[Jayne Greye]

Part of Chapter 7 from the new Book, Backstories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MXLGQVB here. Backstories is a book devoted to developing the context for the female bodybuilders in the books Muscle Therapy and Muscle Love particularly concerning why they began lifting. I’ll post the rest soon. Let me know what you think..
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The first thing that I did was get a lawyer and prepare the divorce papers. I needed him out of my life as soon as possible. Doing even basic things were a problem though as I needed to hire a nanny and go back to work full time. Bill, of course went quiet for a while which meant he did nothing to contribute. Here he was working, making nearly two hundred thousand dollars a year while I made about a quarter of that and he didn’t pay a cent. I needed to go to court and make him help support Lyndsey, as I was finding therapies for her and paying for everything. What kept me going was that I had a great nanny who loved Lyndsey and my time at the gym.

I joined a MMA gym the day after he beat me up. I think the instructor knew. I will never forget how he worked me hard to get better and helped me focus on lifting to get stronger. Eventually, I fell more in love with the weights than the fighting and finally got some time to do something other than work, workout and take care of Lyndsey.

When we were headed to court, I had gone into debt to afford a lawyer. Still, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Confident in his intellect, and poor with his money, Bill arrived without a lawyer and was crushed. I’m not sure he wanted as much time with Lyndsey as he claimed, and I ended up with eighty percent custody. What really pissed him off was the money. He had to pay in order to help support us and although it still wasn’t enough, it allowed me to get some alone time at the gym that I desperately needed and to pay for Lyndsey’s therapies. I got stronger fast and that only encouraged me to workout harder and harder. When I hit brief plateaus, I studied and learned how to break through them and read up on supplements and performance enhancers too. As I became more confident, I knew I needed to change careers so I could spend more time in the gym and because I loved the environment and helping people. I studied to become a trainer and poured everything that I wasn’t putting into Lyndsey into learning that.

There was little time for a social life and my days became routine, workout, work, and take care of Lyndsey. With the schedule, it was hard to have much time for myself, but Lyndsey was my reward. I tried online dating but that was a complete bust. Nobody looked like they advertised and I didn’t have time to waste on continual first dates. As I grew more muscular, some guys were turned off by that too. Many, I’m certain were worried about their manhood because I was stronger than they were, or at least most of them. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to get stronger.

When I asked people at the gym they swore by an injectable steroid called Primobolan. Due to potential side effects with injectable steroids, I elected to try Oxandrolone instead because my need to grow stronger and protect myself at times overwhelmed me. Deep down I knew I was suffering from some kind of PTSD, but I continued to bury those thoughts and proclaim my normality.

Finding friends was a challenge too. At the gym as I grew and my max lifts skyrocketed, I drew crowds of admirers, but none were truly friends outside of the gym. I was fond of some of those I trained, and called some of them my friends, but meeting up with them after work was infrequent and difficult considering Lyndsey’s needs. Mother’s of special needs children formed their own groups to sympathize and share stories with one another. We also helped each other with ideas for therapy and education tools for our children. I thought for a time these women might be a much needed outlet for me and there were a few nights of drinking that led me to believe that would be the case. One night in particular was fun when I wore short sleeves after an arm day. I must admit, I was looking buff that night. As we got more and more drunk, the girls demanded feats of strength and in my condition I was happy to oblige. They called a guy over and offered to buy him a dink if he could beat me at arm wrestling. He was a young guy, probably a senior in college and athletic and when he came over I was a bit intimidated by his size and little afraid he might hurt me. I’d worked my arms that day and was shit faced, but when the girls counted down and we started I put him down in just seconds like he wasn’t trying. I figured he wasn’t trying and told him, “Let’s have another go around and I want you to try this time.”

“Naw, lady, you are too strong for me.” I thought he was kidding but the expression on his face suggested otherwise. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that I could really hurt Bill. I relished the idea. Anyway, as much as I enjoyed a few evenings like that with the girls, I soon realized that the other girls were a bit jealous of me. Not only was I physically fit, and most of them were severely overweight and out of shape, but the more significant thing was that Lyndsey was higher functioning than their sons. I’ve continued to maintain relationships with the group, but have grown more distant.

That night when I went home after I checked on Lyndsey and paid the babysitter, I went into my room, tossed my keys on the dresser, and began unbuttoning my top. I caught a glance at my shoulder and my biceps in the full length mirror by the closet. Remembering now how the girls had reacted to my muscle, I smiled a little. My shoulder was flaring and my arms, even unpumped, seemed so have gotten much bigger. I gave a little flex and saw what the girls had seen…mmmmm.. I stroked the peak with my other hand and felt a pronounced split. Maybe I’d grown a bit more than I realized of late. I reached up and took the clip that held my hair piled up loose in back and let it down. I shook the waves loose. BOOM, God I felt super sexy and powerful. I knew I had gotten stronger and bigger, but now with my buzz still raging I took more notice of what the girls had seen. I began unbuttoning my top, slowly and sexily and watched my biceps and forearms. Yes maybe, I was a bit turned on by myself, but I didn’t care. In fact, let’s be honest, I was completely aroused by my body.

“Alexa, play Geronimo by Aura Dione” I called. The song began and I threw my blouse across the room and began swaying to the music fingering my six pack abs. Suddenly, I remembered Lyndsey asleep in the next room. I ran to the door and closed it so she wouldn’t hear the music and walk in on mommy. I smiled at averting the potential emergency and then returned to the mirror. I resumed swaying again and slowly unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it. Watching my thigh muscles clench and unclench with the movement turned me on even more. I felt the wetness in my thong and I swayed my shoulders back and forth while my hands explored my muscularity. I twirled and raised my hands above my head, watching my ab muscles move with the effort. Finally, as the song reached the chorus, Gee, Gee ah Jojo Geronimo, I removed my bra and began to flex topless. Since I wasn’t dieted down as much as normal, my breasts were nice and full. I circled my nipples and chills ran through my body. I flexed my pecs like I’d seen bodybuilders do on the internet and marveled at how I could move them. God, I looked good, the definition in my biceps, the shoulders, the pecs. I cupped my bicep with my hand and felt its tremendous size and hardness. I took it all in and loved what I was seeing and growing hornier by the second.

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