[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?”
 

[El_Roy_1999]

This story is a sequel to The Changing Mood (https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1112141).

The Changing Mood – Beyond
After her transformation and her brother’s defeat, Helen is settling in her new role. Her relationship with his ex is improving quickly, but then, things get more intense.

This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, futa, incest and gender-blending. All characters are at least 18 years old.

Get it here: 
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1148926

And here is your preview: 

The last few weeks had been tough on everybody. Helen was at the center of the whole typhoon that swept through her family, and somehow managed to keep her calm while everything around her was torn apart.

First, there were her parents.

They started at:

“What in the world gave you the idea to just take some random drugs from the fridge?

Then her mother escalated to:

“I can’t believe you kept using them! I always thought you were the intelligent one!”

This prompted Nick to protest weakly with a “Hey!”, but her mother shut him down: “We all know the way it is. But still!”

Then her dad went all in, howling:

“What the hell did you do to yourself? Why? Why would you want to be like … this?”

When she didn’t answer immediately, her mother surprisingly came to her rescue:

“Well, you could have locked up your highly illegal and easy to misuse drugs instead of just letting them lie around in the fridge!”

Which led to the tried and tested:

“They weren’t in THE fridge! They were in MY fridge!”

To which followed:

“YOUR fridge? I don’t know why Mister Midlife Crisis needs his own fridge in his man-cave! Ah, no! I know! Because he has the need to poison our daughter!”

By then, Helen knew she was safe.

“Poison? She did that to herself! This isn’t my fault! Maybe you shouldn’t have pampered Nick like that? But here you are, he’s always been your wonderful little son. It’s the way they say: Moms make Machos!”

“Nobody says that! And besides, what should I do? He’s so helpless and naïve!”

“Hey!”

Helen just leaned back as the old people had their old people moment. She casually started rubbing her cock, enjoying the tingling feeling of a coming erection. Aah … This was incredible. She just loved it. She scratched her mighty chest and watched casually as they all shouted at each other.

Deep inside, she already knew how it would end.

They would accept it. They always accepted whatever she did. In the end, they would even be proud of her. Simply because Nick would invariably do something stupid, which would then make her look bright in contrast.

She sighed deeply as her cock started to rise and tent her underpants.

It was her dad’s turn:

“At least, I keep my drugs in my fridge in the basement! I don’t hide them stupidly in the bedroom like Nick!”

And her mom:

“What? Nick? You also have drugs in your bedroom?”

“Uh, Mom, they’re my … supplements?”

“What!”

And there it was. Helen casually stood up as her mother dragged Nick after her, howling and clamoring all the way upstairs. The musclegirl adjusted her pants and stretched her massive torso, then grinned at her father. The old man seemed quite intimidated by her display.

Then she said:

“Don’t worry, she’ll calm down soon.”

Her dad wasn’t sure of how to reply to this and just watched as Helen walked over to the toilet. She had to empty her balls stat!

So that was number one.

 

Number two was dealing with Nick. After a solid chewing out by his mother, he came over to join her in the garden. Helen was doing pull-ups on the bar she had recently installed there, casually hoisting up her heavily-muscled body and just enjoying its power. She was feeling horny again … Maybe she would ‘water the plants’ later on …

There was another thing: Ever since she had gained that wonderful cock, she just enjoyed pissing standing up. It was a bit of a statement for her, and it was a little gross too, but then again, if you got it, flaunt it.

Nick walked up to her and it was obvious he was intimidated by her power.

“Uh … Helen …”

“Yeah?”

She turned around on the bar, still hanging leisurely from it, her muscle-wrapped arms pumped from the effort.

“There’s … There’s the thing about what happened …”

“About when you sucked my dick before getting it rammed up your butt?”

He was a little shocked by her just mentioning this so casually, but he had to admit that he had mostly enjoyed it. He blushed.

“Yes …”

“That was great fun. I never thought my brother had it in him … Hah! Okay, this one was unintentional!”

She laughed and swung herself on the bar with one mighty pull. Once she sat up there she asked:

“So, is that it, or do you have anything else to say?”

He hesitated. At last, he managed to summon enough courage to speak:

“The thing is, I’m going to move out. I need my distance and with you … around … it’s just too hard, you see?”

Helen rolled down from the bar, suspending herself by the hollow of the knee. Upside down, she pulled herself up a bit with her ripped abs and grinned:

“Good plan!”

She gave him a thumbs up that was actually a thumbs down. Then she did a few suspended crunches.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“Should I? I mean, it’s a good idea!”

“I … I expected that you’d be sorry …”

“Sorry for what, Nick?”

“For taking Anastasia from me.”

“Why should I? It’s her free choice, isn’t it?”

She pulled herself back up, and dropped down, holding herself with just one hand. She pointed at the massive bulge in her pants.

“Listen, Nick, maybe you should have gotten yourself a girlfriend that isn’t such a cock-hungry slut? I mean, I’m sure there’s plenty of girls that would love having an average buff dude and be happy. But I can understand that she just wants an alpha.”

She could see that this one had stung. She dropped to the ground.

“Okay, sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel down. I love you, you’re my brother. And I just maybe overdid it, but it was the intensity of it all … And you could have been less annoying back when you were still Mister Buff!”

“I’m still Mister Buff!”

“Yeah, but now I’m Mistress Buffer!”

She guffawed and kissed him on the forehead.

“Don’t worry, everything will be great. I’ll even help you to carry your furniture!”

He leaned against her broad shoulder and sighed:

“Thank you …”

She patted his back and then accompanied him inside. He was a little pathetic, but he was her brother.

 

Which led to number three!

Helen had successfully claimed her father’s man-cave and there, she could really pump her muscles up. Since she loved a good show, she called Anastasia to come over, and the bimbo had immediately obliged, getting to Helen’s place as fast as her high-heels allowed.

She stepped down the stairs on her six-inchers, wearing a tiny pink miniskirt that was basically a broader belt that barely covered her round, pert little butt and her plump pussy. She had recently started getting fillers on her face to look even more plastic and bimboish, and Helen loved it. Anastasia’s tits were barely covered by a rather flimsy white top that was moments away from becoming transparent and also offered generous cleavage down to her bellybutton, which now also sported a nice little chain of cutesy bling.

The girl looked at Helen with the combined expression of a happy puppy and all the horny teenagers at the same time.

“Hi!”

Helen grinned. She was just doing chest flies, enjoying the burn the machine put on her muscles. She had just shot herself up with more of that stuff, and she could feel that her whole body was ready to go.

“Hrnk!” She grunted as she continued her set. “Good to have you here …”

Anastasia licked her lips when she saw Helen’s cock twitch in her sweatpants. The bimbo girl walked over to her lover, swinging her hips. She didn’t even hesitate. The moment she was in front of the machine, she dropped on her knees in one surprisingly elegant, fluid motion and even while Helen continued her pumping, she freed her cock from those pants and started caressing and worshipping it. She covered it in kisses, leaving lip-shaped spots on it, then attacked the cockhead with the ravenous appetite of a starved tiger.

Helen groaned as she felt Anastasia’s warm mouth on her shaft. It was as amazing as always. That girl just loved cock, and she adored Helen’s!

She continued her workout, while Anastasia’s tongue danced over her rod. By the time the set was finished, she was shaking with effort and horniness.

The girl licked her overinflated lips and gasped:

“Oooh, Helen, you’re sooo pumped … I just love your big, strong muscles! You’re sooo much bigger than Nick …”

These words really made Helen’s cock twitch some more. The idea that she surpassed her idiot brother in every way … yeah, it did turn her on.

She stroked her fat cock and smiled:

“Yeah, it’s pretty huge … I love how I’m the alpha in this family now.”

“In my family too … You’re probably one of the biggest dudes anyway!”

Before Helen could reply, Anastasia had pulled that tiny top sideways, flopping out her huge fake tits. Helen’s eyes flashed for a moment. This was an amazing sight! Apparently, the girl also had her nipples pierced.  Helen’s cock twitched:

“Wow … I like those!”

She grabbed the little bars with her strong fingers and gave them a little pull.

Anastasia sighed hornily:

“Be carefuuul … They’re still all fresh …”

“Damn, I love your fake tits, and those are just the icing on top!”

The bimbo girl giggled happily:

“Yeah, I asked the piercer, and he said it wouldn’t be any problem with me nursing any kids …”

Helen was a bit surprised by the mention, but the idea of knocking her girl up …

“Seriously?”

“Yeah! I totally wanna have your kids! Maybe not right now … but eventually, absolutely! I mean, you’re one amazing person and I love you, so … why not?”

Helen wasn’t sure what to make of this. She was still young, and she didn’t have a job that really paid for anything, so …

“Uh … Just talk to me before you get off the pill, right?”

“Sure!”

The bimbo girl came closer now and leaned forward to wrap those two big tits around Helen’s dick. Then she started rubbing her orbs up and down the other girl’s shaft. Helen grinned and then bit her lip. Now that was a sight … She sighed happily. Oh yesss …

Anastasia continued her worship of Helen’s cock, kissing it, licking it, letting her tongue dance along its tip, all the while rubbing her tits against it. Helen continued watching her, then decided it was time to get on with it.

She gently moved the girl off her lap, feeling a slight disappointment as the girl’s warm tits separated themselves from her shaft. Still, more was to come …

Helen directed Anastasia to the mat on the ground and the girl eagerly got on all fours, then set her face against the mat and spread her legs, her plump pussy wet and inviting. The bodybuilder girl got behind her, running her strong hands up Anastasia’s slim back. She forced her further down, then reached around, gripping the slightly squished fake tits.

“Yeah … This feels so amazing …”

Anastasia answered with a coo:

“Oh yesss … Put your cock deep into me, Helen …”

The musclegirl obliged and slapped the bimbo’s fake ass into shape, making it quiver.

“Damn, I love this body of yours … You’re so fake and so sexy!”

“Hey, I’m all real for you!”

“Yeah, and I love it.”

Helen took her big dick, still wet from Anastasia’s mouth, in her hand and slowly pushed it down the girl’s ass. Anastasia breathed in sharply.

“Oooh …”

She bent her back through as far as she could and Helen started sliding her cock in and out of the girl’s butthole. She reached around her and started rubbing the girl’s clit. Anastasia sighed, then started moaning happily as the big-cocked musclewoman pistonned her ass, slapping her muscle packed hips against the girl’s cheeks.

“Heeeleeeeen …”

The bimbo girl gasped for air, totally ecstatic about Helen’s treatment. The musclegirl grabbed those inflated buttcheeks and pounded her like a jackhammer, her muscles swelling from the effort. She could feel Anastasia’s internal muscles tighten around her rod, and it was divine …

“God, you’re such a wonderful screw, Anastasiaaaa …”

The girl under her just answered with short, happy breaths, losing her mind under the power of her uber-muscular girlfriend. Helen felt her balls spasm happily. It wasn’t long now! She leaned in on the girl, letting her heavily muscled body bear down on her. She was just on the verge of cumming when the girl produced a long, drawn-out squeal that just sent Helen over the edge. She felt the walls of Anastasia’s butthole shiver and tighten around her and it was as if she was getting milked at full power.

She came with her own roar, pumping her cum into the girl’s ass while pushing her along the mat, desperate to get even deeper into her.

At last, the tension subsided and she lay down next to her, letting Anastasia’s slim back rest against her own broad chest. Helen happily played with the girl’s big fake bimbo tits and just enjoyed how much that girl was willing to do just to keep her happy and horny.

Anastasia produced happy little moans as Helen’s cock eventually retreated out of the girl’s butt and rested all flaccid but thick against her hamstrings.

Helen chuckled:

“That was fun … I mean, I should probably fuck your pussy too, what with you needing to be all pumped up with my cum, but … wow … You really are amazing …”

“Takes one to know one, Helen …”

The bimbo took Helen’s arm and kissed her hand, then directed the other woman’s powerful arm to her crotch. Helen immediately obliged, playing with the girl’s clit.

“Next time you go to the piercer, you should get your clit done too … I’d like that!”

“For you, anything …”

“Nice!”

“There’s one thing, though …”

[El_Roy_1999]

Okay, everybody, I felt like publishing a full story! Here you are. It was inspired by thetropican, who is awesome, and I had a lot of fun writing it. 

If you enjoy the story and want to support me, you can buy it here: 
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1146743

Without further ado, here it is: 

The Diva

The doctor frowned.

“Madame, I am very sorry, but it was to be expected. At your age, a fall can be life-changing.”

The actress raised an eyebrow. At her age! Madonna! So this was how it felt! Years, no, decades on the silver screen, fame, fortune, adoration by her many admirers, and now, at last, she had become decrepit.

“But doctor, it isn’t broken! Isn’t there some therapy you can prescribe to me?”

The doctor ran his hand over Sonia Laurent’s hip again, testing its range of motion.

“Well, the thing is, osteoporosis has set in massively already, and I’m afraid that we cannot do much. Regular exercise with a physiotherapist, supplements to improve bone health … Unless you would be willing to join a study for an experimental treatment a colleague of mine has been developing …”

“Experimental?” The diva was a little taken aback by the suggestion. “Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

“Not at all. It has already gone through all the necessary tests, and this is the pre-rollout. One last round of tests to discover as many side-effects, good or bad, that haven’t been discovered yet. There would be a compensation, of course …”

“A compensation?” The diva laughed. “My dear Dottore, this is all very nice, but … please, donate the money to children’s cancer research or something. A Sonia Laurent doesn’t accept payment for things that are good for her!”

He smiled, nodded and said:

“Very well. Then I will enroll you in the study and we can hopefully start treatment in a week.”

 

A week later, the maid announced that the doctor had arrived. Sonia Laurent pushed herself up from her chair with her cane. She detested that thing, but it was a necessity now. She had at least managed to choose a stylish one, whose wood grain matched her golden-brown locks, but it was a sad reminder of her frailty.

She walked over to the villa’s entrée, careful to conceal the cane for the last steps and making it disappear behind her dark red robe with a simple swing of her hand. Now she stood straight and statuesque as she had always done. She smiled:

“Dottore! Welcome! I am so grateful you came here.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Madame …” He gave her a slight bow.

She accepted his hand graciously and then swept him to the salon as easily as ever. The thought of getting better soon made her feel hopeful and confident. While the maid served them coffee and the doctor admired the view of Lake Geneva, Sonia was quivering with anticipation.

At last, she couldn’t resist anymore:

“Did you bring it, doctor?”

He tore himself from the sight and nodded, then pulled a bottle of pills from his suitcase. He handed it to the diva.

“Here you are. Because this is all so experimental and new, there’s no fancy blister yet. The bottle will do, though. You are supposed to take ten pills every day, two in the morning, and then every three hours through the day. I recommend to setting an alarm or something, because this drug really needs to be taken precisely.”

The actress smiled benignly:

“Don’t worry, Dottore, it is my bones that are weak, not my mind.”

As if to demonstrate, she took out a reasonably modern smartphone, and with taps of her perfectly manicured nails, she set up the alarms. She gave him a proud smile. He nodded.

“You will have to report to me on the effects. Please be precise about them, I think it will help a lot of people.”

“Certainly, Dottore. I will keep a diary!”

“Thank you, Madame.”

“Will you stay for brunch, Dottore?”

“I’m sorry, I have further patients to attend to. Good luck, Madame, and hopefully, this drug will help you.”

She wanted to get up to accompany him to the door, but her hips rebelled, so she excused herself and had the maid take over.

The actress took the bottle and looked at it eagerly. This would help!

 

“Madame Laurent, I am not sure what you did, but I am impressed!”

Sonia looked at her Pilates instructor. The woman was terrifyingly fit, her body without an ounce of fat, and seemingly built of tightly wound wire. The first time she had met her, Sonia had wanted to feed her. She had even offered to prepare her own homemade ravioli for her, but the instructor had thanked her and said something about “carbs”. In a way, it was her loss, wasn’t it?

Still, right now, the young woman was astonished by her employer’s performance. After finishing an exercise routine that normally completely exhausted her, Sonia found herself wanting more.

“Thank you. I have changed some little things about my regular treatments, and I’m glad they work!”

“Seriously, Madame, you seem to have recovered ten years of fitness!”

Sonia blushed. Now this was praise she could enjoy!

“Maybe we could try something a little more intense next time?”

“I would be very glad. Let’s get you massaged, and in two days, I’ll bring you some exercises that just might challenge you!”

The old woman smiled. She hadn’t expected it, but maybe those drugs actually worked?

 

“Madame, I don’t know what happened, but I suggest you continue it!”

“Do you like the results, Dottore?”

“Absolutely! I wish all my patients had improvements like this! Look!”

He showed her a printout. There were so many small numbers. The actress adjusted her glasses and tried to read them. She shook her head. Somehow, her vision had once again deteriorated. She tried to move the paper around and squinted. No chance. Somehow, it got all difficult to read like that.

“Could you tell me, Dottore?”

“Yes, of course. I … This wasn’t courteous of me … See, these parameters tell me that your bone density has improved and your muscular strength has increased a bit. Also, your heart rate is better and your blood sugar has dropped.”

“So this is good?”

“It’s excellent!”

“Thank you!”

“It wasn’t me, Madame, it was your effort and discipline! Did you change anything else other than the medication?”

She smiled widely:

“Oh yes! So many things! I asked my therapist, and she set up a whole programme for me. I am now doing some exercises for my heart every day, it’s called cardio, obviously, and some light musculation. It feels very new, you know?”

“This is astonishing. I didn’t expect it to work in this way.” He seemed a little doubtful. “Madame, I must admit, the drug was only supposed to strengthen your bones, not to cause these changes.”

“Then write them down as an unexpected, but welcome side-effect! I can not thank you enough!”

He blushed. The diva had kept her charm in every way and he did feel drawn back to the days of his youth when he had adored her as all the other young men. He brushed his thinning hair from his forehead and smiled:

“I will. So, for now, we will just continue the therapy, is that right?”

“That would be marvelous, Dottore!”

She got up in one fluid movement. The doctor stared at this. That’s when he noticed.

“Madame, didn’t you use a cane?”

“Dottore, ‘used’ is the word. I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t need it anymore. It’s a miracle. I threw it away.”

The doctor couldn’t do anything else other than smile. In her exultation, she kissed his cheeks and bade him goodbye. He stayed behind, his face glowing and his breath still.

 

“Bisnonna, what happened to you? You look so young!”

“I do, Tesoro?” Sonia took her great-granddaughter on her lap and bounced her up and down. Lifting her was easy and the little girl giggled as she rode on her knees.

“Yes! You look almost like Nonna Roberta. Only she is not as strong as you!”

Her daughter-in-law frowned, but Sonia didn’t let this spoil her mood. Instead, she lifted the little girl high, her arms somehow strong enough to do this.

That’s when it happened.

The girl swung her little legs and kicked against Sonia’s glasses, sending them flying. Instantly, the girl’s mother, Francesca, stormed at her and panicked:

“Nonna! Are you alright?”

To her surprise, Sonia was fine. Sure, the little kick had stung a bit, but that was all. And she suddenly realized that she could see them all perfectly well without her glasses.

Better even. Somehow, that treatment must have fixed her eyes. Was that even possible?

Francesca brought her the glasses and the girl, Claudia, tried to put the glasses on her. She almost managed to poke one of the temples in her eye. Sonia took them from her, folded them and hung them in her cleavage.

“Don’t worry, Tesoro, I think I can see you just fine.”

She could see that the other women were a bit confused by this new development.

 

After a nice tennis match, always doubles, Sonia walked over to the country club’s terrace. Time for some coffee. The other couple was still recuperating after the terrible dishing-out she had served them, and her partner had disappeared into the shower to … shower? She had an idea what he was doing. Men!

For her, the game had been a pleasant pastime which had barely made her sweat. It was astonishing how nimble her limbs had become, how fast she could run and stop and how easy her eyes could follow the ball. It was all so simple!

Anyway, she strode to her usual table and sat down, enjoying the warm sun. She was wearing a large straw hat and a gorgeous white sleeveless dress she had recently bought to match her rejuvenated figure. It was very simply cut, but looked wonderful on her. The training had somehow recovered her entire body, tightening her skin and even filling out her breasts once more. She had no idea how that even worked, but once again, they were real and spectacular!

She was quite certain that they were bigger and fuller than ever before, but that didn’t inconvenience her in the slightest. She did wear a shawl over her shoulders and chest when she was in public, she had to dress her age, after all. But now that she was in private, she could just enjoy the sun on her cleavage and a cup of espresso from her favorite waiter.

Pierre did a double-take when she took off her sunglasses and smiled:

“The usual, Madame?”

“Please. And I think I will reward myself with a slice of cake. What would you recommend?”

“Well, we have an excellent …”

He was cut off by a commotion. Someone was running across the lawn, pursued by a group of security guards and a rather breathless gardener. The man stormed on, and she immediately spotted the telltale signs of the paparazzo. The camera, the soft shoes, the sunglasses …

One of the guards shouted a “Stop, fils de pute!” and one of them tried to tackle him. The young man, evaded this and to the spectators’ surprise, jumped on a garden shed, then vaulted the high walls of the country club.

He was gone.

The guards ran on to the entrance to maybe catch him outside, but the gardener gave up and limped back to the terrace. Sonia saw that the old man was completely exhausted. She patted the chair next to her and ordered another espresso and a tall glass of water for the poor man.

He thanked her profusely, and when he recognized her, he blushed, and looked at his hands instead. She smiled and said:

“Don’t worry. Thank you for trying to catch this … vampire. He certainly was no Tazio Secchiaroli.”

“I just spotted him as I was trimming the bushes. He must have snuck in over the wall.”

“After this jump, I believe it. Maybe he should earn his money as an acrobat!”

She laughed and the gardener smiled.

“I just hope he didn’t trouble the guests …”

“Bah! I doubt that any newspapers are still interested in old people like me …”

 

“Dannazione!” Sonia stared at the cover of her newspaper. She despised the yellow press and never bought their issues, but apparently, this picture was considered newsworthy enough to put it on the cover of a serious publication! The horrible creature had actually managed to take a picture of her just as she took off her sunglasses and … she had to admit, it was a good picture, and she was looking wonderful. The headline was bad, though: “The Immortal – Sonia Laurent is in the shape of her life!”

She rubbed her temples as her maid handed her the two pills and a glass of water. What foolishness would come from this?

Her phone rang a moment later. The maid went to pick up for her as she took the pills and washed them down.

“Madame, it’s Renato, your agent!”

“What? But why would he call?”

She got up and took the phone.

“Renato? How nice of you to call! It’s not my birthday, you know?”

“Sonia, Bellissima, I am not calling on courtesy, but on business!”

“On business? But Renato, Caro, I have retired. No more movies for me!”

“You know what they say, mai dire mai! I have an offer for you, and the producer wants to pay any price for you!”

“But … I haven’t acted in years. And my look … I don’t want to play any grandmothers any more …”

“Ragazza, have you looked in the mirror lately? Or in the newspapers for that matter? They all want you! And the man, let’s just put it this way: He is one who would make Dino de Laurentiis look sane!”

“Stop. Enough. What kind of movie are we talking here, Renato?”

 

“Diva! Divissima!”

Sonia was a little irritated by the man at her feet. This was the famous man whose work had relaunched a dozen careers out of nothing? This was the auteur that still manage to bring the masses to the theaters?

She smiled. As she had learned, in situations were you can’t do anything else, smile.

The man groveled at her feet. She could see his bald spot and his longish hair and wonder what might have possessed her to come here and meet him. It certainly wasn’t the money, although the producer had agreed to the frankly rather obscene sum Renato had demanded without even discussing. Truly, the ways of Hollywood were changing …

No, it was something else … Her transformation might have changed something about her perception of herself too. If she had, well, not exactly hidden from the public, she had tried to maintain her mystique and her legend. No one wanted to see a decrepit old woman that had once been Sonia Laurent!

As she was now, though … Well, this was a Sonia Laurent people would adore. This wouldn’t ruin her legend, it would expand it, make it even more fascinating, even immortal!

Maybe it was that …

“Signor Barese, are you alright?”

The man looked up to her like a child on prima communione and sighed:

“I am more than alright … I have never been better. To be in your presence …”

She felt flattered, she would admit it. But the man … He was also … annoying. His interest in her feet … She had met all sorts, but he was rather intense.

Well, maybe she had to handle it in an appropriate way. She breathed in deeply, her now fuller bust straining slightly against the dark green satin dress she had put on for the occasion, and said forcefully:

“Get up and talk to me.”

The man instantly complied, kneeling in front of her and then getting to his feet. He negligently rearranged his hair and then smiled slyly at her.

“Of course, Signora.”

His accent was atrocious, even with such a simple word. She kept smiling.

“I have skimmed the script you sent me, and I do not understand. What are you trying to achieve?”

Suddenly, the awkwardness disappeared from the man’s face and body. He was in his element.

“Signora, the film will be called ‘Lord of Radiance – Chronicles of the Empyrean War’. It will be an homage, no, a veneration of the classic sci-fi epics of the age! I have been dreaming of this film for ages and now, my producer has finally agreed! It will have it all. I have already found the perfect crew for the practical effects. I have secured a cache of original film stock I will use. I even managed to locate one of Kubrick’s original NASA lenses from Barry Lyndon! It is in marvelous shape and the director of photography is already getting used to it. It will be incredible! We will be shooting at Cinecittà, which you might find practical …”

She nodded slowly as the man’s enthusiasm almost swept her away. It was a bit hard to follow all those things. He was already talking about the score, about trying to figure out the correct composition of the music, the idea of hiring Giorgio Moroder, or even getting one of Morricone’s students to create a pastiche …

At last, she raised her hand like a schoolgirl, with maybe a hint of mockery.

“Signor Barese, this is all wonderful and I am excited for it, but … please … Explain it to me as you would a child. What is the point of the movie?”

“The film. It’s a film. I don’t do movies.”

“The film, then. What are you trying to say?”

He looked at her. The faint amusement, the annoyance, the mockery, the superiority …

“You are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

He grabbed his camera and took a picture of her.

“This will be it. You will see. It will be incredible.”

 

“You humans love the happy ending, the ‘… and they lived happily ever after’. I have studied you and your stories and they are your greatest delusion! Happiness … forever? It’s not even foolish, it’s a contradiction.”

Sonia towered over the boyish young man that was a quarter her age. He was quite short, and was probably about her size, but she was wearing those absurd heels and the bizarre golden armor was just making her look even taller with its giant helmet with its golden plumes and horns. It looked like a Jack Kirby-Thierry Mugler-collaboration, and it weighed a ton, though she could deal with it quite well. The thing encased her body all over, while somehow displaying every bit of her muscular physique. While it was certainly odd, it did make her feel powerful …

The young actor pushed out his chin:

“No! You are wrong! We will win! And we will be together!”

She walked down the stairs of the throne room confidently. She had practiced this for two hours yesterday, just to make sure she didn’t take a tumble. The whole hall was blacklit, and though the set designer had found a way to combine the black marble/PVC-look with something offering a bit of a grip, she still had to be very careful.

Sonia could literally sense the sharp breath of the director as she managed her descent on the first try, looking regal.

She was now upon him, looking down on the boy from a foot above. She looked him in the eyes. For a moment, she felt the lines she was given. This movie was rather shlocky, and everyone was encouraged to chew any available scenery, and yet, sometimes, the script allowed them a certain vulnerability.

“And so you will.” She smiled softly, as if remembering her own path. “For one precious moment, the fairy tale will come true. Maybe you defeat me. Maybe you kill me. Maybe I flee. You celebrate, you kiss your bride, you free the oppressed. You end their suffering.” Her smile turned sardonic. “Then, slowly, the world will reassert itself. You won’t break the old relations. You won’t be able to dismiss my servants. You won’t hold this ragtag alliance of yours together. And …” She sighed. “You will find out that marrying the princess is easier than being married to her.”

She caressed his cheek. The young man shot her a look of disgust.

“It will be a slow, hidden change. You will come to tolerate the casual cruelty. And as you do, you will lose your allies. It won’t be quick. You will only notice when it’s already too late. Then, finally, you will either become like me, or understand you should have left me in charge …”

She could feel her intensity radiating down on him. His face was twisted with rage:

“No! NO! NEVER!”

He screamed at her and, he would later be unable to say why, pushed her.

For a moment, she felt panic run through her. The crew gasped. The young man realized what he had done. With the costume, she would fall over and hurt herself. Worse still, she would look stupid! The whole scene would …

Instinctively, somehow, instead of taking a step back or tumbling down, she caught his hand, and just tossed him away, her muscles tensing, but holding her balance.

The spell broke.

Mister Barese’s face was transfixed by the scene. He stared at them with gaping mouth and then finally yelled “Cut!”, while already running on the stage, probably to save her from falling over. In mid-sprint, he realized she wasn’t going to, stopped, slid on the marble and fell to his knees, somehow managing to upend himself and land next to her.

“Brava! Bravissima! Thank you, Signora, I am … I am floored. You are truly divine!”

She stared at him, raised her hand to calm him, the young man got up at the same time, terrified by what had just happened, as her assistant came over to support her if she wanted to get off the scene to sit down …

The whole situation was escalating around her, but somehow, she felt incredibly calm. To her surprise, the only thing that worried her was whether they had caught the whole thing on camera.

 

Late that evening, with the shooting of the day finished, everybody tried to relax. They had finished most of the scenes in the throne room, with only the big fight waiting for them near the end of the schedule. It was a warm, surprisingly lush night, and Sonia was happy to be out of the costume and back in her comfortable everyday clothes. The crew was finishing for the day, which would probably take another hour or so, so she walked over to the young man, who was on his phone.

As she approached, he blushed:

“Ma’am, I didn’t want to hurt you. Please accept my apology! It was … I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s nothing. A flight of passion … This is what it is all about. Did you hurt yourself when you landed?”

“No, I caught myself. I practiced judo since I was a little kid, and you basically get tossed around all the time.”

“Good! Still, I think you owe me …”

“Uh … What do you have in mind?”

“How about we join the caterers for an hour or so and you assist me in making ravioli for the crew? I think they deserve it after all the excitement!”

He laughed:

“Ma’am, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

She flashed him a smile, took his hand and led him to the catering area.

 

The young person on the screen was very excited.

“Okay, everybody, here it is: The reaction video so many of you have requested! Seriously, my social media have been flooded, flooded I say, by you! telling me to look at this, and you know me … I have great self-control. I literally managed to not look at it immediately, so, everybody, you are now going to witness me, StarA, react to the trailer of ‘Lord of Radiance – Chronicles of the Empyrean War’ by Gus Barese. So, let’s look at it …”

“Hooolyyy … I need to stop right now. Did you see her? This is Sonia Laurent. The Sonia Laurent. She looks … incredible. Is that makeup? It’s gotta be. I mean, Barese said he wouldn’t do any digital effects … Everybody, this is Oscar material … I mean, if they really managed to make her look like that … Wow. This is … okay, get this. Sonia Laurent is over eighty. And this … Whoa. Whoa. And that outfit. Gotta admit, I don’t know if any current actress or actor would be in that shape, other than right during filming some over the top superhero movie! I need to see more …”

“Stop. Stop. Stop … Wow. I have to take a breath here. This is … incredible. Even the trailer says masterpiece. The duel scene … You see, this is an allusion to the 1919 lost film ‘Mistrz Słońca’ by Łukasz Góragranicz. The main characters fight using the blades of the sun, and they did that early special effect by literally painting over the film. It’s a similar technique used in ‘Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari’ a year later.”

“Seriously, how is she even moving in that outfit … And those muscles … You know I love classic action movies of the 1980ies, but … wow … Sonia Laurent is giving Linda Hamilton a run for her money here! For the friends of corny movies: Rachel McLish was smaller than that in Aces: Iron Eagle III. And the thing is, not to dump on world class athletes, but it’s obvious that not only does Sonia Laurent look incredible, she also can act!”

“Everybody, this is the smirk that launches a thousand memes!”

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome … Sonia Laurent!”

The band played the theme of The Ride of the Dead King and the actress walked in from backstage. She was wearing an emerald green strapless gown that clung to her muscular physique. Her tanned, ripped shoulders were on full display and she had all the elegance of a prima ballerina at the peak of her career. The host got up and came to greet her, somewhat dwarfed by her due to the vertiginous heels she was wearing. First, he offered her his hand, but then she pulled him in and embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks.

He turned to the audience with a blushing, delighted smile, gestured at her, she set a hand against her broad, inviting chest, gave him a delighted smile. The spectators cheered, she threw kisses at them, then he led her to his table.

They both sat down as the applause died down and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Sonia, it’s amazing to have you here!”

“I am delighted to be invited, Frederico.” Somehow, her accent was shining through a little more, and her deep, breathy voice only made her more alluring.

“Just say Freddy. Everybody does.”

“I will do my best, but you know I am an old woman.” She gave him a mock nana-like look.

He played along:

“Yes, obviously, this is the first thing I thought of when I saw you: ‘she looks like a fragile little old lady.’ Must be someone’s grandmother …”

They laughed. The audience joined in.

“I just try to keep fit. Regular exercise does wonders!”

“Sonia, I exercise regularly.” The audience chuckled. “Once a month is regular!” He made a gesture of submission. “But … this … just how strong are you?”

“Ah, just a little, you know. I no longer have to ask my grandson to open the jars in the kitchen when I make lasagna …”

“I hope he doesn’t feel useless now.”

“No, he is still there to help eat the lasagna!”

They laughed.

“Seriously, though, I … I have to ask. Do you want to arm-wrestle?”

The audience cheered.

“What is that?”

“Uh … You put your arms like this, and then you push …”

“Ah! Il braccio di ferro! The arm of iron!”

“Is this what it is called? Amazing. I like that. How do you say it? Bracha di ferow?”

“Braccio di ferro!”

“I could listen to you roll your Rs all day, you know?”

She smiled, charmed by the compliment. He asked:

“So, braccio di ferro?”

“If you insist … But don’t blame me, Freddy, if you win.”

“I doubt I will.”

They clasped and pushed. It went back and forth a bit, but soon, Sonia realized she was indeed stronger than the young man. She liked that. When she did slam the back of his hand against the table, the audience clapped. Sonia was amazed and decided she’d have to talk to the doctor again …

 

“Bisnonna, why are you all painted? Are you going to an art exhibit?”

Claudia frowned at her great-grandmother with the practiced look of a child used to the grown-ups’ weirdness. Her granddaughter had really needed someone to take care of the girl for a week and since Sonia’s daughter Roberta felt a little tired after her hip replacement, the task of watching over Claudia had fallen to her.

The girl had certainly livened up the house since, even if it meant putting a dent in Sonia’s preparations. After much hesitation, she had finally caved in to her own pride and decided to compete in a bodybuilding show.

The little girl had been a little confused by the whole concept, but after explaining that it was a kind of pageant, she understood. Of course, then she asked: “Are they all as old as you there? And why do you need to get painted?”

The trainer she had hired to prepare for the show chuckled:

“That’s so the judges can see her muscles better.”

“But her muscles are so big already. How can they even not see them?”

Sonia couldn’t help agreeing. The last half year had been incredible. The doctor had increased the dosage of her drug and the effect had surprised them all. Somehow, it really stimulated the growth of her muscles, and she had quickly loaded up on mass, going from a level appropriate for fitness to one of lightweight bodybuilding, bordering on midweight. Also, it had rejuvenated her a little more, looking more like a woman in her forties. It was hard to tell. Her face radiated experience and confidence, while her skin suggested she wasn’t a day over thirty. She loved it!

The trainer continued applying the fake tan and the makeup. Sonia explained:

“It’s like in film, you know? The lights are very strong so you can see everything well, but if you use so much light, everybody looks really pale. This is why actors have to wear makeup on stage and in the movies.”

“Is this why the women always wake up with lipstick in the morning?”

“In the movies, yes. Or if you had a marvelous evening and forgot to take off the makeup.”

“Because I used my makeup once, and when I woke up, there were smudges all over my pillow and Mamma was really furious! She said that Nonna Roberta shouldn’t always give me stupid presents! And then Nonna Roberta was angry when I told her. And then Mamma was angry with me because I told her.”

“But you apologized, didn’t you?”

“I tried to clean it first.”

“Did it make everything worse?”

Claudia couldn’t help grinning.

“Yes!”

“There. I think you learned something.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

The trainer smirked and said:

“Alright, this should do it. Now we try the suit, okay?”

“Please.”

Claudia watched as the coach helped her great-grandmother put on the emerald green posing suit.

“It’s so sparkly! I love it. Mamma says I can’t have a swimsuit like that.”

“She is right.”

“Bah! I want a sparkly suit too!”

“You just have to ask your Nonna …”

The trainer had to repress a laugh.

Finally dressed, Sonia set herself in position. Her body was impressive, alright. The treatment had tightened her skin over those muscles and they looked all tense and energetic now. Her pecs supported her revitalized breasts, her abs were cobblestones carved from her tanned skin, and her biceps bulged hard from her strong arms. She went through the poses, flexing them in turn and showing off their mass and symmetry. Claudia followed her movements, obviously impressed. The trainer called out the various poses and said:

“Very well. I think you might be able to win this!”

 

“Over the last decades, the sport of bodybuilding has existed mostly out of media attention. After a burst of popularity due to the success of Arnold Schwarzenegger as a mainstream actor, it had returned to a niche occupation. Now, to the world’s surprise, the comeback of Sonia Laurent and her subsequent athletic career have reinvigorated the sport and it has become surprisingly popular among older women!”

The presenter smiled at the camera as it panned out.

“Today on Verba Manent, we talk about the challenge to female esthetics presented by Sonia Laurent in her new role as a bodybuilder. For this, we have invited philosopher Emmanuele Specchia, political scientist Diana Lancia, theologian Pio Bordoni and of course, Sonia Laurent herself.”

The camera showed each participant in turn. The bearded philosopher with his subtle smile and tweed jacket, the short-haired, slim scientist with her wary eyes and black turtleneck, the priest, his bushy dark eyebrows contrasting his bald head and his slight nervousness shimmering in his eyes. For the occasion, he was dressed in the simple suit of a priest, collar visible.

The camera lingered on Sonia, however. She was wearing an incredible robe, cut from navy blue silk, shining and marvelous. The dress showed off her rounded, strong shoulders, the auburn hair cascading down her back. Her chest was broad now, supporting an ample bosom and tapering down to a slim, strong waist. Her legs were columnlike and powerful and she was wearing simple sandals, that only underlined the absolute ease with which she lived her sexiness.

She smiled at the camera, her eyes smoldering.

The camera returned to the presenter, a tanned gentleman of indeterminate age and impeccable sense of dress.

“Let us begin right away with Signora Laurent. In a way, Signora, you are a reverse Schwarzenegger, aren’t you?”

She smiled and replied:

“But weren’t we both at our strongest in the eighties?”

The philosopher produced a chuckle, while the scientist still seemed vaguely intimidated. The priest seemed a tad confused.

“I meant because you were a successful actress first, and then a bodybuilder.”

“Yes, I think you might be on to something. Although we both started our careers by being famous for our chests!”

Another chuckle, a frown from Diana Lancia and a blush from Monsignor Bordoni.

The host nodded:

“You are right, of course. So, tell us. What is it like to win the Ms. Olympia?”

“It’s a bit like winning an Oscar, but you have to worry less about your dress.”

The host, normally known for his stoic nature, bit his lip for a moment.

“It is impressive. Let us just take a look at your presentation.”

On the screen, Sonia walked on stage her heavyweight body a perfect sculpture of muscle. Her symmetry was obvious even to the casual observer and her physique was amazingly defined. She was wearing a dark green posing suit which revealed everything. With a smile at the judges which almost suggested a faint timidity, she started her presentation. There was a perfect fluidity in her movement, something which was even more unbelievable given her age. Every flex was precise and intense, making her strong muscles bulge and harden at will.

Her show was more of a dance, full of little, elegant movements that really teased the audience. She let her glutes jiggle for a fraction of a moment before hardening them with a quick flex, then demonstrated the control over her back muscles with a wavy motion that reminded the spectators of an Indian dance …

As the clip ended, the camera showed the reactions. The philosopher was clearly impressed, while the political scientist was obviously still making up her mind. The theologian, though, was absolutely outraged. Sonia smiled enigmatically, just enjoying the moment.

The host asked:

“Monsignore, I believe you want to say something right away?”

The cleric took a deep breath and launched into a tirade:

“What is this? Why is this even shown on the television? This is not just sinful. This is an affront against God himself! Look at it: This woman has always been a public danger. We thought she mellowed with age and understood her role, but this? This is …”

Diana Lancia leaned over to him and raised an eyebrow:

“You had your difficulties averting your eyes, Monsignor …”

“I was only looking to be indignant over this.”

There was the slightest smile on the old woman’s face:

“Then you did very well. I am proud that you are still able to fulfil this important role in our society.”

The priest glared at her, while the philosopher leaned back and tried to find some common ground.

“Monsignor, how about you consider Signora Laurent’s performance as art? How different is her work from the sculptures of Donatello or, for that matter, of the paintings of Michelangelo? You do have a fair share of very … muscular women in the Sistine Chapel. And few of them are as amazingly, well, detailed, as Signora Laurent?”

The theologian’s eyes narrowed, while the political scientist bit down on her finger.

Sonia smiled. She adored this whole situation …

 

Epilogue

The sun was out and the lake was glittering in the distance. It was a marvelous early morning and the air was still cool, which suited Sonia fine. Today was arms day and she was going to make the most of it. A few years ago, she had a special custom rubber surface installed on this part of her garden which could deal with the enormous weights she had been using lately.

The dumbbells she had prepared today were special one-of-a-kind pieces, constructed from a special alloy that would challenge her with its weight while not getting overly massive. Having built her muscles for over twenty years now, her mass had grown so much that it was quite useful to not bog down her range of motion with big lumps of iron. Also, she enjoyed the elegance as well as the practicality.

As she started pumping out slow, painfully controlled repetitions, she couldn’t help realizing just how lucky she had been. Some scientists had finally discovered that the drug she had used back then interacted with some genetic sequence activated by an epigenetic trigger or some other biological vocabulary, and this had triggered her transformation and progress.

They were working on making this replicable, but for now, it was still a miracle by itself.

Sonia no had stopped competing in bodybuilding shows a decade ago. When invited, she would occasionally appear for a guest posing, displaying the famous “Laurent Body”, which had been immortalized in the trophy of the Classico d’Italia, usually referred to as the Sonia Laurent Classic.

By now, she had outgrown that little statue, but she still found it all very flattering.

Competing didn’t make much sense, and she considered it somewhat demeaning for the other participants. Even the guest presentations had the tendency to ruin everybody’s palate.

Not many celebrities had actually spawned a church of sorts that actually venerated her as a goddess, even if she found the idea both blasphemous and somewhat concerning. Tragically, Sonia had to agree with her venerators: She was, in her way, superhuman.

She finished her set and lowered the absurdly heavy dumbbell on the rubber, then stretched and flexed her arms. The mass of ripped muscle that brusquely erupted from it was incredible. She wondered if she would ever have enough …

She bounced her pecs just for fun and then ran her fingers down her cobblestone abs. Being massive and feeling young and strong was just incredible! At almost a hundred years old, she had to admit to a certain pride in her physique.

Just as she was starting to feel the tingle of lust, she heard her phone beep its alarm.

She had to get ready! Claudia was going to be here in an hour, and she still had to put everything away, shower, and get dressed. Over the last year, her great-granddaughter had started training with her once a week to compensate for all the sitting at the university. The girl wasn’t making much progress, obviously, but they were having fun and it was a thing they could enjoy together.

As Sonia quickly put away the weights and wiped down her equipment, she wondered whether Claudia also had this special gene set. Maybe she would be able to really train with her one day …

She would see. After all, she had all the time in the world!

[El_Roy_1999]

Something different once in a while …

The Sculptor’s Masterpiece
Colleen is commissioned to craft a sculpture of a famous bodybuilder woman. She is fascinated by her physique, and as she works, this fascination starts to change her …
This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth (FMG) and transformation. All characters are at least 18 years old.

It was great fun to write!

Get it here: 
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1144876

The preview: 

“We are very glad and thankful that you would have us, Miss …”

Colleen smiled at the couple. They were certainly strange, yet interesting people. He was a big, balding man who looked as if he still worked on the factory floor which he now owned every day. His smile was equally big and he appeared to show her genuine enthusiasm. The woman, on the other hand, felt more reserved. Colleen couldn’t help admiring her. Despite the pantsuit she was wearing, her physique was obvious. This woman lived in the gym and probably had an incredible figure.

Next to her, Colleen probably looked vaguely dumpy. She had her hair tied into a messy bun and covered in a scarf to prevent the dust from settling in it. Her calloused hands looked rough and brutish next to the other woman’s perfectly manicured ones and while years of working as a sculptor had given Colleen a strong, tight body, the woman’s muscles seemed much more dramatic than hers.

“No, no, the pleasure is all mine. I haven’t done a commission yet, but I am very happy that you would give me a chance.”

The man set his hand in his lover’s and shrugged:

“It’s a shame, really. The sculptors one meets today always do some weird stuff, like welding together some trash or just doing some funny stuff I wouldn’t even understand … Pardon my French, but … I think these guys have no talent. It’s all just getting people to buy stuff, right?”

The woman squeezed his fingers a little and said:

“Jerry, you’re ranting.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I …” He looked at Colleen: “The thing is, look at me.” He made a gesture at himself and his bespoke suit. “I’m playing dress-up here. I’m no intellectual and I know nothing about art. My company makes drills. I didn’t go to any schools or anything. But I did take Marina to Europe recently, and we saw all those fancy art museums.” He smiled. “I thought since she was a bodybuilding champion and since those bodybuilders all started with the Greek stuff, I said: ‘Let’s look at some naked dudes made of marble.’ And it was great!”

Marina nodded:

“Amazing. Have you ever been to Europe?”

Colleen agreed:

“I had the chance while I was at college.”

The big man grinned:

“That was a wonderful idea. They really know a thing or two about sculpture. And when Marina saw your stuff on the internet, she said that we should ask you to make a statue of her.”

Marina added:

“I recently won the first place at the International, and now I think I’m pretty much at my peak. I don’t think it’s going to get much better, and I’d love to have this moment immortalized, if you get what I’m saying.”

The sculptor nodded eagerly:

“It’ll be a pleasure to do this. I have never worked like this, but I’m sure I will manage. We’ll have to figure out the perfect pose for you and … it is going to take some time to do. You are aware of that?”

The bodybuilder replied with a confident smile:

“Believe me, I am used to sacrifices and being uncomfortable.”

“But not because of me, right?”, Jerry laughed. “Nah. I really do my best to support her, after all, she is gorgeous, don’t you think?”

Colleen blushed:

“I don’t think I should say much, sir …”

He raised an eyebrow, then looked pleadingly at Marina:

“I am doing this wrong again, aren’t I?”

“Nah, darling, you’re doing great!”

They kissed, Marina’s strong hands caressing his cheeks. For Colleen, this only got more awkward. At last, she asked:

“Okay, so … what style do you have in mind?”

The couple separated, letting their kiss linger a bit, then Jerry declared:

“Marble, obviously. White. You just buy a piece and send me the invoice. You can pick two additional pieces for whatever you need at the same time. Consider it a bonus or something. Then you two come up with a cool classical pose, and you do your magic, Miss.”

Colleen nodded:

“Very well.” She hesitated: “Just so I can prepare mentally for it and maybe get the correct ‘costume’, if you will … What would you like to wear?”

The couple exchanged glances, then Marina said:

“I’d prefer to be in the nude, really. This is for us, and I don’t see any point in concealing any part of this body!”

Colleen got a little nervous in that moment.

“Alright. I will do my best. I will select the marble and give you a call as soon as everything is ready. And I will do my best to do you justice.”

The couple agreed and soon enough, they left, excited for the future piece of art.

Colleen, on the other hand, was feeling insecure and rather fascinated. The idea of working on a bodybuilder’s physique like this … It made her nervous. Then again, this was a once in a lifetime chance!

 

A few days later, Marina arrived at Colleen’s workshop. The sculptor had advised her to wear some cheap clothes that could be thrown away afterwards. The place was dusty and there were always bits of stone lying around, regardless of how much work Colleen invested in keeping it clean. The smell of dust lingered in the air. Marina was wearing a tracksuit that still somehow managed to emphasize her figure.

“Hello Colleen! I got your call and came as fast as I could. Is everything ready?”

The sculptor nodded eagerly. She was wearing a simple t-shirt, some dungarees and another scarf to protect her hair, as well as having a filter mask hanging from her neck and some goggles on her forehead. All in all, she was looking pretty trashy. The bodybuilder didn’t seem to mind.

“I like the casual look. Very steampunk.”

“Steampunk? I mean, the goggles, yes. And the mask … Okay. And the dungarees. I get what you’re saying.”

Marina smiled. Colleen was amazed by her tanned skin, her long blond hair and her casual sexiness. She sighed:

“Okay, so here’s how this is going to go. First, I’ll take some pictures from the various angles so I have a reference should anything go wrong or take longer. I’ll also have to film you so I can figure out how your body moves in detail. That can be amazingly useful! I mean, I once spent a week just filming my hand doing various movements.”

Marina nodded:

“I totally get that.”

“You do?”

“Sure. When you’re posing, you’re flexing all the various muscles, even in combinations that don’t normally occur. So you really have to figure out how to make them do what you want.”

“Oh. Wow! That is fascinating.”

“It’s one of the harder things about the sport. I mean, everybody can flex their biceps, but you gotta make it really pop. And there’s a lot to learn about that.”

Colleen nodded:

“Okay, that sounds like a thing I definitely need explained. And shown.”

“So, should I get undressed?”

“Please. Is the workshop warm enough for you? I could get a space heater.”

“No problem. I’ll tell you if I feel uncomfortable. Back when I started, I used to model for art classes and those places were always freezing!”

Colleen agreed:

“Oh yes. Those classes were bad! The professor always said: ‘Kids, I’ll get you a well-lit workshop and a bathroom. The rest is yours to bring. And if you’re starting to feel cold, it’s time to work faster!’.”

Marina chuckled sarcastically:

“That sounds like a wonderful working environment.”

“Yeah. Really made us all want to leave quickly. But it worked for me.”

Marina unzipped her jacket and pulled it off, folding it carefully and setting it on a nearby chair. Colleen observed her with fascination. The other woman revealed a pair of arms that was positively built! Every bit of her body was buff and hard, with all the veins visible and even some lines of her muscles’ striations noticeable.

“Whoa. This is cool!”

“You like it?”

“Like it? Love it! This is going to be amazing!”

Marina humored her with a few flexes, then said:

“I should probably continue getting out of my clothes, right?”

“Just let me take a few pictures first. Do the first thing again!”

Marina flexed again, making her biceps swell. Colleen snapped away, switching positions quickly to get as many angles as possible. At last, she was finished and asked:

“Okay, stupid question, but … can I touch your arm?”

Marina raised an eyebrow:

“Sure. Why not?”

“Really? Cool!”

The sculptor set her fingers on the other woman’s biceps and started running them up and down the bulge, taking in the structure and the texture. She started humming quietly to herself and followed the various lines and shapes. Marina was a little surprised by this level of attention but let Colleen have her fun.

Eventually, she asked:

“Are you looking for something special?”

“No, not in that way. The thing is, the stone has a certain, that’s not the real word, but … flow? Like a direction it takes? So if you work on it, you can’t really go against it? It … wants to take a certain shape.”

She blushed:

“Okay, that sounds stupid and esoteric, but in a less dumb way, it’s true. So as a sculptor, I have to know where I want to go and what shapes I will create and apply those to the way of the material? Is this understandable?”

“I guess? I have no idea of sculpture.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You just have a different medium. I work with stone, and you work with flesh.”

“Alright, this sounds really, really gross.”

“Uh, yes. But my point stands.”

Marina hesitated, then said:

“I guess in a way, you’re right. It’s a kind of sculpture, really. I try to figure out a certain harmony of proportions I want to achieve, and then I work to make the relevant muscles grow in some ways or shrink in others. And when I get my massages after the workout, it’s kind of shaping them like clay.”

“What do you mean?”

“The masseur breaks up the muscles when they’re strained so they can get bigger when healing again. It’s very hard to do and they tend not to like it, but it’s essential. Otherwise, the muscles grow very slow.”

“So you really decide where and how your body grows?”

“Yeah. That’s the whole point. Otherwise, I couldn’t have symmetry. My legs have to be balanced with my arms, the development of my chest must match my abs … I can’t just grow my muscles at random, it wouldn’t look good.”

Colleen was impressed:

“I never would have thought this was so complicated!”

“You wouldn’t believe it! I mean, it’s a very nerdy thing to do … You have so many variables and there are tons of gurus and people spreading myths, making everything way more complicated than I would have thought back when I started. You really have to be careful.”

“In what way? You mean drugs?”

“Not just that. Seriously, you have to be careful about everything. People will recommend you exercises that could bust your joints, diets that could ruin your liver and don’t get me started about supplements! And yes, the drugs will fuck you up. It’s an arms race and if you want to win, you can’t allow yourself to lag behind.”

“That sounds … terrifying? I mean, I think of myself as a skeptical person, but having to double-check every bit of my life …”

“As I said, it’s nerdy. Either you love it, or you don’t. And if you don’t, you won’t go far.”

“Okay …”

“The thing is, getting fit is easy, staying fit is hard. It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon. If you don’t stick to your schedule every day, you’re not going to go far. If you can’t set aside two to three hours every day just for training, eating and recovery, you’re still going to look good, but you’re not going to win any contests.”

Colleen had Marina continue posing her arm, then went on to take in her shoulder and back muscles. She asked:

“About that … What’s with those contests? I mean, basically, it’s just standing around in a bikini, right?”

Marina laughed:

“You wish. It’s not just a beauty contest. Before a show, you’ve been on a harsh diet for weeks and on the day itself, you’re starved, tired and thirsty. And then, you must focus and really pose your muscles to the best effect. Muscles which are, at that point, pretty much exhausted. And it has to look elegant and feminine … The men have it easier. They can just strut around and wave their arms around, but if you do that as a woman, you’re instantly marked down.”

Colleen’s fingers went down Marina’s back.

“Wow … This is astonishing. You have like a little Christmas tree back here.”

“Yeah. That was a lot of work, and I had luck with my genetics!”

“It sounds so complicated. And the contests … I guess it’s worth it with the prize money, right?”

Marina broke into enormous laughter. She barely managed to keep a hold of herself. She even snorted, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Did I say something funny?”

The musclewoman wiped a tear from her eye and said, slowly calming down:

“Kinda. The thing is, the prize money is a joke. If I were doing it for the money, I’d be a fool. Nope. Either you do it for its own sake, or you don’t do it at all.”

Colleen nodded:

“Okay, this I can understand. This is pretty much my situation, or any artist’s, really.”

Marina agreed:

“Yes. I think it’s the same situation.”

The sculptor examined her butt. To tease and impress her, Marina tightened her glutes, making them shift into a mass of ripped muscle.

“Wow … You know what, I think I start to get the fascination …”

Marina tensed her ass even more, turning it into a brutally shredded pair of steel.

“Thank you! That’s the best compliment one can get in my line of work …” The bodybuilder played around some more and said: “If you’re interested, I could give you a beginner’s workout routine that should allow for some quick basic gains. Don’t expect to get anywhere near my level with it, but it would definitely firm you up, and bring some nice definition … Especially since you’re already quite strong!”

“I’d love that. Thank you!” She traced the dents on the side of her glutes and then asked: “Okay, now show me those legs …”

 

[El_Roy_1999]

I’ve been publishing an ongoing story on deviantart for over a year already, and here’s the next collected part. 
You can read it here: 
https://www.deviantart.com/elroy1999/gallery/74579826/butch-x-bimbo

Butch x Bimbo – Issue 4!

Here’s the collected parts 271 to 360 of the story I wrote with MisterSnrub. 

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/1143878

[Author]

Posts