A Bodybuilder’s Tale - Ch. 7“Two Minutes to Midnight”********
Four and a half hours of nonstop lifting with weights no man could ever budge had left the two girls exhausted. Despite her domineering start, Heather failed to shake off her new and annoyingly persistent rival. Michelle had sniffed out her strategy and conceded ground tactically against the redhead’s blitzkrieg. Unlike her more stage-experienced future classmate, it seemed as though she had held nothing in reserve for the swim back to shore. With the more modest of the two posting dominant wins in several core and leg exercises, this race was now too close to call.
“You’ve been toying with me, haven’t you?” Heather smoldered, her silhouette swollen with so much pumped, veiny mass that her little bikini had to hang on for dear life. Her huge chest heaved as she recovered, having matched—and failed to overtake—her equally bloated, equally shredded counterpart with the final squat.
“Are you kidding?” Michelle raised her brow. “I haven’t pushed myself this hard in months! You’ve been kicking my ass all night.”
“As if,” she held her tongue. The pesky brunette had been pushing her buttons ever since they picked up those dumbbells, and if she wasn’t such a worthy opponent, she would have had her way with her by now.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Heather called out as her workout partner started to walk away. “The bench machine is over
there.”
“Oh right, oops!” Michelle smiled innocently enough and turned around.
Heather rolled her eyes. “What, have you already forgotten about your plan?”
“Plan? What’re you talking about?”
“Stop playing dumb. I know you left the bench press for last. If you don’t take me seriously, you’re in for a rude awakening,” she challenged.
“Maybe you should be taking
me seriously. I mean, how many times have I managed to outlift you tonight?” Michelle smirked, finally acknowledging their unspoken contest.
Heather scoffed. “Big talk for someone about to get embarrassed. Go on, let’s see what ya got,” she cocked her head towards what would be their final torture test, and surely the decider.
“What, are you too tired to kick this one off?”
“Yeah right. Unlike you, I wasn’t pretending to be impressed by your pecs when we first met. I wanna learn from the master, so
you take the first set.” Heather crossed her arms and stood stubbornly by the machine.
“As you wish.” Michelle squeezed her enormous body onto the seat, which was really just a cushion of ultra-dense foam fixed atop a slab of metal. “Traditional” bench presses had fallen out of favor long ago, having been rendered obsolete by pecs that had literally grown too large to allow for proper range of motion. Instead, this gym’s bench machine was equipped with a pair of small but sturdy handles that held a legion of plates on the flanks. Beneath them on either side were dials, similar to the dumbbells from earlier, that could be used to adjust the weight as they pleased. She turned them until the counter read a staggering 8,000 lbs—over 10 times the men’s world
record—and went to work as if it was just another day at the office. Metered exhales were the only sounds that escaped her body as she pressed the man-crushing weights unbothered.
Heather looked on and scrutinized her form as much as her figure. Involuntarily, she bit her bottom lip while her tremendous thighs rubbed together. Hours of heavy lifting always left her feeling hot and bothered, especially when she flaunted her goods for her own enjoyment as she had throughout tonight. But this was the first time she had the privilege of sharing the gym with a truly worthy opponent—someone just as big, strong, and sexy soon to take the very same stage as her—and it was flustering her in more ways than she would ever care to admit.
10… 20… 30 reps flashed by with unreal efficiency, each as perfectly executed as the last. In spite of the insulting ease of the warmup, her gargantuan chest had stretched the bra’s fabric into little more than a thin veneer of paint, and with a cavernous expanse of flesh spilling out from all sides, little was left to Heather’s growing imagination. Her cheeks were warm and rosy, filled with equal parts awe, envy, and excitement. When the handles came down for the final time, she turned away to burn her shame. Michelle then sat up and asked insolently, “So, did you learn anything?”
Heather spun around and returned fire, “Only that if you worked as hard on the rest of your body as you did your chest, you’d have won the Teen USA in a heartbeat.”
“Maybe. But at least
I was there,” she quipped, her mouth curling with smugness.
Heather quickly forgot all about her conflicting feelings. “You know what? I’m getting tired of all this beating around the bush. Why don’t we settle this, old West style?” She untied her bikini top and unabashedly let it drift to the floor, exposing her fully erect teats and massively stuffed pectorals for all to see.
“What the hell are you doing?” Michelle put her hands up to provide some modesty for her own eyes.
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen these already, you prude. I just don’t want to ruin my top,” Heather gestured to her to get off the machine. “Anyway, what’s your max?”
“My max? It’s…” she stood up and paused.
Heather gave her a funny look. “...It’s…?”
“20k,” she finally answered.
“Is that right? Well, here’s what’s going to happen: I’m going to smash your little PR in this set, and because I’m so gracious, I’ll even give you a chance to outdo me. If you can’t, I win. Deal?”
Michelle hesitated once more. Could her smaller chest really do what she touted? Maybe that was a pointless question. This pump-crazed girl had done the seemingly impossible before, and telling her “no” was the same as admitting defeat. “Alright. Show me.”
“I will.” Heather organized herself on the bench and took a few deep breaths to prepare. “Oh, and just so you know… The bench press is
my favorite exercise too,” she winked, dialing the weight not to 20k, but all the way to a nauseating 21,000 lbs!
The fear that smeared across Michelle’s once confident expression was all Heather needed to see. Hands wrapped firmly around the handles, the pale-skinned vixen brought all of her young might to bear with a viscous howl, her body shaking with such terrifying effort that it even made the hairs on her rival’s neck stand up. But the weights didn’t move. And surely they wouldn’t, right? The stellar brunette had just been given the unofficial title of “Best Pecs” of all the rising freshmen in the country by ‘Bodybuilding Today.’ There was no way some unranked teen could outbench her, right? All Heather would do now would be to embarrass herself in a desperate plea to take the spotlight…
right?Wrong. Somehow, the handles of the machine began to rise! It was a painstakingly slow effort, each inch off the starting block needing several seconds and surely taking several years off of their respective lives! Though her garish chest quaked like fault lines giving way, her arms remained rock steady and her technique every bit as flawless as her shocked predecessor’s. Michelle once again found herself praying that some higher power would intervene and strike those efforts down. Unfortunately, just as before, her prayers went unanswered.
“Hhhrrrrrggghhhh!!” With another war cry, she at last spoke the impossible feat into existence—six sedans worth of metal were now held aloft by an 18 year old girl who had never even stood on a podium in a bodybuilding competition!
Michelle’s jaw went slack, her mind unwilling to accept the gruesome truth. Things only got worse from there. The weight reached its apex for a second and third time as she proved youth and inexperience meant little to her brutish strength. Tears streamed down her ruddy cheeks, the excruciating pain of her muscle-destroying effort contorting her once beautiful visage into something demonic—yet it could not stop her all the same. The machine was simply no match for her perfect body, now elevated with even greater levels of classmate-conquering brawn. Humongous muscle tits flared outwards, mashing violently into equally jacked arms with enough force to crumble concrete. Veins as thick as rattlesnakes slithered across channels that cut deep into her flesh, enveloping her twisted form in a network of vasculature obscene enough to headline a horror film.
Michelle’s head was spinning. Her knees dared to buckle under the weight of Heather’s throaty cries as she punctuated each successful lift with an immodest grunt. Her competitive spirit was driving the ten and a half tons of advanced alloy upwards by sheer force of will. She didn’t know she shouldn’t be able to lift weights so mighty at such a young age, and clearly, she did not care. By number six, Michelle wanted to throw up. Her PR had been capped at a meager five reps, and here this psychotically overpowered juvenile was making a mockery of one of her greatest achievements! The eighth and final rep soon came back down like a hammer, the machine clanking loudly like bells tolling for her doom. It was over.
“FUCK YEAH!!!” Heather roared, launching herself off the machine the moment the handles were secured. She had done it. She had put that busty bitch in her place, and now there was no doubt who was going to be the big dog on campus in a few months.
She tossed a haughty look at the vanquished, only to find the color had drained from her once vibrant face. “What? Nothing to say?” she jabbed, her entire body throbbing from its otherworldly feat. Michelle just sat there, silent and helpless. No carefully made plan or clever remark could save her. Heather, however, was not satisfied to leave it at that.
“Look at these babies… God, I think they’re bigger than yours now!” She flexed her chest right in front of Michelle’s thousand-yard stare, sweat droplets whipping into her face as those naked pecs nearly engulfed her field of view. A staggering stockade of pure muscle with its woefully deep cuts and clusters of sausage-thick veins rudely trampled all over her personal space while fully engorged nipples threatened to poke her eyes out. Heather had been right to take off her top as it otherwise would have disintegrated, but the ability to flaunt the fruits of her labors unobscured was the real prize. Having her rival salivating over her perfect nudeness was just the cherry on top.
Both were quiet for the next minute, one sitting in awe and the other standing in triumph. Heather glanced at the mirror to find that there was plenty of truth to her boasting. She milked the flex a few more times to confirm—her meaty mammaries jut out a staggering foot and a half from her rib cage, all the while being
caked with spine-tingling shreddedness! She caressed the underside of her pectoral shelf to find they weren’t just bigger, but harder than they had ever been. Heather bit her lip and fought back the urge to feed Michelle one of her fully-engorged teats right then and there. However, before she could do anything she might regret, she relaxed her chest. Then, she stumbled backwards onto the bench, her body just now realizing the incredible physical toll it had taken. She stared at the ceiling, panting, then sighed, “So, ready to hit the showers?”
Michelle bit her tongue with enough force to draw blood, the pain yanking her eyes away from their disgraceful ogling. After a few seconds of silence, she cleared her throat and asked, “Isn’t it my turn?”
“What?” Heather instantly sat back up, the question stated clearly yet made little sense to her workout-fogged brain.
“You said I’d have a shot too, no?” Her voice was as steady as it had ever been.
Heather’s brows furrowed. “So you
were lying, huh? I should have known!” She stood up in a huff and confronted her opponent. “What’s your real max then? 21,000? Were you just watching me all doe-eyed just so you could embarrass me?”
“No, you were right. It was 20k flat.” Michelle touched her shoulder on her way back to the bench. “You beat me.”
Heather was quiet as she swapped places with the great white whale she thought she had subdued. She turned around and watched with intent as the brunette steadied herself along the length of the bench.
“But you got one thing wrong…” Michelle continued as she lay flat, cranking the dial up to 21,000… 21,500…
22,000 lbs!Heather gulped.
“My pecs are still bigger!” she declared, pouring all of her passion and every last bit of energy held in reserve into this final set. It was as if every weight she had lifted, every inch she had gained, and all the competitions she had won in her life had led her to this singular moment. She had no choice but to fulfill the promise she made at the beginning of the night—to vanquish the fiercest competitor she had ever faced—lest all she had ever accomplished turn to ash.
Veins popped from her forehead and a blood vessel nearly burst in her eye. But even as her arms quivered, the handles remained motionless. If anything, it felt as if they were pushing back against her, pressing her deeper and deeper into the seat. Even with another breath and a redoubling of what was already a 110% effort, there was no ground gained. She pushed and pushed and pushed, but after fifteen seconds of teeth-grinding, sweat-dripping exertion, the only thing moving were the corners of Heather’s mouth, coiling into a wicked smile. This was the final nail in the coffin.
Then, suddenly, a creak escaped from the machine. Heather gasped, incredulous at the sight and sound. But her senses had not deceived her. That metallic groan was indeed the signature of a machine fighting back… and losing! After what seemed like an eon to both girls, the weights had moved up ever so slightly. At first, Heather reassured herself that this was as far as she could go: keeping the handles suspended a few inches up from the starting position. That was, until they crawled upwards once more. Every microscopic advance was a callback to the days of trench warfare, every tiny piece of land fought for with hellish fury. But reinforcements were on their way, her pectorals recruiting increasingly disturbing layers of vascular mass to keep the advance going. Even at a snail’s pace, the summit would not be denied!
*clank* With the first rep completed, it seemed as though knowing she could was all she really needed. The handles went up for a second and third time hardly any faster, but that foothold she had established on that inhospitable precipice was growing larger by the second. Heather looked on in amazement, unable to reconcile those bombshell looks with the brutal conditioning and profound muscularity of the rest of her body. This young, undeniably feminine girl had been throwing tons of metal around like sticks. Now she was benching forty times her own body weight! For the first time in her life, she had found someone who was capable of pushing her limits. And that made her very,
very excited.
The facade of stoicism Michelle had expertly crafted throughout the evening, trying to make every rep look too easy, was long gone. Now, she was practically goring the machine like an untamed jungle beast. Her bra tightened with every rep, its amazingly durable, elastic fibers digging into her breasts, kneading them like a lover’s hands. Meanwhile, her shorts rode farther and farther up her groin as the tremendous muscles of her pelvic girdle flexed involuntarily just like the rest of her body, rallying for the fight of her life. A soft moan inaudible to Heather’s ears over the squealing of gears escaped her lips as her nethers felt the caress of the soft fibers of her strained underwear. An unfamiliar warmth had wrapped around her like a cloak, dulling her other senses and insulating her from reality. It was as if all the sexual tension that had built up over the course of the night from watching that disgustingly sexy and unfairly strong redhead crush weights with ease was being converted into energy for muscles that should have caved long ago. In fact, she was no longer struggling. She was
accelerating.Heather found herself panting at the sight of the overinflated teen. She had never witnessed such horrifically defined, awe-inspiringly yoked, and breathtakingly sexed-up muscle-breasts up close in real time, and certainly never imagined anyone with her youth could treat weights this intimidating with such disrespect. At the nadir of each lift, where the tide of Michelle’s face-obscuring muscles was lowest, she saw that her eyes, which had been shut tightly just moments earlier, were now wide open and glazed over. Was she actually being turned on by her own lifts?
That very question left the starstruck teen with no other choice but to slip a desperate hand underneath her bikini, at last giving in to the heat that had been rising within her all night. She knew Michelle was too locked in and her muscles literally too fucking big to see past to catch her vulgarity. But she would have done it even if she was staring straight at her. She
needed this.
15 reps in, each monumental push was announced by the eargasmic sound of mammoth slabs of girl-beef grinding up against each other. That, in combination with Michelle’s own sordid groans, was more than enough to drown out the tousling of Heather’s dripping sex. She could feel herself edging closer, staring with supreme focus at a sports bra that had been stretched translucent. Even the thinnest among her rips and cuts were as clear as day under the harsh glow of the gym lights. Those very same lights were now obscured from Michelle’s vision, pure animal sinew bloating her unholy pecs with enough breadth to cast a terrifying shadow across the bottom of her beautiful face and leaving her lust-hazed admirer on the brink of collapse.
“Oh god, please break…” she whimpered behind her free hand, egging on the tiny tears that were forming all over the yielding fabric. Soon enough, she got her wish.
“GRRRRRAAAAAAHHH!!!” A piercing wail cut through the musky air as the handles rocketed towards the ceiling, the 11 tons of metal attached to them stopping only once the emergency catch locked them in place! Her bra popped like a balloon, the industrial-strength fibers torn into hundreds of tiny shreds as her arms, chest, and indeed her entire body inflated with muscles neither girl would have ever thought possible!
Heather doubled over and muffled a scream into her hands. Sweat and cum dripped from her bikini. The once proud 18 year old supergirl had been reduced to a mindfucked heap.
With the walls still reverberating from the crash of those humbled weights, Michelle was left gasping. Her body splayed across the drenched bench like a hulking pile of rubble that had buckled under its own outrageous weight. Her mind began to drift in and out. Searing pain and air hunger were the only two things keeping her from blacking out entirely. It took several more minutes for her to recover any semblance of conscious thought. When she did, she realized she couldn’t remember anything past her first couple of lifts, neither the number of reps, nor her struggle. But what she did know, and the only thing that really mattered, was that she had won. Still, with the pounding in her ears and the searing pain throughout her body, celebration was the furthest thing from her mind. She weakly looked to her left to see Heather inexplicably on the ground on all fours. The pair locked eyes and simply stared for a while, unsure of what to say or what to do. An uncomfortable silence fell over the gym. That was, until…
*ding* An unassuming bell sound wafted over the floor and signaled the opening of the automatic doors. The spent girls were jarred awake. Heather cursed as she dragged herself off the ground and onto a bench, tripoding so that nobody would see her thoroughly soaked nethers. Michelle was less concerned about her own indecency, having been rendered almost immobile. She had nothing to be ashamed of anyway. After all, it was
this naked chest that had set a new record, left her rival in a humiliated heap, and claimed victory over the night. Let whoever look upon their mighty visage, and despair.
“Michelle?” a male voice called out from close by. This time, the striking familiarity of his tone tore her out of her apathy. Michelle slowly sat up, every movement made difficult by the aching all over. When her vision finally focused, she couldn’t believe who their uninvited guest was.
“D-Dan?!” she blurted. “How did you…” Her voice trailed off once she saw the massive tent that was pitched on his pants. Immediately, a rather devious idea sprung to mind. Michelle glanced back at Heather to find her head still hung in defeat. Then, with a pernicious grin, she turned towards Dan, determined to bury that cocky bitch forever.
“Wanna check our pump?”
He gagged at the suggestion. The whole point of coming out here was just to make sure Michelle was alright. And only by some act of serendipity—finding a Black Card on the ground outside—could he have even made it in. Now, had been extended an offer he could not refuse, and yet he was too shocked to answer. Seeing two effectively naked muscle goddesses pumped to their absolute max would have been a lot for anyone to handle, even more so for a teenage boy. In fact, he was so blindsided that he didn’t even realize his manhood was rudely pointing their way! Dan had recognized Heather far quicker than he would ever care to admit. Her red hair, freckles, and overwhelming jack had been living rent free in his mind all day. She was beautiful beyond belief, and with the hundreds of pounds of sweat-soaked she-meat that throbbed across her body, she was every bit as worthy of wearing the Miss Teen America crown as anyone he had ever known.
Except Michelle. Or whoever this freakazoid was that had swallowed his girlfriend whole. If this was the girl that had shown up at the club today, things might have ended very differently. When the brown-haired behemoth stood up, his soul nearly left his body. Though he was still taller, he had never felt smaller in his life. Muscles atop muscles atop even more vein-laden, laser-engraved muscles throbbed and pulsed as she approached, and when her planetary pecs stood just millimeters away from his own, he could have sworn he felt their gravity pulling him closer.
“Well? How about it?” she asked again. There was no mistaking the sparkling, emerald glint in her eyes or the soft, silky caress of her voice. Even so, the sight remained alien. Sure, he had seen Michelle naked more times than he could count. But not like this. Not this insanely shredded. Not this unbelievably pumped.
“We’re waiting…”
“I… I-uh-uhhhh… Err…” Before his confused sounds could coalesce into a coherent response, Michelle turned at the sound of heavy footsteps. Heather was walking away.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Where does it look like?” she replied without looking back.
“Hitting the showers so soon?”
Michelle received no response.
“I don’t blame you,” she continued her badgering with a satisfied smirk. “To get out-lifted
and out-flexed all in one night would be pretty embarrassing.”
“Not as embarrassing as I made you look at the club!” Heather finally reciprocated before turning her crystalline blue high beams, now ripe with fury, back onto her tormentor. “And I’m not going to the showers, dumbass.”
“Then where-”
“The posing room has measuring tapes. We’re going to settle this by the numbers.” The venom in her voice stung even as it drifted away into the corridors.
Equally eager to put an end to the night in triumph, Michelle grabbed her glassy-eyed boyfriend by the hand and followed her rival. In the next room, they found themselves surrounded by the same floor-to-ceiling mirrors as before. Something skipped across the hardwood and stopped right in front of Dan’s feet.
“Let’s get this over with.” Heather had tossed them a measuring tape, determined to turn the tables. No longer was she sullied by the same unexpected and uncontrollable urges she had experienced during Michelle’s final set. She had regained sight of her original goal: dominance. And she knew just how to do that.
Dan picked up the tape, all 12 feet still mostly coiled. Heather then sauntered over, her big, luscious hips swaying with each thudding step. The hairs on the back of his neck rose to full attention, as did his member. He cautiously turned away to face Michelle, terrified of how she would react, only to find her floating towards one of the mirror walls as if detached from it all.
“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?” Heather asked as she stood uncomfortably close to another woman’s territory.
Seemingly entranced by her own image, her inflection was almost uncaring. “You… go ahead.”
Heather’s glare burned holes into her opponent’s unendingly beefed-up back. Pumped or not, she was going to make her eat those words. She knew men and women, young or old, had trouble controlling themselves around her, especially when she was in her groove. She had Grace to thank for that. But what Grace could never equal was the sheer level of brawn and muscle control she had cultivated over the past half decade. All that made for a package that could submit most even without a finger laid.
“Dan, was it? I must say, you’re quite handsome!” Heather licked her chops. Picking up on another’s lust, however involuntary it might be, was second nature to her. Yet, even she had never seen a bulge so… big. This was going to be fun.
“My, my. Is
that because you don’t see muscles like mine very often?” She teased, nodding at his massive hardon. Dan didn’t even recoil in embarrassment. Every last drop of shame had long evaporated before that awe-inspiring figure.
“Why don’t you put those hands to good use and tell me how big
this is?” A towering bicep erupted like a volcano bursting through the ocean surface, easily reaching her wrist. “Or
this?” The other arm followed suit, sandwiching her youthful beauty between nothing but sickening stacks of sinew. “Go ahead sweety, take your pick.” Heather giggled, then glanced over at Michelle, expecting to see an attack dog foaming at the mouth. Instead, all she saw was an overpumped and overrated blue-blood too wrapped up in herself for her own good.
Failing to capture her attention, her sexy smile warped into a much more sinister veneer. “Not big enough for you, huh?” she snarled as she turned back towards Dan, who’s trembling hands still lacked the audacity of his eyes. “How about… now!” Her arms exploded once again, this time with gusto. The thunderous crackle of overgrown musculature being stuffed with even more teenage brawn made his ears ring. Gone was that trademark smugness, replaced by pure rage! He shivered at the sight. The level of shredded mass she showed off on stage earlier was already hard to believe, and now she had somehow surpassed her own lofty benchmarks!
“Ahhh, nothing quite like the sound of muscles when they’re all warmed up!” As her arms shook from the effort it took to keep such excessively built muscles maxed out, his eyes traced each majestic mountain from the base of her triceps to the very peak. “Go ahead and tell me how
big I am.”
He did as he was told and gingerly wrapped the generous tape measure around the widest part of her right arm, itself stuffed with more muscle and strength than he had—or could ever have—in his entire body. A sharp exhale escaped his slack jaw the moment the ends came together.
“S-s-sixty… f-five…!” It had been a while since he had done the same for Michelle, but there was little doubt that number was well beyond whatever he had written down last time for his own immensely talented girlfriend.
Heather bit her lower lip, keen to the wetness now rolling down her inner thigh. “Mmmm, not bad,” she huffed, relaxing her arms and lustily cupping the underside of her heaving pecs. “But I bet
these are what you’re really interested in, hmmm?” She playfully bounced those overinflated basketballs up and down just inches from his face. Her powerful fingers kneaded them with enough force to turn steel into scrap, yet to her indestructible muscle-melons felt like little more than a sensual massage. All the while, she consumed his ensnared gaze in starving silence. His fully-erect member stood disastrously close to her own womanhood, and her desire to tear off his shorts and plunge that monster within it was quicklying becoming untamable. But she held fast. She knew nothing would hurt that prideful primadonna more than having her man do that himself. And by the time she was finished, he would be begging her for a good fuck.
With an exasperated moan, she threw all she had left in the tank into one showstopping crab flex. A gust of moist air nearly knocked him over as her porcelain pecs burst forth with as much muscle and might as any teenage girl could ever muster. Her skin crackled and popped like an engine being revved as her chest redlined past her already mind boggling limits! All the while, her dainty chin sank beneath a storm surge of tit-flesh, the quivering masses of her beefy funbags overcoming the distance between predator and prey in cartoonish fashion!
Dan’s face was drained of all its color. This girl was simply not human. In an arms race that Michelle had seemingly won by throwing the kitchen sink, achieving a pump he had never thought possible, this upstart was pulling ahead in the final stretch! The oppressive heat radiating from the literal wall of muscle throbbing mere inches away was burning him alive. Yet, he dared not turn away.
Heather too was in awe of her own majesty. She had never felt—and surely never been—
bigger. She wouldn’t have believed it either, were it not for the stacks upon stacks of pectoral cleavage thrust in front of her face. And when she saw the dilated pupils, gaping mouth, and beads of rolling sweat on the boy in front, she knew victory was hers alone.
“How about you drop that tape and come feel me up?” Any pretenses of friendly competition had gone up in smoke. She was going to have his way with him tonight, and his former lover would have to watch!
“C’mon, big boy,” she goaded him on. The fact that he didn’t immediately throw himself at her meant there was still some thread of resistance that needed breaking. “I know both you
and your girl have wanted a piece of these since I popped my top on stage.” A spark of life suddenly flickered into his eyes as they darted back and forth in a panic.
“Oh, you didn’t think I knew?” she asked rhetorically, keenly recalling his frozen, disbelieving gaze amongst a crowd of otherwise rioting clubbers. “I’m a lot more perceptive than I look. Now…” she grabbed his hands, “don’t be shy. After all, it’s not every day you get to touch boobs as big as mine.”
Just before his fingertips could commit sin, a devilish laugh wafted from behind prodigious traps.
“I was wondering when you would join us,” Heather scoffed, turning around with Dan’s wrist still held hostage. “Done with your self-love already?”
“Well, when I hear you say something as ridiculous as that, what choice do I have?” Michelle wondered.
“Ridiculous? Which part?” she challenged, strolling up to her with Dan in tow and letting her still wildly overinflated pecs press against the brunette’s relaxed pair. “Surely not the part about my tits being bigger?” A shockingly cute grunt preceded another injection of beef, causing her pecs to pulse and thrust her diamond-hard nipples into the flesh of her apparently outmatched rival. Heather tittered as she seemed to wince in pain.
“Or maybe you think ‘
your man’ ogling me with all three of his eyes earlier today was just my imagination?” She blew a quick kiss at Dan. “Tell me Michelle,” she rasped. “Which part do you think is untrue?”
“Sorry…” the brunette’s grimace twisted into a grin, “but he’s not into flat girls!!!”
With a glass-shattering shriek, Heather’s titanic chest—and indeed her entire body—was suddenly forced back! A rogue wave of pure muscle crashed into and over her pecs like high tide against the shore, knocking her onto the ground with a great thud. When the humbled redhead looked up to see what had so casually brushed her aside, all she could do was let out a meek gasp. Two globes of dream-crushing she-beef rumbled with unstoppable power, blotting out the overhead lights and casting a shadow that threatened to absorb her entire being!
“...No…” she whimpered, shaking her head and averting her eyes as sweat fell like rain onto her face. She turned away to try and escape the torrent, but what she saw only made her more disheartened. Dan had been reduced to all fours, desperately trying to catch his breath as a pool of his own shame collected beneath him. His once mighty member—and her final shot at salvaging the night—was deflating before her very eyes.
“What… are you… waiting for?!!” the quaking monster hissed behind gritted teeth.
Dan was slow to respond at first, his eyes unable to maintain focus and his body struggling just to keep himself off the ground.
“Get that fucking tape around me
NOW!” Fear is a potent motivator. His body moved before his mind could react, standing up and stumbling towards his master. His eyes fluttered as her booming voice drew him closer. But once he realized the sight before him, his eyes nearly lept out of his skull. The once polite, well-spoken Michelle had transformed into a seething, all-consuming pec-beast! Those gentle, beautiful facial features he had come to love were now jailed by a supermax prison of egregiously mega-ripped muscle tits! Dan’s cock was at full attention once more just from gawking at the spectacle, but he held fast to complete his mission. He rested the tape across her huge nipples, each painfully swollen to the point of bursting. Then, he dragged the ends over the surface of those magnificent sex-spheres, marveling at the layers upon layers of striations that stretched as far as he could see and dug deep like trenches of an old battlefield. He snuck the tape underneath tremoring, barrel-sized biceps and crossed the ridgeline of her mountain range-spanning lats, gasping once he realized the 12 foot tape had nearly been consumed in its entirety! When they finally brought the ends together, he lost control.
“One…” his voice tapered off as his manhood sputtered into an already saturated pair of shorts. His knees wobbled and threatened to give out any moment.
“Hurry…” Her roar had turned into a whimper. She had already pushed herself well past her physical limits for the nth time tonight, and her heart was going to give out if she held this eye-popping flex any longer.
Recognizing her desperation, he mustered the last of his strength to keep himself upright and shout that number from the mountain tops, declaring once and for all who was Queen. “
One hundred… and… thirty… FIVE!!”
Michelle immediately collapsed, her weight flustering the floorboards and knocking the flabbergasted Dan back to the ground. Her stamina had dried up completely. All three participants of tonight’s contest were left breathless.
For several minutes, the only sounds that echoed through the room were that of heavy breathing and the subtle grinding of muscles against muscles as Michelle’s superfluous chest rose and fell. Then, suddenly, Heather broke her silence.
“We’re not done,” she said plainly.
Michelle chuckled weakly, peeking across pecs she could barely see over. “Yes… we are.”
“No, we’re not.” Heather steadied herself once more on both feet. “Don’t think you can just walk away from this with just one flex. Last I checked, there are more than just
two muscles.”
“I don’t give a shit, Heather,” she shot back as she too stood up. “And neither does he.” She leaned in close, and whispered, “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up,” loud enough for all to hear. With that, she helped him up towards the locker room.
“Hey, where are you… We’re not fucking done!” she yelled, her warning falling on deaf ears as the couple disappeared from her sight. Clenching her fists, she followed them.
