Forum Saradas
Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction => Muscular Women Fiction => Topic started by: Hello345 on July 21, 2022, 05:53:17 pm
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Fayetteville,
North Carolina,
1961
John and Katie Moore were twins. No-one had ever been surprised by this. The two of them shared the same fair hair, the same tall, athletic build and the same quiet air of sensibility.
Despite this, or perhaps because of it, they often fought like cats and dogs. Katie saw John as lazy and weirdly obsessed with radios and John thought that Katie was a teacher's pet who cared far too much about gymnastics.
Indeed every teacher that met both of them always commented “John has the ability, he simply puts the minimum effort in.” Or at least almost all of them did.
Dr. Ohst, the excentric german biology teacher, was the only exception. He was an alcoholic, prone to violent mood swings and he hated children. However he was a genius. And for some weird reason he seemed to hate John slightly less than every other person in North Fayetteville High School.
The hallways were quite as John walked through. School had already ended and he was only wanting to ask Ohst for some advice about his ham radio when he heard voices echoing out of the classroom. Voices he recognised.
“...highest priority from Cuba. That’s the front plate of a Bulldog, an inch and a quarter of steel, just torn apart.”
John knew exactly who’s voice that was. He’d spent half his life listening to it berate him for one issue or another. For some inexplicable reason, his father was talking to his teacher about something from Cuba.
“Zat is definitely on ze upper bounds of my estimates but it zat level of strength is certainly feasible.”
Why would his biology teacher be talking to his dad? And why would they be talking about work? William Moore was a surveyor for Rosario Mining, was this something about tunnel supports? John shuffled himself forward. He knew that if he was caught he was risking a box around the ears if he was caught but
“It isn’t the best photograph, but you look right there I think you can just about make out fingerprints. I’ve got to tell you that Gottlieb isn’t happy that the Red’s program was successful while ours wasn’t.”
“Vell you can’t blame me for zat. Your government pulled the plug after giving me only two test subjects.”
“If you ever speak of my children like that again you’ll be found in less pieces than Lumumba.”
John gasped. Loudly.
“Vhat was zat?!” Ohst cried out.
John turned around and ran, as fast as he could down the empty corridor. His dad catching him eavesdropping would have been bad enough, who knows what he’d be in for if he was caught now.
***
It was a close thing but John managed to get out the school without his dad seeing him. Or at the very least without seeing his face.
But he was still wracked with nerves as he walked back home, peering over his shoulder with every other step.
Even as he stepped through the front door he was still looking back. Which meant he jumped out of his skin as he turned around and Katie swung down in front of him, hanging upside down from the bannister.
“Stop doing that! You keep frightening the life out of me.” John complained. It seemed every time he came into the house Katie found a new way to jump out and scare him. “Has dad come back yet?”
“No, why?” She raised an eyebrow, or rather lowered an eyebrow. “What have you done now?”
“Nothing, nothing.” But John’s protests fell on deaf ears as the door opened behind him. The nerves returned with a vengeance.
“What are you doing up there Katie? Get down before you fall.” Mary Moore’s voice boomed out from behind John.
The twins’ mother was generally a pleasant woman, however if she was irritated everyone around quickly found out. Mary was almost 6 foot and solidly built. She’d grown up during the dustbowls on a farm in Kansas and the manual labour of her youth still showed, in her broad shoulders and thick arms. It was especially clear given her fondness for light summer dresses.
“If you don’t get down young lady…” Mary trail off, a frown growing on her face.
“I’m fine, look- no hands!” But Mary had enough. She walked around John, grabbed one of Katie’s outstretched arms and gave it a sharp tug. The teenager overbalanced, sliding off of the bannister. Her arms and legs flailed and wind-milled as she tried to stay balanced but John could see that her fall was inevitable.
Luckily for Katie, Mary was still underneath her. The gymnast fell into her mother’s arms with a slight thud.
“Don’t keep doing that.” Mary said, her arms bulging. “If you don’t stop I’ll let you fall and see if you learn then.”
The front door opened again and William Moore stepped in. When people looked between the twins and Mary they quickly saw the resemblance. With their father it often took them longer. William was a short, wiry man left with a clicking knee after a plane crash in 1943.
Luckily for John, his dad seemed to be too surprised by the sight in front of him to question him and so he ran for the stairs while he had the chance.
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Chapter 2
The next few days were spent planning. John obsessed over the conversation he had heard but he had no background. He knew that what his father and Ohst was saying was important but he didn’t know what it was actually about.
So he decided that he would have to find the photograph that the two men where talking about. That would either give him the information he wanted or he could trade it with his dad for an explanation. The problem was finding the photograph.
It could be in his dad’s study. It could be in Ohst’s home. Or Rosario Mining’s offices. However, to start with John wanted to cross off the easiest one first. So, that Friday, as classes ended and teenagers streamed out of the school to enjoy their weekend, John stayed behind. He knew Ohst was often out of the school just as quickly as the students, quick to spend the week’s pay on alcohol.
After ten minutes John couldn’t hear any more footsteps in the corridors and made his way to Ohst’s classroom. As he expected it was empty. Ohst’s desk was an immense piece of oak that dominated the front of the room. Various trinkets and books sat on top of it but those were of no interest to John. He was wanting whatever was in the draws underneath the desk.
The first two just had sheets of paper in, half marked tests from that week. The third drawer initially looked promising, with a series of typed letters with official looking letterheads but, as John took them out to look more closely, he saw the top simply read “University of North Carolina” and the letter itself was a polite rejection of an application to a lecturing position.
John reached down to try the fourth and final drawer when he found it not budging. He looked down and saw a small keyhole hidden in the wood.
“What are you doing?”
John almost fell out of the chair as he jolted in shock. There, watching, was Katie. She raised an eyebrow.
“Come on. Why are you looking through Ohst’s stuff?”
John could see she wouldn’t let up until she had an answer. Katie was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to know something, a trait that both of the twins shared.
“Ohst was talking to dad. Something about Cuba and tearing through metal and us. They were talking about us, Katie. They had a photograph. I need to find it.”
Perhaps it the desperation in his voice, or maybe the slightly manic look in his eyes, but Katie seemed to accept his words.
“And you think that this photo will be in Ohst’s desk?” She asked.
“I don’t know. And I won’t till I find a prybar or something to open this drawer.” John stood up. “I’ll go find one. You keep watch or something.”
“Hang on, let me have a go.”
Katie walked over but John was sceptical.
“It’s an oak desk, fairly strong…”
“I reckon I could give it a go.” She said, raising her arms into the air. As she curled them, the thin sleeves of her grew taunt and bulged. Katie’s muscles had always been fairly… substantial, but this was a step beyond that. But it was a heavy desk. And that wasn’t a lock that was for show.
“You can do that. I’ll get a screw-driver.” But as John got to the classroom doorway he looked back. Katie sat in the chair behind the desk and gave the drawer a few rattles and tugs. Then she braced one arm against the desk and the other against the drawer and pulled.
Through the thin white shirt John could see the muscles in her back rippling with strength, her arms bulging and trembling as she pulled with all her might. But the drawer stayed where it was.
“I’ll be quick, grab a screw driver.”
“No! I can get it. I could feel it bend.” If there was any trait that the twins shared was stubbornness. And, judging by the intense glare that was being levelled at both him and the desk, John wasn’t willing to have Katie hate him till the end of time.
“Alright. Alright.”
With a slight look of satisfaction Katie turned back to the desk, this time bracing a leg against the draw and holding onto the handle with both hands. Muscle jumped into relief as she strained again. Previously opaque tights turned translucent as they were stretched by flexing calves and thighs.
With one last burst of effort the lock gave way with a crack and, with nothing to provide resistance, Katie tumbled over in the chair and lay sprawled out on the floor.
John rushed over to the desk. The solid drawer’s robust lock was gone. The inch thick piece of wood that had been holding it in place had snapped and broken off, leaving the lock still attached to the desk.
“John,” Katie said, pulling her self up off the floor, “How are we going to hide what we’ve done?”
John looked at the drawer again. It was blatantly obvious that the someone had broken the desk open.
“Shit. We’ll just have to hope. Now grab all the papers you can and run.”
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Goo
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Nice start
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I like the way this is moving
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Terrific start ! I'm anxious to read more.
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This seems to be the beginning of a great story. Well done.
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Interesting, a twin angle. Good flow. Hope to see more soon.
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Great story and I hope for more
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I feel like I should apologise, I never bothered to think about the title until when I was about to post the story, so the twin aspect is not actually as important to the story as the title suggests. At its heart this story is a Cold War mystery more than anything else. Besides that however, here is the third part.
Chapter 3
One again John left the school in a state of paranoia. Everywhere he looked he saw someone who he thought was watching him. The blonde girl with her arm in a sling, the new PE teacher stood smoking; their eyes seemed to follow him. It was only once they were well out of sight of the school that the they began to look through the papers.
“Well there isn’t a photograph in these. Just more rejection letters from universities. Katie?”
“Nothing here. Same as yours, just rejection letters. Honestly I hadn’t realised there were this many places you could get rejected from in North Carolina.” She said. “This one here is a bit different, it’s from a Sidney Gottlieb.”
Gottlieb, John was sure he’d heard that name before. Then it hit him. His dad had mentioned the name to Ohst. “Give me that letter, I think it’s important.”
Dr. Bernhard Ohst,
While it is understandable that you believe that the job we have placed you in is unfit for your capabilities, until the test subjects are confirmed to exhibit no external results there must be scientific observation. As it is you are the only person with enough knowledge of Project Horseradish to be able to effectively observe the subjects.
However, in regards to an expansion of the program, I cannot support any further human trials until either the existing subjects come to fruition or the animal testing shows promising results. I understand that you say that your last animal tests were promising, however if you cannot provide those mice then similarly I cannot provide funding.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly the company believes that you have been put under surveillance. Whether that is by the Soviets or perhaps the Israelis we do not know, however communiques from Moscow station show a renewed interest in German biologists. I recommend that you maintain a low profile and avoid reaching out to anyone. Instead wait for someone else to contact you.
Dr. Sidney Gottlieb
“We’re onto something here.” John said. “This might not be the photograph, but it’s definitely something.”
“If you’re right and we are the test subjects then he must have observations, recordings and the like somewhere and I’ll bet that he’ll be keeping them wherever he’s running those tests on mice.” Katie grinned. “Even if we don’t have the photograph we’ll have the information.”
“But first we should get back before Mum and Dad start to wonder where we are.”
***
When the twins got home their father was stood in the hall, shouting down the telephone.
“You don’t need to move the entire thing, you moron! Is the wreckage guarded?… Then just cut the plate off with an acetylene torch and then drive it to Guantanamo. I’ll have a Catalina waiting there to courier it back to the US.”
It was only as he put the telephone back into its cradle that he noticed the teenagers standing there.
“Problems at one of the mines. Can’t seem to get the staff!” He grimaced, before stepping into his office and collapsing, exhausted, into the armchair behind his desk. The twins hurried up the stairs and huddled in John’s room, below photographs of chrome B58s and Thunderchiefs, and plotted.
“There are three people that we know are involved with this: Dad, Ohst and Gottlieb. Ohst’s the scientist, Gottlieb’s in charge and who knows Dad’s job, but we know where Dad and Ohst are. Or at least can easily find where they are. What about this Gottlieb? Is there a return address on that letter?” John asked.
Katie pulled the letter out and looked at it. “Yeah, Fort Detrick in Maryland. That’s hundreds of miles.”
“Guess we’re just looking at Dad and Ohst, then. How can we get past the lock on Dad’s desk?”
“Well…” Katie raised her arms and flexed. The previously sleek lines of her shirt were abruptly interrupted by impressively bulging biceps, forearms straining the long sleeves’ cuffs. “I could always force it open.”
“God, no!” John spluttered. “We can hope that Ohst will think that my eavesdropping and your stunt with the desk was the Russians or whoever’s spying on Ohst, but I think it’d be a good idea to try and do this quietly. So maybe should avoid ripping apart any more desks, Katie.”
“I guess you’re right, but Dad keeps that key on him all the time. So unless you’ve learnt how to pick locks whilst you’re huddled over that radio? Well, it looks like we need to find where Ohst lives.”
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Nice to see more. Hope you continue, as the story now has a rising action.
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Took me a while to write this, but I'm fairly happy with it. Any criticism or advise for writing female muscle is welcome.
Chapter 4
The following day found the twins waiting with the rest of their class outside of Dr. Ohst’s classroom. For John the day had passed in a state of nervous paranoia. The walls seemed to be watching him as he stood by the door. He was sure the Ohst would know it had been him, know what he had done and have him dragged into some dark interrogation room by men in dark suits, fedoras and sunglasses.
There was no reason for Ohst to suspect him. They’d left no evidence when they took the papers, but the feeling wouldn’t leave John. However, as the minutes dragged on Ohst still hadn’t turned up. John found Katie in the line.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Ohst? I’m sure one of my friends said that they saw him this morning. But no one’s seen him since.”
“He must have come in, saw the desk and then ran.” John said. “We’ll have to find out where he lives.”
Eventually a teacher must have noticed that there was no-one there and one of the PE teachers was sent to take the lesson. He didn’t seem particularly interested in teaching a lesson, only briefly shouting at them to continue whatever they were doing. He spent more time staring in confusion at the splinters forming the bottom drawer of the desk.
***
It took them almost half a week to find where Ohst lived. He still had turned up in school and rumours were beginning to spread that he had quit. John was sceptical. He thought that Ohst would either be hiding or lying dead in a pool of his own blood. Eventually Katie burst into John’s bedroom, a book in hand, shouting that she’d found him. They had already checked the phone-book but in move of sheer desperation she’d checked the library, hoping that they stocked an earlier edition and he’d only recently delisted himself.
They were lucky. According the 1958 version, a Bernhard Ohst lived on 22 Marlow Street. Assuming he never moved house, they had a lead.
***
Ohst house was a small, terraced affair, in the middle of Marlow Street. Completely identical to any of the others. Completely anonymous. The curtains were all closed, the lights off. From where John and Katie watched it almost looked abandoned.
“How do you want to do this? Just knock on the door and start asking questions?” Katie asked.
“Yeah. If anyone asks we’re just worried about him.” The incredulous look on Katie’s face told him how believable she thought that excuse would be. “Look, it’ll have to do.”
The door was cheap and plasticy, giving a dull thud when John knocked on it. But there was no dark figure materialising behind the frosted glass in the door.. After quickly checking that there was no-one watching them, John took a step back and kicked the door with all his might.
That wasn’t a small amount of force. John was fairly tall and quite strong but he hadn’t counted on the flexibility of the plastic door. It absorbed the impact well and then sprung back, sending John flying backwards into the street.
He looked up to see Katie laughing at him.
“Good job, Mr. Macho Man.” She said, pulling him up. “We better try the back door then. Get away from prying eyes.”
Ohst’s back door was much the same as his front door. It overlooked a small, scraggly garden, overgrown with weeds and a gate so rusted shut that it was easier to step over it than try and open it.
“I don’t particularly fancy pretending to be a tennis ball so I’ll leave the door to you. Does that window next to the door open? And are you sure no-one can see us?” Asked Katie.
John looked closer but couldn’t see a latch or hinge.
“No and no. Why?” He said turning around.
And saw Katie unbuttoning her shirt.
“What are you doing?!” He cried as she began to shrug off the shirt, revealing a cobblestone road of a stomach, six bricks hewn from stone. She pulled the shirt off of her broad, capped shoulders and wrapped it around her hand before raising it in a fist.
“If I’m going to break the window I’d like to avoid cutting my hand to pieces.” At John’s gobsmacked look she laughed. Katie flexed her arm, biceps and triceps bulging out into towering peaks. “What do you think, could I be a boxer?”
“I don’t know. You’ve certainly got the physique for it.” John tried not to think about the fact that he was fairly certain that while Katie had always been fit, before her body hadn’t been carved by Michelangelo from a single piece of marble.
She walked over to the window, brought the hand she’d wrapped in up and then twisted her torso, coiling all those muscles up to get the maximum possible power. Previously hidden obliques flexed into life like scale armour, flanking those chiselled abs.
Like a spring she released the punch, her arm and shoulders powering forward into the plane of glass. It shattered with ease beneath the strength of her rippling muscles, shards of glass flying into the house. Katie then reached into the house and unlocked the door from the inside.
With a flourish she opened the door.
“Voilá. Welcome to Schloss Ohst.”
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Really enjoying this story, well done! :bravo:
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Awesome
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Love a good cliffhanger K+
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The plot thickens. Lets hope things pick up.