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Muscle Worship: My Sister's Dominant Flex

### Chapter One: Buff Beginnings

The basement of the family home smelled like iron and effort, a gritty musk that clung to the air. The cluttered gym was a chaotic shrine to strength—weights scattered like forgotten relics, a punching bag swaying gently from a recent assault, and a wall of mirrors reflecting every sinew and strain. I’d wandered down here on a whim, avoiding the monotony of upstairs chores, only to freeze at the bottom of the creaky steps. My younger sister, Katya, was in the middle of her workout, a force of nature in a sweat-soaked tank top and leggings that hugged every curve of her sculpted frame.

She was mid-deadlift, her back arched with precision, grunting as she hauled the barbell up with a ferocity that made my jaw drop. Sweat glistened on her skin, catching the dim fluorescent light, and her biceps bulged with each controlled movement—thick, powerful, and utterly mesmerizing. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to. My thoughts spiraled into dangerous, forbidden territory, a heat creeping up my neck as I stood there, lanky and awkward, clutching the railing like it was my only lifeline.

The mirror caught her eye before I could snap out of it. Katya’s gaze locked onto mine, sharp and predatory, a smirk curling her lips as she lowered the barbell with a deliberate thud. She straightened up, rolling her shoulders back, and turned to face me, her chest heaving from the exertion. The air thickened, charged with something I couldn’t name but definitely felt.

“Well, well, well,” she drawled, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. “Look who’s creeping around like a scrawny little perv. Enjoying the show, huh?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but my tongue felt like lead. My face burned as I fumbled for words. “I—I wasn’t—I just came down to—”

“Save it,” she cut me off, her voice dripping with amused disdain. She stepped closer, her sneakers scuffing against the rubber mat, and flexed her arm right in front of me, the muscle popping under her skin like a coiled spring. “You can’t even pretend you weren’t staring. What’s the matter? Never seen a real woman before?”

I swallowed hard, my eyes darting from her bicep to her piercing green eyes, which were glinting with mischief. “Katya, come on, I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, please,” she snorted, crossing her arms now, making her chest and shoulders look even more imposing. “You’re practically drooling. What is it? These guns got you all hot and bothered?” She flexed both arms this time, a double bicep pose that was equal parts taunt and challenge. Her tone was sharp, cutting through my embarrassment like a blade. “Go on, admit it. You’re obsessed.”

My heart was hammering so loud I was sure she could hear it. I took a step back, but the wall was right there, cold against my spine. “You’re ridiculous,” I managed, though my voice cracked, betraying me.

“Ridiculous?” she echoed, arching a brow as she closed the distance between us. She was shorter than me, but her presence loomed larger than life, all raw power and unapologetic confidence. “Nah, what’s ridiculous is you standing there like a deer in headlights when you could be worshipping the gains up close.” She tilted her head, her smirk widening into something wicked. “Come on, don’t be shy now. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the last five minutes. Might as well commit.”

I blinked, my brain short-circuiting at her words. “Worship—? Katya, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she said, her voice low and teasing, but with an edge of command that made my stomach flip. She grabbed a towel from a nearby bench and wiped her neck, never breaking eye contact. “You’ve got that look, like you wanna touch but don’t have the guts. So I’m giving you permission. Get over here and feel what real strength is.”

I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck, trying to deflect. “You’re insane. I’m not gonna—”

“Not gonna what?” she interrupted, stepping even closer until I could feel the heat radiating off her. Her scent—sweat mixed with something faintly citrusy—was intoxicating, and I hated how much it affected me. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Not gonna admit you’ve been fantasizing about this? Not gonna kneel and beg for a chance to touch? Because I can see it in your eyes, big bro. You’re dying to.”

My breath hitched, and I hated how right she was. My hands twitched at my sides, torn between fleeing and giving in to the magnetic pull of her. “You’re such a brat,” I muttered, trying to regain some semblance of control, but it came out weak, almost pleading.

Katya laughed, a sharp, delighted sound that echoed off the basement walls. “A brat with biceps bigger than your ego, yeah. So what’s it gonna be? You gonna keep standing there like a pathetic twig, or are you gonna step up and show me you’ve got some spine under all that blushing?”

I hesitated, my pulse racing as I looked into her eyes—challenging, daring, and utterly in control. She wasn’t just teasing; she was commanding, pulling me into her orbit with every word, every flex, every smirk. And as much as I wanted to resist, to turn and bolt back up those stairs, I felt myself inching closer, drawn in by the sheer force of her presence.

“Fine,” I said at last, my voice barely above a whisper, a mix of defiance and surrender. “But don’t think this means you’ve won.”

Katya’s grin was pure triumph, her eyes flashing with something dangerous and thrilling. “Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, reaching out to grip my wrist with a strength that made me gasp, pulling me closer until I could feel the heat of her breath on my skin. “I already have.”

And just like that, the game was on—her dominance unfolding before me, a challenge I wasn’t sure I could meet, but one I was too far gone to refuse.

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