Lena’s transformation had taken years. The muscle definition across her arms and shoulders, the way her thighs had thickened with raw power—it wasn’t just the product of years of intense training, but the added effects of steroids. Sam couldn’t help but admire her physique, the way she exuded strength and confidence, especially when she was angry. Her muscles didn’t just fill her clothes, they seemed to command the space around her. When she walked into a room, it wasn’t just her height that drew attention; it was the raw energy radiating off her, the sense that she was always in control of herself and everyone around her.
But lately, her temperament had been sharper, quicker to flare. The steroids made it worse—her mood swings were unpredictable, volatile even—but Sam had learned to live with it. He accepted it as part of her, part of the intensity that made Lena who she was. And in the bedroom, it took on a completely new dimension.
Tonight, Lena was particularly restless. Sam could feel it as soon as she walked into the room, her footsteps heavier, her movements more deliberate than usual. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her, knowing better than to say anything just yet. Her jaw was clenched, eyes narrowed with irritation. She didn’t have to say a word; he knew she had been working out hard, probably pushing herself beyond what was healthy just to channel the aggression she couldn’t shake off.
Her body seemed to have grown larger, more imposing with every workout. The veins in her arms were more pronounced, the muscles in her chest and back clearly defined, like a sculpture of strength. She was a woman, yes, but in this moment, there was something undeniably masculine about her presence. Sam wasn’t intimidated by it—he had come to appreciate it—but it was hard to ignore the sheer physicality she now commanded.
Lena didn’t waste time. She didn’t look at him as she moved across the room, stripping off her workout gear with forceful, quick motions. The fabric of her tank top hissed as it slid over her skin, the sweat still clinging to her body from her intense workout. She didn’t ask; she took control, just like she did in every other part of her life. Sam knew the routine by now. She needed to be in charge, needed to channel her frustrations into something physical and raw. And Sam was more than willing to give her that space, to let her do what she needed to do.
The sharp scent of her sweat mixed with the faint musk of her gym clothes, a heady mixture of exertion and strength that seemed to fuel the air between them. There was something primal in the way Lena carried herself, the way her body seemed to hum with power.
When she was fully undressed, her body stood before him—muscular, powerful, unapologetically strong. She was tall and broad, her chest heavy with muscle, her biceps swollen with exertion. Her skin was slightly slick with sweat, glistening under the dim light, and every inch of her body seemed to radiate heat. She looked at Sam for a long moment, her eyes dark and unfocused, as if assessing him.
“You don’t get to make any decisions tonight,” Lena said, her voice hard, but not unkind. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Sam’s heart raced in his chest, his body instinctively responding to her presence. He wasn’t afraid, but he was eager to submit, to give her the control she craved.
He nodded, not needing to say anything. His silence was the acceptance she needed.
Lena stepped toward him, her movements predatory, her body an embodiment of strength. Her hands landed on his shoulders, pressing him back onto the bed with ease, like he was weightless. There was no gentleness, no hesitation. She wanted to feel her power, to dominate the situation, and Sam wasn’t about to stop her. He let her push him down, his body surrendering to hers without a single ounce of resistance.
Her hands moved quickly, tugging at his clothes until he was exposed to her gaze. The rustle of fabric against skin filled the air, the sound so sharp in the otherwise quiet room. She didn’t linger, didn’t care to savor the moment. Lena wasn’t interested in playing games tonight. She was hungry for release, for the control that only she could wield.
Sam could feel the heat of her body above him, her muscle definition clear even in the dim light. Her presence was overwhelming, the sheer power in her body pressing down on him, making him feel small and insignificant. But there was no shame in it. Sam had long accepted that this was part of their dynamic. Lena needed this. She needed to feel like she was in control—like she could assert her dominance in a world that often tried to limit her strength. And in this space, in the bedroom, Sam was more than happy to let her take the reins.
Lena straddled him, her thighs strong and firm as she positioned herself above him. Her movements were fluid but authoritative, and Sam couldn’t help but admire the power she held. The faint scent of her sweat still lingered, mingling with the crispness of the sheets, creating an intoxicating blend of masculinity and desire. She wasn’t just a woman in this moment—she was a force, a presence that demanded attention and obedience.
“Tonight, you’ll do what I say,” she growled, her voice thick with desire. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an ultimatum. Sam’s body tensed, but it was a response to her command, not fear. He could feel the way her muscles rippled as she moved, how she gripped him tighter with every action. It wasn’t about tenderness—it was about ownership.
Her hands gripped his wrists, holding them firmly against the sheets as she reached for the bedside drawer. The smooth scent of lube mixed with the faint musk of the air, heightening Sam’s senses. He knew what was coming. The strap-on. The ultimate extension of Lena’s dominance, a symbol of her control, her ability to command, to take, and to own.
Lena’s movements were quick, practiced, as she fitted the strap-on, her largest dildo firm and slick with lube. The faint squeak of the material as it slid into place was a stark contrast to the heavy silence between them. Sam could almost taste the tension in the room, the air thick with anticipation.
With confident, steady hands, she adjusted the strap-on, securing it tightly before crawling back over him. The weight of her body, her muscle, pressed down on him once again. Sam could smell the lingering traces of her sweat, mingling with the more chemical scent of the lube. It was heady, intoxicating. Lena was commanding him, taking her place above him with an unspoken certainty.
“You’re mine tonight,” Lena growled, her voice low and commanding. “And you’ll take everything I give you.”
Sam’s breath quickened, his heart racing. He didn’t hesitate. He had long ago learned to embrace this. He welcomed the overwhelming force of Lena’s presence, the way she made him feel small yet powerful in his own submission.
Lena’s hands gripped his ankles, her fingers pressing into his skin as she pulled Sam’s legs in the air and positioned herself. The cool, slick tip of the strap-on nudged against his anus, and Sam let out a slow, controlled breath. He could feel the heat of Lena’s body all around him, and the pressure of her fingers on his ankles as she simultaneously pushed his knees to his chest and forced the dildo in his rectum, adding to the flood of sensation that overtook him.
Lena’s thrust was relatively slow at first, deliberate, as she sank into him with a groan of satisfaction. Sam’s senses were overwhelmed—the stretch, the fullness, the slickness of the lube mixing with the warmth of their bodies. Every movement she made was filled with authority, each thrust punctuated by the sound of skin against skin, the wet slap of her movements, and the breathless gasps between them. It was intense, raw, and filled with the sharp scent of sweat and sex.
The taste of her skin lingered on Sam’s lips when she leaned down to kiss him, the salty tang of her sweat mingling with the faint flavor of the lube. He tasted her on his tongue, the harshness of her strength mixing with the sweetness of their shared moment. It was a kiss of possession, a kiss that said, “You belong to me.”
Lena’s movements quickened, her powerful thighs tightening as she took control. The muscles in her arms flexed, and Sam could feel the raw power in each of her movements. He let out a shudder as the strap-on filled him, the rhythm now fast and frantic, her body slapping against his as she drove deeper, harder. The sound was primal, the wet noises of their bodies moving together, the air thick with the sounds of passion and power.
She was hate pegging him.
With every thrust, Lena seemed to take more, her breathing shallow as she reached her peak. Sam’s body was trembling, every inch of him on fire with the intensity of her dominance. The smell of her, of their sweat, and the lingering musk of the strap-on seemed to permeate the air, making everything feel closer, more real.
Finally, with a deep, throaty moan, Lena came to a shuddering stop, her body trembling above him. Sam could feel her muscles quiver as she pressed into him one last time. She collapsed on top of him, her breath ragged and uneven. They both lay there for a moment, the sound of their combined breathing filling the room.
For a moment, there was nothing, but the sensation of their bodies tangled together, still slick with sweat. Lena slowly withdrew the soiled and bloodied dildo from Sam’s ass before removing the straps, the thud of it being dropped to the floor adding another layer to the stillness of the room. Sam let out a soft, contented sigh as Lena rested her head on his chest, the heat of her body still radiating against him.
“I needed that,” Lena muttered, her voice low and satisfied.
Sam smiled softly, and in an almost feminine act, brushed her hair back from her face. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m here for you.”
Lena closed her eyes, relaxing into the bed. Despite the violence of their encounter, Sam knew this was exactly what she needed. She didn’t need tenderness or gentleness tonight. She needed control, needed to feel like she could dominate her world. And Sam was more than happy to give her that space.