[Fonk]

Thanks for joining! There's a lot to enjoy around these parts, and we're all looking forward to what you have to contribute. Just remember to enjoy yourself. 😉

[Fonk]

Hee! Beautiful! ;D

[Fonk]

She could kick my ass any time! ;D

[Fonk]

Peek-a-boob, surely?

(sorry – couldn't resist! ;D)

[Fonk]

Good work, carry on! 😉

[Fonk]

I love your Incredibles drawing! 😀

[Fonk]

Here's part 4!

In a fraction of a second, the memory of the hearing came flooding back to me.

…

"Bring in the first witness!" The lawyer turned to the official charged with the task of bringing the witnesses in, and smiled. He went towards the door and threw it wide open. Immediately, he froze. He stood there, slack-jawed, for a moment. Then, without looking away from the witness, he stood back against the wall to let the person pass. While he flattened himself against the mouldings lining the walls, you could hear the characteristic sound of pumps on the marble floor. Everyone turned to look.

"He's never seen a real live girl!" I thought, looking at the officer.

When the witness finally appeared in the doorway, everyone was already looking at her. Well, I couldn't tell if everyone was looking at her, because I was too.

"Good Lord!"

You could have heard a pin drop, though I think even the pins would have been stunned into silence. She took one step forward, and then stopped.

A tall blonde with endless legs stood, arms dangling, framed by the door. She was adorned with a magnificent chest, which was covered by a short – very short – red dress. Her big blue eyes swept the room until she was looking right at me. I wanted to lower my head as it was difficult to hold her stare, but I couldn't do it! I was impressed… no. I was hypnotised!

Armed with her high heels, she must have been about seven foot two and, judging from her musculature, weigh around 250 kilos. Her broad shoulders kept her enormous arms in check – her muscles glowed in the light. Her deltoids were like two bowling balls stuck to her vast, muscly chest. Her large and powerful back accentuated the slightness of her waist, making her incredibly sexy. Or maybe it was because her dress was cut to show off every detail of her anatomy. It was made of scarlet velvet: ideal for displaying light and shade, showing off her powerful abdominals. Just long enough to hide her underwear, it meant that the enormous mass of muscle that were her flexed quads were totally on view. The officer had just fainted, and I noticed that his head looked ridiculously tiny compared to the woman's inflated calves.

She opened her mouth, fleshy like a well-ripened fruit, and breathed in slowly. Her chest inflated slowly as the air rushed into her lungs. The material of her dress stretched too. Soon, a creaking sound signalled that the dress wasn't going to take it any more. Still her chest inflated, forcing her breasts to look for the space that was so lacking under the fabric. She put a hand to her mouth, palm upwards. Then she blew a kiss in my direction. I heard the sound of the crowd trying to get its breath back all around me.

Thousands of questions were running through my head at once, but the one that cropped up most often was "Why me?"

She saw the official lying on the floor and looked at his feet. The whole room was, I'm sure, waiting impatiently to see how she would react. To my great surprise, she looked back at me. This time, she was smiling amusedly.

"Oh! The little man! He's fallen over!"

Taking care to keep her legs straight, she leaned over slowly, never once looking away from me. She searched the floor with a hand whilst keeping her other arm behind her to keep her balance. She took the man by the collar and stood up, just as slowly as she'd leaned over, still looking at me. Inexorably she stood, holding the limp body of the officer. The sensation of power she gave off was so strong that we were all bathed in it. I felt myself trembling a little with excitement. There wasn't a noise, not a word… nothing. However, now she was standing upright, she held the man out at arm's length, his feet dangling half a metre from the floor. She came up to me and placed his body on the seat next to mine. There were seats everywhere, though! I wasn't totally surprised when she stopped next to me. I was as red as her dress! I don't know why – maybe it was because, during all of the little scene, I had forgotten to breathe?!

She looked at the judge. Petrified, the judge's arm was still indicating the doorway through which she had just arrived, his hand trembling. He tried to say a few words… unsuccessfully. So, with his trembling hand, he grabbed a glass of water and brought it to his lips. Drips of the precious liquid spattered on his lips and the court records on his desk. He stuttered something incomprehensible for a few seconds before lowering his eyes to ignore everyone looking at him, trying to save the documents that could be saved. Then he invited the woman to the bar with a hand gesture.

She stood up again, running her hands up her neck, throwing her long blonde hair out. Her enormous biceps flexed just beneath my eyes. I was so close that I could almost hear the gurgling of the blood in her veins. I moved my hand forward to touch the engorged muscle, but stopped myself at the last minute. As I saw her leave, I sighed dejectedly.

                …

"State your name, please."

"Irina Startova!"

"Address and profession?"

"94, rue des Quatre Rois – that's Four Kings Road – masseuse!"

The audience gasped, amplified by the room's acoustics: "Oooooooooooh!!"

Everyone reacted to the announcement that had just been made. She was a masseuse! Married men tried to discreetly memorise the address so that they could book an appointment. The single men, or the more daring, got their diaries out. Only a few, horrified by Irina's impressive musculature, were grimacing strangely to show their disgust.

"We're listening!" the judge declared. "… especially as your testimony is vitally important, according to Mr. Pollace."

The lawyer gave a faint smile. He looked at Irina and nodded his head, indicating that she should start her account. She smiled at me, and then turned to the judge.

"OK! First of all, I must tell you that Alban – I mean, Mr. Naudin – is innocent!"

"We'll decide that matter!" the judge interrupted her. "Continue!"

"Alright then! At the time he is supposed to have committed the robbery, Alban – I mean, Mr. Naudin – was with me!"

"Sorry?" the judge exclaimed. He had put both hands on his desk, elbows lifted and neck leaning forward, to make sure that he had heard her response. If he had looked at me, he would certainly have seen that I was as surprised as he was. His eyes, though, were fixed on Irina.

Mr. Pollace put a hand on my shoulder: "Don't look so surprised, my boy!"

Irina continued. "Yes, Alban – I mean – "

"Yes, yes!" the judge interrupted again. "Call him 'Alban' if you wish and let's get back to the night in question!"

"We spent the night together until the early hours of the morning. And that's a fact."

This time, the judge and I spoke at the same time: "What?!"

The judge looked from Irina to me and back, then settled on me. "You seem rather surprised, young man! And why did you not mention this before?"

"I – I…"

"He didn't want anyone to know!" Irina replied. "And I'd promised him I wouldn't say anything. Which is why he's so surprised."

"But why the devil were you trying to hide your relationship?"

"I don't know! Ask him… although, I do have a little theory on the subject. Allow me to explain." She turned to me and beckoned me to her.

"Hurry up, young man! Quickly, now!" the judge commanded.

I stood up and went towards her. When I was close enough she lifted me up by the waist and put me down between her and the judge. She turned me round, not allowing me to move, so that the judge and the audience could see us both. The judge cocked his head sideways, like a dog curious about something. So Irina pressed herself against me. She put a hand on my head and then put the other on her own, to show off our difference in height.

"Do you understand?" she said. "Do you know many men who would be fine with this?" I felt ridiculous, humiliated even. So I tried something.

"It's not true! Totally untrue! You're not going to believe this, are you?" She kept one hand on my head and covered my mouth with the other, taking care not to cover my eyes so that I could see everything.

"Quiet, honey! It's too late! Everyone knows!" She looked at the judge. "He hates this more than anything else in the world."

On saying that she took me by the wrist and lifted her arm towards the ceiling. In a fraction of a second I found myself hanging by the wrist, my feet dangling in the air some seventy centimetres from the floor. She turned towards the audience, carrying me with her and shaking me like a rag doll. It didn't last long. With her free hand, she took hold of my neck and kissed me. It was our first kiss. I wanted to kiss her so much since I first saw her that I also grabbed her neck and abandonned myself to my most primal impulses. Our embrace lasted so long that I started to suffocate. I tried to get free but without success: she was holding me so tight that I got tired trying to fight. I realised that my life was in her hands so I started to gesticulate wildly. It was no use! She laughed at my efforts. I resigned myself to my fate: as my strength left me, tears ran down my cheeks. It was then that she relaxed her hold. I opened my mouth wide to get air back into my lungs. I couldn't think about anything other than living. As I got my breath back, unable to speak, she took me in her arms like a baby and whispered in my ear.

"Not a word, otherwise…" She didn't need to finish her sentence. She hugged me so tightly that I thought all my bones would crack. She cut off my circulation. Once again I opened my mouth wide but this time the air couldn't get in. I started to go red.

Irina continued to smile at the judge, not showing the slightest bit of fatigue, whilst I was dying of suffocaton in her arms. She kept up the pressure as she waited for a reaction from the judge. She rocked me like a baby and kissed my forehead from time to time. I had gone scarlet. Irina relaxed her pressure occasionally, slightly, and I breathed in irregular spasms, making it look like I had cried too much.

"Look," she said. "He's so ashamed! He's gone all read. He's sobbing. Poor baby!" The judge stood up.

"I think we've seen enough! Mr. Naudin, you are free to go. Clerk! Do the necessary…"

Nobody in the room had moved. In the most total silence, Irina walked through the courtroom, holding me in her arms, and left.

…

I looked anxiously at Gilles.

"I remember the audience! But why had there been a trial? Why?"

[Fonk]

OK, part 3!

New Generation Part 3

You could make out the slate-grey roof of the Grampier Mansion through the branches of the stunted or leafless trees that lined the walls of the property. The great building had been at the heart of the family's history since the Crusades. It had been the object of great love; loss, too. Even envy. For the moment, it was undergoing a huge restoration project – it was easy to understand why, given the state of the walls.

Besides the scaffolding covering part of the frontage, a few garrets, dotted here and there on the great dark expanse of the roof, allowed one to imagine the size of the property. It would have been tricky to describe the building as being from any particular architectural style. Since its construction, styles had come and gone like owners – chronologically! That was as much as you could say. The indescribable building cheerfully sat next to the fascinating beauty of the gardens and fountains that surrounded it.

As we approached it, the imposing, sombre building seemed to melt around us. The roof, whose black form called to mind a bat ready to swoop on its victim, froze my blood.

"Well, that's the Grampiers for you! They always have to go too far," I thought.

The sound of the tyres on gravel told me that we had left the road, and I turned away from the mansion. Behind us a large wrought iron gate sank slowly into the great clouds of dust our passage was throwing up. The sparkle of the low sunlight on the iron coupled with the fiery dust dancing around the gate and the crackle of the gravel gave the scene a sinister air. I had the impression that I was going to meet the Devil himself.

Adriana sounded the horn to signal our arrival and we drove forward a few metres. She threw me an amused glance whilst she drove around the traditional roundabout that these places all seem to have. When she saw the face I was making, she had to stop herself laughing. So much for hiding my discomfort!

Once we were at the foot of the stairs that marked the entrance, the car stopped dead, also silencing the crackling of the flames of Hell. I got out quickly, just to take in a few lungfuls of fresh air. The wind was blowing harder than it had been. The leaves were rustling and branches struck the rusted metal of the scaffolding violently. The oldest trees, steadfast, contented themselves with stretching their foliage over my head whilst their sly shadows swooped around me. As I got out of the heavy atmosphere that had grown up in the car, I arrived in a place that was just as worrying. Finally I remembered its name: the Malemort Estate.

                              …

Adriana came up behind me and pressed her body to mine. I felt her breasts press heavily on my head.

"Don't be scared!" she said. "It's only me!"

Without saying anything else, she took me in her arms, climbed the stairs and then put me down. Then, smiling, she indicated the door with a tiny movement of her hand. I looked for the doorbell but did not find it as the door opened wide. If memory serves, I think my jaw dropped at the same time. A large young woman, an exact copy of Adriana, was standing next to the open door, sporting a huge smile. As I could not speak, Adriana made the introductions.

"My sister, Irina! Irina, this is Alban Naudin, the – "

"We've already met!" she said, laughing. As my eyes went wide, she smiled. "My father will tell you everything – but don't stand there! Come in!"

The women asked me to follow them and I did so without a word.

They crossed the hall with surprisingly small strides, their muscular thighs shackled in their short form-fitting dresses, their high heels clicking loudly on the marble tiles. I felt the shockwaves of their steps carry up to my shoulders. In fact, even when they stopped in front of the door that led to the living room, I was still shaking.

Adriana pushed me into a huge room, richly decorated, where a fire was crackling. A chambermaid was crouching in front of the hearth. She was trying to get the fire going again by blowing on it. On seeing us, she stood up slowly.

"Oh my God!" I cried. Adriana put a hand on my head, as if to reassure me.

"May I present Natacha – my sister."

Natacha, now upright, was facing me, one hand on her thigh, the other on a thick log that she was holding by the middle. She was a real goddess – just as muscular as her sisters, maybe even a bit bigger! She was wearing a small, figure-hugging black leather dress. It was so short you could make out her lacy underwear. Legs firmly planted, she kept her powerful quads contracted to highlight, if they needed to be, the muscles of her thighs. She had flexed her abdominals and was breathing in slowly to expand her chest. Her back, flaring as she breathed, was incredibly large and the straps of her white apron were not going to resist much longer. It slid slowly to the floor and pooled at her feet. She tore, in one smooth movement, the little bobble that was restraining her long blonde hair. She shook her head to breathe life into her hair. She looked at her sister with a smile and then spoke to me.

"Sit down, Alban. My father will be here shortly."

She took the log in two hands and dug her fingers into it – CRAAACK! – and it split in half without the slightest resistance. Natacha threw the two pieces into the fire and without a glance walked towards the hall.

"I'll call Papa!" she said.

"There's no need! I'm here."

"Gilles!" I went toward my friend. "Gilles!" I repeated.

"Goodness!" he exclaimed. "You sound like a little boy who's just seen his mother after his first day at school!" he said, smiling. He put his hands on my shoulders, and we stood there for a moment, saying nothing. Then he spoke.

"You're wondering why you're here? Aren't you?" He paused. "Don't you remember anything? No, of course!" Another pause. "I will tell you everything, but first, make yourself at home!"

At that instant, Adriana put one hand on my back and the other under my legs, lifting me effortlessly. She took me to an armchair and placed me in it delicately. Then, sitting on the ground at my right, she started to run her hands through my hair. Her sister, Natacha, was about to pass me a glass of Cognac. As she was standing next to me, pressed up against the chair, I could feel the hem of her dress above my head. The thought of her small white lace panties, prisoner of her enormous thighs, so close to me, excited me instantly. I took the glass she was holding and lowered my head so I wouldn't blush. She sat in front of me on the floor. She took me shoes off without undoing the laces and then, putting a finger to her lips, signalled me that I shouldn't move. When she started to delicately massage my feet, I shot Gilles an interrogatory glance. He smiled.

"Well, now you've made yourself at home!" He paused. "Do you remember the trial?"

"The trial? What trial?"

"Yours, of course!"

"Erm… no."

Gilles called Irina. While he started to tell me the story, I heard the steps of his daughter approaching. When she finally appeared in the doorway, the memory came to me.

"The hearing! So it wasn't a dream!"

[Fonk]

She certainly has a special place in my heart! Thanks you! 8)

[Fonk]

Nice experiment – I definitely prefer the new Saria over the old one. 😉

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