Stretching Powers Novels & Stories

She was sweating profusely now and I was having the worst case of blue balls. We decided that we could start with some stretch exercises for her. I asked her to sit on the floor and stretch her legs in front of her and to try and touch her toes with her hands without bending her knees. Big mistake as she stretched herself to touch her toes, I could see her breasts through the neck opening of her t-shirt which fell low. I could almost see all of her breasts, as I was holding her legs down.

“Then truth? I want you again. And after breakfast, I’m taking you to the gym.” I laughed. “Bossy.” “Confident,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.” “Show me.” He did. Later, sweaty and breathless on a flat bench with a barbell overhead, I understood exactly what he meant by stretch. He spotted me with calm focus, palms under the bar but not touching, counting my reps in a voice that never wavered. “Breathe,” he said. “Good. Two more. You’re stronger than you think.”

Nina’s legs shook, and she pressed herself against the edge of a chair. She wanted him, but she was scared. She wanted him to touch her, but she also wanted to run. Fear, adrenaline, desire—it all twisted inside her in a way that left her dizzy. Dante’s hand brushed hers, guiding her slightly. “This is your lesson tonight,” he said. “Desire is not weakness. It’s power. And when you learn to use it… you’ll be unstoppable.” Her breath hitched. “You make it sound so… easy,” she said, half-laughing, half-whimpering.

"But... but I've tried, they're not coming off!" "Try again! But this time, close your eyes and concentrate. Pull with everything you've got but put your core into it as well!". I blew out a quick breath to gear myself up as I wrapped the chains around my wrists and hands, then placed my feet against the wall near the bolts. I squeezed my eyes shut as I gritted my teeth with a deep strained groan. I pulled hard, not letting go, even though the chains began to dig into my fingers, squeezing them together, I pulled hard, leaning back, using every strength I could muster. I could suddenly feel my small biceps pulsating and tingling with what felt like a power surge.

, Herrington said as he carefully observed me. "Yes, Sir. Stretches have been a big part of my life since I was about eleven. Every day, four times a day for the last five years. Though, due to recent events, I haven't stretched in about a week or so," I explained as Herrington muttered the next shift and I lowered myself onto the grass, demonstrating my confidence when it came to calf stretching - heel extended, toes flexed - every muscle in my body was singing in harmony right now. "Good. Go back to that routine," he said, nodding toward the clock to let me know that warm-up had ended.

“24, 25, 26, 27…” Bryan lounged against a weight rack nearby, munching on a protein bar. “Hey, Classy… want some? They’re not bad.” Classy didn’t break rhythm. “28, 29, 30… I’m good. Thanks.” He stood up, not even winded. “So,” Bryan said, through a mouthful, “what are your powers anyway? That earthquake thing was wild.” Classy looked at his own hands, flexing his fingers. “I think… it’s manipulation of matter at a fundamental level. Rearranging atomic structures. Breaking things down, rebuilding them. You could call it ‘overhaul.’”

It helped sometimes when knowing how to throw a patron out of the room. Turning my arm, I stretched it out, seeing the blue glow through the metal pieces. Rotating it back and forth, I slowly checked my fingers, wrist, elbow and connect to my shoulder. I did the same to my leg, stretching it out and rotating it. Satisfied with the movement, I threw on my clothes and started making dinner.

Whеn I had саlmеd dоwn a bit, hе ѕlасkеnеd the соrd stretching my balls a lіttlе, but they wеrе still рullеd farther thаn thеу hаd еvеr bееn. "I have ѕоmе more рlаnѕ fоr уоur balls lаtеr, but fоr nоw I nееd thеm оut оf the way. I knоw how muсh уоu еnjоу hаvіng уоur аѕѕ dіlаtеd аnd your рrоѕtаtе ѕtіmulаtеd аnd now I thіnk wе wіll fіnd оut juѕt hоw wіdе ореn уоu

Strong. Powerful. Together.

“This is your ticket out of here.” “What the fuck are you talking about? You want me to swallow a pill and then what?” My stomach tightens. Hopefully it’s not poison. “Strychnine,” he says simply, slipping it into the chest pocket of my prison uniform. “Causes violent muscle spasms and convulsions. High doses are deadly. But a small one, like this, will incapacitate without killing.” “And your plan is?” I ask, brow raised, watching his eyes flick toward the cameras.