[Jayne Greye]

Here is a segment from one of the short stories in Stealing Muscle which is available on Amazon https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/998146
The money from this and Sinews of History is donated to charity.  If there is interest I’ll put more from Glade here.
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Steven sat in the tree looking in to Tara’s room, straining to figure out what was going on. She appeared to be dropping up and down behind the bed, and popping over to the far side of the room where he couldn’t see her altogether. It was Saturday night, he knew Tara was a boring sloth, but didn’t she have any kind of social life?  It was a pleasant evening, but Steven didn’t plan to spend all of it sitting in the tree of the school’s now preeminent social outcast. 

Two days earlier, Steven’s girlfriend Amanda, the prom queen and indisputably the prettiest girl in the school, had been shown up by Tara. At least that’s what Amanda said. Assigned a group project together, Amanda had expected meek, fat, studious Tara to do all the work and fill her in on the details before class began.  Tara was late, and when they began presenting the historical significance of Moscow’s architecture, the teacher overrode Tara’s attempt to answer questions and instructed Amanda to do so. Amanda launched into a short soliloquy about the pretty spires on the churches and how Russians liked Communism.  When the teacher “ridiculed her in front of the class and the students mocked her,” Amanda sought revenge. 

Of course, besides normal social shaming, to which Tara had grown largely inured to as a persona non-grata, Steven was assigned to dole out the punishment. Steven knew Amanda was at fault, but he wasn’t going to stand up to her and deal with yet another breakup. Even though Steven was the prom king, Amanda liked to demonstrate her spot in the high school social hierarchy by breaking up with him over inconsequential things. Spring formal was just around the corner and it would be a bad time for another breakup. Thus, Steven sat here on the tree ledge near Tara’s window with a bag of dog shit waiting to sneak in and write ‘Fat Fuck’ on her wall as Amanda had instructed.  

Yeah, it was mean and he kind of felt bad for the fat farm girl who had enough problems already, but he was locked at the hip with Amanda. Steven had a thing for fit women, perhaps overly fit. Not only was Amanda attractive, but she was a sprinter who had more than toned legs.  They were downright muscular with a distinctive split down the side and a bulge near the top that he loved to fondle. She had him wrapped around her fingers and he knew it, but he didn’t mind. He’d likely regret it later and either avoid Tara or find a moment to be nice, but tonight the adrenaline was running and he chomped at the bit for the opportunity to sneak in. 

It was a balmy night and Tara’s window was ajar like he’d expected, but she hadn’t left the room. Tara was an odd duck. She reminded Steven of the character in the Breakfast Club who seldom showered, scratched her dandruff in her desk, and avoided human contact at all cost. But he knew from the few times she was forced to speak in class that she was wicked smart. No matter, even assuming she figured out who broke in and vandalized her room, she was too shy to do anything about it.  

Finally, Steven saw her silhouette scurry into the Jack-and-Jill bathroom. Was she perhaps going to take her once-a-week shower, he snickered to himself. Listening intently for a sound above the steady hum of crickets he finally thought he heard the sound of the shower.  Moving quickly so as not to miss his chance, he put on his gloves, grabbed the bag and moved toward the open window. 

As he got to the window, he listened once more. Even better, he thought, she was running a tub and he’d have even more time. Pulling the window back slowly and quietly, he put his foot on the windowsill and moved into the room. Looking around the room, Tara’s regimented room contrasted with her appearance at school within her uniform of gray, baggy sweats. Everything was perfectly laid out from her massive bookshelf, alphabetically organized, to her bedside table with the fifty pound stackable dumbbells by her bedside. Steven did a double take on the weights and spied magazine pictures of built women on the wall above her bedside table. Tara might be fat and ugly, but at least she had goals, he reflected as he walked over and took a look at the woman on the wall to inspect them more closely. Hmm, Lenda Murray, she had some incredible legs, swollen with muscularity yet deeply striated. I’ll have to check her out when I get home. Perhaps he shared a passion with Tara after all, he mused.

For some reason Lenda’s beefy legs reminded him of his mission for Amanda. He walked over to a mirror above her desk and opened the still warm bag of dog crap. Oreo had done a big one right as he went in the backyard searching for fresh dumps that night. He scooped it into the bag with some firmer, older ones and completed his chores and prepared for the mission all in one fell swoop. 

As he scrunched his nose to lessen the smell and reached into the bag he noticed that on Tara’s top desk were a number of vials also alphabetically organized and a syringe. Fuck, did she have diabetes?  This sucked, Amanda owed him for tonight. She hadn’t sucked his cock in ages. He’d be sure to mention his sacrifice to Amanda at their rendezvous later this evening. Anadrol, Anavar Testosterone Propionate, Trenbalone, and Winstrol all in alphabetical order reflecting the rest of her overly organized room.  Steven didn’t recognize any of them except the testosterone which he knew some people took to stop scarring or for skin conditions.  Man, the girl had everything. He hesitated momentarily before deciding to go through with it. Amanda owed him big time. 

Reaching into the bag he took a big hunk and drew an F on her wall, followed by a big A and an obnoxious T. As he started writing the second word, ‘Fuck,’ he had a change of heart. The girl obviously had medical issues, he thought. Perhaps ‘farm’ wouldn’t be as harsh. He took the picture and would tell Amanda he had finished it and had to run out before he took a second. As he put his phone back in his pocket, he heard the water turn off in the tub. Shit, he didn’t have too long. He reached in and got more poop to quickly finish the word before she heard anything while she was in the tub. He finished a hurried A when he heard the door knob turn. 

As the door opened Tara walked out topless, nearly naked, clad only in a tiny pair of G-strings. Steven froze mid-swipe when she walked in and seconds later, Tara noticed him and did the same. They stood staring at one another, each caught entirely off guard. She stood, head cocked in disbelief, her light brown hair tied up in a makeshift bun over her head and her body reposed as if a statue of a powerful superhero had been chiseled before him. Her cocked neck was surrounded not by fat, but by vast trapezius muscles which tied into her giant shoulders and connected to hulking arms which swam with vascularity. Thick muscles swept down from her sides and over her hips before the vast muscle groups in her thighs took over, each quad protruding outward and defined in its own right. Her size portended the great power contained within her frame and rather than fat, she looked imposing. The striations splayed across her body spoke not only of strength, but of the control of her diet and the will required to create such a fantastic form.
 

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