Obsession: The Story of Cara

A story about an 18 year old girls uncontrollable muscle building desire


Note- Well folks, after a long hiatus I finally have both the ambition and
time to write again. Admittedly, I should have contributed more often over the
past year or so but alas I am here now with a new story for all of you. In
Obsession: The Story of Cara; I want to get away from the magic,
science-fiction, and sort of anomalous topics that I drafted before. While I
enjoyed doing those (and surely will again), this time I am portraying female
muscle growth with a harder, grittier, real-life edge with some slight
exaggerations of course =). This is a gradual growth story, so you'll have to
be somewhat patient to get to the good stuff, but fear not it will definitely
be worth it (promise!!). With that said, I will not subject you to any further
boredom. Enjoy the story and of course all comments, concerns, compliments,
and insults are more than welcomed to be e-mailed to me at fmgnut@yahoo.com.
My bookshelf on Diana the Valkyrie is: NHLcooLers.

Bodybuilding, the physical drive for one to develop and transform their
bodies. For the first 18 years of my life I hadn't the slightest idea that
such a sport (for women) ever existed. My name is Cara and what you are about
to read is a tale of discovery, fixation, passion from the once little girl
that was Cara Dolce'..

My story begins at the inexperienced age of 18, I just graduated high school
and my life took a turn for the worst. Of course my looser 20 year old boy
friend dumped me after a year of dating for no apparent reason, but even worse
was that my parents (who have frankly always been a couple of assholes...)
literally kicked me out of our 1 bedroom apartment that the three of us shared
for nearly a decade. They cited that they were "finally washing their hands of
the most expensive mistake they ever made", in that they felt that 18 years of
dreadful parenting fulfilled their obligation towards me. I was simply
devastated, I did well in high school and had ambitions of going to college,
but in an instance that seemingly promising future was taken from me. I
pleaded and begged with them for hours, but it was to no avail. Fortunately my
best friends parents owned a 8-family apartment complex on the south side of
town; after hearing my cries to my their daughter Ashley they were so
heartbroken, that they let me movie in for a fraction of the rent it would
normally cost to live there. I already had a job, I worked nights as a
waitress at a local restaurant, but with the expense of living on my own I
desperately needed a way to make more money. I looked around for a few days
and eventually found another waitressing gig for the mornings at a small
dinner only 7 blocks from my apartment. While the timing of these two jobs
were perfect for each other (10am-3pm at the dinner, 9pm-2am at the
restaurant) I wasn't even just getting by, there wasn't enough money to cover
even my necessary expenses; again fortunately for me, Ashley's parents were
extremely understanding and allowed me to give them "whatever I could afford"
and I always did but that didn't rest well with me. Tiered, disgusted, and
emotionally drained I needed a way to make more money.

Nearly 3 weeks into my job at the dinner, I was called in early one morning;
obviously, frantic for some cash, I came in for 7 am instead of my usual 10.
Around 7:15 I was wiping down a table in the corner of the room when I saw 4
utterly gorgeous girls (but oddly scantily dressed) walk into the dinner, I
was taken back by their beauty; not only where they facially beautiful but
their bodies were amazing! They looked liked they could be on the cover of
Maxim magazine! Long, shapely legs with sexy calves; tight midsections with a
line going down the middle (one girl even had faint definition of her top two
abs showing); hot, round bubble butt's, nicely toned arms with no sag/jiggle
at all, and of course a nice pair of big full breasts. On top of their
super-model figure each of them were tanned to absolute perfection, depicting
a deep golden bronze from head to toe. Now, aside from their stunning
appearance, there was another aspect of them that I envied: money. While
watching passively as I worked, I saw each girl bring out a wad of cash from
their respected purse and proceed to count giddily as if they had hit a casino
jackpot. Confused and bewildered, I asked Santos (the part-time chef) to
explain the situation to me, he said they those four girls were strippers at
Club Fantasies downtown and had been coming here for years (while always
having a lot of cash on hand, he remarked). Of course, now this whole
situation made sense to me; I finished the rest of my shift contemplating the
events of that morning. Upon arriving home, I instantly went into my bedroom
and gazed into the mirror; Although I have a very cute face and oddly large
boobs (36 D) for someone of my build, 5'4, 100 gangly lbs and strangely pale
wasn't exactly stripper material. To accomplish any goal you need to have a
driving force, and for me it was an ease one: money. If I made the kind of
cash those girls did, I wouldn't need to work two crummy jobs, be almost
pathetically poor, and have virtually no social life. I was out of options, I
had no college-credits, no career, and because of this I saw stripping as a
viable way out of poverty for me. It was clear to see what I needed to do in
order to get a job of this nature; my face was there, no need to worry I'm
pretty enough; I needed to work on my o-so-boney body. I craved that sexy,
toned, feminine physique that will make men give me their kid's college funds
with the slightest glance of my body. But, with of course zero money to join a
gym or fitness center of even the most meager kind, I needed another effective
way to shape up.

As I mentioned above, I was a college bound student, so I was resourceful
enough to do some research on fitness threw the city's library computers. I
found that body-weight exercises (if done precisely!) were an excellent way to
shape my body at practically no cost. The routine I conjured up hit nearly
every part of my body: Chest/Triceps= Push ups, Biceps/Back= Chin ups (using
the metal bar installed high in my closet), Quads/Hamstrings/Gluteus= Squats
(with my arms fully extended, held at shoulder height), Calves= Toe Raises,
and finally Abs= Sit ups. The key to body-weight exercises (so I read) is that
they be done with slow, exhausting, and meticulous reps that will hit the
target area with amazing precision; for that toned, sleek looks that I needed
to possess. Strategy for my belly would take a slightly different turn; I
performed my sit-ups the moment I rose in the morning, with no food in my
stomach I would be burning pure fat from my frame. I decided to work out 5
days a week (doing only one muscle "group" a day), performing each exercise
for 15 sets to failure (until I couldn't do them anymore). But this routine
would only be a portion of the battle, from what I gathered from my reading;
my diet would be instrumental to my fitness goals. While of course I am on an
extremely limited budget; even I can make simple, coast conscience adjustments
that would aid me dramatically. Instead of eating my usual junk food (cookies/
chips/ soda), I would buy items like tuna, chicken, and turkey with only water
to drink. In total, it would be a dramatic change to my life-style but it was
one that I believed could get my life out of this terrible rut. Thus my
fitness mission began; I quickly found out that my body responds well to
fitness activities, even after the first few days I could feel these simple
exercises beginning to shape and mold my skinny frame. Right from the first
rep I used impeccable form (not cheating in any way- I knew that wouldn't get
me anywhere) and because of such strictness, for each exercise I could only do
about 6-8 repetitions per set at first (except abs, which I managed to do
around 15 reps).

As days turned to weeks and weeks into 2 months I literally saw my body slowly
change workout by workout. While of course, I couldn't be the cover girl for a
fitness web site; I thought the results were rather impressive for a
relatively short period of time with zero gym equipment. Again I gazed into
the mirror, and this time in place of a frail waif; I saw a sexy, taunt 18
year old hottie. Smiling with self-indulgence, I couldn't help but run my
hands all over my new flat stomach that showed definition in my budding
obliques, tight thighs and calves that resembled a high-school sprinter, arms
with an ever-so-slight hint of tricep showing, and lusciously round and toned
tits and ass. After applying the cheap tanning ointment my dark bronze body
looked even better, I simply couldn't stop smiling because of how ridiculously
fucking hot I looked! Now, I was ready and I knew it. Slipping into a slutty
outfit and heels, I made my way to Club Fantasies. It was 4 pm, and the place
was dead; as I approached the end of the entrance hallway I was confronted by
a man in a red suit. "Miss, the performers enter from the back.." he said with
a hint of annoyance on his voice, I replied "Actually, I was looking for a job
Mr....?"; he then quickly retorted "Stevens, Walter Stevens and judging on
looks alone your more than qualified, I am the manager here, you start
tonight".

My materialistic ambition worked out marvelously and although I quite my other
jobs, I was making triple the pay while working less than half the hours. I've
been working at Fantasies for 3 months now; and as I indicated the money was
amazing, I was pulling about $1,500 a week on average. With my escalated
income, I moved into a much nicer apartment around the edges of the city,
bought a new convertible, and of course joined a fancy gym to keep up the
money maker (a.k.a my new stripper body). So, as you can see everything is
going to plan; and I could not have been happier until an event took place
that would forever change my life. Sunday, August 17th, around 3:30am I was
walking my round, tight ass to my car in a practically empty parking lot after
yet another lucrative night on the job. I heard the voice of some drunk looser
who but not 15 minutes ago dumped a cool $400 in my thong while salivating at
my big, firm boobies; he said "hey SLUT, you didn't think I was going to let
you keep my money, did ya?" With a cocky grin a replied "Get lost bud, before
I get security to kick the shit out of you".. Satisfied with myself, I turned
and faced the door of my car when suddenly a large cold hand grasped my
shoulder and spun me around. Then the brute hit me with a powerful backhand
that instantly sent me falling to the ground, he jumped on top of me and I
felt his dick harden and grow through the fabric of his pants as it pressed
into my thigh. He then whispered to me "What's the matter cunt? Not so
confident when you have to defend your weak and helpless self, are you?" Just
as the asshole brought himself up to unzipped hit pants, an uncontrollable
fury came over me; almost on instinct I lifted my toned thighs up and drove my
knees into his soft gut. Grasping his midsection he fell backwards to the
ground, were he laid almost unconscious because of the excruciating pain I
just put him in. Moments later security from the club dragged his near
motionless body from the ground and threw him out of the lot. I thanked them
and again turned to the door of my car, but before I drove home I found myself
staring at my athletic quads that fit very nicely into my new jean skirt. I
spent a good portion night contemplating this new sensation I was feeling.. As
I thought about the incident, I soon realized that I liked it, I liked the
pain I caused him, but most of all I liked the power I had...

I woke at 1 pm I called my best friend Ashley and told her about what
happened. After detailing the encounter, I blurted out the truth to her
"Ashley, I liked it", sounding somewhat confused she said "liked what Cara,
coming close to getting raped?". I replied, "No, the power Ashley, I hurt that
scumbag badly and I enjoyed how strong I felt doing it; in these last 3 months
I've really been hitting the gym hard you know". She said, "yea I know Cara,
I've been there with you everyday, but babes you look like you should be on
the cover of Playboy now, not Flex magazine". It was in this moment that it
hit me, what if instead of toning and shaping, I decided to build and grow my
muscles? Sure, why not? I see big muscle bitches in the gym all the time, I
could only imagine how strong and powerful they are. And to be perfectly
honest since I've been going to this gym, I started to like, I mean really
likkkee that muscle look on women; in fact it has been forcing me to question
my sexuality. Seeing all of that sexy, ripped bulk straining the seems of
their flimsy gym attire is enough to make me rip my panties off! It was
decided: I wanted that power, I wanted those fucking MUSCLES. But I was no
fool, I knew that if I went on my "she-hulk" quest and succeeded, which I
WILL, the club would of course fire me for sure.

With the possibility of financial problems yet again on my mind, I decided to
do more research before I went all out. It took me a couple of weeks, but I
found what I was looking for; through my own detective work I discovered an
underground fighting league for only muscular women right in the heart of the
city. The following night when I was off, I decided to check it out. The
information I got was dead-on accurate, the fights were held on Wednesday
nights in the basement of an old factory complex that had been abandoned years
prior. I headed underground and stopped when I came to a metal door, signaled
by the camera to my right the eye piece slid opened at the top; the brutish
man on the other side said, "Come on in gorgeous, I hope your wagers bring you
fortune tonight". I flashed a smile and went into the crowded stands; "Don't
worry buddy, the next time you see me you'll be sending me to the competitors
area", I thought silently. The cage had only one door, and only one girl was
coming out of it alive; the matches here were held in the nude and were till
death (which explains why the fights are so popular). The fight card was made
randomly, it all depended on how many girls showed. The audience would bet on
the girls and thus the organizers and the performers would take a cut of the
cash. Rumor has it that a win in the cage would score the victor around
$10,000, depending on the size of the audiences bets. This all seemed
devilishly intriguing to me, but here again, I am no idiot.. These girls were
worked; large, vascular muscles were bulging all over the frames of these
babes and I was in no hurry to get myself killed. It would take me time, but
I'll be there someday (I said to myself as I drove home that night after
checking the venue out). So with that, I devised another plan of attack. I
would start working out and eating like a hardcore bodybuilder immediately,
when it became obvious to the owner of the strip club he would fire me, but by
then (hopefully) I will have built up such a big surplus that I could go a
while without working until I could hang with the big girls. And at that
point, I'll compete in the cage and get back that financial security again.

Every waking second that I wasn't working or sleeping I immersed myself into
the bodybuilding world. I extensively researched proper nutrition, training,
along the always mysterious genetics factor. I was ready to go, I had
everything I needed to get huge (or so I thought, but more on this later); I
possessed the knowledge, facility (brand new, fully equipped 24 hour gym I
belonged to), and most importantly the unwavering desire to grow, in fact I
guess you could call it an...obsession. =)

Right from the start my body began to respond quickly to weight training,
within 2 weeks I could feel a difference, I could actually feel my small, fit
muscles being stimulated by the weights of my intense bodybuilding training
regimen. I felt like a volcano ready to erupt, as if in a moments instance I
was going to transform into a Ms. Olympia competitor. By week 6 I could now
actually see a difference, early one Sunday morning around 3:40 am I was
hitting my biceps with some standing alternating curls. Since I began a little
over a month now, I already moved up in weight in all exercises including this
one; I started with those insulting pink 10lb girl dumbbells and now I am up
to the 17.5's. While finishing my last grueling 12th rep I imagined my biceps
exploding out of my arms with hideously massive, hard jagged peaks; I enjoyed
the thought as I completed the set, taking note of the wet on my pussy of
spandex workout shorts. Racking the dumbbells I was soaked with sweat,
reaching back to pull my dripping hair out of my pretty face I peered in on my
arms and said "oh my god, I'm getting bigger"; I looked up at the mirror and
flexed into a double bicep pose. Out popped 2 tiny bumps that I swear weren't
there but a week before, absolutely giddy I began to flex my hardest all over
and I saw similar progress all over my body; especially in my legs and
stomach. My belly had a sexy line going down the middle with tighter oblique's
on the sides; and my legs had become even more shapely with slightly bigger
quads and claves. After flexing, I literally ran to the empty locker room and
quickly gulped down my post-workout protein shake, when finishing I looked
towards the mirror where a single steam of shake missed my mouth and ran down
my chin; standing there, breathing heavy I again acknowledged the changes that
were already occurring in my body as I let my eyes dance across my physique.
This preliminary progress wasn't quite enough to get my fired from the strip
club, but I was certainly on my way and I loved every second of it. Crushing
the plastic bottle in my hand, I threw it in the trash and skipped my now
slightly tighter, rounder, more protruding butt to my car, drove home, and
went to bed, I had growing to do! (if you not sleeping, you not growing
baby!!)

Another 2 months had passed since the discovery of my progress and I am now
18.5 years old, speaking of progress =), things continue to go nicely. When I
began training I was 5'3 103lbs with 12% body fat, I am now 114 with 9% body
fat. While numerically it seems like not to much has changed, but believe me a
3% drop in body fat and a 11lb weight gain of pure, solid, unsaturated muscle
is amazing for a 5'4 girl who has only been training a hair over 3 months. I
decided to workout before I went into work on Wednesday and lucky for me it
was leg day, my absolute fucking favorite body part to train. In the locker
room I slid my tiny grey cotton shorts over my gluteus (yes I actually have a
kind of noticeable "buff butt" now!!!), I smirked as I can feel that my ass
was filling out the shorts more and more every time I'm putting them on.
Walking to the hallway that accessed the gym, I stopped and shot in the
mirror; I looked like a figure competitor now; tight, firm, and toned all over
with distinguishable parts. I love training legs, I love the pump they get, I
love the feeling of my shorts getting tighter around my growing thighs, but
mostly I love letting the handle fly and going all out in training them as I
do with every other part. After a grueling 2 hour workout my legs were fucking
worked, I finished my last set of presses with 2 (45 lbs) plates on each side.
Walking back to the locker room I felt my legs pulse with new muscles like
never before; the teardrop was actually getting noticeable and they are
certainly thicker overall even through my hammy's (hamstrings-back of the
leg). After I changed, I returned home and had to go to work, and obviously
the inevitable happened. I headed directly to the changing room, but was
confronted by the owner, Mr. Stevens; "Cara, please come with me" he said. We
entered his office, and I was pretty sure he didn't want a blowjob, he sat
behind his desk and said "You know I hired you 4 months ago now because you
were a knockout, you could give a fucking guy a hard on just by looking at
him; now you still have that gorgeous face, but I've been noticing your body
has been getting sorta muscle-ish...to much for this strip club". He continued
"Now, your far from Ms. Olympus or whatever they call that lesbian freak show
competition, so it will be nice and easy for you to get back to being my #1
piece of ass in this joint; so ill give you whatever time you need to get off
this fitness binge and get back to looking the way you should, does that sound
fair, babe?" His ignorance was infuriating me, I clenched my fists and I felt
my forearms pulse with power; new veins rose to the surface of my arms as I
flexed my arms as hard as I could. I said "how about this...Stevie, you give
me every fucking dime you have in that safe behind you and I might not beat
you senseless". The arrogant bastard laughed and said "what, haha, you get a
little cut up with some pathetic girly muscles and think your she hulk or
something, hahhaahaha". After that remark I blew my fuse, I leaped over his
desk, grabbed him by his cheap suit collar, balled up my fist and gave him the
fiercest punch I could muster. The impact sent him hurling to the ground, I
then crossed my quads around his neck and started to squeeze. I applied more
and more pressure, flexing my legs as hard as I could; I simply was possessed,
I couldn't stop myself. Looking down at my thighs, and I liked what I saw,
they were the same size as this morning after my intense workout; pumped and
hard they swelled larger than ever. I was immensely enjoying myself as I felt
my pussy get wet again, then he barley managed to get out "wa..i...t,
don't...take the mon..eyy". But that wasn't good enough, he needed to be
punished, he needed to be taught that this is what happens when a girl decides
to start pumping serious iron; fortunate for him, my morals got the best of me
and I stop squeezing just as he passed out. Standing up I looked at what I
just did, and I liked it; even though I've just started and I am not nearly as
big as I want to be, I am on my way, I am getting stronger, bigger, and more
powerful with every passing day. I got the key to his safe and unlocked it,
with $20,000 inside, it was well worth my effort. I looked the door of his
office and I left club Fantasies for good, I don't think Mr. Stevens will be
pursing any criminal action; unless he's wiling to admit he was beaten up by
just a wimpy girl. =) Upon arriving home, I assessed my funds; I saved up
$15,000 of my own money plus this $20,000; which gives me $35,000 to go on
until I'm big enough to tussle with the big girls downtown. A reasonable
amount of money I thought, it should last me about 8 months; but given that my
food bill was growing steadily too (you need to eat to grow baby!!) , I
actually was a little nervous, I needed another way to make some additional
cash.

The following Monday morning at 7 am I arrived at the gym, I weighed myself
before I started my workout; the needle tipped to 115lbs, "nice" I thought to
myself. I was hitting chest today, another favorite of mine, but then again
what body part don't I like?? Today I started with a incline dumbbell press,
after a few warm up sets I could already feel my little pec's pushing my tits
(they haven't lost any size at all, this I chalked up to my genetics!) against
my sport bra. For my first set I grabbed the 35's, which by now I can do a
strict 15 reps with; I sat on the bench, got the mental image of my growing
pec's and began pumping. After a solid 15, I racked the 35's and grabbed the
40's, which I stick with for 10 reps now; looking in the mirror I crossed my
arms over my chest a few times just to get the blood flowing, smiling I was
taking note of my swollen chest when suddenly I overheard the solution to my
money problems. I overheard two meat heads in the corner talking about an open
bodybuilding regional competition, in which the winners of the respected male
and female weight divisions would each earn $15,000 and the heavyweight
winners (and only the heavyweight winners) would qualify to compete nationally
(this will be explained later, don't worry, you'll love it!). "God Cara,
that's it" I thought to myself, why not put this body into use right now. The
competition would be held in 4 weeks at the auditorium in the city, there
would be 3 divisions, light, middle, and heavyweight; each receiving the same
first place prize. It was settled, I was going train as harder than ever and
win the lightweight division in 4 weeks. I finished my chest workout my chest
workout with intensity like never before, in the locker room I hit an
abdominal shot and took note of my now 4 pac abs; fat was melting from my
midsection with every workout. I then stripped my sports bra and looked at my
pumped, bloated tits; bigger than last week for sure, smiling I headed to the
shower.

"Common bitch, one more fucking rep", I was thinking as I finished my last set
of bicep curls with the 25 lb dumbbells. "Getting stronger every week Cara,
not to mention bigger to" I said to myself as I raised my left arm and flexed,
a tennis ball sized bulge popped out of my arm; I enjoyed as it ripped and
continued to harden while I continued to flex. It was early Sunday morning
again, 2 am, and nearly 4 weeks have passed since I heard about the
competition; in that time I have worked very hard and it has indeed paid off.
Alone in the dark gym, I took off my spandex top and bottom, standing nude I
looked at what I've accomplished over the last 4 months. I weighted in at
121lbs now with 7.8% body fat, for some reason my body has the uncanny ability
to get leaner as I gain sheer bulked muscle weight; it was another anomaly I
chalked up to my superior genetics. Every muscle group was clearly noticeable
now, I could see vascular muscles popping all over my physique; my build had
certainly entered the lightweight bodybuilding realm, but with every blessed
second I craved for more. I closed the night with an abdominal thigh flex,
planting my toes into the rubber mat I thrusted my hips forward and flexed my
now ripped belly, in a mere 4 months I got a fucking 6 pac but this site only
fueled my passion as I imagined my abs bulging out further, thicker and harder
than now. "Nice definition" I thought, but my pride and joy are my legs;
sinewy and defined my 21" quads were starting to press tightly together to the
top of my legs, "my dear, you growing very nicely" I whispered to myself.
Going to bed that night, I slept confident about tomorrows event and content
with my progress at the moment.

The following morning I woke at 5 am and hit the scales immediately, it showed
a slim increase at 121.5; "Christ Cara, you look leaner than ever too!" I said
out loud as I twisted my upper body side to side while admiring my grainy abs
and striated oblique's. Excited as hell ate a hearty breakfast, prepared my
makeup, show bikini, and music CD for my posing routine; I then put on a baggy
sweat suit and headed out the door for 7 am. I arrived in the parking lot a
half-hour later, signed up, and headed backstage to change; the show started
promptly at 8:15 am. While applying my makeup, I discreetly listened to a
conversation going on in the corner between two heavyweight female
competitors. "Holy shit Pam, your as big as those national girls now; it looks
like you packed on a good 20lbs, what the hell are you weighing these days?"
the smaller of the two girls said. "146 shredded pounds" the larger of the two
said as she inflated her chest and expanded her lats, causing the somewhat
loose fitting t-shirt she had on to instantly fill up with mature, beefy
muscles. The larger of the two continued, "As you know Kim, to get even on the
national stage these days you have to be at least 150, since they and the
Pro's only have a single heavyweight division now". The smaller of the two,
Kim, responded, "No shit, huh? Over the last 5 years, competitive female
bodybuilding sure has made a turn to better and BIGGER things; hell, the
smallest Pro's are coming in well into the 160's today" (see I told you I'd
explain it, and I'm sure you loved it!). Kim continued, "So how much did you
up your dosages too?", at this point my interest reached an even higher level.
The bigger girl, Pam, said "My Deca (mass building steroid) is at 800 mg/
week, and my Winn-V (common fat loss anabolic) is about 100mg/ day; I was out
of options, I am 43 now and over the last year I had to make one last push to
make it BIG". "Fuck girl, no wonder why your heading to the nationals!", Kim
concluded the subject with that as they entered discourse about their amazing
non-stop sex lives. "Wow Cara, how the hell could have u been so naive?", I
muttered to myself as I finished my make up and head to the restroom. "I gotta
get on that stuff, I need to be stronger, I wanted to be bigger, NOW!!", I
screamed out loud in the empty bathroom. The show went smoothly enough, in the
lightweight division I was among the biggest there and easily had the best
muscle quality among my class; thus I succeeded in taking 1st and got the
$15,000 check, take a fucking guess were every cent of that prize is going to.
As I drove away from the competition, I vowed to myself that I would do
everything and anything to get on the stage with the big girls and beat them,
all of them.

Immediately upon my arrival home I went directly online and purchased a 6
month supply of the same anabolic steroids that Pam from the contest was
taking, except I wouldn't take such wimpy dosages; I settled on 1500 mg/week
on the Deca and 150 mg/day for the Winn-V. It took a seemingly forever 6 days
for the drugs to arrive, when they arrived on that Monday afternoon I tore the
package open immediately. Nearly salivating at the mouth I uttered, "Here we
go baby, this is what you've been waiting for", with that I attached the
syringe and sucked the liquid into the vial until it was nearly overflowing. I
pulled down my sweat pants to my knees to reveal my plump buttocks, swabbed
the target area with a cotton ball and injected the juice into my body; to me
the pain felt so satisfying I almost fucking orgasmed when I felt the liquid
enter my body. Directly after, I pulled up my pants, grabbed my gym bag and
headed straight to the gym. Monday, as you know its chest day, I parked my car
and made my way to the locker room; there I put on my tan colored sports bra
and matching tiny spandex shorts, weighted myself at a ripped 122lbs and began
training with unmatched intensity. First up today was the flat bench press,
after my warm-up sets I put on my current rep weight of 150lbs (10 reps); "not
bad for a girl who started with the 45lb bar, but don't worry I AM going to be
doing much more soon", I thought to myself. Laying down on the bench I again
began to press the weight, peering down into my chest I could see that with
each hard rep my pecs were pumping up underneath my 36 D boobs. It seemed that
right from the first set the roids were working; 2 hours later I held my
extremely pumped tits in the shower after my workout, they felt heavier,
harder, more taunt, and most of all appeared bigger than they ever had before.
From that moment, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

And changes there indeed were, from my first injection I began a different
lifestyle. I now always worked out late at night around 11 pm to ensure that I
would be undisturbed while going all out and training my fucking hardest. My
workouts increased to last an incredibly demanding 3 hours with a strictly
imposed 30 second rest period between my sets to ensure my muscles were pumped
to their skin tearing limit. The one side effect I had to the immense amount
of steroids I was taking was a moderately deeper voice, which I think sounds
sexy as hell now. Consuming a ridiculous 6,000 clean calories a day was
actually beginning to wear down my savings, and on top of that my roids were
almost depleted. It has been 5 months and 2 weeks since I started juicing and
the results as you probably expected were nothing short of outstanding, my
obsessive dedication to my body paid off in god damn spades. It was Thursday,
shoulder day, I was sitting in the military press rack; drenched with sweat,
strands of my sexy long black hair stuck to my head as perspiration poured
down my pretty face. Gasping for air I was dead-set on finishing this last set
of my brutally punishing 3 hour workout, I had 225 loaded on the bar that was
suspended above my head and you can bet your fucking balls that I am getting
that for 10. Taking a final breath, I heaved out my 48 inch striated chest to
the point were I felt the seems of my sports bra gradually pull away from each
other; raising my beefy, vascular arms I grasped the bar and tensed my now 17
inch grapefruit sized biceps. Ready to begin, I rose my head and looked at the
mirror across the room; the single light shining down on me accented my 8 pac
slabs of abdominal muscles, through the shadowy glaze I could see every
individual pac rippling from the 2 below my tits to the 2 right above my
pussy, covered by my tiny spandex bottoms. I lifted the bar from the rack and
powered that mother for a full set of 10, after racking the weight back above
me I stood up and gawked at the softball sized deltoids I had pushing out from
my shoulders. Walking back to the locker room I felt my 27" quads expand and
press even tighter together as they bloated out larger every time I stepped.
In the changing area I stood on my tippy toes and I could only smirk as I felt
my 18" calves pushed up threw my skin to form the perfect inverted heart shape
they now possess. Looking back into the mirror on the fall wall I zoned in on
my buttocks, god you should see it now; it looked as if I surgically implanted
a volleyball into each side of my ass, the huge perfectly round orbs of meaty
muscle were perturbing out more and more every time I worked my gluteus. I was
now 152lbs of shredded beef, and my strength was also growing at an equally
alarming rate. My bench was 275 for 10-12, squat 405 for 8-10, and curling
50lb dumbbells for straight sets of 12. Every instance were I wasn't training,
eating, sleeping, or injecting was spent on pure pleasure, I couldn't help it;
I was so turned on by myself I haven't had a partner in these 5 months, I
would rapidly finger myself while flexing in my full-length bedroom mirror for
hours on end in the solitude of my apartment. The reactions to my new physique
were amusing, ranging from scared shitless to visibly drooling; I put in
countless hours, sweat, and tears to look like this, I am one of the big girls
now but its not enough, it never will be.

As I indicated above, money was becoming a serious issue; I only had a mere 3
weeks left on my gear and I sure as hell wasn't good to stop taking the juice.
The problem and the solution was clear, I needed more money to keep growing
and the next open regional contest wasn't being held until a little less than
2 months from now; I needed to fight in the cage event I described earlier. I
would do absolutely anything to fulfill my lust for growth and power, even
kill. On the following Wednesday night, I drove to that old factory complex
were the matches were held, steadfast and indomitable I proceeded to the
underground entrance. Even with wearing baggy sweat pants and a XXL t-shirt,
there was no hiding my now heavyweight frame; I approached the same metal door
as I did almost 9 months ago. The eye piece slid open and the same brutish man
was behind entrance, I heard a soft chuckle and the door opened; the man said,
"I figured I'd be seeing you again, take a left to access the competitor area
and good luck gorgeous". I thanked him and followed his instructions, I had
the biggest shit eating grin on my face as I walked down the long murky
corridor. At the end I came to a dimly light room, in it there were around 20
muscle girls pumping up and preparing for battle. Although a few of them still
had baggy attire on, it was clear my body was comparable in size to the
largest of women there, when I signed up I got more than a few scowls as my
presence did not go unnoticed. I made my way to an empty corner and started to
prepare when I was interrupted, "Excuse me, I am sorry to bother you, but are
you Cara Dolce'? The beautiful girl who won the open regional lightweight
championship 5 months ago?". Turning to face her I recognized the girl, it was
Pam; the girl whose steroid conversation I ease dropped on and I almost
creamed in my pants when I saw that we are the same size now. I said with a
slight giggle, "Yes...that's me, little Cara", almost dumbfounded Pam managed
to mumble, "A..nd..dd.. how old are you my dear?". I cockily replied, "Oh, I
am turning 19 in two weeks", as she showed facial expressions of disgust and
jealously, I saw Pam's large muscles enlarge and harden beneath what used to
be a baggy top. Pam then blurted out, "19 huh? You conceited bitch, it took me
20 god damn years to build this body and I am not going to let some young
freak of fucking nature get in my way of my last SHOT!!". After her rampage
Pam stormed away, I was both perplexed and emboldened by the incident;
curious, I went over to the table were the score card had just been made. And
there it was, it read "Fight number 7: Cara Dolce' vs. Pam Oliver"; a evil
sneer of delight crept across my face as I returned to the corner to finish
preparing. Eager to pound this cunt it seemed like days passed before the
match was called, and then over the speaker I heard, "Contestants in bout 7
please be ready, your up next". With that message I stood up and began to
strip my clothes off, standing there in the nude my body was bursting with
more power that I ever felt before; the announcer called our names and we
walked to the ring. When I stepped on the blood stained mat the crowd of
hundreds went into a might uproar, so load that I could barley hear the cage
door slam shut behind us. 20 feet away stood Pam, I examined her bulky body
and compared it to my own; it was clear that she had grown since her I last
saw her, but it was equally evident that my size matched hers in every area.
The official weigh-in billed us both at 153lbs, the one exception between us
was my overwhelming muscle quality; even though we had the same measurements,
my muscles looked far more developed as my body fat was significantly lower at
6.8%.. She looked scared and she should be, she's obviously worked very hard
to get this big but her older muscles were struggling to keep their fullness
as they looked flat compared to mine. The bell rang and the fight began, Pam
was the aggressor as she thundered towards my position, her thick 17" arms
swung wildly but failed to hit me. When Pam missed with a violent left hook I
quickly drove my densely muscled 27.25" leg into her open gut, but at the last
second Pam managed to tense her stomach and her tightened 6-pac abs absorbed
the blow with ease. "Lets see who's the real woman here", Pam mockingly said;
she raised her arms and opened her palms, I accepted her offer and we locked
hands in the ultimate test of strength. Her grip was so tight it hurt, not to
be outdone I too flexed my arms for more power and thus added more pressure to
the hold; the site was truly one to behold, in the middle of an iron-caged
ring stood the 2 swelling bodies of nude heavy-weight muscle girls. Her
strength was amazing, Pam was every bit as strong as me and she knew it; for
over 2 minutes we grunted, moaned, and pushed with every ounce of raw female
muscle power that we could muster. Mid way through the second minute we were
both sweating profusely and are arms were starting to shake, as our stances
drew closer we were forced to arch our backs to accommodate the strength
erupting from our pumped bodies. Moments later we locked eyes and proceeded to
gaze at each others impressive frames, with each passing second I slowly but
surely could feel my muscles continue to inflate larger and larger until it
was almost painful for my skin to accommodate the growth. To be fair, the same
change was happening to Pam but at a slightly slower pace; her ripe older
muscles were being pushed beyond their limit every moment that we remained
locked. Pam knew she was in trouble, her bulging muscles were completely
tapped as they reached their maximum pump; the 43 year olds body began to
tremble from the strain of the now insurmountable force I was applying. Her
hands suddenly gave in, I took this opportunity to place my 17" plus arms
around her torso and squeezed with more power than I ever dreamed of
possessing a year ago. Pam let out loud desperate screams as she kicked her
meaty 26" legs with no apparent plan of escape, her width decreased by a inch
or two on when I heard a disgusting popping noise coming from what used to be
a broad solid back. Dropping her shrinking physique to the floor I quite
literally went in for the kill, I wrapped my strapping 27.25" plus quads
around her sickly looking submerged abs. Her cries of agony only mad me
squeeze even harder as I enjoyed feeling and watching my thighs bloat out to
thicker with new cords of muscle. "I'VE GOT A KID, I GOT A FUCKING KID", Pam
yelled; before responding I took pleasure in the sound of her cracking ribs, I
then said "Pathetic cunt, I'm sure you must have spent lots of quality time
with your child over the last 15 months while you were lifting your ass off in
the gym 5 fucking hours a day! Besides, you the stakes baby, too bad though
for an older girl your actually kinda hot". Rearing back I was writhing with
pleasure as I let out a near primal roar and used my full power to crush my
opponent between my mighty legs. Looking down, my bulging thighs were
saturated with a mixture of the blood from Pam and the cum I just ejaculated
all over her lifeless body. In the mist of the thunderous applause from the
crowd I heard a hysterical "NOOO!!", standing up I looked out into the stands
to see a teenage girl of no more than 16 years old unlock the cage door and
run to Pam's corpse. "Mommy, no..oo...", the pretty blond uttered as she
sobbed holding the head of her Mom in her lap. The girl had obviously just
begun to tinker around in the gym as her small but rather lean arms showed the
protrusion of golf ball sized biceps when she cupped her mothers skull; she
lifted her head and darted me a cold vengeful stare, as I droved home that
night with the a $12,380 bounty it almost turned me on knowing that I had not
seen the last of her. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Pam's grief soon turned
to revenge when she arrived at her trailer park home; sliding open the medical
cabinet she found her mothers stock of steroids. Lifting her right arm she
flexed her bicep, peaking higher than it ever had before she held the flex
until her arm trembled with fatigue; she then boldly announced "No matter how
long its takes Cara, I swear it".

Regardless of the dire stakes, the kind of money I earned that Wednesday night
was impossible to turn down; to finance my freakish muscle obsession I decided
to compete in the cage from now on. Next up for me was another open regional
contest being held in exactly 1 month and 2 weeks from now, and this time I
was more than built to take on even the most difficult of challenges there. To
get ready, I went back to the gym for more pain-staking hours of training;
besides with exceedingly high my cost of living (mainly roids and food) I
could always use another pay day even though I was taking in thousands every
week from those nude cage matches. The time passed quickly, all I could think
about, all I could do was train, eat, inject, play with myself religiously,
and sleep; I was simply consumed with developing my muscles. So much so that
when I officially turned 19, I didn't look at it as my birthday, I looked at
it as biceps day. The day before the contest I was in the gym at my usual time
of 1 am and again it was time to access my marked progress. Even though I was
growing at a even more explosive pace than before, I could only imagine myself
with an extra inch, another pound, or with additional detail. At this point I
was spending well over my regular 3 hours a day working out, pumping more and
more iron with every visit. My sinewy, rigid, 161lb body pulsed with a dark
thick veins that covered my tanned physique; when I reached the girls changing
area I had a tremendously difficult time peeling off my spandex now, calling
it a second set of skin at this point wouldn't quite do it justice. Standing
in awe of what I was becoming I began pleasuring myself right there in the
locker room of my 24 hour public gym; ounces of hot steamy cum kept spewing
from my pussy. I stopped 45 minutes later, well after my orgasmic convulsions
became uncontrollable.

Wearing my usual warm up attire I drove to the neighboring state early the
next morning for the competition, I had to get new clothes for these contests
as even my baggiest of garbs were now snuggly clinging to my swelling frame. I
signed-in and heard the same typical, witless sex banter that always comes
from the mouths of these fitness sluts; it made me sick to think that instead
of crafting and improving their bodies, they were wasting their time with such
unnecessary pleasures. As I predicted, my physique was leaps and bounds ahead
of the other girls in the heavyweight division; with my closest competition
coming in at a feeble 143lbs, victory was guaranteed. With this new sense of
superiority, I strode confidently to the pump room to prepare; when arriving
an announcement was made that the current Ms. Olympia, Lena Burst, would be
guest posing before the event! This was something I had to see, I quickly
finished my preparations and went out to the stage to see this goddess in
action. What I saw was what I imagined myself becoming one day; at 218lbs of
incredibly dense meat, the reigning Ms. O possessed mounds of enormous,
shredded muscles that made me so envious I wanted to fucking scream. I had
never seen a girl so developed, I wanted to look like her, I wanted her body,
and as you know I was prepared to do anything to get it. I won the contest
that day and thus qualified to compete on the national level, but my success
did nothing to fuel my obsession, as it had a new goal to achieve, and another
level of muscularity to attain. My reason for existence now was centered on
defeating Lena Burst and as always becoming the most muscular girl on the
planet, and beyond.

But that tale is for another time, perhaps... =)

I hope you enjoyed the story, please as always I encourage everyone to send
their responses to my new (and hopefully permanent) e-mail address to:

fmgnut@yahoo.com