January 2014 – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

Strong is Sexy, Brawn is Beautiful, Muscles are Magnificent: The Inevitable Paradigm Shift of a Female Muscle Lover

Don't like strong women? I dare you to look at Juliana Malacarne and feel the same way afterward. — Don’t like strong women? I dare you to look at Juliana Malacarne and feel the same way afterward.

There’s something about loving female muscle that brings out the, er, peculiar in us.

“Peculiar” in the sense that our thoughts, behaviors, fantasies and desires are controlled by this one quirk – a quirk most of us discovered at a very specific place and time. The love of female muscle didn’t happen at birth. Nor did it necessarily take a long time to “get used to.” No, it hit us like a lightning bolt…or a semi-truck…or a freight train ramming us at full speed.

Our attraction to female bodybuilders, fitness models, athletes and ordinary women who take their weightlifting seriously can be traced back to a very particular incident that one will never forget.

Perhaps it was a bodybuilding show you saw on TV. Maybe it was a single magazine photo of a gorgeous FBB you saw sitting on a bookstore shelf. It could have been a video of a brawny lady pumping her muscles in a grainy cell-phone quality YouTube video. Or maybe it was an up close and personal encounter with a strong woman you saw at your gym.

Whatever it was, whoever you are and whatever the circumstances were, you know what I’m talking about. Once you “discovered” the world of female muscle, there was no going back. You were hooked. Forever.

And there’s no way you’d ever wish to “unsee” what was previously seen. No way. Nope. My eyes are wide open. No need to go back!

But returning to my original point, many of you should know what I’m talking about when I say this newfound attraction brings out the “peculiar” in us. In addition to opening our eyes to new forms of female beauty, we also change the way we look at many previously held beliefs. We experience a term we often heard in high school philosophy class:

A paradigm shift.

What do I mean by this? Of course, I only speak for myself. But I can tell you that once I discovered female muscle, I noticed significant changes in my life that I never realized until I spent one sleepless night thinking about it. My attitudes changed. The way I looked at women changed. The way I conducted my own life somewhat changed. There were changes that I hadn’t noticed before.

A meme I think we can all agree with. Lisa Cross would approve, I'm sure. — A meme I think we can all agree with. Lisa Cross would approve, I’m sure.

You know what? These were good changes. Positive changes. Becoming a female muscle lover didn’t just open my eyes to a whole new world of feminine beauty. It opened my heart to wanting to become a better person. I wanted to improve myself and relate more harmoniously with people.

Think what I’m talking about is strange? Here are a few thoughts to consider:

1. Our view of traditional gender roles and stereotypes get completely shattered

Women are the weaker sex? Women shouldn’t lift at the gym like a man? Women are unwilling to put in the effort to develop really strong muscles? A woman with muscles can’t possibly look sexy?

Wrong! All wrong!

Without going off on some sort of gender equality-fueled rant, suffice to say our perspective on traditional gender roles get smashed into a million pieces after discovering the world of female muscle. Before I developed my keen interest in strong women, it never occurred to me that a woman should try to have large muscles like a man. I never doubted the possibility that a woman could look like that, but it never crossed my mind that someone should ever attain to look that way.

But since my “awakening,” things are different. Now I seek out women who look like “that.” Now I’m very much aware that women are not genetically handicapped when it comes to developing impressive biceps or six-pack abs. Now whenever I think about the ideal beautiful woman, a skinny twig doesn’t automatically come to mind.

Megan Abshire might want to change her name to Megan Bicepshire.

In short, what we once thought were unlady-like has now become very sexy and feminine. Honestly, I could watch an hour of porn featuring two skinny people having obviously staged sex and get bored fast. But, I could watch a quick two minute video of Victoria Dominguez pumping her muscles at the gym wearing sweat pants and large headphones on her head and I have the sudden urge to, um, you know.

Gym footage is my porn. It’s better than porn. It’s more than porn. It’s art.

That’s probably an exaggeration, but bear with me. I’m on a roll here.

One other aspect of appreciating a woman with muscles is the diminishment of sexist attitudes. The more you see another person as a peer instead of the “other,” the more you will respect them. I’m sure many of you who discovered your attraction to strong women no longer felt like they were the “weaker sex” or they had to conform to specific gender roles. Instead, you probably started to wish more ladies lifted instead of killing themselves at the cardio machines.

Misogyny is rooted in the belief that women are inferior to men (or at the very least they belong in separate categories, which inevitably leads to “separate but equal” attitudes that tend to become anything but equal). Generations of marginalization has created this mindset in lots of people, men and women alike. But someone who appreciates a muscular woman for who she is will scrap that outdated way of thinking and embrace something even more radical: true equality.

This could also partially explain why a lot of men are repulsed by female muscle. It’s not because they’re actually disgusted by what they see, rather they can’t wrap their minds around the fact that they don’t have a monopoly on muscularity. Your mother, sisters and female co-workers could be just as buff as you. And that scares a lot of guys. They don’t want to become the weaker sex. They don’t want to lose their power society has granted them for centuries. Therefore, they react negatively any time a woman chooses to break down these barriers and take charge of her life.

2. Your standards of beauty change

Think ultra-skinny is beautiful? Nope!

Waking up to the realities of female muscle will also completely alter your standards of beauty. No longer will bony supermodels cut it. You will want meat on her bones. And not “meat” in the sense of a healthy amount of body fat to give off a curvy look. Nope. While there’s nothing wrong with that particular aesthetic, you’ll start to desire women who have actual meat on their bodies.

Meat. Muscles. Brawn. Bulk. Mass. Strength. Power. Authority.

You know. That sort of thing.

Ever since I discovered my personal Incomprehensible Admiration for female muscle, images of supermodels strutting down the runway didn’t excite me as much as it did back when I was in junior high school. Once upon a time ago someone like Elle Macpherson would make me drool uncontrollably. Today, I might turn my head if she walked right past me. Maybe.

But what if Lora Ottenad, a middle-aged muscle woman, were to walk past me? I’d stop dead in my tracks, drop my jaw to the ground and probably pass out cold for a week.

And if she were to give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? Yeah, I’d probably die. Happy.

The Goddess from Trinidad, Kashma Maharaj.

What once seemed ugly now is beautiful. What you chose to avert your eyes from becomes something from which you can’t look away. What you wanted to avoid became something you couldn’t get enough of. What you originally thought was “beautiful” now becomes “meh.” In other words, I still find women like Cindy Crawford (another 90s supermodel reference) and Katy Perry (she’s more contemporary) beautiful, but someone like Cindy Landolt is…well, more beautiful.

That might be a more accurate way of putting it. “Traditional” standards of beauty don’t necessarily go away. You just start to add more tools to your toolbox. Yes, Adriana Lima is one of the most gorgeous women on the planet, but Catherine Holland is a nice runner up. There’s no shame in being second place, wouldn’t you say?

3. You feel more inspired to improve yourself

A lot of athletes use their role models to inspire them. How many of today’s basketball stars have Michael Jordan posters hanging in their lockers even though they’re grown men and no longer 12-year-old boys? How many aspiring bodybuilders watch old YouTube clips of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Ronnie Coleman or Jay Cutler (the bodybuilder, not the Chicago Bears quarterback) before heading to the gym?

Inspiration can go a long way. It helps you emotionally jump any mental hurdles that come your way. Mind over matter, you say? This is a prime example.

On a more personal level, I’ve discovered since my fascination with female muscle began, I’ve become more interested in improving my own health and wellness.

My thinking goes, If Deidre Pagnanelli, a 40-something mother, could look like that, why can’t I? Of course I’m a dude, but still! If she can develop sexy curves like that, as a man I need to step up my game if I want to look good to the opposite sex.

Some people are inspired by their peers. I find that I’m inspired by the very people I want to impress. I’ll be honest. I don’t work out to impress other guys. I don’t care what other dudes think. I work out to get a physique that hopefully impresses the ladies! This is why I try to get to the gym at least 3-4 times per week and hit as many different muscle groups as possible. I want that lovely lady I have my eye on to have her eye on me!

The bold and the beautiful: Julie Bourassa is both.

If Joe Musclehead thinks my definition is improving, that means nothing to me. But if Sally Fitness Queen thinks I look good…well shucks. That’s fine with me!

This is what happens when you get sucked into the world of female muscle. It inspires you to hop on the bandwagon and get going yourself. What’s the harm in that?

4. What once was disgusting now becomes attractive

Related to a previous point, another major perspective shift inevitable in becoming a fan of female muscle is the phenomena of what was once disgusting becoming attractive.

Did you think big muscles were gross on a woman? Did you gag seeing a lady with veins protruding from her arms? Not a fan of broad shoulders on a traditionally feminine form?

But we’ve discussed this in detail previously. Let’s talk about something entirely different. Let’s talk about fetish and kink culture.

Fetish activities you once found disgusting, weird, bizarre or repulsive start to actually turn you on. If the thought of a strong, authoritative woman tying you up to a bed and “torturing” you didn’t arouse you before, the thought might have just become more appealing now that you know FBBs like Kathy Connors and Victoria Dominguez offer these services.

BDSM activities sounded like a trashy idea hyped up in “50 Shades of Gray,” but if Lisa Cross offered to spank me for being bad, I might give it a shot. Why the hell not?

This also is relevant in regards to personal fantasy. You might not go as far as pay a professional dominatrix to put a chain around your penis and pour hot candle wax on your chest, but at the very least certain daydreams will sound appealing to you that didn’t before.

What would it be like to have a strong woman wrap her legs around my throat? What would it be like to arm wrestle a female bodybuilder? How cool would it be for Yvette Bova to wear a strap-on and stick it in my, uh, you-know-where?

Sound disgusting? If you had asked me this 15 years ago, I would’ve said “yes.” Ask me that today…and I’ll think about it. I might not go along with it, but I’ll think about it. There’s no such thing as the Thought Police, right?

5. You feel the urge to change the world

My attraction to female muscle didn’t make me passive. It made me pro-active. I started this blog. I became very bold and booked not one, not two, but three muscle worship sessions with three real (and very gorgeous) female bodybuilders. I’ve had conversations with complete strangers from different countries about topics we would never discuss with our friends and family.

But that’s just the beginning. Anyone who shares this obsession knows what I’m talking about. Our love for female muscle isn’t just a casual attraction. It consumes us. It motivates us. It lights a fire inside us.

It inspires us not just to change ourselves (as I discuss in point #3), but to change the entire world. Our shattered gender stereotypes, standards of beauty and tolerance for “different” kinds of people inspire us to want to make a positive impact in the universe. We want to inspire people to get healthier. We want unhealthy standards of beauty to melt like the snows of yesteryear. We want girls to grow up with self-confidence instead of doubt and insecurities.

The eyes of Lindsay Mulinazzi could stop time.

Our love for female muscle isn’t selfish. It’s altruistic. It’s philanthropic. We want every woman on planet Earth to feel good about her body. We want all men in the world to not be intimidated by a strong woman, but instead embrace her as an equal instead of a threat.

Realistically, female bodybuilders will never be in a position in popular culture to make a significant impact. Fans of female bodybuilders will also never be able to influence our collective psyche. But we want to. We want to see more of Ronda Rousey on TV and less of Miley. We want “strong” to be the new “skinny.” Will this happen overnight? No, but little by little we can make this a reality.

If any of these thoughts seem “peculiar” to you, I completely understand. They are peculiar. There truly is something about loving female muscle that does strange things to us. If love makes you crazy, then consider us all batshit crazy to the max. Our minds have been awoken. Our eyes are no longer shut. Our hearts are wide open, ready to embrace a love many of you still think is “gross.”

Strong women aren’t gross. Strong women are beautiful gifts from God. Strong women will make this world a better place for all of us. No matter your gender, sexual orientation, nationality, religion, race, color, creed, political beliefs or physical ability, we can all learn from welcoming a new aesthetic into our lives. An aesthetic that isn’t repulsive, but one that’s beautiful beyond description.

Your heart has so much capacity to love. Love to your fullest. And when you think you can’t possibly love any more, love some more. And more, and more, and more.

Let the paradigm shift begin!

Educating Jonathan – Part One

This is the figure I imagined Dr. Samantha would possess.

“Is it true Asian men have small penises?” she asks.

Jonathan stops his slow, languorous kisses across her neck as he freezes, utterly shocked to hear such a question.

“Um, I have no idea if we do or not. I don’t think any scientific studies have been done on the matter.” He continues to kiss her, moving up to her jawline, tasting her sweet skin. Samantha softly moans as his tongue explores her slender cheek bones.

“I lost my virginity to an Asian boy. He was Vietnamese. We were both fifteen. I haven’t spoken to him in almost twenty years,” she says, cupping his bottom with her hands. Jonathan and Samantha were now down to their underwear, dainty pieces of fabric separating them from total nakedness.

“How was he? In bed, that is…” he asks. He isn’t just asking to make casual conversation. Jonathan sincerely wants to know. How would he compare to a pubescent Vietnamese boy?

Samantha takes a deep breath and wraps her arms around Jonathan’s waist. She ponders this question for a moment, her right eyebrow raised slightly. Deep in thought.

“I don’t remember. We were both very young. I didn’t come, but that wasn’t because of him. The whole time I was scared we’d be caught by my parents. We did it on their bed. They could have come home at any moment. We were both drunk.” Samantha felt a chill roll down her back as she reflects upon that particular night. They were so close to being caught. But alas, they had plenty of time to finish the deed before Mom and Dad came home from the movie theater.

Jonathan wonders where this conversation is going. Are they going to make love or not? He isn’t the impatient type of guy, but after hours of foreplay (starting with him buying her dinner at an overpriced seafood restaurant) he was more than ready to ravish her on his bed. Mostly naked and furiously aroused, he was as good as ready. He was pretty sure she was too.

The rain fell peacefully on the bedroom’s sky window. Jonathan’s top floor apartment unit stood seventeen floors high, overlooking the entire metropolitan skyline. It was approaching midnight, but neither of them felt sleepy. He wants to make love to her right now. She, on the other hand, is preoccupied with discussing the size of Asian men’s penises.

This is how things are going so far.

“Overall, was it a positive experience for the both of you?” he asks. Maybe if he kept the discussion going this would lead to better sex than if he just remained silent. Women love men who can communicate, right?

There's something peacefully calming about the rain. — There’s something peacefully calming about the rain.

“Yes, it was. I didn’t feel any pain. He came inside me. I didn’t come, but I was at an age when I hadn’t ever come before. I learned how to shortly after.” Her soft skin felt divine against his body. She smelled like a fresh spring morning, full of hope and renewal. Jonathan desperately wants to taste her femininity, to take in every inch of her magnificent body and destroy any notion that Asian men can’t be good lovers. He wants to bring her to as many earth-shattering climaxes as possible and leave her begging for more until the sun rose the next morning.

“How…big was he?” Jonathan courageously asks.

“I was young, so I didn’t think about that. We did it in the dark, so I couldn’t get a good look at him. He felt fine inside me, I think. But no one can fill me the way my husband can.” Jonathan almost cringes at the thought of Samantha being a married woman. He hates being the “other man,” but his uncontrollable lust for her has clouded his judgment and rendered any sense of moral decency useless.

“What would your husband think if he knew what we were doing?” he quietly whispers in her ear.

“He’d be very angry. He wouldn’t resort to violence, but he’d be very angry.” Samantha doesn’t have a single shred of guilt inside her. The moment she peeked into their bedroom one early afternoon and saw her husband in bed with a female coworker, she knew she had to exact revenge on him without his knowledge. He never found out that she found out…and that’s the way Samantha wants it to be.

Jonathan and Samantha met under very unlikely circumstances. He’s a grad student at the University working on his Masters in physics. She’s a college professor at the same University and earned her doctorate in Gender, Race and Class Studies. He’s never taken a course from her, but her reputation as an accomplished and intelligent woman with gorgeous good looks made her a legend on campus. She’s never slept with any of her students, as she’s remained faithful to her husband (a neurosurgeon and widely respected man in his community) throughout their entire marriage until this fateful night.

He’s Asian, 25-years-old and unmarried. She’s a natural blonde, white, 52-years-old and has been married for 27 years. She’s been with her husband longer than Jonathan’s been alive. This fact does not escape either of them.

Jonathan reaches down and feels between her legs. Her panties are soaking wet, moisture seeping through the bright red fabric. She lets out another moan as his fingers explore her swollen womanhood.

Olympic track athlete Funmi Jimoh, born in Seattle, WA! She's the inspiration for "Kristina," the girl Jonathan lost his virginity to years ago. — Olympic track athlete Funmi Jimoh, born in Seattle, WA! She’s the inspiration for “Kristina,” the girl Jonathan lost his virginity to years ago.

“I want to make love to you. Badly, Samantha,” Jonathan pleads with her. His erection is straining against his underwear, equally anticipating release and satisfaction. She reaches down and pinches the sides of his underwear, slowly dragging it down his legs.

“Please. Call me Sammy. That’s what my students call me,” Samantha quips, mesmerized by the unveiling of Jonathan’s manhood.

“Dr. Sammy” is what she’s specifically known by around campus. The moment Jonathan first saw her he instantly fell in love. Her beauty, intelligence, passion and dedication to her craft of teaching struck him immediately – like a thousand bolts of lightning hitting him all at once.

When she pulled off his underwear, Jonathan was completely naked. His erected manhood stood between him and her. A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over him. She says her husband can fill her like no one else can. How would he compare? What is she thinking right now?

Samantha looks down at his penis and stares at it, studying its shape and size. Before marrying her husband, Samantha had a very active sex life and has seen her share of male anatomy through the years. She didn’t quite know what to think about his endowment yet. It wasn’t particularly small, but it wasn’t big either. It was light brown, curved slightly and circumcised. His black pubic hair was short and lightly trimmed, dancing around his manhood without being distracting.

“How big is it?” she asks, almost in a trance-like state. Jonathan has no idea how to respond.

“Uh, I don’t know. What do you mean by that?”

“How long is it? Have you ever measured it before?”

“No, I have not. Do you want to?”

Her eyes light up. Of course she wants to! Samantha doesn’t know where her obsession with penis size came from, but throughout her adult life (starting in high school) she’s been mesmerized by men’s penises – their function, their size, their appearance, their unique smell and their role in social relationships. She once wrote an entire book dedicated to studying penises. Every possible angle was explored in this groundbreaking text. She even won an award for it.

“Yes, I want to. Do you have a ruler or measuring tape?” Her eyes still have not left his manhood. Jonathan has never taken much thought about the size of his penis. He’s always assumed he was average. None of the women he’s ever been with (both Asian and non-Asian) have ever complained. But then again, not complaining isn’t the same as being satisfied. He lost his virginity to a black girl during his freshman year in college. Her name was Kristina. She lived in the same dormitory building and was a member of the track team. She had an incredibly muscular body that was as fit and athletic as he’d ever witnessed in his life. He’ll never forget that experience.

“I have a roll of measuring tape in my desk drawer.” Jonathan gets up off the bed and almost trips on the pile of clothes recklessly sprawled out across the floor. His erection sways from side to side as he walks across the room. Samantha notices this and begins to touch herself in response. She slides her right hand beneath her panties and places two fingers across her swollen clitoris, stroking herself as she closes her eyes and imagines Jonathan’s Asian penis filling every inch of her. She unclasps her bra and drops it on the floor.

Have you ever measured the length of your manhood?

Meanwhile, Jonathan opens his desk drawer and takes out a small roll of measuring tape. He can’t remember the last time he used this. High school shop class, perhaps? That must be it.

He turns around and sees Samantha pleasuring herself. Her right hand caresses the sensitive nub between her legs while her left hand explores her stomach, breasts and neck. Jonathan watches, captivated by this little “show.” Jonathan has seen lots of videos of women masturbating in front of a camera, but nothing compares to watching the real thing unfold right before his very eyes.

She has no idea what’s come over her. She’s not the type of woman who impulsively touches herself when a sudden rush of arousal hits her. But here she is, rubbing herself like a sex-starved housewife in front of a total stranger she’s only met hours ago. Samantha feels a hot rush of heat pulsate from between her legs as her fingers relentlessly caress her most sensitive area. She knows she’s close. And she’s further turned on knowing he’s watching her.

Jonathan can’t breathe. Samantha loses her breath – caught up in the moment, reveling in the sensations rising up from her depraved body.

Samantha looks up to the Heavens as she approaches her climax. Her fingers continue to rub her clit as her breathing increases with forceful panic. Seeing Jonathan’s hard manhood sway back and forth reminded her of her husband twenty years ago, when they were both young and full of uninhibited sexual ambitions.

Finally, Samantha’s orgasm reaches its peak and she climaxes. A controlled scream fills the air as her orgasm engulfs her entire body from head to toe. The rhythmic contractions of her vaginal muscles steal her breath, making her fall backwards on the bed. Her fingers linger on her clit until her spasms subside. Eventually her breathing returns to normal and she opens her eyes, thanking every deity in existence for this amazing experience. She brings her fingers to her mouth and tastes her feminine juices, enjoying the way her taste buds respond to her own essence.

Silence. Neither of them move for what seems like an eternity. Jonathan decides to break the deafening stillness.

“That was amazing. It looks like you don’t even need me.” Jonathan winks at her, a wicked smile streaking across his face.

Samantha laughs heartily. She never expected this impromptu masturbation session. But there was something in the way that Jonathan’s penis moved as he walked that erupted a sudden burst of lust inside her. She needed release at that moment. And the only one who could give her that immediate release was herself.

More erotic photography. A woman pleasuring herself. Who can better please a woman than herself?

“Come here. I want to do something with you.” Samantha pats the bed next to her as she sits back up. By now Jonathan can clearly see her panties are soaking wet, a sign of her arousal that sparks a similar eruption of lust inside him. He hands her the measuring tape and sits down next to her.

“Let’s see how big you are. If you don’t mind.” She stretches the tape out. It’s 72 inches long, plenty of length for whatever scientific experiment she wants to conduct.

“No, I don’t mind. I’m never one to get in the way of scientific research.” Jonathan inhales a deep breath as Samantha grabs the base of his penis and lightly strokes up and down. He feels sudden waves of pleasure cascading through his body. If she wasn’t careful, he might come right there.

“Good. Let’s see where you are…” she trails off, pushing her thumb against the tip of his penis to make sure it stands straight. She then places the end of the measuring tape at the base of his pubic hair and rolls the tape up to the top. He looks down to see how he stacks up.

“About five and a half inches long,” Samantha says unemotionally, as if she were relaying astronomy coordinates to a bored lab assistant.

“Whew,” Jonathan says, breathing a sigh of relief. Is that standard? All the unscientific research he’s ever read says the average penis size, when fully engorged, is between five and six inches. At five and a half, he’s right in the middle. Good! He’s not small. But he’s also not large. He’s…average.

He can live with “average.”

Samantha then wraps the measuring tape around the base of his penis to calculate the circumference. She brushes some of his pubic hair aside to get a more accurate reading.

“Just shy of four and three-quarters inches,” she says, equally without emotion or judgment.

“Dr. Sammy” winds the measuring tape and places it on top of the bedside table. She turns to face Jonathan and plants a light kiss on his right cheek. Electricity runs down his spine as her soft, luscious lips linger on the side of his face.

“Let’s make love,” he suggests, caressing her cheek and lightly pinching her pink nipple with his fingertips.

She takes the hint and slips off her soaked panties down her beautiful legs. Samantha kicks them away to the side, uncaring where they land. She is now completely nude.

“Yes.” She kisses him deeply, refusing to let this prefect moment go to waste.

A Word of Caution: The Dangers of Crossing the Line in Your Female Muscle Fandom

Usually I try to keep the tone of my essays light, informative and humorous.

The purpose of writing articles like Top 10 Misconceptions About Having a Female Muscle Fetish, The Strangeness of Having a Female Muscle Fetish and Female Muscle and Masculine Insecurity was to articulate the inner feelings of many men (and women) out there who adore strong women. I want to inform, provoke thought and inspire discussions among people from all backgrounds who are curious about this topic.

However, I feel obligated to discuss something else that needs to be said. There are, unfortunately, some dangers attached to this special sexual attraction that I’ve come to embrace. So I’ve decided to provide a word of caution to all you female muscle fans out there.

But before I do this, I need to preface this discussion with these thoughts:

Anything in life, when taken to extremes, can be dangerous. Any interest, hobby or activity has the potential to become harmful when taken too far. A prime example is drinking alcohol. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a glass of red wine or a beer every once in a while. But if you drink too much and too often, you set yourself up for health issues that we should all be familiar with by now.

Alcoholism. Liver damage. Automobile accidents caused by drunk driving. Strained relationships. Personal injury. Vomiting and other kinds of sicknesses.

You understand. I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about. And this list is by no means exhaustive.

Drinking is one example of a fairly harmless activity that – when taken too far – can have very negative repercussions that can hurt both you and the people around you (including those you love and hold dear). Nobody wants this to happen. But unfortunately it does all too often.

Believe it or not, a healthy activity like exercise can also be dangerous when taken to extremes. Excessive exercise can actually damage your muscles and joints instead of strengthening them. Exhaustion could cause kidney and heart problems. Injury, soreness, dehydration and increased chances of accidents can all result from excessive exercise. So, even a supposedly healthy activity like working out can be detrimental to your health if you’re not careful.

The same goes for being a fan of female muscle. I’ve written extensively about why I believe it’s healthy, wonderful and socially beneficial to love and support strong women. Female bodybuilders, athletes, competitors and everyday women looking to improve themselves through weight training should be encouraged for their willingness to advance themselves personally, not discouraged and ridiculed.

That being said, there are some dangers inherent in taking this fandom too far.

Like any hidden obsession, excess can be financially draining. Spending too much money on female muscle-related porn, sessions (wrestling, fantasy, muscle worship, BDSM, role playing, etc.) and entertainment media can cost you a lot of money if you’re not prudent in how you spend. We know all about so-called “shopaholics” who can’t stop using their credit card. They end up buying tons of worthless junk while draining their bank account at the same time. The Internet makes all this unnecessary spending way easier.

You can also violate the trust of a loved one. A man who secretly spends his money on sessions with female bodybuilders might be doing this without his wife or girlfriend’s approval. What happens if she ever finds out? Will she feel like he “cheated” on her? Will she ever look at him the same way? Will she ever be able to trust him with anything again (including raising children, paying the bills on time and/or providing for the family)?

Understandably, these things will come into question if one is not open about their fascination with female muscle and how it affects others. It should also be said that there is a fine line between “fascination” and “obsession.” An obsession is an uncontrollable urge to consume or engage in an activity in a manner that possesses you. It consumes your time, energy and thoughts. An obsession (combined with other psychological problems) leads people like John Hinckley to attempt to assassinate the President of the United States of America for mindboggling reasons.

Of course, this is an extreme example. Most unhealthy obsessions with female muscle won’t direct you to attempt to murder a sitting head of state. Most of the damage, if any, will be done relationally, financially and socially.

A fascination, on the other hand, is when one appreciates something from a safe distance and knows when to back off when a particular line is crossed. You keep your wits about you at all times.

Tanji Johnson, a local gal from Renton, WA and the winner of the Fitness International title at the Arnold Sports Festival in 2013.

I do not believe it is unhealthy to be attracted to muscular women. Not at all. I think it’s a perfectly healthy aspect to one’s sexuality that should be expressed, not suppressed. But it can become unhealthy in a heartbeat if certain urges aren’t placed within reasonable parameters.

I’ll use me as an example. I once got very close to having this attraction negatively affect me. Let me explain:

Last year I engaged in three separate muscle worship sessions. Toward the end of October I had an opportunity to engage in a fourth. I exchanged a few e-mails and text messages with this particular female bodybuilder who was planning to travel to Seattle. She told me her rates – which I felt were a little higher than I was able to pay.

I’m not a very rich person, so paying for sessions is a very big deal to me. I don’t have $350-$400 at my disposal for one hour’s worth of entertainment. I’m not a multi-millionaire. So I made a wise decision and decided not to go ahead and schedule anything with her. She understood my position. I knew I didn’t have the financial resources to go through this. So I let my better judgment win out at the end. I felt proud of myself for demonstrating such fiscal discipline.

But don’t misunderstand me. I was very close to going through with it. I seriously contemplated emptying money from my savings account to pay for it. But I knew this would hurt me in the long term. I saw myself nearly go down a path I told myself I would try to avoid at all costs.

I say this not because I want to shame anyone who gives in to their temptations and ends up making foolish decisions in the process. No, rather I want to show you that I once went dangerously close to the “dark side” and spent money I couldn’t afford to spend. But I resisted and learned a valuable lesson from it. I’m not preaching some holier-than-thou message to condemn anyone who doesn’t let rationality win out. I want to let you know that I’m not a perfect person. I’m not infallible. I make mistakes.

I was just fortunate to not make a mistake in that specific instance. But unfortunately, not everyone is that lucky.

So whether your obsession hurts you financially, relationally or socially, always keep in mind the important things in life: Friends, family, your health, spirituality (if you’re into that sort of thing) and being a good person. Never let your desires control you. Think before you act. Love other people; don’t lust after them as if they were merely sex objects. Never objectify people. Treat them as that: people.

Female bodybuilders aren’t toys. They’re not sex objects you can treat like dirt just because you pay them money to deliver services for you. Remember the Golden Rule. We all learned that at some point in our childhood, right?

We’re all people trying to make our way through this crazy and confusing universe. No one will ever get it right 100% of the time. We all make mistakes. We all let our worst judgment get the better of us. We all act irrationally at times. This is part of being human.

If you think you need help, seek help. Talk to a professional counselor or someone who’s willing to listen, empathize and support you. Don’t bottle up your anger. Don’t take your insecurities out on other people. When in doubt, at the very least talk to someone. If they love you, they’ll understand and won’t judge you for it. And if they do judge you, are they really someone you want to be close with in the first place?

Love is about trust. When people violate that trust, we get hurt. When we violate that trust in others, they get hurt. It’s a vicious cycle. It tears apart families. It creates holes in people’s lives. This is true of everything, female muscle fandom notwithstanding. Please, communicate with your loved ones if you sense you’re going down a dark path. There is a point of return – just make sure you can identify the problem early and take a proactive approach to stopping it dead in its tracks.

I will say this once again, a million times if I have to. There’s nothing wrong with being physically attracted to muscular ladies. There’s nothing wrong with admiring strong women. There’s nothing wrong with expressing your desires and living out your fantasies if all parties are consenting. Consent and transparency are virtues.

What are your thoughts on this matter? Feel free to e-mail me at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com or write your comments below for everyone to see. I’ll share some of your feedback if I feel it is valuable to our discussion and you want a wider audience to read it.

Thank you!

Starting a Dialogue, Creating a Better World: An Open Letter from Ryan Takahashi

I never heard of Holland Canter before a young reader e-mailed me and mentioned her.

Dear readers,

When I first started this blog back in the spring of 2012, I did it because I had a fire lit inside me.

This fire was fueled by strong muscular women and my newly discovered attraction to them. This fire was unquenchable. A whole ocean of rushing water could not put out this flame.

Anyone who has discovered the world of female muscle knows what I’m talking about. What once seemed foreign is now more desired than whatever you previously considered “normal.” You’ll never look at a professional female athlete the same way. You’ll never look at a male athlete the same way either.

“Any look a man can achieve a woman could achieve as well!” you’d enthusiastically say.

When I first launched this blog, the purpose was to give myself a place to publicly feature my fiction writing. It all started with “The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi” series. Since then I’ve written numerous articles and essays all about my personal attraction to female muscle. I’ve also been fortunate to have gathered an international readership that crosses multiple language and cultural barriers. For this I am eternally humbled.

Now my purpose has slightly changed. I’m no longer running this blog for personal reasons. I want to run it for more altruistic and educational reasons. I want to start a dialogue. I want to contribute to a larger conversation about sexuality, gender relations, sexism, pop culture and society. I want my writing to inform people. I want to comfort those who feel “weird” that they like muscular women. I want to inspire women who are insecure about their bodies that it’s okay to lift at the gym (and that it’s perfectly healthy to do so!). I want to teach people who think strong women are “gross” that they aren’t. They’re beautiful in ways you could never imagine.

I want people to open their minds, and ultimately…their hearts.

I want to start a dialogue. A rational, productive dialogue. No screaming matches. No hurling insults. No calling people hurtful names. No shouting, belittling or making condescending remarks. I want none of that. I want people to intelligently talk about these issues and discuss how we can all become better people.

Monica Brant was one of my first ever female muscle crushes. Wonder why?

I realize this is a pretty lofty goal. I understand that finding muscular women attractive isn’t the only sexual kink that needs to be de-stigmatized. I know we need to have a lot more discussions about a wider range of topics in order to truly make this world a better place. I’m not naïve to those facts.

But nevertheless, I want this blog to be a place where people can come together and share their stories, experiences, ideas, secrets and anecdotes in a safe, nonjudgmental environment. After all, that’s the beauty of the Internet. You can be completely anonymous. No one will ever know who you are unless you tell them.

“Ryan Takahashi” isn’t my real name. I don’t even live in Seattle. I live just outside of Seattle. But I am Japanese-American and a male under 30 years old. All this you can be assured of, I promise you.

I also can promise you that I respect privacy. No real names will be published here unless you want it mentioned. I’m also very open-minded and will not judge you for expressing your voice.

So this is an open invitation to start a dialogue with me. I’ve already received a number of e-mails from people all over the world who have come to me asking questions and wanting answers. I will admit I do not have all the answers. I’m not God. I’m just one person trying to make my way through this crazy universe. My perspective is no more valid than yours.

Think all Asian women are small and petite? Rebekah Kresila should change your mind about that.

All I’ve done is put into words the feelings, desires and thoughts many of us share together. Someone has already dubbed me a “spokesman” for female muscle fans. Thank you for thinking of me in this way!

So, feel free to send me e-mails or write comments in any of the articles you read here. My e-mail address is ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. (FYI – I write it out in this format to avoid Spam messages from unwanted sources)

Ask me anything. Vent to me. Give me suggestions on topics you want discussed on this blog. Feel free to disagree with me. Don’t feel like the conversation has to end with my words. If you want to be a guest writer, send whatever you’ve written and I’ll definitely consider publishing it on here. Fiction, non-fiction, random thoughts, incoherent ramblings, it doesn’t matter. Send me anything.

I don’t want to be the only voice on this forum.

We all have a voice. We all have ideas. Everyone has a story to share. Please, share it with me. I want to talk with you. I can guarantee others do as well.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my writings. I am truly humbled by all of you. Without you, I wouldn’t be doing this.

Peace be with you always.

Sincerely,

Ryan

I leave you with an image of Brenda Smith flexing her amazing biceps.

A New Year’s Resolution Every Female Muscle Lover Should Make

MMA fighter Miesha Tate. A local gal from Tacoma, WA!!!

Can you believe 2014 is finally upon us? I could have sworn the world was supposed to end on Dec. 21, 2012. But that’s old news.

Let’s discuss what happened in 2013 for a moment. I don’t know about the rest of you, but 2013 was a groundbreaking year for me as a female muscle fan.

No, my female muscle fandom didn’t start in 2013 (nor did this blog), but I did experience a whole bunch of “firsts” during the past calendar year that truly solidified my identity as a female musclehead.

The biggest accomplishment was scheduling and experiencing my first ever muscle worship session with a real living, breathing female bodybuilder. You can read all about my exploits in previous blog posts. Since meeting “GFBB” (as I’ve come to call her for privacy reasons), I’ve actually had a couple of other muscle worship sessions with two very attractive and strong women. One was local and the other travelled here from her home in Europe.

Shannon Courtney, before and after. She's cute before bulking up. Afterward...DAMN GIRL! — Shannon Courtney, before and after. She’s cute before bulking up. Afterward…DAMN GIRL!

Let me tell you. All three experiences taught me a lot about life, sexuality and my own personal desires that I never thought I’d ever explore this time last year. If you asked me in December 2012 that I would – in a few short months – be able to kiss, fondle and lick the muscles of three gorgeous, strong women…I’d call you insane.

But insane you would be! I did do these things and would enthusiastically do them again if the opportunity ever came up.

Moving on toward 2014, late December is around the time we all start to contemplate our New Year’s Resolutions. I’ve never really been one for making official resolutions, but I suppose it’s better late than never. As female muscle fans from all corners of the world, we should collectively make a joint New Year’s Resolution that could very well benefit us all.

We should all make a concerted effort to support female muscle as much as we possibly can in 2014.

I don’t need to explain in great detail how marginalized the business of female bodybuilding has become in recent years. Everyone here should be at least somewhat familiar with what’s going on right now. Legitimate female bodybuilders are getting pushed further and further away from the mainstream. The sport is going more towards “figure” and “fitness” on the female side and farther away from celebrating the achievements of those who have gained larger muscle mass.

Soccer goalkeeper Hope Solo, another local lady, posing for ESPN's The Body Issue. I need neighbors like that... — Soccer goalkeeper Hope Solo, another local lady, posing for ESPN’s The Body Issue. I need neighbors like that…

Too bulky? Sorry, but we don’t want you. Go somewhere else. People don’t want to see that anymore. The Average Joe and Jane don’t want to see gross, protruding veins coming out of a female body. That’s…just plain nasty.

Obviously, not too many of us agree with these sentiments. We like our ladies bulky and beautiful. They’re not gross. They’re strong, confident and hardworking. Some of us guys like that.

This is why I believe we (the first-person plural “we,” which includes myself) need to show stronger support for the sport of female bodybuilding in 2014 and beyond. If industry insiders calculate that female bodybuilding isn’t lucrative anymore, then we need to respond with our wallets, mouse clicks and do whatever we can to demonstrate that male interest in the sport truly exists.

Kris Murrell appeared in the movie "Grown Ups 2." Yeah, I didn't see it either. — Kris Murrell appeared in the movie “Grown Ups 2.” Yeah, I didn’t see it either.

Money talks. Loudly. So does CTR (click-through rate), page views, search engine strength and other analytics that corporate advertisers love.

This means buying tickets to bodybuilding shows and enthusiastically watching the “big girls” compete. This means not flaking out after you set up a muscle worship session with a travelling FBB (this happens so often that many FBBs refuse to travel to certain cities. Unfortunately for me, Seattle is starting to become one of them). This means spreading the love for female muscle across the blogosphere, social media and Internet forums whenever possible. This means buying products endorsed by FBBs. This means watching movies, TV shows and documentaries that features strong women as often as you can.

You get the idea. Prove to society that we care. Prove to the decision-makers (who also carry the power of the purse) that there is a viable market for female muscle out there. We don’t want women who are proud of their hard-earned bulk force themselves to “downsize” because that’s where the money is going. We want female muscle to be profitable. I believe we have a fiduciary responsibility to openly support the very Goddesses we so much adore.

Speaking of Ronda Rousey. Here she is, in all her badass glory.

This includes me. This includes you. This includes all of us. We share this responsibility. Realistically, female muscle will never become mainstream. Shannon Courtney will never reach the level of popularity of Jennifer Lawrence (despite the fact they are roughly the same age, are both beautiful and have two first names in their names). Every little bit helps.

To be fair, look at how quickly Ronda Rousey and Lolo Jones became household names. They’re not bulky by any stretch of the imagination, but they’re without a doubt more muscularly defined than Kristen Stewart, for example. If they can capture our national attention, why couldn’t Kris Murrell or Angela Segovia?

I hope 2014 is an awesome year for all of you. So far, so good for me! 2014 probably won’t be the Year of Female Muscle, but we can all do our part to ensure 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 and 2019 are even better than the year before it.

Lolo Jones may not be the most decorated Olympian athlete in the world, but she sure captured my heart.

Here’s to our shared New Year’s Resolution!

(Down an imaginary shot of Scotch whiskey)

To Female Muscle! To Strong Women! To Gorgeous Muscle Goddesses! Hurrah!

(Gulp!)

2013 in Review – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

Happy New Year! I leave you with this photo of Larissa Reis. No particular reason, other than the fact it's an awesome photo of a gorgeous woman. — Happy New Year! I leave you with this photo of Larissa Reis. No particular reason, other than the fact it’s an awesome photo of a gorgeous woman.

Happy New Year, dear readers! I sincerely wish 2014 will be a blessed year for all of you.

Personally, 2013 was an awesome year for me. Yes, I had my ups and downs, but who didn’t? All in all, I can honestly say that I had moments in 2013 that I will treasure for the rest of my life. I’ll make sure to share some of these moments in a future blog post.

So, I wish all of you a tremendous 2014. Thank you for reading my writing in 2013. I am continuously humbled by how many people from all corners of the globe stumble upon my blog on a daily basis. I had no idea my blog would be this popular when I first started this thing back in May of 2012.

Peace be with all of you. I leave you with my 2013 in review, thanks to WordPress.

Here’s an excerpt:

The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 92,000 times in 2013. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 4 days for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.