The people of Mountainia are one of the physically mightiest of people in the whole world, maybe even all of history. And few
exemplify it more than the royal house of Vuurden. Every one of them was a sight to behold of power.
Right now in the lowers halls of the royal castle two were attempting to dethrone one of the (literal) power couple.
Queen Lucille was beautiful as an autumn sunrise: full lips, sharp azure, smooth as opal skin with long golden hair. All balanced on a short square neck that was the upper extremity of a body stacked with muscle and curves. Under her green woven gown with black rims, her chiseled abs and pectorals bigger than most men heaved methodically building up to something.
The Queen of Mountainia had both her elbows on the long wooden table, engaging in one of her country's most spirited sports that did not involve crushing-two arm arm-wrestling. She was winning.
"Come on my boys. We have been at for 10 minutes. Have you both gone soft?" her giggles were of a high pitch that did not suit her bulked-out features.
Her eldest son Prince Bastion had returned after a six-month absence, living in the fat-peopled kingdom off Arvinia as ambassador, with his family. Whilst the parents were ecstatic to have him back, it did not take long for sibling rivalries to rear its ugly heads.
A day ago Gabrial was calling his elder brother "a soft Arvinia" and this morning they were pounding each other. In any other realm, it would have been a one-sided match, however, Gabrial was a lot like his father at his age, a lot stronger than he looked.
Lucille stepped in declaring a royal Tri-arm wrestle match the loser would be declared the softest of the family.
That was 10 minutes and 32 seconds ago.
Bastion's entire right arm had inflated twice its normal size, veins zigzagged over a bicep that wobble above his wide shoulders. Gabrial's clothes clung to his skin at the amount of sweat he was secreting from his mega-herculean task, cheating he pushed his legs against the stone cold floor, his diamond shape calfs tripling in sizes tearing apart the seams of even the tough and expandable cloth of Mountania.
Throw clenched teeth Bastion cheekily mouthed off his mother, "Come on...Mom...give us...a ch...challange!"
The Queen set her jaw, a deadpan look crossed her face which sent a shiver down their spines in spite of hot aching muscles.
Power exploded from Lucille, traveling up her arms and inflating her already taut arm muscles, clutching her son's hands in an iron grip she bulled them so fast the air whistled and wood splintered on impact.
"whoa, mom got you good!"
All three turned to the door where a short 5ft yet well-muscled girl stood with her hands on her hips in a pink dress. Anyone outside the kingdom would be astonished to learn that this girl-princess Sophia-was only ten years old and not even fully grown yet.
"Of course, if I was doing it I were doing it I would have put you out of your misery sooner."
Lucille laughed. Bastion's mouth hung open at his littlest sister's boast and Gabrial fumed his chest seemed to grow with agitation, "and you think you can do it? Seriously," he accused.
Sophia gave a double bicep curl which ripped the selves of her dress, leaving only rages, "Yip!"
Stopping trouble before it began, Lucille stood up her ample bosom shaking, "Alright "softy" go back to your daily duties, and that is an order from your Queen, your mother, and the winner."
Knowing better than to challenge their mother especially after she wins something. They all went off to pursue their daily goals.
Once everyone was Lucille looked down at her body, admiring her form, "Hail to the queen baby."
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