Tuesday, March 15, 2011


challenge 2: the thighmaster

            As the super girls were guided to the next area, their luscious physiques exhibited a noticeable pump.  Only one challenge in, their muscles were substantially larger and more defined.  Their already vascular bodies were far veinier than before, with wormy wads snaking across their masculine arms and pressing through their costumes.    
            The women arrived before what looked like three oversized wrecking balls – huge iron spheres each two stories tall.  The heroines were informed that the humongous objects were forged from molecularly-reinforced lead and weighted approximately 50 tons each, a mighty challenge for any super heroine to press.  But the girls weren't tasked with lifting the balls but rather crushing the massive spheres between their powerful thighs.  The fastest to shatter the core of their spheres, registered by a network of nanite sensors deep in the superstructure, would get a point. 
            Fairchild was hesitant to begin, embarrassed by the notion of spreading her legs before the eyes of the world.  Why the hell did her costume have to be a slutty dental-floss thong?  Wonder Woman had no such hesitations and lay down on her back, legs wide open in a perverted spread eagle.  A hush fell over the crowd, perhaps the entire planet as every eyeball and camera lens focused on the heart-stopping slip of micro-underwear stretched taunt across her juicy sex.  The tiny width of bikini bottom material left her swollen pussy lips bulging out on either side.  Even more shocking were the muscles packed between her legs - as hard and numerous as any other part of her body.   
            The other heroines joined her in position and opened their legs wide, their hot pussies offered up to the world.  It was an astonishing sight, the fantasy of every super villain who ever dreamt of capturing a beautiful heroine and having his way with her.
            As Fairchild wrapped her legs around her sphere, her slutty thong dug deep into her vagina.  She could feel it splitting her open, forcing her fat, wet lips apart.  The audience couldn't believe it - she really was 100% pure muscle everywhere.  Even the folds of her vagina were visibly striated, rippling with her movements.  What the hell kind of training was she doing - crushing iron dildos for reps?  Veins from all over her legs converged in the steroid orgy that was her perfectly shaved snatch. 
            She-Hulk's crotch was just as muscular and even more vascular.  Her sexual organs were a furious mishmash veiny sex-beef capable of crushing concrete.  The lips of her vagina looked like flexing biceps.      
            The women each gripped a set of steel hand-holds bolted to the floor.  Definition flared across their huge thighs as they prepared themselves.  Their faces were concentrated and focused. 
            The signal was given and it began.  Grunts escaped their lips as they squeezed with all of their might, the 3 iron spheres groaning loudly.  At first little happened.  The spheres were even tougher than they looked.  Clearly Luthor had built them to last.        
Wonder Woman flared her teeth, her generous lips rolling back and her golden brow wrinkling.  Ugly veins popped from her forehead as she ramped up the effort.  Her iron sphere snapped, crackled and popped like a 50-ton bowl of Rice Krispies - the effort inflating the Amazon's straining physique like a big-titted balloon.  Her thighs quickly doubled in size, the craggy, pulsing muscles in her legs simultaneously shrinking and expanding.  As her crotch muscles flared, her underwear was forced tighter and thinner, digging an inch into her sex like a g-string razorblade. 
            She-Hulk wasn't about to lose this one.  With a bassy roar, she threw her head back and squeezed with all her might.  Her neck ballooned to twice the thickness of her head and merged indistinguishably with her gorilla traps.  Her large breasts were hoisted high into the sky by the massively swelling pecs they were bolted to.   
            The sphere between She-Hulk's humongous thighs cracked suddenly, the noise like a shockwave across the arena.  But it wasn't enough - the core remained intact. 
            Fairchild's heart was pounding.  She was filling with fear and dread.  She was going to lose!  She was pathetic and weak!  Yet deep down, a part of her was getting excited, turned-on even.  She was proud of the body she had forged.  She’d spent every waking hour of the last eight months in the triple gravity gym, dedicated to pumping herself to the max, making herself as huge as possible.  Some nights she looked at her body in the mirror and didn't even recognize the rippling she-stud staring back at her.  It was her dirty, lustful dream to be the beefiest Hercules of them all - a freakish, androgynous muscleman with the strength of a thousand super heroines.  It was time to put her shyness and humiliation aside and show them what real muscles looked like.    
            Fairchild closed her eyes and grunted softly.  Her sensual lips quivered.  Veins tore through her temples.  It felt like torture, needles of pain stabbing her body, but the effect was jaw-dropping.  Her entire physique was suddenly shot full of adrenaline.  Every part of her began to transform, grow and morph into a some steroid-injected version of herself.  Her shoulders erupted, widening and doubling in size, vascularity surging uncontrollably.  Her huge breasts were pushed aside by mammoth pecs growing like continents, grossly out of place on a beautiful girl’s body. 
             The other women didn't notice Fairchild’s strides until her sphere suddenly cracked with the force of a sonic boom.  In one shot she jumped to the lead.  If she could keep up the pressure, she might actually win the challenge.     
Wonder Woman tightened her fists squeezing every muscle in her body into a furious state of flexation.  Screaming vascularity exploded through her arms and legs dropping jaws around the world.  Everyone knew Wonder Woman was beefcake - she'd been on the cover of a thousand bodybuilding magazines, done sexy calendars, even posed for Playboy.  She possessed one of the most muscular physiques in the world.  But no one had ever seen her push herself like this.  She was going nuclear, pumping herself up into an insane state of hyper-muscularity impossible for an ordinary woman.
            Wonder Woman's sphere cracked in 3 more places, the booming shockwave shaking the arena to the foundation.  Spectators were knocked off their feet spilling drinks and hotdogs.
            She-Hulk screamed in savage defiance.  Her neck flared even wider, looking like it could swallow her head.  Her pecs flexed so hard that they pressed against her chin.  Her giant tits rolled into her armpits like useless, floppy jelly orbs. 
            The cracks in She-Hulk's sphere deepened rapidly.  Her astonishingly shredded mega-thighs were car crushers squeezing the life out the giant lead ball.       
            But Wonder Woman would not be beaten - not by this green-skinned slut, not by a big-titted teenager, not by anybody.  She released her hands and slammed her fingers into the concrete ground, digging them an inch into the Earth.
            "Hera, give me strength!"  She screamed, eyes bugging wildly.  She crunched her abs, producing out an alien 12 pack that defied description.  With a deafening shriek, the sphere collapsed in on itself as if pulled tight by a giant belt.  The core shattered with megaton force, tearing up concrete in a wide circle around it.  The senor signalled the end of the round.  Wonder Woman was victorious for the second time.
            The crowd went crazy.  Odds updated on all the view screens, shooting Wonder Woman’s stats through the roof and dropping She-Hulk and Fairchild’s chances substantially. 
            Wonder Woman got to her feet, her quivering thighs absolutely dominated by a spider web of screaming arterial veins.  She was dripping sweat, her slutty costume soaked through and partly transparent.  Her gorgeous, tanned skin glistened like gold, amplifying her sadistic, eyeball-melting definition.  As she stood proudly before the crowd - her chest heaving from the monumental exertion - her ridiculous melons threatened to blow apart her bustier.  Her hugely enraged man-pecs added meaty inches to her already preposterous bust line.  It was abundantly clear that her physique was no longer that of Ms. Olympia but now a behemoth Mr. Olympia with tits.  She was a beefcake wet dream come to life.         
            Fairchild and She-Hulk got up slowly behind her.  They were equally sweaty and pumped, their costumes packed to the limit with swollen muscle meat.  Neither said a word but their worried faces spoke volumes.  The contest might be over a lot sooner than they expected.

Monday, March 14, 2011

More monster MONSTRA art!

Yet another Monstra piece appears!  Big apologies to the wonderful AYANAMIFAN for not posting this great bit of digital art sooner.  A few months back, Ayanamifan actually invited me to hang out with him online and watch him work on this image.  He's a cool guy with some great talent so be sure to check out his deviantart page here

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Monster MONSTRA art!

I meant to post this image months ago before taking my little "hiatus".  I'm not sure what to call it - a photo morph?  A digital drawing?  Whatever it is, artist GPFER's interpretation of Monstra is totally crazy and in my opinion, a grand slam home run!  I sometimes receive comments that the artwork I post doesn't quite match up (in terms of raw muscle mass) to what people imagine when they read my stories.  I don't think anyone will have that problem with this pic.  Check out more of GPFERS's art at his deviantart page here


Friday, March 11, 2011


challenge 1 - one vs one hundred

The question was simple: who was the strongest super heroine of them all?  Evil genius Lex Luthor had created 7 diabolical challenges designed to answer that question once and for all.  Invitations went out to the warrior women of the universe challenging them to test the limits of their legendary strength.  The winner of Luthor's super-strength showdown would receive 500 million dollars donated to the charity of her choice and universal bragging right as the most powerful champion of all. 
            Preliminary rounds eliminated dozens of contenders - Supergirl, Rogue, Ms. Marvel, She-Ra, Power Girl, She-Dragon.  When the dust settled, the three most powerful women were flown to a special arena to confront Luthor’s menacing machinations. 
            Competitor #1 was Wonder Woman, the legendary princess of Paradise Island.  As the Amazon entered the crowded stadium, it was easy to understand why the world revered her.  To see her in person was to have the air sucked from your lungs.  She was sex and power personified in a single sizzling package.   
            Wonder Woman’s famous red and blue costume was bursting at the seams with bulging bodybuilder muscles and x-rated curves.  She was staggeringly well-developed, easily matching  the biggest, most envelope-pushing Ms. Olympia while still retaining incredible sex appeal.  Her shoulders were broad and striated like pumpkins, her arms were stuffed with bulging baseballs framing a meaty back, narrow, boyish hips and rippling sprinter's legs.   
But bolted to the center of her chest was the Justice League heroine’s true claim to fame and the reason an entire generation of girls wanted basketball-sized implants for their 18th birthday: her eye-popping, bra-bursting, porn-star super-tits.  In a recent Maxim Magazine survey they'd been voted the greatest pair in history, beating Pam Anderson, Lara croft and Powergirl put together.  It wasn’t that Wonder Woman's tits were the biggest, the firmest or the most gravity defying – they were ALL of these things put together.  
With her over-stuffed bustier, 6-inch heels and Brazilian-cut bikini bottoms, Wonder Woman looked more like an inflatable sex toy than Earth’s proudest champion.  Most of her golden-tanned skin was naked including the majority of her well-muscled ass.  She seemed too proud to notice, oblivious to the lustful stares tracing her curves as she walked across the field.    
            The crowd was still gawking when the second competitor was announced - the sensational She-Hulk.  A hush fell over the audience, no small feat in a crowd of a hundred thousand people.  The reason was clear the moment the jade giantess took the field. 
At 7 feet tall and 300 pounds, She-Hulk was the biggest champion of them all.  She was even more muscular than Wonder Woman – closer to a male bodybuilder than a female.  Snarling veins crawled up her bulbous arms in wormy wads.  Her shoulders and back swelled alarmingly wide and as thick as a truck. 
But all the muscles in the world didn’t make She-Hulk any less of a babe.  Her purple and white unitard was stretched tight by a set of huge, basketball breasts.  They were even bigger than Wonder Woman’s, though on her dense frame they weren’t nearly as disproportionate.  Her blackish-green hair cascaded across huge, meaty shoulders framing her sizzling, super-model looks.      
            She-Hulk got the crowd cheering with a few explosive poses.  She had personality to spare and loved flexing for a crowd.  Even her light exertions gave beefcakes like Thor and Hercules a run for their money.  Her bulging physique was a crowd favourite and the air was soon charged with excitement.  Into this pandemonium emerged the third and final champion – Gen13’s Caitlin Fairchild. 
            The shy red-head walked into the arena beneath a stunned crowd.  Everyone knew Fairchild was a bruiser - she had proven herself in battle time and time again, but the teen hard body was still considered a junior-league heroine.  Certainly she'd be outmatched against beefcakes like She-Hulk and Wonder Woman.  That was until the crowd got a look at Fairchild's bodacious body and it all started to click
            Caitlin's green and purple costume was stretched across an astonishingly pumped-up, contest-ready physique.  Clearly someone had been putting in the time at Reed Richard’s heavy gravity hyper-gym.  Membrane-thin spandex clung to her beefy boulder-shoulders and heaving upper body, including a mind-blowing set of tits that came close to out-doing Wonder Woman’s stupendous watermelons.  Fairchild had grown up, and then some. 
            As the eyes of the world groped Fairchild's incredible body, a self-conscious blush colored her face.  She was uncomfortable with how sexy she was, how her jagged abs and melon-sized biceps could turn on a crowd.  As she bent over to tighten her boot straps, her shrunken, striated glutes flared like harp strings.  The entire stadium gasped at once.  No one had ever seen an ass so shredded, so carved from marble.  Veins squirmed out of the thong jammed up her butt crack.  Maybe, just maybe she'd stand a chance after all. 
            With the line-up revealed, who would prove themselves the supreme warrior, the biggest and baddest of them all?  The stadium monitors presented a rundown of mathematical odds to the crowd.  Betting was rampant. 
            Wonder Woman held a clear numerical advantage.  Based on historical data from thousands of battles, she was favoured to win by a wide margin.
            Caitlin Fairchild had clearly arrived in the best shape of her life but Luthor's data rated her on past combat.  As a result she came out on the bottom - the weakest of the three girls.
            She-Hulk was the wild card.  If it had been a simple bodybuilding contest, she would've been the favourite.  Based on her past battles, she was second to Wonder Woman, though she had been known to fly into fits of gamma rage that boosted her strength considerably.  It made calculating her power nearly impossible and left a big question mark over her name.
CHALLENGE 01: ONE VS ONE HUNDRED                    
            The three gladiators were lead to the start of the competition.  The first challenge one was a tug-of-war pitting each lone heroine against 100 male bodybuilders.  The fastest to achieve victory would score a point.
            As the girls waited to start, Fairchild turned to the others.
            "I just wanted to wish you both luck," She smiled, her youthful face beaming enthusiasm.  "May the best woman win!"
            Wonder Woman's expression remained carved in stone.  "This is a battle for warriors, not children."  She answered.  Fairchild's face wrinkled.
            "Sorry, cutie."  She-Hulk added.  "I'm not here to make friends either.  Frankly, you two don't stand a chance."   
            Fairchild was called up first.  Now she was really nervous.  The other heroines were so confident, so powerful.  Did she really have what it takes to beat them?
            A Kevlar-weaved titanium chain lay on the ground before her.  A water-filled moat divided her and the men.  The 100 strongmen were already in position, the heavy chain tight in their hands.  It was a ridiculous sight - one big-chested bimbo against an army of sweaty, shirtless muscle men. 
            The beautiful do-gooder picked-up the chain and wrapped in around her wrists.  Intimidating masses of muscle surged through her sinewy forearms, veins popping and curling.  She squeezed hard and the chain suddenly shattered in her hands. 
            "I-I'm sorry!"  She shouted innocently. 
            A time-out was called while a sturdier chain was brought in.  Once it was ready, a buzzer sounded and the contest began. 
            The men roared and pulled with their combined might.  To her surprise, Fairchild was yanked forward and almost lost her balance.  She quickly dug in her heels and stopped their momentum.
            The men were a sweaty, shouting mass of muscles trying to budge the immovable woman.  Amazingly, their combined muscularity seemed puny before Fairchild's rapidly swelling back.  Muscles flared madly across her wide lats, testing the width of her costume.  Her biceps tightened into frightening muscle-melons full of roiling, wormy veins popping sharply as she applied her strength.
            With one hand after another, Fairchild easily pulled the men forward.  They were powerless to stop her and succumbed to the rippling muscle-girl seconds later.  The official time was 25 seconds.  Fairchild let out a sigh of relief and a half smile. 
            She-Hulk was up next.  100 fresh bodybuilders replaced the exhausted first set.  They glared at her with determination. 
            She-Hulk picked up the chain and gripped it hard.  Her scandalously thin costume framed every rocky muscle in her Roman column arms.  Her shoulders tightened into clearly delineated blades of puffy girl-beef. 
            The buzzer sounded and the men went nuts.  They might as well have been trying to pull down a bomb shelter.  She-Hulk smiled, veins curling along her temples and yanked the entire line-up of men back several feet at a time.  It only took a half-dozen wrenches of the chain to win the match.  Her official time: 15 seconds.
            She-Hulk shot Fairchild a snide look. 
            "Maybe you should go home before you embarrass yourself."  She laughed.
            Finally, Wonder Woman took up the chain and leaned forward.  Heaving mounds of coppery-tanned cleavage ballooned out of her bustier.  It was almost distracting enough to miss the brutal striations digging through her shoulders and back.  Veins surged across her swelling muscles as she tightened her death grip on the chains.
            100 new men took hold of the chain, grunting and screaming in anticipation.  Wonder Woman's face was coldly focused. 
            As soon as the buzzer sounded, Wonder Woman pulled with a terrifying roar.  All 100 men were launched into the air like they were fired out of a cannon.  They crashed down one on top of another in a bone-breaking pile right in front of the Amazon.
            The crowd went wild.  Both Fairchild and She-Hulk couldn't believe their eyes. 
            Wonder Woman's official time came up on the TV screens - 3 seconds.  She was the winner of the first challenge.  Studying her stoic face, Caitlin wondered if she took pleasure in anything.  In truth, Wonder Woman was every bit a warrior.  She desired one thing and one thing only: victory.