[El_Roy_1999]

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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1298675

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:
“Maybe?”
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!

[El_Roy_1999]

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

Greedier
This story is a continuation of Greed (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/906809). 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.
“Coffee?”
“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.
“Whatever.”

“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.”
“Erin!”
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 …

[El_Roy_1999]

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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1186772

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.
Nothing.

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.
Aha!
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!

[El_Roy_1999]

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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1178425

[El_Roy_1999]

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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1169506

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?
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.
Smooth?
Holey?
Bumpy?
Opaque?
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.
“Fuck.”
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 …
308.
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.
308.
“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.
“Revenge!”
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.
Fuck.
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:
“Thanksgiving!”
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.
Enough.
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 …

[El_Roy_1999]

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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1165501

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.”
“Alright.”
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.
Bleargh.
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!

[El_Roy_1999]

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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1165311

[El_Roy_1999]

A nice and friendly story of mutual growth.

Challenges
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:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1159445

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?”
“Never!”
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 …”
“Yes?”
“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.”
“Bleargh.”
“Yup.”
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!

[El_Roy_1999]

Here’s a nice, relaxed story for all of you.

Past Her Prime

Eduviges has grown old, but she still tries to stay mobile and be a good neighbor. One day, a young man comes to her house, hungry and tired. She takes him in and feeds him, and as a thank you, he gives her a magic amulet. She laughs. Magic isn’t real, right?
This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, pregnancy, breast expansion and age regression. All characters are at least 18 years old.

Get it here!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1155602

The preview: 

The old woman in her wheelchair looked deeply cross. 
“Oh darn it!” She tried to reach around her chair to get her grabbing stick. The tremor was making things harder. She sighed. Should she really push the panic button? The young man, what was his name again … Alonso, yes, he was always very friendly and did everything to help her. He certainly wouldn’t mind assisting her with this, even if it wasn’t a real emergency. 
Still, Charlotte’s pride wouldn’t allow it. Not without trying to fix this first. She just had to be very careful. At her age, shoe couldn’t afford to get hurt. Every time she bumped into something, it took ages to get well again. And she certainly no longer had any time to waste. 
Bah. 
Charlotte tried again. She just wished she was mobile again. 
That’s when she heard a familiar voice. 
“Do you need help?”
It was Eduviges. She lived two houses down and if Charlotte felt old, then Eduviges was truly ancient. She had moved here maybe forty years ago, back when Charlotte was still young and sprig. Ah, good times … 
The even older woman walked up to her slowly, measuring her paces. She was tiny, her upper body having collapsed over time. Still, she was able to move on her own, even if she had to use a cane. She was wearing a simple dress with a flower pattern and had her long, rather wispy white hair tied into a big bun. Pulling it back helped a little with the lines of her face, but she still looked like someone’s great-grandmother. Which she probably was. 
Eduviges reached Charlotte in her chair and looked around. 
The seated woman sighed: 
“Please. I dropped the door keys. They must be around here somewhere …”
The ancient woman looked around. She had this Asian look, probably from some island. Charlotte had visited her a while ago, and she had seen a picture of her late husband. He had been a strapping, quite hunky gentleman, apparently. The picture showed him in his white navy uniform, his moustache perfectly trimmed. When Charlotte asked, Eduviges told her that she hated that thing, but … what had been his name? Harvey? Harold? Harford? Was that even a name? Anyway, he had insisted on it. She called it his “snot stopper”. She still missed him, though. That was obvious. 
With perfect slowness, Eduviges lowered herself down on her knees and looked around carefully. Charlotte couldn’t help admiring this flexibility. Well, if the medals and trophies in her home were real, then she had been a gymnast once. Maybe that was how she kept her mobility?
Eduviges carefully scanned the lawn. Charlotte said: 
“If it’s too difficult, I can call Alonso!”
“No, no, don’t worry, I … Oh! There they are.”
Carefully, the old woman reached for the keys between the wheels of Charlotte’s chair and then returned to her knees. She held up the keys to Charlotte, who took them from her with her good hand. The other one wasn’t shaking right now, but the last thing she wanted was to drop the keys again. 
Then, Eduviges slowly got back up, using the chair as a help. She groaned. When she finally stood again, Charlotte said: 
“Thank you so much! You are amazing!”
“It’s nothing. I need to stay fit!”
“Yes, yes, but … wow.”
Eduviges smiled, her teeth all white and porcelain. 
“Don’t mention it. Oh … By the way … I’m going to celebrate my 100th birthday next week. My family is going to do a little party for the neighbors and you are invited. I’ll send you the invitation in the mail too!”
“Thank you! Your 100th birthday? I can’t believe it!”
“Ah, I’m not sure about it either. We don’t have any real records left. But it should be close. And at my age, being a year off … It’s not going to change much, right?”
Charlotte giggled: 
“This is how you stay young, right?”
Eduviges nodded: 
“So you will be there?”
“I don’t have much else to do, so I’m going to say yes! Do you want me to bring anything?”
“Here we are, talking like teenagers: Bring your own beer, and so on … No, you don’t have to. My nieces and grandnieces will take care of everything. You’ll love their cooking!”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you again for the help with the keys.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I won’t. Goodbye, and see you soon, birthday girl!”
Eduviges chuckled and said goodbye too, walking back down to the road. She still had her steps to walk!

A few days later, Eduviges leaned back on her couch. The last guests and family had left in the morning, and now, she welcomed the sudden quiet. It had been great fun and the company and the food had been wonderful, but having a bit of quiet wasn’t bad either. Also, there were still boxes upon boxes of food left. She’d have to find a way to get rid of those without wasting them. 
Maybe she’d donate them to the foodbank? They would have to get the boxes, though. It was just too much for her to carry. 
She sighed. Reaching old age was good, being alive was wonderful, but being old … She chuckled to herself. It wasn’t the best use of her time!
Eduviges had had her hair styled for the occasion, and it had looked beautiful. The hairdresser had colored it in a certain way that got rid of that yellowish white-grey, and now it was just fluffy and white. She had preferred when it still had been jet-black, but this was fine too. 
Just then, someone rang the doorbell. 
With a groan and slow, careful movements, she got up and walked to the door. She checked the spyhole. A young man was outside, looking a little tired. Just as she asked what he wanted, his face perked up and he smiled. He was charming in a way. 
“Yes?”
“Hello! My name is Thomas Garcia, and I sell magic amulets.”
“Magic amulets?” Eduviges was a little confused by the announcement. How could that even work? Who would buy amulets?
“Yes, ma’am. They are handcrafted and enchanted with ancient and traditional spells of the Caribbean, and they are also very beautiful …”
His spiel was interrupted by a loud rumble of his stomach. 
Eduviges opened the door: 
“Young man, are you hungry?”
He blushed. 
“Uh … No, I’m fine … I …”
The old woman peeked at him. The collar of his shirt was frayed, the suit was a little crumpled and there were the tell-tale signs of his shoes being worn out. 
She sighed: 
“Come on in. I have plenty of left-overs. You’ll like them.”
“But … I don’t want to impose …”
“You’re not. Have a seat, I’ll warm up the food for you.”

A little later, Thomas was sitting in her kitchen, digging into the food she had set in front of him. She had taken his suit jacket and ironed it, mending a few little bits with the practiced fingers of ninety years. Despite the stiffness in her hands, she still managed to fix this. 
Thomas was embarrassed by all this and just said: 
“I’m sorry I am causing all this work …”
“You’re not. I was bored, and I can use the company.”
“But … Well, if people had bought more amulets …”
She shook her head. 
“Leave the amulets. This is a good catholic home.”
“No! They work. Besides, they are blessed by the Virgin and by Saint Anthony!” He held one amulet out to her. “Also, this here is the strongest one I have to offer.” He lowered his voice: “It will make your wishes come true …”
She frowned. Being a wandering salesman was one thing, being a blasphemer … 
Looking at the amulet, she had to admit that it was beautiful. It had a certain weight to it, and it was embossed with a picture of the Saints Anthony and Sebastian, as well as the Virgin Mary. The medallion was made of some gold-like material, and the figures had been painted to look somewhat lifelike. There was a faint inscription around it which Eduviges couldn’t make out. 
She said: 
“Alright, I would buy it … How much is it?”
“Oh, I can’t take money for it now, after all you did for me. Please … take it as a token of my gratitude!”
Eduviges frowned. She couldn’t take that thing, could she? She really didn’t want this … His expression made it hard for her to refuse. 
“Alright, I’ll take it. Thank you. But please, take some more boxes of food with you. I think you can use them.”
He thanked her profusely and vowed to come visiting the next time he was around. 
As he left, Eduviges wondered what that was all about. The amulet was nice, though. She put it on carefully. It rested on her aged chest, feeling a little warm. 
Later that evening, as Eduviges did her evening calisthenics, she couldn’t help sighing. The young man had been fine. A strange fellow, yes, but he had been quite friendly. She wondered for a moment if this was all part of some con. There were stories circulating in the neighborhood about “nephews” and “nieces” spontaneously calling or showing up and asking for cash. She didn’t think this was the kind of person to do something like this. 
Then again, wouldn’t it be logical for some crook to act like an upstanding citizen? 
Her thoughts started swirling. Nah. This one was probably alright. A little naïve, maybe, if he thought he could make a living selling baubles, but who was she to judge him. 
She groaned. The exercises were getting harder every day, and this was despite the fact that she had reduced their intensity so many times already! When she thought of the time when she could do the splits and put her feet behind her head without trouble, she felt a little sad. Now, she was still able to move somewhat skillfully, but the easiness had left her so long ago …
Having a young man in the house had felt nice, though. 
Suddenly, she missed Harry. He had been a dream. It felt so long ago suddenly. She sighed again. Foolishness. At her age, what could she hope for? 
In a way, she would have loved to have a son. Someone to remind her of Harry. Of course, he would have been an old man by now too. 
“Eduviges, you have to stop. You are a century old. You can’t go around dreaming of young men. No. Besides, having an eighty-year-old son you’d have to care for … Nah. But being young and strong again … now that would be wonderful.”
She got up carefully, feeling her ancient bones grind and her muscles crackle. It was time for bed. Maybe sleep would dispel all those sad thoughts …

Eduviges awoke late the next day. The sun was shimmering through the blinds and the morning cool was already dissipating. She pushed the blanket away and carefully sat up. It was somewhat easy. That was a good sign. The dreams she had had were slowly fading. She could only barely remember whisps. Had she dreamt of being back home on the islands? No. Or maybe yes? As she tried to recall what had happened, her memories were already gone. She shook her head. 
That’s when she realized she had slept through the entire night. This hadn’t happened in decades. Without wanting to go into further details, her age forced her to get out of bed several times a night. This time, though, everything was dry and under control. She smiled. Now this was an excellent surprise! 
She still had to go and take care of things quickly now!
A little later, she was in her kitchen, drinking her morning coffee. Everything had been incredibly easy this morning. Putting on her socks, using the shower, reaching for the coffee box, it felt as if she had been walking on air. Now that she was ready, she started her morning routine. Normally, this was more difficult than the evening one. Her bones tended to be a little stiff from the night, but today, everything was flowing. She could take up the various positions easily and she felt her body just naturally adapt to her mind’s wishes. 
As she finished her regular exercises, she suddenly grinned to herself and whispered: 
“Eduviges, maybe you should try something crazy …”
With an ironic smile, she carefully spread her legs and managed an angle she hadn’t reached in decades. She grinned happily. Wow. She had no idea she still had it in her!
As she got up, she rolled up the exercise mat and only then realized that she hadn’t packed it up in years. At some point, it had become too difficult to coordinate it and lift it and she had just left it there. And now, she lifted it up and put it in the place where it belonged!
Eduviges was ecstatic. Today was a great day! She had to use it to the fullest!
She decided that it was time to clean the basement. This was a now or never situation. If she managed to do this today, she would be proud for the rest of her lives probably. That place had been nagging her for decades, and maybe, just maybe, it would be doable. 
She took her towels and her broom and descended the stairs. When she was down there, she realized she had actually managed to go down there without clinging to the banister! She shook her head. This was completely crazy! She had never experienced anything like that. 
Eagerly, she went to work. 

Hours later, she emerged from the basement, hungry like a wolf.
As she heated up some of the leftovers, she beamed happily. She had somehow managed to do most of the work down there, and had cleared out a lot of the trash. Several bags were now waiting by the porch, each one carefully filled in dozens of little trips, and the place down there was spic and span. She had cleaned out a lot of things and had rearranged the space so it could be used again. Also, she found a box of her old gymnastics equipment and had carried it back upstairs. There were all kinds of juggling equipment in there, a medicine ball, which she had barely managed to get up, and some exercise bands and dumbbells. She was impressed that she had been able to move all those things easily all those years ago. 
Well, if things continued the way they were now, maybe she would be able to do this again!
As she sat down to eat, she touched the medallion around her neck. Was it shining brighter today? Probably just the sun. Yes. After all, it was a sunny early afternoon. 
Once she had finished eating and put away the dishes, she left the house on a little walk. It was a good way to make sure her digestion did its thing. 
She followed her usual path. It was a bit of a pet peeve. Harry had always insisted on constantly varying routes, to prevent muggers and thieves, “the enemy”, as he called them, from figuring out places to attack her, but she decided that being paranoid wasn’t worth the trouble. 
So, she walked down the sidewalk, passing her neighbors and smiling and waving. Charlotte was tending to her roses, struggling with the cutters, her arthritis acting up again. The old woman smiled bravely and waved back. Jake Carter was cleaning his car, his back bent, slowly sliding the rag over the glinting surface. He groaned as he turned to her and smiled. His teeth were a little too white, but every time she told him, he just said: “I paid for them, I want to show them off!” She had mumbled something about needing sunglasses when he talked, but he had just laughed. 
Betsy greeted her with a slow wave. She was just out leading her dog on a walk, and they were both struggling. The old woman groaned and said: 
“Hello, Eduviges. Did you change something? You look different today!”
“I do?”
“Yes, there’s something … I don’t know. Did you go to the hairdresser?”
“I did, but … you’ve seen me since.”
“Mhm. What could it be?”
Betsy looked her up and down, frowning at her through her trifocals. At last, she asked: 
“Where’s your cane?”
“My cane? Betsy, it’s in my hand …”
Only it wasn’t. 
“Where’s my cane?”
“Oh no, love, don’t tell me you’re finally getting dementia too? I mean, after all those years, you should be happy that it’s only now …”
“No, no. I … I just didn’t need it.”
Betsy smiled, but there was a faint bit of amusement to it. 
“You didn’t need it.”
“Well, I walked all the way here without it, so I didn’t need it, right?”
“Ah … You tell yourself that, love.”
They said goodbye after a bit of chatting since the dog was now getting impatient despite its age, but for Eduviges, the situation was quite confusing. What was going on?

A month later, Thomas was back in the neighborhood. Business had picked up lately with all the tourists being around. He was still a bit frustrated that selling actually working magic amulets was so difficult. Obviously, the fakes were making his job more difficult, and what did he expect?
It was depressing that this magic was working on most people, but not on him. Sometimes, he felt a bit like one of these guys selling “get rich quick”-books. Those also had to deal with the age-old question of “why aren’t you, then?”. 
Still, he could make ends meet, and if people got a little extra to their fashionable talisman, who was going to complain?
Whoa!
That woman almost ran into him!
Thomas had been so lost in thoughts that he hadn’t seen her coming, but she had elegantly dodged him with a spin and a little pirouette. She hadn’t even touched him, but now, she stopped and turned around, apologizing: 
“Sorry. I thought you would see me … Did I hit you? Oh!”
She smiled. Apparently, she recognized him. Now Thomas gave her a good look. Then his jaw dropped. 
“Eduviges?”
It was her, wasn’t she? She had certainly changed. Her body was now ramrod straight, lightly muscled and tight. There was no flab on her, her skin was aged, but didn’t hang or sag. Also, she was wearing tight training pants and a tank top and exercise jacket combo, as well as a headband. Both her arms were loaded with robust shopping bags and she was smiling at him with surprisingly natural teeth. They weren’t as absurdly white as the fake ones most old people wore. Her hair was a dash of grey too, the white having left just one big, dashing strand in the middle. She was looking almost youthful despite being obviously very old. Somehow, her energy radiated through her body. 
“Thomas, right? How are you?”
“No, how are you? How … how did that happen? You look … incredible!”
“I feel incredible too! This is … It must be your amulet!”
He grinned: 
“I did tell you, right?”
She laughed: 
“Yes, you did. I didn’t believe you, but here I am. So, thank you. This is a wonderful gift!”
He noticed she was still jogging in place. 
“What’s with the bags?”
“Oh, I decided to use my energy to shop for people in the neighborhood. Some of them are really not in a good shape. I bring them their stuff, and then, I try to get them to train a bit with me. Of course, I only do really light stuff. No one is getting hurt!”
“Wow! That’s nice. Do you mind if I accompany you?”
She nodded: 
“Sure, just keep up!”
With these words, she took off. Thomas followed her, and he did find it a little hard. She was shorter than him, so he could use the length of his strides to his advantage, but the way he was dressed wasn’t ideal for running around in the heat. Also, his briefcase was in the way. He could get a good look of Eduviges back, and he could only admire the ease with which she ran along, despite being loaded with all those bags. 
Eventually, all the bags were distributed and Eduviges asked: 
“What do you think? Do you want to join me for lunch? I have prepared some healthy food.”
A rather tired and sweaty Thomas nodded, stopping to take a deep breath and waiting for his head to stop swimming. 
“Please … But mostly … something to drink. Please!”
“Of course. Just come in.” 
She led him inside and asked: 
“Would you want to take a shower?”
He blushed: 
“If it’s not too much trouble …”
“Not at all. Just don’t use up the whole warm water …”
“Of course.”
“I’ll put out some of Harry’s old clothes for you. They will be a little baggy, but they’ll be better then yours. They’re soaked!”
“Thank you. I … wow.”
“Don’t worry.”
A little later, they sat in the kitchen and Thomas couldn’t help noticing that Eduviges was gorging herself on the food. She understood his looks and said: 
“I don’t know where that came from, honestly. I used to eat like a bird, but lately, I’ve been hungry all the time.”
“Don’t worry. I was just surprised …”
“It’s fine. I mean, this transformation … It can’t be natural, right? It has to be the amulet. Maybe getting fit again is one thing, getting my skin tone back, okay. But my teeth growing back? No way this is normal, right?”
“Your teeth grew back? I can’t believe it!”
She smiled at him, showing him two nice and clean rows. 
“There. They feel amazing. Because I don’t feel them. Perfect!”
Thomas was a bit reluctant. Sure, he knew that the amulets were powerful, but should he actually tell her how powerful this one was?
The weirdest part about all this was that he was starting to find her attractive. She had been charming before, and her willingness to help her neighbors made it clear she was a good person, but now, she had become younger somehow, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with this …

 

[El_Roy_1999]

For all those who enjoyed Man of the House, here’s the sequel!

Master of the House
Jake’s mother Taylor has transformed herself into an alpha male. Now, she is reaching for the stars, becoming even more powerful and manly. For Jake, this has unsettling consequences …
This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, futa and gender-blending. All characters are at least 18 years old.

Get it here: 
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1153272

Here’s the preview: 

Jake looked at his reflection. He had just finished shaving his cheeks and neck, which had invariably led to him cutting himself on that particularly annoying nub that had formed under his skin at some point. He found a tissue and dabbed at the bleeding spot, cursing at his own clumsiness. At least, he had had the mind of not already putting on his shirt first. The idea of getting blood on the collar made him groan. The tissue stuck to his skin now, developing a red spot where the blood had soaked it. He looked back up at the mirror. 
“Fuck, Jake. You look like shit.”
He ran his hand through his thinning hair. Fuck. If he didn’t arrange it the right way, the lines of scalp were getting pretty obvious. He pulled the tissue away and it started bleeding again. With a groan of frustration, he stuck it back on. His phone beeped. 
Shit. 
He had to go. 
As he slipped his shirt on, careful not to let any blood run from the tissue, he stopped and stared at his growing belly. He was so out of shape, it was a shame. When did it start to slip?
He had finished college, had found a job at Ranson & Barr, a solid, if boring company that sold tractor accessories all over the country. After a short period on sales during which he had the vague idea that he was getting results, he had been promoted, and was now in charge of two dozen guys which did the job he had liked to do. 
Meanwhile, it was his duty now to annoy them, make their lives complicated and compile reports. So many reports. It was a strange kind of hell. On the one hand, he earned good money in his position, nothing crazy, but still so much that quitting that job in his mid-forties was a bad plan. On the other hand, the job was an absolute dead end, he found it frustrating and his “underlings” despised him. The higher-ups had made it clear that further promotions were out of the question, simply because the next step up was reserved for the owning families and their friends, and if there was one thing Jake was bad at, it was making friends. 
He wasn’t completely unlikeable, but … his social life was deeply clumsy. 
Maybe one could call him boring? 
Still, things were frustrating. 
He grabbed his company tie, flipped up his collar and tied it around his neck, grinning darkly at its noose-look. 
As he did that, the tissue came loose. 
The bleeding had stopped, everything was fine … except the drops of blood on the tissue hadn’t dried completely yet, and he found himself with a streak of red on his collar. 
He howled in frustration. 
Why did this shit always happen to him?

Ten minutes later, a very sweaty Jake in a new shirt ran to his car, got in and started it. As he drove down the road, he deliberately averted his eyes so he wouldn’t risk seeing … Taylor. 
His mother. 
Or whatever she had become now. 
She lived close-by in this rather fancy neighborhood and he would occasionally see her as she jogged by or drove around in her sportscar. Or she would just be on a billboard. Or on TV. Or on the radio. Or …
It was a constant pain in Jake’s life to see her … no … him everywhere. It was really hard to avoid Taylor. His mother was now in her sixties, and she was incredible. Through constant and hard training, she had built a massive physique that had matured perfectly. She looked enormous, with a massive muscle-chest, shoulders like basketballs and a neck like a tree trunk. At the same time, she had made sure she looked amazing, and seriously, Taylor looked younger and more intense than Jake. She had this massive square jaw now, a perfectly shaved full beard, and elegantly styled, yet vaguely wild hair. Of course, there were no bald spots or anything. 
Taylor was a frequent guest on talk shows and was often invited to important meetings. It was hard to miss her. She would show up in a bespoke suit, would take off the jacket and fold it neatly, then roll up her sleeves and show off her enormous muscle-packed arms and answer any questions with a deep and confident voice. The audience would hang at her lips and everything she said was instant quotable wisdom!
The self-help books for men alone were making her wealthy, but the gyms, the health food, the potency help and the product endorsements made her rich. 
Winning the Mister Olympia five times in a row before deciding that it just wasn’t a challenge anymore was just peak Taylor. Of course, she would keep showing up as a guest poser and still outdo the actual competitors, but it would all be “in good fun”. The expressions on the other athletes’ faces was … priceless. 
In a way, Taylor was the chadest of gigachads. She had singlehandedly redefined what it meant to be a man. Strong, elegant, charming, sensual, always respectful, with a vaguely ironic sense of humor … Every man wanted to be … him. Or at least some aspect of him. 
Of course, being Jake was a disappointment. 
Taylor would keep him around at first, at least as long as Jake tolerated it. He would hang out with her at the pool parties, at the conferences and at the big events. Taylor constantly tried to give Jake some kind of spot in the limelight. Of course, Taylor would not introduce him as her son, but would go for a vague “little brother – nephew” thing. The sheer energy his mother radiated was enough to make Jake moderately popular, but it was all just reflecting the light of her sun, with him as some kind of weak-ass moon. 
And then, there were the pep talks. 
Even thinking about them now made Jake wince. It was just excruciating. She would do her best to get him to work out, to upgrade his wardrobe, to get a better haircut, and lately, a hair transplant. She offered to pay for everything, no problem, he just had to say yes and work for it, and she would carry him along to the top. 
Yeah, right. 
Instead, Jake tried to reach his dad, who had disappeared from his life all those years ago. That was another disappointment. It turned out that he had produced three more half-siblings for Jake with as many women, which he mostly ignored. The whole family situation was dire and in a way, he just wanted to be rid of all of them. 
Which was the lone bright spot in his dreary life. 
Amy. 
He reached into the pocket of his jacket. The ring was there. He had checked five times already. After work, he would go and pick her up at her office downtown, he’d have a nice dinner with her, and then, he’d pop the question!
He was nervous again, but in a good way. 
With a sigh, he parked the car and got out. Just nine hours of tedium, and then … the moment of truth.

He got out of the office a bit later than planned, which meant he would have to run. He stormed downstairs, jumped into the car and drove swiftly, yet within the speed limits. Taylor would probably just put the pedal to the metal and raced there. In a high-powered sports car, no less. Or a racing motorbike. 
Jake reached Amy’s office and got out of the car. He rang and was buzzed in, went past her secretary and knocked on the door of her office a bit after opening it. 
She looked up: 
“Oh, Jake! It’s you. Hi! I was … I was just about to finish up and …”
She blushed. 
God, she was so cute … 
She was a little younger than him, a glorious redhead at 5’2”, with a nice, curvy body and some wonderful breasts. They were rather large and heavy, and he loved to play around with them. Amy was perfect … She had the brains and the beauty, and the money too … 
Jake had met her three years ago, and their friendship had quickly evolved into love. He adored her and Amy just loved spending time with him. She was also impressed by his dependable nature, his relaxed attitude to taking on household chores and his general lack of stupid machismo. Jake showed no problems with her earning good money and being in charge, and this relaxed her tremendously. 
He smiled: 
“Should I wait for a moment? I can …”
“No, no, come in and I’m sure I can finish this tomorrow.”
He took a deep breath. Okay. Here goes nothing …
He walked over to her, dropped on one knee in front of her and opened the little box. 
“Amy Jonas … Will you marry me?”
She looked at him with sparkling eyes and a big smile, blushing happily. 
“Of course I will, Jake! I love you! I’m …” She took a deep breath, overcome by emotion. “I’m so glad! Oh, yes! Yes!”
She leaned forward, then fell on her knees in front of him, then hugged him, the little box almost fell to the ground spilling the ring, but he embraced her too, they giggled, they kissed and it was sealed. 

A little while later, though, some small problems emerged. The first thing, finding a location, could be solved rather quickly. That was good. Other things, like figuring out who was going to marry them, were sorted out rather quickly. Things were looking up already. 
But then, Amy brought up a big problem. 
She wanted a major party, a big wedding with all her family. They were very close and Jake liked them a lot. That was fine. The issue was that Amy wanted him to have some people on his side of the aisle too. That was difficult. 
After all, Jake only had two people in his family, and one was Taylor. He had some distant cousins, but he hadn’t spoken to them in decades and it was doubtful they’d come. Besides, where was the point in inviting total strangers? If he wanted that, he could just pick some randos on the street and get them to the party. 
As far as Amy knew, Jake had an estranged relationship with his mother and mostly ignored his father, who had walked out on him when he was young. None were good matches for a happy wedding. Then again, just having only her family over was wrong and so, she insisted. 
Jake could never deny her anything, let alone having the dream wedding she wanted. So, of course, he said yes. They would meet Taylor and ask whether she was available to be there, and while she was at it, be his best man. That last tidbit was something Jake kept from Amy for now. Still, who was he going to ask anyway? His deadbeat dad? Some guy from work? His boss? Seriously? 
It probably would be macho man Taylor. 
Jake felt something clench deep inside. 

“Okay, Amy, about my family …”
She smiled at him. Maybe she was nervous and having second thoughts right now. Jake couldn’t really tell. He had asked her to sit with him and told her he would explain everything. Now he had to. This was the moment of truth. 
“Have you decided to invite your parents?”
“I think you should meet my mother first. Then you can see if you really want that.”
She seemed a bit spooked by his way of putting this. 
“What do you mean? Is there something wrong with her?”
“Weeeell … You see, my mother is … wait. Show, don’t tell.”
He pulled out his phone and opened Taylor’s social media. He handed her the phone. Amy looked at it, flipping through the pictures. 
“Where is she? There’s just this big dude. You know, what’s his name …”
“Taylor. My mother.”
“What?” She paled. Then she asked again. “What?”
It took Jake some time, and quite a few “whats?” to explain the whole mess. Amy just couldn’t believe it. It was just too bizarre and incomprehensible for her. After an hour or so, she finally managed to vaguely accept it. 
“Okay. Okay-okay-okay. So this is your mom, but … she’s kinda not?”
“She’s obviously the one who brought me into this world and sees herself as my … creator, but also as a guy. And she’s got the muscles to show, right?”
His fiancée nodded. 
“Mhm. This is a lot, you know?”
“I know. Which is why I didn’t bring it up much.” He was a bit crestfallen. “So, what do we do now? Do you still want this?”
Amy considered the situation and then said: 
“Why not? If she … he? is a nice person, why not?”
 

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