[Fonk]

Ouch. I think my reply to the original "Le divorce d'Anna" thread may have blanked it out. Whoops. I'm reposting my translation here… I hope scat kept a copy of the story! Sorry, sir. :-[

Anna's Divorce Chapter 1

Anna was in the pool, swimming. Her long blonde hair, spread all around her, moved with the currents created by the movement of her arms.

"I see you're training your body!" Eric said with a mocking smile. "Your new man must have put the idea in your head. I saw dumbbells when I came."

As she didn't respond, he continued.

"Is he sporty?" He paused. "Don't tell me you like seeing him lift those metal things! You always said that you'd start training if you lived with a sporty guy, but really, that's too much! It's not stopped you getting fat, either!"

She continued to swim breast stroke quite calmly, swimming against the current provided by a pipe.

"How much do you weigh now? 110? 120?" he continued. He tried to make her shape out in the water, but couldn't see with the current-providing system.

"140 kilos," she said.

"140 kilos?! You've put twenty pounds on since we separated! See, exercising does nothing! It gives you a bigger appetite, you stuff yourself, and then you get even bigger! Look at me. I've always been thin: 60 kilos for 1 metre 65, and I don't do any training. Not a gram of fat! Training is a load of crap, I tell you!"

Anna cut the conversation short.

"Have you brought your trunks?"

"Yes."

"So what are you waiting for? Come in! The water's lovely!"

Eric went to change.

Whilst he removed his shirt, he looked, puzzled, at the bench press equipment. It held a barbell, loaded with several metallic plates. It was too tempting. He went closer, making as if to put his clothes on it. He tried to lift the bar on one side, with one hand, in the most discreet way possible, but nothing.

"So? Can you do it?" Anna asked. "You're trying to lift the bar, aren't you?"

"Oh! I didn't really try!" Eric replied, caught in the act. "How heavy are the plates?"

"10 kilos! It weighs 85 kilos in all, if you want to know!"

"Oh!" He paused. "Is that a lot?"

"Try to lift it, and you'll see! Put your clothes on the chair over there."

"No! I'm just going to do a few lengths. They're good for the abs!" he said, trying to lift the barbell with both hands. "I'll try later on!"

He went to the edge of the pool, and scratched his stomach.

"Not bad, eh? For someone who doesn't train!" he said, proudly displaying his abdominal grid. Anna looked at the six tiny, badly drawn indentations that Eric was showing her. Or rather, tried to make them out! Even though it was true that Eric didn't carry much fat, he didn't have much muscle either! The thickness of his skin was enough to hide them! Anna tried not to laugh. She went along with her husband, so as not to disappoint him.

"Wow! Those abs are clear to see!"

"That's a real washboard stomach!" he said, excitedly. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"I can't believe it!" she replied. "You must be tougher than you look!"

"I could amaze you!" he exclaimed, and dove into the pool.

He started with a few breast strokes, like he'd seen Anna doing earlier, but the current was too strong. It was pushing him back. He got the rhythm, then began to swim a crawl. Despite his best efforts, the current was still pushing him back. He fought for a moment, for the look of the thing, but had to stop. His arms couldn't keep up anymore. He let it take him back to where he'd dived in. He looked for Anna. She was in front of the current pipe, swimming, imperturbable. The current didn't seem to have any effect on her.

"Bah! It isn't easy to move 140 kilos around," thought Eric, "even with the current." He slid out of the water.

Dripping wet as he was, the water made his almost white skin sparkle. It accentuated the shadows, and the reflections. You could have counted all the ribs, appreciate the design of his shoulder bones and even make out his vertebrae when he bent over. In short, the water emphasised his incredible thinness. And to think he was proud of it!

He shook his body to get rid of the water, taking time over his spindly arms. He kept them in the air and tried to flex up his ridiculous tiny biceps. His lack of exercise, however, had made them floppy and soft. Anna, who was looking at him out of the corner of her eye, called him.

"They don't look too bad!"

"Not bad?" Look!" he retorted. "You can really see them, there! See?"

"Oh, yes! You can really see them!" Anna replied. "You have great definition! Your muscles are well made!"

She had put some conviction into her words. Eric didn't doubt her sincerity for a moment. He carried on, flexing his tiny wasted muscles, taking himself for a virile hunk.

"Eric!" Anna interrupted. "If you want to try and lift the bar, go ahead!"

He went over to the bench and flipped his hair back. Then he sat on it, all the while looking at Anna.

"Check out a real man in action!" he said, resting his back on the bench and gripping the bar. "Watch closely! And I haven't done any training!"

He pushed, steadily increasing the force he was using; gently at first, and then with all his strength. The barbell did not move. He tried again and again. The barbell remained immobile. "Maybe there's a lock on it, or something," he thought. This comforted him. He sat up and looked all over the bar. No! There was nothing. Was the barbell too heavy for him? That was not a comforting idea! He lay down on the bench again. Anna, who was lapping it up, had to ask.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, no! It's nothing!"

"Ah! OK… carry on! I'm watching you!"

"I've attracted Anna's attention," he thought. She'd stopped swimming now and was at the edge of the pool, watching him. He could not fail. He grabbed the bar and took a deep breath. His throat was tight, so he coughed a couple of times to get his breath back. He closed his eyes and pushed, pushed, pushed, then in deep despair relaxed his pained muscles. The bar had not moved.

He had realised that he would not be able to do it. He had no more strength! However, he had to try again. He didn't want to seem ridiculous in front of his future ex-wife. Maybe it was something to do with his grip? Yes! That was it! Grip! He spread his hands wider. A smile momentarily lit his face, and then he pushed on the bar. His arms started to shake… his legs, too! His shoulders started to hurt, his fingers, his wrists. He stopped trying to end the agony. At least, so he thought!

He hadn't noticed, but Anna had got out of the water. She had put on a thick cotton bath robe, that she had simply buttoned, without tying the belt around her waist. She was lording it over him, arms folded.

"You'll never do it!" she said. "Be reasonable! You should try less weight!" Without giving him time to reply, she took a plate from each side and stood back behind him. "You know, 65 kilos is more than your own weight! Not everyone can lift their own weight. If you can do that, it would be rather good. Come on! Have a go!"

Eric's arms were hurting from the effort he'd just produced but he felt obliged to try. He made an attempt, which did nothing, and let his arms fall onto his thighs.

"Don't worry!" Anna said. "You've never trained, and it's not easy. Maybe we should…?" She stopped herself and took another plate from each side. "There!" she said. "Maybe with 45 kilos… ?"

"You want me to try again?"

"Of course! You must be able to do this one! Everyone can do it with 45 kilos!"

Eric had used all his strength. His arms seemed to weigh a ton. His hands hurt. He knew it was going to be difficilt, maybe too difficult…?! He blushed at the idea of failing again. Anna's words were still echoing in his head: "Everyone can do it with 45 kilos!" He would surely be able to do it too! He firmly gripped the bar. His arms felt so heavy that they would fall back if he let go. He exhaled carefully, pushing a few little cries of despair as he did so, but the bar still would not move. Anna put her hand on it.

"Stop! You know it's too heavy for you! What you need to do is try it with no plates!" She took off a plate.

"No plates?" Eric said, who had used the pause to sit up. "That's…" Anna didn't give him the time to finish the sentence.

"Stay there! You must try again! You're not going to run off?" She pushed him back onto the bench and took off the last plate with her other hand, leaving just the bar. "Go on! Lift the bar… if you can, Superman!"

Eric's eyes filled with tears. Now she was openly mocking him! He was humiliated. He began to tremble with rage.

"But there are no plates!" he mumbled. "That's ridiculous!"

She slid her hands under the bar, palms upwards, and insisted.

"Go on! This time I'm going to help you a bit. Show me the strong man that you've become!"

Eric was wiped out, but he had the firm intention to succeed. The humiliation would be too great if he failed! Realise it! Just the bar! His arms began to tremble again… They were shaking more and more quickly, and more intensely. Suddenly, the bar began to move. Eric was so happy that he stopped lifting. As soon as he'd moved the bar from its position, it fell heavily onto his chest. Fortunately Anna stopped the bar a few centimetres from his torso. His frail ribs, very visible as his back was arched, would surely not have been able to resist.

"Go on," Anna said, "you've nearly done it! Push! Again! Again!" Eric tried to move his arms again, but he was exhausted. There was no point. She lifted the bar and replaced it.

"So, you didn't do it!" she said. "I don't know what you were trying to prove, but you didn't!"

Eric tried to get up, but quickly sat down on the bench. His legs couldn't carry him anymore and his sight was cloudy. He had tried too much when moving the bar. His head slumped.

"I had nothing to prove!" he said. "Anyway, I've hurt my shoulder, so it's not easy with one arm!"

"Oh! I should have realised that something was wrong with you! I did say to myself that you couldn't be that pathetic… even if your muscles are ridiculously small."

"Do you want to know what my muscles have to say about that? And, what's more, you can see mine! They're not buried under a thick layer of lard! Show me yours, then!"

"Yes! You're right!" Anna replied, and doing as she was told, unbuttoned her bathrobe, smiling.

"I weighed 120 kilos when you left me, honey! 120 kilos of lard, like you said…" She let the bathrobe slide down her shoulders. "Today, I weigh 140 kilos… but it's 140 kilos of muscles!" The cotton garment pooled up on the floor.

Eric was hypnotised by the sight of Anna's body. He'd never seen a body so impressive, so massive, so muscular and yet so feminine! Her enormous muscles, coated in sunscreen, were inviting him to caress them. Eric began to tremble.

"Anna??" he said. "What's all this? You're really…"

"Don't say anything you might regret, honey!"

"But, look at you!! You… you have muscles!! What does it mean?!

"It means that training isn't crap, like you said!"

Anna kept her biceps flexed, playing at changing their appearance and size with little turns of her wrists. She looked at her husband's eyes following the two enormous masses of muscle, and it amused her.

"My arms are bigger than your head!" she said, smiling. "And, as you can see, they're all muscle! Training isn't crap, honey! You see, if you'd trained yourself, you could have had arms like mine. You could lift metal bars and impress girls. Instead, you look like a loser who can't even lift the bar on its own." Eric hadn't paid attention to the last remark. Anyway, what could he have said?

He was obsessed with the imposing musculature apparent in his wife's shape. Such thighs! A tight waist! And those abs! My God, what abs! He must have seemed so ridiculous a moment ago! He went red with shame. Tears crawled the length of his cheeks.

He kept looking at Anna. Her torso was coated with a muscular armous so thick it seemed impenetrable! Eric noticed his wife's breasts. Two big, well-rounded mounds, planted firmly on her pecs of steel. He felt his sex respond under his trunks and tried to think of something else.

"So…" he began. "These barbells and dumbbells are yours?"

"Yes, sweetie! They're mine!"

"Do you mean that you can lift the 85 kilo barbell?"

"Of course I can!" she replied, smiling. She was quietly massaging her biceps, whilst looking at Eric. He suddenly started to tremble.

"But… but… but what is it good for?"

"Negotiating!" she replied, with a mocking smile. "It's good for negotiating. You have no idea how much easier it makes negotiation!" she repeated, flexing her biceps and planting a big kiss on each of them. Anna looked her husband up and down.

"Obviously not! You can not know!" she concluded. "You aren't built for negotiation. I have more muscle in one arm than you have in your entire body!" She paused. "Would you load the barbell for me, sweetie? I'll show you what it's good for."

She took three plates and slid them onto the bar, smiling. Eric tried to do the same. She watched him, amused. The plates kept coming out of his fingers. When he tried to lift them, they slipped out – his tiny, thin fingers couldn't hold them. He decided to load them one by one. That was already pretty heavy for him!

Anna waited for him to finish and lay on her back. Her thick back muscles spread the entire width of the bench, and a bit beyond. Eric devoured her with his eyes, going more and more pale as he saw her use her massive muscles. He tried to reassure himself by imagining Anna fighting against the bar, telling himself that she would certainly not be able to do more than five or six reps. However, when she grabbed the bar, Anna's muscles seemed suddenly much larger, much harder. He knew immediately that he was wrong.

Anna lifted the bar, displaying her brightest smile. She started to press it calmly, without the slightest worry, pumping out one rep after the other, effortlessly. Eric gritted his teeth, drowning in a terrible feeling of powerlessness. Large tears slid the length of his cheeks.

"Eric, honey, negotiation is all about strength. One! Do you understand? For example – two! – when you came in the house just – three! – you said to yourself 'I am a slender man, who carries himself – four! – well. I'm going to show her that I am a real man – five! – strong, dominating… six!" Eric, who was watching her lift the mass of metal, went as white as an aspirin tablet. She carried on, quite calmly, her muscles contracting and relaxing almost mechanically.

"Seven! Now," she continued, "you know that you are a real loser – eight! – weak, useless – nine! – frail, spindly, non-existent – ten! – which is not good for negotiating!"

"But we have nothing to negotiate!" he retorted.

"Au contraire!" Anna exclaimed, replacing the bar. "Au contraire! Sweetie! That barbell was too light! Could you push down on it? To stop me from lifting it!"

Poor Eric decided to take this chance to prove something to this presumptuous female. He launched himself at the bar and pushed down with all his strength. He jumped on it and sat down, pushing it down with all his weight. Anna stretched her muscles, contracting her enormous triceps as much as possible. The weight offered no resistance. She lifted it instantly, taking Eric and the bar. So it was that the young egocentric male found himself with his legs dangling above Anna, who did some more reps and smiled. She easily lifted the 6o kilos plus the 85 kilos of the barbell… that made 145 kilos! Eric realised it, too. He jumped to the floor and looked at her, eyes wide.

"But… but you're…" he stammered. Anna had sat up and, once again, didn't let him finish.

"It was a waste of time, you're too light," she said, "I'll need more plates before feeling some resistance!"

"How… how much can you lift?" Eric couldn't stop himself asking.

"400 kilos! More than you will ever be able to lift!" she said, playing with her hypertrophied muscles. Eric's head slumped.

"You see!" she added, standing up. "That's what negotiation is! Making the other person understand their place! Who is strong, and who is weak! You arent't up to negotiating with me! You weren't even able to stop me lifting the barbell!" she said,trailing her index finger along the weight plates. She went around the bench, pushing Eric against the bar. "For instance, if I decide not to sign the divorce papers as they stand, you wouldn't be able to stop me!"

She had put her hands on the bar, trapping Eric between it and her muscular body.

"Woud you?" she asked, flexing her enormous pecs. Her wrists pressed down on Eric's thighs, and he grimaced so as not to cry in pain. As she stretched her arms, he felt his ribs press down on his lungs, making his breathing difficult.

"Don't you have anything to say, honey?" she demanded. "Speak! I'm listening." She relaxed the pressure on his chest, allowing him to take a deep breath.

"What – what do you mean?" replied Eric, who had started to be afraid. "Wait! We have to talk about it! Get off! Leave me alone!" He pushed on Anna's arms to make her move back.

Seeing that it had no effect, he started to use his legs to compensate, as much as possible, for the lack of strength in his arms. Nothing happened. Anna was immovable. Although he was pushing his hardest, his fingers did not leave the slightest trace of fight on his wife's hardened muscles. He put his arms around her and tried to lift her.

"Don't be stupid, Eric, there's nothing you can do! Look at you! You're pathetic! Do you really believe you can get away? Make me step aside? With those tiny thighs? Barely bigger than my forearms? Ha ha ha!"

Anna let him tire himself out between her arms, so that he could realise how powerless he was. The contrast between the goddess who was smiling widely and her runt of a husband was striking.

"Look at the evidence, sweetie! There can be no negotiation between us! I command and you obey! It's really very simple!"

She grabbed Eric's wrists and pressed them against his thighs. He tried to fight for a moment, but his wife's muscular arms did not move. He jerked around pitifully, with no result. Anna, though, smiled peacefully.

She lifted her husband, keeping him facing her, and watched him. He wriggled like a worm. He breathed heavily, cursed and shook his head in every direction, suspended four inches off the ground. He had even tried kicking her to free himself, but the hardness of Anna's quads was too much for his fragile little feet.

"Sweetie, could you explain why you're wriggling about?" she mocked. He didn't hear her! He continued to gesticulate and tire himself out, his arms stuck to his jutting ribs. He hurt everywhere. His strength left him again.

"Please! Have pity! Let me go!" he moaned, in between sobs. That was the moment she had been waiting for: she wanted him to beg, to recognise his own powerlessness. She threw him roughly to the floor. He rolled for a few metres before stopping, face down, and whining. Anna didn't let him get up.

She advanced on him and grabbed him by an ankle, lifting him from the ground with one hand. She put her free hand on his thigh and kept him in the air for a moment, face down, looking at him so high above the ground.

"Please!" he implored. She didn't listen.

Instead, she kept him in the air for a moment, checking the nails of her free hand. Then she brought him back to the bench and threw him to the floor, between her legs, like a rag doll. Eric was petrified, unable to move, gripped by a terrible fear!

He burst into tears. Anna stood over him, trapping him between her ankles. He grimaced faintly. The pressure she was exerting on his ribs hurt. He tried to escape. Uselessly, of course!

During this time, Anna quietly lifted the barbell and played with it. She kept it over Eric's head for a long time, like an 85 kilo sword of Damocles!

The young man's eyes were on stalks. He was no longer crying, but even his tears were shaking! He was clearly waiting for the fatal moment when she would let go of the bar.

Anna began to laugh when he was struck by violent trembling fits. She began to do a series of curls, smiling, barely deigning to glance at her exhausted husband. He fought to get out from Anna's ankles, which were pressing down on his chest. Suffocating, barely finding the strength to breathe, he quickly stopped trying to move and looked at her, saying nothing, throat tight, eyes red, waiting anxiously to see what would happen. She said nothing: she continued to do her curls quietly. She used two hands, then one! 85 kilos, without the slightest sign of difficulty! She watched her biceps grow little by little, seeming to appreciate the shape and size her warmed-up muscles were taking on.

When she stopped, she slowly got down on her haunches, sensually running a hand through her hair, holding the bar with the other. She kept her chest high and delicately turned her knees to the side so she could see Eric's face. Finally she put the bar on the ground, just above his throat.

"Go on! Train yourself!" she said.

He watched her leave without saying anything. What could he have said? Could he give up? That would have meant recognising his inferiority again! Could he contradict her? Surely not! It was out of the question! He had no idea if it would make her angry!

He waited a moment before deciding to free himself on his own. He pushed on the bar, trying to lift it to get his head out from under it. It was blocking his escape by pushing down on his temples. As it rolled, the bar cracked his jaw, hurting him terribly. He slid towards it to get out and relieve his pain. He tried several times, hopelessly, and after several desperate attempts of rolling around for several metres, he stopped.

"Anna! Annaaaaa! Please! Let me go!" He turned his head to look desperately at his wife.

She was lying on a beach towel, rubbing sun cream into her bodybuilder's figure. One by one she covered her enormous muscles in oil and rubbed it in with her powerful manicured hands.

"Annaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

She stopped, her hand on her shoulder, dumbfounded, and looked at Eric, frowning. He froze instantly, his throat dry again. He thought about running, but what could he do? She smiled as if she knew what was going through her husband's mind, and pushed her sunglasses up with the tips of her fingers. She carried on her task without saying a word.

The shapes of Anna's muscles were highlighted by the oil. The slightest fibre revealed itself perfectly, letting the power of each muscle shine through. Anna was stunning, in at least two senses of the word.

Next she moved her hands slowly over her abdominals. She moved her fingers methodically over each ball of muscle, each one generously filling her hand. Then she drummed her fingers on her stomach, all the while looking at Eric. He felt terrible, the man who had been so proud of showing his abs a few moments earlier. He burst into tears when she flexed her abs. Had they not been flexed earlier?

Her mighty abdominal grid become more prominent and visibly harder too. They stacked on top of each other to form a veritable brick wall. Anna made a fist and hit her midsection violently several times. The noise she made was frightening. It reminded Eric of two large rocks hitting each other. Was it possible that her body was that hard? He started to feel the need to touch it, to caress it. If he had to submit to some humiliation or be hit again, so be it. He has to touch her, and yet he was still afraid of her!!!

Anna easily guessed the thoughts that were tormenting Eric. She savoured the exquisite moment. It excited her. Her caresses became more and more sensual, and more and more provocative, too! Erotic, even! Her oiled body, heated by the sun, gave her and incredible feeling of well-being. She flexed her thighs, crushing them against each other to keep her desire at bay.

It wasn't over! She carefully removed her tiny bikini top, so as not to stain it with oil, revealing the entirety of her overdeveloped torso. Her pecs were enormous, massive, striated. They carried two high lovely firm breasts. Her nipples were hard with excitement. She had placed the tube of sun cream between them, which now seemed ridiculously small. By flexing her muscles, she squirted the cream onto her hands in little spurts, that she rubbed into the rest of her body.

Eric felt a tightness in his trunks. An erection! Was it possible? After what she had subjected him to? He had already been humiliated; now he was horrified at the idea of fantasising about Anna's body!

However, he couldn't get his eyes off her. The more he looked at her, the more his sex betrayed him. Suddenly a terrible idea entered his head. What if she saw it?! How would she react? Badly, that was for sure! What should he do? Close his eyes? No! Anna's image was irrevocably etched into his memory! Look somewere else? Also no! He was caught in a panic and moved his hands to his trunks to cover his erection.

He hadn't stopped looking at Anna. She seemed not to have seen anything, which reassured him a little.

She moved her hypertrophied arms behind her neck and spread her long blonde hair over her large and bronzed shoulders. Her Herculean biceps glistened in the sun. She contracted them slowly and watched them reveal themselves under her skin. The shine grew more intense with her muscles. Occasionally some of the sparkle was lost as a vein appeared before it reappeared again, more dazzling than before. Anna stretched, smiling, and lay on her back without paying attention to her husband. Eric waited for a few minutes.

Maybe she was asleep, now?

"Anna?" he ventured. "Anna?"

He tried to crawl, making the bar roll.

This time, he very slowly headed for the bench where he'd left his stuff. He stretched out an arm to grab his trousers and rummaged in the pockets. A huge smile spread across his face: his mobile!

Now he had to be quick! Anna could wake up at any time. He typed in Chloe's number – Chloe was his new girlfriend – and watched Anna carefully. She seemed to be talking in her sleep, caressing her breasts slowly and moaning.

"What's she doing?" Eric thought. He listened in.

"Eric, honey, I'm so glad you've come back! You don't know how long I was waiting!" Was she dreaming about him? Was it possible? Did she still love him?

He saw a chance to caress her muscular form. He'd lost his head. His erect penis had taken charge. She was so exciting!

He closed his eyes and moved the phone away from his ear. He sighed longingly, imagining himself spread out on top of her, a prisoner of those granite thighs, drawn into her hot and wet sex. He could almost feel Anna's enormous quads growing around his torso. He dropped the phone and caressed his nipples, imagining his hands on Anna's chest, moving all over her pecs, her breasts, with the tips of his fingers. Anna continued to repeat the same sentence.

"Eric, honey, I'm so glad you've come back! You don't know how long I was waiting!"

She had put her hands in her bikini bottoms and was gently caressing her sex, undulating her chest, inflating her enormous thighs with the movement as she gyrated her pelvis. Her oiled muscles pushed into each other and against each other. It made them much more prominent and enticing.

Eric imagined himself astride the beautiful amazon, lifted like a feather, sent from one side to the other without warning, trying just to keep his balance whilst she masturbated. He slowly closed his eyes…

            —-

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