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kind of. The characters Jinn Skye, Mayim Aquus, Chaude Stryke, and Prauge Gutrot all represent various aspects of my personality, though their relatedness to me shifts slightly from story to story. It isn't actually the same character every time. I guess that you could say that every version is a parallel of each other.

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I feel like making a smart ass comment.

I just can't think of one right now.  😉

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Just one question:  what is a "platue breaker"?  You mentioned it at the end of your post.

I can answer that one. Generally speaking, when you are talking about building muscle by working out, you eventually reach what is called a plateau. Basically, it means that you've reached a point in your work outs where you aren't really building that much more muscle than you already had. I guess that you could say that it's kind of a stopping point.

A plateau breaker, therefore, is something that will get you over that hurdle to the next level.

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It's true that there's no dialogue, but that was intentional. I was writing this as if the main character was telling a story from long ago. I don't know about you, but when I try to remember something that happened years ago, I can't remember anything that anyone said back then. I may remember the gist of what they are saying, but not the exact words. And the reason that I didn't go into the learning experiences is because i wanted it to be done by my birthday and to hit my 400th post. Writing it took longer than I thought so, as usual with my stories, I had to rush the ending.

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I continued working at the drug store and went to my classes. She continued with her classes and came into my store every so often for her usual purchase of weight reducing products. Things continued as they had for so long, going through the same boring routine day after day after day. That is, until Finals season started.

As with anything extremely stressful, people can do odd things to relieve said stress. Some people resort to drugs, others retreat into the various other worlds within video games, role playing games, and books. Still others begin to work out more often, putting their bodies through torture to relieve their minds, while a few torture their bodies in other ways, gorging themselves with snacks and sweets, letting their health deteriorate little by little.

I, as I usually do when confronted with something incredibly stressful, had my usual bout of insomnia. Thankfully, it wasn’t true insomnia. When I needed to, I could get to sleep (though more often than not it involved relieving stress by killing zombies in my video games for about three hours). So, while tired most of the time, I could still keep my act together.

Mayim, however, wasn’t so lucky. It seemed that her already odd habits intensified as we got closer and closer to finals. She became more reclusive, not even saying “hi” to me when she came into the store. She seemed to always be distracted with something. Several times, she would get a panicked look on her face and bolt for the nearest exit, looking as if she were straining against her own body, forcing it to move. She claimed that she was about to throw up (or otherwise get sick) every one of those times, but I wasn’t so sure.

Every observation that I had made about her earlier in the semester came back into focus when paired with her odd new behavior. She rarely sat with anyone, and when she did, she didn’t talk much, if at all. She ate even less now, but her body still retained its level of fitness. It looked, at times, almost as if it had become more athletic, flat-out buff, really, despite her lack of nutrition. And, of course, her clothes were still baggy, a little more so now, if anything else. Things just got weirder and weirder as time went on.

Eventually, due to the impending tests, I had to take several weeks off of work to study properly. My academic studies, however, did not distract me from my “social studies”. I paid closer attention to Mayim as she became more and more agitated the closer we got to the exam dates.

Eventually, the reason for her strange actions came to light, though I’m fairly certain that I was the only person to actually realize what was going on.

A couple of days before finals, she finally couldn’t hold back whatever her problems were and she came dangerously close to divulging her secret in a most inconvenient location.

I went into a local cafeteria for a late dinner. I had been studying for most of the evening, until about nine o’clock, by my guess. There were relatively few people there at the time, most students long since relocating to the various libraries and study halls that dotted our fair campus, so that much was fortunate.

Much to my surprise, Mayim was sitting at a table not to far from where I was, wearing a sleeveless tank top, studying with a friend. I don’t know which surprised me more, the fact that she wasn’t being reclusive for once, the fact that she wasn’t wearing her usual baggy clothes, or the fact that she actually was sitting with someone and conversing with them.

Regardless, not more than a second after I finished my food (if it could be called that) I felt that something was… well… wrong. There was something out of place in the room. My vision flicked over to Mayim for a second, moved on, then did a double take.

Mayim’s face was a mask of pain. Watching it was about as agonizing as the pain that she was probably feeling. She let out a moan of pain, quickly excused herself, and then made a quick break for the front door. She left as fast as possible, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Like I said, no one else may have been able to figure out what was going on, but I could. As she passed by, I caught a glimpse of her arm, which she was struggling to keep covered with her other arm. What I saw was enough to make my jaw drop. On her previously toned arm, covered by thickening veins, were her biceps, a swollen, pulsing mass of dense muscle.

In the instant that I saw that one image, everything clicked. Why she was such a loner, why she behaved and ate so oddly, not to mention why her body seemed to change almost daily. Her body must be in a constant state of flux between an average woman and a muscle-bound goddess.

I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be possible, but from everything that I had seen, it was. It had to be. How else could you explain what I just saw?

As soon as I came back to my senses, I took off through the door that she left through. At first, I thought that I was afraid that I would lose her, but it turned out that the pain that her apparent change was causing her slowed her down enough for me to see her turn a corner at the end of the block. I chased after her, trying my best to keep up.

While her pain may have been debilitating at first, it certainly wasn’t anymore. It seemed that she was well into her transformation, and, with her strength picking up, she was going faster and faster. Soon, I was keeping up with her shadow, not her. Thankfully, she didn’t get to far ahead. She was within my range of sight when she finally collapsed in the middle of one of the many deserted landscaped parks, completely succumbing to the change, which was now visible, even from this distance.

I continued running, feeling myself getting more and more aroused at the thought of what I was about to witness. I was about to live out my dream!

I finally got to the park, just as the good part was getting underway. I hid behind one of the bushes and got ready to enjoy the show.

She was writhing on the ground groaning in pain as the change fully took control of her body. In no time, her entire body was twitching and swelling with muscle. Although I could only see her arms at the moment, seeing them gave me a good idea of what was happening beneath her rippling clothing.

Veins spread across her shifting flesh, feeding her engorged muscles, making them swell larger, get harder, bulge enough to strain the clothing. I watched as the toned bicep of one arm stretched to match the first arm to change, the one that I had seen in the cafeteria. The growth spread from her biceps to her triceps, then split into two directions, part of the growth moved into her forearms, the other into her shoulders.

Her forearms spread, getting harder and more defined, the muscles thickening into iron-strong cables of might. The tendons thickened and the bones grew. Her hands spread out, doubling in size in mere seconds.

Her shoulders spread out as well, swelling and dividing into three separate heads. As her arms continued to grow, her deltoids pushed out, broadening her shoulders into something that would make any linebacker jealous. Her swollen shoulders were the first thing to begin the destruction of her clothes, stretching out the top of her tank top.

Her cries of agony echoed from the trees of the park as the change continued its brutal assault on her body. She now looked a little oddly formed, her much larger arms now hanging down close to the ground, making the rest of her body look oddly small, but it didn’t stay that way for long.

Sounds of pleasure mixed into her cries of pain as the change continued from her arms down into the rest of her body, changing more… sensitive areas. Her chest expanded first, the muscle building before her breasts began to grow at all. More ropes of muscle bulged and twisted about her torso, changing it into a much grander design. Her pecs thickened, stretching out her shapely tits, mashing them flat and pushing against her tank top.

Her abs rippled beneath her shirt, moving it, showing the pattern of the mutating muscle beneath it, if not the muscle itself. At the same time, her back began to flare out, pulling her shirt in every direction, stretching it completely taut. I could now see the defined muscles of her front or back, whichever she wasn’t lying on at the time, pressed tightly against her tank top. I could see every twitch, every bulge, every ripple as they continued to swell.

It wasn’t until the changes reached the base of her abdominals did she get any real pleasure out of the pain. Upon reaching the top of her pelvic region, her breasts began to swell and grow, driving even more pleasure into the transformation, almost completely overwhelming the pain. Her tits bloated slower than her muscles had, but that only drove the pleasure on longer.

Soon after her boobs began to grow, the change apparently drove its way deep into her moistening sex, strengthening her vaginal muscles, because she soon exhibited all of the signs of orgasm for no apparent reason. Her abs twitched, her legs buckled, and a primal roar of lust, just like what I had heard that first night, tore its way from her lips.

One of her gargantuan hands soon drove its way into her sensitive folds, keeping the pleasure going. As the change continued, her breasts continued to swell with a pulsing motion, each throb moving her nipples across the overtaxed fabric of her tank top, forcing them to grow longer and more rigid with each passing second. With her other large hand, she reached up and squeezed one, letting out another roar of mixed pleasure and pain.

But the change was far from over. Incredibly tight though her top may be, her lower half really hadn’t changed all that much. Yet. With another orgasmic spasm, the change moved down into her buttocks, forcing a radical change in the topography of her backside. It swelled and bulged outward, rounding, hardening, forming into the perfect amazonian shape. But it didn’t take on that smooth, flawless quality at first. It wasn’t until the transformation hit her legs that she got that sleek, sexy look that is so well modeled in the beautiful flexing of the muscles of a hunting cat.

Her hamstrings bulged out first, soon followed by her quads. Veins showed up against the fabric of her jeans in stark relief as the hardening muscle underneath pushed ever upwards, swelling with such force that the seams of her jeans popped and creaked in protest, nearly splitting all the way. Her claves then joined the fun, forming a perfect diamond shape, nearly bursting through the lower part of her jeans.

Her feet finally finished the main part of the transformation, stretching and growing so forcefully that they snapped the straps of her flip-flops, completely overshadowing what was left of them with their mass.

The change finished up by furthering the growth of all that had changed so far, making everything grow bigger, thicker, harder, and more defined. She stood up and as she did so, she began flexing, just like she did that first night, although she didn’t seem to be conscious of doing it.

The beautiful sound of ripping fabric filled the night as her diamond-hard muscles shredded through her flimsy clothing. With a final roar, the change finally ended. The sight that greeted my eyes was nothing short of amazing.

There she was, the lights of the nearby street showing her body in stark relieve, everything being pretty much black or white.

Strips of fabric hung from her body like streamers, not really covering anything save for her crotch. She now stood at least six foot six, possibly taller, every inch covered with beautifully sculpted muscle. She stood in the odd lighting, panting heavily, muscles twitching randomly.

Every muscle was clearly cut and defined, straining against the skin, not giving as much as a micrometer of slack. There was not an ounce of fat on her body, let alone any soft curve, save for her now bulbous breasts, each one at least as big as a basketball, each one floating weightlessly on each pec.

Thick veins crisscrossed every bulge of every muscle, feeding them with nourishing blood. The whole image was one that I doubt that I could have conjured in my wildest fantasies.

Soon after heat from the change had left her, she regained her breath and straightened to her full height. Without warning, her head swung around towards where I was, staring straight at me. Suddenly it dawned on me that, during the excitement I had stood up to get a better view. I was out in the open. And she saw me.

All hints of arousal fled from both my mind and body as she sprang towards me, a low growl escaping from her lips.

I didn’t even bother to try to run. She tore through the feeble shield that the brush in front of me provided and grabbed me by the shirt.

With one hand, she lifted me clearly from the ground, her arm barely even showing the slightest hint of effort as she held me steady almost a foot from the ground. She stared into my eyes for a few seconds, reveling in the fear that was quite obviously there. She smiled evilly before speaking. I can’t recall the exact words at the time, but what she said went along the lines of “You found out my little secret, now you’re going to die. No one’s going to know what kind of freak I am this time.”

When a muscular blonde that weighs at least three, maybe four times what you do, out of pure muscle, and is holding you aloft by one hand, you typically don’t think straight if at all. Typically, you’d be doing your best to try to put you head between you legs and kiss your ass good-bye. But, thankfully, one thing separates me from most other people: I happen to love amazons. I was just scared witless for a moment.

I grasped at the first fleeting thought that came to my mind. Just before she was about to unleash a devastating punch that would have split my skull at best, I made a remark about her awesome beauty. It stopped her in her tracks, though she looked doubtful.

I had quite a time convincing her that my thinking of her as beautiful woman were sincere, but I finally convinced her to, if not believe me, then to trust me long enough to prove it.

Together with my new friend, we snuck back to where my dorm was and used the fire escape to get to my room. I don’t think that I had ever been so grateful to be without a roommate. I tried to get her inside as quietly as possible, but you try to get a six and a half foot amazon through a widow that was considered small for me. Eventually, she was able to get inside. If she had grown any more, it would have been impossible.

I turned on my computer and showed her exactly what I meant when I had said that I adored muscular women, that they were the biggest turn on for me and that I truly did fantasize about women growing in the way that she just did.

It took over an hour to go over all of the information, to adequately prove that I did truly mean what I said. When it was all done with, Mayim just stood there numbly, staring at the images on the computer screen. With a thunderous crash, she fell backwards and sat on my bed, shaking the floor and rattling the windows of the building.

Without any warning, she put her head in her hands and began to weep uncontrollably. I sat there, waiting for her emotions to play themselves out. Finally, when she had calmed down a bit, I moved over to the bed and sat next to her, resting my hand on her incredibly hard shoulder. I had to fight my initial reaction to the touch. I dearly wanted to screw her brains out at the moment, but now wasn’t the time for such a bold move.

She finally stopped crying, revealing to me her whole, sad story. She was born with this curse; a mutation in her genetic code that caused her body to produce and digest everything in irregular intervals, generally muscle tissue, but, as had been demonstrated upon hitting puberty, the mammalian fat tissue that makes up the teats was something else that was produced. And then, again at random intervals, her metabolism would increase unbelievably to remove all that was added. And the pain that was associated with the change was not something that the body normally did. It resulted from her own resistance to the transformation.

It was something that defied what should be biologically possible, but it happened regardless. All through her life, she was shunned because of this mutation. Even her parents held her at a distance as she was growing up. Never once did she meet anyone who did not view her as a freak. And finally she had. She could finally let go of all of that pain, of all of the agony that she had held inside of her for so long. Now she could enjoy the changes, like she did when she was little, before the shadow of prejudice had darkened her life. She could once again revel in the feeling of power as it flooded her body. She could once again find the pleasure in the change and in the strength.

Not long after this revelation was made, she turned towards me, her eyes meeting mine. I would take someone who had been blind from birth to not see the shine of pure, never-before-released lust in her eyes. And even if you missed the gleam in her eyes, the tone of her voice said everything.

She practically dove on top of me, ripping my clothes from my body in one of the most erotic moves that I could have ever imagined. I watched her muscles strain slightly as they tore the denim of my jeans and the fabric of my shirt to shreds. Thankfully, she kept enough of her wits about her to properly pull off my shoes, otherwise that could have gotten nasty, but she ripped my socks and undergarments off just as she had done with my jeans and shirt. She didn’t even have to flex for me for me to get my dick up. I was at attention before she had really done anything.

Hardly conscious of what she was doing, she tore the remaining tatters of clothes from her body, fully revealing her magnificent form to me. She then bore down on my body, burying me beneath her bulk. Despite the weight, I didn’t mind. It was all that I could hope for. I could feel her iron-hard muscles pushing down on my body as got my erect phallus inside her. It was a feeling unlike anything that I had ever experienced.

Now, I was by no means a virgin, but there is an indescribable difference between the vaginal walls of an average woman and those of a woman who’s every muscle had grown to superhuman proportions, even those that aren’t normally thought of as muscles (such as those that line the vaginal walls), but regardless, the feeling was incredible. She gyrated her hips perfectly, her muscles flexed against my body, every sensation magnified itself one hundred-fold every second that this incredible experience went on.

We moved together in perfect harmony, almost to the point where we couldn’t tell who was doing what actions. Together, we ground our hips together amidst sessions of thrusting. I’d knead her marvelous breasts, then she would feel them up. She’d flex, we’d both run our hands over her amazonian body, feeling every hard curve, every brawny plate of muscle as they jumped at her command. We’d cry out from the pleasure, sometimes one after the other, sometimes together. It was an orgy the likes of which the world has never seen. We orgasmed together, time and time again, until finally, both of our stores of energy spent, we collapsed into unconsciousness. The last thought that I had before I fell under was how incredibly grateful I was that she had forgotten to turn the lights off.

The next morning, I awoke to find Mayim back in her beautiful but normal form. She still looked extremely athletic, but she no longer had those massive muscles that I had loved so much. Seeing her like that wasn’t really that much of a surprise. After all, last night had taken a lot out of both of us. And besides, I knew that those muscles would be back at some point.

Eventually, she woke. We talked for a time about last night, but there wasn’t that much to talk about. Apparently she found it very “therapeutic”. From that point on, we had a steady relationship with each other. The changes were random at first, but I finally noticed a pattern.

She changed any time that her body was under some sort of extreme stress. It didn’t matter the cause of the stress, so long as it was over something important, such as important schoolwork or a dangerous situation. Eventually, we figured out how to completely control the change, so she could avoid the change when stressed and force the transformation at will.

We had fun.

Eventually, out of college, we settled down together and started a family. We had twins, a boy and a girl. Our son, Silex, turned out to be a lot stronger than should be naturally possible. Our daughter, Aria, seemed to heavily favor her mother, if you get my meaning. Currently they are both in high school and both are using their gifts responsibly. Well… they usually do, anyway. But interesting that that may be, that’s a story for another time.

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She is quite an impressive woman. Hot, huge, and ripped.

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Umm… well… that's true, but not everyone makes judgements about every little thing, such as what a person likes. Most, unless directly confronted with something, will ignore it. Besides what does it matter if some random person sees you. So long as it's no one that knows you, they probably won't remember.

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Aside from the fact that I would probably be on the verge of tears or joy the first time it happened, I don't think that it would change anything in the long run. If anything, I'd say that it would increase my devotion to her, and, hopefully, hers to me.

Funnily enough, I'm actually in the process of finishing a story that uses an incredibly similar situation.

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That's quite the impressive pic. If only every girl in an anime looked like that… 😉

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A pretty good second peice. I can't wait to see what comes next.

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