Testapram - Weight Gain of the Future!

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It was another dreary spring night as Shirley sat on her couch, watching TV. It had been raining since last night, not that that was what was keeping her indoors. In truth, ever since her breakup with Jerome three years ago, she had been a near permanent fixture in her apartment, save for the few times she had to step outside to pick up a delivery. Her social circle had never been big, but what few friends she did have left her in short order after she and Jerome split - as it turns out, most of them just wanted to be close to him and the rest were just transients in their own right.

As is often the case, she turned to food for comfort when there was no one around to provide an alternative. Day after day, week after week, month after month just continuously increasing her portion sizes and how often she ate. At this point, some of the only time she didn't have a snack nearby was when she was sleeping. At 28 years old, she had ballooned up to 415 pounds at only 5'1" tall. In short, her health was suffering and her life wasn't doing much better.

Thunder cracked behind the windows as Shirley cracked into her second cheesecake of the day. She barely even tasted it anymore, but she just couldn't get herself to stop. Between bites, an infomercial came on. As she fumbled for the remote to try and change the channel, she couldn't help but overhear the overly cheery jingle.

"Is your difficulty gaining weight causing a lot of unneeded stress in your life? Do you often find yourself wishing you could just get bigger?"

Who would ever think that, Shirley thought to herself, clearly perplexed by the premise of the commercial.

"Worry no more! With Testapram, all your weight gain concerns will be a thing of the past!"

Shirley rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but give what was on a more serious look. The scene shifted to a before-and-after shot of a woman. In the before, she was scrawny, with thin hair and a tired expression. In the after, however, her body looked much more full, her muscles especially looking bigger, bordering on athletic. Her hair looked fuller, her expression much happier, and, it may have ben a trick with the photos, but she even looked a bit taller. The commercial included her commentary (the model was apparently named Christine), and in a smooth, youthful voice she said, "I was only on Testapram for a year, but what a difference it made! Before I knew it I was healthier, stronger, and, I really couldn't believe this, but taller! I grew two inches taller in a year on Testapram, and I'm honestly amazed!"

Shirley narrowed her eyes at the TV, thoughts racing through her head on whether or not this was complete nonsense. It continued in the generic narrator voice, "Not convinced? Hear from two more of our clients and see for yourself!"

The scene shifted to another before-and-after, this time with a much more husky woman. Still skinny compared to me, Shirley though, but the after was shocking. While the previous woman looked more "normal" in her after shot, perhaps athletic in the right light, this second woman looked downright muscular! As her narration began, Shirley couldn't help but note her huskier, deeper voice as she said, "I been on Testapram for a little under a year and a half now, and I don't think I'll ever get off it. I was a real chunker before, I think I was like 250 pounds at 5'4". I'm 5'9" now, 200 pounds, and I'm strong enough to bench press my former self!" The woman, Angela, accented her remark by flexing her arms, and large, hard looking mounds popped out of her arm.

At this point Shirley was hooked, she knew she would watch the commercial to its completion. The scene then shifted to its third and final before-and-after. This time it was an Asian woman named Rebeccah. In her before, she was even smaller than Christine, with a listed height and weight of 4'8" and 81 pounds. In the after, she was a towering, borderline monstrous giant, weighing in at 270 pounds at 6'3". The woman's breasts were enormous, but Shirley couldn't help but notice the stubble under her arms (in the after picture she was flexing, much like how Angela did in her interview).

In an even deeper voice than Angela's, Rebeccas began her narration with, "I was always a big eater, but I was always stuck as a little string bean. I know plenty of girls would have killed for that, but, frankly, I just wanted to have some meat on my bones. I've been on Testapram for about 8 months, eating the same way I always have, and, well, you can see the results."

Shirley's jaw had dropped - there truly was no guarantee that this drug was real, but on the off chance that it was, big things were in her future.

The commercial concluded with, "If that wasn't enough to convince you, maybe this will! If you order once bottle of Testapram in the next half hour, we'll throw in two more bottles completely FREE! And if you aren't satisfied with the results, just let us know and we'll refund all three bottles! That's just how sure we are you'll love it!"

In small text on the screen, it read, "Disclaimer: No exercise needed to achieve any of the results shown. While it may increase the speed of your treatment plan, it currently is not nor will it ever be required. A high calorie diet is all that is needed to achieve results."

"Call the number below or order online for your Testapram bottles now!"

Less than ten seconds later, Shirley received a notification that her order of 10 bottles (plus 20 free additional bottles, per the promotion) were on their way to her, and should arrive by the end of the week.

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The boxes arrived in the afternoon three days after Shirley placed her order, exactly when they were supposed to come. It was 9 bottles to a box, so she carefully brought the four boxes into her home. She was anxious to open them and give them a try, as in her mind the worst case scenario would be her getting a refund and wasting her time on this fruitless endeavor.

Shirley opened the first box, and the bottles were surprisingly mundane in their design, looking like typical pharmacy pill bottles. The label instructed that there were 30 pills in the bottle, and she was supposed to take one pill per day with food. Further into the box was a small pamphlet with additional information, including that no changes to her lifestyle were needed to see results (just as the disclaimer on the TV said), and that as long as she followed the regimen of one pill per day she will start seeing results after a week (or her money back!).

In the free time she had while waiting for the bottles, Shirley's caloric intake had increased sharply to try and assuage her anxiety. Upon reading the material, the thought crossed her mind that she had already changed her lifestyle, somewhat, so to see if the pills truly worked as advertised she would need to continue that level of feeding herself.

Taking the bottle of pills with her, Shirley got comfortable back on the couch, her third meal of the afternoon waiting for her (a bowl of sugary cereal with whole milk, peanut butter, and whipped cream). She cautiously popped one of the pills between gulps of her cereal, expecting to feel something right away. When she didn't, Shirley found that she couldn't keep her impulses at bay and immediately downed two more pills. And then before she knew it she had downed 4 more! After all, if one pill a day for seven days started to yield results, maybe seven pills in one day would do the same....

The logic felt faulty the whole way through, but she had already ingested the pills, so the only way out was through.

Less than a half hour later, after finishing her snack in the middle of a show, Shirley did start to feel something. Her heart began pounding, and it kept pounding and pounding and pounding, louder and harder as she sat there. She started sweating, lightly and cold at first, but in a matter of seconds she was drenched in a hot deluge of sweat, dripping down from her forehead down to her feet. Shirley was so hot and uncomfortable that she took off her shirt as fast as she could, attempting to get any relief.

She never wore a bra in her home, so now she was on the couch, topless and fat, sweating like a roasting pig. Shirley didn't even know she had this much water in her body, she certainly didn't drink much of the stuff. And yet, no matter how much she sweat, no relief came. Like a switch being flipped, an idea finally came to her: the fridge!

She waddled into her kitchen as fast as her lubricated, heavy feet would take her, and upon reaching the fridge thrust the door open and stuck her head inside. Finally, some relief for her aching flesh! The cool air felt nice on her skin, and as it touched her bare breasts made her nipples stand up. Shirley stood like this for maybe a minute before another impulse took her: with all this food around, it would be a waste if she didn't indulge herself a bit.

And so she stood there for half an hour more, mindlessly tearing into anything and everything she could, her stomach like a black hole, until finally the fridge was empty. Shirley, however, still wasn't satisfied. Hurrying over to her phone, she ordered half a dozen of the biggest pizzas her local shop would deliver, with dozens of sides and deserts. The hour she had to wait for it all to come was unbearable, Shirley only able to survive it by completely cleaning her apartment out of food. Not a morsel could be found in the place, but, at least, the pizzas had arrived!

She answered the door as she was, short, fat, hairy (she had no one to shave for, after all), still sweaty and now covered in crumbs. The deliveryperson was surely flummoxed by her appearance, but she shooed him away quickly after bringing everything inside. The rest of that night, Shirley gorged herself on delivery after delivery, ordering more takeout and groceries to keep her enormous lust for food at bay. Finally, at nightfall, did she feel full and completely drained. Sleep came to her easily, and she slept deep and well.

[GreatJustice]

Great start! Interesting idea too

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Shirley woke up the next morning in what felt like a puddle. She was laying on the tiles of her kitchen and she didn't remember how she got there. Over the next few seconds she was able to confirm that she was, indeed, laying in a puddle of her own sweat. Luckily her body seemed to have calmed down, so she wasn't producing anymore.

As she got up, she also noticed how incredibly rested she felt! Normally, her sleep apnea would force her to wake up throughout the night, never really allowing her to fully rest. Was this part of the effect of the drug, or perhaps just a side effect of the dosage she took yesterday? Either way, due to the strain her binge put on her wallet alone, she won't be taking that many at once again.

Standing up now, Shirley could tell that the Testapram has already started to work. She could tell right away that her perspective had shifted since last night, meaning that without a doubt she had grown taller! Upon realizing this, Shirley quickly stepped into the bathroom to examine herself in the mirror.

Just by walking through the door she was able to confirm that she had grown - the doorknob, which had previously been level with the bottom of her chest, was now standing at the middle of her stomach! She must have grown four or five inches in just a night! Indeed, the mirror confirmed that her legs looked longer than usual, and her torso and arms have lengthened proportionally.

Taking the rest of herself in, she was a bit disappointed that no other changes looked as obvious. Her brown, curly hair had grown a little, maybe, and she supposed it did look a touch stronger. She was still fat, of course, and her belly still stuck out considerably and hung low. Her breasts, which weren't even all that big considering her weight, looked about the same. She certainly didn't look like she had gained muscles like any of the women on the commercial.

Her previous elation was quickly deflating, and it was only by comparing her legs to a pair of leggings she owned that she could even feel satisfied that her growth was real and not just a trick her mind was playing on her. Nearly ready to sulk into one of the many treats she bought herself yesterday, Shirley decided that she might as well weigh herself. She did it everyday as a way to punish herself for letting herself go this much, so why should today be any different?

Going back to the bathroom, she took out her scale and stepped on it. To her shock, the number it displayed was 398. She couldn't believe her eyes, and had to weigh herself three more times to confirm. This was amazing, she had actually lost some weight even after that insane binge last night! Even if it was just water weight (which she doubted since she felt fine) it was the first time she had seen the scale go down in years! To Shirley, this was all she needed to feel confident that she was heading in the right direction.

Feeling motivated for the first time in years, Shirley decided that, since she was starting a new chapter in her life, she should actually clean her place properly. Over the next hour, she mopped up the puddle she had slept in, put all the trash she had created into bags, and sanitized and wiped every surface in her little apartment. Feeling a bit sweaty from the exertion (nothing like the way she was last night), Shirley decided to take a shower, and even shaved herself to signify that she was starting fresh. There wasn't much hair, even though it had been half a year since the last time she had done it, so in short order she was clean and smooth.

After dressing herself in the typical oversized shirt and shorts, she took out the trash and decided it was finally time to eat and take her pill. At this point Shirley was conflicted. On the one hand, she felt that she should try to eat "healthy" to help better fuel her body. On the other, the Testapram did say to not change your lifestyle. Truly, Shirley battled with herself in her mind, unsure of what to do, until her stomach growled with such intensity that she needed to satisfy it. She tore into a box of cookies and a bunch of bananas, thinking this was a suitable compromise for now. After filling her stomach a bit, she downed two more pills, excited to see how this more reasonable dosage would change her over time.

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A month had passed since Testapram first entered Shirley's life. True to her resolution on the second day, she continued to take only two pills a day, no matter how eager she was to accelerate her growth. Additionally, over the first 30 days Shirley noticed that she was developing more of an appetite for healthier, nutrient rich food. Though this would likely count as a change to her lifestyle, Shirley resolved that the least she could do was ensure her caloric intake remained the same.

For the first two weeks she used a calorie counting app to track how much she was eating in a day. To her surprise, her daily average over those two weeks was just north of 8000 calories. Though she still held on to a number of sugar filled, fatty treats, Shirley also began to stockpile protein powders, pre-made shakes, and bags upon bags of frozen vegetables. She needed to eat even more of the healthy food to take in as many calories as the junk provided her, but Shirley soon found that the it was far easier to eat the nutritious food than the junk, oftentimes even feeling hungrier after eating the same number of calories.

By the end of this first month, Shirley's daily average calories had crept up to 9200, and she had never felt better! Her brown curls had grown out considerably, reaching below her shoulders for the first time in her life. Her skin was radiant and completely without blemishes. She did find that she needed to shave more, though, as even those hairs were thick and luscious, eager to come back for more. Shirley was consistently sleeping 7 hours a night, and she felt completely rested each morning, her sleep apnea all but cured.

Her other physical changes were even more shocking. Most noticeable, she felt, was her height, which she tracked in a very juvenile way - marking the space where her head reaches the door frame with a pencil each morning. As of this morning, she has reached to to 5'8", an absolutely statuesque height compared to her lifelong 5'1". The height growth over the rest of the month wasn't quite as explosive as what she had experienced on the first day, and because of that she's continuously tempted to take more than the two pills per day that she's committed to.

Now that she was taller, Shirley's gut was also far less noticeable. It barely stuck out, and it was close to not hanging at all. Despite that, Shirley's weight hadn't dropped much over that month. On this morning she still weighed a staggering 377 pounds, but it was the best she had ever felt.

Her physique was really beginning to show a difference, as well, beyond just the change in height. Shirley's shoulders were wider, much wider actually, and her shirts were finally starting to fit well in that area. Her breasts had also become significantly more plump, and yet they were more perky than ever. None of her bras fit anymore, which was just as well, considering they did a good enough job of standing on their own lately. Her arms and legs, which had always been thick due to fat, were now a touch slimmer but significantly more solid. She had no real way to test her strength in her apartment, nor was she particularly interested in doing so, but she found herself fascinated by the aesthetic appeal of muscles on her body. Most mornings (and occasionally throughout the day) she would attempt the flexes she saw the women in the commercial do, and she was elated to find that each day she got a little closer to looking like Angela (Rebeccah was still a ways away).

Her wardrobe was becoming strained, as fewer things fit on Shirley the way she preferred each passing day. As she had little reason to leave her apartment on any given day this wouldn't normally be an issue, but as her body changed so to did her confidence. For the first time in years Shirley actually felt a desire to go out and experience the world! Hopefully after a few more weeks her body wouldn't be in flux as much and it'll be safer to invest in a new wardrobe. At this time, though, she's content to make do with what she has on hand.

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*That Same Night*

After a whole day of lounging, working her remote job, and consuming her fill of calories, Shirley could contain it no longer - she lusted to go outside. This was something she hadn't felt in years, but over the course of this first month her confidence had changed along with her body. This had grown from a curiosity to a want, and from a want to a need, one as great as her appetite.

She would not go out during the day, though. No, she lacked the proper attire and, frankly, didn't want anyone looking at her. This excursion would purely be for her, a symbol of how much she had grown in just a month.

Once the decision had been made, Shirley spent the rest of the daylight hours pouring through her wardrobe. Though it was unlikely she'd find anything that fit well, she at least wanted to be covered in all the important areas.

After a while of looking, she settled on a t-shirt and shorts combination that used to be a favorite of hers. Both articles used to be a bit baggy on her (even at her size), but now they fit...well. The shirt, which had a pale blue design, fit just right against her shoulders, and she would have had a full range of movement had it not been for her breasts. Those little globes stuck out far from her chest, and caused her shirt both to hang a bit loosely at the bottom and to only reach the middle of her stomach. This used to be a thing of great shame for Shirley, having to reveal her stomach, but now she was almost giddy to do so. The shorts, as well, only reached the middle of her thighs and fit on them like a glove.

Shoes would be a but trickier. She never wore any in her apartment, so it was a complete shock to Shirley that none of her pairs fit her. After running through them all, she noticed that her feet, much like the rest of her, had grown. Comparing one foot to its corresponding shoe, it was clear that her feet were several sizes too big, both longer and wider than her shoes. Shirley had never considered it before, but she would need to buy some new shoes as well once her growth slowed down.

No matter, she thought to herself. It'll be dark outside, so if I do come across anyone I doubt they'll notice I'm not wearing shoes. Plus, I'll be outside, so it's not really that weird for me to be barefoot.

Once the clock struck midnight, Shirley decided that it was time. She put one hand on the doorknob, turned it, and took her first intentional steps outside her apartment. The night air felt cool on her skin, and it filled her lungs with a sweet sensation. Though she lived in a city, she lived in a less populated area, one that was close to the wilderness. She decided that her best bet was to head for the woods, since she'll be least likely to run into anyone there. And so she went, off in the night, into the woods, a new woman.

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*A story from a different perspective, at a different time.*

Whatever Happened to Suburbia?

I remember the way things were before, the way they were supposed to be. Growing up, I was inundated with stories of my grandfathers and their fathers before them, and I was shown examples everyday by my own father, of what it meant to be a man. What it meant to be a husband and father, a provider for your family and a pillar of your community. I'm sure many would say this, but I come from a long line of great men, ones who never let the difficulties of life get in the way of what they knew was right. The way things are now, though, I'm glad my father isn't alive to see it.

I wish I could say exactly when things started to go south. On a larger scale, I don't think such a thing is possible to definitely say. Too many things in the background, too many things I'll never know. I can, however, say when things started to go wrong in my life, specifically. Twelve years ago, almost to the day, a year after my daughter was born.

From my perspective, the pregnancy and then birth of our child was rather typical. Sure, my wife had times where her hormones flared up, but they were sparse and she rarely let them bother me. She put on some weight during the pregnancy as well, but, again, that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. That first year, though, was tough for her. She struggled to take care of the baby on top of her usual duties, and, as a result of the extra stress, turned to food for comfort.

As the months stretched on and childcare wore her down, my wife found that a continuously decreasing amount of her pre-pregnancy clothes would fit her. Luckily she wasn't putting on too much weight, but even I was able to notice the extra flab around her thighs or jiggle in her belly. I didn't mind a softer woman, but I was secretly hoping that she wouldn't let her looks get any more impacted. After all, I worked hard to ensure my duties were fulfilled and still look attractive for my wife, so it's reasonable of me to expect the same from her.

Eventually we get to the day of my daughter's first birthday. I didn't want to throw a party since she was far too young to remember it, but my wife insisted, and after a rare bit of "convincing" I acquiesced.  We still kept it rather plain, but we ended up inviting both sets of parents as well as the block. When all was said and done, it was, in fact, quite the done-up to-do.

I had bought our home about a month or so prior to our daughter's conception, immediately after we returned from our honeymoon, so we were the youngest couple on our street. As much as I prefered to keep to myself, we still became acquainted with our neighbors. Rather, I became acquainted with the husbands, as my wife did with the other housewives. Most of them were reasonably friendly, and some even knew how to mind their own business. One, however (and there always seemed to be one), always had it at least a little better than everyone else and just loved to remind everyone of that in the most feigning friendliness imaginable - Mrs. Janice Dansly.

Mrs. Dansly's husband, Mr. Dansly, was a banker who was successful beyond the scope of a meager office worker such as myself. Why he bothered to live in the same neighborhood as us when he could easily afford a mansion ten times the size of my house I'll never know, but his financial wellbeing resulted directly in his missus being the envy of all the wives on the block, my own included. Many a night as I read the paper I'd be serenaded by the jealous ramblings of my wife, going on about how nice her car is, or how she's just getting back from the most incredible vacation, or how she throws the most extravagant parties with the most luxurious amenities, what have you.

I took no offense to her frequent comparisons to Mrs. Dansly or her lavish lifestyle. I worked as hard as I could each day to provide my wife with the life she has, and it was no moral or ethical failure of my own that I wasn't as materially successful as Mr. Dansly. Though I must say that there was one thing in his life I was jealous of, that being Mrs. Dansly herself. Despite having popped out four children before we moved in (and two more as of this writing), she never let motherhood negatively impact her figure. If anything, based on pictures I've seen, she's somehow managed to become more youthful and vibrant over the years, looking even younger than my wife despite assuredly being older.

My eyes may linger on her, but I would never break my fidelity to my wife. We both made vows on our wedding day, and it went against everything I believed to be true to break those vows. That being said, I never vowed to not look. After all, both she and my wife had the same number of hours in the day. If one managed to stay trim for her husband, surely the other could.

Regardless, on the day of my daughter's first birthday, my wife managed to forget her insecurities for a moment and get drunk on the festivity. That is, of course, until the Danslys make their appearance. The mister found me straightway and invited me to smoke a celebratory cigar with him, one veteran father with a rookie who managed to survive his first year. I couldn't help myself, but as I walked out with him I caught a glimpse of his wife out of the corner of my eye. She was heading towards my wife, whose smile was already falling into a frown, and I decided to indulge myself in a prolonged look as I followed Mr. Dansly out.

She was as gorgeous as ever, trim and narrow, standing at a perfect 5'1" in her 2" heels. Her blonde curls fell carelessly (but you knew how deeply she cared) to her shoulders, dancing and bobbing as she moved and laughed.  Her blue eyes shone oh so brightly, her smile wide as it showed her perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. Yes, she was as beautiful now as she was the day before, as she was every other time I saw her. And yet, though I couldn't place it at the time, something seemed different about her. Something that was imperceptible to me, as I hadn't been taught to look for it yet, not in a woman at the very least. I knew she looked good, but I knew something was different about her. It didn't make her look worse, but I wouldn't have said it made her look better either. As my brain started to blow steam trying to solve this puzzle, I felt Mr. Dansly's hand on my shoulder, his jovial look reminding me that we had made an appointment to celebrate.

***

"It says it's a weight gain supplement. Honey, I don't mean any offense by this, but you don't exactly need any help with that."

"I know what it says on the ad, but Janice assured me it helps you lose weight too. Plus, they offer two free bottles with the purchase of one, and a full refund to all three if we don't like the results, so it's hardly a financial risk for us."

I mulled my wife's words over as I sat in my chair in the den. Apparently, my wife had got to talking with Mrs. Dansly about how she kept the weight off so easily, and after a bit of prodding she admitted to using a supplement. I think it was called Testapram or something.  My wife had made a good point about the money, but I still couldn't wrap my head around how an alleged weight gain aid could help with losing it.

"How quickly are you meant to see results on it? As in, how soon will we know it it's working?"

"Janice said if I stick to the regimen and my usual routine, I'll start to see results in a month. So, after we finish one bottle."

A month, eh? It didn't seem like a very long time, especially if she doesn't have to go out of her way to diet or exercise more.

"Show me the ad again. I want to see if there's any fine print you missed."

My wife handed me the magazine cutout Mrs. Dansly had given her after the party had ended. I scoured it, reading it up and down, looking for anything that betrayed it as a grift. After ten minutes of such, I handed the page back to my wife with an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. I suppose we can buy some for you, if you think it'll make you happy. Just promise me that if you start to feel funny while you're on it you'll stop. And if nothing changes after a month I'm going to get my money back."

"Oh, thank you so much, dear! I promise, it's going to help."

How little I knew at the time...

***

The first month had finally concluded. My work, coincidentally, had kept me in the office longer than usual with early mornings and late nights. I ended up leaving for work most mornings before my wife got up and getting home after she went to sleep. As a result, I couldn't say on any of the days leading up to the final one if this "miracle pill" had done its job. Though I had specified that we'd judge the results on the last day of the month, we decided to wait a few days extra until the weekend. That way we'd actually be awake at the same time, among other reasons. Based on how chipper my wife had sounded over the last month from the few times we did talk, I was expecting tangible results.

Come Saturday morning, I found a note on my bedside table and a vacancy in the bed where my wife usually is. The note instructed me to do my usual morning routine and to take a seat in the den when I was done. I tried my best to play it cool, but, I must admit, I was excited to see what she accomplished in a month.

Just as the excitement was about to boil over in me, I hear footsteps from the basement, followed quickly by the basement door opening. As she rounded the corner, I got my first good look at her in a month. My wife's face was pressed into a self-impressed smile, a look I've never seen on her before. Her skin looked absolutely radiant, and it made her look even younger than she already was. Her light auburn hair was curled in a style similar to Mrs. Dansly's from a month ago, though not quite as practiced. And the rest of her... well it was a mystery, as she was wrapped in a luxurious robe I'd never seen before. I raised my eyebrow as I was about to ask where it was from when she cut it off.

"The robe is new. I hope you don't mind. Just think of this as a gift, and the robe as the wrapping paper. I promise you'll like what's underneath."

Her coy playful voice, mixed with that incredible confidence, was enough to get my lower body stirring. She never acted this way before, and I was surprised to see how much I liked it!

"Well then, don't keep me waiting any longer. Show yourself off."

With a sly grin, my wife removed the robe, revealing her body, nude save for the skimpy bikini she used to wear when we were dating. I couldn't believe my eyes. I scanned her up and down, looking for a flaw, and I couldn't find any. Every single extra pound she put on during her pregnancy and afterwards - gone! Not just that, but she looked even slimmer than she used to. Her cream-white skin looked so flat and taut.

I couldn't hold myself back anymore and sprung to my feet. With three steps I closed the distance between us and took her in my arms. It felt like it had been forever since I had done this last, to the point where I had forgotten about our relative heights. It had always been my great shame that I only stood 5'7" tall, though to compensate I tried to keep myself at the athletic 150 pounds I had been all throughout my sport career in high school and college. My wife, on the otherhand, claimed to be 5'5", but I would swear she was 5'6". The husband was supposed to be taller than the wife, so one of the rules I had set was that she couldn't wear heels at any time, or wear shoes at all while I was barefoot. A glance down her legs confirmed that her feet were as bare as mine, and yet, as I held her tightly, she felt tall in my arms.

Truth be told, though, while this may have bothered me on any other day, today I couldn't care less. We didn't even make it back to the bedroom as I started expressing my approval, my wife seeming more into the deed than ever before. It was long, and it was passionate, and when we were done we laid on the floor of the den, covered only by her robe.

I turned over and smiled at her, taking in my wife's visage again. After what felt like an eternity of us smiling at one another, she finally spoke.

"So, I take it you like the results?"

"Enamored with them."

"Can I stay on the pills?"

"I'll divorce you if you stop."

She giggled at my joke, kissed me deeply, and got up. It was about time to feed the baby, and we had a whole day ahead of ourselves.

***
The days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and then eventually years. At no point did my wife stop taking the Testapram, though three years into the process was when I finally started to notice something... unintended.

It was a summer day, and my wife and daughter were spending some time outside while I enjoyed some time alone in my study. My daughter was likely doing something girls did when they were young before they knew what it meant to be a lady, while her mother was tending to her garden. After an hour or so, I heard the back door creak open while the little one shrieked with joy for having spent some quality time outside. Usually I would keep reading while the two of them got settled back inside, but I decided to break my routine and greet my wife at the door. It was a hot one today, and I'm sure the both of them would appreciate being handed a pair of glasses of cold water.

Before I got to the water, I reached down for my little girl, picked her up, and gave her a small spin in the air. She had turned four a few weeks ago, and though she was still small she was definitely getting big. I probably only had a couple more years before I couldn't pick her up as easily.

"Did you have a nice time with your mommy outside?"

"Mhm! She showed me all the plants she has. I love the blue flowers the most!"

"They're called Blue Bells, dear," my wife corrected, patient as ever. I put our child down and went to greet her, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close. "Honey! I'm all sweaty from being outside, you'll get it all on yourself."

I didn't know what got into me, but I was simply excited to hold my wife for the time being. "Oh, I wouldn't care if you were soaking wet. It's been agony in here without you. Maybe tomorrow when you garden I'll join you."

She rolled her eyes while smiling at me, clearly not believing that I'd actually join her outside. Though she was eager to break the embrace and dry herself off, I wanted to keep it going for just a moment longer. As I did, I took stock of where I was holding her, her upper arms, and noticed that they felt different than I remember. A quizzical look came upon my face as I ran my hands up and down her arms, and before long I was able to piece together that what I was feeling were muscles in my wife's arms.

"What are these," I asked, my tone a mixture of gentleness and confusion. I knew it wasn't uncommon for mothers to get a little stronger as they raised children, what with having to keep up with them and all, but I wasn't sure how I felt about my wife, in particular, having muscles. It's not like they were particularly visible, but the fact that I could feel them now, how hard they were, was a bit off-putting.

"Oh, it's nothing. I suppose I've gotten a bit stronger from so much gardening, and housework. Plus, keeping up with Candice is occasionally strenuous."

I kept my eyebrow cocked as she spoke, my hands finally releasing her arms. "Are you sure? I don't want you getting any bright ideas about getting stronger than me. I'm the man of the house, after all, and muscles belong to men." I tried to keep my tone light, but my face must have betrayed how concerned I actually was.

My wife took a step closer to me, her face betraying nothing but sincerity, as she replied, "I promise, my heart, you have nothing to worry about."

I looked in her eyes as I listened, my mind slowly processing her words. As I nod in ascent, showing that I believed her, I couldn't help but notice that, even though we were both barefoot, I didn't have to look down to look into her eyes.

*to be continued*

[nickolai]

Very interested in seeing the relative strength and "power" dynamics change in the relationship.  Interesting that the wife's changes in the first month were considerable enough for the husband to notice changes yet it took another three years for him to notice how strong her arms had become.  Would have thought in three years she would have the physique of a 6'3" Kim Chizevsky with 15x-20x his strength.