FBB Video Review #1: Denise Masino and the Leopard Dress

A new recurring feature I’m going to introduce in 2020 is FBB Video Reviews, in which I break down a sexy video featuring a female bodybuilder (or two, or three, or four) doing her thing. The videos could be ones that I personally love or they could come from reader suggestions.

Have a suggestion of one I should review? Email me at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. Or you can let me know in the comments below. Whichever you prefer.

For our maiden voyage, let’s dive into one featuring the incomparable Denise Masino. It should be no secret that Denise is my favorite female bodybuilder of all time. She’s amazing beyond words. One can never succinctly describe why she’s so incredible to behold. But she is nevertheless. Denise is sexy, smart, savvy, affable, and delivers exactly what her fans crave. That’s a lethal combination that not too many of her peers can match. A few do, but they’re few and far between.

This particular video looks to have been produced by Denise Masino herself. In today’s world, that seems to be the best bet when you want to create content that fits your own preferred style and tone. You can see more content like this if you become a subscriber on her website.

Watch Video

0:00 – Right off the bat, we see Denise wearing a sexy leopard skin dress that generously shows off her strong arms, thick meaty legs, and curvy feminine figure. She appears to be on the porch of someone’s house (her home or someone else’s residence? Who knows…) in broad daylight. Whether a neighbor was able to sneak a peek at the filming of this video is unknown. If a lucky bastard was able to crouch behind a kitchen window and watch the action unfold, more power to him!

The residence appears to be by a lake, so maybe an alligator was able to witness it all.

0:21 – The lighting isn’t ideal, which probably means the camera’s auto exposure adjustment feature wasn’t working yet. But we are distracted by Denise waving to us. It’s a miracle we haven’t died from cardiac arrest yet.

0:26 – Oh good. The camera’s exposure finally kicks in. We can now see Denise in her full glory!

0:32 – The camera moves down toward the floor and we can clearly see she isn’t wearing any panties. Yowza! It’s difficult to make out what her bits look like, but we’ll eventually find out.

One side note about the music. Yes, the music in porn is much maligned and often parodied. But in this case, it works on a thematic level. The music is upbeat, positive, and not necessarily sexually charged. It communicates openness, fun, and a casual spirit of joy. This video is also filmed outdoors in broad daylight. Not in a dark dungeon or BDSM-themed room. There are no dramatic lighting choices or distracting music. It blends into the background. Denise wants us to relax and enjoy the moment. She allows her body to take centerstage. That’s the only thing that we need to focus on. And it’s safe to say that we definitely are!

1:06 – Denise flexes her arms for us, reminding her audience that she’s a bodybuilder, not just a sexy lady who’s currently performing in an erotic video. The vein popping out of her arm is hard to not notice. When she flexes her left bicep, we instantly know that Denise is a genuinely strong woman – both literally and figuratively. The way she makes her bicep dance up and down is both tantalizing and hypnotic.

2:00 – I’m not into feet, but anyone who happens to be are in for a real treat. Lots of guys are really turned on by this sort of thing, but not me. But hey, I don’t judge. Whatever you’re into is cool with me! I’m in no position to judge someone on their personal fetish.

2:34 – Though I’m not into feet, I am into legs. Holy mackerel! Those heels bring out her calves, hamstrings, and quads like nothing else. I don’t know if she could crush a watermelon between her thighs, but I’d sure like to one day find out.

3:07 – We start to see a bit more of what Denise possesses between her gorgeous legs. Things are still covered up with her dress, but she’s definitely not shy about letting us know that her feminine bits are just as intriguing as the rest of her. She’s got big muscles, but she’s also got alluring stuff where the sun doesn’t traditionally shine. Perhaps soon the sun will in fact shine down there…

3:10 – Our first close-up of Denise’s nether regions. I can sense my heart attack building up inside my nervous system. It’s only a matter of time before my next-door neighbor needs to call an ambulance on my behalf. Maybe the paramedics and I can watch this video together.

4:14 – I’m not sure how comfortable that pose is, but we’re sure enjoying the view! That’s the life of a supermodel, though. You’re constantly forced to contort your body in all sorts of disjointed positions for the sake of getting that perfect sexy shot. We’re all thankful for it, even though it’s probably a pain in the ass to maintain. For that level of commitment, we are eternally grateful.

4:24 – Her top finally comes off, revealing her full breasts and perky nipples. If you need further mental reinforcement that Denise is in fact a feminine woman – and that muscular development does not turn a woman into a man or into a masculine lady – this should be it. Need more persuasion that big muscles on a woman can be incredibly sensual?

4:43 – Our first prominent shot at Denise’s labia. If you aren’t familiar with Miss Masino’s past work, this image may come as a shock to you. If you are already familiar with her, this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. It’s her calling hard. Her prized possession. Her most famous asset. It’s the part of her that makes us return to her again and again. You will see why a little later.

5:17 – The way she’s stroking it almost looks like she’s preparing it for action. She isn’t masturbating yet. This is almost like “pre-masturbation,” or priming the pump. She’s warming up. She’s casually tossing the football back and forth to her receivers right before kick-off, loosening up her arm in anticipation of the Big Game. But her sport is much different than football, baseball, or basketball. MUCH different!

5:45 – Finally, she’s completely naked! Took her long enough. I was worried there for a while. Totally concerned.

Not really. But whatever. You get my drift.

5:51 – This is our first shot of her entire nude body. This is her. This is Denise. She’s not hiding anything. Her position implies that she’s consciously on full display. Like a priceless marble statue at The Louvre, Miss Masino wants the whole world to see her for who she is. She’s not holding back anymore. No more modesty. This is where Denise announces to the world that she’s a work of art in flesh form. She’s an artist and her own body is her canvas. The dumbbells at the gym are her paintbrush. Her food, supplements, protein shakes, and workout regimen are her paint. She’s a modern-day Michelangelo and this small backyard porch is the Sistine Chapel.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

6:04 – I love how carelessly and unceremoniously her leopard skin dress is strewn on the floor. It’s like an inconvenience, an afterthought, a minor annoyance. It’s like a large drape covering up the Venus de Milo. It’s a useless piece of fabric that’s preventing us from seeing Denise for who she really is. Or, it’s an oppressive cloth that acts as a proverbial set of handcuffs that holds back Denise’s true nature. Her body deserves to be seen. It’s divine. It defies description. To cover it up is to deny her body its very purpose. To cover it up is akin to burning a book or pouring an expensive bottle of wine down the drain. It’s a terrible waste and demonstrates a blatant disregard for why it exists. Yeah, this is probably a bit too hyperbolic, but Denise Masino has the unique ability to draw that type of attitude out of me.

6:19 – Oh, how pink it is! Now I can discuss this in further detail. Denise’s most famous asset – one that is arguably her moneymaker – is her genitalia. Yes, that sounds odd to say aloud. But it’s 100% true. Her bright pink vagina, thick dark brown labia, and shockingly enormous clitoris are what endear her to her legion of fans. Her prominent genitalia are important for many reasons, but this is chief among them: It proves that women are autonomous sexual beings who are just as entitled to enjoy their bodies as men are.

Denise demonstrates that women are not merely men who lack a penis. They have their own set of genitalia that are unique to them and serve a specific function. The fact that Denise’s bits are larger and more pronounced exemplifies this point. She’s fully capable of experiencing sexual pleasure all by herself, with or without a man (or woman, or whomever). Her vagina isn’t merely an organ that serves the purpose of accepting a man’s penis during intercourse. Her vagina – and the rest of her genitals – can also serve the purpose of providing her pleasure. Reproduction is one purpose. Pleasure is another purpose. Both are legitimate and should be respected. Her large genitalia make this point better than any academic paper could.

7:01 – Denise is inviting us to take a closer look. Don’t mind if we do!

She spreads her labia wide, letting us see the inside of her vagina. If you don’t feel like an amateur OB-GYN, you should by now. Her motioning us to take a closer look is exactly that. An invitation to take a closer look. As opposed to an invitation to enter her sexually through intercourse. I’ve noted before that Denise is unique in that she rarely ever does videos with other men. In fact, I cannot recall ever seeing one like that. Most of her self-produced videos show her just by herself doing solo activities. Occasionally, she’ll have a scene partner or two. But 99.9% of the time, her scene partner(s) are other women. Usually female bodybuilders like her.

Her reluctance (or refusal) to do scenes with men is a personal choice that also works on a strategic level. Because no other men are present on screen with her, we can vicariously insert ourselves into the scene. We can be her imaginary lover. Our fantasy isn’t spoiled by the image of another guy (or multiple guys) doing the deed with her. Rather, we can fantasize in peace knowing we can easily put ourselves in that position without some random dude bro ruining it for us.

So when she motions us to come closer, she’s either telling us to literally take a closer look at her intimate parts or she’s inviting us to fantasize what it would be like to be intimately with her. Either way, it works.

7:38 – This is when things get really, really exciting (as if it hasn’t already). Denise is poking at her erect clit. The size is both eye-popping and shocking. How can a woman get that big? Is it from years of taking steroids? Human growth hormones? Lifting weights? Or was she born this way? I do not claim to know the answer to these questions, but I can guess that drugs played a significant role here. Whatever. The one thing we know for sure is that it isn’t a penis. Denise Masino is a woman. Period, end of story. She isn’t a man. She isn’t trans. Her gender isn’t ambiguous in any way. That large endowment located between her legs is a very large clitoris, not a tiny penis. Even if you are giving her the benefit of the doubt, one cannot help but notice that the shape of her clit resembles the head of a penis. After all, the penis and clitoris are biologically analogous, so that’s not an inaccurate perception. But nevertheless, we know what she has. It ain’t masculine. It’s undeniably feminine.

8:00 – The tip of her clit looks to be the same size as her index finger. Quite impressive!

8:10 – It’s worth noting that Denise doesn’t normally choose to shave or “tide up” her pubic hair. She allows it to remain as is. Lots of porn performers – male and female – shave their pubic hair so that their genitals can be better seen. It also looks cleaner and sexier. But Denise is different. She wants her thick bushy pubic hair to be part of her. She’s telling her audience that she’s not a little girl. She’s not a traditional porn actress. She’s a fully-grown woman. And fully-grown women have pubic hair down there.

Her act of defiance of remaining “bushy” conveys that Denise is an adult who caters to other adults. She’s not interested in immature man-babies coming her way. She wants adult men and women who will enjoy her for who she is to ride the Denise Train. I don’t know about you, but I got my first-class ticket in hand!

8:14 – This is the moment Denise starts stroking her engorged clit with her thumb and index finger. Remarkably, Denise is able to jerk off like a man. Granted, she’s using two fingers instead of her entire hand, but that’s beside the point. How many biologically feminine women can jerk off like Denise is doing here? “Very few” is the answer.

But let’s be clear about one thing: This isn’t Denise “acting like a man.” No, this is a case of Denise acting like a woman while doing an activity that we traditionally associated with men. Women can “jerk off” too if they have the right sized equipment. Clearly, Denise has that at her disposal.

9:24 – Denise continues to stroke her clit. Is she actually bringing herself to orgasm? Eh, maybe. Maybe not. I’d guess she’s truly enjoying it, but not that much. But I could be wrong. Nobody is under the impression that porn accurately portrays real life. It’s about fantasy more than reality. Whether or not Denise is experiencing actual orgasms is secondary to how we feel watching her stroke that beautiful clit up and down. We feel a tremendous amount of eroticism. And that’s the whole point. She’s completing her objectives like a pro.

9:50 – For the first time, we hear Denise speak! She instructs us to “Jerk with me. Jerk it…jerk it.” Denise is usually more vocal in her videos, so this is a rare instance when she remains fairly silent. Some people prefer to cut the unnecessary chatter in porn videos (mostly because the “dialogue” written for such scenes is unbearably awful), but Denise is a different cat. She’s smart, funny, engaging, personable, and likable. You root for her. So you don’t mind if she talks directly to you. It’s like she’s your best friend. A very sexy best friend, that is.

10:18 – More glorious orgasms. Keep ‘em coming! Yes, pun intended.

10:31 – Denise keeps things low key. She doesn’t scream bloody murder when she climaxes or writhes around violently like a demon-possessed child in The Exorcist. Her breathing quickens and she’ll moan at a low volume. Nothing over-the-top. That’s classic Denise. She’s sexy, but she doesn’t “impose” her sexiness on you. She lets her natural self speak for itself. And that’s enough. Subtlety is an art she’s perfected.

10:49 – Once again, we are reminded at how well-endowed she is. Oof!

10:57 – I wonder how she tastes? Probably like fine wine. Unfortunately, I’ll never find out. But I can dream, can I?

11:08 – After a few nice orgasms, Denise decompresses by slowly strokes her labia. She’s satisfied, satiated, and situated finely to take a long nap. After all, she deserves it! As enthralled as we’ve been, we need to let off some steam too. I wonder how…

***

So that’s that. My first FBB Video Review in the bag! I’m unsure if I’ll go quite into so much observational detail moving forward. But anything is possible.

Once again, please email me or let me know below if you have suggestions of other videos I should break down moment-by-moment. This video was a bit longer than most at 11:21. But that doesn’t mean I can’t review others that are of similar length. They just have to be compelling enough.

I hope you had just as much fun as I did. Happy New Year!

Isabelle Turell: Partying Like a Female Muscle Rock Star

Isabelle Turell can party with me anytime.

Some female bodybuilders are accused of “not being feminine enough.” Other female bodybuilders are accused of “being a little too feminine.” It’s impossible to please everybody, so there’s no need to try, right?

Right. But people have their preferences – and they are perfectly entitled to their preferences, the consequences be damned. We all can name our “favorite” female bodybuilder without thinking about it, though some of us may need to include 4 or 5 just to be on the safe side. While the Holy Grail FBB – someone who exhibits a flawless mixture of muscularity, beauty, femininity, and attitude – may not actually exist, one lady in particular comes to mind as someone who’s really darn close.

Isabelle Turell.

Isabelle is a rare woman whose impressive muscle mass doesn’t distract from the rest of her qualities. She’s stunningly gorgeous, curvy, oozes with sexiness, and can make you drop dead in your tracks if you ever saw her. She also has a nerdy side to her that she isn’t shy about sharing with the world. We are blessed to have her around.

She is a multifaceted woman who offers more than you’d think…but at the same time not as much as you’d like. She isn’t complicated, but she isn’t easy to understand. You want her to be a certain way but she won’t go there, yet she delivers exactly what she needs to deliver without disappointing anyone.

More on this later.

Isabelle Turell was born on October 22, 1979 in Tampa, Florida. She currently resides in Terre Haute, Indiana. She’s been an IFBB Pro Bodybuilder since 2008. Her actual bodybuilding career began in 2000 when she competed at the Orlando Classic, demonstrating that “turning pro” isn’t a task to be taken lightly. Her competition history is impressive, having competed at the NPC USA Championship, Ms. International, Wings of Strength, Arnold Classic, Tampa Pro, Omaha Pro, Atlantic City Women’s Pro, Rising Phoenix Arizona Pro, Lenda Murray Classic Pro, and many other regional tournaments. She isn’t just another typical competitor. She’s a serious heavyweight who deserves respect within the industry.

Is she considered “elite?” Eh, not quite. But she’s a prominent figure in the IFBB world and has accomplished things many of us – male or female – cannot even dream of doing. When she isn’t competing, Isabelle provides fitness consulting services and additional information/content if you become a paying member of her website. In this respect, Isabelle earns her living in the same way hundreds of other FBBs earn their living. It goes with the territory.

Isabelle is one of the most multi-faceted female bodybuilders around. One moment she could be wearing a BDSM-themed leather mask and looking to fulfill every single one of your femdom bondage fantasies. The next moment she’s cosplaying as The Hulk or Ghost Rider. She’s part dominatrix, part nerd, part sex kitten, and part world-class athlete with intrigue, class, and mysteriousness sprinkled in throughout.

There’s something about Isabelle that appeals to everyone. She has Amber Deluca’s Powerful Female Muscle Dominatrix vibe but can also pull off Denise Masino’s Fun and Sometimes Nerdy Lady Bodybuilder personality. She appeals to the hardcore fetishists who fantasize about being controlled, dominated, and humiliated by a strong sexy woman; while at the same time her chiseled physique compares favorably to Alina Popa.

She’s fun for the whole family. Assuming your family is into this sort of thing.

Her personality is guarded, so you don’t feel like you know her intimately like you do Denise. Miss Masino could be your best friend or drinking buddy. Isabelle is that cool chick you met at a party once and still exchange an occasional dirty text message with. Miss Turell is certainly sexy but she doesn’t overtly flaunt it like her peers. She lets the little bit of her that she chooses to make public speak for itself. Whether this is intentional or not, Isabelle leaves you wanting more while delivering exactly what she needs to deliver.

The one thing Isabelle won’t deliver to her fans is hardcore porn. That’s not in her repertoire. She’s more than happy being sexy, but she’ll flaunt her sexiness with limitations. These limitations aren’t tragic, however. They’re her choice and we must respect that. But then again, it’s not completely necessary that she go that far in order to satisfy our desires to see her in her full glory.

Isabelle is in her “full glory” when we feel empowered to insert her into our dirtiest fantasies. One of the most intriguing parts of female muscle fandom is that female bodybuilders are able to activate our imaginations in unexplainable ways. We cannot help but think about all sorts of scenarios, circumstances, and erotic fantasies whenever we encounter an image of a beautiful woman with big muscles. Isabelle is no exception.

Isabelle cosplaying as Jessica Rabbit.

When we see a selfie of Isabelle’s smiling face that unashamedly shows off her prodigious cleavage, we cannot help but think about what it would be like to get a handful of her enormous breasts and caress them with tender care. Then our minds turn toward thinking of her with a whip in hand, a long strap-on dildo attached to her crotch, and a leather BDSM mask that accentuates her gorgeous brown eyes. Or, we imagine her as our personal trainer. She pushes us harder and beyond our limits, and generously rewards our killer workout with further, uh, strenuous cardiovascular activities in the gym hot tub.

Or, we see a photo of Isabelle in a bikini and instantly place ourselves on that particular beach with her. Every muscle fiber is on clear display. Not a single soul is in sight. The sun is starting to set, which adds to the urgency of the moment. You kiss her deeply as the waves crash against the shore. Then, Isabelle quickly discards her bikini and stands before you in her Birthday Suit. She looks tantalizing. She invites you to disrobe. You do. Then, you make magic on the beach and end up with sand in every crevice of your body. Then, you make more magic. And more. And more. Finally, totally spent, you walk hand-in-hand with her across the beach as the bright moonlight illuminates the romantic scene.

Or, you look at a fun cosplay pic of Isabelle dressed up as the She-Hulk. Her skin is a brilliant green. You can see every curve of her muscular figure. You imagine what it would be like to be a scientist conducting an “experiment” on her. By day, Isabelle is a shy intern who can barely lift a box of copy paper. But when she gets really angry, she transforms into the She-Hulk! Now, she can bust through a drywall just by throwing her fist through it. And she can lift a car and toss it a hundred feet away without breaking a sweat. You know you shouldn’t make her angry too often, but what the heck? It couldn’t hurt too much! And if it does, so be it.

Or, you scroll through Isabelle’s Instagram page and see her wearing an elegant black cocktail dress. She looks classy and ravishing at the same time. You take her out to dinner at the finest restaurant in the city. All eyes are on her. Nobody can ignore her. It’s not every day that you see a gorgeous sexy woman with bulging muscles strut around like she owns the place. In a way, she does own the place. She owns every environment she finds herself in, to be exact. You enjoy a lovely date night with her, chuckling to yourself as the waitstaff struggles to keep their composure (and focus) as they serve you your meal. It’s quite a sight to behold!

These fantasies – and hundreds more like them – are typical of many fans of female bodybuilders. We aren’t just attracted to women with big muscles. We’re intoxicated by the alluring fantasies they conjure up in our minds. Isabelle Turell, more than any other FBB in the world, elicits this exact reaction in us. She can play any part we give her. That’s the key to understanding her appeal. She can be the sexy wife, domineering mistress, nerdy girlfriend, hardcore personal trainer, elite athlete, world-class celebrity, Divine Muscle Goddess, supermodel, inspirational gym rat, or quirky friend. She can effortlessly play all those roles. Perhaps multiple roles at once, if your imagination is that wild.

She can be anything you want her to be. And that’s why we cannot get enough of her. And that’s why she doesn’t have to be (or do) anything else than what she already is. We don’t need her to be like Yvette Bova, Kathy Connors, or Brandi Mae Akers and produce the kinkiest porn on the Internet. We don’t need her to go outside of her comfort zone or do anything she doesn’t feel like doing. She can just be herself and our minds will do the rest. She gives us enough. And that is enough. No more is required of her.

Isabelle is a fun gal who loves her life and enjoys brightening up the spirits of her fans. She certainly has loyal devotees who breathlessly await her next Instagram post. Will it be one of her pretty face? One that shows off her cleavage? One where we see her flex her enormous biceps? Or a video where she poses for us as if we were the only human being on planet Earth? Which will it be?

Her IG name is fitrockstar. This is fitting. Like most classic rock stars (which seem to be in short supply these days), Isabelle is the life of the party. Her extravagant life is just as interesting as what she does for a living. We aren’t just fascinated by “Isabelle Turell the Professional Bodybuilder.” We’re addicted to “Isabelle Turell the Unstoppable Muscle Goddess.” She cannot be stopped. She cannot be contained. She’s living her best life and we’re simply going along for the ride. We don’t know where we’re going, but that’s none of our concern. We’re just happy to be onboard the Isabelle Train.

Is she taking us to a crowded gymnasium? A bodybuilding competition stage? A bondage dungeon? A sweaty weight room? A secluded beach? A cozy cottage? A luxurious penthouse suite? A fancy 5-star restaurant? A photography studio where all eyes are on her?

We can go to all of those places. Whenever we want to. Because when we think about Isabelle, we can easily place ourselves in any situation. And we’ll feel right at home with her.

Whew! Need more evidence why we love her so damn much? Didn’t think so.

Oh Isabelle. Lovely Isabelle. A sweet princess. A devilish queen. An omnipotent goddess. No matter what she chooses to do next, we’ll be there. Hungry. Wanting more. But not needing more. Because she’s enough. She’s always enough.

The Scantily Clad but Not Quite Nude Female Bodybuilder

Cindy is such a tease.

Is it possible for a female bodybuilder to be more beautiful than when she’s nude?

After all, it’s when we are able to see her in her full glory. Nothing hidden from view. Everything she has laid out bare. All her hard work, sacrifices, perfections, imperfections, and insecurities out in the open. She is vulnerable, yet invulnerable at the same time.

Being nude is a female bodybuilder’s natural state. That isn’t to say that all female bodybuilders are also nudists, however. “Nudism” is a cultural movement that seeks to advocate for and normalize nude social activities. That’s a separate thing unrelated to our discussion here. What we’re talking about is that in order for someone to see a female bodybuilder for who she really is, one must look at her when she’s naked. From head to toe. Then, you can see who she really is. This is when her true identity comes out.

Every curve, every muscle fiber, every square inch of her uniquely structured body on full display. She is hiding nothing because there is nothing to hide. She isn’t ashamed to reveal her life’s work, her masterpiece, her artistry. She is an artist and her body is her canvas.

Yet, that is not always when a female bodybuilder is at her most alluring. As strange as this may sound, an FBB might be at her most intriguing when she’s scantily clad – but not quite nude.

Uh, what?

Now, this may sound crazy. Okay, it flat out sounds crazy. But don’t tune out quite yet. Think of it this way:

Throughout the history of humankind, the practice of wearing clothes has almost been universal. Some primitive cultures that exist in hot tropical environments may not wear very much, but they at least cover up the “essentials.” But by and large, you get the idea. All people wear clothes most of the time – at least in public. You don’t need to be a literal believer in the Adam and Eve story to understand this.

Africa Carey (a.k.a. Coco Crush) showing us just enough of her immaculate beauty.

The Book of Genesis notwithstanding, the tendency to wear clothes is based on the assumption that the human body isn’t meant to be seen in full. And it’s not just because it’s cold in the winter. Nudity implies sexuality, even though the two are not synonymous. Nudity exposes genitals, which is central to reproductive activities. Enthusiasts of nudism (or naturism) would vehemently argue that there is nothing inherently sexual or dirty about the human body, even in nude form. That’s certainly debatable, but we cannot ignore that from our society’s point of view, nudity and sexuality are intimately intertwined.

Try not to visualize the words “intimately intertwined.”

So, we’ve decided that the taboo associated with nudity is both understandable and probably, if we’re being honest here, justified. Maybe not completely justified, but justified enough that we’d feel really, really uncomfortable if we learned that our kid’s kindergarten teacher took off her own bra during a makeshift anatomy lesson. That would be weird. Very weird.

But there are definitely variations of nudity that must be acknowledged. Nudity is a continuum, not a black or white matter. On one end of the spectrum we have someone wearing a hazmat suit, ready to clean up after an unfortunate nuclear spill. On the other end we have drunk college kids parading around the street naked in preparation for Mardi Gras. And everything in between. Let’s talk for a moment about what exists in the middle.

Generally speaking, what is the most amount of nudity a person can show in public and not get arrested for indecent exposure? For both men and women, it’s covering up the genitals. For women, it’s also covering up the nipples. Bare butts are discouraged, but acceptable depending on where you are specifically.

Cancun on spring break? Get cheeky with it.

Wading through a public pool at the senior center? Eh, don’t stick out too much if you can avoid it. For everyone’s sake.

God bless America, Kati Alander.

Alright, so no genitals, no bare butts (for the most part), and no female nipples. Got it. Is this fair? Probably not, but it is what it is. At least, this is the way it is for now. There is a hashtag trending on social media called #FreeTheNipple that’s being used to protest Facebook and Instagram’s policy of censoring female nipples. The argument is that if men are allowed to show their nipples without punishment, then women should be allowed the same courtesy. It remains to be seen how effective this awareness campaign will be.

But at the end of the day, this isn’t really a discussion about social standards. This is more about what we find to be erotically pleasing versus what will or will not land us in jail for a night.

Here’s a strange question: What’s more erotic, a nude female bodybuilder or a female bodybuilder wearing sexy lingerie?

Hm. This may seem obvious at first, but later it gets complicated the more you think about it. Yes, a fully nude female bodybuilder is a fantastic sight to see. That same FBB wearing lingerie or a bikini isn’t the same because you don’t see all of her. You see most of her, but not everything. She’s scantily clad, but not quite nude. Yet, as odd as this sounds, the latter is much more intriguing than the former.

A female bodybuilder wearing lingerie, a negligee, a bikini, shorts and gym bra, a towel, a cocktail dress, a blanket draped over her body, or her own hands covering up certain parts intrigues us because we see enough to get a great idea of what she looks like without getting the satisfaction of seeing everything she has to offer. We see her curves, musculature, striations, bulging mounds of flesh, and deep grooves. We see how hard she must work day-in and day-out to attain and maintain that physique. We see her sacrifices. We see her dedication on full display. However, we don’t see the intimate parts of her that she’s chosen not to reveal. And that point cannot be emphasized enough: she’s choosing to not reveal certain parts of her. And that’s perfectly okay, no matter how frustrating it may be for the rest of us.

Maybe she’s covering up certain parts of her because she doesn’t want to get censored or kicked off certain social media platforms. Or for her, full nudity is a bridge too far. The best example of this is Cindy Landolt. Cindy is one of the most beautiful women on planet Earth. She’s stunning. She’s absolutely gorgeous. She’s flawless. She’s a perfect demonstration that muscles do not compromise a woman’s femininity. In fact, muscles can enhance your femininity. For Cindy, her curvy muscles exemplify her feminine identity.

I cannot stop staring at Kim Birtch’s piercing eyes.

Cindy does not do full nudity. Ever. At least, not yet. And that is 100 percent her choice. She can choose to never ever show us her nipples or genitals. As much as we fans want her to “go all the way,” it’s her right to not do that. She is under no obligation to do so. No matter how much we beg her, if she stands firm and goes her entire career without going full nude, we just have to live with it. And we have no reason to feel slighted by her. She showcases her beauty in plenty of other ways. Her contribution to the world speaks for itself. Period.

In a way, Cindy’s choice to never do graphic nudity works to her advantage. It’s a “Holy Grail” of sort that her fans will clamor for as long as they live. It keeps our imaginations running wild. It teases us. Our hormones go into overdrive fantasizing about what Miss Landolt really looks like. Are her nipples long? Pink or brown? What does her clit look like? Is it large like Denise Masino’s clit, or is it normal-sized?

We will never know. Only Cindy’s lover knows. And he is one hell of a lucky guy!

Our continual fascination with Cindy’s mysterious bits makes her that much more alluring. It makes her seem otherworldly. We know she’s a real-life human being, but in the back of our minds we still suspect she’s either a robot constructed from an FBB fan’s wildest dreams or an animated “deep fake” character illustrated by a basement full of horny guys. The same goes for any FBB who chooses to forego full nudity.

It makes them appear more “classy.” That isn’t to say that FBBs – or any model, for that matter – who proudly show us everything God has given them are classless or filthy. They still deserve our respect and admiration. Angela Salvagno isn’t trashy because she leaves nothing to the imagination while Minna Pajulahti keeps things more guarded. Both women are beautiful. Both are unbelievably sexy. Both are irresistible. One chooses to share her intimate parts with the world while the other sticks to keeping things PG-13. Nothing wrong with either choice.

But getting back to our more “modest” FBBs, not only do they let our imaginations run wild and keep us begging for more, they inadvertently make us view them as pieces of art rather than pieces of meat. That isn’t to say that those who choose to go full nude in photoshoots and videos are deserving of ridicule, judgement, or rudeness. Quite the contrary. No one deserves dehumanizing treatment, regardless of their life’s choices. But there is something to be said about an FBB who selectively reveals her body. She knows her body is a work of art and she’s deliberate on how patrons of her art view it.

By showing us just enough but not everything, it leaves us begging for more. It leaves our appetites fulfilled, but not satiated. We will continuously come back, hoping that today is the day when we get to experience everything we want to experience. And even if we go home empty handed, we can still be counted on to come back the next day.

The Scantily Clad But Not Quite Nude Female Bodybuilder is both a tease and a skilled strategist. She toys with her captive audience like an experienced burlesque performer. She flaunts just enough without giving her fans so much that they start to devalue her. This is a key point: FBBs who deny you full nudity are taking a stand. Maybe it’s a principled stand or perhaps it’s a moral one. Regardless, they know that if they “give in” and provide the public everything they ever wanted, deep down inside these fans will think differently about her…whether they know it or not.

Fair or unfair, as mentioned before we as a society associate nudity with sexuality. And sexuality is directly connected with reproduction, then pregnancy, and then motherhood. By being scantily clad, an FBB is challenging us to not think of her as a sex object, but instead as an athlete. After all, she’s showing us all we need to see: her big muscles. Do we actually need to see anything else?

Alina Popa has huge, beautifully sculpted muscles. I don’t need to see what her nipples or clit looks like. Those parts of her body are mutually exclusive from her biceps, triceps, forearms, back, shoulders, abdomen, glutes, quads, and calves. She proudly puts those parts of her on full display. I can clearly see how impressive her physique is without seeing her intimate parts.

Does Nat Rochner show up at the gym looking like this?

Heck, just pay attention to the language we use to describe an FBB’s body: We like looking at her glutes, not her butt. The word “butt” has a sexual connotation. “Glutes” does not. See the difference?

I already know everything I need to know about Cindy Landolt’s physique. Would I love to see more of her? Well, yes. But it’s not necessary. Her identity is set in stone. She’s a gorgeous feminine woman with big strong muscles. Period. I don’t need to see her private parts in order to sufficiently come up with that conclusion. All the evidence I need is already right there before me.

In other words, by de-emphasizing an FBB’s sexuality, we are fully able to see her for who she really is: a world-class athlete. That isn’t to say that we can’t see her as both a world-class athlete and as a sex object, but the latter has a pernicious way of overshadowing the former.

A female bodybuilder who shows us enough but not everything may not be intentional about this, but I’d wager a guess that she is. Many FBBs don’t want to be sex objects. They don’t think of themselves as strippers or porn stars. They identify as athletes first and everything else second. There’s nothing wrong with that. By wearing a simple bikini, I can see all her muscles and hard work on display. I don’t need the bikini to come off. If it does, I’m definitely not going to complain (obviously!), but it’s not essential. Her modesty – or lack of modesty – is her choice, not mine.

To conclude, a scantily clad female bodybuilder may not be sexier than a fully nude female bodybuilder, but that’s beside the point. The actual point is that how she chooses to present herself is an intentional strategy meant to influence how we view her. Whatever her reasons are for not going “all the way,” we will be left wanting more. Begging for more. Perhaps one day she’ll give us what we want, or maybe that day will never come. Either way, what happens is up to her.

I still stand by my original assessment that a female bodybuilder’s natural state is being nude. Nothing has changed. But this is more practical than philosophical. I’d love to see every single one of my favorite FBBs in their birthday suits. A few I have. Many I have not. While nude is how to best experience an FBB’s body, it’s not a requirement to learning how to appreciate her. What she allows us to see is sufficient, no matter how frustrated that makes us feel. If she wants us to know that she’s a strong, independent woman who takes risks, lives life to the fullest, and doesn’t care what her haters have to say, we can see that whether she’s wearing underwear, gym attire, jeans and tee-shirt, a sweatshirt, or nothing at all.

Jennifer Kennedy: The Defiant One

Don’t disrespect The Muscle Foxx!

Jennifer Kennedy is the female bodybuilder your Mom and Dad warned you about. The one who would confirm all your deeply held suspicions about the female bodybuilding industry and its competitors. The one who would be the living embodiment of all your fears about muscular women, steroids, gender roles, sexual orientation, identity, and sexual attraction. The one who gives you nightmares, but the fun kind of nightmares that you (sort of) enjoy.

Jenni is not for everyone. I once described Yvette Bova as someone who’s not everyone’s cup of tea. If that’s the case, then Jenni is a sour beverage that even a person crawling through a desert dying of thirst would politely refuse to drink. Miss Kennedy isn’t as polarizing as Miss Bova because Jenni isn’t very prolific in making career choices that might endear her to a small yet dedicated cohort of female muscle fans. More on that later. In fact, Jenni isn’t polarizing at all. There pretty much exists one singular opinion about her that doesn’t appear to be changing any time soon:

Thanks, but no thanks.

Ouch. If that sounds mean, it’s because it is. My personal opinion of her is not that, of course. I really like Jenni. Seriously. I do! She’s unapologetically sexy, doesn’t care what her critics think, and lives her life the way she wants to. How can you hate on that?

All of that being said, let’s address a few delicate caveats:

First, it’s no mystery why Jenni doesn’t appeal to even hardcore supporters of female bodybuilding. She isn’t blessed with the same natural beauty as Cindy Landolt or Jessica Williams. She has a “harder edged” face that will inevitably be blamed on years of using synthetic steroids. Her voice is lower than Barry White’s. She’s feminine-presenting, but any uneducated dolt still has a modicum of justification to question her gender identity.

These caveats don’t mean people have a legitimate reason to insult her. Far from it. Jenni deserves our respect. It’s true that you don’t have to like every female bodybuilder on planet Earth, but that doesn’t give you license to hurl slurs at them either. Jenni isn’t here for that crap. Neither am I.

So don’t call her a “tranny” or any other such derogatory label. Just don’t.

There are two types of FBBs I admire: Female bodybuilders who are naturally beautiful and completely shatter negative stereotypes about muscular women; and female bodybuilders who are not blessed with natural beauty but still confidently strut around as if they do – and don’t care what the so-called “haters” think. The first category is pretty obvious. Who doesn’t enjoy looking upon a gorgeous lady with big curvy muscles? But the latter is where you tend to lose a lot of people, even people who are normally on your side in these debates.

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Miss Kennedy obviously belongs in the second category. She’s defiant. She’s unabashed. She’s proud of who she is. Does she have deeply held insecurities about herself? Probably, yeah. Who doesn’t? But all in all, I’d bet my life’s savings (all $183 of it) that she’s comfortable in her own skin. Like Yvette, Maryse Manios, Roxanne Edwards, and Kathy Connors, Jenni realizes her fanbase is going to be much smaller than her peers. Heck, FBBs have a fairly narrow group of fans to begin with. These aforementioned ladies control an even smaller slice of that small slice. Yours truly may be one of the few people out there who are willing to toot their horns (interpret that as you will!).

However, unlike Yvette and Kathy, Jenni does a limited amount of porn. She’s done some, but not nearly as much as she could be. Kathy has established herself as being an Alpha Female who will dominate you and punish you if you’ve been naughty. Yvette presents herself as a sex-crazed muscle-bound hedonist who enjoys life to the fullest. In other words, they compensate for their lack of natural beauty by taking on public personas that people can easily latch onto (it should be noted that these personas don’t necessarily reflect who these women are in real life. They’re merely how they present themselves to the public). Jenni, to my knowledge, hasn’t really done that to the extent of these other ladies, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t done anything. Simply put, Jenni carries herself as a sultry seductive temptress who will lure you into her trap – and once she’s gotten ahold of you…you don’t want her to let go.

Jennifer Kennedy was born on June 25, 1976 in Michigan. She’s a personal trainer and webcam performer. After competing in gymnastics and track, she got hooked on weightlifting and hasn’t looked back since. She’s been participating in contests going back to at least 2011 (NPC National Championships). Most recently (as of this writing) she participated in the 2019 IFBB Omaha Pro. The Internet is a bit sparse when it comes to listing how she placed at these – and other – contests, so that’s too bad. Overall, it’s fair to say that Jennifer is a respectable competitor, but not elite. She belongs on stage with the best of the best, but she isn’t “the best” quite yet.

Perhaps one day she’ll get there! But for the time being, we’ll have to appreciate her for who she is, not who she’ll one day become.

It’s accurate to describe Jenni as “The Defiant One” This isn’t because she defies stereotypes or breaks down barriers. Rather, it’s because she adheres to stereotypes and doesn’t care if that bothers you. Women like Minna Pajulahti and Wendy Fortino shatter the preconceived notion that muscular women can’t also be beautiful, feminine, and desirable. Jenni isn’t going to do that at all, but that’s not why she’s defiant. She’s defiant because she fits every idiot’s preconceived notions about FBBs and wears them on her sleeve as a badge of honor.

“You’re right,” she may say. “I am not traditionally beautiful. I do have a masculine-looking face. My voice isn’t lyrical. Most guys don’t find me attractive. But, I guarantee you if you were to spend 5 minutes alone with me in my bedroom, you’ll be begging for more in no time!”

She’s the Green Eggs and Ham of female bodybuilders. Sam-I-Am thought he hated green eggs and ham because of how it looked. He stubbornly refused to try it because he had already made up his mind. Or he thought he had already made up his mind. But once he tried a single bite, his eyes were opened to the truth. As it turns out, he actually loves green eggs and ham. Sam-I-Am learned a valuable lesson that day: Don’t knock it unless you’ve tried it.

Also, don’t judge a book by its cover. So that’s two lessons in one day.

At first glance, you aren’t going to like Jenni. You’ll find her repulsive, disgusting, ugly, and hideous. But I can guarantee you that if you just give her a chance, she can change your mind. She can soften your hardened heart. You may end up liking her. Or loving her. Or being completely obsessed with her. Or at the very least, you’ll gain a newfound sense of respect for her. Either way, that’s an improvement.

Jenni isn’t monstrous. But to a closed-minded fool, she might as well be the next kaiju Godzilla battles against amidst the wreckage of a metropolitan city. But to someone with empathy, she’s a cool lady you shouldn’t underestimate.

Not liking Jenni doesn’t make you a misogynist or a Female-Bodybuilding-Fan-in-Name-Only (FBFINO?). Hating her, on the other hand, probably does.

You can not like her. But to be so quick to dismiss her? Yeah, lighten up buddy.

In a strange way, there’s something oddly courageous about Jenni. Something admirable. She performs for webcams. How can you do that unless you have confidence that there are people out there who would pay money to watch you? Obviously there are. Otherwise she wouldn’t be doing it. This proves that – even if the number is fairly small – Jenni has her fair share of fans. Maybe not as much as Denise Masino or Lindsay Mulinazzi, but enough to justify a modest income for her.

Jenni’s defiance is a key reason why that small slice of the FBB Appreciation Society (not a real thing, but play along with me here), which is already a small slice of the general population, loves her so much. It’s hard to say how many “dedicated” followers Jenni has, but it’s probably much larger than you think. Or to put it a different way, it’s not as small as you think. Regardless, Jenni has tapped into a niche that can properly be defined as a sub-niche within a niche:

The Scary-But-In-A-Hot-Kind-Of-Way Female Bodybuilder.

She embodies nearly every single negative stereotype you can think of when it comes to female bodybuilders. She also doesn’t appear to be very interested in remedying those negative perceptions in any way. This is because Jenni has perfected the art of turning a negative into a positive. Instead of trying to “fix” what’s wrong with her (and for the record, there’s absolutely nothing “wrong” with her in the first place) she embraces who she is and uses her already existing assets to her advantage. Her deep voice gives her a commanding presence. Her roughness strikes fear into your heart. Her muscles allow her to dominate you. Her unique appearance requires you to pay attention to her. Her “scariness” whips you into shape. Her peculiar mash-up of masculine and feminine qualities make her memorable. Her sexiness makes her, well, sexy.

None of those qualities are a detriment to her success. Could she be more successful if she were more, uh, “accessible” to a broader audience? Perhaps, yes. But how many conventionally beautiful muscle goddesses can you name off the top of your head? Probably dozens upon dozens, if not hundreds. But how many Muscle Queens of the Macabre Variety can you think of who make you both frightened and strangely aroused at the same time? How many of them make you feel nauseated…yet you admit you cannot look away no matter how hard you try?

We all know who can make us feel that way.

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Jenni is a lot like a schlocky horror movie. The horrific violence you see on the screen makes you sick to your stomach. You get queasy watching hapless teenagers get decapitated, disemboweled, dismembered, burned to a crisp, skinned alive, eaten alive, tortured, stabbed, drowned, sliced in half with a chainsaw, gutted with a fishing hook, smashed with a hammer, ripped from limb to limb with a machete, punctured with an arrow, beaten with a baseball bat, or shot in the genitals. But instead of running out of the movie theater screaming like a madman, you stay in your seat and watch the dreadfulness unfold right before your very eyes. It’s entertainment. Sick and twisted entertainment, but that’s what it is nevertheless. It’s simultaneously appalling and fun.

And you know what? There’s a small part of you that actually enjoys watching these things happen to these innocent people. You want to enjoy immoral pre-marital sex? Well, the price you pay is having your innards pulled out of your stomach shortly after your orgasm. For some desperate people, that might be a worthwhile tradeoff.

In a convoluted kind of way, Jennifer Kennedy is sort of like that. Sort of. She’s entertaining. She’s enthralling. She’s captivating. She’s intriguing. You want to see what she does next, even if your instincts tell you to turn it off and scrub your eyeballs with Clorox. You need to know who this woman is and what she’s all about. She’s enticing. Almost too enticing. You may feel a bit guilty when she starts to grow on you, but hey, what’s the harm in that?

Who cares? Nobody is going to judge you. Even if someone does, just ignore them and proceed living your life. After all, being fond of Jenni can be intoxicating. In a naughty sort of way, it almost makes you feel – oh, what’s that word again?

Oh yeah. Defiant.

5 More Types of Female Muscle Porn that We Cannot Resist

I promised at the end of this post that I might follow it up with additional suggestions of types of female muscle-themed porn that we need right now. Alas, I did not disappoint. Unlike a lot of my fiction stories that I begin and – ahem – don’t always finish, I try not to do that with my nonfiction essays.

Naturally, all of you are welcomed to provide your thoughts in the comments below or to send me a private email message at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. I’m always up for starting a conversation with a fellow female muscle lover!

So I’ve been doing some further pondering and came up with 5 more types of female muscle porn that we cannot resist – nor do we want to resist. I’m including things I personally enjoy (obviously), but also threw in a few that I’m not really into, but I know for a fact many of you are into. It’s always courteous to be conscientious of your audience.

Denise Masino and Amber DeLuca enjoying each other’s company.

  1. A full hour muscle worship session between two FBBs

We all know about the gloriousness of muscle worship sessions. It’s the opportunity to be able to intimately touch the hard muscles of a real-life female bodybuilder for an hour or two. It’s the closest you can possibly get to meeting and experiencing an FBB’s unique allure. So nothing more about this needs to be explained.

However, how hot would it be to watch two female bodybuilders worshipping each other?

Wow. Uh, wow. That would be something else.

Imagine watching two gorgeous ripped beauties in a room together. No cheesy music. No distracting pop up ads. Just two strong ladies alone in this room. They’re naked. Or maybe they’re clothed but end up getting naked as the video goes along. No, on second thought, let’s just cut to the chase and have them nude from the very beginning.

One of the ladies goes first. For the sake of this fantasy, let’s say the video features Alina Popa and Cindy Landolt. Would the world implode into trillions of pieces if these two celestial beings were in the same room together? Well, yes, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. The Large Hadron Collider possesses less potential to lead to planetary extinction than this fateful meeting. And as lucky viewers, we’d all die happy regardless.

So, Cindy goes first. She takes her sweet time exploring Alina’s chiseled muscles. Her biceps, her shoulders, her chest, her quads, her abdomen, her calves…her everything. The room is quiet, but not silent. There’s no need to fill the atmosphere with unnecessary noise. Cindy is wide-eyed, witnessing up-close a physique that she aspires to attain. And like any schoolyard bully likes to remind his victims, it takes one to know one. Cindy understands how impressive Alina’s body is because she herself must work countless hours and make immeasurable sacrifices in order to sculpt her body to look a certain way. She doesn’t take Alina’s body for granted. She knows too well how difficult it is to look the way she looks.

Soon, it’s Alina’s turn to worship Cindy. Like before, Alina takes her time in the most deliberate fashion possible. She compliments her younger peer’s raw beauty and gorgeous curves, but gently reminds her that she has a long way to go before she achieves her own level of muscularity. Alina doesn’t say this in a meanspirited way, but rather in an encouraging way. Cindy nods her head in agreement and smiles at the sight of Miss Popa feeling up her calves.

It takes one to know one, indeed.

Angela Salvagno showing off one of her favorite toys.

  1. A group of FBBs playing with their favorite toys

Toys aren’t just for kids. Adults play with them too! FBBs are no different. When they aren’t slamming weights around, there are plenty of other types of tools they can be using during their spare time.

Similar to the previous suggestion of a group of FBBs having a clitoris comparison session, this fun excursion would include a similar lineup of female muscle all stars (Denise Masino, Angela Salvagno, Brandi Mae Akers, Colette Guimond, Amber DeLuca, and Autumn Raby appeared in that particular fantasy scenario) participating in a fun group activity. This time, they’d be experimenting with different sex toys. Maybe one at a time, or perhaps all together.

The toys should be varied: Dildos, vibrators, beads, clit pumps, strap-ons, massagers, and so on. It would be neat if each FBB shared their personal favorite toy and explained to the group – like a college professor lecturing her students – why they like it. And demonstrate for everyone why they enjoy it so much, naturally.

It would be a pleasurefest even more audacious than the previous one. Orgasms after orgasms. Lots of moaning. Loads of screaming. Many satisfied smiling faces afterward. And guess what? You may even learn a thing or two. Not to mention feel inspired to discreetly shop on Amazon for a brand new gift for yourself. Who says education can’t also be fun?

Yvette Bova showing Victoria Dominguez who’s boss.

  1. A muscle-bound dominatrix making men (and women) tremble before her

Oh boy. This should be a doozy. While I am not into BDSM activities, many of you are so I shouldn’t ignore your preferences.

Imagine being chained up by your feet and hands. You’re in a standing position, but you’re only able to stand because the chains dictate that you stand. Without them, you’d be lying on the floor passed out. Your knees are weak. Buckling. Your breathing is steady, but troubled. Sweat is dripping off your face. You’re naked. Vulnerable. Frightened. Exposed. And, admittedly, a little excited for what’s about to transpire. You might be blindfolded. Or perhaps your sight is perfectly unobstructed. Either way, the room is dark so it doesn’t really matter. Suddenly, a loud metallic door opens. You hear the clanking of high heels against the cold cement floor. You might have heard a mouse scurry across the room. The clanking gets louder and louder. It’s ominous. You struggle to see who it is, but you know whoever it is, pain and suffering is certainly going to happen to you soon. Then, the mysterious figure makes herself seen. She stands underneath the only functioning lightbulb in the vicinity. You regard her. And you cannot believe what’s standing right in front of you.

She’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunningly gorgeous. A bit older than you were expecting, but still ravenously beautiful. Her face is partially covered up by her long locks of jet black hair. You look down to see the rest of her. And what your eyes experience is nothing like you’ve ever witnessed before.

She’s muscular.

Really, really, really muscular.

Broad shoulders. Bulging biceps. A massive torso. Barrel chest. Round butt. Legs as thick as tree trunks. Calves that are larger than most guys’ thighs. And breasts that are prominent enough to accentuate her femininity. You’ve never seen in person a woman this big. This strong. This intimidating. This muscular.

Her outfit is equally intriguing. A black corset that generously shows off her cleavage (her pecs are so well defined it looks like she has multiple levels of cleavage, if that makes any sense), crotchless crimson red panties that exposes her engorged clitoris, fishnet stockings, red leather gloves, and knee high black boots. She approaches you carrying a whip and handcuffs hanging around a belt with the largest gold buckle you’ve ever seen.

And you’ve just noticed that beside you is a table. Sitting on this table are candles, a lighter, a large blue feather, clothespins, needles, a ball gag, cock ring, rope, padlock, and a strap-on with a 9-inch black dildo attached to it.

She smiles at you. You smile back. You’re trembling with fear. But a part of you likes it. How strange is that? Then, after a long moment of complete silence, she starts to go to work.

Who wouldn’t want to be the lucky guy who gets to spend a whole evening with strong ladies like the competitors at Wings of Strength?

  1. One lucky guy and several FBBs to play with

Similar to a reality show where a “normal” person is asked by a camera crew to participate in some crazy adventure, this video would start with an FBB dressed professionally approaching a random guy on the street. It could be on the sidewalk of a busy intersection. Or it could be along a public park in the middle of a suburban neighborhood. Regardless, she strikes up a conversation with this man and promises him a night he’ll never forget.

Of course, he agrees to this evening of unexpected shenanigans. And then she takes him into a car – or unmarked black van, just for the sake of appearances – and drives away to an unknown location. Let’s say they arrive at a nice beachside house or luxurious resort. Once there, our host strips naked and reveals her body. Our male protagonist is shocked by what he sees: his mysterious new friend is jacked from head to toe! And not just totally ripped, but beautiful as a supermodel and alluring as a Greek Siren.

He cannot resist her. Who could?

She slowly approaches him. Sweat is dripping down his brow. She kisses him, stealing his breath away. It’s a miracle he doesn’t die of a heart attack right then and there. Then, the evening’s frivolous activities commences. What could possible transpire over the next few hours? Just use your imagination…

Ask Emery Miller anything. I dare you!

  1. An in-depth, nothing-is-off-limits sit-down interview with a sexy FBB

To be fair, Aziani Iron has already done this several times. But it never hurts for more videos like these to be produced.

The concept is simple. An unseen interviewer (it could be male or female, but it would be really cool if the interviewer is a fellow FBB) speaks to a beautiful female bodybuilder for a long in-depth interview. Sounds boring, right? I mean, who thinks of a Frost/Nixon style interview as a genre of porn, right? Well, it can be…if it’s done the right way.

No question is off limits. Our beloved FBB can be asked anything – questions about her personal life, training regimen, personal records, sex life, sexual preferences, sexual abilities, opinions on just about anything, funny or intriguing stories, and so on. She can be wearing a sexy dress or perhaps nothing. But her answers should be as revealing as her outfit. A few sample questions include:

  • What does your weekly training schedule look like?
  • What are your favorite lifts?
  • What is your favorite body part? Least favorite body part?
  • If you had a million dollars to spend on anything you’d like, what would you spend it on?
  • Please describe a typical day in your life.
  • What would you change about the bodybuilding industry if you had the power to do so?
  • Are you attracted to men, women, both, or is your answer more complicated?
  • What qualities attract you to a person?
  • Favorite sex positions?
  • Do you have any unusual sexual abilities? (e.g. squirting, multiple orgasms, anal orgasms, ability to insert large objects inside vagina, etc.)
  • How big is your clitoris?
  • Does size matter? Why or why not?
  • Biggest penis you’ve ever fucked? Smallest penis you’ve ever fucked? And what was the difference in terms of your experience?
  • Do you have any insecurities?
  • Do you have any strange fetishes?
  • Weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you in the bedroom?
  • Without naming names, who is great in bed? Who is terrible?
  • What celebrity would you like to have sex with?
  • If you ruled the world, what is one major thing you’d change?

Who wouldn’t want to hear Denise Masino, Brandi Mae Akers, Amber DeLuca, Yvette Bova, or any of your favorite FBBs answer these questions? Just let me know by raising your…

…hand? Oh, yes. Hand. Ha.

Am I missing any questions? Or any other porn scenarios? Let me know in the comments below.

I Am at Her Mercy (part 1 of 2)

When you think of Kathya, think of Heather Pedigo.

The world has gone to shit. And we are all responsible.

It happened so fast. One day we were all minding our own business. Going to school. Going to work. Going to church. Staying at home watching television. Sleeping in. Smoking pot. Begging for spare change. Climbing mountains. Working out. Making business deals. Doing whatever it is that we do.

Then one day, it all came to an end.

For most of us, that is.

When The Singularity began, it happened so quickly we couldn’t keep up. Cities shut down. Militaries were derailed. Police forces were left impotent. World leaders were kept in the dark. Electrical power grids everywhere failed. And the rest of us were left confused, scared, and ill prepared for the fallout.

To this day, I still do not know what caused The Singularity. Was it an ingenious computer hacker? A virus? A techno-terror attack? A vast conspiracy? The work of a doomsday cult? An act of God? Or really, really, really, really, really bad luck?

Nobody knows.

And we’ll probably never find out.

The Singularity destroyed 86 percent of the world’s population. Some died by diseases. Most died by starvation or a lack of access to clean drinking water. The rest died by civil wars that tore countries apart. Many of these wars are still going on, despite the fact any rational person should know that fighting each other is a useless and counterproductive endeavor at this point. The survivors are scattered throughout the planet, scavenging for food and making ad hoc alliances whenever it’s mutually advantageous.

It’s been fourteen months since The Singularity struck our planet. Or is it fifteen months? I lose track of these things. Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. It’s funny. Not too long ago I was a hot shot attorney at one of the most powerful law firms in America. I used to dine on happy hour steak tartare and champagne after work. Today, I have to resort to eating dandelions and the carcasses of stray cats in order to survive. The fine line between prosperity and depravity is miniscule. Life is a tragedy and William Shakespeare is spinning around in his grave. Or pointing at us and laughing his ass off.

I still live in America. Well, I think the country I reside in is still called that. Traditional political structures cease to exist. There is no government. There is no United Nations to bail us out. There are no institutions that will save us. We are alone.

Today, I’m trudging through a wasteland that used to be called New York City. It’s taken me about four weeks to get here. It’s weird. Most of the buildings are still standing. A few have been destroyed by arsonists. Looters have stolen most of the things that are of real value. I think I’m in Brooklyn. I visited NYC once when I was in college. But that was many years ago. Back then life was carefree. We thought we were living in Golden Times. Hell, compared to right now those were Golden Times. Damn. I should have appreciated it when I had the chance.

A wasteland of civilization’s end.

I think I’m close to the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal. I just saw a sign that said something about Pier 12. Right in front of me is a beaten down brick house. The front door is wide open. I figured there isn’t a scrap of food left in there. So far I’ve seen a small handful of people meandering around. Maybe eight or nine total. They’re all like me. Emaciated, aimless, and emotionally numb. How can you feel anything anymore? It doesn’t make sense.

Next to the brick house is a small building that looks to have been a daycare center at one point. I can guarantee you no one is in here. Very few people are having babies anymore. All the hospitals have shut down. I’m tired and need a nap. I’m sure this place has spare blankets I can snag for the time being.

The door is locked. I lean against it to see if my bodyweight can nudge it open. It doesn’t. Across the street I spot an aluminum baseball bat sitting on an overgrown lawn. Perfect! Some little leaguer must’ve left it there. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it momentarily. Heck, he and his family are probably either dead or hundreds of miles away from here.

On the side of the building is a window that is cracked but still intact. I approach it and eyeball its structure. It appears to be an old window that should shatter pretty easily. I take a cautious step back, breathe deeply, raise the bat above my head, and swing as hard as I can.

CRASH!

One swing is all it takes. Indeed, this is one really old window. A newer weatherproofed window with glass an inch thick would take several attempts to even crack it, never mind shatter it. Carefully, I climb into the building and try to avoid getting cut. Once inside, I look at my hands and see my left thumb and right index finger are bleeding slightly.

Damn it.

I see out of the corner of my eye a first-aid kit sitting on a shelf. This is a daycare center, after all! I open it and find bandages, disinfectant wipes, strips of gauze, and a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer. Jackpot! I should keep these things. You never know when you’ll need it.

In the toy room there’s an empty SpongeBob SquarePants backpack lying on the floor. Embarrassed, I place the first-aid kit inside it and sling it across my shoulder. I mean, who cares that I’m walking around with a kiddie backpack? It’s not like I’m eating my own shit, which I just saw a bunch of old guys do about an hour ago. That made me sick to my stomach.

Civil unrest.

Now I need to find some blankets. Winter is coming. It’s early November, I think. We’re only a few weeks away from Thanksgiving, an American holiday that we don’t really celebrate anymore. At least, nobody I know still celebrates it. Soon, the days and (especially) nights will get cold. Blisteringly cold. So cold one could almost freeze to death. The first winter after The Singularity struck was brutal. Many people died from that alone. Including my sister, her husband, and my three nephews. They had the misfortune of living in a suburb of Chicago. Last winter was unforgiving. It was harsh. Fucking cold weather.

“If I were a blanket, where would I be hiding?” Nobody will answer my question of course, but it’s worth asking anyway.

Down the hallway I see a door that appears to lead to a storage closet. Bingo! That’s what I’m looking for. Still carrying the aluminum bat, I’m guessing I can simply twist the doorknob and it’ll open right up. Unless this too is locked. Which I hope is not the case.

Thankfully, the door cooperates and is not locked. It is in fact a storage closet. I’m surprised this hasn’t been raided yet. I guess today is my lucky day. Inside are sleeping mats, pillows, rolls of toilet paper, large bottles of water, a fire extinguisher, and…

Blankets! Yes!!!

They’re all small, which is not a bad thing. It’s not like I’m going to share it with anyone. My girlfriend and I got separated after The Singularity hit. I haven’t seen her since then. I wonder if she’s still alive. I somehow doubt it. She was never the “survivor” type, even though she loved the show.

I gather three baby blue blankets, blow off the dust that has accumulated around it, and stuff them into my SpongeBob backpack. I also grab a bottle of water for good measure. Always stay hydrated, even in a post-apocalyptic nightmarish landscape such as where we are.

Exiting the building is a lot easier than entering it. I unlock the front door and simply stroll out like I own the place. No new cuts on my hands. Thank God. Once outside, I see the sun drifting lazily over the horizon. It’ll be dark soon. Probably in an hour and a half from now. Or less. It’s time to get to shelter. I found a place in Queens near JFK Airport that used to be a 5-star hotel. A larger-than-normal band of survivors have made it into a makeshift shelter. It’s pretty sweet. The food and water supply are surprisingly abundant – relatively speaking. There are a few beds left unoccupied. It’s fairly peaceful. We’ve reached the point where fighting is no longer a problem. We need each other more than we can allow petty differences to tear us apart. It’s kind of cool how in the face of extreme circumstances human beings finally learn how to co-exist peacefully. Too bad it has to be under extreme circumstances, though.

A SpongeBob SquarePants backpack.

I think I know where I’m going. Just walk along the water until I hit the Howard Beach neighborhood. Then I head north on Cross Bay Boulevard until I hit Pitkin Avenue. Then I…

“Hey! You there!”

I stop dead in my tracks. The SpongeBob backpack still slung over my shoulder, I turn toward the source of the voice. It’s female. But deep enough that it could possibly be a guy. At first, I don’t see anybody. The road is desolate, but that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t be lurking in the shadows.

“Who is it? Am I trespassing? What’s the problem?” I call back.

No response.

“Seriously. I mean no harm! I’m just a guy trying to survive, like the rest of us. Where are you? Show yourself, please!”

Still, no response. Just silence. This is eerie. And uncomfortable.

Suddenly, I see the figure of a person standing next to a telephone pole. As I turn toward him or her to say something, I feel a cold blade touch my throat. That makes me freeze. My heart is pounding. A strong hand grips my left forearm and twists it behind my back. I gasp. My knees buckle and I fall helplessly to the ground.

“Wha…what’s going on?” I’m desperate for an answer. Whoever it is, it must be a guy because they have me in the strongest grapple I’ve ever been in since my high school wrestling days.

“Are you one of them?” No doubt, the voice sounds female. But how the hell can a woman be so fucking strong?

“No, I’m not. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s this “them” you’re referring to?”

My attacker lets go of my arm and walks in front of me so I can see them. They still have the knife pointed straight at my throat. One false move and they can slit it and make me bleed to death. I am at her mercy.

“I didn’t think so, but I can never be too careful,” my attacker replies. Indeed, it is a woman! She’s wearing a dark brown leather jacket that looks as worn as a leather jacket like that should be. Along with ripped jeans, black boots, a gray skull cap, and a utility belt – she’s dressed like how a Hollywood producer would think a post-apocalyptic gangster should dress. She’s husky, which could mean either she’s fat but hides it well or her clothes are too big for her.

“Who the fuck are you? And what’s your name?”

Still on my knees, I look up and try to answer her questions in a calm and rational manner. “My name is Preston. I’m from Washington D.C. but now I don’t live anywhere. I’m a scavenger just like everybody else.” She seems like she’s buying my story, which is 100 percent true, by the way. “I just arrived in New York earlier this morning. I was walking around looking for blankets and stuff. I found some in an abandoned daycare center a block away from here.”

A city on fire.

I point in the direction of the daycare center. Smartly, she doesn’t look away from me and continues to threateningly point the knife near my carotid artery.

“Maybe that’s true, or maybe not. I don’t know for sure. My name is Kathya. Have you ever heard of me?” I nod my head “no.” She seems to believe it. “Okay, have you ever heard of the Daughters of Athena?”

“No. Never heard of it, Kathya.”

Upon hearing me say her name, Kathya’s head turns slightly to her side. She doesn’t blink and stares directly into my weary eyes. I sense a small smile crack her militant façade. Then, she grabs my hand and pulls me up to my feet. She notices blood dripping from my right index finger.

“We have to get out of here. Now. The Daughters of Athena isn’t popular in these parts. My very presence here could spark an all-out gang war. Hurry!” And with that, Kathya takes my hand and sprints toward an abandoned pub. I struggle to keep up. Not only is she strong, but she’s also fast! She opens the door with a small key she takes out from her utility belt. Before I can catch my breath, Kathya pulls me into the building and slams the door shut. She locks it. I look around and see an empty bar that’s clearly been robbed of all its booze. Not even a spare chair can be seen.

“Follow me, Preston.”

Damn. Hearing her say my name brings shivers down my spine. It’s been a long time since I’ve engaged in such a lengthy conversation with a woman. Kathya isn’t very pretty, but she’s sturdy and confident – which can make someone appear more physically beautiful than the really are. Kathya leads me down a dark hall. At the end, we go into the bathroom. The toilet is gone, but that doesn’t matter since it doesn’t appear we’re here to take a joint piss. Kathya opens the bathroom cabinet hanging over the space where the toilet used to be, revealing a 10-digit security keypad.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t tell anybody that this is here, got it?” She enters several digits. A “ding” sound comes from the ceiling. Then, Kathya walks over to the south-facing wall and pushes against it. A mysterious door opens. My jaw drops to the floor, metaphorically speaking. It leads down a long flight of stairs. But I’m still standing here, frozen and totally in shock.

“Yes, I know this is a lot for you to take in right now. But follow me, please.” I take a small step toward the door but stop. What the fuck is going on right now –

“PRESTON!”

“Uh, yes ma’am! I’m coming…” I follow her meekly down the staircase. It’s dimly lit, but thankfully there’s railing on both sides. I grab onto both rails and slowly descend. The door closes behind us without any of us doing anything to close it. What the hell is this place?

“This building used to be a speakeasy during Prohibition times,” Kathya explains. “The upstairs room used to be a diner that served meatloaf and cold potato salad. But downstairs is where flapper girls and rich Wall Street bankers used to party all night, get drunk, and have wild orgies till dawn. Even before The Singularity fucked up all of humanity, this speakeasy was a haven for radicals, extremists, and social outcasts. People like me.”

We stop at the bottom of the staircase. Up ahead is another short hallway. At the end is a large, imposing stone door.

Environmental destruction.

“A speakeasy, you say? That’s neat. I’ve read about them but never actually visited one.” My head is indeed swimming with a lot of new information. Not only is there some kind of radical underground street gang living here, they appear to be in some kind of turf war with another rival gang. How cool is that?

“Is there a secret password to get in through that door? Or do we need to enter another pass code?” I point to the stone door ahead of us.

“Unfortunately Preston, you aren’t going through that door.” Kathya has a look of regret on her face. I cannot figure out why and am about to ask her about it, until I feel a powerful blow against the back of my head.

I fall to the floor and immediately pass out, knocked out cold.

To be continued

All Hail Queen Alina

Bow down and worship Alina Popa!

Alina Popa is the GOAT.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the lingo the kids are using these days, “GOAT” is not an insult. It’s not what Charlie Brown feared he would be if he were to give up the losing run at the end of his playground baseball game. It’s not an animal. It’s not one of the 12 Chinese zodiac signs. No. GOAT stands for Greatest of All Time. It’s the highest compliment one can bestow upon a person. It’s a high honor.

Miss Popa is the GOAT. Or a GOAT. Or one of the GOATs. Or in the top 5. Or top 10. We can’t all agree where she ranks among the greatest female bodybuilders in the history of the sport, but for the time being most of us should be able to recognize that Alina is one the best of the best of the best of the best.

For many reasons, Alina has captured our hearts and imaginations. She’s beloved. She boasts near universal adoration. Everyone loves and respects her. If you were to take a straw poll of one thousand female muscle fans worldwide and ask them who their favorite FBB currently is, I’d wager a guess that more than 80% would have Alina somewhere in their top 5. If she’s not in their top 10, then they’ve lost all credibility as far as I’m concerned. If they’ve never even heard of her, then I don’t know if it’s fair to call them a female muscle fan in the first place.

Alina’s appeal is fascinating to break down. She doesn’t have the crossover appeal of Cindy Landolt, yet she’s probably more beloved than she is. Alina doesn’t participate in sexually explicit pornography like Denise Masino or Brandi Mae Akers, yet she’s still considered unbelievably sexy. She isn’t as prominent on social media as Lauren Drain, but Alina is heads and shoulders more popular than Miss Drain will ever be. That isn’t to insult Miss Landolt, Miss Masino, Miss Akers, or Miss Drain – but rather to point out the impressiveness of Miss Popa’s popularity.

But it isn’t just about popularity. It’s emotional appeal. Alina makes us feel things. Intense things. Intense thoughts, feelings, and fantasies. One does not simply look at a picture of Alina flexing her large muscles and not experience a rise in blood pressure. Unless one is already in a vegetative state. Heck, looking at Alina’s body of work may very well put you in a vegetative state. And you probably wouldn’t complain too loudly when that happens.

She is a unique lady. She’s a one-of-a-kind. Her appeal is both obvious and not obvious at the same time. Alina is the GOAT, but she’s more than that. She’s a queen. No, rather she’s THE Queen. The Queen of Female Bodybuilding.

Alina Popa was born on October 12, 1978 in Brăila, Romania. Like many female bodybuilders, she led a fairly active lifestyle, having competed in track and field sports since she was 12 years old. In her late teens and early 20s, Alina became a regular gymgoer and started to do what guys always do at the gym but some ladies are reluctant to: lift weights.

In 2000, she placed 2nd in a local regional contest, which probably boosted her confidence and gave her the “hunger” to compete in more. That obviously set off a firestorm. The rest of her impressive résumé is as follows:

  • 2000 IFBB National Championship – 3rd (HW)
  • 2003 IFBB National Championship – 1st (MW)
  • 2004 IFBB European Championship – 2nd (HW)
  • 2005 Mixed Pairs European Championship – 2nd
  • 2005 Women’s European Championship – 5th
  • 2006 Grand Prix Due Torri – 1st
  • 2007 NABBA Miss Universe – 1st (Miss Physique class)
  • 2008 IFBB Worlds Santa Susanna – 1st (Overall and HW)
  • 2010 IFBB Ms. International – 8th
  • 2011 IFBB Ms. International – 3rd
  • 2011 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 5th
  • 2012 IFBB Ms. International – 3rd
  • 2012 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 4th
  • 2013 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 2nd
  • 2014 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 2nd
  • 2016 WOS Rising Phoenix World Championships – 3rd
  • 2018 IFBB Muscle Vodka Tampa Pro – 1st
  • 2018 Rising Phoenix World Championships – 1st

There’s no need to rehash the controversy in 2014 when Alina placed 2nd to Iris Kyle in the final Ms. Olympia contest. Alina placed 2nd the previous year and every prognosticator thought this would be the year the seemingly unstoppable Miss Kyle would be unseated. Alas, that did not happen. Iris won her 17th overall IFBB professional title, an eyepopping achievement that deserves considerable recognition. But in the hearts and minds of FBB fans everywhere, Alina deserved to place 1st at least once while the Ms. Olympia still existed. She may not have persuaded enough judges to earn that crown, but she’s definitely earned our awe and admiration. We understand that one’s accomplishments are not always defined by others.

So as far as professional competitions go, Alina may not technically be the GOAT, but she’s nevertheless one of the greatest to ever have stepped onto the stage. But for those of us who don’t need external validation for the things we love, we can live with that. Others who crave that validation are probably still bitter to this day.

Alina is a Queen because she’s everything you could possibly ask for in a female bodybuilder. She has it all: Brains, beauty, brawn, charm, and grace. She’s beautiful, yet approachable. She’s accomplished, yet humble. She’s tough, yet kind. She’s relentless, yet grounded. She’s glamourous, yet authentic. She’s strong, yet compassionate. She’s muscular, yet still unquestionably feminine. She’s big, yet curvy. She’s confident, yet amicable. She’s a woman, yet she doesn’t let her gender define her.

Her body is flawless. Some may have been disappointed when she decided to get breast implants, but that is neither here nor there. She can choose to enhance herself if it makes her happy. Alina has achieved the near impossible: She appeals to female muscle fans across the entire spectrum. She appeases those who love big, big, big muscles. She also appeases the folks on the other side of the aisle who value traditional femininity and are turned off by FBBs who exhibit too many “masculine” qualities. There’s nothing masculine about Miss Popa. She’s as feminine as can be.

When the sport of female bodybuilding rose to prominence in the 1970s, there was a stigma attached to women who were so bulky it (supposedly) compromised their “femininity.” As a result, many female competitors intentionally chose to not get too big out of fear it would damage their ability to win contests. That’s bad news. So praising Alina’s uncanny ability to perfectly balance femininity and muscularity is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s the reason why she’s so beloved by female muscle fans around the world. On the other hand, it feeds into the perception that female bodybuilders are somehow obligated to also look feminine because not looking sufficiently feminine can be detrimental to their success.

Hm. This is an awkward place to be. It’s discouraging to praise ladies like Alina, Cindy, and Minna Pajulahti for their femininity and strength because – even if it’s implicitly implied – it reinforces the belief that women who are not like them are somehow inferior. Jennifer Kennedy and Kathy Connors are not inferior. They’re also awesome and deserving of respect. They may not get the same universal adoration as the previous group, but they are still worthy of our undying love. It’s much easier to defend Cindy Landolt than it is Miss Kennedy, a fact that begrudgingly acknowledges the reality that traditional femininity still matters to a great deal of people.

FBBs like Miss Kennedy have deep voices, masculine-looking faces, and a “roughness” about them that makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable. One cannot deny that, even though one can also argue that these features do not chip away at her identity as a strong sexy woman. Alina’s presence is a breath of fresh air because she checks every box a female muscle fan could ask for, in addition to not having to carry much of the baggage typically associated with muscular women.

There isn’t a whole lot you can criticize about Alina. But we think of her as a Queen not just because of her crossover appeal, flawless beauty, perfect balance between muscularity and femininity, and considerable professional accomplishments. She’s earned her Queen Status because she makes us feel things very few other women – muscular or not – can also conjure up.

One of her most famous talents is the ability to isolate her muscles and bounce them on command. It makes us swoon faster than a pack of teen girls at an Elvis concert circa 1956. She can wiggle her glutes, bounce her pecs, and make her quads dance as if it were a cast member of Soul Train. Her muscle control is a sight to behold. It takes your breath away. Your eyes are peeled to the screen as you watch her show off her skills. It’s a shocking reminder of how in control she is of her body. She doesn’t just spend hours a day at the gym building her body – she owns her body. It doesn’t own her. She knows her physical self better than most of us think is even possible. That’s quite an accomplishment.

Watching Alina control her muscles – and knowing that we can never do that no matter how hard we try – makes us appreciate her that much more. She’s a Queen because she controls her domain with an iron fist. She’s a Queen because she doesn’t let anybody stand in her way. She’s a Queen because she does what she wants, looks the way she wants, and pursues her dreams with reckless abandon.

For the longest time Alina chose not to get breast implants. Then, she went under the knife in 2017 and looks great as a result. Does she look better? Yeah, but once again this is a tricky area. That isn’t to imply that she looked inferior before. She looked stunning before surgery and she still looks stunning today. Personally, I am not super picky about whether or not an FBB chooses to get breast implants. I love strong flat chested beauties as much as I love strong enhanced beauties. Fans may bicker and argue amongst themselves, but you’ll find no quarrel with me.

Whenever I scroll through photos and videos of Miss Popa I’m reminded of the famous quote from William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet when Romeo remarks “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.” Likewise, before Alina, true beauty did not exist. You’ve never actually seen a truly breathtaking woman until you witnessed Alina in action. Watching her strut toward the camera, flex her quads, and give the viewer a sweet but naughty smile is enough to give us cardiac arrest. But more than that, it’s sort of like a spiritual experience. Your brain realizes it’s seeing something that’s different from what it’s seen before. It’s difficult to explain, but universally understood by those who’ve experienced it.

Watching Alina is like being touched by the hand of divinity. You notice every muscle fiber, every curve, every fine detail of her immaculate body and wonder how a human being could possibly look that way. It’s as though every “traditionally beautiful” woman you’ve ever seen don’t matter anymore. Like Romeo, Shakespeare’s famous male protagonist thought he’d seen it all. He thought he knew what a beautiful woman looked like. Then, he saw Juliet. And his whole world came to a crashing halt. His paradigm shifted. His perspective changed forever. What he thought he knew he immediately threw away into the trash can.

He knew nothing. And now he knows everything.

In similar fashion, we thought the “perfect woman” would look like Marilyn Monroe or Pamela Anderson or Trish Stratus or Megan Fox. Little did we know that our standards were way too low. Heck, our standards weren’t even in the right curriculum. Alina Popa dominates them all. She vanquishes her enemies like Alexander the Great marching through Persia. She redefines beauty, or even transcends the word “beauty.” Yes, that’s more like it. She transcends all conventional wisdom.

Alina transcends the sport of bodybuilding. She’s bigger than it – metaphorically speaking. She’s in her own class. She may not be the most accomplished or legendary or historically noteworthy, but she’s loved by everyone who knows her or knows of her. There’s also something strangely pure about her. She rarely does nudity (only a few photos of her topless exist) and she never does any kind of porn. That isn’t to demean any FBB who does go down that path, of course. But in Alina’s case, it works to her advantage. She’s sexy, but not in a naughty kind of way. She’s sexy in a way that isn’t wholesome (this isn’t the Disney Channel), but it’s not gratuitous either. Her sexiness is more charming than sinful.

If this seems like a series of rambling observations, that’s because it’s impossible to succinctly explain why Alina Popa is so amazing. All one can do is talk endlessly about why one loves her. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not rational. It’s unambiguous, yet not easy to describe.

In short, Alina Popa is a Queen because she exhibits one characteristic that very few beautiful women can match: Control.

Her muscle control is one thing. Her control over our hearts and minds is another. She controls us. Her beauty, brains, personality, aura, and ethereal nature have us in the palm of her callused hand. She can do the most mundane activity and make us go crazy. She can walk down a hallway wearing heels. She can bake bread. She can sit on a couch and watch TV. She can lie down on a bed and simply look up at the camera and smile. She can just stand there wearing a bikini and not say a single word. Alina can do anything and still make us go gaga over her. She doesn’t have to try to be sexy. She just is. Whether she’s wearing sweatpants or an elegant dress or a sparkly bikini, Alina appeals to us no matter what.

Come to think of it, she’s the most minimalistic female bodybuilder in the world. She’s simple. She doesn’t need to put too much effort into being sexually appetizing. She simply is…all because she busts her butt at the gym day-in and day-out. She makes immense sacrifices to look the way she looks. She puts in more work in a single day than most of us do in a month. And she does this because she wants to. It empowers her. It inspires her. It’s motivates her to get out of bed every morning. It’s her raison d’être. And we are grateful for her for making these tough decisions.

I believe Alina once told a story on Instagram about how her Romanian mother at first didn’t approve of her daughter becoming a female bodybuilder because Romanian girls are supposed to be “narrow and skinny.” But once Alina started winning trophies and accolades, her mother fortunately altered her opinion. Alina breaks stereotypes. She challenges what you thought you knew about female bodybuilders. And she does it with the cutest smile on her face.

Her muscle control mirrors her emotional control over her fans. Female bodybuilders are often described as being either “queens” or “goddesses.” A goddess is a deity who’s powerful but remains fairly detached from human civilization. A queen is also powerful but directly rules over her kingdom. A True Queen looks after her people with kindness, benevolence, and sternness. She’s authoritative, but not oppressive. A True Queen earns the trust of her people, as opposed to ruling over them through fear. A True Queen’s legitimacy comes from a place of love, not malice.

Alina Popa is loved. That is why she’s a Queen. Not because she says she’s a Queen, but because we say she’s a Queen. Because we want her to be our Queen. She’s a democratically elected Muscle Queen, not one imposed upon us by a third party. See the difference?

All hail Queen Alina!