★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] Stories~collected

[El_Roy_1999]

 

Stories in this collection:

The Freshman 15

*Five "Short" Stories*

    The Big Short

    Short "Cross-Post" Story #1 | #LRGclit

    Short "Cross-Post" Story #2

    Short "Cross-Post" Story #3 - The Titans

    Eulogy - Experimental Short Story #FMG

Decadenz - Translated from German

Pumping Lena - Translated from German

Milkshake

To the Limit

In a different thread, someone threw out the term "The Freshmen 15"... which made me think that if I'd spent a little less time drinking and a little more time in the gym, my "freshmen 15" could have been a pair of big biceps rather than an additional 15lbs on my ass! lol

So this thought seemed like a GREAT theme for a story about a young girl's entry into college and introduction to the weight room where she transforms her body weak and skinny to strong and muscular... featuring a pair of rock-solid 15" biceps!

I may take a crack at writing something myself (time permitting), but I thought it would be a fun idea to share the theme with the writers on the Forum to see if we could get a couple different versions.

So who's interested?

This is just a little something I knocked together in no time. It's not polished or anything and could and should be expanded upon.

The Freshman 15
by El_Roy_1999
_______________________

"And be careful. You're going to lose your figure if you overdo it." Her older sister's words still rang in her ears. She could understand that. Lea's journey into adipose-land had begun during her first year.
Of course, she had ignored her. Three months later, she was desperately spending her time learning, eating and occasionally partying and realized she had been wrong. At four o'clock in the morning, she looked at herself in the mirror, eyes swimming, head aching and vowed to stop this. She'd go to the gym. Tomorrow.
She would have gone, if she hadn't had such a mind-shattering hangover, but as it was, she ended up in a lecture, barely registering the professor's words. As she crawled out, he called her out.
"I'm sorry to say this, but you don't look good."
"I'm really hungover. I'm sorry for not paying attention."
"Honestly, this should be the least of your worries. Trust me: You should go to bed now, get a good night's sleep and go there. Otherwise, you're not going to make it."
She looked at the card he gave her.
"Do you tell this all your students?"
"Only those I'd have to mop up at the end of the term. Now scram!"

The next morning, she felt rested. She looked at herself in the mirror, inspected her flab and grumbled. Then, she pulled the card out of her discarded pants, looked at it and read:
"Freshman 15. Make it 15 pounds of power!"
She thought "whatever", pulled on her comfy clothes and clambered on her bike after a spartan breakfast. Her roommate had eaten most of the edible food and she really didn't like the rest.
Freshman 15 turned out to be a small door to a semi-adapted loft in the meh! part of the city. She rang the bell. There wasn't even a sound. She knocked. Nothing. She pushed the door and it swung open. Mysterious ... She walked inside, surprised to hear some radio music playing in the shadows. She discovered another door and opened it, revealing a large hall, clearly the former factory floor. There were five women a little older than her and they were working out. With weights. They were VERY fit. As in muscular. As in 80ies style retro muscular. Their hair was modern, though. They finished their routine and one of them turned to her and said:
"Hi. What do you want?"
"Is this Freshman 15?"
"Sure. It says so on the door."
"Actually, it says 'keep out' on the door."
A shorter woman interjected:
"It fell down again. I told you we should screw it in. The hot glue is crap."
"Whatever." She turned back to the intruder. "So?"
"My professor told me to come here. It sounded like a self help group."
"It is, skinnyfat."
"Don't call me that."
"Then don't be that way. Grab some weights and hit it!"

Three months later, she was really getting into it. Rope-skipping, weightlifting, crossfittish routines and clean eating had torn the flab away and left her with a tight, muscular physique. She had gained 15 pounds, but hard lean muscle.
She was standing in the circle with her friends, going through the reps. She was at their level and quite happy with it, but then, out of nowhere, she said:
"You know what?"
"What?"
"I thought about it. This is Freshman 15. Fifteen pounds of muscle. So far, so good. But why not 15" of biceps?"
"I guess that would make it Freshman 50?"

[El_Roy_1999]

Just a short story I was commissioned to write and which some of you might enjoy. More of a vignette, really.

The Big Short
by El_Roy_1999
______________________________

“Hi.” Martin slowly opened the door. He peeked inside. “Is Miles there?”
He was surprised that the door was open. For him, it was always a bit weird to walk into other people’s rooms like that. Most people were scared when they saw him first. Seriously, he did look like Slenderman, especially when he wore a suit. Now, he was just standing there in his shorts and t-shirt, showcasing his endless thin legs. Martin was really tall, 6’9”, but weighed only 145 pounds. He really tried to eat more and bulk up, but it just didn't take. So he was stuck like this.
He asked again:
“Is Miles around?”
Only now, there was a reaction. On the couch, there was a very short, very heavy-set woman. She looked up and said:
“Nah. He’s gone to buy supplies. But he’ll be back. You’re Martin, aren't you?” Up above, he nodded. “I’m Seo-yun, but most people call me Sonya. Come in and have a seat. You make me nervous, standing around like this.”
He nodded. She did look really nice. She probably was Miles’ girlfriend. He hadn't mentioned her, but then, Miles was a bit secretive. Sonya smiled and patted the couch pillow next to her. She had long black hair, arranged into a braid. The woman must have been 18 years old, maybe a little younger. She wore no make-up, but she somehow managed to still look hot. What caught Martin’s eyes next was her body. Seriously, what a shape!
Sonya was broadly built. She had to be really short, maybe 4’5”, but he couldn't tell since she was sitting. However, she was massive. She caught his eye and said:
“220 pounds.”
“What?”
“That’s what I weigh. You were about to ask.”
“No …”
“Don’t lie to me. Everybody asks.”
She lifted her short legs. Martin stared at them as she set in motion the biggest pair of calves he had ever seen. Even track cyclists looked skinny next to those. Each calf muscle was almost the size of a cantaloupe, making them 26 inches around. She grinned and declared:
“So, skinny legs, how does it feel to meet someone whose legs weigh as much as you do?”
“I’m impressed.”
“Yeah, most people are. Come on, help me up.”
He got up, took her bulging arms and pulled her from the sofa. Actually, he tried, but he found that that didn't work that way. She asked:
“What’s going on?”
“I’m afraid I’m too light for you.”
“Seriously? What do you weigh?”
“A third, maybe?”
“Geez! Wait, I’ll do it on my own.”
She turned around on the sofa, abruptly displaying her rock-hard humongous booty. She wore some very short shorts that barely covered her cheeks and she had these gigantic thighs, each as large around as his entire torso. When she finally stood, the situation was ridiculously bizarre. He was half again as tall as she was, but her thick, powerful body was so huge he actually appeared to be less imposing than her. It took her a moment to find a stance that was comfortable for her. Arranging her 36-inch thighs took a while. She looked up and said:
“Yeah, you’re pretty tall.”
“You’re not the first to tell me.”
She grinned:
“So, how’s the air up there?”
“Ha. Very funny.”
From far above, his erect thumb descended on her.
“Sorry, it’s just funny to see someone who’s my total opposite.”
He nodded. That she was.
“So, you’re Miles’ girlfriend?”
“Nah. He just offered to help me with my cheerleader uniform.”
“You’re a cheerleader?”
“Nah. I just want one for a photo shooting.”
“And Miles can sew that?”
“It’s one of his talents. He’s gone to get some more fabric for the jacket, he didn't expect my back to be so big. Want to see what we've got for now?”
Martin couldn't believe his ears. He tried to conceal his fascination:
“Sure. If you don’t mind.”
“Cool. I’ll be back in a second.”
She waddled into the back room. After a while, he heard a slight commotion. She returned, looking a little frustrated. She wore a tight top that did nothing to conceal her incredible torso, but what was even more impressive was the tiny skirt that barely shaded her butt-cheeks and her monster-thighs. She said:
“I’ll need some help with the socks. I can’t seem to reach. Could you?”
He nodded and knelt down. On his knees, he was as tall as she was. She lifted her leg and showed him her toes, twinkling them with a grin. He took the sock and rolled it up in his hand. The thing was really big. It had a tiny foot, but an enormous fabric tube to go up to her knees. He hesitated. She egged him on:
“What are you waiting for?”
He slipped the sock on her foot and rolled it up. As he began climbing her enormous calf, he turned crimson. She looked at him, her sweet face right at his height.
“Whoa, you’re really enjoying this, aren't you, big man?”
“I can’t say I don’t.”
He reached the end. The fabric clung to her insane muscles like saran wrap.
“Do the other one.”
By the time he was done with that one, his ears were scarlet and his pulse was hammering against his temple.
When he was done, she slipped into the neat little red shoes and stood in front of him, her mind-bending body in full splendor.
“I should probably go ‘Rah!’ ‘Rah!’ now.”
He was still amazed.
“How did you get so big?”
“I dunno. It just sort of happened. It’s not like I go to the gym or anything. I should try once, probably.” She looked at him: “Say, wanna have a competition? We lie on our backs and put our feet together, and then we push?”
“Seriously? You’re going to shoot me right across the room like that.”
She laughed:
“Probably.”
In that moment, Miles returned. He apologized profusely for being away, but when he saw how Sonya and Martin looked at each other, he decided to calm down and let them work out things amongst themselves.
He did take a picture of him standing behind her, though. His chin and her forehead with plenty of his chest in between.

[El_Roy_1999]

Hey, this is a really nice story. I'd love to see a continuation of it.

I'm glad you like it. It was a commission, so it wasn't really my idea. Maybe I'll add to it later.

[El_Roy_1999]

So I got inspired and wrote this. I think you might enjoy it. Thank you, Isle8e2!

Short "Cross-Post" Story #1
by El_Roy_1999
_________________________

It had started innocently enough. Melanie's husband, John, a big strong hunk of a man had his best friend and colleague over for dinner. Jefferson, a lawyer at the same firm, was equally tall and powerful, also quite charming in his own way. His wife, Diane, was more of an ice princess. She was an equally accomplished advocate and Melanie immediately found her unpleasant. It took a few bottles of champagne to relax everybody. As the men took out their cigars and enjoyed their whisky, Melanie and Diane stepped outside on the balcony overlooking the city. Diane admired the view and said:
"That's beautiful. I wanted Jefferson to buy us one of these too, I would have paid half, but he insisted on a house in the country."
Melanie was still a little wary, she was afraid that university-educated super-emancipated woman would ridicule her, but she conceded:
"It must be nice, though."
"Certainly. The commute is hell. But on weekends, it's wonderful. You'll have to visit us soon, maybe in autumn. The place is gorgeous when the leaves turn red."
"I'd like that."
Melanie had to revisit her first impression. She had expected Diane to humiliate her and to despise her for her beautiful looks, she was, after all, a former model. But no. Instead, she was friendly and respectful. Melanie brushed her long dark hair to the side with her fingers and said:
"The men sure love their cigars."
Diane smiled:
"They do. If I may be honest, I'm surprised Jefferson hasn't yet suggested a foursome."
Melanie was a little shocked. She hadn't expected her guest to say anything like that.
"He does that?"
"A lot. And if I'm not in, he'll usually just do it anyway."
"Wow. And you put up with that?"
"He has certain qualities: He's charming, he can cook, he's intelligent, ambitious, and he's got a big cock."
The ex-model was growing more and more intrigued. She was used to John's sexual escapades, she had known a lot of coked-up assholes when she worked as a model, but talk like that from a woman like her? Seriously?
"Well, I can't complain about John either."
Diane smiled:
"You know what, I actually expected you to be some kind of bimbo when Jefferson showed me your picture. I'm pleasantly disappointed."
"Me too. You know what, we could do something together."
"That's a wonderful idea. I have my gym day tomorrow. Want to join me?"
Melanie grinned:
"That's a date then!"

They met the next day. It was an upper-class gym complete with full-sized swimming pool, spa area and personal trainers. Melanie expected nothing less. Her own gym provided the same. Somehow, the foursome had failed to materialize yesterday. She was a bit relieved, but also disappointed. Jefferson's dick had been quite tempting. Maybe next time.
Diane led her to the locker rooms. She slipped out of her business outfit. Melanie was surprised again. She herself had a well trained model body. Of course, that was what she was about. She had a pair of big round boobs which she had only recently upgraded to double-ds, a tight waist and a taut butt. She was fit. She had to be. Diane was impressive too. She was quite a bit older, at least fifteen years, but she was well-trained and there was not an inch to pinch. She had small, tight breasts, natural, and a strong, slim body. There was the hint of some abs to be spotted on her trim waist. With her blonde, short hair, she looked much younger than she was.
Melanie couldn't help but say:
"Wow! You look gorgeous!"
"Thank you. You too."
"No, seriously. You're really toned."
"It's a lot of hard work."
"It sure pays off."
They got out, Melanie in a skimpy workout top and some tight pants, Diane preferring more standard fare.
The pair hit the weights and had to agree that they both liked to train hard. When they were done, they were both exhausted, but the bonding was feeling good. Melanie said:
"How about we go to my gym the day after tomorrow?"
"That's a great idea. I wanted to up my training schedule, so I'll just do it right now."

Within a few weeks, the two women forged a surprisingly strong bond. Melanie took Diane out shopping and had her try exotic and interesting food, Diane insisted on some culture events which Melanie found she could enjoy. All the while, they kept up their training.
Eventually, autumn came. As promised, the two couples met at the mansion. It was a splendid time. The leaves were a firework of colors, the air was crisp and chilly, the blaze in the fireplace was wonderful. Then, after Jefferson had finished serving dinner, he popped the question:
"How about we all get a little more comfortable?"
John agreed immediately. The women hesitated, but eventually nodded. Soon, they were at it all over the place. John and Jefferson clearly knew what they were doing and quickly directed the women. Melanie had to agree that Jefferson's cock was very impressive. It was a little thinner than John's, but a good deal longer. Blowing him was quite the experience. Diane was enjoying a pounding by her husband at the same time. It was incredible to hear as she egged him on. This woman was quite the machine herself.
After a while, it was all over. The men lay there, spent and tired. The women felt strangely unsatisfied. Of course, they had come. Jefferson had proven that he was very skilled with his tongue too, and John had done his best to amaze Diane, but something was missing. They walked downstairs in the cold kitchen.
Melanie said:
"That was something. You're really lucky."
"I can only return the compliment. He's quite the hunk."
"Yeah, I know."
There was a pause. Diane said:
"Actually, I think Jefferson's getting a bit plump."
"I couldn't say."
"No, seriously. I like my men big and muscled. It's a kind of fetish, if you know what I mean."
"I think I understand."
"We should get them to train more."
"Probably. We'll see how that works out."

It didn't. Even trying to broach the subject was met with immediate resistance. They had no time, they were busy, they didn't think this was necessary. They were men enough.
For the women, this was disappointing. They kept up their training appointments religiously and it was paying off. One day, after a particularily hard workout, Melanie found herself oggling Diane's now fully developed six-pack.
"Incredible."
"I know, right? I've really focused my workouts on my midsection and it's finally paying off."
"I like it. Can I touch them? I have to get myself some of these too."
"Only if I get your butt."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, it's gorgeous. So taut. Like a bubble of muscles."
"Whoa."
"Sorry. I just wish Jefferson would still work on his. It's really starting to droop."
"That's sad. With John, it's the same. He's getting plump lately."
They sighed. It was sad to see that their men were getting unattractive.
Still, they continued their meetings and intensified their workouts. John and Jefferson didn't really care and most certainly didn't notice. Within a year, the two women had transformed their bodies further. After a lot of hard training, they were both seriously ripped. They both sported washboard abs, tight buttocks and easily visible biceps. The men liked the look, especially Jefferson seemed amazed by his wife's apparent eternal youth.
However, all was not perfect. They hit a plateau. A long and tiring plateau. There were no gains to be made anymore. It was getting on their nerves. Why couldn't they grow any further? All the hard training seemed to go to waste.
Eventually, Diane said:
"I've been thinking. For two months, I've basically maintained when I wanted to grow. I hate that."
"Me too."
For Melanie, working out had become an obsession. She had to admit that she had started to project Diane's strong physique on John's increasingly flabby body when they fucked. She really needed something more.
"So I've decided to try some drugs."
"Isn't that unfair?"
"For whom? This isn't a competition."
"That's true."
"I just want to make some progress and I think this is what I need."
"Can I have some too."
Diane nodded.
"Of course. I wouldn't do it without you."

It was as if the floodgates had been opened. Within weeks, they made tremendous progress. Just watching them grow made them hot. Diane almost immediately went from fitness to light bodybuilder. Melanie found it hard to keep up at first, but once she understood how everything worked, she was in too.
Soon, their bodies were hard and covered in bulging muscles. The outfits they wore in public managed to conceal their transformation mostly, but in bed, things were different. John finally realized what was going on as Melanie was blowing him, fantasizing about Diane's enormously muscled thighs. He asked:
"Say, have you been working out?"
She almost choked on his dick. That was so stupid. How could he not notice?
With Diane, it was the same. She closed her eyes as Jefferson was above her, pounding her snatch. She thought of Melanie's strong shoulders, the striations under her skin. She just barely managed to add her husband's face mentally. Somehow, this almost blocked her orgasm.
Back at the gym, they pumped harder and harder, unwittingly trying to shape themselves into their respective fantasies. The changes, which had been abrupt at first, became gradual. It took them a while to notice that their voices had dropped.
Diane, who already had a deeper voice in the first place, was now a deep alto. Melanie was closing in on her. The other thing were their clits. They had slowly, but steadily become larger. Now, after half a year of hardcore training and steroids, they had turned into little cocks, maybe an inch long. It was odd to see their appendages in the shower. The fact that they were ridiculously sensitive made the situation even more bizarre.
When Jefferson looked at Diane and asked whether she had done anything to her face, it became clear to her that her chin had also grown. Indeed, her jaw had grown a little bigger and it certainly gave her a more rugged, dominant look. In court, people seemed a little more intimidated than previously. That wasn't a bad thing.
For Melanie, the transformation was a little disconcerting, but she did what she could by carefully contouring. Besides, her body was now a mass of powerful muscle, complete with fifteen-inch biceps and a broad chest that supported her very obvious fake tits. John was clearly aware of this now and he was trying to keep his distance. For her, his slob body being away from her was fine.

"Be careful, you're going to cut me."
They were sitting in the bath together and Diane was shaving Melanie's back. The former model's broad shoulders and tight waist created a he-man taper. Just removing all the hair from her back was incredibly time-consuming. Melanie asked:
"Shouldn't we just get laser treatments, just like in the face?"
"We could, but then I wouldn't get to sit behind you and shave you, would I?"
"And you enjoy this?"
"More than you think."
When she was done, they clumsily switched places. Their bodies were now big enough to compete in the heavyweight division. Melanie had had her implants removed. They had started to look ridiculous on her. They had also shaved their heads and resorted to wigs. The ex-model insisted on thorough styling and a tailor-made wardrobe that allowed them to look and feel feminine in public. In private, it was a different affair. They were wildly in love with each other's bodies and true friends of each other's souls.
The men had become estranged after a while. When they used a massive double-headed dildo to fuck each other, they thought of their husbands somehow. And yet, there they were, having turned themselves into each other's ideals.
After their bath, they both got out and carefully helped each other to dry themselves. Their bodies were now so massive they just couldn't reach some parts on their own. Melanie went to fix their food, wearing nothing more than an apron. Meanwhile, Diane answered the phone. She nodded, then replied and hung up.
She walked up to her friend and gently kissed Melanie's bull-neck. The other woman moaned immediately as her older friend's muscle-packed chest touched her own gargantuan back.
"I have great news."
"Tell me ..."
Diane suddenly licked Melanie's bald head.
The little stubbles pricked her tongue.
"I found a solution to our problem."

A while later, the pair was getting prepped for surgery. It was a revolutionary technique, only available in Iran, of all things. Still, this was worth the trip. As the two gargantuan women drifted into unconsciousness, they smiled. They would finally fulfil their ideal.
After weeks of healing, it was time. Melanie bit her lips as Diane carefully removed the bandages. This hadn't been very comfortable. The long abstinence, the complications with their hygiene, the missed workouts, all this was highly annoying. And yet, it might pay off.
"There ..." Diane was finally done. She carefully released the last bit of bandage. Melanie craned her head to see over her bulging pecs. Wow. There it was. The surgery was a tremendous success. The surgeon had transformed her inch-long clit into a gigantic, thick she-cock. The thing was easily twelve inches long and six inches around. It was big and thick and it hung over her pussy. She said:
"Now you."
With utmost care, she liberated Diane's own she-dick. Once again, the surgeon had produced a marvel. At ten inches, it was shorter than hers, but it was even thicker, spreading her pussy lips apart wide.
"Whoa. It's so ... big."
"I think it's even bigger than Jefferson's."
"I wanna try it."
Before Diane could say something, Melanie had engulfed her appendage. It felt wonderful to have her soft lips on her member. Her amazement knew no bounds when it started to rise. She hadn't believed it would work, but when it did, it was shocking, but also soothing. Soon, her massive femdick was proudly erect and throbbing. Melanie was having a hard time deep-throating her, but she was doing her best.
Diane gasped as she came. She pulled the muscular goddess to the floor and brought her into a sixty-nine position. Alternately licking each other's cunts and clits, the pair rode through orgasm after orgasm. Their muscular bodies seemed to fuse into a confusing mess of fibers, striations and veins.
Eventually, Melanie was on top of her friend, pounding her cunt hard while also masturbating Diane's cock feverishly.
The fucking thundered through the entire apartment. Carefully directing their she-cocks into each other's pussies, they managed to fuck each other at the same time, their heavy, over-muscled bodies thumping on the ground.
Somewhere along the way, their husbands had disappeared. As they lay on the floor of the balcony, gazing at the stars above, they kissed. Diane caressed Melanie's incredible chest and said:
"You're all I ever need."
The other woman sighed and smiled:
"I never would have believed it, but that's how it is. I love you."
She touched Diane's overloaded thigh, making her femdick shiver.
"Me too."

[El_Roy_1999]

Given my authorial output, I don't think it's much of a surprise... But I love this! Great story and I loved the journey in it. Well done!

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[El_Roy_1999]

So I did the other one too. I hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you, Isle8e2, for the inspiration!

Short "Cross-Post" Story #2
by El_Roy_1999
_______________________________

It was expected of men like him. Not that being gay was seen as a problem, but Desmond was straight, as far as he was concerned. He just hadn't had either the time or the opportunity to meet women interesting enough for him. He had studied mathematics and engineering, evolving from a zit-ridden nerd into an efficient CEO of his own company within a few years. Gone were the metal band t-shirts and the grubby clothes. In a world of superficial idiots, being well-dressed was necessary if you wanted to be listened to. He had understood that very well. As a result, he joined a gym, worked out just enough to look good in a suit (that didn't take much) and got a stylish haircut that made him look both professional and responsible. The changes produced an appropriate effect soon enough and the money was pouring in. A series of clever investments on his part and he had a small fortune. So far, so good.
But then, people started asking: Where's your wife? His parents didn't care, they had long since accepted that their son had other interests, but his business partners really preferred their relations to be "normal". He had tried some professional companions, and that had worked quite well, but it didn't fulfil him in any way. It was just something he had to do. He didn't put his heart in it. There was just something ... amiss.
All this changed when he met Alexandra. It was on a party because of some award he received. Usually, most women he met on such occasions just tried to flirt with him awkwardly, sometimes trying to lure him in with some faked knowledge or even trivia questions. Alexandra was different. At first, he didn't realize it. Like many single women at such parties, she was tall, six feet plus some heels, thin and busty. She had long brown hair, perfect make-up and a very tight, yet stylish black dress.
She approached him without hesitation and asked:
"So you're the birthday kid?"
"It's just an award."
"I know. I'm pretty sure you don't care about this, do you?"
"Actually, you're right. I'm just here so people can make certain I'm one of them."
"And are you?"
"Well, I'm not sure."
She smiled. It was a very nice, earnest smile. Of course, her teeth were Hollywood-perfect and her lips were perfectly made-up.
"Maybe we should find out."
"What do you mean?" Desmond was confused.
"I'll be honest. I've been stalking you for a while now. And if there's one thing I've noticed, it's that you're looking for something and you don't know what."
He nodded slowly. She was right.
"Alexandra."
She held out her hand. He took her and she came a little closer.
"I've learned that exploration is easier if you're with a partner."

They got married a month later. For Alexandra, this was her big break. She was smart herself, having focused on administration and economics, but also creating a network of contacts for her to use. She was pretty certain Desmond was hiding some desire and she would help him figure it out. The funny part for her was that she was quite flexible in such things. She had used her college years to try out pretty much everything, threesomes, BDSM, sex in exotic locations and getting fucked into almost every orifice. She didn't mind. Far from it. What actually turned her on was turning someone on. And the kinkier, the better. To herself, she stated she had a fetishism-fetishism.
Of course, this wasn't something she made public. Instead, she stayed discreet and did her best not to pressure Desmond into anything. She'd just suggest some things and let him try those out. It turned out that that didn't work. Somehow, he was a mystery to her. He worked a lot, travelling all over the world to make his business work. She accompanied him eagerly and while he was expanding his company, she had the chance to see the sights and enjoy life. Still, she felt as if she was abusing his trust in some way. After all, what did he gain from this?
She was his arm-candy at official occasions and made a wonderful hostess to his invitees, camouflaging his inability to make them comfortable. But still, he was a mystery. She decided to find out, even if it meant baiting him. She started letting various books and movies lie around and gauged his interest. She asked him. Nothing. She even installed some spyware on his computer to find out what he was looking at. No results whatsoever. Of course, that didn't mean much. As a computer nerd, he probably could have fed her with any data he wanted.
In the end, it was a coincidence that broke the spell. They had been invited by a Mongolian tycoon. They were at his ranch or whatever it was, actually just a bunch of tents. The great outdoors were wonderful. They went hunting, something which she didn't mind. Her father had insisted early on that she was able to defend herself and she did shoot quite well. Desmond saw her skin the poor beast, her face an icon of concentration.
Later that evening, they lay in the tent. It was large and comfortable. Suddenly, he asked:
"Say, could you use less make-up?"
She smiled:
"Right now? I was absolutely made-under today."
"No. I mean yes. I mean ... Maybe always?"
"Why?"
"I don't know. It just ... looks better."
"How come?"
"I don't know. It's less ... girly."
He was really relieved to be able to say this. Somehow, he couldn't really bring himself to like all that flimsy stuff. She looked at him for a moment and saw his happiness.
"Okay. I'm in. From now on, less make-up. Except on official occasions."

And then, they fucked. Desperately. Happily. It was really great. Alexandra was all surprised. Who'd have thought?
From then on, she did what she could to get this to work. At home, she eschewed all beauty products. Desmond loved it. For her, it was a bit strange. It had become so normal for her that she couldn't help being surprised by her own look over the first weeks. It was a nice change of pace.
After a while, the novelty wore off. Desmond was still happy, but he had gotten used to it. However, he was thinking a lot about his desires and she noticed that he wanted to say something.
They were on the West Coast then, at the private beach of a friend whose wife was an authentic California blonde, complete with big boobs and a trim, athletic body. Of course, she wore a red swimsuit. Desmond and Alexandra were lying on the deckchairs, watching Ellie, the hostess, and her friends play volleyball. Alexandra said:
"You're trying to tell me something."
"Is it that obvious?"
"As obvious as Ellie's fake tits."
"Oh."
"Don't worry. Just tell me. I really wanna know."
"Okay ... There goes nothing."
He didn't say anything at first. She looked at him expectantly.
"This isn't easy for me."
"It's okay. Take your time."
He waited. Ellie dove for the ball and managed to lob it back over the net. There were cheers.
"Would you ... Would you join a gym for me?"
"Desmond, I've been going to the gym for years. Three times a week."
"Really?"
"How do you think I got this figure?"
"Oh."
"Come on, tell me. What is it you want?"
"Well ... I'd love it if you were ... more muscular."
"I see. Yeah, why not?"

Alexandra did as he asked. Soon, she had results to show. She was getting stronger and tougher. Where she had been slim and fit, she was now getting muscular. Within a few months, she had moved up to fitness competitor level. She still carefully watched her diet and took great care of herself. Of course, when Desmond was around, she went all natural. He loved it and she had to admit that she also enjoyed the look. Somehow, she was turning into some kind of farm girl. She teased him about wearing daisy dukes, but that didn't turn him on too much.
She still had to be attentive to his desires. It worked better when she just dressed in dungarees and a t-shirt. Slowly, she began to understand. When he laid next to her, touching her muscles and caressing them carefully, admiring their hardness, it dawned to her. It was queer. Not gay, but still confusing.
The thought shocked her.
Once he'd gone to sleep, she stayed awake and thought about all this. She lifted her arms. They were toned and strong now. Different from before. What should she do? Should she go all in? If she helped him fulfill his fantasy, it'd turn her on, but what if she lost herself on the way?
She didn't have an answer right now.
For Desmond, it was the same. He was lying there, pretending to be asleep, while his mind was racing. His wife was now muscled and strong. Stronger than any woman he'd ever met. It turned him on, but it wasn't the muscle. There was something else, lurking at the edge of his consciousness ... He didn't dare admit this and risk alienating her and himself at the same time. After all, there were things better left unsaid, even in his mind.
Was he gay? He was quite certain he wasn't. But still, the girlishness turned him off. He thought of her muscles and her soft, yet natural face. Wow. She was quite the woman. Like a valkyrie. Tall, strong, beautiful, without any weakness of this culture that made people weak and pointless. Was it this?
He didn't dare say it.

After this night, Alexandra relegated her final decision to a later moment. She focused on the now. Muscle was attractive, so muscle she'd have. They had just moved to Shanghai for a few months and the people at the gym were really confused by her look. The local patrons completely lost their focus as she trained her tall, powerful body. The expats were vaguely aware of what she was doing and put it down to culture shock.
It all went on well until they heard some kid on the street ask "Why does that man have long hair?" as they walked by. Alexandra had picked up a few smatterings of Chinese and deduced the meaning. She looked over to Desmond who had studied Mandarin and Cantonese in college. He looked at her and she noticed his erection.
"Seriously?", she asked him.
He blushed.
They barely managed to rent a hotel room closeby before Desmond was about to come. She sat on top of him, riding him hard. His cock was hard as steel. She had never experienced anything like that and neither did he. Every time she brought this up again, he was erect. It was incredible. In the end, despite all her cardio and strength training, he managed to exhaust her.
Once this was finally over, she sat on the bed next to him and smiled. He was still trying to recover from this satori. At last, she said:
"I think we now finally know what turns you on."
"I'm afraid so."
"Why are you afraid?"
"You probably think I'm crazy now."
"Not really. Everyone of us has their dirty little secret. This is yours and who am I to judge."
"Seriously? You're okay with that?"
She nodded.
"What's even more, I'm willing to go along with it. It will be our little project."
He hesitated:
"A project ..."
"Yes. Whenever you think I reach a point to go further, you tell me. And then, I'll go for it."
"Whoa. You would do that for me?"
"No. I'll do that for us. The thought turns me on."
He was hard again.

When they left China for Russia, her look had changed dramatically. She had switched to hardcore bodybuilding and it showed. Her arms were now packed with bulging muscles, her shoulders had expanded and her chest was now wide and hard as steel. Her abs were like cobblestones and her glutes were two boulders. The dieting and the training had cost her both her period and her boobs, which had slowly receded until becoming completely minimal. She was contemplating having what little breast tissue she still had removed, but hesitated.
When she was topless, she could be easily mistaken for a young man with long hair. She had yet to cut her hair, but she could tell that Desmond was tempted. Alexandra easily moved the furniture around as they set up everything. Her strength was more than impressive now. As she showed off, Desmond was having a hard time controlling himself. She grinned as she lifted a big box of books and easily carried it through the apartment.
She set it down and began taking the books out.
"Have you seen the movers look at me?"
"Yeah. They were really having a hard time getting their heads around this."
"It's funny, since their country's basically known for producing female athletes that are so full of hormones you can't tell who they really are ..."
Her voice drifted off as Desmond sighed.
She started to grin. He shook his head in panic:
"No, please. It's nothing."
"Oh, is it?"
She pulled open his fly and extricated his throbbing cock. She gave it a good lick, then engulfed it, swallowing it until her lips touched the base of his shaft. He looked down on her in panic, seeing her broad shoulders flex as she deep-throated him. She released him and looked up at him:
"Now imagine me, juiced up like a beast. Not normal big, but huge. Bigger than a normal man. So masculine that guys switch sidewalks when they see me."
He shot his load all over her face.
"I take that as a yes."

Getting all those weird drugs turned out to be quite simple. Money opened a lot of doors and finding a doctor to manage this wasn't too hard. The effects were impressive. Her normal muscle growth had been fast, this was faster. Her muscles seemed to explode. Even with her tall frame, she was awfully big. She still dressed up for special occasions, but it was getting harder and harder to appear female. After a while, shawls no longer concealed her bull neck and her outrageous shoulders. They tried a fatsuit once, but Alexandra hated it.
Besides, the situation was getting out of hand. Her voice had become deeper, her jaws had grown and there was a lot of hair now. She had her face lasered, actually having a five o'clock shadow annoyed her, but for the rest of her body, it was a much bigger project. In the end, she had Desmond shave her. It was a weird experience, but for him, it was a major turn on. Just returning a little femininity to her made him so horny, he found it hard to concentrate. When he was done, she looked at herself in the mirror and was amazed.
She had a massive v-taper now, her shoulders easily twice as broad as her waist. She flared her lats. They were like a cobra hood now. She did her abs next. Her eight-pack was mind-boggling. She was really shredded now. All those veins, she was like a living map now. She lifted her arm and flexed her massive biceps and triceps. The mass of her limb was shocking. She did a most muscular pose.
"I love that one. Look at me!"
Desmond gasped for air. She gloated:
"Yeah. I'm a beast!"
Her phone beeped. They had to get ready for the evening. It was a big reception, some big contract in the air. Alexandra had Desmond dry the small part of her back she couldn't reach anymore and asked:
"So, we do it?"
Desmond nodded. The idea was completely insane.
A little later, the couple climbed out of their limo, wearing matching tuxedoes. The tailor had been hard-pressed to make hers work. It did its best to conceal her outrageous body. She had tied her hair into a fancy ponytail, but that was the only concession to her femininity. She grinned. It felt so weird going to such an event wearing so much fabric. Also, flats were a good thing. No wonder men liked these receptions more than women.
Their hosts were confused, but managed to accept what was going on once they heard her voice. They put it down to Western arrogance and/or decadence. Also, Alexandra was able to dispel any doubts by just being wonderful and charming.
The evening went extremely well.
As they returned to their apartment, Alexandra practically ripped Desmond's clothes from his body before throwing him on the bed. He climbed on top of her and fucked her like a jackhammer. She was so incredibly turned on she felt she was losing her mind.

The Russian episode had been an eye-opener. They moved again, this time to New England. Desmond had really worked his ass off to make the company succeed and he had finally decided to sell it. After all, it was time to try something new. For Alexandra, that was pretty perfect. She was thinking of settling down a little, maybe have children. All this needed careful preparations, especially given her current situation. In the meantime, they were doing their best to integrate into their new environment.
Alexandra had now cut her hair and further upped her training. She was now a true mountain of muscle. After finishing her training session, her traps threatened to swallow her head. She had developed her chest into a true wall of rock-hard flesh. The fact that she was also ripped as hell made a kind of twin pec-fan appear.
She had a separete room set up for her gym, preferring the privacy of her home to public attention. She also insisted on Desmond hitting the weights. It felt odd for her to be so much bigger than him. For Desmond, the situation was amazing. He'd watch Alexandra take care of the chores with her muscle-covered body, often wearing little to nothing. It was a game, but one that made him really horny.
He had recently discovered another guilty pleasure other than shaving her. All those steroids had given her a massive clit, like a little cock. When he felt like it, he'd give it a lick or suck her off. Recently, she had it pierced, making it even bigger and more sensitive. He had felt obliged to do the same to his cock and he was definitely enjoying it.
Somehow, he was aware that their home was turning into a freakshow, but since they both enjoyed it, there was no harm done.
The neighbors were still more than a little confused. They barely managed to accept that two men, Desmond and Alex, lived in their neighborhood. That the bigger, stronger and more muscular one might actually be a woman was a bit much for them. Alexandra decided not to challenge them on that.
As soon as they were out of the house, the pair would fuck each other's brains out, usually amidst the dirty dishes.

Years later, when the kids had finished college and started their own families, the pair had long settled to a more regular lifestyle. They were sitting on their couch. They were now both in their sixties and there wasn't much of their crazy episode left. The only thing that remained was a slightly larger clit between Alexandra's legs. She sighed. Life was getting way too ordinary. She asked:
"Say, do we still have any duties now?"
He turned to her:
"Did I forget to bring out the trash again?"
"No, that's not what I meant. Do we have any big things to do now?"
"We just have to be nice grandparents when the kids come to visit."
"Doesn't sound like much. We could do what we want, couldn't we?"
She noticed that his cock was hardening. He asked:
"You wouldn't?"
"I totally would. This time for real."

A year later, Desmond was nervous. Alexandra had been away for a month, she was due to return today. He had to admit that this was a good time for him. Over the last year, he had really built his body and was now quite strong and powerful himself. He was more muscular and ripped than he had ever been. Complete with his full beard and shaved head, he was one of these muscle-grandpas people posted on the internet.
Still, he was nothing next to Alexandra.
He heard her key in the lock and got up. She came in, wearing a shirt and jacket that would befit a college professor. A very muscular college professor. She had her hair cut short and there was something different about her jaw again.
She smiled and said:
"It's good to be home."
He embraced her, their muscular bodies colliding like tectonic plates. He kissed her gently. They frenched for a moment, but soon, her hands opened his fly while he fumbled at her shirt's buttons. She pushed him back mockingly and said:
"Let me do this the comic book way."
She grabbed her shirt and ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere. He stared at her hard, muscular chest. The last vestiges of her tits had gone. Instead, he gazed upon the most powerful and most gigantic pecs he had ever seen. She flexed them, making her muscles grow even more.
"Not bad, huh?"
"Incredible."
She pulled off the rest of her clothes and they fucked harder than ever before. Their muscular bodies hammered away at each other like machines. Even though her clit was still smaller than his cock, she was now able to make it come erect and find a place for it.
At last, Alexandra collapsed on top of her husband's back and groaned:
"That was wonderful."
"Yeah. I missed all of this."
"But from now on, that's what we're going to do."
"By the way, I had some outfits made for us. Wanna go on a ball?"

[sicktick]

I'm not sure how you find so much time to write and keep everything such high quality. This was great as is everything else you do.

[El_Roy_1999]

I'm not sure how you find so much time to write and keep everything such high quality. This was great as is everything else you do.

That is one big compliment.

[JerusalemTulip]

I really liked this too.  It is pretty neat how you can make a story span decades and still keep it so tight.  It must take a lot of practice to know which details to keep and which ones can be cut.

[El_Roy_1999]

I really liked this too.  It is pretty neat how you can make a story span decades and still keep it so tight.  It must take a lot of practice to know which details to keep and which ones can be cut.

Thank you. Since I keep insisting on some kind of fake realism, I have to find a way to span the time necessary for the transformation. It turned out that this works best.

[El_Roy_1999]

And number three. This one even has a title. Thank you, Brand.

The Titans
by El_Roy_1999
________________________________

"Should I help you out of that trash can, Paul?"
Rani looked at his flailing legs. The young man was trying to get back on his feet, but he couldn't. He didn't dare say something because he really wanted to keep all that horrible garbage out of his mouth. In the end, she did what she had to and tipped over the entire can. Rani was really plump and horribly out of shape. Actually, she had never been in shape. A steady diet of cheap meals had seriously bloated her. Also, having a very sedentary lifestyle had made her even less able to take care of herself. All she had for her was her long, glossy black hair, which she wore in a long braid. Other than that, she was far from attractive. The cheap make-up and clothes made it worse. Her family just didn't have the money. Also, cultural reasons prevented her from finding a husband. She was probably damned to just take care of her older sister's kids for all her life and die a virgin. What a life.
Paul managed to remove himself from the can. He was reasonably tall, dark and skinny. However, that was about it. While other men could claim to play basketball, he had zero athletic aptitude. The other students bullied him relentlessly. He was so sick of it.
"Sometimes, I just want to stay on the ground. It really doesn't matter."
"I know that feeling." For Rani, the crappiness of her life was obvious. With Paul, she had to say he was right. They both had failed hard enough at school to still be around despite being adults. Barely but yes.
She helped him to his feet. He looked at the fat Indian girl and sighed. He'd never get one of the good-looking chicks. Cheap, ill-fitting clothes combined with awful looks really didn't help. She said:
"We should get you cleaned up. Come with me, I live next door."
He was grateful. Getting home meant a two hour commute. As they walked down the street, people sneered at him. He didn't fit the quarter, he was covered in trash, he smelled. It was horrible. At last, they reached Rani's apartment. Actually, it was Rani's family's home, but during the day, she was on it alone. Her mother and father both worked and her sister was busy with her kids. As a result, she had the entirety of two rooms and a closet for herself.
She put a blanket over the sofa and told him to sit down. She got him a cup of tea and had him take off his clothes. Without his shirt and pants, her looked even more pitiful. She took it with her and put it in the washing machine. He sat there in his underwear and was deeply embarrassed. She said:
"That's going to take a while, especially since I'll have to dry it. You could shower for now."
"That's so nice of you. I hate those jocks."
"Who doesn't?"
He sighed and got into the bath. The hot water rid him of all the smell and the pain. He hated all of this with a passion. Just as he started to relax, the door opened. He tried to cover himself but found that there was nothing other than the shower curtain. Rani shrieked in surprise:
"I just wanted to tell you about the hot water."
"What?"
"It runs out ..."
It ran out.
"Gah. That's cold."
He turned the water off and climbed out. She handed him the towel. He expected her to leave, but she just looked at him. Then, finally, she said:
"You know, we could ..."
He smiled awkwardly.
"I don't think that's a good ..."
Before they managed to stop themselves, they embraced. His skin was really cold, but it felt good. She was pretty certain that this was a receipe for disaster, but what else could she do. For Paul, it was the same. If it felt this good, could it be bad?
They stumbled out of the bath and landed in her bed. It was pretty small, especially for Paul, but they managed. They thought about using her parents' bed, but couldn't bring up the courage.

In the end, losing their virginity like that wasn't half bad. The sex was horrible, of course. But it felt good. The fact that they weren't alone in their pain was comforting enough.
Once they gave up, both having failed to orgasm, but now happily cuddling, Rani's phone went off. She tried to find it, but Paul was closer and handed it to her. As he gave it to her, he saw the picture on the screen. After she managed to lose her aunt, he asked:
"You have the Man of the Future on your phone. How did that happen?"
"Did you expect me to have a Bollywood actor on it?"
"Sorta."
"Yeah. Well, I do like that, but I actually enjoy superhero comics. A lot."
"Wow. Me too!"
"Seriously? I thought I was the only huge nerd around."
"That makes us two. No, seriously, I really like them too. Titan's my favorite."
"Cool!"
He was a little surprised:
"But don't girls usually like female characters?"
She shrugged, causing her flabby body to quiver and shake.
"I don't know. All those tits and asses just remind me of school."
"True."
"I really prefer the muscles." She blushed. He asked:
"What is it?"
"Can I tell you a secret?"
He nodded eagerly.
"Sometimes, I wish I had the muscles. I'd love to be strong and big."
He grinned:
"You're not alone."
There was a pause. An idea was floating through the room and they both hesitated to say it out loud.
The washing machine stopped. Rani got out of the bed and said:
"I gotta be quick. My parents'll come home soon."
Suddenly, Paul made a leap of faith.
"Will you marry me?"
"What? Me? You? Why?"
"Will you? I can't imagine ever meeting a woman like you again. I gotta do what I gotta do."

Three days later, they were married. In secret. Rani didn't even tell her parents. Paul could have, but they didn't seem to care. It was a simple ceremony, conducted by some guy they found on the internet. When it was over, they were relieved, but still aimless. For now, they still had to meet in secret. They managed to time their life together to make it work a little, but it was rather disappointing. They didn't have much choice anyway.
During one of their afternoons at Rani's place, they were reading comics online. Neither had the cash to buy books. Rani had prepared tea and biscuits. They lay on her bed and occasionally caressed each other. It was all very harmonious. She sighed happily:
"I love this, husband."
"Me too. It's wonderful."
"I just wish we could get our own place."
"That would be great. We'd just have to finish school and then get jobs and then ..."
She looked at him and smiled:
"We could get jobs now. Honestly, do you really think finishing school's going to change anything?"
"I thought women were the responsible ones in a relationship."
"Most people do. I think I want my own room now."
"We can at least try to keep up."
In the end, they settled on both finding part-time jobs. As soon as they had enough cash, they'd get their own place and then, maybe, everything would be fine. Other than explaining all of this to Rani's parents. For now, she had a job as a cleaner at a gym. The hours were horrible and the pay was bad, but money was money. Paul got a job at a restaurant. Soon enough, the apartment was in reach. However, Rani chickened out in the last moment. She declared to her parents that she wanted to live on her own. Of course, the mere idea of her moving in with a man was horrifying to them.
After a lot of begging, they let her, but insisted on regular check-ups. Paul hated it, but there wasn't much he could do. He did have to hide in the closet once, though.

One day, out of nowhere, Rani said:
"You know what? We could train at the gym."
"Why is that?"
"To get fit. It would be cheaper that way."
"I guess so. But why?"
"I've been thinking about all this: Our lives are a mess. Maybe we should change them."
"You're weird. How's training going to accomplish that?"
"I don't know, but that's what we've got. Besides, I have been fantasizing about Titan recently. Maybe I should get big muscles."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, why not? It's not as if I have much of a look right now."
Paul decided to change the subject. He liked her big butt and her plump belly. The fact that her breasts were comparatively small annoyed him, but other than that, he didn't mind.
"Well, I could try that too."
"Awesome. I'm going to find a time slot so we don't get disturbed."
"You're not going to pay for a membership?"
"We don't have that kind of money. Also, I consider it an employee benefit."
"We're going to be so screwed."

They did it anyway. Night after night, they snuck into the gym and hit the weights. They got their training advice on the internet and it did take them a while to figure out what worked and what was bullshit. At first, nothing much happened. They were tired and sweaty, but that was it. No progress whatsoever. This only changed when they finally understood the value of nutrition. The next problem was paying for food. They could barely afford their mini-apartment and their regular food, and certainly had no means to finance a bodybuilder's diet, let alone two.
Again, improvisation was the answer. Paul managed to convince his boss to let him have any leftovers he could use. Carefully, the pair sifted through the food to find the necessary protein. None of this was especially simple or nice to do, but they had no choice.
Despite all difficulties, they managed to make some progress. Rani was the first to notice. She watched Paul get dressed for work and said:
"Whoa, husband. What happened to your arms?"
He was a little confused by the sentence until he finally understood. He lifted his arm, made a flex and said:
"Nice, isn't it?"
He did look more muscular than before. Of course, he was still painfully skinny, but now, there was a certain tone. He smiled:
"Awesome. What about you?"
"It'll take forever to see any changes. I'm way too fat."
He didn't know what to say. Eventually, he declared:
"Come on, flex for me."
She did. Paul put his hand on her biceps. It took a while to find the right position. When he squeezed, he noticed that it was pretty hard.
"Cool. It's hidden, but it's there."
She was all happy and had to try it too.
"That's great! You'll see, I'm going to get really buff soon."
"Like Titan."
"Like Titan."

The small success gave them a push forward. They intensified their workouts and eventually ended up at the gym every night. It was a weird experience to train in the absolute silence of the shut-down gym. Only the clanks of the machines gave any indication of life. On the other hand, the pair was pumping hard. Just as they had researched on the internet, they switched their training from bodypart to bodypart and added cardio wherever possible.
Combined with their changed diets, they began to see more changes soon. Within a few months, they had made reasonable progress. Paul was now quite buff. His shoulders had grown, his arms were big and he had the beginnings of a six-pack. Rani's changes were different. She was still massively overweight, but the training had somehow switched her mass around. She had somehow developed a waist taper, or at least the illusion of it by means of broader shoulders. When she flexed her arms, her fat-covered muscles produced plump shapes that suggested a rather large biceps. Her proportionally small breasts were still the same, but her growing pectorals lifted them up a bit and gave them more volume.
Her best part was probably her butt. It was humongous, each cheek the size of her head. When she flexed her glutes, they collided and mashed into one another. Paul couldn't keep his eyes of her.
Over time, their sex-life had improved tremendously. They found out they liked to pump up a little before fucking, getting their muscles warmed up before screwing each other's minds out. Rani had somehow decided to go against everything she had been taught as a virtuous woman. Instead, she devoured websites devoted to sexual practices and led Paul into the depths of tantric sex, all the while declaring that this was something about her culture. He didn't mind.
Sadly, there was a first problem when her parents walked in on them. Paul was just lying next to her, his long cock in her snatch and fucking her gently from behind. Her mother looked at her daughter, her father stared at the whole situation. He caught his collapsing wife and gently lowered her to the ground.
Then, the haranguing started.
"Behind our backs ... without marriage ... alone ... with a black man ... disgrace ... prostitute ... lustful ... lack of shame ..."
Eventually, Rani got up and got her marriage certificate from her cupboard as her mother went on and on. She gave it to them. Her mother went pale. She almost fainted again. Her father was still stone-faced. He didn't know what to say or do. Eventually, he said:
"You are no longer a daughter of mine. I won't see you again."
He took his wife with him and left. As the door closed silently, Rani started to cry.

At the gym, she pushed herself with an unknown intensity. She just wanted to be rid of the shame. She wanted to pump all those thoughts out of her mind. Paul was crestfallen.
It took her two weeks to recover. She hardly ate and spoke only little. Then, at last, she had decided that she couldn't change this. Instead, she'd have to roll with the punches. She went on a walk with Paul and said:
"I've thought a lot about this. I don't want it anymore."
"What, our marriage? But I love you!"
"No. I love you too. I love you with all my heart. No. I don't want to be weak anymore. I don't want to be a daughter anymore. I don't want to live my mother's way of being a woman anymore."
"Okay ... So what does it mean?"
"I'm going to build a body like Titan's. Seriously. Before, it was a joke, but now, that's over. I'm going to be huge and muscular. I'm going to be so strong I can crush anything in my way. I'm going to be the least feminine woman ever."
He was confused. Up until now, he had assumed that his taste in women was pretty much like everybody else's. But now, he felt his cock harden. The thought somehow turned him on. He didn't know why. At first, he felt ashame. But then, suddenly, he decided to take a leap of faith.
He embraced her and said:
"Let's do this. I love you!"
From that day on, they continually increased their workouts. They started building their bodies for real, carefully monitoring their training, their food and their measurements. They really pushed each other, watching over one another to make sure they stuck to their plan.
Within a few months, the effects were there. They had dropped out of school, but their bodies had definitely matured. Paul was now a tall, rather broad-shouldered man with powerful arms and strong legs. He could probably easily win most local bodybuilding competitions, but decided not to compete. He was just too shy for this. His dark skin really brought out the intensity of his muscles. He was quite happy about the look and had begun to dress the part, wearing muscle shirts and tanktops.
Rani had also progressed nicely. Her diet had made her lose a lot of fat and her training had made her quite buff. Since she wasn't shy of any weights and trained for mass, she was more muscular than normal for women, even fitness competitors. Still, she was annoyed:
"It's unfair. With your natural testosterone, I can never catch up to you."
"I'm sorry, darling, but that's just the way it is."
"Back when we started, I decided I would no longer accept things the way they were."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to get me some testosterone."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course. There's a guy at the gym who sells the stuff."
"But where are you going to get that kind of money? I'm just glad my boss lets us have all that food. I don't know where we could save."
"Hm. Maybe I should get a second job."

They ended up both getting second jobs. Paul found a place as a bouncer and Rani started to work as a salesperson at a supplement store next to the gym. The owner was surprised when he saw her in a more sales-compatible outfit. He immediately understood that she was training at his gym at night and decided to get both her and her husband free memberships. Rani was elated. This was their first actual break. They still weren't making a lot of money and they sadly realized that the day only had 24 hours to fill with work, sleep, training and spending a little time together, but soon, they were able to buy the first cycle for Rani.
Getting that stuff was like Christmas. Injecting her tight, muscular butt with that stuff was almost erotic for Paul. For Rani, it was incredible. She'd grow. Seriously.
Indeed, that was the push she needed. Soon, she began to grow and she loved it. Within a few weeks, her muscle mass increased by several pounds and she was starting to get big. By the time the cycle was over, her body was fit for a physique competition, maybe even more. Light bodybuilding maybe? Still, she wanted more. More of everything. When they came home to their cramped, miserable one-room apartment, they immediately undressed and started fucking like animals. Gone were the experiments and the demure passion. Now, it was pure lust for muscles and for hard sex.
Soon, Rani decided she wanted another cycle. At first, Paul was against it, but then she insisted he had one too. Somehow, that did the trick. They'd inject the stuff into each other's buff asses, then pump up like crazy. For Paul, this was a bizarre dream come true. Within a few months, his mass increased further. When the patrons at the bar saw him approach, they'd back down. His mere appearance was enough to make it clear that he'd prefer not to have any troublemakers. His shoulders expanded further and he was now looking like a pro football player. The stuff really transformed him.
With Rani, the effect was even bigger. She was actually quite tall for a woman, but had always slouched to make herself appear less conspicuous. That was over now. She walked tall and she was impressive. Her frame had broadened and she was now reaching almost heroic proportions. Her biceps were well over fist sized, her butt was a mass of striated muscle and she even now sported a six-pack. Muscles were her life now and she was incredible. She now had to dress down in public if she wanted not to be annoyed either by gawkers staring at her, haters shouting insults or old people praying for her salvation. Usually, she'd put on something reasonably demure and carry on with her life. When she was walking down the street with Paul, it was something else indeed. People switched sides and marveled at their enormous bodies. Happily, they didn't run into any people from her family.
She wasn't sure they'd recognize her: Not only had her body and her demeanor changed, it was also her face. Her jaw had grown larger, she had light acne again and overall, she looked harder and rather more masculine. The effect was still subtle, but it was there. Her voice had dropped a little too, adding to the confusion.

By the time they were on her fifth, his fourth cycle, they were beginning to look bizarre. Up until now, Rani and Paul had been muscular, very fit people with big bodies. Now, the stuff was turning them into freaks. Combined with other stuff they were shooting, their ever more extreme workouts began to screw them up. Paul had turned into a monster. He was now a heavyweight bodybuilder, with legs the size of treetrunks and arms like other people's waists. His chest was wide and large enough to make narrow doors unnavigable. However he tried it, he just didn't fit anymore. His neck was monstrously large, his head looking a little lost on his colossal body. They both loved it.
When he was on top of her, fucking her equally massive body, she was screaming for more, her voice having turned even deeper, just like his. Rani was still a woman, but people could get confused. Her breasts had given up and decided to hide as little lumps on top of her muscular chest. Her face had grown harder still. Where she had dyed her facial hair under her nose before, she was now forced to shave. It wasn't much, but it annoyed her. Also, her hairline had receded a little, giving her a bigger forehead. She wasn't sure she liked that.
On the other hand, she adored her muscles. She was not yet at Titan's level and Paul was still way bigger than her, but she was still massive. When she flexed after a good workout, she was amazed by the swollen size of her muscles. She would spend a lot of time admiring her work and carefully examining it for flaws and imperfections to be ironed out.
That was the time when their respective bosses decided to get rid of them. They were now scaring off clients and their passion was probably getting dangerous for everyone around, including themselves. When Paul got into a roid-rage filled argument with some asshole, he ended up getting arrested.
He was quickly sentenced to a year in jail, but when Rani visited him a few weeks later, she noticed he was doing fine. Strangely enough, he was even more muscular. People were very accommodating to him. After all, he was so massive that whatever gang recruited him was sure to gain more support. That's when an utterly bizarre plan began to ripen in their twisted minds.
Using another state's recent liberal policy, Rani had her gender changed to male. It wasn't hard to convince the clerk to do that. She had shaved off her hair and sold it for some extra cash and to look the part, and even if she did feel a pang of regret, her lust for muscle was much bigger. Honestly, the clerk assumed an administrative error in the first place.
The next step in their craziness was getting sent to jail. It turned out that that was really easy: She paid one of Paul's former tormentors a visit.
Soon, she found herself at the same correctional facility as her husband. Just like him, she was an excellent recruit for the gangs and managed to get herself assigned as a trainee to Paul, happily sharing a cell.

And that was the moment everything clicked into place. It turned out that being huge bruisers with a tendency to fall into violent rages wasn't the worst ability to have. Instead of trying to get out again, they set up their home behind bars. Somehow, they didn't miss much.
They were easily able to procure all the drugs and protein they needed to continue their quest for mass and power. Also, bullying their inmates to help them wash their gigantic bodies and dress themselves was easy. Actually having servants wasn't too bad.
Soon, Paul was an ogre-like beast with an enormous roid-gut and arms the size of other people's chest. He was huge and ripped, his distorted face with its massive jaw making people shit their pants as he approached. When he got violent, the effect was horribly impressive and further increased his prestige and his sentence. At the same time, he was careful enough never to overdo it. It was all a matter of maintaining a certain balance.
Rani had eventually caught up to him. With her shaved head, her soccerball-sized shoulders and her gigantic chest, she was just as mind-bogglingly hyper-masculine as he was. Her pecs rested on her bloated gut and her legs were so huge she had to wear some special pants to walk comfortably. Just like her husband, the occasional bout of violence ensured her ongoing satisfaction.
And satisfaction they had.
Paul pushed her to the ground, trying to master her enormously powerful body. She resisted playfully, almost smashing him into the wall in the process. She bellowed:
"Fuck me! Please, fuck me!"
He grabbed her around the waist like a wrestler, his large hands digging into her pronounced eight-pack. His chest rubbed against the hair on her back. He held her down for a moment, forcing her gargantuan legs apart as he readied his long, hard cock. She bucked again, laughing deeply. He grunted as he finally managed to shove his dick into her snatch. She immediately squeezed it with her massively powerful internal muscles. He groaned as he tried to ram it down.
"Come on! What are you doing? Push it in!"
"You're not letting me."
"Well, maybe you're a wimp! Fuck me harder!"
He managed to pound her and she immediately turned even more aggressive.
She grunted:
"Fuck me, you stallion! I want your big cock in me!"
She was now on all fours, but lifted a powerful hand to her oversized clit and begun stroking and tugging at it as he rode her hard.
People outside tried to stay quiet. They knew that disturbing these beasts meant retaliation later on. Nobody wanted that.
After Paul shot his load, she came with a howl. Rani rolled on her back, a complex procedure that showcased her monumental body. She looked at him, her face as unfeminine as one could imagine. The steroid abuse had made her jaw larger than most men's. Somehow, her features were strangely distorted by the growth of her skull. She pulled him to her, their roid-guts colliding. He lay on top of her. Somehow, he recognized the softness and sweetness that had once led him in her arms. It was still there, well-hidden under a body made of steel and a demeanor that was all terror and pain. They kissed softly, first just a peck, then a long, sweet kiss like teenagers'. He smiled and said:
"I love you."
"Me too."
She grabbed their needles from the bed and said:
"Let's get shot up. I want to get bigger!"

[El_Roy_1999]

So I wrote a short story that's a little unusual, maybe. I hope you like it. As always, I'm glad for any feedback. Have fun.

Eulogy
by El_Roy_1999
____________________________

"I am sadly aware that few of those who are here to mourn Cheryl are family. They broke contact with my wife years ago when her addiction became obvious and it was clear she wouldn't recover. However, I am glad that some of her personal friends and companions have come. She would have been grateful for you to do this. I am not used to public speaking and I hope I'll be able to do this correctly and with dignity."
Jeremy adjusted the knot of his tie. He was wearing a rather well-fitting tuxedo and the whole ambiance suggested that he still was quite wealthy, despite all the money he had been forced to pour into his wife's ... condition. The coffin was there in the back of the funeral home and she lay there, completely calm and serene, as if sleeping. The morticians had clearly worked hard to achieve this look, despite the difficult condition the body had been in. The custom-made coffin was just one thing, getting a bespoke dress was another problem and finally, working with this much skin was equally hard. Finally, her proportions had become so obscene that the professionals had to rethink a lot of their standard procedures to make this work.
The widower continued:
"It is still hard for me to speak of this and I still hope that this is all just a bad dream, but you know how it is, there's a moment when you have to face the facts." His voice trailed off. "Anyway. I think that Cheryl wouldn't have wanted this to be too gloomy, after all, she loved life and she was a very physical person."
Suddenly, he threw away the notes he had prepared.
"You know what, let's just drop this. Cheryl was both a spontaneous and a very dedicated person. She would decide on something at the drop of the hat and then follow it through until she had reached its end. So, let's honor her in the same way. I'm going to tell this story from the beginning to the end."
He paused, took a sip of water and said:
"I met Cheryl some twenty years ago at a fitness competition. Back in the day, she was a rather slim, very fit woman. She had discovered the sport rather late and was now catching up. She didn't win the show, of course, but I liked her spirit and since I was a fan of female muscle even then, I invited her for dinner. Without much deliberation, she said yes and we ended up at a rather less fancy, but very healthy restaurant. I remember her back in the day: She was still rather pale, with long golden tresses and her cute button nose. She also had her breasts done a few months before the competition and she wore a low-cut dress that really left little to imagination ... Now you're going to say: Hold on, Jerry, that's your dead wife you're talking about! And I'm going to say: Of course. I'm remembering her the way she was and she was sexy. That was something she never really gave up."
He grinned and cleared his throat.
"Our date went well. I guess this had something to do with me being a big heir, but I still don't know whether she knew that back then. We dated some more and soon, we got married. She had a lot of free time available then, neither of us wanted any kids, so she could just pursue her training. And, boy, did she! Within the first year, she got really fit."
He pointed at one of the portraits by the coffin. Cheryl was standing there in a sparkling posing suit, tanned and beautiful, her abs ripped and her breasts big and round. She had a big, ecstatic grin and flexed her arms, showing off her fist-sized biceps. Her blond hair was curled and looked very Hollywood.
"She won that competition, and the next few too. We ended up having to decide. She could stay in fitness and keep her level or move up to a heavier weight class and risk alienating her fans. You knew how she thought. Up she went!"
Jeremy grinned:
"I was amazed. She started working out really hard back then. She'd be at the gym every day, stick to her nutrition and spend a lot of money on her looks. I loved it. Cheryl was the perfect California blonde back then, and she was getting better and better. One year later, she competed in lightweight bodybuilding and won. Of course."
He showed the next picture. Cheryl had transformed. She was wearing an even skimpier suit, which allowed the spectators to see almost every bit of her body. Her abs were now deeply carved into her flesh, her navel a round bulge amidst the chasms of her stomach. Two even larger spherical tits hung from her built pecs. Her back spread into a slim "V", leading to nicely rounded shoulders and a strong, well-built neck. Her face looked even better, with perfect make-up and full lips, however, the button-ness of her nose had disappeared. On the picture she locked her arms behind her head and presented her ripped thighs and rock-hard calves. Her legs were long and elegant and the powerful stagelights really explored every line and fiber of her quads.
"This year was amazing. Other competitors managed one, maybe two shows. Cheryl was in contest condition the whole time. She brought home trophy after trophy, and we'd totally have celebrated if she would have allowed herself any such pleasure. Drinking champagne and eating fancy food was no longer interesting for her. She wanted to win and she wanted to be big. I guess I should have noticed it then, but I was caught by her muscles and her dedication. Also, the sex was amazing."
He blushed.
"She got her pro card that year and that really kick-started her career. Of course, she immediately set her eyes on the heavyweight class. Anything else would have felt like a defeat to her. She took two years off the circuit and, man, did she build her body. When she returned, she was an immediate contender for the title. She had put on over a hundred pounds of dry muscle in that time. She was basically doing four things everyday: Eat, train, get massages and sleep. Other than that, nothing. She just had to. Once again, I should have seen this coming. I had no idea."
The third picture was from her first competition after her comeback. Cheryl stood there in a seriously tiny suit and her body was eye-wateringly hard and ripped. Her conditioning was so absurd that even now people wondered how she had even managed to stand. Her waist was now a perfect sculpture of idealized abs. You could actually distinguish every single fiber and vein under her skin. Every block of muscle was trained to its physiological maximum. Her waist blew up into a massive taper. Her lats spread like wings of flesh, framing a pair of feathered pecs and a pair of absolutely fake tits that seemed like some sad concession to her gender. Her arms, all nineteen inches of them, hung from bowling ball-sized shoulders whose striations formed a kind of grasping fist of muscle. Cheryl was a beast and the other competitor on the picture seemed absolutely shocked by her look. Despite her make-up artists best attempts, she had lost her cuteness and even her movie star-like looks. Cheryl's face showed determination and power. Femininity, maybe. But mostly unbeatable strength.
Her legs seemed somewhat less relevant, but this was clearly wrong. Instead, they were thick columns of ripped flesh, her calves large enough to be easily visible from the front. If she hadn't been this dry, she could have pulverized anything between these tree trunks.
"Some of you probably remember the day. The judges said no. They said she wasn't feminine enough. You know she had it all: symmetry, shape, muscularity, everything. Her tan was perfect, her make-up was spot on, the suit was ideal for her body type. No. She wasn't good enough for their skewed standards of beauty. Because that was the problem. The judges thought this was a beauty contest. It wasn't it was a bodybuilding contest. As a male competitor, you could be an ugly runt, as long as you had big muscles, no one cared. Cheryl was outraged. Two years of non-stop training for nothing. Now, most people would have called it a day back then. Most people, but not my wife. Once again, I should have said something. I didn't. I was fascinated by her new idea. If she wasn't feminine enough for the women's division, she'd compete in the male one."
Jeremy sighed. He adjusted his glasses.
"She went crazy back then. I think that was the last straw. I didn't know how to react. I was mesmerized by the muscle, by the passion, by lust, by love, I don't know. It took her three long years. I blew a lot of money on this, but it was definitely worth it. She was happy ... She loved to watch her body expand after the hard training. She enjoyed the developing strength, the muscles, the power, everything."
Picture number four was confusing. The person on the picture was undoubtedly Cheryl, but she had completely transformed. Somewhere along the line, the implants had been removed and replaced by a massive set of gigantic pecs. Her shoulders tapered down to a tiny, ripped waist. She was just doing a front lat spread and they were like wings of steel flesh. Her shoulders were wide enough to block her from walking through normal doors and the metal circle of pecs, shoulders and traps framed her drawn, dry face. Her biceps were huge and thick, with large, finger-thick veins snaking over them. From her tiny posing speedo, thick snakes of muscle emerged, coiling around her heavily loaded legs. She was massive all over.
To get to this size, she had been shooting massive amounts of steroids and growth hormone, but she had somehow managed to keep her strange femininity. The effect was disconcerting.
"Despite the judges' best efforts, she won. Imagine: A woman winning the heavyweight bodybuilding title for men! She was all over the media after this. Nobody cares about bodybuilding normally, but this was just what the doctor ordered. Of course, this couldn't last. The association decided it was high time to start testing for drugs and, guess what, she was stripped of her title. The other competitors were disqualified too, but the next year, no one cared about that. You can imagine how angry she was. She practically redecorated our home with a sledgehammer. Again, I hoped this was it. She'd made her point. Winning this was incredible, but realizing that the world wasn't ready for it was also a great strain on our relationship. We all remember her. She wasn't one to give up easily."
Jeremy shook his head:
"That's when it got really expensive. I couldn't deny her anything, you know it. I call that my Citizen Kane moment. If the association wasn't going to let her participate and win, she'd want her own competition. It took months of negociation to set this up. A no holds barred, free-for-all bodybuilding championship with prizes appropriate to the sport. A six-digit main prize. And not a low one. A representative venue in a glamorous city. Some professional speakers to hand over the trophies. A half-time show with an appropriately impressive performer. A few star guests. It was to be her finest hour. In some way, it was. I spent a fortune on the show. She took five years to fine-tune her body. Imagine that: five years of absolute dedication. Almost no cheat days, an extreme regime of hard training and total focus on growing her muscles. As the competition approached, people started getting curious. More and more heavyweights, all of them male, decided to join. The money was looking good, the prospect of not getting subjected to idiot comments or randomized testing made it even better. We were seeing sizes previously unheard of. Over the last few months, Cheryl insisted I should not see her. She wanted to really blow me away. We had a lot of sex in pitch black, I had a vague idea how gigantic she was getting, but nothing prepared me for this."
The fifth picture showed something people might see as a vague caricature of a human being. There was a certain Cheryl-ness to its face, but this was eclipsed by a body so outrageous that most people found it hard to be real. Whatever it was Cheryl had done to herself, it had been absolute and thorough. Her chest had become a wall of concrete flesh. Her tan was the color of dark cherry wood. Her pecs were each bigger than her head, with tiny nipples squashed by thick slabs of heavy muscle. Every segment and fiber was painstakingly defined, trained to extreme size and dried to desert levels. Her frame had turned from a "v"-shape to a full omega. Her waist was still small, but her lats were so gigantic now they actually seemed to hang down from her colossal shoulders. Just to spite the association, she wore a tiny string bikini that barely covered anything. It looked like two rubber bands on a bowling ball. On the picture, she was doing a double biceps pose and it was obvious that there was no room left for all these muscles to go. Her arms were so overstuffed with muscle that they rested on her lats even now, leaving no space in-between. The pose itself was strangely interrupted by the fact that she couldn't squeeze her forearms into her biceps much more. The full flex was there, but it made the observers wonder just how big these muscles would have gotten if she'd been able to pull it through.
Her lower body was just as insane. Whatever fantastic exercises she had performed to build them, her legs were now powerful enough to challenge any professional athlete. They were also too big to bring together in a normal fashion. Thick blood vessels snaked along the inside of her watermelon-sized thighs (that's at least two melons per thigh). Her legs were as wide as a normal-sized door now anyway. Her hamstrings collided with her butt whenever she moved, making big steps functionally impossible. With calves the size of pumpkins, the look was completed in the most confusing way. Nobody looking at this picture would be able to tell how she could even live like this.
And yet, Cheryl was clearly elated. Her expression was almost beatified. A small army of beauticians had fought bravely to give her feminine, even seductive looks. Her face looked a little out of place on a body so enormous. Her long blond hair was practically lying on her bulging traps that stretched her skin to her ears.
"You may remember how it ended. She won hands down. The judges really tried to do this correctly. She was my wife, of course, but only a few of the male competitors came even close. She was just too gigantic. The biggest guys even agreed that she deserved the win. The whole thing was just Cheryl's way to tell the association that she was way beyond their level or anything they ever expected. The fact that she donated her prize money to supporting young bodybuilders was just the final up yours."
Jeremy nodded slowly:
"She showed them. I was under the foolish impression that she would relax then. After all, there was no competitor in sight, even if they had ten years to prepare. We weren't getting any younger and she had spent over a decade pushing herself to reach this. As often in my life, I was wrong. We all know what happened next."
There were nods of agreement from the audience. A word went around.
The widower explained:
"The rack. Yes. God. I was so lost in all this, so amazed by her muscles and her dedication, I didn't even think this could go wrong. As you could see, her muscles were starting to constrict her movements. She couldn't use the full range of motion anymore. She wouldn't reduce, so she found some engineers and had them build it. You've probably seen it, most of you in action. The first version was still pretty primitive, a system of electrical stimulators, cables and weights that allowed full exercise even at her level of bulk. She'd spend hours on the thing, training her muscles more and more. Only then did I really notice that things had gone wrong. I should have had years ago, but I was blinded. I tried to fix this. I got her the best therapists I could afford and had them work with her to get out of this addiction."
Now, slowly, Jeremy was choking back his tears.
"I tried. Seriously. I talked to her. I tried to get her to understand that she was going too far. She didn't listen. She did, but she didn't believe me. She'd say: 'I understand what you're saying, but you're not sincere. When you see me train, when you see me getting bigger, you crave for me and my muscles. You understand what I am doing, and you love it too. Stop worrying. I do what I do and that should be enough.' I keep telling me that this is what she wanted."
He dried his eyes.
"It went on for years. You all remember. She grew and grew, getting stronger and stronger. Every version of the rack got more refined, more punishing and more efficient. She'd get on it for hours and hours, the machine fueling her growth with endless streams of protein and supplements. Her muscles would be stimulated again and again with ever stronger electrical current, she was able to bench a truck. I know that, we had a special system constructed to allow her to do this."
There was a picture showing her under the truck. It was confusing. No human being should have muscles like that. Her chest was thicker than a tire, her abs were chunks of meat the size of coconuts. Cheryl's shoulders were so gigantic that each of them surpassed a beach ball. Her head was resting on thick, bloated pillows of muscle, created from her incredibly huge traps. To lift the truck, she carefully moved her arms upwards, making it almost impossible to find a comfortable position. She locked had her legs in a special apparatus that managed to hold her grotesque thighs and calves. The truck was suspended above her on a set of chains, but these were only safeties. It was clear that there was no pull on them right now. The whole vehicle was resting on a platform and she was actually holding this up with her gargantuan muscles.
"After that, it all went really quick. She no longer left the rack. She just stayed in it every day and night, the machine constantly feeding and pumping her, blowing up her muscles until she surpassed eight hundred pounds of ripped meat. And it went on and on. We'd make love, a complex procedure, but incredible. After all, every part of her body was now strong enough to crush me into pulp. She'd get me off with a flex of her abs alone, or by just gently squeezing me between her biceps and her lats ..." He sighed. "I have to admit, it was insane, but it felt right. You all knew her: Cheryl could be sweet and funny most of the time. And even when she was in a bad mood, she'd focus and find something to make her happy. It was hard for us, but those were good times."
He paused.
The final picture showed an artistic portrait of Cheryl's body, a surreal landscape of veins, fibers and bulges. She was no longer human in any way. She was just muscle on top of muscle, completely ridiculous and beyond any human imagination. The audience was vaguely aware of her face lost somewhere amidst the mass of muscular flesh. Her expression was one of serenity, but also ... ecstasy.
"There's only so much stress a body can survive. We knew it. She was absolutely aware that there was a limit and should she break it ... Well, she did. And she accepted the consequences. Because that was her passion. And we can honor her for not going back on her word, for being fun and bright and driven by her passion. She loved us all and we loved her back. I think, this is more than most people can hope for. So, thank you for being with me today and to Cheryl: You were the best and you'll always be the best!"

As they walked from the grave, the giant coffin long disappeared in the soil, a young woman followed Jeremy. She said:
"Mister Gutman, do you have a moment?"
He turned around and came face to face with a raven-haired woman in a rather less modest little black dress. She was really fit, with long, well-muscled limbs and a pair of rather big breasts that filled the cleavage of her outfit.
"Yes?"
"I'm Mireille, a big fan of your wife and her work. She's been my idol all my life."
"She'd have been happy to hear that."
"Thank you. I just have a question ..."
Jeremy was getting interested.
"Go ahead."
"I'd really love to see the rack. I've heard so much of it. It's a bit of a legend."
"It is? It probably is. Yes, why not. It's not going anywhere."
The woman practically jumped up:
"Awesome! I'll bring my workout gear!"
Jeremy frowned:
"It's not meant to ..."
She suddenly moved really close to him and pushed her muscles against his body.
"It's been my dream for a long time." Her hand went to his crotch. "Please ..."
He tried to extricate himself, but couldn't really bring himself to leave.
She licked his ear and said:
"I want to be even bigger ..."

[jcboyd]

Over the top.  Outrageous.

Brilliant.

 

[Jaguar]

Over the top, yeah, and really neat ending !   

[El_Roy_1999]

Thank you both!