18-year old Amy Hardstone is in detention, and she seduces the teacher, Robert Scott, who is sitting in on the detention.

Why is she there? Because she got into a fight. With three guys, and gave them a severe beating, leaving them in hospital.

Amy shows Robert her huge biceps and massive thighs; flexing and breaking the desk she was sitting at. Then she mashes Robert against the blackboard with her enormous breasts, almost smothering him.

Amy both attracted and terrified the small teacher. And when he calls her a freak, she's upset, and shows it by mangling the desk. Robert tries to make a run for it, but is stopped by collision with Amy's hard body, and then she crushes him in her arms, leaving him unable to breathe.

Awesome artwork by legendary artist Jupiter 1.

Though with such unreal physical statistics as near 17" biceps, 27" thighs, DD-cup breasts, and a full 6 feet in height, it wasn't long after she started her own personal page that people started calling her the very obvious Amazon Amy, and her OurSpace page was literally flooded with male (and even a good amount of female) admirers of young, sexy, hard, female muscle. Which eventually lead to her being introduced to a separate, very select and private grouping of young girls (ranging in age from 18 - 23) who like herself were strong, powerful super feminine hardbodies. These sexy young Amazons were always on the look-out for more girls like themselves, and in Amy they found one of the best, so it was a no-brainer in giving her an official invite to this very select group. It was in fact her idea to arrange for pictures of their various feats and conquests to be taken and downloaded onto their own pages, showing off not only to one other, but to the very select grouping of lucky male admirers of female muscle all over the world, who simply couldn't get enough of these strikingly beautiful, teenage Amazon girls. Exquisite artwork by legendary artist Jupiter 1.

Amy dons her classic schoolgirl uniform and wrestles guys as a summer job.

Later backstage, the sexy teenage Amazon ravishes a man in the shower and 2 in the locker room.

The scene starts out with the two gorgeous young musclegirls giggling up a storm, both filled with unreal excitement as they get themselves ready for their first female muscle video clip. Something neither of them have ever officially tried before, yet something they would wind up doing with such ease and unreal skill (not to mention plenty of sexy, young, female muscle) that anyone watching would have thought they had been practicing this online art for many years now. Bouncing up and down on a nearby bed (which was barely large enough to support these two massively muscle packed young women, Amy and Jessica were dressed in very short, tight and revealing lingerie, as they playfully smacked one another with large pillows taken from the front of this very bed. A true "Amazon Girl Sleepover" fantasy come true, and this was only the first 15 seconds.

"Hi all, we're back, did you miss us?" Amy spoke out in a girlish tone, lowering her soft pillow down to her side, as she jumped off this barely still intact bed, with her fellow musclegirl following suit. "Well, we sure missed you" Jessica giggled out, continuing their act of little girls, which wasn't too far of a stretch, since they themselves were only 18 years old. Though you wouldn't know that from their voluptuous physiques, which displayed a level of athletic shape, size and hardness that one would think could only belong to someone several years their senior. Yet as much as their bodies gave them the appearance of womanly age and maturity, their incredibly gorgeous and youthful faces made them look almost too young to be "enjoying" such videos and photos. As for their maturity, well girls will be girls, which goes double for those with rock solid, steel hard physiques, who were more than able to take virtually anything that they wanted\u2026\u2026or in this case, ANYONE that they wanted. "We hope you liked our pictures, we worked really hard on them for you all, almost as hard as our Big, Sexy bodies, I'd say" she continued to chirp out in her little girl's voice. "

Oceanside Beach was a prime destination for high schoolers and young college students looking for sand and surf (and sometimes love) in the summer - and it was the perfect road trip for 18-year-old super muscular high school seniors Amy and Jessica.

The sun beat down on the hot parking lot, baking the asphalt and the cars slowly pulling in. As Jessica's candy apple red convertible drove into an open parking space, one would be remiss not to miss the mountains of teenage muscle (in the tiniest bikinis imaginable) settled into both the driver and passenger seats - or the giggling of these two teenagers. Indeed, the two gorgeous, 6-foot-tall Amazons nearly caused multiple accidents on the trip.

"Did you see that one truck driver? He almost veered off the road when he saw my chest!" Amy giggled in her high-pitched voice as she got out of the car.

"Well, can you blame him?" said Jessica. "Look at your top!" Jessica's eyes looked down from her best friend's gorgeous face and blond pigtails to her baby blue, way too small string bikini. The top was stretched so tight across Amy's massive chest that the string threatened to break at any moment.

Babette is a very pretty and very tall girl. At six feet seven inches, she towers above most men. But what she has in inches, she lacks in brainpower.

When she leave college, she gets a couple of low-paid jobs, until she accidentally find that she has a talent for boxing, because she has small, hard fists and a very long reach. Babette can smack a man in the head long before he can reach any part of her.

She meets Marty, who acts as her manager, and supervises her training, including building up her muscles. The story culminates with a boxing match against Victor, who gets totaly destroyed in a very short time.

Story and artwork by Diana the Valkyrie.

Ginnie tortures and torments her victim, then handcuffs him and attaches a lock to his cock and balls.

Then she rapes his mouth with her strap-on, followed by raping his ass.

She beats him with a riding crop and makes him kiss her feet.

The bill was four hours of training, four hundred dollars.

Hannah is 5'9", 125 pounds. Her strength, speed and skill is impressive, as are her 42G breasts.

Knowing that a gorgeous golden goddess like Hannah possessing what could only be described as superhuman strength made Brick\u2019s dick as hard as granite. It had the exact same effect on Gary and Johnny.

She had a figure that was the perfect balance of slender and voluptuous. She had a trim, tight waist and wide, womanly hips. Her taut, round ass was like a ripe peach that was just begging to be sampled. Her long, shapely, pleasing legs, delicate feet and ten sexy toes completed the impossibly pulchritudinous portrait.

And on top of Hannah\u2019s otherworldly beauty, there was her unreal strength. Brick knew that Hannah was easily at least twenty times stronger than he was. Exquisite artwork by Edson.

It's Jessica's birthday!

And there's a nice surprise waiting for her - but maybe not so nice for Matty, her boyfriend.

His weak body is no match for her powerful muscles, her crushing vagina or her smothering breasts.

Jessica's friend Amy accompanied her to the Rose and Thorn, where they get into a fight with a bunch of bikers.

They call her "La Toro", because although she's female, she's built like a bull. She's six feet seven and 310 pounds, one hell of a lot of it is muscle.

She demands submission from all men, but especially from her husband, who she tortures each day with her powerful muscles.

And this is an account of one such day. One day in the life of the husband of La Toro

Don't read this if you're of a weak or nervous disposition. Try to avoid any woman who becomes inspired by La Toro. But most of all, if she does one day kill her husband by going just a bit too far - do not volunteer to be his replacement. Excellent artwork by international artist ZGannero.

His new stepsister, Emily, is nineteen years old, heavily muscled and six foot eight.

She immediately starts to bully him and tells him his car is in her spot. She rolls the car onto its roof. Then she kicks him in the belly and delivered a painful and humiliating spanking.

His sister Teddy tries to help by rubbing cream onto his sore arse, but she uses something that Emily gave her, which makes things much worse. Emily holds him upside down betwen her thighs, while Teddy rubs on more of the painful cream.

Several days later, Emily apologises for her behaviour, and explained that it was a testosterone thing, and she needed help to deal with it - the help being, of course, sex. But sex with a powerful muscle girl is great at first, but as the hours go by it is more painful, humiliating and embarrassing.

Then Emily started to have a sexual relationship with his sister Teddy! And then the new mom used dad as a test subject for her business. Her business was items for discipline.

Story by Diana the Valkyrie.

Policewoman

By Amazon Lover

Tim is challenged to armwrestle a policewoman; she turns out to be stronger than he is.

Terri is 5'11" tall, weighs 155 pounds of solid muscle, and her measurements are 39EE-24-36

She told him that she enjoyed his humiliation, and then suggested that the wrestle. Her body scissors crushes him easily, she pins him with her straddle. This was followed by a full nelson, a surfboard and a head scissors. tim was really wiped out! Artwork by legendary artist MadMax.

Story by Diana the Valkyrie, art by Tan Yk

An Amazon acquires a new victim in the gym and has hot and heavy sex with her. When the victim's boyfriend tries to interfere, he is destroyed with a single punch.

She drags her victim into the Ladies room, and gives her more sex than three women would be able to take; more than a dozen men could give.

The boyfriend, recovered, tries to intervene again, so she breaks his arm.

She takes her new girl and the boyfriend to hospital, where they hook up with a nurse that she knows, and the three women have powerful sex together while the impotent boyfriend watches from his hospital bed.

Zrinka Ryovska is six foot nine and built like a bull.

She comes from Ruthenia, visits a geek, and explains to him that he is going to be a voluntary sperm donor to a million Ruthenian women.

To make this possible, Zrinka will send a bodyguard to protect him - Magda, nearly seven feet tall, her muscles hardened by twenty years of pulling an 800 pound plough through hard scrabble ground.

And Mikayla, a milkmaid, six feet four. She was able to bring a well-trained man to orgasm thirty times in a day's activity.

The Black Burqas go worldwide

The problem was this. Even the most muscular Black Burqa, like Naamah, looked like any other woman in a burqa; that was the whole purpose of the garment. And no-one could tell who was wearing a black burqa as a fashion statement, and who was one of the muscle queens that could terrorise any man unlucky enough to find himself embraced by her thighs.

But then something unusual happened. The Black Burqas have a web site, so that people can contact us and apply to be an official Black Burqa. We won't take just anyone who applies. You have to be able to bench press 300 kilograms, which neatly eliminates all men, as well as all women who don't have the musculature that every Black Burqa should have. This is prominently stated on the blackburqas.com web site. Of course, that web site is banned in most countries.

I stood at the "incoming" area at the airport wearing my best black burqa. I noticed that men edged away from me nervously, but the women seemed to like being nearby. I didn't have to wait long before the flight from Chicago disgorged its passengers, and Phillida was obvious, because she was the only woman getting off that flight wearing a dark blue burqa.

I stepped forward. "Phillida Watkins, I presume?" and we both laughed. "Coffee first," I said, and we went to the ridiculously over-priced airport coffee shop. "Your husband allows you out without a guardian?" she asked. I snorted. "Raafid allows me to do whatever I tell him to allow, He's tasted the crushing grip of my thighs, and he doesn't want to ever feel that again. But," I continued, "tell me about you."

The Black Burqa part four

The patriarchy become afraid of the Black Burqa movement, which is spreading rapidly.

There's a media campaign, orchestrated by the Ministry of Truth. trying to discredit them.

So the Black Burdas raid the Ministry of Truth and help the Minister to understand the true meaning of the Quran.

Ayesha breaks one of his ribs, then squeezes him so hard that he can't breathe, and his bladder voids.

They crushed the gates of the compound into a tangle of useless steel piled in a heap, and they left a black burqa there to show what had happened.

My name is Ayesha. I am a pious Muslima, married to Raafid, my four children are Maryam, Gamali, Nasif and baby Kaadiha. I wear the veil, because I am a modest woman.

I'm not smart like my friend Sfiyah. She seems to know everything. I read my Quran, and I'm still rather ignorant, unskilled and often I don't understand what people are saying. But I'm happy.

At least, I was happy, until Raafid decided that he didn't like my cooking. To be honest, I don't blame him - cooking is one of the many skills I've never mastered. My food comes in two varieties, soggy or burned.

So for the last two years, we've been at loggerheads. First, he spoke to me and told me to improve my cooking. I asked "How?" but he didn't have an answer. Then he tried to punish me by not joining me in bed. That's supposed to be a punishment? And when neither of those worked, he started beating me.

They say that what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. That seemed to be true for me - I noticed that I was thickening in the places where the blows landed. And it was hard muscle, protecting my body from Raafid's rod. He kept it hanging on a hook on the wall, and I knew that when he took it down, I was in for another beating.

"Those high powered rifles can go straight through even Kevlar" he told me. "Yes," I agreed. Actually, I was surprised that no-one had guessed that we'd kitted out our women with steel plate armour - armour much heavier than an ordinary man could carry. And that steel armour, weighing about a hundred pounds would deflect an AR-15 round. We knew this, because we'd tested it.

"But what if the shooter had gone for a head shot?" That was certainly a possibility, but gun training was to aim for the centre mass, because a head is a much smaller target. "If he'd gone for a head shot, it would certainly have been "Goodnight Gracie", but we sent in three Black Burqas, and even if one was killed, it would be a good trade for the lives of the thirty children that he was holding hostage."

"That's incredibly brave," said the interviewer. "We're women," I replied. "And we're mothers. Children are the purpose of our existence. You'd need to be a mother yourself to understand, but here's a simple way to put it. The female of the species is more deadly than the male."

I continued. "Men talk. Men negotiate. Men compromise, and while that is appropriate for many purposes, when it comes to children, there is no doubt, no hesitation and no compromise. Our Black Burqas had one and only one purpose. If the police had tried to stop them, they would have been swept aside. If one had been shot then the other two would have continued to rescue those children."

"The shooter was in a real mess when the police went in, wasn't that excessive force?" he asked. I repeated, "There is no compromise. No negotiation. Anyone who threatens our children, gets the immediate white-hot fury of the female of the species. In this case, what happened exactly was, a punch to the belly to incapacitate him and double him up, a knee lifted to meet the face coming down and break the nose and teeth, and a double-fist rabbit punch to knock him out and lay him flat on the ground. And when a Black Burqa delivers that triple whammy, the recipient is knocked cold for the next several hours. And if it's delivered too hard and the guy dies, then we're not going to weep for him, he threatened our children with death."

"And if in the course of taking down an active shooter with a gun, he gets injured, then I'm not going to apologise to him. Even if he loses a few fingers when the gun is seized and is unable to fire a gun in future, then that's just a consequence of his decision to pick up a gun and kill our children."

I was just burning some toast to go with the soggy beans for Raafid's supper, when Sfiyah turned up, and she had someone with her. Who? I don't know, she was dressed head to toe in a black burqa.

"Hey," Sfiyah said. "Hey hey," I replied, "what's the timing for toast again?" She looked at what was pretty much charcoal. "About ten minutes ago," she answered, "this is Asma. She wants to be a Black Burqa."

I blinked. A what?

Apparently, my appearance at the masjid had led to some confusion, mostly because Sfiyah also wore a black burqa when she went there to douse the lights. So people already thought there were two of us, and if two, why not three?

The great thing about a burqa, is that no-one could actually see me. It was like a disguise, only better. So no-one, except me and Sfiyah, knew the secret identity of the Black Burqa. I suppose Raafid might have guessed, but he was too intimidated by me to tell anyone. It must be terrible to live with someone who, at any time, might inflict painful violence on you. I know this, because that's how I had lived for years and years.

"Who was that mysterious woman?" people were asking each other, and the guesses were all over the place. Every woman around here was wearing a niqab with a face veil; a burqa was only a small step further. Who was that masked woman?

Asma spoke. "I've been through eight years of beatings. And each time he didn't kill me, he made me stronger. And now I want to be like you, a Black Burqa. I want to help all the women who are being trodden on and treated unjustly. We women are supposed to be treated like queens; too many of us get treated like serfs."

Sfiyah visited just now, and she was quite excited. "Ayesha, I have a task for you." Uh-oh, I thought, she wants me to bake a cake, and I'm a really rotten cook.

But that wasn't it. "You know Jawaria?" "You mean the one married to Dawud?" "That's right," said Sfiyah. "Well I was with her yesterday, and she has a big bruise on her cheek." "How did that happen?" "She said she bent over and hit it on a tap, but I don't believe that's true." "Why would she lie?" "To avoid the shame of admitting that her husband beats her. You remember, you didn't tell anyone when Raafid was beating you."

"So why is it your problem?" I asked. "It's a problem for all of us," she replied. "We are all sisters, and so we must care for each other." "Maybe he had a good reason to beat her?" I wondered. Sfiyah gave me a withering look. "Like Raafid had a good reason to beat you?" "Good point," I admitted. "So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I think you should Raafid him. Do what you did to Raafid." "But that was different. He was going to marry off Maryam when she was only thirteen, and I just lost my cool at him."

Sfiyah shook her head. "That was the trigger. But the real reason was all the abuse you took over so many years. Well, now Jawaria needs your help." "Why me?"