MUSCLE MACHINE

HARDBODY - chapter 11 (fan version)

2012-01-13T16:22:00.000-05:00

Italian reader SHIRI CLOD contacted my a while back and asked to take a crack at a Hardbody story. A few months later, Shiri's Italian language take on Hardbody Chapter 11 arrived. Together we attempted to translate the story into English, but the reality was it required a near total rewrite (due to the translation, not the writing quality). From what I can tell the story is excellent and we've chosen to post it in it's original form so than any Italian readers can enjoy it. If others are interested, we can also post the Google-translated English version, though I warn you, it's a difficult read. Let us know your thoughts in the comments section below. As to where this leaves the Mr.Shhh version of Hardbody 11 - I've got a lot of the chapter done, which differs to Shiri's story in a few key ways but has the same general spirit. I don't feel it will devalue Shiri's take, so I'll post it when it's done.

Hardbody

Capitolo 11 – Estasi

By Shiri Clod

Arrivò il giorno che Linus attendeva con ansia. Finalmente avrebbe potuto incoronare il suo sogno di assistere ad una sessione di allenamento intenso di Jenna. E lui avrebbe avuto il privilegio di filmarla. Nell’ultima settimana avevano vissuto a stretto contatto per preparare il necessario. Voleva aiutare la sua amata a tutti i costi, anche se questo sarebbe significato riavvicinarla ad Ed. Per Jenna la felicità consisteva nell’entrare nel vestito che quello spaccone le aveva dato per il ballo? Stava bene, il dopo non sarebbe importato. L’importante era lei, stare con lei, godere della sua maestosa presenza. La sua bella aveva bisogno di una mano: le servivano soldi per i nuovi pesi e lui aveva l’idea giusta.

Linus percorreva la strada, ormai familiare, che lo avrebbe condotto a casa degli Steel. Era solo. Jenna aveva fatto solo una fugace apparizione a scuola: nella sua mente c’era spazio solo per i pesi, l’allenamento interminabile fino a tarda notte e i suoi muscoli d’acciaio. Non glielo aveva mai chiesto, ma sospettava che della scuola non le importasse più un accidente. Rimaneva solo l’ossessione verso il suo corpo; dopotutto, la scritta sulla sua cartella era inequivocabile: “Voglio diventare enorme”. Si, voleva assolutamente diventare enorme. Era sempre stata questa la sua bramosia più grande, ma ora c’era dell’altro: voleva irrobustirsi per poter indossare quel dannato vestito. Ed, il bullo che si prendeva gioco di lui: un altro motivo per odiarlo. Non poteva permettere che lei soffrisse in una maniera così atroce per quella feccia che non la meritava. Certo, lui adorava i suoi muscoli giganteschi, tutta quella potenza che sembrava emanasse ogni volta che la vedeva. Oh si, anche lui era completamente incantato dai muscoli di Jenna. Ma, a differenza di Ed, la sua era ammirazione incondizionata… e amore. Ed era solo un sadico belloccio, fisico da quarterback e cervello sottosviluppato. Tipico ragazzetto stereotipato che ha raggiunto l’apice della sua vita ancora prima dei vent’anni. Purtroppo, era anche colui che aveva tra le mani il cuore di Jenna.

Ancora poche villette e sarebbe arrivato a destinazione. L’immaginazione galoppò selvaggia lungo tutti i momenti significativi della settimana appena trascorsa. In ogni brandello di memoria c’era sempre Jenna. E ogni volta sembrava sempre più grande. In quello scantinato, la sua ombra era sempre più vasta ogni giorno che passava. Una settimana che aveva lasciato il segno. All’inizio Jenna era sempre nervosa alla presenza di Linus, ma pian piano la timidezza aveva ceduto il passo e la bella sollevatrice di pesi si era aperta sempre di più al dialogo con il ragazzo. Lentamente, la giovane aveva trovato in lui un confidente. Le raccontava di tutto: del rapporto praticamente inesistente con lo zio, della sua infatuazione per Edward Scott, degli scherzi e delle angherie che ogni giorno aveva dovuto sopportare, di come il disgusto della gente le dava la carica per dare sempre il massimo, di quell’umiliante giornata al centro commerciale quando Lacey le prese le misure. Infine, raccontò con una punta d’orgoglio, il suo leggendario duello con Dawn.

“Oddio, non ci credo! – aveva esclamato Linus, stupito - Hai fatto a braccio di ferro con la ragazza più forte del mondo e sei riuscita a tenerle testa?!?”.

“Certo, – rispose lei con soddisfazione - dovresti vedere la tua faccia! Anche Ed è rimasto a bocca aperta quando l’ha saputo!”. Detto questo gonfiò leggermente il bicipite, che si ingigantì ricoprendosi di vene, causando uno strappo nella vecchia maglietta che Jenna indossava. Linus ammutolì e cercò di nascondere ciò che stava accadendo nei suoi pantaloni.

“Devo complimentarmi con te, Linus White – fece Jenna con voce scherzosa - Sei una delle poche persone che riesce non sviene quando scateno i miei cuccioli” ed esplose in una fresca risata. Linus l’aveva imitata, ma senza troppa convinzione: non gli era sfuggito quel velato riferimento ad Ed.

Linus aveva predisposto tutto: per prima cosa aveva creato un blog, “Jenna, Avatar della Potenza”. Aveva caricato la foto che Jenna gli aveva dato, anche se non le rendeva per niente giustizia. In confronto alla sua condizione attuale, quella della fotografia sembrava una bimba. Ma almeno non avrebbe spaventato troppo gli utenti più ignari. Nella pagina principale troneggiava una didascalia a caratteri cubitali: “Iscrivetevi all’area riservata per vedere una delle mie estenuanti sedute dal vivo”. Sotto, un’ammiccante immagine animata indicava il bottone “vieni a scoprire la vera me”; di fianco, un display segnava un conto alla rovescia. L’iscrizione era a pagamento: grazie agli introiti, Jenna sarebbe stata in grado di procurarsi tutto l’equipaggiamento che desiderava. L’affluenza iniziale aveva permesso alla giovane di mettere da parte qualcosa per preparare lo spettacolo. Luci e faretti professionali ma soprattutto pesi, molti pesi. E il suo corpo era già cresciuto molto. Ormai era diventata troppo forte e i bilancieri che già possedeva non le bastavano più: riusciva a sollevarli tutti senza sforzo. Aveva bisogno di qualcosa di più grosso, di più impegnativo. E ora aveva tutto ciò di cui aveva bisogno.

“Andando avanti di questo passo potresti mantenerti con questi spettacoli in rete” suggerì Linus. Jenna, colta alla sprovvista, era arrossita. Ricompostasi in un attimo, gli rispose con voce molto femminile: “Se fosse, vorrei che tu diventassi il mio agente”.

Il ragazzo aveva curato perfino il profilo di Facebook della giovane body builder; prima del suo intervento, l’account di Jenna giaceva in uno stato di semi abbandono: a parte la foto del profilo che metteva in risalto il suo splendido viso, la bacheca era intasata dai peggiori insulti. Il giovane nerd aveva ripulito tutto, caricando nuove foto che la ritraevano in tutto il suo splendore. Tutte foto di cui Linus aveva fatto una coppia nella sua chiavetta... In bacheca aveva postato già da una settimana l’evento “Jenna live cam show”. Inutile dirlo, nello spazio per i commenti erano volati altri insulti; eppure le conferme di partecipazione aumentavano ogni giorno. Meglio così. Lo spettacolo stava per cominciare.

Jenna se ne stava nello scantinato, impaziente. Il suo amico sarebbe giunto a momenti. Linus aveva già predisposto l’attrezzatura e allestito il set: tutto quello spostare le sue cose l’aveva scocciata un poco. “Tutto tempo perso nel quale avrei potuto allenarmi” aveva pensato. Non riusciva a capire quanto quel circo mediatico l’avrebbe potuta aiutare, ma ad ogni modo si fidava di Linus. Quel piccolo ragazzetto. Provava affetto e riconoscenza per lui: a scuola si erano sempre parlati poco ed era un peccato. Lui la capiva al volo, l’ascoltava e la faceva ridere. Una persona interessante: un vero peccato che le persone interessanti siano sempre anche le più impopolari a scuola. Con la sua empatia sarebbe sicuramente diventato ciò di cui ogni ragazza ha bisogno. Ma le ragazze - e Jenna lo sapeva bene - hanno in mente solo frivolezze. Lei non faceva differenza, purtroppo. La sua smodata passione per i suoi muscoli ne era la prova: anche lei, come tutte, si preoccupava delle apparenze, seppur in maniera diametralmente opposta . Però lei aveva visto in fondo all’anima di Linus… No, era diverso. Loro due si assomigliavano moltissimo: impopolari, timidi, presi di mira da tutti. Il suo fare da secchione certo non lo aiutava. Ma almeno un lato positivo c’era: si erano conosciuti e Jenna sarebbe stata eternamente grata per questo incontro. Linus insisteva per non voler nulla in cambio, ma la ragazza era decisa a ricambiare il favore, un giorno o l’altro. “Rendere felice una bella ragazza come te per me è sufficiente” aveva detto quel giorno in cui era piombato nello scantinato rischiando di rompersi l’osso del collo. Al ricordo del piccolo nerd spaventato e mortificato, Jenna sentì un sorriso incresparsi sul suo volto: “Che buffo…”. Improvvisamente, Jenna ritornò sulla Terra sussultando al suono del campanello.

“Linus, finalmente! Entra presto, è quasi l’ora!” disse la montagna di muscoli. Linus rispose al caloroso saluto della sua ospite. Cercava di contenere il suo eccitamento: la ragazza dei suoi sogni stava per mostrarsi in tutta la sua gloria.

“Ci siamo Jenna. Tre, due, uno, via!”. La giovane montagna di muscoli si aggiustò nervosamente gli occhiali e guardò l’obiettivo: “Ciao a tutti, sono Jenna – l’agitazione traspariva dalla sua voce -. Di me avete visto soltanto vecchie fotografie. Ora scoprirete la mia vera potenza”. Detto questo fletté entrambe le braccia mettendo in mostra i suoi giganteschi bicipiti, che si gonfiarono in un baleno. Ancora non si stava impegnando, ma dentro di sé sapeva che chiunque fosse collegato al suo blog era rimasto a bocca aperta: l’espressione di Linus parlava chiaro. Una lieve sensazione di piacere si insinuò nelle sue mutandine… Si ricompose subito. Era il momento di sollevare quei due ammassi di pesi attaccati al bilanciere. Jenna si preparò a sistemarsi sotto di esso. La sensazione di piacere non accennava a fermarsi. Lo spettacolo si faceva solo un po’ aspettare. Jenna ci impiegò più del previsto a sdraiarsi: stava diventando davvero enorme e la scoperta la lusingò non poco.

“Ancora di più …” sussurrò a mezza bocca.

Finalmente, afferrò saldamente il bilanciere e cominciò a concentrarsi. Dopo un momento, iniziò. Linus, dietro alla telecamera poté osservare l’enorme mole di pesi alzarsi e abbassarsi con ritmo costante, mentre la bodybuilder non emetteva un solo gemito. Dalla sua posizione faticava a vederla in volto, seminascosto dal suo enorme petto. Il suo corpo aveva già cominciato a produrre nuova massa. Lentamente, spostò l’occhio della telecamera, avido di una vista migliore. Jenna era eccitata come non mai: sollevava il suo nuovo bilanciere colossale di primo impeto. La sua fame di muscoli non era mai stata così forte e bruciante, si sentiva piena di energia e determinata a tutto. I muscoli, la sua vita. Avvertiva i bicipiti irrobustirsi a dismisura, così come ogni singola parte del suo corpo. Le vene correvano selvaggiamente in ogni direzione. A risentirne erano i suoi vestiti, che stavano lottando disperatamente per non strapparsi. Stava crescendo a vista d’occhio, le sembrava che la sua stessa pelle si stesse ribellando.

“Che goduria” pensò tra sé.

La frenesia cresceva a ritmo esponenziale di pari passo con l’adrenalina che si abbatteva come un fiume in piena tra le membra della ragazza. Il suo corpo rispondeva sempre più ad ogni ripetizione. Una sinfonia di muscoli che si abbattevano sugli ultimi brandelli di una femminilità che lottava disperatamente per non scomparire sotto tutto quel testosterone.

Unico limite erano i pesi: grandi come due Mini, così dannatamente pesanti. Più di quanto non avesse mai sollevato finora. Jenna viveva per queste sfide. Il suo sorriso era già svanito: digrignava i denti arricciando le labbra. Quelle labbra così carnose e sexy, così femminili. A dir il vero, ormai erano una delle poche tracce della sua femminilità.

“Ora è il momento di fare sul serio” pensò la giovane piena di determinazione.

Aumentò improvvisamente il ritmo delle ripetizioni. Le montagne di pesi si alzavano e si abbassavano sempre più velocemente. E il suo corpo cresceva sempre di più. Il sangue veniva pompato insieme all’adrenalina con furia sempre maggiore: vene, vene ovunque. Correvano lungo il corpo martoriato di Jenna, selvaggi predatori pronti a stritolarla. Il suo petto, privo di ogni forma rotonda e femminile, che già da tempo era diventato qualcosa che andava al di là dell’umano, sembrava incontrollabile. Ogni secondo che passava si evolveva, inarrestabile. E poi, i bicipiti: immensi, incontenibili. Potevano essere descritti solo con due parole: potenza pura. Il suo corpo sembrava scosso dallo stesso violento terremoto che aveva innalzato l’Himalaya.

“Jenna, amore mio, sei davvero un Avatar” sussurrò Linus a mezza voce toccandosi i pantaloni.

La titanessa non l’aveva sentito. Troppo immersa nel suo esercizio, nella sua dimostrazione di forza. Nella sua testa c’era posto solo per il bilanciere, il suo corpo… e il dolore. Quel dolore così sensuale che voleva dire nuova massa. Un nuovo obiettivo da polverizzare, tonnellata dopo tonnellata, con fame e determinazione infiniti.

Poi, il ritmo delle ripetizioni iniziò a calare, Jenna cominciava ad avvertire per davvero la fatica. Dopotutto anche lei aveva un limite. Forse questa volta aveva chiesto troppo da sé stessa. No, questo non poteva accettarlo così semplicemente, non senza lottare. Il suo corpo poteva permettersi il lusso di vacillare, ma soltanto per un momento. Ma la sua indomita volontà e la sua insaziabile fame di muscoli, quelle no.

La giovane si ritirò dentro il proprio io per cercare nuova concentrazione, poi esplose in un urlo disumano: “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWGRRRRRRRRRH!!”. Il bilanciere iniziò a sollevarsi ed abbassarsi sempre più velocemente. La vecchia maglietta che Jenna indossava venne spazzata via dalla sua furia crescente. I suoi pettorali stavano esplodendo, travolgendola in un’alluvione di muscoli: Linus temette che potesse morire soffocata dalle sue tette granitiche, strangolata da un’invasione di vene. Fortunatamente, pochi istanti dopo si svilupparono anche i trapezi e le spalle, enormi e possenti, così che Jenna potesse tornare a respirare. Ogni parte del corpo della giovane dea dei muscoli era in continuo divenire sotto l’impulso di quell’infernale allenamento. Gli addominali continuavano a protendersi verso l’altro mentre polpacci e cosce si espandevano senza tregua. Una furia selvaggia le illuminava il volto.

Linus non sapeva se essere più eccitato o più preoccupato. Avvertiva il respiro affannoso e graffiante della sua bella: sembrava che fosse già in iperventilazione. Di una cosa era certo: non si sarebbe mai fermata, avrebbe preferito autodistruggersi piuttosto che non centrare il suo scopo. Anche a costo di ignorare l’agonia che stava provando. Linus avrebbe voluto fare qualcosa, qualsiasi cosa per lei. Ora Jenna era sola con sé stessa. E non c’era niente di più pericoloso per lei: non conosceva il senso del limite. Una belva selvaggia che rispondeva soltanto ai suoi impulsi più primitivi.

Il clangore del metallo era preoccupante: c’era da sperare che la panca reggesse tutto quel peso e che il bilanciere riuscisse a sopportare tutte quelle sollecitazioni.

“Non ho tempo per questi dettagli” pensava Jenna, mentre intensificava il ritmo dei sollevamenti.

Muscoli, muscoli, muscoli. Una crescita inarrestabile, sublime e terribile. Non riusciva a concepire altro che il suo corpo. Ricordava a malapena della presenza di Linus nella stanza, mentre aveva completamente scordato il suo spettacolo via webcam. Aveva perso anche la cognizione del tempo: forse era passata mezz’ora, ma non ne poteva essere sicura. Le sembrava di essere sdraiata da molto più tempo… meglio non pensarci.

Ancora una volta, la giovane forza della Natura si scoprì stanca. Si sentiva fortissima ed enorme, ma non riusciva a capire quanta massa avesse prodotto. Riusciva ad avere una visione parziale dei suoi smodati bicipiti e per quanto questa fosse celestiale ed eccitante, non riusciva ad avere una visuale completa. Alzò disperata gli occhi al cielo, avida di sapere e, sorpresa! Il suo specchio era appeso al soffitto, proprio sopra di lei.

“Linus…” sussurrò incredula e divertita, increspando un sorriso che assomigliava terribilmente ad una smorfia di dolore.

L’immagine che le veniva restituita la inondò di sensazioni: dentro le sue mutandine provava un orgasmo continuo. Il suo fisico era così spesso, imponente, irresistibile. Nonostante la distanza favorisse la prospettiva, non riusciva a specchiarsi completamente. Ancora una volta si era spinta oltre, al di là di ogni limite. Sicuramente il vestito da elefante di Ed le sarebbe stato stretto: era diventata mastodontica. Ma la sua fame era ben lungi dall’essere placata.

“Più… g-grossa!!” sentenziò, obbligando il suo corpo già stremato e tremante a nuove ripetizioni. Era pervasa da una nuova, disperata energia. Ma questa volta la panca cedette. Jenna cadde rovinosamente a terra, mentre i pesi si ripiegavano sotto il loro stesso peso, spezzando la barra di metallo, coprendo il corpo della bodybuilder.

“Jenna!!” gridò Linus, temendo il peggio.

Si avventò sulle macerie cercando di aiutare la sua amica. Tentò di rimuovere gli enormi dischi, ma niente, erano troppo per lui. Improvvisamente il silenzio venne squarciato da un urlo primordiale. Linus venne sbalzato indietro, mentre Jenna emergeva trionfante dalle macerie, ansimando come un barbaro. Immensa come non mai. Un’orgia di muscoli giganteschi.

La giovane cercò con lo sguardo la telecamera.

“Dawn… - disse con un filo di voce dopo averla individuata – Dawn…, ecco una risposta al dilemma irrisolvibile… una forza irrefrenabile contro un oggetto inamovibile… Basta che la forza si alleni più seriamente! Guarda… il mio… splendido… corpo: sono talmente grossa che l’Incredibile Hulk potrebbe essere il mio action figure!”. La titanessa sembrava sul punto di cedere, ma trovò la forza di parlare nuovamente: “Un’ultima cosa. Ed… se mi stai… guardando… beh, fottiti”.

Mentre Jenna ancora faticava a riprendersi, Linus corse a ripararsi dietro il computer, troppo eccitato per stare di fronte a lei. Spense la webcam e controllò le statistiche del sito.

“J-Jenna…” la sua voce tradiva la sua emozione.

“Uh?”

“Trenta minuti di permanenza media nel sito, più di duemila accessi unici. Ragazza… sei… sei ricca!!”.

“Ho ancora energie… per un piccolo regalo per te…” sembrava che la notizia non le fosse importata più di tanto. Le ultime parole avevano risvegliato tutta la curiosità del piccolo nerd.

La montagna di testosterone che rispondeva al nome di Jenna Steel alzò con fatica un telo enorme che nascondeva una piccola pedana e… un nuovo bilanciere. Molto più grosso del precedente, alto quasi quanto Jenna. Linus rimase a bocca aperta: “A-Ancora?!?”.

“Vivo per i muscoli, lo sai. Sono una bestia. Niente mi soddisfa completamente, anche se ormai sono la più grossa. Voglio crescere ancora di più. Ne voglio ancora di più. Nessun limite. E a te piace, inutile negarlo”. Mentre parlava, Jenna salì sulla pedana: ora la barra del bilanciere le arrivava alle caviglie. “Preparati al più potente deadlift del mondo!”

Improvvisamente Jenna iniziò l’esercizio. Le ripetizioni si susseguivano a velocità pazzesca, mentre gli schianti metallici assordavano lo stupefatto ragazzo. Nuova massa stava trasformando il corpo della sua amata. Proprio come quella volta. Sembrava un animale, come quando era scoppiata a piangere davanti ad Ed. Potente come un’alluvione? Troppo riduttivo. Sembrava uno tsunami. Gli enormi muscoli della giovane crebbero ancora in massa e potenza. Al di là dell’inumano, molto più in alto bel bestiale. Jenna non aveva davvero limiti. Sembrava un essere uscito dall’era mitologica, una creatura ancestrale, una vera incarnazione della Potenza. Era talmente immensa di risultare indescrivibile.

Dopo tre interminabili minuti di torture furiose, Jenna lasciò cadere i pesi e collassò a terra, il suo corpo mastodontico che tremava tra le convulsioni. L’intera casa sussultò con violenza. Linus fu su di lei, cercando di calmare quell’ammasso di carne che aveva toccato proporzioni bibliche sudato e febbricitante. Mentre le inumidiva quelle labbra succulenti con un po’ d’acqua, avvertì l’odore della sua eccitante biancheria. Senza nemmeno pensarci, si protese verso il suo viso…

Jenna rinvenne proprio mentre Linus la baciava a fior di labbra.

“Cosa stai facendo?!” gridò con la sua voce così femminile.

“Scusami…” Linus si ritrasse subito.

“Cosa stavi facendo? Perché mi hai baciata?”. Era furiosa.

“Scusa, è stato un incidente…”

“Un incidente?! Io sto con Ed, lo sai! Volevi approfittarti di me?”

“Non lo farei mai! Sai cosa provo per te… Prima l’hai sfanculato in diretta…”

“Hai rovinato tutto! Perché l’hai fatto? Mi fidavo di te!”

“Dai, non fare così…”

“Dovevo lasciare che Ed ti desse quello che ti meritavi…”

Improvvisamente, Linus venne assalito dalla paura. Sapeva che non avrebbe potuto opporre resistenza a Jenna. Quindi si voltò e si mise a correre. Sperava di poter fuggire dalla sua amica, contando sul fatto che era esausta. In pochi attimi era salito sulle scale e si apprestava ad uscire. Fu investito da una violenta scossa di terremoto, che lo mandò a gambe all’aria. Non era stato il terremoto: Jenna con un salto aveva sfondato il tetto dello scantinato ed era li, di fronte a lui. Digrignava i denti, i capelli sciolti le ricadevano alla rinfusa sulle spalle. Era bellissima e superba, come una dea. Mentre lei stringeva i pugni, lui si ricordò che doveva mettere in salvo la pelle. Con uno scatto si rimise in piedi e continuò la sua corsa disperata al piano superiore. Nonostante la stanchezza, Jenna le era superiore: si avventò con furia su di lui. Aveva preso però troppo slancio e insieme sfondarono il muro del corridoio. Atterrarono nella sua camera da letto.

Linus aveva smesso di lottare e chiuse gli occhi, rassegnato. Si aspettava di essere sbriciolato da un momento all’altro. Invece ricevette un bacio da un paio di enormi labbra soffici e carnose. D’instinto aprì gli occhi: la sua dea lo guardava piena di desiderio.

“Perdonami mio dolce Linus… - gli sussurrò continuando a baciarlo - sono confusa… ero confusa. Non chiedermi nulla, non lo capisco bene nemmeno io. Ma so che ti amo. L’ho capito proprio ora. Voglio essere posseduta da te. Fottimi Linus, fottimi”.

Furono ore indimenticabili per quel debole ragazzetto che aveva appena coronato il suo sogno. Si era finalmente unito più e più volte con la sua più grande fantasia erotica. Un rapporto dolce fatto di tenerezza. E di vigore. Incontenibile vigore. Sembrava che tutti quei muscoli avessero aumentato anche l’appetito sessuale di Jenna: anche a letto la titanessa era insaziabile. Linus uscì completamente prosciugato da quella prova di resistenza.

“Essere una cosa sola con te... questo è il giorno più felice della mia vita” sussurrò lui non appena ebbe riacquistato la forza necessaria per parlare.

Mentre lui non riusciva più a muoversi, la sua donna lo cullava flettendo e rilassando gentilmente il suo enorme corpo. Mentre Linus si godeva il massaggio, l’Avatar della Potenza ammirò ancora una volta il suo colossale bicipite: l’orgoglio e il piacere si mescolarono nuovamente dentro di lei.

“Oggi è stato facile deliziarmi, ero già esausta – disse Jenna con voce sensuale -. Da domani, amore mio, dovrai nuovamente concederti a me con tutto il tuo vigore. Come sai non mi sazio facilmente. Dopotutto io non ho limiti”.

WHAT'S WHAT ON MUSCLE MACHINE: THE SEQUEL - This time it's personal!

2012-01-06T16:14:00.004-05:00

Hey all, Mr.Shhh here back from the shadowy ether of real life. Given the length of time since my last update, I wanted to drop everyone a line and update the status of this site. While I've been procrastinating like a madman, a couple of actually productive writers have been in touch with me and pitched their own take on my ongoing stories. I know a good idea when I hear one, so I've taken them up on their offers. First up is writer up2nogd1, who's awesome contribution to the Super Strength Showdown series has just been posted below.

As for myself, I endeavor to finish something and get it posted, but we all know I'm a dirty liar so I can't promise when that'll be. As a consolation, here's a new piece of art by Female Muscle Factory that I found in the wild.

THE SUPER STRENGTH SHOWDOWN - challenge 4

2012-01-06T15:42:00.002-05:00

One of the best parts of this blog are the enthusiastic people I've met who share my passion for outrageous female muscle fiction. This past summer I was contacted by deviantART writer up2nogd1, who had some great ideas for the Super Strength Showdown series. After a few months of back and forth emails, the man delivered what can only be described as a truly EPIC 4th chapter of his own creation. If you enjoy this take on the ongoing battle of the biggest, buffest heroines, be sure to check out the rest of his writing at http://up2nogd1.deviantart.com/ Enjoy!

THE SUPER-STRENGTH SHOWDOWN

Challenge 4: The Bicep Blaster

The exhausted superwomen slowly rose up; brushing the sand off their sweat soaked bodies as several horrified men gathered around them. The weary, beautiful heroines lumbered forward like grotesquely muscled zombies toward the teleportation area. Each woman breathed heavily, their uniforms succumbing to their ridiculous muscle expansions. They climbed into the chamber and were teleported to the next challenge. Wonder Woman ripped off the ruined boots and kicked them unceremoniously to the side, exposing her vein engorged ham-hock calves, still twitching from the last challenge. Fairchild ripped off her sleeves, exposing fully her monstrously expanded forearms, triceps thicker than Clydesdale’s hoofs and rippling biceps engorged a foot thick. She looked down at her freakishly striated pectoral shelf and her exposed breasts and sighing, grabbed a fistful of rags hanging at her steel belted abs and tied the strips of material around her neck to vainly cover the center of each breast. Wonder Woman chuckled a bit at Caitlin’s problem while She-Hulk grunted. She-Hulk’s suit, designed to withstand her perchance for additional growth was the only one still intact - although with a physique now nearly rivaling her cousin - was at its limit, stretched paper thin across muscles expanded larger than Wonder Woman’s, but her chagrin, barely larger than Fairchild’s. How could she be losing to either of these two, much less this upstart teenager?

As they reached the next location, the doors opened automatically and the tired but determined contestants walked out. Barely recovered from their most recent challenge, each woman’s physique had hardly receded at all. The cameras zoomed in on their sweaty outfits; ripped, torn, or see-through and their vein engorged muscles, still pumped to incredible levels. Their legs were jacked up to preposterous degrees of massiveness to the point that their inner thighs were all rubbing. Their quads were insanely separated mounds of ripped beef and their calves were all distended balls of writhing power. Even more pronounced were their backs, shoulders, traps and pectorals, pushing each costume to the limit, and in Fairchild’s case, already beyond.

As the three she-beasts reached the check-in station, the frightened administrator indicated the next challenge. As the explanation continued, Fairchild’s eyes widened, She-Hulk grimaced and Wonder Woman furrowed her brow. This was more than just a challenge - this was a torture device! If they gave up or could not maintain their concentration, this event could very well rip them apart!

Their eyes now gravitated outward to the Grand Canyon and the gigantic sadistic device staring back at them. Two massive adamantium-laced beams were embedded deep into either side of a nearly mile-wide expanse. Large gears and ratchets were attached to ten 747s on either side. Each aircraft was loaded up and weighed a million pounds. Two massive adamantium chains from the beams and gears led to a stand in the center. The stand connected to a long walkway reaching to the edge of the canyon where they stood. The stand was connected to the walkway on a hinge and would drop once the contestant gave the signal. At the start, one 747 on each side would be attached. The woman, hanging in the air with her arms outstretched, would not just have to withstand the pull against them, but would have to curl both airplanes. Worse yet, after the first curl, the next aircraft on either side would be ratcheted in. This would continue until 10 curls were completed, the last requiring a 10 million pound curl with each arm! A time limit of 10 minutes would be set. The contestant with the most curls in the least amount of time would win the point.

Caitlin and She-Hulk continued to stare, momentarily unsure if this contest was worth getting torn in half for. Wonder Woman looked at them, sniffed and started the walk along the long ramp. It was apparent that she would go first.

Reaching the center, Wonder Woman set her grip on the one inch thick handle fused to the giant chains. The device, controlled by an administrator on the other side, hit the motor and the chains pulled tight until Wonder Woman’s arms were fully outstretched. As the cameras focused on her incredibly muscular, vein engorged form, Wonder Woman nodded and the weight of the first planes was ratcheted in. Wonder Woman’s face contorted a bit as she accepted the force pulling against her. After a moment, Wonder Woman nodded again and the platform slowly fell out from under her. She was now hanging in the air. A huge digital stopwatch above the administrator’s building started counting up. The contest had begun!

Staring ahead, Wonder Woman’s steely blue eyes focused straight ahead as the wind whipped around her silky raven hair. Tightening her stomach, the uniform molded around her abs of steel as she tensed hard to strengthen her core. Wonder Woman flexed her legs, causing her thighs to balloon back up with bullish, separated quads. She pointed her toes down and her calves jumped and bubbled into soccer ball sized mounds of strength.

But it was her upper body that was receiving the brunt of the initial punishment as she pooled her strength. Her back widened with huge blocks of writhing beef across her massive lats. Her traps bulged upward and her flexing expanding football-sized shoulders upward like twin loafs of bread as her body accepted the weight of two 747s. She mentally prepared for the pain about to come. Her chest, already beyond the size her outfit was built to accommodate, surged forward as inch thick steaks of additional super-powered meat stacked upon each other. The top groaned and with a horrific metal tear, ripped down the middle and shot off her body in separate directions like twin bullets, shredding the rest of the bodice as the remaining rags of her top fell around her waist. Wonder Woman’s globe-sized breasts jiggled for a moment as they pushed back out into perfect spheres of goddess sex appeal. Her bullet nipples pointed straight ahead as her excitement and anticipation grew.

By now the clock had ticked away nearly a minute as She-Hulk and Fairchild looked on, curious if this challenge was too much for the goddess of strength. But they wouldn’t have to wonder any longer as Wonder Woman finally began to pull the planes into the air as her ripped, foot-wide forearms neared vertical. Her biceps leaped upward into twin cantaloupe mounds of shredded pink power flexing larger than anything Superman could hope to match. It was in fact the thought of Superman that drove Wonder Woman’s through this challenge. She had long ago tired of everyone’s idea that she was a distant second to Superman in size, strength and power. By the time she was done she wanted to showcase just how superior to Superman she was.

As she finished the first curl at 1 minute and 10 seconds, she brought her arms down cautiously and prepared for the next curl. Once her arms were back out to horizontal, the next two 747’s were added to the mix and Wonder Woman grimaced. But this time she pulled in one breath and with the strength of the gods at her side, began to pull up against two million pounds of weight with each arm. Steadily, four planes rose as Woman Woman’s biceps did the same. Inches of testosterone-fueled muscles writhed across her mighty arms like multiplying worms, pushing the tanned peaks up toward her wrists. Once an audible click was heard to indicate the second curl was completed, Wonder Woman lowered her arms once again as the clock moved toward 2 minutes.

The third addition of weight was met with equal resolve and Wonder Woman was soon pulling against the weight with thoughts of putting Superman’s head between her raging forearm and her Herculean bicep and cracking his skull. Veins roared across her bicep as she neared the apex of her third curl and the back bicep head pushed up toward the top of her fist. As the fourth addition of weight saw the clock at 2 minutes and 40 seconds, Wonder Woman let out a groan for the first time as both arms now had 4 million pounds pulling against them. Her chest heaved as her pectorals blasted ahead with horrific striated bands, pushing her mighty chest forward to previously unthinkable levels. Sweat trickled into her muscled cleavage and her raw, naked breasts glowed with power. With another inhale, Wonder Woman began the fourth curl and grunted as her biceps added even more size to accommodate the weight, bristling muscle fibers up the side in bold display. Not daring to slow down, Wonder Woman groaned louder as she pulled up the weight for the fifth curl and grit her teeth as her Amazonian biceps looked ready to split her skin and push her vein engorged peak up an inch over the top of her fist. Letting out a rasped breath, Wonder Woman let her arms extend again as the sixth set of 747s locked into place.

Wonder Woman suppressed the yell she wanted to let out and instead a throaty, animalistic growl escaped her ruby lips. The clock displayed 4 minutes as her entire body quivered under the strain. Concentrating to hold her grip, Wonder Woman’s titanic legs moved outward as she flexed her gigantic quads up into shredded mounds of compressed muscle two ungodly feet thick. Her abs crunched forth tectonic plates pushed together so tightly that they appeared to be fighting each other for additional space. Her chest rose higher and thicker as striations began to work their way up her golden boobs. Gasping, Wonder Woman pulled against six aircraft with each arm and her biceps screamed for mercy, but those pleas were ignored as Wonder Woman pulled her fists up and with the familiar click completed the sixth curl. Barely wanting to continue, Wonder Woman brought her arms down anyway, knowing that time was not just her enemy to complete this feat, but the longer she held the weights, the harder it would be to maintain her grip.

As the sweat beaded up on her furrowed brow, Wonder Woman finally yelled out as the seventh gear ratcheted into place and seven million pounds threatened to rip her apart. Her palms started to sweat, threatening her grip, but Wonder Woman only tightened her fists in response, causing the nearly indestructible material to squeal under the pressure. With her arms shaking, Wonder Woman powered the weights upward, causing her quivering muscles to punch even more mass into her oversized biceps. Wicked veins snaked their way around her forearms, across her deep-bellied triceps and back up her expanding biceps, pumping the blood of the gods into her aching muscles. As her peaks soared above her eye level, Wonder Woman completed the seventh curl as the clock hit 5 minutes and 50 seconds. Letting out a quick sigh of relief she fully realized that it would be short lived as she allowed her arms to extend once more and add yet another million pounds to each arm.

The groan from Wonder Woman was one of torment as even her seemingly unlimited endurance once again waivered, if only for a moment. The vision of a crushed Superman slumped over her gigantic Amazon bicep caused a cruel grin to etch across her tortured face. Her eyes stared straight ahead to focus on the task as her arms shook violently. But through the pain Wonder Woman slowly powered the weights back up for the eighth impossible curl and with another terrifying scream back down to accept another 747 on each arm. Every exhale was now an anguished scream as each muscle on her magnificently over-muscled body now quaked as though she were receiving electric shocks. Yelling once again, Wonder Woman powered up the chains and her biceps built up stronger, more massive and ripped to shreds. Looking like something out of a horror movie’s anatomy book, her biceps distended outward and upward as forearms riddled with pulsing, writhing veins and sinew blew out over a foot wide while her otherworldly bicep peaks pushed up to the top of her beautiful head as she completed the ninth incredible curl at 7 minutes and 45 seconds.

As her shaking, overstressed arms lowed once again, Wonder Woman pulled her knees up as the pain began to overload her system. Her gigantic swollen thighs bubbled outward as they flexed and her abs pushed out more muscles than were previously even known to exist. Her arms nearly locked as she gave the first tug and her arms remained outstretched - torn with excruciating pain. Looking up to the heavens she hollered out at the top of lungs “Hera, give me STRENGTH!”

Her arms shook uncontrollably as she pulled with her final reserves and twenty fully loaded 747s began to move upward as twisted, dark-purple veins vainly tried to pull the lactic acid from her muscles fast enough. Her entire body was on fire with gut wrenching pain, but she would not be denied! As her biceps towered up for one final, seemingly impossible curl, Wonder Woman swallowed and put the last of her strength forward. She pulled the chains up and slowly reached the apex as twin watermelon-sized, muscle-laden, vein-engorged, ripped to shreds biceps quivered and condensed into twin mountains of God-shaming power.

The last gear clicked and the clock stopped at 9 minutes and 2 seconds, the stand pulled into place quickly and the weights were released. Wonder Woman’s arms fell like lead weights to her sides and she fell to one knee on the stand. Pulling in pained breaths she struggled to release the death grip she still had on the handles. Once she did the imprints of her fingers were clearly seen. She imagined squeezing Superman with such a death grip and this gave her enough energy to rise up. Not wanting to give away her pain to her opponents, Wonder Woman turned around and slowly walked back to the other women. She reached up and with a wince, tore off the remaining rags of her top and let them drop into the canyon below, leaving her naked save for her blue starred mini tights that at this point barely acted as a thong. Without a concern, Wonder Woman’s sweat soaked, insanely mega-muscled form strode forward like the goddess she was.

She Hulk had her arms crossed, knowing full well she would have to do better. Fairchild bit her lower lip with growing fear. They both couldn’t help but stare at Wonder Woman’s muscle-bloated, nightmarish arms as veins still pumped wildly and the muscle fibers twitched. Once Wonder Woman reached them she smiled wickedly. “Next!”

She Hulk stared at the walkway and without even looking at Fairchild for acknowledgement, started walking down the long aisle toward the stand. Shaking her arms, she knew that it would take all of her resolve and anger to win. The upstart teenager may have gotten lucky on the last challenge, but Jennifer feared that it was Wonder Woman who was the serious challenger. As two workers changed the handles, bright welding lights flashed. The men scurried away on a flying transport as She Hulk made her way to the stand. Pulling in a breath Jennifer reached down and settled in on an acceptable grip. The chains slowly pulled away until her arms were outstretched and she could feel the weights pull against her. She grimaced with pain, but knowing that this was only the beginning, held her anger in check. With a simple nod from the green giant the stand slowly moved down until She Hulk was now hanging in the air. The clock started counting up. She Hulk’s challenge had begun!

She Hulk accepted the resistance against her body and let out a quick roar as she allowed her building anger to fuel her strength. Even in the midst of battles that could mean her death, Jennifer always held her dark side in check. She would use that dark side; those barely contained emotions when needed, but she still feared the consequences of losing all control. However, if she were to win this challenge and this contest, she would have to push her anger right up to that limit. So as her eyes started to glaze over and the pain in her body shifted to fear and up to anger, her entire massive, 7 foot tall frame began to pulse. Gigantic muscles burst forward, rippling in green waves across her skin, pushing every muscle fiber to the surface.

With a cruel smile across her face she slowly powered up the twin jets for the first curl, almost gleefully welcoming the pain and the threat to her very existence. As her arms pulled upward and she completed the first curl her bicep peaks blasted half way up her expanding forearms as what looked like green rebars built up across her shredded, striated hulking muscles. The clock read 40 seconds and She Hulk grit her teeth with the realization that she was already ahead of the Amazon bitch.

As she pulled her arms back down, the second set of jets clicked into place, She Hulk grunted with pain as the resistance against each arm doubled. Tensing her mighty green form her gamma fueled muscles blasted across her upper body in a frenzy of expansion that overcame the material on her stretchable outfit. Her back blew out to ridiculous thickness and preposterous width and twin cubes of pectoral fright burst forward, shredding her top as if it was ripped by a thresher. As the rags fell around her hips her breasts also burst free, building back up to round, nigh impenetrable balls of female power and lust as the connective tissue, muscles and ligaments of her breasts took on a new, super human hardness and power. But even as her magnificent breast pushed outward, they were still dwarfed by the massive, striated, ungodly pectoral shelf that pushed outward as large as anything the Hulk himself had ever flexed!

Ignoring the pain as best she could and reveling momentarily in her small victory, She-Hulk powered the four 747’s upward with a steel resolve and the thought of her mighty cousin. With a tortured grunt her biceps build back up even higher with insane bumps and valleys and a bicep split etched across the expanse. Another click indicated she had completed the second curl at 1 minute 18 seconds, well ahead of Wonder Woman’s standard.

As Jennifer’s arms moved down and the third set of planes locked into place, she leaned her head back to accept the weight as her thoughts pulled to Bruce. He would be her mental grounding, the one thing keeping her from going over the edge. But not due to her love for him, but due to her anger. She Hulk was tired of playing second fiddle to her cousin and was looking to use this event to push herself beyond her previous limits to out muscle, out flex and out power the Hulk! So with her anger at a near boil and her resolve set, Jennifer pulled against the massive chains and six 747’s moved upward. Her biceps build up ever higher with her pulsing peaks near the top of her fists as she completed the curl. The clock hit 2 minutes and 10 seconds. Her arms moved back down as the next planes locked into place.

She Hulk let out a labored breath as she set herself down, squeezing down hard and pumping her swollen chest even larger. Sweat trickled down the side of her face and beads of sweat pushed out across her shoulders and into her deeply striated pectorals as she pooled her strength and grit her teeth. With another terrifying roar, She Hulk pulled up four million pounds with each arm with fluid resolve as her strength continued to ramp upward. The pause had cost her time for this curl as the clock ticked to 2 minutes and 55 seconds, but She Hulk barely slowed down to catch her breath as the next two planes locked into place.

Pictures of her fists slamming into her cousin’s chest with destructive force pushed her forward and she powered the ten jets upward even as her arms shook from the effort. Her biceps were now nothing short of a nightmare. Veins as thick as snakes were leaching to the surface and her peaks were nearing the top of her head, fueled by geometric, gamma-powered growth. Reaching the half-way point, She Hulk spat as she allowed her arms to head back down and click in the sixth set of planes. The clock hit 3 minutes and 30 seconds, still ahead of Wonder Woman!

She Hulk teetered on the precipice of giving into her rage, but she gulped in some fresh air and imagined herself flexing up her biceps next to the Hulk’s and seeing them grow beyond even his incredible size and strength. Her arms ached as acid boiled in her veins and her mighty muscles twitched from the strain but she swung her bloated, horrifying thighs upward to gain momentum. Her calves bunched and jutted, tearing her boots down to her ankles as the muscles pushed out to volleyball-sized balls of power. Her abs, already jammed with muscles few even knew existed, throbbed under the strain and separated deeply as she breathed deeply. And with her wits back again, She Hulk powered up the 12 planes with icy concentration until her muscle-bloated biceps contracted fully to complete the curl. Letting out a labored breath she grumbled and roared deeply as she felt the seventh set of jets lock into place. The roar became a scream as she tightened her grip and the adamantium metal groaned. Steeling herself, She Hulk pulled against 7 million pounds with each arm and cried out in victory as her massive, bloated biceps pushed up above her head with the apex of the completed curl. Holding the curl for a moment, another harder breath was released as she lowered her arms. The clock hit 5 minutes and 30 seconds.

She Hulk grunted. She was slowing down, so she pulled in her reserves of strength as the eighth set of planes locked into place. Her distended pectorals writhed like living cubes as even more muscle pushed forward blasting her incredible pectoral shelf and her porn star breasts nearly three feet in front of her face. Her arms now shook uncontrollably, but Jennifer ignored the spastic nerve endings firing wildly into her pulsing, shaking muscles and threw her head back to concentrate on the task and not lose control. She then let out a tortured breath and pulled against the chains, raising 16 jets upward until she had completed another curl. She Hulk gulped from the pain and bit her lower lip until it bled, knowing that more pain was to come. Looking ahead ferociously, Jennifer allowed her arms to outstretch again and the ninth set of planes clicked loudly into place.

Hanging on the edge of defeat, She Hulk could only keep her grip and focus on Bruce, fearing a loss of control would cause her to rip the chains apart and forfeit the event. She imagined placing him across her massive shoulders and bending him to his breaking point, destroying the indestructible body against her infinitely more powerful, freakishly muscular form. Even as her arms continued to spasm under the strain and sweat burned into her eyes, Jennifer spat out blood and pulled against the jets with the biggest, most hideous arms the world had ever seen. Jagged muscle fibers, mounds of muscle meat and garden hose veins pounded against twin green mountains of throbbing, tortured biceps the likes of which had never been flexed before. And as those gigantic arms reached another curl, the green skin looked ready to split against the onslaught of super she-muscle. With the completion of the ninth curl, the clock sat at 6 minutes and 38 seconds.

Barely able to focus on the large clock, She Hulk knew she was ahead, but was about ready to black out or give in to the monster inside her. Holding on for dear life, Jennifer paused to maintain any semblance of control. As the entire viewing audience sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation, with another dreadful scream, She Hulk lowered the weights down and allowed the final jets to click into place.

Jennifer’s entire body now pulsed and jerked against the strain and the unspeakable pain. She Hulk’s inner voice screamed for her to unleash the demons, but with only one more curl to go, Jennifer maintained control even as sweat dripped off her overheated muscles and her body convulsed. Staring ahead, she roared with the fury of a stampeding elephant herd and yanked, pulled and jerked against the chains with the last of her controlled strength, the 20 planes rose. Her biceps towered up with horrifying muscles that peaked inches above the top of her head, reaching a ghastly height of over three feet from the bottom of her shredded, insanely thick tricep belly to the top of her pulsing, horrid bicep peak. As she completed the final curl, the clock stopped at 7 minutes and 55 seconds - a good minute better than Wonder Woman!

She Hulk lowered the weights as another loud click finally released the weight of jets. The stand quickly rose up and She Hulk fell backwards, landing on her muscle-laden behind. Her hands held the metal with twitching grips and it took several seconds for her to pry them open. Once she did, Jennifer sucked in deep breaths as her muscle spasms slowly calmed down. With a final breath, She Hulk rose up and turned to walk back to the edge of the cliff. As the camera zoomed in, her oversized, gargantuan muscles pushed out across her body so large she could barely walk. Her arms hung down painfully and continued to twitch as her superheated muscle fibers pulsed across boulder biceps.

Finally reaching the end she smirked at Fairchild, who looked terrified, and over at Wonder Woman who scowled back to her superior smile. While Jennifer knew she hadn’t won yet, she also knew that she had beaten Wonder Woman two contests in a row. And considering the look on Fairchild’s face, she felt confident that the teenage slut wouldn’t be able to match her mark. Grunting, She-Hulk tore off the remains of her outfit and seeing Wonder Woman’s nearly naked form, kicked off her ruined boots too. Both women were now in nothing but thongs packed with massive, bulging, super-powered muscles and giant, impenetrable boobs of might.

Turning back toward Fairchild, She Hulk pulled her right arm up and flexed her still oversized bicep into a wall of intimidating muscle.

“Your turn girl. Try and match THIS!”

Fairchild looked up and up at the giant bicep, pulling her neck back to see the peak. If she was nervous before, this was making things worse. Pulling her eyes away, she turned on her heels and headed down the long bridge to take the stand with She Hulk chuckling behind her. Even though Wonder Woman and She Hulk had bulked up further from the ordeal, Caitlin still looked like a female bulldozer. Her own outfit was barely covering anything and she pondered just ripping it off now, but instead concentrated on the task ahead. If she were to survive, she would need to utilize her high intellect. Any physical activity had a mental aspect to it, she reasoned. This one was no different. If she thought she could succeed, then she would. Her thighs bulged hugely as she walked and crackled with strength, each footstep bulging her cantaloupe calves. Her broad, muscle laden shoulders gave her the look of an oversized linebacker and her massive back and chest did little to shake that thought. It was her generous curves, muscle-loaded but a narrow waist, large firm breasts, long gorgeous red hair and killer looks that still showcased the fact that she was a young woman.

Reaching the stand, Fairchild looked down to see a fresh set of handles welded into place. She took in a breath and bent down to get a satisfactory grip. Staring at the large time piece in front of her she nodded her head and the chains slowly pulled away until her arms were fully outstretched. She stifled a scream as two planes were pulled into place and one million pounds was held against each arm. She looked ahead nervously. After watching the pain and anguish displayed by Wonder Woman and She Hulk she knew that this would be the most difficult challenge yet. So she once again focused on something to keep her focused on her task. Smiling weakly, she thought about Black Cat and her absurdly muscled form. She had already nearly matched her size and the thought of exceeding it was already getting her wet. With a twisted thought of muscle lust, Caitlin nodded her head and the platform fell below her. One million pounds was pulling against each arm and Fairchild yelped with pain. The clock started and her contest had begun!

Gritting her teeth, Fairchild shook her head to focus. This was only the start and she couldn’t give in so soon. No, think about Felicia. Think about growing bigger and stronger. As Fairchild breathed in heavy breaths, the tied strips of her outfit popped unceremoniously and fell down to her hips. Her upper body was naked once again, but that no longer even bothered her. She tugged at one chain and then the next, swinging a bit back and forth, psyching herself up. The crowd staring at the hulking teenager began to wonder if she would ever start. A minute and half had gone off the clock and Fairchild had not even attempted her fist curl. But then, just when people thought she had given up, Fairchild closed her eyes.

And smiled?

Her generously pumping muscles began to surge across her body in waves. Her massive chest plowed forward and her incredible, missile-proof breasts seemed to harden and shine. Her excited nipples pushed out an inch as her entire chest bulled forward under the strain. Fairchild’s arms surged from her wrists to her widening, thickening forearms to her rippling deep bellies triceps to un-flexed, outstretched biceps that appeared to be growing upward like twin loafs of rippling bread with too much yeast. Her shoulders bulged up like massive footballs, her back widened and thickened with inch after incredible inch of muscle. Her breathing picked up as though she were running a race and her abs grew denser as each muscle block pushed against the next. More muscle popped to the surface as pebble obliques roared up the sides of her massive lats. She flexed her thighs and obscene quads blasted outward. She pointed her toes down and her calves surged forward like massive distended steel balls. The onlookers all gasped. She was hulking out to ridiculous levels without performing one curl. What would happen once and if she started?

Letting out a satisfied breath, with the clock hitting two minutes, Fairchild finally pulled against the weights. The two 747’s pulled up smoothly as Fairchild completed her first curl in mere seconds after she began. Her biceps bulged ominously upward like twin tanned steel mounds of testosterone fueled she-muscle, pushing up to her wrist and looking super strong and super powerful. She brought her arms down smoothly and the second planes clicked into place. Grunting lightly as she accepted the weight, Fairchild paused only for a moment and miraculously began pulling up the chains again, plowing ahead with incredible ease. Her mighty muscles surged again as her biceps rippled further and her peak inched up toward her fists. She completed the second curl and with thoughts of out-flexing the outlandish brute Black Cat, shook with an orgasm through the pain. Love juices trickled down her inner thighs as she let her arms head back down.

Within moments the third set of jets locked into place and a grimace etched across Fairchild’s face. But like her second curl, she paused for only a moment and with a loud grunt pulled the six jets upward. Her humongous pectorals surged further forward like living mounds of raw, savage meat, pushing her chest outward to nearly three feet! Her shoulders and traps pushed upward toward her ears and her forearms thicken and twisted with absurd, writhing muscles to one foot thick. Her huge triceps jutted lower like twin tanned half basketballs as her mighty biceps rose up even higher! Her upper bicep was a shredded mass of beef with the back bicep built up like a brick wall above the top of her fists as she completed the third curl. Squeezing hard to maintain her grip the handles groaned under her unyielding pressure.

Fairchild allowed her arms to head downward and another quick grunt indicated that the fourth set of jets had locked into place. Her eyes still closed in concentration, her brow furrowed as she accepted the additional weight. But once again, the pause was short and she began to pull the eight planes upward with incredible power. Her biceps leapt back upward and surged ever larger, riddled with insane bumps, grooves and pulsing, expanding muscle fibers. As her fists reached vertical once again and she completed the fourth curl, her mega powered bicep peaks were up to the top of her head! Exhaling with rushed, uneven breaths, her arms headed back down slowly until she reached the starting point once again.

The fifth set of jets clicked into place and Fairchild’s face contorted with pain. Holding her deep concentration and picturing her muscle-bloated body out-flexing Felicia and every other he-man who dared challenge her; she quickly accepted the weight and began to pull the chains. The ten planes moved upward, her muscles continuing to pile on more and more mass to absurd levels. Veins pushed to the surface across her upper body and down her bristling wall of devastating abdominal blocks. She flexed her legs and her quads burst forward like steel girder slabs of rippling sides of beef while her calves blasted into twin distended basketballs of unrelenting power. As her fists reached their apex, her muscle-bloated biceps reached new levels of massiveness. Her forearm struggled to reach vertical to complete the curl as her grotesquely thick forearms slammed into her gigantic bicep wall whose peak pushed nearly six inches above the top of her head! With an exhale of pain and pleasure, Fairchild’s entire body shuddered with another orgasm as her sticky sex dripped down to her knees. For the first time since she began she opened her eyes and stared at the clock. It read 3 minutes and 28 seconds. She was on pace with She Hulk, but she also knew that she had cranked out five repetitions in a minute and a half! If she could somehow keep up this blistering pace she would crush She Hulk’s time. But she knew that the challenge wasn’t getting any easier as she brought her arms back down and the sixth set of planes locked into place.

For the first time, her body shuddered under the strain and her concentration wavered. Licking her lips she pulled in a hard breath, pushing her already prodigious muscle pumped chest out even further. Fairchild’s arms shook as she stared ahead, bore down on her grip and pulled with a loud yell against 12 million pounds. Her muscle-bloated arms shook and responded with the needed strength as more muscles rippled forward like additional troops called into battle. Her magnificent sweat soaked biceps exploded upward, glimmering against the sun and rising upward. As she groaned painfully, Caitlin completed the curl with a knowing crooked grin.

Snorting an acknowledgement of her feat, she lowered her arms back down and in effort to block the added pain that shot through her arms and across her body as the seventh pair of 747’s locked into place, Caitlin continued to fantasize. She saw her gigantic muscles roll across her body with such size and definition that the Avengers and Justice League combined were left in the dust. Ignoring the increasing pain and the shaking across her pumpkin-sized shoulders, Fairchild yanked the chains with renewed vigor and 14 jets jerked upward. Supercharged blood continued to pump forward into Caitlin’s waiting muscles as she completed the seventh curl with purpose, grunting noisily as her muscles continued to surge and blow out larger than ever before. She yelled out as her steel focus was momentarily shaken with two more planes being added. Her body hung with her petrified arms shaking and her steel focus nearly shattered. Fairchild closed her eyes once again and shifting her thoughts to complete her goal of finishing this challenge, began to pull against the 16 planes with laser resolve. Her monumental biceps bubbled outward and upward, continuing their fantastic, unrelenting growth as she completed the eighth curl.

Slowly allowing her arms to head back down Fairchild’s breath grew heavy once again as her pulse raised with excitement and growing concern. She had powered herself through the event by using her intellect to project her thoughts to an ultimate goals and was ahead of She-Hulk’s pace and knew she needed to maintain this focus if she were to finish and even win. As the ninth set of jets locked into place Fairchild sucked in a new breath as her mighty muscles bunched and pulsed while sickening, pulsing garden hose sized veins pumped harshly across her entire body. Fairchild jerked the planes up half way and grumbled angrily as she was forced to pause momentarily as her arm muscles felt ready to burst. With another muscle spasm, Caitlin forced her monstrous forearms up as her ungodly peaked biceps build up well over a foot above her red haired head! As Fairchild opened her eyes to stare at the clock, the time ticked by 6 minutes and 50 seconds. Her furious pace had slowed, but Fairchild also knew it had taken She-Hulk over a minute to complete her last curl. Could she drive herself forward in time?

Her entire body scorched with increasing pain as Fairchild struggled to refocus. Moving her arms back down, the final planes locked into place and Fairchild’s troubled face slowly calmed. She would be the biggest, most powerful, muscle bulging creature to walk the earth. Her muscles would be worshipped, feared and envied. As she concentrated, her muscles continued to twitch, surge and pump with vigor. But the clock was ticking and her body was shaking under the stress. She could feel her grip start to yield and even as she felt an orgasm build up, something had to give. So with a final, seemingly impossible surge of strength, Fairchild slowly pulled the weights upward as her bicep consolidated into twin missiles of super muscle. With a final scream of pain and pleasure, Fairchild completed the final curl and as she opened her blood shot eyes, the clock showed 8 minutes and 2 seconds. She grunted as her arms went back down, the platform rose and weights disengaged.

As her feet touched the platform she released her grip and grimaced. She had lost! But she knew she could have done better. She had allowed her thoughts to consume her, but not again. As she turned, her arms twitched painfully with sickening growth. And the pain moved up her arms and shot across her massive pectoral shelf. Caitlin stumbled forward, finally reaching the other contenstants. Wonder Woman nodded her head with respect. She Hulk stared fiercely as she knew full well that had Fairchild focused that the win could have gone the other way. As Caitlin reached them her once intimidated look had changed. She now knew she could hang with her contestants. And to She-Hulk’s chagrin, Fairchild blocked the pain, pulled up her arm and flexed her arm. Her bicep exploded with gargantuan mass, sinew, striations and jagged, feathered muscle fibers that raced up to a pulsing peak. She had flexed up a bicep BIGGER than She-Hulk’s and she knew it!

“You may have won Jennifer, but I can match you now!”

With a shudder, Caitlin released her flex and let out a sigh of relief.

Wonder Woman touched the ground and prayed to Gaea, asking for the strength of mother earth, now realizing she would need it if she were to propel herself to a win.

She-Hulk turned angrily to the side and also knew that if she were to win that she could no longer afford to hold back. To hell with the consequences.

The loudspeaker sounded as a man gave the announcement everyone already knew.

“The winner of the forth challenge is She-Hulk!”

THE SUPER STRENGTH SHOWDOWN - challenge 3

2011-08-09T20:51:00.002-05:00

THE SUPER STRENGTH SHOWDOWN

challenge 3: cruise control

The champions were teleported from Luthor’s stadium to the vast expanse of the Utah salt flats. They appeared in the sweltering, sun-baked desert a hundred miles from civilization.

The three beefcake super girls found a base camp of cameras and monitors waiting for them. They also found three huge ships resting in the sand – an oil tanker, a cruise ship and an aircraft carrier. Each ship’s 32-ton anchor was laid out in front of it with a humongous chain leading back to the vessel itself. The individual links were so large that they weighted over a ton by themselves and were taller than the heroines. The ships themselves were estimated at 500 tons each and had been gutted and filled with concrete, adding another 400 tons. The total weight of each ship rounded out at well over 1000 tons a piece.

As the women gazed up at the towering vessels, dwarfed by their sheer immensity - the next challenge was laid upon them. Their task was to use the anchor chains to drag each ship to a finish line exactly one mile away. The first heroine to cross the finish line would score a point.

Not a word was uttered as the muscle-bound sexpots took their places. Both She-Hulk and Fairchild knew that Wonder Woman was playing for keeps now - her strength and focus had been staggering so far. Another victory and she won the competition. It was make it or break it time.

Each woman hoisted their gigantic iron anchor off the ground, itself an feat of brute strength. Outrageous, vein-stuffed definition screamed across beastly thighs and planetoid calves. Fairchild tried to hide it but the simple act of lifting the anchor onto her linebacker shoulders was a monumental effort. She looked over at Wonder Woman, who in spite of being considerably less muscular remained perfectly stone-faced - the anchor held aloft above her erotic body with machine-like precision. To her left, She-Hulk seemed to get off on the challenge. She licked her green lips and lightly curled the immense weight, causing heaving worms of wormy veinage to snake across her straining skin.

Doubt struck the red-haired heroine like a knife in the gut. Maybe Luthor's calculations were right - maybe she was out of her league. All the work she'd done to build her body - the sweating, crying, screaming workouts and still the others noticeably outclassed her

Helicopters circled the sky above capturing the amazing scene in high definition. On the ground, the tension was as stifling as the heat. Sweat ran down the heroines' muscleman curves. Vascularity throbbed and snarled, engorging their muscles with liquid testosterone. The first two events had pumped-up their physiques in an all-out skin-stretching frenzy turning the single-minded girl-stallions into bronzy steroid supermen fitted with ridiculous bolt-on stripper tits.

She-Hulk remained the biggest of the three champions - her unrelenting monster-mass substantially increasing with each challenge. In two short rounds she'd doubled her measurements, grown the endless width of her back and blown past even the biggest, most freakishly ripped Mr. Olympia.

Fairchild was nearly as muscle-stuffed, a remarkable feat given her junior status. Even Wonder Woman, with her incredible tits and steel hard ass was fast taking on the blocky and brutish swagger of a juiced-up, heavyweight he-man.

In simple terms, the world had never witnessed heroines as ferociously muscled as Luthor's three champions. The lone exception was notorious jewel thief the Black Cat - the progenitor of extreme super heroine bodybuilding who only a few years earlier, in a bid to go straight and become a do-gooder herself had begun injecting outrageous quantities of steroids. In 18 months she transformed herself into an almost unrecognizable mountain of androgynous monster-muscle. The media proclaimed her the most muscular human being alive after she famously out-flexed the entire Avengers team on the front page of the Daily Bugle. Since then she'd ignited a public phenomenon, single-handedly dragging the muscle-fetish scene into the mainstream and inspiring the world's most powerful heroines to meet the potential of their own bulging bodies.

A single, sharp signal commenced the third challenge. All three women immediately charged forward, the train-length chains lifting form the sand behind them. With a booming "snap" the links went taught and the heroines stopped flat. Shrieking metal cut the air as the thousand-ton ships stubbornly fought their efforts.

The girls struggled with their anchors like beautiful, busty mules. Wonder Woman stomped her feet, cracking the ground beneath her and poured on the power. Her upper body flexed like a prized thoroughbred, outrageous definition erupting through her melon-sized shoulders and overflowing into her tit-covered chest. She threw her head about, wet hair and sweat flying. Through pure, indomitable will, the aircraft carrier began to move, grinding against the earth like a giant plough. It was an impossible sight - an ant pulling a parked car.

The fury of seeing Wonder Woman advance injected She-Hulk with added strength. Rage was She-Hulk’s secret weapon and she was ready to let loose with both barrels. She grit her teeth, veins flaring up her neck and forehead and fought the chain with all of her might. Muscles surged all over her body – thighs inflating – shoulders and lats mutating wildly. Slowly, the cruise ship began to move.

Fairchild was still struggling with her oil tanker. Her shoulders were burning beneath the crushing weight of the anchor. The huge links of the chain added so much weight that she felt like she was being ground into the dirt. The sun blasted like a heat ray. Her face was pouring sweat, her hair soaked, her costume becoming sticky, transparent cling-wrap.

Two minutes after starting, Fairchild was still at the starting line. Wonder Woman and She-Hulk were way ahead, busy dragging their torturous burdens one step at a time. Audiences around the world watched with baited breath, uncertain if Fairchild was capable of even moving the ship let alone dragging it a mile. She could almost feel their eyes judging her, the shame and humiliation of failing in front of the entire world. She dropped to one knee. The anchor was so God damn heavy. She felt like it was going to snap her in half.

Fairchild glanced through teary eyes. She could see the back of the other ships now. She HAD to do something. Slowly, images of the Black Cat filled her mind. She thought back to that famous front page pose down against the Avengers and the unquenchable lust she had felt for Felicia Hardy's impossible steroid physique. She had spent months jerking off to that picture, lusting over the Cat's 40 inch arms, her chiselled, TV-sized pecs and pumpkin shoulders. It was the Black Cat's audacious hyper-muscularity that had driven Fairchild into the gym. Her only desire became to unleash her own potential - every bulging inch of it, whether the world was ready for it or not.

Letting lose an animal roar, Fairchild flexed with all of her might. Her costume screamed beneath multiplying industrial man-muscles. Stitches gave out as Fairchild’s gigantic back swelled, her lats spreading like meaty dragon wings and consuming every bit of space between her two burly arms. The back of her costume suddenly tore open - wet, bronzy, vein-packed teen beef exploding everywhere.

The anchor lifted up as Fairchild rose to her feet. Her face continued to tighten – deep wrinkles twisting her delicate features, focused willpower fuelling her harrowing, Frankenstein transformation. Teeth clenched, lips pencil thin, Fairchild forced the oil tanker forward. It groaned loudly, desperate to fight her. She whined and fought harder – horrible capillaries tearing through her face – her over-taxed features twisted and tortured. Biceps swelled absurdly, stretched out like deformed basketballs. Her sleeves suddenly surrendered and blew open. Her sweaty bronze flesh pulsated with might, a thousand arteries furiously engorged.

The oil tanker began to move, mountains of sand pushed aside as it dragged ahead. One freakishly huge thigh after another, Fairchild fought her way forward. Every step was agony, but the pain was rocket fuel. Tears mixed with sweat, coating her beastly, vein-wrapped neck and bull traps

Ahead of her, the other women were struggling under the burning sun. Wonder Woman dropped several times, the anchor flattening her beefy shoulders as the challenge nearly overwhelmed her. Each time, She-Hulk shrank the gap between them. The jade giantess was increasingly motivated by Wonder Woman’s weakness – her strength seeming to grow as the Amazon’s wavered. She-Hulk could feel her blood boiling. She was swelling at a rapid pace – throbbing blue veins pumping gamma growth hormones straight into her muscles. Her costume fought to contain her lunatic physique but something was going to give. Even her own green skin began to shriek as each ground-shaking step inflated her grotesque dimensions further.

Behind them, She-Hulk and Wonder Woman heard a noise. Glancing back, they were shocked to see Caitlin Fairchild stomping towards them like a big-titted bulldozer. She was moving at a near jog, her tiny red face nearly consumed by an indescribable orgy of nightmarish muscles. Within seconds, Fairchild passed them both, showing absolutely no sign of slowing down.

Wonder Woman's warrior spirit ignited with fury. She would not be beaten by some chesty teenaged bodybuilder. The Amazon tightened her grip on the huge iron anchor and flared her furiously clenched teeth. She released a bloodcurdling roar that rattled the choppers pilots tracking the scene above her. Wonder Woman's incredible physique responded like it was injected with growth serum - thighs swelling severely, shoulders mutating. Her back strained and spasmed as the cobra hood flare of her lats reached out - a heaving, meaty muscle claw shaking with power. Striations cut through her shoulder blades, tore across her chest and almost cut her tits off. Her massive melons were pushed so far astray off her ballooning pecs that her bustier was the only thing from keeping them out of her armpits.

Somehow she managed to match Fairchild's rabid pace. Like a grunting, raging princess of power, Wonder Woman charged after the redhead, the dead weight of her thousand ton aircraft carrier grinding the Earth behind her.

Now in third, She-Hulk's fury bubbled over. The world watched with confusion as she stopped suddenly and dropped her anchor in the sand. The notion that she had thrown in the towel was quickly dashed as she ran back to the rear of her ship and took up a new position directly behind it. She placed her hands at the base of the ten storey hull and planted her feet in the sand. Jaws dropped at the sight of her calves - each a full-sized watermelon. Her thighs were tendon-shredded washing machines.

Tossing her sticky hair back, She-Hulk screamed to the heavens and pressed with her full might, splitting her forehead with fat, gnarly veinage. Ship metal moaned as the gargantuan cruise ship moved forward, at first by mere inches.

From the rear, the gorgeous green beefcake was simply an unrecognizable mass of meat-packed lat-beef. Her all consuming back devoured everything between her head and shoulders, growing by inches every second that her effort called for it.

With agonizing will, She-Hulk picked up speed – her footsteps shaking the ground and soaking the sand with buckets of sweat. Her costume was stretched so tightly across her gorilla dimensions that her razor blade thong threatened to cut her in half. It had already vanished deep into her ass crack leaving her sickeningly striated beef-ball glutes flexing nakedly.

It was down to the wire with all three heroines closing in on the finish line. After what seemed like an eternity, the goal was in sight. Erotic cries could be heard for miles echoing across the burning landscape. Their resolve was incredible. They would die before they’d give up.

Wonder Woman had managed to close the gap with Fairchild but the Amazon was starting to slow down, her boundless endurance rapidly burning out. Still she fought, her face twisted and purple - her horrifically straining vacsularity pumping battery acid.

With half of her costume split open by her preposterous muscle expansion, Fairchild looked every bit the champion. She would not stop – managing to maintain her impossible pace in spite of her overwhelming exhaustion.

It looked as if Fairchild would take it with the finish line less than 50 feet away when suddenly, She-Hulk turned the tables. Moving at a full-speed run, the green-skinned muscle-freak was a runaway freight train determined to overtake the others. She-Hulk herself was but a tiny spec in a cloud of swirling sand kicked up behind the tanker - a nightmarishly muscled she-man singlehandedly moving one of the largest man-made objects in the world.

Fairchild knew she had to pour it on, max out and push herself to the breaking point. Somehow, the disgustingly super-muscled he-teen flexed even harder, screaming like a banshee and pouring every single ounce of her dick-withering super-strength into her effort. Her gigantic, medicine ball shoulders went nuclear, blowing her tattered costume to shreds. Her giant tits bounced around like hyperactive balloons, their heavy, naked masses slapping her chin and belly button. She didn’t care that she was now a sopping wet, topless muscle freak – she HAD to win.

A laser marker was triggered as one of the ships crossed the finish line a hair ahead of the others. It took over 200 feet for the three heroines to slow down, their ships’ hulls red hot from the friction.

The women collapsed to the sand, violently dry heaving, sobbing in agony. Fairchild gazed at the heavens while her every muscle involuntarily twitched. Through ringing ears she heard an announcement broadcast across nearby loudspeakers.

“The winner of the third challenge – Caitlin Fairchild!”

She managed a tiny smile.

MONSTROUS MUSCLE - a Made to Order side story

2011-07-05T12:56:00.001-05:00

Jeremy Wilson is a name that needs no introduction, nor does this awesome story of Monstra meeting her match - written by the man himself!

MONSTROUS MUSCLE
a Made to Order side story

By Jeremy Wilson shaneomacfan3@yahoo.com

What happens when Monstra more than meets her match?

*Author’s Note: This story is based on another story by Mr. Shhh by the name of Made to Order, in that story a man used a computer program on a dating site to create his ideal female companion, who turned up a couple days later to be even bigger than his specifications. But what happened if there was a much bigger, much stronger, much older woman out there than that? Monstra blew Brian away with her incredible size and definition, what will happen when he and Monstra meet someone who blows Monstra out of the water? This story is inspired by Mr. Shhh, but it is also a request of sorts by a member of Brawna and Deviant art by the name of Neoverseomega, thanks for your praise and inspiration, hope you like this story. Like most of my stories, this story may not be for everyone, so if you don‘t like incredibly enormous, striated, veiny muscle on mature muscle, well, this story is probably not going to be for you, but for those of you inclined, I hope you enjoy.*

*BOOM BOOM BOOM*

Brian awoke from the sounds of huge bangs and thumps that actually shook his house. Living in New York, he knew that it couldn't have been an earthquake, but he also knew it couldn't be the other thing that was capable of making that sound, that was capable of making his house shake. He knew that Monstra was all the way over in California, and was supposed to stay there until next week.

*BOOM BOOM BOOM*

Whatever was making those sounds, whatever was shaking the house was getting nearer. It was unlike anything he's ever felt before, even when Monstra was around the house, it shook much, much less than what was happening now. He had been in California when it was hit with a small earthquake, and this is almost what it felt like, he was banged around in his bed like he was being shook in a snow globe.

Just then, the booming stopped, and the doorbell rang. Brian looked at the clock, it was 7:50 am, he usually woke up at 8:30am, but the shaking and booming had definitely got him all the way up. He rushed down the stairs in his robe, which covered his T-shirt and boxer shorts. He almost stopped when he heard the knock that struck, and noticeably shook the door, he knew it must have been Monstra, no one else he knew could treat the big, solid oak door like it was made of balsa wood. But what was she doing back already? And why was she knocking, they were living together and she had a key.

So Brian walked to the door, gingerly, and opened it, but it wasn't Monstra that stood there in front of him. It was a woman, an African-American woman, but one that completely blew Monstra out of the water! But that wasn't the first thing he noticed. He had to look up and up, to see trapezius muscles that towered 2 feet above his own head! But the eyes that Brian could just barely see behind pecs that spread out so far that he couldn't see the end of them beyond his 4 and a half foot wide door frame, well, those eyes were 6 inches below his own eye level, making this muscle monster 5'8 tall, her traps towered 2'6 above her own head! Brian couldn't stop staring at her pectoral shelf, not only was it wider than the hugely wide doorframe, which he got for Monstra, who could barely fit in it herself, but they were so deep that he knew he could stick his arm in there up to the elbow, with his fingers fully extended and still not hit breastbone. And there were no breasts, Brian could tell, each and every inch of those mammary mountains was complete, one hundred percent, shredded, vascular muscle.

The spell over Brian was broken when this muscle monstrosity cleared her throat. Brian shook his head clear and asked in an anxious voice. "Um, may I - may I help you ma'am?"

"Are you Brian Henderson, sir?"

Brian Nodded. He marveled as the words passed her lips, he knew from experience with Monstra that you shouldn't expect a voice to go with the body, but what came out of this humungous woman's mouth, even if she said 5 words, was so incredible to contemplate. He almost expected her to sound like James Earl Jones or Michael Clarke Duncan, and not because she was black, but she looked roided out beyond all human comprehension. What he heard though, was pure melodic euphoria, it was a husky, though smooth and velvety, if Brian could compare it to anyone living or dead, real or imagined, maybe Jessica Rabbit, low, but definitely feminine, complete audio intercourse.

"The same Brian Henderson who went on to Made to Order Muscle.com about 5 months ago and maxed out every specification in order to find your perfect muscle match?"

"Y..yes, that was me, but I already got a response from that website, someone who was beyond the max, her name is Monstra."

"Well, as you can see already, I am well past the max as well, I thought that I would pump myself up to an even higher degree for a couple extra months, lifting 16 hours a day with weights so heavy that even 5 of the World's strongest men put together couldn't lift it off the floor for more than 10 seconds. And that's just my warm-up weight. My name is Gargantua, and I'm your fantasy times 10. Now where is this Monstra, I want to see what flimsy little soft girlie you settled for before I showed up."

"She's away, in California, she isn't supposed to be back until the middle of next week. To tell you the truth, I can tell you that you're much taller than her, she's only 5'1, so you got her in height, and I don't doubt you have her in weight and size. But when I was making my application out on the site, I did put down that the girl was supposed to be white, not that I have anything against black women at all, in fact I did waver back and forth between clicking the link for black for a while, I can tell you that I'm attracted to black women, for sure. But how old are you, if you don't mind me asking, Gargantua, I'd put you at 35, maybe 40?"

"You know a man should never ask a woman her age, especially a woman who can turn you to mush, but since you asked nicely, I'll tell you. Last year I celebrated my 51st Birthday."

"Well, if you saw my profile, you know I selected the 22-30 option. But hey, you know, I like older female bodybuilders, some of my favorites in fact, are around your age, Annie Riveccio, Colette Guimond, Trudy Ireland, so to tell you the truth, the fact that you are well over my decided option, the fact that you're 51 in no way turns me off."

"Well, that's good, so we're already agreed that you are attracted to older black women, and I know that enormously huge, ripped muscles turn you on, so how about we get to know each other better, sweetie?"

"Um, uh, Gargantua, I already have a relationship with Monstra, I have been dating her for 3 months now, while you are exactly the kind of woman I would fall for if I wasn't already dating someone exactly like that..."

"You think I'm exactly like Monstra? Are you saying you think that puny little girl can compete with a real woman like me? If she was here right now, I'd show her a thing or two about size and power. You think this is as big as I can get? You think this is as ripped as I can get? Do you think that that bimbo is the personification of big? Well, boy, you gonna get an education into the personification of enormous. I suggest you invite me into your house now, or I'm going to have to invite myself in, and that would be much more fun for me, but not as much fun for you."

To emphasize her point, Gargantua took a grip of brick near the door frame with her forefinger and thumb and without any sign of effort on her face, crushed it to dust. Brian quickly stepped back and invited her in. She took some time to get in, though, it was like watching an 8 foot giant get into a little car, she had to bend down to get her traps under the door frame, then turn sideways diagonally to get into the door, even then, her torso was so frickin' thick that there was barely a millimeter of space not taken up by her enormous frame! But she made it in, just barely, and Brian discovered that she seemed to take up a lot of space, her shoulders, which he couldn't even see behind her enormous pecs, were even wider than her pecs! They had to be wider than she herself was tall, that kind of thing is incredible to contemplate, not even Monstra could boast that! Brian put her at 6 foot by 4 and a half feet at 5'10 tall. Considering the room was 15 by 15, and a normal human being took up about 12.5 percent of that, this woman by herself took up nearly 45 percent of this room's space! Her traps, towering overhead at over 8 feet tall were very close to the 10 foot tall ceiling, and I had a feeling that had she chose to flex them, that space of less than 2 feet would be as extinct as the dinosaurs.

Brian was standing 10 feet away from her, and now that he was away from her beach ball sized pectorals, he could see her abs, which at rest looked to be a 10 pack of softball sized blocks, with feathered striations and veins running all over them. Not to mention her intercostals, which were ripped to a degree that even Monstra couldn't match, and he'd been there on Monstra's abs day, he saw her fresh from pounding her abs with brutal exercise after brutal exercise, they still didn't come close to Gargantua's "relaxed" abdominal wall! God knows what it would be like if she was flexing!

She knew what Brian was looking at and smirked. "I see you like my abs, well jus' wait, baby, you gonna see them a whole lot, after I defeat your little itty bitty muscle girl Monstra. But until she gets here, I'm gonna keep my body to myself. But to pass the time, how about you tell me a little bit about her, and I'll tell you all about me."

Before Brian even got to start the phone rang, Brian got up and got it.

"Really, that's great, I mean that you're coming home tomorrow, I'm sorry your client fell through, but I can't wait to see you. Oh, and honey, there's a surprise that I bet you're gonna be blown away by, I can't tell you what, but you'll see for yourself when you get home. No not even a little clue, but believe me, it'll be worth the wait. Okay, love you too, bye."

Gargantua raised an eyebrow. "Was that Monstra?"

"Yeah, that was her, she said that what she went out there for got cancelled, so she'll be coming home tomorrow, I guess you'll be able to meet her much earlier than you were expecting."

"Really? How do you know that? I know you said that she was supposed to be gone, what another 5 days? Well, sometimes things happen that you don't want to wait for, I know what Monstra was doing, and I knew who she was set up to meet, so I decided to pay him a visit myself, and showed him that he didn't need a skinny little cow like Monstra, when he could have a grade A Angus bull like myself. Of course he cancelled all of his appointments after the day I gave him, he came so much from masturbating to me that he won't be able to produce sperm again for 2 weeks! So little Monstra went out there for nothing, and while she's away, I'd thought that I'd introduce myself to you, and ruin you for any other woman just like I did him."

"Why? Why would you do something like that?" He asked fearful of her intentions.

"Because I like to dominate, not mentally, but physically, I like to see people who think they're such big deals realize the truth, that no matter how big or powerful they are, there's always someone bigger and stronger out there. When Monstra made her big news out there on that bodybuilding stage, blowing away all the men, I saw that in the news, on TV, how she dominated that stage with her size. But she doesn't hold a candle to me. As big as she was there at the contest? I was that big when I was 31 years old, and I've been pushing myself harder since that time, to become what you see before you. Well, actually, what you see before you is not even close to as big, as ripped, as chiseled as I can get when I'm fully pumped. But you get the point. When Monstra became the fantasies of so many guys with her performance, her body, I knew it was time to reveal myself to the public, but not all at once. No, I decided to visit men that have had sessions with Monstra, men who have professed their undying lust and loyalty to her. That guy in California wasn't the first, nope, but you, I plan on making the last. Because you have fallen in love with Monstra and she has fallen in love with you back, so taking you from her, and her from you, that would be my ultimate act of domination!"

"You're a horrible person, I can't stand for this, I want you to get out of my house right now!"

Gargantua smirks in response, "Oh, do you really mean that, boy? You're not curious to see my fully flexed physique? You don't want to know how strong I am, how much bigger and stronger than your little girlfriend I happen to be?"

Brian takes a deep breath. He knew she was right, he had been wanting to see her body in all it's glory, he wanted to see the comparison between Monstra and Gargantua, there was no denying it in his mind that he couldn't send Gargantua from out that door without seeing her flex her insanely huge muscles just once.

"Okay, I don't mean that, but I don't like your attitude. It is meant to be for Monstra and me, she is everything I ever wanted in a woman. It's not just her body, because to tell you the truth, even I can see, without you even flexing, you're bigger than her, you're better than her, but it's her personality, she's loving, caring, she has a kind heart, and her determination is just about second to none. In the 5 months I've known her, I feel she's helped me become a better man, I want her to be my wife. Even if you destroy her body, even if you get 3 times as big as her, and can lift this house off it's foundation, I won't leave her for you. But I can tell you that it will be intriguing to see what you will look like in your fully flexed state, exciting even, to see your body in comparison to Monstra, but I can't see myself leaving her for you, ever. If that's your plan, then I can tell you right now, you're going to fail."

"We shall see, little man, we shall see. You may not like my attitude now, but when you see what I have in store for you, and for your dear Monstra, you may change your mind." Gargantua raised her hand and told Brian to kiss it. Brian was struggling, a command from Gargantua carried a lot of weight, and his loyalty to Monstra was seemingly on the line, he resisted with all the force he could muster, but something in her eyes drained him of whatever will he had left and he marched himself forward and reluctantly leaned down to kiss her hand. Gargantua burst into an evil laugh as she made another unwilling subject do her bidding.

"Next comes your little girlfriend."

The laughing echoed around the room, accompanied by agonized sobs coming from Brian. He tried, only Monstra could save him now.

***

Gargantua's story

When Martha Jackson Lee was born, the doctor's found out that she had no myostatin receptors, meaning that there was no turn off switch when it came to how much muscle and strength she could achieve. This made her naturally athletic, and any exertion that she put her body through, from a very young age, made her muscles grow and made her stronger. By the time she was 12 years old, she was 5 feet tall, but weighed an amazing 160 pounds, and she hadn't even lifted a weight in her life. She was just your typical tomboy, who played sports against boys, and never ever lost. Her biceps were 18 inches already, and she found that boys, and even some men consistently wanted to arm wrestle her. Even men as big as 6'4 and 300 pounds couldn't put her arm down to the mat. She amazed with her muscle and strength. At 18, she reached her current height of 5'10 and weighed in at 250 pounds of muscle, her arms were 23 and her chest stood out 5 inches in front of her rib cage, her chest measured 58 inches around... and she still hadn't taken up weightlifting.

Her nickname, the name to which she now answers only, came about when she was 26. It was then that she finally decided to join a gym, she weighed 400 pounds and was bigger than any male bodybuilder at the gym. A male trainer approached her and asked how she got her muscles, saying that they surpassed huge and bordered on gargantuan, this made her smile widely. She said she just piled on muscle naturally. He asked if she took any drugs, she shook her head, saying absolutely not, this muscle is 100% natural. She flexed her biceps, which were now 28 inches around, she said that she was interested in pumping those monsters up bigger than anyone in the World has ever seen. Not realizing that currently, her's were beyond a shadow of a doubt, the biggest in the World. But the trainer didn't tell her that, he was mesmerized by her and decided to take her under his wing and try to get her as big as possible. He even decided to see how her body reacted to steroids, and it so happened that as big as her body grew naturally, when it was exposed to steroids, it grew bigger faster.

After 5 years of intense, steroid filled workouts, Gargantua was now 680 pounds, her biceps were 40 inches around, and her chest was over 100 inches around. She couldn't find any decent weights in the weight room, so she went outside, and decided to start lifting cars and trucks to get a pump. This only went so far, at 36, she could lift a full sized bus above her head with barely any effort. At the time she was 800 pounds and could barely find clothes enough to fit her, but that is nothing compared to how big and strong she became over the 15 years since then.

Currently, the only thing that she can wear is black colored masking tape over her nipples since no top could ever be made to fit even her relaxed super muscled torso. She often wears a robe, made out of a full sized extra double wide camping tent that just barely covers her whole body, during the rare times she goes out in public. For her bottoms, she wears a black thong, one with enough material to be a bedspread on a queen sized bed, but because of her enormous gluteal muscles, it just barely covers her. Because of her immense lat and arm muscles, she can't bend down to do it herself, so she has one of her many slaves do it for her. Her weight is 1345 pounds of incredible dense muscle, and we'll go through her measurements when Monstra joins the party in a little while.

***

Monstra unlocked the front door with her key and entered.

"Honey, I'm home! God that sounds so cheesy." she said under her breath.

"I'm in the kitchen, babe. Welcome home, I'm sorry again about you having to come home so early."

"Don't worry about it, baby, so where's this big surprise you have for me?"

"It's in the basement, darling, just waiting for you to try it out."

"What is it? A new weight machine, a new stack of plates, is it that extra strength stair climber that you promised me a while back? I need to get my legs a little bit more ripped and that would help out a great deal."

"Oh, I'm not gonna say yet, I'll just say that it's big, well huge really, and it'll definitely exercise you until you're in agony. Shall we go down?"

"Wait, let me get my workout clothes on, then I'll meet you down there."

"S..sure no problem, see you down there babe."

5 minutes later, Monstra chugged down the stairs, which were reinforced concrete, luckily for both her and Gargantua, had they been anything but, there's no way in hell any stairs could've held up to that kind of weight coming down on it. When Monstra stepped into the middle of the room facing the mirrors of her makeshift gym, it was then that she noticed a huge object moving, coming out of the shadows, she turned around and fell back in shock at the vision of Gargantua.

"Surprise, little Monstra, my name is Gargantua, and I have come here to challenge you to a muscle off. As you can see, in my current condition, I already outstrip you, but I hear that you have a determination and will to grow that can't be matched, well, you're going to need it if you're going to keep up with me."

"Gargantua is it? I can see that you're impressive, you're the surprise that Brian was referring to? Where is Brian, what have you done with him?"

"Brian is completely fine, but he's under my control, see, Monstra, I get what I want, I have what some might call a magnetic personality, and Brian wants to please me, because if he doesn't, who knows what could happen?" With that, Gargantua punched the concrete wall that she was standing next to, a 4 foot thick wall that was part of the foundation of the house, the punch shook the house so severely that Monstra had trouble keeping her footing, and nearly 2 feet of the brick that held the house up was completely annihilated by the punch. Monstra knew that concrete was reinforced, made up of some of the hardest material created, a grenade could barely dent it, it would take 10 pounds of dynamite to make a mark the size that Gargantua just did. Monstra was taken aback by the power that Gargantua just effortlessly demonstrated, but she knew she had to hold her ground, she loved Brian and wouldn't let this monster have him if she had anything to do with it.

"Gargantua, I accept your contest, you make the rules, if I win, you leave me and Brian alone and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

"And if I win?"

"You get me, and Brian, we'll both be your slaves, for as long as you want us, or until we can win our freedom."

"And how would you go about winning your freedom, little one?"

'Little one' thought Monstra, this woman must be insane...then again she did have lots of pounds and inches on Monstra.

"Well, I think that would be obvious, we wrestle each other, if you win, we continue to be your slaves, if I win, me and Brian are free from your clutches and you..."

"Slink back into the hole I crawled out of, yes obviously."

"Exactly, so how do we do this muscle off?"

"Well, it's like a bodybuilding contest, we pump up a little so we get our muscles primed and to their biggest, and then we do 5 poses, whoever's bigger and more symmetrical wins. And we will take my size advantage out of it, I'm 9 inches taller and I probably weigh at least 500 pounds more than you, so I'll leave it up to Brian to decide if you're proportionally as big as me or not."

"But if Brian is under your power he will not be objective at all, he will pick you in every category."

"Alright, Brian, come here."

Brian does without thinking. "When I snap my fingers, you will be yourself again, you will be objective when judging this contest, and if you think that Monstra is proportionally bigger and more symmetric, then you have my permission to pick her in that category." Gargantua snapped her fingers, and Brian seemed to come out of a daze.

"Monstra, I'm so sorry, there was nothing I could do. She's so powerful, not only physically, but mentally."

"Shhh, it's alright, honey. I'm going to get us out of this, one way or another. Just do the best you can judging us, alright?"

"Oh man, I don't know if I can handle this, I mean both of you together, I don't know if I could control myself."

Gargantua giggled, then took a bottle out of a pocket in her robe.

"That's why I brought this along, it's full of salt-peter pills, you take these and you mind will be in full control, because your hormones will be suppressed fully. You can judge without having to lose yourself to your libido, by the time the contest is over, you will be able to react to all the awesome muscle that you will have seen. And the winner, whoever it is, (saying 'as if there's any doubt it will be me' under her breath,) will give you a present you will never forget."

Brian takes a pill and immediately it began working, as his erection quickly became flaccid and he took a seat. "Okay, ladies, I'm ready, please take your places."

***

The Posedown (where the story really begins!)

The basement was a huge room, it took up the whole house and then some, it's dimensions were 50 feet x 35 feet, but because of the level of huge women that took up a lot of the space, you'd think it was a rickety little thing. It's ceilings were 20 feet high, mostly because of the immense weight machines that filled half of it.

Brian cleared his throat, "Okay, here's the rules ladies, I will be marking you for size, definition, proportionality, symmetry, and performance, you will do 5 different poses, use your own style in performing those poses, but try to keep within the bounds of the pose, no free-styling, you will be judged on that. Okay, starting on the song. First pose, side chest."

Had Brian not taken the salt-peter, I'm not sure that he could've held back, because the display of immense female muscle that greeted his eyes would've drained him in one go. Gargantua's size advantage was pronounced, as her beach ball sized pectorals grew to near double their relaxed size, but it was the definition that really blew Brian's circuits, but Monstra didn't have to take a backseat to her, even though she weighed 550 pounds less than Gargantua, her pecs may not have been as big, but the striations, the veins, the separation between one pec from the other was at least 14 inches deep. Not that Gargantua's 20 inch deep pectorals didn't set her apart, but the fact that the size difference was as big as it was, the fact that Monstra was only giving away six inches was incredible! The thing that put Monstra in the lead was her symmetry, Gargantua was upper body heavy, and while her legs were tremendous for anyone, her upper body overpowered her lower body, while Monstra's lower body was just as proportionally big and defined as her upper body, which is to say extremely defined. First pose Monstra 15, Gargantua 19. Lower score wins.

"Second Pose, front abdominal pose."

Obviously, this was the pose that Brian was looking forward to the most, since he was denied seeing Gargantua’s abs in all their glory the last night. He knew that even looking at her relaxed abs, that was nowhere near to what they would look like when she actually flexed them, and he was absolutely right! While Monstra was straining to get every single bit of definition and veins to appear on her shredded abs, Gargantua actually smiled, as she knew she had this one in the bag, she took a deep breath and crunched down, and anyone who enjoys abs at that point would have exploded in their pants, Brian was lucky that he had that salt-peter in his system, because he would've cum so hard that he'd be unconscious, but with the biggest smile of euphoria on his face. Gargantua's mid-section made brick walls look puny in comparison, she not only looked bullet-proof, she looked missile and grenade proof as well. If Brian decided to count every single different piece of muscle that existed in Gargantua's torso, it'd take him hours, perhaps days. It was with a slightly heavy heart that Brian had to give this round to Gargantua 12 to Monstra's 16. It was tied 31 to 31, one pose won a piece.

"Third Pose, Back double biceps."

Brian had not yet seen the full expanse of Gargantua's back, and he knew that was one of Monstra's strong points, her back was wider than she was tall, she often liked to tease him by not being able to get in the house with her back spread to it's utmost. Gargantua's back, to say the least, was awesome to witness expand in front of Brian's eyes though, he couldn't believe how wide it was, first she did a back lat spread to show it's width, which was well over her own height, I would venture to guess that her bat-like lat wings spread to just about 7 feet! Had he not been objective, he would have given her the points right then and there, but he had to judge the pose, which was a double biceps pose, not a lat spread. Still, her back was even better than Monstra's, but he wasn't only looking at the back, he was looking at every single muscle he could see and also the symmetry and poise. Gargantua's upper body once again took away from her lower body, while Monstra kept her lower body in perfect symmetry with her upper body. Her glutes were awesomely ripped, which Gargantua couldn't say, sure, her's were striated, but Monstra's striations were deeper and more numerous. At the same time, Gargantua's weaker legs just didn't have the definition or relative size that Monstra's stronger legs had. But Brian kept the vote close, Monstra 13, Gargantua 15. Monstra had the two to one lead, which lead to the 4th pose, one of Brian's favorites, the Double Biceps pose.

"Okay ladies, show me the front double biceps now."

Both huge women turned around, readied themselves and then both hit their absolute best double biceps pose. Brian again was blown away by the sheer mass and definition that both women had attained. But once again Gargantua's clear size advantage couldn't stop his wandering eye from just devouring her physique. In that pose, he couldn't deny that she was not only far bigger in the biceps area, but she had definition so ingrained in her torso that even her armpits had striations and veins running in them. Monstra, well, against anyone else in the World, man or woman, she would've won hands down, but Gargantua's size, definition, and pure magnetism in that position overcame any deficiencies that her lower body brought around again. Brian was once again sad to find that he couldn't vote against Gargantua, he gave her 14 and Monstra 18. The total score was 60 to 61, with Gargantua claiming the smaller score.

One last pose would decide the contest, a pose that Brian would normally cream over when Monstra did it in front of him, not just because of the size and definition that she showed when doing it, it was in that pose, where Monstra showed her determination, her baser animal instincts, she roared in superiority when she did this pose, Brian's personal favorite, the Most Muscular Pose.

"One last post ladies, this is for the contest, I will reveal that you are tied, 2 poses a piece, so whoever wins this pose will win the contest, I can also tell you that the salt-peter is starting to wear off, so if you're able to make me cum during this pose, that's about as good as a win in and of itself, and I will award it to you, so good luck." He said this in particular to Monstra, who knew of his love of this pose and how many times it got him off in the past.

Well, my dear reader, as you can guess, Brian was treated to one of the most devastating displays of ripped, huge, awesomely defined, veintastical, mind blowing, cum blasting, sense rending muscle that you could ever imagine in your life. Gargantua took the early lead in the contest, which lingered on more than any of the other poses, just because Brian took time to savor each and every mesmerizing second of it. Well, Gargantua, she blasted the pose hard right from the beginning, her already enormous traps were towering even farther over her head than usual, at least 3 and a half feet over her head, the shoulders they were attached to looked twice as big as a pair of 16 pound bowling balls. Her immense pecs looked so huge and ripped that he knew know that he could stick his entire arm up to the shoulder into the cleft between them! But he knew Monstra was not going to lose this contest, so when he was done eating Gargantua up with his eyes, he turned to his amour, and he was nearly blown back at the sight of her!

Monstra was in her element here. In this pose, she let herself draw into every single muscle in her body, with her intense determination to grow bigger for her man, she allowed herself to expend every single amount of energy into the pose, so she could grow more muscular and more defined, and it damn sure showed! Monstra's own trap muscles were beyond anything Brian had ever seen from her, they towered over her head at nearly 2 feet! Considering the fact that Gargantua could put more muscle on her frame because of her 9 inch height advantage, even the most ardent fans of size had to agree that nearly blew Gargantua out of the water! Her shoulders not only looked harder that Gargantua's, they looked proportionally larger, and Brian didn't think that could be done! Her pecs were incredible from this position, while they may not have been as deep as Gargantua's, Brian definitely could lose a lot of fairly large objects in the enormous cleft that she had. Not only that, the intense striations she had in each of her pectoral mountains just showed incredibly deep themselves, much more of a match for Gargantua. Brian saw her face and it was what finally set him off, because he saw so much determination that the pose was actually hurting her, but she held it and squeezed so much effort into it that large veins were showing from her neck up to her forehead and across her face. He blew his wad with such intensity that his body shook, he nearly passed out from it. After a couple of seconds to catch his breath, he made the pronouncement of the winner.

"That's it, the contest is over, Monstra, you are the champion of my heart and my soul, Gargantua, you were huge and ripped beyond belief, but Monstra just couldn't be beaten today."

Gargantua went crazy with rage from Brian's pronouncement. She rushed up to Brian and shoved the table out of the way.

"Oh hell no! I'm the bigger, I'm the stronger, ain't no way that little cow is better than me."

Gargantua took a grip on his shirt and drew her huge right fist back. But the punch never came.

"Take your hands off him, you big ass bitch!" Monstra said as she caught Gargantua's arm and turned her around. "You may be bigger than me, but if you threaten the man I love, then I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp. You're gonna....oof!"

She got caught off guard with a punch to the stomach, but the blow did little more than stun her, it didn't quite hurt. Monstra was high on adrenaline, and when the shock wore off, she herself threw a hard right into Gargantua's plate of muscle abs. Those abs had at time been run into with cars and trucks, they had in fact deflected rubber bullets, but Monstra's power was off the charts because of the adrenaline, and her fist exploded with so much power into Gargantua's immovable abs, that Gargantua fell to her knees and retched on the floor.

"Ugh, noooo, that's impossible, my abs are bullet proof, no one has been able to hurt them since I was a teenager. How?"

"Ever see the Monkees? Well, let me paraphrase a line from one of their shows, a woman in love has the strength of thousands, or in this case, maybe hundreds of thousands. Now, you can leave this house out of your own free will, or I'll remove you, and that'll be a lot more painful for you."

Monstra took a grip on Gargantua's wrist and yanked it behind her back in a hammer lock, she drove Gargantua up the stairs of the basement and out the front door of the house. Then she tossed her on her knees in the front drive way and stood above her, in a supergirl type pose.

"Well, what's it going to be?" Monstra said, with pure power behind her threatening pose.

"Okay, I'll leave, you won this round, bitch. But this won't be the last you see of me, I'll be back. This won't happen again, be sure of it!"

"Yeah, well, we won't be sitting still here either, you big goof, if you come back, I'll be ready."

The End... for now

THE SUPER STRENGTH SHOWDOWN - challenge 2

2011-03-15T14:19:00.000-05:00

THE SUPER-STRENGTH SHOWDOWN

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.

More monster MONSTRA art!

2011-03-14T11:05:00.000-05:00

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.

Monster MONSTRA art!

2011-03-13T20:43:00.000-05:00

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.

THE SUPER-STRENGTH SHOWDOWN

2011-03-11T15:59:00.001-05:00

THE SUPER-STRENGTH SHOWDOWN

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.

MOVING DAY

2010-07-08T14:30:00.006-05:00

A little while back, artist Ayanamifan asked me to do a short story featuring a character of his named KIRA. Since he had generously gifted me with an awesome Monstra drawing a few months back, I was happy to oblige (also, I have a soft spot for stories featuring sexy, muscle-bound girls lifting heavy objects.) I've also attached a piece of art he did after I sent the story to him. Enjoy!

Moving Day

(Characters created by Ayanamifan)

Egon heard a loud knock at the door. It sounded like a Rhino was ramming the house.

"I'll get it!" He shouted as he crossed the family room.

He opened the front door to find a human brick wall blocking the entire entrance. His first thought was that some meaty Norwegian weightlifter had arrived at the wrong address. That was until he saw the familiar blonde braid draped down the stretched-out sweater.

Kira turned around and beamed at the slender student. "Morning, Egon. We ready to do this?" She spoke, her voice warm and confident to the core.

Egon simply stared at the beautiful teen beefcake in front of him. He'd known Kira for years but the sheer spectacle of her super-sized physique always blew his mind.

"Um... can I come in?" She asked, a small grin pursing her beautiful lips.

"Oh! Yeah, of course!" He opened the door wider but it wasn't nearly enough. Kira turned sideways to fit through, her intense chest and dense, heavy back scraping paint from the edges of the doorframe.

She arrived in a chaotic room filled with boxes. A grey-haired man with a cane appeared in a nearby doorway and glared at her.

"Who the hell are you?"

Egon scrambled over. "Dad, this is Kira. She's going to help us load the moving truck."

The man's eyes tightened. "We need strong backs Egon, not your cutey girlfriend."

"I already told you Dad, Kira's really, really strong."

The old man examined the blonde's blocky body. A blue track suit was visibly stretched across abnormally powerful dimensions.

"Fine. We need everything loaded into the truck by lunchtime." He spat. "You think you can handle that, sweetie?"

Kira looked at Egon and smiled knowingly. "I do love a challenge."

The beautiful teen proceeded to unzip her top and peel it off revealing a staggeringly muscular upper-body packed into a tiny, midriff-baring tank-top. Neither Egon nor his Dad could believe the outrageous magnitude of Kira’s rippling, veiny physique. Her thick neck, shoulders and arms were as impressive as the strongest muscle-men they’d ever seen and seemed even more cut. Her chest was a dense plate of ripped pectorals with only the slightest, saddest little boobs seemingly in danger of being flexed out of existence.

Kira enjoyed the men’s stares as she stretched. She produced ghastly striations across her triceps and delts like strumming guitar strings.

“Don’t try to keep up.” Kira advised kindly. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

First up was a three-seater couch. The incredible female bodybuilder reached down and picked it up with a throaty grunt. Egon gawked as her visibly straining back swelled like a surging wave of meaty muscle mass. She easily carried the couch out the front door and placed it in the van.

She returned in the blink of an eye and looked at an easy chair. She quickly decided to scoop-up a stack of nearby boxes and place them on the chair before lifting all of it together. Egon could hear the stitches of her shirt creak loudly under the strain of her swelling lats and chest.

Within 45 minutes, Kira had emptied the entire house. As she returned to the family room, she struggled to get through the front door without smashing it down.

Egon and his Dad could barely believe their eyes. Kira was dripping with sweat - her hard nipples poking obscenely through her wet, clingy top. Her entire body had become so awesomely pumped that it seemed impossible. Her arms and chest specifically looked almost twice as big as they had been less than an hour ago. Bloated, purple-blue veins were surging across her bicep heads and snaked across her deeply-sliced shoulder blades.

“Geeze, Kira. You’re really getting a workout...!” Egon stuttered.

“I wish. You don’t have anything heavy enough to give me a challenge.” The brawny beauty replied. It was remarkable that she’s remained as sexy and attractive as a runway model despite the angry, monster-sized muscles threatening to explode through her skin.

“Well, there is still the piano.” Egon injected cautiously.

***

Kira opened the garage door and peered at an old, dusty piano in the corner.

“I thought it was gonna be too heavy to move so I figured we’d sell it.” Egon explained.

A wild-eyed grin formed across Kira’s sweaty face. “Oh yeah - this’ll be fun.” She exclaimed.

Egon watched the stunning muscle-brute approach the piano and bend down. She wrapped her fingers beneath the bottom and bent her head back. Veins popped through her forehead as she strained to lift – her skin groaning like a submarine hull. The piano rose off the ground, one side first.

Egon was astounded. The thing must have weighed 500 pounds. Kira’s head disappeared behind a rapidly expanding back build like a bomb shelter. Vascularity snaked through her wide anatomy with furious, spider web purpose.

The other side of the piano lifted and Kira began to rise. Muffled huffs and strains escaped her red, veiny face. She straightened all the way up and leaned the huge thing back, the height of it rising a half-dozen feet above her head. She turned and looked at Egon with a frightening, snarling smile.

“Where do you want it?”

Egon pointed to the van and Kira stomped past him with slow, lumbering steps. He could see the massive shape and detail of her flexing legs right through her over-burdened pants. Her arms were terrifying Roman columns as thick as his whole body.

She finally dropped the piano down in the van with controlled piston-power. Egon looked at her as she wiped her dripping face.

“That was fun.” She laughed through deep breaths. “I don't suppose you have anything else like that?”

Egon shook his head.

“Aw. Too bad.”

As the muscle-bound beauty climbed out the van she noticed one the vehicle's tires sagging.

“Hey, I think you’ve got a flat, dude.”

The small teen peered at the limp rear tire.

“Ah man.” He sneered. He rushed over to house and shouted through the door. “Dad! The truck’s got a flat tire! Where’s the jack?”

Kira kept her gaze on the tire, letting her mind churn. She glanced up at the contents of the tightly-packed truck and felt a bolt of excitement shoot through her.

“Forget the jack, Egon.” She suggested politely. “Just get the spare ready.”

Egon wasn’t sure what she meant until he saw her kneel down at the bumper of the truck.

“No way...” He muttered. Even Kira wasn't THAT strong.

As if focusing herself at proving him wrong, Kira’s youthful face tightened into a wrinkled, ragged mask of laser-focused concentration. Her stunning looks momentarily vanished as she grunted and spat with super-human effort. Egon heard the truck shriek as its colossal weight shifted to the rear – square onto Kira’s mutant muscle-ball shoulders.

“Gnnnnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!!” The gleaming, muscle-stuffed beefcake snarled. Her bulldog neck thickened alarmingly, doubling in width and snapping a necklace she had on. Her arms vanished behind a limbless meat-shield back that began to pop stitches. A rapid earthquake of horribly bloated back beef suddenly burst her tank top wide open.

Somehow, Kira actually lifted the back of the huge, fully-loaded cube-van an inch off the driveway. It was the most incredible feat of strength Egon had ever seen. His father walked outside and his jaw dropped. He stared unbelieving at his son’s grotesquely muscular friend pressing the whole van up all by herself.

Kira shifted her humongous thighs, sending waves of striations in all directions. Her pants simply couldn’t handle the overload of excited girl meat and abruptly tore open all the way to her knees. Eye-popping slabs of hyper-developed muscle burst forth like crazy, bronze tsunami.

Readjusting her grip, Kira looked to the sky with bloodshot eyes and let out a beastly roar. Her arms detonated with the most demented, gag-inducing vascularity imaginable and the truck rose higher. She actually had to widen her hands to allow her inflating muscles room to grow. By the time she finished lifting the entire back end of the truck to waist level, she had transformed into a literal Frankenstein’s monster right before Egon’s eyes.

“O-okay... !” She muttered softly. “You can change the tire now!”

It took Egon and his Dad 7 long minutes to get the tires switched. Kira kept the truck held high the whole time without a word of complaint, though the loud rattling of the contents inside reminded them of her extreme effort. By the time they finished, she was so purple and veiny that she was virtually unrecognizable.

With an Earth-shaking crash, she dropped the truck back to the ground. Egon could only stare at the soaking wet girl-thing panting before him, huge and ugly with muscles that defied description. Her wet hair was stuck to her neck – her clothes mostly destroyed. A tatter of her once-proud tank top covered the pathetic sliver of breasts and nipples that seemed like a cruel joke on her testosterone-fed chest.

"Whew..." She breathed, seemingly unaware of her utterly inhuman pump. "That everything?"

The father and son nodded weakly.

"Cool. I feel like hitting the gym."

Jenna Steele by FX-MAN!

2010-05-06T18:38:00.002-05:00

To celebrate the long overdue return of HARDBODY, here's a picture I had commissioned last year by FX-MAN. It goes without saying that I think it kicks ass. What do you think? Post a comment and let us know!

The return of HARDBODY!

2010-05-03T10:40:00.002-05:00

I can't believe it's been more than 2 years since I posted the last HARDBODY story (chapter 9 was posted in November 2007)! I've mentioned on a few occasions that this series has always had a very "fly by the seat of my pants" storyline which is the main reason it's been so difficult to write. I feel confident about where it's headed now, so hopefully the wait between future chapters will be considerably less.

HARDBODY - chapter 10

2010-05-03T10:32:00.005-05:00

HARDBODY

Chapter 10 – Maxed-out

Linus couldn't get Jenna out of his head. After witnessing the teenaged she-hulk flex through her clothes in front the entire English class, his school boy crush had officially accelerated into rampant, rapturous lust.

In his horny, sex-crazed mind, Jenna was a goddess in human form. It only added to her unbearable appeal that she didn't seem to realize it. He adored her mousy personality, those cute little glasses and her simmering, steamy mix of brains and brawn. He marveled at her name - "Jenna Steele". It was like she was destined to become a bulging high school Hercules.

No matter how hard he tried, Linus couldn't figure out how cute little Jenna – shy, bookworm Jenna, had managed to build such a freakish physique. Her brutal, bulldozer dimensions were so completely masculine that he was almost ashamed of his endless supply of boners. Almost.

The school bell rang and Linus shuffled between classes, his head filled with erotic images of Jenna's pumped-up body. Ignoring his English lecture, he poured his deviant mind onto paper. He sketched with reckless abandon, tearing through gender boundaries and drawing the grossest, most demented muscle-mutants he could imagine. They couldn't possibly be women, even with the misplaced pigtails and glasses he gave them – but that was the point. To his frustration, he still couldn't produce anything that even came close to Jenna.

Math class was spent picturing Jenna’s beastly dimensions squeezed into the entire Victoria's Secret catalogue. Just the thought of something so dainty forced over Jenna’s straining bulges was hugely perverse. He imagined her walking out from the bathroom, a see-thru one-piece strangled to death by her swollen, linebacker shoulders. Her behemoth chest would utterly destroy the small cups meant for a normal girl’s bosom. The outfit would be forced to its breaking point across the big, boiling muscle-furnace between her legs exposing every inch of twisting vascularity needed to feed her the monster muscle pussy he'd had a glimpse of.

He went on to imagine her blushed face - equal parts aroused and humiliated, peering at him wantonly. Her lips were wet, lustful and hungry with desire.

She'd be a super-freak in bed, the very definition of a horny bodybuilder. He’d have her dance at a stripper pole while he watched her lean anatomy dance with sinew. Her movements are awkward and clumsy - the cost of so much bulk, yet the mind-blowing extremity was massively enticing.

The bell suddenly snapped him out of his daze. It was good timing – a minute more and he might have blown a load in his pants. He looked at the clock and realized it was three o’clock. He snatched his bags and shot out the door.

***

This was the day he been building towards for the last two weeks. Linus felt a knot in his stomach - it was his old friends panic and dread.

There was three and a half months left until prom. He knew that he had to act or risk losing her forever. The plan was to confess his undying love for Jenna and ask her to the dance. She'd be so taken by a guy who worshipped her rippling body that she'd drop that deadbeat Ed in a heartbeat.

Standing at her front door, he reached for the bell. As his finger approached, it slowed and shook.

Nope, he couldn't do it. He was a big fat pussy who couldn't talk to girls. He hated himself to his pale, doughy core.

Glanced around, Linus had another idea. Perhaps what he needed was the proper motivation.

Hopping over the fence, the nervous high schooler snuck around to the side of the house and found the basement window. His heart was already racing, not from his brash actions but from the mere thought of seeing Jenna’s delicious biceps flexing into soccer balls of stone.

Even before he knelt down he could hear furious noises coming through the window - grunting, screaming, crying - all of it rattling the window pane. Every so often, a massive impact like an industrial pile-driver shook the walls to the foundation.

The glass was fogged-up, frustrating Linus' view. He tried to wipe away the condensation to no avail. He could make out Jenna below, her immense back to him working two stacks of weights each as large as a dishwasher. The foggy glass obscured the finer details, leaving him with shape and motion only.

Immediately Linus' eyes widened at the sight of Jenna's super-human wingspan. She was an endless concrete wall of she-meat wider than the machine she was using. Her lats looked like enormous wings reaching almost to her outstretched forearms. The massive set of traps piled high on her shoulders covered most of her head making her seem weirdly misshapen.

Linus pressed his face against the window lusting for a better view. It must have been a trick of the glass - even Jenna wasn't that wide. She was as big as a car!

As he watched her work the weights, the endless clanging metal was a seismic event to his eardrums. Jenna herself was a growling, spitting animal forged by determination. Every agonizing rep seemed to inject her with outrageous volumes of muscle mass. Right before his eyes her back thickened-out alarmingly- her shoulders swelled beneath visibly over-taxed skin.

After a five-minute flurry of punishment, Jenna released the weights. They hit the ground so hard that Linus was knocked off his feet.

He could hear the freaky muscle-teen breathing like an animal. After a moment, she got up and started hitting poses in front of a mirror.

"Look at me, Mr. Penguin. I'm pathetic!" She cried to a couch full of stuffed animals. The contradiction between the cute, cuddly characters and Jenna's utterly ripped man-muscles was almost too much to take.

"I'm barely growing anymore. I don't have enough weights to give me a proper workout. How am I going to fill out that dress Ed gave me by prom?"

Jenna hit a side-chest pose that inflated her entire upper body like a balloon. Her body effortlessly produced muscles beyond Linus' wildest imagination. He gasped out loud, almost giving himself away. He'd never seen anything so demented in his life. She looked like another species. That she thought she could possibly add another millimeter of muscle anywhere on her body was totally mental!

"I'm such a loser!" Jenna continued. "I can't even afford to buy supplements, let alone new gym equipment. What am I going to do?"

Linus turned away from the window for a moment, the gears of his mind starting to turn. He hated to see Jenna so upset. What could he do to help?

The peeping Tom's train of thought was quickly interrupted by Jenna's next words.

"I guess I'll hit the shower..."

Linus' neck turned so fast it almost snapped.

He gawked as Jenna took the bottom of her enormous muscle-shirt and lifted it over her head. It dropped on the floor beside her in a wet pile.

The testosterone-jacked girly-freak stood topless before him, her every tanned, beefcake inch gleaming and slick. She looked at the mirror again.

"Wow, girl. Your pecs are starting to get big." She noted, tensing each beefy, tit-less mass. She bounced them alternatively in a shocking display of man-shamming muscle-control.

Linus started to drool. He'd seen some of the bigger male bodybuilders bounce their chests like that but he never imagined a woman could do it, and do it better than any of them. It was so twisted!

Other than her barn-door back, Jenna's chest was the most gender-bending part of her perverted body. Her chest muscles simply erupted like a volcano from her over-sized torso and completely dominated her. Even under the baggiest tops there was no mistaking her for a 'roid-raging muscle-man, except that she was an eighteen year old girl.

Jenna twisted and turned in different directions, marveling at her unnerving masculinity. She was absolutely butch to the core, even beast-like. Tensing her stomach, she willed dozens of ugly, squirming vein-hoses all the way up her abs to her arm pits. The jagged edges of her carved-from-steel chest crumpled under further flexation, becoming almost impossibly striated. Claws of beef-jerky sinew dug deep into her flesh. A blank space as wide as three fingers separated each pec-planet in a screaming monument to her gut-wrenching condition.

"Ooooohhh....." Jenna moaned, somehow aroused by the grotesque extremity of her own bursting muscles. She ran her hands down her wet stomach feeling every jagged ridge and squirmy vein. It wasn't long before those hands vanished down her baggy workout pants.

Moving closer to the mirror, Jenna gazed into her own eyes. She looked at her massively fat lips and licked them lewdly. A few bites made them even thicker and juicier until they seemed ready to pop. She started to kiss the mirror, slowly at first, then ever more forcefully until she was flat-out frenching her own reflection like a horny, bodybuilding slut.

Linus leaned against the window to get a better look, his heart beating like a drum. He knew from the internet how freaky female bodybuilders could get but Jenna was off the hook! As he pressed his weight against the glass and the window snapped open. He yelled and fell into the room.

Jenna pulled back from the mirror - strands of spit dangling from her mouth, and turned around. She cutely covered her nipples in embarrassment - her tiny hands dwarfed by the sheer immensity of her over-muscled he-chest.

"L-Linus White?!" She squeaked, her voice so weirdly soft and feminine. "What are you doing here?!!"

She grabbed a blanket from the couch and threw it over herself.

Linus tried to fight through the burning in his head but he was too slow.

"Were you... spying on me?" Jenna blurted. "Oh gross!"

Now the panic was really hitting. Linus got to his knees and started pleading.

"No, it isn't what it looks like!" He rambled, his sentences delirious. "I came to ask you to the prom and I couldn't find the nerve to ring the doorbell but I heard some noises and came to look and saw you working out and leaned too hard against the window and -"

Jenna's surprise waned a little as she cherry-picked a single thought out of his rambling madness.

"...You came to ask ME to the prom?"

Linus nodded. He tried to concentrate on his story but he could still see most of her ultra-cut eight-pack peeking out from the blanket. It was so tanned and vascular that it didn’t look real.

"W-why would you want to go with me to the prom?" Jenna asked shyly - a trait that seemed totally ridiculous from a girl that looked like she could bench-press a jumbo-jet. "Everyone thinks I'm gross looking."

"Are you kidding? All those other people are idiots!" Linus blurted. "I think you're the hottest thing ever!"

Jenna smiled cutely. She seemed unconvinced by the notion that someone other than Ed could find her extreme muscularity attractive.

“That’s really sweet, Linus, but someone has already asked me to the --“

Before Jenna could finish, Linus butted-in.

“—I couldn’t help overhear that you need some money to buy more weight or whatever. I- err, think I know a way to help you.”

Jenna peered at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Sure! Lots of guys on the internet pay women bodybuilders money to admire their muscles. They do it over webcam right from their own houses. You have no idea how many men would kill to see muscles as big as yours! I could set the whole thing up for you – post a profile, make a PayPal account – I even have a really high-quality webcam at home.”

Jenna adjusted her glasses. She was clearly intrigued, yet hesitant.

“That sounds really great, but why do you want to help me so badly?” The titanic muscle-girl asked.

Linus paused. What was he going to say – that any excuse to stare at her sexed-up mega-muscles was a gift from God? That he whacked-off to the merest thought of her big, bursting bulges?

“I just feel bad about the way people treat you.” He lied. Hey, it was sort of true.

Jenna’s face wrinkled with happiness. Linus felt his heart skip a beat as she leaned in and hugged him. It felt like an industrial-sized car-crusher gently eclipsing his comparatively tiny frame.

“Thank-you so much, Linus! How I can ever repay you?”

Linus tried to hide the instant hard-on that had sprung to life in his pants.

“Oh, don’t worry. Helping a sweet girl like you is thanks enough.” He muttered.

“What do you need to get started?” Jenna asked excitedly.

“Well, like I said – we need to make a profile that advertises how… er, gifted you are. Do you have any photos of yourself I can scan?”

Jenna walked over to a dresser and dug around.

“I don’t think I have anything recent. My uncle’s away on business most of the time. I only see him a couple of times a year.”

The red-hot hard body returned with a few dog-eared pictures. Linus looked through them anxiously. They were mostly shots of Jenna in long dresses and heavy wool sweaters. Amazingly, she was still sporting some serious Olympia-level bulk in all of them – clearly evident through even the baggiest items - but nothing that was going to drive traffic.

After examining a few more shots, he finally came to a picture of Jenna on the beach that took his breath away. The smiling teen was wearing a modest one-piece bathing suit that was obscenely deformed on her over-muscled body. The picture was totally demented - like someone had Photo-shopped Jenna’s adorable, pig-tailed head onto the kind of grotesquely flexing heavyweight muscle-men he’d seen on magazine covers.

“That one’s pretty old.” Jenna noted with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “I was only about 300 pounds back then.”

Linus’ mouth dropped open.

“Do you think it will do?” She asked.

“Definitely…!” Linus answered.

More great ART!

2010-04-19T11:25:00.008-05:00

Some really fantastic art has made its way to me over the last few days. First up is a pic of Made-To-Order's supreme muscle girl MONSTRA by artist AYANAMIFAN.

I think this is a fearless and very successful picture. Monstra is an uncompromising mass of muscles and Ayanamifan renders her superbly. Lots of veins, lots of definition and loads of mass! Small details are paid attention to as well, such as her green eyes, short hair and rich, tanned skin. It takes a brave soul to draw veins in a girl's face (writing about it is different than seeing it), but while it detracts from her fundamental beauty, it adds a crazy, erotic intensity. Great stuff!

Check out more wonderful muscle art at: http://ayanamifan.deviantart.com

Next up is a new pic by OZZY.

I'm a big fan of Ozzy's work. He's got a loose, cartoonish style that seems at odds with his intense subject matter, yet somehow he makes it work. In the breasts vs. pecs debate there's no question which side he lands on - SARAH (as the girl above is called) is all naked, sweaty pecs.

Ozzy shares my love of grueling, animalistic workouts and gender-smashing muscle mass. I love the balls-out masculinity of Sarah's physique. My only complaint is the somewhat David Lee Roth looking face and hair. Beyond that, this image is tops!

Check out Ozzy's brand new blog at: http://ozzyfemalemuscle.blogspot.com

More "Monstra" by TIGERSAN

2010-04-05T12:07:00.000-05:00

About halfway through writing Made-to-Order, I approached CG artist extraordinaire TIGERSAN about doing some images of Monstra. These are the pics he delivered, which I believe speak for themselves.

While I definitely wanted her to be huge, I requested that Tigersan keep Monstra from being too "blocky". I felt that excessive mass would take away from the impact of Monstra's overall muscularity. I think he nailed the balance perfectly. She's obviously massive, yet remains athletic and macho.

More "Monstra" by TIGERSAN

2010-04-05T12:06:00.002-05:00

Here's a great back shot. Tigersan does fantastic backs. He really sells how heavy and dense Monstra is in the best way possible. I'm reminded of the movie "The Cell" - there's a scene where Jennifer Lopez is stalked and attacked by Kim Chizevsky. That scene always blows me away because of how ridiculously thick Kim seems compared to the waify J.Lo. I'd love to see a shot like this animated so we could see Monstra's feminine walk driving all that mass. The idea that a woman is under there is hugely appealing.

More "Monstra" by TIGERSAN

2010-04-05T12:06:00.001-05:00

This is my favorite image of the bunch. Monstra seems absolutely beastly here! While it's from a scene that ultimately got cut from the story (there seemed to be endless pages of working out without any forward momentum), Tigersan did a superb job rendering it. Her pecs in particular are just fantastic - huge and thick without losing a (somewhat) realistic sense of shape. Love the chain and weights - so primal and intense. Great stuff!

More "Monstra" by TIGERSAN

2010-04-05T11:59:00.008-05:00

There's nothing more erotic than a female bodybuilder hitting a most muscular. The whole purpose is for men to inflate every body part at once into the most aggressive shape possible, something that flies in the face of feminism itself. Tigersan does a great most muscular - he isn't afraid to get really butch and frightening. Monstra's straining her brains out here, her veins popping, striations flaring. Her arms and legs look really cut. The only thing I'd add is a more intense expression. Otherwise, top marks!

As you can see, Tigersan delivers an extremely high-quality product. His prices are a steal, so if you've got some crazy image in mind, definitely email the man. Here's where he can be found:

http://tigersan.deviantart.com/
http://www.fem-powerextreme.com/index2.htm