Penelope: She Cannot Be Stopped.
By Mr. BPA (bpa_1@yahoo.com)


You know, I think Penelope has the kind of body every man wishes his wife or
girlfriend had. Men who have told me that they don't like muscular women
will spend hours gawking at Penelope, and according to her, they will
maintain a constant state of sexual arousal the entire time; I just think
they are afraid to admit to this. Penelope is honestly a fantasy of mine
come true.

When I first met her fourteen years ago, she was just a much smaller version
of what she is today. She was already stacked, rarely wore a bra, her
Buttocks above average size, muscular, and solid as a rock, and her legs
were quite big and muscular. I then thought to myself, "Wow, what if she
could add several more inches to her already voluptuous figure by using
exercise and weight training, rather than by eating too much. Her muscles
would have to get stronger to hold up the additional bulk, because gravity
makes fatty tissue sag. If she were to do all of this, wouldn't she also
become stronger all the way around?" I began to relate my fantasy to her in
a way where she would not think it was such. I began by telling her that if
she wanted to maintain her figure, she had better start exercising now,
while she was still young. I constantly complemented her on her body,
tending to use words such as "physique" and "musculature," and use words
such as "figure" less often. I tried to get her to think of her own body in
those terms, and it slowly started to work. During sexual encounters, I
played very rough, squeezing her tightly, grabbing her Buttocks and
squeezing it as hard as I could. Initially, she didn't like it, saying that
I was hurting her, but I never let up, and started coaching her to use her
muscles during sex. I would tell her that she had a very muscular body, and
she should take full advantage of it. I then started buying bodybuilder
magazines, and leaving them in her dorm room in college, (she had a single
room--no roommates). It was my hope that she would start leafing through
these magazines when she was alone, and begin noticing how popular the sport
was becoming among women. She did, and started becoming increasingly
interested, asking me questions like; "Do you think I really have a muscular
body? Do you think I could actually do this?" and "How long will it take
before I start seeing some results?" I said a definite "yes" to the first
two questions, and could not answer the third, but said that I thought she
had an exotic genetic background. This was why she developed the way she
did, and people, both men and women, who already have the genetic
predisposition for big muscles, would have little trouble with bodybuilding.
I also told her that people without that predisposition finds it extremely
difficult to build muscle. She said "But I could never be as strong as a
man, and all I would hope for is to tone up what I already have, and look at
all these women in these magazines--they have no breasts! Is this what
happens to women when they become hardcore bodybuilders? If this is true,
I'm not interested. I love my breasts." I loved her breasts also, and this
was the only obstacle I could see, and no doubt a major one at that.

Yes, it was true. All female bodybuilders lose breast size because the
breasts are mostly fatty tissue, but before I could come up with an answer,
she had already decided to give it a try. She said that if she noticed her
breasts diminishing in size, she wouldn't altogether stop; rather she would
simply change the type of exercises, such as a greater focus on the lower
body. "You like my Butt, don't you?" she asked. "Wouldn't you like to see it
bigger and more muscular?" At that moment, she turned around, and flexed her
Butt muscles; I almost creamed my jeans, which made her laugh.

This was the beginning of perhaps the most incredible story of human
physical development that mankind has ever witnessed. One amazing fact is
that during this entire time, never once was the subject of physical
strength brought up, except for her offhand comment that one time. In her
eyes, the whole basis for this weight training and exercise was to firm and
tone her body, and hope that she could gain an inch or two on her Butt just
to satisfy me. Comparing herself to supermodels in fashion magazines, she
thought that her Butt was already too big, and would have preferred to try
to reduce its size, rather than increase it. Fortunately for me, the only
reason she was going to do any of this was to make her more attractive to
me. If it meant trying to gain inches around her "hips" (as she originally
called that area of her body), then so be it. She knew that if she ate a
lot, those inches would come in the form of fat, but she had no earthly idea
how one builds muscle in that area! Well, the rest, as they say, is history.
Raised as the baby sister among three older brothers, she was socialized in
two different ways. First, from her mother, Penelope learned that she must
act like a lady, and ladies do not do physical, strenuous work--they are
supposed to sweet talk a man into doing it for her. Second, being the
youngest child in a family with three older brothers, she learned how to
play rough, act tough, and not take any shit from anybody. She also soon
realized that she wasn't going to be very tall, and short people (whether
male or female) learn to become good fighters--not just physically, but
verbally as well, because they feel that they are at a disadvantage. Now,
mix all these together in her young mind, add the predisposition for big
muscles and enhanced physical strength, combined with a sparkling
personality, voluptuous body, and a pretty face, and you have the Penelope I
met back in 1981.

Growing up around boys, she was never shy around men. Combine that with that
face and body, made her one of the most desirable women on the college
campus from the first day of freshman year, to the day she graduated. She
knew she could get just about any guy she wanted--she knew how to be sweet,
sexy, and the typical helpless female. If necessary, she always knew that
she could fend for herself. If she needed to move furniture, for example,
and there were no males available to help, she knew that she could do it,
although she didn't like it. What she did not know however, was that she was
already stronger than any male she would ever meet, due largely to her
genetic background. Her ignorance of the potential of her body comes from
the socialization she received from her mother; strenuous work is not
ladylike.

Sometime in the early part of March 1982, Penelope was introduced to B.P.A.
by one of her fellow sorority sisters. For quite some time, she had heard
bits and pieces about this organization, and never pursued it because she
always thought it was silly. It was only after my incessant urges for her to
explore the organization further, that she finally agreed to meet with them.
That day changed Penelope's life forever. It also has had a profound effect
on the several thousand people whose lives she touched (or crushed!) since
then. When she returned to her dorm room, she called me immediately and told
me to come over. When I arrived, she appeared to be in a somber, but
confused mood. We stared at each other silently for over thirty seconds,
when finally, she said, "I think I'm stronger than you. I think I'm stronger
than any guy on campus." She then showed me the official B.P.A. document
validating that she had lifted a barbell weighing eleven hundred pounds
(1100 lbs.) over her head. Not surprised at all, but suddenly horny as hell,
I said "Yeah, you're right. It would take about five big, burly guys to lift
that much weight over their heads. I knew you were strong! Aren't you
happy?" She began to bawl her eyes out, and not from happiness, but from
fear. That was, however, the last time I ever heard her cry.

As Penelope slowly began to experiment with her strength, she became
increasingly happier, and after only two short weeks, she noticed she was
actually getting stronger! From that day forward, Penelope has been on a
mission to try to increase her strength on a daily basis. True, there have
been many lulls in her quest, but after fourteen years of hard work at a
grueling pace, she can look back and say that it was all worth it, and the
drive to improve is still deeply imbedded in her psyche. She has told me
that she will not quit until the day she dies. With the life expectancy of
B.P.A. women expected to be vastly greater than that of "normal" humans, she
may live until she's 200 years old! If she keeps this up, can you imagine
how strong she will be by then? Even as of this writing, her level of
strength is stupefying; it is greater than that of ten thousand men
COMBINED, and she is only thirty--seven years old, and still getting
stronger! The size of her Buttocks and thighs has more than doubled since
1981. Penelope’s Butt measures an even six feet, or 72 inches in
circumference, when her muscles are relaxed, and it grows six inches larger
to 78 inches when she flexes her Butt muscles. Her thighs are exactly half
that each; three feet, or 36 inches around relaxed, and 39 inches pumped. On
a five-foot, one-half inch tall woman, that, my friends, is HUGE.

Her Butt is so big that some people don't believe it's real, that it's some
sort of prosthetic balloon. One man actually tried to drive his pocket knife
into her Butt, convinced that it was just full of air. When his blade broke
on impact, and Penelope turned around and stared him down, he knew he was in
trouble. She grabbed his fanny, and said "It's full of muscle, not air, you
prick" and crushed his entire pelvis in her hand. He fell to the ground, and
died several minutes later. A word to the wise: Don't Ever Touch Penelope's
Butt. It's real, and it's all very powerful muscle. If the bullet from a .44
Magnum pistol simply flattens upon impact with her Butt, then it seems
unlikely that a knife blade, or anything else for that matter, would do any
damage either. In fact, the only things that receive damage are her clothes!

An angry man one time threw a live hand grenade at her. I was standing right
beside her, so before it went off, she picked it up, and pressed it tightly
against the side of her Butt, away from me. Her pressure on the grenade was
so great, that the explosion sounded like a soft thud. No shrapnel escaped
from her hands, but there was a medium-sized hole in her jeans where the
grenade had been. Neither her hand nor her Butt was even scratched. The man
who threw the grenade was far less fortunate. Obviously, Penelope is
invincible, and as you might expect, and never has to fear for her own
personal safety; however, she loves me deeply, and will use every ounce of
her tremendous strength to protect me, if necessary. When she saw the
grenade sailing through the air, her first thought was of my safety, not her
own. She has been too strong for too long, and knows that a hand grenade is
about as harmful to her as a firefly is to us, but knew that I could be
killed instantly if I were anywhere near the grenade's blast. Her first
thought, she told me later, was to just fall on it, but was aware that some
of the newer versions were powerful enough to actually lift her 4600 lb.
body off the ground, allowing some of the blast to escape. She did know,
however, that she had more than enough strength to cup the grenade so firmly
against her huge Butt, that she was actually able to prevent the grenade from exploding!

Having no idea that Penelope had that kind of strength, the man began to
maneuver through the horrified crowd. Once she was sure I was all right,
Penelope began to churn through the crowd after him, moving the mass of
humanity out of her way as one separates blades of tall grass while walking
through a meadow. She was on him in an instant, shoving him face first to the
ground. Bleeding profusely, he tried to get up and run, when she fired a beam
from her breasts, paralyzing him. He lay there in horror, as he watched
Penelope slowly turn her body around, allowing him to view her enormous
seventy-two inch Butt from below. As she often does to intimidate her victims,
she pumped up her mighty Butt to its fully expanded size of seventy eight
inches, and turned her head to watch the seams of her shorts separate from
the onslaught of muscular growth. Arms folded under her potent forty-four
inch bust, a smile began to appear on her face as she admired her own
physical development.

Now it was time to determine the form of punishment for this criminal. It
was obvious that he must be put to death; however, Penelope’s choice
for his demise was two-fold. First, she wanted to make him suffer before he
died, but she also wanted all bystanders to recognize the consequences of an
unfriendly encounter with a superwoman. She could easily just reach down and
snap his neck between her fingers, but Penelope wanted to put on a
spectacle. She spied a dump truck filled with sand across the street. She
walked over to it, reached down, grabbed the frame, and effortlessly lifted
the truck over her head. Unable to move, the helpless man must have had a
heart attack watching Penelope lift a seventy thousand pound truck off the
ground. From a distance of about fifty yards, she literally threw the truck
up in the air, and it landed upside down on top of the man. Once the
blizzard of sand finally settled, Penelope launched herself two hundred feet
into the air, using her incredibly strong leg muscles. She landed
spread-eagle, Butt first, onto the underside of the truck, her 4600 pound
body nearly flattening its entire frame. After jumping off the crumpled
wreck, she lifted it off the ground, exposing a bloody mound of sand. No one
dared utter a sound. After brushing off sand and debris from her mighty
Butt, Penelope walked back through a speechless crowd, picked me up off the
ground, and carried me to safety.