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Muscle For The Mob

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Muscle For The Mob

Written & edited by Amnoartist

Chapter 1: Money Bags


“Where’s the money, chump?”

The punch came fast and hard, rocking the chair so violently Andrew’s neck jerked, pulling him backward. He’d been punched countless times before throughout his life, but not like this. He spat blood, felt a loosened tooth wobble and rub against his gums. He’d made a pact with himself not to tell them where the money was. As far as Andrew was concerned, he’d more than deserved to keep it for himself after all the shit he done for the mob. But clearly they didn’t care.

Vako smiled sadistically, flashing his grilled teeth - what was left of them, anyway. Like Andrew Vako had been in a few fights, but had less molars to show off from all the blows landed to his jawbone. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t a particularly good fighter. Rather, he had a knack for picking fights with people bigger than him. Vako was insistent about the matter at hand, however, making a point to flash his gun, not a smudge on it. He seemed to take better care of his gun than his teeth.

“Fuck you, I deserved that money.” Andrew wasn’t exactly in the position to be making threats like that, but he didn’t care. If he was going to die - which certainly looked to happen pretty soon - it would be on his terms. On the other hand, Vako couldn’t risk killing Andrew knowing it would be impossible to find the money without him. He was crafty like that, always hiding shit in the most unlikely of places. That’s what made Andrew a good asset for the mob. “Fuck knows what you’d do with it anyway. Probably blow it all on whores and shit. You’re not exactly the smartest guy, Vako.”

Vako pistol-whipped Andrew, a blunt whack to the temple so hard his vision blurred and hearing distorted long enough for the mobster’s next verbal threat to go unrecognised as he moved away. The Russian hastily removed the magazine clip from his pistol for a quick ammo check. Fifteen rounds - more than enough to put an end to Andrew, with a few more just for fun. Maybe a round or two into the bastard’s kneecaps would get him talking. That or mention his darling sweet girlfriend. They always get talking then.

But it wasn’t a bullet popping into his knees that took Andrew by surprise. Rather, the crook of an arm wrapping itself around his neck from behind, slowly but surely crushing his windpipe. He might’ve struggled, but Andrew was still able to see the bicep bulging underneath the fabric of a jet black jumpsuit, not to mention the perfectly manicured feminine hands.

“It would be a good idea to play along, Andrew.” His assailant was no older than twenty, but clearly had some level of experience in the world of fitness - whatever good that would do her in the mob ring - with flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing even just slightly at Andrew as he struggled; she liked that about them. “You wouldn’t want to get on my bad side, babe.”

“Faith here is one of a kind.” Vako observed her keeping Andrew’s neck locked in place. If she had to, just one quick jerk and he’d be a goner. Their professional relationship aside, Vako and Faith were, in a sense, a couple. “We found her in a unique monastery in the Chatyr-Tau, led by women who seem to like the idea of muscle on their bodies more than religion itself.”

Andrew had heard things about Faith—rumours mostly—but never actually took them seriously enough to think she might actually be a real person. Only comic-book superheroes were strong enough to lift tanks. But in the real world—well, Faith just might be the equivalent to a super-villain.

She released her grip on Andrew, finally letting him catch his breath before he turned bluer than he already was. Struggling to catch his breath, he clawed at his throat whilst Faith positioned herself in front of him, placing her massive right leg on the chair he was tied to, her heeled foot between his legs just below his crotch. It went without saying the blonde had done this before - torturing her “victims” sexually enough that they’d give up their deepest, darkest secrets in exchange for “freedom.”

“C’mon, big guy, where’s the money? Tell me where it is and—” Faith reached for the zipper on the front of her jumpsuit and started to, rather slowly and in a sensual manner, undo it, ever so slightly revealing the chest muscles underneath. Andrew knew women could develop muscles just as men could, but hers were beyond comprehension; striations layered atop one another, pumping blood and gently heaving the underlying thick straps of she-meat as she breathed seductively. “—we could maybe have a moment to ourselves afterwards. Whatcha say?”

Vako must’ve known Andrew liked muscular women. Sure, he never explicitly revealed it, but the biggest mistake made just might’ve been that he talked about them often enough for Vako to connect the dots. In other words, Andrew baited himself into the current situation. That wasn’t to say he didn’t like normal women - he was in a lasting relationship with Kirsty, after all. Things would’ve been much better for their sexual relationship if she showed a little interest in working out. Considering he probably knew Andrew’s secret, Vako brought Faith as leverage against him.

Between looking at Faith teasingly flexing and Vako ransacking the house in search for the money, Andrew’s attention was sporadic. As long as Vako didn’t have the brains to tear the floorboards—

Faith had a gun of her own strapped to her hip, polished like Vako’s. With biceps big as beach balls, Andrew couldn’t quite wrap his around why the beastly blonde even had a sidearm at all. Just from the sight of her alone, one could tell she was a living weapon.

Vako wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the box sometimes, but Faith— she followed Andrew’s gazes, smiling as her eyes met the floor, knowing exactly what was underneath. On most occasions a crowbar would best work to pry the floorboards free, but then Faith wasn’t there. Now that she was— well, she was just dying to show off.

Andrew watched her kneel, his eyes magnetically drawn to the powerful calf muscles yearning to burst free from her jumpsuit. Given the leathery strains and pulls, that just might be the case eventually. She drew her fist back and, before he could properly process the feat, drove it through the floor with such force that it didn’t just create a hole large enough to reveal the wads of cash underneath, but split the floor in all directions like an egg shell. There was no real floor left by the time Faith looked at her perfectly conditioned knuckles, as if she hadn’t punched it at all - just cracks that continued to spread until they met the skirting boards.

Faith reached in and pulled out wad after wad after wad of cash, each time Vako’s smile widened until his grills flashed in the moonlight. Andrew knew he was in deeper shit now. He’d hidden the money to use it for buying a proper house he and Kirsty could live in that would better help them start a family together. An apartment couldn’t do that, much less one that only had one bedroom. But the money wasn’t his - it belonged to the mob. The Russian mob at that.

“It’s all here. Two point five million in cold hard cash.” Faith couldn’t stop staring at the thigh-high mountain of green she’d effectively uncovered with her fist. It was as if all that money laid out in front was turning her on. Riches was a form of power. Faith loved power. She jabbed Vako in the chest with a finger, making a point. “Make sure I get my cut. Five hundred thousand.” She and Vako might’ve been lovers, but Faith was adamant to have a pile of money she could call her own.

“Yeah, yeah.” Vako turned back to Andrew and crouched in front of him, pistol at the ready. Andrew expected this to happen. Nikinov didn’t like loose ends, and there was always the possibility that, if he were able to escape, Andrew would call the cops. There was always the other option: cut off his hand for having stole in the first place. Let that be a reminder for him and his family in the future not to fuck with the mob. But Vako didn’t have a knife handy, much to Andrew’s relief. “Just let me finish up here.”

Vako cocked his pistol and pressed the barrel squarely on Andrew’s kneecap. He winced, knowing this just might be his last few moments alive. The thing about Vako was he didn’t give people an opportunity to plead for mercy. He was cold like that, a raw sadist.

He smiled at Andrew knowingly…

///

Hours Later…

Faith pulled her head back and let Vako’s dick out of her mouth, watching its thick and sloppy meatiness slap against his leg that was comparatively tiny next to the blonde’s. He just couldn’t believe she  had been working his dick for the better half of four hours, managing to prevent him from blowing his load. Whatever those women in that monastery did to her, it worked wonders for Faith, to say the least. She turned to face the mountain of cash she singlehandedly “acquired” from a bank heist. Nikinov was insistent that Faith have some backup in the event that shit hit the fan, but she knew it wasn’t necessary. During that bank job, much like with Andrew’s floor, she drew her fist back and blew a hole in the vault large enough for her to reach in and disconnect the lock from the inside.

She pulled her naked weight up and straddled Vako seductively, reaching for his ear to nibble on it. He tried to join on the eroticism, but the blonde’s weight put stress on his legs. Her added mass and weight definitely showed, sometimes. Vako reached for her steely ass and gave it a squeeze. She returned the favour by pulling her arms up into a double bicep pose. They far oversized his own, easily as thick as his thigh, casting a shadow over him as he grinned lewdly.

“You really are something. You know that, don’t you?” Vako’s eyes trailed the thick veins layered atop Faith’s arms, practically dying to touch them. But Faith only let him do things when she permitted him, always playing the dominant one in the couple.

“You’re goddamn right.” Faith’s lust took hold of her; she pulled Vako downward so his mouth met her erect nipple. He knew just from that what was being implied, sucking on it. Faith arched her head backwards in incomprehensible lust, long sweaty hair draped over her  door-wide back, pectorals flaring wildly to mimic the excitement felt from Vako’s eroticism. “Oh, daddy!”

Faith knew Vako loved being called Daddy; it was a sort of trigger that often sent his sex drive over the edge, particularly when it was said in that tone which oozed lust and passion.

Faith also loved the concept of dominance. Her being the larger and stronger of the couple only amplified that. She had this idea that sometime in the future, she and Vako would take over the mob from Nikinov. With Faith being as big as she was, and showing no signs of slowing down in that regard, there was no reason to think she couldn't expand her idea of a mob empire throughout the region. Nobody would ever get in her way of that - right?

///

Several Weeks Later…

Kirsty stared intently into the mirror, eye-fucking the chest muscles under her top she’d pumped so religiously that her skin had turned lobster red from all the stress and pressure her workout produced, striations visibly showing under the sweaty fabric. She couldn’t believe her body had gotten so large over the past few weeks, let alone knew she would stare at them so covetously like they were otherworldly, but her motivation spoke for itself.

It wasn’t easy for Andrew the first couple of weeks after Vako and Faith came, but he persisted and Kirsty made a vow to do whatever would be necessary to protect the couple and get some form of payback for what happened. Kirsty was far from the violent type, but she wanted to make sure the mob knew her stance, wanted Nikinov to know he made an enemy of her. Kirsty did take the matter up with the local police, but they turned her away. From that moment, it was pretty certain they were all bought off by the mob. But maybe—just maybe—they’d listen after she showed them her new, rather intimidating body.

Being bedridden from his injuries, Andrew didn’t even know what Kirsty spent nearly the past month doing. She was rather deliberately keeping it a secret from him. Of course, he’d be starstruck otherwise. But perhaps it was a good idea for Kirsty to not show him the results just yet. She still didn’t even know he liked muscular women, even if her transformation was tight-lipped, so the reveal would be doubly exciting. She would show him her transformed body as her means to protect them both, although not sure how Andrew would even take it - yet, he’d basically flip with excitement from the unexpected show.

She turned into a side chest pose and smiled at the rolling deltoids on display, reflecting energetically from the mirror. It was no surprise that the transformation turned the redhead on. Her nipples stood erect, poking violently through the top as if trying to pierce through it. She didn’t even know she had the genes to pack on beef so quickly, until the persistent intention to become the couple’s protective force took hold. Some would even argue the mass was packing on a bit too quick, but Kirsty didn’t care - and Andrew probably wouldn’t either.

“God, I’m so fucking jacked!” If it weren’t for the need to be Andrew’s protector, Kirsty probably would’ve been big enough to compete. The thought of doing so after confronting Nikinov did, in fact, cross her mind. It would be a neat little way of celebrating and blowing off some steam, even if she didn’t actually win the show, quickly followed by riotous sex with Andrew either at home or in the backstage lavatory if their desire for one another was too powerful to control.

Her bicep burst through her top without warning. She loved it when that happened. It was the second top that week. The bigger the rips and tears, the bigger she was; the bigger she was, the more so she wanted to become. It was a viciously erotic cycle that seemed to have no end. Not that Kirsty wanted it to. Her bicep throbbed, veins pulsing and squirming under her skin. The fact they could do that was yet another hint at just how powerful she’d become in such a short time. It made the bodacious redhead wonder how powerful she’d be now if the desire to work out had kicked in at an early stage in her life.

Kirsty smirked. With her beast of a pump at an end and muscles bulging to their extremities, now just might be the time to pay the police another visit for passive “second thoughts.”

If only Andrew could see her now…
Funny story: this was originally supposed to be a Patreon-exclusive release. But the fact is, I actually forgot to charge my generous patrons for it, so...they got a free story that month, yay!CheerleaderCheerleaderSeriously though, I'm not so sure the patrons liked the story's dark theme anyway, so it's unlikely to continue - unless they say otherwise.

let me know your thoughts on this.
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I love it please keep it going