Right where you belong—at the feet of a strong, tattooed goddess who could easily overpower you without breaking a sweat. This is muscle worship at its finest, and I know exactly how much you crave it. I flex and show off my hard-earned body, each curve of my muscle a reminder of how easily I could dominate you in every way. You stare, helpless, as I wrap my biceps around your fantasy, imagining the press of my powerful arm around your fragile little neck. I smile while I describe how easy it would be to lift you, pin you, hold you in place while you writhe and gasp, caught between pleasure and fear. My body is art—inked, sculpted, and lethal. And your job is to worship it. I love letting you get a glimpse of just how strong I am, making you feel small with every pose, every command, every smug smirk. My arms, my abs, my thighs—you want it all. I know. That’s why I flex, tease, and let your imagination go wild with all the ways I could overpower you. I am your fantasy and your threat,

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