Black Princess

None of these ladies are “Black Princess.” But they’re all beautiful nevertheless.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Out of respect for her privacy, I will not reveal the real identity of “Black Princess.” Rest assured she’s a real-life female bodybuilder. But it is not necessary in such a public forum to give out her name for everyone to see. What happens during a muscle worship session should stay within the confines of that motel room. It’s a matter of basic ethics. So instead, I will just post stock photos of models to stand in for Black Princess. This means none of the women featured in this article is the actual Black Princess. Any indication otherwise is purely unintentional. If you are featured in any of these photos and would like me to take it down, please send me an email at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com and I will promptly remove it. Enjoy!

***

“Do you like muscular girls?”

I take a moment to pause, turn to look her in the eyes, and smile.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t!”

She laughs and nods her head in agreement. It’s not a silly question, but one that still needs to be asked. After all, do I like muscular women because of who they are, or because of what “services” they can provide?

The answer is simple: I love muscular women for who they are as people. They’re awesome. And worthy of being praised. And deserving of their accolades.

It really is that simple.

Not too long ago I experienced a muscle worship session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder who was travelling up to Seattle for a few days. As always, I’m not going to use her real name, so let’s refer to her as “Black Princess.” She’s a fun-loving gal with beautiful curvy muscles, silky smooth skin, a radiant smile, and the greatest butt in the world. I enjoyed every minute of our time together, which lasted a bit longer than I – and she – had anticipated.

Unlike most muscle worship sessions, this was one that I set up at the last minute. Three days beforehand, to be exact. Normally I set an appointment with the session provider at least a month prior to the meeting. That way I can set aside enough money to pay for it, clear my schedule if necessary, and wait with eager anticipation. This time around, however, it was a more spur of the moment thing. My life has been pretty busy of late, so seeing what was going on in the “female muscle scene” wasn’t high on my to-do list. But I’m sure glad I did carve out some time to check it out!

Like most of the FBBs I’ve meet, I knew who Black Princess was before. She’s one of the many ladies over the years I’ve come to adore through her photos and videos. She isn’t as prolific as others when it comes to producing media, but she is definitely out there for anyone to discover. She’s not one of the more “famous” FBBs within the community of people who love FBBs, but you know who she is when you see her. She’d hard to forget.

I sent her a polite and brief email asking to see her for a simple muscle worship session. No wrestling. No BDSM stuff. Just looking for a fun, casual, and sensual time. Her replies were equally brief – although to be fair, much more so – and to the point. She, like many female bodybuilders who offers one-on-one sessions, probably gets inundated with tons of emails daily. So I was not turned off by her seemingly curt replies.

Her hotel was located at the edge of Downtown Seattle, very close to where I work. So I didn’t need to travel far to get to her room. It was a 25 minute walk at the most. I don’t consider that too long. I found the convenience a pleasant surprise. Plus, it wasn’t raining or too cold outside. That was a bonus.

Unlike most hotels, the building was a combination of apartment units and hotel units – meaning it was technically a private residence. So I couldn’t get inside unless I had a keycard or code. I texted her asking for her to come downstairs and fetch me. After a two minute wait that seemed like an hour (when you’re eagerly anticipating meeting a gorgeous female bodybuilder, time passes very slowly), I finally see a beautiful young black woman strut down the lobby and open the door. We exchange names and recognize that we have mutual business to take care of with each other.

Minutes later we enter into her room. It’s scorching hot! She apologizes and says she grew up in a household where the thermostat was constantly cranked up, so that’s just what she’s used to. She immediately turns on an air conditioner machine and within moments it’s humming and rumbling. I had to wipe off several drips of sweat off my weary face. I had a long and boring day at work. Naturally, I was also distracted by the nervous anticipation of seeing Black Princess. That didn’t make time move faster, unfortunately.

But here I am. Excited as can be!

Black Princess wore a button-down shirt and sweat pants. After all, she couldn’t wear anything too sexy or revealing when strolling across the lobby. That would definitely attract unwanted attention! She asked for permission to change. I told her “yes,” as if my answer would ever have been “no.” She walks into the bathroom and I undress down to my boxers as I wait.

Soon, she emerges from the bathroom wearing a white sports bra, athletic thong, and leather heels. She looks marvelous! With the shoes, she probably stood at a little under 6 feet tall. Without, she’s a few inches shorter than me. But for now, she towers over me. I don’t complain one bit. She has beautiful hazel brown skin, a killer hairdo, and nice curvy muscles that aren’t too big but big enough that you’d do a double-take if you ever saw her in public. She’s beyond beautiful. Wow! Stunning. A work of art. A masterpiece of human flesh. Unreal.

Black Princess is everything you want in a female bodybuilder: Gorgeous face, sparkling personality, curvy muscles, unquestionable femininity, an easy-going style, and humility. She isn’t one to intimidate you or make you feel inferior. She wants you to have a good time. She’s nice to talk to and has plenty of fun stories to share. We got off on a conversation that will stick with me forever:

“I’m not gay, but I love girls with muscles,” she tells me.

“Really? That doesn’t technically make you a lesbian?” I ask.

“I don’t think so. But I love touching their bodies!”

We laugh it off. But it illustrates an interesting idea. I ask her if she enjoys touching the bodies of muscular guys. She says she’s not really turned on by that sort of thing, despite her claims that she’s straight. She likes men, but also enjoys muscular women. She loves touching hard feminine flesh. I tell her if there’s such a thing as a sexual orientation that revolves around being attracted to muscular women, we’d both be card-carrying members. We snicker together in agreement.

I have no idea if Black Princess is straight, a lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, or whatever. I have the feeling even she has no clue what to call herself exactly. And you know what? It doesn’t matter how she chooses to identify. She likes what she likes and there’s no good reason to attach a label to it.

We stay mostly in bed. Eventually I ask her to straddle me. I reach up and feel her biceps. She flexes them for me. A chill runs down my spine when I experience her hardness. She’s so soft…yet so hard. She’s that multidimensional. She turns over and I explore the deep mounds of her back. She’s a sturdy gal with enough confidence to conquer the world. It’s surprising she hasn’t yet.

We chat casually about her daily routine, the weather patterns of Seattle (a clichéd conversation if there ever is one), my preferences in muscular women, and other mundane topics. I cannot stop touching her perfectly formed butt! It’s flawlessly shaped and she knows it. Damn well. She mentions how her friends are envious of her derriere. I can see why. If yoga pants “tell no lies,” then she has no reason to hide anything. I felt privileged to have been able to place my hands on her immaculate butt.

Black Princess doesn’t do full nudity, but she did generously remove her bra once my hour-long session with her lasted longer than that. I don’t think she’s a “clock water.” It probably helps that I was her last client of the night. It was a joy to cup her full bosom and suck on each nipple with languorous delight. Her nipples were taut and sensitive, judging from her quiet moans as my lips explored them. I really wanted to explore her clit, but she didn’t seem willing to remove her panties. I didn’t ask, but somehow I got the feeling she wouldn’t want to.

But that’s the least of my worries. I caressed her bottom, her thighs, her calves, her back, her biceps, her shoulders, her neck, and finally…her face.

I don’t often spend a lot of time caressing an FBB’s face, but I did with Black Princess. She’s a gorgeous woman. Even without her shapely body, she’d be a supermodel that graces the covers of all the magazines. Her face is art. Sharp eyes, angular jawline, rich brown skin, and not a single wrinkle – I guess the cliché that “black don’t crack” has some merit after all – on her beautiful visage, Black Princess sure doesn’t look like a woman approaching her 40s. She could pass for someone in her mid 20s. I felt a tingle of excitement while stroking her soft skin. It’s one thing to look at a beautiful face. It’s quite another to actually touch it; as if beauty is just as tactile as it is aesthetic.

As strange as this sounds, even if I were blindfolded I could tell that she’s beautiful. Just from how her face feels it’s evident that she’s a genuine beauty. Maybe that’s just crazy talk, but it sounds perfectly rational from my perspective.

The rest of our evening together is as low key as it can get. She lies down on her side as my hands carefully explore every inch of her body. We speak, but not too loudly. It’s a peaceful atmosphere, nothing even close to resembling a rough-and-tumble fantasy wrestling or hardcore BDSM session. For skeptics out there who think FBBs are gross or that guys who like muscular women are emotionally disturbed perverts, I’d like for them to be a fly on the wall who could observe our time together. They’d quickly see nothing strange, disturbing, or out of the ordinary transpires during a typical muscle worship appointment. Then again, being a fly on the wall has its cons. You can’t jump in and participate yourself.

Seeing Black Princess wearing very little is, without question, enough to make you want to jump in!

Alas, all good things must come to an end. Eventually our time together came to a halt. As I put my clothes back on, Black Princess tells me about a friend who lives in Seattle and how she plans to meet with her the following day. She hints that she may be back in this area sooner rather than later. How incredible that would be! She’s definitely someone I’d like to meet again.

As I walk back to my car, I reflect on our time together. She’s a princess, but a humble one at that. She’s kind, quiet, easygoing, sensual, and well aware of her unique beauty – but not conceited about it. She knows her beauty is an asset, not a weapon. A force for good, not a tool for self-aggrandizement. Black Princess is a woman who doesn’t stand out in a crowd, but will capture your full attention if you see her in an intimate setting. She’s beautiful in every way imaginable.

Like Blonde Amazon, Black Princess is a jewel who makes the world around her shine brighter. She isn’t “famous” in the conventional sense of that word, but she leaves a lasting impression that will never cease to make you smile.

As I write this, I’m still smiling. It’s not difficult to understand why.

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Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Exploit Me: The Exploitative Nature of Female Bodybuilders

Exploitation - Denise Masino

Denise Masino exploits every single one of my deepest and darkest fantasies.

Sometimes, all we want is to be exploited.

Not “exploited” in a materially oppressive sense, but exploited in a sensory/emotional/aesthetic sense.

Beginning in the 1960s – although film historians would argue it actually began earlier – a new genre of moviemaking emerged in our pop culture: exploitation films.

Exploitation films took different forms, but the basic purpose was the same: allow viewers to vicariously experience outrageous, hideous, graphic, taboo, or socially unacceptable content in cinematic form. The genre could be horror, action, science fiction, comedy, erotica, or satire. Regardless, you watched those movies – and still do – not for the storytelling, artistry, or critical accolades. You watched them because they made you feel naughty and you secretly loved feeling naughty.

Or, they made you feel emotions that you rarely get to feel in real life: Fear, dread, sexual arousal, disgust, giddiness, catharsis, and so on. Whether we love slasher horror flicks, softcore porn with gratuitous nudity, or ultraviolent action movies that generously bends the rules of physics, these movies are short on plot and character development but rich in shock value.

Popular titles include The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Pink Flamingos, Shaft, Foxy Brown, Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, Cannibal Holocaust, I Spit on Your Grave, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, Isla: She Wolf of the SS, and many other titles too numerous (or distasteful) to mention. Note that not all of these movies are alike. Some are splatter horror movies that intend to make you sick to your stomach while others are sexually titillating flicks meant to “get a rise out of you”…if you get my meaning.

There are also a few mainstream films that have won critical acclaim and Oscars that could be included in this list. The Exorcist and A Clockwork Orange immediately come to mind.

Exploitation entertainment is the direct descendent of pulp novels known as “penny dreadfuls” that emerged in the United Kingdom in the 19th century. Ghastly and forbidden stories were passed around inconspicuously to curious people desperate for that tingling sensation that comes from being naughty. They exploited our dark and dirty imaginations in ways few “mainstream” literature could. Their cheapness made it all the better. You can’t feel too guilty about sinning when it only cost you a single penny to sin!

Exploitation - Beyond the Valley of the Dolls

All of this is setup for a comparison that may seem strange at first but makes complete sense when you think more about it. In a previous post about Yvette Bova, I likened her to an exploitation film. Her brashness, uncompromising style, unapologetic attitude toward her body and sexuality, and enthusiasm for participating in hardcore porn make her peerless in the world of female bodybuilding. Many FBBs will do porn. But few will do it with as much gusto as her. She doesn’t hold back. She goes all in.

If Nataliya Kuznetsova is the “Human Photoshop Illusion,” then Yvette Bova is the “Human Exploitation Film.” She does it all. Yvette indulges our fantasies in the dirtiest ways possible. It can be gross at times, but we cannot look away. And once one of her nasty videos come to an end…we do not hesitate to wait for the next one to autoplay.

But I’ve spent enough time examining Miss Bova. Let’s talk about female bodybuilders in general. In a strange way, female bodybuilders as a whole are exploitative in nature. Even to those who aren’t “into” female bodybuilders but are still fascinated by them nevertheless. Think of the laundry list of thoughts and feelings FBBs can elicit out of us:

  • Arousal
  • Disgust
  • Confusion
  • Intrigue
  • Lust
  • Horror
  • Surprise
  • Curiosity
  • Perplexity
  • Cognitive dissonance
  • Obsession
  • Excitement
  • Nervousness
  • Insecurity
  • Embarrassment
  • Humiliation
  • Defensiveness
  • Hopefulness
  • Inspiration
  • Giddiness
  • Absentmindedness
  • Envy
  • Motivation
  • Coarseness
  • Passion

Whew. Female bodybuilders provoke strong emotional reactions out of people, regardless of how you actually feel about them. FBB fans and haters alike cannot help feel strong feelings when they see images of muscular women in action. However, this discussion really centers around the thoughts and emotions that are more positive in nature.

Generally speaking, there are very few “casual” female bodybuilder fans. Most FBB lovers are fanatical in their devotion to their beloved ladies. We get that same tingly feeling rushing up our spines every single time we scroll through our favorite FBB’s Instagram feed. We ceaselessly search for new photos and videos to satisfy our appetites. We need our “daily fix” of muscular women as if we were junkies. These behaviors certainly fit the definition of fanatical.

Exploitation - The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

However, for many of us this is not enough. Sometimes, we need something more. Something stronger. Something more extreme. Something that will satiate our darkest fantasies. Something way more exploitative than we’d normally experience.

It’s one thing to see yet another photo of Cindy Landolt strutting around in sexy lingerie. It’s quite another to watch Brandi Mae Akers give two guys a hand job at the same time before both of them spurt all over her face. The former arouses us. The latter makes us feel dirty. Heck, it may not even turn us on in a traditional sense. Instead, our experience of watching Brandi Mae act filthy for the camera is pure entertainment. Not porn, but entertainment. Porn only exists to sexually arouse us. Entertainment exists to amuse our senses.

Cindy is art. Brandi Mae is smut. This isn’t a criticism, but rather an observation. Miss Akers isn’t trying to appeal to our classy high-brow sensibilities. She’s only interested in making our blood boil to the point that we really need some “alone time” by ourselves to, uh, relieve the pressure. There’s nothing inherently wrong with smut if that’s what one wants to achieve. There’s also nothing wrong with watching a Peter Jackson film festival that features both The Lord of the Rings and Bad Taste. Two completely different movies. The same director. It boggles the mind.

But even the non-smutty FBBs who prefer to keep it modest are still able to elicit strong reactions out of us. Women like Karen Zaremba, Deidre Pagnanelli, Monica Brant, and Shawn Tan have kept things fairly clean over the years. They may do some nudity – or none at all – in photoshoots that are intentionally sexy, but they try to maintain an air of classiness all throughout. Whether an FBB chooses to keep it clean or forego any façade of decency, one cannot deny the enthralling allure these ladies emanate.

That intoxicating allure can only be satiated by having our thoughts, emotions, and fantasies exploited. So, what is it about female bodybuilders in particular that cause us to react this way?

Exploitation - Foxy Brown

The biggest reason is that female bodybuilders, just by being who they are, are so taboo. They don’t even have to try to be taboo. That’s just who they naturally are. A woman with big muscles goes contrary to everything to think we know about men, women, gender roles, biology, culture, and history. Yet, there is a (regrettably) small number of women in this world who dare to break that mold.

Female bodybuilders challenge our perceptions of what women can achieve. If we think they’re always the “weaker sex,” Alina Popa is ready to take you to school. If you think women with muscles look gross, Shannon Courtney will gladly shift your paradigm so fast it’ll register on the Richter scale. For straight men, FBBs challenge our masculinity. They stab a dagger right into our fragile sense of superiority. They prove we are not destined to be the dominant sex and that hard work (and laziness) matter more than genetics. These assaults on our undeserved sense of supremacy can either make us feel insecure or angry. Or both. Regardless, these are strong emotions. And strangely enough, strong emotions have an odd way of turning us on.

Taking our masculine identities out of the equation, FBBs just seem like they’re bigger than life. And not just in a literal sense. Their strength, power, magnetism, personalities, and physical abilities seem superhuman. As if FBBs aren’t actually real – they’re really comic book characters manufactured in a Hollywood studio. But alas, FBBs are very real. And very beautiful. And mind-blowing. Once again, these are strong emotional responses.

As I wrote in a previous blog article about The Scarcity Principle, the fact FBBs are a rare breed also adds to their appeal. In short, we tend to value commodities that are in short supply more than ones that are in abundance. We look forward to holidays like Halloween and Thanksgiving precisely because they only happen once a year. If every day were Halloween, dressing up in silly costumes and eating candy would lose its appeal. The fact we have to wait an entire year makes the heart grow fonder, as the old saying goes. Likewise, female bodybuilders are not a dime a dozen. It is extremely unusual to see a woman with big muscles under any circumstances. But when you do, you intuitively gain a deep appreciation for the experience because you know it’ll be a while until you get to experience it again.

Exploitation - Brandi Mae Akers

Brandi Mae Akers is pure smut. And that’s a compliment, not an insult.

The taboo nature of FBBs combined with basic human psychology explain why muscular women are able to exploit our senses like they do. In a world where sexuality has become so commercialized and manufactured that it’s become boring, we deep down inside crave something more raw, audacious, electrifying, and challenging. Female bodybuilders check off every single one of those boxes.

Scroll back up to that long list of emotions that FBBs are able to elicit out of us. Can you say the same for yet another photospread of a nameless and ultimately forgettable plastic surgery-enhanced Instagram model? Maybe a few of them, but certainly not most of them.

This is because female bodybuilders are not just “beautiful” in the traditional sense of that word. Many are definitely beautiful in a conventional manner, but their appeal goes well beyond that. FBBs are not for the simpleminded or faint of heart. They assault our senses and challenge our preconceived beliefs. One cannot simply look upon an FBB flexing her muscles and say “meh.” A million thoughts will start to race through your mind. You’ll get a jolt of energy that reinvigorates your soul. Certain deeply held fantasies will suddenly pop into your head that you never consciously knew you wanted to experience. You’ll want to scream from the rooftops your newfound love for muscular women for all to hear. You don’t care who knows it or what they think of you afterward.

These reactions are common for many people who love FBBs. Not everyone will feel the same way all the time, but that doesn’t have to be the case. A common theme emerges that we cannot ignore: In an increasingly dull and formulaic world, we secretly crave something that will reawaken our senses and make us feel uniquely alive.

Exploited, even.

Yvette Bova: A Guilty Pleasure

She’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but she’s definitely mine.

She isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Heck, she might even convert you to drink coffee instead.

It wouldn’t be fair to call her “polarizing,” mostly because female muscle fans tend to be pretty open minded about the muscular ladies we love – which isn’t to say that we don’t have our personal favorites. But she definitely has her fans…and people who aren’t her fans.

Yvette Bova is a one-of-a-kind. What one person loves about her someone else may find repulsive. And this isn’t a case of “either you get her or you don’t.” Instead, this is a case of either Yvette appeals to you or she doesn’t. She’s larger than life – both physically and metaphorically. She refuses to apologize for who she is and embraces her uniqueness.

Perhaps that’s the best way to describe Miss Bova: Unique.

Even within the relatively small world of female bodybuilders, Yvette stands out. She isn’t the most accomplished or famous FBB around, but you know her when you see her. She’s a self-made entrepreneur (and not in an annoying Silicon Valley kind of way) who understands what’s appealing about her and does whatever she can to benefit from it. There’s a lot to admire about that approach to life.

Yvette Bova was born on April 6, 1962 in Junction City, Kansas. She grew up in Denver, served in the U.S. Air Force for more than 13 years, and currently resides in Las Vegas. After leaving the armed forces, Yvette competed in several bodybuilding competitions from 1996 to 2006 as both a Middleweight and Light-Heavyweight competitor. Her accomplishments on the stage are modest, but it’s not in the sport itself where Yvette made her name.

It was in the world of adult entertainment.

Starting in 2002, Yvette says she was approached by a porn producer at a gym in Los Angeles – which is probably the most L.A. thing to ever have happened in the history of L.A. – and asked to participate in a porn scene. After doing some “soul searching” for several days, she agreed to his request and did the scene. Chances are there was nothing memorable about this particular scene, but it did spark inside Yvette’s mind the idea that she can make money off of her unique physique.

She’s a strong, confident, sexually liberated black woman who decided to take charge of her life. This definitely counts for something! But she didn’t become this way by waving trendy slogans around or using the right hashtags. She did this by taking action, refusing to bow down to societal pressure, and overcoming any obstacles that came her way. That’s real strength.

Yvette’s original website flamed out because the person she was working with was being difficult (pro tip: never allow your company’s website to be controlled by anyone who isn’t you). Learning from this unfortunate experience, Yvette launched a brand new website and multimedia business known as Club Yvette. Her video production company is YB Entertained Productions, a company she owns and operates. Today, Yvette is a self-made businesswoman who spends her time and energy celebrating the sexy side of female bodybuilders. She loves what she’s doing and doesn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon. Her videos are mostly about her, but she’s perfectly fine featuring other muscular ladies as well.

Miss Bova may be unique, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have peers.

At first glance, it’s easy to make a direct comparison between Yvette Bova and Kathy Connors, the Devilishly Sexy Muscle Siren. It makes perfect sense. There are a lot of similarities between the two:

  • Both women are not what you would call “traditionally beautiful.” Yet, they’ve transformed themselves into Unbelievably Sexy Muscle Goddesses through hard work, dedication, and sheer willpower.
  • Both women have their detractors, but none of that matters because they’ve come to embrace who they are and don’t pretend to be someone they’re not.
  • Both women are open about their sexualities and happily exploit it for financial gain.
  • Both women are perfectly cognizant of the fetishistic side of female muscle fandom and do not hesitate to capitalize off it.
  • Both women understand their niche audiences and do whatever they can to please them.
  • And finally, both women refuse to apologize for who they are, what they do, and why they do it. They’re confident, bold, empowered, and strategically placed for success.

Yvette – and Kathy as well – has carved out a nice little space for herself on the Internet. Yvette has assets that many people in this world find appealing: Big muscles, comically large breasts, an uncompromisingly sexy attitude, and a willingness to showcase her body and sexuality for leering eyes. There aren’t a whole lot of things she isn’t willing to do for the camera. She’ll participate in a “gang bang” with multiple guys. She’ll do scenes with women. She’ll masturbate. She’ll do BDSM scenes. She’ll have sex with a diverse group of men: old men, young men, skinny men, muscular men, ugly men, handsome men, white men, black men, men who are well endowed, men who aren’t well endowed, and so on. She loves having sex, in case you haven’t noticed! But more than that, she enjoys delivering what her fans crave.

This is part of her genius. If you love Yvette, you can watch her videos and easily imagine yourself in them as well. She has sex with good looking studs, but also gets freaky in the sheets with “average Joes” too. That works to her benefit. As viewers, we can vicariously place ourselves into the video because we see that she loves getting it on with many different types of men: both men who look like us and men who don’t look like us. Because of this, we can seamlessly fantasize about being with her because her “standards” aren’t so high that we aren’t able to meet them.

For example, in one video Yvette will have sex with a guy with a 8-inch long penis and enjoy every minute of it. However, before we start to feel too insecure about ourselves, in the next video she has sex with a more normally endowed guy and still seems to enjoy it. Yes, it’s all an act for the camera, but for the sake of vicarious entertainment it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we love Yvette because she’s a pure Sex Kitten. She loves sex and doesn’t really care who she has it with. Just as long as a dick is inside her, she’s as happy as can be.

This is a complete contrast from Denise Masino. As noted in an earlier blog article, Denise rarely has sex with men in her videos (and if one exists, I’m yet to find it). This tactic also works to her advantage because the lack of a screen partner makes it easier for us to imagine us being her partner. That’s why people get upset when their celebrity crush gets married or announces they have a boyfriend/girlfriend. The fantasy of being with them is ruined. We understand that we have no chance in Hell of actually being with them, but that’s not why we’re upset. We’re disappointed because the fun has been drained out of the fantasy. The image of them kissing and cuddling an actual human being destroys the superfluous façade we’ve cultivated in our minds.

However, Yvette takes the complete opposite approach of Denise, yet they both achieve the same result. Denise doesn’t have sex with any men. Yvette has sex with every kind of man. Either way, we are still able to imagine ourselves getting it on with both of them. In Denise’s case, we can mentally situate ourselves as her missing partner. In Yvette’s case, we feel empowered knowing that no matter who we are, she will embrace us with open arms. In other words, if Yvette is willing to have sex with a fat, old, balding man with a normal-sized penis…so can I!

The major difference between Yvette and Denise is that Yvette is less interested in being sexy and more interested in, well, having sex. Yvette loves having sex. A lot. More than we can comprehend. Unlike Denise, Amber DeLuca, Brandi Mae Akers, Angela Salvagno, or Emery Miller, Miss Bova doesn’t care as much about building her brand as a Powerful Muscle Goddess. Instead, she wants to be known as a Sex Goddess Who Happens to Have Big Muscles. She’s more interested in showing off her skills in copulating than she is in turning up the heat around her. She doesn’t waste time with foreplay, preening, flirting, or building tension. She’d rather get the party started immediately and ignore all the pretense.

This approach doesn’t appeal to everyone, but it doesn’t have to. She embraces the “slutty” label as part of her brand. She loves pleasure, experiencing pleasure, giving pleasure, and having a good time. She loves the joys her flesh – and the flesh of her partners – can bring her. And for viewers who agree wholeheartedly, Yvette is the gift that keeps on giving.

Yvette loves to smile. She loves to laugh. She loves to experience orgasms. She loves to bring her partners to orgasm. She’s tireless in her pursuit of pleasurable experiences. She’s a pure hedonist. She loves to have fun.

She isn’t scary, intimidating, or mysterious. Nothing about her is a mystery. She’s transparent about what she enjoys and what motivates her when she wakes up every morning. Amber DeLuca, on the other hand, is widely recognized as a powerful muscle mistress who will dominate you without mercy. Yvette doesn’t want to do that. She’d rather be a fun-loving gal who will bend over and take it from you with more enthusiasm than you’d think is possible.

What’s jarring is that Yvette doesn’t always “act” like a typical female bodybuilder. In her videos, she’s often in a submissive role in relation to her screen partners. Whether she’s on her knees giving blow jobs to a group of guys or getting pounded from behind by a handsome muscle stud while moaning in pleasure/pain, Yvette doesn’t portray herself as a Dominant Muscle Siren nearly as often as one would expect. Or, she’s seen as an equal to her partner – who isn’t always muscular like she is. Regardless, despite her considerable muscle mass Yvette isn’t afraid to play the role of the submissive one. She isn’t always in control. She allows her partners to control what happens in the bedroom. And this is quite unusual for anyone who watches a lot of female muscle videos (we can all raise our hands on that one).

Despite her status as a strong muscular liberated black woman, she still willingly plays the role of the subservient partner who passively goes along with whatever happens to her. It’s very strange to witness. Is this a strategic choice or an odd coincidence that shouldn’t be thought about too deeply?

I’m willing to bet this provides valuable insight into her worldview. She isn’t concerned with power dynamics or optics. She’s willing to allow an average-looking white man to fuck her on camera and not care about how this looks from a “woke” social justice perspective. She isn’t a postmodern feminist activist who is using the medium of pornography to “right historical wrongs” or “take back the power.” She’s instead a woman who loves to have sex and experience sex in a variety of ways. From her perspective, fun is fun. Fun shouldn’t be limited by subjective elements like appearances, politics, power dynamics, race, or social status. If she’s on top, great. If she’s on the bottom, that’s also great. No matter what, she’s enjoying every minute of it.

If what happens on screen appears to be humiliating to her, she doesn’t care about it. She’s a physically and emotionally strong woman who doesn’t give a single fuck about what society thinks. She can play the role of the submissive because she chooses to. Her videos may be politically incorrect from a feminist perspective, but she’s not here to change the world. She’s here to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh while she still has breath and entertain her beloved fans.

This is why Yvette has a following. The niche she’s found for herself is simple: Politically incorrect hedonism. I don’t know what her political/social beliefs are, but it doesn’t matter. She’s empowering herself in ways that not everyone will approve of. Many will shake their heads in disgust at the choices she makes. Yet, she pushes on, ignores the noise, and continues to live life the way she wants to. Isn’t that the very definition of “liberation?”

For that, Yvette Bova is a guilty pleasure. When you watch her videos, you cannot help but feel conflicted. She’s a female bodybuilder who doesn’t always act like a typical female bodybuilder. She does scenes that don’t always fit our expectations of what a strong muscular woman should be doing. Rian Johnson would be proud of how blatantly she seeks to subvert our expectations. Yvette is perfectly fine having “humiliating” things done to her like having semen smeared on her face or enduring the pain of a large dick penetrating her. She will bend over and let her partner(s) take control instead of the other way around. It perplexes us why she’d do this.

Yet, we must remind ourselves that Yvette has 100% creative control over the content she presents to the public. She owns the production company that produces her videos. She isn’t at the mercy of a misogynistic film producer or a tyrannical studio system. She does what she does because she wants it to be that way. On purpose.

We desperately want her to be a strong independent black woman who takes control of the men around her and reclaims the power that has been denied her ancestors (however you define that). Yet, she doesn’t always do that. She will allow a group of nameless and faceless white men have their way with her and won’t think twice about posting it on her website. The socio-political ramifications be damned. We want her to control the situation, not be handcuffed by it. But for whatever incomprehensible reason Yvette doesn’t always do what we want her to do.

So we enjoy her…and cringe while doing it. We get turned on by her…while reminding ourselves that it’s okay to be turned on by her. We tell ourselves that she’s a powerful woman in control of her environment…even if it doesn’t appear so on the surface.

Naturally, Yvette is unique in other ways. She’s larger than life. She’s a comic book character conceived from the dark recesses of a female muscle fetishist’s imagination. Unlike Nataliya Kuznetsova, Yvette’s muscle mass is impressive but not eye-popping. What is remarkable about her appearance are her enormous breast implants that seem too large to be real. Does she get back pain from carrying around that much weight on her chest?

If you’re a “boob guy,” Yvette is your lady. She obviously has no qualms about going further than most women are willing to go. Everything about her is full throttle. Pedal to the metal. An 11 out of 10. Amped up. Excessive. Bold. Subversive. Provocative. She doesn’t hold back. She isn’t afraid to “go there” and put herself in situations many of us would find uncomfortable.

She’s a porn star who isn’t ashamed of her body, her sexuality, her accomplishments, her desires, her preferences, and her art. Yes, it’s a bit strange to label smutty porn as “art,” but it is nevertheless. It’s not artfully produced, but it does make a bold statement. Her videos say “this is who I am and if you don’t like it you can leave and go somewhere else.”

Her videos also say “however, if you do like it then you are welcomed to stay and enjoy the ride!”

Her appearance can be grotesque, even to the most compassionate female muscle fan. But that’s part of her charm. She knows many people will stumble upon her videos and leave disparaging comments. She knows ignorant trolls will say she “looks like a man” or “women shouldn’t look like that” or “nobody wants to see that!” She ignores that and soldiers on anyway. She understands not everyone will embrace her, but the small number of people who do are in for a treat.

Yvette doesn’t try to be classy. She doesn’t seek your approval. Her brand is trashy and that’s the way she likes it. She produces smut that titillates our senses, not high art that stimulates our brains. She’s that b-level horror movie you giddily snuck into as a teenager. You promised your parents you’re seeing The Poseidon Adventure when you’re actually going to watch Pink Flamingos. She’s a human exploitation film, a delight on screen that you know you shouldn’t enjoy but do anyway. She’s pure smut. You feel dirty after watching her in action. And we love her for it.

Enjoying Yvette’s exploits is like being entertained by a badly dubbed 1970s Hong Kong action movie or laughing at an offensive comedian’s bad jokes. You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s bad for you. You know it’s not socially acceptable. You know there are a million rational reasons why you should walk away and go to your local church to confess your sins. But you don’t. You sit there and smile at what you see unfold before you.

Heck, even the most hardcore female muscle fan may feel apprehensive about admitting that they like Yvette. You may say to yourself “I respect her, but she ain’t my style” while proceeding to jerk off while thinking about plowing your face into her enormous pillows. You may feel ashamed afterward and immediately delete your browsing history, but when the time comes around again you’ll happily repeat the shenanigans.

That’s the very definition of a guilty pleasure!

Yvette Bova isn’t my favorite FBB or even in my top 10. But I have a lot of respect for her. Seriously. She’s a smart businesswoman who has taken control of her destiny. She’s intelligently carved out a small group of fans and has given them exactly what they want repeatedly throughout the years. Like Denise Masino and Amber DeLuca, Yvette understands why certain guys love female bodybuilders and produces content that satisfies their fetishes. Yvette wasn’t born with the same natural beauty Cindy Landolt possesses and that’s perfectly okay. She doesn’t need to be considered conventionally beautiful. She can use her monstrousness to her advantage. She’s a truly Beautiful Monster who creeps us out and devilishly arouses us at the same time.

She isn’t perfect in every way, but she’s perfectly fine with who she is.

eBook Preview – “Muscle Love: Confessions of a Muscle Worshipper”

Muscle Love

I don’t often endorse products, but I came across a new eBook that fans of female bodybuilders should consider purchasing: Muscle Love: Confessions of a Muscle Worshipper.

The authors, Richard and Jayne Greye, contacted me about promoting their new book on my blog. I joyfully obliged. Here’s a summary that they provided me:

Jacket Cover: Meet Rick, the guy-next-door with a muscle fetish that started at eighteen with an encounter with an older, muscular woman. This full-length novel follows his quest to explore his obsession with muscular women and his struggle to reconcile this need with the rest of his life. He hides this side of himself, satisfying his urges in clandestine liaisons, until he meets a woman with the desire to get big and revels in her transformation. But what happens when she surpasses his fantasies and wants to dominate him? “Muscle Love” is a full-length novel which is both a compelling emotional and physical growth story as the two main characters deal with loss and find redemption in each other and their shared interest in strength. Their story is filled with difficulties, sexual discoveries and in the end, a new understanding of what it means to be strong.

Sounds intriguing! I haven’t read it myself – I hardly have any free time anymore – but I highly encourage all of you to download it and enjoy it at your leisure. Here’s how you can buy it:

Amazonhttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H6Y2HSY

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/895860

Applehttps://itunes.apple.com/us/book/muscle-love-confessions-of-a-muscle-worshipper/id1436735652

Interested in learning more about the author? Read this interview with Richard featured on Smashwords’ website:

Interview: https://www.smashwords.com/interview/JayneGreye

Know of any other female muscle-themed fiction books out there? I’ve personally read Chemical Pink and Devil and Disciple – The Temptation. Both are must-reads for FBB fans. Let me know in the comments below.

Oh, Cindy

Cindy 1

Sometimes, perfection is attainable.

It doesn’t happen often. But when it does, you notice. Big time. You don’t need to be an art connoisseur to know that Michelangelo’s painting on ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is a once-in-a-millennium masterpiece. You don’t need to be an expert in music theory to agree that Beethoven’s 9th symphony is one of the greatest compositional achievements of all time. You don’t need to be an erudite dramaturg to understand that William Shakespeare’s Hamlet deserves its uniquely special place in theatre history.

There are many other examples of masterpieces in the world of art, literature, music, architecture, film, and photography. But there is one human being in particular who has achieved something that sounds rather strange when you say it out loud. And many of you should agree with me on this.

This person has achieved Human Perfection.

She’s perfect in every way. Her body, her looks, her intelligence, her personality, her accomplishments, everything and anything. She’s the perfect “bridge” female bodybuilder who pleases both the hardcore Female Muscle Fans and the non-Female Muscle Fans. She may even be able to convert a few cynical Female Muscle Haters. She’s curvy, strong, feminine, classically beautiful, independent, compassionate, relatable, charismatic, unforgettable, and instantly alluring. Once you are introduced to her, you cannot go back. She’s forever burned into your memory.

You begin to wonder what your existence was like before you discovered her: How on Earth was I able to survive without knowing she was out there? Did I really grow up thinking Megan Fox was the pinnacle of female beauty? Did I truly understand what “beauty” really was before knowing this woman had existed? Why did I spend so much of my time jerking off to Katy Perry when someone infinitely more gorgeous was just a simple Google search away?

The answers to these questions are simple: You hadn’t discovered her yet. And once you did, your paradigm shifts so drastically it makes Pangaea’s supercontinental break-up seem trivial enough to belong in a Taylor Swift album.

Who is this Mystery Woman I am cryptically referring to?

Cindy Landolt, of course!

Oh, Cindy.

Cindy, Cindy, Cindy.

You truly are a Female Muscle Fan’s dream come true. You are the physical embodiment of human perfection. When we look up “beautiful” in the dictionary, we’ll see a picture of you. That’s who you are. Beautiful in every sense of the word…and then some.

Cindy Landolt was born on January 11, 1985 in Wetzikon, Switzerland. The Swiss Muscle Goddess has always lived an active life, enjoying skiing, hiking, and mountain biking as a little girl (aren’t these typical activities of any self-respecting Swiss citizen?). She currently lives in Zurich but travels a lot, essentially making the entire world her home. Unlike many of the women we love, Cindy has never been a competitive bodybuilder. She finds such rabid competition distasteful and would rather spend her creative energy lifting up others instead of trying to defeat people.

Good for her!

At age 16 she stopped training to be a gymnast because of her considerable height. Standing at 5’10”, she’s a striking woman who is far from being a dainty ingénue. She’s a Super Woman who appropriately personifies the “Goddess” label. As a young adult Cindy embraced resistance training. Then she enrolled in the Swiss Academy of Fitness and Sports to become a qualified personal trainer and fitness instructor, learning the ropes of becoming a certified nutrition, rehabilitation, strength training, weight loss, and sporting coach. In 2009 she founded her own personal training company in Zurich. Her clients are diverse in their goals, but her approach remains the same: she prioritizes growth and progress over an unhealthy hyper-focus on end results.

Cindy 2

She’s also been on the cutting edge of virtual training. People all over the world – and that is not an exaggeration – can sign up for 1:1 online training and nutrition consultations. How she finds the time to manage all her business obligations is beyond me. I’m guessing she has to be selective about who her clients are. But nevertheless, she should be commended for being so tech-savvy, forward-thinking, and proactive in knowing where the fitness industry is going and how to exploit the voids in the market.

Cindy is a flawlessly beautiful woman. She is perfect. Ed Sheeran, eat your heart out. And best yet, as I mentioned earlier she has the potential for major cross appeal of which very few of her peers can boast.

She has plenty of muscle to appease the committed fans of female bodybuilders. She is also “safe” in that she’s conventionally beautiful, curvy, and unambiguously feminine. It’s a shame that traditional femininity is somehow a necessity for obtaining mainstream appeal, but it is what it is. But as it stands today, Cindy is not actually a mainstream celebrity. She’s well-known within female muscle fandom circles and the fitness industry, but don’t expect Miss Landolt to appear on the cover of Vogue anytime soon.

Her physique defines the word “statuesque.” She looks like she was chiseled out of marble, her flesh carved out of an artist’s erotically-charged imagination. She seems too good to be true. Too beautiful to be real. Too perfect to be comprehended. But alas, she is a real human being. She does exist. In our world. She didn’t fall from Heaven. She was born of fellow human beings. She is a woman, not a Goddess. A lady, not an angel. A mortal, not a deity.

But in our feverish imaginations, she is in fact a Goddess. She defies explanation. We are addicted to her and we cannot get enough. We need our daily Cindy fix, like a junkie furiously looking for their shady supplier. Unlike “normal” beautiful women, Cindy casts a spell on us that’s difficult to articulate into words. But I’ll try.

Let’s compare Cindy Landolt to Pamela Anderson. If you grew up in the 1990s, you knew who Pamela Anderson was. If you were a pubescent boy who spent his formulative years during the height of Miss Anderson’s fame, you definitely were aware of who she was. Is Pamela Anderson a flawless woman? Well, yes and no. She’s as physically attractive as any mainstream celebrity who has ever walked this Earth. No doubt about that. She was an international superstar for a damn good reason.

However, Pamela felt very two-dimensional. She was the perfect “Fantasy Woman,” a teenage boy’s ideal wet dream. She tapped into the naughty side of our psyches, providing us the perfect avenue for exploring our newfound sexualities. The scandals she faced, the high profile failed marriages, the “leaked” sex tape; all of it helped build her up as once-in-a-generation sex kitten who defined the decade and the childhoods of millennial men everywhere. The same could be said for Carmen Electra, Cindy Margolis (remember her?), or Jennifer Lopez.

Cindy 3

Cindy, on the other hand, is more three-dimensional. She isn’t just the perfect “jack off” material. No, that’s not her at all. She’s classy. She’s mature. She’s mannered. She has standards. She values her reputation. She isn’t reckless. She’s a forward-thinker. She isn’t obsessed with being popular or going “viral.” Rather, she’s carved out a niche for herself in an industry where entrepreneurship is the name of the game. You don’t get to “break into” the fitness industry like you do Hollywood. You make your own name for yourself. It’s all on you.

“Classy” is the best way to describe Cindy. She’s never crude or rude. She’s sexy, but not dirty. There are layers to her personality. She’s beautiful on the outside, but equally beautiful on the inside. The genuinely wants to help people, an altruistic spirit that is in short supply in show business. She isn’t a “sex symbol.” She isn’t any kind of symbol. She is who she is. What we see is what we get. She isn’t trying to put on a façade for the masses. She’s a businesswoman. An athlete. A coach. An expert. A model. She’s someone we aspire to become, whether we’re male or female.

This level of classiness can sometimes annoy her fans. Cindy never does full nudity in her photoshoots. You’ll never – at least not yet – see her nipples or genitals on full display. Yes, Instagram and other social media channels prohibit that sort of thing. But she doesn’t go there even on platforms (such as her personal website) in which anything is fair game. She chooses to be sexy in an elegant manner. She intentionally doesn’t give you everything you want.

The reason she’s shied away from doing fully nudity is unknown. I’m going to guess that she doesn’t want her brand to be associated with pornography. She wants to embrace her visual beauty, but not in an X-rated kind of way. She’s more PG-13. Sensual, yes. Graphic, no.

Also, in 2013 she did something groundbreaking that split her fanbase in half. She got breast implants. Before, Cindy was all natural and allowed her breasts to shrink as a result of gaining muscle. But in the spring/summer of that year, she did the unthinkable and “enhanced” herself. Unlike Yvette Bova her new endowments aren’t comically large. They’re certainly big, but not distracting. Well, maybe a little distracting. I suppose I mean they aren’t so big they bother you. It’s all semantics.

Cindy 4

Anyway, her boob job five years ago confirmed that she’s not shy about showing off her sexual attractiveness. Whether she did it for personal or business reasons, Cindy made the decision to increase her sex appeal. Now random haters can’t really claim that she isn’t completely feminine. She’s damn muscular…and curvy in all the right places.

In addition to not doing nudity, she doesn’t do any kind of hardcore porn whatsoever. Denise Masino, Angela Salvagno, Amber DeLuca, Brandi Mae Akers, and countless others are perfectly willing to show off every square inch of their bodies. Every. Square. Inch. They don’t leave anything to the imagination. Denise is so open about showcasing her genitalia that a gynecologist can probably give her a half-decent examination just by watching one of her videos. That is, assuming this doctor can concentrate properly while watching said video.

Unlike those ladies, Cindy keeps it fairly clean. Of course, not G-rated or PG-rated by any stretch of the imagination. She’ll show off her naked butt, back, and almost everything else. Just not her full breasts and genitals. She’ll pose in a sexy bikini or sultry lingerie if she feels inclined to. Just not in her birthday suit. If she is nude, she’ll artfully cover up certain areas in order to maintain her self-imposed limitations. Will her fans ever get to “see it all?” Eh, probably not. But I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.

Oh, and Cindy never has sex on camera. But that’s sort of a given. It deserves to be mentioned.

In many ways, Cindy’s appeal is based on how much we love to fantasize about her. We know we have 0% chance of getting to be with her. So all we can do is imagine what she’d be like as a lover. How is she in bed? How would she act in the bedroom? Would she be on top or bottom? Would she take control or let her partner carry the reins? What does her, uh, clit look like? Is it enormous like Denise’s? Or more “normal” in size? How large is her labia? How pink is her vagina?

These are, admittedly so, creepy questions. Very creepy. But can any of you say with any integrity at all that these thoughts haven’t crossed your mind?

Didn’t think so.

The fact we don’t associate Cindy with being a smutty female bodybuilder is an intentional choice. That’s not who she is. I’m certainly not judging any FBB who does choose to do porn – but Miss Landolt prefers to keep her sex appeal modest in nature. She sure as heck isn’t shy about showing off her body – and we are all infinitely grateful for that – but she does so tastefully.

She values personal empowerment. She loves to make people feel and live better. She serves people. She genuinely wants to make the world a better place, one personal training session at a time. And if she can find time to do some modelling, so be it. That’s her way of adding more beauty to the Universe. And she succeeds at that with flying colors.

For the uninitiated, Cindy Landolt may be a revelation. A paradigm shift. An awakening. She could be the one who converts someone over to “our side.” As I mentioned before, she’s a bridge. She can live in both worlds and accomplish the nearly impossible task of pleasing both sides. It’s remarkable.

Cindy 5

In a weird way, Cindy Landolt is a very charitable woman. She’s beautiful and she loves sharing her beauty with the world. That’s a rather odd way of phrasing it, but it’s true: She’s charitable with her beauty. For her Instagram followers and millions of others who follow her elsewhere, we need our daily dose of Cindy. If we need something to brighten our day or help us unwind after a long day at the office, we can just scroll through Cindy’s IG feed and…that’ll do the trick. It’s like a medicine that can cure the blues.

We don’t typically view modeling as being an act of charity. We usually look at modeling as a means for corporations to sell more clothing, makeup, jewelry, perfume, and diet books. Within our free market capitalistic system, models add sex appeal to products in order to help them sell better. Yet, Cindy is a different matter. Obviously, she models because it helps promote her personal training business. And she probably finds it personally empowering. That’s all fine and dandy. But her modeling also serves as an act of almsgiving. A virtuous donation that helps make society a better place to live for all of us.

Her beauty isn’t just intoxicating. It isn’t just alluring. It isn’t just addicting. It’s a dose of fresh air. It’s medicinal. It’s therapeutic. It’s just what the doctor ordered!

Cindy Landolt’s beautiful face and body aren’t just art. They’re a fountain of joy. Her beautiful body truly adds color to the dark palette of our existence. She is light where there is darkness. She brings hope where there is despair. She creates joy where there is melancholy. She is a much-needed beacon of beauty in a world of ugliness.

Cindy is, simply put, perfection. In every imaginable way.

Beautiful Monsters

Monster - Isabelle Turell

Isabelle Turell is one beautiful Lady Hulk.

Growing up I’ve always been a huge Godzilla fan. I was first introduced to the franchise when I saw the original 1954 film on VHS as a little kid. Yes, it was the American version featuring English dubbing and Raymond Burr unnecessarily shoe-horned in for no good reason other than to give U.S. audiences a white person to identify with, but it was nevertheless the landmark film that introduced the world to Godzilla. Despite Perry Mason.

As if the Big Fella himself wasn’t enough of an attraction!

I may have been eight or nine years old when I first watched it. Then I saw several of the “Godzilla vs. <Insert Name of Random Kaiju>” movies. I believe those films are known as the Toho Showa Era. Some were better than others. I always loved Mothra and King Ghidorah (this may sound blasphemous, but I was never really a fan of Mechagodzilla), and will appreciate the underrated Gigan.

And yes, I am secretly a fan of the horrible 1998 Roland Emmerich film starring Matthew Broderick and Jean Reno. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine. Sue me.

Just kidding. Don’t sue me. I have very little for you to take…

Do I like other monster movies? Of course. King Kong is a classic. I think the original 1933 film holds up pretty darn well. It’s not just a “classic movie” that deserves recognition because it’s historically important. It also works as a solid piece of entertainment. Even for our modern standards. There’s something refreshing about seeing a puppet move via old-time stop-motion animation instead of everything just being animated by CGI artists in a dark sterile room.

Both Godzilla and King Kong are not just silly monster movies. They’re allegories for societal fears of the time. Yes, the filmmakers insist that King Kong isn’t a racist archetype of black men in America, but you can insert your own meaning into a story about a wild animal being captured in the jungle and brought to “civilized” society only to run amok and go on a rampage. At the end of the day, King Kong can be interpreted as a warning against the Western world exploiting the Third World (or “exotic” world) for glamour and fame. Or it can be an allegory of immorality of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Allegory.

Godzilla is more obvious in its messaging. It’s a parable of the Atomic Age and a metaphor for the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It’s critical of nuclear weapons, the fallout of nuclear testing on the environment, and the foolish nature of the U.S./Soviet Cold War. Godzilla is the offspring of humanity’s destructive nature, a constant reminder that death and destruction only begets more death and destruction. Not less. It was Japan’s way of coping with the traumas of World War II – both the traumas they suffered and the traumas they caused.

Monster - Godzilla

Godzilla: King of the Monsters. Need I say more?

Like Frankenstein’s monster, Godzilla is the result of mankind playing God. In this case, mankind created massive weapons of war and decided it can be the judge, jury, and executioner for no other reason than they believe that “history is on their side.” Sound familiar? To a smaller extent, the dinosaurs in the Jurassic Park movies serve the same thematic purpose.

For American and Japanese audiences, King Kong and Godzilla are monsters who represent hidden fears that can’t always be talked about in academic terms. We all know that Nuclear War is a bad thing. Yet, when we go to the cinema and watch images of cities being destroyed by a humungous uncontrollable man-made creature, it makes the threat of Nuclear War seem both more frightening and intensely personal. We caused this mess; and we are therefore the ones who can (and should) clean it up.

In this way, movie monsters are fictional representations of our own deeply ingrained fears. King Kong is a critique of how far mankind will go for fame and fortune. Godzilla preys on our fears that we will be the cause of our own destruction. We need these monsters because they make our fears seem real. They are the physical manifestations of our nightmares. They are the nexus of bedtime stories ripped straight from the headlines. It’s a cathartic form of punishment to see helpless human beings be murdered by the millions by creatures we either created or kidnapped. And when we leave the theater we feel a sense of guilt relieved and a valuable lesson or two learned.

But monsters don’t always have to prey on our fears. They can also tap into our hopes and dreams. Our ideals. Our best intentions. Godzilla isn’t always the villain. Sometimes he’s the hero defending Earth from alien kaiju. In a twist of fate, Godzilla is the savior we need. He’s a horrifying monster, but he’s our monster. He’s on our side. So monsters are not always a negative thing. They can also be an asset.

Take female bodybuilders, for example.

You knew I was eventually going to get back to them, right?

Like King Kong, Godzilla, Jurassic Park’s Tyrannosaurus Rexes, and slasher killers like Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees, female bodybuilders are also monsters. They’re beautiful monsters. Gorgeous monsters. Flawlessly angelic monsters.

And strangely enough, they tap into both our deepest fears and highest aspirational dreams.

Monster - King Kong

Got to give some love to King Kong too.

At casual glance, it’s a bit strange why straight guys would be attracted to muscular women. Most people assume that men would be naturally repulsed by female bodybuilders. And many are. But many are not. Conventional wisdom tells you that guys wouldn’t like female bodybuilders because they would make them feel inadequate. The sight of a woman with bigger muscles than you’ll ever achieve is enough to make you feel insecure, lazy, and a pathetic excuse-maker.

I mean, if she can get that big, what’s your excuse, buster?

This probably explains why guys are so quick to yell “Steroids, steroids, steroids!” in YouTube comments as if they were Jan Brady from The Brady Bunch. They need to remind others (and themselves) that the reason why these ladies are so big is because they’ve become so through unnatural means. It provides them psychological comfort knowing FBBs “cheat the system” by taking anabolic steroids that infuse them with an unnatural level of male hormones. And this, in turn, makes it easier to build so much muscle mass.

So if they see photos of Alina Popa or Nataliya Kuznetsova and scream “steroids!!!” as loud as they possibly can, that’s enough to protect their fragile egos from being shattered by a complete stranger they’re peculiarly stalking on Instagram.

In other words, for these Female Muscle Haters (FMH), FBBs are an attack on their masculinity. Or their title as the “Stronger Sex.” Female bodybuilders are monstrous to them not because they look freaky or weird, but because they remind themselves of how inadequate they are. They have a constant need to be better than women at every aspect of life (including professional and personal achievements) and treat every woman who is superior to them at something as a threat. It’s a sad commentary on how many people view the world, but that’s the way it is.

But for Female Muscle Fans (FMF), we choose to put our egos aside and embrace these strong beautiful ladies. We celebrate their impressive achievements and cheer them on to get bigger, stronger, and more famous. We don’t feel threatened by them. Rather, we feel an odd sense of empowerment by them. We know that we’re not as strong as them, but we don’t feel emasculated by that fact. We feel turned on. We feel – and this will sound strange to anyone who isn’t initiated into female muscle fandom – stronger because of them.

Stronger, you say? Oh yes.

Female bodybuilders inspire us to be better. They are the living embodiment of “strong independent women” that too many people claim to be but really aren’t. They give us a warm tingly feeling inside that cannot be explained. They are a reminder that women are not destined to be the “weaker sex” and that men can lose the label of being the “stronger sex” if they get complacent. It’s both scary and empowering to know that our destinies are in our own hands. We control who we are and what we become. Nobody else. That can be frightening because it makes us responsible for our own failings.

Monster - Jay Fuchs

Jay Fuchs is both beautiful and a Goddess you don’t want to anger.

Female bodybuilders take the initiative. They refuse to make excuses. When they fail, they learn from that failure and adjust accordingly. Nothing is given to them on a silver platter. They have to earn their muscles, going as far as having to work harder than men if they want to achieve the same level of muscularity. And the bodybuilding industry is doing them no favors either. They’re on an island, swimming upstream in a hostile and indifferent world.

And so when they do achieve eye-popping physiques that make our jaws drop to the floor, we are turned on by them even more knowing how damn difficult it is to look that way. I’ve written before that female bodybuilders “earn their beauty.” It feels more meritorious. An average-looking woman who isn’t born with natural beauty can transform herself into a Supreme All-Powerful Muscle Goddess by following a strict diet, workout regimen, and supplementation schedule. She can go from being an ugly duckling to an Unstoppable Muscle Queen Who Slays Her Enemies through means that are totally within her control. That’s true empowerment.

Charlize Theron hit the genetics jackpot and was born naturally drop-dead gorgeous. Not everyone is so lucky. However, bodybuilding is one way (certainly not the only way) that someone can transform themselves into a more physically beautiful person without having to resort of cosmetic surgery. I love Kathy Connors dearly, but unlike Miss Theron, she was not born with natural beauty. But right now, Miss Connors is a Devilishly Sexy Muscle Siren through her own blood, sweat, and tears. And I applaud her for it!

This is why female bodybuilders tap into both our deepest fears and highest aspirations. Depending on how we choose to view the world, FBBs can make us feel either inadequate or inspired. Emasculated or empowered. We either reject their uniqueness or we embrace it. We see their muscled physique as either a reminder of our own weakness or a celebratory example of human perfection personified. We love them for who they are or we hate them for who they remind us we aren’t.

Who knew female muscle fandom could be so complex?

That being said, like all cinematic monsters, female bodybuilders are not inherently grotesque or beautiful. Those are labels we attach to them. We could look at Godzilla as the destroyer of humankind or we can look at him as a mere animal – granted, a very large animal – doing what all animals do: try to survive. Is Michael Myers a mindless psychopath who kills people because it’s in his nature? Or is he the product of a sick and twisted society that treated him like dirt and murdering hapless teens is his way of avenging that miserable childhood?

Monster - Bride of Frankenstein

Bride of Frankenstein was created to make sure the Creature didn’t get too lonely.

Perhaps this leads to an obvious conclusion: Monsters reveal our inner most fears because deep down inside, we’re actually afraid that we deserve the punishment that monsters levy upon us. When Godzilla stomps all over downtown Tokyo and kills scores of innocent people, it’s actually poetic retribution for mankind’s carelessness with regards to the environment. Or, a valuable lesson that man’s militaristic nature will eventually come back to haunt him. Peace begets peace, while war begets more war.

The vitriol aimed at female bodybuilders can be harsh, but not unexpected. People can be terrible when they can hide behind the anonymity of the Internet. Calling them “man-like” or “gross” or “freaky” may hurt their (and our) feelings, but in today’s trollish culture we must come to expect such idiocy.

Some FBBs use their haters as inspiration. Others choose to ignore them and instead focus on the people who genuinely love them. I think this is a more healthy route. Indeed, female bodybuilders are Beautiful Monsters. They are truly polarizing. Either you love them dearly or you are viscerally repulsed by them. Your reaction to seeing a photograph of a muscular woman can cause you to post bigoted misogynistic comments or unzip your pants and masturbate. I’ve received plenty of emails from fans who claim they’re “addicted” to female bodybuilders and that this fetish is so strong it’s causing their relationships with friends and family to break down.

Oof. I usually recommend they step back, take a deep breath, and seek the assistance of a counselor. That’s not healthy. That’s not fandom. That’s an obsession taken way too far.

It’s really bizarre that FBBs can elicit such totally opposing reactions.

Sexist hatred. Uncontrollable lust. Blatant misogyny. Animalistic sexual urges. Vitriolic comments. Fascination bordering on unhealthy obsession. Regardless, all of this leads to a much more disturbing but ultimately truthful assessment:

Perhaps female bodybuilders are not monsters after all.

We are.

Sexy Summer Short Story #5 – It’s Getting Hot in Here

Hot in here - Lynn McCrossin

The late Lynn McCrossin. May she rest in peace.

“Enough chit chat. Let’s get down to business!”

Madeline stands up, positions herself right in front of Max, and shows him her double biceps pose. Max remains sitting on the bed, captivated by her flawless physique. She knows she’s got him mesmerized in every way possible and is enjoying every moment of it. Madeline has seen her fair share of guys for muscle worship sessions, but she never tires of the feeling of being adored, revered, and lusted after.

“So hard. So powerful,” Max observes in a trance-like state. “You’re even bigger than the last time I saw you. And you were ridiculously huge even then.” Cupping her bicep peak in the palm of his hand, Max feels his manhood swell with arousal.

“Thanks, sweetie. Good eye for detail,” she says. “In fact, I am a little bigger than I was last year. I’m trying to move up a category the next time I compete.”

By now Max has moved his hands down to feel her hardened abdomen. Madeline’s six-pack abs are more pronounced now since she plans to compete in Europe in seven weeks. As a professional female bodybuilder, Madeline has placed high in several prominent bodybuilding contests across the world – spanning the globe from the United States to Europe to Africa to Australia to Central America to Southeast Asia.

Unfortunately, despite her impressive accomplishments, Madeline doesn’t make enough money doing these competitions. She has a part-time job teaching yoga to little old ladies in retirement homes, but even that doesn’t come close to paying the bills. So, she has to earn money on the side through “alternative” means.

Muscle worship and fantasy wrestling appointments are those means.

And Max – and lots of men (and occasionally women) like him – are her clients.

In Max’s case, this is his third time seeing Madeline. He first saw her five years ago when he was a nervous 19-year-old kid meeting his first ever real-life female bodybuilder. Ever since he was a little boy he’s always had a strange and unexplainable fascination with muscular women. He never could figure out why. They just turned him on more than “traditionally” beautiful women. Of course, he kept this a secret. And he’s pretty sure his mom never discovered the elicit bodybuilding magazines he had hidden underneath the bed.

So when he saw on a bodybuilding forum that Madeline – a woman he’s had a crush on for several years – was travelling to his city, he couldn’t let this opportunity go. He had to pursue this chance to meet her in-person. And he did. Then he did a second time. And now, he’s seeing her for a third time.

Usually they meet at an upscale hotel in the downtown area, but not today. Due to a major comic book convention happening this weekend, Madeline had to settle for a cheaper motel located outside the main city. Oh well. Her fans will follow her to the ends of the Earth for the chance to touch her heavenly body.

Hot in here - motel

A typical motel. Nothing fancy. Just a place to sleep.

“Your calves…my God…so dense,” Max whispers. Madeline accommodates him by raising her right leg and flexing her calf. Wearing a sexy crimson red bikini, Madeline reflects on all the guys she regularly sees. Most of them are men in their 40s and 50s. Very few are in their 30s, never mind their 20s. But alas, here’s Max enjoying the company of a woman like her. Big, tall, bulky, muscular, eye-popping, pretty, and infinitely confident. There aren’t a whole lot of women like Madeline in this world.

Max has moved on to her backside, admiring her curvy butt and broad back. He lightly pats both of her butt cheeks and she wiggles her hips for him.

“You like a woman’s ass?” Madeline asks.

“I like your ass!”

Madeline smirks and bends forward, inviting Max to further explore her glutes. He is glad to oblige.

***

Meanwhile, a motel employee is putting a large batch of bed sheets into an industry-sized dryer machine. It’s just a typically boring day at the office for her.

It’s almost lunchtime – and as any normal human being can testify to, it’s easy to mentally check out when you have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and bag of Funyuns on your mind. Right now, this employee has forgotten to clean out the lint trap before putting in the new load.

Statistically speaking, it’s exceedingly rare for a piece of hot lint to catch fire and burn down a building. Rare. But not impossible.

“God, it’s hot in here. No air conditioning, no windows, no nothing,” she complains. “Fuck this. Time for lunch.”

She closes the dryer hatch, sets it to the default cycle for white linen, and walks away to the staff break room. Little did she – and every single person in this motel at this particular moment – know that a disaster of epic proportions is about to occur just a few minutes later.

***

Thirty-six minutes later, Max is sitting on the bed watching Madeline take off her bikini. He’s in awe as she exposes her breasts and genitalia to him. Her boobs are small (she’s chosen not to get implants), but her clitoris is definitely not. She’s not erect yet, but Max still cannot believe she’s that large down there.

“You’re perfect,” he begins. “An impeccable beauty.”

Madeline is accustomed to compliments and does not blink an eye.

“Thank you sweet thing. Thank you.” She approaches him and helps Max strip nude himself. First, she removes his socks. Then she pulls down his jeans after Max unbuckles his belt. Soon, both she and her client are completely naked. Madeline peers out of the corner of her eye at the bedside clock and sees she has about fifteen minutes left with him. Time to end this session on a high note.

And to give him quite a surprise!

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Max,” she says. “I really like you and you’re a great guy. Do you want to go all the way?”

Max’s eyes widen. Did he hear her right? Did she just offer what he thinks she offered him?

“Uh, yeah! I guess…are you being serious?”

Without saying a word, Madeline walks over to her luggage and takes out a box of condoms. She selects a packet, opens the foil, and returns to the bed.

“Deadly serious…”

Max silently nods his head in approval. Taking that as her cue, Madeline hops on the bed and tickles Max’s scrotum. He closes his eyes and moans. Wanting to take in every sensual moment, he lies down and allows Madeline to do whatever the hell she wants to do. Eventually, Max’s penis is completely erect, ready to enter Madeline. She dutifully rolls the latex condom onto his penis and climbs on top of him.

“Oh my…you look so sexy right now…” Max finally opens his eyes and looks at Madeline’s beautiful face. “I’ve dreamt of this moment ever since I first met you.”

Madeline slowly lowers herself onto Max’s erection. Facing him “cowgirl style,” she finally takes in his entire penis and deliberately sways back and forth. Her client groans and grabs her fists. Holding hands, Madeline rides him like a stallion until Max sniffs something unusual in the air.

“Um, do you smell that?”

Madeline stops making love to him and raises her nose. She sniffs and shakes her head.

“I have a bad sense of smell. Sorry ‘bout that,” she concedes. “However, it is getting a bit humid in here. I think I have the A/C turned on…”

She resumes making love to Max by raising and lowering her pelvis. Unfortunately, he’s distracted by the distinct odor of smoke filling the room.

“I think something’s on fire…maybe not here, but somewhere else,” he says.

“It’s getting hot in here,” she concedes. “That I can tell. That is rather strange.”

Hot in here - fire

A firefighter doing what they do best.

All of a sudden, a loud blaring noise bursts through the building. Ear-piercing and relentless, Madeline and Max immediately know what this sound signifies. It’s the fire alarm!

“Fuck! You’re right!” Madeline screams. “Something is on fire! Fuuuuuuuck!!!”

Both of them jump out of bed and run toward the door. A voice cracks across the PA system – neither Madeline nor Max knew the motel had a PA system to begin with – announcing:

“Attention guests and staff! This is not a drill. There is a fire in the building. Please leave your rooms immediately and head to the nearest exit now!”

Still naked, Madeline and Max don’t think about their nude state because their survival instincts have kicked in. They burst through the door and sprint down the hallway. A small handful of other people are doing the same. At the far side of the hallway is an emergency exit that leads to the south parking lot. A sea of desperate human beings surge through the door to escape certain doom.

White smoke fills the hallways. Nobody running saw it, but an orange glow can be seen pouring out of a door marked “Employees Only” at the opposite side of the building. The sprinkler system has activated, soaking everyone in its path.

“Run for your life!” Madeline shouts.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Max exclaims to anyone who is willing to listen.

Moments later the motel parking lot is full of a few dozen people in various states of dress. One young woman is topless. A little girl has no pants on. A middle-aged businessman is wearing only a towel, evident that he’d been taking a shower when the fire alarm started to shriek. Most of the people don’t have shoes on. The five motel employees are fully clothed of course, but that’s to be expected. Madeline and Max are the only two who are completely naked.

“My God, the whole damn building is on fire! Look!!!” a random person in the crowd yells. Sure enough, smoke is seen rising out of several windows on the west-facing side of the building. In the distance the reassuring sound of fire trucks racing to the scene can be heard by everyone present.

Now that the hysteria has died down and everyone has regained their mental bearings, everyone looks around at the crowd that has assembled in the parking lot. All eyes are on Madeline and Max.

“Mommy, look! That boy is naked!” a small boy blurts out. “Is that another boy with him? Or is that a girl…?”

Hot in here - fire truck

A firetruck.

It’s not every day you see a gorgeous nude female bodybuilder and a short nerdy nude young man standing side-by-side in plain sight. Not to mention a young man with a condom rolled on his (miraculously) still-erect penis. The frenzied life-and-death atmosphere has not dissipated his arousal, apparently. A crowd of random people have gathered near the building since the smoke can be seen for miles. Half the people are looking at the motel that’s burning to the ground…but the other half are fixated on Madeline and Max.

“Holy shit…” Max mutters under his breath. His penis has deflated considerably, with the condom hanging on the tip. “People can see us!”

Madeline, on the other hand, is enjoying the attention. She strikes a few poses, proudly showcasing her nude muscular body. A few onlookers cheer. Others have deliberately moved away to avoid participating in this “scene.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Max! We can put on a little show before the fire department arrives!” Madeline’s side chest pose elicits a “damn girl!” reaction out of someone. One young woman looks at Max’s little penis and giggles.

The crowd disperses after four large fire trucks arrive to the parking lot. Ten minutes later everyone moves to the sidewalk as the first responders courageously do their job. Madeline impulsively picks up Max, holds him up over her head, and pauses for pictures. Several people – mostly men – take out their phones and snap a few shots of this unlikely couple. Max still feels embarrassed, but strangely…

…empowered.

A firefighter offers both of them a blanket to cover up their nude bodies. They graciously accept it. People have switched their focus away from the couple and toward the flaming building. Thankfully, the fire seems to be relatively small. It shouldn’t take too long to tame it.

Hot in here - Lindsay Mulinazzi

Can you imagine what it would be like to see Lindsay Mulinazzi dressed like this walking down a busy sidewalk?

“Still want to go all the way, darling?” Madeline whispers into Max’s ear.

“Uh, really? Now? Where can…”

Before he could finish that sentence, Madeline sweeps up Max into her strong arms and carries him to the back side of the building. She eyes a large recycling dumpster and plops him on his feet behind it. Away from prying eyes, Madeline notices the condom is still hanging off the tip of his penis.

“You still have it on. That’s cute!”

Max blushes and turns beet red. Sensing his vulnerability, Madeline kisses him and rolls the condom back on. Max feels his manhood become erect again. Then, Madeline turns around, places her hands on the wall, and bends over – exposing her moist entrance to him.

“Take me.”

Without hesitating, Max enters Madeline slowly. A soft groan escapes from her throat. Gaining confidence, he grabs her hips and moves in and out of her; leisurely at first, then more rapidly as his pleasure intensifies.

“Fuck, yeah…” Madeline moans. Max quickens his pace as his orgasm builds. Madeline bends her knees slightly to adjust to his short stature. Standing at a striking 6’ 1” barefoot, most guys are shorter than her. Especially Max. Making love doggie style can be difficult if she doesn’t lower herself to the man she’s with.

“Oh, yes!” Max growls.

He climaxes hard, sending chills throughout his whole body. Madeline doesn’t come, but she doesn’t need to. She gets enough pleasure from knowing her clients are receiving pleasure. After his spasms subside, he pulls out of her and violently turns Madeline around to face him. She’s surprised by this sudden move. He stands on his toes and kisses her. When their lips part, she kneels down and takes the condom off his deflated penis. She tosses it into the garbage dumpster and orally cleans him. After she finishes they kiss again.

Moments later, Madeline and Max walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk in plain view of the entire city as naked as the day they were born. They cheerfully give the blanket back to a random firefighter, who is stunned at what he’s witnessing.

“What the fuck?” he exclaims.

The naked couple continues to walk away from the scene, which by now has been successfully contained. They don’t know where they’re going or if a police officer will arrest them for indecent exposure. But they don’t care. All they care about is sharing this moment together and making it last as long as they can.