[The_Pimp_NeonBlack]

Thank you for this most wonderful continuation, dear Fonk.
You are indeed a true master of the art of the Tale and for that, I's do praise you so.
Kudos unto you for all your effort.
Peace
The Pimp NeonBlack

[Matthew Sicherman]

Hi Fonk 8-),
I agree another great chapter and as expected the plot thickins. I'm enjoying the slow growth process and I loved your graphic discriptions of Flrida Cranes' growth and muscles. I wonder if their is some secret in Amber's past or her Mom's past which is connected to her transformation into a superwoman. I look forward to the next chapter.
Rodman

Personally, I suspect the reason for her growth is that the T-shirt she bought at the start of the story is magical. Rememember, she didn't start growing until she put on the shirt, and she's been wearing it constantly.

[ze fly]

Absolutely enthralling!!!

[Mr. Stone]

Then there is the question of what she does with it.  She seems like a great girl, but power can do strange things to people. 

Great job, Fonk-meister.  Florida Crane was an excallent yarn and this is no different.  Just tell the girl to be easy on us poor, imperfect mortals.  😉 

[Fonk]

So, every four days, he says. :-[ This is the sixth part, right here. I hope you like it!

————

The White Knight Cometh – Part 6

If Devon heard Amber's yelling, he chose to ignore it. The young woman was soaping her body up in the shower, trying not to cry at her distinctly unfeminine new form. Everywhere she touched, she found unpleasant muscle ruining her formerly voluptuous and womanly curves. Amber finished her shower in a violently unhappy mood, wrapped a towel around herself and stormed into her bedroom.

A long time ago her mother had taught her to always look for the plus points in any situation and concentrate on them as a way to turn anger around. As Amber towelled herself down, she began to think about what they were. One of the points was immediately obvious.

"I'll never need a bra again," she thought, carefully drying her FF cup bust. "Which is just as well," she muttered.

"I have a killer arse now," she continued, warming to the theme. "And maybe this strength will be handy in the bedroom." Her eyes glittered at the thought of being able to match Devon thrust for thrust.

Having cheered herself up, Amber slipped on some panties and opened her wardrobe with a flourish, hoping to find something good that would still fit. She selected a pair of cut-off denim shorts, which showed off most of her powerful legs, and a white sleeveless shirt. Amber decided to leave two buttons at the top and bottom of the shirt undone, mostly to relieve the pressure at chest level. This meant a good two and a half inches of cleavage was on show – some of which was from her pectoral muscles – as well as most of her rippling stomach. Identically bulging arm muscles were also clearly on display.

Amber loaded up a small black bag with wallet, keys and phone. She slipped her sexiest heels on and, saying goodbye to Devon, set out to the club where she was meeting Jenni and Caitlin.

The three girls had met when they had been paired with the same personal tutor at university, along with a very quiet and greasy-haired boy called Trevor. The girls had bonded almost instantly. Though they barely shared any classes this semester, they still got together for a night out at least once a fortnight and, of course, saw each other through tutorials. As she got closer to town, Amber was saddened that she might have to stop going out with them as part of her promise to Sunita: the three always had a great time.

As she headed into the town centre, Amber buttoned up her shirt. The warm day had deceivingly turned into a cold night – as evidenced by the young woman's erect nipples trying to pierce holes through her tight-fitting shirt. Amber shivered slightly as she turned down an alley that was a shortcut to the Calypso Club, where Caitlin and Jenni were waiting. Although the alley was deserted, Amber had the distinct feeling that she was being watched.

Each footstep brought more fear into the young woman's heart. She wrapped her arms around her torso, fighting to keep the heat in her body, as a chill wind whistled through the alley. She stepped up the pace. Once or twice a dog barked, scaring Amber into spinning on the spot with a little gasp. Despite her fears, she reached the end of the alley unscathed and emerged onto a surprisingly empty but thankfully well-lit street.

Instantly there was a loud crash as a window barely thirty feet away smashed into pieces. Shocked, Amber slipped back into the alley and peered around the wall to observe the scene. A couple of men, dressed in black trousers, jumpers and balaclavas, were behind the noise: they had put a brick through the window and were smashing the rest of the glass out in order to get safely through the gap they'd created. Amber watched them, breathing heavily but quietly. The shattered window belonged to a sports clothing store. The men were pushing mannequins dressed in the latest Arsenal, Chelsea and Manchester United football kits aside and making their way into the main part of the store.

Amber was about to phone the police on her mobile when the most reckless thought to ever enter her head popped up.

"I could stop them myself," she whispered. The student looked down at her forearms, clenching her hands into fists and watching the veins in her arms writhe and pulse. "Or at least, keep them busy until the police can show up."

Diligently Amber rang the emergency number, stating the nature of her complaint calmly, carefully and concisely. Then she flipped her phone closed, took a deep breath, and walked purposefully towards the shop. She picked her way through the tiny shards of glass and entered the store. Her pulse quickened as she heard the men making sounds on the second floor.

Silently Amber slipped her shoes into her bag, hoping this would give her eyes time to adjust to the blackness. Her heart was beating rapidly and she was cursing the insane decision to enter the shop. She took several deep breaths.

"Can't quit now," she thought, and began to pad as quietly as possible up the stairs. The young woman could make out crashes and whispering from above, and there were random flashes of light which she guessed, correctly, were made by torches.

Magically none of the stairs creaked as Amber climbed them. She got her head just high enough to be able to see where the men were: they were right over the other side of the darkened room, trying to break into the manager's office. Acting entirely on instinct, Amber took the last few stairs two at a time and hid herself behind a pillar. Her night eyes were on strong, aided by the torches. As she peered round, Amber could see the black-clad men trying to crowbar the lock open. She hid behind the pillar again.

Later Amber wondered how the youths had not heard her heart beating and found her, as it was racing nineteen to the dozen when she made her move. The student dodged from pillar to pillar, hiding behind racks of jogging bottoms and swimsuits, pausing as often as possible to make sure she had not been seen. As she approached, the men broke the lock open and got into the office. Amber tiptoed across the shop floor and she, too, entered the office. But the men were waiting for her.

The shorter of the two let fly with a right hook that squarely hit Amber's left breast. The student stepped back a pace from the impact and her boob began to sting.

"Do you mind?" she said, right before swinging with her own right fist. Amber Knight, who had never gotten into a fight in her life, never learned any martial art, had no technique and certainly no style, connected with the man's jaw, spinning him round once and knocking him out cold.

Quickly Amber looked around for the second man, but he found her first. The crowbar slammed into the right side of her torso as the man attacked from behind the door. Amber fell to the ground with the blow. Recovering, she was able to roll out of the way as the thief brought the crowbar down.

"That would have hit my head," some rational part of her brain informed her. "Can't think about that now!" a more practical part insisted.

She stood up quickly, dodging the man's wild lunge. Filled with adrenaline, Amber aimed a kick at the man's crowbar hand. It connected, sending the weapon into the air and onto what Amber guessed was a desk, from the sound it made.

"That evens things up a little," she said, smiling at the man. Then she simply ran at him, rugby tackling him to the ground.

He was caught unawares by the force Amber put into the move and crashed to the floor. Quickly the student straddled the man. In a business-like fashion, as if she did it all the time, Amber flipped him onto his front and secured his arms behind his back.

"Now all we have to do," she said briskly, "is wait for the police to get here." The man groaned.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Twenty minutes later, Amber was giving her statement to a kindly-looking officer, who was short and slightly fat with a big bushy moustache, slipping her heels back on as she did so. She was told it was quite likely that she would be needed as a witness in court. She nodded carefully. Thanking the man, Amber stumbled off to the club that Jenni and Caitlin had said they would be in: the Calypso.

Amber had just about got her breath back but her mind was racing and her body was filled with wild, unstoppable energy. Her eyes were on fire when she got into the club. Caitlin and Jenni were sitting at a table near the bar, choosing which of the guys to go for. Caitlin, a tall and slender blue-eyed blonde, was wearing a clingy black dress. She waved madly at Amber when she spotted her. Not even this caught Jenni's attention: she was clearly eyeing up some of the dancefloor talent. Jenni was closer to Amber's height. She too was a brunette but, like Caitlin, she was slim. She wore a grey sleeveless T-shirt, complete with a couple of necklaces to draw attention to her stunning cleavage, and a black miniskirt.

Amber walked over to her friends, air-kissed them both and explained why she was late. Seconds later – before the others could notice her new muscular physique or ask more questions about her heroics – she gave in to the urge.

"I've just got to work off this energy!" she said, and headed onto the dancefloor, beckoning for her friends to join in. That was at half past nine.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The club shut at two in the morning and Amber left at the same time, having to shoo about ten guys away. Jenni and Caitlin had long since gone home, saying they had lectures in the morning. Amber just nodded and carried on dancing. She, too, had an early lecture, but the way she felt just wouldn't allow her to leave. The student had danced non-stop since she had hit the floor, collecting quite a crowd, yet still her energy had not run out. There was only one thing on Amber's mind as she flagged a taxi down. She texted Devon to warn him of her imminent arrival and deep desire.

Amber Knight shut the front door to her flat at 2:17am. Devon, on hearing the door close, came into the hall and saw his girlfriend. He barely had time to register that her shirt was drenched in sweat before she pounced, pinning him against the wall and driving her tongue into his mouth. After ten seconds Amber released him and took a step back.

"Whu-" Devon said, but was halted by Amber placing a finger on his lips. Before he could stop her, Amber ripped the simple T-shirt that he was wearing clean off his body, tearing it right down the middle and tossing it aside.

His eyes widened in powerful lust. Amber took his hand and lead her lover into the lounge. She slammed the door shut and whipped off her shorts and panties. Amber Knight strode powerfully up to Devon and tore his boxer shorts off, freeing his burgeoning erection. Her eyes lingered on his hard-on as she licked her full lips in anticipation.

"Lie down."

Devon did as he was told. Amber straddled the muscular youth, clamping him with her thick thighs, and began thrusting. Torrents of lust washed over her, urging her to build the pace up to boiling point for both of them. Moments later she orgasmed powerfully.

"Hold – it in."

Somehow Devon managed to obey. When Amber began thrusting again, Devon started to time small upward thrusts to coincide with her downward ones. She began to growl, a growl which became a lusty roar. Amber ripped her shirt off and threw it behind her, buttons pinging all over the floor. The roar and the sight of Amber's fitness competitor standard torso – coupled with her new huge, firm breasts – was enough to push Devon over the edge.

"I'm coming!"

Amber came too. The intertwined lovers shared a moment of explosive bliss before collapsing on each other, spent.

— To Be Continued —

[iowabeefpackers]

Awesome!! The action is really picking up, and I can't wait to see where this goes. The success of the white knight's first outing can only encourage her eh? Do we see a sidekick in Devon? Any way, great stuff! thanks,  – ibp

[The_Pimp_NeonBlack]

Another most excelent additon, dear Fonk.

Thank you greatly for posting it.

Peace
Neon

[Fonk]

Back in the groove now! I have one more day of work before a good long holiday, so the next few parts might come really quickly. On the other hand… well, I need to get the next part exactly right. We'll see!

In the meantime, please enjoy part 7!

————

The White Knight Cometh – Part 7

Over the next week Amber didn't grow or change at all. A tiny part of her was disappointed, but most of her brain was focusing on the end of year exams. Amber had suffered a panic attack during last year's exams and was determined not to have another. She had planned for lots of revision time over the exam period and was quietly confident that the work she had put in throughout the year would pay off.

During the exams, she had sworn off sex with Devon. The young man understood completely, and had volunteered to take over her chores around the flat; in return, Amber promised him a day he wouldn't soon forget once she finished. At the same time, Amber cut her social commitments right back. Most of her friends were having exams too, so it wasn't as much of a wrench as it might have been. Sarah had understood and wished her daughter well.

The police had not got back in touch about Amber's heroics in the sports store. As per her request, they had also kept the story from the local papers. As Devon had said when he first heard the story, the best sort of hero is the one who doesn't ask to be rewarded.

By cycling everywhere, Amber had managed to save up enough money to buy herself a new pair of jeans, a lovely light blue colour with a cartoon flower printed on each of the back pockets. To accommodate her newly enlarged thighs and butt, she had had to buy a pair with a forty inch waist. At waist level, they needed tightening with a belt. At the level of her bum, they needed no tightening, as her shapely, firm, well-rounded arse filled the seat of the jeans out nicely. Devon certainly approved. There was a little bit of give around thigh level, which Amber needed for cycling.

In fact, nearly everyone approved. Amber had had to explain her changed physique to everyone she knew. A lot more strangers than usual were staring at her body too. Amber felt a bit naughty when she spotted men's eyes widening as she passed, and even naughtier when it was a woman's eyes bulging. She told her friends the same lie that had worked on her mother: she was using Devon's weights to build up her body. Privately, Amber was amazed that it kept on working – she had put on more muscle than she would ever need.

On the morning of her Clinical Skills exam, Amber decided to wear her Supergirl T-shirt again, pairing it up with the new blue jeans. She slipped the shirt over her head just after she got up at seven o'clock. The exam was at nine. Amber used her time wisely to look over her notes one last time – down to just two sides – during a healthy breakfast of brown bread toast and a banana. This was to be the third of Amber's four exams. Medical Ethics and Pre-Natal Care had gone well; Clinical Skills and Primary Care remained. Primary Care was two days away but, like football players, Amber was taking it "one game at a time".

As usual, Amber had prepared thoroughly the previous night, so she set out for the university's main building in relative calm. In order to prevent herself from feeling useless after the exam, Amber had packed all of her bras in her backpack, to be given to the charity shop she had got her T-shirt from. The cycle ride in was an absolute breeze. Amber shackled her machine to the one empty slot in the university bike rack and strode confidently to her exam room, fifteen minutes early as per instructions.

The student found her seat and set up her equipment: five pens (just in case some of them stopped working), a pencil, a ruler and a rubber. Amber sat expectantly, tapping her foot gently on the wooden floor, trying to get herself into the zone. The exam papers were laid on everyone's desks, followed by the answer booklets. Amber wrote the necessary information on the front of her answer sheet and signed it. A dreary looking man in a grey shirt and beige corduroy trousers inspected Amber's student card, slyly glancing at her breasts every so often. He moved away once he'd glimpsed the young woman's full biceps, sneering in distaste. Then the dreaded words rang out from the front of the room.

"You have two and a half hours. You may begin."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Two hours later, Amber was still writing. The paper comprised five compulsory questions: according to her own time budgeting, Amber was right on schedule as she started the fifth question. The student dared not think about how well the previous four questions had gone – the time for mulling over that sort of thing was after the exam. For the past twenty minutes, though, her jeans had been feeling tight around her bum and thighs.

"You may not now leave the exam room," a voice far away at the front of the room announced.

Just as she wrote the number 5 in the margin and was reading the question, Amber heard the awful sound of fabric tearing pierce the sweaty silence of the room. Chancing a look down, her worst fears were confirmed: yet again she was ripping through a pair of jeans.

"No!" she thought. "These are my new ones." Then she shook her head. "Got to concentrate," she urged herself. Amber re-read the question, got a handle on how she wanted to answer it, and began to write in her answer booklet.

About ten minutes later Amber's intense writing was disturbed by more tearing. The young woman's eyes widened as she felt fresh air on her thighs. Chancing another look under the desk, Amber saw that her jeans had again split their seams, tearing twin holes about two inches long mid-thigh. The muscles popping through were bigger than before. Amber shut her eyes and bit her lip. Reasoning that there was nothing she could feasibly do, the growing girl reboarded her train of thought and got back to answering the question.

This fifth question required a shorter answer than the others, so Amber was not concerned when she put her pen down a little later. She turned her mind to how to get out of the exam room without people noticing she had torn her jeans open.

"My new pair, too!" she cursed inwardly. "I'm just going to have to wait until everyone else has left."

And that was what she did. When the invigilators called time, Amber felt her jeans rip apart more; under the table her monstrous thighs had made the holes just over three inches long and she could feel her calves straining the fabric further down. The young woman waited until her coursemates had cleared out. Then she gingerly got to her feet, grabbed her stuff and made a very quick exit. Heading for the toilets, Amber turned her thoughts as to why she was growing again.

"I started growing about a week ago," she mused, "over two days. Then a week of nothing. Now I'm growing again. Why?"

Unable to make any connection, Amber stepped into a stall and drew the bolt. She quickly stripped to her navy blue panties, arranging her clothes carefully on top of her backpack. Once again, her whole body had changed. Her calves had gotten so meaty that when the student tried to put her hands around one of them, they fell well short of meeting. There was no hope of circling her thighs with her hands. Even with the brawny muscles relaxed, it was hard to make a dent in her quads.

Each of her abs had got slightly more defined, pushing out further and feeling harder. A network of veins had begun to sprout on her lower abs, peering out over the top of her panties. Amber's navel was slowly being squeezed shut by the expansion of her stomach muscles. Her breasts had joined in the general growth too: they'd gained just under half a cup size and her areolae had spread another half-inch total. The breastflesh was totally smooth, except for her hardened nipples. Thanks to her burgeoning pecs, they started to point slightly upwards as opposed to dead ahead.

As she felt round the back, Amber upgraded her arse from "killer" to "traffic-stopping", and with good reason. Her glutes had rounded out with more lovely, peachy muscle. Much like her boobs, Amber's new butt was totally blemish-free. Biting her lip, Amber tried something she'd seen a couple of days ago in a bodybuilding magazine: she clenched her fist and lifted her right arm up to make a right angle. A beautiful, beefy bicep popped up. Amber stroked the muscle, not really believing it was now part of her body. The muscle felt as solid as steel but as smooth as marble.

"Wow," she breathed.

"It's called an orgasm," someone drawled from a few stalls over. "We've all had one." Amber giggled and slipped her shirt back on.

Then she picked up her tattered jeans.

"Easy come, easy go," she thought as she tore the jeans off at mid-thigh, making another pair of cut-off denim shorts to end the day in.

Fully dressed once more, Amber walked out of the cubicle and returned to her bicycle, smiling as her bustier, fitter body garnered more wide-eyed stares. Setting up to ride to the charity shop took a couple of minutes as one of her tires had deflated somewhat, but soon enough the student was away, pumping on the pedals towards the town centre. Each stroke was ridiculously easy, even more so than in the morning. Just to test her changing body, Amber switched her bike into a stupidly hard gear to go to the shops. It was still easy.

"I could win the Tour de France if I carry on growing," she mused, smiling. "That, or Miss World."

Mercifully the new shorts were holding up nicely. During quiet moments Amber snatched glances at her powerful quads working the pedals. Each of her leg muscles worked in perfect harmony, moving up and down like a piston. Gazing along her comparatively static arms, Amber counted the straining veins feeding the grip of her hands.

The journey was over all too soon for Amber. She had a mad desire to carry on cycling, just to see how far she got before tiring, but dutifully the young woman stopped. She secured her bike to a railing next to a car park and walked over to the charity shop. The door tinkled open and Amber walked in. The same old woman that had sold her the T-shirt she was currently wearing was manning the till. Instead of the beautiful plumpish young woman from a week ago, she saw an incredibly sexy young woman covered in bulging muscles, like a fitness competitor who'd decided a month ago to go into professional female bodybuilding.

Amber smiled in the delight of recognition and headed over to her. The woman was wearing a green and white checked sleeveless dress. Her grey hair was tied into a bun. Amber noted that her skin was nicely tanned and began to wonder if she'd been on holiday. Amber's own skin was tanning up nicely, mostly because she had had to wear skimpy clothes for the past week.

"Hello!" she said enthusiastically. The old woman smiled indulgently.

"Hello," she replied. "What brings you back here?" At this, Amber held her right index finger in the air, like a man in a silent movie about to show a friend a good trick.

Amber set her backpack on the counter, opened it and fished around inside. Her questing fingers found their target. The young woman set a plastic bag stuffed full of bras onto the counter facing the old woman. Then she zipped up her backpack and slung it over a shoulder.

"What do we have here?" the old woman asked, opening the bag.

"My old bras," Amber said airily. "I've had a recent growth spurt and they don't fit me anymore."

"Hmmm!" said the old woman, impressed. "What size are they?"

"36DD," Amber said in a stage whisper.

"Excellent! I'm sure we can find good homes for these," the old woman smiled, closing the bag and put it under the counter. "And how are you, my dear?" Amber smiled widely at the question.

"I'm very well, thank you!" she replied. "Ever since I got this T-shirt, life has been good to me." She paused, frowning briefly. "Ever since I…" An idea slammed into Amber's brain like a runaway train.

"It's this T-shirt, isn't it," she said quietly, more a statement than a question. The old woman nodded ever so slightly.

"Yes, it is," she replied.

— To Be Continued —

[Max]

😀 Finally!!! 😀 And then people say that blondes are dumb. LOL  ;D

Great new chapter Fonk. I'm glad that Amber finally did the connection.

Amazing scene in the classroom my friend and certainly a very good cliffhanger you had set.

It seems that we will know more about this mysterious t-shirt very soon.

Max

[The_Pimp_NeonBlack]

A most excellent addition, dear Fonk.

Especially on the front of Amber's denial of the obivous (at least to us) factor involved in her growth and how she focuses herself on other matters.

Thank you for posting it and please continue the great work.

Peace
Neon

[Author]

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