Chapter 6: Becky is Queen of the Jungle

For just a second, time stood still. The girls were electric with excitement as Becky’s enormous bicep trembled with power, seeming to grow as she stared down at Jake. The boys murmured nervously as Jake’s whole body trembled with fear, seeming to shrink as he stared up at Becky. Then she brought her fist down onto his face, sending a shower of blood and teeth across the ring as a sickening cracking sound filled the air.

It was the most violent, one-sided display of power that I had ever seen in my life, and I had never been more turned on. I removed one hand from my panties and began to twist my nipples as hard as I could, straining my eyes to see every striation of Becky’s incredible body. Her sprawling back swelled with muscular power while she glared down at Jake, who moaned and wallowed in a pool of blood as Mike and Cedric stared in horror. “I told you I was going to bweak your face if you said that word again,” she growled, pointing a finger at Jake. “You made me do that to you.”

Mike and Cedric exchanged a panicked glance, and then launched themselves at Becky. Cedric brought a double axe-handle strike down at Becky’s head, but without even looking up she raised her left arm, and his blow bounced helplessly off her engorged, horseshoe-shaped tricep. Then, with blinding speed, she planted her left hand on his solar plexus and pushed him into the air, across the floor and nearly out of the circle. From her right side Mike fired a succession of kicks into her ribs and stomach. Becky turned to him and smiled as kick after kick landed without effect on her shredded midsection. Then she caught Mike’s ankle in her right hand and twisted, dropping him to the ground. “Please let go,” he cried. “You’re breaking my leg. Oh God please let go!”

“You mean ‘oh goddess’,” Becky said with a smirk, releasing his ankle. “You were the one who was going to bury is face in my bweasts, right?” she asked, holding Mike’s head tight between her hands.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “Please don’t kill me.”

“I told you I’m a benevolent goddess,” Becky giggled. “So I’m going to give you what you want.”

Becky smiled as she began to flex her massive, inches-thick pectoral muscles, making striations bloom on her paper-thin skin as the muscles of her chest rolled like an ocean of female power. My masturbation reached a furious climax, and as Becky slammed Mike’s head into the enormous mass of her pectorals, I came, rocking violently on the catwalk. “I’m sorry,” Mike stammered again.

“I’ll bet you thought my chest would be soft,” Becky said as she slammed Mike’s head into her muscle-packed chest again and again. “But my muscles are harder than rocks. Harder than steel. Harder than anything.”

When Becky finally let Mike fall to the ground, his nose was bent, his eyes were blackened, and his face was covered in blood. The girls were ecstatic, crowding around the circle as Becky used Mike’s discarded t-shirt to wipe the blood from her rippling pectorals while she stalked toward Cedric, who was only now pulling himself up to his hands and knees. A look of fear flashed across his face as he saw her massive calves and teardrop-shaped vastus muscles moving toward him. He looked up at Becky as she stopped a few inches away from him, hand on hips, her overdeveloped bosom thrust outward, riding high on the slabs of pectoral muscle that had just battered Mike Vincent’s face into a pulp. With a whimper, Cedric fell to the floor and crawled to Becky’s feet, planting a kiss on her tiny, red-painted toes. The girls cheered and jumped for joy as Becky raised her arms over her head. “All hail the Queen of the Jungle!” Stephanie Lunderman cried, and the girls flooded the ring.

The boys slouched out of the multipurpose building as the girls exulted. Becky struck one bodybuilding pose after another, and the girls fought to touch her incredible body, running their hands along her tightly muscled abs and trying in vain to pull her mighty arms out of position.

By the time I got home, Sean was already asleep. I tossed and turned for hours trying to clear my mind. I had just seen three residents get beaten up—two of them seriously hurt—and all I felt was excitement. And lust.

When I finally got to sleep, I was back in my Muscle Beach dream. I was on a beach towel, watching Becky wrap a thick length of rope around one of her beefy, vein-streaked forearms. She was preparing for a tug-of-war, and at the other end of the rope were three huge men. The men were all weightlifters that I had ogled earlier. But that was before I saw Becky. Now Becky was all I could think about, and I couldn’t even remember why I lusted after them—or any other men, for that matter. But they still looked big. “Can you really beat them all?” I asked.

“Of course,” Becky said with a shrug of her massive shoulders. “I dominate everything.”

“But there are three of them,” I said.

“Maybe you should kiss my muscles for good luck,” Becky said, her red lips sparkling in the sun.

My pussy trembled with excitement as I bent down and planted a kiss on one Becky’s biceps, reveling in its huge, hard, swelling mass. We both giggled as I kissed it again and again, working my way up to her triple-headed delts and her swollen traps until I could smell lemon verbena in her hair. I wanted to kiss her neck and her lips, and nibble on her ears, wanted it so much that my lips were trembling and puckering against my will.

Then a whistle blew, and the tug-of-war began. The three men on the other end of the rope pulled explosively in unison, their hulking bodies erupting with power. Becky adjusted her stance instantly, kicking up tiny clouds of sand as she set her feet. I stared in awe as Becky’s body hardened, a tremor of muscular power running from her calves up to her abs, as one by one the gigantic muscles of her tiny body contracted, popping into definition. From her slim ankles up to her young cherubic face, she was pure muscle. Every inch of her chiseled to perfection. My nipples were so hard that they hurt.

But as hot her muscularity made me, her strength moved me even more. As an eleven year old girl, she was holding her own in a contest of brute strength against three fully-grown male weightlifters. The men grimaced and strained and leaned against the rope, but Becky remained calm. A playful smirk spread across her face and she took one hand away from the rope, and adjusted her swimsuit. Becky Finklestein was now matching three of the biggest guys on Muscle Beach with one arm. She tossed her hair over her shoulders and blew a big pink bubble, seemingly indifferent to the trio of weightlifters struggling against her. Then, with her free hand, Becky slid her sunglasses down over her nose exposing her sparkling green eyes, and winked at me. Then, without the slightest sign of strain, Becky torqued her mighty body and jerked on the rope, sending the three men flying. The women cheered, and my pussy burned with lust.

On Thursday morning, Rosita was on the phone with the local hospital, and I could tell that she was talking about Jake and Mike, the two boys that Becky had mauled the night before. I grabbed LaToya and we headed to the multipurpose building. “Let’s focus on the mess in here, and I’ll fill you in later,” I said as we opened the doors.

We gasped as we entered the building. Several boys were down on their hands and knees, scrubbing the dried bloodstain from the floor. Standing over them, her hands on her hips and blowing bubbles, was Becky Finklestein. With glasses on, in a baggy sweatsuit she looked like a chubby nerd girl, but she radiated an unmistakable authority over the kneeling boys. “What’s going on here?” I asked.

“This place was dirty, so the boys agweed to clean it up, right boys?” Becky asked.

“Yes Princess Becky, Queen of the Universe,” they said meekly in unison.

It was hard not to smile at how easily Becky had brought the boys to submission with her overpowering strength. It made me feel good to see males taking orders from a female, although part of me was ashamed to admit that. What was more the boys were doing a decent job cleaning. There were still some pink stains on the floor from where Becky had brutalized Jake, Mike, and Cedric, but the rest of the building was cleaner than it had ever been. LaToya and I shrugged and went back to the office.

I had finished most of the grant paperwork for the next semester when I heard crying. Cynthia was in tears, being consoled by LaToya. Cynthia was a delicately beautiful girl with pale skin, black hair, big black eyes, and a light frame. She was just the right combination of pretty and shy to draw unwanted attention from boys. “Johnny Jennings was kissing me even though I told him to stop and then he tried to grab my boobs,” she said.

“I’ll handle this,” I told LaToya. “Where is Johnny now?” I asked Cynthia.

“He’s in the boys’ dorm, and he’s about to get his butt kicked,” Cynthia said, smiling through her tears. “Because I told Becky on him.”

Part of me was angry that Cynthia viewed Becky as an authority figure, but a bigger part of me was afraid of what Becky might do to Johnny. Johnny Jennings was a rotten kid, but he was about half the size of the boys that Becky had manhandled the night before. I looked out the window and saw Becky stomping toward the boys’ dorm, a scowl on her face. I walked quickly to the rear door of the office, trying not to appear hurried. I increased my pace once I got outside and saw the front door to the boys’ dorm close behind Becky. I was halfway to the boys’ dorm when Johnny Jennings crashed through the dorm’s back door and rolled several feet across the lawn. Heads began to poke out of doors, and I saw Doctor Li running toward Johnny. I went directly to the dorm. Boys were huddled in fear against the walls of the common room and in the middle, smirking, stood Becky Finklestein. Ten feet behind her was the empty doorframe that Johnny had burst out of, and the wind that blew through it tussled her pigtails as I approached her. “What happened here,” I demanded.