscle-tits jumped up nealry three inches on her chest, settling into stone, bloated firmness again as her flex was completed.

"Feel them, David, feel how thick, how strong they are," Sarah cooed, admiring her own wholly impressive biceps as my hands reached out seemingly of their own will and took the balls of her power in my hands. I could not get my hands all the way around the prodigious mounds, and any amount of squeezing would have been completely futile - Sarah was hard, thick, immovable. Finally getting to feel her impossible (well, as of months ago, anyway) development of muscles was an entirely new thing for me, and my mind was half-fried already from just looking at the incredibly sexy lightweight to middleweight bodybuilder's physique my girlfriend and my meager savings had achieved to date.

"Oh my God," I whispered, and a wide smile spread on Sarah's pretty face, knowing she had me mesmerized by her astounding, drug-fueled physical supremacy. She made her biceps pop underneath my hands, going from simply big to sharp, angular and hard under my palms with each twitching instant. I continued to squeeze them as she laid her trap.

"I know how we can afford it baby, Bree has a plan," she said in a sexy, ultimately controlling voice as I continued to run my hands over every available inch of muscle packed inch by groan and what I'm sure was scream-inducing inch into her arms. "See, Bree has clients in town that pay her to come by and pose, do a show for them. She's making so much on the side that she's been double-dosing the GH every week now, and she is getting HUGE! I don't know if I'll ever catch up! Anyway, these guys pay hundreds of dollars just to see her all oiled up in a bikini, and for a little more, maybe touch her massive guns as she pumps up and poses for them," she continued, eyeing me closely for a reaction.

I looked up sharply at her words, my eyebrow raised, and Sarah consequently curled her arms inwards, creating a physique-inflating most-muscular pose, and her traps swelled along with her thick, almost mannish chest, nearly doubling in size as she concentrated her flexing on her big pecs. Her upper body had thickened by inches, as her biceps and delts were still pumped from the previous tremendous flex. My eyes quickly dropped incontrollably back to view her insane development, and knowing I was properly sated, as I rubbed her solid, vulcanized pecs frantically through the tight, stretchy material of her top, she went on. Her nipples, hard and erect pointing almost downward on her tit, felt like bullets against my hands as I rubbed lovingly on her mammoth chest.

"And she thinks we could make double what she makes now if I were to come along, you know, hit a few poses with her, maybe do a little girl-on-girl muscle-worship, the guys and gals really seem to like that," Sarah finished, licking her lips a bit at the thought, subconsciously, or hopefully just enjoying the feeling of having her muscles worshipped as she talked about the subject. I was barely paying attention anyways, my entire mind and body focused on Sarah's physique, and she knew it.

"I'll tell you what, David, I'll just call little Bree over here tonight, and I we'll give you an idea of what we're talking about, you'll see, it's just easy money!" Sarah then hooked her hands on her hips, and performed a latspread to my wide-eyed delight. Her back swelled with muscles like batwings unfurling, her chest receding yet still bulging, and her shoulders and arms again swelling to the forefront as she flexed with obvious concentration on her face, her brow knitted and eyebrows drawn down. The slight showing of effort was incontrollably sexy, and my manhood jumped in my pants as she completed the huge flex with a smile. "The money that will make me into your dream, David, your own female muscle princess!"