Amy's Conquest Side Story 4
by silentcrs



*** The Below is an extended segment from this story, written for us by a
Fantastic

female muscle author, and a close friend of mind, silentcrs!

For the Full Story of "Amy's Conquest Side Story 4", please visit

our Member's Section at Amy's Conquest (www.amysconquest.com), or purchase it

on its own on our AC site.

Thanks all, and as always, hope you Enjoy! ***

********************

Amy Hardstone heard the catcalls as she strode confidently down the hallways
of Redmount High in her classic schoolgirl outfit. They were coming from
fellow female students (the men were too scared), and she acknowledged them
with a silent smile.

The eighteen-year-old was looking particularly voluptuous this afternoon, her
voluminous breasts swaying high and proud on a firm chest. A hint of an early
summer tan splayed across her ample cleavage, which was barely contained by a
thin, white, tied-off crop top shirt. It was torn off at the shoulders,
revealing her dangerously powerful 17" biceps and bare, washboard abs flexing
with every step. Solid, tree trunk thighs, visibly etched with striated muscle
under the silky smooth skin, flowed out from under a pleated red and black
skirt. Her diamond-cut calves bulged out from otherwise dainty white
schoolgirl socks while her feet stepped forward in cute, black, schoolgirl
shoes. If one could take their eyes off the incredible musculature for a
second, they could glance up and see Amy's hair tied into her personal
fashion: cute, blond, youthful pigtails. Amy's gorgeous, modelesque face had
just a hint of rosy cheeks, which were evident as she chewed and blew bubbles
with pink gum. She definitely had perfected her dichotomous style: adorable
schoolgirl and high school sexpot.

This wasn't any random day at Redmount High, however. It was the last day of
class before summer vacation, and, more importantly, Amy's last day of high
school ever. She knew she would miss the storied halls, having built up a body
of work (and reputation) that would add many more stories after she left. As
she squeezed around a corner, she reflected on how she had long since outgrown
the narrow hallways built for more "average" high schoolers. For one thing,
being over 6 feet tall caused her to tower over nearly all other students -
and the faculty. However, it was the 200 pounds of solid, feminine muscle that
really defined her. She would cast shadows on the lockers while strolling past
them, and occasionally wouldn't see when her mass knocked over classmates as
she bumped into them. At least, she pretended she didn't notice. The truth of
the matter: from a very early age Amy loved to exercise her power - or, more
accurately, abuse it. It was part and parcel with being a young Amazon, she
reasoned to herself. If you're blessed with the genes and drive to build a
body like hers, why not take control every chance you could get?

Without knocking, Amy opened the door to school's main office. The principal's
secretary looked up from her nail-filing in awe as the bastion of teenage
muscle walked past her. "A-Amy ... the Principal is n-not seeing v-visitors,"
she stuttered.

Amy cheerily interrupted her, "The principal is going to be indisposed for a
bit, Mrs. Rigsby." Amy opened his office door quietly, winked and locked it
behind her.

Principal Statesman, at first, did not look up from his desk. "Ellen, did you
file those records?" he mumbled. It wasn't until he heard the heavy creaking
of a wooden chair that he looked up and saw the solidly muscular teenage girl
sitting in front of him. She stared at him with her beautiful, green eyes.
"M-Ms. Hardstone!" he stammered.

"Hiya, Teach," Amy sung. She folded one massive thigh over the other as the
chair continued to creak under her exceptional weight and flippantly twisted a
finger around a pigtail, flexing a terrifying bicep.

"W-what are you doing here?" the Principal asked, not at all prepared for the
colossal high school senior. He was an attractive, if older, gentleman. A few
wisps of gray hair flowed through otherwise well-quaffed hair. His most
defining feature, however, was his build. Evidentially, sitting behind a desk
for years did not improve his slight, 5'6" frame. He looked more at home as a
weedy librarian than a principal.

"Oh, I'm not here for much," Amy said as she popped another bubble with her
gum. She twirled her index finger impishly around the remains and sucked it
back into her mouth. "I just wanted to talk about the graduation ceremony."

"Graduation ceremony?" the principal asked. He shakily picked up the program
on his desk for the weekend's festivities and went through it. "Well, you're
speaking in it, of course ... "

"Of course ... " Amy lazily stretched out, arching her strong back. Her
breasts pushed hard against the confines of the top.

" ... as student body president," he nervously continued.

"About that ... " she said, "there's this little matter of the valedictorian
speech."

"Valedictorian?" the principal thought to himself. It was quite clear that Amy
had every right to speak as student body president. Every year since she was a
freshman she had won by a landslide. Although, there was concrete evidence
that this was due to "persuading" fellow students. "But Amy, you're not class
valedictorian," he said.

"I would be, if it wasn't for my academic record," she countered sweetly.

"Your academic record?" he asked. He fortunately still had all the students'
records in front of him. He leafed through them and opened Amy's. She had
excellent grades - been a 4.0 student since day one. However, there were
numerous instances of detention with descriptions such as "beat up the
basketball team" and "destroyed school property." There was also one vague
case of a teacher that was apparently sent to the hospital, although it was
unclear how he got there.

"Amy," he said, putting the folder down and trying to get a handle on the
situation, "you know it's school policy that the valedictorian can't have a
significant detention record. That's been the tradition for years."

"Principal Statesman," Amy said as she began to breathe deeply, "you and I
both know traditions are meant to be broken."

"B-besides," he continued, trying not to stare at her heaving bust. "The
valedictorian has already been declared. I believe it was Mr. Frank
Willowbottom."

Amy looked down nonchalantly at her knuckles. "Frank is not going to make
graduation, I'm afraid. He's had a bit of an accident."

"Accident?" the principal stammered. "S-still," he tried to regain his
composure, "you can't just be made valedictorian." He noticed her muscles
start to tense. "Perhaps if you had practiced a modicum of self-control ... "

"Self-control, teach?" Amy taunted. She unfolded her tree trunk legs from the
chair gracefully and stood up. The young Amazon walked around the desk, taking
the gum out of her mouth and, with a condescending glance at the shaking man,
mashed it onto its fine wood grain. She reached down and, with one balled-up
fist, grabbed the principal's collar and slowly pulled him up. As he rose to
Amy's eye-level, his feet started to dangle and kick in the air. He could
still smell the bubblegum on her breath.

"I don't think you realize how much control I have," she spoke haughtily.

With one fluid motion, she flipped him over his desk, sending him crashing
onto an ornate carpet. His laid on his back prone as he held his head in pain.
She sultrily walked back around his desk.

"Principal Statesman, I'm feeling like a good little girl today ... " she said
as she slunk around him and began to undo the knot of her shirt with her
fingertips, " ... so while we're on the subject of self-control, I'll make you
a deal."

She stood directly over him, her back to his face, her mile-high legs towering
above his head. "If you can keep from cumming, I'll only do the student body
speech," she said with one subtle arch of her back, her globes breaking free
from her shirt. She tossed the thin fabric to the side. "However, if you cum,
I get to do the speech, and anything else I want to you," she sighed
contentedly. She looked over her broad back at his cowering body and cracked
her knuckles. "Let's begin!"

She crashed her body down onto his in a 69 position, hundreds of pounds of
solid muscle shaking the room. With a well-practiced flick of her wrist, she
broke off his belt buckle and tore off his clothes. As she did this, the girth
of her thighs began to snake around his head, pulling his face up into her
fragrant teenage crotch. He could feel the warm heat of her privates coming
through her panties. As she tensed her thighs, his vision went dark, and all
he could do was pray that she wasn't going to crush him to death.

He felt another sense of warmth, this time coming from his lower half. It took
a fraction of a second to realize Amy had taken his penis into her mouth. The
skilled vixen wrapped her tongue around his shaft, as delectable as any
lollipop to her. She swallowed it whole as her pigtails started bobbing up and
down in rhythm, her rosy cheeks sucking inward. While she did this, she began
to squeeze her legs firmer, if only slightly. She was making it clear to him
that there was no way he could escape.

When his dick was sufficiently lubricated, he felt a new sensation. This time,
his penis was engulfed by Amy's two solid masses of breast flesh. With a
handful of each, she began to roll and squeeze his penis within their smooth
confines, teasingly having its head peak out from her cleavage only to vanish
quickly again. She loved to feel men's junk throb between her all-encompassing
globes, and she hadn't met a man yet whose penis was bigger than her tits.
Still, Principal Statesman's was a nice size, and she occasionally opened her
vast mounds up so she could flick her tongue down and catch his tasty pre-cum,
as well as lick up and down the long shaft.

As she assaulted him with her boobs, it was all the principal could do but
moan into Amy's panty-covered pussy. He could feel her wet pussy lips under
the fabric, against his face, the panties starting to soak with her fluids. He
tried to break free, but this only encouraged Amy to flex her legs tighter.
She pressed her crotch against her chin and started rubbing, enjoying the
friction of her panties against her clit as her nipples grew harder.

"You're doing pretty well," Amy said with moderate admiration. "Let's see if
we can turn it up a notch."

Amy wrapped her forearms around her breasts and completely buried the
principal's cock in her cavernous cleavage. She collapsed them inwards and
began to pull up and down at an increased rate. She could tell she was having
an effect on him as his thighs start to buck. Try as he might, his instincts
were beginning to kick in. At the same time, she could feel his lips
desperately seeking air against her snatch. Air which she was not going to
give to him.

She smiled wickedly. "Only a matter of time now, teach," she said in a
singsong fashion.

She rubbed her crotch against his seeking mouth harder, drenching him in her
juices. Meanwhile, her arms became piston-like, rolling her tits up and down
his shaft tighter and faster than any pussy he had ever been in. She turned
her head and gazed lovingly at the man trapped between her thick legs. She
noticed his fingers gripped into the ridges of thigh muscle as he hopelessly
tried to pull them apart and sighed in contentment.

Finally, without warning, she yanked his dick out of her cleavage. "Come on,"
she said, tapping his penis against her smooth, rosy cheek. "Teach me all
about that 'self-control,'" she mocked.

She then palmed his penis head and pressed it against her erect nipple. Her
eyes fluttered as she flicked the glans of his penis along the sensitive tip.
Not being able to quite control herself, her other hand grabbed a handful of
breast and pulled it up to her lips, sucking the other erect nipple. She felt
him starting to twitch.

"Ready baby?" she moaned as she flicked the head faster against her nipple. He
began to convulse as she childishly counted down. "Three, two, one ... cum for
me, teach."

A thick white, stream shot out of him, curving high into the air and landing
on his desk, right next to her bubblegum. She heard him scream in pleasure
against her privates, which she encouraged further by flexing her calves and
wedging his face into her ass. His body shook as semen spiraled out, covering
his carpet, chair and other parts of the office.

She unwrapped her legs and turned around, laughing as she made out the bright
red areas on his face where she had squeezed too tight. He clutched his head
woozily. She laid down next to him and held up her pigtailed head inches away
from his face with one, bent muscular arm.

"Looks like you lost the bet, teach," she said matter-of-factly as she rubbed
her finger over his nipple. "I guess that means both speeches are mine." He
gradually opened his eyes to see her beautiful green ones staring down at him,
her soft face and voice belying the manhandling he just received.

"Know what's also mine?" she whispered, tilting her pigtailed head innocently.
He could once again smell the bubblegum.

"You!" she growled.

Her tongue thrust forcefully into his mouth as her hand reached back and
snapped off her wet panties and skirt. She stood up, fingers pressed to her
now bare, shaved snatch gyrating like a stripper over him. She coyishly bit
her lower lip, jumped in the air and giggled. Her pigtails flew as she slammed
her pussy and full weight down onto his still erect cock. She sat in a cowgirl
position, gazing at him like he was a delicious piece of terrified meat.

"When are men ever going to learn?" she wondered aloud as she put her hands on
her firm hips and twisted her tight core, savoring his length within her. She
traced her ab ridges and drew a breast once against to her mouth, sucking the
taut nipple, never losing eye contact, as she flexed one mighty bicep to
intimidate. She slowly lifted her weight a few inches off of him, relishing
his length, then carelessly started to pound her muscle-filled body into his
much weaker form as she fucked him.

He began to cry. "Oh teacher," she mocked in a little girl's voice as she
continued to bounce. "Am I being bad? Is the weak wittle girl hurting the big
strong man?"

While continuing to fuck him, she lowered her upper body slowly until it
rested on his. Her full breasts pressed into his chest, then slowly compressed
downward, carefully and calculatingly forcing the air out of his lungs. She
palmed his cheek and licked off a tear. She pressed her lips against his ear.

"You have no idea how bad this little girl can get," she cooed erotically.

Amy suddenly grabbed his head and harshly plunged it into the valley of her
cleavage - the same cleavage which had so effortlessly dominated his penis
minutes ago. She slowly and deliberately coiled her thick biceps around the
back of his head, grinning devilishly as his face disappeared from view. He
saw stars as her breasts not only blacked out his vision, but her powerful
pecs began to crush inward. Her back flared out as she powered all of her
upper body into the hold. She looped her massive thighs and calves tighter
around his torso, coiling and twisting her muscle around him, the cables of
muscle constricting as she continued to pound him.

She was the cobra. He was the prey.

As she flexed to her full, frightening mass, Principal Statesman almost
entirely disappeared from view. She flared her pigtailed head back as if
beseeching God for more strength. Her hips pounded without reservation. She
flexed her biceps and back into his yielding upper body and heard the sweet
sound of a rib crack. She wondered if she could do the same to his pelvis.

As it was evident he was fading out, her hips became a battering ram as she
attempted to origami his body into her. When at last she felt another scream
echo between her breasts, against her heart, she authoritatively roared,
bringing him over the edge. Just before he went motionless, she felt a warm
load rush into her womb as she shook and flexed all around him.

After several more minutes of afterglow, enjoying the feel of his small,
gangling body still encased in her muscle, she kissed the top of his forehead
(as if to thank him for his suffering) and unwrapped her sweat-covered body
from his frail, unmoving form. She stood up and, with a palm to her lips,
giggled like the schoolgirl she was. His body was all twisted up like a
used-up roll of toothpaste. She checked that he was still breathing (which he
was, raggedly) and skipped off to fetch her disheveled skirt which lay in the
corner.

She pulled out a cell phone and positioned herself for a selfie. She held it
high in the air above them, pointed down at her giant, heaving, muscular body
while his tiny shriveled, impotent one lay prostrate on the floor under her. A
single index finger touched the bottom of her bee-stung lips while the flash
clicked.

"Oops, I did it again ... " she captioned it on social media. "One last time
at Redmount High ♥."

She slunk back into her skirt, retied her top and beamed as she felt her phone
immediately start to vibrate with the "likes" coming in. She picked up her
panties and twirled them around a finger, whistling brightly. As she walked
out of the principal's office, the stunned secretary looked on in amazement.

"Have a good summer, Mrs. Rigsby," Amy said, flinging the damp panties onto
her desk as she walked out.

The gentleness of her footsteps seemed to belie the sheer thickness of her
body. How could someone so robust move so gracefully? The frozen reaction of
the crowd only contributed to the awe in the auditorium. Many of the parents
had heard clandestine whispers from their children about a bully female
student over the past few years. One that supposedly preyed on men (students
and teachers alike). It was their first time seeing her in the flesh.

Or, rather, in a graduation gown.

At her size, Amy had a difficult time finding any clothing that might fit her
body, let alone something for a special event. Her mother had a navy blue
graduation gown custom made to fit her musculature. Even so, it clung tightly
to her skin in ways a gown wouldn't usually fit a young girl. Her bulging arms
pumped gently as she walked, occasionally hinting at the etched muscle barely
hidden under the tight fabric. Likewise, her sashaying hips over-emphasized
her thick thighs and Brazilian-like bubble butt as she strode confidently.
Even her breasts seemed to rise pompously underneath the top, defiantly
showcasing her two most feminine assets (and were those erect nipples?)

It made an older (but no less beautiful) Amazon MILF sit forward in a too-tiny
auditorium chair and wave. Elizabeth Hardstone watched from the audience as
her daughter made her way across the partially blackened stage, a single
spotlight following her poised strides as the rest of the student body sat in
darkness towards the back of the stage. Elizabeth turned to glance at her
fellow spectators and had to suppress a chortle under a refined hand.
Everyone's mouths were gaping. Evidently, they had never seen a teenage girl
quite like her daughter (just as they hadn't seen anyone like her when she
first sat onto the creaking folding chair). Elizabeth folded one column of
thigh meat over the other and sat back to watch the show.

Amy walked to the podium and adjusted the microphone upwards to her lips (most
of the other speakers had been shorter than her). She turned to address the
audience with a confident gaze, her stunning face practically glowing. Her
flowing hair, done up with her favorite pigtails, was adorned with
sophisticated white lace bows for the occasion. She caught a glimpse of her
mother in the audience, thrust her chest out proudly and took a deep breath
in.

"Teachers, students, and fellow classmates, it is with great honor that I
accept the award for Valedictorian of Redmount High. I would like to first
acknowledge the ... help ... I received from Principal Statesmen and
Salutatorian Frank Willowbottom. Without their support, I wouldn't be here
today." She tried to keep herself from laughing, but a giggled belied her
intentions.

She continued. "Women have struggled for years with equality and respect from
their male counterparts. It wasn't too long ago that they had to fight for the
right to vote, and some are still challenged by unequal pay. There are women,
some in this very room, who still suffer from domestic violence and arranged
marriages. The scale has invariably been weighed towards masculinity for
centuries."

"It doesn't have to be that way," she said, pausing with briefly, her muscles
tensing. The sound of a single thread popping could barely be heard over the
hushed room. "Today's women, particularly young women, are no longer bound by
the bonds of patriarchy," she continued, growing in energy. "We no longer
cower in fear as we walk down dark alleys alone at night. We don't worry about
how much we had to drink, or fear we might be raped."

"We have the freedom to live our lives, personally, professionally - and
sexually - the way we want to." She looked out at men in the audience. "And we
have a lot of fun doing it," she said as she winked. Ripping sound emanated
from the graduation robe, which now appeared much tighter around her muscles
than before. Amy smiled coyly and took the microphone from its base.

"Tell me, guys. Or should I say, boys," she spoke as she walked across the
stage, her legs stretching dangerously against the now constraining robe. "How
many times have you said 'I want to get between that girl's legs?' Even girls
much younger than yourself. Maybe your daughter's best friend?" Some of the
men in the audience lowered their heads in shame. She spun the microphone by
its wire in a loop casually as she paused at the center of the stage for
effect. She glanced at her mom, who nodded her head.

Suddenly, Amy scissored her legs apart, ripping the bottom of her robe.
Powerful, smooth, teardrop-shaped thighs flexed in the bright light as a
murmur grew over the crowd.

"How about these legs, boys?" she taunted with a roguish grin. She turned to
the side and spread them apart, running a supple hand along the contours of
defined muscle. Her calves bulged as she cupped and caressed them.

"Your sons know these legs well," she continued, playing with the microphone
cord nonchalantly. She turned to the students in the darkness. "Mike!" she
yelled. "Get out here."

A young man tripped out of the darkness hurriedly and immediately kneeled in
front of Amy's towering form. She bent her leg and flexed it in front of the
much smaller teenager.

"Worship! Now!"

Mike shakily reached out, anxiously gripping her meaty calf. He was hard
pressed to put his hands entirely around it, so he leaned forward and started
to kiss it, much to Amy's chagrin. He licked up and down the crevices of the
flexed muscles until they began to shine in the spotlight, before making his
way gingerly upwards. The crowd was stunned.

Amy grinned slyly down at fawning boy and flexed her thigh to its full,
formidable form. The muscles exploded out and nearly knocked the boy backward,
his head noticeably smaller than their circumference. He wrapped his arms
around the thigh like it was a tree, letting his lips wander along the carved
striations as he again tried to please his teenage muscle mistress. Amy closed
her eyes as she heard the growing din of the crowd and let the feeling wash
over her.

As Mike made his way upwards towards her inner thigh, she friskily entertained
the idea of snaking her other leg around his head and just crushing him in a
head scissors right then and there. She restrained herself, though, as she
felt his trembling lips edge closer to her now wet lacy white panties. Mike's
neck bent backward as he pressed his head underneath her robe, causing Amy to
sigh contently. As the crowd's reaction began to grow out of control, she
reluctantly pushed his head away, peering out at the audience and catching a
glimpse of Mike's shaken father. "Time enough for that later, Mike," she said
coolly, her lips brushing the microphone as scurried his way back to his seat.

"Or let me ask you this, boys," she continued, making her way to the front of
the stage and again addressing the audience. "How many of you have raised a
hand to your wives? Your daughters?" She looked out into the crowd as she
twirled the microphone. Some men were visibly shifting in their seats. "Don't
be bashful," she continued. I know statistically at least 25% of the women in
this audience have been abused. Some of them multiple times." The buzz from
the women in the crowd grew. "Mr. Meekins," Amy looked down and ordered, "get
up here."

A bespectacled teacher in the front row looked up in confusion. Wisps of what
remained of white hair wafted left and right as the teacher pleaded silently
for help from his fellow faculty.

"I said, get up here!" Amy growled. She reached down and grabbed him rudely by
his collar, yanking his body straight up. As she did, the peak of her bicep
flexed and split her sleeve like a frayed, winding river. He dangled from her
powerful arm perilously.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Meekins, my freshman math teacher." As she spoke,
she idly began to curl his entire body up and down with her single arm, her
bicep and triceps growing fuller and becoming more engorged with blood as she
pumped. "Somewhat cute, for an older guy. Still not as adorable as another
teacher, though," she said wistfully. The remains of the gown's sleeve fell
off after several more curls, revealing her stone-like arm in all its glory.

"Please tell the audience, Mr. Meekins, what you said to me on my first day of
high school." He stayed silent in her grasp. "Oh, don't be demure," she
encouraged, her eyes getting serious for a moment as she stared into his. "You
certainly weren't that day."

"I ... " his voice cracked, "I said the girls in class shouldn't worry about
getting good grades because women can't do math well." An audible groan
escaped the audience.

"And what was my response?" Amy continued, looking down at the nails of her
other hand nonchalantly as she kept lifting him effortlessly.

"You said your mother was the head of a Fortune 100, and that one of her jobs
was to handle finances, which required extensive knowledge in math." Elizabeth
nodded silently.

"And then what happened?" She continued to curl up and down.

"I ... I said a young lady should never talk back to their teacher and if it
was the olden days, I ... I ... " She stared intently at him, forcing him to
continue. "I'd put you over my knee and ... and ... spank you," he finished
guiltily. An appalled exclamation exploded from the crowd.

Amy spoke slowly and deliberately now. "And then what happened, Mr. Meekins?"
she asked. The man trembled in fear. "What happened, Mister?" she repeated in
a childlike tone, bringing him up to eye level. She again looked down at her
fingernails casually. "Or would you like me to show them?"

"No!" his eyes blew up in fear. "Wait! Oh God, please no ... mpphh!"

In one swift motion, Amy dropped his face down into the crook of her bicep and
applied a devastating headlock. She pinned the back of his head to her chest
as his body hung from hers.

"I did something like this, didn't I teacher?" she explained as she walked
across the stage, beaming devilishly while the much older man hung like a
doll. "I was obviously much younger then, but even at 14 years old I recall
keeping you in check." She pressed an index finger inquisitively to her lips
as she twisted the headlock harder. "I think I came close to dislocating your
jaw if I recall correctly." She paraded him to the corners of the stage as his
small hands gripped uselessly at her tan, husky arm, chuckling as he
frantically kicked air as he tried to free himself.

"Tell me, boys," she spoke again to the crowd. "Would you raise your voice
towards your wives and daughters if they could do this?" She turned sideways
and flexed harder, her muscular bicep aglow in the spotlight, the man's head
barely visible underneath. "Would you strike a woman this much stronger than
you?" The older females in the audience started to stir in their seats as if
something had awakened within them.

"Let's ask Mr. Meekins," she suggested playfully. She brought the microphone
down to his face, which she let peek out from under her arm. His bloodshot
eyes darted around in fear. "Go ahead, Mister."

"Someone, help ... " he spat with pursed lips, " ... me ... "

"Wrong answer!" she sang as she ground down, her arm exploding into its full,
frightful width. His face disappeared into a twisting mass of muscularity as
his legs kicked violently, his fingers clawing uselessly. Amy's free hand
combed through her blonde hair, seemingly oblivious to the domination she was
exerting to the little man twisted in her grasp. She brought the mic to her
lips as she stared intently out at the eyes of males in the audience, their
eyes as wide as saucer plates. "Way too easy," she breathed out, biting her
lower lip.

The man's gyrations started to decrease. She threw her hair back in pleasure
as she watched him, attracted to the energy she was seemingly sucking from him
like a teenage Amazon succubus. With one final, harsh crush, a scream escaped
the confines of her biceps and his legs stiffening before falling uselessly
against her towering body. "Mmm ... " she moaned as she looked down at her
handiwork, licking completely around her lips. She dropped him unceremoniously
to the hard stage floor, a fellow teacher pulling him (still raggedly
breathing) from the stage, while she admired her flexed biceps and
horseshoe-shaped triceps. "Thank you, Mr. Meekins," she blinked mock
innocently, "for that demonstration."

She turned and faced the audience, chest swelling. "Finally, I would like to
speak about an important element of strength: pride. Without pride, without
inner strength, outer strength cannot exist. I know the biggest detriment to
independence is confidence. Without it, you cannot stride forward." Amy arched
her back forcefully, her breasts pushing hard against the confines of the robe
as stitches could be heard breaking.

"I am confident," she securely said to the audience. "Are you?"

With a quick snap of her arms backward, the remains of her gown ripped apart,
falling in tatters as her large young breasts perked proudly. The hum of the
audience grew. They had come to a high school graduation; they were witnessing
a bodybuilding striptease. Completely disrobed, the marble statue of a young
Amazon goddess posed before them, her tan skin in stark contrast to the lacy
white pigtails, bra, and panties adorning her body.

"Jacob!" Amy barked towards the inky blackness behind her. "Get out here.
Now."

A lanky teen rushed out into the spotlight. Jacob stood anxiously, his face
level with Amy's chest.

"Worship," she ordered.

Jacob reached up on his tiptoes, his hands cautiously stroking the caps of
Amy's bare shoulders. His fingers vainly tried to press on her stable traps.
Amy brought her arms forward into a most muscular pose, the sandbags of her
soft mammaries rising on the dense muscle of her chest.

"Pecs," she directed.

Jacob brought his shaky hands down. His fingers traced the valley of her
cleavage before massaging the solid muscle just under her neck. Amy's nipples
poked menacingly at the sheer bra.

"Lower," she teased.

Jacob hesitated, but Amy's eyes were insistent. He placed his hands on her
plump breasts as the buzz in the audience grew. His hands, average-sized but
small in comparison to her bust, struggled to encompass each hefty globe. He
delicately cupped each one, letting his palms rest on her now stiff nipples
under the bra.

"Harder." Amy's eyelids fluttered.

Jacob grabbed a handful of Amy's breasts, squeezing the delicate fabric and
supple skin. He pushed forward, feeling the solid brick of pec muscle
underneath. Amy opened up her pose, turning slightly to allow him to try to
cup the breast entirely with both hands - the boy could not do so. He massaged
the plentiful flesh vigorously, looking up at Amy for approval. She seemed
preoccupied, breathing heavily. Jacob slipped one hand under her bra, getting
a brief peek at her creamy white tan lines, his heart beating harder. He
caught one large nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Abruptly, Amy crashed her chest together, trapping his hand between her flexed
pecs. As he yipped out in pain, she brought a single index finger up, wagging
it. "Naughty, naughty," she giggled over the sounds of crunching bones. She
released his hand, which he quickly nursed in pain.

"How about a hug?" she offered hands on her hips. Jacob cautiously reached his
arms around her sturdy frame, fingers tapping the vast swath of her back but
keeping his distance.

"Aww, you can give a better hug than that," she taunted. She leaned forward
and wrapped her massive arms around him. Smiling modestly, she pulled his head
forward into her chest, resting his nose against her breastplate. She took in
a deep breath, her ample breasts spreading menacingly around the edges of his
face. She coiled her girthy arms around the back of his head, trapping him in
her chesty embrace.

"Mmm," she cooed, "now that's a hug. Amy likes big hugs."

Her breasts filled his sight as she leaned back, pulling Jacob's up off the
floor. As he kicked futilely against her tree trunk thighs she tightened the
hold harder, her blond pigtails falling onto her broad back. "Big, strong,
hugs" - she whispered, accentuating each word with a constriction of her arms.
She looked down and snickered at the boy trapped in her bosoms, playfully
poking a finger in and out of her cleavage as she tried to give him air to
breathe. She caught a peak of his eyes looking up into her dreamy ones. "How's
the view down there, baby?" she whispered.

Amy then dropped Jacob, who staggered on his feet dizzily. She brought the
microphone again to her lips. "Some would argue that pride and confidence go
with class. I agree: a strong lady is a classy lady. Some would also claim
that I'm a little underdressed for such a formal occasion," looking down at
her bare body. Her mom laughed a little. "Jacob," Amy turned to the boy,
"would you like to help me with that?" she asked innocently.

Jacob looked up in confusion.

"I said I'm a little underdressed." She leaned down to his face with the
microphone. "Would you like to be my clothing?"

Jacob began to run away, but Amy quickly grabbed his graduation robe, yanking
him backward. "I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter," she
giggled. She trapped his neck in the crook of one arm and the other around his
calves. With little effort, she hoisted him up, wrapping his body around her
strong back. His chest and the front of his torso crushed against her tan bare
back as she squeezed him around her like a shawl.

"Hmm, not a bad fit," she joked into the microphone as she faced the audience,
her legs spread in a wide stance. "Still, I'm a growing girl," she said
devilishly. Jacob's eyes grew wide.

With a soft grunt of exertion, Amy pulled him forward as she began to flex her
back wider. Her lats seemed to grow inch by inch as she pulled him against
her, crackling sounds emanating from his spine. She shook him slightly,
grinning down mischievously at the thin body wrapped around her. Despite his
groans, she could feel his erection starting to grow through his graduation
gown, against the winding curves of muscles. She lowered the microphone and
whispered over her back, "Looks like someone's enjoying this."

Amy lifted him higher, his outstretched body banded against the broadest
ridges of muscle like a medieval torture device. Now fully flexed, the
dangerous canopy of her back spread like a butterfly's wings against him. She
sighed contentedly as her arms moved to the top of his head and ankles from
the stretching, barely able to fit him across her expanse. Amy pulled forward,
making him elicit the most delightful noises as she felt his erection smashed
into her muscles. "Hmm, I wonder," she thought to herself. She leaned her head
back and gazed at Jacob's worn torso - he seemed to be wriggling against her.

Amy bounced Jacob's body against her back, pulling him tightly against her,
maneuvering his stiff cock in small, tight circles between her muscles. All
the audience could see from the front was a teenage Amazon manhandling the boy
in a backbreaking hold. They couldn't see, or rather feel, what Amy was
feeling. His erection catching the fabric of his robe, twitching against her
soft skin. "He couldn't ... " she thought. Amy grinding him up and down as he
writhed against her more. "He wouldn't ... "

Suddenly, Amy's mouth opened in a shocked "O" shape as she felt his dick spasm
out of control against her shapely back and a bellowing moan emanated from
Jacob's lungs. She felt wetness grow from around his crotch and spread across
his gown fabric against her firm lats. "Seriously?" she whispered to him
excitedly, "In front of all these people?" She rubbed him up and down, feeling
the wetness across her back and savoring the first time she had made a guy cum
using only her back. In public no less! Her tongue darted around her lips.

The startled audience looked on confusedly but Elizabeth, being an experienced
Amazon MILF, knew exactly what had happened and shook her head, smiling. A few
women in the audience grew visibly flustered, fanning their faces. They
weren't quite sure what had just happened, but they enjoyed it.

"Can't end the speech better than that," Amy thought to herself. She dropped
her spent human "shawl" to the floor. "Thank you, Redmount High, for four
wonderful years, she said she walked off the stage. "in Virtute, Victoria!"
The school's Latin motto: in strength, victory.

The cell phone turned on with a soft click.

"Hey there, Ourspace fans!" Amy called out, waving as she streamed to her
thousands of online followers. She and Jessica (her fellow teenage partner in
muscle) sat in a girlishly-pink bedroom. Their bright, summery faces filled
the screen as pop music played in the background. "We're here at my mom's
beach house, soaking up the sun this weekend."

"Independence Day weekend," Jessica interjected.

"That's right. The celebration of many freedoms. Like the right to bear arms."

The two stepped back from the camera, revealing and flexing their copious,
bronzed muscular bodies, barely covered by tiny swimsuits. Amy wore a red,
white and blue star-spangled string bikini, the top triangles barely covering
her nipples and a fetching ruffled bottom. Jessica wore a shiny, bright green,
slingshot swimsuit that crisscrossed across rippled abs to meet at her crotch.

"Jessica," Amy said, placing her hands on her hips, "why don't you tell the
folks at home about our trip?"

"Oh, it was a fun little drive," Jessica replied. "I seem to recall you almost
causing an accident."

"What, with these little things?" Amy laughed as she down into her deep
cleavage.

"Mm-hmm. Remember that one trucker? I think you 'distracted' his driving."

"Oh please," Amy said crossing her arms in front of her. "All I did was dance
to the music we were playing in the car. Like this." She began to flex her
pecs in succession, bouncing each ample breasts up and down to the beat. "This
isn't distracting, is it?" she said to the audience at home. She flexed her
pecs faster, her melons pushing the tight patriotic triangles outwards on
every bump. Her hips swayed as she flexed her abs, twisting them.

Suddenly, her breasts broke free of their fabric prison. "Ooh pooh," she
complained childishly. "Always hard to find swimsuits that fit. And what about
you?" she said, raising a plentiful globe to her mouth.

"What about me?"

"I remember a certain someone mooning an entire SUV of frat boys," Amy said
between licks.

"I did no such thing!" Jessica blurted out. "I mean I barely have the ass for
that." Jessica turned around slowly, revealing her thick, muscular butt. The
slingshot bikini formed a tight thong wedged deep into her ass crack. She
placed her hands on her hips, twerking her bronzed cheeks up and down to the
music. "See?" she kidded. "No ass."

"You do so have an ass," Amy sighed. "Especially when you flex it."

"You mean like this?" Jessica bent effortlessly at the waist to touch her
toes. The thin slice of fabric disappeared between her clenched glutes as
light dimples appeared along the carved muscles. She placed a hand on one firm
ass cheek and caressed it, eliciting the gentlest of moans from Amy in
admiration. Jessica tossed her hair over her black shoulder while she looked
back at the camera. "What do you think, folks?"

"I know what I think," Amy said, practically drooling. She adjusted the camera
so it could get a close-up of Jessica's amazing lower body and then got on her
knees. Her fingers danced across Jessica's skin. She traced her tongue from
Jessica's arched calf, all the way up her stretched hamstrings, finally giving
a soft kiss on a clenched marble cheek. Jessica trembled in pleasure.

The two girls heard the front door slam closed. "Amy! Jessica!" Elizabeth
Hardstone hollered, "Come downstairs!"

Amy and Jessica eyed each other with disappointment. "Coming, mom!" Amy called
down. She turned to the camera as she repositioned her bikini on her chest.
"Looks like you folks will have to wait for more fun. Tune in next time," she
said, blowing a kiss with her sensual lips before turning it off.

*** Continued in our Amy's Conquest (www.amysconquest.com) Exclusive, Members

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