+Notable Author: [Amnoartist] Big Society: The Nun's Guns

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 1: Faith’s Strength
 
“We don’t typically have holy sisters here, let alone those of your…stature.”
 
Sister Teresa adjusted her skirt in a delicate manner, sat rigidly on a wooden chair that vainly withstood her bulk, shoes pressed firmly to the ages-old porcelain floor. The chair cracked a bit at the frame when the brunette dared to shift her weight. She looked at the priest kindly and understood why he was so guarding of the prospect in allowing her to take the position offered. Saint Luke’s was a male-only school for boys that took devout Christian values like celibacy seriously. The rod was still being used as punishment as the school had never grown out of its traditionalist ways. Worryingly, the presence of the young, presumably barely legal Sister Teresa could very well rock the celibate innocence of the boys – not to mention the priest.
 
“I completely understand, Father.”
 
In light of the situation, Father Anthony opted to remain considerate. As the school was relatively secluded, situated in the deep countryside, this was his first instance of contact with a female in God knows how long. He’d heard the news of the female sex having undergone some kind of drastic transformation months earlier, but took it as mere hearsay - Until now, where he sat ahead of a woman with an excess weight of four hundred pounds – at least. He didn’t want Sister Teresa to think her being more muscular than normal – until recently at least - was one of the reasons for not getting the job, as he wasn’t sexist. The school, for all its traditional values, seemed to be, though.
 
“Do you have your credentials?”
 
Sister Teresa pulled a small folder out of her bag – at least, it was to her – and handed it to the priest. She was hopeful in that he being willing to look at her past charges was a sign she just might get the job. The last three placements didn’t turn out so fortunate for her.
 
A pair of thin glasses over his ageing eyes, Father Anthony skimmed his way through the folder's contents until he came across an extensive listing of the sister’s previous jobs. “Interesting. It says before becoming a sister of the order, you were once a school teacher.” It went without saying that could prove useful for the school’s betterment. Perhaps then, he thought, Sister Teresa could be more beneficial than presumed. She didn’t appear to be overbearing – and hopefully wasn’t – but the vast, frightening shadow from her that engulfed the priest was convincing enough that traditional punishment might not be needed, even on the more volatile students. Her mere presence was enough. “That’s promising.”
 
“I hope my special-case predicament won’t be much of an issue for the boys.” Sister Teresa was aware each time her growth spurts occurred; she became more…appealing to the eye. That, and her own carnal urges soared in tandem. Even so, she relied purely on faith to keep the desires in her loins in check. She watched Father Anthony offer a small assuring nod. Of course, there was the possibility that the issue could come from him. “I am aware men become more…‘provoked’ as we women grow,” she added.
 
“I can assure you that won’t be an issue.” Father Anthony offered the folder back to the gargantuan sister, whose triceps and forearm flared under her outfit as she grabbed it. As typically nun-like as it was, her ensemble was clearly struggling to keep itself intact. That was to say, it vainly attempted to keep Sister Teresa modest; her large breasts were sheltered underneath the traditional black tunic that ever so slightly got tighter and tighter. Eventually, modesty would be cast to the wind and Father Anthony’s celibacy could very well be tested.
 
Everything seemed adequate enough for him to accept Sister Teresa into the school, much to her joy. She had hoped and prayed for this moment, as such, it was clear her wishes were heard by the Lord.
 
“Would you like to meet your class?” Father Anthony questioned.

///

The boys knew they were getting a new teacher for the new school year, and honestly expected it to be some old codger, not the bulging powerhouse Sister Teresa who stood by the blackboard with Father Anthony. Their respective ages and widths were contrasted. She was probably no older than twenty compared to his late fifties, alongside her barn door wide lats and his rail thin excuse of a back. Her tights were evidently starting to pull and shred, and expose titillating striated quad meat.
 
“Boys, this is Sister Teresa. She’ll be your new teacher from now on.” Father Anthony surveyed the collectively awed expressions from the youngsters. Their own mothers, sisters, aunts, cousins and grandmothers were all muscular like their new tutor, but there was something about her muscles being hidden behind clothes often associated with religion that made them all somewhat giddy. “I expect you will respect her with the utmost courtesy.”
 
The boys remained silent as ever, one half of the lot itching at the bit to get a hand round their new teacher’s mountainous bicep that was close to bursting through her tunic, the other trying to hold in their pent-up load.
 
After being introduced by her colleague, Sister Teresa stepped out further, so as to allow her students to see more of her, as it became clear they were definite fans. She heaved the gentlest of breaths and yet her large, sensual bosom still heaved forward, pulling the fabric of her tunic tighter. One leg gracefully pulled out to the side, she teased the assemblage of lads with a brisk calf flex that provoked her tights to pull. Father Anthony couldn’t see it and probably wouldn’t let such a travesty occur. This was a Christian school after all – one that stuck to its values like glue.
 
“Thank you, Father. I’ll handle it from here.”
 
Sister Teresa offered the fifty-something year-old priest an innocent toothy grin that showcased her dimples and the individually thick flaring chunks of she-meat that comprised her neck.
 
When the priest left, she turned back to the class with a knowing grin.
 
“Okay, who wants to guess how big my arms are?”
 
Predictably, and quick as a flash, all the boys raised an arm eagerly.

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 2: Religiously Ripped

Patrick was ashamed of himself. He wasn't particularly pleased about walking through the school's halls with a raging hard-on. It couldn't exactly be helped, though; he saw Sister Teresa, in fact, his eyes almost quite literally magnetised to her gargantuan frame the moment she set foot in his classroom. Her ballooned calves rippled to reveal just a hint of the inhuman she-meat underneath her slightly torn tights bolstered by glutes thicker than a Mr Olympia.

Patrick might've been self-conscious about the situation he found himself to be in but he wasn't alone: almost every boy in the establishment shared the same reaction to the holy sister as she delicately paced through the halls making sure not to bump into them on the way, a bunch of folders held tightly to her chest. Most of the youths presumed this to be a deliberate attempt at making her arms and shoulders bulge, and even if it wasn't it, it still happened.

The Sister found herself to be in a similar circumstance as the students, finding arousal fill her as they came and went. She could practically feel their excitement let alone see it poke from their trousers, but her position as a woman of the faith led Teresa to feel great shame. Even if her nipples were hard and endeavoured to slice their way through her tunic.

Patrick came to a halt at his locker just as Teresa did the same, though pulling one of his classmates aside to talk. Patrick wouldn't be able to hear, given the lanes of boys coming and going from classes to the cafeteria for lunch, but he could tell his friend was in some sense nervous around the woman; he rubbed the back of his neck and seemed to offer a small chuckle before sheepishly pointing behind the gargantuan woman.

So she was asking for directions, the only location of note behind her being the cafeteria. It was perfectly understandable: the Sister was new to the school but she seemed to linger even after being assisted. Patrick's friend cut and ran, though, long before she could say anything else.

On that note: it was lunchtime, which meant every single male - both student and tutor - would be there, no doubt fawning over the babelicious Sister. Patrick wouldn't be surprised if all the guys placed bets with one another over who would be ballsy enough to talk to her. He also wouldn't be all that shocked if neither of them were brave enough for that. Not even him.

///

By the time the boys got to the cafeteria, Sister Teresa had already taken half of everything, leaving probably just the dregs for the hungry students. They needed it more than her: they were still going through some of the later stages of adolescence, of growing up. But then, so was she. The half of the food she took had been piled onto several rows of trays on a table all to herself, the bench groaning in pain and duress under her weight, tight glutes pressing against it.

"Where does it all go?" Patrick's friend couldn't stop himself from staring at the Sister ravenously munch on her third pile of food like it was her first meal in weeks, finding the whole display somehow erotic. All the boys did. Patrick wasn't so interested in the Nun's voracious consumption of food as he was the quivering muscles under her tunic. It was as if the intake of all those calories was single-handedly forcing her body to grow. His friend, though, continued, unaware of the Sister's slow growth. "Do you think it goes to those glutes of hers? Have you seen them?"

"Everywhere." Patrick just seemed to be drawn to Teresa's rolling mass packing more onto itself as she ate and ate, and before long started picking away at her clothes, forming rips and tears across even the most delicate regions of her physique. The remaining boys sat at the other tables stopped eating to watch the Sister grow before them. They couldn't do otherwise; her growth was both audible and visible to even those assembled in the distant benches near the windows. No one was going to escape from this. As if they wanted to. The youthful nun's lats soon burst forth from her garments to reveal her already-ripped build grow even more so as if she herself was more becoming more like what she devoted her life to - a God.

"It goes everywhere" Patrick added.

Father Anthony watched from the sneeze guards, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Surely it wasn't as hot as he assumed? Did the janitor forget to check the boiler - again? No, that wasn't it. Of course not. It was all prompted by Sister Teresa's unexpected bodily expansion. The priest was quick to assume the youthful yet gargantuan woman of the cloth had been sent to him by God as a test of his faith - one Father Anthony himself knew would be difficult to achieve.

Patrick noticed Sister Teresa had offered a small, almost teasing smile at her dazzled colleague just as the onlooking students lost the willpower to withstand her perfection, prompting them to shamefully ejaculate in quick, jerking thrusts forward, some nearly hitting their faces of the tables because their arousal was so heightened. Neither Patrick nor Father Anthony succumbed to the same fate, however, intriguing the ever-larger Sister Teresa. Patrick was quick to realise she was by no means an ordinary nun, huge muscles or no.

///

Post-lunch there was no real difference. Those of the boys brave enough to face Sister Teresa after their shameful act in the cafeteria simply stared at her, never leaving even an inch of her hulking physique eye-fucked. With the exception of Patrick, there were only five boys confident enough to be around the woman, and they returned to the class each with an apple red as blood gifted to her. Of course, what they did was indeed deliberate, as they now knew what caloric intake meant for the Sister.

As if working her way down from them, Teresa first went for the apple to her immediate right, but she didn't eat that one. Alternatively, she placed the fruit in the crook of her melon-sized arm, and shrewdly smiled as it ever so casually started to split down the middle when her forearm was pulled inward. It wasn't long after that the apple itself burst into tiny pieces like a bag of confetti, juices dripping down her arm, tempting the religious woman to lick it clean off. But no--she persisted with her original goal. Almost as if it was a metaphor, the young lad who gave Sister Teresa that particular apple ejaculated the very second it burst into nothing but juice.

"I do ever so love apples," she said in a near teasing tone, making sure to wink at the boy. Doing that sent him over the edge; his head fell forward and he fainted on his desk. It was a shame he couldn't hold on even just a few seconds longer because then the woman made sure to draw out long, sexual licks across her soaked limb. "So many vitamins in them: A, B, B1, B2 B6 and C."

Patrick's apple came next. What was so special about his that the holy woman saw fit to not only skip the two before it but bite into it too? It went without saying the other boys were jealous enough to offer irked stares at Patrick as Sister Teresa bit into the fruit, her incomparably sexy legs sprawled over her desk to reveal the trunk-thick thighs under strained tights.

"Can either of you tell me which vitamin helps promote muscle growth, boys?" Of course, the Sister's question was rhetorical and more or less pointless. It didn't matter which vitamin was in what fruit or foodstuff because she grew anyway. Like she did now. It was almost cute to see the boys squirm in their seats when they watched her body grow again, as she took another, larger bite. The bigger the mouthful, the more mass she gained: that was what Patrick realised. The more mass she gained, the quicker it would be before the teenagers spurted: that everyone knew. "Vitamin B12," the pious woman concluded.

Teresa didn't permit herself to finish the apple, letting it roll down her twitching quad before bounding to the floor until stopping just an inch or two away from the table's front legs. The boys watched with curiousness, not all that sure what would happen next. Would the woman pick it up and eat it again, leave it, or ask one of her amorous students to pick it up for her? But no--she picked it up in having second thoughts over why she dropped it at all, then crushed it in her hand like it was nothing; like it was soft as a banana.

"I've got a lot of B12 in me, haven't I, boys?"

The boys were speechless. They had to be - how could they properly respond to something like that? In any case, Teresa smirked in knowing she'd more than impressed them.

But then there was an ever so inviting knock at the classroom door, behind which was Father Anthony peeking through a sheet of glass. He seemed a little uneasy for some reason but Sister Teresa offered a smile at him that appeared to calm his nerves.

"Excuse me for a moment, boys." She pulled herself up from the chair, bringing her to her full massive height. It became clear to her that she'd grown taller too; she was looking down farther at her students than usual, tights ripped at the calves to casually let them spill out as she walked.

When the religious woman closed the door behind her, Patrick cocked his brow. He couldn't deny a sense of genuine curiosity filled him the moment his godly tutor left. Curiosity enough, admittedly, that got the better of him.

///

It was against school regulations for any student to be out in the hallways during class time. But for once, Patrick was more than willing to rebel. Of course, his mates told him to stay put, but he was too entranced by Sister Teresa to pay heed to their words.

Patrick just couldn't find her, though. What was so important that Father Anthony had to pull the babelicious woman so far away from her class? Outside the door would've been okay enough, surely?

Then he heard it. He'd watched enough related videos at home to know exactly what kind of noise it was. Strangely he was drawn to it, his legs moving closer and closer to the broom closet, the threshold of which seemed to have been chipped away at by something. The same something that ate and crushed apples not even five minutes previously. When Patrick reached the door, the moans turned to decipherable words.

"Lord, how thick are you there, Sister?"

"Are you saying you can't get it in?"

Sister Teresa's question was soon offered an answer that took her by surprise as she felt Father Anthony enter her. He could barely believe she was so thick there, but then, how could that have been a shock to him considering the rest of the youthful woman was arguably even thicker? Regardless, he felt her powerful vaginal muscles clamp down and work him, her then-celibate mound thrusting itself deeper down what he had to offer, practically swallowing his tube steak whole.

It was at that moment Patrick saw fit to barge in on the passion between the two lovers, the first thing he saw being Sister Teresa splayed over a metal-framed desk holding her legs up over her head so Father Martin could stand evenly and give himself to her with ease. The table seemed to be warping under the woman's hulkish bulk but she didn't care. Nor did she, at least negatively, when noticing Patrick sported a shameless hard-on of his own. Father Anthony might've been surprised by his student barging in unannounced, but he understood.

"I've always heard these things called 'threesomes' are better than one-to-one sex. so..." Sister Teresa pulled Patrick in by his tie, moving a foot forward to close the door behind him. After that, she went down on her knees and with a lustful moan spread her ass cheeks to reveal her waiting hole. "...demonstrate."

Patrick and Father Anthony looked at one another anxiously before gulping knowingly.

"Fifty Hail Mary's if you don't get me off" Sister Teresa concluded.

[Sicod]

You have a style and its great!

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 3: Mother Superior

The boys were confused. It wasn’t often they all had to convene in the assembly hall for a visitor, even less so when that visitor would pique their interest—or so Sister Teresa claimed, anyway. It didn’t help that there were mutterings from the boys that one from their ranks was plucked from class by the behemoth Sister and made to please her. It was safe to assume those who weren’t lucky enough to be taken were jealous. The question of who Teresa had so confidently chosen remained a mystery to all but one.

It wasn’t Mickey, though. He was busy fantasising about the possibility of him sharing a private moment with the Sister, too nervous and shy to utter even a single word to the woman who flexed her calves as stood firmly inspecting the rows of curious schoolboys. Her legs had been laid bare, the tights formerly covering them burst to shreds from her predictable spurt of growth that came right on time—like clockwork. She was particularly more commanding this time, however, scrutinising each young chap’s attire for even the slightest crease, fixing their ties and even whipped out a comb to sort their hair. Whoever this visitor was, they clearly meant something to the Sister.

Mickey just couldn’t keep his eyes off her calves; as big and powerful as they were, there was just something devilishly intoxicating about the freakish layer of veins covering them. Mickey’s relationship with his younger sister, Kaycee, proved to be difficult following the worldwide transformations of the female gender, doing everything within her newfound power to near enough dominate him. His mother only proved to act more protective and caring towards him, however. But Mickey just outright loved Sister Teresa. Sure enough, all the boys did, in their own little way.

“Heard the visitor’s supposed to be some kind of head nun or something.” Mickey’s best bud Jack locked onto Teresa’s budding chest as he sneakily offered a stick of chewing gum. Jack was one of the boys more confident around girls—a future ladies’ man—who often styled his hair in ways that would ensnare them. Today, he sought to get Sister Teresa’s attention. “Mother Superior, I think they call it.”

Mickey was too entranced by the religious woman to care what Jack had to say about—well, anything. Of course, Mickey wasn’t the only guy to feel that way, but Jack was confident enough to think he’d pull Teresa without even trying. The fact was her mind was focused on the impending arrival—

The limo pulled in slow as if to provide a more dramatic effort for the visitor's arrival. Neither of the boys had much experience with cars, but it wouldn’t take Sherlock Holmes to tell it was custom-built, frame and all. In spite of that, the car still seemed to struggle along the road, barely moving past ten miles per hour. By the time it stopped just in front of the patiently waiting Sister, the engine backfired and thick black smoke billowed from the exhaust.

“If I’m honest with you, I never was a fan of old nuns coming around to talk about religion. Still aren’t.” Jack burst his bubble of gum and chewed loudly. Mickey knew he only did that when nervous, which implied there was something to maybe—just maybe—be concerned about with the arrival of their visitor. “All old and wrinkly? No, that isn’t for me. But chicks like Sister Teresa—”

“Shut up, man. You’re gonna get us in trouble.” Mickey’s eyes moved beyond Teresa’s bloated shoulder to get a better look at the visitor. Being several rows away from the front, he wasn’t exactly going to get a good look. Not that it mattered.

When the limo’s door opened, the first thing the boys were introduced to was a gaping thigh thick as they were tall, bolstered with a calf easily the size of one’s skull, a lattice of veins so monstrous it was like they were eating away at the legs themselves. Whoever this ‘Mother Superior’ was, the boys knew just from that little hint of beef she more than deserved the title. They each followed the veins from calf to upper thigh with equal parts curiosity and anxiousness. The inquisitiveness came from wondering just how large this woman—who was yet to reveal her face from within the cozy confines of the vehicle—actually was, while their nerves were justified with what she might do if they ever got on her bad side.

“Stand straight Lucan.” Sister Teresa playfully squeezed him firmly in the arse, taking the mousy teen by surprise. She giggled in return, watching the little angel squirm in his shoes trying his utmost to maintain a sense of composure around the woman of the cloth. Although, it was admittedly hard to do given the circumstances—well, not as hard as he was at least. “There’s a good lad.”

The remaining boys ached in a similar fashion, waiting impatiently for the Mother Superior to show face, but were instead graced with what appeared to be a duo of altar boys. They dressed as such at least—pearly white albs with finely cut hair and golden crucifixes around their necks, one carrying the Bible, whilst the other oddly hauled a bag—It was almost dire for the students to wait on their guest knowing she was right there. Jack was of the mind to be rebellious, to break rank and sneak a glimpse of the Mother Superior, but it was as if he could feel Mickey’s narrowed eyes looking at him with suspicion. It didn’t help that Sister Teresa’s shoulder brushed his as she passed, casually looking down at him the way a professional porn star would.

When the altar boys came to her side, the limo shifted and buckled as the Mother Superior finally saw fit to reveal herself to the crowd of boys presented in rows upon rows like a store shelf. Left foot first, she climbed out of the limo with a grunt, her gaping shoulder caught in the tiny space. The sun shone through the trees and cast an almost divine light on the woman’s massive frame in spite of her unfortunate circumstances. Even so, she persisted, pushing her weight forth until the door came off its hinges and her body was freed.

“Boys, this is Mother Superior Maria.” Teresa’s eyes seemed to gloss over from some sense of amazement towards the woman before her, averting her gaze for just a moment before looking back in confidence, specifically at Maria’s tits—large, almost balloon-like things that could easily double as space hoppers, not to mention the equally large nipples. “She will be our guest for the day.”

Maria inspected the boys wordlessly, admittedly unimpressed by the showmanship they’d lacked in—they were short and thin in almost every way possible compared to the boys in other schools she’d visited; even they’re ‘rigid’ little cocks were almost flaccid-looking. No matter—

“I suppose there’s worse.” Her words might’ve been hard, but the tone stood in utter defiance of them, spoken in a voice unnaturally soft for a woman her age. It made the boys’ hearts flutter and their dicks curl—it even had the same desired effect on Sister Maria and the comparatively tiny altar boys who stood either side of the colossal woman with sweaty armpits.

Mickey and Jack looked at on another dubiously.

///

“Y—you want to take the boys on a trip?” Father Anthony watched Mother Superior Maria pace around dutifully, inspecting every facet of the clergyman’s office from the large Crucifix on the wall to the minuscule details on the skirting boards, arm folded behind her back, biceps pressing, bulging and pushing against the fabric of her hopelessly tight outfit. “I can’t say we—”

“It’s not just any trip, Father” Sister Teresa cut in. She had already reassured her colleague that every possible measure had been taken into consideration, so the boys’ safety during their trip to the Mother Superior’s School for Girls was paramount. Even so, a faint trickle of sweat was still noticeable at his brow, although that could easily have been attributed to the man’s excitement. “It would be one of a lifetime! It would allow the fine gentlemen the opportunity to know the girls better, and listen firsthand about how the women there feel about their new bodies the Lord saw fit to bless them with.”

The priest still wasn’t sure. He admitted it would’ve been an educational experience for the boys to learn more about the females’ evolved physical form. But what might start as a study could just as easily turn into something more…physical. Father Anthony himself knew he might very well succumb to the unearthly charms of the girls there, not to mention Sister Teresa or Mother Superior Maria.

We’ve opened up new learning brackets for the girls.” Maria was still meticulously scouting the room, but maintained a keen ear over the conversation at hand. Admittedly, she’d grown bored hearing about the man’s constant hesitance over the trip’s nature. It truly would’ve been an educational encounter for both the boys and girls—particularly the latter. “’Muscle Cult’ is our most popular, where we teach them all there is to know about bodybuilding, becoming more muscular and being all-around sexier. We’ve had around two hundred applicants this term alone.”

“Yes. All of the students there are showing remarkable potential.” Teresa watched Father Anthony fidget in his seat, no doubt at the thought of wondering just how ‘remarkable’ the young women at Mother Superior’s actually were. Truthfully, he wouldn’t ever find out sitting in his office—the Second Coming would take place sooner. Teresa continued, “There’s one in particular who’s caught my eye: Esther.”

Before the transformations occurred, Esther was already showing signs of faster physical development, brought on by a rare genetic string. When the fateful worldwide evolutions did take place she only benefited further, growing larger, stronger and taller than before—coupled with Mother Superior’s ‘Muscle Cult’ initiative, Esther soon started to lap most girls in the school. They deemed her situation unfair for the rest of them, but Maria and Teresa soothed their spirits, suggesting they could use Esther’s advantage as a means for inspiration.

“I must say she’s proven to be quite a woman. One of the many to come.” Maria turned away from the wall and faced Father Anthony head-on, her gaping tits pushing in an all-too-teasing manner against the jet black fabric of her uniform.

“What do you say, Father.” It seemed Teresa found a sense of enjoyment in joining in on her colleague’s endeavor, sat sexily on the clergyman’s desk so her sculpted legs were all his eyes could see, followed by the deliberate sensual flex of a calf big as his head. “Who knows: you might even hit it off with one of the girls when you’re there.”

Father Anthony tugged at his collar. He’d already made his mind up, of course.