Author: [lowerbase] The Unfair Game | #HG #FMG #Mature

[Fluff]

Hear hear!

[lowerbase]

...


In the office's lunchroom, the TV was preaching the new gospel. I drunk my espresso while watching it. At least it wasn't Hillary Clinton addressing the nation for the third term election again.

"What keeps your marriage going?"
 
A 61-year-old blond amazon with the tag 'biceps: 25 and 1/2 inches' replied with a wide smile at her seated husband just below her line of her impressive bust, "we are in opposite directions at life right now. The reality is that I'm earning the double I've made the last year, while for him, no one hires a man of his age. If it was difficult for him to cope, it is always getting harder. I have a bright future ahead of me. He only has me. He cannot walk alone at night without a lady protecting him. Or going anywhere before my consent. He was already weak and meek in his 40s, now any of my lady friends could kill him with a jostle. Unlike my daughters, he is each day more dependable on me, which is a blessing and a curse. Like caretaking a baby, I can't just forget about him, or his feelings, that my constant, abundant development makes him feel less of a man. I have to be remindful all the time that the man that I love is with me. At times while gathering my lovers to my bed, I have to restrain myself not to scream or break things as he would just start to cry alone. Such a downer. He just can't be happy for me for having a delicious meal, his old male manners and pride are still in there. Every time I had to remember him that I'm a 6'11 tall lady with more hormones than a class full of boys. He can't handle even my breast size," the female audience chuckled as she glanced down at the perfect soccer-ball spheres bursting out from her tight top, "and they will only get bigger with time while his weak male body becomes weaker. As they grow old, men have to stop looking after themselves but only look up at their wifes, sisters, and mothers instead. A man who wants to keep his wife must love needs to love each of her achievements as his own because there is nothing else for them." The camera panned over her muscular warrior body, and the TV screen filled up with her skin shimmering with vigor as parts of her body bulged with size and pride pneumatically. "He needs to adore the fact that his wife is only going to go higher, and to love every inch of her journey to power." The camera framed her beautiful face, her sharp jaws and her eyes projecting blind certainties, "all I want from my dear hubby is his admiration. All of it. And just for me and no one else," she tensed her 25 and 1/2 ball of biceps to him, making veins to sprout and his eyes unable to escape from them, "that's the most powerful lady aphrodisiac that there is, his gazes of wonder. The more my hubby admires me today, more he will admire me tomorrow, because there will be more of me every day, every week,  every year, and every decade, for the rest of our lives."

The amazon host lightly applauded the amazonian lady host with her mic, "alrighty then! Can I ask your husband some questions?" The blond amazon nodded the permission.

"Hi, David. Cassandra used to be shorter than you before the Firebird. Do you think your wife changed inside?"

He looked up at his wife like an imperious mother, "go ahead," she said as her eyes gave him a reassuring push, the beautiful towering blonde raised her eyebrow waiting for the right answer.

He took her hand, "nothing. Inside she's the same sweet person she ever was. The same one I've dated and fell in love, her favorite movie still is Bridges of Madison. My Salmon Teriyaki is still her favorite dish." the female audience fawned at that. "The world that has changed. That's all. It is easier for us men to adapt since it is not us that is changing. It is them. What we can only do is to stop and then support our counterpart to arise over these new challenges. We love each other, and I don't mind to share my wife with the world. She deserves to be appreciated not only by me but by anyone she wishes. It is just fair. Well, it is not like I can stop her anyway," the female audience laughed.

The muscular host looked at him skeptically, "but why she still has to 'control herself,' David? What happens to you when she gets too wild with other lovers under the same roof? Why are you such a crybaby?" The audience laughed once more. "A single man can't satisfy a lady like your wife. You should know that by now."

"I can't make her happy by myself, yes. It is not her fault. I… cry for me not to be there." The female audience gave a collective aww as his wife took his smaller hands in soothing pity.

"That's right," said the host. "We ladies were always extremely sexual, only now we can spill that out. More sexuality than any woman before the Firebird, but our heart becomes softer as it grows stronger. David here is a good understanding husband, knows that his diminishing place in his marriage is compensated tenfold by the success of his soulmate, bringing him a successful relationship in times where divorce rates for older couples are nearly 90%."   

Jeb, a co-worker, walked to my side. He avoided coffee, sugar, anything that would hurt his good looks and gym-conscious body. "Hey, Richard, my man, how are you doing? It has been a great day. Beautiful day. Look at the sky, beautiful sky. How can anyone be down with a sunset like this? Heads up, man. Life is brilliant."

Obviously, Jeb was going to give me bad news. He was Donna's favorite for the month, on his fours spending his work hours beneath her desk, between her strong thighs, pleasing her. That meant he had access to information the rest of us didn't have.

"I heard the ladies talking about removing the cubicle walls, is that right?" I asked him.

"Sure, they can't even fit in them to supervise us anymore. Think of it as open space. We guys don't need that much privacy," Jeb said already defending the ladies new policies, bewitched by the allure of their bodies. "Open offices are more much efficient and transparent. More collaborative. More fun."

An open office was just more comfortable for the ladies to boss from their big executive chairs at a distance. Donna's glass walls of her office were just before the outside of my cubicle. Every day I'd see the masses of her muscles fighting for space when she crossed legs, always in sheer nylon to gather her muscles more attention. Colorful ones when she was happy and pleased, darker when Donna didn't want us near her. It was dangerous to leer into them. Without my cubicle wall how I'll ever be able to concentrate? Always in my view? I'll be fired so soon.

"By the way, Ms.Shields decided to audit the inventory again, by purchase order this time," Jeb said.

That would never fill the gap in the spreadsheets, yet I said nothing. I was a coward. "It will take us a full week to starting to sort it out. Did she asked specifically for me?"

"No… I'll be off for the annual Paris conference. Bill and Jake to personally assist her as well. So… it has to be you. Sorry."

Assist. Right. Jake couldn't spot Paris on a map. Young, uneducated and stupid just as Bill, the newest trainee, just twenty years old. Anyone there was better than me. I always treated her fairly since I recommended her for a lower position years ago after a frustrated date with her. She needed this job, and I helped her. Donna never acknowledged me for it... maybe because the whole date went sour once I met her rival and much older sister when I picked her.

Besides, she used to have a whiny nasal voice that used to drive me nuts. Her voice became deeper, penetrating and sultry, smoky now with her empowering chest, arousing me by her voice alone on the office phone. 

Yes. To this day I think what would have happened if I dated Donna, and started a relationship, nurtured her development towards the fierce executive she is today. She was everything I would want in a lady, and I let it slip for a sly chance to fuck her big powerful sister, who just tossed me aside when I advanced on her. My worst life decision.

Jeb and I felt a vibration in the office.

"There they go," Jeb pointed up to a forgotten glass of water resting on the table. The circular rings in water were like a T-Rex approaching indeed. They were coming down from the executive's gym in the ground level. All of us could feel the small tremors under the rug, the office windows rattling from the massive tonnage these ladies could pull. Most of the top level execs were in their 60s and 70s goddess range, absurdly superhuman strong, we called them the Iron Maidens. No people were allowed inside the gym as it could be fatal. Not even the hardest metal rods endured their increasing strength. Men would watch and cheer from the cafeteria the ladies' spectacle, like groupies.

I didn't know if it was a reminder for whom was in charge or was either to entice us. Every Friday before the happy hour, the Iron Maidens would get together and measure each other in either size, physical strength and celebrate afterward, choosing which fuckboys to party in clubs and then to bring them home, perhaps for the weekend. Or to become a Personal Assistant, like Jake and Bill, the only thing they are to be good for, their cocks and tongue. 

Most female employees didn't dare to enter that gym unless they are at least 6'10 and built like a tank, or to lift a tank. The Iron Maidens were an exclusive group. Women didn't resent their exclusivity, as they all knew their time would come to join.

All of them but my boss, that while big, was still in her early thirties, just some inches higher than me. It was a long wait for her to join the club of power execs.

When I met her by common friends, Donna had many doubts about her future. Donna felt that ladies made men act like crazy assholes and said that she didn't want to be a part of it. Somewhere between then and now gave her a change of heart. Her softer side melted along with her chubbiness, as her muscles were growing not only she was 'part of it', Donna was 'it'.

Speaking of the devil, we both heard Donna's deep voice behind us, "you…"

There she was walking to us, her Hugo Boss stilettos clicking on the hard floor making her fishnet stockings of enduring the shifting mass of her quads, each big as my waist. She always seemed more massive to me, growing faster than any woman I've met before. Donna had the natural talent to build muscles. While Donna was still 6'2, her shoes added 9 inches to her, making my nose as high as her breastbone. It was impossible for me not to travel my eyes around the sheer blouse she was wearing, also see-through on her sleeves to let her twenty inches guns exposed for men to watch and drool.

"To my office," she said crossing us without even glancing at us.

"Right away, Ms.Shields," Jeb said tightening his tie.

"Not you. Richard." She said walking between the cubicles, inspecting her employees as she entered the glass walls of her grand office.

I looked at Jeb as the automatic curtains inside of her office closed. My palms were sweating. "Here, bring her Ristretto, and the mint. And cream. Take these biscotti too, she likes to crunch them," and he handed me the tray loaded with napkins and all he could remember. I thanked Jeb as my heart pounded. I wasn't prepared for this.

The last time I entered Donna's office, she didn't need to pretend that Bill wasn't beneath her desk, with his mouth locked in her juices. She just signed the papers while I could see his head bobbing in and out slowly and rhythmically. "Anything else?" Donna then asked me as her muscular forearm twitched with veins and her fists clenched on the papers as Bill worked faster, galloping towards the sweet spot. I could only marvel at her eyes shut making her serious muscles harder and stiffer surging against her constricting clothes. She was destined to be BIG, and she knew it. No one was that big and so damning strong so young.

I asked him, "Jeb, how can you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Be so calm and cool when Ms.Shields addresses you like she's not building that much muscle so fast. Her clothes are always near tearing apart."

"I used to melt like butter, but after having sex with a 65-year old, it changed everything. Once you witness the earthquake orgasm of a 400lbs amazon, you will see life differently. Its… Heaven's Gate. Now go, Ms.Shields hates not to be obeyed instantly."

I carried the tray as I felt my co-workers eyeing me as I approached Donna's secretary. He just acknowledged me and the automatic double doors to her office opened for me to pass.

The doors locked behind me.

With the curtains closed, the sunset seemed brighter, shining over her junior bodybuilding trophies and pictures of her with influential people. I've been told that Donna was receiving a six-figure salary, two zeroes more than my figure. Her career offshoot was indeed meeting her ambitions faster than she could ever hope to anticipate.

Her elbows were resting on the glass table, supporting her head, watching me to walk closer. That day she was wearing fishnet stockings, enhancing the volumes of muscles on89 her legs. "Thanks, Richard," she said taking the biscotti, and her strong jaw crunched its hardness loudly without dipping into the coffee first. "Seat," she said without any emotion.     
 
I took the small chair at the center of her big office, and then I heard the heavy stiletto pumps to fall on the carpet. "I love this shoes, but my feet not so much," she said massaging her beautiful foot with her thumbs on its arch, waiting for a response from me on her cue.

I was paralyzed. Part of me wanted to 'assist' my boss, and crawl to her and make her feet to feel better. The other side of made me unsure if it would backfire and she would crush me for inappropriate behavior in the office, as the law permits.

Donna chuckled at my indecision and brought her legs to her table, making her chair to groan as Donna shifted her position. "I saw your MIA scores, Richard." She said taking a sip of her super hot coffee.   

If I was sweating then, I was drenching my shirt now. "They're… supposed to be private information, Ms.Shields."

"Information that is harmful to the company is not private, Richard. You have the lowest MIA score in the office." 

"It… doesn't affect my performance, Ms.Shields."

She stood up and walked between her table and me, barefooted, and rested on it. Her legs rippled in muscle flexed her quads more, stretching her fishnet along her huge smooth muscles. Putting her coffee aside, Donna started flexing her lats, and suddenly she seemed to double in size. I felt myself losing control at such vision. At such simple demonstration of power. I was that weak, that's what my MIA scores represented. My lack of self-control near ladies.

Donna chuckled watching me contorting like a horny worm with little convulsions as I orgasmed against my will.

"You know, Richard. Men like you have only two attitudes with strong ladies like me, or they always tell the truth, or they only lie to get out of the trouble. Which one are you?" She flexed her arms, bulging them and pumping them more making me hard again.

I couldn't talk. My mind was foggy from desire. All I could see was her muscles flexing and unflexing, imagining just how strong she was, and how quickly these same muscles could dig into my flesh and bones and snap it. Fear and desire walked side by side with these ladies.

Donna crossed her arms bringing her muscular chest deepening her cleavage, "surely it is better to know you better. Men… how can you even concentrate on the task at hand with muscles like these around the office, Richard?" She said gesturing to her awesomely muscular body.

I was still squirming. That was so fucking humiliating. 

"How can you even address to your superiors in this pathetic state, Richard?" She pressed me, Donna had no compassion or patience, "you are witnessing my muscles getting bigger, and they're just starting their own journey, how will you be able to look your boss in the eyes ever then? Will you melt like a bubbling idiot each time you take a peek at my body? Do you know how uncomfortable it feels like for my colleagues and me to deal with weak minded people like you?"

I was unable to respond. It was so true.

"Does your mother know about your condition?"

Out of fear, I couldn't lie to her even if I wanted, "yes."

"She has lacked her responsibilities then. Should I have to talk to her?"

"No! Please, Ms.Shields. She's… thinking I'm getting better."

"I'll test you now and then, Richard. You shall better control yourself to deserve a place in this company." 

"Yes, Ms.Shields."

"Now, pick up my shoes."

"What?"

"Are you also deaf?"

"Sorry… I…" I crawled to the side of her table where she had dropped her black and shiny stilettos and carried them to her. It was much sturdy than they look, made of metal instead of only leather. That's why they sound so loud as these ladies walk.

Donna just extended her leg to me, expanding her bulging calves with a moderate flex hardening them until her veins were apparent in her fishnet stockings. I find myself trembling, trying to fit her shoe onto her beautifully extended foot. I was fighting another imminent orgasm.

"It is a simple task, Richard. If you can't do it, I'll fire you on the spot and you'd never find another work without my recommendation."

Like a Jedi, I concentrated on the task at hand, doing my best to ignore the sexual urges her body inflicted on my being. The ladies had no compassion towards my kind, at most they think that being harsh with me was 'building my character', but I still think these ladies get off on guys like me to make them feel instantly better about themselves.     

The Hugo Boss shoes fit like a glove into her foot, which seemed dainty and gracious near the web of muscles just above it. With that fatal look, the stilettos made it look like a sexy weapon.

She didn't acknowledge my efforts as I put the second shoe, and Donna stood up over me with them. Looking up at her, I couldn't tell she was amused or was considerating to stomp on me like a cockroach.

Ms. Shield crunched her biscuits dry, making a terrifying noise as she moved her strong jaws against it, "you have a month to bring down your MIA scores. Then we'll talk about your future in this company. Otherwise, you'll be terminated by inappropriate behavior, and that will end your career for life. Do you understand, Richard?"

"Yes, Ms.Shields." 

"Now, leave. Tell Jeb I need his services me before he leaves."

"Yes, Ms.Shields."

Accustomed to this situations, I had a spare set of pants in my cubicle. In the bathroom, I cleaned my face, and Jake entered it. "Hey, man, Ms.Shields called you into her office. Are you still with us?"

"I'm still here."

"Oh, good. Donna is something, huh? I'd say she's ten years too early in her development. Donna has the body of a 50-year old already. Insane. Can you imagine her with 60? 70? Her strength, God. One day a guy tried to rob me, you know, there are plenty of them out there. He had a pocket knife saying that he was going to slash me if I didn't drop the bag… which was Ms. Shield's shopping bag, and I was holding it for her. When she sees him…"

"Jesus. Did she killed him?"

"I'm not sure. We didn't stay too long to find out. I saw one of his eyes busted by the concussion. It doesn't matter what happened to him. It was self-defense. He had a knife."

"Self-defense? What a pocket knife could do to Ms.Shields?"

"She's still flesh and blood. What's your point, Richard? Donna saved me. I owe her my life."

"It was a dude with a pocket knife, Jake. Maybe desperate for food. There are a lot of men like him on the streets."

"Yeah. Someone should just end their misery anyways. Donna is the most caring and thoughtful person I know. How could you dare to imply she would hurt someone on purpose? Do you have any idea what a woman like Donna could do to a guy like you or me? Huh? How many men the Butcheress of Clearwater killed? 300? She brought down three buildings in her carnage. The Butcheress was just 65 years old before they knocked her down. Donna wouldn't use her muscles to hurt a fly unless it wants to bite her. Ms.Shields never raised her voice to me, even when she wants me to know she's upset. She never really hurt me."

"Okay, Jake. I hear you. Donna is sweet and nice."

"What's up with that attitude? You won't go any far in life acting like this. You are thirty years old, dude. Your window to catch a wife is closing, and you aren't doing yourself any favors. Look at you. You are thin but all flabby. Where are your abs? When was the last time you played some sport or even lifted?"

"I don't have time to develop abs, Jake."

"The ladies just want stamina, dude. They have a clinical eye for it. Once they see you got it, they will just take you. And maybe you'll learn the right attitude. Athletic sex needs some maximum conditioning. Do you know this right? How can you please a lady with a body like yours? How many miles do you run each week?"

"None."

He glanced at my soft belly and my arms devoided of any muscular charm.

"Oh, man… don't you ever dream to have sex with a lady? Must be all the time, huh? Do you know what takes for Athletic Sex?" Damn twenty-years-old who think that know it all. Jake was build like a seasoned surfer, the preferred kind of body the ladies want. The only reason of his hiring. 

"What I need to do, Jake?"

"Avoid booze, fat, soft drinks, sugar, irregular sleep, porn, bars, weed, games, TV, seating on internet, and devote your body and mind for better sex. Drink a lot of water, stay hydrated, and then you jog some five miles every day, wearing an elevation mask helps to build more resistance." 

"Five miles? Sundays too?"

"On Sundays, I do ten, Richard. That's what makes my services wanted."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, but it pays back big time. There are very few things in life worse than an unsatisfied lady. I can prescribe you a killing diet and the latest exercises to get in shape for athletic sex. I just discovered about this hips exercise. You need a better core. Ms.Shields saw that exercise in a magazine and requested that I'd add it to my routine, my butt now is tight they way she likes, and my performance got stellar. You should try."

"Maybe next time." Those who didn't have the stamina to handle a lady, had to open their wallets with absurdly expensive gifts. I didn't have either. I needed one of those two. There are huge lists of shores that men should do to keep up with a lady: penis exercises, cooking classes, culingullus courses, floss, the list was endless, "have you… ever had sex with a very advanced lady, Jake?"

"I'm alive… so would guess not," he joked, "I know my limits, above 70, only a team of olympic rowers can keep up with such power lady. Besides, it is like playing with dynamite, not only they might crush you in a deadly orgasm, ladies of that caliber can get sexually frustrated like this" Jeb snapped his fingers, "and then your ribs…" he compressed his plastic cup slowly, making it crack and crumble inside of his fist. "You have to know your limits."

"Do you have an advanced lady in your family?"

"My grandma is 75…" I noticed Jake becoming uncomfortable in the pants, "the tallest lady I've ever seen. She's Australian, and she used to be big boned before the Firebird."

"Holy shit, how do you manage that?"

"Well, she spends most of her time traveling the world, I only see her on Christmas. But my MIA scores are pretty low. I can be in her presence long enough without losing my nuts. She met this super rich guy who let her destroy his ancient castles in Europe. He has a collection of them, he doesn't even care anymore about them. Crazy. They filmed her lifting boulders of the size of a car and hurled them into those ruins. You know how women are, the stronger they get, the more they want crush bigger things."

"Castles?"

"Yeah, I'll send a link later. It might even become a TV special, and she'll be famous."

"Your MIA scores were always low?"

"No. Of course not. My MIA went down and controlled myself better after a session with an old friend of mom's. She helped most guys of my family to deal better with it. It was years ago. Why? How your score is doing?"

"It is fine," I said finishing the conversation. "Under control."

"Really?" Jake noticed I was carrying an extra pair of pants.

I knew what I needed to do to keep my work. I have to bed at least a 60-year-old advanced lady, who mostly behaved like almighty divas. But how? Whom?


...

[nickolai]

Yes!! You are back with us!  What an awesome surprise!!

[Rs34]

Great stuff as always! I tought you would give up on this great story!

[mermoz]

Hello I really like the developpment of the story. The feeling of the boss towards the hero shows that she knows that she owe him her position (partly) and she does not accept that. So she will be rude with him. I like the way the fellow of the hero defend his mistress saying that when she hit a thief it was légitime defense and that she is a sweet personality. The way she hit once a guy and let him half dead or more without thinking further about him is great too. The relation of the episode as something banal by q third person emphasize the contempt of the boss for men, and the way they accept her utterly superiority.
In short words your story is really great. Thank you and please forget my poor English.

[Jaguar]

Great story Lowerbase!  I'm really enjoying this, I'm another of those who particularly like the flashbacks to the early days of the transformations.  But it is all good. 

Just in general, you have a great way of thinking up new story lines and new worlds.

Fellow READERS:  On Karma, everyone of us should click 'applaud' on stories we like so that authors know they're appreciated (and so they get the Karma they deserve).  Giving karma is anonymous, but you have to register. 

You can make up a second email address on hotmail, gmail, or other web-based email service, and then your registration and associated email is concealed, unless you specifically go and sign-on to that second email account.  You have privacy from your significant other.  So there is no reason not to register and give karma.

BTW, I always 'applaud' a story I like.  If the story is particularly good, I'll go back and applaud it a few times (waiting the required hour in between).  However, I've noticed sometimes that sometimes the votes don't stick.

AUTHORS: I think a better measure for authors of how good a story is is how many reads it gets as more chapters are added on.  If people are coming back to read more, they must have liked what they read so far.

[nickolai]

Would love to get a little side taste / story of that link of Jake's 75 year old grandma's and maybe others' feats - watching her launching 5-10 ton boulders at castles.  When out of boulders she probably marches up to the castle, cracking and rumbling the pathway on her way, to finish the job with her bare hands. 

I think you even mentioned there was a park or something like that were people watched women perform boggling feats of strength with their ridiculously strong bodies.