+Notable Author: [NinjaStar] Stories~collected

[M7]

"cock-juggling Thunder-Cunt" lol!! 

Anyway, nice continuation. I like how the story is unfolding. Great work as usual Ninja.

The line is cribbed from 'Blade Trinity'. It IS a good line, though.

Ah, I see. K+  I didn't see that movie.

This is not only enjoyable to read, but I think it serves as a good example of how to write with emotion.  Not many people try to do it, and I suspect most (like me) aren't that happy with their own results. 

Amber is presented with tremendous conflict (rejection/deception/betrayal/need for validation/need to move on etc.), and probably plenty more later if my suspicions about PumpLabs prove true.  This conflict has turned her character alive.  In processing her breakup and new resolution, she is forced to be honest, inward looking, even ruthless.  This means NinjaStar was doing the same.  He had to see the world from her perspective, think the way she thinks (which may be different from the way he thinks), feel what she feels.  Unless a writer does this first, there is no chance that any of his/her readers can do the same.  The whole process indeed helps set up the conflicts.

Very well done.  Hope you can stay motivated to keep at this. 

Agreed with JerusalemTulip. K+  Also very well put sir.

[NinjaStar]

A/N: Thanks for the response and sorry for the long delay since last time. Yes, I am a shameless thief with movie lines. I promise that I'll get the ball rolling a in a bit, but for now, here's more boring exposition.

Nearly a year later.

Amber reflection stared back at her through the full-length mirror she bought and set up in her bedroom. She stood in a black sports bra and thong, eyeing her body for the millionth time, taking note of her changing physique. She couldn’t help but beam as she angled her phone to take a new selfie for her InstaPix followers. Using the front camera so she eyeball the shot with her screen, she snapped a pic of her burgeoning pectoral cleavage as she pulled the front of her tank-top down some. Her chest was really filling out, she thought with a spreading smile. When she started, she was merely flat-chested, with only a hint of muscle. She still had a way to go yet before she could truly declare her small slabs of chest muscle as true pecs, but she found it useful to keep a positive mental image.

The past nine or ten months had been beneficial for her. She felt good, liberated. She had found her true calling. The iron had given her a new lease on life, and her ever-growing legion of InstaPix followers had given her the affirmation she needed to keep going. Her fairly tidy and spartan apartment had turned into an archive of sorts. She created a massive pin board loaded with sticky notes, magazine clippings, and printed pictures of massively muscled women that she hoped to emulate as motivation. Her television and PlayStation 4 had gone untouched for months. Most of her free time was spent on the computer doing research or camming. There just wasn't enough time in the day for anything else. Even her off-days were spent obsessing over the future and her goals.

Her social media campaign had paid off. Her InstaPix was up to five-hundred followers now under her own steam. Almost all the comments she received were horny guys who thought she was God's gift to women. No doubt most of her male followers started liking her pics after she started doing webcam sessions for some extra money. She was a bit hesitant at first to cam, fearing some creeps would start stalking her, or propositioning her nonstop. So far, nobody was untoward to her as of yet, and, truth be told, she enjoyed the fact that there were lots of guys who liked a girl with muscle. It made her feel sexy, powerful, to flex her budding sinews, and if she could turn a buck or two doing it, so be it. Her camming had supplemented her income somewhat, at least enough to allow her to spend a little bit more on supplements. A few followers on InstaPix were from fellow girls who saw her as a kindred spirit and motivational icon. It surprised her to know that there were other women out there who looked to her for motivation. Either way, it was heartening to log on and see another few followers joined, or more positive comments on her latest pictures.

Five-hundred fans in the world, she reflected to herself for the millionth time. And that was just by word of mouth alone. She barely advertised herself elsewhere. They ate up ever pic she could send them. The love and acceptance they showed her was worth putting herself out there as she was. She was feeling more comfortable in her own skin now more than ever.

She looked over her latest shot, and deemed it worthy of sharing.

“Someone better call 911 because im bouta kill my chest,” she typed in a flurry and uploaded it via her phone’s IP app. Five-hundred and twenty seven followers now, she noted. She seemed to swell larger with pride reading some of the flattering comments in some of her previous posts. They ran the gamut of being called beautiful, sexy, marriage proposals, ‘u go grrl’ and others. They were all very nice to read and gave her the inspiration to keep going.

Today was chest, shoulders, and back day, and Amber had been looking forward to it. Her chest was her favorite muscle to work, though only marginally. She loved working it all, loved watching herself grow and get stronger. She loved that she was having to start thinking about buying new clothing soon. She crossed the hallway into her bathroom and stepped lightly onto her bathroom scale as she had obsessively for quite some time now. One-twenty five and some change. She had gained seven pound of lean muscle mass in less than a year. Though she was falling short of her self-imposed and patently absurd objective of ten in a year, seven pounds clean was amazing for a girl who was well into her lifting career. All the articles she read about such things frequently told her that women can’t gain mass, or tried to reassure women that they wouldn’t bulk up if they decided to start lifting heavy. She wasn’t interested in girl magazines anyway. Amber wasn’t trying to merely be toned. She wanted mass, and it didn’t seem like anyone at Muscle & Fitness, or Muscular Development wanted women to gain any. She was proving them wrong just by being, and that made her smile even wider. She remembered to give thanks to her parents for her amazing genetic potential.

She hopped off the scale, squeezed into some spandex shorts and athletic shoes, collected her gym bag, placed her phone on her arm band, took her jug of water out of the fridge and went to her home away from home.

---

Planet Wellness was the last place she ever thought she would set foot in to begin her journey for mass. Yet, as she stood outside the establishment, here she was. The purple lowercase font of the sign loomed overhead as a constant reminder.

This last year was totally crazy for her. It was like Amber had become a whole different person. She had changed gyms; it would be unseemly to hang around The Nitro Muscle and Fitness Gym, especially if he who shall not be named was going to still be there. Not to mention, she wanted to save a bit of money, and the monthly fees were expensive.

Instead, Amber quit her share of the membership and joined, against her better judgment at the time, Planet Wellness, the McDonald's of the gym world. It was a bolt out of the blue. A location had opened up mere blocks from her apartment. A flyer had been stuck to the windshield of her car one morning advertising the fact. Her building had a small, cramped weight room in the basement that she had resigned herself to using after canceling her share of the membership at Nitro, but she was not looking forward to using it. It was small, it was dank, the weights were old and rusty, and not to mention all the creeps living in her building didn’t make the prospect any sweeter.

Despite their hostility towards bodybuilders, Planet Wellness wasn’t as bad as she thought. Amber went five days a week later in the mornings if she could help it, avoiding the rush of wannabes and time-wasters of the afternoons and evenings. Planet Wellness was not the ideal place to go if you wanted to pack on some serious muscle, Amber could admit, but it was inexpensive, and the hop, skip and jump away from her apartment allowed her to walk or jog there was appealing. Still, she missed the energy of Nitro. Planet Wellness was like a study hall or a library compared to Nitro.

There was no noise, no personality. It was a chain of gyms made to trick fat middle-aged people into thinking they could lose the weight they gained after overeating on the holidays. Amber was pretty much the only girl there who used the weights, and she was sure that she was the strongest person, male of female, at the gym whenever she went. Nitro had loud, garish metal or gangsta rap thumping in the background while macho assholes swore and screamed as they threw some weight around. Planet Wellness played terrible Top 40s pop nonsense that was perfectly audible over the dull roar of the treadmills and inane conversation of people who came to talk instead of work out. Nitro smelled of sweat and spilled protein shakes, whereas Planet Wellness smelled of cheap, commercial air freshener. Still, it was inexpensive. The money Amber saved by not going to Nitro went into her quest.

She headed inside to stake her claim over by the free weights. She was in luck, there wasn’t anyone in this morning.

“Aw, yiss,” she said with soft triumph and a fist pump. She set her bag and water down , logged in to Slacker, found an appropriate music channel to listen to, settling on a custom station featuring a mix of hardcore punk and 80s thrash and 90s groove metal before she began a warm up set of push-ups to get the blood flowing. Suicidal Tendencies Send Me Your Money from Lights... Camera… Revolution! was the first track. She couldn’t help but get excited as she pushed herself up and lowered herself down. She loved chest day. She loved all exercises really. The prospect of the pump, with all the blood swirling around in her muscles after each set, the heady rush of endorphins, the delicious soreness she felt the next day, all of it made her excited. The set of twenty push-ups went by quickly, with Amber easily and cleanly lifting herself up without slowing or tiring with perfect form.

Sufficiently warmed up, she headed over to the free weights, looking over them like a kid in a toy store. Her blue eyes raked the dumbbells, from the measly two pounders all the way to the massive one-twenties that she dreamed of using one day. Amber loved to lift heavy, which was good for muscle growth. But it’s not good to jump right into heavy lifting first thing in the workout. She settled on twenties to start with and began her first super-set of dumbbell presses, followed immediately by dumbbell flies.

She found a workout plan that suggested twelve reps for three sets, but Amber knew the kind of muscle fibers that yield the greatest power are also those that grow the most. The only way to stimulate growth is working within the power zone which is three to six reps per set. Heavier weights made bigger muscles, so she scaled the reps down to half, but with heavier weights with each set. Banging them out, Amber rested for a minute and moved on to the next set.

As Amber settled onto her last set, she saw someone out of the corner of her eye necessitating a yelp of surprise and a double take. Amber nearly dropped her weights she was prepared to lift. It was a girl, about her age with her hair pulled into a ponytail and clad in yoga attire. She dashed forward to help Amber with an apologetic grimace on her face. Attractive, tan, not very tall, but with slight muscle tone ridged beneath her golden-brown skin. She seemed to be patiently waiting for Amber to notice her before she actually did. Amber’s heart raced. She had been so focused on the pump and her music prevented her from hearing what went on around her.

She set the barbells on the ground and took a minute to catch her breath. Amber looked up at the girl with annoyed confusion plastered on her face. She took the earbuds out and addressed her.

“Something on your mind?” Amber asked sharply.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, or interrupt your set,” the girl said contritely. “It’s just that I wanted to ask you, is your name Amber Woods?”

Amber settled her attention, becoming more intrigued than annoyed, but still remained a little peeved that her workout was going to be delayed for the foreseeable future.

“I’m sorry, but do I know you?” Amber asked, studying the girl’s pretty face and cross-referencing it against the database of faces she had collected over the years. Only, she was terrible with names. This girl didn’t look familiar at all.

“...Not-not o-officially. No,” the girl replied shiftily, looking off to the side for a beat. “We did, uh, have a bit of a run in several months ago. A-at Matt’s place...”

“Matt…?” Amber echoed in confusion. Her eyes bulged when she finally caught on to the girl’s meaning. “Prink-us!” Amber cried, drawing a wounded flinch from the girl. “You’re Prink-us!”

“Um, St-Stephanie,” she corrected meekly. “But, yes, that was me.”

“So, you’re that asshole’s side-piece,” Amber stated, making Stephanie blink in surprise. “What the hell do you want?” Amber demanded angrilly. Why the hell would this bitch go out of her way to bother her? Just to rub it in? Did she know how badly Amber had longed to haul off and deck this bitch in the mouth? Here she was, at last, in the fucking flesh, served on a silver platter. She was playing Russian Roulette with a magazine-fed pistol.

“Well...” Stephanie began quickly, perhaps sensing her time was short. “I sorta, y’know, noticed you a while back and thought that you looked familiar somehow. It dawned on me that you were Amber, Matt’s ex and I tried to drum up the courage to talk to you and, y’know, apologize for what happened. I didn’t know Matt was seeing anyone and if I had, I never would’ve messed around with him in the first place. I’m like, really, really sorry that happened and wish I could go back and warn myself about him,” she blurted. “I know you probably hate me, and that I’m willing to accept, but I just want to tell you that I didn’t mean to hurt you or be a home wrecker and that I’m really sorry. Truly. Like One-hundred percent.”

Amber sat and digested that for a beat. The anger inside just sort of… fizzled. It was a lot to take in. A forcible reminder of stings past. While she had kept her goal of showing up that big oaf at some point in the future, she had been too busy getting over that and just living to bother holding the grudge too closely. Things had been great until now. Everything on the up. She still hated the fucker, and thought she hated Prink-us-- Stephanie, yet here she was owning up to her indiscretions and making amends. She seemed genuine. Why else would she go to the trouble of approaching Amber with telling her who she was? She could’ve gone through life without ever speaking to her and Amber would never have been the wiser.

“Could you ever forgive me?” Stephanie pressed, clasping her hands hopefully in front of her in a conciliatory manner.

Amber was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She tried again, but still nothing. Finally, she said, “Why-why are you telling me this? How did you find me?”

“I just happened across you and recognized your face from Matt’s Bookface account from a while back. He still has several pictures of the two of you together last I checked, and like I said, I thought you looked familiar so I put two and two together.”

“You two are still…?” Amber trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Stephanie’s eyes bulged in horror.

“Oh! No, no-no! No,” she added, unable to answer fast enough. “Absolutely not. No. I left him the same day you did, matter of fact. When you came over, I hid in the bathroom because I was afraid something would happen. I’m a coward, I know. While you and he were screaming at each other, I logged on to his Bookface since he left his phone on the charger in there and didn’t bother locking it to do a bit of corroborating research. Lo and behold, I saw you on his profile and had everything I needed. After you left, I left him, like maybe a minute or two later. No joke.”

“You really didn’t know?” Amber asked warily.

“Not at all. We didn’t start getting closer until right around that time anyway. It just started out as a once and a while thing. I wasn’t really looking to commit, having come off of a bad breakup. It was just meant to be a meaningless thing, but I started to fall for him, against my better judgment. Huh. Hindsight’s always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?”

“Preaching to the choir, sister,” Amber muttered.

“Yeah, I guess I would be. I confronted him after you left and asked him if he ever planned on telling me he already had a girlfriend, and he was all weasily, and ‘Babe this’ and ‘Babe that’ and ‘I was gonna get around to it,’” Stephanie said, dropping her voice an octave to make herself sound like a big dumb asshole. Amber snorted in amusement. She had him almost exact. Stephanie shuddered and stuck her tongue out. “Ugh! It was just so disgusting, what happened. I had had enough, and told him to go fuck himself after that.”

“Ha,” Amber uttered, cracking a smile despite herself. She could relate.

“So, to answer your question, why am I telling you this?” Stephanie paused, frowning in thought before continuing. “To clear my conscience. Rebalance my karma. Own up to my mistakes. That sort of thing. So, what do you say? You forgive me?”

Amber took a deep, cleansing breath. The tightness in her chest had gone. She no longer felt any real enmity towards this chick. She shrugged. “Sure, what the hell.”

Stephanie beamed. She was rather pretty. Amber hated to admit it, but she could see why Matt might go  for a chick like her. She was cute. “Great!” she jubilantly squealed, causing Amber to wince slightly. Perhaps a bit cacophonous, she thought. Nobody’s perfect. Stephanie leaned in to throw her arms around Amber in a tight hug.

“Haha,” Amber uttered, unenthusiastically returning the hug. “Okay, that’s enough, now.”

Stephanie giggled with joy. “That’s such a relief! I though you were wanting to kick my ass or something!”

Thought had crossed my mind, Amber snarked internally. “Nah,” she said diplomatically. “I’m not one to hold grudges.”

“I knew you were cool!” Stephanie said.

“Uh huh. Well, it was… interesting, meeting you and clearing the air, Steph, but I kinda wanna finish my workout if you don’t mind. I can feel my pump leaving,” Amber said, feeling like she was in Fallout and having completed a quest and exhausted any and all possible conversation options with Stephanie, didn’t see any real reason to keep interacting with her.

“Oh! Of course! But, one last thing,” she replied. Amber groaned internally.

“Yes?” she inquired with as much sweetness as she could muster.

“I heard what you said.”

“...About?” Amber engaged her, raising a prompting eyebrow.

“Y’know,” Stephanie said, leaning forward and shielding her mouth conspitatorily. “Getting bigger.”

“Why are you whispering?”Amber inquired.

“I don’t know,” Stephanie replied blanking, apparently just realizing what she was doing. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Lookit, I wanna help.”

Amber guffawed. “You?!” she choked out, trying her best not to laugh. “No offense sweetie, but I don’t think you could teach me anything I don’t already know about bulking up.”

“No, not me,” Stephanie replied in annoyance.

“You said you wanna help,” Amber countered.

“I know that, but what I meant was, I wanna hook you up with some people who can,” Stephanie replied. She crouched down next to her gym bag that she had set on the floor while waiting for Amber earlier.

“’People’?” Amber repeated skeptically.

“Yeah, people...” Stephanie replied absently, rifling through her bag. “No, that’s not it. Oh, c’mon! I knew I put it in here!” she complained, unable to find what she was looking for. Amber glanced down at her wrist, making believe that there was a watch there. “Aha!” Stephanie crowed in triumph. She pulled out a small, white business card and handed it to Amber.

She took it and glanced over it. ‘PumpLabs International,’ it read. ‘Total Human Optimization.’ There was a phone number beneath the words.

“What’s this?” Amber inquired, casting a look at Stephanie to gauge her reaction.

“They can help you. Give them a call. Trust me,” she replied with a smile and wink. Amber felt disinclined to trust her.

“...That’s not a lot to go on, Steph,” Amber said drily.

“Give ‘em a call when you get a chance if you wanna know more,” was all she said, pulling out her phone. “Damn. I gotta run. Listen, it was nice talking to you for a bit and burying the old hatchet.”

“...Yeah. Likewise,” Amber replied somewhat disingenuously, politely gesturing with the card Stephanie handed her as she waved and left. Amber glanced at the card once more. ‘Total Human Optimization,’ she read. What the hell did that even mean? It probably was a crock of shit, anyway. She slid the card into her arm band between her phone and the pouch, and continued on with her workout.

----

Stephanie waited until she was a good distance away out of view, watching Amber begin a set of shoulder raises with the dumbbells. She was progressing nicely. Taking her phone and selecting the single number pre-entered in the contacts list, Stephanie set out to complete her mission. The line rang exactly once before a voice came through on the other end.

“It’s done. Phase one complete,” she said.

“Good,” the voice replied. The line went dead. Stephanie wasted no time disassembling the phone, and removing the SIM card to be destroyed.

All that was left to do was wait on Amber’s next move.

[JerusalemTulip]

I can probably count on one hand the number of stories on here that would have a girl gain seven pounds over the course of her first year and acknowledge that it actually represents great progress.  I like the realism and I like the way it sets up temptation for Amber.  She naturally has no reason to trust the organization on that business card, and they need to be able to offer something beyond this realism in order to tempt her.

[iome60]

very well written, ninjastar: it's captivating!
now I am wondering what are Amber's plans other than getting bigger (and hopefully a lot stronger): what is she doing other than working out?
will she meet a man right for her? or will she reconnect with Matt?

ah, I just finished reading, but my hunger is unyelding...
thanks for your great work!

[M7]

I'm liking the "boring exposition." Agreed with Jerusalem about the realism.  Great writing as usual Ninja. K+++  Lookin forward to seeing how Matt will have to deal with Amber in the future. 

[Jeremy Lightning]

Great writing, I liked what I read here a great deal, I'm thinking that maybe Stephanie was a plant, that she had seduced her boyfriend just for being the reason that Amber would want to get even more muscular, her appearance here, especially the covert phone call and the destruction of the phone points to a possibly larger role in the universe. I am looking forward to more! k+!

[jdm022]

Great job NinjaStar,

I love the character development.  I Look forward to the upcoming chapters!!!

 

[urbanspaceman83]

I'm intrigued and am also seeing great potential in this story, NinjaStar! I'm wondering if Stephanie is only pretending that she was ever involved with Matt. Maybe the organization got that information about Matt through other methods (hacking into Matt's phone, interrogation). K+!

[NinjaStar]

I AM A GREAT NECROMANCER, RISE MY CREATION, ONCE AGAIN JOIN THE LIVING... KLAATU. BARADA. NECKTIE, er, NICKEL, fuck, something like that, you get the gist. Thanks for taking an interest, guys. I really appreciate the responses, and like the questions being asked. Some of you may be on to something. I hope this will be well received and I promise to start the muscle soon. This little bit should be the last of the fluff.

----

Amber found herself unable to concentrate.

The last set of her workout went badly. Her usual rhythm was thrown out of whack by Stephanie’s intrusion. Is that what it was? An intrusion? All the girl wanted to do was apologize for her hand in what had happened. Amber couldn’t help but respect that, perhaps respect that enough to cross her name, which she had just learned oddly enough, from her mental hit-list. Only one name topped that list now, one that Amber didn’t want to think about just yet, anyway. He’d get his. One day. But that was a ways off yet.

Amber didn’t know what the issue she was having was. She was trying to complete some shoulder raises, yet she was having trouble focusing. As much as she wanted to blame Prink-us-- Stephanie for killing her flow it was as much something else as it was the little meet-and-greet that just occurred moments ago. She tried to bust out her sets while looking in the mirror to make sure her form was good, but her eye kept drifting to the white card stuffed in her armband.

‘PumpLabs International,’ was a company that Amber was not familiar with. ‘Total Human Optimization,’ sounded like typical supplement company bullshit. They’d tell you anything if you bought their products. It was nebulous enough to mean anything. Stephanie said they could help not that they would.

They’re probably nothing major, Amber thought, somewhat sourly. They probably peddle some  stupid ‘all-natural, holistic’ horseshit that doesn’t even work. Worst case scenario, it’s a scam, in which case I’ll tell ‘em to put and egg in their shoe and beat it, best case I’ll get a new shaker or a weight belt, or a fucking t-shirt out of the deal. Whoopie. They sure could help, Steph. Thanks for the hookup.

And what would she tell them, if asked? ‘How did you find us?’ ‘Yeah, some random encounter with a  chick I don’t really know, who’s probably going to get a commission from me name dropping her in this conversation, handed me this card and told me you could help me put on some serious muscle mass--*click* Hello?’

Amber winced as she raised the dumbbell once more, trying to focus more on the burning muscle than the pessimism that soured her thought process, but it just wasn’t happening.

“Fuck it,” Amber cursed, deciding enough was enough. Amber just wasn’t in the right frame of mind. She had put time in, and she felt a pump permeating her chest and shoulders, but it wasn’t outstanding like it usually was. She went over to the rack and set her choice of dumbbells back in the empty slots. She irritably unwrapped her sweaty armband with a horrendous tearing of Velcro that seemed to erupt out of the relative quiet of the gym floor. The card stuck to her sweaty arm. It seemed to be made of sturdy stuff instead of simple stiff paper.

She peeled it away and looked at it for the millionth time. PumpLabs International, she read again. Seems like the kind of corporation that was ‘international’ would be more well known if it were truly what it was represented to be. She was about to mull it over some more, when she heard a voice from behind.

“Excuse me,” called out a mellow male voice. And whipped her head around to see a rather handsome man she had never seen before standing there. He wasn’t super tall, maybe only a few inches taller than her own 5’6”, but he was very good looking and in tremendous shape.  He looked to be the kind of guy that worked out intensely, but wasn’t trying to be as big as possible. His tight shirt filled out in all the right places, as Amber’s blue eyes indulged themselves for a moment.

“Um… yes?” she replied, mentally kicking herself for checking him out so obviously. If he noticed, or seemed put off, he didn’t show it. Her cheeks burned. She was hoping her hot, sweaty skin mitigated the blush that so aggressively attacked her face.

“Would you mind if I squeezed in here?” he asked, pointing to the rack of dumbbells she had just finished with.

Amber struggled to think of what to say. “Of course!” she blurted out nervously, trying in vain to bite down the last syllable of an unnecessary shriek brought on by nerves. “I-I mean, not at all!” she hastily added with a nervous smile. “I’m just finishing up, matter of fact.” She moved to wipe off the bench from her sweat and hastily picked up her things to allow him room. “All yours,” she said, inviting him to do what he was waiting for.

“Oh, cool, thanks,” the man said, moving into the dumbbell area and selected the two she had just got done using. “You were using these, weren’t you?”

“Huh?” Amber stared blankly.

“These twenties,” he replied, jiggling the weights for emphasis, voice tinged with admiration. “I think it’s cool when girls go heavy. Not something you see every day.”

“Oh... well… I, uh, thanks,” she muttered inarticulately, feeling her face go nuclear. She hitched up her bag and nearly empty water jug. “I, uh, have to get going,” she sheepishly made a vague gesture to the side to indicate she was off. He looked at her strangely, face betraying what exactly? Disappointment? Embarrassment? Amber didn’t know, but whatever he was feeling, it was nothing compared to how she felt at this moment. Not knowing what else to say, she offered him an awkward smile, and turned to leave. Mere steps later, he called out to her.

“Hey, wait!” he said, coming behind her. Amber turned to look at him. “Before you go, name’s Shane.” He extended his hand.

“Oh, A-Amber,” she replied, chewing her lip nervously.

“Amber,” Shane repeated. “Pretty name.”

Damn you, Amber thought, her face so hot it felt ready to start melting like she just opened the Ark of the Covenant. Just when she thought she was out, he kept making her blush. “Th-thank you,” she said instead. “Shane, huh? W-well thats, uh...” Amber made a face, wracking her brain to think of something complimentary to say about it.

“...Something a lit nerd would name his child,” Shane answered for her with a handsome little smile.

“Huh?” Amber said, puzzled. Shane looked at her strangely.

“What, you never read Shane by Jack Schaeffer in school? Y’know ‘Shane, come back!’”

“No,” Amber said, shaking her head slightly.

“Never saw the 1953 movie with Alan Ladd, Jean Arthur, and a young Jack Palance either, huh?”

“N-no, can’t say that I have,” Amber admitted sheepishly. Great, she thought. Now he was going to think she was dumb and uncultured.

“Oh, well,” Shane shrugged. “I couldn’t avoid reading it since my dad was my 7th grade English and Literature teacher.”

“Eee, that must’ve been rough,” she commented.

“It wasn’t so bad. Got me into college, I guess.”

“I guess my parents were really into Jurassic Park or something,” Amber interjected. Shane blinked.

“Really?” he said, chewing over what she just said. Amber herself was unsure whether or not that what she had just blurted out was even relevant. She redoubled her blushing, inwardly kicking herself for being so awkward around guys. “Oh!” Shane cried, slapping his forehead. “I getcha. 'Cause of the mosquitoes in the amber, right?” He let out a little chuckle that Amber wasn’t entirely sure was or wasn’t for her benefit. Hearing it made her feel good though, rescuing her non-sequitur from the ‘dud’ pile.

“Right,” Amber bluffed.

“Good one,” Shane said, patting her on the shoulder. “Ooh, solid,” he commented favorably. Amber could’ve died at that moment. She squeezed her thighs together and chewed her lip nervously. “Well, I shouldn’t keep you,” Shane said, giving her a warm, inviting smile. “It was nice meeting you, Amber.”

“Y-yes, likewise,” she replied.

“See you around?” Shane asked, gesturing vaguely at the gym.

“Yes, I’ll be here,” Amber said a little too quickly and eagerly.

“Cool,” Shane said, not selling her nervousness, giving her a wink and going back to the dumbbells.

Amber stood there, watching him go, seeing him pick up the twenties she forgot to rerack for him and proceed to curl. She watched his biceps fill his shirt’s sleeves with both envy and a little bit of lust. Her eyes trailed all over his body as he stood curling. Okay, a lot of lust. She really didn’t know who this guy was, but he was hot. It wasn’t long before she realized that he knew she was goggling at him. The smirk on his face was well hidden, but he allowed enough interest to show while pretending to pay it no mind.

Her face became as the sun.

She turned and left.

–--

The shower was pleasant and much needed. She regretted not showering at the gym, but she didn’t think she could face Shane again after making a total blushing schoolgirl out of herself on the chance that he met her again between leaving the women’s locker room and the door. Instead, she elected to walk the short distance back home, stinky and sweaty but at least with some dignity intact. Part of her dreaded going tomorrow in case he was there again, but enough of her looked forward to it.

It had been a long time since she had been with a man. It might be nice to hook up, let off some steam. But, she reminded herself, none of her relationships ever turned out. Matt had approached her almost the exact same way, only much more blunt and less playfully. Matt was a cave man who pretty much hit her on the head with his club and dragged her off to his cave. Amber, as stupid and callow as she was then, was flattered by his compliments and quite taken with his bulging muscles. Shane was interested in her, no doubt, but he was at least respectful of her personal space. Except when he touched her shoulder. She could swear his fingertips lingered there even an hour after the fact. He seemed quite taken with what he felt there. Did he like a girl with muscles?

Amber shook her head violently, trying to dispel these thoughts. She didn’t need this now.

Instead, her thoughts went to the card. Amber set it down on her dining table when she came home. It sat amongst the cluster of junk mail, bills, and back issues of bodybuilding magazines Amber had accumulated over the last year. She scooped it up and unplugged her phone as it charged in the kitchenette.

“PumpLabs,” Amber whispered, punching the name into Google. Amber frowned as she scrolled through the listing. Engineering companies, water drainage solutions, and air-separation diagrams came forth, but no international bodybuilding supplement company’s page was among the hits. Either they just started, or this was a bunch of bullshit.

“Pfft. Figures,” Amber spat. It was a bunch of nothi-- Wait.

An InstaPix page. Amber thumbed the link. ‘Natalie Marsh,’ it read. ‘Natalie Marsh - - 19 - 5’6” - Taken by PumpLabs  - Life begins when your comfort zone ends!’

The page was home to hundreds and hundreds of pics of a very beautiful blonde girl with the body of a champion bodybuilder.

“Nineteen?!” Amber blurted as she scrolled by pics ranging from sweaty gym selfies, to coquettish cheesecake shots, to the borderline pornographic. Her soft features, blue eyes, pink, perfect lips and clear, youthful beauty seemed at odds with the gigantic she-hulk body this girl possessed. She had more muscle than an entire Ms. Olympia lineup combined! How the hell was this even possible! She must’ve been juicing like a racehorse, yet, she didn’t seem at all 'roided out save for her unreal proportions. Her face was girlish, her skin was devoid of hair and pimples, and her thick blonde bob was full and lush. This girl was a genetic marvel that made Amber look like total shit and her gains look like she was just retaining water.

God, her biceps were so big and veiny! Were they over eighteen inches?! Look at that split! Her pecs bulging, feathered and full, filling out her shirt and plunging down her neckline. Her shoulders were so wide and capped, ready to crack any doorframe unlucky enough to receive her. Her abs chisled and fatless with an incredibly trimmed waist, looking capable of withstanding a Tomahawk cruise missile. Her legs and glutes popped with fresh, ripened muscle beyond that of any female bodybuilder Amber had seen, and even many male bodybuilder couldn’t stack up. This Natalie seemed to have an aversion towards pants, or she was simply unable to wear them due to how massive her thighs and calves were. The sickening, toxic burn of jealousy raged inside Amber. Her she sat, a mere two years older than this amazing specimen of a girl, and she was hardly worthy of calling herself a figure, let alone physique model. She was busting her ass in the gym and seeing slight results if she saw any at all, and this Natalie Marsh seemed to be gaining by the day!

Amber finally hit the last entry in her timeline, the girl Natalie looking far, far skinnier than the most recent pic. A mere ninety-eight pound waif... three months ago?!

“How the fuck...” Amber gaped, checking the date posted on the pictures. She thumbed vigorously upward towards the most recent entry. Indeed. Three months. That’s how long it took Natalie to explode into big ball of muscle. Three goddamned, motherfucking months! Amber was at a loss for words. 

“Did PumpLabs do this??” Amber asked aloud. Could they?? It hardly seemed real. Amber opened a new tab and re-entered ‘PumpLabs’ into the search bar. Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. She couldn’t find anything about them still that was remotely relevant. The closest find was Natalie’s IP page. Advertisements for this ghost of a company splashed all over the place, none more prominently than the weird blue outfit she wore in several pictures... What the fuck was that? It looked like something a cyclist would wear. It was a long sleeved leotard looking thing. It clung to her contours, gradually filling out with more and more muscle as Natalie's timeline advanced. Despite the outfit, her muscles were clearly defined against the filmy blue garment.

She looked at the card she was holding. She read it once more, eyes lingering on the number. She thumbed the phone button to enter the number she hesitatingly punched in, mouth drying, heart racing. She hit call. The line rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Amber chewed her lip, ready to abort the call.

A voice came through on the other side. It sounded… German maybe? The voiced sounded like it was offering instructions that Amber figured could be about wienerschnitzel or invading Poland. Then, presumably, came the same in French, Italian, Spanish, then finally English.

“...To proceed in English, press five,” the automated woman commanded. Amber did so. “Thank you. Your call is important to us. Unfortunately, due to unusually high call volume, we have to place you on hold. We thank you for your patience, and promise that a representative will be with you shortly.” Flowery lobby music started playing. Amber waited for some time, ears perked and primed for any change in sound from the vaguely non-litigable Chuck Mangione-esque music that numbed her soul. She wanted a to go down to the Mega-Lo-Mart for a tap and die and some WD-40, or a rope to make a noose to hang herself with. A click, then a vaguely accented woman’s voice came through the other end.

“Thank you for calling PumpLabs International, my name is Cynthia, how may I help step out of your comfort zone today?”

Amber blinked, then cleared her throat and stood up straight as if that would make her sound less lost and more authoritative. “Um, yes, my name is Amber, Amber Woods, and I received a business card with this number on it from a girl who told me that you could, uh… help me.”

“Well, helping people is certainly something we do here at PumpLabs. What did you need help with, Amber?” Cynthia pressed. “Are you currently involved in any sport, or pursuant to any interests in bodybuilding, cross-fit, power-lifting, that sort of thing?”

“Um, yes. B-bodybuilding, I guess.”

“I see. And what do you hope to do in bodybuilding, Ms. Woods?” Amber frowned. Do? Get bigger of course! Wasn't that what PumpLabs was all about?

“W-well, I… Wanna, y’know, put on some more s-size and stuff like that. I haven’t put in any thought towards, like, competing or anything like that.”

“I see,” Cynthia replied neutrally, which made Amber nervous. “May I ask how you heard from us?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Amber asked, suddenly worried that she was about to be hung up on.

“You mentioned a girl who gave you a business card, might you be able to tell me her name?”

“Uh, St-Stephanie something, I think? I’m afraid I don’t really know more than that. I don’t know her or her last name. We’re only, like… acquaintances I guess. I've only spoken to her like once.”

Cynthia was quiet for a beat. “That’s fine. We may be able to do something with you.”

“You can???” Amber squeaked, completely baffled that Cynthia was even still on the line, let alone positively responding to her at all. “I mean, you can?” Amber repeated, trying to sound a little more hopeful.

“Yes. We specialize in taking struggling athletes such as yourself under our wing and molding them into championship material. If you were given our number then you must be possessing potential yet untapped. We can certainly help you, but we cannot simply give you help for free. There is a cost.” Amber keyed in the use of the word 'struggling.' It galled her, but as much as she hated to admit it, Cynthia was right, Amber was struggling. Amber could only wonder what the cost Cynthia was talking about.

Of course, Amber thought ruefully but did not say. No free lunch, and all. “Okay...” she replied vaguely, hoping to lead Cynthia on for more information. What could the cost possibly be? Amber knew that there would be a hitch, so it didn't come as a surprise. Naturally, Stephanie neglected to tell her everything on purpose, but Amber was cagey enough to know that something was up.

“Well, we cannot proceed as we are because we do not have any information on you as of yet, and thus cannot enroll you in our bodybuilding assistance program, but what I can do is schedule a meeting between you and one of our reps, whom I believe is currently in your area as we speak.”

“R-really?” Amber questioned. She hadn’t seen anything PumpLabs related in town. Hell, hours ago, she wasn’t even aware something like this existed.

“Yes. This is quite fortuitous,” Cynthia replied. “We have only recently begun operations in the U.S.”

“Um, okay,” Amber replied, unsure of what to say. She supposed that made sense. Perhaps that was why she never heard of Pumplabs before today. “Wait, how did you know I was in the U.S.?”

“Great. May I schedule a meeting with you and our rep?” Cynthia asked, ignoring her last question.

“Um, I suppose, but how did you know I was--” Amber tried to ask again but was cut off once more. If they didn't know anything about her, how did they know where she was calling from?

“Great, thank you. I will book something within a few days for you.”

They work fast, Amber thought. Almost too fast for comfort. “Um, cool? But you still didn’t--”

“Our representative will contact you soon. They will conduct and interview with you to determine what if anything can be done, and write a letter of recommendation whether or not you qualify for our program. They will contact you shortly. Thank you for calling PumpLabs and have a great day!”

“Wait!” Amber shouted. “How will the reach me? I didn’t give you my number or address! Nononononodon’thangup!!! Aaahh! Fuck!” Amber gestured impotently. She blew a disgusted sigh and redialed the number anticipating more flugelhorn music. Instead, three tones sounded.

“We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again.”

“What?” Amber blurted, shocked. She tried again.

“We’re sorry. The number you are trying to reach--” Amber checked the card intently, then her phone, trying to see where she screwed up and punched it in again.

Do-do-DO “We’re sorry--”

“What the fuck?” Amber cursed. Did PumpLabs pick up stakes and fold within the last five seconds? Amber tried again. The same tone, the same automated message. She ended the call and stared at the card so hard, lasers ought to have shot out of her eyes and burnt the fucking thing.

Amber’s brain hurt. She seemed to lose all sense of direction. Did she dream the whole thing? They didn’t exist on the internet, and apparently don’t have a phone number. Who did she talk to then? The call log noted a conversation lasting several minutes before the multiple redials she attempted. This was insane. Was she insane? Did she even talk to anybody? She set the card down and her phone and took a minute to collect her thoughts.

Years ago, she had learned a word that she always struggled to find a situation for. Kafkaesque. She never thought in a million years that she would ever experience anything that could be described as it in her life.

It must’ve happened. Natalie Marsh’s InstaPix account burned fresh in her mind. The skinny little waif who gained a whole other person’s muscle mass in three short months. Her account page was still open in her browser. Amber perused it again.

No doubt about it, Natalie flexed, primped, smiled, posed, and flirted with the camera several hundred times, each day gaining more and more muscle mass. Sometimes, multiple pictures were taken in the same day, and Amber could swear Natalie gained tangible amounts of muscle in-between shots. All the while, PumpLabs was prominently displayed in one way or another. Amber scanned Natalie’s time-line again, and again, hoping to gain some insight as to what Natalie was taking to get so big. Her cellphone had a good camera on it. The shots were quality.  Amber couldn’t discern any of the telltale signs like puncture marks, or any sort of chemical enhancement could be seen. She was a Frankenstein of youthful, girlish beauty and unbelievable muscularity. Natalie Marsh was a living, breathing Photoshop job, and Amber hated her for it.

Whatever PumpLabs peddled, must’ve been good stuff. And probably highly illegal. All Amber knew, is that she wanted in on it. By hook or by crook, she’d find a way.

[JerusalemTulip]

When necromancy updates one of your stories its all good.  I'm glad that you took this back up. 

I don't have any questions or theories about anything yet, just wanted to say that I thoroughly enjoyed reading it.  I appreciate the amount of detail you go into for every part, it makes the interaction feel very authentic. 

[El_Roy_1999]

That was awesome!
I especially liked the flirty banter. That really brings the characters to life.

[LordDaroth]

Feel like shits about to go down

[Poddy]

It lives!!!

I'm over the moon you were able to nudge this forward some more. I'm absolutely loving it so far, Amber rewinding through Natalie's profile was utterly palpitating. You captured Amber's lustful incredulity better than I've ever read. Thank you again for contributing to the PumpLabs universe, I'm eternally grateful, Mr. Star.

/gush