Since that encounter with the abhorred teenaged kid, Sarah had began to feverishly, maniacally push herself even harder still, seemingly and inexplicably inspired and fueled by his disgust, adding hours of extra gym work a day and almost ten pounds of muscle just that week. She now travelled in terribly skimpy, and on a "normal" girl provocative, outfits when leaving the sanctum of the apartment, literally anticipatingly parading her humongous, beef-injected body with the minimal amount of clothing required so as not to be arrested for lewdness.
Miniscule, stretched-to-the-limit halters, cutoffs, half-shirts and booty shorts led to looks of shock and fingerpointing, which quickly progressed to disparaging comments, gasps, and finally open-mouthed horror with her epic, ongoing growth of muscle mass, all of which Sarah absorbed lovingly, knowing that the disgust and outright fear in the faces and eyes of the "normies" she encountered only meant she was becoming more and more jacked, more freakishly massive, ever closer to her goal of becoming as muscular as was humanly and chemically possible.
What Sarah didn't realize, but I saw quite clearly (and with a terrible mix of anxiety, guilt, and wanton, uncontrollable lust), was that with every hard-fought-for, chemically mutated pound of freakish muscle she forced unnaturally onto her already staggering, record-shattering physique, her own self-image of how mindbogglingly big she really was and then how massive she yet wanted to force her body to be inched ever higher, lightyears beyond the socially acceptable norm of female physical development, and now barely, desperately, frantically grasping the edge of the line for champion male, far eclipsing female, bodybuilders as well.
Even had my unnaturally developed girlfriend wanted to try to mask her overwhelming, impossible to ignore musculature, the end effects of almost a year of juicing with multiple types, brands, and muscle-swelling potencies of physique-enhancing chemicals had made that task impossible. Regardless of what she wore, her jacked, overtly swollen bulges of muscles stood out blatantly, ostentatiously, and to most, revoltingly.
To the un-"trained" (read not a schmoe) observer, her barrel, corded neck, eclipsed in it's own epic girth by the slabs of vein-covered, bulging traps that spaced her earlobes by less than a half-inch, capped by huge swells of shoulder meat that resembled hams that had been sub-dermally, surgically inserted, screamed of steroid abuse.
My girlfriend's blocky, hugely meaty and mindbogglingly angular upper body, feet thick in circumfrence due to her bloated, beef-stuffed pecs and wide, bulging back and lat muscles, demanded a wide-eyed, shocked second look; Her disgustingly blown out, grid-worked swollen bulge of abdominals, bloated and stretched to the point where her insanely developed stomach resembled a pregnancy, requiring a swallow with disbelief; And her outrageously muscular, swollen lower body, nothing but bulges and cords of muscle from her protruding, squared and ripped to shreds glutes to the diamond shaped and hard calves commanded the rise of bile.
I was now finding excuses to not go with her when she went to the store and other walking-distance attractions around the apartment, just to avoid all the attention her drug-enhanced new body was getting, good and bad, but mostly bad. I secretly began to wonder whether she liked the worship of her followers or the gasped reactions of the general public more.
'Business', as Sarah cutely referred to it when she rarely spoke of it, was now booming for them both, there were now at least twenty clients in the city that I knew of, and the girls were out multiple times a week putting on up-close and personal, body bloating freakshows for their worshippers, parading the tiniest of skimpy bikinis, stretched to their load-bearing limits by the pair of huge, rippling, dementedly jacked muscle-girls. It was a continuous, simultaneously fantastic and terrible cycle, obscenely muscular girls making ludicrous money from very specific fetishists, to invest in becoming even more stacked and ripped - the hundreds of dollars (and on busy weeks, over a thousand dollars each) in cash a week went straight to yet more supplements, injections, and new, sexy posing outifts including skimpy thongs, laced and see-through lingerie, and different styles, sizes, and colors of tiny, Brazilian string bikinis.
Sarah would tauntingly model these new outfits for me when they arrived in the mail or from the specialty stores, completely enjoying looking for my reaction to the different types and sizes of sexy costumes, normally only inches of cloth covering the 'bare essentials', as she gave me free worship sessions of her abhorrently muscular body in her brand-new, taut, tiny attire. I greedily, selfishly enjoyed every moment of her allowed worship, filling my hands with mounds of Sarah's rock hard meat, encapsulated in fabrics soft and rough, but always stretched to the rupturing point against titantic girlie muscles. Every inch of her perverted physique screamed, writhing and bulging, with overtly masculine build, and I was the number one of very, very few people to know her insane, true, drug-fed over-development.
Sarah especially loved coming home and modeling right after her body-rending workouts. After throwing around ridiculous poundages of iron for hours at a time and blasting her body ruthlessly after the ingestion of cup-fuls of extremely potent steroids, she would sprint home from the gym and arrive at our apartment, panting and visually trembling with her prior effort. Sarah would then, surprisingly nimbly for the sake of her tremendous bulk, went to the closet to select some miniscule, usually lace filagreed set of bra and panties and through no small effort make the small fabrics stretch and mold to the completely butched-out, massive muscularity and over two hundred pound frame for which these girlish garments were clearly not designed.
The dichotomy of delicate, thin, female garments against a backdrop of rippling, meaty, steel she-muscles was simultaneously gharish and strangely, irrepressably intoxicating. An irreseistably sexy, glistening sheen of sweat and light oil covering my girlfriend's max-pumped, blood-engorged, Athenian physique, Sarah would then hunt me down, sauntering and swaying her hips girlishly (and with noticeable, surprising effort, fighting her thick columned abs and swollen quads for the movement) as she came down the long hallway, eyes half-lidded and licking her lips. With each sway of her angular hips her bulbous stomach rippled in thick meatstacks, her belly button shifting across the crevasse running the midline of her stuffed, swollen abdominals.
The dwindling remains of her once full, blatantly feminine breasts had been worked off slowly, painfully, obsessively, and her now obscenely meat-packed, angular chest was 100% pure grade-A steroid-fed she-beef, deep cuts rippling across her squared orbs of thick, armor plated pectoral muscles that formed a mindboggling crevasse of ripped striations and veiny cleavage.
Sarah's waistline now looked relatively, oddly tiny when compared to her ridiculously wide upper body, the last, stubborn stanchion of a feminine torso immediately, cruelly eclipsed by her hips erupting to acquiesce the prominent cobbled, rounded protruding bulge of her abdominal wall, blocks of shredded glutes, and the rippling cords of meat-injected intercostals framed by the ominous, figure-changing swells of the beginnings of lat-wings to the rear.
"How jacked am I, my little muscle-lovin' boy? I just LOVE being this huge, I wish I had started juicing and lifting when I was in junior high, can't you just imagine, sweetie? All big and swoll as a high-schooler, straight packing on massive muscles, and of course I'd be SO much more jacked up now," she would taunt with soft whispers and emphasis on descriptors of her bulging physique, once she was just far enough from me to be tantalizingly just out of reach.
While teasing me vocally, Sarah was simultaneously performing cruelly pectoral-bloating sidechest poses and then eyepopping, muscle-tit bobbing and deltoid erupting crab-poses, which also flattened her ears to the sides of her head, earrings pressed against her prominent cheekbones, forced into position by the tremendous and garish thickness of her packed trapezius muscles. With each pose and flex of her prodigious, proud mountains of naturally impossible girl-meat, the lingerie would look tinier and tinier against her expanding, increasingly veiny mass.
"Gonna be bigger than Bree now, SO thick and pumped with muscle! I'm your freak, your big, pumped, muscle fuck-girl, your GODDESS, and I did it all for you, David, to be your fantasy. Am I jacked enough? Are these ripped, veiny arms and legs good enough yet? Am I muscular enough yet?" she would continue to tease and taunt me both vainly and with (at least to me) in truth, very little self-confidence, not truly knowing the answer to her question but pretending as she did. She did this every time she could, before, after, and during our bouts of violent, animalistic sex, and I never answered her.
I was torn terribly - every night I got to fulfill my deepest, darkest stethenolgenic fantasies with my hormone-inflated, disturbingly uber-muscular girlfriend, and Sarah was ecstatic to oblige my every wish, want, and whim, muscle-fetish based and otherwise. She was now unbelievably sexually ravenous - her already hormone-increased sexual appetite had become ridiculous with the double and even triple dosing she had been doing recently, stuffing more and more carnival-freakshow muscles on her already bloated, weighted-down frame, but I had yet had reason to complain, as I simply couldn't resist her advances when she was the living, real-life embodiment of my obsession for enormous, vascular, freakily cut muscles on females.
A simple, passing glimpse of her insanely muscular, extremely vein-splattered heavyweight champion's physique was enough to make me instantly and near unwillingly rock-hard, and knowing this, she didn't make it easy on me at all - it was almost like a game to her, a game of muscular seduction she ultimately knew she would win, time and time again.
Sarah's regular clothing had been pared down to what she wore to work, as everything she owned quickly did not fit properly as she began putting on serious mass. She began buying men's clothing, it fitting her thickening body more easily, but eventually even that could not accomodate the ballooned swells and thick, crevassed mountain ranges of steroid-fed meat she was piling onto her frame. Several pairs of jeans and untold amounts of tops had ruptured, torn, or been exploded from her frighteningly huge, bulging musculature from normal movement and activity, until she gave up buying anything but triple XL sweatsuits to wear to work at the radio station, and even these were stretched like spandex against her oddly barrel-shaped torso and thick legs.
At home, Sarah was now regularly walking around the apartment in the tiniest and tightest of her new thongs and bikini tops all of the time now, fabrics stretched to their limits and ready to rupture against her gargantuan body despite the fact that we had ordered them together online just two weeks prior through Lane Bryant's website. Large sets of lingerie intended for holding in rolls and bulges of fat now were pasted, practically painted onto Sarah's freakshow swells, mountains, and valleys of unnaturally hard, rippling musculature.
If she noticed even the slightest twitch or bulge of excitement between my legs, Sarah would immediately begin pumping up and posing her massive, horribly cut-up muscle groups for me, tearing whatever remaining strips of clothing from her explosive, throbbing, beefcake body until she was gloriously naked, exponentially heightening both her and my excitement as she teased me, describing each rock hard, meat-bloated inch of her physique as her muscle-mountains grew, got more cut, and swelled with power and disturbing, all-enveloping veinage until both of us could take it no more and Sarah would mount me from atop, fucking me aggressively as I tried, usually in vain, to hold on to her thickly powerfully bucking form.
Sarah's tree-trunk thighs had thickened to the point that made sex .... difficult, and missionary position outright impossible, so cowgirl or reverse-cowgirl was my Athenian girlfriend's new commanded position. The slight straddling creating a permissible angle in between her bulging, entrapping mountains of girl-meat. I would fill my hands with her unbelievable, hot, hard back muscles as she began to grunt rhythmically, sweat profusely until a sheen was coating her gargantuan, veiny, pumping physique, moan erotically, squeal girlishly, and finally come.
Her hormone-charged sex drive was insane, and she would regularly experience multiple orgasms as she basically utilized me as a living dildo - these ferocious sessions would usually leave me sore for days, but I was literally, physically living out my sexual-fetish fantasies. My amazon girlfriend was quickly approaching the point of being more massive and muscular than any of the girls I had ever jacked off to, and it was everything I had always thought it might be.
She upped the ante of my libidic torture still in the passing weeks, taking to being topless all day, baring her thick, rock-solid cannons of muscle-breasts for my pleasure, and as she knew very well, eventually her own. The first and only time I asked her why, she only flexed her thick muscle-tits and asked in return if I thought she needed a bra. She most certainly did not - her chest was comprised of two craggy, veiny boulders of pectoral muscles, capped by small, maybe inch thick breasts and tiny nipples that pointed straight to the ground in a poetic acquiescence of femininity to the uber-masculine physique of her upper body.
At the same time, however, her blown-out, blatant, obviously drug-enhanced, freakish development made it hard for us to do anything socially, although those opportunities were rare enough with her constant gym-training, which had gone to an amazing three hours-long trips a day. Sarah, her ego being built progressively by all of the men and women in her little black book, some now even travelling long distances to 'experience' her prominently jacked, muscle-stuffed physique, was increasingly aware of how alien she was becoming to the norms of even extreme athletes, and much less of becoming the antithesis of 'normal' femininity. While at the apartment she was my personal, dark, musclebound fantasy, I didn't think the reaction from the people we both knew would be so positive.
She had become even more secluded and out of touch with 'normal' life as she grew herself, packed pounds and pounds of muscle onto her body. 99% of Sarah's interactions with other people were at the gym, where other customers either cleared out immediately when both Bree and she arrived, frowns of disbelief and disgust on their slack-jawed faces, or stayed and watched from a distance, awe in their eyes, as my girlfriend and her young, amazon friend would quickly strip down to skin-tight sportsbras, bikni tops, and hotpants workout sets, which hid nothing of their hideously musclebound physiques excepting the ever shrinking social standards that their miniscule, straining tops and shorts barely concealed.
Their audience either watching raptly or gone from the area, the girls would subject both themselves and each other to grueling, tear-inducing workouts where both would regularly grunt like a beast of burden, peppering these animal noises with shrieking screams of pain and effort as they tortured their amazing physiques with poundages that were unattainable by most Olympic powerlifters. For hours on end they would punish their amazing bodies, sweat pouring amongst the disgustingly forefront balloons of muscle that bulged ominously from both bulbous physiques, stretching skin and accentuating veins as the mounds of meat bulged and rippled underneath bronzed, taut skin.
I had been to only one such workout, sitting and watching with my hands on my lap to hide my raging erection as Sarah and Bree worked out with ridiculous poundages with their ever-expanding musculatures morphing, literally growing in front of my eyes. The bigger and move vascular they became, the louder their grunts and panting became, the more people left the gym, hands over their mouths and looks of horror or crazed glee in their wide-open eyes. Finally, it was just me and the two bodybuilders, and they both pridefully and boastfully posed their massive, barely covered and sweat-slicked idols to the utter abomination of femininity in the name of muscularity for me, encouraging me excitedly with velvet voices and diamond hard, bloated bodies as I masturbated wildly through my sweatpants. After this one wonderful visit, I was then forbidden to return by my Athenian girlfriend - she said I distracted her and she needed to concentrate with everything she had to continue to get more massive for me, her "muscle-loving man".
I did, however, get to, up-close and personally, witness and experience the deliciously drug-enhanced results, as inches upon inches of additional throbbing, steely muscles were added to Sarah's frame as the months quickly passed in a blur. The ever-growing onslaught of her powerful muscles were fed by ever-increasing loads of syringes, which seemed to disappear as quickly as the shakes, supplements, and sides of beef that she now consumed daily, trying to force as much muscle-building protein into her stomach as possible in between tortuous, hours-long lifting sessions.
Sarah had now surpassed even Bree in staggering, jaw-dropping, steroid-fed muscular mass, and could officially be put into any bodybuilding competition under the ultra-freakshow class - my girlfriend's horribly unnatural physique was now extremely superhero-exaggerated, like a cartoon character's, except the thick, bulging muscles and veins that brutally denied and reversed any previous feminine lines were 100% real. Just the way I had wanted my dream girl to be, hugely muscled and cut to shreds - I think, now, that Sarah might have even loved female muscle more than I did.
"I've been looking for that boy, David," she said nonchalantley one night as I unloaded the third of four syringes deep into her clothesless, uber-muscular, striated and feathered ass cheek. She then exhaled completely, relaxing her bent-over body as much as she could in our well-practiced effort of me being able to spread apart her foot-thick, squared, gharishly veiny gluteal muscles to be able to pump her full with the last syringe of her unknown mass-growing, muscle-billowing cocktail.
Sarah's smile darkened, and she continued. "I want him to see what I've become, I want him to either puke or piss himself, maybe even shit his little pants, when he sees how jacked I am, how much big, bulging fucking muscle I've packed ..... mmmph! .... on to this body," my muscle-stuffed girlfriend's voice tracked amusingly high as I suppressed the syringe, sending another few ounces of some steroid, hormone, or other body-bulking substance into her bloodstream, and then, flowing into Sarah's hugely over-developed, unbelievably massive girl-muscles.
"I'm gonna give him a free show," she whispered, excitement creeping into her soft voice, suddenly flexing her gigantic back into a huge craggy meatscape, bulging with balls of individual back-muscles that stretched her shining skin, her meat-mounds pulsing visibly as the flow of drugs filled them, growing them.
"He has no idea how he's inspired me, how much his smart-ass comment put me over the edge, the edge of just wanting to be big to wanting to be fucking COLOSSAL, huge, sickeningly muscular, bigger than any bodybuilder, ever!" Sarah mumbled in almost a crazed frenzy, the effects of the multiple syringes becoming apparent as she suddenly straightened up, baring her naked torso as her entire upper body flexed at once, bulges bloating and cuts deepening as vascularity exploded, coalsecing on her skin in huge, ropey clusters atop rigid, horribly striated lumps of thick pulsing muscle.
"OOOoooohhh....," Sarah moaned violently, startlingly loud in it's extremity and suddenness. Her lips strained downward in a pain-filled grimace, her white teeth grinding, sending bulges of muscles swelling even along her formerly feminine jawline as her body literally expanded, surging forward and simultaneously outward, sickeningly, with hard, pulsing muscle-balloons, pumping arteries and veinwork.
"Oooooo yeah, David, that last one was the ticket, I can feel the burning, feel my huge, ripped muscles GROWING, baby, growing bigger and HARDER, wait'll that fucking kid sees THIS, Oooohhh, David, I'm getting fucking GIGANTIC!"
Stunned, I couldn't even nod my head to agree. I stood, frozen, in front of Athenian muscular apocalypse; Sarah was now fully pumped and extremely, sickeningly veiny, like she had just finished a body-morphing workout of thousands of pounds of hard steel just seconds before. A wide, white-toothed grin lit her pretty, un-madeup face, and she ran her hand down the drumhead of her cobblestone stomach, squishing packets of veins and making them swim atop the ridged, rigid surface.
"Come touch me, David, I'm so thick and hard right now, come worship these big muscles, baby," Sarah purred, her hands now underneath and hefting slightly the squared blocks of her pumped, striated muscletits. I immediately was at her side, a small bit of spit collecting in my mouth at my quick approach, and filled my wanting, grasping hands with her irresistable, stone, hot, bulging muscles. One hand gripped and kneaded a cubic, heavily weighted ass-cheek, and my other explored the cords of her inner thigh - with a slight shudder I traced the veiny bulges of her thigh muscles to her shiny, taut bikini bottoms, feeling her slick, slightly sticky excitement a light coating against the thick bulges of meat that met right below her dripping womanhood.
My manhood was as hard as it's ever been, because it knew - soon enough, it would be time to please Sarah, at this point it was a regular part of the injection night routine. Three-injection evenings always ended in raucus body worship sessions, Sarah's pulsing muscles needing the flexion to fully absorb the checmical cocktails, and then, her body pumped up and all ultra-chiseled muscle, her science-lab physique demanded sex. Rough, animalistic, grunting sex, where I generally just lay while my mutated girlfriend performed feats of strength and gymnastic sex moves, her gigantic muscles huge, bulging in bold relief, as she impaled herself with frantic vigor atop my rigid pole. And tonight had been a body-expanding four syringes - it was going to be a long one.
The money continued to roll in, and Sarah session posing with her young amazon-in-arms Brianna had become so lucrative she had even considered quitting her job in radio and concentrating on the further growth of both her bank account and additionally her unnaturally superior physique full-time. I knew there were extremely lucrative opportunities in the small world of female muscle-fetish, especially for such a hugely developed, yet still beautiful young muscle goddess like my girlfriend had forcedly, rapidly morphed herself into. I also knew a majority of this money was in full-contact, often nude session-work for thousands at a time, and while I was still nervous with the idea of sessions whatsoever (I constantly ignored her current work, with Bree's worship of Sarah's bulbuous physique - girl on girl was different, right?), this type of work I couldn't allow, and Sarah was okay with that after our discussion.
We argued it relatively early one night, with the start of the argument my insistence that she wear a full sweatsuit so as not to easily "persuade" me like the session decision with her irresistable, bulging pillars of strength. She acquiesced in a manner that told me she had planned on that exactly, and came back to the bedroom in a XXXXL pink sweatsuit that did little to hide her bulk, painted and pasted on like a second skin. After hours of passionate, heated arguing, we came to the conclusion that the sessions were a means to an end, and that muscle and everything it entailed already took up the prime space in her life.
I knew it, even at her agreeance, as did my recently freakishly jacked girlfriend, that while she had initially gotten into the world of fe-muscle and extreme bodybuilding because of my deviant sexual fixation with fantastically built-up women, she now had as much if not more obsessive muscle-lust than I, regardless of how much she spoke to the opposite. I had unknowingly created and enabled a female bodybuilding Frankenstein, as revolting and grotesque to normal people as the namesake monster had been, by introducing Sarah to our now shared obsession with hugely developed female muscles.
I was torn by guilt and reality - I had had no idea how fantastically well her body would respond to the daily onslaughts of stacks of iron and syringes of chemicals, and certainly no clue how much Sarah would come to love being insanely built and muscular when I had shared my fetish. I had figured I would at least avoid a breakup and allow Sarah into the world of my sexual fantasies, not that she would force herself into the twisted vision of supreme Athenian muscular development that my libido responded so emphatically to. My life had truly become like one of those stories on Brawna that I used to pleasure myself to, and it had all, unbelievably, spawned with Sarah's finding an open Media Player window showing a throbbing, pumping, vascular girl's bicep.
Sarah had now become so monstrously huge I became growingly concerned. There was absolutely no way that carrying that much mass was healthy by any means - her daily intake of illicit chemicals was only beaten by the volume of supplements she consumed seemingly by the hour. While her temple of a body fulfilled, and then some, everything my muscle fetish needed, I didn't want my girlfriend to die by punishing her body to become every huger, increasingly ripped to shreds, more freakishly developed.
I tried to drop subtle, yet sincere hints that I liked her astounding physique right where it was in it's extreme muscularity, but Sarah would have none of it, always thinking I was teasing her for being too small, which was absolutely ridiculous. I began thinking that Sarah might have the mental condition of body image that a lot of female bodybuilders had - body dysmorphia - no matter how massive they got, all they saw in the mirror was weakness and softness, which couldn'tve been any further from her actual case. Despite the fact that she would put to shame male heavyweight champions with her omnipotent physical development, Sarah was determined more than ever to become more and more massive, and her muscle-lust only seemed to compound exponentially with each and every pound of mindblowing muscle she forced into and onto her body.
"Maybe you should take a week off of the stuff, Sarah, just calm down for one week and see how you feel," I suggested one night as we relaxed on the couch watching television, she in a maddeningly tight, black lace thong and nothing else. I could feel the heat emanating from her thickly muscled, bloated upper body. I glanced over to see my girlfriend, with her head titlted upwards above her bull neck and swollen traps, considering.
"No, honey, wasting a week's training means too much weight I could've put on," she declared, looking down her bulging blocks of pectorals to her cobbled, swollen to the point of resembling full-term pregnancy, stomach.
"Jesus, babe, you're fucking gigantic already! A week off won't do anything, you'll still be this big, and that's fucking HUGE, Sarah, unless you haven't looked in a mirror recently!" I responded quickly and angrily, staring straight ahead, completely frustrated with her singular, all-consuming mission to pack on more muscle, heedless of any and all consequences. In a moment of self-reflection, I felt tremendously guilty because if it not been for me and my sexual muscle fetish in the first place, Sarah would still be a 'normal' girl, doing normal things instead of spending 99% of every waking instant financing, building, or selling her drug-fueled, massively muscular physique.
I looked down in shame, then edged backwards from her the tiniest bit as Sarah's muscles noticably expanded next to me - I could literally feel the shift in the sofa as she grew, bulging muscles harder and even more voluminous still in her flexion. The silence was thick, and I waited anxiously for her reaction.
"Am I as big as those girls in the videos yet, David?" my girlfriend finally responded, looking innocent and doe-eyed yet being neither, and went into fierce, mimicing poses from the over-the-top video clips of Conny Brandt I had shown her in the midst of my own insatiable muscle-lust, tremendous, body-inflating most-musculars, followed by frighteningly expansive double-biceps poses. Revolting, startling vascularity exploded across her swelling girth as she flexed her entire lexicon of bulbous, bulging muscles at once, her body bulk expanding frighteningly, inexplicably growing and expanding with meat still.
"You don't want me that big, do you, David?" she almost pleaded, looking back to me with wide eyes and her mouth still slightly agape in astonishment. "That's too MUCH, David, holy shit she's so MUSCULAR, do you?" she asked haltingly between girlish grunts as I buried myself deeper still inside of her as the young German muscle-queen turned to the side, showcasing the extreme width difference between her washboard-abbed, tiny waist and huge upper arms that eclipsed her head by nearly a half a foot.
I think I might have fried a synapse. Sarah posessed the mind-blowing size of the European physique star, and further still she was much more cut than the younger, behemoth girl enormously due to the pharmacy's worth of drugs she was modifying her metabolism with - her size was all meat mass, nearly zero bodyfat percentage whatsoever. Bubbling muscle groups looked ready to tear through Sarah's creamy white, taut, vein-riddled, paper-thin skin when she made them bulge and swell with her incessant, thickness engorging flexing. Thick blue veins popped to blatant appearance all over her pumped-up mass, and contrasted inhumanly, almost grotesquely, with her smooth white skin.
"Don't you want me to be more muscular, sweetie, bigger, all swoll up with huge, strong girlie-muscles? All I need is for you to help me, and I'll be your beast, your ripped, bulging, little muscle-girl!"
Sarah was now an apex female specimen, an experiment result of a mad scientist and chemist, and at the rate that Sarah was still forcibly growing herself, filling her all-consuming physique with gallons of growth hormones, pills, and animal-sized piles of protein, it wouldn't be too long before my girlfriend would posess a naturally impossible, super-massively muscled physique with more than enough size to reduce the past five winners of the Mr. Olympia to tears. Ms. Olympia? No way in hell - those girls, massive in their own right, would probably piss their bikini bottoms at the sight of Sarah in her current, engorged, fearsome state of pump. Fully flexed and expanded, Sarah was now the biggest, most obscenely muscular girl I had ever witnessed, and my pants unabashedly told the tale as they were dramatically tented and tight around my rigid crotch - I figured my current hard-on would probably have gone straight through a wall.
"I want to be bigger than your wildest dreams, huge, muscular, and ripped to shreds, like that last girl from the video, I just need to keep throwing steel with Bree, getting my injections, and taking my pills, and I'll be the most muscular girl you've ever seen, David, I'll put those strong-women in the videos to shame with my new, massive, veiny, bulging body!"
I had definitely created a monster, and even over the extended period of the last year my physique-obsessed girlfriend maniacally, enviously remembered every cut, striated inch of blocky bulk on all of the already extremely muscular girls from the videos she had discovered I pleasured myself to, and had done everything she could, and had succeeded, in becoming as much of their physical superior as was inhumanly possible. Sarah had paid for her journey of physical transformation with both tens of thousands of dollars as well as any trace of femininity outside of her sex and still beautiful, unblemished and surprisingly feminine facial features, startlingly out of place when composed to her completely butched out, masculine, overtly muscular physique.
I got up from the couch, retreating from Sarah with my hands up, backing away slowly as she dropped the latspread she had been pumping with a grin on her face, and took a floor-shaking step in pursuit, her barrel quads rippling with her catlike gait. Within seconds, she had moved lightning quick to trap me between the brick walls of the apartment and her pumped muscles.
"Your girlfriend works out like a fucking thoroughbred beast, all to build up these big, sexy muscles for you. She's packing on mass way faster than I did when I started dosing, pretty soon she's gonna be just overflowing with massive, ripped muscles, jacked like fucking nothing you've ever seen," Bree carried on tortuously, grasping Sarah's elbows and setting them into a double bicep pose, looking into her dark brown eyes with a glowing, room-brightening smile.
"I think I am as big as those bitches, David, but I know you still watch them when I've gone out. But that's okay, honey, I'll just continue to punish and build this little body, fill it up with hormones and stuff myself full to the brim with bigger, harder, BETTER muscles, until you only need me, so I've got to get even bigger, more ripped and muscular than your deepest, most hidden desires, so I and I alone can be your ultimate fantasy," she finished with a full, wide and almost manic smile to me, her eyes shining with excitement at the images that obviously raced in her mind's eye of what her much-adored physique would become with continued self-torture and drug-enhanced physical modification.
My physical specimen of a girlfriend almost absentmindedly undid my belt and jeans, working them insanely quickly around my ramrod straight pole and stripping my boxers off with a quick pull of her hand. She looked down, her lips curling evilly at the sight of me pantsless, and the obvious enjoyment going on down there.
Breathing heavier now, Sarah pressed me against the wall, engulfing me with her hot, solid, steel-hard muscles, as she grabbed my enlarged manhood in one hand and lifted me effortlessly off of the floor with her small hand under my armpit so she could rub me against the bubbled, thick, dangerously protruding, cobblestoned wall of her rippling, drumhead stomach.
"I'm gonna get so JACKED you'll never be able to even get hard from looking at another musclegirl again, David, I'm gonna get fucking HUGE, and all so I can be the biggest, FREAKiest, hardest, girl ever, and it's all for you, my muscle lovin' man," Sarah whispered into my ear breathily, with a mad look in her eye, punctuating the last descriptors with almost painful squeezes of my now titanium-hard dick.
"You're gonna love it, baby, I'm just gonna be one solid block of huge, rippling meat, MASSIVE, just like you want, so big and muscular, absurdly, .... no,..... sssssickeningly veiny, and wicked strong," she cooed, pumping her gigantic, skin-stretching and vein-loaded bicep inches from my face as she continued to lovingly, softly stroke and squeeze my at-attention manhood in her soft, delicate feeling hand.
In the back of my mind a red light went off, knowing that Sarah's soft, alluring touch could easily become a crushing grip in an instant that might be able to dent steel, much less mangle my exposed and suddenly, frighteningly vulnerable manhood - this thought was quickly extinguished, as she curled her arm in in a half-crab pose, which made her thick pec swell up like it was attached to an air pump. The skin of her bulging muscle-breast was shiny and pulled rigidly tight against the corduroy-like ripples and ridges of her striated, blown-out pectoral muscles, her pink nipple hard as a bullet and pointing straight out in acquiescence to the mighty backing and protruding muscles' superiority, and I just stared, in a lusting daze, my dick jumping in her hand so violently that my steroid-fed muscular beast of a girlfriend giggled girlishly, knowingly.
"Ooohh, so you like my little muscle-titties, David? My big, thick, striated pecs? You know how hard I work this chest, baby? To get em all big, vascular and ripped, just bursting with muscles? I can do two hundred pushups, can you believe that, sweetie? And all because you introduced me to female muscle, so I got rid of those ridiculous, useless breasts, and replaced 'em with these big, pumped pecs, aren't they absolutely ALIEN?" she cooed, flashing a wide, beautiful and prideful smile, all the while flexing and relaxing her veiny, bulbous, ripped chest, forcing more and more pump, cuts, vascularity, and size into the already ridiculous mounds of meat, still masturbating me slowly yet surely with her other hand.
"I'm gonna make em get even bigger, David, I'm gonna make everything BIGGER, and so I'm not going to be taking any time off of lifting and injecting," she finished, knowing her complete mastery of me in the current situation. I squirmed as she ran my throbbing, nearly explosive manhood down the steel-flexed twelve pack of now apple-sized abdominals.
"What I am going to take time off for is a workout, and it's gonna be some cardio, right now, riding on top of that big dick of yours," she finished sultrily, again leaning in close to release the words as small puffs of breath into my ear as she tightened her grip on my now throbbing manhood, restricting the blood-flow just enough to make me manageable again.
Leading me by my sizeable erectness as if on a leash, Sarah walked me to our bedroom, her other hand gripping and ripping the thong from her gharishly thick lower body with a casual flip of her wrist, tossing the rended laced fabric to the ground where a dainty foot topped by enormous, monstrous diamond-shaped calves kicked it to the side.
She pushed me slightly with a sexy, knowing grin on her face, and I bounced slightly as I hit the bed vertically. My girlfriend's slightest push had been like a blow from a sledgehammer. Gloriously naked and unbelievably, massively muscled, she jumped, bent over, onto the bed which immediately creaked loudly with the addition of her massive bulk, her engorged body thick with steroid-fed beef, and crawled over my stiff dick, her arms and meat-stuffed upper body expanding with even more rippling mass as she leaned forward.
Sarah breathed outwards audibly, widening her tree trunk legs and therefore her shaved vagina, an island of femininity surrounded by a sea of freakish muscle, and took me in slowly, looking me in the eyes deeply, licking her lips, bright eyes widening near the end, as she impaled herself on my rock hard manhood. When she had finally taken me all the way in, she straightened up and hit a ghastly, brain-melting latspread pose. As her thick, bubbled glutes settled onto my hips, I could feel her full, considerable mass pressing me deeply into the bed mattress.
"Ooooh, yeah, look at me, baby, I'm SOOOOO sick, so pumped up with m-m-m-m-mmuscles," she cooed, looking from arm to bulging, writhing arm as she simultaneously began pleasuring herself on me, holding her tremendous, torso-thickening flex as she moved just her hips, her tight vagina massaging me inside of her in a rippling, almost jacking off type of motion. Her abs, taking the entire brunt of her pumping movement, instantly were painted, practically covered, with thick, pulsing veins that converged on her moist, twitching crotch as her columnar abdominals pulsed, thickening ominously with her quickening workout. With a soft grunt, Sarah hit a body-bloating most muscular atop my rigid dick, her torso shifting outwards and expanding alarmingly, glistening pecs shooting upwards and reforming into rippled, handball sized meat-cannons squeezeed together by massive, striated delts and impossibly cut, thick and bulbuous biceps.
"Mmmmm... Steroids do a body good, don't they baby? How do I look, David, tell me, tell me how hard this massive, muscular physique is making you," Sarah huffed, moaning softly, sweetly every fifteen seconds or so, having worked up a light sweat and now breathing heavily as she rode me quickly, vigorously. Her abs were now hugely, revoltingly bloated, forming a jutting slab of constantly metamorphosing, strangely squirming meat that her pumping pecs now firmly rested on with the extreme protrusion, and I stared wide-eyed, uncontroillably, at her stomach as wave after wave of protruding, waffled ab muscles rolled by with her pelvic thrusts.
"Ummm uhh..... You're so big, Sare, b..big and m-muscular," I managed, mind blanking, hiccupping the words, desperately trying to hold back my impending eruption in the face of the onslaught of impossible, Amazonian muscular achievement simultaneously posing and fucking me incredibly powerfully at the same, exact, exquisite time. I licked a bit of drool from the corner of my mouth as she looked down at me with a sneer darkening her beautiful face, simultaneously and flawlessly, gradually increasing her frantic, rhythmic, sweat-slicked humping, and arched her back, stretching, tightening, and finally taking some strain off of her horrifically bulging, cut, inches protruding, abdominal brick-work.
She placed her dainty hands on the hard bone angles of her tiny hips, and her quads tightened up, taking on the load her monstrous abs had just given up, and her thighs bulged with thickness at the apex of her latspread above me. She was absolutely enormous, her back a huge v-shape that spread impossibly wide, almost reaching the crook of her elbow. Between her flexed meatwings and the dangerous, mutated swells of her biceps and forearms, there was only two inches of space to see through. I shuddered involuntarily underneath her as my dick simultaneously hardened beyond what I thought was possible.
"I think you can do better than that, David," she moaned, rolling her shoulders forward and actually further expanding her huge, monstrous back by even more impossible inches. "I know I'm big silly, I hear that all the time .... mmmph," Sarah continued, never missing a stroke along my rigid, swallowed pole. "I want you to tell me how ripped, how jacked, how 'roided I am, how bulging and massive my muscles are, how horny and hard they make you.... don't they, baby? Don't these itsy bitsy muscles make you hard as a rock?"
"Maybe you need a little more 'inspiration'," she giggled, abruptly pumping out a disgustingly gigantic double biceps pose, mass shifting from back thickness to her pillars of arms, roped with stacked wedges and strips of hard, vascular meat. My eyes were impossible to move from the apocalyptic sight, painfully wide open, and my mouth hung agape in disbelief and awe. Her peaks topped twenty inches easily, not even counting the extra half-inch created by the prominent, bile raising ridges of veinwork atop the heads of my girlfriend's impossible biceps - it was easily to imagine syringes of growth hormone being injected directly into the quivering, striated melons of her upper arms.
"Ooohhh..... Look at these guns, David, look how thick, veiny, massive they are! I'm fucking gigantic, huge, bursting biceps, yeah, mmmFFFFHHH! Oooh yeah, ooo yeah, I'm so pumped up I feel like I might RUPTURE, baby, Ohhh Gooooodddddd......." she moaned, her lips actually turned down in a face-contorting grimace as she held the mindblowing double biceps pose despite the obvious pain it was costing her. I wanted to turn away but couldn't tear my eyes from her impossible, enchantingly butched, behemoth body, bulging with corded, veiny beef, flexed to a disgustingly extreme level of definition that shouldn't be possible for any human being, much less a girl in her mid-twenties. My bony hips smacked against her thick, swollen hamstrings as my body involuntarily, helplessly tried to bury myself as deep as possible inside of Sarah at the terrible, fantastic sight of her body rending pose atop me.
What she did next both horrified and amazed me, entrancing me still holding the revolting, titantic double biceps flex, she utilized just the strength of her inner muscles to now ram me like a dildo, in and out of her glistening, wet center. Disturbingly prominent bulges worked on the stretched surface of the bloated bulge of her crotch, and veins quickly popped to the surface of her skin, feeding the abnormal development of her formidable sex.
"How's that for muscular development, David? Even my pussy is jacked, pumped up for you, for my man and his big, muscle-lovin' cock," she forced her effort-showing face into a wide smile for me while turning sideways and going into a pec-popping side-chest pose, swollen arm muscles swelling again until they met the unyielding, swollen bulge of her massive, cubic muscle-tits.
"Ooooh yeah," she growled, looking down at her stuffed, straining, twinned tit-towers and the surrounding masses of her rippling arms. As her entire upper pussy area flexed viciously with her amazing, unbelievable auto-fucking, a defined, bulging, vein-splattered fist of muscle became prominent and twitching above her power-packed vagina. It throbbed disgustingly with the new cadence of Sarah's obvious grunts of effort that sounded amusingly like a teen's defiant "Unh unh," her voice becoming higher pitched and throaty with the near full-body flexing she was performing for me.
"Unnnhhh unnnnhhh you're gigantic, HUGE, a fucking MUTANT!" I sputtered out uncontrollably, being used as a flesh and blood dildo by my girlfriend who was now a she-beast, a muscular female abomination with a perfect face, yet everything outside her beautiful facade and her vagina itself was an apocalyptic muscular terrain, taking any trace thought of the female form and throttling it with bulging, veiny, razor-cut she-meat, making me feel like I had Turret's syndrome as words that neared on being hateful spilled out of my mouth.
"Fuck, SHIT..... big, shiny, mmmmuscles! Sarah, Oh God, you're so jacked, UNNhhhhh.... you're a fucking FREAK OF NATURE, you look like a fucking man! FUCK - revolting, QUADS! ABS!! Jesus, Jesus!" Tears slid down my cheeks as I continued on my ugly rant, getting thrown on and off the bed by my girlfriend's inner vagina muscles as she continued to pound out grotesque, muscle inflating poses atop me.
"Oooh yeah, baby, I'm a fucking steroid guzzling FREAKshow, unh-UNH, UNH-unh, A goddamn ... MMMmmmph.... juiced-up muscle ..... m-m-monster," Sarah taunted, the words bursting from her mouth in gasps and pants, clearly enjoying my near disgust with her scientifically mutated mindblowing physique.
She was completely owning me, muscle-fucking me, her powerful inner muscles giving me the ride of my life. Now, huffing and grunting, Sarah put her hands behind her head and exhaled sharply, adding a columnar grid of what horribly looked like eight stacked apples above the monstrosity of throbbing meat between her shaven, dripping sex and the last row of her steel abdominals below her blown-out, protruding bellybutton. She looked down at me expectantly, seemingly revelling in my night and day facial expressions of pure muscle-lust fueled pleasure, and what was quickly becoming horror and blatant, abject disgust.
"And I'm bigger, more yoked than any man, baby, I'm so fucking massive and pumped right now, I might .... burst," she whined, curving her voice exaggeratedly high pitched, girlishly, and I felt the vise-grip of her staggeringly powerful, muscle-packed vagina loosen for one second, dropping me the few inches back down to the hard mattress. My escape was only for a fraction of a second, as I felt the pulsing maw of her womanhood envelop me again, in a more normal girl-on-top position, minding one ignore the fact that this 'girl' was over two hundred and fifty pounds of striated, artery-blasted, pumping, bulging girl-beef.
The raucus, powerful fucking Sarah had steadily delivered in the past half-hour had transformed her bulging body, and now all of my erotically supercharged girlfriend's muscles were pumped, absolutely vein-splattered, and striated to the point of thorough disgustingness. She leaned in close, bracing herself on each side of my head on the pillow with over twenty-inch, barrel thick arms, and whispered above my ear as the popping ridges of her bunched, blood-engorged pectorals plucked at my chin and nose.
"Mmmmmm..... what about you, David, do you think you might burst before I do? Are all these big .... bulging ...... mmmmuscles gonna make my little man blow his load?" she slowly began to ride the length of my manhood, making her bloated, sweat-slicked pecs brush against my face, my chin meeting the swell of her brickwork abs, and repeating maddeningly.
"Please, Sare, no bigger, I don't know what'll happen if you get much bigger," I began to beg of her, tears forming and welling from the corners of my eyes as she continued to ride me purposefully, rythmically. "I like muscles, but fuck, Jesus .... mmnphh....." My voice was cut off as Sarah moved her hands to the sides of her pectoral meat-cannons, and squeezed together, flexing, and burying my entire face in hot, steel girl meat.
"That's nice of you baby, but I know you don't really mean it, oooh yeah, I've read the stories on the computer, remember, silly?" She mercifully released her pec-lock on my face. and I gasped in fresh air as she continued.
"All those young girls just growing and growing, getting more and more massive, pumping themselves up with 'roids and hormones until they're just freakishly huge?" Sarah giggled, her head tilting downwards to look directly, and intensely, into my eyes, all the while her fucking pace having increased exponentially with her muscle-talk.
My girlfriend's thin, feminine face was framed ghoulishly by her bulbous, bullish traps, and the mountain-like mounds of the top ridges of her pectorals. I marvelled momentarily at the fact that all of the drugs she had taken into her body had left her markless still - her cheekbones were prominent, lips full, her face beatifully girlish and clear of blemishes.
"I know you want me bigger, baby, you don't have to hide it, it's okay!" she huffed, finally showing a bit of exertion after the femuscle carnival she had put on for what seemed like hours upon hours of time. Everywhere I looked my entire field of vision was filled with bubbling, vein-splattered, sickeningly massive female muscle, courtesy of my extreme-bodybuilding girlfriend.
"Ummmm UmmMMM Sare, Sarah," I moaned in jerking outbursts, remembering her threats of cumming inside her. Sarah was violently impaling herself, pistoning on top of me impossibly fast, her body a symphony of bulges and ripples, veins and striations. The combination of her mutated muscularity and motion along with the auditory treat of grunts, moans, and soft cries, had me worried about totally losing any control I had left in me.
"Go ahead, babe, I'm way too ... Mmmmph ... BUTCHED out now for that girly bleeding shit, I haven't had a period in months," she cooed, her squared, muscular ass bobbing maddeningly in the air with the force of her seemingly never ending man pounding. "Ooooohh..... Goooooawwwdd......" she moaned loudly, her huge body bucking uncontrollably, and I began to moan as well, brain fried, but knowing instinctively the time had come.
"No sense in wasting good protein," she whispered warmly in my ear after groaning gutturally for what seemed like a full minute, achieveing her climax, and promptly dismounted with a thrust and jump, her bulging, bulbous form actually catching air from the power of her push off of the mattress, and my awe was instantly converted to ultimate pleasure as she landed and in the process took the entire length of me in her wet, velvet mouth. Two sweeps of her thick tongue and I exploded in her throat, which Sarah drank greedily, a smile curling her lips as she shifted her shoulders to make her traps bulge sickeningly forward, flattening her ears against the sides of her head as she finished me off and I fell to exhausted sleep.
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