[Fonk]

Hey, looking really good! 8)

[Fonk]

I love it! I especially like the caption you've given her. Hee!

[Fonk]

Hot forever. ;D

[Fonk]

This is a fantastic post. Thanks very much for making it.

Y'know the best part? I was genuinely trying to type something when I put "Mlam". :-[ / 😉

[Fonk]

Hi! I've translated the next chapter. Thanks go to scat for his tremendous stuff. The plot thickens up in this one and no mistake!

New Generation 6

A faint light shone into the room. I moaned a little and tried to get back to the dream that I'd been having. It was then that someone opened the shutters and any chance of dreaming flew out of the window. I turned over to begin my day. Before I could react I heard the characteristic clicking of high heels echoing around the room. I remembered immediately: Natacha! Natacha?!?

"Natacha?" I shouted, and opened my eyes to see the young woman.

Her tall silhouette stood in front of the window, wide open now, against the intense light. It was a shame that I had to satisfy myself with staring at the shape of her powerfully built body, the details of her generous form indistinguishable against the light. The beauty was standing tall, legs straight as an arrow on her high heels. She wore, like the day before, a thin silk shirt which was ruffling gently in the breeze. It gave the scene a bewitching air. The semi-transparent fabric let you clearly see her hypertrophied thighs, slightly apart, inflating with the slightest movement. She smiled, arms folded, hopping from foot to foot. As for me, I was trying desperately to hide my erection when she approached the bed.

"Get up!" she said. "It's late!"

"Late?" I said. "What time is it?"

"Nearly midday!" She brusquely tore the sheets off, leaving me completely naked in the middle of the bed. "Come on! You have to take a shower," she continued.

She took hold of my ankle and slid me to the edge of the bed. There, she slid a hand underneath my butt and offered me the other so I could keep my balance. I took her hand without the slightest hesitation. She stood upright, holding me at arm's length, and went toward the bathroom.

Gilles was right: I'd gotten used to Natacha's arms very quickly.

I tried to grab hold of her shoulders, just to touch her muscular body. She smiled faintly and brought her arm towards her body, thus bringing me closer to her. I threw myself at her neck and stuck my head next to her chest. As I rubbed up against her, I asked a question.

"I'm sorry about breakfast. I hope you didn't wait for me… ?"

"Don't worry! We had a great breakfast." She deposited me in front of the shower and pushed me inside.

"I won't be long," I said as I closed the door and turned back to her. She let her silk shirt slide the length of her legs before opening the door.

"Neither will I!" she said, and got into the shower with me.

              ______

On the other side of the property, Irina and Adriana were travelling down a long corridor, pushing a trolley laden with medical and video equipment. Both women were wearing white coats that covered them up to mid-thigh, slit at the sides to facilitate their movement. Despite this measure, each step revealed more and more of their tanned, muscly thighs. The coats, stretched as they were by the pair's massive muscles, could only be buttoned up to waist level. At bust level, ridiculously small metallic badges had been bent out of shape with the tension in the coats. They bore the sisters' first names, allowing you to distinguish between the twin sisters.

The shock nurses stopped in the middle of the corridor.

"Room 12," Irina said. "Here we are!" Adriana stood the trolley against the wall and opened the door.

"Hello!"

A young woman was sitting on the end of a hospital bed. She lifted her head to look at them. Her eyes were filled with tears and she rubbed at them with her wrist to see them clearly.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

Adriana walked around the room in two giant steps to hold the woman, preventing her from standing up. She helped the woman to lie back down on the bed, caressing her hair.

"Don't worry! We're going to take care of you."

"… and my husband? Where is he?" Adriana stood up and pointed a finger at a second bed on the other side of the room.

"He's there! Don't worry." The young woman tried to get up but Adriana grabbed her by the shoulder immediately and forced her to lie down.

"He's sleeping," she said, to reassure the young woman. She turned her head and seemed reassured to see her spouse lying on the bed next to hers, on the other side of the room.

"He's not going to go to prison, is he?" she questioned Adriana. "It was an accident, you know! It was my fault, I never pay attention!"

Adriana put a finger to her lips to quiet her and began to dab at her face with a piece of cotton wool soaked in disinfectant.

"Your husband beat you very badly. You nearly died at his hands… and you're worried about what's going to happen to him?

"I love him, don't you understand?"

"No!" Adriana replied. "No, I don't understand!"

"If you love someone – "

"OK now, this is going to hurt!" Adriana interrupted her. The young woman closed her eyes. Adriana ripped away a piece of bandage that was holding a compress stained with blood in one go. She continued speaking.

"If he loved you, he would never have hit you." The young woman turned her head away so that she didn't have to look at Adriana.

"I can't live without him…"

"Don't worry. We're not going to take him from you."

Irina approached her sister, holding out a syringe for her.

"How is she?"

"She's still suffering from shock, but she is recovering from her injuries."

"Excellent!" she said, and turned to the young woman, smiling widely, to try and make her relax. Adriana tapped the syringe a few times to burst the bubbles inside it, and leaned over to complete the injection.

"This is to calm you down," she said, seizing the young woman's arm. "You need to get some rest." She carried on, to reassure her: "Michelle… that's a nice name. I'm – "

"Adriana! It's written on your badge."

"Of course! I'm so stupid."

"No! No, you're not stupid! You're very kind to take care of me. You are – " The young woman's head fell heavily to one side, and Adriana turned towards her sister:

"She's asleep!"

              _____

Natacha emerged from the shower whilst I stayed inside to dry myself down. It was the first time I'd seen the goddess completely naked and I found myself unable to take my eyes from her through the glass. I couldn't make out much because of the condensation. To better devour her with my eyes, I formed a little circle in the steam.

She nonchalantly moved towards the window and stood there to profit from the heat of the sun's rays. As she has not gone to the trouble of drying herself, the glints of light on her wet body seemed to inflate her extraordinary muscles. The light hit her tanned skin, accentuating her curves everywhere. As the sunlight dried her skin, the smallest drops of water evaporated, forming a small cloud which she seemed to follow her as she moved. The larger drops of water slid the length of her exposed muscles at the slightest gesture. And what movements they were!

She had placed her hands on the windowsill and pushed down hard to contract her enormous triceps. When she felt her large muscles engorged with blood, she stretched her heavy, powerful legs, making her powerful quadriceps somersault as she stood on the tips of her toes. Her head thrown back, she stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the gentle warmth that filled her exposed throat.

She progressively relaxed her arms and lifted them towards the sky to stretch for a moment, hopping from one foot to the other.

She was so gorgeous!

She clenched her fists and brought her arms down slowly to pull off a superb double biceps. As she had breathed in so deeply, her back had flared outward and her pectorals had risen. Her waist seemed more slender, her silhouette even more feminine and sexy. I stood with my jaw dropped. So much muscular power made me go mad. I didn't know where to look first.

Natacha trembled for a brief moment and started to massage her arms. Mimicking her unconsciously, I began to rub my feeble and flimsy arms. I tried to imagine my hands around those massive arms but the limpness of my arms shattered the illusion instantly – my thoughts went back to Natacha. Thin tracks of sparkling water traced the path of thick veins brought into prominence by the warm shower, then exploding under the impulsion of muscle that was contracting too quickly. I jumped every time, as if I could feel, from where I was, the push of the muscle on me. She continued to knead her arms and shoulders for a moment, then drew her hands down her torso. Then she slowly caressed her thighs, as if she were trying to penetrate the muscle, the heat of her skin.

When she leaned forward, I did the same. My fingertips could feel my bony knees and long tendons through the skin, but I imagined myself rubbing Natacha's mighty quadriceps and felt strong pleasure. Leaning well forward, legs taut, she was able to leave her chest exposed to the sun's rays to get the most out of this moment of relaxation, all whilst rubbing down her big, protruding calves.

In this caressing movement, she crushed, although involuntarily, her luxurious chest between her arms. Her two big breasts started to knock into each other. They slapped wetly together, causing the water on her body to accelerate to the tips of her nipples. From there, a steady rush of tiny drips splashed onto the floor.

I hadn't noticed anything but my sex, filled with blood, had taken on extraordinary proportions. It had risen, little by little, and was now pushing strongly against the glass door. The cubicle door slowly opened, screeching horribly. I didn't even move my hands to cover my shame: I simply looked for Natacha's reaction.

She was wringing out her wet hair, the slightest of the muscles on her Herculean arms brought sharply into relief by the effort she was putting into the task. She turned her head toward me and stood upright, keeping her hands on her blonde hair. A marvellous smile lit up her face, but I couldn't move my eyes from her enormous biceps, which she was making erupt alternately from each of her massive, voluminous arms.

She lifted her hands slowly from over her head, causing long tangles of her brilliant blonde – and now dry – hair to fall, ever so slowly and very appealingly, onto her fleshy shoulders.

She pretended that nothing had happened.

"I'll put something on and then I'll be ready!"

She picked up what appeared to be a pair of shorts and threw it on the floor. Then, delicately keeping it open with the tips of her toes, she lowered herself to put it on, one ankle at a time. She lifted her head to me, voluntarily accentuating the arching of her back, and slipped the garment up the length of her legs by wriggling her body like a pole dancer rubbing her fleshy butt cheeks on the steel of that phallic symbol. The material stretched slowly, her hypertrophied muscles forcing the weave of the shorts to show occasionally. When she had finished, the shorts were like a second skin, the stitches clearly visible at thigh level because of the huge muscle mass there.

Whilst I tried to get back to my senses, she was squatting in front of me, holding another pair of shorts in her hand.

"These are for you!" she said, delicately forcing the material apart to allow me to put my legs inside.

"They're mine," she continued, "so they're the same size… but it's elastic, so it should be OK."

I took a step forward and put one leg through, and then the other, in the openings she was presenting to me. She pulled the shorts up slowly, bringing herself to her full height at the same time. Against my expectations, she continued to pull herself upright even when the shorts were in place, lifting me up. When we were face to face, she looked down at my shorts and smiled. Then she lowered me slowly. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I looked at myself in a mirror.

The shorts that looked so small on her came down to below my knees and though they were alright around my waist, they were so wide at my thighs that it looked like I was wearing a skirt.

"I can't wear this!" Natacha smiled.

"No, of course not! I'll go and find a pair of Papa's shorts." She quickly pulled on a T-shirt whose size I didn't dare to imagine and shot off down the corridor.

Once I was alone, I put my hands down the shorts and pushed the fabric out to what I guessed was the size of Natacha's thighs. I pushed with all my strength and managed to stretch the fabric but, despite my efforts, I couldn't get the stitches to appear. Then I recalled the ease with which she had put the shorts on and easily imagined the extraordinary force she had to have used to do so.

"Good Lord! What a woman!"

[Fonk]

Oh no!

I love the way this is heating up. Eeeeeee! 😉

[Fonk]

That's brilliant! ;D

Unfortunately I couldn't send it to any of my friends – they're all such Potter fans that they'd have very bad reactions. 🙁

[Fonk]

That's an interesting overview. I hope you do decide to expand this idea with characters, it'd be fantastic! ;D

[Fonk]

Sorry this is taking so long: it's been manic at work recently. Now I've got some time off, though! Whoo-hoo!

The Claws Of Winter – Part 3

Vanessa Keates was alert. Something about the green point of light she had spotted was making her uneasy. "It's a trap," she said, stopping. "I know," Jean-Jacques replied solemnly. "But look at it this way: we have no other leads and my Ring, at least, is saying that the source of the magic is within that cave. We have no choice." Vanessa nodded: it made a lot of sense. They continued.

The trio were within a hundred yards of the foot of the mountain when Vanessa heard a noise from above. It sounded like a scream, although no human could have made the sound. She screwed up her eyes, trying to find the source in the blizzard. Her eyes went wide. The others gasped. "What is that?" Dominique yelled over the whipping snow. "Those," Vanessa said grimly. "What are those." A horde of creatures was pouring from the cave mouth, each giving its own private battle cry before freefalling into the snow and running toward them. She swallowed. There would soon be too many to fight alone.

She turned to her companions. "They'll be on us in seconds. Can you fight?" They both nodded, faces ashen white. "Good. Ask your Rings for strength and speed," she suggested. "I'll hold them off. Hurry!" With that, the Englishwoman charged the advancing pig warriors. If she'd had the time to look back, she would have seen Dominique and Jean-Jacques close their eyes and whisper something that the wind would have taken from her ears. Then the pair would have clenched their fists, their rings glowing through the rainbow, thrown their heads back and begun changing.

The blonde would have recognised that Dominique's cream coat didn't stood a chance: the muscles bloating through her lean thighs tore it apart, closely followed by her billowing pecs and powered-up arms. She would have seen the Frenchwoman giggle as the snow tingled her rose-coloured nipples into hardness. She'd have gaped as Dominique experimentally flexed her biceps, watching as their peaks rose higher than her own, full of dense, veiny muscle. She would have bit her lip as she saw the puckered skin of Dominique's navel push out as pairs of awesome abs rippled onto her midsection, her shoulders burst into broad might, her calves turn into melon-sized mounds. She would have had to swallow to regain her composure. Incomparable beauty allied to, and subtly enhanced by, superhuman strength. If seduction did not work for the new Dominique, brutal violence certainly would.

Vanessa would not have paid attention to Jean-Jacques, even though his muscle growth was more explosive. Had she done so, though, she'd have seen huge slabs of strength emerge from his frame. She would have grinned as his clothes tore to shreds almost instantly, revealing a supreme Adonis beneath. She would have been impressed by the size of his pecs, the blocky bulges of his arms, and the pumping brawn of his legs. She would have seen him smile like an evil genius whose nemesis is strapped to the death ray.

But Vanessa saw none of that: she was protecting her colleagues from the pig creatures. She was like a whirling dervish, relying on brute strength and speed to take her through the hordes of monsters. A fist here, a kick there; a crack of a neck, sometimes. Each one was armed with a sword, a club or a mace, but nothing had come close to the blonde. Yet. Taking out the first ten or so had been easy, but made the others wary of engaging her. When Dominique and Jean-Jacques joined their colleague, both naked and effervescently strong, twenty of the monstrosities had surrounded her and were closing in.

Jean-Jacques picked up a twitching corpse and launched it at the army's strongest point, causing enough confusion for the two women to break up the rest of the sinister circle. "Kill them!" Vanessa cried, in French. "We have to get into that cave!"

Dominique was timid in her fighting at first, unsure – perhaps unaware – of her immense strength. However, as the battle wore on Vanessa caught glimpses of her driving her meaty fists through pig-faced skulls with brutal efficiency. Jean-Jacques had taken to brawling like a duck to water, using synapse and sinew in perfect combination to become the deadliest fighter on the team, pirouetting his way through scores of their opponents. The three Ringbearers were beating back the tide of ogres, making slow progress toward the cave as they did so. But the beasts kept coming.

The snow turned deep red.

"This is no use!" Vanessa shouted, wresting a sword away from a monster to her left and using it to stab one in front of her. "We need to think of something else!" As so often happens, the plan came to her as soon as the words were out of her mouth. "Yes!" she breathed, slicing her stolen weapon through a couple of bodies, not pausing to watch them slump to the floor. "Jean-Jacques!" she called. "I am going for the cave mouth!" "Understood!" he shouted back, whirling a mace through a crowd of ogres with his left hand and killing a couple more with the sword in his right. Vanessa whipped around to check on Dominique, and found her enthusiastically headbutting one of the beasts into a couple of its colleagues. She smiled wryly.

With a small grunt of effort, the blonde leaped up and landed on the head of one of the monsters in front of her. Before the creature toppled to the floor, she had jumped onto another's head. Within moments she had her rhythm and was running to the cave, using the beasts' heads as stepping stones. They crumpled under her muscular bulk, causing confusion everywhere. Vanessa made it to the base of the mountain before the ogres realised what was happening. From there, she leaped onto the sheer wall of the cliff, a little way away from where the pig warriors were still pouring out of the cave.

"Ring!" she thought as she clung on, wild with adrenalin, the snow still whipping into her face. "Make me the perfect natural climber!" Unusually, nothing happened: the ring didn't even change colours. Frowning, the musclewoman experimentally climbed a few feet. It was easy: the natural handholds and footholds instinctively came within her reach, and her grip strength was phenomenal. She laughed madly, drunk on her own brilliance, as she scaled the mountain like some bulked-up version of Spider Woman.

Once the blonde was within five feet of the cave mouth – still carefully to the right of it – she leaned out, one hand stuck to the rock. Her French companions were doing fine, still making headway against the army. She couldn't help staring with envy at Dominique's figure: still a statuesque beauty, only now one with superheroine level strength and splashes of gore on her naked body. And there was Jean-Jacques, the enigma, deep in his ballet of destruction. Her jaw went slack with admiration – it was as if he were playing some mad game of chess, always several moves ahead of his enemies.

The hanging heroine shook her head, readying herself to carry out the last part of her plan. She climbed to a point directly over the cave mouth, facing the ground hundreds of feet below. Using her superhuman grip, Vanessa swung herself, backwards, through the entrance to the cave, knocking down a row of the creatures. She twisted round to face the rest of the onslaught. A battalion of ogres had lined up to take her on. Grinning, she had just enough time to lean out of the cave and cry, "Come on up, guys!" before they attacked.

A good right dealt with the nearest bad guy, which she followed up with a strong left and a fierce kick to fell another couple of enemies. Diving to pick up a sword, she ran through a further two, testing the weight of the blade. Whilst her fighting was not as intuitive as Jean-Jacques's spellbinding technique, the blonde liked to think she could handle herself.

"Ring!" she thought, planting a foot square in the stomach of an onrushing ogre, sending it careening into a line of reinforcements, "how long can I keep fighting?" A short pause followed, which she used to stab a pig monster through the jugular. "One minute. Then the adrenaline loss will leave you on the point of collapse." Her eyes widened. "When will the others get here?" "Two minutes." A shockwave ran through Vanessa's body. "New plan," she said, backing away from the monsters and tearing off her clothes. Once the Ringbearer was naked, she gave her instruction to the Ring. "Make the front of my body blindingly bright for twenty seconds." "Close your eyes." Vanessa obeyed as the ring shone a stark yellow.

Even through her eyelids the blonde was momentarily caught off-guard by the blazing, battering light she was emitting. Counting the seconds down, she walked forward through the hordes. The heroine used their groaning and moaning to get a fix on each one and then swing her sword through their necks or bellies. When the flash ended, Vanessa slowly opened her eyes. She disposed of the enemies she had not yet killed with terrifying brutality, covering her muscular body in the beasts' blood. Grimacing, she poked a finger into her pouting navel and scraped out a daub of scarlet liquid. "I am going to need a shower," she announced.

The stunt had bought the Englishwoman some precious time. The rough walls of the cave narrowed considerably a pace or two ahead, so she piled up some of the beasts' corpses to block it off. More blood splattered onto her during the task, but Vanessa did not react. "Three years ago," she thought, "I would have screamed an avalanche." She smiled wryly. She stood back to admire her handiwork, feeling the adrenaline slosh away.

Vanessa felt a tap on her shoulder. She whirled around, all clenched fist and gritted teeth. Thankfully it was Jean-Jacques, his potent, larger-than-life muscles engorged with exertion. The heroine was impressed with the scope of his musculature: Hercules himself could not hold a candle to the man muscle mountain the Frenchman had become. Even without his awesome fighting instinct, Vanessa would have stood no chance against him. She risked the briefest glance at his penis, finding something beyond her wildest – and weirdest – dreams.

Dominique brought up the rear, half-running, half-bouncing. Pulchritudinous and powerful, she looked like some ancient totem to absolute femininity. Still, Vanessa couldn't stop herself blushing in sympathy. When the Frenchwoman caught up to the pair, it took a full five seconds for her to stop jiggling. She tossed her head impatiently, bringing her hair to life like a Baywatch actress. Vanessa broke the silence.

"I think you need a licence for those," she joked, in French. Dominique looked down at the immensity of her bosom, pushed out further than usual by her beefy pecs, and raised an eyebrow imperiously at the Englishwoman. "What do you mean?" Vanessa frowned quickly. "I… I just meant… er, you know…" The mighty maiden put her hands on her muscle-bloated hips and stared her English counterpart down. Jean-Jacques took a pace and planted his statuesque body in between them, reaching his arms to full stretch to separate them. Dominique looked livid. He turned his thick neck to look at them in turn.

"We must work together in this mission," he emphasised. "We have made it this far; we must continue on to vanquish the threat to our world. Now," he continued, once he was sure the pair would not come to blows, "help me dig out these corpses so we can progress." Vanessa nodded quickly. Dominique's eyes narrowed, but she agreed. "Note to self," Vanessa thought. "Never appear to challenge a woman whose thighs could crush diamonds."

*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

The trio cleared the wretched corpses cautiously, but their Rings told them there was nothing alive beyond. "We may not have killed them all," Jean-Jacques cautioned unnecessarily. "Be careful." Vanessa rolled her eyes, keeping her fury carefully in check. She would need to channel it properly later.  Dominique nodded, smiling faintly.

Each Ringbearer asked for the ability to see in the dark before they proceeded. The cave flickered into vivid greens and murky black. Jean-Jacques lead the way, with Dominique following and Vanessa to bring up the rear. The blonde could feel the blood congealing onto her body, under her fingernails, everywhere and anywhere she didn't want it to be. Clearing the blockage she had created had allowed the heroine to get her strength and breath back, but there was still tension in her muscles. She was carrying a long, curved broadsword in her right hand, drawing comfort from the way gripping it brought the veins in her forearm into prominence.

"Ring," Vanessa thought idly. "Why is it that night vision is always in green?" The Ring responded immediately: "Green is the easiest colour for the human eye to pick out." Vanessa's eyebrows rose. "Is that a fact?" "Yes," was the quick response. "Keep alert, Ringbearer."

The Ring's warning was needless, though: the caves were deserted. The passage narrowed considerably as the trio journeyed on, following its winding, rocky paths deeper into the mountain. The group reached the point where Jean-Jacques was too wide and had to turn to the side to move forward. At that stage Dominique took over the lead, which Vanessa was glad of. Following the Frenchwoman's perfectly sculpted back and butt was making her more jealous than she cared to think about. The second bonus was that she had an unrivalled chance to check out Jean-Jacques' gorgeous physique. Despite the arrogance of the man, she felt a tingling heat rise within her.

"Any more word on the source of the magic, Ring?" Vanessa asked in an effort to distract herself from the Frenchman's enormity. The physical ring flashed silver and gold. "We are within a hundred metres of the source," it claimed. The hairs on Vanessa's neck stood on end. "Guys!" she whispered. "We're very close. I think we should – " "Thank you Vanessa," Jean-Jacques interjected. "It is obviously imperative that we proceed with the utmost caution. Our enemies – as yet unknown, I remind you – possess magic that is beyond anything we could achieve ourselves. It is likely that there will be many more traps before we locate them."

The rage welling up inside her nearly made her want to hack his head off, but Vanessa managed to bite it down. She nodded with what she hoped was mild agreement. "Can I suggest that I take the lead?" the blonde asked. "If they take me out by surprise, that'll leave the two strongest people in the party to finish this." Jean-Jacques put his hand to his mouth and looked thoughtful. "Agreed," he said, after a moment. He stood back to let her pass. She smiled briefly at him. Dominique arched an eyebrow, but made a sweeping motion to indicate that she could take the lead. Vanessa nodded once.

The three Ringbearers continued through the murk, dark and dirt. The silence was oppressive. Vanessa's senses sharpened the more they walked. A bat flew a random jagged path in the distance, causing her to gasp and take a tighter hold of her sword. The others did not notice. Soon enough the cave widened out again to form what looked like a huge natural amphitheatre, stretching a hundred feet into the gloom. A series of wide ledges skirted the arena like scaffolding. The blonde could not see up to the highest three. Several torches lit the scene perfectly; Vanessa turned off her night vision.  She put her right hand out behind her to stop the others, inadvertently taking a handful of Dominique's right breast.

A fist like an anvil rocketed into the small of her back, knocking the Englishwoman flat to the floor. Her breath fled her lungs in a big choking rush, and her sword shattered the silence by flopping around like a fish. Jean-Jacques grabbed his countrywoman's wrist, stopping her from doing Vanessa any more damage. The blonde sat up, taking quick deep breaths, before searching on hands and knees for her weapon.

"Well!" a crowing female voice echoed down. All three Ringbearers' eyes searched wildly for its owner. "There!" Jean-Jacques cried, pointing to a figure standing proud on a ledge some sixty feet above them. It was difficult to judge given the perspective, but she must have been eight feet tall and nearly as wide. "The Ringbearers fight amongst themselves," she sneered. "A fine sight." Vanessa scrambled to her feet, fists itching. The woman above them ran for the edge and leaped off, spinning gracefully through the air like an Olympic diver. She landed on her feet in the centre of the arena.

The trio's jaws dropped simultaneously. The woman was magnificent: even Jean-Jacques' hypertrophied physique was a pale shadow of this woman's inhuman form. She was naked save for a black leather collar, somehow keeping her bull's neck in check. Her massive traps were threatening the material as well. Everything below her neck was built out of big blocks of superhuman strength: arms like breeze blocks tied together, pecs like computer printers, her abdomen a horror show of distended muscle. Her legs were immense, like the trunks of giant redwoods. Any trace of femininity she may once have had had been sacrificed on the altar of mass. Her peroxide blonde hair was cut into a short bob, but that was not the worst of it.

Her eyes were completely black.

"A Collarwearer," Jean-Jacques breathed, lowering his sword in awe.

— To Be Continued —

OK, the preview looks good… here we go! 😮

[Fonk]

I'm on holiday now, so I should hopefully be able to rocket through the remaining translations and bring scat's excellent work to a wider audience. Enjoy, and my thanks to him for providing such ace material to work with. 😀

New Generation 5

"I don't understand… I don't remember anything!" I cried.

"You shouldn't even remember Irina!" Gilles replied, frowning and glancing inquisitively at his daughter. He turned back to me and continued. "You were drugged and hypnotised."

"What!" I exclaimed. "You mean to say you drugged me? You, my friend?" Gilles lowered his head.

"Don't worry, it won't happen again. In any case, I had no choice."

Normally questions would have been fizzing around my head like fireworks but I wasn't really in a position to think: whilst Adriana and Natacha were caressing my arms and legs, Irina was delicately massaging my temples. Their delicate fingers drained my stress, doubts and questions away. Even my strength was leaving me bit by bit. It felt like I was floating: put simply, I felt good. I even started to doze.

Gilles sighed. He emptied his glass in one gulp and slammed it back on the table. I just about managed to open my eyelids. He waved his daughters out of the room. They stood up immediately and disappeared down the hall. Then he began to stare at me and continued.

"I was reading the paper one day when, quite by chance, I came upon an article concerning your trail for theft. I remembered the years we spent together. So, in the name of our old friendship, I sent Irina to get you out of the mess. She brought you here, just like Adriana did today. Normally, we would have ended the day with a meal, as friends; I would have called a taxi and that would have been the end of it."

At that moment I started to wake up. Questions marched through my head, mixed up with the events of the day: Adriana, the coffee, muscles, Gilles's daughters, more muscles, glances, skirts, shoes, still more muscles, the intoxicating movements of thighs… I shook my head in an attempt to get these thoughts out of my mind. It didn't work, of course. Gilles continued.

"The fact is that when you arrived, you lost consciousness. We left you in a guest bedroom. You slept all night and woke up the next day, around mid-morning. In the castle, everyone goes about their own business, so much so that no-one paid any attention to you… not knowing where you were, I suppose… you wanted to explore on your own. You walked around the castle, then the gardens and after that… after that you saw things you shouldn't have seen – " I interrupted Gilles.

"That's why you erased my memory!"

"Exactly!"

"But… why tell me all this today?"

"You'll have the chance to mull that over tonight!" Gilles exclaimed, wearing a small smile.

I was getting ready to fire my questions at Gilles when Natacha reappeared in the room. I sat still for a moment before crossing my legs to hide my growing erection. I don't know what got me going, that time: the sight of her muscular body barely hidden behind a thin silk nightdress or the memory of her fingers, a few moments before, chopping a log the width of my thigh. She wasn't even doing anything seductive: she was just smiling as she approached.

When she was next to us, Gilles got up to wish her good night. I did the same. Natacha stood in front of her father and I couldn't help but notice the difference in size. He stood up very straight and there was about four inches between the top of his head and the undersides of his daughter's breasts. I imagined myself in his place, my eyes at the same level as her impenetrable abs. She lifted her father up by the armpits and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

"Good night papa," she said. "Mum will be here shortly."

Why hadn't I thought of it sooner! Gilles had not had his daughters alone. There was always going to be a Mrs. Grampier!

He turned to me as Natacha lifted me from the ground to wish me a good night as well.

"You haven't met my wife, Svetlana, have you?"

I couldn't reply. Natacha had delicately thrust her tongue into my mouth. I was getting drunk on the most sensual kiss you could imagine. You'd have no chance of imagining one like it if you haven't lived through one. My arms dangled limply, my feet pinwheeled. I felt my heart beating the blood around my body. My head fell back, hurting my traps. I felt generous waves of pleasure all down my spinal column, causing me to spasm and moan. My totally exposed throat reminded me how weak and vulnerable I was; however, as it got warmer every time Natacha breathed, it felt an intense pleasure. I abandoned myself to this fantasy creature completely and closed my eyes. I even forgot that my friend was watching.

"Alban! Alban?" Gilles repeated. "This is Svetlana!"

I couldn't tell you how long it was before I came back to my senses, but Natacha had already left. Gilles was sitting in his wife's arms and the pair were sitting in the armchair. He had stretched his arms around the muscular body of his wife and covered her neck with kisses. I was not surprised at the sight of Svetlana. What sort of woman could have given birth to girls like Adriana, Irina or Natacha? Only a goddess! If it hadn't been for the difference in age, Svetlana was identical in every way to her daughters: incredibly sexy, tall, well-muscled, spell-binding.

She began the conversation.

"Good night, Alban," she said, smiling.

"Good night!" I responded, blinking a few times. As I had trouble opening my eyes, she burst out laughing.

"You look exhausted. I think you should go to bed… Natacha will show you to your room." Before I could react, I felt myself getting taller… I hadn't realised I was in Natacha's arms. Immediately I cried out in surprise, which made everyone laugh. Everyone except me, of course, because I was so embarrassed. Natacha ran her fingers gently through my hair. Gilles made sure to reassure me:

"You'll see, you'll get used to it!" He held on to his wife as she put an enormous hand on to his body to delicately caress his arm with her fingertips. He looked at me for one last time, closed his eyes and sighed. "Good night, Alban.

"Good night!"

Natacha headed for the hall without a word. She had put a hand under my butt and was carrying me like a child, using her free hand to close the door of the lounge. She crossed the hall in a few steps before taking a huge white marble staircase which lead to several floors. You would have needed a staircase like that to support my hostess's weight which, despite her enormous muscles mass, moved with exceptional grace. As she climbed the steps I stared at the floor, noting how the marble flagstones seemed so small from this height. I looked up from time to time when we passed windows so that I could see Natacha's quadriceps contracting in the reflection. As we passed more and more windows I got more and more excited. I was eager for her to put me down before my erection got to its fullest. She carried on without saying anything and made it, finally, to a long corridor with several bedrooms coming off it. She paused in front of the first door.

"This is my room!" she said. Then she took a few steps to the next door along. "And this one is yours!" she continued. "If you need anything…" She stopped and went into my room.

Once inside she headed directly to the bed. The sheets had been pulled back for the occasion, so she put my down there. She leaned over me and quietly removed the few clothes I had on. Speechless, I looked at her without saying or doing anything except, perhaps, staring at the opulent chest that she was exposing to me. This time I couldn't fight it: my sex went hard instantly, straight and true. I felt waves of shame drowning me, along with fear.

"I… I'm sorry, Natacha. You are so beautiful."

She didn't reply. Instead, she moved lower until the tips of her nipples came into contact with my shivering skin. Then she moved downward, over my chest and stomach. She didn't stop until my penis was held prisoner inside her two enormous mammaries. This done, she slowly contracted her pectorals and started to stand up. I felt my lower back, and then the rest of me, come away from the bed. Soon I was being held up by my penis so I threw my arms around her neck. She stood up straight and, placing her hands on her thighs, said in a mocking tone of voice:

"Come now, you must go to bed… you've got to get your strength back for tomorrow!"

As she spoke she delicately massaged my penis by contracting her pectorals with diabolical precision. She made it look like she wasn't even noticing, and the idea that she could play with me like this excited me more. I'd put my feet on her thighs and pushed to try and get away, but it was no use. It was too much! The idea that she could dominate me like this without even paying attention pushed me over the edge. I closed my mouth so as not to cry out and ejaculated violently between her breasts.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and laid me back in the bed again without saying anything more. Then she kissed my forehead and headed towards the door.

"Breakfast is at eight o'clock! I'll be waiting for you," she said, closing the door. "Good night… and sweet dreams."

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