*POLL* Juiced [Amnoartist]

[Amnoartist]

Time for a little update of sorts. I haven't written anything new for the series yet, but wanted to gift you guys with a little something. Here's the completed Peyton sketch by Roemesquita:

[Amnoartist]

Got the first chunk of Juiced's fifth chapter, Inch For An Inch, written down. Raegan's plan to bring Natalie down comes into play here

[Amnoartist]

Juiced
Written & edited by Amnoartist
Chapter 5: Inch For An Inch

“Hold still, will you?” Reagan never anticipated Dale, her hunk of a boyfriend, to be so fidgety, even if one of his arms was mangled. The redhead delicately applied a fresh dressing to his broken limb while he looked around the room aimlessly. Something had to be done to keep his mind off the fact his hopes for competing had been crushed by the monolithic brunette. “Never took you for a wimp.”

He clocked the lone crutch by the side of his bed and sighed despondently. If it weren’t for his injury Dale would’ve been working out right now, Reagan watching close by, no doubt getting wet and aroused at the sight of him posing and pumping his muscles up. Instead, she had the duty of redressing his arm for the fourth time in the past two weeks. Dale could tell Reagan didn't have the heart or patience to repeatedly do the deed. It made him think what she truly thought of him now, where their relationship stood. The redhead and the cripple.

"Well, what do you expect? I've got a broken arm." He raised the bandaged limb slowly to stress the point, but that did more harm than good; he was pretty sure he pulled a tendon. A wince-like groan escaped his lungs as he shifted his weight to pull himself up against the bed's headboard. "I'm done."

Reagan rolled her eyes. Done: that was one way to describe Dale in his predicament. She would've preferred to use a harsher term like 'fucked,' because honestly, he looked that way. His arm might've been done in, but his pride and confidence were damaged too. They wouldn't be so easy to recoup. He counted himself lucky it was just the one arm that was broken, considering Natalie threatened to do more damage, a jest or not.

"Well, you didn't exactly try to stick up for me, did you?" Reagan offered a cold stare. She remembered that moment fear filled her after Natalie extended her threat, piss trickling down her smooth beautiful legs for all to see. Did Dale have any idea how embarrassing how that was for her? All those on-looking gym-goers close to bursting into fits of laughter. Reagan only managed to save herself some ridicule through running away, abandoning Dale to his injury. Deep down, she hated him for it. Only now was she finally making her feelings known.

"Rae..." Dale paused, not knowing how to properly answer his babe of a girlfriend's scolding remark. He didn't want to offend her even more than she already felt, nor did he want to cause more friction in their relationship. It was just a tremor, but definitely there. He took her by the hand and held it lovingly, offering the gentlest smile he could give. But it didn't provide the desired effect; she pulled her hand away sharply before turning away from him.

Silence came over the redhead. She didn't have words to offer Dale. She didn't have to say anything - the cold and distant shunting spoke for her. Raegan was far from interested in a proper emotional relationship with Dale by now, but the attraction to his muscles always betrayed and pulled her back to him, into his rippling arms. She hated herself for that, being so weak-willed. She turned back to him with a gentle grin, whether fake or not was hard to say, but Dale was happy to see it at least.

"I know. It's not your fault." Raegan leaned in, to kiss Dale passionately on the lips, arms at either side of the bed to emphasise their humorous contrast; his log-thick monsters to her rail-thin twigs. Raegan's sudden act of intimacy caught Dale off-guard, forcing him to ask himself why she did what she did. At any rate, the kiss was exquisite; her strawberry scented lips parting over his to engage in a short tongue battle before she swiftly pulled back, her bountiful breasts flashing enough flesh to flaunt cleavage.

"What are you after?" As much as Dale loved the idea of Raegan suddenly having her way with him, half-crippled or not, Usually, she did these kinds of things when something was wanted in return. He watched her lips part again as a dainty hand met the buckle of his jeans, arousal coming over the hormone-fueled male. Before long, Raegan whipped his cock out from within his jeans and took it firmly in her hand. Predictably, the near-constant consumption of illegal substances didn't do the girth of Dale's manhood much justice, but Raegan clearly didn't care; she started stroking him off, slowly at first, making sure to offer an almost girlish chuckle each time she reached his tip.

"Can't a girl just get her man off for the sake of it?"

"Come on, Rae, you're after something. What is it?" One minute the redhead was scolding Dale for having not defended her during the confrontation with Natalie, the next she was on the verge of sucking him off. He wasn't a complete meathead. In fact, he could even tell she was after something with the face she had: a sort of scheming smirk that seemed to grow more pronounced the thicker Dale's cock got in her hand. A warm wetness soon engulfed him just for a moment, long enough to coax Dale into complete submission for Raegan's will, before pulling out, forcing him to moan. Just what was it she was after?

"Tell me where Natalie gets her pills from and I'll be sure to take all of you in my mouth. I know you know where she gets them." It was clear Raegan wasn't joking; the scheming look on her face had turned to something stricter, perhaps even a bit mad. On any other occasion, Dale would've outright opposed revealing where Natalie got her stash, but he wasn't thinking straight, not after getting teased like that. "Come onnnn!"

So this was why she was acting so passionately. It wasn't all that surprising. Ever since the embarrassing moment weeks earlier, Reagan grew to hate Natalie. The redhead figured the best way to shame Natalie was to beat her at her own game. Raegan knew the consequences of hormone abuse but didn't care. The mad glare in her eye suggested as much.

"There's this guy she goes to, on Ford Avenue." Dale was surprised he was able to think straight, given Raegan was still rhythmically beating him off. He could feel himself close to coming and probably would've if he didn't try to hold his load in.  Not that it mattered much.

The necessary information now within her grasp, Raegan peeled away from the bed and slipped into a pair of shoes that emphasised her modestly sculpted calves. It was clear Dale was being played by Raegan just to get information out of him: the information she needed to enact her revenge on Natalie. He felt used. Hell, he was used. Hopefully, that didn't mean Raegan was finished with him. He might've only had the one good arm, but that didn't mean he was totally useless in bed. More to the point, he really wanted that BJ.

"What about that BJ you promised?"

Raegan responded with a dry chuckle from the hallway as if she was condescending towards her boyfriend. "Finish yourself off. Use your good arm. I'll be back soon."

A definitive bang from the front door sealed Dale's fate in his unfortunate predicament. How long had it been since he had to finish himself off like this? A year at least. He looked at his good hand and sighed before reaching down.

///

The Ford Avenue alleyway stayed true to its abysmal characteristics even on the hot summer's day that it was, narrow and dark with bricks chipped away from decades of weathering, the smell of days' old food hung high in the air swathing from dumpsters. Paul stood by one of them impatiently waiting for his next client. It wouldn't have been Natalie; it shouldn't have been Natalie – she'd just bought her next stash only a day ago, enough pills to keep her going for at least a fortnight. But that didn't mean they'd last that long. Paul recommended she take two at a time, but who was to say she had six instead?

Not wanting to think too much about that possibility, he turned to his pocket and drew a cigarette. The first puff was always the longest, billowing a white-grey cloud of smoke from his lungs as a youthful sparrow swooped down and pecked away at the insides of the dumpster next to him. Paul had never seen a sparrow before and yet he smiled like it was a pet.

Before long, the screeching tires of a car drew a sense of finality to Paul's calm moment with the bird before it hastily unfurled its wings to ascend. Paul wasn't usually one for superstition, but something deep inside told him it might've been a good idea to scarper off like the Sparrow did. It was too late for that though. She arrived.

The first thing Paul spotted were the long shapely legs bolstered by modestly sculpted calves, further enhanced by the sexy pair of short denim shorts clinging to her bubble butt. She sure was something. A faint hint of muscle development showed through her bare midriff, above which was an eye-opening pair of perfect tits covered by a sports bra. What colour was it? Honestly, Paul was too entranced by the girl's overall perfection to really give a shit. And her face – blemish-free and smooth as can be, her cheeks flanked by the exquisite red hair. Glancing downward, she smirked knowingly at Paul's evident erection. She always had that effect on men, sometimes even women.

‘I hear you have something that helps get girls big." Raegan was straight to the point, as usual, seeing no form of advantage in dilly-dallying. One leg crossed over the other seductively, she offered a pout before continuing. "What do you have for a cute little redhead like me?"

Paul found no words at first, not all that sure why a girl this flawlessly beautiful and perfect would even want to juice up. She was thin as anything and that look definitely suited her, especially with that damned bubbly butt. Oh, how he hoped to touch it just once. But, no—business was at hand here. That was more important than anything – he needed the money.

"Really? Pretty sure a babe like you doesn't need to get big."

Compliments: Raegan pretty much longed for and lived off them. But compliments wouldn't get her what she wanted here. Why did this chick want what he had to offer anyway? Paul just couldn't get that question out of his head. In fact, who actually gave a shit? The chick was hotter than Peruvian chilli and that laugh of hers knotted his balls up. She offered a girlish titter to coax Paul further, compelling the youthful drug supplier to reveal a Samsonite briefcase from behind the dumpster nearest him. She directly influenced his actions just by way of smiling and giggling.

"You let me worry about that, okay babe?" she spoke those words in a faux teasing tone. Clearly, she had some experience acting that way towards others.

Raegan's eyes sparkled at the sight of the case opening to reveal not one, not even two, but three rows of the monkey pills stashed in clear bottles. The key to her revenge was right there, right in front of her eyes.

"Taking two of these on a daily basis when cycling should do the trick, but—" Paul stopped himself short. He could tell this girl had no real idea what he meant by ‘cycling.' Something told him he thought she presumed it to mean the sport. That wasn't entirely out of the question, though. After all, cyclists likely juiced up too.

Raegan didn't give a shit. She had no plans to 'cycle,' whatever the fuck that meant. All she wanted to do was get bigger than Natalie and take her place as the big, bad bitch. Then just keep getting bigger. Her disinterest started to show; the smile was gone and replaced with a stern stare fixed on the rows of pill bottles.

Paul was too fixated on the redhead's generous bust to notice she plucked one of the bottles from the case and examined its contents closely. She offered a gentle scoff at the monkey faces on the pills. To her, they appeared more like kids' sweets than hormones.

"Adorable."

Paul's heart was racing. This babelicious chick was definitely getting the better of him in more ways he could imagine. It wasn't even normal for someone like the redhead before him to be this beautiful; she had to be an angel. Right?

"What do they taste like?" Raegan shook the pill bottle slowly in a manner all too similar to how she jerked Dale off, making sure to pout in anticipation of Paul's response. Or, at least, he assumed she expected him to acknowledge her question.

It wasn't long before Paul came out of his trance to witness Raegan unlatching the child lock on the bottle and shamelessly knocking the capsules back greedily, watching pill after pill after pill roll from the container and into the redhead's waiting throat. "No, wait! Don't!"

Too late for that. The pills were gone - all of them - and slowly dissolving in Raegan's stomach, already starting to push her metabolism and make her feel different, stronger. Paul often reminded Natalie not to ever go full-bottle, no matter how tempting it felt; no matter the advantages it offered. As strange as it was to hear it from her, she understood.

Raegan was a completely different animal in that regard. Common sense had abandoned her the moment she set eyes on Paul knowing he was the key to all she had planned. The empty bottle rolled across the paving and bump into Paul's shoe just as the redhead before him spoke.

"Ooooh, score! It's stronger than I thought it would be." She sucked her teeth as an immeasurable burst of energy funnelled through her, the fabric of her clothes already starting to stretch and constrict. Usually, Natalie would have to work out a bit first before the desired effects truly started to make themselves known. But she didn't have the balls to go full-bottle. "So warm..."

Paul watched in horror as not only Raegan's clothes rip and muscles grew but her bones split, cracked and shifted to help make room for the electric expansion, tip-toeing backwards. Her responding moans came in all different tones and lengths, ranging from porn star to girlish in nature. It went without saying despite the terrifying display before him, Paul possessed a unique level of curiosity. He may have told Natalie not to go full-bottle but nobody had ever done that before. Until now.

"Oh my god, this is the best!" The sickening sound of squelching flesh filled the air just before Raegan's dainty bra split down the middle and flew skyward landing in a puddle, revealing the spasming growth on her generous bosom, transforming her breasts into thick walls of pectoral meat encrusted with veins. It wasn't long before those veins birthed yet more, snaking off in most directions; dipping down her roiling stomach, curving over her pumpkin'd deltoids, spreading over her thighs. At any rate, Raegan was evidently displeased with her bra having failed to keep her modest. "What the fuck? Fucking cheap shit."

The growth seemed to pick up its pace now, all while Raegan's stomach growled; all that muscle mass rapidly packing itself onto the redhead's frame was making her hungry. But satiating that hunger was second-rate to growing as she did. The rhythmical snapping of her denim shorts signalled their rapidly declining fate, implying they would become less than what they should've been: a diminutive thong only just large enough to cover her where it mattered.

As rapid and welcoming as it was, however, the growth soon became both painful and arousing. The snapping bones continued spreading to allow more mass to be piled on, while the associated sounds of expansion filled Raegan's ears. Eventually, she was wet, pulsing and crying tears of pain. Pleasurable pain.

"Jesus, fuck!"

Eventually, the growth faded into nothingness, stopping almost suddenly, there were a few jerking mounds of muscle here and there, but they too disappeared, leaving the barely-clothed Raegan standing over the horrified Paul. She offered a knowing smirk at him as a lone sickening vein crawled just an inch away from her right cheek. It stayed there, throbbing like her anticipating genitalia. So this was what it was like to go full-bottle.

But Raegan was far from finished. She lurched her arm forward to grab Paul by the collar, pulling him forward to meet her face. He could hear that vein squirm under her skin like it was a worm trying to burrow its way out of the dirt; he could feel the peak of her colossal bicep press against his hip as well.

"I'll take the lot." Raegan's voice was different; it was deeper, maybe even more so than Natalie's. But the redhead knew exactly what she was getting into and happened to welcome her new tone. The new Raegan needed a new voice.

Paul nodded in agreement. He had to - God knows what the gargantuan redhead before him would do if he opposed. One thing was for sure: Natalie wasn't going to be happy about it. He fell to his knees as Raegan released him, snatching the case like a hawk would its prey, already eyeing up her second bottle.

"Fuck doses."

[ImperatrixRattus]

Woof.

Fuck doses indeed. I'm not sure what I was expecting now with the talk of a 'plan,' but this seems like a good one.  Simple, direct, no possible way it backfires.  10/10

(Oh god Natalie's gonna be pissed)

[sw1ngy]

Competitive growth stories remain my favorite subgenre 

[Amnoartist]

Woof.

Fuck doses indeed. I'm not sure what I was expecting now with the talk of a 'plan,' but this seems like a good one.  Simple, direct, no possible way it backfires.  10/10

(Oh god Natalie's gonna be pissed)

Heh, the plan was: meet Paul > steal pills from him to get jacked and outsize Natalie > Embarrass Natalie however Reagan sees fit. Simple, direct, no possible way it backfires

10/10? It was that good, eh? Thanks ^^

And yeah, Natalie definitely isn't going to like how things turned out.

[hairylover321]

 WOW!!! What an incredible addition to your already incredible story. So I wonder what Natalie will do when she sees the new Reagan? K++

[derekr]

Love it!

[draight]

Wicked hot.  I love rivalry stories so this is pretty awesome in my book.  I wasn't actually expecting Reagan to muscle up that quickly but the sequence was fantastic, and as others have noted it should be fun to see Natalie's reaction.

Bones literally breaking though... jeez.

[Amnoartist]

Wicked hot.  I love rivalry stories so this is pretty awesome in my book.  I wasn't actually expecting Reagan to muscle up that quickly but the sequence was fantastic, and as others have noted it should be fun to see Natalie's reaction.

Bones literally breaking though... jeez.

Yeah ^_^ Raegan only managed to muscle up that fast because she had the balls to go full-bottle/took all the pills at once, compared to Natalie who takes them somewhat moderately. Speaking of Natalie: I don't imagine she'll be happy ^^;

[Amnoartist]

Juiced
Written & edited by Amnoartist
Chapter 6: Champion

Nobody could blame the two backstage assistants from staring. It wasn’t every day they saw somebody like Natalie drive nearly a tonne’s worth of weight up to get a pump before going onstage to reveal her physique to the public eye, to the countless hundreds that made up the eager crowd. Not only that, but it wasn’t every day someone like her - someone as big, ripped and swole as her - needed not one, not even two, but three other assistants to oil her up. The two who watched from afar, Mick and Jonas, stood like two frigid poles.

“How exactly do you think she got that big? She has to be juicing, right?” Jonas was the youngest, somewhere in his early twenties compared to Mick who was at least forty years his senior, so he had a fair amount of experience to his advantage. In that regard, this implied Jonas was the most naive of the two. He even looked childish despite his age - a baby-faced heart-throb with just enough muscle mass for him to be considered hot by the other girls. Conversely, Mick was starting to show signs of baldness and was often straight to the point with his words. Something that often rubbed the wrong way with the ladies.

“Her results came back negative in the pre-show testing, so she can’t be on the shit.” His arms folded, Mick’s eyes stalked Natalie’s curls in the attempt to pick out any form of abnormality in the girl’s massiveness that implied drug use. Anything like a rash on her back, water retention in the bulging muscles in her unrivalled body would be enough— but nothing. If anything, it was like she was the living embodiment of every contestant’s dreams. Regardless, Mick’s brow curled curiously. He read about a new drug sweeping the streets that did away with the negative effects, but it was just too good to be true. “This girl’s all real.”

“You think she’ll win?” Jonas was clearly marvelled by Natalie’s size and effortless ability to curl the huge weight. When applying for her position in the show, she made it clear to those who ran it that extra weight was needed to get the pump required for her to really show off. While she did get the pump she sought, somehow - deep down in that obsessive mind of hers - she was still dissatisfied. Her veins shot to the surface of her skin, pushing violently in such a way that they rebelled against the rest of her anatomy, forcing themselves higher and goading more thickness and hormone-fuelled blood until a freakish layer of vascularity spread across her bicep. All the other contestants would be in awe of the display if they watched and weren’t already concerned about the likelihood of losing to her.

“Well, let me put it this way, kid:” Mick observed a small gathering of the comparatively smaller contestants heatedly arguing with one another about the only thing that seemed to matter: why they even bothered to show up and compete when they knew they didn’t stand a chance against Natalie. In other words, they were packing it in long before the show even started, leaving in small groups. Only a small number of girls dared to stay behind and be willing to strut their stuff on the stage when the time came. Mick had to admire their bravery for that, even though they already lost. “There’s little reason for her to compete if the competition’s leaving in droves before the show’s even started.”

As much as he seemed to worship Natalie, Jonas couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the other girls. They’d probably spent just as much time or even longer training to get the bodies they’d crafted, only for them to be hopelessly dominated by a girl who just lifted what she felt like at the time, barely following a strict diet or workout regimen, taking pills that pushed her size more and more. Of course, she considered lucky they didn’t show up on the drug testing, else she wouldn’t be so lucky as now. That, and a swift visit to Paul would be in order.

The dumbbell rolled free from Natalie’s hand dropped to the floor with a near thunderous metallic thud, cracking the otherwise pristine floor before rolling for a moment and stopping suddenly at a table’s legs, beside which stood one of the eager girl’s nervous assistant’s with a bottle of oil. He wasn’t all that sure how it would be possible to make her shine the way she wanted. Sure, there were three other assistants helping him - one a girl, the other a guy - but that wouldn’t exactly amount to much. It was clear they were struggling with her demands to be golden brown before going onstage. There was just so much of her to cover!

“Make sure you get into my glutes.” She stretched her left leg in front of the evidently apprehensive blonde girl thin as a rail. There was twice as much muscle in Natalie’s flaunted limb than in the blonde’s entire body by comparison. Natalie made sure to stress her point a bit further, running a hand down the length of the exposed quad that seemed to ripple and bound at its own accord. But it was just the pills coursing through her system one more time before she would set off to wow the crowd. “I worked those extra hard last night.”

“You can see that, Nat.” Vic, the most curious of the assistants, eyeballed her striated teardrop quad with a clear sense of devotion, mentally picturing a private moment between him and the gargantuan brunette where she would let him grope the muscle in question. Technically, he was doing that anyway through applying the oil. But, professionalism aside, Natalie would be more willing for other things if she weren’t so set on dominating the stage.

Vic continued to observe the girl’s leg, painstakingly obsessing over the individual striations in the calf before nearly drooling over the pillar-thick quad the mousy blonde Devon delicately applied dollops of oil to, clearly starting to loosen up and get the hang of it. Admittedly, she was rather envious and Natalie knew that. The third assistant, Ben, found himself to be the luckiest of the trio at the moment, generously lathering oil up Natalie’s leg until his fingers neared her bikini bottoms, underneath which her crotch evidently pulsed with energy. The monkey pills were in no way, shape or form biased over which part of her body grew. Not that Natalie complained. She was evidently enjoying the moment involving her trio of quasi-slaves. In spite of that, she could practically feel the seething hatred from the remaining contestants brave enough to go up against her on the stage. It was a futile effort on their part, but Natalie would surely be amused by it.

“She’s definitely on those new monkey pills hitting the streets, isn’t she?” Victoria, the largest of the natural girls glowered at Natalie from the back, trying to make heads or tails of how she could get so big otherwise. Victoria was more or less a blot compared to the inevitable champion, but she wasn’t going to live that down. That wasn’t to say she was willing to sacrifice her curvaceous looks to gain the upper hand. She knew winning the trophy would be a long shot, but she wasn’t going to back down like the rest of the girls.

“I heard she broke Ford’s arm in a drug-fuelled rage because he beat her sister.” The girl next to Victoria, Jess, was slightly smaller by all accounts, but still retained the bravado to strut onstage. Be that as it may, it was impossible to deny the quiver of uncertainty in her gut. After all, logic dictated Jess had less of a chance of winning the trophy than Victoria because she was smaller still.

“What do you make of that rumour about his girlfriend beefing up to get revenge?” On most occasions, Jess wasn’t as smart as Victoria, but as it stood, she never understood why Victoria didn’t take even just one of the monkey pills if she knew they existed. She certainly would. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she found out about those pills you keep talking about and chugged the lot. She’s crazily persistent like that.”

Victoria knew exactly just how wild and obsessive Reagan could get sometimes. She wouldn’t put it past her to think the redhead was bold enough to beef up to put Natalie in her place. She certainly needed to be put down a peg or two. Victoria also knew about the recent altercations between Natalie and her mother about the supposed drug use. Marie was a smart woman - and a nurse - so if she was adamantly contending with her daughter about hormone use, it had to be true. She had to be on drugs. More to the point, she had to be on the monkey pills.

Victoria was just about to approach and engage in a war of words with Natalie when the head assistant called out from near the curtains, ordering the girls to line up and prepare themselves for the crowd. Given her recent arguments with her mother, Natalie wasn’t so sure she’d have much support in the audience, at least from her family. Sure, the crowd would back her in its own right, but familial support had a certain air about it. It was a completely different beast. Perhaps at least Peyton would be there, or Joanne?

Jess stood behind Natalie and quivered with nervousness, failing to comprehend just how much smaller her entire body was compared to Natalie’s back. The other girls were right to leave before the show kicked off, but it was too late for Jess and Victoria now. All they could do was go onstage only to accept defeat. The overbearing shadow from Natalie’s colossal frame only bolstered their fear of the inevitable.

The curtains pulled back, revealing the quadruplet of contestants one by one, the smallest first. The audience was shocked for the obvious reason that there was a considerably smaller number of buff women on the stage than initially advertised. Some even considered leaving when they realised their favourite was not part of those bold enough to pose against Natalie.

But that was before she was revealed.

The judges weren’t sure how was best to describe Natalie. To say she was ripped would be an understatement in itself. Not only that, but the competition had to be a joke at this point if her rivals thought they stood a chance against her. This was a competition of size, not symmetry, and it was clear who the winner would be long before the first pose was called out. Natalie herself knew there was very little point in the show going ahead, but she liked to show off, not to mention the months of injections earlier in the year - long before the pills came into the equation - would all have been for nothing if she didn’t pose for the seas of hundreds. Today was going to be hers.

Natalie always liked the side triceps pose. There was a certain…grace to it. Holding the position as tightly as she could, it’s wasn’t long before Natalie felt her biceps press against her skin like a rope tightening around a pole and pulling, pulling and pulling… It was painful, but the exhilaration that came from the near skin-tearing pressure was something Natalie learnt to not only endure but lust after. She could actually feel the veins in her arms push forcefully, snaking perversely in an almost inhuman way to the surface of her skin. The slightest trickle of drool gathered at her lips…

Rear double biceps. Even as she pulled into that pose, the other muscles in her body not even associated with it seemed to flex. It was the pills making another final push for growth to course through her system. As strange as it was to admit, this was the one time growth wasn’t desired. That wasn’t to say she didn’t like the idea of being bigger. It was just…somehow, she just felt off, different. Negatively different.

Regardless, she mustered the willpower to drive herself into a most muscular pose, her hands clasped tightly enough for her biceps to predictably balloon. Indecipherable, concerned mutters from the crowd threw Natalie off-guard, however, even as a layer of veins shot to the surface of her chest. Her heart seemed to beat a little too fast now, like a steam train busting through the face of a mountain. One would think it was just the pills pushing again, but Natalie knew her body better than anyone ever could. She could actually feel her heart pounding against her chest.

It was a sudden cough that came next, rising from the pit of her thick, sculpted gut through to her throat. Then the irony scent of blood on her lips. Coughing blood? Not to be expected. Or was it? There was such a thing as going too far with the pills. Did Natalie finally, when she least expected to, reach that boundary? Paul did say they were working out the kinks in the pills, not that they were flawless.

It was when her vision started to blur that Natalie truly panicked. She rushed off-stage, bumping into the trio of assistants who helped oil her up, coughing violently as the blurred females’ toilets sign came into view.

///

Natalie stared at her reflection in the toilet mirror, repeatedly asking herself what the fuck happened back there, eyeballing the congealed blood at the corner of her mouth. The trophy was sure to be hers and she was betrayed by herself, of all people. Even as she panicked about the current state of her evidently declining health, the brunette couldn’t stop herself from staring at her mammoth biceps ballooned to their extremities and pressing against the porcelain sink.

The muffled cheers from the distance only made the girl feel worse. It would be no surprise if the trophy was awarded to either Victoria or Jess at this point. Even so, seething hatred filled Natalie. Self-hate. She got herself into this mess. There was nobody to blame for her current state of affairs but herself. She allowed herself to succumb to the addiction that riddled her body; allowed herself to willingly destroy her body from the inside in the hopes of making it bigger. It didn’t help that her friends or family weren’t there for support. Again: her fault.

This was Natalie’s wake-up call.

“Knew you were juicing, bitch. Gone cold turkey?” Victoria stood just outside the toilet boasting the new trophy that should’ve been Natalie’s. The winner couldn’t stop herself from feeling a sick sense of accomplishment in beating someone far larger than her. If only Victoria actually knew what Natalie was going through. But the victory, as incidentally lucky as it was, just might’ve gotten to Victoria’s head. “After I screw my man tonight, I think I’ll take a couple of those pills just to see what the fuss is all about.”

Natalie wanted to respond - wanted to tell Victoria where she was coming from - but couldn’t even find the willpower to open her mouth she was that broken. By the time she turned to face her, Victoria was long gone as if she wasn’t even there to begin with.

Then came what Natalie prayed wouldn’t - although, admittedly in some sense, it felt good to do it again after so long: the tears.

[sw1ngy]

My favorite series in a while. Well-done.

[Amnoartist]

My favorite series in a while. Well-done.

Thanks, man. Hope I can maintain my streak of quality until the series ends 

[Amnoartist]

Hey guys, you can expect Chapter 7: Beast this week. It might even come tomorrow if I'm lucky enough to reach its ending by then.

[Amnoartist]

Juiced
Written & edited by Amnoartist
Chapter 7: Beast

Dale was lucky to finally get his crutches off and start regaining strength in his arm. He couldn’t wait to get back into the gym with renewed vigour and pompously show off again. He wasn’t, however, quick to remember since his injury Reagan had been hogging the weights in the basement, not to mention repeatedly chug the monkey pills like sweets.

Ever since his misfortune, Dale and Reagan’s relationship had repeatedly become more strained and basically non-existent. She had confided in the Olympic weights as a means to grow stronger and larger to finally enact her revenge against Natalie for what she did. Reagan was going to destroy Natalie reputably and rather physically. It stood to reason that Reagan was already large enough to see her desire become reality, but her addiction to the hormones took precedence. Common sense was nought but a myth to her now. Besides, a few more inches of extra beef was always better than none at all.

Dale halted at the lowermost basement step rather suddenly, his eyes filled by the immensity of Reagan’s beefy and vein-swarmed back. Then he remembered. So much for hoping to get back into shape. Reagan wasn’t usually one for heavy metal music, but Dale wasn’t going to complain or contend with someone easily thrice his width, female or not. He might be pompous, but not stupid. He struggled to lower himself onto the step to sit and watch Reagan drive the beast of a weight up, sweat matting the very same back he was magnetised to upon arrival. Her breaths were deep and ragged, arguably male in tone from all the blatant careless ingestion of the pills. Reagan didn’t give a fuck—she was way past that stage.

She also knew Dale was watching but didn’t say anything. The persistence to gain mass and strength was powerful enough for Reagan to dismiss letting even a single syllable leave her lips. If anything, the deep breaths persisted, as did the unwavering determination to grow. Dale adamantly continued watching the veins on her back throb and pulse. He’d heard the pills she took could give rise to adverse effects, but this wasn’t what he expected. A deeper voice and maybe acne, sure, but pulsing back veins? Even Natalie wasn’t that addicted. She knew the risks and was even careful enough not to go full-bottle.

But Reagan was an entirely different beast.

She threw the barbell down carelessly, caring not if the abnormal weight was heavy enough to split through the floor. The ragged breaths still persisted but seemed to slow. Dale was both curious and anxious; He knew what Reagan looked like from the back—a near-bloated mountain of she-beef close to bursting, the cute sports bra on her chest so close to tearing that a deep isolated exhale just might be enough to turn it into purple confetti—but the front was a completely different story. The mirror was to the far side of the room, making it impossible for either individual to see what the redhead looked like. Obviously, Reagan already knew the answer to that, but she’d grown quite a bit since she last looked.

Her pump was incredible, raised the bar even on just how swole and jacked one could get from it. Sure, the hormones did most of the work but Reagan’s cold determination played just as much a part. Veins didn’t just swarm the young woman’s back, but other, far more sensitive areas. She lusted after them regardless. She craned her arms up into a flex, a manly grunt coming with the swelling shadow that engulfed Dale as he continued watching, seemingly frozen to the spot. He grew agitated at the fact she neither still hadn’t said a word, nor turned to face him. It was almost as if she was ignoring him—deliberately.

A deep, erotic and lustful moan filled her as the hormone started—once again—channelling through Reagan’s system, pushing her metabolism and desire to all-new heights, heartbeat racing as a layer of veins crusted over her chest where her heart was, pulsing energetically for a brief moment before fading back to whence they came. Before long, she started growing, still holding the pose so Dale could silently watch her arms rise larger, develop into small mountains of vein-swarmed beefiness next to nobody could ever hope to overcome. Dale wanted to say something—in protest or excitement wasn’t all that clear—but the spectacle before him proved too overpowering for him to even open his mouth. At best, all he did was mumble incoherently.

Another deeper moan came just as Reagan’s bra started succumbing to her growing form, ripping and tearing in delicate little patterns to reveal more of her sweat-matted skin, practically teasing Dale as he sat there frigidly. Why hadn’t he bothered to say anything? Was he too amazed by Reagan’s swelling to notice or care? On the other hand, maybe saying something would prove disastrous for him, ruining the moment that—at least to Reagan—was clearly arousing; she was getting wetter now than Dale could ever possibly make her, with a dark patch big as his fist forming in her ripping shorts. Nakedness was an inevitability at this point.

Her swelling muscles stretching against her skin as she done so, Reagan pulled down into a crab flex that finally saw her bra burst into the confetti it was destined to become, her legs expanding with the excitement so the dainty underwear shared the same fate, revealing her genitalia in all its thick, beefy and veiny glory. It wasn’t long after that a torrent of hormone-addled love juice ran down her inner thighs, giving them a strangely erotic glow.

The ragged, sexual moans came back again but Reagan chose to move away from the damp patch at her feet, advancing towards the mirror Dale saw earlier. Her steps were deliberately slow at first, stressing the point for Dale to gawk at the quivering muscle fibres in her calves easily big as his skull.  His hard-on was obvious at this point, tenting in his trousers. So he really was being turned on by Reagan’s larger form. He couldn’t wait to show his “appreciation” for her the best way possible.

She finally reached the mirror and groaned lustily, still without a proper word. Running a hand across the length of her clit, she looked into the mirror with a smile.

That was when Dale’s opinion of Reagan drastically changed.

Half of her face was covered in hormone-fuelled veins thick as fingers, squirming and pulsing with energy, inching towards her right eyelid. The adversity of going full-bottle truly took hold of Reagan so tightly that it stood to reason she just might never come back from it. Sure, Natalie was addicted, but at least she knew her limits—at least she looked human.

It was safe to say Reagan had a problem.

“Like what you see, babe?” She finally spoke, her tone just as deep as the earlier moans of pleasure, which didn’t help how Dale felt about the situation. He lost his erection almost instantly and pretty much the same happened with his love for her. “Think we could tussle for an hour or two?”

The thought of having sex with the beast that was Reagan having filled his mind, Dale gulped and stood there as she caressed his cheek, the veins on her face pulsing with a weird sense of energy as if hinting at her evident arousal.

“I don’t think—”

Reagan glared sharply, clearly unimpressed with the fact Dale even considered refusing to enact in her intentions. It wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter. Reagan ruled now. Dale might as well accept it. His eyes bulged out as the redhead seemed to undergo yet another dose of growth as she stood, her already massive muscles goading themselves larger and coldly towering over him as he whimpered.

“—you have a choice?” Reagan positioned herself in front of Dale to cut off his only means of escape, palms pressed to the wall behind him as her shadow engulfed him tenfold. Chuckling at the humorousness of the situation, she pressed her chest against him so his comparatively tiny form was shoved against the wall, making it hard for him to breathe. “No sweetie, you don't,” she added.

The lack of oxygen overpowering him, Dale fainted and proceeded to fall forward, but Reagan deftly grabbed hold of his waist just in time, cupping him in her arms and cradle-carrying him upstairs, where the real fun would begin.

///

When he came to, Dale found himself as Reagan’s rather unfortunate prisoner, spread-eagled and tied to the bed several times over to ensure escape was impossible. It was safe to assume that—in some sense—Dale was fucked. He wasn’t going anywhere even if the desire to was dire. The only thing keeping him the slightest bit calm was the fact Reagan was nowhere to be seen, even if this was undeniably all her doing.

Dale thrashed about in a vain attempt to loosen his bonds, but all he did was make the rope violently rub and tighten against his wrists, near enough burning them to the point where he let out a wince. It was hopeless—why he just couldn’t accept it was lost to even him—but he had to get out. For sure, he loved Reagan once but the vein-encrusted beast that had hidden itself was no longer her. Something twisted and perverse with a abnormal addiction had clearly taken her place, the desire for revenge having eaten away at the formerly beautiful redhead long ago.

Then she appeared, moving out from behind the doorway in all her naked monstrosity, clearly larger now than since Dale last looked. Unopened and  evidently new, she thumbed open the bottle of pills held firmly in her hand, chuckling deeply at the rattling contents just before they rolled free from the confines and slipped—one after the other until none were left—the sugar coated tablets down her waiting throat, practically lusting after the want for even more size than she already had.

“You’re not going to enjoy this. At least, not as much as I will.”

Reagan could see Dale’s shock but cared not for it. moving herself into position over him so her waiting clit ever so casually slipped into his cock. It was a near-perfect fit. Despite Dale’s evident protesting jerks, he only played the part Reagan hoped he would; as flaccid as it was, his cock still teased her genitalia until she moaned uncontrollably, letting out the deepest roar of lust she could muster, a barely human cry of passion nobody could hope to comprehend. She clamped down harder, practically stoppering his dick from making any unwarranted movements, keeping it straight and firm. She was in control.

“Please, stop.” Dale winced again, feeling Reagan’s growing form bear its weight down on his legs like an anchor to the sea’s depths, little by little becoming bigger as he became smaller and weaker. Bones started snapping out of place as the beastly woman’s hulking weight continually increased, her shadow engulfing both Dale and the room until pitch black filled it. “You’re hurting me,” he added.

Reagan didn’t care. She pressed her palms against his chest as her arms swelled outward, slowly but surely the pain in his chest became more apparent, oxygen becoming more a distant memory than ever. Though his was rapidly diminishing in tune with hers increasing, Dale mustered enough to strength to raise his eyes level with Reagan’s only to find the veins in he face had not only become more apparent, but were starting to spread further across her formerly beautiful visage, fervently pulsing and writhing.

“Shut up and let me do the fucking.” She reached in for a kiss just her gaping form swelled over Dale, engulfing him.

///

It wasn’t until the early hours of the next morning that the fucking finally stopped. Reagan had had her fill of ecstasy and passion for at least a few hours. She looked down at the scales with a smile painted on her face. It wasn’t often someone exceeded a weight of well over eight hundred pounds of muscle, fuelled by hormones or not. To Reagan, this was physical perfection. Natalie would be nothing but an ant by comparison.

Wordlessly Reagan looked up at the bathroom mirror and smirked as the final, perverse vein covered her face. She was complete now, a complete muscle beast that nobody could ever hope to overcome. Even if they could—Reagan glanced at the bottle of pills again. It was time to put Natalie in her place—in the dirt where she belonged.

Dale moaned from the bedroom, still spread-eagled and tied up. To say that something didn’t quite feel right would be an understatement. The problem was he couldn’t feel anything below his waist. Reagan had fucked him so hard that she crippled him beyond belief. His arm might heal, but his legs wouldn’t. Not that Reagan cared.

"Stop complaining. You weren't that good a fuck anyway."

She reached for the pills and down at least four for good measure in preparation for what was to come. Looking down at the scales again, she saw her weight shoot up before her eyes, climbing to beyond one thousand pounds of beef, one thousand and two hundred. It was only when the scales cracked that Reagan was really satisfied with herself. At least for the time being. She slapped her thick roid gut in triumph.

“Perfect.”