Girly Muscles (Short Story) (Patreon)

Girly Muscles

Written By: SteeleBlazer

Bet you wish you had girly muscles as big and as hard as mine. All the boys do, cos my rock-hard girly muscles are so much bigger and harder than those weak and pathetic manly muscles of yours. So I know a lot of you are wondering just how did a girl like me get these great big girly guns of mine.

Well, it’s simple… Hard work… Tons and tons of hard work in the weight room and lifting even more tons and tons of hard heavy weights. It takes hard work to build a hardbody… Oh, yeah… And just one more thing. The weights you lift, they need to be GIRLY weights!

And I know all you boys out there really just have so many more questions. Like why are her girly muscles so much bigger than mine? Or like why can’t I get big girly muscles like hers… Well, you can’t because you’d need to lift the great big girly weights. And you boys are just too weak to lift girly weights. And girly weights, just like girly muscles are just for us girls.

Sorry, not sorry!

Don’t believe me; well I don’t know what proof I could provide ya, besides me flexing these big bad biceps of mine, which are almost the size of a pair of basketballs. Ugh! See, check these big bad girls… I just ripped out of my sleeves… Which kind of happens a lot.

And if you still don’t believe me, maybe hearing my story will change your mind, and convince you that nothing is stronger than girly muscles.

Alright, let me take you through my story – the story of how my girly muscles became the talk of my school and, more importantly, a symbol of strength for all the girls around me. It's a story of transformation, not just of my body, but of attitudes, perspectives, and what it means to be strong.

But, it’s mostly about me transforming my body into a brick shithouse!

I was just another girl for the boys to look over and lust over. They always like to think that us girls and our bodies are only good for one thing… And we all know what that one thing is. They never thought that us girls could be strong, let alone stronger than them. As they like to think that their burgeoning strength and their tiny little boyish biceps rule the school. They’d walk around in their tight shirts with their tight sleeves, or sometimes no sleeves, strutting about like little peacocks puffing out their chests and flexing their arms as if it was their feathery plumage.

In the weight room they were even more unbearable. First they viewed the whole place as some he-man woman hater’s boy club. And they thought that girls like me should only use the treadmills or the stair climbers and stay away from all the big, heavy weights. While they’d walk about like cocky little roosters and they’d try to impress us girls with how much weight they lift, press, or curl. But, really such displays never impressed me, not when the weights they were using were so pathetically tiny. Tiny just like their muscles.

But, while they never impressed me, they sure did impress themselves. They'd flex and pose, and brag about how much they could lift to anyone and everyone within earshot. And any guy who couldn't lift as much as those clucking cocky little cocks would get taunted for having 'girly' muscles. That word, 'girly', they spat it out like it was something weak, something laughable. Something less than.

Well, I have news for all you childish little boys out there. You think you’re big strong men, but you’re all just weak little boys. Besides you can’t even spell 'MEN' without us bigger 'WOMEN'! That’s right if anyone is less than, it’s not us women, but you men.

And I was just fed up and sick of it all. I mean they’re all just a bunch of dumbbells bragging about how heavy those tiny little dumbbells they’re lifting are. So, if those dumb dumbbells can lift those tiny little weights, I thought to myself, I could do so too. Only I could do better and lift heavier weights. And I’d show those stupid dumbbells what girly muscles look like and what they’re capable of.

And so, tired of all the mockery, tired of the way 'girly' was used as an insult, I decided to do something about it. I started hitting the weights. Good thing my Dad had a small weight set at my home that he all but just forgotten about. At first, it was just about proving them wrong, but soon, it became my passion. It was amazing, watching my body change, feeling my strength grow. Those first few months… They were tough, but every time I saw a new muscle forming, I knew I was onto something special.

Heck, it wasn’t long before I had to buy more weights for my tiny little weight set, because my muscles had gotten too big for it to be of any real challenge. And so I thought to myself, if this was my Dad’s weight set… Then does that mean I’m now stronger than him… And if I’m stronger than him, does that mean I’m stronger than all the boys at my school? Maybe not all of them I’d thought to myself as I curled my newly purchased 30-pound dumbbells, but certainly a lot of them. And as I watched that bicep of mine swelling up and the cute little vein throbbing and pulsing, that thought and the thought that I was only getting bigger and stronger made me smile.

I loved watching my body grow and getting stronger. I wouldn’t just look at myself in the mirror while working out, but I’d spend all kinds of time in the bathroom looking at my muscles. Posing them, flexing them. Admiring them for how big they were, but always thinking, and wishing, and imagining them getting bigger and bigger and harder and firmer. And the best thing of all, they did get bigger. Day by day, millimeter by millimeter they grew thicker, and harder, and firmer, and best of all bigger and stronger!

So, how did I know when I was ready to show all the boys just what real girly muscles looks like. Two things… It’s when my home weight set once again became too small for my big burgeoning girly muscles, and when even my sweats were getting way too tight on me. I figured I couldn’t hide my muscular gains much longer. I also figured why should I?!

And by this time I was really sick of hearing all the boys in the weight room boasting about their gains and how much weight they’ve put on, and how much weight they’ve added to their bench, or how much they’re now curling. To think one of the boys was bragging about being able to curl 20-pounds, when by this time I was using 40-pound dumbbells myself.

But, the real game-changer was when my muscles had gotten so big, that I doubted even the biggest strongest boys at my school were as muscular as me.

My arms, my legs, my shoulders – they weren't just big or strong for a girl. They were big and strong PERIOD! And not just regular big or strong – I'm talking about the kind of big and strong that made the boys in the gym class take a step back and reevaluate their whole life choices.

But, also reevaluate what they thought about girly muscles. Because after seeing mine, in all their gorgeously engorged muscular definition and glory, they’d now have a brand new definition on the true meaning of girly muscles.

I remember the day I walked into that weight room, wearing just a pair of short shorts and a skintight tank top, my muscles were bulging and rippling and bursting and brimming with power with each and every step I took. I remember walking into that gym and the guys who used to mock me and all the other girls at the school just stopped and stared. Their faces? Priceless.  Their jaws dropped to the floor along with some of the weights they were lifting.

But, it gets better… It gets so much better. I walked over to where the strongest boy in the weight room was curling, and I grabbed a pair of dumbbells way bigger than the ones he was using and proceeded to blast out a whole set of bicep curls. Blasting my biceps making them bulge and swell up even bigger and bigger.

But, wait… It gets better still… I saw a group of boys at the bench. They were mostly conversing and joking and not really lifting… So, I just sauntered over to them, and asked them if I could cut in. I didn’t wait for an answer. I just casually strong armed one of the boys out of my way with my strong arm, and then I lowered myself onto the bench, and once again I proceeded to blast out a whole lot of reps on that bench. And I really mean a whole lot, as the weight on that bar was so light I lifted it thirty whole times before I asked the boys if they could do me a favor and add more weight to the bar. A whole lot more!

They just looked at me dumbly in shock. Shock that I was bigger, shock that I was stronger than them. And shock that I needed more weight. Eventually they put on a plate on both sides, but I just giggled and told them to add one more.

“No way,” they said. Then they told me, “You can’t lift that much.”

I just grinned and said to them, “Put it on and watch me!”

And so they did, and so they did!

Now, I won’t lie that amount of weight on the bar, was an awful lot. It had 3 full plates on each side and each of them weighed 45-pounds. It was a hard lift, but you don’t become a hardbody with big strong girly muscles by lifting light weights. And I wanted to prove and show to the boys that they were the lightweights and that I ruled the weight room. So, I lifted that weight off the bench and I brought it down to my chest, and I lifted it back up, and I did this ten total times. Which was a personal best for me. I guess showing off my girly muscles in front of all the boys really motivated and brought out the best in me.

I wish I could say it brought out the best in the boys, but it really didn’t. Instead they were determined to try to show me how strong they were. By lifting weights that they were physically incapable of lifting. Talk about a bunch of lightweights…

They were such dumbbells that they’d grab dumbbells way heavier than what they could handle and swing and flail them about. I’d say it was funny seeing a dumbbell lifting a dumbbell, but they weren’t really lifting the weight, just swinging it. And so I had to wonder which dumbbell was smarter.

They’d flop about on the bench like a fish out of water struggling to bench even half of what I just benched prior. I didn’t see a single boy even near the squat rack or even leg press. It seems these boys never heard of leg day, and looking at their skinny legs I had all the visual proof I needed to confirm my suspicion.

And I just loved going from one group of boys to another, grabbing not just a set of heavier weights than what they were using, but proceeding to lift said heavier weights for more reps than what they were even lifting their lighter sets with. Way, way more reps.

There I was, a girl, outlifting them, outperforming and outmuscling them, and I just loved it. My biceps never looked bigger as they were bulging out like I’ve never, ever seen them. The veins on my arms popping out and pulsing with such power were nothing short of intimidating to all those weak little boys. While the boys were avoiding the squat rack, I made sure to load up a bar with lots of plates on it. That way I could show off my thick sculpted legs. Legs that were bigger than all the boy’s. Heck just my muscular calves were bigger than practically all their thighs. My 'girly' muscles were anything but weak. They were a powerhouse and I just proved it to a room full of jocks.

But, again these boys were more jokes than jocks. They used to joke about girly muscles being smaller and weaker… But, I just proved otherwise, and so now the joke was on them. Because, if Girly Muscles were bigger and stronger than macho manly muscles, what does that make their weak and tiny and pathetic little boy muscles?

The boys, oh man, the boys. They went from being these cocky, smug dudes to just standing there, mouths agape. They couldn't fathom how a girl – and let me emphasize this, a girl – was stronger than them.

And after I finished my workout, my muscles shimmering and shining from all the sweet sweat and swelling from the strain of it all, I just strutted on out of that weight room and left the boys staring in shock and dismay. Because they all realized that me and my girly muscles were superior, and them with their weak boy muscles were inferior. I went to the locker room and I had to peel myself out from my wet sticky clothes and I took a hot, relaxing shower.

The water felt so good on my sore muscles. And I felt all my insecurities, all my doubts, all my frustrations and fear wash away. And as I scrubbed and felt my hardened girly muscles I knew I had changed myself into something to be proud of. But, I also knew I could make an even greater change.

You see in the days that followed, all the boys decided they couldn’t bare being weaker than me. They just couldn’t bare being weaker than a girl and having that girl’s girly muscles dwarf their own. So, they started asking me for tips, for my 'secret'. As if there really was some great big secret on how to get great big muscles. I mean you either put in the hard work for the hardbody or you don’t get it. And sadly the boys were more about boasts and bragging than about hard work. Still, it was hilarious and satisfying, seeing them swallow their pride and come to me for advice. I loved seeing them eat their words.

They’d ask me for help and tips.

And I’d just say to them, “Sorry, but not sorry!” and shake my head no at them.

But, they would persist and keep on asking me, and begging me to share my secrets with them.

And I’d ask them, “If they wanted big strong girly muscles like mine?” and then I’d flex and show off my great big bad girls.

And the boys would gulp, and they’d hem and haw… And finally they’d just ask me, “Couldn’t they just have bigger muscles and not just girly muscles.”

And I’d laugh and tell them, “NO! You can’t have muscles like mine if you’re not a girl and sadly they’re just weak boys and there’s nothing I could do.”

Only that was a bit of a lie, because really there wasn’t nothing I could do. There was something I could do.

But you know what I did?

Do you know who I shared my secret of how to get big, strong, hard, powerful girly muscles with?

I didn't share my secret with the boys… Nope. I decided to share it with all the girls at school. I started organizing these workout sessions after school. It wasn't just about lifting weights; it was about lifting each other up, you know? About proving that strength has nothing to do with gender.

Well, I guess it was proving that strength had something to do with gender. As we all wanted to prove that girly muscles were the biggest, strongest, hardest, best-est muscles of all!

And soon it wasn’t long before not just me and my girly muscles were bigger than any boy's at school, but almost each and every girl at the school had bigger muscles than all the boys as well. Of course none of the other girls had muscles as big or as strong as mine. I love that I shared my secret with the other girls, and I know they love it too. Because if they’re anything like me they love being strong.

And I loved seeing them all growing bigger and more muscular day by day. Their muscles growing bigger, as the weights they lifted became bigger as well. And week by week as they kept on growing heavier and heavier, so too did the weights keep on growing heavier and heavier, until like me the girls with their rock-hard girly muscles were outlifting all the boys in the gym. I just loved watching all the girls grow, and seeing the growing fear in all the boys’ eyes when they realized we were getting bigger and stronger than them.

And I know all the girls just loved doing it too. Being strong feels so good, it’s no wonder the boys hate being weaker than us. I can only imagine what it would feel like to be that weak… Actually, no I can’t because me and my girly muscles are just that strong!

And I really do just love being so freaking strong. I love my great big gargantuan girly muscles. Words cannot begin to describe just how much I love to just flex ‘em proudly in the mirror. And watching how my biceps bulge, straining against my sleeve as I pose and pump them up over and over again. Watching my girly guns bulging bigger and bigger with squeeze after squeeze.

“SHRRRIIIP!”

Oops, ripped another one of my sleeves. Guess I’ll just have to flex my other arm and “SHRRRIIIP!” now I have matching sleeves. I just love going to school and walking the hallways with ripped sleeves with my girly guns on full display. It’s my favorite way of showing off my girly muscles.

It really, really, really intimidates all the little boys, and all the so called macho jocks.

Which is kind of funny, because they’ve tried so many times to intimidate and strong arm me and all the other girls out of the weight room. But, they always forget the most important thing about strong arming someone, you’ve got to actually be stronger than them. And thanks to my girly muscles none of the boys are able to strong arm me.

Why, I remember one of the first times one of the jerky jocks tried to show how macho he was, and tried to tell me I couldn’t use any of the weights in the weight room because I was a girl and it was forbidden. I couldn’t believe the gull, he was being a real dumbbell for telling me I couldn’t use any of the dumbbells in the gym.

So, I decided if I couldn’t lift any of those dumbbells I’d use him as one, and I grabbed him with my hands and lifted him up and shoulder pressed him. Over and over and over again and again! He was begging me to stop lifting him, but I just told him to shut his mouth and to count off my reps.

“One, two, three,” he counted off.

Only I wasn’t done lifting him, and so he counted off, “Four, five, six!”

Still I wasn’t done lifting him and proving my point, “Seven, eight, nine, ten,” he stammered out full of disbelief that I was still going.

But, despite him being a real dumbbell, he actually was much lighter than the ones I normally use, and so I kept on pressing him up and down over my head, and he kept on counting.

When he got to twenty I put him down, and I said to him, “Thanks for the warmup.” And I gave him a nice little wink and a great big flex to show off my girly muscles. I also said to him, “To stick around as I wanted to do another couple of sets.”

You should have seen him- his face was priceless. Just like you should have seen him turn tail and leave the gym, and to this day he still hasn’t set foot back inside it.

Was I too mean with him?

Sorry, not sorry!

And day by day and week by week more and more boys followed him right out the door never to return to the weight room. Which suited both me and all the other girls just fine, as day by day and week by week we not only kept getting bigger and stronger, but more and more girls kept joining us in the weight room. Our girly grunts and the clanking of our big heavy girly weights were drowning out the sounds of the boys’ own wimpy workouts, and the sounds of our progress and triumph only kept growing louder and louder, easily drowning out all the boys’ cries and screams of frustration. And it seemed like whatever strong-arm tactic the boys would try to keep us girls from working out and using the weight room would backfire on them.

Like how they used to love to use the mirrors to check out their bodies and admire their weak and tiny little muscles. Well, I really loved sneaking up behind them when they did so and flexing my own arms alongside theirs, that way they can see what real muscles look like. And how did their bad boys compare to my big bad girls… There was no comparison, my girly guns were like straight up bazookas next to their tiny little peashooters they called guns.

In that mirror they’d see how my girly muscles dwarfed and eclipsed their own muscles, and they’d be so embarrassed. What’s great is, since it was in a mirror I could see their reactions and how their eyes would bug out in disbelief, right down to the crimson shade their face would flush out of pure morbid embarrassment. And how they’d scurry away from me quickly, running away never to be seen again in the weight room. I’d laugh and it wasn’t just my laughter that followed and chased out all those vapid silly little boys, but all the other girls’ laughter in the gym joined in with mine. And sometimes I think that whenever those boys ever thought to flex again, they’d hear that laughter echoing in their heads, giving them second thoughts on showing off their masculine strength and pride.

And do you all remember how the boys used to mock and tease each other? How they’d tell the weaker ones among them that they had girly muscles…

Well, now it was us girl’s turn to mock the boys. And we did so by just taunting them and saying to them, “Bet you boys wish you had girly muscles like these, don’t ya?”

Of course we’d generally flex when we said such things. And we knew by how puny their muscles looked next to ours, that they truly did wish they had girly muscles like ours. And so we’d just strut about the weight room wearing our skintight workout clothes, with our gorgeous gargantuan girly muscles bulging and rippling, intimidating all the little boys still left in the room.

These were the hardcore jocks, and despite being hardcore and dedicated to their sports, they weren’t as dedicated to the weight room as we were. And their hardcore jock muscles still paled before our rock-hard hardbodies.

Let me tell you something about girly muscles. They're not just muscles. They're a statement. A statement that says, “I'm here, I'm strong, and I'm not going anywhere.”

But, the boys sure did. Little by little we elbowed them out, and we kept on squeezing and pushing them out with our girly muscles and our superior shows of strength. Yes, it turns out us girls strong-armed all the boys at our school and shoved them out of the weight room with our great big girly muscles. You could say we muscled them out of the weight room… Literally!

Sorry, not sorry boys!

… And I guess figuratively too… But, that’s just thanks to all the girl’s newly forged hardbody figures intimidating the boys.

And no we didn’t just take over the weight room but the entire school with our girly muscles. We had the strength, we had the power, and we had the muscle to do it. And it was too easy… If you asked me which was harder building up our gorgeously engorged girly muscles… or taking over the school, I’d say it was harder to build up these hardbodies of ours. But, oh so much worth it. For look at all that we gained with our gains.

Not just newfound confidence and self-respect, but the respect and admiration of all the boys. That doesn’t mean that they’re not still jealous of us girls and our girly muscles. That doesn’t mean they still don’t ogle us with their eyes as we strut through the hallways. It just means that if they’re not paying attention they might get bumped by our broad wide shoulders as we pass by and they’ll wind up on their backsides. But, they’ll still keep on appreciating the view as we pass by, because thanks to our girly muscles we look good from each and every angle, coming and going.

Yeah, the boys respect us now, but they sure do love to watch us strut. But, they really do especially love our enormous muscular butts!

And we always tease the boys by telling them, “Bigger is always better,” and that, “Size does matter,” all remarks of course accompanied by and punctuated with as much gratuitous flexing of our great big girly muscles.

They desire our bodies in more ways than one. Even though one of those ways they think a lot more about than the other… But, also the more they think about how they wish they had these strong, strapping girly muscles of ours, well it makes them feel so very and totally emasculated just thinking about it.

But, the humiliation and emasculation of all the boys didn’t end there. You see with the entirety of the schools female body, growing great big and strong girly muscles on their actual bodies, we didn’t just outmuscle the boys and kick ‘em out of the weight room. We outmuscled them every which way and everywhere we could. We took over all the sports. Including football!

Thanks to these steely muscular physiques of ours, we were able to take over and dominate them on the gridiron. Once again we strong-armed the boys as we pushed them aside on the football field, and bulldozed them with our brutal beauty and gorgeous girly muscles. I believe the actual term is stiff-arm… But, that just sounds gross to me; I wouldn’t want to give any of the boys a stiff-anything. But, you better believe I bowled over them and tossed them aside like they were just like… Well… Bowling pins!

But no I just can’t say it and tell you all, that I gave those boys stiff-arm, after stiff-arm on my way to score many, many, many times…

YUCK! Gag me with a spoon that sounds so dirty. Almost as dirty as the boys were after the game covered with all the muck, dirt, and grass from being pulverized and pounded into the turf by our powerhouse physiques and crushing tackles.

Even though I know with all the hits, and blitzes, and all the hardbody tackles we gave to the boys, we probably made a few of them stiff, and left them black and blue… Along with something else that was most likely left blue.

But, then again I do like bustin’ the boys’ balls. And to celebrate our victory on the football field. I took one of the game balls and placed it between my forearm and bicep. And I gave my arm a big hard squeeze and I popped the football. And bits of the leather pigskin flew through the air like confetti celebrating our win. It was all just too easy and the boys never knew what hit them… Except they actually totally did know what hit them, it was us girly juggernauts with our great big gargantuan girly muscles that laid them out, and sacked them. Sacked ‘em on the field and sacked ‘em off the team.

Sorry, not sorry!

The hits just kept piling up for the boys, not just on the football field but off it. Because, while we took over the football team, we realized what good is a football team without cheerleaders. And since most of our cheerleader girls traded in their pom poms for shoulder pads, we decided that the ex-football team players should become our new cheerleaders.

And guess what, they totally make better cheerleaders. They’re just so cute in their pleated mini-skirts and shaved legs. I just love watching them walk down the hallways, shaking those cute little moneymakers of theirs. But, it’s really on the field where they shine and look their best, it’s so much fun watching them prance and dance on the sidelines and hearing all those boys chant and cheer and scream their little lungs out.

“Girly strong, all day long,

Our girls' muscles are never wrong!

On the field, they belong,

With every cheer, we sing this song!”

It’s just so wild hearing those boys cheering for us girls and praising our girly muscles.

"Strong and sweet, never beat,

Our girls' muscles are a treat!

On the field, they're elite,

Their girly strength is hard to beat!"

To think first our big girly muscles scared and intimidated them, and now they’ve grown to love them. And sing and make cheers about them!

"Girly muscle fantasy,

Stronger than us, a sight to see!

If only our muscles could be,

Like girls', strong and free!"

I could listen to them cheering us on all day, and it really fills me with a sense of power that makes me all tingly inside. It makes me feel like an even bigger and stronger girl than what I already am.

"We boys wish for muscles, girly and strong,

Stronger than ours, never wrong!

Which is why we now cheer and wear thongs,

For girly muscles, o’ so strong!"

Yes, yes, yes! Keep on cheering us on boys and keep practicing those high kicks!

Sorry, but not sorry… I guess I got a little excited thinking about all those fun peppy cheers.

You’d think there’d be hard feelings, but no the boys took to cheerleading right away. I think it’s because they know how it’s every hunky football stud’s dream to date a cheerleader. And with us girls now the hunky football studs, it was quite the competition to make the cheerleading team. And nothing powers up us girls on the sidelines more than hearing all those boys cheer and chant about us girls and our girly muscles!

The ex-jocks weren’t the only boys who adopted skirts since being outmuscled and muscled out of the weight room, and us girls and our girly muscles having taken over and ruling the school as the muscle queens we were always destined to be. It’s actually quite chic and popular for all the boys to wear skirts, and you better believe us girls haven’t given up or abandoned our skirts either. What better way to show off our gorgeously engorged gams than by wearing a sleek mini skirt.

So the question becomes, how can you tell which pair of taut silky smooth hairless gams belong to either a girl or a boy?

Simple, the skinnier legs are the boys. While the legs with the big burnished bulging calves belong to us girls. It’s a simple fact that if you want girly muscles, then you can never, ever, ever skip leg day. However, on occasion you might come across a boy with a nice sleek shapely pair of girly legs. Leg’s that any girl could be proud of and would just totally die for.

And when I see a boy sporting such a pair of drop dead gorgeous legs, what do I do?

Why, I give the boy a nice sharp wolf whistle of approval. And if they’re really lucky, I’ll give that cute little backside of theirs a nice firm hard slap!

They love it when I do that, and I just love the way they squeal and the fleshy sound of my hand smacking their cute tushies. Also, it’s just so adorable watching them rubbing their booties after I give them a nice hard spanking. But, do you want to know what I really love to do. I love to give those boys the ultimate compliment.

I like to tell them they’ve got a nice pair of 'Girly Legs'!

And you should just see how they blush when I say that to them. And then they generally scamper off and giggle and tell all their friends that they’ve got “Girly Legs!”

But, still nice legs aside, the boys can never truly measure up to us girls and our great big girly muscles. But, it never hurts to give a cute little boy a compliment. Especially since now they’re the ones complimenting us girls on our great big gorgeous gargantuan girly muscles. They really do love to fawn over our muscles. And I’ve heard boys whisper and debate which girls have the biggest muscles.

To think they used to just talk about our boobs. I mean don’t get me wrong, they still talk about our boobs, only now they’re also talking about our rock hard pecs, our biceps, our quads, and our abs. And it’s also not just comparing and contrasting our physical characteristics, but they like to talk and discuss and debate about our strength.

And it is really quite flattering when I hear such whispered debates about which girl is the strongest, who has the biggest bench, who can deadlift more, and who has the best squat, and which girl can curl more. But, do you want to know what really is the most flattering about it all. Most of the boys always whisper my name as the girl who can squat, curl, deadlift, or bench the most.

Sorry girls, not sorry!

But, girls all the boys know that my girly muscles are the biggest and strongest and sexiest of all. But, I know they’re coming in strong behind me. And day by day we’re all getting bigger, stronger and harder as we’re ushering in the age of the Glamazon.

That’s short for Glamorous Amazon!

And it’s all thanks to our girly muscles giving us the strength to outmuscle and take over our schools weight room. It’s our iron pumping, bodybuilding, weightlifting shrine and sanctuary. Where all us girls can build up our beefcake bodies and grow our girly muscles big and hard and become muscle goddesses. It went from a boys club to a place just for us girls. But, we do let a few boys still hang around… As towel boys… And maybe from time to time you can find some of the cute male cheerleaders using the treadmills or stair climbers… They do have to maintain their boyish figures.

It’s just that by now they have learned that they are the weaker sex. And that not even macho manly muscles are a match for girly muscles. It’s the strongest muscles there are. Don’t believe me. Well, I have a feeling you will soon. As more and more girls are going to take up weightlifting and bodybuilding. It’s going to be a growing fad for girls to grow great big girly muscles.

They’re the new fashion chic and girly muscles go with every outfit. When you’ve got a pair of girly guns like mine, you’ll find they pair nicely with any outfit. Even if I do wind up accidentally flexing, and bursting out of the sleeves. That only makes the outfits hotter. And I think torn tattered sleeves showing off girly guns are chic too!

So remember boys, before you mock and tease your friends, and try to belittle them by telling them they’ve got girly muscles. Just remember that girly muscles are bigger, and harder, and stronger than your weak manly muscles. And that girly muscles will only and always belittle you!

Sorry, not sorry!