III
He heard her coming and frantically thought what he could do to brace for impact but a running Suzy was going to hit him with the force of a freight train and it generally didn’t end well for those who found themselves underneath one of those. However, he had a trick up his sleeve, literally. All he needed to do was time it absolutely right. If he turned around with the syringe in his hand too soon, she would see it coming and would dodge him. If he was too late… Well, it didn’t do to dwell on that thought.
He heard her strides, massive but even. She wasn’t charging like a madwoman, who would run ever faster while closing in on her victim. No, there was a definite method in her madness, which was quite admirable when I come to think of it. Any other woman with those amounts of testosterone and who knew what other cocktail of hormones in her blood, would have gone absolutely insane. She would turn into a drooling carcass that could do nothing but consume the amount of protein such a body needed to keep itself going. But Suzy, though definitely not in her right mind, did not exactly fit the tag insane. Manic, yes, certainly, maniacal no less, but insane? Somehow she seemed in control of herself and of that staggering body of hers. No random muscle twitching or spasms, no uncoordinated gait visible even while running. This was a woman who should be all but dead, in full control of her body and mind. The amount of will-power this must take was incredible. But all those praises were little use when I came to think of poor Herbert, who was about to undergo her wrath. As a jury-member, I saw the syringe in his hand and I immediately knew it had to be some kind of antidote, something that would make her muscles shrink and hopefully her ego with it. But I also saw that Herbert’s hand, the one holding the syringe, was trembling with fear.
Suzy closed in faster than any human had ever done before. I bet she could have crossed a hundred meters within 8 seconds, despite a body that must weigh over 500 pounds. Somehow it was hard not to admire that body and I’m sure that every man in the stands had a massive erection. Her body was tantalising in its sheer other-worldliness. Nothing like that could exist in this world and so the natural reaction was that people wanted to touch it, fondle it.
The final meters were crossed and I could see that Herbert had turned around, but after that, Suzy’s gargantuan body was completely blocking him from everyone’s view. We didn’t even know if he was still alive under that throbbing mountain of muscle.
We heard Suzy grunting, but that could mean anything. Hell, she might literally be devouring him right at that moment as a fine source of protein. The thought was too disgusting to dwell upon, but still it crossed my mind.
We saw some muscle spasms, or at least that’s what they looked like, but they could also have been the hammering fists of a piledriver. They didn’t seem to abate, so we all began to lose hope that Herbert was even still alive. Every once in a while we would see a fragment of his body: a leg that stood at an impossible angle, an arm that was like a matchstick compared to Suzy’s cannonballs biceps. Most of the people had averted their gazes, unaware to witness the unfolding events, but I found myself strangely curious, one might even say excited by it all.
Yet as the fists kept hammering away, the sounds of the impact seemed to diminish. It definitely seemed as if Suzy was either getting tired because of the brutal clobbering, or she was indeed affected by the antidote that must have been in Herbert’s syringe. Either way, none of us believed that Herbert could still be alive to find out. He must have been hit all over his body hundreds of times and no one could survive even one of those punches. Those who were wearing hats (some cowboys from the deep south) took them off to pay their respects to the man who had been so important to the Miss Titan contest and Flushing Rocks in general.
Then Suzy stood up and necks were craned to see what was left of Herbert. It was indeed a bloody mess that lay there on the floor, but, incredibly, it still seemed to be moving. Suzy took the needle out of her thigh that had injected testosterone-eating bacteria, we later learned and she sighed regretfully, as if she had just woken up from a lovely dream in which all her desires had been gratified.
Then she sat down next to Herbert’s body and started to cry. Her body had now shrunken to its former dimensions, which meant she still had 48 inch biceps, a 72 inch chest and 60 inch thighs. But she was no longer the invincible monster that had threatened to destroy everything around her.
All the other twenty-three women now gathered around her and they were getting into a huge team-huddle, the one you see in a football-team when the players try to motivate their team-members. None of us could hear what was being said, as all the noise was smothered by over six-thousand pounds of muscle.
Within minutes, they seemed to reach a decision and Elizabeth Hamilton stepped forward as their spokeswoman. She looked simply divine, with a skin so healthy it was almost radiant and muscles bulging everywhere without detracting from her femininity. Most of us didn’t want to hear her talk. We wanted to see those muscles in action!
‘Ladies and especially gentlemen of the crowd and jury,’ she started. She didn’t need a microphone to make her voice carry over hundreds of yards. ‘What we have seen today is an absolute disgrace!’ Appreciative and consenting murmurs could be heard. ‘But the disgrace does not lie only, or even mostly, with Suzy.’ The murmurs grew more confused. ‘We have all heard Herbert confess to providing her with steroids and that is not an isolated incident. Wherever we go, we have to prove how big and strong we are to all the men in this village and indeed throughout the country.’
Now the women in the crowd were murmuring with significantly greater consent, whereas some of the men were wondering where this was going.
A smile appeared on Elizabeth’s face that lit it up to an even greater radiance. She knew she had the whole nation hooked behind the tv at this moment.
‘No longer will we, the women of Flushing Rocks, show off for the benefit of the men who lust after our bodies. No longer will we compete in a contest which pits us against each other, just so that a jury of men can judge us. From now on, we take control!’

Torri

From Russia