You’re staring again (extended video) (Patreon)

“You’re staring again,” she said, her voice low and dripping with amusement. Her lips curved into a smirk as she tilted her head, the sunlight glinting off the water droplets clinging to her bronzed skin. “Admit it. You want to stare.”

The poolside was quiet except for the faint hum of chatter in the distance, but all I could hear was the thud of my own heartbeat. She lounged on the edge of the deck, her massive frame dominating the space around her. Her crimson slingshot bikini clung to her like a second skin, barely containing the overwhelming power of her muscular physique. Every curve, every ripple of muscle screamed dominance. And yet, she made no effort to hide herself. Quite the opposite—she wore her strength like a crown, daring anyone to look away.

Her biceps flexed as she leaned back on her hands, her shoulders broadening like a goddess carved from marble. Her thighs, thick and sculpted, pressed against the edge of the pool, the veins in her calves standing out like rivers of steel. She wasn’t just big—she was perfect. A living, breathing testament to what raw power looked like when it was honed to its absolute peak.

“I used to be small,” she purred, her eyes locking onto mine as if she could read every thought racing through my head. “Weak. Fragile. People used to look right through me, like I didn’t even exist. But now?” She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Now they can’t stop looking.”

---

It hadn’t always been this way. There was a time when she was invisible, her presence so unremarkable that people would bump into her on the street without even apologizing. Back then, she was soft, her body lacking definition, her confidence buried under layers of self-doubt. But something shifted inside her one day—a fire ignited, and she decided she would never be overlooked again.

She started lifting weights. At first, it was just a hobby, a way to pass the time. But soon, it became an obsession. The clang of metal, the burn of lactic acid in her muscles, the drip of sweat down her back—it all became addictive. She craved the transformation, the way her body responded to the strain, growing stronger, bigger, more imposing with every rep.

And then there were the mirrors. Oh, the mirrors. She couldn’t stop staring at herself, watching as her shoulders broadened, her arms thickened, her abs carved themselves into existence. It was like watching a statue emerge from a block of stone, chiseled by her own hands. The more she grew, the hungrier she became. It wasn’t just about being strong—it was about being unstoppable.

Her wardrobe changed too. Gone were the baggy sweatshirts and oversized jeans. In their place came tight tank tops, compression shorts, and—eventually—bikinis that barely covered anything at all. She wanted people to see her. To gasp when she walked into a room. To feel the weight of her presence bearing down on them like a tidal wave.

Which was how she ended up here, at the pool, basking in the sun and the attention of everyone around her.

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“Do you think I don’t notice?” she asked, her voice cutting through the haze of your thoughts. Her gaze was predatory now, sharp and unrelenting. “The way your eyes linger on my arms? My chest? My legs? You want to touch me, don’t you?”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. You tried to look away, to avoid her piercing stare, but it was impossible. She was magnetic, drawing you in like gravity.

“Go ahead,” she taunted, leaning forward slightly, her muscles rippling beneath her skin. “Admit it. You want to feel what real power feels like. You want to know what it’s like to be under my control.”

Your throat went dry as she stood, her towering figure casting a shadow over you. Water cascaded down her body, her red bikini clinging to every inch of her like it was painted on. She took a step closer, her movements slow and deliberate, each one calculated to make you squirm.

“I can see it in your eyes,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re imagining it right now, aren’t you? Wondering what it would be like to have my hands on you. To feel my strength pinning you down, holding you in place while I make you beg.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as she closed the distance between you. Her scent—musky and sweet, like salt and sunlight—filled your senses, making your head spin.

“But you don’t have to imagine,” she said, her lips quirking into a wicked grin. “I could show you. Right here. Right now.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing against your jawline, and you felt a jolt of electricity race through your body. Her touch was firm, commanding, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“All you have to do is ask,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “And I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

“Well?” she demanded, her grip tightening slightly. “What’s it going to be?”