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My 400th post and my birtday. Well, this vertainly call for something special. Anyway, on to what you're really reading this for. 😉

Secrets
A memoir

I would say that I have lived a very good life so far, not to mention a very special one. It has been a life full of love and happiness. It has also been one full of secrets, some of them mine, some of them belong to others. There are two specific secrets that have particularly enriched my life. I daresay that my life would have been so much grimmer if it wasn’t for the existence of these two hidden truths. Each of these two secrets belonged to two people, one being myself. The other belonged to a woman, but now I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Before we get to that fun little part, let me explain about the first secret. My secret.

Ever since I was a child, I have had a most unusual attraction to muscle. When I say “a child”, I mean back when I was in Kindergarten. I realize that is sounds strange for a child so young to have that kind of fascination. In fact, I don’t think that I have ever met anyone else who ever felt that way in my life.

The attraction, at first, had nothing to do with gender preference. It was a simple allurement to the muscles themselves. On the surface, what pulled my attention was the look. The symphonic flexing of perfectly sculpted, beautifully sleek muscles moving in a smooth rhythm, following some grand design. The magnificent straining of bulging, rippling sinew and flesh as it moves towards some greater purpose.

Truly, though, and I didn’t understand this until much later, there was more to that desire than simple fascination with the anatomical aspects of having large muscles. It was the feeling of power that it evoked; the sense of confidence that they supplied; a feeling of security that came with the strength. A person with so much strength at their disposal, I thought as the time, was above human and would have the power to do as they pleased. Of course, as so many of us learn throughout life, there is more to living than simply having some physical strength. You need to have at least some strength of mind to really do anything in today’s world, but I’m getting side-tracked, aren’t I?

As I was saying, I had felt that everything in life would be perfect if only I could have those massive muscles that I so much admired. I would have the strength to meet every challenge, the fortitude to outclass any potential rival or task, and the confidence to easily influence events to my benefit. And, at that time, I realized that that was something to strive for. At that moment, I decided that my life-long dream would to grow to be as strong as my ideals and to become as massively muscular as any human could get.

But, alas, things don’t always go as they are planned, especially when the plans result from the fascinations, ideals, and dreams of a five or six year old boy, advanced though my intellectual mind may have been for that age. For the next three years, I tried to live as I knew was necessary to obtain that kind of body. I tried eating healthy, despite the frequency of the times that my parents took me for fast food. I even started working out, though, due to my age, I could use weights yet due to risk of injury. So I worked with what was available to me and I began to take martial arts lessons.

It was great for exercise. I got the cardio that any workout needs, in spades, I might add, and I got some moderate exercise that built strength as well. It was nothing excessive, just typical things such as push-ups, sit-ups, other types of calisthenics, and extremely light sparring matches. Although it was not ideal, it was, however, a step in the right direction. And then my efforts were all but wiped away in the span of a year.

With increasing quarrels at home, when I was about eight years old, my parents divorced. This wreaked havoc on me and my siblings mentally and, eventually, in my case, physically. Due to the divorce’s drain on my parents’ financial assents, I had to be taken out of my lessons. Now that I was without exercise, and now that there were so many new emotional stresses, I quickly gained weight, moving in quite the opposite direction of my dreams.

It was shortly after my entrance into middle school that things finally settled down between my parents (the divorce was finalized in one year, but took between two and three years to fully settle between them). Around that time, several things happened. The first was that I began to reassess my values where physical traits were concerned. The second was that I began to notice, as did many young boys at that age, girls in a new light. The second of the two is pretty self explanatory. The first, though, needs a bit more definition.

As I’ve said earlier, I’ve had an abnormal attraction to muscle ever since I was a little boy. And, again, as I said earlier, the attraction was to more than simply the look of one with rippling muscles bulging with strength. There was also the element of inner strength, confidence, and control. As I re-explored my thoughts, I found that all three of the psychological aspects of having physical strength were obtainable to those without it, fairly easily obtainable, for that matter, especially to those with the wisdom to see them for what they truly are. And, once realizing that, I found myself wondering why I was still so attracted to muscle.

By the time of my thirteenth birthday, I had felt that I had an adequate amount of control over my surroundings, that I had a more than adequate amount of self-confidence, and that I had more than the necessary amount of inner strength. And yet my attraction to muscle had intensified, if nothing else. This was a most puzzling development, one that I soon began to sort my way through.

Up until this point, I had satisfied my fascination by searching out pictures of both male and female bodybuilders. I looked without discrimination, absorbing the images of both. And then, as with most people, I began to gravitate towards one gender over the other. In my case, that happened to be the female bodybuilders. And then, one day, as I was searching for more pictures of muscular women, I stumbled across a drawing of a woman undergoing muscular growth, growing out of her clothes and ripping them to shreds.

At first I was shocked by the image. I had never considered something of that sort before. About a second after the shock faded, I found myself becoming aroused by the sight. Still being relatively young (in the sense that I was just beginning to undergo puberty), I was a little uncomfortable with the experience. It just felt awkward to me.

Shortly afterwards, I once again addressed the problem of why I was still attracted to muscle so badly. I knew that the image of muscle itself was incredibly pleasing to my eyes. It hadn’t taken me long to reach that conclusion. That was why I had still pursued all of those images. But the sight of a woman tearing her clothes to ribbons of fabric from sheer size and hardness clued me into the true reason for my continued attraction. It was, purely and simply, the genuine physical strength.

The power that resides within the swollen muscular tissue of bodybuilders is truly what I craved, what I wanted, either in another or in myself.

With a new level of understanding and my desires refueled, I continued searching the net, eventually finding my way to several online forums and groups that were run by people that shared my interests. For the longest time, I sat in the back of such places, feeding my hunger with the various contributions of other members of these boards.

As time passed, I absorbed more and more, eventually developing my own particular fantasies, ranging from intimately being with a female bodybuilder to bearing witness to a beautiful woman’s transformation into a beautiful buxom amazon, which happened to become my favorite.

By the time that I had entered high school, my ideas of what made an attractive woman had fully matured, leaving my ideal woman as extremely athletic at worst, hyper-muscular at best. And always, without fail, any woman that I fantasized about had every quality that was typically seen as attractive in spades (big breasts, flawless features, etc.).

And, as with any teenager, especially with all of the pressures associated with high school, all tensions must find a way out, otherwise they start eating at you. At first, I tried talking with my father about everything, every stress that I felt, whether school related or my more carnal fascinations. It didn’t go too well. Any concerns that I had were laughed at or away.

So my frustrations were turned inwards, festering within my psyche for a time. But, no matter how much you repress an issue, it always, without fail, finds a way out. For some, it comes out in a destructive manner, usually self-destructive, but not always. For me, it came out in the form of my vivid imagination.

As I got closer and closer to my senior year of high school, I began to develop, without realizing it at first, various tricks of the mind that any student, or any person at all, would find useful. I’m not talking about anything supernatural or fancy, they’re just mental techniques that anyone can use, such as splitting your focus, photographic memory, and hyper-focus.

The funny thing about photographic memory and hyper-focus is that, when done at the same time, what you are visualizing becomes all encompassing. Every sense is tied into what you are “seeing”, so much so that it is to the exclusion of everything else. Which can be a royal pain when you’re sitting in class daydreaming and a sexual fantasy slips its way into your mind. Thankfully, I was never caught. I don’t think that I would’ve been able to handle that much embarrassment.

But, regardless of that, those daydreams revealed something to me: I could spin entire stories within my mind, tales and fantasies that could seem to last for hours, but, in reality, last for only about thirty minutes. Eventually, I began to write out some of these stories, allowing the words to flow from the images that my mind conjured.

By the end of the month that I started doing that, I was writing my own stories, some meant for the public to view and others for the more exclusive eyes of those that I befriended on the web boards.

I truly enjoyed writing those stories. It was just the relief that I needed to allow my mind to release the tension that I had built up for so long. Unfortunately, as I wrote some of my favorite stories, a truth came to light that I was not entirely happy with: this was all fantasy.

I had completely fallen in love with the idea of a woman, either already gorgeous or not-so-attractive, growing stronger, bigger, and sexier as she burst from her restrictive clothing, emerging into the world as an amazonic sex goddess. It was an impossible dream, but it was still an alluring one.

It created a type of depression that I was completely unfamiliar with. Simply put, the thing that I craved the most was something that I could never experience. It wasn’t until I was in college that I finally came to grips with this conundrum, just like I had with everything else. During these reflections, I also realized how incredibly complex this originally simple secret had become.

I went on with my life, living it day-by-day as so many others do. I went to my classes; I did my homework; I even got a job at a local general store/pharmacy.  I more or less became one of the faceless people in the crowd, both physically and mentally. Or, at least, I did for a time.

When you work at a pharmacy, you’ll see a whole bunch of odd purchases. A rather extreme example would be this one guy who was working for the athletics department of my university. Using a credit card funded by the university, just in time for Halloween, he made a one-thousand dollar purchase on my register. Five hundred of it was nothing but candy. The other five hundred, and this is not a joke, was stomach medicine.

Another unique purchase, and again, this is not a joke, was this one guy that bought a package of tissues, a pack of one of those drugs that promotes “natural male enhancement” (in other words, think wood), and then asks if we carry “adult” magazines. It was all that I could do not to laugh.

But interesting as those purchases were, there was really only one that truly stood out in my mind. Not only were the items themselves a little unusual, but the customer was an oddity too, and, though I didn’t know it at the time, this one would introduce the second of the two secrets that have enriched my life so.

Every now and then, since we sell all sorts of health products, and it is stationed on a college campus, it’s only natural that we get fitness and health enthusiasts as customers quite often. Several even borderline on being bodybuilders. Out of the ones that looked like they were aspiring bodybuilders, they were mostly guys. Almost all of the girls were just athletic looking. There were some, however, that were borderlining on what would be termed buff. Those women made my job a little awkward, for obvious reasons.

This particular woman was one of the more buff ones, but she didn’t look like anything more than an aerobics regular. She came in just before closing time and was certainly a beautiful one. Long blonde hair framed her beautiful, tanned face. She had clear, beautiful blue eyes and perfectly proportioned features. Her lips were full and plump, and her teeth were perfectly white. She had the face of an angel and the body of a goddess, although what she was wearing at the time did not truly show off her physique. I only got a general idea from what her clothes revealed.

That was what really set her apart from all of the other customers that came into our store. Her clothes were unusually loose about her frame. But that really doesn’t describe her manner of dress properly. She wore a loose, long-sleeved white blouse and some somewhat baggy khakis. The sleeves and the top of her shirt were unbuttoned, revealing her toned forearms and a good portion of her lightly muscled chest and fair-sized breasts.

The manner in which she wore her clothing didn’t seem to…well… fit. Being loose is one thing, but it looked as if they were meant to fit a larger person. Again, it’s kind of difficult to describe. The size itself was designed for a bigger person, but the manner of her dress looked as if it was intentionally worn for someone with a bigger frame.

Regardless, she was extremely sexy, in my opinion, so, I, of course, gave her my full attention.

As I alluded to earlier, there was something else out of place. Her purchase was extremely expensive. Now that in itself is not that big of a deal, but what she had bought that was so interesting.

She had three baskets full of three things: metabolism enhancers, multivitamins, and meal-replacement shakes. By everything that she showed, she didn’t need any of those things, let alone in those amounts. But, as was my job, I rang her out.

Due to the amount of things that she bought, she had to make a good number of trips from our store to her dorm. She went well past closing time, but I stayed with her with the keys so I could lock up after she was done, an action that my boss could have gotten canned for, but I’ve proven myself quite trustworthy, so he decided to risk it. It’s something that I don’t think that I’ve ever been able to thank him enough for.

Soon after everyone else had left for the night, she finally was able to grab the last of her stuff. She seemed unusually tired as she left for the last time. She didn’t have to go that far, and none of it was that heavy. I thought that it was odd, but I didn’t pay it much mind.

After she was gone, just before I locked the doors of the store, I saw a wallet lying on the counter by the register. I went over and picked it up and looked at the ID inside of it. I was a little surprised by owner’s identity: it was that girl. Her name was Mayim Aquus and she actually lived just a block away.

Feeling that it was my duty to return it to her, I took it and left the store, locking it behind me, of course. It was unusually dark that night. There was no traffic, so the streets lacked their usual luster.

Despite the lack of light, I felt completely at ease in this part of town. There wasn’t much around there that I didn’t know about, or so I thought. Just before I got to her building’s front door, I passed by an alley right next to her building were I encountered something quite unexpected.

At first, I was going to pass it by, not paying it any mind, but an odd noise drew my attention to it. It sounded like a loud grunt. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like one of pain.

Typically, when you hear any noise created by pain coming from down a dark alley, you want to move in the other direction. But it was a woman that was groaning, and I was a little more than afraid that Mayim was the source.

Trying not to panic, I turned down the alley, hoping to find the source of the commotion. I got my answer in a single spot of light at the end of the alley, next to a door that led to Mayim’s dorm.

In the flickering light of the single lamp that lit that corner of the dead-end alley stood a large, hunched-over figure. Not wanting to be spotted, I ducked behind a nearby dumpster, peeking out over the top.

The hulking form slowly rose to its full height, which I estimated to be about six and a half feet, revealing more than a few features to me. This individual was definitely female. Ever with her back mostly to me, I could still see the enormous rise of her bust.

But large as her breasts were, they weren’t what took my breath away. What truly got my heart pounding was the fact that every shred of her clothing was filled to bursting with such incredibly dense muscle. As she got up, I could hear her body straining against the fabric, occasionally resulting in a pop or slight tearing noise.

I couldn’t see too much due to the poor lighting, but I could make out enough. Each rippling muscle twitched and jumped as she moved. She turned around towards the only exit to the alley, which meant that she was facing me, though I knew that she couldn’t see me. Her face was still in shadow, but I could still see her grin as she flexed both arms, tearing more than a few holes in her sleeves.

Reveling in the sensations of ripping fabric, she let out a primal roar or pleasure. I fully ducked behind the dumpster, hiding as completely as possible. While I felt that her physical form was probably the hottest thing that I had ever seen, it was also one of the scariest. I may love muscular woman, but something about the whole situation was just not right. It was almost like the muscle growth stories that I had become so fond of reading and writing. A newly formed amazon, appearing out of nowhere, flexing her muscles and reveling in her new form, and fully enjoying her newly developed physique.

It just wasn’t normal. After a few minutes, I took another peek at what lay at the end of the alley. She was gone. All that was left were the shredded remains of her clothes, what looked to have originally been a white shirt and khaki pants.

Once again, the thought of how similar this was to my stories crossed my mind. I reflected about how impossible the situation was as I picked up the tattered remains of her clothing. Confused, I left the alley and entered Mayim’s dorm from the front entrance.

After receiving a stern scolding from the security officer in charge of the dorm for coming for a visit at this late hour, he directed me to Mayim’s room. I got there in short order and promptly knocked on the door.

As I waited for a response, I thought back to this evening’s strange events. Everything pointed to the impossible chance that Mayim had actually transformed into an amazon. If that were true, and she had succumbed to such savage impulses, what would I find? But did it really matter? People can’t change like that in real life after all, right?

The minutes slowly crept by and no one answered. I knocked again, hoping that she’d answer soon. If not, I’d have to hold onto the wallet until tomorrow, which was a situation that I did not really want to be in.

Not too long after my second attempt, the door opened, revealing Mayim’s beautiful face. I couldn’t see her body too well, but what I could see was wrapped in a towel. Apparently she had just gotten out of the shower. I gave her a discreet look-over, trying to see if there was any evidence to the wild theories that were bouncing around in my mind.

From what I could see, she looked just as athletic as she did when she was in the store. And that was only natural. After all, I told myself, people can’t really transform like I was thinking.

I pushed those thoughts from my mind quickly. The last thing that I wanted to do right now was make a bad impression. I quickly explained why I had stopped by and how I knew where she lived. I gave her her wallet and left, heading towards my own dorm. I thought that that would be the last time that I would see her, but fate had something different in store.

The semester came and went with no further contact with Mayim. While I had not forgotten about her, she had somewhat fallen to the back of my mind. It wasn’t until the beginning of the next semester that I saw her again. Without realizing it, we had registered in a biology class together.

When we saw each other, she didn’t recognize me, or at least I don’t think that she did. I certainly remembered her, and on several occasions, I tried to spark a relationship with her, but she always seemed kind of distant. It was baffling, but I more or less left her alone after that.

Before long, I realized that I was completely fixated on her for some unknown reason. I was sitting fairly close to her, always close enough to get a good look at her athletic body and beautiful features. There were other subtle things that I had started doing without realizing it as well. I even began to take a slightly different path to my dorm which took me down the same path that she took, and I made sure to pass by her place whenever I was heading to work.

When I finally realized what I was doing, I panicked, thinking that I had become little more than a common stalker. Soon after this I made this dark revelation, I took a deeper look at it. Why was I practically following this woman that, at the moment, seems to want to have nothing to do with me? There was more to it that I just wasn’t seeing. At first, I thought that it was the fact that she was just drop-dead gorgeous, but that didn’t seem to fit the situation. Sure she was incredibly beautiful, but that wasn’t exactly something to drive me to practically stalk her.

My thoughts moved on to other possibilities, but only one other stuck. She was athletic, borderlining on muscular. It was likely that the fact that, with a little effort, she could become the kind of woman that I dreamed about. But that didn’t seem to fit either.

Finally, it hit me. It wasn’t exactly the fact that she was already strong or that she could get stronger. The thing that had continuously drawn me to her was the image that had burned its way into my mind the night that I had met her: the shadow-shrouded figure that rippled with inhuman muscular mass, bursting through her sleeves while roaring with the thrill of power, later destroying all that she was wearing. Even though I never got to see that mystery woman’s face, my mind couldn’t let go of the fact that it was entirely possible that it was Mayim that I had seen that night, and that, if that were true, then my impossible fantasy would be more improbable than impossible.

That was why my subconscious was so insistent on my following Mayim. She now represented the only hope that I had that my fantasy could become more than simply a dream. It could become my reality. It was all that I could ever wish for.

So I did what any person would do when their dream of dreams might come true: I devoted every waking hour to either trying to realize the dream or daydreaming about the instant that I made it a reality.

In those daydreams, I could picture Mayim growing slowly out of her clothes, trying to seduce me (and succeeding), each massive muscle flexing again and again, showing off their increasing power. I could almost feel the swelling muscles of her body, so hard against my own body as well as the soft mounds that were her growing tits, growing even larger beneath my hands as I played with her large, rigid nipples. I could hear her moans of increasing pleasure and smell the hearty aroma of the sweat that covered her mutating form with an oily sheen.

More than once, these thoughts almost landed me into some very awkward situations. But, like I said, these daydreams weren’t the only thing that occupied my time. I began to pay more and more attention to Mayim, more than once slipping into my fantasies, watching her transformation interrupting class time and time again, but, despite that, I made several interesting observations.

The most noticeable, at first, was that she had practically no friends, let alone a social life. It seemed as if she was intentionally avoiding everyone. It was odd, but nothing indicative.

The next thing that came to my attention, since we also ate at the same cafeteria, was that she hardly ate anything. She had an incredible physique, but she ate as if she were anorexic. Just like so many other things about this situation, it just didn’t fit.

But the third thing that I noticed, while it was the most subtle and took the longest to figure out, was probably what really got my attention. After about half of a semester of watching her from afar, it suddenly hit me that her athletic physique, awesome though it may be, was not constant. It seemed that she was a little different every day. One day she would be simply toned, another she would be rippling with lean muscle. Sometimes you could see veins spread across her arms, and on others there was not a one to be seen.

There was really only one thing about her person that stayed constant, and that was that her clothes were almost always several sizes too big. It continued to baffle me, but, assuming that my wild fancies were true, it made sense.

The more that I watched her, the more it seemed as if she really could change into a rippling mass of femuscular perfection. It just seemed too good to be true. Oddly enough, despite how much time I watched her, I had never seen her give a hint of changing. And so the semester continued with no event of any real significance taking place.

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I continued working at the drug store and went to my classes. She continued with her classes and came into my store every so often for her usual purchase of weight reducing products. Things continued as they had for so long, going through the same boring routine day after day after day. That is, until Finals season started.

As with anything extremely stressful, people can do odd things to relieve said stress. Some people resort to drugs, others retreat into the various other worlds within video games, role playing games, and books. Still others begin to work out more often, putting their bodies through torture to relieve their minds, while a few torture their bodies in other ways, gorging themselves with snacks and sweets, letting their health deteriorate little by little.

I, as I usually do when confronted with something incredibly stressful, had my usual bout of insomnia. Thankfully, it wasn’t true insomnia. When I needed to, I could get to sleep (though more often than not it involved relieving stress by killing zombies in my video games for about three hours). So, while tired most of the time, I could still keep my act together.

Mayim, however, wasn’t so lucky. It seemed that her already odd habits intensified as we got closer and closer to finals. She became more reclusive, not even saying “hi” to me when she came into the store. She seemed to always be distracted with something. Several times, she would get a panicked look on her face and bolt for the nearest exit, looking as if she were straining against her own body, forcing it to move. She claimed that she was about to throw up (or otherwise get sick) every one of those times, but I wasn’t so sure.

Every observation that I had made about her earlier in the semester came back into focus when paired with her odd new behavior. She rarely sat with anyone, and when she did, she didn’t talk much, if at all. She ate even less now, but her body still retained its level of fitness. It looked, at times, almost as if it had become more athletic, flat-out buff, really, despite her lack of nutrition. And, of course, her clothes were still baggy, a little more so now, if anything else. Things just got weirder and weirder as time went on.

Eventually, due to the impending tests, I had to take several weeks off of work to study properly. My academic studies, however, did not distract me from my “social studies”. I paid closer attention to Mayim as she became more and more agitated the closer we got to the exam dates.

Eventually, the reason for her strange actions came to light, though I’m fairly certain that I was the only person to actually realize what was going on.

A couple of days before finals, she finally couldn’t hold back whatever her problems were and she came dangerously close to divulging her secret in a most inconvenient location.

I went into a local cafeteria for a late dinner. I had been studying for most of the evening, until about nine o’clock, by my guess. There were relatively few people there at the time, most students long since relocating to the various libraries and study halls that dotted our fair campus, so that much was fortunate.

Much to my surprise, Mayim was sitting at a table not to far from where I was, wearing a sleeveless tank top, studying with a friend. I don’t know which surprised me more, the fact that she wasn’t being reclusive for once, the fact that she wasn’t wearing her usual baggy clothes, or the fact that she actually was sitting with someone and conversing with them.

Regardless, not more than a second after I finished my food (if it could be called that) I felt that something was… well… wrong. There was something out of place in the room. My vision flicked over to Mayim for a second, moved on, then did a double take.

Mayim’s face was a mask of pain. Watching it was about as agonizing as the pain that she was probably feeling. She let out a moan of pain, quickly excused herself, and then made a quick break for the front door. She left as fast as possible, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Like I said, no one else may have been able to figure out what was going on, but I could. As she passed by, I caught a glimpse of her arm, which she was struggling to keep covered with her other arm. What I saw was enough to make my jaw drop. On her previously toned arm, covered by thickening veins, were her biceps, a swollen, pulsing mass of dense muscle.

In the instant that I saw that one image, everything clicked. Why she was such a loner, why she behaved and ate so oddly, not to mention why her body seemed to change almost daily. Her body must be in a constant state of flux between an average woman and a muscle-bound goddess.

I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be possible, but from everything that I had seen, it was. It had to be. How else could you explain what I just saw?

As soon as I came back to my senses, I took off through the door that she left through. At first, I thought that I was afraid that I would lose her, but it turned out that the pain that her apparent change was causing her slowed her down enough for me to see her turn a corner at the end of the block. I chased after her, trying my best to keep up.

While her pain may have been debilitating at first, it certainly wasn’t anymore. It seemed that she was well into her transformation, and, with her strength picking up, she was going faster and faster. Soon, I was keeping up with her shadow, not her. Thankfully, she didn’t get to far ahead. She was within my range of sight when she finally collapsed in the middle of one of the many deserted landscaped parks, completely succumbing to the change, which was now visible, even from this distance.

I continued running, feeling myself getting more and more aroused at the thought of what I was about to witness. I was about to live out my dream!

I finally got to the park, just as the good part was getting underway. I hid behind one of the bushes and got ready to enjoy the show.

She was writhing on the ground groaning in pain as the change fully took control of her body. In no time, her entire body was twitching and swelling with muscle. Although I could only see her arms at the moment, seeing them gave me a good idea of what was happening beneath her rippling clothing.

Veins spread across her shifting flesh, feeding her engorged muscles, making them swell larger, get harder, bulge enough to strain the clothing. I watched as the toned bicep of one arm stretched to match the first arm to change, the one that I had seen in the cafeteria. The growth spread from her biceps to her triceps, then split into two directions, part of the growth moved into her forearms, the other into her shoulders.

Her forearms spread, getting harder and more defined, the muscles thickening into iron-strong cables of might. The tendons thickened and the bones grew. Her hands spread out, doubling in size in mere seconds.

Her shoulders spread out as well, swelling and dividing into three separate heads. As her arms continued to grow, her deltoids pushed out, broadening her shoulders into something that would make any linebacker jealous. Her swollen shoulders were the first thing to begin the destruction of her clothes, stretching out the top of her tank top.

Her cries of agony echoed from the trees of the park as the change continued its brutal assault on her body. She now looked a little oddly formed, her much larger arms now hanging down close to the ground, making the rest of her body look oddly small, but it didn’t stay that way for long.

Sounds of pleasure mixed into her cries of pain as the change continued from her arms down into the rest of her body, changing more… sensitive areas. Her chest expanded first, the muscle building before her breasts began to grow at all. More ropes of muscle bulged and twisted about her torso, changing it into a much grander design. Her pecs thickened, stretching out her shapely tits, mashing them flat and pushing against her tank top.

Her abs rippled beneath her shirt, moving it, showing the pattern of the mutating muscle beneath it, if not the muscle itself. At the same time, her back began to flare out, pulling her shirt in every direction, stretching it completely taut. I could now see the defined muscles of her front or back, whichever she wasn’t lying on at the time, pressed tightly against her tank top. I could see every twitch, every bulge, every ripple as they continued to swell.

It wasn’t until the changes reached the base of her abdominals did she get any real pleasure out of the pain. Upon reaching the top of her pelvic region, her breasts began to swell and grow, driving even more pleasure into the transformation, almost completely overwhelming the pain. Her tits bloated slower than her muscles had, but that only drove the pleasure on longer.

Soon after her boobs began to grow, the change apparently drove its way deep into her moistening sex, strengthening her vaginal muscles, because she soon exhibited all of the signs of orgasm for no apparent reason. Her abs twitched, her legs buckled, and a primal roar of lust, just like what I had heard that first night, tore its way from her lips.

One of her gargantuan hands soon drove its way into her sensitive folds, keeping the pleasure going. As the change continued, her breasts continued to swell with a pulsing motion, each throb moving her nipples across the overtaxed fabric of her tank top, forcing them to grow longer and more rigid with each passing second. With her other large hand, she reached up and squeezed one, letting out another roar of mixed pleasure and pain.

But the change was far from over. Incredibly tight though her top may be, her lower half really hadn’t changed all that much. Yet. With another orgasmic spasm, the change moved down into her buttocks, forcing a radical change in the topography of her backside. It swelled and bulged outward, rounding, hardening, forming into the perfect amazonian shape. But it didn’t take on that smooth, flawless quality at first. It wasn’t until the transformation hit her legs that she got that sleek, sexy look that is so well modeled in the beautiful flexing of the muscles of a hunting cat.

Her hamstrings bulged out first, soon followed by her quads. Veins showed up against the fabric of her jeans in stark relief as the hardening muscle underneath pushed ever upwards, swelling with such force that the seams of her jeans popped and creaked in protest, nearly splitting all the way. Her claves then joined the fun, forming a perfect diamond shape, nearly bursting through the lower part of her jeans.

Her feet finally finished the main part of the transformation, stretching and growing so forcefully that they snapped the straps of her flip-flops, completely overshadowing what was left of them with their mass.

The change finished up by furthering the growth of all that had changed so far, making everything grow bigger, thicker, harder, and more defined. She stood up and as she did so, she began flexing, just like she did that first night, although she didn’t seem to be conscious of doing it.

The beautiful sound of ripping fabric filled the night as her diamond-hard muscles shredded through her flimsy clothing. With a final roar, the change finally ended. The sight that greeted my eyes was nothing short of amazing.

There she was, the lights of the nearby street showing her body in stark relieve, everything being pretty much black or white.

Strips of fabric hung from her body like streamers, not really covering anything save for her crotch. She now stood at least six foot six, possibly taller, every inch covered with beautifully sculpted muscle. She stood in the odd lighting, panting heavily, muscles twitching randomly.

Every muscle was clearly cut and defined, straining against the skin, not giving as much as a micrometer of slack. There was not an ounce of fat on her body, let alone any soft curve, save for her now bulbous breasts, each one at least as big as a basketball, each one floating weightlessly on each pec.

Thick veins crisscrossed every bulge of every muscle, feeding them with nourishing blood. The whole image was one that I doubt that I could have conjured in my wildest fantasies.

Soon after heat from the change had left her, she regained her breath and straightened to her full height. Without warning, her head swung around towards where I was, staring straight at me. Suddenly it dawned on me that, during the excitement I had stood up to get a better view. I was out in the open. And she saw me.

All hints of arousal fled from both my mind and body as she sprang towards me, a low growl escaping from her lips.

I didn’t even bother to try to run. She tore through the feeble shield that the brush in front of me provided and grabbed me by the shirt.

With one hand, she lifted me clearly from the ground, her arm barely even showing the slightest hint of effort as she held me steady almost a foot from the ground. She stared into my eyes for a few seconds, reveling in the fear that was quite obviously there. She smiled evilly before speaking. I can’t recall the exact words at the time, but what she said went along the lines of “You found out my little secret, now you’re going to die. No one’s going to know what kind of freak I am this time.”

When a muscular blonde that weighs at least three, maybe four times what you do, out of pure muscle, and is holding you aloft by one hand, you typically don’t think straight if at all. Typically, you’d be doing your best to try to put you head between you legs and kiss your ass good-bye. But, thankfully, one thing separates me from most other people: I happen to love amazons. I was just scared witless for a moment.

I grasped at the first fleeting thought that came to my mind. Just before she was about to unleash a devastating punch that would have split my skull at best, I made a remark about her awesome beauty. It stopped her in her tracks, though she looked doubtful.

I had quite a time convincing her that my thinking of her as beautiful woman were sincere, but I finally convinced her to, if not believe me, then to trust me long enough to prove it.

Together with my new friend, we snuck back to where my dorm was and used the fire escape to get to my room. I don’t think that I had ever been so grateful to be without a roommate. I tried to get her inside as quietly as possible, but you try to get a six and a half foot amazon through a widow that was considered small for me. Eventually, she was able to get inside. If she had grown any more, it would have been impossible.

I turned on my computer and showed her exactly what I meant when I had said that I adored muscular women, that they were the biggest turn on for me and that I truly did fantasize about women growing in the way that she just did.

It took over an hour to go over all of the information, to adequately prove that I did truly mean what I said. When it was all done with, Mayim just stood there numbly, staring at the images on the computer screen. With a thunderous crash, she fell backwards and sat on my bed, shaking the floor and rattling the windows of the building.

Without any warning, she put her head in her hands and began to weep uncontrollably. I sat there, waiting for her emotions to play themselves out. Finally, when she had calmed down a bit, I moved over to the bed and sat next to her, resting my hand on her incredibly hard shoulder. I had to fight my initial reaction to the touch. I dearly wanted to screw her brains out at the moment, but now wasn’t the time for such a bold move.

She finally stopped crying, revealing to me her whole, sad story. She was born with this curse; a mutation in her genetic code that caused her body to produce and digest everything in irregular intervals, generally muscle tissue, but, as had been demonstrated upon hitting puberty, the mammalian fat tissue that makes up the teats was something else that was produced. And then, again at random intervals, her metabolism would increase unbelievably to remove all that was added. And the pain that was associated with the change was not something that the body normally did. It resulted from her own resistance to the transformation.

It was something that defied what should be biologically possible, but it happened regardless. All through her life, she was shunned because of this mutation. Even her parents held her at a distance as she was growing up. Never once did she meet anyone who did not view her as a freak. And finally she had. She could finally let go of all of that pain, of all of the agony that she had held inside of her for so long. Now she could enjoy the changes, like she did when she was little, before the shadow of prejudice had darkened her life. She could once again revel in the feeling of power as it flooded her body. She could once again find the pleasure in the change and in the strength.

Not long after this revelation was made, she turned towards me, her eyes meeting mine. I would take someone who had been blind from birth to not see the shine of pure, never-before-released lust in her eyes. And even if you missed the gleam in her eyes, the tone of her voice said everything.

She practically dove on top of me, ripping my clothes from my body in one of the most erotic moves that I could have ever imagined. I watched her muscles strain slightly as they tore the denim of my jeans and the fabric of my shirt to shreds. Thankfully, she kept enough of her wits about her to properly pull off my shoes, otherwise that could have gotten nasty, but she ripped my socks and undergarments off just as she had done with my jeans and shirt. She didn’t even have to flex for me for me to get my dick up. I was at attention before she had really done anything.

Hardly conscious of what she was doing, she tore the remaining tatters of clothes from her body, fully revealing her magnificent form to me. She then bore down on my body, burying me beneath her bulk. Despite the weight, I didn’t mind. It was all that I could hope for. I could feel her iron-hard muscles pushing down on my body as got my erect phallus inside her. It was a feeling unlike anything that I had ever experienced.

Now, I was by no means a virgin, but there is an indescribable difference between the vaginal walls of an average woman and those of a woman who’s every muscle had grown to superhuman proportions, even those that aren’t normally thought of as muscles (such as those that line the vaginal walls), but regardless, the feeling was incredible. She gyrated her hips perfectly, her muscles flexed against my body, every sensation magnified itself one hundred-fold every second that this incredible experience went on.

We moved together in perfect harmony, almost to the point where we couldn’t tell who was doing what actions. Together, we ground our hips together amidst sessions of thrusting. I’d knead her marvelous breasts, then she would feel them up. She’d flex, we’d both run our hands over her amazonian body, feeling every hard curve, every brawny plate of muscle as they jumped at her command. We’d cry out from the pleasure, sometimes one after the other, sometimes together. It was an orgy the likes of which the world has never seen. We orgasmed together, time and time again, until finally, both of our stores of energy spent, we collapsed into unconsciousness. The last thought that I had before I fell under was how incredibly grateful I was that she had forgotten to turn the lights off.

The next morning, I awoke to find Mayim back in her beautiful but normal form. She still looked extremely athletic, but she no longer had those massive muscles that I had loved so much. Seeing her like that wasn’t really that much of a surprise. After all, last night had taken a lot out of both of us. And besides, I knew that those muscles would be back at some point.

Eventually, she woke. We talked for a time about last night, but there wasn’t that much to talk about. Apparently she found it very “therapeutic”. From that point on, we had a steady relationship with each other. The changes were random at first, but I finally noticed a pattern.

She changed any time that her body was under some sort of extreme stress. It didn’t matter the cause of the stress, so long as it was over something important, such as important schoolwork or a dangerous situation. Eventually, we figured out how to completely control the change, so she could avoid the change when stressed and force the transformation at will.

We had fun.

Eventually, out of college, we settled down together and started a family. We had twins, a boy and a girl. Our son, Silex, turned out to be a lot stronger than should be naturally possible. Our daughter, Aria, seemed to heavily favor her mother, if you get my meaning. Currently they are both in high school and both are using their gifts responsibly. Well… they usually do, anyway. But interesting that that may be, that’s a story for another time.

[astrosmurf]

Fantastic story!  Thanks so much for sharing it!  8)

[nam]

Nice work as always, and a happy ending.
Happy bday too, was mine on the 26th.

[Prophet Tenebrae]

Good stuff, gblock. Some lovely descriptions in there and a nice story… shame we didn't have some of their learning experiences with the change… the lack of dialogue was to the detriment of the story but still enjoyable.

[gblock01]

It's true that there's no dialogue, but that was intentional. I was writing this as if the main character was telling a story from long ago. I don't know about you, but when I try to remember something that happened years ago, I can't remember anything that anyone said back then. I may remember the gist of what they are saying, but not the exact words. And the reason that I didn't go into the learning experiences is because i wanted it to be done by my birthday and to hit my 400th post. Writing it took longer than I thought so, as usual with my stories, I had to rush the ending.

[egad]

Great Story

[ze fly]

Another fantastic one. 😉

[lalolanda]

Thanks for the story!

[ScottG]

Very nice story.  Can't wait to read your next one.

[Author]

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