Obsession
By Muscle Fan



My name is Alex, short for Alexandra actually and this is my story of my
obsession. I was a tomboy growing up in the Midwest. In school, I enjoyed
sports, all sports and was disappointed that I couldn't play football with the
boys. But that's not my obsession.

My father owned a moving company. Not big, but he did alright for providing
for my mother and I. He had two trucks and six full-time employees. It seemed
like there was always someone moving in or out of or small city.

I did well enough on my high school softball team to get a scholarship to the
state college. I played in my freshman year and we did well enough to win the
state title, the first time our school had competed.

I dated sporadically concentrating mostly on my studies and softball. At the
suggestion of my coach and the physical trainer, I started lifting weights.
The school I was at had a large weight room for the male athletes; football
players, soccer players and gymnasts.

The trainer gave me some exercises to do and I began lifting light weights at
first. This seemed to help with my hitting. I noticed that my batting
percentage began to climb. By the end of the season I was batting a
respectable .630. But what really pleased me was the transformation the weight
training was having on my body. I was normally lean, but after I began lifting
weights, I bulked up.

I liked what I saw in the mirror and so did a member of the men's baseball
team. Phil was a second baseman for the team. I would catch glimpses of him
watching me. At first I thought it was something I was doing wrong; catching,
throwing, etc. But finally he approached me one day on the field.

"Alex, ah," he hesitated, "would you like to have coffee with me?" he asked. I
looked at him for a long time as he studied his shoes. "Sure, Phil," I said.
"Thanks," he said, "tomorrow after practice?" "That would be fine," I said.

The following day, after practice and showering, I walked from the field
house. Phil was waiting. "You look nice," he said. I was wearing a dark blue
tank top and a pair of Yoga pants, 'Nothing special,' I thought. My short
blonde hair was still wet from the shower.

We walked to a nearby coffee bar. At this time of the evening it wasn't
crowded. We got out coffee and sat at a small café table. "Y-you look like
you've been working out," Phil said. "I have," I said, somewhat surprised that
he had noticed, "I like lifting and my hitting has improved. You don't think
I'm over doing the lifting do you?" I flexed my arm and watched my small bicep
contract. I looked over at Phil who only stared.

"What is it?" I asked. "Ah, well, e-ever since I was young," he stammered,
"I-I've like women with, ah, muscles." He sat there looking at me, waiting for
me to react. "Look, Phil," I said, "I only work out to tone my body, but I
have to admit, I like what I see, I like the results." "I do too," he said so
softly I barely heard him.

I smiled. "Would you like to see more?" I asked. He nodded, and said, "Oh,
yea." I laughed and said, "OK, come on," and got up from the table. He
followed.

I walked back to the field house at school and I knew Phil was studying my
butt as I walked. I smiled to myself as I entered the women's locker room. At
this time of the night it was deserted. Towels, a pair of gym shoes, a bra and
a pair of panties were littering the floor. I turned to face him. He kept
glancing around as if someone was going to jump out of one of the lockers.

"Now, remember," I said, "I've only been working out a short time." I pulled
my tank top over my head. My breasts are small, and I don't wear a bra, but
what breasts I have are firm. I peeled my Yoga pants down to well below my
navel.

"See," I said, looking at my firm abs, "you can see some definition here," and
ran my fingers over the belly. Phil only stared open mouthed.

In the months that followed, Phil and I dated. My team went on to win the
state softball championship where I hit a record 83%. It came as no surprise
that Phil loved muscular women, a fact that he confessed to one evening while
we were wrestling on the floor of his dorm room. He was no match for me and I
easily pinned him.

Summer break and Phil moved out of the dorms and went home. I worked for my
dad's moving company. I had known the men on the crew since I was a little
girl. Wearing the company uniform, a jumpsuit with 'Alex' embroidered on the
right breast; most clients thought I was just 'one of the guys.'

As it turned out, I could out lift most of these guys, but I didn't show off
or flaunt my muscles. Instead, I chose to be low key, but I could feel my
muscles getting stronger. That's when 'it' happened.

We were moving a man from his suburban home to an apartment in the city. His
wife had passed away and he was downsizing. We had loaded the truck and I took
one last look through the house and garage. That's when I saw the box. It was
on top of a cupboard in the garage.

Standing on a bench, I retrieved the box. 'Femflex' the label read. I looked
inside and saw six bottles. I pulled one from the box and looked at the label.
'Supplement for the athletic woman,' it read and gave the ingredients and
directions for use. 'Take one to two capsules a day,' the label read, 'for a
healthy metabolism.'

"Come on, Alex," the crew chief called from the front of the driveway. I put
the box beside the garage and closed the door. "All good?" Tommy, the crew
chief asked as I got in the truck. "All good," I said, "let's go."

That night I drove to the vacant house and retrieved the box. It was right
where I left it. I took it home to my room and studied the label. 'Supplement
for the athletic woman' I read for the second time. 'Well,' I thought, 'I'm
certainly athletic, so why not,' and washed down two capsules with water.

The next morning, I woke up and got ready for work. I stretched, and seeing
the bottle of 'Femflex' on my bathroom counter, took two capsules. 'I doubt
these will do anything but I'll try them for a week,' I thought.

That evening, I got home and unzipped my coveralls. I was sweaty but looked at
myself in the bathroom mirror, turning first one way, and then the other.
'Hmm,' I thought to myself, 'is it my imagination or do I look thinner?' I
swallowed two more capsules and stepped in the shower. I loved the feel of the
hot water cascading off my body.

The following morning I woke before my alarm. Standing in front of the
bathroom mirror, I flexed my biceps. 'Whoa,' I thought, 'what's going on,
they're bigger.' I couldn't tear my eyes away from my biceps. Not just a
little bigger, but more defined. I tightened my abdominals and I noticed the
beginning of a six-pack. 'I thought only guys got six-packs,' I thought
running my fingertips over the small moguls, 'I like what I'm seeing.'

From that point on I was obsessed.

By the end of the summer, I had grown three inches; I stood an even six-foot
tall in my bare feet. I weighed two hundred and five pounds. But what was the
most impressive to me was that I had a solid six-pack and that was without
even tensing my abdominals. My biceps had grown two full inches and my calves
looked amazing. My breasts were still small, but the underlying muscle was
striated. My quads were large with well-defined muscles from all of the
lifting I had been doing.

I called Phil to let him know that I'd be back, but he wouldn't arrive until
the following day. I decided to go to the field house and workout. Since not
everyone was back from summer vacation, I had the place to myself, at least
for the first hour. A petite girl opened the door and peered in. "Excuse me;
excuse me," she said, "Is this where the kinesiology class will meet?" I
stopped doing my lateral pull downs. "The what?" I asked. "Kinesiology," she
said, "You know, the science dealing with the interrelationship of the
physiological processes and anatomy of the human body with respect to
movement." "Uh-huh," I said, "I have no idea."

She came in looking around. She was perhaps five foot tall. 'Probably never
been in a gym before,' I thought as I began another set of pull downs. She
stopped looking around and watched me as I pulled down on the machine's bar.
"That looks heavy," she said, as I finished my last set. "Uh-huh," I said
standing up, "over two hundred pounds."

"I'm Gwen," she said, extending a small hand. I shook her hand and said,
"Alex, are you new?" "Yes," she said, smiling, "I just transferred in from the
east coast." I nodded, but then turned and looked at myself in the mirror.
"Are you a bodybuilder?" Gwen asked. I laughed, "No, no, just trying to keep
in shape is all. I play softball." "Oh," she said, "Well, you look like you're
in fantastic shape." "Thanks, I try," I said.

I was wearing a sweatshirt and sweat pants. They were drenched. I lifted the
sweatshirt over my head and tossed it onto a nearby bench. Gwen let out a
quiet gasp. "What's the matter," I asked. "Y-you're muscles, they're, they're
unreal," she stammered. I smiled and looked at myself in the mirror. 'Pretty
good,' I thought.

Beads of sweat ran down my chest. "I don't embarrass you, do I," I asked.
"N-no, no, not at all, I, ah, I just like to look at your muscles," she said.
"So does Phil," I said, "He's a friend of mine; he likes to watch me flex and
massage my muscles." Gwen nodded, and said softly, "Who wouldn't."

I smiled at her and flexed my trapezius. The muscles in my neck jumped, my
large traps expanding. "Oh, my," Gwen said. I laughed. "Would you like to feel
them?" I asked. She nodded and said, "Yes," and reached out and touched them.
"Hard," she whispered. I relaxed and smiled at her.

"Do my muscles turn you on, Gwen?" I asked. Her eyes darted away, considering
the question, but she nodded and then said softly, "Yes." I smiled at her and
moved her chin so that she was looking at me once more. "Don't be
embarrassed," I told her, "I'm flattered. Phil gets turned on too, why would
you be any different?" She shrugged and I asked, "Would you like to feel how
hard my abs are?" and I took her hand and placed it on my abs.

She ran her hand slowly over my sweaty abs, her touch making me excited.
"Lower," I said softly, "touch me lower." She looked up into my eyes and ran
her fingers beneath my sweat pants to my mons. "Hmm," I hummed, "that feels
good." Her fingers brushed my labia and her index finger found my clit.

I threw my head back and held my breath as she stroked my clit with her
forefinger. After several seconds, I began to pant; lightly at first and then
heavier. "Do-don't stop," I begged as she stimulated my clit. I erupted with a
thunderous orgasm, wetting my sweat pants even more than they were. "Hmm," I
hummed as the ecstasy subsided.

Gwen withdrew her hand from my sweats and placed two of her fingers to her
lips and then sucked my juices from them. I laughed as I watched her savor my
wetness. "Do you like that?" I asked. She nodded. "Good," I said, "I liked you
getting me off, but now I have to shower, come by Phil's apartment tomorrow
night," and I told her the address.

The following evening I arrived at Phil's. "Alex, how was your summer, have
you gotten bigger?" he asked as I entered. I chuckled. "I've grown several
inches and put on a lot of muscle, baby, I hope you like it," I said. I knew
he did. I kissed him deeply driving my tongue down his throat. He mumbled and
I allowed him to breathe. 'Poor, weak man,' I thought.

"Can I get you something to drink," Phil asked. "I'll wait for Gwen," I said.
"Gwen?" he asked, "Who's Gwen?" "Gwen is a girl from back east. She just
transferred here," I told him, "she came into the gym when I was working out
last night." "And you asked her here?" he asked. I put a finger to his jaw and
asked, "Oh, I'm sorry, are you jealous, Phil?" "What? No," he lied, "I'm not
jealous." I smiled and at that moment the doorbell rang.

I opened the front door. Standing on the porch was Gwen. She wore a short
plaid skirt and a blouse tied in front. Because of small stature, she looked
like a teen. 'She looks great,' I thought. "Glad you could make it," I told
her ushering her into the entryway. I gave her as deep of kiss as I did Phil
and then I made the introductions. I could tell that Phil didn't like Gwen
cutting in to our time together. 'Too bad,' I thought.

"Don't be a rude host, Phil, offer Gwen something to drink," I told him. He
looked at me but then said to Gwen, "Sorry, yes, would you like something to
drink; tea, water, a soft drink?" "Water would be fine," she said, and he
looked at me. "I'm fine, Phil," I said, "thanks."

"He's your boyfriend?" Gwen asked once Phil had left. "Not exactly," I said,
"Phil is my submissive. He does things for me." "Submissive," she asked,
"What's that?" "He does what I want, when I want," I told her. "Why?" she
asked. I smiled and flexed my bicep. By now I had sixteen inch biceps and her
eyes widened, "So he can worship these," I said, "So he can kiss, hold, stroke
and fondle my muscles." "Uh-huh," she said, staring at my arm, inches away
from her face. I smiled.

"Here's your water," Phil said, looking at my flexed bicep. Gwen shook her
head and then took the glass. I relaxed my arm. "Did you like that, Phil?" I
asked. He looked at me and smiled. "Y-yes," he said. I chuckled, "I bet you'd
like to put that cock of yours in the crook of my arm and flex for you,
wouldn't you?" He swallowed and said softly, "Yes." "I bet I could make you
come just by flexing your cock, couldn't I?" I asked. "Uh-huh," he said.
"Shall we try?" I asked.

Phil stole a glance in Gwen's direction and then looked back at me. "Don't
worry about Gwen," I told him, "she won't mind, will you, baby?" I asked.
"No," she said with little hesitation. "There," I said addressing Phil once
more, "now be a good boy and get undressed, you too, Gwen."

They looked from me to one another, but began to undress. I stepped out of my
leggings and peeled my tank top over my head. I love being naked. 'Who
wouldn't with a body like mine?' I thought.

"Stand on the couch, Phil," I said. I stood directly in front of the couch
with my back toward Phil. I slipped his erect penis in the crook of my arm.

"Gwen, I want you to get on your knees and suck my pussy," I said, "I want to
feel that tongue of yours against my big clit." Gwen sunk to her knees in
front of me and I flexed my arm, my muscle holding his cock captive.

Gwen playfully sucked my labia and pulled with her lips and then stroked my
clit with her tongue. "Hmm," I said, "That feels amazing, baby." I could feel
my excitement building. "Harder," I said, "suck me harder." I continued to
flex my arm, while Phil moaned softly.

"That's it, that's it," I said as I came in Gwen's mouth. A shudder ran
through my pelvis and Phil erupted, his cum falling on my arm and droplets on
Gwen below. Gwen gagged but swallowed frantically sucking most of my load. My
shudder subsided and I released my hold of Phil's cock. "Thank you, baby," I
said to Gwen, helping her to her feet and then giving her a kiss, tasting, my
cum in her mouth.

I gently took Phil's shaft and with a little pull, had him step down from the
couch. I whispered in his ear. He looked at me questioningly and then took
Gwen's wrist and guided her to the couch.

Phil stroked himself several times and, still semi-erect, poised his penis
against Gwen's labia. Wordlessly, the two joined, Phil slowly thrusting his
hips as he drove deeper into Gwen.

I stood at the end of the couch and ran a finger into my pussy, watching Phil
and Gwen. Soon I had two and then three fingers in my vagina masturbating as
they had sex. It was erotic watching the pair pleasing each other. Gwen
climaxed first and then Phil a moment later, tensing his body. I reached an
orgasm seconds later.

After that night, the three of us moved in together. We found a three bedroom,
two bathroom apartment near campus. Phil and Gwen share a bathroom and I have
my own. I've stopped taking the 'Femflex' after reaching six-foot, four-inches
and two hundred sixty-five pounds. That may seem heavy, but it's all muscle.

Fast forward to present day: I have nineteen inch biceps and calves, thirty
inch quads and an eighteen inch neck, a twenty-eight inch waist and
thirty-four inch hips. My chest is an amazing fifty-four inches although my
breasts remained small, my nipples are hard as marbles. Getting clothes that
fit is almost impossible, but I found a seamstress that is only too happy to
make clothes that fit my particular physique. I continue to work out, teasing
my muscles and keeping them strong and hard.

When Phil, Gwen and I are at home, we are usually naked; however, when I go
out, depending on where, I either try to cover up or go for the attention. At
six-foot, four-inches, it's hard to be inconspicuous.

The three of us have an active sex life, and fulfill each other's desires.
Phil and Gwen enjoy being dominated and I'm only too happy to oblige, however,
we are not exclusive to each other. It may be an unconventional lifestyle, but
one that suits us.

The three of us are out of college now. Phil is a psychiatrist, Gwen a
physical therapist and licensed massage therapist, and I'm a licensed sex
therapist. Once in a while we 'bring our work home with us,' as we call it. A
client who is in need of special attention or one who we think the others will
enjoy.

A particular client of mine is such a case. Roger and April Stevens were
having a problem and sought my council. Married only a year, April and Roger
were incompatible in bed, or so they thought. Their attempt at intercourse
left April unfulfilled while Roger was quick with his orgasm. Both Roger and
April were attractive, so I suggested a somewhat unconventional treatment.

April met with Gwen, who gave April a massage, rubbing oil deep into her
tissue while working her muscles. April is toned, but not muscular, and it was
Gwen's objective to help strengthen her limbs as well as her genitalia. After
the fourth session, when Gwen had finished her massage, Phil began to orally
stimulate April. Once April was aroused, Phil moved to her breasts; sucking
and pulling on each nipple.

Gwen straddled April on the table and lowered her crotch to the woman's face
where she greedily sucked her labia and clit. Meanwhile, Phil penetrated
April, slowly at first and then quickened his pace. Each came to a thunderous
climax fifteen minutes later.

In my session with Roger, I had Roger book a hotel suite. I arrived at the
designated time wearing a calf length black leather coat, carrying my matching
black leather carry-all. I wore four-inch stilettos, a black pleather thong
and a black satin bustier.

Roger was speechless when he opened the door. I brushed past him and strode
into the living portion of the suite, dropping my tote on the couch. I looked
around feigning interest and then turned to him. "Take my coat," I said. He
looked up at me and nodded. Once he folded my coat over the back of a chair, I
said, "Get on your knees." He quickly sunk to his knees, looking down at the
carpet.

"Look at me," I said, standing with my feet shoulder width apart and my hands
on my hips. I sneered and said, "Get undressed." Roger unfastened his pants
and then sat on the floor to get them off. Back on his knees he unbuttoned his
shirt and sat it atop his trousers on the coffee table. Now in just his boxer
shorts he looked back up at me.

I smiled down at him and said, "Stand up." He got to his feet. I hesitated,
never taking my eyes from him and then grasping the elastic waistband of his
boxer's in each hand, tore them from his hips. "When I say 'Get undressed,' I
mean you should get undressed," I told him, "Do I make myself clear?" "Y-yes,"
he stammered.

"Call me Mistress Alex, wimp. Tonight you're my bitch, do you understand?"
"Yes, yes, Mistress Alex," he said. I laughed. "You're pathetic, you know
that," I asked circling him. I stopped behind him and taking his cock and
scrotum in one hand said, "I asked you a question, bitch. You do know that
you're pathetic don't you?" He nodded but then said softly, "Y-yes, Mistress,
I'm pathetic," he said softly. I released my hold on his manhood. "Good,
good," I said.

I went to my carry-all and reached inside. I brought out a strap-on dildo and
hefted it in one palm and looked at Roger. "Have you ever had someone fuck
you, baby?" I asked, tapping the shaft of the phallic against my palm. "N-no,
Mistress Alex," he said, his voice breaking. I hesitated, looking at him,
tapping the rubberized dildo against my palm. "Alright," I said, laying the
strap-on on the coffee table and reaching into my bag, bringing out a pair of
handcuffs.

"Should I use these on you?" I asked, holding the cuffs up and jiggling them.
"N-no, Mistress Alex," he said. It looked as if he were about to cry. I
sneered once more and said, "You really are a pansy, aren't you?" "Yes, y-yes,
Mistress Alex," he said quickly.

I next held up a dildo that was fitted with a mouth piece at one end. It was
perhaps a foot long and three-inches in diameter. The realistic looking
phallic had a head and was ribbed with realistic looking veins. "Hmm," I said,
"This is what I need," twisting the shaft in my palm, "This will do when there
are no 'real' men available. Lay on the couch."

Roger lay on his back on the couch. "Open your mouth," I said, and inserted
the mouthpiece. "Hold still and let Mistress Alex do all the work, wimp. When
I'm ready to climax, I'll take that out and you can swallow all of my cum, do
you understand?" He looked at me wide-eyed but nodded. I smiled down at Roger
as I removed my thong.

Straddling his face I lowered myself slowly onto the rubberized dildo. "Hmm,"
I hummed loud enough for Roger to hear me, "I love a big cock in my pussy." I
began to rise up and down, slowly at first but I picked up the tempo.

"Don't let go, baby, don't let go of Mistress Alex' cock," I cautioned him as
I quickened my pace. I took a playful slap at his rigid cock and then wrapped
my fingers around his shaft. I stroked him and watched as a small fountain of
cum shot from the head of his penis. 'I got him off in three minutes,' I
thought, 'no wonder April is disappointed.'

I was nearing my own orgasm when I rose up on my knees and took the dildo from
his mouth. I squatted on his face and released my cum. Roger struggled to free
his face from my pussy, but he was unable. Satiated, I stood up on my knees.
Roger gasped for breath, his face awash with my wetness.

I stepped from the couch. The cushion around his head was drenched as was his
chest and face. I laughed and said, "Maybe that was too much for you to
swallow," and laughed again. I picked the dildo from the coffee table and ran
my tongue along the shaft savoring my cum.

"You come too quick, baby," I told him, "you need to control yourself. Now I
want you hard for me and I'm going to jack you off, but I want you to last,
OK?" He looked up at me and I said, "Watch," and I tightened my abdominals
watching my muscles get deep with definition.

Next I wiggled my quads, the heavy muscles going back and forth and then
'snapped' them taught. The muscles were deeply defined, thick veins running
beneath the skin. "See how big my legs are, baby, feel them," I said. He put a
hand on my nearest quad and ran his and along the muscles. I looked and he was
nearly erect.

"That's it, get hard for me, baby," I told him. I put a foot on the edge of
the couch and said, "Feel this calf. Its nineteen inches, feel how hard it
is." He ran his hand from the back of my knee to my ankle, lingering along my
calf.

'He's ready,' I thought as I knelt beside the couch. "I want you to last as
long as you can, baby," and lightly grasped his shaft. He made a mewing sound
and I repeated, "Don't come."

I stroked slowly and then increased the tempo. I glanced at his face. Roger
had his eyes closed and was biting his lower lip. I smiled to myself as I
stroked his shaft. 'Roger is of average size and girth,' I thought, 'it's a
shame he can't please his wife.'

Minutes later he ejaculated, a spurt of cum rising into the air before falling
on my hand, wrist and his abdomen. "Good boy," I said, "Mistress Alex is very
proud, but you'll need to do better. I can prolong an orgasm for nearly an
hour. You need to as well." What I didn't tell him was that he wouldn't be
having sex with me.

So my obsession with lifting weights changed my life. 'Who said obsession
isn't good?' I thought, 'Gwen and Phil are obsessed with women's muscles. Not
everyone is, but those who aren't, don't know what they're missing.'

I have many happy clients and have helped them overcome difficulties in their
relationships. 'Besides,' I thought, standing in front of my mirror at home,
'I love what I do,' running my hand over my breasts down to my mons, 'and I'm
deeply rewarded,' as I plunge my fingers into my waiting pussy.

If you've enjoyed 'Obsession', please let me know at covert.1@hotmail.com

Thank you,

Muscle Fan