Author: [bertmacklinsbrother = BMB] My Wife Jennifer

[bertmacklinsbrother]

Hey everyone; Sorry for the long time without an update or a post.  Work has been relentless and I've been traveling almost every week.  It's a great opportunity, and I love my job, but it leaves me with almost zero time to write for fun.  I promise I'm working on the next chapter when I can and I hope to have something to post soon.  Thanks again for all of your support and great comments!

[xlomeli]

I highly admire your writing skill Bert, you have truly crafted among the finest fanfiction on this site. If I could input my two cents, I would like to see more feeding scenes between Jen and her husband, with her husband obsessing over feeding her, as if it were his new purpose, and Jen consuming copious quantities of food to grow and having episodes of unrelenting belching. Also, she would get so hungry she would even swallow pet fish/animals alive and feel them squirm within her gut, where they would be "safe within her fortress body." Your choice Hope you return soon my friend.

[bertmacklinsbrother]

An update!  I know this took far longer than it should have.  What can I say, it's been hard to make time lately.  But my desire to write is always there.  If anyone enjoys this section, let me know in the comments and thanks for your patience, as always!

End of Summer, 2009

I awoke the next morning in a groggy stir, my head pounding and my body aching.  It was a moment of unfamiliarity; that confusion you get when waking up somewhere that isn't your own bed.  I glanced around frantically, trying to absorb my surroundings, my forehead blaring in pain and a soreness spreading through my entire torso.  Next to me, Jen's massive body was sprawled across the bed, taking up most of the king-sized mattress, forcing me to the very edge of the bed.  She snored deeply while one of her burly legs hung off of the edge, massive foot grazing the carpet.

Laying back down in a sudden collapse, I remembered we were on vacation.  The previous night started to come back to me in flashes; the several bottles of wine we consumed, our naked bodies entangled in every room of the suite, the hours of rough, animal sex with my manly wife.  Well, rough for me anyways.  I gave myself a quick pat down, wincing whenever I came across a tender spot.  I looked down to examine the bruises along my hips; bruises that were almost in the shape of a very large set of hands.  A sudden memory of Jen's iron gorilla grip pulling me deeper and deeper into her again and again flitted across my mind.

I sighed, exhausted, wanting to drift back into a comforting sleep.  But the hangover that was settled in my skull continued to persist.  I sat up again, this time really feeling the aches and letting out a quick gasp as the pain flared across my arms and legs.  Jen must have really done a number on me last night.  That wasn't too surprising, considering her immense strength, but she was usually careful not to hurt me during our love making sessions.  She always was sure to be tender with my fragile body, despite her size and dominance.

Though my body whined in protest, I got out of bed, slowly wobbling to my feet.  My skull pounded as I stumbled to the bathroom to grab something to that would cease the pain.  After swallowing a few pills and splashing some cold water into my face, I walked back towards the bedroom, noticing the empty wine bottles strewn across the floor. 

"Well, that explains it," I thought, bending down to pick up a bottle.  A memory rushed through my mind; Jen and I laughing in a drunken stupor while we unscrewed yet another cork.  Jen poured me a small glassful while she simply chugged the remainder of the bottle down into her massive gullet.  The more of the night that came back to me, the more I recalled that I barely had 4 glasses of wine.  Sure there were four bottles lying on the ground, but I only had one glass from each, with Jen drinking the rest.  I shouldn't have gotten that drunk...

I rotated the dark green glass in my hand, inspecting the label.  This wasn't normal wine.  A small Feminox logo was settled on the back of the bottle.  Somehow I wasn’t surprised.  Jen and I had discovered that it was near impossible to get her drunk theses days.  She could drink like a barge of sailors, enough to put any man into a coma, and get only the slightest buzz.  I felt a bit sorry for her; we were never big drinkers, but there were times when it was nice to relax and get a bit tipsy, especially on a vacation like this.  It appeared as though Feminox had been working on a solution.  Down on the floor, next to one of the wine bottles, lie a piece of paper. 

“To help you enjoy your honey moon.  This is something special we’ve been working on.  Do pace yourself, Jennifer.  And be careful with that tiny husband of yours.”  The letter was signed in a unreadable scrawl just over the Feminox logo.  It was odd to hear me described as tiny.  Under any other circumstance, I was still considered a big guy; tall with an athletic build.  But here, in reference to Jen, the description was completely appropriate.

And I guess that the  solution was a success.  I glanced over to Jen, who was still snoring away on the bed.  Even sprawled out, she was an absolute mountain of muscle.  Her mouth hung open as she drew in another titanic breath, her burly chest and beefy mid section rising up strongly before steadily relaxing back down with a strong, loud exhale..  She looked and sounded like a hibernating bear, finally getting the restful sleep she was owed.  She worked so hard that it never really seemed like she got a full night's sleep.  I wondered if she was finally able to get drunk; I certainly couldn’t remember a thing and I felt like death.  It seemed the wine was not meant for me; a “normal” person by Jen’s standards.  The few glasses I had apparently caused me to black out and barely recall blurry glimpses of last night.  I least I remembered us having a fun time… at least, I’m assuming it was fun at the time.  The pounding aches throughout my body were making a strong case against it.

As if sensing I was staring at her, the behemoth stirred from her slumber, snorting deeply mid-snore as she turned and opened her eyes groggily, letting out a monstrous yawn.  The beast stretched her large arms overhead and spread her thick legs wide, a deep groan churning within her gut, resonating  in a hum throughout room.  She sat up, her upright position on the bed suddenly becoming a towering figure as her wide, immense feet thudded onto the ground.  With another deep, humming grunt, a gargantuan hand of hers slumped down with and scratched at her hairy belly and wild bush.  Protruding from her glorious pubes was a thick clit, that swelled, almost erect in a morning-wood like fashion.

With a cracking in her joints, she rose to her feet and brought her body into another stretch, impressively reaching up and grazing the tall ceiling.  I could sense the room darken as her titanic figure cast a shadow over my small, helpless self.  A combination of excitement, arousal, and terror swept over me, as I cautiously approached, laying one of my hands gently on her furry abs.

“How are you feeling, dear?  I saw the wine we drank last night...” I mumbled lowly as to not startle her.  She was like a wild animal in her hungover state, and her unpredictable nature scared me a little.  I tried to remain calm, despite knowing that one movement from her could snap me in two.

“…hungry.” She said in a deep, baritone.  The sound was more of a low, beastly growl than any words a human would utter. I was convinced it was equally a confirmation of her current state, as well as a command for me to obey.   The dead pan, hung-over stare in her cold eyes made me take her far more seriously than I already had been.  Within a second, I found myself in a panicked state, fumbling towards the spacious kitchen.  Desperately, I rifled through the fridge and cabinets, trying to scrounge up ingredients so I could prepare a quick meal for my starved monster wife.

Locating the eggs, milk, and bacon, I soon had a few pans and skillets crackling with all sorts of delicious smells.  It seemed Jen's company had foreseen her immense hunger and had thought it considerate to stock the fridge to the brim. 

"Hungry!" my wife roared angrily, her stark, deep voice almost shaking the room.  I jumped at the sudden noise and wondered if Jen's mighty bellow woke up half the hotel.

"Okay, okay, okay!" I pleaded, turning around to face her.  She was seething with anger, her titanic shoulders moving up and down brutishly with her heavy breathing.  Thick veins crawled across her beefy neck and up her handsome face and her teeth gritted.  It appeared as though she was using every ounce of determination at her disposal not to rip the kitchen island out of the tile and heave it out the window.  "It'll be done soon, I promise!"

She didn't respond; Jen just let out another feral growl.  The hangover had obviously hit her hard.  This was probably the first time she had actually been hung over in more than a year.  She likely forgot what it felt like.  In fact, knowing her enhanced strength and energy, she probably hadn't felt real pain in a long time.  To me, she had become this super hero that seemed invincible in every way.  And yet, it seemed as though we found Jen's kryptonite.  She was like a massive lion with a thorn lodged in her paw and no way of removing it.

"Food!  Now!" She roared again, sending more tremors through the room.  With that, she stomped over and gave me a light shove to the side.  Though, of course, a light shove from Jen sent me reeling across the room and skidding across the hard floor.  My eyes shut in pain, mostly from my fresh bruises being slammed onto the floor.  I looked up and Jen hadn't even registered what she had done.  Instead, she was standing over the still hot frying pan, grabbing barely cooked eggs and bacon straight off the skillet with her bare hands and shoveling them into her hungry maw.

"Jen!  Babe, that still needs to cook!" I tried to get to my feet quickly, but the terrible aches didn't leave me too mobile.  It was clear Jen hadn't heard me; that or she was ignoring me.  Her hulking body continued to stand in front of the stove, greedily consuming the food directly from the pan, grunting and chewing loudly.  Once I actually got up to her, the food had all disappeared, the skillet picked clean.

"Mmmm," Jen groaned deeply, a little more life returning to her eyes, "Still... hungry." 

--

After about three more instances of filling the skillet with food and watching Jen devour its contents, she was finally back to her normal self (Well, at least in this case, "normal" is relative).  It was a relief to see her return back from the brink; her wild animal state made me especially cautious.  In her drunkenness she had man-handled me in bed to the point of bruising and the resulting hangover had me cooking volumes of food in fear of being trampled to death.  We'd definitely need to be careful about consuming that Feminox alcohol in the future.

After the strange morning's events, we found ourselves headed down to the waterfront.  Being down at the beach was an odd combination of exhilarating and embarrassing, though these days, that was a combination that was becoming more and more familiar.  Jen in a bikini was an absolute sight.  I was in absolute heaven seeing her muscular body in all its glory out in the bright daylight.  But to the other patrons of the fancy resort, she must have appeared as some grotesque, hairy monster that somehow managed to stuff itself into a two piece swimsuit.

Jen was a hulking brute; tall and muscular beyond human capacity and quite hairy to boot.  She wore what I guess could be considered a bathing suit, but the small bits of purple fabric didn't leave much to the imagination.  Her bottoms were a thong which completely disappeared in between her large muscular booty globes, becoming entirely lost within the deep expanse of her crack.  In the front, a small purple triangle attempted to cover her vagina, but her severely large clit bulged out a good inch and a half, giving her a bit of a poser pouch.  Besides, her gnarled, thick bush absolutely exploded out from under her bikini, making it look like a tiny purple tarp in the middle of the Amazon rain forest.  Her hair of course continued up her belly in the form of a thick treasure trail as well as down her beefy thighs until her lower legs become a dense carpet of dark fur. 

The story wasn’t any better upwards.  Her top did nothing but cover her nipples, while her meaty pecs, dotted with chest hair, were freely exposed.  Large tufts of armpit hair hung down her underarms as well, making that bikini top seem extremely out of place.  She was a true testament to masculinity, somehow awkwardly crammed into a women’s swimsuit.  All around, people stared and gaped.  Many whispered to each other, asking if that was the same woman they heard about from the previous night; the one who made a scene at the restaurant.  My face was hot with embarrassment as they obvious recognized us, and yet, I felt a twinge of pride.  Jen was quite an unforgettable person; no matter where she went, there wouldn’t be a single witness that could escape her premise without gawking.  I felt so happy for Jen; though this was never how I envisioned Jen getting her recognition, it almost felt as though she was some sort of celebrity.

“Honey,” I said, feeling the weight of the numerous eyes gazing upon us, “Do you think we should go find our own spot on the beach?  Somewhere a little more private?”

“I suppose,” Jen boomed coolly, as she prodded and scratched at her top.  “Ugh, this thing is bothering the hell out of me.”  She tried to pry the spaghetti straps from her monster shoulders and traps, but the thing clung on for dear life, not allowing any give.  She tried to reach around behind herself to grab the back of the bikini top, but her massive arms and wide back limited her mobility so much that she wasn’t even close to touching it.  She let out a bit of an angry growl, becoming audibly angry at the situation; she was acting like a beast trapped in a net, grunting in anger at the persistence of her puny restraints.

“Well, it doesn’t exactly hide much, does it?” I smirked, amused at the way the two small triangles barely covered her nipples.  “Having some trouble adjusting it?  Do you need my help?”

Before I could get offer a hand adjusting her suit, Jen bellowed with a deep, loud grunt, and simultaneously flexed her traps, lats, shoulders, and chest in a heroic pose.  With a piercing tear, the already strained spaghetti straps snapped and the bikini flung off of her chest, revealing burly man pecs and thick nipples  for all to see.

“Babe!” I yelped, a bit shocked at her sudden reveal in front of all those people.  “What the hell are you doing?”  Already, people were gasping, some even reaching for their phones to record the magnificent (or terrifying) sight they were witnessing.  All around, folks were giggling and gossiping, and yet Jen only gave a slight grin at the attention.

“That damn thing doesn’t fit anyways.” She said in a deep commanding tone, “Besides, I don’t think a top suits me anymore.  If that sorry excuse for a man can be seen without a shirt,” she pointed to a chubbier man eating a hotdog on a reclined fold out chair.  He stopped mid bite, gulping as he realized the entire beach staring at where Jen was referring.  “Then why the hell should these perfect pecs be hidden?”

I raised a finger and opened my mouth in protest, but couldn’t come up with a decent counter to her argument.  The debate fumbled around in my mind.  Though it seemed ludicrous, she was right.  All around the beach were people of different body types, and plenty of out-of-shape individuals that society would deem unfit to wear a swimsuit in public.  And yet my wife, who had the body of a Greek god, was forced to cover up?  It did seem a bit wrong.

“But,” I said after a little while of internal back-and-forth, “You’re still a woman… Sure, you’re manlier than most men, but genetically, you’re still a female.  You can’t just go nude on a beach.”  The words felt strange coming out of my mouth and even I was surrounded with a sense of uncertainty as I said them.  Jennifer had no breasts to speak of.  Not a single ounce of fat was on that chest of hers, and her striated muscles were so large and rippling with definition that they left no doubt in my mind; these were man-pecs through and through.  Combined with the layer of dark stubble that protruded from her behemoth chest, no one could confidently say that she had the body of a woman. 

Showing someone a picture of her from the neck down would definitely yield the same response a hundred times; this was the body of a male, Olympian bodybuilder.  One of the largest the world has ever seen.  And, well, with how much facial stubble she was sporting these days, combined with her large Adam's apple, her sharp, handsome jawline and the rugged features of her nose and brow, even a full bodied picture of Jen could easily be taken for a long-haired man.

“Well maybe I’ll talk to the hotel about changing the rules of this beach.  If they have something to say about it, they can say it to my face.”  The seriousness in her stark voice sent a slight chill down my spine as I imagined her intimidating, enraged encounter with the hotel manager.  If she indeed intended to have this confrontation, I was convinced the rules of this hotel wouldn’t remain the same for long.  No one in this place stood a chance against my wife.  She knew it, I knew it, and I’d be damned if the rest of the beach didn’t figure it out before our vacation was over.

[M7]

Great update bertmacklinsbrother! K+++  Love the description about her hangover, anger, hunger and lack of patience among other things! Well thought out. Very nice writing. The waterfront scene was really hot too! Keep up the great work my friend and looking forward to the next update. 

[bertmacklinsbrother]

Great update bertmacklinsbrother! K+++  Love the description about her hangover, anger, hunger and lack of patience among other things! Well thought out. Very nice writing. The waterfront scene was really hot too! Keep up the great work my friend and looking forward to the next update. 

Thanks a lot!  I'm glad you enjoyed the hangover bit.  I really wanted Jen to seem like a wild animal, hardly in control.  The beach scene was also fun to write   I know this Chapter was shorter, but I had gone back and forth on how I wanted those scenes to play out, so I ended up changing a lot of things over time.  But, I think it turned out for the better!

Always appreciate the comments!

[governor]

Looks like pretty soon she'll finally be wearing a massive girl beard!

[bertmacklinsbrother]

Wait a second . . . is there animal DNA in feminox?

Thank you so much for reading!  And no, haha, no animal DNA.  But in the recent chapter, I did want to give the impression of Jen exhibiting her most basic animal instincts, especially when her brain isn't really firing on all cylinders (due to bring drunk or hungover).  Thing is, we've always seen Jen be able to keep quite a lid on her emotions.  She's very intelligent and scientific when it comes to her thoughts, so she's always been able to keep her anger and passion in check, simply due to her ability to analyze and understand her emotions.  However, like most forms of steroids, the serum does make emotional outbursts more likely.  It's been very rare in Jen so far in the story; she's lashed out a few times and can give a cold, hard stare that'll send someone shaking to their knees, but overall she's been very cool and collected.

I wanted to show that when her brain isn't functioning properly, the beastly rage inside of her can be unleashed which can result in some very brutish, animal-like behavior.  Hope that makes sense

[darksecret23]

 

Amazing! Can you take it further? I mean... Make her even more roided!

I have a feeling he will make Jen moar of a roided monster

[freakpeak]

Amazing! Can you take it further? I mean... Make her even more roided!

I have a feeling he will make Jen moar of a roided monster

I can't wait to see how disgustin roid monster she will become
Roids, roids and again roids...

[hairylover321]

Just wanted to give this story a little "bump". I know Bert is working when he can and will add to this amazing story when possible. Can't wait!

[phil123]

Just wanted to give this story a little "bump". I know Bert is working when he can and will add to this amazing story when possible. Can't wait!

And wit all the Roids (since the last chapter) she will be bigger than ever.

[Quardepo]

Can't wait this is one of the hottest muscle lady stories I've ever read

[bertmacklinsbrother]

Happy New Years everyone!  Thanks again for all the patience.  My New Year's resolution is to start writing more.  My free time has been limited and life has been exhausting to the point where writing has been difficult.  But it's a new year, so let's start things off write!  Hope you enjoy after the long hiatus.  Don't be shy about leaving comments!

Beginning of Fall, 2009

"Amy," a high pitched shriek rang, attempting to pierce the noise of bustling voices and clanking dinner plates.  "Amy, Table 7 needs their beers and they're wondering why the nachos are taking so long?"

"Sorry, Gretchen," Amy called back, voice cracking into a lower register and booming far louder than she intended.  A few patrons bellying up at the bar peered behind the counter with curiosity.  Clearing her throat, she tried to speak a little more delicately.  "They're coming right out."

Even trying to lighten her voice a bit, the words still rang out in a low hum.  Amy cursed quietly, stifling back her frustration as beer continued to flow from the spigot into the fresh glasses.  Puddles of beer and broken glass littered the ground and she concentrated hard, trying not to add to the collection.

"C'mon, Amy," Amy muttered to herself, "You've done this a million times."  She carefully tipped the lever back and removed the beer glass from the tap.  However, she set the pint down on the counter with a little too much gusto, cracking the bottom and sending even more shards and beer oozing down to the floor.  "God dammit!"

As she yelled she slammed the rest of the tray of drinks down on the counter hard, causing the few successful drinks she had poured to explode all over her.  As the beer soaked into her baggy sweatshirt, she cussed angrily, feeling the rage boil up inside her with fierce speed.  Catching herself in the act, she looked around at the confused customers staring at her and decided to take a long, deep breath.  These days it seemed so easy for her to lose her cool.  Amy had always been so cheerful and bubbly, but lately, the tiniest things were setting her off and it was becoming harder and harder to control.

And her increased size and strength only made her more annoyed at the increasingly fragile world around her.  Those stupid glasses wouldn't have shattered if they weren't so flimsy.  And that chair she splintered last week while she was closing down the restaurant wouldn't have broke if it wasn't so cheap and rickety.  Controlling her new powerful, longer limbs was difficult, but Amy started to conclude that it wasn't just her brawn that was the problem; everything and everyone around her was just so...weak.  And for some reason, that really flared her anger.  She was surrounded by objects that were ready to break and people that were too small to handle her new body.   It was surprising that it took some new muscles to realize how pathetic everyone was.

She sighed as she looked down at her sweatshirt, now dripping with suds and booze.  It was becoming a lot more difficult to hide her muscles these days.  She still felt self-conscious about them and knew that they would definitely affect her tips.  Guys wanted a waitress that had a cute rack, a nice butt, and a trim tummy.  They wanted someone who was petite, dainty, and flirty, not someone who rivaled them in height and could beat them in arm wrestling.  With hesitancy, Amy removed her sopping sweats, lifting the ragged material over her head, revealing her Wiley's tank top underneath, and more importantly, her stunning arms and lats.

Several patrons that were at the bar front, and in perfect view of her body, began to chuckle and whoop, elbowing each other like drunken idiots.  Amy threw her ruined shirt to the ground with a sloppy thud and shot them a stern look.  They continued to let out a few snorts and laughs, but taking in the full breadth of her size made them reconsider their jeering and mockery.

Amy now stood 6' tall, taller than many of the guys in the place.  In the last few weeks, she had also packed on quite a bit more muscle, weighing in at 180 lbs of growing beef.  Her sleeveless Wiley's tank top did nothing to hide her glorious arms complete with bulging biceps and rounded delts.  And instead of her usual bountiful breasts being boasted in front, they had diminished down to B cups, the ratio of pec muscles to fatty tissue beginning to heavily favor the former.

" Amy!  Nachos!  Table 7! Hurry it up!" Gretchen's piercing voice shot through the crowd yet again.  Amy winced at the screeching noise.  Feeling another surge of rage boiling beneath the surface.  She clenched her fists tightly, knuckles turning white.  She knew how much destructive power she had in her meaty hands now; their quickly expanding size was part of the reason she was so clumsy lately.  She was sure she could punch Gretchen's skull clean off her head if she tried.  But with a quick sigh, she relaxed her shoulders, dropped her hands, and walked back into the kitchen as calmly as she could. 

As she walked back into the kitchen, she was greeted by Serena, a latino teen who couldn't have been more than 16 years old.

"Rough day, Amy?" Serena said with a smile as she used tongs to grab a fresh order of wings from the fryer and onto a plate.

"Yeah," Amy said, in a defeated tone, "I keep breaking things and Gretchen won't get off my case.  I'm going as fast as I can, but, well, I've been hitting the gym lately and I guess I don't know my own strength."

"I'll say," Serena giggled, eyeing Amy's bulging delts, "those guns could knock out any of the drunk assholes that walk into this place!  Maybe you could ask Tod if he'll give you some shifts as a bouncer?"

"Fuck you, Serena," Amy said in a low voice, fists balling once again, veins in her arms and neck beginning to throb.  "I'm so sick of people making fun of me today."

"Whoa, calm down, girl!" Serena said meekly in her slight accent, waving her hands, "I didn't mean any offense; I was half joking, and well, half sincere.  I'm pretty sure you're more intimidating than the regular bouncer we have on Saturdays... that guy couldn't punch a hole through a tissue.  Anyways, who else is giving you a hard time?"


Amy's shoulders slacked a bit and the anger simmered down yet again.  "Well, besides Gretchen just being a straight up bitch, the other girls have been saying some mean stuff to me.  Calling me 'butch' or laughing whenever I accidentally flex my arms while cleaning tables.  The guys at the bar are always snickering and staring too.  I just want to do my job."

"Here," Serena said, handing Amy a plate of nachos that had been waiting in the microwave.  "These were for my table, but they've only been waiting for a few minutes; they can wait a little longer.  You can take these to your table.  And if you want to bring this plate of wings to Table 4 while you're out there, I'll pour the rest of your beers for you."

"Really?"  Amy gasped, her bubbly personality making an appearance for the first time all day, "Oh my god, you're so sweet.  Seriously, thank you."

"Don't worry about it, hun," Serena smiled, "And don't let the other bitches get you down.  I think it's cool you're hitting the gym, and they're just jealous their arms are noodles compared to yours."

Amy nodded with a smirk, tears welling up a bit in her eyes.  She grabbed the Nachos and the wings and headed back out into the dining area.

"Took you long enough!" Gretchen shrilled.  Her high pitched voice was irritating Amy to no-end.  Every time she opened that squawking mouth of hers, Amy's fist clenched, wanting to smash her teeth in and shut her up. 

"Sorry," Amy muttered, the sound coming out as more of a growl than actual words.  "They got their food and Serena's bringing their beers... I'm just having a bad day."

"I don't care!  We have paying customers out here!  They can't be expected to wait just because you can't get your shit together."

"I said I was sorry," Amy grumbled again, lowly, knuckles beginning to go numb from how tight they were clenched.  Before the situation got worse, Amy chose to walk away.  Some of the patrons had peaked their heads over yet again.  Most were overhearing the argument, and likely wondering why such a small woman would pick a fight with a 6 foot tall monster like Amy.  But other guys were just watching Amy like she was a freak show, as if she was more entertaining than the football game on TV.

They eyed her up and down, looking at her muscled arms and thick tree-trunk thighs extending out of her booty shorts.  She hated feeling ridiculed and hated feeling ogled.  At least before when she was small and busty, she knew the guys were admiring her.  But this wasn't admiration; it was more like she was a science experiment to them.  They had to gather around and gawk to witness the freak in action.  Why was she going through with these tests?  Why did she let Jennifer talk her into doing these Feminox trials?  She felt so big and angry and had a suspicion she was the laughing stock of any room she walked into.

She supposed her changes made Brian happy, for some reason.  She still had trouble wrapping her head around his desire.  He was honest with her by telling her he preferred strong, athletic women.  Amy just had no idea what his metric was when he said "strong."  She had recently surpassed his 5'11 body in height and had a good 15 lbs on him to boot.  At this point, she was big enough for him, right?  Strong enough?

"I'm going on break," she called to no one in particular.  If Gretchen happened to hear, great, but at this point she didn't really care.  She needed the breather and the fresh air.  Stepping outside, she pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts for the right number.

"Hello, Ms. Harper?  It's me, Amy..." she spoke into the phone as she paced out on the sidewalk in front of Wiley's.  The autumn air was getting chilly, especially when the evening struck, but Amy hardly even noticed the cold breeze on her skin.  She was still quite wound up from the situation in the bar.  That, and her body temperature had been running quite warm these days.  "I'm the one currently doing the Feminox trials.  Jennifer introduced us earlier in the summer."

She continued to pace, back and forth.  "Yep, the blonde, that's me.  So, anyways, I think I want to...uh...quit taking the injections.  Uh huh.  No, you've been great; the company has been great.  It's just that the serum has been affecting my normal life a little too much and... Giving up!? I'm not giving up!  This stupid drug has ruined my day and it's ruined my body!  I'm not letting it ruin anything else!"

Amy suddenly found herself boiling with rage yet again; it really didn't take much to light her fuse.  She caught herself again and soothed her composure.  "Look, thanks for the opportunity and everything, I just don't think it's for me... Um, okay, sure.  I guess I can come in for one final screening; I guess I owe you that much.  Sorry.  Okay, see you tomorrow."

Hanging up her phone, she sighed, suddenly relieved.  She had a feeling she made the right choice.  Feminox seemed like an awesome company and they were going to be at the forefront of the future, that much was certain.  But Amy wasn't really certain she wanted to be part of that future.  She missed how things were.  She missed her co-workers getting along with her, she missed going to the beach with her friends and not feeling goofy in an undersized swimsuit.  She missed being looked at like a smoking hot chick and not like a lumbering, muscled freak.  And most of all, she missed not being so emotional all the time; things were so much simpler and she was always happy and positive.  She needed that back.

As she walked back into the bar, she worried how Brian might take the news.  I mean, she had grown enough for him, right?  She was the tall, strong woman that he said he liked... Being tall was pretty nice; she felt like a super model.  And maybe she'd keep the muscles for a little while, just to have some fun with Brian.  Then once he got his farewell, she'd work on losing weight; dieting, cardio workouts... anything to get rid of this awkward beef covering her body.

"What the hell, Amy?" Gretchen squawked as Amy entered, giving an exaggerated shrug.  "Table 7 is still waiting on their beers!"

"S-Serena was supposed to..." Amy muttered, caught off guard.

"That girl is already swamped!  She doesn't have time to do her job and yours!  You just walked away during our busy hour."

"What the hell, Gretchen?" Amy yelled, rage rising deep from within her gut, the volume of her voice growing and getting deeper, no longer able to fake a feminine tone.  "I told you I was going on break!  I just needed to make an emergency call.  Stop being such a bitch!"

The restaurant and bar area got a lot quieter; even the patrons pretending to watch the games on TV couldn't ignore the blow-out that was happening around them.  A lot of people turned to watch the argument unfold.

"What did you just call me?" Gretchen gasped, approaching Amy.  It must have looked a bit funny, watching a girl who was 5'3" and 115 lbs soaking wet storm over to a 6 foot tall giant with biceps the size of softballs.  "That's it.  I didn't want to do this today, but hell, I was going to do it this week anyways.  It could have been in the quiet back office, but if you want to do this here, we'll do this here."  Gretchen got up in Amy's face; at least to the best of her ability without using a stool.  "You are fired!"

"F-fired?!" Amy stammered, feeling her heart drop in her chest.  "Gretchen, c'mon, I need this job.  Look, I was out of line.  I shouldn't have talked back."

"Oh no," Gretchen laughed maniacally, "We're way past that!  Like I said Amy, this is a long time coming!  You just don't have your shit together anymore.  You drop drinks, you break plates, you destroy chairs; you don't want to know how much you've cost this place in the last two months.  And let's be honest, you're not exactly raking in the tips anymore.  If you want to join a gym, fine, but be a normal girl and just run on the treadmill!  The waitressing business isn't for chicks that want to look like dudes!"

"What did you just say to me?" Amy spoke slowly and quietly, her voice coming off deeper than she intended, which only served to hammer home Gretchen's remark.  Her composure went from regret to anger and suddenly she was grinding her teeth and clenching her big fists, once again.

"You heard me," Gretchen continued to chuckle, enjoying the show she was putting on for the patrons.  "No one wants their waitress to bench press kegs and be bulging out of their shirts!  They just want a cute pair of tits to serve them their drinks while they flirt!  Your breasts are tiny and your arms make you look like a man.  Sorry, but it's time you looked in a mirror and realized what you're doing to yourself."

"Y-you're just jealous!" Amy accused, anger and sadness creating a dangerous cocktail in her sensitive hormonal system.  "I'm in shape and you're not, so you're just being a dyke!  I don't look like a man!"  Her face began to shift to red and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hah!" Gretchen burst out, "That's rich!  Honey, I'm sorry, but dressed down and wearing a hat, you could pass for any one of these guys."  She motioned around the room, gesturing towards the various male onlookers.  "Hell, you're bigger than most of them!  Look, I didn't want to make this personal.  Bottom line, you're bad at your job and your looks are hurting our business.  Please just leave."

Amy stepped up to Gretchen, until she was right next to her, large muscular body looming over Gretchen's petite frame.  Gretchen's eyes came up right to Amy's (shrinking) breasts and Amy poked a single, long index finger into the woman's sternum.  "Why don't you make me leave."  Amy said it coolly, and deeply, in the most intimidating manner she could muster.  And it worked.  Gretchen's knees basically began to shake right in front of her.

"G-get out of my face, you freak!" Gretchen panicked and gave Amy a shove.  The full blow only managed to make Amy stumble back a few footsteps.  Amy began to laugh at the effort.

"Was that all your strength, you skinny bitch?"  Amy scoffed, putting her hands on her hips.  "Those little arms can hardly knock me off balance."  Amy's mixture of emotions was flooding to her head, causing her to get a little loopy.  Suddenly, she found herself unable to bite her tongue; she wanted to lash out and at this point, she was past the point of no return.  She walked back up to Gretchen and grabbed her by the armpits, slowly curling her until they were just about eye-level.

A few guys whooped and hollered at the display of strength.  Her biceps bulged and veins began to form, crawling up her forearms to her shoulders.  Other veins began spiderwebbing from her neck up to her forehead, throbbing and pulsing in tempo with her angered breaths.

"P-put me...down..." Gretchen stammered, shocked at what was happening.  She tried to wriggle free, shaking herself back and forth, but her efforts did nothing to loosen Amy's mighty gorilla grip.  "I'll call the cops!"

"Are you now?"  Amy said mockingly, "I wonder how you're going to dial the phone?"  A confused look crossed Gretchen's face as Amy set her back down with a thud.  But before Gretchen could make a run for it, Amy's large hands slid down Gretchen's arms until they were cupping her hands.  Her palms and fingers were so tiny compared to Amy's growing paws.  Amy began to squeeze.

"O-ow!  Ow!  What the fuck?! Let go!  Owww!" Gretchen howled as Amy's hold tightened, creating an audible pop as several of Gretchen's fingers broke in her vice grip.  Amy let go and sent her off with a light shove, though with her uncontrollable strength, a light shove was enough to send the girl careening into a bar table, toppling over a few drinks, empty plates of food, and stools. 

"Oh my god!  Oh my god!  My fingers!" Gretchen cried, tears streaming down her face as she laid on the ground, covered in beer swill.  "What did you do?!"

"Anyone want to call the cops?!" Amy yelled, turning around to a bar full of slightly drunk men who were all too cowardly to get involved.  No one spoke up or even made a move.  They just sat and watched, to scared to blink or finish their drinks.  "That's what I thought."

Amy picked up a bar stool and slammed it down on the ground, splintering the wood with a crash.  She walked towards the back room and gave a table a hefty shove along the way, sending it careening into other tables, listening to the satisfying sounds of shattered glass and broken wood behind her.  A devious smile crossed her face.  It felt so good to finally have an outlet for her rage. 

"Oh my god!" Serena came out from the kitchen, holding her hand over her mouth.  "What the hell happened?!"

Amy didn't say a word and instead strutted up to Serena silently, holding her cold gaze as she approached, quickly dwarfing the girl as they came toe to toe.  She reached down with a powerful arm and grabbed Serena by the collar, pulling her in and upwards, holding her close enough to taste her breath.

"You said you were going to bring the beers to Table 7," Amy muttered angrily, yet with a sadistic smile on her face. 

"I-I'm sorry!  I got sidetracked!  I was doing a dozen other things and..."

"I lost my job because of you!"  Amy grit her teeth, lifting Serena up even higher as the poor girl began to gasp.

"I...didn't...mean to...please...please..." Serene begged, the sound of her pleading soothing Amy's fiery temper.  The power.  The power was so nice.  With a few blinks, she lowered Serena back to the ground, gave her a bubbly smile, and walked to the back room to grab her coat and purse.

"Gretchen needs a doctor... you might need to drive her to the hospital."  With that Amy left Serena, the teen's hand covering her mouth once again.

"I hope this place burns to the ground!" Amy called out to all the patrons as the stormed out of the building, leaving the place a wreck in her wake.  With a powerful kick, she smashed the door open and strutted out into the cool evening weather.

A smile was fixed on Amy's face; she chuckled to herself as she reflected on what she just did.  Broke her manager's hands, trashed a bunch of tables and glasses, almost crushed Serena... left an entire room of grown men in silence from her display of strength and dominance.  It was a rush that she couldn't quite describe.  After months of slow building, uncontrollable anger, she finally had let off all that steam.  It felt amazing.

She was now jobless and might even have the cops banging on her door if Gretchen had the balls to call the cops on her, but she never felt more alive.  With her coat and purse clasped in her mighty hands, Amy decided it was a nice night to jog home.

--

"Babe?" I called as I heard the apartment door slam open.  I peaked to the walkway to see Amy stomping in, throwing her coat in the closet and kicking her shoes off with a hefty sigh.  "Did your shift end early?  I thought you'd be working all night?"

"Oh Brian," Amy whisked over to me with heavy, quick footsteps.  Her long legs reached me in no time and in an instant I was pulled into a hug that took the wind out of my lungs.  "I had the best day!"

"I'm...glad!" I squeaked from the constriction.  She put me down and bounced up and down excitedly.  "So... what happened?  What made it so great?"

"Well!" Amy grabbed me by the hand and dragged me over to the couch, the force of her pull nearly sending me to the ground.  She sat down on the sofa and gave another tug, sending my body toppling onto her lap.  I didn't question it and instead decided it was best not to interrupt.  Far be it from me to complain when Amy finally showed a little dominance.  "I got fired because I was breaking too much stuff and the other girls have been saying I'm not getting enough tips from being too ugly.  So, I broke both of Gretchen's hands and then I trashed the place!  It was so cool!  Her fingers were pulverized so easily; I barely had to squeeze!  And with just a little shove, I was sending tables flying!  None of the men in the place had the courage to stand up to me!  I might have gotten a little carried away when I almost choked Serena.  She's a sweet girl and she didn't mean to get me fired.  She was only trying to help... but wow, I lifted her up by the collar like the bullies do in movies!  It was crazy!  Such a rush!"

Amy finally stopped to take a breath while I digested all of the information.  Did I really just hear my girlfriend excitedly explain how she broke her boss's hands and destroyed the bar she worked at?  She sounded so proud of herself; the same bubbly Amy I've always known, but with a slightly power-crazy coating.

"Well," I said carefully, wary not to illicit a negative reaction from my clearly savage girlfriend.  "That's great that you've, uh, come to embrace your strength!"

"Now I feel like I finally get it, Brian!"  She beamed, bouncing a bit with her enthralled words.  I bounced along with her as I was still planted firmly on her lap.  "I can see why you have been trying to convince me that Feminox was a good thing.  I still don't really like how I'm getting taller and losing my breasts, and I really wish these muscles didn't make me look so dude-ish... but my body has never felt so good!  I have this unexplainable energy!  I guess I had been burying deep away, along with all my frustrations, but letting it loose is like nothing I've ever experienced!"

"Well," I spoke carefully once again, "You need to be aware of not letting loose at the wrong times... for instance, um, you may not want to have broken Gretchen's hands..."

"That bitch had it coming," Amy waved my words away as if they were inconsequential.  "She fired me and called me a man.  I'm done with that place now anyways.  I finally realized what Jennifer has been trying to show me; I can do anything!  I've been wasting my life being a waitress, but I have the power to do whatever I want!  Literally!  I'll have to call Ms. Harper again and tell her I want to resume the trials..."

"Ms. Harper?" I mused, "You were going to quit?"

"Yeah, I was feeling so emotional; I was bottling everything up.  I called her and said that I was going to stop.  She told me it was fine as long as I came in for one last check-up.  I had a feeling you'd be upset with my decision, but I wanted my old life back."

"So, you're... not quitting?" I pondered, relieved with her choice, but worried it may have been for the wrong reasons.  "I want you to make sure this is what you want... you have a second chance now.  They gave you permission to quit and now you can make this decision for you.  Not for Jennifer, not for me, but for you!"

"I've never been so certain," Amy smiled widely with a nod.  "I have the whole world ahead of me... all of it can be mine!  I'm pretty strong right now, but damn, I bet with more time, I could take on armies!"

A wildfire was brewing in her eyes.  This was getting a bit worrisome.  As excited as I was to hear Amy had finally accepted the program, she was also acting out of tune from the Amy I started dating.  She had been starved for power all her life.  Small, weak, fragile; ready to please guys before thinking of herself and doomed to live on a minimum wage salary at a sleazy bar.  It was shocking what a small taste of power could do to a woman like that.  Let's just say, I'm glad she's on my side.

"I'm proud of you," I said calmly, laying my head back on her bountiful breasts.  These days they weren't so bountiful with actual breast, but instead packed with muscular flesh.  Just the way I preferred it.  I didn't know what this would lead to.  I envisioned a fun future for us, with Amy looking Jennifer; big, masculine, hairy, and dominant.  It was a future I knew I could be happy with.  But in that picture, I had still always been in control; Amy's ears and eyes to help guide her along the right path.  She was never the brightest light bulb on the tree, so I was usually there to tell her what to do and to think for her.  Now I realized that Amy was going to be blazing her own path, and I just hoped she'd tolerate me sticking along for the ride.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Well, looks like Amy is becoming more aggressive to go along with the strength and muscles, I'm not against that, though I would say if it results in someone, especially her boyfriend, winding up extremely hurt, then it might not be the best of things. Hopefully she can learn to control her strength and her rage in the future. But as far as the rest of it, I'm totally into it and look forward to more. k+!

[bertmacklinsbrother]

Well, looks like Amy is becoming more aggressive to go along with the strength and muscles, I'm not against that, though I would say if it results in someone, especially her boyfriend, winding up extremely hurt, then it might not be the best of things. Hopefully she can learn to control her strength and her rage in the future. But as far as the rest of it, I'm totally into it and look forward to more. k+!

Thanks for reading!  I agree with you; I'm not too into violence.  But I did enjoy writing about Amy learning to cut loose and use her strength, and I love giving her the "extra rage" angle.  It's a good contrast to Jennifer, who is a calm, rational, scientific person.  Amy is the opposite; she's bubbly, emotional, and a bit of a spas.  Makes sense that the roid rage would be extra potent in her