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Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  Author: [poddy] Natalie and the PumpSuit | #FMG
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Author Topic: Author: [poddy] Natalie and the PumpSuit | #FMG  (Read 86274 times)

Offline Poddy

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Author: [poddy] Natalie and the PumpSuit | #FMG
« on: October 01, 2013, 03:19:33 pm »
***This is the first story I'd like to post on here. The concept itself has been sitting in my head for the best part of a year, but I've never found the impetus to put it onto virtual paper. As with a few others on here, I prefer a more realistic take on my muscle growth stories - believability has always drawn me closer to a story, even in something as fantastical as womens' muscles bulging out of their clothes in a heartbeat.

Anyway, first chapter is something of a set-up and introduction, with a hint of things to come. I hope you enjoy it!

Natalie and the PumpSuit
by poddy

Natalie was so giddy her signature on the delivery man’s clipboard was nothing short of an indecipherable scribble. With one hand already around the heavily taped and fairly large cardboard box, and the other shakily handing back the pen, the man was gone and she was rummaging for the kitchen scissors before the front door had swung shut. The box was surprisingly heavy, she thought, as her forearm gently trembled under the weight. 

She soon had it sliced open, but inside, the contents were sparing. There were three blue, yellow and white plastic tubs of varying size, some plastic wrapped garments that resembled lycra tops, and some text-filled sheets of stapled A4 titled ‘Congratulations!’ on top. Natalie scrunched her button nose and cocked an eyebrow. A ‘sponsorship deal’ had had a lot more grandeur in her imagination.

Speaking of which she thought, she grabbed her phone from the table, deftly selected the camera, raised an outstretched arm, straightened her golden, choppy bob haircut and poised her thumb.

Social media had been the biggest cog in the machine so far. As well as the first spark in her decision to try and be one those women whose bodies she’d enviously ogled for so long. She’d been following every one of her idols across every online platform she could think of for the past 10 months. It had been a source of inspiration and frustration since she decided to become a figure competitor on her 19th birthday.

She naturally snapped some quick ‘selfies’ - making sure the opened box was in full view and more importantly, she knew, her crystal blue eyes, curved pink lips and just a glimpse of her pert, plump breasts. Her thumbs flew all over the screen: ‘Box o’ goodies fresh from my first ever sponsors @Pumplabs! New supps and workout gear, thank you so much! Im coming for you chest n bis! Xx.’ She posted and checked her Inst@gram profile; she was up to 345 followers now. It made her smile; it was three more than yesterday, and it was progress, however small.

Natalie was also happy because she had the house all to herself. Her older sister took the morning shifts at the family store on Mondays, giving her time to get a solid meal and hit the gym. Her mom never seemed to stop working since dad left either. Everyone pulled their weight, and the family was close – when they were together. Dinner was now an inconvenience rather than a family occasion. It didn’t bother Natalie, it meant she could control her own meals and make sure she was packing in enough protein as well as keep an eye on her carbs in every meal to keep her muscles lean, her body fat low and her weight steady.

Progress all-round had been slow but steady. At just 98lbs 10 months ago, she was up a solid 109lbs now. Squats, curls, presses and countless reps had rounded her shoulders, tightened her stomach, filled her arms, ripened her backside and toned her legs. She was burdened by barely an ounce of fat. She cut a sleek and feminine figure.

Of course there was room for improvement, she told herself, but competing and stepping on stage couldn’t be more than 6 months away, by her estimates.

She was happy with herself, on good days. On bad days, the seconds turned to minutes staring the mirror – scrutinising. Each muscle, each little bump and each flat spot. Her posterity kept her going, as did the lingering image of forever being the skinny little girl in the family – whether she admitted it or not, it was a fear of weakness that drove her. Stepping on stage, slim, lean, and with a body the model of feminine efficacy would change that, she told herself. Her older sister Marie, was always the son her father never had. Worse still, when he was hoping for another ‘son’, he got Natalie - cute, slim, pretty, blonde Natalie.

Taking the box to her bedroom, she eagerly unloaded the rest of the box. Three tubs of powders in ascending size as well as two plastic-wrapped undergarments. “Thermals maybe? Cool, that’s kinda helpful I guess.” she thought aloud. The more she could wear at the gym to please her new benefactors, the better.

She ripped open the bag and unfurled the garment. It unrolled in her arms. It was long, it was longer than a shirt, it was closer to a long sleeved one-piece, only it stopped just under the crotch, the lower half covering only a few inches of upper thigh.

It was a pleasing sky-blue, with an asymmetrical white stripe streaking from the right shoulder down to the thigh. A ‘PL’ logo was embossed within the stripe, just above the right breast. Natalie liked it. It looked positively tiny without a body inside it - it was sexy, stretchy and skin-tight.
As much as she embraced her shameless selfies, she knew which kind of pictures were the most popular, and exactly why. She chalked it up to not so necessary evil. Necessary? Unfortunately. Evil? Certainly not.

A brief glimpse inside the suit caught Natalie’s attention. The stitching inside had some strange patterns. Patches of a few inches in width and height lay spaced out – they resembled bandages in various shapes. Looking more closely, she spied two long, thick strips on each thigh, another two blocks occupying each glute, likewise the upper pectorals. Six small pads lined the abdominals, and thin strips stretched along the bicep and triceps too. The back featured the most elaborate display however, thick strips along the traps, two more on the rhomboids and two more stretching down the lateral muscles.

'Padding, maybe?' She thought 'something to fill me out? God, they don’t think I’m too skinny do they?! Do they want me to become a physique model? What’s next? Am I gonna get anavar in the mail tomorrow?!They didn’t mention anything like this…'

She wrestled her runaway thoughts back under control and instead turned her attention to the tubs lying on her bed.
They were neatly marked one to three, with a yellow warning tape design pattern around the rim of the lid. A deft twist and tub #1 was open: Pre-Pump. She foraged for the invariably buried scoop and flicked the golden dust off her fingertips. She sucked one dusted finger for a few seconds – flavourless.

Natalie mixed and gulped down the shake with ease. The powder was still lumpy. 'I guess they can iron that out' she thought 'but some strawberry flavouring would’ve been nice!' She wiped her mouth and set the dirty shaker on her nightstand. Her mind was already on that one-piece.

She stripped down to nothing, tossing her dressing gown, bra and panties onto the bed. God, it really is small she thought, before giving another curious glance to the smattering of patches stitched inside.  Caressing the weightless fabric, she threaded her smooth legs through each hole and gently pulled it up.

The suit wrapped around her like a second skin. It contorted to her curves and gripped her tight waist as she pulled it over her midriff and then gently over her plump, pale breasts. The fabric was cold; her hardened nipples crept up and pressed into the fabric. Next she slid her arms through the sleeves, it was a perfect fit, barely a wrinkle in sight. Though it was tight around the crotch, she was in the suit’s firm grip.

She spun in the mirror, admiring her newly compressed figure. Her waistline already looked tighter, and standing with her legs apart revealed such an inviting gap between her thighs she simply had to stare. ‘PumpLabs’ was written in large white letters across her backside, she giggled as she tickled one of her hardened nipples and reached for her phone for some timely self-promotion.

Suddenly, deep, soothing warmth enveloped her. It was as though the suit had come alive. She felt the warmth trickling from the same places as the patches sewn inside. It felt like a dozen pairs of soft, glowing hands stroking her all over. There was a hard pinch on both her thighs, immediately followed by a rush of massaging warmth. Next came her glutes, they both received a strong but caring squeeze from both of the patches, followed by another hot wave.  Her flat stomach received six individual pinches, before another two just above her breasts sunk into her shallow pectorals. Her sinews of her biceps, triceps and back were all treated together in the final crescendo, and the arresting, tightening sensation that followed squeezed a heavy, sensual sigh from Natalie’s pursed lips.

“God...” She whispered as she blinked herself back into the room. It was a rush, an unexpected, inexplicable, unforgettable rush. Gentle yet overwhelming, and over far too quickly Natalie thought - her pulse gently pumping in her neck.

The suit felt tighter, yet in the mirror her body cut the same slim, lean, curved outline as before. It wasn’t just over her skin; it felt like it was her skin, weightless and warm. From neck to her upper thighs, her pulsing body welcomed the PumpSuit’s empowering embrace.
Natalie stood wide eyed in the mirror, breathless and embarrassed that she was blushing in an empty house. She dropped her phone and reached for the crumpled pages of A4 that she had ignored earlier.

***Hope you enjoyed reading. K+ if you liked it! Next chapter (at the gym) should be up fairly soon.

Forum Saradas


Offline Online1138

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #1 on: October 03, 2013, 07:13:12 am »
Wow, really great start! Definite K+ given!  :wow:

solitariodude

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #2 on: October 03, 2013, 01:36:04 pm »
Great start to an interesting story. K and hope to see more :thanks:

Offline Poddy

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #3 on: October 04, 2013, 04:21:02 pm »
**Here's Chapter 2. A big thank you to FBBJunkie, Online1138 and Solitariodude for the reviews!

A taste of things to come.

Shaking in the afterglow, Natalie clumsily knocked the papers on the floor. She dropped to her knees and started scanning with a furrowed brow.

Dear Ms Marsh,

Congratulations! You have been accepted by PumpLabs to participate in the exclusive prototypical phase of our latest range of workout enhancing products: The PumpSuit! (Patent pending).

Here at PumpLabs, we monitor the progress of budding ‘athletes’ from all over the globe, and in light of your social media campaign, our executive group of elite fitness and nutrition experts unanimously agreed that you could use our help.

Our hearts here at PumpLabs are too big to watch another potential ‘athlete’ fighting against the tide. We feel the need to help those athletes who need that final step. We recognise struggling ‘athletes’ like yourself, and are always quick to recognise when assistance is needed – as we have notably found in your case.

Accordingly, we have generously donated our latest, most exciting product to the ones who desperately need it. We promote fitness and strength for all – even to those whom it appears completely out of reach.’


The sentences bit like a snake; fast, sharp and with loaded fangs that sunk in deep. Natalie’s eyes were stinging with tears before she could even finish the last sentence. Squeezing the tears from her quivering blue eyes, she tried to continue.

“PumpLabs was founded in 2011 with the aim of blah blah f**king blah.” Natalie snapped. Her shaking hands changed quickly from pleasure to resentment.

“F**k these guys! Who do they think they are?! ‘Notable amounts of help?’ ‘Out of my reach?!” She tossed the sheets over her shoulder in a fluster. The pages spread like wings for but a split second, before crashing to a splayed heap next to her wardrobe.

Natalie bolted to her feet. All the progress she’d made, all the things she’d changed, the time she’d spent, the sweat she’d poured, the muscles she’d sculpted, the fat she’d singed, the cravings she’d endured, and the ‘friends’ she’d lost that called her boring just for giving up alcohol. And finally, someone reached out, and all they said was ‘Not good enough’? Are you even trying?!’

Destined for second fiddle, again. Just like it was with her sister. Natalie remembered watching her play baseball outside, just after her dad came home with just one glove, just for Kelly. Kelly was the sporty one. Natalie was the pretty one. That’s the way it was, that’s the way her family still thinks it is, despite everything Natalie had tried to give.

“F**k ‘em”. She spat through snarled lips. “Not today. Not now, after all I've done.

And if I’m not doing well enough by their standards – I’m sure as s**t not going to let them promote their name on my arse of all places.”


She turned to her wardrobe, her fingers already peeling the suit from her neck. Her bare foot stamped onto something cold; glancing down Natalie saw the muddled papers again.

Only this time, something caught her eye. Some emboldened sentences were too loud to ignore:

Once the suit is worn and has synergised with your muscles. You MUST NOT remove the suit for a period of at least ONE HOUR, under any circumstances. Muscles need time to absorb all the chemicals from each ‘PumpPatch’, thus removal of the suit before the body has adjusted will cause permanent damage to the muscles affected.

She read the sentence again, then once more, her flushed pink lips breathing out each word.

“What the hell is this thing?” she whispered. She looked back at herself in the mirror – she’d never felt more miniature, flatter or weaker. The ‘PumpPatches’ now seemed more visible through the suit’s tight fabric, obvious even. She repeated the words in her head, ‘synergised’, ‘chemicals’, ‘absorb’, ‘muscles!’.

The clock on her nightstand interrupted with a furious ringing. Natalie cursed under her breath. It was time to hit the gym already, and she’d spent the better part of half an hour in an emotional hurricane – better than sex one minute, in tears the next. She needed to go now or cut her workout short. And she needed a work out now.

“Fine...whatever this thing is, it won’t get a second of exposure from this body.” She muttered to herself as she picked out her baggiest, most unflattering, grey tracksuit and threw it over herself.

Time was running short, so she ran to the gym. It was usually just a 10 minute jog, but in her frustration at the letter, from those pricks, that easily became a 5 minute sprint. She couldn’t out-run those needling words that chased her along the pavement.

The contempt gave her energy, and today wasn’t the first time she’d used it as a pre-workout pump. This is going to be a real workout she told herself. Her favourite kind, the ones that purged the anger and helped forget about the past.

The crisp morning air had done little to clear her mind. Yet the fast run had already made her feel better already, and her tight quads, calves and hamstrings were tingling pleasurably as the automatic gym doors opened for her.

**A little character heavy I know, but this’ll become important later, you’ll see! Everybody’s either driving towards something, or away from it - and right now it seems Natalie’s somewhere in between.

Hope you enjoyed reading again. Next – to the gym!

Offline NinjaStar

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #4 on: October 04, 2013, 08:48:03 pm »
I gotta say, I'm all gooey with anticipation. Nicely done. K+
I'm a weapons-grade skeptic, industrial-strength cynic, a hospital-grade bullshit detector. Logic and reasoning will be used with extreme prejudice. Your feelings are collateral damage.

solitariodude

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #5 on: October 05, 2013, 02:43:12 am »
Well, I really enjoy seeing some character background and plot development and you're doing great with Natalie! :clap:

Offline Poddy

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #6 on: October 09, 2013, 09:07:28 am »
**”Start the growth already!” I hear you cry!

You got it.

A thank you Ninjastar and Solitariodude for their reviews! Hope you enjoy this one too


Chapter 3 – Everyone remembers their first

Natalie preferred it when the gym was quiet and Monday mid-mornings were usually just that. But usually, the Monday morning meatheads were also long gone by 10am. Instead, the weights area rung with the sound of clanking metal, exaggerated grunts and macho banter.

“Great”   Natalie huffed.  “The day just gets better and better.” She knew they’d soon be gone, off to don their hard hats or black ties and puffy jackets – all they seemed to boast about was their work and their weights. Cardio would help pass the time, though the only thing she really wanted to throw some weights around herself.

Wasting no time, she deftly hopped onto the stair-master machine for her cardio. She’d already decided that every step would be a crushing boot atop the faces of every single one of PumpLabs’  ‘Fitness and nutrition experts’ . A weights area full of meatheads was more than enough frustration on its own, and she jerked the steps into motion with a kick that could start an old motorbike. Stumbling over her own strength, the endless stairway rolled under her stamping feet as she began her ascent to nowhere.

The suit’s soft fabric felt good as it contorted to her moving body. As her blood started pumping, the suit’s supportive grip kept squeezing it through her thighs and up through her hamstrings at the top of each movement. It gently rubbed her crotch as the skin-hugging cloth rippled under her movements.

As much as the frustration clouded her mind, more than once Natalie struggled to conceal an occasional smile; she felt virtually naked, and no one had a clue.  ‘Imagine if they knew what I had on…’   she thought  ‘the looks she would get! Would anyone say something? Would they throw me out?’    The mischievous idea gave her a second wave of energy; she increased the resistance of the machine and pumped her legs harder.

It wasn’t long before 30 minutes had passed and the machine’s small TV glistened with tiny rainbow streaks of Natalie’s sweat. Her eyes were vacant as her mind swam aimlessly. She was absorbed in the workout, consumed by the rewarding tension in her thighs.

Abruptly, an obnoxious guffawing came tearing down the walls of her mental sanctuary. The meatheads were plodding their way towards the door. Tight tank-tops and over-spilling protein shakes in hand. The walking gang of thick but soft looking flesh bumped and shouldered each other egotistically until they were through the doors and out of sight at last.

  “Finally”   she sighed. Her legs burning, she took to the water foundation for a much needed drink. Patches of darkened grey circled her neck and back. Within the suit however, Natalie was far from spent.

Usually she’d amble casually towards the weights, not wanting to look overly keen or in a rush; the same was true for machines that she wanted to use. Today though, Natalie made a bee-line straight for the benches, barbells and plates, playfully skipping over a rowing machine and on to the rubber padded floor of the weightlifting section.

A bomb-site was probably the only way to describe it.

Metals of different weights, shapes and sizes littered the floor. The bench press barbell remained fully loaded with heavy plates of 35kgs on each side, as did another bar for deadlifts. A minefield of dumbbells from 10 to 45kgs stretched like a minefield all along the weight rack, in fact one was still rocking back and forth in one of the grooves punched into the floor, presumably hurled to the ground with a primal display of indifference.

  “Arseholes”  she grunted through gritted teeth. What little salvation she’d found in the cardio had washed away and there she stood again, her mind rushing and her lungs desperately trying to exhale her anger. She checked the clock on the wall – time was ticking, and the weights evidently weren’t moving themselves, she thought. With a grimace, she began to tidy up.

The lighter dumbbells weren’t an issue – she playfully bicep-curled them onto the rack up until about 22 kilos. She approached the rest like mini-deadlifts, bending her knees low and jerking out with the toned muscles in her glutes and lower back. 30kgs were no problem, if anything it was a nice deep stretch. 35 and 40 kilos got the blood flowing through her back nicely, but the pair of 45s each took a deep breath and more strain than she’d like.

She felt her glutes and the lightly muscled cords in her lower back fully tensing as she lifted the final dumbbell up and onto the rack. She exhaled, dusted her hands and nodded at the clear(er) floor.

Next were the plates of the chest press – she removed them and gripped each large metal disc with both hands. Three sets of six plates were more than enough to get the blood pumping in her biceps, and soon they too were back where they belonged.

Only the big barbell on the floor remained. By now, with Natalie’s blood was flowing in the right places; she decided to take an added moment to check the weights - 45kgs on both sides.

  “Just one rep”   she murmured to herself. Her back, legs and backside was still warm from the dumbbells; they had been a warm-up, the same way she saw the meatheads lifting as they climbed towards their limit before performing one boisterous final rep.

She took a firm grip on the bar and with three short, sharp breaths, squeezed her legs, back and butt, and the bar slowly, shakily rose from the floor.

Glutes and legs straining, she squeezed her buttcheeks hard and pushed through to straighten her legs. Her back followed suit, and with an audible grunt, she stood fully erect, the bar trembling at her knees.

A second or two seemed to crawl past before she lowered the bar to the floor with a heavy sigh. She squatted down next to it, panting and satisfied with herself.

 Whew, I didn’t know I could lift that much. She thought, her mind’s voice panting in time with her lungs.

She confidently removed the plates from each end and rolled the bar back against the wall and slumped down onto the nearest workout bench. With a sweep of her sleeve cleared a bead of sweat from her forehead. Some of those weights individually had been her personal bests, especially the deadlift. She’d struggled with two hands with some dumbbells too, and worried for her energy levels, she sat hunched with her elbows propped on her legs.

She breathed deeply through her nose, savouring the rest when became strangely aware of her heart rate. She felt her pulse in her neck once again, and before she knew it, that sensation began pulsing through her arms, legs and lower back.

Her back bolted upright as she felt a strong grope from within the suit. Her muscles tensed as hard as they could, followed by that familiar hot squeeze as her body surged into life. The suit hugged her tightly, the fabric that sat so snugly between her thighs seemed to stroke her as it clenched her back muscles tight and the seconds marched by.

Then, within the suit’s vice-like grip, she could feel two small vines of muscle rise out and creep upwards beneath her skin, just a few daring centimetres.

Her legs and glutes followed immediately, her strong hamstrings overpowered her tightening quads and pulled them together, lifting her shuddering legs parallel to the gym floor. Natalie’s eyelids flickered as her pumping hamstrings filled and gently squeezed against her taught calves. Her glutes flexed into tight, solid buns beneath her and she could swear she was lifted a few millimetres higher as the muscles ripened.

Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, there came the rush of penetrating warmth - this time deeper into her body than she’d ever felt. She covered her trembling jaw with a shining palm, trying to disguise the ripple of intense pleasure as some kind of yawn.

Just then, her biceps felt the same tingling and Natalie’s arms tensed in unison. Her elbows clamped into her sides and she felt the two little bulbs of muscle stretch into their typical ping-pong ball size for a few aching moments, and then, with final wave of intensity, press harder against her ribcage.

Natalie gave the slightest thrust of her crotch as the warmth crashed through and enveloped her. She kept her eyes closed and revelled in the pump. It pumped furiously – and she was convinced it felt thicker than usual – she could even follow it through her arms, butt, and legs and down into the small of her back.

  “Is it over?”   She panted delicately.

Tentatively, she rolled up one sleeve, revealing the suit’s light blue skin. She had to blink as she saw a strong, pronounced vein winding down her forearm towards her pumping biceps.

Natalie gasped and immediately covered it.  ‘What the hell was THAT? Is there more?’ She thought, ‘God that was good…but, oh God, did I almost cum in front of everyone here?!’

Her eyes wide and still breathless, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were a flushed a vitalised, youthful pink, her skin glistened and her lips were redder than she’d ever seen them. Her face shimmered from sweat and her body glowed from the suits overwhelming embrace.

She reached a hand around her to her lower back. Foraging with her fingers, she found a newly deepened valley between two short, solid vines of muscle, and she couldn’t supress her shock. She ran her hands over her legs – they were hard and felt fit to burst when she extended her legs and tensed her quads.

But what struck her most was the energy - energy so pure she could have run to the weight stand and snatched the 20kg dumbbells with her teeth. Her legs felt weightless as the massaging warmth trickled down her shaking quads and into her petite feet.

Natalie gleefully glided over to the weight rack. Her mind was a rushing torrent of pleasure and the terrified energy from a thrill ride that left her scared to experience it again, yet unable to think about anything else.

One thought did emerge from the blinding currents – her chest workout, that real workout she’d been needing.

16kgs was already heavier than her usual chest warm-up, but the rush, the warmth, the empowering grip of her PumpSuit made the choice for her. Shuffling eagerly back to the same bench – where a heart-shaped patch of sweat lay in the centre – she lay flat on her back and began a chest press.

The first set felt almost weightless. She waited for the burn and strain that never seemed to arrive, 20 easy reps. Incredulous, she put the 16s back and reached for the 18 kilogram dumbbells – Natalie wasn’t into easy workouts; intensity was the always bare minimum she allowed herself.

With held breath, she hoisted the 18kg dumbbells over her chest. That was more difficult. As her rush of energy faded, the reps became harder, more laboured and the muscles strained. She stuck through it though, finishing the exercise and dropping the weights to the floor with a clatter.

She trembled with nervous energy every time she finished a set. ‘Is it going to happen again? Is it going to happen this time? It’s the workout that sets it off, right? Maybe it isn’t? It is on a timer or something, like every 30 minutes? What’s happening under this suit? How much of these ‘chemicals’ is it giving me? Should I even do it again?’

At the end of each set, she’d gaze into the mirror and wait anxiously. The seconds quickly became minutes, but nothing. Whatever the case, she secretly knew she’d welcome it whenever it returned. She tensely continued working through her chest workout, cautious not to drop the intensity.

Every set went by without a snag. She pushed hard on her incline bench press, eager to stress her upper pectorals on her rather featureless chest. Natalie maintained that having nice boobs was one though, but having a ‘chest’ was another.

Natalie had worked up a decent sweat by the time she’d finished her chest, and her hands gently trembled from a mixture of adrenaline and frayed nerves. She needed a few minutes rest before moving onto her biceps.

She couldn’t stop looking over her shoulders, glancing around in case another person came into the weights area – she definitely didn’t want the rush to come then. For now it was thankfully deserted. As a precaution, she pulled the hood of her tracksuit up over her head. Looking into the mirror, some blond hair dangled out and her blue eyes glimmered from within the shade.

The tension made her muscles ache, all the pent up energy, and anticipation spent wondering if the suit was going to take hold of her again and squeeze her in its pleasing, powerful grip.

Another pair of minutes passed, and nothing. With a relieved and exhausted sigh, Natalie finally felt like she could relax her body.

And she had barely time to blink before her pectorals clenched again.

Her chest muscles flexed tighter than the top of any rep. The uncontrollable flexing clamped her arms forward and together, her arms shook so much under the tension that she hunched her back forward to clench the edge of the bench, but that just made her entire upper body quiver as the suit squeezed layers of hardened muscle into her writhing body. The suit slipped greasily away from her neck as her pecs crept a few strained centimetres outwards.

The tension continued – it had already been longer than the earlier rush, and this was just one muscle group. Natalie’s wet hair clung to the side of her face as she sank her teeth in to her lower lip. The suit, now lubricated with sweat, groped her even more sensually as it slid over her skin while her muscles pumped.

Her upper pectorals took the bore of the brunt, she felt them tense more than she’d ever felt before, spreading out ever so slightly towards her collarbone. She could feel each pec individually too, both of them throbbing in harmony, before at last, the burst of heat gushed through her whole chest from her neck to the very tips of her rock-hard nipples.

Her arms fell to her side, her pectorals relaxed and Natalie exhaled such a heavy sigh it blew her teeth straight off of her lip. Once more, her crotch jolted hard along the hard leather bench – Natalie was almost bent double as she panted over the bench’s edge.

“Hah…hah…Oh my god”   she whispered loudly.

The suit felt tighter than ever as its warmth oozed over her. Another flood of energy and pleasure enveloped her body, from her quivering pecs, to her fluttering fingertips and tingling toes.

Natalie watched herself grinning from ear to ear as she blushed in the mirror.

**Hope you enjoyed reading. It’s just baby steps for now, as you can see Natalie’s still learning how it all works – I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it…
Chapter 4 is already half written, so you prolly won’t have to wait long for that. Monday is for chest  AND biceps you know
!

solitariodude

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #7 on: October 09, 2013, 05:28:41 pm »
Very nice! Love the way it all creeps in (the on-going growth) instead of "instant muscles" :thanks: and looking forward to more. K+

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #8 on: November 27, 2013, 03:18:17 pm »
Many apologies for taking such a long time to write up this last chapter, time just slips away so quickly. Another thank you to Solitariodude for the review! Hope you enjoy this one.

Chapter 4

Natalie’s eyes dazedly regained their focus and she soon re-entered her senses.  Her body buzzed with energy as her pecs twitched with flirtatious muscle spasms. She froze in wonderment while her muscles jerked eagerly, as though they had so much more to give.

They stopped soon afterwards, and with a wary glance over each shoulder, Natalie assumed control of her invigorated body.

She tensed her chest and her eyes and mouth widened in tandem. Newly formed pectorals, she could move them, feel them separately, control them, squeeze them and feel them rise together. Her boobs jerked playfully and after few playful twitches she regretted wearing the unflattering tracksuit as she explored the new muscles in her chest. Little gasps escaped from her mouth with every flex, each one more addictive than the last.

The early stages of two hard, tight pectorals greeted Natalie’s nervous fingers. She gasped, before running a tentative finger slowly in-between the new gap between her muscles, she slid it down the smooth, moist fabric for only an inch before her perky breasts intervened. She flexed them incredulously; feeling the suit tighten around her chest and underarms as she did – for a few entranced moments, she forgot about the letter’s hurtful contents and became entranced in her own reflection.

Her cheeks flushed with a post-sex glow, and lips were a rich red, once she’d swept her sweaty hair from her face, that is. The suit had eased its grip slightly, but still kept a few of its warm fingers on her clit.

Natalie couldn’t clasp her hands around the dumbbells fast enough. Her delicate small hands poked out from the baggy sleeves – nails buffed and shined. Excitedly, she began to curl.

Her arms tensed pleasurably, again feeling the suit’s support around her arms as she lifted. She felt her biceps poke into her sides. They pressed against her sides when her muscles were fully tensed. She lifted with discipline – long, sustained motions isolated the muscle group, she extended her arm and let the dumbbell down to her waist, before she restarted its steady journey back to her upper arms with a satisfying squeeze.

Months of high intensity reps had crafted her arms into hard, sleek but ultimately flat slabs. Her strength had improved greatly as the months had crept by, but her thin arms were still in keeping with the rest of her slim frame – fatless, but in places, featureless. Flexing would give only a glimpse of the thin stream of muscle that lay under her skin, if only it was as big as it was hard she always thought to herself. She had revelled in the day that she moved away from those horrendously girly, desperately feminine dumbbells and finally onto the real dumbbells, even if it was still the top row of the rack.

But from what the suit had already done to her, she was almost tempted to stop a few sets earlier. She imagined herself still in her slender figure model’s frame but with cannonball biceps bulging from each arm and grimaced at the uncomfortable image.

Yet her reservoir of energy refused to run dry, the end of each set was so satisfying she knew she’d felt guilty for not attacking the next. Pushing herself was never a problem for Natalie. She’d set the bar at preposterous heights, fail again and again to the point of despair, and then raise the bar higher still.

Adrenaline fizzled behind her eyes as she pumped out the reps. It was just one of those workouts, where everything went just like she wanted it to, only with the special addition of this, whatever you call it, helping her along the way.

Natalie burned through set and after set – now mindful to keep the intensity high – she noted that the suit squeezed her after a few minutes of rest. I guess it thought I was finished she thought as she grunted through some barbell curls. If I let my body relax for too long it might start doing its ‘thing’ to me again before I’m ready.

Dropping the weights by her ankles with a sigh, she sat back and let her weightless arms hang by her sides. She sat panting; her pecs were still tense. She could feel her chest sticking out further than before, or that her shoulders had been pushed wider apart to make way for the new muscle – she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her forearms throbbed pleasurably, and the burning in her strained biceps washed away while Natalie’s mind drifted into emptiness as she vacantly stared into the ceilings lights and revelled in the pump – her workout was finished.

“Ok” she panted quietly to herself “I’ve gotta see it this time.” She couldn’t contain her curiosity a moment longer, the way the suit had groped her muscles and squeezed her body made her feel so aroused, even desired. If it wasn’t for the smattering of other people in the gym, the track suit would have been practically ripped off and she’d have been giddily watching herself in the mirror, counting down the seconds until the next rush.

Replacing the last dumbbell, she practically skipped out of the gates of the weights area like a school girl in the mid-afternoon. She wasn’t willing to get caught in the open again if the suit decided to unleash its offerings unexpectedly.

Natalie’s favourite stall was the one tucked away in the furthest, quietest corner of the changing room. Natalie liked the privacy. Three snapped clothes hooks on the door kept it empty. It was her bubble of privacy for her post-workout selfies, flexes and for countless lost hours admiring and critiquing her body in largely uneven amounts.

She didn’t spare a glance at herself in the changing room mirrors – it took everything from her not to sprint to the cubicle, only a middle-aged woman drying her hair forced her to try and act naturally.

Seconds later the tracksuit, made heavy with sweat laid in a heap on the floor at the delicate feet of a breathless, stunned and a little bit frightened teenager.

Natalie stood wide-eyed in the mirror. Natalie had observed herself long enough to know every inch of her body and she had absolutely no doubt she had changed – been changed. She drank in the sight of her fuller body within her skin-tight PumpSuit. She glowed from within its grip, it clung to her frame more tightly that before. Twisting curiously to the side, her glutes hung in a plump pair, stretching the suit and tightening her crotch.

Her smooth legs were fuller too, with two small bumps of muscle hanging atop and framing each kneecap. Just those few centimetres of mass made her waist looked even smaller.

“Curves” she breathed with pleasure. Her breasts, perking and crowned with hardened nipples, twitched beneath her cooing, open jaw. “God, look at me… Look at me!”  She squeaked giddily.

Looking down, she’d almost been overwhelmed into forgetting her new-found pecs. She deftly assumed control her new muscles and twitched the same breast again. The tension felt good, even if it only sent an unobtrusive ripple and inch down her chest. She tensed them both together, her tits playfully bounced beneath their blue skin, nipples trying to burst free.

She drew her arms together and forward in front of her, giving her pecs a real squeeze. She scoffed in disbelief as she saw the start of a small crevice between her muscles, just beneath her neck. Previously soft, flat flesh had been inflated with a sturdy, albeit thin layer of muscle just an inch tall that stretched parallel to her collarbone.

The shelf of muscle hoisted her breasts higher, and again it made her look fuller as her tits pressed against the suit. She released them from her flex, the corners of her plump lips twitching into crooked crescents, and turned her attention to her arms.

She blinked in astonishment, she froze the hand that was reaching for the suit’s sleeve, and she needn’t even roll it up. Thick veins trickled down her forearms, so pronounced they were easily visible through the suit. Two of their ridges forked through the joint of her elbow before conjoining their narrow rivulets into one thick creek that ran up and along her bicep.

The same was true of the other arm. Natalie prodded them curiously, holding them down for a few seconds and watching the blocked streams bulge with blood, before releasing the flow and watching her them return to ripeness.

Has is happened already? Did it I just not notice? I’ve never seen my arms this pumped before, God, look at all the veins! She thought, enthralled by her vascularity.

The suit gladly answered for her. It sucked the breath out her lungs, and she felt that deep heat rising through her body as the suit squeezed her arms.

Her arms snapped to her side and her biceps flexed, pulling her trembling fists up to her shoulders. She fought to keep her eyes focused in the mirror. Through flickering eyelids and delicate moans, with a penetrating rush of warmth she watched her biceps swell up and up into compact little balls.

She felt the spandex stretch and the muscles bulge against her ribcage with fullness. Her knees jolted underneath her and her eyes shook in their sockets. Her forearms rippled with sinews too, encasing her elbow joint and etching agile, crowded cords of sinew down to her trembling hands.
Natalie spotted veins that furiously pumped to fuel her biceps. They struck down her forearm like lightening, and with one final burning squeeze, the suit tightened its sensual grip. It released a crashing orgasm through her body and Natalie’s knee buckled beneath her.

She collapsed onto the bench, heaving as fresh waves of pleasure rippled through her, her body throbbing at the suits desire. Her small feet fluttered in girly little kicks as the sensation washed from her toes all the way up to her cheeks and then back down again.

“Hah…hah…humphf…” she panted, her eyes still closed and her mind still swimming in the pleasure. She’d never had an orgasm like it, such explosive sensation crackling into every fibre in her body. Like a drug, she gleefully relaxed, opened herself to the effects and let it flow through her.

A minute or so marched by before she blinked herself back into the tiny cubicle. The wooden walls seemed to burst with vibrancy she’d never noticed before, and the bench felt so smooth under her quaking fingers. Drunk with sexual pleasure, she dizzily rose to her feet and blinked her body back into focus in the mirror.

Natalie was looking at her arms before they were even back in focus. No longer featureless and flat –richer, fuller arms greeted her. Her forearms had followed suit, the muscles before her elbow were thicker, wider and still pulsed with veins that slowly started to melt away as the rush began fade.

She flexed them high above her shoulders, and there rose muscles in her arm higher than before. A neat, defined lump in her arm pushed through the suit, a vein strapped across the top of each. She flexed them into submission. She’d never felt such tension, such a sensation from within her arms. She watched with a giddy smile as from beneath the stretching spandex, her biceps peaked into firm, powerful little lumps that belied her lean, feminine frame.

Instinctively, she grabbed her phone and gorged herself with selfies. All of a sudden, the awkwardness had fled and there wasn’t an ounce of contrition left to pester her self-consciousness. She snapped dozens of times – of her arms flexed, her pecs, her legs and her bum, from all angles until she was satisfied and left staring back in her own reflection as she came down from the high.

Then it struck her - that familiar feeling of post-sex shame, when you blink back to real life and see just what you’ve been doing to yourself. A shockwave of embarrassment burst within her, like she’d noticed a dozen spying eyes watching her from underneath the cubicle door.

“Oh, Jesus Christ. What have I done?!” she stammered. “What’s happened to me? What the fuck have I just done to myself?! Why didn’t I stop!? Look at me!”

Natalie checked for prying eyes, scanning the floor as she bent down to the pick up her tracksuit. She threw it back over herself, ignoring the dampness from the workout. “I’ve gotta go home - I’ve gotta go home – I’ve gotta go home right now!” she gushed in her head as she burst out of the cubicle, passed the middle-aged woman still blow-drying her hair and out of the changing rooms.

So there it is. Ups and downs really! In the same way I’m not fully into hugely explosively growth, I still try to make the whole process, both physically and emotionally, a little more realistic too. A lot has just happened to Natalie, and it’s going to take her a while, like any body-conscious teenage girl, to accept it. But I have a sneaky feeling she’ll come to like it in the end  Next chapter hopefully won’t take as long to write, and I think I’ll have a little more fun writing it seeing as there’ll be a new character introduced as well. Thanks for reading!

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #9 on: November 27, 2013, 05:59:13 pm »
Welcome back. I know how hard it is to keep motivated. But it's good to see well-written growth in earnest, even if it is rather modest at first. I have a feeling Natalie's barely scratched the surface. K+
I'm a weapons-grade skeptic, industrial-strength cynic, a hospital-grade bullshit detector. Logic and reasoning will be used with extreme prejudice. Your feelings are collateral damage.

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #10 on: December 29, 2013, 03:36:02 pm »
(A/n) Apologies for another long delay. Thanks again to NinjaStar for showing how regularly updated content should be done! Hope you guys enjoy this one.

Chapter 5 Part 1

The day working in her mother’s corner shop came and went in a blur. Natalie dashed home, gulped down the two post-supplements (which were also tasteless and a bit lumpy) as per the instructions, which she stuffed in her backpack and spent every private moment reading, re-reading, then re-reading again. Her mind and her body felt out of synchrony, despite the overwhelmed pleasure of her morning workout, the euphoria seemed like a distant memory, poorly disguised as sheer denial.

An over-sized mound of stock from deliverymen had awaited her at the store – which meant Natalie’s Mum spent the day shouting down the phone, which put her in a bad mood, and would have normally irritated Natalie too if she hadn’t been too busy letting her physiotherapy textbooks gather dust in the corner while she scoured the PumpLab notes.

Her phone had also been vibrating incessantly since she left the gym. Previously its needy tantrums would have had Natalie rushing over to it like mother checking on her new-born - instead, its cries for attention went unheeded. 

Natalie’s mind paced busily in directionless circles – the suit, the sensations, the workout, the mirror, the orgasm, the muscles – her conscience drifted down fast-flowing torrents of wonderment, unease, fear and excitement, lasting well into the evening when Natalie could close the store and retire upstairs to her bedroom.

The cluster of A4 notes lay ruffled and dog-eared on her bed, the last page was the most worn, proof of how many times it had been studied, with a several paragraphs illuminated in pink highlighter:

Please find attached overleaf, further details and instructions on using the PumpSuit©. PLEASE READ THOROUGHLY BEFORE USE.

Chapter 2A-B3 The PumpSuit© and allocation of PumpPatches©: - on the shoulders (posterior, lateral, anterior fibres), biceps, triceps, back (extended trapezius and latissimus dorsi muscle coverage), chest(left and right pectoralis major and minor), abdominals , glutes(gluteus maximus) and two large horizontal PumpPatches© positioned on the front and rear of upper thighs. Upon donning the PumpSuit©, these Pump-Patches© require a minimum of 30 seconds to recognise and activate the associated muscle – administering our (patent-pending) PumpSuit Formula©.
The PumpSuit Formula ©(patent-pending) is a hyper-muscle sensitising chemical, causing any affected muscles to react as though they have been subjected to 20 times the physical strain – significantly enhancing and potently inducing muscular hypertrophy, including both myofibrillar and sarcoplasmic growth – or in layman’s terms, both size and strength.

Combined with the pre and post supplements, the affected muscles must be fuelled by our ground-breaking super-nutrients to cope with the growth and to maximise the PumpSuit’s© effects. All three must work in synchrony. With any of the three components omitted, results will invariably decline, energy will reduce, and by proxy, the effectiveness of workouts as well as the potency of any ‘vitality’ associated with the PumpSuit’s © effects

Take note - Please read and understand these directions, adhering to these instructions is essential to maximising the benefits of the PumpSuit ©.

Fully maximising the effects of the PumpSuit © takes an athlete of the utmost focus, dedication and, importantly, mental strength – we hope you are up to the challenge.

What you have in your hands is highly experimental, extremely valuable and enormously powerful.
We’ll be in touch regarding more detailed feedback in the near future.
For now, enjoy the Mk. 1 PumpSuit ©.

Yours in health,

PumpLabs©


‘Steroid suit?!’ was handwritten and circled underneath in the same fluorescent ink.

That question had wracked her thoughts since she first felt her biceps bulge and her pecs ripple in the changing room. The sudden realisation of the potent chemicals that must have been coursing through her body left a gnawing uneasiness insider her stomach. It felt so good, but was it too good? Was any of it legal? Was it safe? What happens if I use it too much or too often? Will my mum notice I start bulking up like a bodybuilder? What would she say? She’d seen videos of female bodybuilders, and the unashamed presence of the suit’s performance enhancing chemicals came with all the presumptions that would naturally occupy any pretty 19 year old girl’s mind.

Natalie hadn’t looked at any of the pictures she’d taken at the gym, or the avalanche of Insta**** messages which had been bombarding her phone. She knew what she’d seen, but her memory was clouded with such sheer incredulity, by the time she collapsed onto her bed she was unsure whether the morning had even happened or not.

She passed out the moment her head hit the pillow.

-------

The next morning, the alarm clock bleated loudly atop the nightstand, signalling ‘Gym o’clock’ as Natalie said. She stood next to the bed, naked, and thoroughly engrossed by her phone.

Her thumb scrolled furiously through her Insta**** profile, comment after comment swept past her wide blue eyes. “Dammm girl you are so hot!!” “You’re just super :)” “Wow, what an inspiration! Keep it up!” “Jealous! You’re so perfect!” “Whatever you’ve started doing with your workouts, it’s working! You look so sexy” “Look at that assss!!!!”  “OMG give me your body!” Such ‘lucid’ praise left Natalie dazed and somewhat overwhelmed.

Evidently, the pictures she had uploaded in her post-workout haze had been well received. More than anything she’d ever posted. Finally it was the recognition she’d worked for, at long last, ever since the beginning. Even when her raunchiest pictures would gather just a smattering of likes (including one from her ever supportive mother) – when Natalie ‘played the game’ of flaunting her breasts and good looks, despite only wanting to be congratulated on her progress, she scavenged resolve when she thought it had been all but devoured by an infinitely-sized panel of invisible scrutinisers – she carried on, hoping for this day. The ‘follower’ count ticked its way steadily upwards, minute by minute.

Every aspect of Natalie’s fitness career had been quantified – how much weight she could lift, how many times, how long she could run, how far, how quickly, the width of her waist, and now a surging number of her supporters. She’d reluctantly surrendered to the numbers so long ago she couldn’t remember, and the extra followers felt just like gym progress - another 20 kilos added to her personal best, or another inch off of her already sculpted waistline.

The grip of fear suddenly loosened one of its fingers; she glanced back to the rumpled suit in her gym bag. She remembered the rush, the sensual touch its skin had on hers, another finger loosened.

She remembers the suit’s overwhelmingly delightful squeezes and the awesome pleasure that surged through her muscles when it gave them.
She looked at the handful of pictures on her phone – her athletic body fully ripened and wrapped in blue, her cheeks flushed, and her hair sweaty and ruffled, her lips popping pink and her smile flirtatious – virtually post-sex. One final anxious finger uncurled from around her irresolute conscience.

She padded over in the front of the mirror. Her body was undoubtedly fuller, enriched with extra curves. Plumper leg muscles drew her waist even tighter, her widened upper body looked more athletic thanks to the fledging pectorals running along the very top of her chest that hoisted her perky breasts a few alluring centimetres higher. Natalie was excited most however, by her newly shaped ass. Underwhelming – by her standards – before, now sat a boastfully plump pair of sturdy glutes. Natalie spun to her side, she spied her breasts and behind confidently protuberant, and her heart fluttered at the sight. The thought of a leg workout, where she’d really get to work out her glutes, quads and hamstrings made her tense her muscles subconsciously, her mind and body suddenly became eager to explore.

“One more workout couldn’t hurt.” She muttered through pensive lips.  “If it’s too dangerous– I’ll stop. If it’s too much – I’ll stop. If I start looking like some juiced-up steroid freak – I’ll stop. Simple.”

The modest rationing cleared her mind, and for the first time since the package arrived, Natalie felt as though she had found something that resembled clarity.

She unfurled the tiny-looking suit onto the bed. She studied it closely while she stood naked. The blue-skinned garment looked so small and so harmless when unoccupied; she sighed excitedly as she laced herself inside it, the stretchy suit gliding effortlessly over her smooth skin.
The suit’s embrace felt reassuringly familiar, but her heart pounded harder than before. She knew what was coming, and the heady mix of excitement and fear made those 30 seconds pass in an endless march.

Natalie’s body began to tremble as she felt a dormant energy bursting outwards from her chest and fizzling down to her fingers and toes. The accepting squeeze greeted her afterwards, like a pair of hands it explored her new muscles and seemed to approve, groping its sensual fingers deeper into her developing pecs and chiselled biceps.  Natalie let out a small whimper, feeling a little more in control. She gasped down deep breaths and her eyelids flickered while the suit kneaded her muscles in preparation. She exhaled in a rush of excitement, and all of her previous concerns washed away as the suit, the patches and their intoxicating formula wrapped their intoxicating fingers around her body again.

The baggy tracksuit stayed behind today. Figure-hugging leggings fit closely over her legs and she pulled one of her tighter hoodies snugly over her upper-body as she skipped down the stairs and out the front door.

A gentle buzzing behind her eyes acted stronger than any pre-workout supplement – the adrenaline fizzled through her all the way to the gym. She cycled to get the blood pumping through her legs before she would subject them to the squats, presses, lunges and curls she excitedly intended.
Much to Natalie’s delight, the weights area was a meat-head free zone. In fact, something rather different occupied the weights area when Natalie strode confidently through the gym doors.

A petite, fragile-looking girl was pacing nervously in front of the weights rack. She barely filled a crisp-white tracksuit top and large baggy shorts revealed a slightly unfashionable amount of her pale, skinny legs. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her raven-black hair, which was draped untidily over hunched, narrow shoulders.

She uncertainly gripped her small hands around the lighter dumbbells and gave the small weights a weak tug away from the rack, before shrugging it back on to the rack one a time a with both hands. She looked young; her timid hesitation accentuated her youth. She pulled the lightest pair of dumbbells to her sides and began some poorly-formed bicep curls, completing only a couple before she returned them gingerly to the rack once again.

Natalie watched her curiously as she walked towards the changing rooms. ‘Are they doing a special on new memberships?’ Natalie thought jokily. ‘Or a potential new workout partner, perhaps?’

She certainly wouldn’t object to the idea - sharing the weights area with another girl, no matter how skinny, she knew there wasn’t anything she couldn’t teach her anyway. She would certainly have been a welcome relief from the usual jocks who contaminated the place every other day.
As she finished the thought, the frail-looking girl’s gaze caught Natalie in the mirror, and her head spun around towards the athletic blonde strutting across the room.

Natalie’s friendly smile barely had time to fully stretch across her face before the girl darted away from the weights rack and hurried towards the cardio machines. Her raven hair swept across her face, seemingly wracked with overwhelming shyness. She marched back onto the nearest treadmill, giving one final timid glance in Natalie’s direction before beginning a slow, downbeat jog.

“So much for that idea” Natalie muttered dismissively, shrugging and pushing open the changing room door.



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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #11 on: December 29, 2013, 03:37:31 pm »
Chapter 5 - Part 2

Natalie had soon forgotten the incident by the time she loaded up the squat-rack after her warm-up. The warm-up weight felt lighter than usual, and she was keen to start her leg workout in earnest.

She sank deeply into each squat, waiting to feel her glutes relax before squeezing them together and pushing herself upwards, slowly and assuredly. Her legs tingled with energy – she’d never felt such control over her movements, or such reliable power in her muscles before. Natalie felt great in the suit, even though her legs had never been her strongest body part.
But now, there was a confidence that she could rely upon her muscles with every rep that they would give her precisely what she needed to complete each exercise. She paid close attention to each muscle group, squeezing her legs at the top of each rep to maximise the workout’s efficacy.
Her muscles seemed to reward her for it, responding to their own punishment by feeding her more energy, seemingly in the assurance that they’d knowingly rebuild themselves bigger and stronger.

The raven-haired girl meanwhile, ground away on the treadmill, though her steps had become increasingly laboured. Natalie shot a spying glance over to her between sets, and sure enough the petite girl’s gaze snapped away from Natalie and straight forward like a parading soldier. Natalie snuffled with a smile, her prickly confusion slowly turning to curiosity.

She kicked out hard on the quad press machine and watched her legs swell within her leggings. Natalie wished she would simply take them off to see her muscles exposed; only her self-consciousness stopped her. She felt strong, adding a few extra kilos to confidently increase the weight beyond her personal best.

Natalie flexed out hard, expecting the resistance to check her buoyant strength, but eagerly, her quads assuredly drew themselves parallel to the floor and extended with a flourish of size that stretched her leggings a little further than before. She steadily lowered her legs and squeezed her legs out fully again – satisfaction blossomed through Natalie’s physique as she pumped out another two sets, her legs finally tiring during the last few reps.

Deep lunges and her strong hamstrings followed suit, a satiating surge of strength allowing her to the push past her personal best in both, an invigorating pump crackling through her body. Natalie rose a centimetres higher in her machine’s seat when she squeezed her hamstrings underneath her, the pumping muscles swelling under the strain of another new personal best. Her leggings felt tight around her ripened muscles, Natalie wished they had the same generous elasticity as her pumpsuit.

She completed her least favourite exercise: calf raises before staggering over to the decline bench, her swollen legs quivering with a gratifying tension, signalling their quenched exhaustion.

Her abdominals were next, she powered through the first dozen reps with the typical weightlessness, expecting her straining muscles to eventually struggle with her upper body. 30 reps went past without a hitch. She rested guiltily, only doing so because she knew she should. Another unsatisfactory 30 flew past before she jumped to her feet, grabbed a medicine ball from the rack and rested it against her forehead.

Her abs responded hungrily, pumping with adrenaline. Natalie felt the individual lumps at the very top of her abs grip around the suit’s fabric as she crunched her torso up to her knees. She pressed her forehead into the ball’s rubbery skin, hissing through the last few sets, her taut abs cried in burning submission before she finally relaxed and let the ball roll away.

Natalie clambered off of the bench and scooped up the medicine ball, wiping away the branding oval of sweat and returning it to the rack. She glanced back towards the cardio machines – no exhausted raven-haired toothpick to be seen this time.

Her hands trembling from the pumping adrenaline coursing through her panting body, Natalie wanted to take advantage of her muscles new-found hunger, finishing her ab routine with some weighted cable crunches. Another set of burning ripples swept over her abs, Natalie’s breath became more and more laboured as the temptation to explore her body’s increasing limits pushed her onwards. Sweat dripped off of her nose while she grunted through another set.

Her mind was lost in the sensation of her burning stomach muscles, she felt them tighten and then confidently pull together with a deep squeeze, ensnaring their strength all the way to the triumphant peak of their tension, before finally releasing them with an aching wash of relief. 

Exhausted, panting and sweating, Natalie stumbled to her feet, feeling dizzy as she rose upright. The blood eventually returned to her head, but she was giddy as she staggered towards the changing rooms and in to her usual peg-less cubicle.

Her body felt depleted, her steps were weightless under the numbness of her spent muscles, but Natalie was already grinning with anticipation by the time she locked the cubicle door – poised and satisfied that she had done more than enough for the suit to reward her, handsomely.

With her body already bubbling up with irresistible power, Natalie had just enough to time to slip out of her sneakers before she felt the suit’s eager burning pleasure began sweeping up her legs. Scrambling to pull her leggings down, she pulled them over her rounded backside and just down to her knees, fighting the persuasive arousal of her humming muscles.

But by then it was too much, she fell down on the cubicle bench as her legs were flooded with pumping pleasure. Her legs bolted outwards, tensing parallel to the floor - half-exposed. Natalie looked down at her revealed quad muscles, finally getting a glimpse of them in their unconcealed form.
Lean, tight muscles marched down her legs. Her legs filled out from the crotch down in a wave-like ripple, thickness burst from below her waist and rippled to her quaking knees, trickling down either side before swelling again in her sinewy calves.

Her glutes clenched keenly together and provided Natalie body with a meaty, pumping cushion of power atop which she sat. They stretched the suit tight around her crotch, tugging it tighter and tighter against her clit, the sweat-soaked spandex lapped against her masterfully as her muscles throbbed and bulged rhythmically. Rapidly the sweat was lost amongst the wetness from her tender womanhood.

Defined sinews effervesced through her glowing quads, they ripened before her eyes, and intricate strands of new muscles emerged and pressed their way outwards against her soft, smooth skin. An outline of a muscular teardrop beside each kneecap soon appeared, and more muscles thickened up towards her crotch before they disappeared under the suit tiny leggings.

Her legs fluttered as her hamstrings tightened and began to grow, Natalie felt her legs bulge again as the muscles stamped their presence on to the backs of her legs – kicking back her chin and forcing a delicate moan from Natalie’s entranced mouth. Her tingling toes spread out individually as Natalie’s body feasted on the pleasure.

Her abs were next. Natalie crunched forward, her body movements being entirely dictated by her bulging, expanding muscles – but she was so submissive to the glorious pleasure that she couldn’t care less. She felt the burning, shallow knots of muscles on her stomach clench around the suit once again, this time the blooming sensation kicked the air out of her lungs as all 6 of abdominals flexed in synchrony.

Her straightened legs were hoisted up a dozen degrees into the air as tightness gripped Natalie’s midriff, the suit feeding her surging abdominals. Her body was clinched in the gymnastic pose, her toes pointed to satisfy the fervent tension in her quads and hamstrings. She felt her abs punch outwards a couple of centimetres, and the two individual nubs of her upper abs bulge out harder than the others before the suit finally released her.

Natalie legs fell lax and her heels crashed into the warm tiled floor. Her body buzzed with pleasure, Natalie’s abs and legs spasmed giddily, overjoyed with the suit’s reward. Natalie drew her feet back underneath the bench, she felt new hamstrings muscles flexing under her, swelling against the wooden slats.

She sighed loudly, more than satisfied. Wiping her sweaty hair from her face, she staggered to her feet and to the mirror. Her legs trembled underneath her, she giggled when she saw her exposed thighs twitching below the tight suit around her moist crotch.

Natalie need the support from the cubicle walls to take her leggings completely off, finally revealing her new heart-shaped calves. A thick vein ran up each of her quad muscles, still pumped up with blood, adrenaline and whatever else the suit had so generously given her. Her legs were enveloped in denser quads from beneath the crotch down to her knees, with the early forms of two teardrops of muscle next to each kneecap.

Her quads had filled up like a leg inside a stocking, wrapped in hard, lean muscles. There was no water retention; no illusion to their size, every muscly millimetre was strong, fatless fibres that encased her lower body.

Her small kneecaps made her quads look even bigger, as did her waist. Natalie flexed her legs and saw the sinews rise to the fore, keen to be seen. They looked thicker, firmer and riper than she’d ever seen them. She inspected them curiously, flexing one leg completely and turning it slowly. Definition swept across all parts of it, and a thick, powerful cord of muscle stretched down the inside of her leg when she pulled her leg out to the side.

She mapped her legs’ new musculature with her fingers. She squeezed and could barely indent an inch. Her fingernails flushed with a pale yellow, but were met only with rock hard legs. An incredulous gasp spilled from her lips as she continued groping her legs, searching for some kind of weakness, a few rogue inches that hadn’t been powerfully coated in new muscle.

Her calves bulged out from her sleek shins when she titled a foot into her toes, and already looked defined and hard, athletically defying the girly little feet on which they were perched.

Next, Natalie straightened her back and saw her abs printed against the suit’s sweaty interior.

She exhaled with delight, and watched her lean, dry, tight abdominals ripple in reply. A solid, defined 6-pack greeted her, her top 4 abs in tight, fatless, small blocks and her bottom two abs marking their presence before flowing sleekly down to her sculpted waist. Natalie playfully breathed in and out, watching her newly pronounced abs rise and depress under her skin and against the suit. She was transfixed, in awe of her the powerful, athletic muscles that flexed inches under her delicate boobs that signified her gentle femininity.  Beneath her glowing, beautiful face and under her soft, hairless skin lurked such athletic power that she couldn’t look away from her reflection, she was hypnotised by that entirely unique living figure of power and beauty – combined.

She was already starting to cut a powerfully athletic figure, the newfound strength inside her muscles felt like it dug down into her very bones. Addiction crackled through her like wildfire.

She needn’t confirm it to herself. She knew exactly what to do.

She reached for her phone, snapped a few more sexy ‘post-sex’ selfies, and foraged for the menu to edit her profile and moments later, her shaking thumbs began ‘tacking’ at the screen.

‘Natalie Marsh – Gymfreak –PumpLabs Athlete - Physique Competitor’

Natalie strode out of the gym beaming. She leapt onto her bike with adrenaline still coursing through her, unabashed and with enough energy to walk straight up to the weights and workout all over again.

But standing, staring through the lobby window was the raven-haired girl, sipping on a small protein shake. Natalie’s gaze caught a glimpse of her skinny figure behind the glass before she unlocked her bicycle outside; she threw her leg over the seat and looked again, deliberately this time.
The girl didn’t move, seemingly thinking she was invisible, or on the wrong side of a two-way mirror. She sucked away feebly on her carton and continued vacantly staring.

Natalie cocked an eyebrow before an incredulous smile spread across her face - her body was glowing with too much energy and fulfilment to get angry. Natalie raised an arm and waved, wiggling her fingers at the end of her hand spiritedly.

The girl jolted in shock and immediately turned away, scampering out of sight before her carton hit the floor. Natalie spluttered with laughter, shaking her head before confidently kicking herself forward and towards home.

Offline NinjaStar

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #12 on: December 29, 2013, 06:08:10 pm »
Lodi dodi, big K+ to Poddy. Alright, now that's what I'm talking about. I gotta tell you, I'm jealous of how seamless you write. Good stuff, keep it up.
I'm a weapons-grade skeptic, industrial-strength cynic, a hospital-grade bullshit detector. Logic and reasoning will be used with extreme prejudice. Your feelings are collateral damage.

solitariodude

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #13 on: December 30, 2013, 02:34:28 am »
 :bravo: Best chapter yet :thanks: and K for continuing with a great story!

Offline Poddy

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Re: Natalie and the PumpSuit (FMG)
« Reply #14 on: January 26, 2014, 03:02:01 am »
Big thanks for NinjaStar and Solitariodude for their support once again. I'm interested to know what you guys think about this (mammoth) chapter, and any constructive feedback is more than welcome - I want to make this story as much as I can.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one.

Chapter 6 - Part 1

Three months later, the awkward relationship continued.

Natalie’s curiosity had over-stayed its welcome. She’d wanted to approach (or confront, she struggled to decide on the more appropriate word) since the beginning of the month, only the skinny girl had become as scarce as her gawking subtlety.

Becoming more muscular by the day had been life-changing but isolating. The ogling meatheads had swollen in numbers and had forced Natalie to change her schedule. Their jibes were easily ignored, although on the worse days she felt claustrophobic amongst the bustling swarm of bloated, sneering bodies. Their macho bewilderment stank, and she didn’t receive much in the way of support. Not that she needed it - she now bench-pressed and bicep-curled more than the slender minority who weren’t on steroids.

She could only share the candid truth behind her growth with the elusive PumpLabs ‘performance evaluators’ who covertly interviewed her behind the store every few weeks. Her transformation was hard enough to hide within her increasingly tight wardrobe, and was proving equally difficult emotionally.

Months of bottled-up silence were slowly beginning to boil over, but Natalie had an inkling about who she might be able to turn to.
 
The raven-haired girl seemed the perfect rare flower. Natalie certainly wasn’t scared of her, yet somehow extremely timid nature made her as unusual as she was unthreatening. Nevertheless, that morning when Natalie decided to hit the gym much earlier than usual, creep into the weights area and right up to the fragile little girl resting on an inclined bench, she wasn’t sure what to really expect.

The girl’s cheeks burst out in bright pink as she pressed a pair of light dumbbells quaking over her shoulders. She drew them back down for another rep and her nostrils flared wide. Her effort certainly couldn’t be questioned when a stifled huff burst from her plump red lips, and a bead of a sweat trickled down her sleek nose.

Her laborious set masked Natalie’s quiet footsteps so well, that she never noticed the beautiful spandex-clad muscle girl gliding up behind her.

Natalie had never seen her ‘admirer’ so closely before. She stood over the end of the bench, looking down at the panting, upside-down face beneath her. She was young, and pretty - much prettier than she expected. Deep green eyes lay beneath flickering eyelids, her nostrils flared again with a huff of breath and her ripe red lips warped under the exertion.

Natalie’s eyes traced over her soft, smooth features and spotless pale skin. Her flushed cheeks, while not chubby, still show no trace of her cheekbones. Her long hair sat dishevelled over her shoulders – thick and black as tar. Nonetheless, it shimmered healthily under the dawning sunlight pouring through the windows.

Most overwhelmingly however, she was as thin as a rake. Her trembling arms pushed skywards for another rep, barely a sinew rose from them as the small dumbbells passed her shoulders and locked over her head.  Her pasty, scrawny legs poked out of her baggy blue shorts, her skinny shins planted into the floor by a pair of bony knees.

After a long hiss, she dropped her weights to the floor and let her arms hang limply at her sides. Natalie gave her a few moments to catch her breath, and then she cleared her throat.

“Hey, need a spot for the next set?” Natalie asked spiritedly.

The girl practically leapt from her skin. She bolted upright and looked into the mirror in front of her, then to her side. Her smartphone clattered to the floor next to her petite sneakers. Her mouth fell open as she immediately recognised the muscular blonde standing next to her.

“Rachel!?” she blurted.
“Close…it’s Natalie.” She replied with a giggle.
“Oh!…Oh no, I’m sorry. I meant my name’s Rachel. It’s Rachel.” She flapped, before regained her balance on the workout bench. She clamped her hands nervously underneath her thin thighs.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Rachel.” Natalie said raising a knowing eyebrow and flashing her bright smile.

“Yeah, you too. Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” She glanced nervously around the empty weights area. “I’m surprised I couldn’t see you coming…” She trailed off, looking Natalie’s body up and down.

Three intensive months in the suit had sculpted Natalie’s body into a near-perfect image of muscular performance. She was encroaching on the size of a large female physique competitor now. Lean muscle was packed tightly into every inch of her elegant frame. Her chest had developed into two meaty slabs of armour; they rolled down from above her breasts and had been slowly swallowing their soft tissue in exchange for rock-hard plates of strength.

Her shoulders had easily seen the most growth. Rounded orbs sat proudly atop vein-strewn biceps. Sculpted and defined, her thick delts assertively widened her frame, and striations were keen to undulate through the spandex at the slightest hint of tension. The definition in her upper arms was clear to see as her shoulder muscles swept down towards her biceps and triceps. A wriggle of her fingers sent the dense sinews in her forearms dancing underneath her smooth skin.

Rachel’s eyes crawled all over her body, fascinated and curious to inspect every detail of her physique.

Natalie’s tight waist was framed by deep clefts where the suit hugged at its tightest. Natalie cut such a powerful figure; her muscles were wrapped around her so snugly she looked bulletproof. As she giggled modestly from the compliment, Rachel spied her washboard abs rippling inside the suit.
Rachel struggled to keep her jaw closed when she reached her legs.

Natalie’s blooming confidence now meant they were proudly exposed. Tiny hot-pink workout shorts stretched only centimetres longer than the suit - only the wetness, orgasms and her throbbing clit during the suit’s post-workout effects stopped her from wearing nothing over her crotch.
That said, her ripened ass still yanked the tight shorts daringly tight in between her legs, a fatless gap ever-present between her rippling thighs. Each of her glutes had ripened into its own prominent bubble; together they formed an enticingly juicy backside.

Her legs boasted size and definition. Swollen when unused, they sprung to life and surged with chiselled might whenever Natalie tensed them. Rippling quads burst beneath her skin when she flexed, a fully defined teardrop hugging the inside of each kneecap as she did. Her calves were sleek upside-down hearts that ballooned with density with every kick from her heel.

The Pumpsuit though, was the icing on the cake. By now Natalie looked shrink-wrapped inside. Any trace of fat had melted in the wake of her expanding size. The blue spandex hugged her so tightly every detail of her jacked-up muscles rippled through its skin.

The asymmetrical white stripe ran from her thick neck, over a tight pectoral, and a piercing nipple. It stepped down over one, two, three cut and pronounced nubs of abdominals before finishing above her muscular thigh.

Her workouts had become even more sensual recently – she felt the suit tighten around her muscular body with every rep. The skin-tight resistance against her swelling muscles was addictive – it had carried her through climactic reps when music and adrenaline could not. The tighter the suit, the more naked she felt inside it and the more turned-on she became as her bulging muscles became harder and harder to conceal.
 
‘But she’s still so pretty’ Rachel thought, her gaze returning to her face. Burning aches of disbelief and envy sparked inside her scrawny chest.

Atop this jacked-up, stunningly developed physique was still the face of a gorgeous young girl approaching glowing peak of her beauty. Natalie’s athletic features softened the moment her wide smile stretched across her gorgeous face. Her sweet, pink lips were framed by cute crescents. Strong cheekbones drew elegant creases along her jawline and tightened her skin into her dimpled chin. Her neck was long but powerful, widening seamlessly into her dense prominent traps.

Natalie’s crystal-blue eyes beckoned her attention so strongly with their striking depth she barely realised that she hadn’t spoken for at least half a minute.

“So anyway…do you need a spot?” Natalie chirped after the pause “I’d be happy to help out a fellow gymrat!” She kicked herself internally, the little girl didn’t need any more over-enthusiastic jibes, sarcastic or not. ‘Jesus, Nat, just try to be supportive’ her conscious snapped irritably.

Rachel rose from the bench. Her eyes met half-way up Natalie’s packed chest. One of her pecs twitched, almost in acknowledgement. Rachel sighed nervously at the sight.

“I was just finished, actually. So, sorry, I can’t today. Maybe another time, sorry” She fumbled, scratching the back of her head and pulling up the non-existent sleeves of her t-shirt. “I just need to put these back and them I’m done.” She nodded at the dumbbells at her feet.

“Ok, well the least I can do is help you with that.” Natalie bent down eagerly and picked them up. She playfully curled the light dumbbells before returning them to the rack; she felt nothing despite her bicep loyally flexing large. 

Rachel savoured another tantalising glimpse of her muscles close up and quietly sipped another awed breath.

“Oh, you dropped this too.” Natalie handed Rachel back her phone. She unconsciously glanced at the screen, and her arm suddenly retracted moments before Rachel could pluck it from her.

“Is this…is that me?” her eyes worked over the familiar selfie. Her brow scrunched in confusion.

It was a recent one, she remembered it clearly. Natalie wore a thong and a tiny t-shirt seductively hoisted up to reveal her chiselled abs. She was seductively biting a finger and her choppy blonde bob hair was swept over one eye, messy and post-sex – she was fresh out of the suit.

“Oh, is it? Sorry! I guess it just popped up on my Insta**** feed a moment ago...One of those motivation pages…or something” She lied. Natalie spied the week-old timestamp and a little red heart already filled in the corner.

“Well I guess it’s always nice to meet a fan. Thank you, Rachel” she said, returning the phone. “If you’re not in a hurry, you could spot me if you’d like.” She wriggled her delicate fingers into her workout gloves, sending her knotted forearm rippling.

“God, I’d love to watch…help you.” She swallowed. “But I’m not sure how much helped I’d be as a spotter! With that thing on it’s like you’ve already got one.” Rachel scoffed, her self-deprecation tinged with a pinch of bitterness.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh I see, I thought you were totally, y’know, open about it.”

“‘Open’ about what exactly?” concern crept into her quietening voice.

“Come on, She-Hulk” Rachel chuckled awkwardly. She glanced around for spying ears and her voice sank to a whisper, “I think I know what that thing does to you. Its effects aren’t exactly subtle” she said as she nodded at Natalie’s rock hard chest beneath her tight blue skin.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about…” Caught off guard by Rachel’s sudden turn of confidence, Natalie retreated to a rehearsed defensive tone, her eyes sharpened into icy daggers.

Rachel quickly receded into discomfort “Oh! I didn’t mean…not like that…it’s just - you’ve changed so much since when you started...” She gasped and more stifled words began to tumble from her intimidated lips “You’ve gotten so…so…” she said breathlessly. She looked miniscule compared to Natalie’s muscular body. Natalie brushed a few short blonde hairs away from her cheek, blushing and glancing at her fluorescent sneakers.

“So big?” she stretched her legs wide apart and planted her hands confidently on her hips, her smile shining across her beautiful face once more. Rachel swallowed as she saw Natalie’s muscular physique in more detail than ever before. Her cold eyes melted a little as her ego was massaged.
“Yeah” she sighed.

“Well, it’s been quite a journey, sure. I’ve been keeping my diet and my workouts on point though, and I think all my hard work is starting to pay off. The supplements from my sponsor are really helping too, I guess.”

At once an incredulous smirk twitched across Rachel’s plump lips, feeding on her Natalie’s denial. “Is that what you call them then: ‘supplements’?” her bitter tone resurfaced.

Natalie gulped, her innocent façade threatening to fracture. “Is it that obvious?” she conceded in a whisper.

“Yeah. It kind of is” Rachel scoffed as she saw the nooks in Natalie’s abs fill and the drain with her panicked breaths. “You’ve heard about ‘PumpLabs’ before, right?” Her voice cracked into sneering, nasal judgement. “You’d think anyone in their right mind would at least Google them after you noticed the ‘side effects’.”

‘This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. How has this little rake got me on the ropes like this? She knows all this because she “likes” me on Insta****? Has she known what’s been happening the whole time? God, does everyone know?!’

Natalie swallowed hard. She wanted to reset to her practiced routine of denial, but her conscience couldn’t deny what she was saying. Months of fighting against the accusations - she was almost willing to surrender – if only she didn’t seem so strange or so snarky about it. Rachel filled in the pause, gladly,

“Well, however you did it, I just have to know…How does it feel?” Rachel whispered intimately.

“How does what feel? This?” she asked, looking at her muscles; knowing she was inviting the girl head-long into another poorly-kept secret.
“What happens, you know…afterwards. How does it feel?” Rachel’s eyes grew lustfully bright. “I’d be addicted to pumping iron too if I had that thing looking after me - when it is so easy to get so big and buff. You get to play with the suit while the rest of us slave away like schmucks, earning our bodies.”

“Is that a joke?!” Natalie burst out of the futile whispers. “You don’t think I’ve earned this body? You think I do a couple of push-ups and some crunches and I wake up like this?” Tears stung her eyes, “If you want to see how I built this, if you want to know my ‘secret’, you can stay here and damn-well watch me!”

“Oh you can share you secret with me, Natalie. I won’t tell anybody, I promise.”  Still she refused relinquish her vindictive insistence; she seemingly revelled in Natalie’s discomfort. A smirking lick of her lips was enough to bury Natalie’s brow into irredeemable concern.

“That’s it! I knew this was a mistake.” Natalie growled, her hands clenching into fists. “I thought you, my very own weird little toothpick stalker would be the last person to start looking down their nose at me!” Natalie turned on her heels and marched away.

“I’m sorry! Please!” Rachel blurted after her, shameless desperation flooding her once more. Her smirk had vanished from her lips. The pumping dance music and trudging treadmills took a few seconds to bleed back into the room. 

Suddenly, through the opening changing room doors burst an ominous chorus of male voices. Spotty flesh paraded towards them and gruff, obnoxious laughter contaminated the air. The meatheads were right on schedule.

“Oh great. This is just fucking great. Stalkers to left of me, douchebags to the right, here I am…” Natalie groaned to herself.

“Don’t worry, I have an idea.” Rachel shuffled over next to her. Natalie ignored her and turned her shoulder as she wandered over to the water fountain to take a sip before the area was overrun. “You said you wanted me to watch and find out, right? Well you’re gonna need some help with all these ‘roid-junkies walking around.” Rachel called after her, before she shuffled into a corner behind the squad rack.
 

Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  Author: [poddy] Natalie and the PumpSuit | #FMG
 

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