You're pissing me off! (extended video) (Patreon)

The sun blazes down on the pool deck, scorching the concrete, but I don’t feel it like you weaklings do.

The sun blazes down on the pool deck, scorching the concrete, but I don’t feel it like you weaklings do. I’m too big—eight feet of raw, chiseled muscle, my skin slick with sweat and pool water, shining like polished obsidian. My black bikini is a joke—two scraps of fabric stretched tight over my massive chest, barely covering my nipples, and a thong bottom that’s fighting to hold onto my thick, sculpted ass. Every step I take shakes the ground, my quads flexing like steel beams, my biceps bigger than your head. And there you are, staring again, with your little girlfriend right next to you. Both of you, gawking. It’s infuriating.

I slam my towel onto the lounge chair—it creaks like it’s begging for mercy—and spin to face you. You’re sitting there, small and pathetic, your drink wobbling in your shaky hand, while she’s beside you, her eyes wide, her lips parted. “What the hell are you two staring at?” I growl, my voice a deep, guttural boom that makes the water ripple. I stomp closer, my bare feet slapping the deck, each step a tremor. You flinch, but she doesn’t—she’s too busy biting her lip, her thighs squeezing together. I laugh, sharp and cruel. “Oh, this is rich. You’re both pathetic.”

I flex my arm, just to rub it in, and your jaw drops as my bicep swells, veins popping like cables. “Look at this, little man,” I snarl, pointing at it. “You could never please me. Look how small you are—five feet of nothing next to me. I could crush you so easily, snap you like a twig.” I step closer, my shadow swallowing you both, and turn to her. “And you—don’t think I don’t see you squirming. You like this, don’t you? Watching me tower over your sad little boyfriend.”

She blushes, but she doesn’t look away—her eyes trace my abs, my thighs, the way my bikini barely holds me in. You’re turning red now, squirming in your seat, and I love it. “Aw, what’s wrong?” I mock, leaning down so my face is level with yours, my breath hot against your cheek. “Embarrassed? You should be. Your girl’s drooling over me while you sit there like a shrimp.” I straighten up, hands on my hips, the bikini bottom riding up, my pecs pushing the tiny top to its breaking point. She gasps, and I smirk. “Yeah, she knows who’s got the power here.”

I’ve seen you both since I got here. You couldn’t take your eyes off me when I tossed my cover-up aside, letting this black bikini show off every inch—my chest heaving, my abs like a brick wall, my ass so round and hard it could crack your skull. The pool cleared out fast—kids ran, adults fled—but you two? You stayed, staring like I’m some goddess you can’t resist. “You’re a joke,” I hiss, glaring at you. “And she’s worse—turned on by me while you just sit there, useless.”

I step closer, looming over your chair, my shadow drowning you both. “I could lift you with one hand,” I sneer, flexing my fingers. “Dangle you in front of her, let her watch you kick those twig legs while I laugh. Or maybe I’d just toss you in the pool—splash, gone, like the speck you are.” I turn to her, smirking. “Bet you’d like that, huh? Seeing me toss him around?” She nods, just a little, and you groan, sinking lower. I laugh louder, the sound echoing across the deck.

“You’re still staring,” I snap, pointing at you. “And she’s practically panting. What’s your fantasy, huh? Me pinning you down while she watches? Me breaking you in half with these thighs?” I slap my leg, the sound like a whip crack, the muscle rippling then hardening into a fortress. “You’re nothing. She wants this—” I gesture to myself, the bikini creaking—“and you’ll never measure up.”

I glare at the pool for a second, then spin back, towering over you both. “I came here to swim, not deal with you drooling losers,” I growl. “I could squat a car and not blink. I could crush your neck with one hand—and look at her, she’d cheer me on.” She’s flushed now, her hands gripping the chair, and you’re a mess, humiliated. I lean down, whispering in your ear, “You’re so small. I could sit on you and you’d disappear—just a smear for her to drool over.”

I grab my water bottle—some oversized thing I had made—and crush it in my fist. Water explodes, soaking you both, and she gasps while you yelp. “See that?” I say, tossing the wreckage aside. “That’s you if I get angrier. And you—” I point at her—“keep staring, but you’ll never have this either.” I rise to my full height, the bikini straining, my body a wall of power.

I turn to the pool, ready to dive in, but I can’t resist one last dig. “Enjoy your little boyfriend,” I call to her over my shoulder, my voice dripping with scorn. “He’s nothing next to me—and you know it.” I dive in, the water parting in terror, and when I surface, I see her still watching, turned on, while you shrink beside her, humiliated and small.