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    A nice and friendly story of mutual growth.

    When Simon decides to get buff, it doesn’t take long for his friend Amy to join in. As they continue to build their bodies, they find out that challenging each other to grow makes things even more exciting!
    This erotic fiction contains male and female muscle growth (FMG). All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Get it here:

    The preview

    “Okay, wow. Wow. Holy … Simon. What … how did you do that?”
    Amy was smiling up to her ears and she was obviously fighting back the urge to ask and touch him. Simon couldn’t blame her. A year ago, he had been a typical 150-pound weakling, more on the skinny than on the fat side, and now, he was, well, fit? Not hunky or anything, but looking great.
    “I joined a gym and trained. I mean, I just worked out regularly, switched my diet around and …” He lowered his voice. “I even used some … supplements.”
    She narrowed her eyes. Seriously? This guy was really into it.
    “Okay … Wow. I didn’t expect you to go all the way.”
    “Hey, I didn’t. I just tried to get into it. And I love it! It’s … I just feel so much better.”
    “And you look better too …” She abruptly started waving her hands apologetically: “Not that you looked bad before, but …”
    “Hey, I get it. I wasn’t too impressed with my looks either. But you know what’s best about it?”
    She grinned now, sizing him up all over. Internally, she groaned. God, she was so bad at hiding her horniness! Somehow, tiny Simon ending up all buff … The idea turned her on already, just by thinking about it. She focused:
    “Tell me!”
    “The pain is gone. You know how you kinda always have some kind of back pain or something? Nothing. Nothing at all for a year. I’m walking on air. Plus, all the little shitty things in life, you know, carrying stuff, opening cans, everything … I don’t even feel it anymore.”
    She laughed:
    “Never make two trips?”
    She bit her lip.
    “Wow, Simon, I gotta admit, you’re making all of this look wonderful.”
    “Hey, it’s nothing.”
    “No, it’s amazing. And I want in too. You gotta take me along to the gym. I wanna be hot too.”
    “You think I’m hot?”
    She nodded with a dorky grin on her face. Under the café table, she slid a foot along his buff calves.
    “Hot like this coffee.”
    Now it was his turn to grin. Simon had been into Amy for a while now, but he had always been reluctant to tell her. The last year had really boosted his confidence, and he had finally summoned up enough courage to ask her out. It was working marvelously. He had assumed that Amy was into buff guys, but he had not expected her to be so … open about it.
    Then again, it was to be expected. Amy had been a gymnast as a kid, and had switched to track and field later on. She was a bit on the short side, but she had always been fit.
    “Anyway, sure, you can come along, I’ll pick you up tomorrow, but do you really think you need that? I mean, you’re already fit and everything.”
    Amy shook her head, still grinning.
    “Nah. You’re fit. I’m just … okay? I be like a fitness model. I mean, if you can transform yourself like that in just a year …”
    Simon nodded slowly. Somehow, the idea of her being all fit and even sexier … He leaned forward, took a deep breath to summon his courage. Then he whispered:
    “I know this is a bit unusual for a first date, but … either you stop turning me on, or we get moving.”
    He grinned and she whispered back:
    “Then we get moving.”
    He coughed, overwhelmed by what was happening, then said:
    “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. But … I gotta stay sitting here for a bit first. Getting up now might be … awkward?”
    She stuck out her tongue and raised her foot a little higher.

    They started working out together two days later. Things had come up, but then, at last, it was time. Simon was impressed. Amy never backed down and just showed that she would go through even the hardest routines with discipline and a smile. That one was a little creepy at first and it took a while to get used to, but apparently, this was a thing gymnasts were trained to do. As they proceeded with their workouts and got used to each other, she stopped doing it mostly, but occasionally, it still slipped out.
    Working out became a part of their daily routine and they would religiously stick to their plans, egging each other on and pushing themselves to outdo their previous bests.
    After a particularly intense session of squats which left them both with shaking legs, Simon said:
    “You’re doing it again …”
    Amy grinned maniacally and shook her head.
    “Whoa. Sorry. You know, force of habit!”
    “Yes, no problem. I just …” His voice drifted off. Amy was lying on the mat spread-eagled, with her leotard and weightlifting shoes, her hair tied up in a big scarf, and she was shiny with sweat. He sighed. “Wow. You are amazing, you know?”
    “I am? I mostly feel tired and sweaty.”
    “You are tired and sweaty. But the thing is, your motivation keeps pushing me too! It’s incredible! I mean, thanks to you, I hit my personal best for five reps today!”
    “You did? Awesome! No wonder you’re growing like a weed!”
    “Hey, so are you!”
    He could see that she was disappointed.
    “No, sorry. It’s all really slow now. I had a nice boost in the beginning, but now, it’s all gotten glacial. I must be on some kind of plateau, and … why can’t I put on mass quicker?”
    “Come on, Ames, you’re fine. You’re gorgeous, you’re buff, you manage to do the hardest workouts … Cut yourself some slack. You’re doing amazing!”
    She groaned.
    “Thank you, but … It’s not enough. I wanna get buffer!”
    Simon sighed:
    “Listen … there’s a kind of secret I probably should be sharing …”
    “Those supplements … They’re not all just vitamins and minerals …” He lowered his voice a bit. “I have been using a light steroid … I mean, it works, and I kinda like the feeling, so …”
    “Really? Wow! That sounds like a plan. Tell me everything!”
    “But … Amy, those are real drugs. I don’t think they’re really, really legal.”
    “Come on, Simon, do you really think that makes a difference? Spill it!”
    “Okay …”
    After cleaning up, they went home and he explained what he had learned. Amy was all ears.

    A week later, as they met in front of the gym, Amy was all grins. Simon asked:
    “What’s up?”
    “Guess what? I just got my delivery.”
    “Delivery? What did you order?”
    She chuckled:
    “The … thing? The one we were talking about? The, you know …”
    He nodded slowly, but he didn’t quite get it.
    “The what?”
    With a discreet smile, she unzipped her gym bag and showed him the pack of pills. She winked.
    “The … new gym gear?”
    He suddenly felt very excited:
    “So you’re really doing this?”
    “Absolutely! Can’t you have all the growth for yourself, right?”
    “And you’re sure it’s safe?”
    “The consensus on the net is that this stuff is ideal for women, and it has very little side-effects. It’s going to be great. You’ll see! I’m gonna get amazing results!”
    Simon could feel himself twitch with horniness. The idea that Amy would soon get a push of growth mad him shiver. She was already drop-dead gorgeous to him, but if she put on just a little extra muscle, she would be divine!
    “Just make sure you start slowly. You don’t want to risk your health!”
    “Yes, yes. I’ll just stick to the plan. It’ll be alright.”
    Suddenly, Simon felt a pang of jealousy. Then he said:
    “You know what, I’m going to try another cycle too. I have to keep up with the Amyses, right?”
    She blew a raspberry.
    “Afraid I’ll get bigger than you?”
    “Nah. But I’m wondering just how horny you’re going to get if I put on some extra mass …”
    She giggled:
    “Okay, you got me there …”
    She set her hands on his nicely rounded shoulders.
    “Simon, I admit, I just love that you’re into this as much as I am.”
    He kissed her. Then she answered. They probably should have checked in already, since a bulky dude interrupted to tell them they were in the way.
    They apologized vaguely and then went inside. Time to try this!

    The first week was an interesting experience. Slowly getting used to the gear, Amy was surprised to find that she could last a bit longer and that she somehow could push herself just a little further. It was a nice sensation. Simon already knew what was going to happen to him, or at least he thought so. Somehow, this second cycle really energized him.
    As they finished the first part, they were both getting excited for the second week. The tension was palpable …

    A few days in, they found themselves at the gym again, this time celebrating arms day. Right now, they were doing dumbbell curls and as they both closed in on the end of their sets, Amy suddenly felt this burst of energy. She grinned.
    “Hey, how about we just add another one?”
    Simon stared at her and raised an eyebrow. Amy was looking incredible like this. Her slim muscles were pumped from the sets, and she was quite sweaty already. Simon took a deep breath, the dumbbells still in his hands. He chuckled:
    “Okay … Sounds good to me. Just … don’t overdo it, okay? No sense in getting hurt.”
    “What, you’re not joining me on this?”
    “Nah, of course I am. Can’t have you have all the fun alone, right?”
    “Oof. I thought you would already be bailing on me!”
    “Me, bailing on you? Never. I’m in this just like you!”
    “Alright, then let’s do this!”
    They looked at each other and grinned. Then they started again, pumping out the reps. Amy counted them out slowly:
    “One … two … three … four …”
    The couple focused and slowly did the reps, the dumbbells going up and down in a slow, controlled fashion. No swinging, no using the momentum.
    By the time they reached number eight, Amy felt that she was beginning to falter, but she immediately heard Simon:
    “Don’t worry. You got this.”
    She smiled, a big drop of sweat falling from her brow.
    “I got this …”
    The young woman gritted her teeth and continued pumping. Her muscles were starting to burn, but she didn’t feel like giving up. She would do this!
    “Thirteen … fourteen … fifteen … Oof!”
    They breathed out sharply and lowered the weights. Their arms were feeling intense. As they rested for a bit, they grinned at each other. Simon said:
    “Okay, that was hard … Are you up for another one? They say women are great at endurance things …”
    “Endurance things?”
    “Marathons and stuff. I read it on the net somewhere.”
    “But isn’t that the opposite? I mean, this is strength training!”
    “It was about dealing with the pain.”
    “Ah. Whatever. Let’s do another set, come on!”
    He shrugged and started counting. Halfway through the set, though, he started to slow down. Amy saw it and gave him an intense glare. She would have said something, but right now, she was mostly dealing with the strain and didn’t want to say much. When she finally managed to hiss a “Come on!”, he immediately started again.
    Through this, they managed to push through the set. By now, their muscles felt as if they were on fire. As Amy lowered the dumbbells again, she was groaning from the effort.
    “Fuuuck … This is so intense!”
    “I know … I … wow … But we really did it!”
    “Yeah, we did … but … fuck … I’m gonna be sore in the morning!”
    “We’re going to have to shower with the garden hose after that thing, Ames!” He pointed at her with his head, his hands still holding the weights.
    Indeed, Amy was completely soaked, her leotard a shade darker and somewhat transparent in spots. As to Simon, his clothes were clinging to him and he was looking as if he’d gotten into a gust of rain.
    She rolled her shoulders:
    “One more?”
    “Nah … This won’t … How about we just go on until we can’t anymore?”
    “Okay … But isn’t that even worse?”
    “Maybe? Let’s just stop once one of us can’t continue anymore!”
    “Alright, your funeral …”
    With a nod, they started pumping. This time, it was insane. Every time Amy felt that she was reaching her limit with her arms screaming for release, she would look over to Simon who would encourage her with a nod or a pained grin, and every time she sensed that he was about to give up, she would glare or smile at him. At that point, the expressions were getting hard to tell apart …
    They forced each other to keep lifting.
    As they passed twenty more reps, their movements were starting to get slow and more and more often, they would be swinging the weights a bit to keep them going. The sweat was blinding them and they could only open their eyes a little since it stung this much.
    It was insane …
    Still they continued, grunting and growling at each other. At some point, they lost count, but still, they kept at it, their arms starting to shiver from the exertion.
    Then, at last, Simon hissed:
    “I can’t do this anymore … Please … stop.”
    “Stop if you want, I …”
    She was cut short when her arms gave out and she just dropped the weights. Happily, they missed her feet and just bounced on the gym floor.
    She groaned:
    “Wait, I just gotta pick them up again …”
    She went down to the ground, but then, she couldn’t even lift her arms enough to get a grip of the dumbbells. She rolled on her back, her arms useless at her sides.
    “Okay, I think we’re done for today!”
    Simon nodded slowly, lowered the weights to the ground and rolled on the floor next to her.
    “Fuck. That was stupid.”
    “Yeah. But I liked it. Also, this outfit is disgusting.”
    “It is?”
    “I think there’s more of me in that thing than in me.”
    The next day was bad. Amazingly bad. They had somehow managed to get home, and now, Amy was doing her best to recover. Her arms were extremely sore, and she could only move a little while dealing with the pain.
    However, she was surprised to find that by the afternoon, she was feeling acceptably well. Not perfect, but okay. She decided not to skip any days except for that one. Tomorrow, she’d be back at the gym!


    Sorry for the current delays, but real life got me all busy.

    However, here’s the fifth part of the collection for your pleasure!

    Butch x Bimbo
    Here’s the collected parts 361 to 450 of the story I wrote with MisterSnrub.
    With their relationship progressing, Kimmy and Tonya have a few strange and compelling adventures. Also, there are some BIG changes to Tonya.

    If you want all this in one file and if you want to support us, why not head over to smashwords and pay what you want!
    We’d be very happy for your support!

    Here’s the link:


    Here’s a new story the fans of women becoming big burly males might enjoy!

    Straightened Out
    Douglas is a disgrace. His grandmother is shocked. The young man has fallen into bad company and is doing nothing to build a life for himself. As she tries to figure out how to help him, she realizes that a boy needs a strong role model to look up to. She knows whta to do …
    This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, futa and gender-blending. All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Get it here:

    This is the sample:

    It was a bit surprising for Francine to still be nervous about things at her age. She was seventy years old, and she had seen a lot in her life. Good things and, to be perfectly honest, bad things. To find her heart beating with excitement as she walked to the mailbox was unexpected. Then again, today would be the day when she could say to herself that she had done her duty and finished preparing Douglas for his future. The poor boy had ended up with her after his parents’ death in that horrible car accident. He had no other caretaker in the world, and of course, Francine had taken him in, even if that meant moving him from his familiar environment.
    Back in the day, it had been a good decision, but lately, she was starting to question whether she had really managed to do her best. Not that Douglas was a failure … but his life choices were, well, not what she would have done in his situation. It probably was the combination of his father’s influence and him losing his family at such a critical moment in his development.
    Francine had never seen what Emily had seen in Roger, but what could she say? Her own husband had been a similar failure and disappointment.
    Somehow, she had the impression that the men in that family tended to be … underwhelming.
    She opened the mailbox and took out the stack of letters and ads. She looked them through immediately. Her heart beat faster. An ad for a carpet repair service … a letter asking her to contribute to a charity … a bill from the power company … a letter from her bank, updating her terms of service … another bill, this time from the utilities company …
    No college letter.
    She frowned.
    Was it the wrong date? No. It had to be today. She took out her phone. It was one of the simpler smartphones, and at least, Doug had taken the time to set it up for her. She unlocked it and checked the date.
    It was the correct day.
    What was going on?
    She packed up the stack of letters and went inside. Putting them on the upright piano, she called out:
    “Douglas? Douglas! Could you come here please? The mail is here!”
    There was some mumbled answer from his room, and then, after she called out twice more, he eventually showed up. To Francine, he was a sad sight. He was short and scrawny, always wearing those stupid oversized shirts, which only made him look worse. His pale face and somewhat bloodshot eyes suggested that he was really unhealthy, and that faint smell …
    Francine didn’t like this at all. He scratched his neck and looked at her stupidly for a bit. He chewed on the thin hairs on his upper lip for a bit, then asked:
    “So what? Are you the mailwoman now?”
    Francine did her best to control her growing fury. She was used to men being useless, she had worked as a secretary for decades to help keep the house lit and warm, but Douglas was really testing her limits.
    “Douglas, there must have been a mistake. Could you give me the list of colleges you applied to? I’ll phone them and tell them to send you a new invitation!”
    “Colleges? What colleges?”
    “The ones you applied to. You’re done with high school and you’ll go and study, right?”
    “Uh.” He scratched himself. “Nah. Why would I? This is just wasted money. I mean, fuck that shit. I’m not going to college just to flip burgers or work at Starbucks. I’m not gonna get some stupid loan … That’s … nah.”
    “But …” She took a deep breath. “Didn’t I tell you to apply? As an orphan, you can get a special scholarship. You’re eligible for that money, and studying won’t cost you a cent!”
    “Yeah, no. Seriously. Nope. I don’t have time for this shit.”
    He yawned and shrugged. Then he scratched his chin.
    Francine didn’t know what to say. She stood there, her mouth agape, her ancient body shaking. He looked at her passively, then said:
    “Anything else?”
    “Douglas, you can’t just … just do nothing! You have to study or get a job. You have to stand on your own two feet!”
    He snorted and gave her a sly smile.
    “I don’t have to do anything. I like it here, I got my side gig, and I think I’m actually a big help, after all, you need the money from my parents’ life insurance, no?”
    “I never took that money! It’s all safe …”
    “Yeah? And why don’t I have it now?”
    “Because … because you’re not independent yet!”
    “How can I be independent without money? Hey, Grandma, maybe you should get that looked at? Are you feeling confused? Dementia setting in?”
    He snorted.
    “How dare you talk to me like that? I took you in and I gave you a home!”
    “Yeah, yeah … Here it goes again. Hey, Grandma, it’s not my fault my mom married a guy you didn’t like. You don’t have to take out your issues on me. This is really stressful, and I can’t handle stress right now, okay? So, you know what, you’re going to just leave me alone and maybe do some old woman things and be an angry old bag somewhere else, got it?”
    Before she could say anything, he turned around and disappeared back into his room. Moments later, his music started again.
    She followed him and banged against the door. He ignored her and she opened it. The smell was even worse in here. She wanted to say something, but he got up and walked towards her. He was a weakling, but he was taller and younger than her. There was something threatening to him. He glared at her:
    “Get out. This is my place and you can’t be here.”
    “This is my house!”
    “Yeah. I don’t care. Get out. Now.”
    He didn’t have to put it in words, but it was clear to her that she couldn’t stay. She took a step back, then another one, and then, she closed the door from outside.
    Francine stood there seething. She was shaking all over, barely able to contain her fury. Her hands clenched and unclenched and she felt that she was going pale and crimson alternately.
    Then, unable to deal with this now, she ran out.
    The old woman walked down the street as briskly as she could. She was fuming. This was so insulting! She had to stop herself from screaming or crying. She kept swinging between those two extremes, desperate to find some way to vent this terrifying frustration!
    She was slipping down the same horrible slope again! Her husband had acted like this and held her down, her boss at the company too, and now, this ungrateful little … monster too.
    She realized she was quite far away from the house already, and her anger had cooled down into a cold fury. She had let things get this way! The boy was acting foolish because she had neglected to be firm and to teach him the values that would get him ahead.
    It was her fault, but it was also her responsibility to fix this.
    So she would.

    The next day, she received the book she had ordered. She had struggled a bit with the online shop, but eventually, she had picked the most recommended book.
    “Young Bucks – How to turn lost boys into upstanding men”
    The title was a bit strange, but she decided it was for the best. She read through the book quickly, and two days later, she was through. It brought her to a difficult realization. Things were going to be complicated. Basically, the book said that young men needed older men to be strong role models and to be ideals that they could look up to. It explained the various kinds of masculinity and which ones would be best suited to which kind of teen.
    It didn’t help her as much, since she had no idea where to get such a man. She briefly thought about maybe dating, but the prospect of getting into another relationship with some horrible old man made her shiver. She would have to figure something out. It did show her that the poor boy really was the victim in all of this. Roger had been the worst possible role model, a weakling that only managed to get even a bit of respect by being a horrible person.
    Also, as the book stated, ‘Moms make Monsters’, it was her fault for not being strict to him.
    While she figured out how to deal with this conundrum, she decided to take self-defense classes. She wouldn’t be threatened in her own home. Not anymore. Never again.

    “Okay, sisters, the most important part about self-defense is assessing the threat and maintaining confidence. If you show weakness, you will get hurt. Project strength, but be ready to flee when things get dangerous.”
    Francine nodded. Jessica was amazing! She was their instructor – instructress? – and she was in incredible shape. She stood tall and ramrod straight, like a model, with her strong arms hanging lazily by her sides. She was in her forties, and she carried her age with ease. Apparently, she had a teenage daughter named Kimberly who was causing her some trouble, so Francine could feel the familiarity. Jessica had her long curly brown hair tied in a big bun as she was demonstrating the stance. The other women, which all seemed small and weak next to her, did their best to stand in the same way. There were some crackles of spines, but she walked around the room, pushing the women into the proper positions.
    She could tell that none of these women were used to standing up to themselves. The mere act of straightening like this caused them to giggle or to blush. One of them, Mia, asked:
    “Are you sure I’m not curving backwards?”
    As she adjusted the next participant’s pose, Jessica shook her head.
    “Nope. Check out your reflection. Straight. The first time in years, I’d say.”
    “But … I’m trusting my boobs out like that! Won’t that make things worse?”
    “Do you feel worse?”
    There was a bit of hesitation, then Mia said:
    “Well … Actually, it feels good.”
    Jessica shrugged in her direction with a smile.
    “Here you are.”
    As she reached Francine, she asked:
    “Are you doing okay like that? I don’t want to push you too hard.”
    “Thank you for worrying about me, but it’s fine. I need to learn this.”
    Jessica helped Francine into the position, and the old woman smiled. This was working!

    A month later, the class was finished and Jessica congratulated her pupils. They had all worked hard, and Francine could swear that some of them stood a bit straighter now in everyday life. She herself had learned to say no and to stand firm, and it served her well. Doug had grumbled, but he had somewhat accepted it.
    There was one thing though.
    As the class filed out, Jessica stayed behind to clean up, and Francine joined her. The younger woman was a bit surprised:
    “It’s okay, I’ll just finish this up and …”
    “Actually, I’d like to ask you something …”
    “Go ahead.”
    “Jessica, we didn’t do much fighting, didn’t we?”
    The fit woman blushed and smiled.
    “Yeah. It turns out that most of the self-defense happens at home, not against some purse snatcher in the street. So, obviously, teaching you how to fight random people isn’t that useful.”
    “I liked the things you showed us, though! Especially the thing with the blocking and pushing.”
    Jessica nodded:
    “That’s great fun. I have to be super-careful teaching things like that. The last thing I need is someone falling over and breaking their hip in my class!”
    Francine laughed:
    “I get that. Still … Could you teach me how to do all that?”
    The buff teacher shrugged:
    “Of course, but … you’d have to get in shape first. That is … if you really are committed, it’d be an honor to help you.” Francine had told her about the problems at home, and Jessica was very sympathetic. “You know what, I’m going to set you up with a training and nutrition schedule and as soon as you’re ready, I’m going to teach you the advance techniques.”
    Francine’s heart skipped a beat.
    “Thank you so much. I … I just have to say that this is amazing. I … I can’t bear this stupidity at home anymore, so this help is really appreciated!”
    “It’s nothing. Just be safe.” Francine sensed the already familiar words coming up. “You can’t have Doug treat you this way. Please. Kick him out, call the cops on him. It’s not nice, I know, and you still remember him as the nice kid he was, but if he’s acting like this … you’re not doing him any favors.”
    Francine hesitated. Again. Jessica was making a lot of sense. And yet, she couldn’t do it. It was … too much? She had to figure out another way.

    Doug grumbled. He scratched his balls and checked the fridge again. To his frustration, nothing had changed. It was still full of these Tupperware boxes that had shown up lately. He was hungry, but the last time he had taken one of those, he had found out that they only contained tasteless chicken breast and steamed vegetables and some kind of grain thing that wasn’t even rice.
    Also, his grandma had been really furious when she found out. Not that there was much she could do, but he really didn’t need that kind of stress! He groaned. Why was everything so complicated? He looked around and found her purse. Francine was out jogging or something, so maybe she had some cash inside he could take.
    After all, he shouldn’t have to starve!
    He rummaged through her purse and found her wallet. Flipping it open, he noticed that it was rather slim. Was it the end of the month already? He didn’t care. He took a twenty and walked back to his room to order some pizza.
    Just then, Francine returned from her jog. Actually, it had been more of a run. She was impressed. The old woman had followed her trainer’s suggestions and they had worked wonders. She worked out every day now, only resting on Sundays, and the combination of strength, flexibility and endurance training had transformed her body. She was in excellent shape. Francine had visited the doctor for her yearly check-up, and the man had been seriously impressed.
    She had dropped some weight, but had filled that up with muscle, and she had managed to increase her bone density, as well as reducing her cholesterol levels and her blood pressure.
    The doctor had joked that she was in a better shape than he was now. She didn’t want to say it, but Francine was pretty sure it was true. The poor man seemed horribly stressed, and he was overweight.
    The thing was, leading such a disciplined life felt good! She had always been meticulous in keeping her home and doing her job, and now, it was the same with her body. She was far from proud, but she caught herself standing naked in the bathroom and flexing her muscles. It was odd to see the top four bumps of her abs form under her skin as she tightened them.
    If only she could get Douglas to understand …
    She had been reading more books on the subject, slowly working herself through the public library’s catalogue. Buying books was no longer an option with her current expenses for food and training. In a way, none of these books actually needed a second reading. They were clear. The key was the Alpha personality.
    What Douglas needed was a firm hand and someone to direct him and guide him so he could become a worthy man and not some useless slob. The idea fascinated her. She wondered how to find someone like that.

    More time had passed, and Francine was walking home in the evening. She had taken up a job at the gym and worked as a receptionist, using the employee discount on pretty much everything to support her fitness. She was sure that Douglas kept stealing money from her wallet, and coming home was always a bit stressful. Taking longer on the way was one method of evading him. Either he would be hanging out with his friends, or he would be asleep. She just had to hide the cash and hope he didn’t go rummaging through her things.
    As she came closer, she already heard the noise. Music was playing so loud the whole neighborhood could hear it, all the lights were on, and there were occasional crashes and bangs. Francine closed her eyes. She clenched and unclenched her fists a few times to focus. This wasn’t happening. Please, let me wake up. This was a nightmare …
    At last, she managed to summon enough courage to walk to the door and open it.
    She looked inside and felt paralyzed. There were six young men, plus Douglas, and they were merrily trashing her living room, throwing her fancy tableware around and smoking … whatever that was … right in her home.
    Doug was right in the middle, giggling and grunting, while some … disgusting movie was playing on the TV. There were bottles on the floor, spilling beer on the carpet. The whole place was a pigsty.
    One more guy came in and said:
    “Hey guys, the whole fridge is fool with some crappy health food! You can’t eat that shit!”
    He dumped the opened Tupperware container on the floor. Doug laughed:
    “Yeah, I dunno why my grandma does that. How can she even eat that shit? She must be going crazy!”
    That’s when he noticed her standing in the doorframe. There was a flash of regret passing over his face, but he instantly switched back to being his annoying self.
    “Hey, could you order us some food? We’re out!”
    A moment later, he regretted what he just said.
    Francine exploded into a ball of fury. She walked up to him and ordered him loudly and firmly to instantly clean up this mess and to throw those deadbeats out.
    Doug shrank under the onslaught, shocked by her intensity. Her voice got all shrill and loud and he was about to nod, when he caught the glassy stare of one of his friends. The guy asked:
    “Are you really going to let that bitch fuck you up like that, Doug?”
    Instantly, he recovered and scowled at her. There was a brief moment in which the situation could go both ways, then he screamed at her:
    “Shut up, you old bitch! I do what I want!”
    Her hand shot out to point at him and answer that, but without thinking, he slapped her right in the face, sending her to the ground. She caught herself and wanted to get back on her feet and do something, but Doug had already turned around and laughed:
    “Imagine being told what to do by some crazy old bitch, huh?”
    Francine left them, meek, broken and exhausted. The slap hadn’t hurt much, but seeing that her grandson was out of control like that made her sad and furious. She got in her bed as fast as she could and cried herself to sleep. The noise from below continued on and on and she only fell asleep in the wee hours.
    Her thoughts kept circling around this whole mess. She had to find some way to fix this. She absolutely had to …
    She would ask Jessica for help.

    “That sounds terrible. Have you considered calling the cops now? I mean, he can’t do this!”
    Francine sighed.
    “I … I … There must be a way to deal with this without making the situation worse.”
    Jessica was still shocked by what her friend told her.
    “No. No. You have to get the law involved. He is out of control and he is hurting you. No amount of family values is worth this abuse. Because that is what it is. It’s abuse.”
    “Look, Jessica, I took him in as an orphan. I can’t just dump him now that he is making things more complicated. I just need to assert control again and make sure he respects my authority.”
    The fit coach would have snorted with amusement at hearing that self-help lingo, but the situation was way too grave for any humor. She said:
    “Maybe … I could get some boys from the more … serious gym I know and they could rough him up a little? Make him see that he has made a mistake?”
    Francine thought about it. Then she said:
    “No. I wouldn’t want to see me as a dependent person that gets her power from other people. But I want to be safe. I would love to see this gym you are talking about. Could this help me?”
    Francine looked at the tiny old woman in front of her. Okay, she was no longer frail or weak, but the idea of having her hang out with the worst muscleheads and roidboys in town amused her. She replied:
    “If you think this could help you …”

    The first thing that hit her was the smell. The Bullpen was a weird place. The men, and there were only men, seemed entirely focused on their workouts. There was very little chitchat at the juice bar, especially since there was none. Instead, there was a big floor filled with machines and weights and the constant clanks of metal and the grunts of thick, muscular men.
    The sweat was tangible in the air. Also, the men were dressed in these bizarre outfits, tank tops with giant arm holes, huge leather belts and long shorts. The amount of tattoos and strange haircuts was also shocking to Francine. She was glad Jessica accompanied her.
    The men were a little surprised seeing them here, but barely interrupted their workouts. Instead, the two women found one of the bigger ones just finishing his coaching of another muscleman’s workout. Then he turned to Jessica, greeted her with a sweet kiss on both cheeks and said:
    “Welcome! I gotta admit, I was a little confused by your call …”
    Jessica smiled and introduced them:
    “Hank, this is Francine. Francine, Hank.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Hank.”
    Francine smiled at the huge man. She bet he had no problems getting rowdy teenagers to clean the house …
    He took her hand and gave her a little bow.
    “The pleasure is all mine. So, Jessica was a bit nebulous about this on the phone. What can I do for you?”
    “If you have time, I’d love you to train me. I can pay!”
    The enormous muscleguy stared at her, then at Jessica, then he asked:
    “Is this Candid Camera? Am I on social media right now?”
    Jessica shook her head.
    “No, she’s serious about it. Francine is the best student I ever had, and I’m afraid she is beyond anything I can offer.”
    “Uh-huh. Seriously? Ma’am, you must be aware that we are doing some pretty hardcore stuff here. This is not a health club, okay?”
    “Yes. It’s perfectly clear. But I still think it would help me.”
    “And this is not a prank?”
    “No. I am serious about this. Do you want to see me do a set?”
    The big guy was amused by the offer.
    “Alright. Do your warm-ups and then show me a regular set of yours.”
    Francine nodded, got her muscles into gear and unzipped the jacket of her tracksuit. As she took it off, Hank could see the definition on her slim upper arms. He nodded slowly and looked over at Jessica. The younger woman was smiling. As she noticed his look, she gave him an encouraging nod and whispered:
    “She’s serious.”
    Then Francine, eager to impress them for a bit, set the machine a little over her regular weight and started pumping out reps. By the time she was done, Hank was only nodding anymore. He seemed impressed enough.
    “Okay. Okay … Okay. You know what, I think I’ll take you. But there’s one thing …”
    Francine wiped her brow and took a deep breath, her muscles just a little shiny with sweat. She smiled at him:
    “What is it?”
    “You have to do what I say. When I say enough, it’s enough. Got it?”
    She nodded.
    “I’ll do my best.”
    Hank wasn’t too sure about what she exactly meant by this.

    Over the next weeks, Francine adapted to her new environment gladly. The boys were a bit surprised by her presence, and for a few days, the roughhousing subsided a bit and the language cleared up, but since she took this way too seriously and never made any comments, the tension abated.
    Instead, they collectively adopted her, spotting for her and sharing tricks and hints for more successful workouts. Francine reluctantly took up the “gym mommy” role, maintaining the birthday list and helping the boys with their cooking, calming the tensions when two guys on the peaks of their cycles clashed and generally keeping an eye on the place.
    Hank hired her once he understood that she needed the money and could be trusted. She now lived at the gym mostly. She trained, she managed the place and she cleaned it every day. She only returned home to sleep and sometimes, she even stayed at the gym for that. Entering Doug’s den and seeing how her place had been ransacked and ruined, how her belongings were being stolen and sold off and how the whole house was falling apart was just too painful.
    Better stay at the Bullpen.
    Whenever she felt angry or frustrated, she would add another set. Get the pain and fury out of her system by pumping more iron!


    This is just a nice, simple story about a young woman becoming more and more muscular, taller and bustier through mostly unexplained means. She gains success, confidence and love, though there is always a certain amount of awkwardness left.

    But that’s not bad, I think.

    Overall, I hope you’ll enjoy this one!

    Mar-Mar and Ophi
    Marcy is depressed and out of shape. When she decides to do something against that, an accident triggers a strange sequence of events that lead her to success, muscles, and love.
    This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, height growth and breast expansion. All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Get it here:

    The preview:

    Marcy took a deep breath. This was going to end badly. She knew it already, but if she managed to make her mother understand, then maybe …
    She opened her eyes. Marcy Lang’s mother stood in the kitchen, busy with the chicken, and frowned at her. That frown had appeared on her mom’s face one day, and it felt as if it never left her. Then again, Marcy found it hard to blame her. She was a disappointment on every level.
    When Marcy’s dad died suddenly of a stroke when she was seven, her mother had fought on, working two, sometimes three jobs, always busy, always eager to do that extra bit of work to pay for rent, food and Marcy’s school. Of course, she went to a moderately prestigious Catholic private school, one of those that attracted all the children of parents who wanted their kids to do better.
    Marcy had been … okay.
    And okay wasn’t enough.
    When her mother was home after a day of work at some fast food joint or cleaning in a hotel or tutoring someone in Chinese or ghostwriting some rich kid’s homework or … really, just any job that earned them money, she had usually already chatted with the other parents and found out that their kids were, well, better.
    Her disappointment had expressed itself in glares and frowns. There was little else she could do, tired as she was.
    Marcy was raised by the TV, the internet, some strange “aunties” that probably were related to them in some way, and second- and third-hand comic books she got in yard sales and from older siblings of schoolmates.
    At some point, she probably concluded that with no power came no responsibility, especially not for herself.
    By the time she hit puberty, she was a plump two-hundred-pound teen, with bad skin, bad posture and, honestly, bad grades.

    That was the moment when her mother met Charles Mou, real estate millionaire and charming weirdo. It had been a surprise falling in love when her mother worked as a shoe-clerk at the Chinese-American Dance Club. Her job was to make sure the regulars had their shoes taken care of and got them handed quickly and diligently when they arrived. She also had to send them to the shoemaker and get them re-soled in time.
    Anyway, Charles wanted to participate in a competition, but his partner had failed to show up after some trouble at home. He was quite frustrated by this, after all, he loved to win, and had asked her mother whether she would be willing to dance with him.
    She had said no at first, but then he had pleaded for her to help and she had told him that she would do her best, but that she couldn’t promise anything.
    And they won.
    One thing led to the next, and soon, they were married and Marcy ended up with a stepbrother.
    Wei was … okay … at first. He was mostly lonely and awkward, and he didn’t mind having Marcy around. She was five years older than him and actually tried to be an older sister for him. They had a few common interests at first, such as mythology and fantasy stories, and nerdy stuff like astronomy, minerals and computers. They even saw a falling star, probably some meteorite one night. They wanted to go looking for it, but her mother decided it was better to learn for the exam the next day. The business got delayed further and further, and then, they forgot about it.
    Living with Wei mostly worked, though he was relentlessly favored by his father, and, to Marcy’s shock, by her mother. This did go to his head, and soon, he started behaving that way. If he was better, than it was up to her to do what he wanted. When she refused, he started bullying her.
    As he hit puberty too, the situation worsened. While Marcy got fatter and fatter, Wei shot up and turned into a huge dude. He played basketball and soon made the team, turning from “who?” to the number one jock.
    From then on, Wei publicly distanced himself from her, and as his fame got more impressive, he started involving the other jocks to bully her. Of course, once that dam broke, the rest of the class joined in. Marcy was lonely and frustrated. She barely managed to survive with a couple of co-victims that stuck together with her. Their nerdy interests helped her cope with the horror.
    Eventually, Marcy was just happy to be done with school and to leave him behind. She started studying computer science and had managed to get by, but now, it was the moment of truth.
    “Mom …”
    “Yes, daughter?”
    Marcy hated it when her mother talked to her like that. The only thing that was worse was when she switched to Chinese mid-sentence.
    “Mom, I have bad news …”
    The older woman’s eyes narrowed. It was obvious that there she was already running all kinds of scenarios in her mind, and that none of them were positive. Her mother frowned at Marcy, her look full of judgment of her pudgy, helpless daughter.
    It took her a moment to compose herself, and then, she said:
    “What is it?”
    The disappointment already oozed from her words.
    “Mom … I … I … I have dropped out of college.”
    There was silence. It was the kind of silence that didn’t even cause that faint ringing in her ears. It was the terrifying silence of absolute contempt. Her mother had expected a lot of failure, but a disaster like that? No. No.
    The other woman’s eyes opened a bit wider, then she ruminated what she just heard. Marcy saw those bumps appear on the side of her mother’s face as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. She took a deep breath. Then another one. And one more.
    Marcy could feel the tension and cold anger radiate from her mother’s skin like the heat of the deeper hells.
    “Mom, I’m sorry, but …”
    Her mother cut her off with one look. She took another breath and then asked:
    “What are you going to do?”
    Marcy had expected a furious explosion, screaming, curses, kitchen instruments being thrown at her … She had wondered what she would do if her mother went completely berserk and literally tried to kill her because of the shame.
    Instead, she was hit even worse by this brutal pragmatism.
    It also showed her that she didn’t have a plan, and that she should have thought about this beforehand.
    “I … I don’t have a plan yet, but … I think I will … think about it and …”
    “This is not good enough.”
    “But …”
    “I doubt that your stepfather will support you if you don’t have something to show. Qinqin, you will have to do something at least. We will not tolerate you just being lazy, understood?”
    The chubby young woman stared at her mother. Somehow, this was bad, but not … terrible. She said:
    “Okay. I’ll try to figure this out and find something …”
    The tiny older woman scowled at her.
    “You will not try. You will do something. And you will succeed.”
    “Mom, I …”
    The expression on the older woman’s face made it clear that the discussion was over.
    Marcy sighed and left, feeling even worse than before. Even if she had this college thing finished, she wouldn’t be allowed to relax and reduce her stress.

    Her intuition had been right. The next morning, she found a stack of pamphlets of various companies in computer-adjacent fields on the breakfast table, as well as a ton of printed websites of schools that offered quick entry-level coding classes. There was also a prospectus of some diet coaching service. Marcy really wondered how her mother had managed to gather all this up so fast.
    She did her best to ignore them and poured some sugar-frosted dinosaurs into her bowl, then added the milk and the cocoa.
    The breakfast of champions.
    She had spent all night chatting with Ophelia, her only remaining friend from school. She hadn’t bothered going to college and had instead started working at a tattoo parlor even while in school, then set up her own.
    “Lolita Needles” had been a bit intense as a name, but she had attracted a fair number of customers and people liked her goth-y designs. Marcy had thought about maybe getting one, but with her skin and her figure, this would distort and look stupid in no time. Ophelia never had these kinds of problems. She was always slim, and quite good looking. She loved to wear fishnets and tight pants and corsets and other goth apparel, and Marcy was kinda jealous?
    Of course, Ophelia had offered to give her a makeover, but Marcy had declined in panic. This wasn’t a look she could afford to wear, not with her figure! And even if she only put it on in private … She couldn’t bear the revelation of the full catastrophe.
    Ophelia had done her best to support her yesterday, and she had done her best to keep her spirits up. Marcy decided to honor the faith her friend had put in her. She would try to improve her fitness!
    So, after she was done with her breakfast, she got into her very roomy tracksuit her mother had bought once to shame her into training, got on the bike she still had from one of those awkward birthdays, and set out into the woods close-by.

    To her surprise, it was somewhat nice.
    Okay, it was hard and she barely built up any speed. Plus, she occasionally had to push that stupid bike because she was too exhausted and it was starting to wobble under her. But the cool of the forest was nice, the green leaves above her, the sunlight dancing between them … All of that was good.
    Now all she had to do was finish this track and head home …
    She reached the top of the climb now. The sweat was running into her eyes, soaking her long black hair and making her deeply uncomfortable with that stupid helmet. Then, the salt started burning and she had to close her eyes to push it out. It was a deeply annoying thing and she lost focus for a moment.
    She tried to open her eyes, but it burned and her body was aching, she was breathing hard, and then, she lost control.
    Suddenly, the bike went faster!
    Marcy only understood she had passed the top of the hill when the bike started accelerating uncontrollably. Afterwards, she knew she should have braked. However, panicked as she was, she released the pedals and the wobbling bicycle rolled off the track.
    She screamed in panic, which didn’t help the situation, then her bike disappeared into a hidden gully under a huge mass of brambles. The thorns tore into her skin. Happily, she was too shocked by the sudden loss of control to really notice this.
    Then she broke through the bottom of the shrubs and fell two yards into some dusty, dark mass of old leaves and broken twigs.
    It hurt, but not too much. However, she wasn’t able to enjoy this surprise “mattress” that broke her fall, because she sank in the thick tide of leaves. Everything turned dark around her and she was afraid she would drown in this, but then, she pushed herself up and emerged under the roof of brambles she had broken through. Her bike was hanging above her from the thick, thorny branches. She looked around in the twilight. This place was somehow ancient, and it didn’t look as if any human being had been here in years, or even decades. She felt some rustling movements in the leaves and squeaked in panic.
    Marcy started pushing through the waist-high “waters” and waded towards the shore. She constantly felt something tickling her legs, working its way into her tracksuit’s pants. Maybe it was just an illusion, but she found it terrifying.
    At last, she reached the edge of the “pool” of leaves and climbed out, resting on some sandbank by the side of the hole. She wondered how she would be able to get through all those brambles, and how she would get her bike out from above her.
    Just then, one of the bushes broke down and dumped the bike into the leaves. It disappeared under them.
    She sighed. This changed the situation without improving it.

    Marcy leaned back and tried to catch her breath. She was completely exhausted now. The biking was bad enough, but the crashing into a hidden cavern and working her way through a heap of dead leaves with no clear exit certainly ruined her day.
    “Okay”, she said to herself, “This is it. Never again. I tried getting fit, but if this is literally the first thing that happens, I’m not doing this again. I learned my lesson.”
    She dropped on her back and looked up. The ceiling of brambles was dark and closed out most of the light. Suddenly, she thought: Why can I even see anything down here?
    Indeed, there was light enough for her to see even the individual thorns, which made her shiver. She was covered in scratches and bruises, and now that the initial shock wore off, she started to feel them. She winced.
    “Ow …”
    She looked around to distract herself. There had to be a reason …
    That’s when she discovered some white light illuminating emanating from a part of the cave. It was on the other side of the sea of leaves, but maybe it was a way for her to get out? She decided to rest some more and then, as she summoned enough courage, she dove back in and pushed through the creepy mass of dried vegetation. She could swear that every creepy crawly in this cave was trying to get to her now, and she felt their touch all over her.
    Then she struck the bike.
    Marcy was pretty sure that her scream could be heard all the way home. Not only did she bump her knee badly, but the simple touch of something invisible under the leaves made her panic. Only when she realized it was the bike did her heart stop beating like crazy. She took a deep breath and reached down into the depths and clumsily pulled out the frame. Then she dragged it noisily through the pit and hoisted it out. Then she crawled after it and laid down for a while. Her clothes were sticking to her body and it felt absolutely disgusting.
    She rested for a bit, then stumbled to her feet and went looking for that light source. She turned a corner, and saw a white crystal half-stuck in the wall. The stone was shining brightly, almost too much to clearly see. She wondered where that thing had come from. It did look fascinating, though, once she got a good look of it.
    Marcy thought about it. No one must have cared about this in decades, if the mess in that hole was any indication. Maybe … No. Screw this, she wanted compensation for this mess. Without further hesitations, she grabbed the crystal and wiggled it until the earth around it crumbled and she could hold it in her hand. It was warm to the touch, but not in a bad way. For a second, she thought that it could be some radioactive mineral. Maybe she should check this later. For now, she just wanted to have it.
    She stuffed it into her jacket’s pocket and returned to the bike, then started the long and arduous climb to get back to the surface.

    Marcy returned home much later. She was completely exhausted from the walk back. She had tried riding the bike again, but she had turned so wobbly that she was afraid she’d fall over again. Instead, she had pushed it all the way, pulling it angrily over roots and rocks. She was tired, she was angry, and she was frustrated. If this was what getting fit was like, then she didn’t want to get fit. She just wanted to be dead.
    This way, the pain would stop.
    At least, the bike wasn’t broken. That was the only good thing about this whole catastrophe. Then again, it was also a bad thing because it meant she wouldn’t have an excuse to never, ever try this again.
    For a moment, Marcy thought about maybe just losing the bike in the woods, or maybe rolling it on the road at a red light. Some passing car would maybe solve her problem and she could go back to her normal, frustrated self.
    She didn’t do it in the end. Instead, she pushed on, happy to at least be able to use the tarmac now. Less bumps made the effort somewhat acceptable. She still didn’t ride it, though.
    It was the early afternoon when she finally reached the mansion’s gate. She fumbled for her keys in the depths of her tracksuit’s pockets, couldn’t find them, and barely managed not to cry. Then she rang. There was no answer.
    She slipped down at the gate, leaning against the post and just sighing. She didn’t know what to do anymore. Where did her keys go? Did she really lose them in this stupid, stupid, stupid! hole?
    She fumbled for her phone and wanted to call her mother, but couldn’t summon the courage.
    Instead, she called Ophelia.
    The other girl answered pretty much immediately.
    “Marcy? How do you do?”
    “Ophelia, do you have time?”
    “Yeah, sure, next client is due in half an hour or so. What’s up? You sound sad and exhausted!”
    “I am sad and exhausted. I hate my life. I rode that stupid bike, I fell and I lost my keys! I’m tired, I hurt and I’m still fat!”
    She started to sob, and then, the tears started streaming down her face.
    She howled and cried and Ophelia couldn’t do much more other than going “You did it, you didn’t hide, you’ll see, it was a good thing to do it and everything will be better …”
    Eventually, the chubby girl managed to calm down enough to stop crying and wiped her snot into the sleeve of her tracksuit. She sniveled and Ophelia said:
    “Don’t worry. The first time is always bad, and it can only get better. But you took the first step, and remember the bomb.”
    That made Marcy sigh, and then laugh.
    Back when Ophelia had started tattooing, it was all very experimental and stupid. While other tattooists started an apprenticeship of sorts at a studio, Ophelia somehow came up with the idea to try a more hands-on approach.
    The thing was, she decided to try tattooing herself first. She got herself the ink and some needles, and then tried to ink an ankh on her hand. She was a goth after all, and the design seemed easy enough. It wouldn’t be much trouble and she’d figure it out. Besides, she could show her work to a master and convince him to train her.
    Everything would be wonderful.
    The problem was that Ophelia couldn’t deal well with pain then. So the first prick was okay, but by the fifth one, she couldn’t summon the courage to continue anymore. As a result, she called Marcy, who came over to help her. It wasn’t much support since Marcy was shocked by the whole needle business, but then, they ended up taking shots of cheap whiskey, and before they knew, they were both tipsy.
    Marcy tried to stop Ophelia from continuing the tattooing, but since it didn’t hurt much anymore and she felt both reckless and motivated, she tried some more.
    In the end, there was something on the back of her hand. It just didn’t look too much like an ankh. Very little, actually.
    It looked more like one of those old-timey bombs. The black round ones with fuses.
    And it only did with a fair bit of imagination.
    When they sobered back up, Marcy felt terrible because she hadn’t stopped Ophelia from doing this, but the young woman shook her head and declared this to be her first tattoo, and that she had done what she could.
    It was a beginning, and she would improve.
    She never had it covered up. Ophelia had a wonderful sleeve tattoo, but there was a kind of capsule in it, just to make space for the “bomb”.

    Marcy couldn’t help but smile at the mention of the tattoo. She took a deep breath.
    “Thank you, Ophelia. That was … Oh …”
    She sighed happily and dried her tears.
    “It’s alright. You’ll be fine. Now, let’s look for your keys. Maybe they are around here somewhere?”
    Marcy left the bike, hoping in the back of her head that maybe someone would steal it, and retraced her steps. To her immense relief, she did find her keys on the curb a few blocks away. All the while, Ophelia did her best to keep her spirits up, and now that Marcy had them back, she thanked her friend again and again.
    She trotted back, then said goodbye.
    “Thank you again. Thank you so much! You saved my butt. I owe you one. No, screw that, I owe you two.”
    “Hey, relax, it’s what friends are all about. Now go and relax a bit.”
    “Okay, but I owe you close to infinity. And you gotta accept that.”
    “Fine. I accept that. Don’t worry, Marcy, everything will be well.”
    Marcy almost finished their conversation with “Thank you, I love you, bye!”, but she instead just said “Goodbye.”
    As the words crossed her mind, she wondered where that had come from. She could also swear that Ophelia had started a similar sentence. However, it all ended with “My client has arrived. See you and good bye!”

    At last, Marcy unlocked the door and pushed the bike inside, then dumped it carelessly by the door and headed inside. Without bothering to undress or shower, she just lay down on her bed to relax a bit. She’d do that later on, not right now. Just shut her eyes for a moment and rest, she’d do everything else in half an hour or so.

    Marcy was wide awake. Where was she?
    The place was hard to distinguish. The light was so bright …
    She could hardly see anything.
    Maybe there were some shapes around her …
    Were those people?
    She couldn’t really see them.
    They were singing, though. Singing … no … chanting.
    What was it they were saying?
    Was this even a language she knew?
    It felt familiar, on a deeper, visceral level.
    It sounded like a language she had never heard before, but which still resonated inside her on a kind of metaphysical level.
    It seemed to her as if she knew it from a life before this one … From a time before being born … A previous incarnation?
    Maybe it was even stranger.
    It might be something from before life itself.
    Were those even sounds?
    They seemed to be waves that didn’t need to pass through her ears to be understood by her mind, not even formulated in an actual language.
    “Rise … rise … rise …”
    The chant passed all around her, enveloped her, filled her insides, echoed through her body and her mind.
    She opened her eyes wide, the white light hurting, but she had to overcome the pain.
    Marcy saw an enormous crowd of white shapes or creatures moving chaotically like grains of salt in a tornado.
    And yet, they all seemed focused on her …
    “Rise … rise … rise …”
    She now managed to deal better with the light, but her first realization was that she was somehow naked.
    Why would she be naked in front of a crowd of thousands?
    What kind of demented fantasy was that?
    Why did she feel awake, even if this clearly was a dream?
    She realized that the whole hallucination was becoming even stranger. She had only the vaguest idea of sizes and distances, but she could swear she was getting bigger …
    The idea was even more ridiculous than the rest of the situation, but she was already so confused it barely mattered anymore.
    “Rise … rise … rise …”
    The crowd seemed to like what was going on and intensified its chanting. They were now starting to move in a more orderly pattern. As she floated above them, she could swear there were some individual beings she could distinguish.
    They did not look human.
    Marcy struggled to find words in her mind that would allow her to describe what she saw.
    She was so confused …

    She opened her eyes.
    She was in her bed, still wearing the tracksuit and feeling covered in dry sweat. The chubby young woman rolled over to her nightstand and glared at the alarm clock.
    Apparently, it was seven o’clock. She had thus slept through the afternoon. Hm. That was okay, she guessed. After all, she had been exhausted after her bike trip.
    Then she noticed that the sun was shining through her window which opened to the east.
    That was, to say the least, unusual for evenings.
    Shocked, she sat up.
    Then she shook her head to reprimand herself for randomly cursing.
    It didn’t change the fact that it was early morning, though.
    Marcy wasn’t even feeling bad.
    Far from it.
    Actually, she felt great. Sweaty and sticky, but great.
    She walked over to the bathroom and undressed, then threw the tracksuit in the trash. She checked it out once more to make sure she didn’t throw anything away she still needed. That’s when she found the crystal in the remains of the tracksuit. She took it and set it on her nightstand. It glowed dimly. It was a comforting, friendly light …
    She only now realized just how many rips and tears that suit had. Her whole body was covered in bruises and scratches. And still, she felt okay. Good, even.
    She got in the shower, cleaned herself, washed her hair and relaxed in the warm water. Then she dried herself and carefully cleaned the little wounds, disinfecting them with little winces of pain.
    With trained hesitation, she stepped on the scales.
    She stared at the number. What had been 312 for quite some while now was now 308. She stepped off the scales and tried again. 308.
    In just one day? Okay, she had skipped dinner yesterday, and she had that stupid bike trip, but still …
    She nodded to herself.
    “Maybe it’s true?”
    She bent down awkwardly, lifted the scales and gave them a shake, then set them back down.
    “Wow. That can’t be right.”
    Deciding that it wasn’t the time to question this any further, she went downstairs to grab some breakfast. Maybe things would make sense after this …

    She walked into the kitchen, heading for the big box of unicorn sparkle sugar crunch she usually had for breakfast when she suddenly stopped. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea … If she really had this success early on, why not push on?
    She hesitated, then looked around. She found her mother’s jars of nuts and grains, and an apple. Then she got busy, slicing everything up and putting it into a bowl, before grabbing the milk from the fridge.
    She tried it.
    She took another serving. This time, she added a tiny teensy spoon of honey. It was wonderful. Marcy was surprised. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a pleasure, but somehow, she enjoyed eating this. She finished it and sipped the rest of the milk.
    “Aaah … That was surprisingly good! I dunno what’s going on, but … yay!”
    She got dressed and ready to go out when she noticed that the bruises and cuts on her body had already faded. She was surprised. This was nice. Marcy wondered why this was happening, but she decided that this was a sign of the heavens. Time to train and stick to it!
    As a result, she got everything ready and then actually went out on the bike again. She was a bit wobbly at first, but this time, things went way better.
    She struggled along the trail, clenching her buttocks and her jaws as she went over an especially bumpy bit. She was sweating profusely, fighting her way upwards, holding the bike on track with all her rather minimal strength. The whole procedure was terrible, but all the way, she kept her hopes up. This was bad, but she would prevail. She had survived yesterday, she would survive now.
    Even more, she would be successful!
    It went well enough at first, but when she reached the apex of the trail, she gritted her teeth and hissed to herself:
    “Okay, here goes nothing!”
    She started rolling downwards, her feet firmly planted on the pedals, her hands clenched on the brakes. She would do this. She wouldn’t crash again …
    The bike went faster. She hit the brakes, it started to wobble, she did her best to compensate. Releasing the brakes a bit, she let it gain some speed and fought to keep her eyes open. The next thing she would buy was a sweatband. She needed one of these. A lot.
    She assumed she was looking pretty awful right now, her hair sticking to her face, the helmet looking stupid, the sweat, the tears, the whole expression … but she was managing to go through that part without losing control.
    She dodged the ravine easily, actually, she couldn’t really see it as she rode by. There was no time to look around. She was in control, but the bike was still going pretty fast, and her position was, well, precarious.
    She passed the last part and emerged from the forest like a very sweaty, rather exhausted wild beast. Marcy stopped the bike and managed to remain standing. There, she suddenly raised her arms and shouted in triumph.
    “Yes! Yes! Yeeees!”
    A lady with an annoyed little dog stared at her as if she had gone mad. Marcy couldn’t care less. She was a disgusting blob of tired fat, and she had managed to beat the trail that had beaten her first.
    The woman walked away faster, trying to both not look at her in disdain and stare at her in disgust.
    Marcy picked the bike up again.
    “Again! I need to do this again!”
    She got on the bike once more, pushed herself off clumsily and then, rode back along the trail again. It was now or never. She had to prove to herself this wasn’t just a coincidence.

    Hours later, she returned to the mansion. If she had thought she had been exhausted yesterday, she could only laugh about her naivete today. She had somehow managed to do three laps of the circuit, the third one coming close to being very dangerous once again. She had slowed down a lot, and the bike had become extremely unstable. She had succeeded only because of dumb luck and sheer focus, but she had succeeded.
    What more could she ask for?
    The answer was easy.
    A bath.
    Seriously, she felt disgusting. She peeled off the tracksuit which clung to her rolls of fat like saran wrap and stumbled into the bathroom. While the tub filled with warm, enticing water, she tried to do some stretches she had seen on the phone once. They had been in one of these pictures one would save and never look at again.
    Besides, she didn’t manage to do even half of the exercises.
    The bath, however, was wonderful.
    She let her sweaty body soak in the big bathtub her stepdad had had installed. It was amazing. She felt herself float in the water, just enjoying the relaxation. She even turned on the little sprays in it, getting them to massage her tired body.
    She never wanted to get out, but eventually, the water did feel a bit cold and she climbed out with a grunt. She took one of the huge towels her mom loved, wrapped her chubby body into it and stumbled off to her bedroom.
    Moments later, she flopped on her mattress and somehow fell asleep instantly.

    Marcy awoke two hours later from the mighty rumble of her stomach. The sound was shockingly loud, more intense than she had ever heard. She was immediately wide awake, and felt a little ashamed. Also, she noticed how her hair felt horrible, having dried stupidly against her mattress. She groaned, slipped out of the bed, stared at the train wreck that was her haircut and got her brush, then carefully untangled that monstrosity.
    At last, she was done, and her stomach kept protesting. She grabbed her phone absentmindedly and fired up the fast food delivery app. A nice big pizza should be enough, with an extra bottle of soda.
    Just as she was about to hit the order button, she stopped. Getting pizza now would be stupid.
    She had done splendid work up until now. Having this carb bomb now would ruin her efforts. Maybe …
    She slipped her bathrobe on and walked down to the kitchen and plucked the business card of the health deli her mother liked to use from the fridge. Moments later, she ordered a whole week of deliveries. This way, she would have to stick to it. At least, she hoped she would …
    Once the order got through, she returned to her room and slipped on her comfy clothes. She went over to Wei’s room, found a box of protein bars and picked one. He wouldn’t miss them, and maybe, she could make good use of them.
    As she bit into it, she groaned. Okay, that stuff was … nasty? It tasted like cardboard and old chewing gum. She hesitated. Was it really worth it? Marcy was sure she could find a nice chocolate bar if she rummaged around in her room for a bit.
    She took a deep breath and ate the rest of the bar. It flaked in her mouth, the disgusting structure only making the whole thing even more gross, but then again, this kind of stuff had worked for her stepbrother, right? She just had to stick to it, and she would get her results.
    She sincerely hoped she would.

    A little later, a rather cute delivery guy showed up on his e-bike and brought her two boxes, one for now and one for the evening. She smiled at him, he did too, though he was probably just being polite. She thanked him, he nodded vaguely, and then, he was gone. She carried the food inside.
    Up until the door, she was careful, slow and measured. She didn’t want it to look awkward should the guy take a look back. Then, the moment she was inside, she stormed to the kitchen, stuffed the lunch box into the microwave, zapped it and tore it open.
    The chicken and steamed vegetables combo, the soup and the salad side tasted like heaven. It was the hunger, Marcy was sure, but it was a good feeling nonetheless. She finished eating, and, to her surprise, she felt pleasantly full. Not stuffed, just sated.
    She leaned back and said to herself:
    “That was good. I don’t know why or how, but … yeah. I think I could get used to this!”
    She put away the box which would be returned with the next delivery, then got back up to her room. All of this action deserved a little playtime as a reward! She booted up her computer, a rather impressive setup she had had her parents pay for back when she was still going to major in computer sciences. As soon as it was ready, she went for her favorite game, a rather complex, thoroughly moddable piece of software that she loved to screw around with. She wanted to start a new game and see how her gnomes would fare in their next attempt at building a castle, but the driver of her graphics card acted up.
    She groaned.
    She rubbed her temples and said to herself:
    “Seriously? Okay, back to the old drawing board …”
    Moments later, she was immersed in discussion boards and documentations, trying to fix the driver problem. It took three hours to figure this out, but she wasn’t angry. Instead, she felt proud. She had even had to assemble a bit of code from bits and bobs to make it work, and she had enjoyed this.
    After an hour of gnomish castle-building, she found herself drifting back to her ancient wish of creating her own games, and then, she loaded up the coding tutorials the college dudes had suggested. She was absorbed again …

    Two months later, Marcy was jogging through the park, her feet skipping over the ground at a reasonable pace. She had somehow managed to lose 140 pounds, an absurd amount of weight that had her visit the doctor simply to see whether she was actually healthy. The doctor had examined her and declared that she was surprisingly fit, and that her vitals had all improved. She had previously been at risk for diabetes and cardiovascular problems, and that had somehow fixed itself. She was quite happy by the change, though she wasn’t quite sure how her exercise routine would have achieved something like that.
    Still, success was success and once the doc declared that she was light enough now to jog, she had taken this up too. Lately, it was more of a run than a sprint. She couldn’t explain it, but she could enjoy it. Her skin had cleared up, her hair was glossy and strong, and she didn’t even mind that people looked at her as she passed by. The main reason was that their looks were no longer judging, but more friendly. All in all, Marcy was having fun!
    Maybe that was the big thing: She was having fun. She was doing the things she now enjoyed doing, and it helped her tremendously. Just as she was rounding the fountain and heading for the hill at the far end of the park, she was thinking about that coding problem that had stumped her yesterday evening. After getting her programming groove back, she had found a few guys who needed help with their big game project, and she had read up on Unity and was now contributing daily. They even hooked her up with other guys and she was earning a bit of cash like that!
    Life was good again. No. Life was good for the first time! At last, she felt strong and in control.
    That was another thing. After switching to jogging, she had started some strength training, mostly isometrics and a few exercises using household implements. The thing was, she was now able to do five pushups in good form, and she could squat nicely, which, combined with her fitter butt, made her feel even better.
    She still had to get some new outfits, but since she was still losing weight rather quickly, she didn’t want to “spoil” it by settling in too quickly. The only thing she had gotten herself was a smaller tracksuit, simply because the last one had become unpractical. Also, Ophelia had insisted to accompany her the moment she felt ready. They hadn’t had time to meet up since, but they texted each other constantly, encouraging each other and having fun.

    After ten laps in the park and a well-built-up sweat, Marcy returned home, her body soaked, but feeling great. She had stretched already and was now looking forward to hit the showers, get her post-workout protein shake and then get that piece of code to work. She had jotted down her ideas on her phone and all she needed now was to see whether her intuition on that thing was good.
    The cars in front of the mansion were the first sign of trouble. She spotted Wei’s Maserati on the ramp. Fuck. Those cars presaged trouble. She was pretty sure Wei was up to no good and he would have his jerk friends around too. Then came the music. The sound was pretty awful, loud and pumping. Compared to the nerdy soft pop she liked, this kind of noise made her tired and frustrated.
    She decided to just stick to her room, close the door and put on her noise-cancelling headphones.
    Then she opened the door to the main hall, and the smell of weed, the perfume, the girls in skimpy outfits, the jocks, the noise and the laughter and splashes from the pool made her decide that no, she wouldn’t take it anymore.
    She wouldn’t let Wei spend the next weeks being a jerk to her. Especially as the “guests” started making rude comments in her direction, laughing at her and pointing. Apparently, Wei had talked about her in college. Some of them were even people from her old school, and they were just as shitty …
    She walked to the pool. Wei was in the water with a gaggle of girls that were all over him. Marcy had to admit that he was big and hunky and that it was unsurprising they would adore him. She tried to get his attention, but he couldn’t even care to ignore her. After a bit of waving and calling, she went over to the massive sound system, and switched it off.
    The party took a few seconds to grind to a halt, but once it did, they all stared at her.
    Wei emerged from the water and strode over to her looking down on her:
    “What the fuck do you think you are doing, ‘big sis’?”
    The last words came out slathered in disdain. She was about to turn and run, but she forced herself to stand her ground.
    “This is my home and I need to study and work. You can’t be so loud!”
    “You? Study and work? When did that happen? And what’s with the clothes, lard girl? Did you finally stop to be less of a pig?”
    He poked at her midsection and Marcy instinctively flexed her abs. They weren’t strong or anything, but they were there now, and despite Wei’s massive biceps, she felt quite powerful in that moment. She could see the surprise on his face.
    The other people were staring at them now, but Marcy decided to go on the offensive. She grabbed the soft layer of flab on top of Wei’s abs and pinched it.
    “Not looking so tight anymore, huh? Too much partying, too little working out?”
    She couldn’t believe she was just saying this, but she had obviously hit a weak spot and her brother seemed quite furious at this.
    “Stop that, piggie! Don’t touch me with your fatty fingers!”
    Marcy grinned smugly and raised an eyebrow. The other people seemed unimpressed by Wei’s reaction and his taunt. She pressed on.
    “The way this is going, I’m gonna beat you in athletics at Christmas.”
    “What? Are you seriously doing this?” Wei lost his cool for a moment, then recovered. He got his phone and started streaming. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, this here is my chubby failure of a sister. She has just issued a challenge: Apparently, she believes she can beat me at athletics. Cute. Well, if she wants that, she can have it! We’re going to compete at three events: Weightlifting, arm wrestling and running. And we will do this by Christ …”
    She cut him off:
    He stared at her for a moment, unable to believe what she just said. He managed a rather stumbly “Okay, Thanksgiving it is …”
    Then he continued:
    “Yeah. Anyway, we will stream it, I will win, and the loser”, he pointed at Marcy, “will obey the winner”, he gave the camera a smug grin, “for a year! Got it?”
    Marcy was a bit surprised by this, but she suddenly had that crazy glint in her eyes and said:
    “Fine by me. Looking forward to it.”
    Wei stopped the stream and silence fell. He scowled at her and hissed:
    “You just signed up for your funeral, lard girl.”
    Marcy did her best to keep a calm face and said:
    “Cute. But I’ll give you a better reason to cry.”
    Then she walked away briskly to get a shower and try to figure out how and why she had just done this, which was quite obviously the dumbest thing she had ever done.
    At the same time, Marcy somehow felt confident that she could do it. No. She knew she would be able to do it! She would make her brother regret his stupid words!

    When she came out of the shower, the party had collapsed on itself and the rich kids had packed up, probably to cause chaos and confusion somewhere else. Marcy fought hard within herself to stay calm. The doubts came back and pushed against her, making her feel stupid again.
    She shook her head to clear it.
    She had to start somewhere, and she really had no time to waste. As a result, she went down to the basement to see whether Wei’s stuff was still there and usable. She slipped on a fresh set of workout gear and opened the door to his former refuge. As the lights went on, she nodded to herself. This could work …
    Wei had accumulated a massive set of fitness equipment down here, having run their dad’s credit card to its limit at one point. She had no idea whether all those machines were actually useful, but she was sure they were the best one could get for money.
    She explored the room and found a large freezer full of protein-charged food, boxes and bottles of supplements and whey protein, and even a smaller fridge of injectables. No wonder Wei had had such an amazing growth spurt …
    Marcy finished her round and sat on one of the machines, moving its steel arm. Alright, she would figure this out …


    Here’s part six of our ongoing series!

    Butch x Bimbo – Issue 6
    It’s the collected episodes 451 to 540 as written by MisterSnrub and me.

    If you want all this in one file and if you want to support us, why not head over to smashwords and pay what you want!
    We’d be very happy for your support!

    Here’s the link:


    Here’s a new one!
    If you enjoy a terrible old woman stealing young people’s and superheroes’ strength to turn herself young and powerful, you will be very happy with this!

    The Doubler
    Michelle Vanderprijs has used decades of her life to assemble the secret components to cast one mighty spell which will allow her to regain her youth and to grow beyond that. And she is willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to achieve her goal.
    This erotic fiction contains age regression, female muscle growth, power theft and breast expansion. All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Get it here:

    The preview:

    “That will be all, Vincent.”
    The ancient woman smiled. Her pearly white teeth shone for a moment in the fireplace’s light. The butler nodded:
    “Very well, Ma’am. I will retire now. Do not hesitate to call on me if you need anything.”
    “I know, Vincent. I know.”
    He left, leaving her alone in the large study. It was a strange, almost gothic place. The high walls were covered in bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, and her enormous desk, blackened by decades of work, was covered in stacks of bizarre diagrams and curious symbols.
    As Vincent walked away, he smiled. His employer of forty years had this strange quirk. It was understandable, in a way. Being old like that, over a century, must be terrifying. Watching one’s body fail and collapse … He shook his head to clear the thought.
    The old woman’s passion was a harmless hobby, one that he couldn’t take seriously, but didn’t think anything of. Some collected butterflies, others went to the theater, what did it matter if a Michelle Vanderprijs collected strange books and spent her evenings poring over them? As the saying went, poor people are crazy, rich people are eccentric.
    He opened his room’s door with a yawn. Another day of good work. Now it was time for bed!

    As the house went quiet, the old woman stood up from her armchair and eagerly opened the boxes she had received today. At last, she had all the ingredients! It had taken months, and several expeditions, very expensive ones to that, to collect the various items needed for the ritual. And now, it was time!
    Michelle had discovered her knack for magic in her forties after the death of her third husband. Boris was the only one of her half-dozen she actually missed. He was a horrible person, of course, but one that could dish out as hard as he could receive. Their relationship had been turbulent and intense, and when he had died in a pool accident, she had mourned him … for a while.
    Back then, she had first used her magic to make the authorities accept that a healthy, strong and experienced athlete as Boris could die of a sudden heart attack in a pool that was five feet deep. It had been a bit of an improvised event, but once she understood that spellcasting actually worked, she dove into the subject.
    Collecting books of magic, recognizing which ones were real and which ones were pathetic fakes, it all took a long time. She found the grimoires in the most unlikely places, and as her power grew, so did her wealth. After the death of her sixth and final husband, she had managed to become absurdly wealthy, and from that day on, she had devoted her whole energy to discovering the final piece of the puzzle.
    Now, at last, she could accomplish the great work.

    Michelle carefully unrolled the special carpet she had knotted from her own hair over two decades, The carpet bore the magic symbols that would allow her to extend her life and return her youth to her. She took out the candles, set them in their jade cups and lit them with a sprig of cedar. As the herbs she had worked into the wax started to burn, emitting a strange, heavy perfume, she sat in their middle, took out the small casket the expedition had brought last and opened it. She dropped the nail clippings, the knot of hair and the ball of skin that contained bits of her endometrium into it. Then she pricked her finger and let eight drops of blood fall into it.
    She arranged her ancient, crumbling bones into a cross-legged pose and started to chant. She had learned the spell by heart over ten years, and although her body was weakening daily, her mind was as sharp as ever.
    The smoke from the candles started spiraling around her and she felt that the magic was rising. It flooded her body, it entered her mind, and as her chant reached its apex, she felt it made the back of her brow vibrate.
    She gasped, but held on tight, her spindly fingers locked around the casket.
    She opened it slowly, a greenish light emerging from it. Then, she reached inside and pulled out a small, humanoid figure that had formed from the ingredients. The thing squirmed in her hands, but she didn’t hesitate.
    Michelle opened wide, and swallowed it whole. She felt it struggle as it went down her throat, and then, it was gone.
    She groaned and closed her eyes. The old woman rested a bit, then opened them again, looking at her hands. Did they look any younger?
    She sighed.

    Michelle had to admit that she was disappointed. She blew out the candles and opened the window to let the smell escape. Then she checked again. Still nothing.
    “But the spell did work … I wonder what it is I am missing …”
    She returned to the desk and rummaged through her piles of notes.
    “I translated everything correctly. This … I must have made a mistake …”
    She knew magic was hard and fickle, and mistakes could cost one dearly. Maybe she had overlooked something …
    Then, suddenly, she stared at one of the notes she made when she started her research all those years ago. She breathed out sharply.
    “Of course.” She shook her head. “Michelle, you are getting old. Tsk, tsk. It’s not even a rookie mistake.”
    She took out the grimoires, spread them across the room and went through the relevant parts again. At last, she declared:
    “So it does need a source. I should have thought of it … Well, now that it is done, there’s no sense in waiting any further … It’s a shame, really.”
    The old woman walked slowly to her desk, opened a drawer and extracted an ancient revolver. She opened the chamber, checked the bullets and summoned her butler.

    Vincent was surprised to be called by his employer at such a time, but it was the least he could do. He quickly threw on his uniform, then ran through the mansion before slowing for the last few steps to regain his dignified stride. One last check of his sparse hair, and he knocked.
    “Come in.”
    Her voice didn’t sound unhappy. He wondered what she could need …
    The butler opened the door of the study and was surprised to look into the barrel of the gun. Before he could say something, Michelle fired. The first bullet struck him right between the eyes, and he collapsed instantly.
    Michelle watched him fall, and she could sense his lifeforce emerge from his body, then flow over the floor like some ectoplasmic trail, and enter her body. She shivered. Then she felt the energy build up within her. Her heart beat stronger, slower and more resounding in her chest now. The sensation was both elating and terrifying. She dropped the gun and had to cling to the desk to prevent herself from falling.
    Her bones seemed to rearrange themselves, hardening, growing back, pushing her into an upright posture. Her teeth reformed in her mouth, pushing out the implants that broke from her jaw, which instantly reknit itself.
    Her hair recovered its sheen, growing thicker and thicker by the moment.
    Michelle watched her skin thicken, the age spots receding and her nails recovering their hardness. Her muscles, long atrophied, fought themselves back to life and she felt herself turn lighter and more confident.
    She gasped as she looked at the mirror of polished silver she used for her magic. Her face was still old, but it looked confident and strong now. She had to be in her fifties at worst, and she looked better than ever before.
    Slowly, carefully, she squatted down, and her knees complied easily. She laughed.
    “It worked! It worked! I am back! Yes!”
    She wanted to dance, and she did. Her feet flew over the carpet, and she giggled like a schoolgirl at the sensation.
    With a wide grin, she tore the old-lady frock from her recovered body and admired her rather toned physique. She wasn’t looking strong or anything, but she was no longer a decrepit mummy on the way to the grave.
    Then she realized she needed more!

    The next morning, the gardener got out of his car. He stretched. The morning workout had done him good and he felt ready for today’s work. There was a nasty old stump to be removed from the back of Madam Vanderprijs’ garden, and it would be hard work to remove it since he couldn’t use heavy machines. Still, sometimes, the old way was the best.
    He walked to the garden door and was surprised to see an unfamiliar woman working on the flower beds. Was she a new hire? She looked kinda old.
    “Hello! Are you new?”
    The woman stood up and turned to him. She wore a pretty floral dress and an apron, rubber boots and gloves, as well as a large straw hat. She smiled:
    “In a way, yes. You look good, Jack. Young.”
    “I do? Yes. Yes! Thank you. You’re nice too.”
    “You think so? Well, I’m going to look even better.”
    “What do you …”
    Before he could finish the sentence, the gun went off. The gardener got hit in the chest. He stared at the bullet hole, blood spurting from it.
    “Why …”
    She fired again. This time, the shot hit his forehead. The man fell like a tree. Michelle looked expectantly at him and saw the flow of energy drift towards her. This time, it was much more intense than with Vincent …
    The magic flowed into her and she had to sit down in the grass as the energy overwhelmed her. She could feel her muscles tighten, her skin grew soft and taut, her breasts rise and regain their perkiness, her butt grow rounded and tight.
    Her hair cascaded down the back of her head and recovered its copper color. It looked even more vibrant than before. She gasped as the spell touched her insides too. She could feel her sex rejuvenate. Her vulva became full and inviting again, and as it did, she felt moist and aroused …
    She had to take some time for herself. Only when her craving was satisfied did she get to her feet again. Leaving Jack’s shriveled corpse lying where he had fallen, she headed inside to look at herself in her mirror. Her dress was feeling strange on her as she flew inside. It was so tight …
    She stared at her reflection.
    It was her, but … more. Eighty years ago, she hadn’t looked like this. The woman in the mirror wasn’t a weak, starving girl. She was a pale huntress with freckled skin, bursting with vitality. She had long, strong arms and legs, a magnificent chest and the posture of a Greek statue. Michelle gasped. Something had gone, not wrong, but different.
    She smiled like the summer and ran her fingers through her copper locks. Everything about her suggested lust and innocence, while her eyes showed deep wisdom and power.
    Michelle knew she would have to verify her research, but for now, she was somewhat content with the results. She would have to try this newfound strength eventually, though …

    Michelle rushed to her study, taking the stairs in large, fast leaps. She felt as if she were flying! It was elating. She suddenly whooped with laughter, then pushed herself off and cartwheeled through the corridor with perfect ease. She landed on her feet, dizzy from the excitement, her body glowing with health. The mere memory of her previous frailty was fading like a bad dream. She stepped inside with a powerful push of the door and had to catch the knob before slamming it into the wall.
    She had to learn to gauge her strength and control her intensity for now, although everything within her told her no! She was young and strong now, and she had earned this through her ruthlessness. Did she really have to hold back?
    With a wide grin, she vaulted the desk and landed in her chair. She no longer felt the need to sit straight. Instead, she laid relaxed on it, spending a moment to admire the perkiness and fullness of her breasts. She had never had a bust like that, and the idea that she could have had it if her youth hadn’t been so terrible annoyed her. Now that she was young again, she deserved to enjoy a true, liberated time in her life.
    Still, she had to find out why the spell worked in this strange way, so she went through her notes again. Not needing glasses anymore and having her mind racing with newfound energy made the procedure much less cumbersome than before. In no time, she tapped one of the paragraphs with her finger.
    The translation was a bit wobbly, of course, but at no point had the spell actually meant to return her youth. Instead, it allowed her to absorb the lifeforce of her … victims. This wouldn’t reduce her age, it would make her more vital. And every person whose energy she absorbed would increase her power.
    She grinned. Now that was interesting news! The more powerful, the more energetic, the more fruitful the absorption would be.
    Michelle mused about the situation and rang the bell for her butler. She waited for a moment until she realized her mistake. She snickered.
    “Oh Michelle, you are getting absentminded in your old age …” She jumped to her feet and said to herself: “Well, since I am a self-made woman once again, I should get busy and find me some good candidates!”

    Devin was at the gym, finishing his biceps curls. He was preparing for his next show, and though he was “just” a middleweight, he was pretty certain that he would easily win the overall too. After all, he had worked carefully to build up his natural strength, and he had achieved a kind of muscle maturity that the bigger men who had forced their growth quicker couldn’t hope for. His max was way beyond what most heavyweights could achieve and he was quite proud of it.
    He did one more rep for good measure and carried the dumbbells back to the rack. Just then, he saw this goddess walk down the hall. Oh Lord, what a beauty …
    His throat went dry and he could feel his hands shake. The usual gym girls were nice to look at and Devin had spent many nice nights with them, but none of them had ever been as statuesque as this one.
    The young woman walked with the confidence of an amazon, her long copper locks cascading down her strong shoulders. She was wearing a gold and emerald green workout set, and her top perfectly framed her creamy, full cleavage.
    Devin was overwhelmed, and even more when this woman turned out to head for him. She looked him in the eye and smiled. There was some kind of wisdom, or experience to it, and it went straight for his heart.
    “I was told you are the best and strongest?”
    “Uh … Yeah. I am. Yes. Devin. And you are?”
    “I’m Michelle! Pleased to meet you.” Suddenly, the young woman’s demeanor changed and she switched to a lovely smile and a kind of innocence that instantly caught him. “Could you show me how these things work?”
    He had a hard time focusing, his mind constantly drifting to dreams of what he could do with her …
    “Are you sure you need pointers? You’re so fit already!”
    As if only now noticing, Michelle lifted her arm and gave her biceps a slight flex. A rounded, strong shape emerged. She almost giggled:
    “Oh, this? No, this is just the way I am. I must have some kind of talent.” She grinned: “Or maybe it’s magic!”
    He couldn’t help answering her smile:
    “Then I would think you are a natural! Congratulations! You’ll make great gains, then!”
    “Oh, I’m sure of that, especially with your help …”

    Soon later, Devin was pushing her against the wall of the VIP showers. She sat on his thighs, and he sank his cock into her, hammering at her in wild abandon. Michelle held him tight, getting him closer. Feeling the young man inside her was a wonderful feeling, but what made her even more excited was what was going to happen next! He grunted as he drove his cock into her, clawing at her tits and her back, while she covered him in kisses and ran her fingers through his hair. She looked him in the eyes as she tensed herself, bringing herself closer and closer to the edge.
    Devin was losing his mind with this wonderful woman. The perfume on her overwhelmed him and the taste of her soft skin made him shiver. They found their rhythm and soon, Michelle was gasping deeply, producing soft, yet intense little moans. Then, she felt him twitch within her and she opened her eyes wide as he brought her to her climax.
    With a twist of her mighty arms, she snapped his neck, and as he collapsed under her, she felt his lifeforce flow into her.
    She rested against the wall as the energy flooded her, her body seemingly swelling with power. Michelle watched in awe as her muscles grew bigger and harder. Her bodyfat melted away as she grew ripped and strong. She could see how she turned from an amazon to a demigoddess. Her skin seemed to glow and the sheer size of her arms shocked her as the transformation ebbed. She stepped over the shriveled husk of the man she had just destroyed and looked at her reflection in the floor-length mirror.
    The sight was incredible. She stood tall and confident, her shoulders wide and powerful, her muscle-packed arms hanging lazily at her sides. Her chest had spread outwards and grown bigger, and she counted eight hard bumps on her midsection, framed by a network of obliques.
    Shaking her columnlike legs, she flexed them, letting the quads jump out and turning around with a dancer’s swiftness. She admired her diamond-hard calves and stretched.
    With a smug grin, she left the showers and found the big bench in the middle of the VIP locker room. She squatted down in front of it, grabbed one of the legs and lifted it up in one controlled movement. She could sense the weight strain her muscles, but despite the difficult angle and the steel frame, she could easily manage. She held out the bench at arm’s length, then flexed her biceps hard to slowly make it rise. With a chuckle, she set it down again. It was now standing on two of the legs, touching the suspended ceiling lamps.
    She laughed. Life was easier if one was strong!


    While not containing any muscle growth, this new story includes enormous butts, and that is nice too!

    This story is a continuation of Greed ( Erin and Monique’s big ass fetish has only been escalating. Now, a new player has entered their game: Donna, Monique’s mom, has fallen in love with Erin and goes all in to seduce her with the power of her own expanding ass.
    This erotic fiction contains breast expansion and butt expansion. Super-massive butt expansion! All characters are at least 18 years old.

    It also is a bit incesty.

    Here’s the preview:

    Erin flipped the little box open again. It had this springy effect to it. First, it wouldn’t open fast, and then, it would pop open with the faintest click. And there it was. The ring. This one would be their engagement ring. It was beautiful. She had designed it herself, well, the idea. The actual work had been done by a jeweler, of course, but it was amazing. It was made of two intertwined ribbons of gold, one rose and one yellow, made to look like eternal snakes. It was appropriately nerdy for the both of them.
    That was good.
    The bad thing, though was the rest of it. Erin had practiced her proposal in the mirror. She had tried it under the shower. She had even shocked a little old lady in the street by trying her routine on her once without warning. The woman had just run away as fast as her ancient legs could carry her.
    Still, she couldn’t summon the courage to go through with it. She didn’t fear rejection, she knew she could trust Monique on that, it was just that she didn’t have the carelessness her friend showed in these things. She was constantly coming back to one hundred things that could go wrong during her spiel. A slip of her tongue, somehow saying Monique’s name wrong, dropping the ring, fumbling the box, even pinching Monique’s finger with the lid …
    It was a constant parade of irrational fears.
    Also, there was the thing that it was perfectly possible that Monique wouldn’t want to get married. After all, there was the thing with her mother. Donna. Donna was a cool and interesting person, though she had a tendency to sass. To brutally sass. Seriously. Donna was a force of nature, and she was fickle. As far as Monique told her, her mother had been married thirty-something times already, usually in frustration.
    Monique insisted that her mother craved compliments, and any man who was vaguely interested and charming had a shot with her. It wasn’t as if Monique didn’t love her mother, but she was … exhausted by those antics? The moment the guy gave off some signs that he liked this or that, she would dive in fully and get it in spades.
    New husband loves blowjobs? No problem, Donna would basically attach herself to his cock and suck him dry until he couldn’t get hard anymore.
    Hubby enjoys schoolgirl play? Lil’ Donna got you covered, you get an apple on your desk every morning and the amount of giggles goes through the roof.
    She even had a guy once who was into big muscle dominatrixes, and Monique was just glad the guy had enough before her mom started shooting herself up with gear.
    The thing was, Donna was a handful, and most men got overwhelmed by her enthusiasm, realizing that what they thought was their fetish was just a passing interest. Donna took them seriously, and she just kept pushing. The men would then either run away or decide that she was too needy and get some side-chicks.
    Hence divorce, hence bitterness.
    To no one’s surprise, Monique wasn’t too sure about marriage.
    Erin, on the other hand, wanted this to be a thing. She might be an ass-craving lesbian, but she still wanted a loving family, and she wanted everything to be official. So she decided to need Donna’s approval. And she had to get her shit together for Monique’s return.
    Erin set this as her deadline. Monique had her business trip coming up. She would go, and the moment she was back, Erin would pop the question! She breathed out sharply and nodded to herself. She would do this.
    Don’t look back!

    Just as she had made this vow to herself, there was a ring at her door, followed by pained sobs, a few bumps and a cry of agony. Surprised, Erin got up and opened the door. It was Donna, and she was in tears. She immediately embraced Erin and hugged her, soaking the shoulder of her top in her tears. The young woman didn’t know what to do, so she held her in her arms and carefully directed her inside, closing the door with a gentle push of her foot. Then she led her to the couch and waited for the intensity of the moment to die down. It took a while. Donna bawled her eyes out and decried her terrible fate.
    “And he leeeeft meeee …”
    Erin was a bit overwhelmed and caressed her:
    “Who did?”
    “Barry … I loved him and he was sooooo … niiiice …”
    Another avalanche of sobs and cries went off and Erin couldn’t do anything other than go “There, there” and hope for her almost mother-in-law to recover.
    “I did eeeeverything for him and he just stopped loving meeee …”
    The young woman hadn’t met him, but she decided it was best to agree to the overall gist of things. She patted Donna’s back and held her tight:
    “What a horrible man! It’s such a bad luck to end up with bad people!”
    “Noooo, it was aaaaall my fault! He was soooo charming and friendly, and I aaaaalways scare them away …”
    “Okay, what happened?”
    “Barry, he loved wild chicks, you know?”
    Erin made vague movements with her head. She had no idea what that meant.
    “Okay …”
    “I saw him look at a video and I could tell he liked them, cos they had those sleeve tattoos and piercings, so I got myself some slip-on sleeves and had my tongue pierced and showed up at his job to surprise him and … I was wild!”
    The blonde stared at her love’s mother and didn’t know what to say.
    “I went all in, you know? I wanted him to be happy! And he … he leeeeft!”
    She broke into tears again and leaned against Erin, who kept patting her back and shoulder helplessly.
    Eventually, Erin managed to ask:
    “Should I get you something to drink?”
    Donna nodded tearfully and the blond-haired young woman got up.
    “Maybe something stronger?”
    Erin grinned and went to get her a glass of whisky instead. She brought it over and Donna held out her hand. For the first time, Erin got a good look of her future mother-in-law. She had seen her occasionally, but since the situation was usually very intense, she had tended to be a little distracted. Now that she got the chance, she couldn’t help smiling. It was clear where Monique had gotten her good looks. She had a rather slim waist, a pair of nice, rather perky breasts, and a butt that was amazingly enticing. Of course, Monique had spoiled her a bit, but she had to admit that it was a sight to behold.
    The moment of distraction was enough for her to fail at the most basic task, and somehow, they ended missing each other and the glass of whisky landed on the floor, shattering, but thankfully missing the carpet.
    Without batting an eye, the older woman got on her knees, pulled a pack of handkerchiefs from her handbag and started wiping the spilt drink up. Erin did the same, and now, they were both on all fours, going “sorry, sorry” and trying to fix this.
    Erin had to admit that she did check out Donna’s behind as it wiggled up in the air. Also, this didn’t go unnoticed by her guest. She smiled dreamily and Donna said:
    “I like it too. It’s nice, huh?”
    She wiggled her butt a bit more, letting her butt cheeks wobble and clap. Erin bit her lip and tried to look away.
    “It, uh, is. Yeah.”
    “Thank you. I’ve been taking good care of it. Lots of squats, lots of good eating. It’s a lot of work!”
    “Yeah … yeah …”
    Suddenly, the mood changed:
    “What do you think? Is mine better than Monique’s? Especially after that whole implant business?”
    Erin was a little taken aback. Donna hadn’t taken well to their obsession, and the ultimate result had shocked her. Donna had seriously chewed her out after this, explaining how Erin was supposed the mature and serious one in their relationship, while poor nerdy Monique just tended to do whatever crossed her mind. The amount of shouting and pointing had caused Erin to fall very silent and almost cower.
    “It’s … better. Bigger, rounder … You can be proud of it.”
    “That’s right! I love it.”
    She sat up and slapped her cheek. Somehow, the man trouble was all but forgotten. Instead, she seemed laser-focused on Erin. Donna got up and showed her butt, encased in tight jeans. She wiggled it some more and her host was a little confused. Why was this happening now? What did Donna want now? Didn’t she understand Erin’s attraction to Monique?
    “It’s amazing.”
    “Do you think I should get it bigger?”
    “Oh. Uh … I …” Erin tried to interpret Donna’s expression. The other woman seemed very open to the idea. The young woman decided not to fight her on that point. “Sure. Bigger is better!”
    “You’re right!”
    Donna took Erin’s hand.
    “Thank you! You’re such a nice and friendly girl … Thank you so much for being there for me. I think I can deal with it now.”
    She hugged Erin, letting her breasts brush against the slimmer girl’s chest.
    Then she sauntered off, not without first fixing her make-up.
    Erin stood there, completely overwhelmed by the sudden change of mood. She shook her head and went back down to pick up the remaining shards.

    “I miss you so much … Monique, I wish you were here. I wish I could at least talk to you! So, here I am, writing little messages like it’s, I don’t know a hundred years ago, and hoping they reach you. I think of you every day, and … just thinking of you and your sweet juicy butt makes me sooo horny! It’s incredible. I just have to think of you for one moment, I don’t even have to look at your picture … Just think of your name, and I’m all ready for you! I just hope this job of yours is good, because I want it to be worth it. I want it to be worth me being all horny and desperate for you.
    I love you with all my heart.
    Love, Erin”
    She sent it. Again. Erin had no idea why the network service in that weirdo country Monique had gone to was so bad, but in three weeks, she had barely managed to get one little message through, and Monique’s reply had probably been long, but included mostly (parts of message missing). She wondered why that was? Was it some kind of censorship software? Maybe she should try going all romantic poetry on her. Just use beautiful words for her love.
    “Oh, Monique, last night, I had the most wondrous dream. I was walking the green fields of our home when I encountered a marvelous peach tree, whose peaches had grown as big as melons! Can you believe that? Of course, I had to give them a taste, because you know that I adore the sweet taste of peach on my tongue …”
    She chuckled at the idea, then, out of sheer desperation, sent it anyway. To herself, she added:
    “Monique is gonna think I’ve gone crazy.”
    She sighed, then got herself off. It just wasn’t the same! She missed her lover’s touch, her humor, her dorkiness, and, of course, her desire to be the biggest and best.
    Only after a bit of … thinking did Erin find the relaxation to go out and deal with everyday things.
    At the supermarket, she was surprised to hear a familiar voice. A woman was arguing with someone rather loudly:
    “Oh, I am pretty sure you were checking me out, my dear sir! How about you keep your eyes to your wife’s butt?”
    The mumbled protests were met with more criticism, especially regarding the general nature of men and their necessity to stare at women all the time. Then the woman went on:
    “Bah! Men! I think I’ve had quite enough of them. You can’t trust them. Always lying, always coming up with excuses! Bah! Shame on you!”
    “But I didn’t do anything …”
    “Don’t act all innocent! I know full well what you’ve been up to, ain’t I right?”
    Erin heard another woman’s voice:
    “You’re right, sister!”
    “You see? Even your wife agrees!”
    “She’s not my wife …”
    “Well, you better get to it then, boy! I wouldn’t pass up on a lady like that if I were you!”
    The other woman laughed:
    “You heard the lady, Dave! Get me a ring!”
    “Gah! I was just … Oh, come on!”
    Erin chuckled and rounded the aisle, then smiled at Donna, who was just watching the couple leave, seeming strangely satisfied. Then the blonde’s eyes went to her mother-in-law’s ass. Wow. What happened there?
    She felt something stir deep inside her. Donna’s ass had grown. And by grown, Erin had to say, a lot. How did she do it? Each butt-cheek was the size of a beach ball, and they were massive, round and tight. Donna was wearing the stretchiest jeans imaginable, and the denim looked painted on on those globes.
    Erin swallowed. She could feel herself get horny, but she knew it was a terrible idea! She couldn’t hang out here, staring at her mother-in-law’s magnificent ass while her lover was busy working in some stupid no-reception-country.
    Then again, that butt was absolutely spectacular …
    She clung to her shopping bags and tried to calmly retreat, when she realized that this would come across as incredible weird and impolite. So she smiled even more broadly and walked up to her:
    “Hi, Donna! Nice to see you.”
    Without hesitation, the older woman threw herself at her, hugging Erin hard. Her victim was so surprised by the sudden show of affection that her hands went to Donna’s back and she hugged her back. Only then did she realize that her hands had preferred not to try the back. Instead, they were resting on that big, full booty.
    Donna grinned and cocked an eyebrow.
    Erin felt just how incredibly taut that ass was. She could swear she heard it creak and crinkle. What the fuck?
    The black woman chuckled:
    “You noticed my sweet new booty too, didn’t you?”
    “Uh, it’s hard to miss …”
    “I took your advice, and it was the best decision ever! I feel so sexy!”
    She shook her creaking cheeks, then flexed her glutes, making the enormous implants bounce. In the background, a woman covered her kid son’s eyes, while an old man dropped a jar of pickles as he went slack-jawed.
    Erin was blushing a deep crimson. She couldn’t be standing here looking stupid … Also, Donna was turning her on, and she was causing a ruckus.
    “That’s … good, I guess? I’m happy for you!”
    “So, how about you give my cheeks a good squeeze, since you already got your hands on them?”
    “But …”
    “Butt! Yeah. Mine. Here!”
    Donna pointed and smiled. She had this irresistible look to her. It was similar to Monique’s, but Erin’s lover had the faintest insecurity, while Donna was just unadulterated, horny sexiness.
    “We should maybe take this elsewhere?”
    The massive-assed woman laughed:
    “Definitely. I gotta get out of these jeans … They’re way too tight for my big juicy cheeks! I don’t want to blow my pants right here in the supermarket!”
    Erin gasped. Fuck all this. She had to do this, and Monique would understand, hopefully …

    They stumbled over Erin’s doorstep, the groceries spilling all over the floor. Erin tried to say something along the lines of “At least let me put the milk in the fridge …”, but Donna wouldn’t have it. Instead, she flexed her glutes and pulled on the stitched-on back pockets of her pants.
    Erin stopped and stared, then the pants ripped with a cracking sound and the fabric retreated instantly. Donna’s inflated ass spilled out like a continental drift. Erin gasped:
    “Oh God …”
    “Hey, don’t take the Lord’s name in vain …”
    “Yeah, but your ass is divine!”
    “It kinda is, yeah!”
    Donna grabbed the liberated cheeks and bounced them a bit, which was actually quite difficult given their enormous weight, then slapped them.
    The creaking got louder.
    Erin asked nervously:
    “Shouldn’t you be careful with them? I mean, they look all new …”
    “They are! I had the implants put in right after we talked, and started filling them right away. I wanna get huge!”
    The blonde’s mind was conflicted. This was a dream come true, but after the whole Monique affair …
    “Maybe take it slowly?”
    “Bah. Never! Do or die, I say!”
    With these words, she walked backwards and bumped into Erin, knocking the young woman to the ground. The girl landed on her back, and then she saw the eclipse of the twin moons descend on her.
    Moments later, Erin was caught with her face under Donna’s giant butt, licking her mother-in-law’s pussy for her dear life, her head pressed into the carpet. The older woman was howling with lust, her ass was creaking hard and then, Erin sensed that Donna pulled down her pants and suddenly, she felt the black woman’s tongue on her own lips.
    “Ffff …”
    She managed to breathe enough to exclaim happily down there, but then, Donna came, soaking Erin’s face in her juices just as her tongue hit her sweet spot.
    After they recovered, Donna rested on the sofa, her giant ass spread out over the pillows. She was glowing and Erin was still shaking from the intensity of it all. The look the blonde was giving her made it clear to Donna that she found the perfect woman … All she needed to do now was prove her devotion to her.
    She would make sure Erin adored her …


    Inspired by the classic movie “Death Becomes Her”, here’s a story of magic transformation and strange decisions of older women …

    Muscle Becomes Her
    Three little old ladies in a fancy retirement home spend their days swooning at the young and beautiful masseurs and personal trainers. If only there was a way to be young, strong and beautiful again …
    This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, age regression and breast expansion. All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Get it here:

    Read the preview:
    “Here he comes!” Eunice was all excited. She giggled like a schoolgirl, unable to contain herself. She barely managed to stop herself from clapping her hands and hyperventilating.
    Frida and Giselle exchanged glances. There was a little bit of mockery in their expressions, but it was good-natured. After all, they had spent the last fifteen years with their friend and they knew about her ability to get excited about things. Or people, for that matter. The new physical therapist was definitely worth the excitement. He was tall, strong and had a slim waist, with short black hair and that fancy line of white hair above the ears. The man looked like an action hero, and even the retirement home’s, no, pensioners’ palace’s smock could ruin his style.
    Giselle gave Eunice a little frown and whispered:
    “Eunice, dear, please …”
    The tiny woman in her chocolat training suit blushed and replied quietly:
    “Am I doing it again?”
    “You are.”
    “Oooh … Sorry, Giselle. I just … I can’t contain myself … He’s just so handsome!”
    “Yes, he is, but you still have to keep your dignity. You can’t run around shrieking like a teenager.”
    Frida nodded gravely.
    “Please, Eunice, try to act your age.”
    “You keep saying this, but honestly, why should I? Being old is not nice. It’s achy and slow and the only thing I can do now, is look and dream.”
    Frida smiled. Eunice was always so outspoken, but she was right. She unzipped her purple training jacket and whispered:
    “You’re right, of course. It’s just … You can’t even hope to get his attention. Please don’t make any stupid moves.”
    “I never …”
    The purple-clad old lady glared mockingly at her.
    “Remember Santiago?”
    “Okay, Santiago was a bit much … But he started it. He didn’t have to mention that he was single!”
    Giselle shushed them:
    “Quiet, everybody.” She stood up straight in her grey tracksuit. She was the tallest and most serious of the trio. “You both know Zayn has a girlfriend. Do not embarrass him. Also, we should get ready. It’s going to start!”
    The two others nodded and fell in. As they stretched, they did try to sneak in adoring little looks at the wonderful young man. As the exercises started, Eunice did call on him a few times to “get help” and she did blush and smile at Frida when he placed his hand on her lower back to direct her. The woman in the purple sweatsuit rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help agreeing. It was annoying being old. Why couldn’t they be young again? Or at least younger?

    As the training finished, Frida could see that Eunice was about to try some cutesy stunt, so she cut her off and said:
    “Zayn, thank you for the coaching. It was a pleasure.”
    “Thank you, Frida.”
    “And give my regards to your young lady …” She glared at Eunice, who sheepishly looked away.
    The hunk nodded:
    “I will. Though I must say, sometimes, I would love someone who is … a little more mature. She is great, but … maybe I should look for someone closer to my age.”
    Frida set her hand on his forearm and winked:
    “I’m sure she is perfect for you.”
    Eunice looked a bit bothered, but Giselle suddenly seemed all thoughtful.

    Later, after dinner, the trio was just finishing their card game when Giselle said:
    “Eunice, I’m sure you are missing a card. Where did it go?”
    The other older lady mock-harrumphed:
    “How do you keep spotting it?”
    “I’m not spotting it. I just count the turns and you were done too early.”
    Frida rubbed her temples:
    “Eunice, are you seriously cheating at Uno?”
    The accusee grinned:
    She took another sip of chamomile tea and added:
    “I just want a bit of excitement! I love you both like sisters, but … I want to have a good-looking guy once in a while!”
    Frida jerked her head to the right:
    “You could try Harold.”
    “Harold is a bore, his hair is a toupee, and he thinks he is God’s gift to women. Nah.”
    “This is what’s on offer, Eunice.”
    “But if Zayn says he is into mature women …”
    “I don’t think he meant mature like us. More like a very good-looking forty-year-old.”
    “Yeah? Well, I wish I could try!”
    Frida groaned.
    Giselle listened to her friends’ banter and finally said:
    “There’s a thing. Malina, the librarian, she told me there’s a master beautician she heard of. A woman that can return one’s vigor and beauty and even more …”
    Frida made a dismissive gesture:
    “Bah. That’s just one of those injection women! They put some acids under your skin, and then, they say, tadaa, you’re young again.” She mocked the style of the beauticians. “Ah, Madame, you look gorgeous, ravishing … Could I speak to your mother, please? Bah.”
    “No, the stuff really works.”
    Eunice’s eyes lit up:
    “We should try it. Tonight!”
    Frida shook her head:
    “No. Please. No experiments. Please.”
    “If Giselle says it works, then it works.”
    Their leader hesitated:
    “I only have her word for it …”
    “You wouldn’t have mentioned it if you didn’t believe in it. We do it!” Eunice was convinced already. “I’m going to get us a taxi!”
    Frida tried to stop her, but Eunice was already fired up. She gave Giselle a pleading look, but the head of their little band nodded.
    “We will try. If it’s stupid, we go home immediately.”
    Frida wanted to protest, but then, she caved.
    “Alright. I’ll get my coat.”

    The taxi driver brought them to the address Giselle gave him and she told him to wait for their return. He shrugged and kept the meter running. Obviously, these old women were loaded. He wasn’t going to pass on that opportunity.
    The trio looked at the place. It was strange. They had lived around the city most of their lives, and they had never seen it. It was some kind of Gilded Age palace, with towers and pointed roofs, statues and columns. It exuded an aura of luxury and noblesse.
    Frida frowned:
    “Are you certain this is the right address, Giselle? It doesn’t look like a beauty parlor.”
    Their leader shook her head.
    “No, it doesn’t. I take that as a good sign.”
    Eunice had already walked over to the bell and rung it, much to Frida’s discomfort.
    Moments later, a butler appeared, wearing a tuxedo. The man looked positively handsome, having aged like fine wine. He observed them for a few seconds, then asked:
    “Miladies, what brings you here?”
    Giselle wanted to explain, but Eunice blurted out:
    “We heard you make people beautiful! We want some of that!”
    The man returned an enigmatic smile and a courteous nod. Giselle cut in:
    “Malina, our home’s librarian, told us about this place.”
    “Ah. Very well, then. Do come in.”
    He opened the gates. As they walked through the large gardens, they heard soft, yet sensual music from the main building. They heard giggles in the bushes, and other, more intimate sounds. There was a fragrance of youth and energy to the whole scene. The moon was hanging big and round in the sky. They passed statues of men and women in rather explicit poses, then arrived at the house itself.
    A large marble entrance greeted them. The music was clearer here and they saw men and women in the halls, dancing, chatting, playing with each other and obviously engaged in intense courtship. They were all young and beautiful, no, they were gorgeous, erotic even.
    The trio felt uncomfortable. Weak, old, disgusting. The sheer energy of the place made them feel as if they were standing out like a sore thumb. The outfits of these people alone were enough to single them out.
    Eunice had her cutest blouse on, the same rich maroon tone as her tracksuit. Frida had preferred her more serious purple shirt on, while Giselle had picked a rather elegant light grey dress with a more dramatic collar.
    The people here were wearing gowns and suits, or strange outfits that seemed way too skimpy or tight. Even Giselle’s clothes looked dumpy in this place.
    The butler kept his eyes front, as if he were completely used to this sight.

    Then they emerged into a massive atrium. A large marble pool decorated with mosaics and gold dominated the room, with sleek columns supporting the roof ring. On a dais, there was a chaise longue made of some blood-red wood, upholstered in satin, and on it, a tall, slim woman was reclining.
    As the butler led them inside, she stirred and got up. It was impossible for them to determine her ethnicity. She had soft, glowing skin, tanned but still somehow pale, short, elegant black hair and eyes that seemed to peer deep into their souls.
    The woman descended from the dais, the cream-colored sheer silk dress flowing around her lithe body. They were shocked by the amount of jewelry the woman was wearing, and it looked somewhat ancient, though so stylish that it could also be height of fashion.
    “Welcome, my friends.”
    Her voice was deep and pleasant, seductive even. The three old women were speechless for a moment, then Giselle managed to speak:
    “Thank you for having us. We, uh, learned of this place from Malina, and …”
    “Malina. Yes. She recommended it? Very well. So, what brought you here?”
    Eunice was silent for once, while Frida wanted to retreat. Giselle pressed on:
    “She said that you could return our beauty and vigor …”
    “I do.”
    “And … we would … want to try that.”
    “Of course you do.”
    The tall woman gauged her visitors, seeing their desperation. Then a gentle smile played on her perfect lips. She walked over to a kind of shrine, a carved piece of what seemed like ivory, and opened a small door. Then she took out a crystal vase filled with an ominous pink liquid.
    Suddenly, Frida felt very uncomfortable, while Eunice shivered, both with excitement and fear.
    The woman explained:
    “This elixir was created at the dawn of time by the founders of our … association. I have been put in charge of administering it and to choose those that deserve it. It will halt your ageing, and it will even reverse it. It will make you vigorous and full of energy.”
    Her words filled the large hall, the trio’s silence deafening.
    Then Eunice asked:
    “For real?”
    The woman nodded gently:
    “Indeed. It is very potent. I must warn you, though. I can give it to you, for a price, of course, but you will have to stay together for a long, long time.” She paused. “If you wish, you can have it.”
    Frida glared:
    “What price are we talking about?”
    The woman raised an eyebrow and named a sum. It was eye-watering, and would put a deep dent in their finances, but it was possible.
    They exchanged glances and Giselle nodded. In unison, they pulled out their checkbooks.
    The butler collected the checks on a silver platter, then disappeared. Frida raised an eyebrow.
    “Aren’t you going to see whether they are covered?”
    The woman laughed:
    “My dear Frida, we must learn to trust each other. You are welcome at my home, so I know that you are true to your word.”
    “Ah …”
    Somehow Frida started to wonder whether this woman actually needed their money, and whether this was all some kind of big trick. She took a step back.
    The butler returned with three champagne flutes on his platter. He set it down on a small table next to the woman’s place. She thanked him with an imperceptible nod and poured the pink liquid into the glasses.
    The woman smiled and distributed the glasses. The glow of the liquid shone surprisingly bright in the twilight of the atrium. Once everybody was ready, Eunice and Frida hesitated. Giselle saw this and raised her glass:
    “To beauty!”
    Eunice chuckled and said:
    “To youth!”
    Frida caught their smiles and whispered:
    “To life!”
    They drank. The pink glow was visible down their throats, then seemed to spread over their chests, then all through their bodies. Then it faded, leaving a sweet, refreshing taste in their mouths.
    Then nothing happened.
    Frida sighed:
    “Ha. So much for that …”
    But then, she felt something within her. She looked at one of the crystal mirrors and gasped. She saw the years disappear from her face. In no time, she went from senior citizen to middle-aged, and just feeling the lines on her face fade and her skin tighten made her all tingly.
    “Oh …”
    Her teeth rearranged themselves, her hair grew full, her eyebrows regained their color, her lashes became more dense and longer, her lips recovered their fullness, age spots disappeared, her jowls tightened and soon, her chin was defined and clear again. Her vision turned sharp and she had to pull off her glasses.
    She looked over to the others and they were going through the same transformation. She had seen pictures of Giselle as a younger woman, of course, and she had been quite the beauty. Now, she was fast returning to this state. Even more, she looked youthful and strong now. Eunice’s cute aged face turned positively pixyish, charm and humor shining from her glowing eyes.
    Then Frida noticed that the transformation was spreading further. She looked at the clothes turn flabby around her body. She stared at the reflection and realized that her backbone was stretching back to its original length and stability, while her belly tightened and thinned. Then she felt her breasts swell up in their bra.
    She looked around ecstatically, trying to get a good look. Eventually, she gave up and just stared down her shirt and watched as her breasts rose and firmed up. She quickly pulled off the shirt. She had to see this!
    “Oh, wow … Look at this!”
    Frida could see her breasts fill up until they were perky and full, more fitting for a young woman in full bloom. She barely managed not to giggle, and then she did anyway as her butt caught up, tightening and turning from flat and sagging to bulbous and lovely.
    She turned to the others and found it curious. Somehow, the two others were now golden California blondes. Then she saw her own locks, and realized they now shared the same hair color. Strange. She had been a blonde, but she knew for a fact that Eunice had been chestnut-haired, while Giselle had sported jet-black locks.
    Still, the others didn’t seem to mind. Instead, they were quickly taking off their clothes, marveling at their rejuvenated bodies and running their hands over their curves.
    Eunice put it simple:
    “I’ve turned into a bombshell, and I love it! Thank you, ma’am!”
    Their hostess just smiled enigmatically. Suddenly, Eunice was feeling uncomfortable. She still had her cheerful way, but the woman’s smile gave her a stop. Then she noticed it. She looked at Frida:
    “What’s with the tan?”
    “What tan?” Frida looked at her hands. To her surprise, her skin started turning darker swiftly. In no time, she went from her pale, indoor tone to a deep, intense tan. She gasped:
    “What’s going on?” She turned to their hostess. “What’s happening? Why are you doing this?”
    The woman just smiled, a hint of mockery in her expression.
    While they still tried to figure out what was happening, their breasts started swelling again. This time, they were not going for an elegant, youthful bust, however. Instead, their bosoms expanded quickly and brutally. For Frida, this was a sudden nightmare. She watched in horror as her formerly beautiful creamy breasts, all supple and full, seemed to explode into absurd, stripperific monsters!


    For those who enjoy super-muscular older women with mighty clits, this is right up your alley!

    The Perfect Wife
    Susan just came home from a bodybuilding competition, which she obviously won, and now, she wants to celebrate! Happily, her friends at the diner are happy to join in, and her husband Jeff is also going to have a splendid time …
    This work of erotic fiction contains female muscle, a large clit and feats of strength. All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Get it here:

    It’s in the style of Junkyard Queen (, Provocation ( or The Laborers (

    Here’s the preview:

    The little bell on the door rang as Jeff held it open for his wife. The regulars looked up, while Marsha smiled at them behind the bar.

    “The usual, you lovebirds?”

    Susan nodded. She was wearing a rather daring red dress with white polka dots, and it clung to her body like saran wrap. As she walked up to their seats, the poor thing creaked and groaned. Jeff walked behind her, admiring her perfectly sculpted muscular X of an ass. He was an old geezer now, but with Susan, he could still get a raging hard-on, just from watching. Ever since she started training, their sex life had improved tremendously. Not only that, actually. Everything was better now. He did his best to maintain his own fitness, and that had helped too.

    They sat down in their booth, with Jeff pulling the table to himself a bit to make room for Susan’s bulky body. It had taken almost ten years of hard workouts, but she had managed to sculpt herself into their common ideal. After her menopause, the doctor had suggested she started working out to prevent osteoporosis and prescribed some hormones. To both their surprises, Susan had taken to pumping iron like a fish to water. Her trainer had made her lift from the first day, and she could admire her progress soon enough.

    After this, they had gone all in, and Susan had started going to the gym six days a week and gorging herself on protein, devouring five to seven meals a day. The effects could be seen soon enough. She had changed her previously flabby, soft body to a sculpted physique. She looked good, like a woman in her fifties, and the body of an athlete.

    It had turned out not to be enough for them.

    Jeff pushed her on, and Susan enjoyed being pushed. Her workouts intensified further, and, well, the results couldn’t be denied anymore.

    The bench creaked as she sat down, her 208-pound body of pure, ripped beef concentrated into her hard, tight glutes. She was just five feet tall, and her muscles were mind-boggling! Susan had lost her breasts years ago, just to make sure they wouldn’t cause any trouble down the line, but she had replaced them with a pair of gargantuan pecs that were ripped beyond belief. Each slab of hard muscle was packed tight under her tanned skin, spreading out to a pair of equally massive shoulders. Each one was a ball of muscle, with deep lines carved into them. Her frame had grown incredibly wide, and she now took up the whole side of the booth by herself. She eased herself in, spreading her gargantuan legs and making sure she didn’t bump into the table from below. Stretching her bull-neck, she smiled at Jeff. She extended one over-muscled arm and set her gnarled, strong hand on the table. He took it in his hand and sighed:

    “I love you, you know?”

    “I know.” Her voice was pretty harsh and rough. Still, there was this warmth to it that made sure he knew she did too.

    Marsha walked up to them and said:

    “It’s great to have you back! How have you been?”

    Susan smiled sweetly, the hundreds of little lines on her face shifting.

    “Perfect! I won the competition.”

    Jeff added:

    “We probably should have brought the trophy. You could have put it up there, next to the others!”

    They glanced over to the various sports trophies and pennants that had accumulated over time. Marsha chuckled:

    “That would definitely have been a nice conversation piece! And how did it go?”

    “It was fun! The boys were a little intimidated by me, but I understand and I didn’t mind.”

    “Intimidated? Why? I mean, sure, you’re buff, but they probably were too, weren’t they?”

    “Yeah, but I was a head shorter than them, and I outweighed a bunch of them!”

    “Wow …”

    Susan chuckled:

    “Jeff, didn’t you film it?”

    “Sure did. It was a bit difficult to figure out with the phone, and I only caught the second round because I filmed the inside of my hand on the first, but … Want to watch it?”

    “Sure! I want to see those boys lose to a little old lady!”

    The musclewoman laughed:

    “Watch who you’re calling a lady!”

    Jeff fumbled with the phone while the regulars came over to see. Then they all craned their necks to see. The old man managed to turn it on, and then they saw the line-up of musclemen. They were all really impressive, but in the middle of them, there was Susan, who was definitely the odd one out. She was by far the shortest, but she was also the broadest. The men seemed downright nervous next to her. Susan was ripped within an inch of her life, her muscles massive and pumped. Her skin was painted a deep chestnut and she was wearing only some bikini bottoms.

    As they watched her do the poses, Marsha commented:

    “You’re not even wearing a top? Wow, Susan, isn’t that indecent?”

    One of the boys next to her chuckled:

    “I don’t think Susan cares much about decent!”

    “Stop it, Gary, you’re not supposed to ogle another man’s wife’s breasts.”

    “I see no breasts there, right, Susan?”

    Susan laughed and flexed her pecs. Each one of them swelled into an insane mass of beef, reaching almost up to her chin. The vascularity was insane. They could see every little vein pump.

    Marsha stared at her as the video continued playing in the background.

    “Holy … Susan … Those are … wow …”

    “Thank you! I never had big boobs or anything, not like you, but I love how big they got …”

    Marsha blushed. She was quite proud of her own bust, which was rather Dolly Parton-like. She occasionally had her breasts, well, buffed up, but next to Susan, she was starting to look like small fry.

    Gary grinned:

    “We could try the glasses trick!”

    Marsha rolled her eyes.

    “Not the glasses trick …”

    A few years ago, when Marsha had gotten her new implants around New Year, they had all celebrated and gotten pretty drunk and Marsha had balanced a glass on one of her boobs. It had held up there for a moment and the gang had cheered. It had all been in good fun.

    Susan grinned:

    “I’m up for it. Do you have a bottle of some sparkly stuff? After all, we gotta celebrate!”

    Marsha was a tad skeptical, but the boys started chanting “Glasses, glasses, glasses!” and eventually, she sighed and agreed. She went behind the bar and got the single bottle of champagne out she had there for special occasions, and two matching glasses. She handed it to Jeff:

    “Do the honors, please.”

    He busied himself with it while Susan got up. She pulled her dress back in the correct position, and it was still very, very short. A “pop!” announced that the bottle was open. Marsha approached her with the glasses:

    “Just be careful and don’t drop them. Those are the good ones.”

    “No worries.”

    Susan shook her hands, wiggled her bum and did some mock breathing exercises. Then she rubbed her hands and went “Aaah …”, then “Do-Re-Mi …”.

    The boys laughed. Then she flexed her pecs. The effect was astonishing. The dress groaned and they saw those muscles expand and then tighten into a perfect shelf of super-defined muscles. There were sharp intakes of breath all around. The sheer mass of those plates of hard, cut meat was a bit terrifying.



    “Oh my God …”

    Carefully, Marsha set the glasses on the old woman’s pecs. She stared at the absurdly thick masses of flesh. They almost looked mutated in their absurdity. Susan grinned and tightened them even further, little walls of muscle rising up around the glasses’ bases. Marsha made a beckoning gesture at Jeff and he slowly and carefully poured the champagne. Susan grinned. Then her husband took a step back and Marsha, still nervous, removed her hands.

    The glasses stood perfectly straight on the woman’s shelf-like pecs. Below, the dress was pretty much overstrained, its cleavage completely filled up with mutant muscle-flesh.

    The champion laughed:

    “Okay, I think Marsha and I are even! You’ll have to go bigger eventually if you want to have a chance against me!”

    Marsha gave her a “it’s not a competition”-look, and Jeff reached over, took one of the glasses and waited for Susan to pick hers. Then they clinked them together and toasted at the other guests:

    “To our champion?”

    The other regulars raised whatever drinks they had and chimed in:

    “To our champion!”

    They sat back down and finally ordered the food. Susan couldn’t help noticing Marsha’s looks. Somehow, the other woman liked what she saw …

    The same could be said for Jeff. She sensed his hand brush against her monstrously ripped thigh. Her clit twitched within her. That was another little thing they had taken care off after the competition. There was a specialist doctor in that city and he had treated it with his super-complicated technique. Her already large clit from almost a decade of steroid use had grown even further. Now it was a good foot long, red, thick and extremely sensitive. It was also flexible enough to be pushed into her own pussy, which she found amazingly stimulating.

    Now, though, Jeff was slowly inching closer to it. Susan gave him a mildly disapproving look, but he knew when she was just joking. Besides, his touch excited her. She sighed:

    “Jeffie …”

    “Yes, Suzy?”

    “You shouldn’t …”

    “Oh, I think I should …”

    He touched her appendage and reached around it.

    “Jeffie … They’re going to notice.”

    “Do you really care?”

    “Mmmh … Good point … Oooh …”

    She did her best to hide her moan as he set his hand around it and gently extricated it from its pink prison. She thought for a moment to stop him simply by flexing her pussy muscles, but it was just too exciting …

    It flopped out with a quiet “plop”. Then she sensed his fingers on it, rubbing it, caressing it, squeezing it. Her eyes opened a bit and she suppressed a groan.

    Marsha returned with their food, struggling to pile all of Susan’s dishes on the table. She smirked at them. She was pretty sure that Jeff’s foot was at work once again. He had been doing this since forever. Then she said:


    They thanked her, though Susan only managed a repressed grunt, and dug in. As they ate, Susan felt Jeff’s hand jerk her off, and it was getting really hard to concentrate. She did her best. It was as hard as her clit was getting …

    While she ate, she felt the tension increase more and more. She glared over to him, but there was something ironic about it. She said, as calmly as she could:

    “Hands on the table, Jeff …”

    “You think I’m doing something inappropriate?”

    “Maybe …”

    She sighed as he found an especially nice grip and gave it a good pull, letting his fingers dance all along her length. She frowned at him, but she enjoyed this way too much at the same time.

    “Mmmh … Jeff …”

    He grinned and kept on playing with her. Her appendage was getting pretty hard. Jeffrey too felt his own cock rise. Playing with Susan’s appendage made him hot. It was an acquired taste, but now that he had it, he would no longer miss it.

    She finished her plate, feeling rather hot and bothered already. She definitely needed something to take the edge off later on.

    Susan smirked and made a sign to Jeffrey. Her husband carefully returned her clit to her pussy, guiding the semi-hard rod between the folds of her vagina. She moved her butt a little and relaxed and contracted her interior muscles to make it stick, then said:

    “That was nice. Thank you, Marsha.”

    “Great to have you here …”

    Marsha came over to pick up the plates, when she suddenly said:

    “May I?”

    Susan looked at her:

    “May you what?”

    “Touch them?”

    “Only if I get to touch yours.”

    There was a moment of hesitation. The regulars stared. This day was getting better and better.

    “Okay, but be gentle.”

    Susan laughed:

    “I’m always gentle.”

    Then she felt Marsha’s hand slip into her dress and touch the hard plate of her pec. She let her try and find a good grip. The warmth of the woman’s hand was nice. She was so soft … Then Susan flexed her chest, and turned its almost soft shape into blocks of carved muscle. Marsha stared as she tried to make those packs move. No matter how much she strained, nothing could be done.

    Then she felt Susan’s hands on her own tits. The woman’s strength was rather overwhelming. She sighed and continued her exploration of those monster pecs. She never imagined a human body could be this hard …

    The boys were speechless. This was too good to be true. Slowly, Susan pulled down her dress and revealed her uber-muscular bust. Then she stood up and guided Marsha along. The waitress was completely mesmerized.

    Then Gary broke the mood by asking:

    “Can I try too?”

    Marsha came back to and quickly rearranged her uniform. Then she retreated. Susan smirked at her and packed back up. She exchanged glances with Jeffrey and said:

    “If you boys manage to impress me, I just about might …”

    They were a bit confused by the offer. Gary asked:

    “What do you mean? How do we do this?”

    “You can try and give my pecs and abs a good punch. If that does anything to me, I just might reward you. No holding back.”

    They exchanged glances. The men were all pretty strong, or at least fit enough to do their jobs. No pro boxers, but still guys that could pack a punch.

    The biggest of them, Wally, asked:

    “You sure about that? You know about the time I got into trouble …”

    They all nodded. That had been pretty bad. Fred had it coming, but still, it was generally agreed that breaking his jaw like that had been a bit much.

    “Yeah, stop discussing. Less talk, more punch!”

    Marsha was still a bit dreamy, but she said:

    “How about you take that out to the backyard? I don’t want you to mess up my diner. Not like that.”

    There were nods of agreement. Susan said:

    “I’ll just get changed. I don’t want you to crumple my new dress.”

    “Sure, sure.”


    Here’s a story for the lovers of large, masculine women with wimpy husbands that outsize and overwhelm them completely. It’s nice and quite explicit, and I hope you’ll all enjoy it!

    It’s a Hard-Knock Wife
    William and Louise have been struggling to have a kid for quite a while now, but it’s to no avail. In the end, the very strong and assertive wife decides to take matters in her own hands. If she has to be the man in this marriage in order to find happiness, she’ll gladly do it!
    This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, futa and gender-blending. All characters are at least 18 years old.

    Read their exploits here:

    The preview:

    People say opposites attract, and that was certainly the case with William and Louise. Then again, people also say that men don’t want women that are taller than them, and, well, that was not a problem for William. Also, having a short guy as a husband didn’t seem to be a problem for Louise either. Some women might object to towering over their guy, especially when wearing heels, and where thus in the endless pursuit of the mysterious 6’4”-man with the steady, high-income job, who loved kids and pets and was good at fixing things that got broken at home and not sleeping around.

    For Louise, this was never a problem.

    William and her were high school sweethearts, and even if the other girls found her taste in men a bit weird, they were both very happy with each other. Of course, some of her colleagues suggested that she could find a better guy. After all, Louise was incredible: She was always tall and rather strong, and she had enjoyed sports ever since she was little. As a result, she excelled in everything she tried, track and field (with a specialty in shot put and discus throwing), softball, basketball, soccer, and she even tried out for the football team once, before deciding that it lacked the intensity of soccer. Yeah. After this, she had to endure a bit of, well, criticism from the other students, but since she had schooled her techniques on the debate team, she managed to get them to not only calm down, but also grudgingly agree.

    Also, wrestling the quarterback into submission at a party might have helped.

    Overall, she was a larger-than-life person, and the school knew very well that having her meant being able to build a strong team around her talent. That was another thing: In a way, Louise was completely aware of her gifts, and while she never would have shown it in public, she was able to be humble and integrate into a team. Soon, the trophies were filling up her room and her parents were incredibly proud of her. As the valedictorian and national champion in several track and field events, it was obvious that she would have her choice of colleges.

    Everything she was, William wasn’t. He was always on the short and scrawny side, born early to an overwhelmed teenage mother and always struggling to reach the level required to progress in school. What he didn’t have as talent, though, he made up in determination. Understanding that athleticism was expected, but completely devoid of any skills, he went for cross-country running, and did well enough. His light, five-foot-tall body could easily maintain long runs, and he was difficult to bore. Just running for hours was perfect for him.

    They met during an athletics training camp, and when the site’s lunch lady fell ill, William took over without even asking. In no time, he put all the housekeeping skills he had acquired at home to good use and ran the place for the whole two weeks on his own, cooking, cleaning, fixing things and making sure everybody felt comfortable. He must have fallen for Louise around that time. While the other students treated him, not exactly like shit, but still rather dismissively, she understood what his hard work brought to the whole team, and she appreciated his initiative.

    For William, this was a godsend, and Louise’s food got fancier every day, while her bed was impeccably made by invisible hands. At some point, one of the other students complained to William why she got her food presented as if by some internet celebrity chef while the others got the normal treatment. William sighed and tried to say something, but then Louise walked by, and his heart beat up to his neck and he couldn’t say a thing.

    At some point during the camp, Louise understood what he was trying to say, and took the initiative. They went on long walks into nature, there would be a lot of sighing and blushing, and by the time they sat in the bus home, they were a couple.

    Somehow, their relationship triggered the rest of the school to switch from “Yay, Louise is invincible!” to “Louise is actually interested in men? Oh God, we have to be careful!”. Despite picking the least manly dude in the whole school, she sent the other girls into a frenzy. Sure, Louise was the first one to admit that her face was plain, even a bit on the ugly side, but now, the girls went all “She looks like a man!”.

    It did annoy her. Quite a few times, she would rant about their meanness to William, who would listen attentively and agree. Those girls were jerks and he loved her just the way she was.

    She was happy to have him at her side, and she stood her ground, getting through high school with a resounding success and shaming all those who had tried to put her down.

    William followed her to the college she picked, finding a nice, relaxed community college in the same town. They moved together pretty much immediately, and Louise decided that it was for the best if they got married. There was no big ceremony, just a simple little get together, and she launched herself into her studies with her usual intensity. William supported her, having more than enough free time since the college didn’t ask for much.

    When Louise called him at two in the morning from the library because she had finally gotten hungry because of hours of studying, he would get up, busy himself in the kitchen and bring her a late dinner/early breakfast box to her spot. Invariably, it would be nice to look at and taste perfect. She would thank him and sometimes, he would ask what she was working on.

    Her explanations were maybe a little too abstract for him, but he just loved to listen to her. It just felt right.

    It was no wonder that Louise graduated early, immediately adding a Ph.D. in her chosen field of biochemical engineering, with a side-order of law and philosophy. For her, the days seemed to have forty-eight hours. She even managed to keep up her athletic career, maintaining a strong, muscular physique all through her studies. She did stop competing at a certain point, though. She decided that she preferred not to risk injury, and just exercised for her health and enjoyment.

    William instead dropped his training routine the moment he could. He did go on runs once or twice a week, but rarely more than half an hour at a time. Louise wasn’t too happy about this, but since pushing him on that point didn’t work, she decided that it was easier to focus on other things. Also, she did find him cute, all tiny and slim like that.

    Overall, their marriage was harmonious, and once she had finished her studies, Louise founded a very successful biotech company with her professor. After two meagre years during the start-up, the whole thing started earning a crazy amount of money, and William was happy to be the stay-at-home husband. He did do some charity work on his free time, cooking at the local soup kitchen and helping out in church, but overall, he was mostly occupied with making Louise’s life easier.

    In a way, they had everything they ever could have wanted, but of course, problems always find their way into happy couples’ lives.

    Despite William’s difficult upbringing, he did want kids, and for Louise, this was just as obvious. The problem was that despite their best attempts, it didn’t happen. After half a year of trying, they went to see a specialist.

    The doctor was very interested in their case and plenty of samples were taken. Then, at last, came the consultation. Louise and William came in. She was wearing a neck holder top that showed off her broad, strong shoulders and a pencil skirt that did nothing to hide her hard, powerful thighs, her heels pushing her up to 6’3”. She had just refreshed her blond dye job, and looked like a business Valkyrie, while William, wearing his polo shirt, khakis and loafers, looked more like a teenager next to her. He had once tried to grow a beard, but had given up after three months of waiting had only yielded three curly hairs sprouting from his upper lip. His clear skin and shiny, admiring eyes really made him look younger than his twenty-five years.

    The doctor greeted them, then they all sat down and the verdict came:

    “Alright. Mrs. Watson, Mr. Watson-Kincaid, I have received all the reports, and there are several factors that make it difficult, if not impossible to conceive.”

    The room was deadly silent for a moment.

    “The thing is, Mr. Watson-Kincaid, you have a very low testosterone level, which results in a critically low sperm count. Like this, even in vitro fertilization is going to be very, very difficult. We’re looking at at least four attempts, and I doubt that any of them will succeed. Also, even if you continue with your current attempts, which may eventually prove successful, there’s the issue of your … micro-penis.”

    William blushed. The doctor continued:

    “It’s not unheard of, and I assume that your sex life is enjoyable, but statistically, your penis is … very small.” She was a bit uncomfortable with saying it like this, but it was true. William leaned closer to Louise. “What I am saying is that you probably aren’t even able to successfully penetrate Mrs. Watson.” Louise put her big, strong arm around William’s shoulder. “Also, Mrs. Watson, the amount of training you must have put in your vaginal muscles is impressive, but it also precludes fertilization further.” She sighed. “Finally, your estrogen and progesterone levels are on the low end of the spectrum. All in all, I would say that you two have hit the worst case for a pregnancy to actually happen. I do believe that it would be possible to force the issue, but it would not only be very expensive with a low chance of success, but also potentially dangerous. In your specific case, I would consider adopting or resort to a sperm donor and a surrogate mother.”

    Louise sat there, stony-faced, while William started sobbing, then turned around and cried against her shoulder. She held him tight and did her best to calm him.

    “Don’t worry, love, we will figure something out. I will find a solution. You know I always do. I love you, and we’re going to fix this together. It will be fine.”

    “You think so?”, he asked between sobs.

    “I am certain.”

    The doctor was embarrassed by the reaction. As William calmed down to a sniffle and handed Louise a handkerchief to wipe his tears from her shoulder, the doctor asked:

    “Should I give you some folders on your options for further treatment or for finding a surrogate?”

    Louise shook her head and stood up.

    “No. I think we will figure this out on our own. Thank you, though, for being so clear and straightforward with us. It helps to have a reason for the trouble.”

    William blew his nose.

    “Yes. Thank you, and sorry for the outburst.”

    “Oh, it’s only understandable. Good luck, and hopefully you will find a way to your happiness.”

    “We will, doctor.” Louise held the door for William. “Thank you, and good bye.”

    “Yes, goodbye.”

    The doctor watched them go. She was impressed by those two, but she really hoped they wouldn’t end up in the hands of some charlatan …

    That night, after they both showered, William got ready for bed, climbing on their mattress. He had already changed into his boxers and sighed sadly. The doctor’s explanation had been tough on them. While Louise had just kept stony-faced on their way home, he was overwhelmed by self-pity. He had managed to calm down and recover mostly, but it was still bad.

    Just then, Louise came in, wearing her deep crimson robe. The silk was clinging to her massive curves and he shivered as his tiny cock stirred. God, he loved it when she put that thing on. The silky softness, the tension, the flow of the fabric over her mighty muscles … He licked his lips nervously. She walked up to the bed, then undid the belt of her robe, revealing her perfect muscles and her large breasts. She was wearing a black and red lingerie set that showcased her wonderful body perfectly. She gave him a fiery look and said:

    “I know the news was bad, but … I believe we should try it once more.”

    He nodded, his throat dry. His cock was hard now, the whole three-quarters of an inch of it.

    “Wow … you are as amazing as always.”

    “I know. And I’m glad your cock gets hard so quick. It might not be much, but it’s got a lot of enthusiasm!”

    He shivered. Her words stung, but … in a good way? He made a sign for her to come closer.

    “Yeah … I sure got plenty of that …”

    She climbed on the bed, crawling towards him, her broad shoulders and tough neck making him shiver with delight. She ran her finger along his tiny balls and then held the sack by the tips of three fingers. He certainly was the smallest imaginable. Only a little less, and he would basically have no genitals at all … His cock was hard, though.

    “It’s almost smaller than the tip of my index … I understand why this is so hard …”

    He blushed.

    “I did please you every time, though, didn’t I?”

    “Yes, but not with that little cock.”

    He shivered, but her words somehow turned him on. Her depreciative looks had always caused him to get horny, but now that it was official, listening to her talk about it … That was even better. He sighed:

    “It’s not that little …”

    “Oh yes, it is.” She gave him a wicked smile. Louise too had realized that her words had made his tiny cock jump and now, she decided to go all in. “It’s ridiculously small. I never said anything because I didn’t want to hurt you, but … I think you might be a mutant.”

    “A mutant?”

    “Yes. Your special power is you have the tiniest dick in the world!”

    She smirked and William saw his dick jump. Wow. This was tough. He put his hands on her arms and caressed them, enjoying the touch of her big, hard muscles. Her smirk softened. She obviously enjoyed his touch too.

    It was strange. Somehow, the revelation that they were stuck had freed them. She sat on him and started gyrating her hips, rubbing the silk of her panties against his cock. The poor thing was almost pointy now, and yet, she could barely feel it through the fabric.

    William sighed happily and continued caressing her, touching her, exploring her massive muscles. She was a goddess to him. She was so far beyond him, all her could do was be thankful that she had chosen him …

    She saw his expression and felt the heat rise within her. The little man was so cute, just watching him squirm and twitch under her made her horny. It was a joy to watch him.

    Eagerly, she whispered:

    “Help me out of these panties. Now!”

    He complied instantly, gliding below her and doing his best to work them off her broad, strong hips. She gasped as he freed her crotch and instantly licked her.

    “Oooh … Nice … Just be careful not to be too quick, otherwise I might …”

    She bit her lips. This was turning her on incredibly. Somehow, having her husband serve her like that while she stayed above him, easily holding the position, made her feel that she was so much more powerful. In no time, she was dripping wet. William was feeling her juices run into his mouth.

    Suddenly, Louise couldn’t stop herself anymore. She pushed herself down on him, getting his cock between her pussy lips and riding him hard. She humped him now, hoping her weight and power would be enough to actually allow him to penetrate her.

    William was completely overwhelmed by this. He squeaked a “Fuck me harder, stud!” out of nowhere. The expression made her cum, but also broke her stride. She felt him blow his load just as she felt herself orgasm too.

    “Aaah …”

    She rolled on her back, taking him with her.

    The poor little guy landed on her chest, breathing heavily. Louise held him tight, her strong arms wrapped around him. William felt her squeeze the air out of him, but at the same time, he felt safe and protected. It was a strange sensation. She kept him like this and waited for them both to calm down. Then, as the room fell into darkness, she whispered:

    “Did you really mean that?”

    He looked at her lovingly.

    “Mean what?”

    “The … stud … thing?”

    “Uh …”

    He was embarrassed. Did he really say that out loud? He was on the verge of panicking. She sensed that he was shivering in her arms.

    “Don’t worry. I just wanted to check if I heard that right.”

    “You wouldn’t be angry if I did say that?”

    She smiled at him, her teeth shining in the darkness.

    “Why would I? You’re only honest, and you’re saying it as it is. What more can I hope for from my partner?”

    She felt the tension in his body lower a bit.

    “Well … I guess I did …”

    Louise paused for a moment. She could feel that he was tensing up again, but she had to think about this. It was a thing, so much was clear. Whether she wanted it or not, she wore the pants around the house. William was the perfect house-husband, working hard to please her and to keep everything in order. No Fifties-man could wish for a better wife then she could. And now, the proof that she was manlier than him in every other way too was there. Scientifically proven, doctor’s orders.

    And he loved it.

    He really liked it when she was in charge. He wasn’t jealous, he didn’t feel belittle, or if he did, it seemed to turn him on …

    She would have to check this. Make sure it was real. If it was, then … it would change everything! She had to be sure before thinking further down that road …

    She rolled him off her, keeping him close. He came to rest at her side, his warm little body lying next to her.

    She stretched a strong arm and turned on the light on the nightstand. His tiny cock had retreated behind its foreskin again, looking entirely like a pea in a pod. Then she looked at her hard belly and spread her lips. No wonder he hadn’t managed to impregnate her. The tiny droplet of cum that was caught at the entrance of her pussy was ridiculous.

    She scooped it up with the tip of her finger, then looked at the mess she had made. Her juices had completely soaked his pubic hair and he was sticky with it.

    She held it up to him and said:

    “I don’t know about you, but your amount of cum is so absurdly tiny compared to mine, no wonder you didn’t manage to knock me up …”

    She watched his reaction attentively, but there was zero subtlety to it. His cock twitched, then grew erect, the foreskin slipping back instantly.

    Louise nodded to herself. Then she said:

    “Say ah!”


    She put the cum-droplet on his tongue.

    “There you are. Lick my fingers, William …”

    He did, carefully licking them clean, sucking on them happily. She kissed him.

    “Okay … I think I … I might have an idea, but it’s probably ridiculous.”

    The young man shrugged, still enamored with her fingers.

    “I guess you’re not going to knock me up or anybody else, really.”


    He seemed crestfallen, but also somewhat turned on. It was strange to watch these two sensations flicker over his face.

    “Maybe … Hey, dear, I don’t know if that is even possible, but … what if I did it?”

    “You? But how?”

    “I don’t know. It’s stupid. But … Imagine me fathering our kid …”

    The whole idea seemed ridiculous, but somehow, William was starting to feel really ecstatic about it.

    “It’s a fantasy, but … I guess you would be an amazing father!”

    She didn’t know what to say for a moment, then she asked:

    “You think so?”

    “Kinda? You’re big, strong, confident, intelligent … You’re everything a boy could hope for!”

    “And you are all tender and caring … It’s a stupid idea, but … if it could work …”

    “Yeah …”

    “I’ll see what I can do. Maybe there is a way.”

    “I would love that. I would love you to be stronger and manlier for me. For us.”

    She grinned. This was the first time someone had suggested something like that … Up until now, everybody had always told her to downsize, to dress more girly, to not be as butch … And now, here was her husband, suggesting that she should be more like a stud?

    It was so strange, but the idea pleased her tremendously.


    Louise hoisted the bar up again. This was her fifteenth rep at her previous max. She had spent the last months really pushing herself and forcing her body to get bigger and stronger. Up until now, she had felt a certain shame about it, or at least sensed that it was seen as vaguely inappropriate to push for a bigger physique, but now that she had come clean about it with William, she decided that such restraint was no longer warranted.

    Instead, she had started to really force her workouts. Together with her very enthusiastic husband, she had figured out a training schedule that would really allow her to put on some serious muscle. She was surprised by how much he supported her on this. In the beginning, she had thought he would half-ass it as he usually did with things, but here, he seemed to be laser-focused. He would spend hours on the internet actually researching useful information and collating it, and he seriously upped his cooking game.

    Now, he did his best to figure out recipes for protein-rich food that actually tasted like something nice, and Louise was loving it. Just thinking of their dinner made her salivate as she readied herself for the next set.

    She looked at her reflection. Her previously muscular build had further improved, and she was starting to look quite massive for a woman. Seriously, short of some internet bodybuilders, she never saw any female her size. And even those women’s physiques were beginning to look quite “possible” to her. She got in position and lifted the bar. Her neck muscles swelled satisfyingly. For Louise, this felt like the best decision ever. She sensed that she was finally coming into herself after years of denial.

    She grunted, pumping the barbell up and down in slow, controlled strokes. She couldn’t help checking out her biceps as it strained under her skin. Just imagining herself getting even bigger turned her on.

    William’s admiration for her was another interesting thing. Despite his “failure” as a husband and the humiliation the whole situation had put him through, the man just adored their changing dynamic. It was strange, though. In the evening, she would usually put in another more relaxed workout routine to show off and to come down after a day of work, and her husband would watch her, almost drooling.

    His tiny cock would stir in his briefs. She made him wear thongs now. He had stared at her when she suggested it, but she said he had to do all he could just to prove that he even had a dick! Just saying this had made his penis jump. It was still absurdly small, but it was also rigid. It made a rather flat tent of the thong’s fabric and she couldn’t help smiling at the effort.

    He was so cute and helpless!

    She would do all kinds of hard crunches, even going as far as to suspend herself from a pull-up bar upside down and hold him as she drew herself up.

    William would squee with happiness at this brutal show of force.

    Louise could really understand his fascination. Every week brough her closer to this ideal of manly studdiness. Was that even a word? She didn’t care. Instead, she gritted her teeth, the cables of her neck shooting out under her skin.


    She could see that the other gym-goers were being either fascinated or grossed out by the display. Even the few big male bodybuilders were a bit intimidated by her intensity. Good. She liked it that way.

    After she finished her sets, she put everything away and hit the showers. She would put in a few good hours at work, and then she’d head home.

    William was excited. It wasn’t long now. Louise had just called him to tell him that she was leaving the office. It had taken her two more hours than planned, but if she wanted that promotion, she had to put in the extra work.

    The first few times it had happened, he had had problems with the food and they had to order dinner, but now, he knew the situation, and he did a lot of slow cooking. She could basically come home any time, and there would be some tasty, healthy food ready for her.

    Now, he was ready. He had put on his nice clothes, had combed his hair and checked his looks in the mirror. The wine was just the right temperature and the place was spotless. He just waited attentively for her car to pull up on the driveway.

    As he was thinking about Louise’s beautiful, strong muscles and her hard, dominant ways, he was getting giddy with excitement. It was just too good to feel her buff body against his small, soft one. He loved to hear her gruff voice. She was usually friendly, but when she wasn’t, it somehow pleased him too.

    Just yesterday, she had noticed that he had failed to lay out the correct pantsuit for her meeting, and her reaction had been scathing. He could still hear her words in his mind:

    “Oh come on, you small-dicked wimp! Tell me again why I should wear a tan suit to a company event? Think! Think with that numb little brain of yours!”

    He had shrunk down at this reaction. William knew that this wasn’t just her talking, it was the supplements too. Lately, she had upped her use of steroids to improve her growth, and the stuff she was using was making her way more irritable. Still, hearing her insult him like that …

    It turned him on.

    Thinking about it now made him hard.

    He knew this was all pretty perverted, but what could he do? This was just the way he was.

    Outside, he heard a car stop. Eagerly, he opened the door and looked whether she was there. It was Louise!

    She got out of the car, putting her heels back on. This was another new thing. She no longer tried to dress down her height. Instead, she now preferred to push herself up to 6’4”, absolutely towering over the people around her. Driving her car, though, was easier in flats.

    She walked up to him, her strong body giving her a slight swagger. She was wearing a perfectly tailored navy-blue pant suit and a white blouse under it. She had also accessorized it with a tie. It looked fashionable on her, so people didn’t mind, but William knew why she had put it on. It made her feel more masculine, and to his delight, it had the same effect on him.

    She walked up to him and he stood on the porch on his tip-toes to kiss her. He really had to, otherwise the sixteen inches were hard to bridge.

    Louise kissed him, her tongue gently invading his mouth. After she released him, he gasped:

    “Good evening, dear. How was your day?”

    She groaned:

    “Nice, but long. Let’s get inside. I need to get this off!”

    He nodded eagerly and held the door for her. Then, she dropped on the sofa and he assisted her in taking off her shoes, massaging her nylon-clad feet for a bit. She moaned happily.

    “Oh William, your hands are marvelous!”

    “Thank you.”

    She eased the tie and rubbed the other foot against his crotch. He gasped as it brushed against his tiny, erect cock. He looked down, but she pushed her foot against his chin.

    “No, no. Go on, but look me in the eye.”

    “Of course, Louise.”

    He was on his knees, and he looked up towards her. She looked amazing in her suit. The tailor had suggested not putting in shoulder pads, but she had just shaken her head and made him do it anyway. It gave her just the blocky silhouette she wanted.

    “How about you help me out of these pants?”

    “Don’t you want dinner first?”

    She gave him a playful, yet dominant grin:

    “Did I stutter?”

    “No, of course not!”

    He quickly undid her fly and eased her pants off her thick legs. William carefully pulled down the tights. Then she said:

    “The panties too.”

    “Right away!”

    He folded them all neatly and set them on the side of the sofa, then he waited. She grinned:

    “Oh, William, you are so cute. You are my favorite little wimp!”

    “Thank you, Louise.”

    “Make yourself useful.”

    She spread her legs, her hairy crotch coming into view. She had lately stopped shaving her crotch and her legs, instead wearing opaque tights. He could smell the musk of her wet pussy.

    With a blush, he leaned forward and started licking her.

    She groaned happily as his tongue explored the hairy folds of her crotch, running around her lips, then into her vulva, and back up around her clitoris. He wasn’t entirely sure, but it did look bigger than lately. The smell and the taste were more intense too. He buried his nose between her legs, the wetness seeping in. He licked and gasped, and he sensed her thick, strong legs close around his head. Above him, her voice sounded:

    “Oh, William, your cock might be useless, but your tongue … fuuuck … you’re so good …”

    The praise, and the insult, energized him and he eagerly licked her harder, his tongue rubbing along her lips, then circling her clit, before diving back into her. In a moment, his face was soaking wet as her juices flowed all over him, his mouth full of her wet, spicy taste.

    She moaned, her voice sounding a bit deeper than before. God, he loved this so much …

    Louise squeezed his face between her legs now, her thighs swelling against his face. He was choking on her juices, some of them running from his nose. He was in heaven. She wiggled her hips, and he heard her growl:

    “Damn … I love your tongue … lick me harder … Make me cuuum …”

    William felt his little cock twitch hard in his pants. He felt that he was about to cum. It was just a matter of seconds now, but he wanted to do it at the same time as her. He grabbed her thighs, enjoying their thickness and strength, and shoved his face in even closer. His tongue disappeared in her pussy, while his nose rubbed against her clit. With a grunt, she started to tense her muscles.

    “Wwwwwah …”

    She abruptly came, flooding his already soaked face with her juices as he shot his tiny load into his underwear.

    “Yeeeesssss …”

    He was choking down there, her thighs holding him tight to her crotch, her juices drowning him, but William was just happy that she was enjoying it. Sure, he was on the verge of blacking out, but what a way to go …

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