Little Sister Is A Big Bully

[grbaclig]

I hope when Alison confronts Mom she and Rick together are no match for Mom.

Gonna have to disagree with you I would love to see the younger, sexier Allison also be stronger than the ripped mom!

I didn't expect this plot point to generate this much interest.  I'm afraid the resolution is going to disappoint everyone.   

[grbaclig]

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[pencil20]

I don't know what anyone else thinks, but I was definitely not disappointed. Mildly surprised, mostly. A very pleasant surprise though.

[phil123]

Now we are at the Mr. OLYMPIA CONTEST. Happy to read what happens there. Will she already win the light-weight class?

[Jeremy Lightning]

Oh my! I can't to see Kylie take over the Mr. Olympia contest, with her superior size and definition, but of course, those boobs that she has grown leaves no doubt in anyone's mind that this is a young lady, but one whose body is so incredibly big, ripped and strong that she can take down bodybuilders who've been training longer than she's been alive! I can't wait for the next chapter! k+!

[Jeremy Lightning]

Also, I love that she's going to take Rick to the contest, to show him up close and personal that she has become superior to Mr. Olympia. I hope that she will do the same at the World's Strongest Man too.

[grbaclig]

Part 2, Chapter 17

        A few hours later we were boarding a plane to Las Vegas.  Allison and I sat together in coach, but Kylie was flying first class, courtesy of one of her sponsors.  Allison spent most of the time in the airport watching videos on her phone, trying to get up to speed with the Mr. Olympia competition.  "This is so cool," she said, showing me a video of a huge guy with a braided hair and arms the size of volleyballs hitting a rear double biceps pose.  "These guys are huge.  Like super huge."
        "That guy's neck is the size of a canned ham," I said, pointing to the guy with the braids.
        "That's Ty Tate," Allison said.  "He's the reigning champion.  He's being a total dick about Kylie competing, though.  Here, check out this video."
        Allison pulled up another video of Ty Tate being interviewed.  "I'm not trying to be mean," he told the interviewer, "but I've seen the pictures of that little girl, and they are clearly photoshopped.  More importantly, this contest is for the biggest men in the world.  It's no place for little girls.  It's about grown man muscle, not 13 year old girl muscle.  I don't care if she is sick and dying."
        "What does he mean 'sick and dying'?" I wondered aloud.
        "As far as I can tell, Kylie had to tell the competition that she was terminally ill, and her dying wish was to compete in the contest," Allison said.  "They have all these stupid rules about age limits."
        "Those rules are to protect the sanctity of the event," I said.  "Kylie doesn't belong on the same stage as these guys.  She has 17 inch biceps at best, assuming that she wasn't lying about that."
        "She had 17 inch biceps like a month ago, Rick," Allison said.  "I'll bet she's gotten bigger."
        "How big could she have possibly gotten in a month?" I asked.  "She's lying to get into this contest, and that's just plain wrong.  I just hope her feelings don't get hurt too bad when she loses."
        I was lying about that.  I wanted nothing more than to see Kylie lose in public.  Ty Tate was right, the Mr. Olympia contest was no place for 13 year old girls, and Kylie was going to find out the hard way.  She had succeeded in lying her way into a competition that no 13 year old girl could ever possibly win, and I was going to enjoy every second of her failure.

        Kylie had a limousine waiting for her at the airport, but Allison and I had to take a cab to the hotel.  When we got to the hotel lobby, we were right behind Kylie, who had her earphones in as she waited to check in.  Allison tapped Kylie on the shoulder, and Kylie turned around with a look of anger on her face that was so intense that it could have curdled milk.  But when she saw that it was Allison who had touched her, her face returned to it's normal confident stillness, and even showed a trace of a smile.  "Oh hey Fleabites," she said, pausing the video player on her phone.  "What do you want?"
        "We haven't talked in a totally long time," Allison said.  "What have you been getting into?"
        "I've been getting into the Mr. Olympia contest," Kylie said dryly as she restarted the video app.  "Did you somehow manage to miss that?"
        Kylie turned away, but Allison tapped her again.  "What are you listening to?" she asked.
        Kylie held up the phone to show the video of the short Ty Tate interview that Allison and I had watched on the plane, set to loop over and over.  "Something I'm watching for motivation," she said.

        One of Kylie's sponsors had paid to get her the Presidential suite at the hotel, so we didn't see her at all until the next morning when we met in the lobby.  When I saw Kylie I almost died laughing. 
        Kylie had grown a few inches over the summer, and was probably 5'2" now.  But even though she was as tall as a grown woman, the clothes that she was wearing made her look like a child.  She was wearing a frilly pink apron dress that fell to her ankles, with a white long sleeved blouse.  The dress and blouse were were on the baggy side and cut like a tent, which made her look as fat as a sumo wrestler.  Further, she was wearing patent leather shoes, and her blonde hair was tied up in pigtails with pink ribbons.  No one who saw her in that ridiculous get up would guess that she had muscles like a world-class female bodybuilder.  "You look like a fat baby doll," I chuckled.
        "I know," Kylie said calmly, "that's the look I'm going for.  I had to pay a Hollywood costume designer $15,000 for this outfit, but it's worth every penny."
        Allison was startled.  "Why did you pay $15,000 for that dress?" she asked.  "I mean, it's nice and all, but you look like a fat prissy little girl."
        "I paid $15,000 for this dress because I wanted to look like a fat prissy little girl," Kylie said.
        "I mean sure," Allison said.  "But $15,000?"
        "It's not a normal dress," Kylie sighed impatiently.  "You'll understand in a few minutes."
        About then the other Mr. Olympia competitors rumbled down into the lobby.  They took one look at Kylie and broke out laughing, all of them except Ty Tate, who waddled up to her.  "Hey little girl," he said, his jowly face smiling.  "My name is Ty.  It's nice to meet you."
        "My name isn't 'little girl', it's Kylie O'Reilly," my kid sister said.  "And you better learn it."
        Ty looked confused by her curt answer.  "Hey listen," he said.  "I'm always happy to see young fans get excited about bodybuilding, but this is a special competition because only the biggest men in the world can participate.  Wouldn't you rather just hang out with us before and after the contest and get some tips on lifting?  Instead of disturbing the sanctity of the competition?"
        Kylie rolled her eyes.  "You're pathetic," she said as she walked toward her approaching limo.

        A few minutes later we were backstage at the Mr. Olympia contest.  Kylie checked in at the back table, and got a bag full of gifts and a tag with the number 13 on it.  The woman at the table was a beautiful redhead whose boobs nearly spilled out of her blouse as she leaned forward to talk to Kylie.  "I'm such a huge fan," she said.  "I was like the 3rd person to follow you on Insta.  That photo of your abs is my wallpaper.  And I want you to know that you're an inspiration to all women everywhere."
        "I know I am," Kylie said.  "But it's always nice to hear that.  Thanks."
        The busty redhead leaned closer.  "Have you gotten bigger since your last post?" she asked.
        "A lot bigger," Kylie said.
        "I knew it!" the woman giggled gleefully.  "How big are your arms now?"
        "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Kylie said with a smirk.  "But my hotel room has a measuring tape, and if you come by tonight, I'll show you in person.  If you think you can handle it."
        The buxom woman bounced up and down with joy as Kylie gave her a key card for the Presidential suite, and moments later we were in the Mr. Olympia pump room.  There were guys of all sizes, from Bantamweights who were only a few inches taller than Kylie, to heavyweights who looked like giants from fantasy movies.  But all of the men stopped lifting when Kylie entered the room in her little pink dress and her pigtails.  A few of them nodded sympathetically, a few of them laughed and a few of them rolled their eyes.  Ty Tate glowered at Kylie the second he saw her, and he kept glowering as she walked straight toward him as he curled 50 pound dumbbells by a huge mirror.
        Ty Tate looked even bigger in person than he did in videos, and he bristled as Kylie approached.  Standing next to him was a bleached blonde with big fake breasts in a halter top, who stared at him lasciviously as he pumped his gigantic muscles.  As Kylie approached, the bleached blonde smiled at her and waved.  "You must be the sick little girl," she said.  "My name is Tonya, and I'm Ty's wife.  You probably want his autograph, huh?"
        Kylie ignored Sofia and fixed her icy gaze on Ty. "Using light weights to pump up?" she asked.
        "They're light to me," Ty said.  "But I wouldn't advise that a 13 year old pump up with 50's."
        "You're probably right," Kylie said.  "After all, 13 year old girls need real weight to get pumped."
        Then, with her eyes locked on Ty Tate, Kylie plucked the 60 pound dumbbells off the weight rack and began to curl them to her chest with ease, first her right arm, then her left.  Then men in the pump room were shocked to see a 13 year old girl in a pink dress curling 60 pound dumbbells, and they were in awe once the baggy sleeves of her blouse started to swell with bulging muscle shapes.  And they were downright speechless as the seems of her pink dress started to tear from top to bottom.  "Holy fuck!" Allison said.  "Rick, are you seeing this?  Do you see her muscles?"
        They were hard to miss.  As Kylie's pink dress and white blouse fell to shreds at her feet, as they had been engineered to do by a professional costume designer, everyone in the pump room was given an eyeful of my 13 year old kid sister's bikini-clad body.  And she was huge. 
        Kylie wore a pink sequined bikini that struggled to cover her perfectly tanned, punishingly conditioned, bountifully busty and massively muscled body.  A body with muscles that dwarfed those of the men in the lighter weight classes.  A body that no 13 year old girl should ever be able to build.  And as the entire Mr. Olympia pump room stared at her in stunned silence, Kylie smiled. 

[Jeremy Lightning]

Oh man, I love where this is going, Kylie is going to bring down the house when she appears onstage against all those guys, most of whom are taller than her, but I'm guessing few will be bigger and none will have better symmetry. I look forward to seeing your description of her in the contest itself, please keep up the great work, grbaclig! k+!

[grbaclig]

Part 2, Chapter 18

        I couldn't believe it.  Kylie must have gained 100 pounds in the past month.  Or more.  She was bulging with thick slabs of muscle that rippled with every movement of her young body.  And her young body was so shredded that those thick slabs of muscle knotted visibly together without an ounce of fat to obscure them, except for her breasts, which were now as big as volleyballs.     
        I had gotten used to the idea of my little sister being muscular, but what I was seeing now was impossible to reconcile with reality.  She was bigger than 10 year old Kylie who used to flex her muscles over the neighborhood boys after beating them in fistfights.  She was bigger than 11 year old Kylie who used to flex her muscles over me after beating me at pull-up contests.  She was bigger than 12 year old Kylie who taunted me and Allison by the swimming pool this past summer.  And she was bigger than the 30 year old male bodybuilders who stood slack-jawed and bug-eyed as her gigantic arms pumped over and over, her eyes still locked on Ty Tate.  "This is impossible," Ty mumbled as Kylie replaced the dumbbells. 
        "What's so hard to believe?" Kylie asked with a smirk as she raised her arms into a mountainous double bicep flex.  "I'm just a 13 year old girl with 26 inches biceps.  By the way, how big are your biceps?"
        Ty said nothing, but Tonya spoke for him.  "23 inches," she said as she stared at Kylie."
        "23 inches?" Kylie sneered as she pumped her arms again.  "You call that a muscle?"
        "This can't be happening," Ty said.  "You can't be real.  You're not possible."
        "Not only am I possible, I'm inevitable," Kylie said with a laugh, flexing over and over as she taunted the reigning Mr. Olympia.  "I'm going to dominate.  My little girl muscles are bigger, stronger, and harder than your grown man muscles could ever be.  And you know what?  I'm just getting started.  I'm going dominate next year, too.  And every year after that until I get tired of winning."
        Cameras flashed around the room as Kylie continued to slowly pump her arms, her biceps the size of softballs and her triceps the size of American footballs.  She was only able to bend her elbows past 90 degrees because her biceps were so sculpted that they contracted from thick slabs into towering peaks, making room for her hulking forearms.  "This is some kind of trick," I said.  "She's injecting Synthol into her muscles, like those weird guys on the internet."
        "In her whole body?" Allison said.  "No way.  Besides that stuff makes people look lumpy and bloated.  She's just... huge... ripped... perfect.  I mean my God look at her legs.  They're magnificent."
        As if Kylie had heard her from across the room, she began to do pistol squats, pumping her massive legs one at a time as her huge striated glutes bulged like tractor tires under her golden brown skin.  A small crowd was forming around Kylie now, composed mostly of women, many of whom were the wives and girlfriends of other Mr. Olympia contestants.  After knocking out a dozen pistol squats, Kylie pointed her left leg, making her calf bulge beneath her tanned skin like two mangoes stuffed in a brown stocking, and shook her massive thigh.  She smiled with satisfaction as she flexed her quadriceps, and her muscle-wrapped leg snapped into perfect definition, the vastus muscles braided like steel cable as they tapered toward her girlish knee.
        I felt a familiar pang of anger and insecurity forming in my gut like a cold rock.  Just a few seconds ago I was looking forward to seeing my bratty little sister get shown up in public.  Just a few seconds ago I thought no woman stood a chance in the Mr. Olympia contest, especially not a 13 year old girl.  But in just a few seconds Kylie had changed all that, and now her triumph seemed certain.  The cocky smile on Kylie's face, the forlorn disbelief on the faces of the other competitors, and the giddy excitement on the faces of the press and fans told the same story.  Kylie had won the Mr. Olympia title before she ever set foot on stage.  Her unbelievable size and unmatchable conditioning leaving no doubt as to who the most muscular person on the planet was.
        Kylie bent down and slipped out of her shoes, and pulled a tube of oil out of the gift bag she had gotten when she registered.  "Anyone want to help oil me up?" she asked with a cocky smirk.
        Allison leapt into the air as if she had been pinched, but before she could take a single step, Kylie was swarmed by women, most of them wive and girlfriends of other Mr. Olympia contestants.  Tonya Tate was closest to her, and she filled her trembling hands with oil as another woman tore the tube away from her.  A few seconds later Kylie's body was being caressed by a half-dozen beautiful women, most of them on their knees as they adoringly rubbed her sculpted bulk with oil, giggling as they ran their hands over her.  "These have to be the biggest arms in the history of the world," Tonya said as she traced her fingers along the cuts in Kylie's triceps and delts.
        "They are," Kylie said as she smirked at Ty Tate.  "And in a few minutes I'm going to prove it."
        "Oh my God, they're real," a brunette with glasses squeaked.  "Your boobs are real."
        "Yeah," Kylie said.  "It's a good thing my back is so strong, because they won't stop growing."
        "You're so beautiful and so feminine, but also bestial and powerful," a beautiful Asian woman in red eye shadow said.  "You're a perfect specimen of womanhood."
        "Yeah, I know," Kylie said.
        A few minutes later Kylie shrugged herself free from the pile of adoring women, and nodded with approval as she looked at her glistening golden-brown body in a nearby mirror.  Then tossing her hair over her shoulder, she began to walk toward me and Allison, her massive muscles rippling and her big breasts wobbling.  Kylie's muscles were so oversized on her 5'2" frame that it was hard to believe that she could move at all, but she still moved with the same graceful ease that she had shown her entire life.  As she got closer, she locked me in her gaze, and I gulped in fear. 
        "Hey Rick," she said.  Remind me again what you said a few months ago.  About how I was going to stop getting bigger.  About how I could never be bigger than the guys at the Mr. Olympia."
        "This is impossible," I said.  "You can't be this big.  This is a trick.  This is fake."
        "Does this look like a trick to you?" Kylie asked as she spread her lats out until she was nearly three feet wide.  "Does this look fake?  Because this is real.  This is real live muscle."
        "No," I said, rubbing my eyes.  "This can't be happening.  Where did all that mass come from?  How are your bones long enough and strong enough to hold all that muscle?"
        "I'm going through my growth spurt," Kylie smirked as she clasped her hands, making her pectoral muscles harden into blocks of muscle as big and thick as textbooks.  "And I've grown a lot."
        "Oh fuck me," Allison squeaked.  "The pecs.  Those fucking pecs."
        "Are you doing okay, Fleabites?" Kylie asked.  "You look kind of pale."
        Pale was an understatement.  Allison was standing ramrod straight as if she were paralyzed, shaking from head to toe, her hands clenched, her breathing sporadic, and her lips trembling.  "Oh fuck," she mumbled as if she were in a trance.   "Just look at her.  Oh my God.  Oh my fucking God."
        "Look Kylie just leave us alone," I said weakly.  "We have to get to our seats, and you should just save your flexing for the stage."
        Kylie laughed as she turned to leave.  "That wasn't flexing," she said.  "I was just playing around.  When I flex my muscles, you'll know it.  The whole world will know it."
      
        A minute later, Allison and I were in our seats, but we didn't have much to say to one another.  We were both stunned into silence by my kid sister's massively muscled body.  The fanfare for the Mr. Olympia was pretty impressive, with laser lights and former champions.  One of them in particular caught Allison's attention, a tall beautiful woman with broad shoulders who had thickly muscled thighs and bulging calves beneath a very short skirt.  "That's Lorena Lopez," Allison said.  "She won a few Ms. Olympia titles in the 90's, and now she works for the sports network.  She's so hot."
        Once the competition started, the contestants came out as a group for mandatory poses, one weight class after another.  First the bantamweights, then the lightweights, then the middleweights, then the light heavyweights then the heavyweights.  "There's no way she's a heavyweight," I said.  "It says right here that you have to weigh at least 225 pounds, and Kylie's just a girl."
        "Just a girl?" Allison said, taking obvious offense.  "You're such a chauvinist.  I thought I beat that out of you, but I guess I'm going to have to get tougher." 
        "But it doesn't make sense," I insisted.  "How could she put on 125 pounds in three months?  Where does the mass come from?  I don't think you can eat 125 pounds of food in three months."
        "Women can do anything that men can do," Allison said.  "But better."
        Soon the heavyweights filed out onto the stage, one after another, with Kylie coming on last.  The crowd was cheering, excited to see the biggest bodybuilders in the world.  But as soon as Kylie stepped onto the stage, the auditorium fell silent as gasps of disbelief filled the air.  Every eye in the auditorium was trained on my kid sister.  Once again, it was all about her.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Man, what another awesome chapter to this amazing story, I just loved each and every bit of Kylie's awesome frame, her record breaking biceps, her stripper shaming breasts, her huge, ripped pecs, and the confidence that comes with knowing that you're going to do something unheard of, a 13 year old girl becoming the bodybuilding champion of the World, a title that had been meant for men, but I don't think a man will ever win the title again, I think Kylie will start a revolution where women and girls of all ages will become so big that men will never catch up, the Mr. Olympia will be dropped off the face of the Earth like the Ms. Olympia was. But I do agree with a lot of the narrative revolving around how? Did she create a muscle growth formula? Or was it all hard work and insane genetics that Kylie always had in her, but had not really put it into practice until she was challenged by her brother? Either way, I look forward to more! k+!

[grbaclig]

Part 2, Chapter 19

        9 heavyweights stood on the stage and waited for the mandatory posing to begin.  Kylie was at the very end of the line with a confident smile on her face.  And she had every reason to be confident.  Despite being a foot shorter than the other contestants, her superior size and definition were obvious, and in fact her short stature made her look even bigger. 
        The first mandatory pose was the front lat spread.  The men puffed themselves up quickly, but Kylie spread her lats slowly, and as they grew wider and wider I wondered if they would ever stop growing.  The way that her tiny waist flared into wings of muscle made her look impossibly big, and the way that her ribs and serratus muscles stood out in perfect definition made her look impossibly ripped.  "She's posing perfectly," a woman in front of us said with admiration.  "She's got all the right muscles flexed and all the right muscles relaxed.  You can tell by the way her pecs ripple and her delts pop."
        The second mandatory pose was the double biceps pose.  While most of the competitors raised their arms in a plain manner bereft of showmanship, Kylie slowly curled arms upward, her fingers splayed and her lats flaring until her biceps reached their quivering limit, their peaks rising as high as her ears.  "It's not just the size of her arms that makes her biceps pose so dominant," Allison said.  "Look at the way her delts kind of drape down from her shoulder to her chest.  That's hot."
        The third mandatory pose was the side chest pose.  It was hard to say which of Kylie's body parts were more impressive, her pectorals or her breasts.  Her tanned oily boobs were huge and firm, but they were set low on her chest, allowing an obstructed view of her massive pectorals.  Not that anything could have obstructed her pecs.  They were as big and thick as dictionaries, jutting out so dramatically that they nearly touched her chin, and they were so overdeveloped that hills and valleys were formed by the separation of of the clavicular head and the segments of the sternal head.  And every inch of her pecs were visible because of the way her gigantic boobs stretched her top to its limit, exposing a bounty of hard muscles and soft breasts.  "She could never get away with a top like that in a women's contest," a woman behind us said to her friend.  "But these judges don't know what a regulation bikini is supposed to look like.  Or maybe they're perverts and wanted to stare at her tits.  Not that I could blame them for wanting to stare.  I think I'm turning into a lesbian just watching her."
        The fourth mandatory pose was the rear lat spread.  Again Kylie spread her back slowly, allowing the knotted muscles of her back to swell and expand as she did.  When she finally finished sprawling her monstrous back, it put the men on stage to shame with its width, symmetry, and the muscle shapes that bloomed from it.  The columns of her trapezius was as thick as the arms of the men on stage with her, and her lats were so overdeveloped that they were almost circular, making her back look more like a mushroom cloud than a cobra hood.  "I swear she's almost as wide as she is tall," a woman to our right said, laughing with amazement.  "I mean, she's clearly bigger than the men."
        The fifth mandatory pose was the rear double biceps pose.  Kylie smoothly transitioned her arms upward, making the muscles of her back bulge and contract as she did.  Kylie showed perfect definition in her rhomboids, infraspinatus, obliques, teres, lats and traps.  And her perfect tan and perfect oiling made sure that every single muscle was visible, each one clearly separated from its neighbors by deep cuts.  And her arms were just as impressive.  Her biceps popped up from the cleft between her deltoids and her brachialis like hot air balloons rising out of valleys, and her triceps were so swollen with power that they rubbed against her bulging lats.  "I've spent 30 years following this sport," a man's voice said in bewilderment.  "How did a 13 year old girl build the biggest and most muscular back in the history of bodybuilding?  My 13 year old can't even mow the lawn correctly."
        The sixth mandatory pose was the side triceps pose.  Kylie was starting to smile now, not the thin nasty smile that flashed for dramatic effect, but the big beaming smile that overtook her whenever she was dominant in a competition.  And dominant was the only word for her side triceps pose.  The entire crowd chattered with excitement as they stared at the striated bulk of her cantaloupe-sized delts, the hulking bulge of her crab claw shaped tricep, and forearms as thick as the upper arms of the men that she was competing with.  And with her legs bent, the unreal thickness of her rounded glutes, the massively cabled musculature of her gigantic thighs, and the dramatic jutting of her diamond-shaped calves all emphasized her size advantage.  But the most impressive thing about Kylie's side triceps pose was the way her posture and position emphasized the feminine curves of her body.  Her tiny waist made her lats and butt look bigger, her dainty wrists and hands made her forearms look bigger, and her slim ankles and knees made her legs look absolutely unreal.  And of course, her gigantic breasts stood proud and firm, bulging visibly out of the pink sequined bikini top even in profile.  "She's beyond big, beyond ripped," a woman whispered to Allison, who nodded in agreement. 
        The seventh mandatory pose was the abdominal and thigh pose.  Kylie began by lifting up her gigantic boobs up so that her abdomen could be fully seen.  Her hourglass figure was wrapped with muscle, from her chiseled ribs, to her rippling serratus muscles, to her eight perfectly symmetrical abs, all the way down to her obliques, which were ribboned with striations near her ribcage and curled into a perfect v-line as they plunged into her pink sequined bikini bottom.  And then she flexed.  With her torso tensed, the cuts defining her abs and obliques deepened into gouges, while the smaller muscles around her ribcage rippled like waves under her golden brown skin.  As Kylie thrust her right leg forward, her tiny toes pointing toward the stage, her titanic thigh rumbled to life, her muscles tightening like steel cable being drawn.  Even from the front, the dimple of her bulging butt were visible where her gluteus medius and tensor fasciae muscles met the top of her femoris muscle, which ballooned to the thickness of a rugby ball before tapering down to cleave into her teardrop shaped vastus muscles.  The pectineus muscle that framed her quadricep was as thick as a belt and so well defined that it could be seen running from her bikini bottom all the way down to her knee, flanked by the muscles of her inner thigh, which bulged with size and definition that none of the men could compete with.  "Her figure is more feminine than mine, and her muscles are bigger than my husband's," Tonya Tate said.
        The eight mandatory pose was the most muscular pose.   All eyes were on Kylie as she curled her arms downward, her traps, delts, triceps, biceps and pecs swelling with mass and rippling with definition.  The combination of her enormous bulk and short stature made her look positively superhuman as her muscles continued to contract, and the dramatic effect of her muscularity was heightened by the contrast of her brawny body with her angelic facial features, blonde pigtails and enormous breasts.  Her muscular superiority was more obvious now than ever, and her smile widened, her perfect white teeth accentuating her youthful beauty.  The men on stage weren't smiling.
        Next came the callouts, where the judges would have two or three competitors come forward and hit a pose, so that the development of specific muscle groups could be compared.  Kylie never got called forward, but her smile never faded, and as the competitors left the stage.  "Why didn't the little girl get a callout?" the woman next to Allison asked.
        "It's because she' already won,"  Allison said.  "The men are competing for second place now."
        It was hard to argue with her.  The audience was still abuzz with talk of my kid sister's muscles as the screens in the auditorium began to show backstage interviews while the competitors prepared for their individual routines.  Not surprisingly, reporters were crowded around Kylie.  "Kylie!" a reporter with a Hawaiian shirt called.  "Is it true you're only 13 years old?"
        Kylie rolled her eyes.  "Is it true you got a job as a reporter even though you can't do elementary research? " she asked.  "There's this new thing called 'Google'.  You should check it out."
        "Kylie!" a reporter with a mustache called. "Is it true that you have a rare incurable disease?"
        "It's called 'That Bitch-itis'," Kylie said.  "It's rare because I'm the only person who has it, and it's incurable because I'm never going to stop being That Bitch."
        The reporter with the mustache looked confused.  "Um, is it fatal?" he asked.
        "Only to people who make me angry," Kylie said, glaring at Ty Tate.
        The next reporter in line was Lorena Lopez, the former Miss Olympia who worked for the sports network.  Allison sighed audibly at Lorena's amazonian beauty. "Kylie," Lorena said.  "Young women have unique body chemistry, with lots of native growth hormone and an estrogen balance conducive to gaining muscle.  How have you tailored your program to optimize those advantages?"
        "Good question," Kylie said.  "I wish I could give you a good answer, but the truth is that my program is simple.  I eat whatever I want, I'm in the gym for 9 hours every day, and I always lift heavy."
        "Can you give a sense of what 'heavy' means for someone like you?"  Lorena Lopez asked.
        "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Kylie said with a smile.  "But my hotel room has a private gym, and if you want to come over, I'll show you in person.  If you think you can handle it."
        Lorena Lopez blushed and giggled as other reports pushed around her to get to Kylie, ignoring the male competitors.  As the reporters clamored, Kylie smirked.  Once again, it was all about her.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Another short, but deliciously sweet chapter, Kylie won hands down, no doubt about it, the only placing in doubt was who was going to come in second. I also liked her responses to a couple of those questions, very confident, but she has every right to be as was said earlier in the story. Now the only question is how strong is Kylie? Lorena Lopez may find out before we do, when, and my fingers are crossed here, she conquers the World's Strongest Man contest. I look forward to more! k+!

[saldin]

Amazing! Fantastic! How many stories have you wrote before? Because this is insanely good!

The story is advancing quite quickly, and I'm wondering what comes next after Kylie conquers the World's Strongest Man Competition. There isn't much more left (that I can think of) in the realm of strength and physical power... Undefeated world MMA champion, maybe? Sweeping the olympics, getting nothing but gold medals in multiple specialties while setting impossible-to-break records? Crush other sports, like winning alone against whole teams in soccer/basketball/football/volleyball/etc?

I also have to say that I wonder how much can Rick stand before he completely snaps. When Rick boasted that Kylie would never surpass the top males in their own male-only, strength-and-muscle fields, it was a masterstroke. He wouldn't have to do anything by himself, and Kylie would be demoralized when she eventually failed. With the Mr Olympia arc, I really felt his confidence and hope waver, then still hold on to them as he still had faith in his heart that there was still a small chance for him to see her fail at somethingl, before being brought back down to earth once again and deeper in hopelessness and desperation.
He already tried to have her beaten just to slow her down, so we're shown he is capable of evil. Now that his sister conquers more territory, how far will he allow himself to go just to get her stop?

I'm hooked. I'm checking every day just to see when a new part is posted, and every time I give Karma.

[phil123]

After she won she gets measured at her suite?

A great story and I'm happy to read the next chapter

[srielley]

Fabulous story so far.  How big will she get from here?

[grbaclig]

Part 2, Chapter 20
   
        The screens went blank, marking the end of the interviews and the beginning of the individual routines, but the crowd was still talking about my Kylie.  In fact they had never stopped.  And they kept talking about her, even when the men began their individual routines, and most people were paying so little attention to the men that they forgot to clap for them.  They were too busy trying to pull up pictures and information about Kylie on their phones.  I stood up to leave, but Allison grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back down to my seat.  "Where do you think you're going?" she asked.
        "I need some fresh air," I said.
        That was a lie.  I hated watching Kylie show off.  I had been living in her shadow since she was in kindergarten.  Kylie was always better than me at everything, and I every time I saw her showing off, I remembered all the times she lorded her superiority over me.  I got mad when I thought about the men competing in the Mr. Olympia,  and about how Kylie had barged in on them and taken all the glory that they had worked so hard for, because she had been doing to me my whole life.  The thought of seeing her dance around in her glittery bikini while an adoring crowd cheered her on was more than I could take.  I opened my mouth to tell Allison how I felt, but she cut me off instantly.  "You need to stay here and film Kylie's routine," she said.  "I'm going to do it, but my hands are kind of shaky for some reason, so I need a backup."
        "Allison, please," I begged.
        Allison's beautiful face twisted into a scowl.  "The only way you're leaving is if I beat the shit out of you for disobeying me and paramedics take you away, " she said.  "Is that what you want?"
        I slumped in my seat and took out my phone.  Then a hush fell over the crowd as the screen flashed my kid sister's statistics:  Kylie O'Reilly, Height 5'2", Weight 237lbs., Age 13.  As Kylie strolled onto the stage, Allison began to squirm in her seat, and pointed her phone's camera at the stage, just like all the other women in the crowd.  Kylie's face was stoic as she began her routine, raising her arms over her head with her fists pointing outward in a myth pose.  With her legs together and her lats flaring, her feminine curves emphasized her broad back and thick thighs.  Her abdomen looked like an avalanche of muscles as her torso stretched, her forearms were as thick as softballs as her fists curled, and her pecs looked six inches thick as they blended into her delts.  "Oh fuck me," Allison whispered.
        Then Kylie dropped into a side splits, slowly and smoothly so that the chiseled muscles of her inner thighs were on full display.  At the bottom of her splits, Kylie dropped her arms into a double biceps pose that made the crowd stand up and cheer as a satisfied smile spread across her face.  Then the cheering grew louder as Kylie began to squeeze her legs together again, raising herself up off the ground using only the power of her thighs, her 26" biceps still flexed into mountainous peaks of quivering muscle.  "Mom, can I get a gym membership?" a girl's voice called out from our right.  "I want muscles like Kylie."
        Kylie's lowered her arms and bent forward, giving the audience a view of her gigantic tanned breasts as she planted her hands and raised herself effortlessly into a handstand, displaying her muscle-knotted back and incredible shoulders.  Her lower body was even more impressive, from her gargantuan buttocks to her muscle-etched hamstrings, to her upside-down calves that looked like hearts carved out of golden brown marble, all the way up to her tiny feet which pointed skyward.  When the crowd had cheered themselves out, Kylie flipped forward and landed deftly on her feet, her pigtails still perfectly primped, her body moving with balletic grace despite her impossible mass.  "Those pigtails are too much," woman to our left giggled.  "I'm going to need to change my panties."
        The second Kylie's feet hit the ground, she sprang up onto her tiptoes, making her quads and calves explode with mass, and then floated her arms downward slowly to show of her sprawling lats.  Then she clasped her hands together in front of her navel and began to slowly flex her pectorals mammoth pectorals, one at a time, first the right and then left.  Her pecs began to to swell and contract under her skin like hydraulic rollers under a golden brown silk as her volleyball-sized boobs wobbled in her pink sequined bikini top.   Kylie looked down at her rippling pecs and jiggling breasts and smiled, visibly pleased with her muscularity and bustiness.  "This is so gross," I mumbled.
        But Kylie wasn't finished.  She continued her routine, her gigantic muscles moving with symphonic harmony as she flowed easily from one pose to another.  And by the time shew blew a kiss to the crowd and strutted off stage, everyone in the auditorium was on their feet cheering for her.  Everyone except for me.  There were a few men who went on after Kylie, but no one really paid attention to them.  Kylie had stolen the show.  Once again, it was all about her.
        After the individual routines, the winners of each weight class were brought on stage for the posedown of the Mr. Olympia contest.  The final competitors were four grown men and a 13 year old girl.  The men didn't stand a chance.  "Look at her," Allison said as the posedown began.  "She doesn't have a single weakness.  She's perfect.  She's absolutely perfect."
        It was hard to argue with her.  Every muscle in Kylie's body was bigger and more developed than those of her male counterparts, and her perfect symmetry made the men look lopsided by comparison.  But her superiority wasn't limited to her physique.  Her perfectly tanned skin shown with a natural glow, every single strand of hair on her head was in the perfect place, her beautiful face exuded health with its perfect symmetry, and the lines of her pink sequined bikini accentuated her curvaceous body perfectly like pinstripes on a sportscar.  Kylie was completely and utterly dominant in every way.  The men jockeyed for position in the posedown, and they tried their best to cover Kylie, but it was all for naught.  A few minutes after setting foot on stage in her second bodybuilding competition, my 13 year old little sister became the first woman to win the Mr. Olympia title.
        Kylie was visibly unimpressed as she accepted her trophy and her medal, as if it meant nothing to her.  And it didn't.  I knew Kylie well enough to know that she didn't care about trophies.  She cared about dominating.  Lorena Lopez joined her on stage and hugged her, for a little too long, before beginning an interview.  "Kylie, you were amazing!"  Lorena gushed, barely able to contain her excitement.  "You stepped onto a stage with the biggest men in the world, and you dominated!"
        "Yeah, I know," Kylie said.
        Lorena continued, struggling to make eye contact as she ogled my bikini-clad little sister.  "People are already saying that you have most perfectly developed physique of all time." she said.  "Do you have anything to say about that?"
        "Those people are correct," Kylie said.  "No one else is even in my league, honestly."
        "And do you have anything to say to the people who doubted you?" Lorena asked.
        "No," Kylie said.  "I let my muscles talk for me.  After all, this contest wasn't about grown man muscle, it was about 13 year old girl muscle.  It was all about 13 year old girl muscle."
        And to punctuate her dig at Ty Tate, Kylie raised her arms and flexed her towering biceps again, and the crowd erupted with cheers as Lorena Lopez signed off, and the stage lights dimmed.

        After the award ceremony, there was a reception in the hotel banquet room.  Kylie didn't attend.  Instead she walked through the hotel lobby toward the elevator that led to her suite, with Lorena Lopez on one arm, and the busty redhead from the registration table on the other.  Allison had a look of yearning on her face as she watched them walking together and laughing.  When the elevator doors closed, Allison closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.  "Allison, are you all right?" I asked.
        Then Allison opened her eyes, pulled me close and kissed me, and we went to the reception.  That night, guys hit on Allison constantly, but she rebuffed them all and clung to my arm like a loving girlfriend.  Later in our hotel room we had incredible sex.  Allison was insatiable, using her athletic body and bountiful assets to rub, grind and envelope me in ways I never thought possible.  By offering me her body, Allison had erased all the pent-up anger and jealousy I felt toward my overachieving little sister, and I glowed with warmth as we fucked well into the night.  Afterward we collapsed into pile on my bed.  "I love you," I said to her.  "I need you.  Without you, I don't know how I would make it through the day."
        "I need you, too," she said.  "Without you, I don't know how I would ever get to see Kylie."
        The warmth I felt just moments ago faded as Allison's words plunged into my heart like an icy dagger.  My eyes filled with tears, my gut burned with anger and I didn't get much sleep that night.