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Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  ★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] Stories~collected 2010-12
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Author Topic: ★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] Stories~collected 2010-12  (Read 109796 times)

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #15 on: April 13, 2011, 05:57:03 pm »
History lessons

“Okay, doctor, what are these things? What’s going on down here? And, most important: What the hell happened to me?”
They had found refuge in a calmer part of the complex, the concrete silence occasionally interrupted by explosions and the sound of gunfire. Clearly, the marines were still struggling with his wife. He smiled.
“I don’t have the slightest idea, but I wish to thank you for the rescue. Without your help, these creatures surely would have eaten me. Thank you.”
Calvin frowned.
“You’re lying. Tell us the truth. I don’t want to threaten you.” Michelle had retreated into the darkness. She felt ill, clearly a consequence of the drop of adrenaline. She eased herself in a seating position and added flatly:
“Tell me or I’ll feed you to your monsters. I’ve seen that they recognise you.” His mood instantly changed. Gravely, he replied:
“Alright. I’ll tell you. As I have said before, I worked on the Stachanov project. It was a derivative of our own super-soldier programme. We were asked to create a system for preparing our soldiers for modern nuclear war. They wanted a soldier who would be able to withstand the harshest conditions, which are, alas, characteristic for our homeland. He should also be able to wear a “suit of armour” of some kind to protect him from firearms and radiation while not being encumbered by it. As I have told you the programme failed dismally. As you may have guessed, the things, as you have called them, are failed test subjects. Human ones mostly. I am far from proud of my role in the proceedings and have stayed around to make sure that the information remains where it is. Clearly, I have failed now.
Also, I am very surprised at your “transformation”. Even though it is hard to predict the stability and effect of the chemical agent we created, it must have changed over the years. It seems to have “aged” well.” He snickered. “I intensely hope that it has become stable. I’d hate to see you turn into a mindless monster…”

Michelle stared at him. The weapon noises ended.
“Do you mean that you have no idea what is going on? You’ve got to tell me what’s going to happen! This is no time to play games!” She lunged forward, gripped him and lifted him up as easy as one might lift a child. She slammed him against the wall and lifted her fist, her knuckles whitening. He struggled futilely and whimpered:
“Don’t hit me. It’s no use. If I knew something, I’d tell you. Please. Let me go. Please.”
Michelle gave him a hateful stare and continued to hold him. She turned to Calvin who had fallen strangely silent. He seemed to be distraught at the sight of something in his jacket. She snapped at him:
“What’s going on with you? What are you looking at?”
“Err… Michelle, I seem to have a problem here. You see, I was quite jealous of your transformation, so I, well, took some of the jelly down there and smeared it in my jacket. And now, it somehow disappeared. In my body. So… I’m…” His voice trailed off as he collapsed.
As Michelle stepped forward to catch him, the elevator’s sad remains were blown apart. Ekaterina tore though the wreckage, tossed her head around and smashed her huge fist into Michelle’s stomach.
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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #15 on: April 13, 2011, 05:57:03 pm »

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #16 on: April 13, 2011, 05:57:21 pm »
Head to head

Michelle was lifted of her feet, glided through the air, turned elegantly and hit the wall feet first. She jumped away, rolled on the ground and got back up. For a second she hesitated, surprised at her sudden agility. Her adversary seized the opportunity, ran at her and smashed into her with her shoulder.
Meanwhile, the old man had gotten back to his feet. He rubbed his throat, trying to massage life back into it. Calvin was still lying on the floor, occasionally groaning in discomfort. Michelle rolled with the punches, trying to get some distance between her and her aggressor. The larger woman finally cornered her and started raining blows on her. Michelle ducked at first, but soon realised that she’d only get her face smashed in if she stayed down. With lightning speed, she managed to escape another volley of iron fists and clambered on her foe’s knee, stepped on the surprised woman’s chest and head before jumping in the air. She cleared the confused attacker, spun around and kicked her in the small of her back.
Blinded by fury, Ekaterina turned around, screamed at Michelle and charged her head first. The lither woman grabbed her by the shoulders and vaulted over her, forcing her to smash into a nearby wall. The decade-old structure, already weakened by the relentless assault of time, collapsed under the added weight.
Michelle stood back up, grabbed Calvin and pulled him to the room’s exit as her opponent shook off her stupefaction. She fled as fast as she could. As she ran, she could feel the adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream again. She was ecstatic. Her new body was wonderful. She darted through the now easily pierced darkness and dodged the odd piece of debris with the elegance of a ballet dancer. She ran on, at last reaching a steel door, which seemed to be an exit. She stopped and put Calvin down. As she lowered him gently to the ground, she realised that he had grown heavier. Although she would have barely been able to lift him before, she had quickly accepted the easiness with which she could carry him.
Irritated, she looked more closely. She stripped him of his shirt and gave out a surprised sound. Apparently, the formula had worked on him too. His already considerable muscularity had clearly increased, giving him a surprisingly powerful chest. She smiled. He’d got his wish after all. Now two things were in order. First, they had to escape from this place in the middle of nowhere. Second, they had to get to a doctor and hope that this whole thing wasn’t harmful. At this thought, Michelle held her breath for a second, as if uttering a little prayer.

At last, she opened the door, revealing a few ramshackle buildings in the pure white snow. The houses were low, unlike the monstrous building they had just escaped from. Clearly, some of them were broken down living quarters and depots, but one of the larger ones was easily identifiable as a garage. She picked up Calvin’s grown form and stepped out into the cold. Even though her clothes had been torn to rags and her shoes had deteriorated, she felt no cold. Running as quickly as she could, she arrived at the garage and broke open it’s door. Inside, the musty smell of dust and grime was overwhelming. Looking around, she quickly discovered a truck and a smaller off-road vehicle. Running towards it, she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Close by, attached to a pin board, several portrait photos in faded colour smiled at her. She instantly recognised Ekaterina on one of them. The man close to her was quickly identified as Anatolij. All of a sudden, it dawned to her. This must have been the Stachanov project’s main room. A side project if there ever was one. Laying the still unconscious Calvin on the car’s passenger seat, she explored the building. Minutes later, she found a dusty and broken-down laboratory in the back of a side-building.
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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #17 on: April 13, 2011, 05:57:41 pm »
Keeping track

The room’s furniture was as minimal as could be. A few derelict microscopes, some broken and dusty laboratory equipment, a yellowed calendar and a few nondescript chairs, tables and workbenches were arranged in it. The dust which covered everything clearly showed that this room had been untouched for decades. Michelle leafed through the notes, struggling with the Cyrillic characters. After a while, she recognised the “Stachanov”-folders, wrapped them into a dusty laboratory coat and returned to the car. She opened the door and realised that Calvin was slowly awakening.
She climbed in, sat down beside him and hugged him. Suddenly all the stress fell from her. She was in a state of calm, almost blissfully aware that she was still alive. Seconds later she started to cry, all the emotions finally precipitating into sobbing outbursts. Calvin moaned louder, took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked. Finally, he embraced her. After a while, he asked:
“Are we safe?”
“For now. We’ll have to get away soon, but right now, we’re not in danger. They lost us. I just wanted to wait until you woke up. You’ve gotten heavier, so I preferred you to carry your own weight.” She smiled at him as he looked down on himself. His eyes widened.
“We did it. We did it!” The second time, he almost screamed with elation. “We’re superheroes!” He laughed, only calming down when he noticed her serious expression.
“We did it, that’s right. But you have to see that we’ve been subjected to completely unknown chemicals, and I must say that I’m quite happy that we didn’t turn into one of the Frankenstein monsters down there.”
“Whatever. Do we still have a sample of the chemicals? Yes? Well, that’s perfect. We just get back home and get them analysed. I’m pretty sure that your Auntie knows a couple of discrete analytical chemists who can take a look at it!”
“Ah yes, my “Auntie”, as you call her will probably want to have a say on the whole affair. As far as I can see, you’re not interested in me publishing this story, and neither do I. So I guess that we’ll have to give her something in return. Just because she’s my mother’s kid sister doesn’t mean that she’s all that fond of me. Still, we’ll see what happens when we’re there. First of all, we’ll have to get out of here.”

Michelle started the car. Of course, it did nothing. She tried it again, but the battery was clearly flat. She screamed and cursed. Calvin stepped out, opened the hood with perfect ease and shook his head. His partner howled:
“Don’t go mechanic on me! Do something!”
“I don’t know what to do. If this base has been abandoned for thirty years, all the batteries they might have had in store must be broken. I can’t do anything and I’m happy that those muscle-powered flashlights still work.”
“I’ll look outside.” She suddenly remembered the gunfire. There must have been someone else in the complex. Besides, where did she leave Anatolij? She slowly realised that he must have remained somewhere in the base. She had completely forgotten about him.
She walked over to the steel sliding door, grabbed it and pushed it aside with perfect ease. The half-ton door which originally had been electrically powered slid back, revealing a blasted, frozen landscape. In the background, the dark forest loomed.
She realised that it was cold but maintained a distant relation to the fact. Indeed, her tattered clothes barely covered her, but she seemed calmly at ease. She stepped out, the crushed snow welling up between her toes. She looked down at her monstrous legs and wondered. She slowly closed the door, adding “I’ll be right back.” and looked around. Nothing. She smiled mischievously and ran. Her freezing breath left a trail of mist for fragments of seconds. She sprinted relentlessly towards the horizon, smiling in complete elation. At last, she jumped, throwing herself into the air. She left the ground, taking the air for a few seconds, covering a more than Olympic distance. Landing, she rolled, getting back up laughing. She tore the sorry remains of her clothes from her, merely leaving her underwear. Her tank-top barely covered her midriff, displaying her fist-sized abs. Taking a few steps, she suddenly saw the waiting helicopters.
Interestingly enough, the marines guarding them had not seen her until this second. The resulting pause lasted about as long as that.
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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #18 on: April 14, 2011, 02:40:56 pm »
Getaway?

Michelle stood and stared, as if paralysed. The marines instinctively readied their rifles, aiming at her. One of them shouted:
“Hold it right here! Put your hands where I can see them! Don’t move!”
“Who are you?”
The second marine stared at the apparition. Clearly, the sergeant could see her too, so she must be real. Even though it was very odd, it was also rather charming to see such a fine girl in her white underwear in the middle of Russia. He smiled.
“Sarge, I don’t know about you, but I think that she’s quite the babe.”
“Shut up, private. Russia ain’t the place for stupid jokes!”

Michelle complied. She put up her hands, still surprised at the sound of familiar language and answered:
“My name’s Michelle Wang, I’m from Ithaca, NY. I work for the GIC.”
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you alone?”
“I came here to research a story. Our car broke down. Can you get us back to civilisation? There’s a friend of mine back there. He’s American too.”
At this moment, Lemontow climbed out of the helicopter. He had observed his former visitor for a few minutes and had finally decided that whatever she had found was definitely worthwhile. He walked over to the sergeant.
“Sergeant, I know these people. What they say is true. Let’s call the captain and get out of here.”
The sergeant turned around. He looked down on the pale Russian. At last, he spoke with great care:
“Dear civilian. Even though I am unaware how you came to believe that you were calling the shots around here, I suggest that you SHUT THE FUCK UP! Thank you. Now, back to the girl in her underwear…”
He was interrupted again. This time, a screaming, half-naked man came running, barely evading a falling truck.
“Holy shit! Shoot! Shoot!” The marines opened fire, but surprisingly, both the man and the woman dropped to the ground fractions of seconds before the bullets actually left the barrel. Michelle and Calvin instinctively laid down, wondering what they were doing. Shouting above the gunfire, Calvin desperately tried to tell his partner that Ekaterina was coming, just as the titanic woman raced around the corner, carrying the steel door with her. Her gigantic muscles were pumping, her shoulders were swaying at full speed. As the bullets approached, she swung the door in front of herself, using it as a shield.
Lemontow panicked, jumped into the helicopter and shouted:
“Let’s go, we don’t have time. We must get away now!”
The sergeant, realising the futility of the small-arm gunfire, made a quick sign to the pilot, who swivelled the aircraft’s machine gun at the fast-approaching assailant. Just as he locked her, she jumped up, throwing the door like a discus. While the rotating gun-barrels were gathering speed, the door smashed into the automatic cupola.
Michelle and Calvin got back up. She gave him a hard look and shouted:
“Okay, marines, start your machines, we’ll try to buy you some time.” With that, she started to run at Ekaterina, who had just landed.
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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #19 on: April 14, 2011, 02:41:13 pm »
Open warfare

As the hulking woman turned around to face her assailant, Michelle threw her fist at her. Whether she was still reluctant to hurt another human willingly or whether she was just unlucky, she merely managed a glancing blow. Ekaterina rolled her shoulders, stretched her neck, and grabbed the lither woman’s arm. She grinned evilly and pulled. With an awful sound, Michelle’s arm jumped out of it’s socket. She howled in pain, but the muscular monstrosity in front of her unleashed a volley of punches at her without flinching.
She fell into the snow, the whiteness starting to dance as the helicopter’s rotors started to turn. Michelle desperately tried to concentrate, her body numbed by pain. Just as Ekaterina’s yard-wide shoulders began to eclipse the sun, the enormous woman collapsed. Clearly, Calvin had jumped at her, kicking her into the back of the head. He stumbled over to Michelle, helped her up and was instantly thrown to the ground as Ekaterina grabbed his leg and whirled him around as a throwing hammer. He screamed as he cycled faster and faster, his pitch heightening as he realised that she was going to throw him into the chopper’s rotor.
Analysing the situation in split-seconds, Michelle quickly scooped up some snow, shaped a ball from it and hurled it at Ekaterina. The sadistic beast was clearly more surprised than hurt, but still let go of her victim, projecting the helpless young man into a nearby snowdrift.

Michelle darted forward, evading the other woman’s lounging attack and rolled, her arm dangling at an odd angle from her shoulder. Her pain strangely numbed to a mere “information” that something was wrong. She could sense the exact location and pinpoint it’s most painful area. Ekaterina turned around, but was swept back to the ground as the helicopters started taking off. Indeed, the second team had returned from the base’s exploration and had climbed back into their machine. Michelle stood up, her hair billowing in the draft. She ran towards the first machine, closely followed by her antagonist. Just as Ekaterina was about to grab her, the second helicopter loosened a hail of bullets at the broad-shouldered assailant.
She dived for cover, rolling sideways and dodging as good as she could. With a final summersault, she managed to throw herself behind one of the ruined concrete walls that encircled the front of the complex. The deadly projectiles ricocheted off her shelter, but she kept her cool. At last, the chopper had gained enough attitude to stop firing. The hulking woman got up, brushing off the snow and gravel from her clothes. She cleared the remaining pieces of concrete from her hair, calmed down, then proceeded to return to her partner. She’d have to get a trip to America as soon as possible. No one except her would profit from their research.

“Whoa, lady, you put up quite a fight!” The sergeant was apparently quite impressed. “You workin’ out?” Michelle was just catching her breath as the machines soared into the greyish sky. The team’s medic clambered over to her and gave her a good look. Instantly, she asked:
“Your arm has been dislocated. Can I put it right?” Michelle gave the short-haired woman a nod, turned away and winced as she proceeded to go chiropractic on her. Soon the pain subsided.
The sergeant had called the captain, who was on the other helicopter, by radio and reluctantly passed the headset over to Lemontow who was still sitting there, amazed. After a few words, he returned the headset and said:
“We’re heading home. I guess that the operation was successful. You“, he looked at Michelle and Calvin, ”have found what you were looking for. I must say that I am surprised. At the same time, our military friends have managed to stay alive and mostly unhurt. Would you allow me to bring you back to the United States with my own airplane? I guess that you are more than willing to leave this ghastly place as soon as possible.”
Calvin nodded. Michelle, who was still flexing and unflexing her recovering arm, mumbled approval.
One hour later, they were safe and sound in Lemontow’s private business jet.
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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #20 on: April 14, 2011, 02:41:33 pm »
The long way home

When the machine reached it’s cruising altitude, Michelle removed the belt on the passenger seat and examined the plane’s luxurious interior. There was a sofa, a conference table, a kitchenette and a folding bunk. Everything was cramped but clearly well-made. Seconds later, the attendant came in. She was a petite blonde, with a perky nose, a perpetual smile and an adorable Russian accent. As she came in to ask whether she could help, she stopped in mid-motion. Clearly, she was surprised.
Michelle was wearing some of Calvin’s clothes, and she was filling them out perfectly. Her broad shoulders stretched the t-shirt a bit, giving the “Calvin and Hobbes” cartoon a slightly distorted look. Also, Calvin’s cargo pants were stretched to the max, her enormous thighs filling the trouser legs to the brim. Next to her, Calvin was just getting up. His muscles had grown to match and had given him the traditional superhero physique. Oddly enough he had to get into the plane by stepping sideways. He had squeezed into the biggest clothes Lemontow could buy in town. Since he couldn’t try them on in the shop, he was still forced to refrain from sudden movements for fear of destroying his shirt.

The attendant hesitated for a second, then asked:
“Would you like a drink?”
Calvin looked at her, smiled, and replied:
“A glass of beer would be great. What about you?” He turned to Michelle.
“Mineral water please. Where’s Lemontow?”
The woman busied herself with the drinks and replied:
“Mr. Lemontow is in the cockpit, planning the route. We’ll have a stop in Japan to refuel. He also said that I should take your measurements so that we can order some clothes there.”
She served the drinks, then waited. Michelle took a sip and said:
“Well, Lemontow is certainly courteous and well-organised. If you don’t mind, I’ll go first.” The woman produced a measuring tape and replied:
“Very well. Let’s get in the back. I guess you’ll like some privacy.” Calvin gave her a longing look, implying that he’d seen most there was to see, but the attendant was adamant.

The rear part of the passenger cabin was equipped with a more comfortable bed as well as a folding curtain to shield it from view. Michelle sat down. The woman, who revealed her name to be Milena, pulled the curtain hedging out the other passengers. Michelle stripped down to her panties. The other woman stared. The young woman’s torso was entirely bereft of breasts. Instead, her large pectoral muscles gave her a clean-cut, perfectly muscular cleavage.
“Wow, you’re huge!” Michelle blushed. “Let me get your measurements!” With astounding quickness, the attendant began checking the muscular woman’s dimensions. She struggled a little to wrap the tape around her chest, but finally exclaimed: “45 inches, waist is, um,… 27 inches and hips are 42 inches. Wow.”
Michelle gaped. Compared to her old 32-25-33 look, she seemed to have turned into a different person.
“I think you’ll have to measure my thighs, my arms and my neck too, because I don’t think I’ll get something off the rack from now on.”
Dutifully, the other woman bent down and measured her thighs: “27 inches. That’s insane: they are as big as your waist! As for the arms: 18 inches! 18 inches! What happened to you?”
“It’s hard to explain. Can you please do the neck so that I can get back to my seat. I don’t want to sound harsh, but I’m really tired.” (And I don’t want to be reminded permanently that I look like a freak, she added to herself.)
Milena nodded, discovered that her guests neck was a good 17 inches around and jotted it down. She felt a little awkward and was quite happy when her first “test subject” was back out. Indeed, Calvin’s enormous body seemed to fascinate her and she felt strangely allured by his massive back.
Meanwhile, Michelle laid down and instantly fell asleep, only occasionally waking for a few brief moments and wondering where the others had gone to.
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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #21 on: April 14, 2011, 02:41:51 pm »
The instances of returning

When the plane finally landed in New York after a further stop in Los Angeles, Michelle smiled. At last, she was home. The whole awful adventure was slowly fading. She’d go home, get her cat from her neighbour, type her report and get it published. She’d try her best not to think about her changed body, about Calvin’s heroic ambitions and the fact that he’d spent most of the flight fucking the attendant. As she clambered out of the plane, a limousine drew up, the chauffeur held the door open for her to get in, and Lemontow, who had curiously spent the whole flight on the phone, ushered her in.
She resisted his gentle persuasion easily, turned around and said:
“I’d rather take a taxi now. I’m tired and my cat’s still at my neighbour’s so please, go without me.”
Lemontow looked crestfallen:
“I would love to bring you there. I actually have business with your aunt, and since you live close by, I might drop you off.” Michelle wondered: how did he know were she lived? He must have checked on her ID while she was asleep.
“I’d prefer the taxi all the same. Now, if you don’t mind…” She easily picked up her luggage with one hand, gave Calvin a harsh look as he walked down the stairs and left. Calvin gave Lemontow a wondering look.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Can I drop you off somewhere?” Calvin nodded and clambered into the car.

Michelle still felt awful: She was unsure whether the chemicals she had been subjected to were dangerous or not, her body had been transformed into something entirely unlike herself and nobody cared. As she passed the customs office, the agent on duty gave her a strange look, but found nothing except for the documents written in Russian. Showing her her press card, she explained that those were historic documents she had bought in Russia for an article. The woman was interested at first, but since the material was hardly recent and inconspicuous, she nodded and sent her away.
As the muscular woman left the airport, she got herself a cab and rode off. The cabby was impressed to say the least. He was a short, dark-skinned man with curled hair who spoke English with a bizarre Arab-British accent.
“Well Ms., are you into sports? You sure look the type! It’s not weight-lifting, but let me guess…” She tried to ignore him, but the guy had clearly bitten the hook. He leaned out of the window, added a short “Oy, get off the road you bloody little bugger!”, then quickly returned to his guessing.
“Are you a shot-put specialist? A boxer? Like Layla Ali? You don’t look like a bodybuilder, they’re usually skinnier.” He ranted on, enumerating endless possibilities, even circus strongwomen. Michelle was slowly becoming angry. In a desperate effort to make him shut up, she just nodded once at random, which turned out to be a big mistake.
“So you’re a wrestler! That’s great! Do you fight private matches too?” Michelle felt as if she had been strangely teleported into the awful “nudge, nudge”-sketch by Monty Python which Calvin quoted wherever possible.

At last, she got home. She slammed the taxi cab’s door far too strongly, causing the window to crack and sending the driver into a surprising quiver of lust. She got inside and caught herself trying to sneak by the security guard. Of course, Orville Johnson got out of the restroom just as she was calling the elevator. He looked at her, failed to recognise her and shouted:
“Stop! Don’t move! You ain’t gettin’ in here, kiddo!” He fumbled for his nightstick. Michelle tried to calm him:
“Mr. Johnson, it’s me, Michelle Wang from number 24. I only wanted to get home quickly.” She waited for a few seconds as the information visibly sunk into the older man’s brain.
“You don’t look like her, buddy. Come closer slowly, so I can take a look at your face.” Michelle tried to get her driver’s license out, but he instantly threatened her with his club, so she put her hands up. At last, the microscopic kindling of recognition lit in Mr. Johnson’s brain.
“Well. You are Ms. Wang. That’s a surprise. What happened to you? You’ve been working out? Cos’ I do, you know.” He flexed his arms and bit his moustache.
“It’s a long story. For now, I just want to go to my apartment, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She got into the elevator, rode up to her level and unlocked her door. As she opened, there was an odd noise inside. Somebody giggled and there was a crash.
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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #22 on: April 14, 2011, 02:42:11 pm »
House-warming

Michelle walked in. Instantly, her neighbour appeared, wrapped in Michelle’s bedspread, naked, blonde and very freckled. Her “cute as a button” nose quivered with laughter, then suddenly froze.
“WHO ARE YOU?”, she screamed. “Get out of here! Awful kidnapper monster bodybuilder bitch creature!” She then proceeded to let out the most horrible, high-pitched, window-pane shattering scream Michelle had ever heard. Instantly, her ears went numb, oddly unplugging themselves moments later. She gave Nicole a very tired look, pointed to her face and said:
“It’s me.”, then walked past her and went into her bedroom. There, she easily dislodged the scrawny, black haired rock star-type guy in her bed, pulling the surprised youth up by his desperately flailing arm, and dropped her luggage. It wasn’t actually heavy, she was merely getting tired of this.
Nicole came in a second later, looked at her, blinked and shouted: “OH MY GOD!” before jumping at her. Michelle fell over, dropped on the bed and tried to get her off. Instead, the young woman hugged her and proceeded to tell her at great length why she was there, fucking her boyfriend in Michelle’s apartment. Apparently, somebody had broken into her own the day before yesterday, and since the police were way too occupied, they had just shut her out, promising to return later to complete the investigations.
As she found herself in a state of substantial turmoil, her only and logical reaction was to move in with Michelle and bring her boyfriend to calm her and to protect her should the criminals return.
Michelle nodded, smiled weakly and sent her to the kitchen.
“Please, have whatever you want but let me sleep for a few hours. I’ll explain everything later.” Stripping out of her clothes she weekly put on the new tailor-made silk pyjama and went to sleep. As she slowly drifted into unconsciousness, she could hear further giggling from the kitchen. Nicole was not a bad sort, she was just a little overenthusiastic. Just as she was falling asleep, desperate to catch up with the missing hours of rest, her phone rang. It beeped and rattled and hummed before finally falling off her bedside table. Michelle grabbed for it, but since the phone was already under her bed, she pointlessly slid her hand over the table’s surface.
However, she was now fully awake. It was odd: seconds ago she felt like she could sleep for days, but now she was perfectly alert. She rolled of the mattress, dropped to the ground and reached below the bed. The phone’s vibration function was clearly set to the max since the awful device moved along slowly. She grabbed it and answered it. It was her aunt.
“Hi, Michelle. How are you?” The response was rather mumbled:
“I’m fine, thank you, I was just trying to g…” She was interrupted.
“Well, Calvin and Danijel are with me right now, and we have a project that might interest you. Would you mind coming over to the office? I’ve sent you my limo. It’ll be there in a moment!”
Although she was far from happy, Michelle quickly agreed. She put on her new business suit, a very chic charcoal piece. Perfect Japanese styling. She got her briefcase, put all the documents on her “expedition” in it and got out of her apartment as she heard that Nicole and what’s-his-name were getting it on again.
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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #23 on: April 14, 2011, 02:42:43 pm »
Business proposal

Outside, the black Volvo was waiting for her. The chauffeur held the car’s door open for her, she climbed in, and off they went. Minutes later, she arrived at the corporation’s headquarters. A quick trip in the elevator (happily, none of her colleagues were in it) and she stepped out on the executive suite. A brisk walk past the secretary pool and she knocked at the office door.
“Come in.”
Michelle entered her aunt’s realm. Ann Baker, mistress and CEO of the mighty Global Information Corporation, was sitting in her enormously comfortable black patent leather chair, and was clearly enjoying herself. Her perfect, steel-grey hair was cut into a bob, her tight, ageless body dressed in the most stylish casual wear money could buy and fame could afford. With the help of modern medicine and surgery, her face and body had taken the middle road of looking experienced without looking tired. She smiled and showed Michelle one of the chairs. She walked over and sat down. The other visitors were Calvin, who was reclining in his leather chair, his enormous muscles filling his Kanji-decorated shirt to the brim and Lemontow, who was having a drink. They clearly were having a great time.
“Do you want a drink?”, Ann asked. Michelle nodded.
“So, what are you up to?”
“Danijel and Calvin have already told me what happened. I already sent a sample of the chemicals you got into contact with to a friend’s lab. He’ll check it to see whether it’s dangerous. On the other hand, it looks well on your behalf. Great muscles!”
Michelle nodded absentmindedly.
“These will be perfect for a new concept we’ve been working on!” Calvin smiled encouragingly. “I give you: “Secrets”. A reality-TV show about real-life superheroes, their daily troubles and their love-life. And you’ll be the stars! Danijel will be financing part of the project and will also help with development. I hear he knows some pretty able villains, don’t you?” She smiled at Lemontow. He nodded.
“So, Michelle, are you with us?”
Michelle was surprised to say the least. A TV show of all things! On the other hand, why not?
“Let’s imagine for a moment I’d say yes... What about my identity? Will I get a secret costume? And how will you protect my “civilian” identity? I don’t want people to go Mary Jane over my friends!”

“As a matter of fact, I had our design and development team run over the hard facts of the whole thing: they can provide you with a full costume that should protect you from identification. We’ll check the details later. As for the out-of-costume scenes, we’ll cover your face a little, so you’ll be safe there too. I guess that it will come out sooner or later, but we’ll cancel the show before that…” Michelle thought she’d heard a slight mumble after this, but it seemed alright. If the chemicals turned out to be harmless, it would be just as fine to have a job that would give her some return for being a freak.
“I’m on. What’s next?”
“First of all, our creative people will get together to plan the show correctly. Although we want you to do some serious crime-fighting, we still want it to look good on the telly, so there’s work to do. Second, you’ll have to prepare for your role. Even though Calvin tells me that both your power and reflexes have become incredibly good, you’ll need some training. We’ll provide you with a coach for combat and one for acting. A crash course should suffice. Last, we’ll have to get the PR people to cook up some rumours about it. Get it on the net and so on… I guess that should be all. If you have any ideas, let me know.”
Michelle nodded. She’d be a hero. Great. Calvin got up and said:
“Well, can I invite you for dinner? I’m cooking tonight, so if you don’t mind, come over. I’d be glad!”
She smiled at him. He’d got what he wanted. She could feel his happiness radiate around him. Let’s see how long it would last.
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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Investigative Journalism
« Reply #24 on: April 14, 2011, 02:46:52 pm »
Okay, this is all for now. I'm unsure whether I will continue it, however, I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. It is, of course, a prequel of sorts and there are several ways to address the situation:

- First, it could be developed as an episodic story of the "monster of the week" variety.
- Second, it could be set up as a coherent story, but it would need a central theme to it. (Which I am currently failing to find.)

Of course, other options are just as welcome. Does anybody have an idea what would be sensible to do with this setup? Ideas and feedback are always appreciated!
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Rivals [El_Roy_1999]
« Reply #25 on: June 14, 2011, 01:18:48 pm »
Here's a little something I came up with on my free time. I hope you enjoy it.  Please give comments, feedback and karma.

Rivals
by El_Roy_1999

"We shouldn't have come here. What do we do if he comes back?"
Danielle looked around fearfully. Breaking into Leon's house was insane. What if he came home right now? They'd be embarassed forever.
"Keep cool. We'll just take a look at his stuff and we're gone."
As always, Alexia was the courageous one. Still, she was afraid herself. She just was better at not showing it than her hesitant partner. The two girls started looking around the room, looking for evidence of Leon's taste in women. After all, they had been hitting on him quite intensely for some time now, but he hadn't made up his mind. Being adults now, they felt a little childish, but Leon was a really good-looking guy. He had these broad shoulders, the smile, the jet-black hair. Even when he was all scruffy and freshly awoken, he looked awesome. He was funny too. Getting him would be a real triumph.
The two girls had been rivals for years now. Coming from wealthy families, they never had any trouble to get what they wanted. However, realising that the other one was always there to be a competitor made everything more difficult. As a result, hooking up with Leon was the challenge at hand.
They had both tried to impress him, using their best assets. Danielle was a little shorter than her rival, a little on the chunky side, but with big breasts and a certain shyness most men found attractive. Her long straight blonde hair framed her beautiful face and her blue eyes shone brightly. When she had dressed up for him, he didn't ignore her, not at all, but he didn't seem interested either. They had known him since high school, they were pretty sure he wasn't gay, but still, they had no idea what he liked.
Meanwhile, Alexia had booted up his computer. She was quite tall, her full behind and wide hips a perfect magnet for boys of all ages. She usually wore tight pants and wide tops, camouflaging her slight flab as good as she could. Unlike her blonde foe, she was a brunette, her wavy hair making her cheeky look even more insolent. When dancing at the club, she would grind her butt against her target and instantly win him over. Too bad Leon wouldn't react to her.

Checking his website history and his hard drive, they finally struck gold: muscle girls. Not full bodybuilders, more like figure. They looked at each other in disgust. Why? Why couldn't the good-looking guy be gay? Why couldn't he be in a relationship? Those things could be handled. This on the other hand was bad.
Danielle said:
"Well, that's that then. Let's look for another guy."
Alexia replied:
"Sure, do that. I see you're a quitter. Guess who's going to get him."
"You wouldn't dare."
"I don't have to. You're giving up, fine by me."
"I'm so going to get him! You're gonna wish you had given up right now!"
Alexia smiled disdainfully:
"Like hell. You've got no chance."
Below, somebody was at the door. Running as fast as they could, the girls escaped from the house. When Leon got to his living room, he found the computer still turned on. He wondered a little about this, but then just sat down and checked his mail.
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Re: Rivals
« Reply #26 on: June 14, 2011, 01:19:00 pm »
The next day, Danielle went to the gym early. She didn't have anything else to do since her parents' money was flowing freely so she could just go there and spend her morning talking to Jeff, her personal trainer. Occasionally, she'd do a bit of cardio, but she mostly enjoyed his company. Today was different.
"Jeffrey, I need to build some muscle."
He was sceptical.
"Why the change of mind?"
"I just set myself a new goal: There's this guy and he likes girls with muscle. I want to be with him."
"I can't say that's a good idea. Being fit is good, but training to impress a man is pointless."
"Okay, that bitch Alexia also wants him and she challenged me, so I gotta show her that I'm better."
"That's even worse."
"I don't care. I want to beat her and I want to beat her hard."
"I warned you. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I already told you. Do your thing!"

Meanwhile, Alexia went to see her mother's coach. This woman looked quite the way Leon liked girls to look. She was not merely toned, but quite built. As Alexia came in, she said:
"Hi Alexia. What can I do for you? Want to do some cardio?"
"No. Erin, I want my body to be like yours."
"Okay. You are aware that this took me some time?"
"Probably. I'm ready. Let's start!"
"Some time is a few years."
"Bet you I'll be able to do it in less time."
"Sure."
"I'll show you. Let's get started."
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Re: Rivals
« Reply #27 on: June 14, 2011, 01:19:18 pm »
A couple of weeks later, the two competitors met at a party. It was summer and Wayne, a common acquaintance had called for a pool party. Alexia arrived first. She wore a blouse and some tight capri pants her shapely ass bouncing with every step. She kissed Wayne on the cheeks, greeted everyone, and walked up to Leon, who was just enjoying the conversation with two of his friends.
"Hi, Leon. Hello boys. Nice meeting you all here."
Leon nodded and replied:
"Hi Alexia. You look good."
"Sure."
With these words, she opened the blouse, revealing a bikini top and some well-toned abs. Her breasts weren't all that large, but for Leon, they didn't have to. Instead, his eyes glinted when he saw the tanned bumps on her stomach.
"Wow. You've been working out."
"Yes. Do you like them?"
"Oh... Of course."
"Thought so. Guys, do you mind if I borrow him for a while? I need a gentleman to get me a drink."
One of the guys stammered:
"I can..."
But before he could finish, Alexia had taken her prey with her, leading him to the bar. Leon asked:
"What can I get you?"
"A mojito would be fine."
He turned to the bartender and asked for two mojitos when his eyes trailed off.
Danielle had taken the stage. She wore a navy blue bikini that showed off her muscular curves. Gone was her slight layer of fat, replaced by some tight muscles. She too had visible abs, but they were complimented by some strong, rounded shoulders and a strong thighs. She smiled at everyone and, having maintained her large breasts, was smiled back at. She stepped over to the bar, took the mojito Alexia was about to get and said:
"Why, thank you. Just my taste. Alexia, my dear, you seem to lack motivation lately."
With these words, she just stretched her arm and flexed her biceps for a second. Leon's eyes went wide. She turned around, clinked her glass against his and said:
"I hear there's a jacuzzi around here somewhere. Let's leave the small fry here and enjoy it."
Leon was still wondering what was going on but decided to just let it happen.

The next morning, Alexia went to see Erin and said:
"I can't believe this. How did she do it?"
"Who did what?"
"The girl I'm competing with, Danielle. She's much bigger than me even though she's just small fry. She took Leon."
"That's bad, I guess."
"Of course. I need to be bigger than her. That's your job. I want to have bigger muscles than her. And I want them soon."
"It really depends on you, mostly."
"Okay, then show me how!"
Over the next days, she increased her training schedule tremendously, adjusted her nutrition and all around became much more disciplined.

Meanwhile, Danielle was in heaven. She had beaten her competitor, she had managed to seduce Leon and it was totally worth it. They spent the next weeks in bed (well, almost). Sex with him was gorgeous. He was very relaxed but passionate, occasionally surprising her with little presents or just calling her and making her feel hot. He was enraptured with her body, spending his time tracing the lines of her muscles, kneeding her tight ass and licking her gently.
However, after a while, Danielle realised that he returned to his computer, looking at images of even more muscular women. She decided not to attack him on this, after all it might put her relationship in jeopardy. Instead, she decided to keep her distance and told him she had scheduled a longer trip beforehand. She told him to wait for her to return and left, keeping in touch with him online.
As soon as she was away, she called Jeffrey:
"Jeff, I need your help."
"What's up?"
"Leon likes what he sees, but he wants bigger. I need to get bigger. Now."
"You shouldn't..."
"Don't tell me what I should. Do what I say."
He seemed angry:
"Hey, keep calm. No point in being aggressive."
"Sorry. It's just that I want this man and I want to keep him. Do you want to be the one who took my happiness from me?"
"Calm down. It's fine. I'll help you."
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Re: Rivals
« Reply #28 on: June 14, 2011, 01:19:33 pm »
Over the next weeks, the two women subjected themselves to grueling training and eating regimes. Would their efforts pay off?

When the summer was reaching its end, Karen, a common friend invited everybody to her house-warming party. Expecting a child soon, she had decided to move out of her old one-piece flat to her new house in the suburbs, complete with a small garden and plenty of room for any kids to come.
Danielle had told Leon that she would go to the party directly, so he had shown up quite early. He was starving for her, hoping for her to turn up. After all, he liked her sassiness and her crazy sex antics. Also, the fact that she had those beautiful muscles turned him on to no end.
When he came there, he gave Karen the flowers he had bought and got the grand tour. Karen's husband, Paul, showed him around and got him a glass of champagne for the occasion. Just as they were done with the first floor, there was a commotion below. They looked down the flight of stairs and saw that Danielle had arrived. She wore a tight blue minidress that would have looked cheap on most girls but instead showed off her muscular legs and tight little bottom. The dress also featured generous cleavage which showed off her still large breasts. They had deflated a little, but it was clear that her overall size had increased. Her shoulders were now quite large and round, her biceps had become more than tennis ball-sized and her forearms were just as powerful. Her long blonde hair fell down elegantly, showcasing her traps. She looked up at Leon and said:
"Come here. I've got something to show you."
Paul was amazed how fast his friend was downstairs. To cut things short, Danielle led Leon to the bathroom and locked it. Standing in front of him, she started swaying her hips and slowly pulled down her dress, revealing her bra-less breasts and swollen nipples. She could hear him choke. She pulled it further down, showing her tight abs and finally dropped the dress, preparing to get him out of his clothes. Just as she was tearing up his fly with a grab of her strong hands, they both heard a chaos of voices drifting up.
She tried to continue, but the spell was broken. There were shouts of alarm. They stepped over to the door and opened it, Danielle slipping back into her dress.
They looked out and saw Alexia, carrying in a huge thing. She wore a tight red t-shirt and some daisy dukes. The massive object turned out to be a large leather sofa. Alexia explained it as she put it down in the soon to be living room:
"I saw it on your furniture list and thought, whatever, I'll just buy it and bring it over."
Karen asked:
"But how did you carry it... It looks awfully heavy."
"Not for me."
Alexia smiled and did a double biceps flex, showing her baseball-sized mounds. She asked:
"Has anybody seen Leon?"

As could be expected, Alexia ended up in bed with Leon. All the hard training had paid off. Her body was perfectly at home in the figure division and she really enjoying climbing on top of him and get him off with her inner muscles alone. Her body wasn't dry at all. She was perfectly at ease with the off-season style, her small breasts still recognisable on top of her pecs. After sex, Leon asked her:
"What is it with you girls and muscle? You picked this up a couple of months ago. It's not that I'm complaining, but this was really surprising."
"Don't worry. At first I was sceptical, but now, I'm really enjoying them. Besides, I'm going to get even bigger. Just watch me."
His dick was instantly hard again.
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Re: Rivals
« Reply #29 on: June 14, 2011, 01:19:46 pm »
Over the next months, Alexia continuously increased her workouts. She trained everyday, soon surpassing Erin in terms of muscle size. She pretty soon arrived close to the lightweight bodybuilder level. She filmed her workouts and the subsequent masturbation sessions and sent them to Leon for him to enjoy and get into the mood. Leon was in the mood alright. They spent most of their free time fucking like rabbits.

Danielle, however, was horribly disappointed. She called Jeffrey and said:
"Jeffrey, I need all the help I can get. This bitch Alexia has bigger muscles than me and has taken Leon. Get me bigger, please."
She cried on the telephone until Jeffrey showed up at her home and tried to calm her. However, she wouldn't hear his consolation attempts and his half-hearted compliments. She told him:
"Get me bigger or leave me. I can get any other coach in a minute."
"What you are asking for is pointless. I can train you slowly and safely and you will be bigger, but it takes time and I don't think there's a point to it. After all, this guy is entirely controlled by his dick."
"I don't care about the guy. I want to show that bitch Alexia that I'm better."
"I'm sorry, but I can't help you with this. It's stupid."
"Fine. Then leave me. I'll find some other guy who has what it takes and who can give me what I need. If something goes wrong, you'll be to blame. After all, you gave up on me."
"What...?"
"Sure. You know how to get big. If you're withholding this, it's your fault."
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