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Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  Authors Now Publishing Their Books
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Author Topic: Authors Now Publishing Their Books  (Read 79052 times)

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #210 on: December 20, 2021, 10:02:32 pm »
I second that.
Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

Forum Saradas

Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #210 on: December 20, 2021, 10:02:32 pm »

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #211 on: January 03, 2022, 10:11:34 pm »
Something a little crazier!

Time is on Our Side
Marv is exhausted. His project just succeeded and his team managed to send a guinea pig to the past and get it back! At the same time, his girlfriend is breaking up with him. If things had been different, that would have worked out. Guess who has a time machine?
This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, breast expansion and time travel. All characters are at least 18 years old.

It's strange and weird and I really tried to make it consistent.

Get it here:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1124782



The preview:

The thrumming of the machines was filling the air. Indicators were blinking, needles on gauges were shaking and dancing, and the readouts on the screens were racing by. The backup printer, an ancient, but honorable dot matrix printer cranked out the status of the various devices. Sriram snipped his fingers at Marvin.

“Hey, Marv, you still there?”

Marvin shook out of his sudden stupor. Despite the promising situation, he was feeling exhausted and frustrated. They had worked on the project for months, no, years, and it was looking as if it would be a success, and still, he felt depressed.

“Sorry. Sorry, I was … Yeah. Anyway. What … Okay.”

He walked over to the controls and said:

“I’m alright. Everything is … fine. Let’s get this party started.”

He took the guinea pig from its cage, caressed it carefully and whispered:

“Everything is going to be fine, Geronimo.”

The guinea pig seemed relaxed. He set it into the box and nodded at Sriram.

“Looks good. We can give it a try.”

“Alright. Coordinates are set. System is ready. Target control is prepared.”

Marvin looked at the second, smaller box next to the first. If the button ended up being pressed, it was a proof the process worked.

Sriram counted down:

“Five, four, three, two and … Go!”

The machines crackled and buzzed. There was a strange vibration going through the room, something that felt like a wave rearranging the organs of all people who were present. The other lab techs, who were tucked away on the gallery, safe from any strange effects, looked down carefully.

Then everything stopped.

The lights flickered and went out for a second, before coming back online. The printer started printing again and there was a brief moment of confusion. Someone asked:

“Did it work?”

Marvin walked over to the bigger box and opened the lid. Geronimo looked at him. He took the guinea pig out, examined it and said:

“It looks fine.”

Sriram was getting a little twitchy.

“Yeah, no problem. But did it work?”

“Check it, please.”

The other lab technicians crowded around them. Sriram examined the seals.

“They look untouched. Let’s open it, shall we?”

Everybody held their breaths as he broke the seals. He lifted the lid. Inside, there was a button. It had been pressed and was now glowing red. The gate that connected the small box to the big one was closed.

“Wow. Wow! Fuck yeah!”

“Did it work?”

“Is it okay?”

“I can’t see!”

“What is going on?”

“Are we lucky?”

“Success?”

“It worked!”

“It fucking worked!”

“Yes! Fucking yes!”

“Holy moly …”

“Geronimo! You’re my hero!”

The crowd of scientists was cheering. People embraced, kissed, screamed happily … Geronimo was getting his share of caresses until he only wanted back into his cage.

Someone went to get the champagne.

Sriram took Marvin aside:

“Hey, you don’t look happy at all … What’s up with you? You were okay yesterday, back when they threatened to cut our funding unless we produced a success. Now we’ve got it and you look down.”

The head scientist, a man in his late twenties, a bit of a prodigy, took off his glasses and sighed:

“It’s Lara. She broke up with me.”

“Shit. Why?”

“She said I wasn’t into her anymore. I never had any time for her lately …”

“I thought she understood? I mean, she was literally in the same room when Francis told you about the new deadlines.”

Marvin groaned:

“Yeah … I think she understood that. That was okay with her. She was willing to wait, I guess. But then … Look, I’d been under a lot of stress.”

“We all were. Seriously, everyone here wondered how you even managed to have a relationship next to this chaos.”

“Hm. I’m not even sure I still had one. Anyway, we talked and I probably said a couple of things that were kinda stupid.”

Sriram grumbled.

“Man, Marvin, you need to get your shit together when you talk to women. You just keep …”

He was cut off by someone entering the room.

 

It was Ada. She worked at the biotech department down the hall and somehow seemed to have an innate sense of detecting parties. Also, she was a short, plumpish, raven-haired girl with big glasses and even bigger boobs that just enjoyed being around the physicists.

“What’s the big commotion, boys?”

Everybody tried to explain it at once, but she just cut through the noise, got herself some champagne in a mug that looked like a Ferengi head and asked Marvin and Sriram:

“I know you tried to explain it to me once, but what did you actually do?”

Sriram looked at Marvin, trying to figure out whether his colleague was actually willing to talk. Marvin downed his cup of champagne (a mug that said “Great, now I don’t know where I am!”) and groaned. Sriram shrugged and said:

“Okay, so basically, we built a time machine.”

Marvin growled:

“It’s not a time machine! It just rearranges the past!”

“It’s a time machine, really. We had Geronimo, that’s the guinea pig, travel to the past and push a button in a sealed box we haven’t opened in half a year. He pushed the button, got back in the transport box and got back to our time.”

“Seriously? That’s amazing! Does it only work on guinea pigs?”

“Hard to say. It was our first real test with a mammal. We sent some ants and they did make a couple of footprints in the target box, but that wasn’t all that conclusive …”

“Sooo … could you kill Hitler?”

Sriram shrugged:

“Not with this setup, anyway. The thing is, the planet is constantly moving. It’s also spinning pretty fast. And there’s a lot of complications with the actual positions. We can move something back in time, but we have to move the stuff that’s in the position of where it is supposed to have been out of the way.”

Ada blinked:

“Supposed to have been?”

“If we move Geronimo into a place in the past and there’s something there, they’re going to collide. Air is pretty tough, solid things … are deadly. What I’m saying is, there’s a lot of computing required to make this work. So unless you can get Hitler into this room half a year ago, it’s not going to work.”

“Mhm. Not an option, then?”

“Nope. Also, changing the past is dangerous. Even with Geronimo just pressing a button in a bland box …”

Marvin elbowed in, took the bottle and emptied it into his own cup.

“Fuck this!”

He grabbed another bottle and stumbled off.

Ada asked Sriram:

“What’s with him? Shouldn’t he be happy?”

“Lara broke up with him. He’s taking it pretty badly.”

The young woman sighed:

“That’s bad. I probably shouldn’t annoy him right now, but please, look after him.”

Sriram nodded vaguely. Right now, he wanted to celebrate!

 

Marvin sat in the archive room and stared at the wall. Actually, he was staring at some shelves full of files, simply because there was no free wall space in the room. It was crammed to the brim with papers, boxes of printouts and random stuff that had just been deposited here over the years. It was difficult to clean the place out, simply because a lot of the devices (if they actually were something functional) had long since lost their creators and no one could tell for sure what they actually were and what they were for.

By now, the young man was pretty drunk. The bottle he had picked up later on was now mostly empty too, with only a thin layer of alcohol remaining. The rest of the gang had cleared out to the pizza joint next door, probably to eat some cheap food and even cheaper wine.

The whole complex was now very, very silent. There was still an occasional beep or the hum of some machine, but there were no human noises anymore.

Marvin groaned.

He had fucked this up. It was obvious. He shouldn’t have said what he said.

Maybe the next thing he should invent was a machine to stuff your words back into your mouth. That thing would sell billions! Everybody needed that. Nobel prize, here I come!

It was so dumb.

Their relationship had been strained, fine. A lot of relationships got strained by the daily grind. Especially if one of the partners was working on the biggest thing in his life. The most important work he probably would ever do! A device that would change the world!

No wonder she couldn’t understand.

Lara was cute, she was bright, she was funny, she was able to relax. She could understand that his stuff was complicated. She couldn’t understand what it really was about or how it worked, but then, few people could. Maybe Sriram. And even with him, Marvin felt … dubious.

That was the thing, wasn’t it?

Some people had wide talents, others had focused ones. Lara had an ear for music, she could paint, she could draw, she could explain complicated things in simple terms (though she usually got some of the finer points wrong, but that was not what this was about). She knew something about everything and she could use the tools she had in unexpected ways. Next to her, Marvin was a clumsy dumbass. There was one thing he could do, and this was the only thing he really cared about. When his mom had asked him to fix her computer because he was a scientist, he had just tried to turn it off and on again, and when that didn’t work, he called Lara.

She got the thing running in no time.

Obviously, he could unravel the mysteries of space and time, but fix a computer? Bah.

He dripped the last remains of the champagne into his cup.

Bah.

Bah!

It was so stupid.

If he just had kept his mouth shut …

Lara had asked him to come to the gym with her and her friend. What was her name? Rose. Rose, yeah. Now that girl was amazing. She was even taller than Lara and she had abs! And muscular arms. Not really muscular muscular, but buff! And she still had nice breasts. That girl was a bombshell! Just the way he liked women.

Of course, Rose would never be into losers like him. Also, she was at the gym all the time.

The problem was that when Lara had asked him to join them, he had said:

“That’s a good idea. You should definitely get more fit. Your body looks so small. And your breasts too.”

Now that was a case for the “shove your words back in your mouth”-machine.

The strange thing about this was that he wasn’t absolutely sure she maybe would like to be buffer. After all, she did try to go to the gym regularly again and again, and she seemed to admire Rose.

Maybe he should just have put it differently …

Nah. If she had been buffer all along, and bustier too, this all wouldn’t have happened, right? Then he wouldn’t have said this stupid thing and … they would still be together.

They would be able to celebrate now and he wouldn’t be sitting in that stupid archive room, looking at that weirdo bottle some idiot had left here. He just had to figure out how to make her buff, right?

Marvin got up, his head swimming. He stumbled over to the shelves, opened a box, looked inside, declared “nope”, opened the next one, and the next one and …

Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #212 on: January 17, 2022, 07:57:29 pm »
Something a little different, but cute!

The Angel's Kiss
Let's get a little romantic! Leah's muscles tend to make the men hesitate. When another date fails to materialize, she just ends up talking to another guy at the bar, and ... it's the right one?
This is a sequel to "The Angel of Battle".
This work of fiction contains female muscle and fighting. All characters are at least 18 years old.

Get it here:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1127559



Here's the preview:

“Hey, you look disappointed.”

Frank smiled at the big woman at the bar. She had just checked her phone the third time in a row. He had to admit that he had been a little shocked when he saw her first, simply because she was so massive. He had never seen anyone like her. Her muscles were big enough to put any male bodybuilder to shame and seriously, her shoulders were each as big as her head …

She had obviously tried to dress this all down a bit, but with a body like that, it was doomed to fail. The turtleneck looked painted on her chest, and it really wasn’t all that flattering on her bullneck. She had short, dynamically styled hair and make-up that suggested that she really wanted to meet her guy. Or her girl for that matter.

She looked at him with a sigh:

“Yeah. Dating apps are hell.”

“Date set you up?”

“I guess. He should have been here half an hour ago. I mean … it’s not as if I didn’t tell him, right?”

“Tell him what?”

“That I’m big. I really try to tell people right away. The first few times, they were so shocked, they almost passed out. Okay, one of them did.”

Frank chuckled.

“I guess that’s a problem.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. I caught the guy in my arms, and that really crushed his masculinity. He was furious. But I couldn’t just let him drop to the floor, could I?”

“Nah, that would have been a bad start for a date. But I get the problem.”

“Yes. Now I tell them as soon as things get more ‘serious’. I even show them pictures of what to expect. I’m really transparent about this, you know?”

“It’s hard to hide anyway.”

“That’s what I’m saying. I’m really super-super-clear on that. And still, the moment they come in and see my back … ‘Oh, sorry, I just got a call from my mom, I … I gotta go.’ And those are the nice ones. The assholes just turn around and disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. I mean, in my line of work, it’s just a thing to be built like this. They wouldn’t roll their eyes at a fashion model for being thin.”

“Or at a psychiatrist for asking ‘why do you think this is like that?’”

She chuckled:

“Uh-huh. Professional deformation.”

“That’s what it’s called?”

“It is. Every job has it. You can tell it from the hands, the eyes, the way someone talks.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, what’s my job?”

“You’ll have to show me your hands.”

He grinned and held them out. She took them, ran her strong fingers over his and checked out his wrists.

“Hmm … You work at a computer.”

“Okay, that’s not much of a discovery, everybody does.”

“Sure, but you do a lot of typing … It’s those knobs on your hands.”

“Okay …”

“I’d say you’re a programmer.”

He nodded slowly.

“Wow. That’s correct. How did you guess?”

“I didn’t guess. I deduced. Elementary, my dear …”

“Frank.”

“Elementary, my dear Frank. I’m Leah.”

“Brilliant, Leah! But seriously, how did you know, just from my hands?”

“Okay, I cheated. It’s the t-shirt.”

Frank looked down at his shirt. Yeah. He did wear the binary code/gang signs shirt his friends had given him for his birthday. And he had his Tux pendant on.

He burst into laughter. She looked at him, a little intimidated and blushing.

As he recovered, he said:

“That was amazing! I think I have to buy you a drink now.”

“Hey, you don’t have to.”

“Nah. This has officially evolved into a date, so we gotta drink.”

He made a sign to the barkeeper and soon, they had a glass of Bailey’s and one of whisky standing in front of them.

As they both took a sip, Frank asked:

“Okay, so now that you deduced what I do for a living, let me give you a try!”

“Sure, no stress. Want to see my hands too?”

“If you would be so kind …”

She grinned and held them out. He touched her fingers and turned her hands around, examining them carefully.

“Hmm …” He echoed her sound and caressed her palms, then the back of her hands. “I’d say you work outside a lot, and you’re not one of these fitness models …”

She smiled.

“You’re not wrong …”

He mused a bit as he closed her hand around his.

“You got these little scars, so … you don’t strike me as a lumberjack.”

“But I’m okay.”

He chuckled.

“Do you wear panties and a bra?”

“Want to find out?”

They grinned at each other, feeling dorky.

 

In the end, Frank didn’t find out what Leah’s job was. Not immediately. He did find out about the underwear, though. For the occasion, she had picked her best set, a red satin bra that was custom made to fit her wide and heavy pecs and a thong that disappeared between her uber-glutes. Frank was surprised by the look at first, but he warmed to it instantly.

Leah was a tad confused by the young man’s reaction. She had had a few dates with fetishists and it had always been super-awkward. Those guys were able to immediately ignore her in favor of her massive body and remain solely focused on her muscles. They wouldn’t even be able to tell what the color of her hair was.

With Frank, it was different. He was willing to try and explore. He marveled at her muscles and her control over them. They reached her place after a short ride on the taxi, then stumbled inside and ended up in bed immediately. Leah helped him out of his shirt with a quick and rather destructive pull, then he rolled up the turtleneck, slowly lifting the curtain on her mind-blowing physique.

“Wow. Okay … That is a lot.”

She was a little nervous. Would he immediately run away? To her relief, he added:

“Come on! Show me more!”

He stared at her abs as they came into view, whistling in admiration.

“Those must have taken a lot of crunches …”

“They basically took all of them.”

“They definitely look that way. May I touch them?”

“Hey, this is what we came here for.”

With an excited grin, he set his finger against one block of muscle. He pushed against it, but his finger bent before her ab even dented.

“Wow …”

With a tiny, controlled flex, she pushed his fingertip further away.

“Wow!”

This gave him a moment of pause. Then he traced the lines between them. She let him, enjoying his attention.

“I never thought anybody could get this buff …”

“It was a lot of work! What do you think? Do you like it?”

“I dunno … It’s … impressive. I guess I do.”

“That’s great.” She sighed in relief. “I think I’m going to keep you.”

“Keep me?”

Instead of an answer, she flexed her abs and caught his fingertip between them. He stared as the packs of muscle tensed around him and held him.

“Holy … That’s incredible. I never knew anybody could do that!”

She grinned:

“I practiced.”

“I don’t think anybody ever tried that.”

“Uh … I was bored?”

“You must have the most tedious job ever.”

“It can be, yes …”

She mused about the details for a while when he asked:

“Could you let me go again?”

“Oh. Oops. Sure!”

She released his fingertip and he laughed:

“Wow. You’ve got amazing control.”

She nodded and rolled her abs, retracting them before blowing them out and pulling them back in again. Frank just stared at her. She bit her lip:

“Impressed?”

“Impressed.”

Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #213 on: February 01, 2022, 08:51:45 pm »
A new story for the lovers of women discovering their masculine side and being okay with that!

Wingman
Marceline feels bad for her son. His dates never pan out and he is constantly frustrated. What the young man needs, is a wingman! But who could do that? What if she tried to be at his side ...
This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth, futa, gender-blending and incest. All characters are at least 18 years old.

Read it here:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1130770



The preview:
Marceline woke up late at night. She heard the door of the house open, some grumbling and a frustrated kicking-off of shoes. She sighed. So it was another failure … She felt terrible for Evan. He was such a nice boy, and not bad looking either. He had something of his father to him, and as far as she was concerned, that was a big plus.

He had curly auburn hair, and since he got that job as a gardener, he had developed a light tan that fit him perfectly. She thought about it. It wasn’t logical. He was nice, acceptably good looking, rather bright and he had a job! What more could a girl ask for?

And yet, again and again, his dates ended in disaster. She heard him sneak up the stairs after showering. She was pretty certain she had heard him crying in the bath, but she wasn’t supposed to hear that. Then she heard him get into his room and toss and turn in his bed.

It was frustrating, and now, she couldn’t sleep either.

What was going wrong?

She couldn’t just show up on one of his dates and spy on him, could she? That was stupid and not okay in any way.

She pondered the question as she heard him mumble.

They had grown apart as he had turned from a scruffy teenager into a young man. Without his father as guidance, the poor kid had really struggled to find a good male role model. But what could she do? She did her best to help him, but ever since Brian died, she didn’t find the heart to start a new relationship.

She did date for a while, but when she saw just how badly Evan took her rapid successes, she stopped doing this. Now she preferred casual get-togethers if she really needed to be with someone. Besides, most guys weren’t men enough next to Brian.

Suddenly, she had a stupid idea. What if she spent some more time with Evan? Just to get to know him and maybe understand the problem? And once she did that, maybe she could help him? Maybe it was obvious, just something he couldn’t understand from his perspective?

She hoped this would help. She’d ask him in the morning!

 

The next day came and Marceline got to work in the kitchen to prepare a nice, long breakfast. After all, she wanted to talk to Evan.

He did show up after a bit, looking as if he slept badly. He grumbled:

“Morning, Mom … What’s with all the food?”

“It’s Sunday and I thought we could have a good breakfast before you start your day.”

“Cool! Thank you.”

She smiled and set down the orange juice for him, then slipped some eggs and strips of bacon on his plate. Marceline had tied her long brown hair into a bun and was otherwise still in her sweatpants and t-shirt, with an apron on top to protect it.

Once she had her own breakfast ready, she sat down and they ate in silence.

After the eggs and bacon, she cut up some fruit and placed the pieces on a plate in their middle, just like when he was a kid. He grinned:

“Wow … That takes me back.”

“It was nice. I probably shouldn’t have stopped, huh?”

“Nah, it’s cool. Thank you, Mom.”

She smiled and asked:

“So, what are you up to today?”

“Weeell … After yesterday’s disaster, I’m just going to pop over to the gym and maybe meet some friends after that. Hang out a bit. I probably won’t be out too long, I’m still tired from yesterday.”

“I can understand …” She thought for a bit. “How about I join you at the gym? Just for today. I think I could lose a few pounds.”

He hesitated. The idea of going to the gym with his mother felt … odd.

Then again, it wasn’t as if he was going to do much other than training anyway.

“Okay! We can try.”

“You’ll have to show me how it works.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Evan stuffed another piece of apple into his mouth and got up:

“I’ll get my stuff and we can go.”

 

Two hours later, Marceline was surprisingly happy. She had just gotten out of the shower after the workout, and it had felt nice. The shower, obviously, but also the training. They hadn’t talked much, since Evan had insisted to do all the exercises and that had pretty much stopped the conversation, but she did feel a certain familiarity to him now. Maybe it was just because she was tired.

She looked at her reflection.

Okay, so she definitely was overweight. Her boobs were hanging down on her chest, her belly had created a kind of flap that hung down to her crotch and … okay, she was terribly out of shape. Especially next to those fitness girls that spent their time posing and snapping pictures on their phones. But she had taken a first step, and she had enjoyed it.

Once she was dressed again, she got out and waited for Evan.

He came out a moment later and smiled at her. Despite his initial hesitations, he had enjoyed this.

“Mom, how do you feel?”

“Good! A little warm, maybe.”

“That’s to be expected. But you’ll see: In a few days, you’re going to be very sore.”

“Why? That doesn’t sound nice.”

“You’ve used a lot of muscles you haven’t used in years. They’re going to react to this.”

“Oh … I hope it won’t be too bad.”

“It will. But I’ll help you.”

And thus, they got into talking again.

 

The soreness did come, and it was bad. Marceline ended up being barely able to move. In that moment, she was really happy she could work from home. The accounting was mostly a matter of concentrating, so she got through it easily, even though she hurt all over. Evan was very helpful that day, getting her around the house and cooking and cleaning for her.

However, after this was over, she decided to try it again. She had enjoyed this, and it was a good way of spending time with her son.

The second time, it was better. Her body seemed to adjust quickly, and Evan didn’t seem to mind her tagging along. Even more, he appreciated her interest, and it ended with them going to the gym together three days a week.

Over time, they got into talking. On the one hand, they were both taking interest in this, so obviously, they started nerding around on fitness stuff. Marceline would watch videos on social media and read blog posts and then talk about new findings, while Evan talked to all kinds of other guys at the gym to get more pointers. That was the one thing.

The other thing was that Evan was really opening up to his mom. They had lived parallel lives over the last few years, and now, as they spent more time together, he started talking about himself and his feelings. Sure, it was difficult at first, and Marceline could tell that he was holding back on all levels, but then, things got better.

She found herself as helpless as before, though.

As far as she could tell, Evan was a charming, mostly intelligent young man who might just be a little on the nerdy side. He was not necessarily someone who’d be rushed by hordes of young women, but his awful track record was … surprising.

She tried to get him to talk about his dates in more detail, but it was a bit difficult to do this without pushing him too much.

In the end, she just stuck to more casual conversation.

A few months of training in, Marceline noticed some impressive changes. The first thing was obvious: She had lost a lot of weight, simply from changing her diet and sticking to regular exercise. Thanks to a rather intense skincare schedule, she managed to deal with the worst bits of flappy skin and stretch marks, but in the end, just being down to her pre-Evan weight in so little time was very nice for her. The other thing was that all this training had really improved her feeling of her own body. She stood straighter now, she walked with a kind of spring in her step, and she had a lot of energy. It was just marvelous!

If she had known it would feel like that, she’d have started years ago!

The other thing was that Evan was changing too. Of course, one part was his job, which involved a lot of physical labor, but the regular training seemed to kickstart his body and soon, he went from okay to pretty fit, even athletic. He wasn’t a bodybuilder or anything, but he was getting quite hunky.

By now, it was easy for him to get dates.

Very easy.

The girls seemed to give him interested looks as he walked by and again and again, some lady at the gym would float by to check him out.

It should have worked.

It didn’t.

Sure, by now he would occasionally bring girls home and Marceline would hear them fool around for a bit, but somehow, none of these panned out into a kind of relationship or even some kind of pleasure.

She was at her wits’ end. Marceline now really wanted to know what he was doing wrong. She couldn’t just come with him to his dates, right? Having a guy as a wingman was one thing, but bringing his mother? No way.


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Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #214 on: March 02, 2022, 07:23:54 am »
Next part of the collection!

Butch x Bimbo - Issue 3
Here's the collected parts 181 to 270 of the story I wrote with @MisterSnrub.

If you want all this in one file and if you want to support us, why not head over to smashwords and pay what you want!
We'd be very happy for your support!

Here's the link:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1135526

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #215 on: March 25, 2022, 10:31:13 pm »
Took me some time to get a new story ready, but this one is nice! If you like soul stealing and body swapping, if you enjoy old women taking over strong young girls, this one should fit your bill!

The Old Soul's Confession
This is a continuation of Old Soul, Young Flesh. (Available here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/997743) Mrs. Kane has taken her victim's body, but somehow, the girl is still there, changing her, and struggling with her. How will they deal with the old woman's crime?
This work of erotic fiction contains female muscle growth (FMG), breast expansion and body switching. All characters are over 18 years old.

Get it here:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1139279




And the preview:

I stretch my back. It feels wonderful. Every day is a gift …
Two years ago, I became her, Michelle Choe. When I look at our, no, my reflection, I sometimes still see her. It’s strange. I should be seeing myself. The young woman I am now. And yet, occasionally, I see her. Someone different. A person I am not.
I shake my head to clear my mind.
I can’t say I shouldn’t be proud of myself. I might have acquired Michelle’s body in … strange ways, but I have taken perfect care of it. My body is a work of art. An elegant sculpture, strong, its muscles heavy, yet tight and elegant. There is no plumpness to it, none of the clumsy, cartoonish misshapenness some other bodybuilders may have. It is sleek, sharp and hard, like a perfectly cut gem. When I go down to the gym, it’s not to “train”!
Ha!
It's to worship.
I hold mass thrice a day now. Once in the morning, once in the afternoon, and once at night. A physique like mine doesn’t just happen! It’s a constant way of improving oneself, of finding and destroying all those tiny imperfections. I use the internet a little now, Theo has picked a phone for me. I’m still a little clumsy, but I get better every day. I did see a picture with a muscleman on it, and it said:
“Getting fit is easy, staying fit is hard.”
This is my motto. I gave it one of those votes.
Reaching this level was rather simple. Now I need to build on it.
I sometimes pick other women to train. Only those that are worthy, of course. I don’t need to be a simple personal trainer. That is absolutely unnecessary. Maybe one could say I am a sponsor? In every way, I’d think.
If I take an athlete under my wings, she has everything she needs. I take care of the nutrition, the training schedule, the supplementation and the medical support. Oh, and the posing, of course. I had a few trainees already, and each one was a raging success on the bodybuilding stages of the world. I think the judges now understand that anyone who carries my seal of approval is championship material and that definitely counts for something …
Theo sometimes sounds unhappy with me being in charge of everything, but then again, he loves the amenities I offer. Sure, he finished his studies and now works at some private school, but the money he’s earning there isn’t going far. After all, he has become very accustomed to the kind of casual luxury I offer.
I must admit … It turns me on when he tries to assert some kind of dominance in our relationship. It’s so funny! When he’s there, talking about his money and his authority and how people admire him … It must be wonderful to be so confident over so little!
I did at least get him to join me during training. He only manages one session a day, he claims that’s because of his work schedule. If it helps him to tell himself that, it’s fine by me. The training does work. He has become a little more muscular, his waist is nice and trim and he looks … acceptable. Of course, next to a perfectionist such as me, he is alright at best. Still, making love with him is good.
He did have to start taking a drug one of my doctors suggested to improve his sperm production. At first, he left me barely satisfied, and that is not enough for me. Now, when I tease him, he has difficulties restraining himself. That’s how I enjoy my men …

Right now, I am preparing for my third Western Open competition, and it’s going to be incredible. With all the work I’ve been putting in, it won’t be much of a challenge. My preparations are mostly completed, I just have to do the last bit of cutting, then up on stage and show the world that I can easily dominate a heavier weight class all the same. I know that bodybuilding isn’t much of a spectator sport these days, if it ever was, but I’m not doing this for the applause or the cheers. I do this for two reasons: I love to perfect my body, and I adore the expression of the competition when they see that they are outmatched.
This is the sweetest moment of it all. Their jaws drop, they’re stunned and they forget what they were up to. Aaah … Just thinking about it turns me on. Victory celebrations are going to be amazing! First, I’m going to have my victory cheat meal: Something wonderful from the old country. I have found a tiny restaurant and they do all the great food from back home, using the truly ancient recipes …
I don’t know how they do it, but it really takes me back.
This is a strange thing. I probably should be enjoying that Korean stuff more, after all, I am Michelle Choe, but … it’s fine, I guess.
But just having some wonderful dumplings, simmering in oil, sweet with sugar … Ah! At my age, you tend to forget the bad times, and you recover the beauty of your childhood. I’m so glad Theo still doesn’t understand what happened, and that he also is easily deceived. He definitely has found his role in our relationship!
I think I will marry him. There will be a prenup, of course. I don’t think he will ever tire of me, but should he dare … I want to be able to get rid of him quickly. For now, he will be wonderful. I have yet to get a dress tailored, but I have found a splendid couturière who will provide me with a wonderful white dress. I have seen her work, and I think she almost understands the power that my body brought me. Maybe I should get her to train with me, get a feeling for the energy? I don’t want it to look too martial, or too dollish. I’m sure she will come up with some fantastic, classic design …

I had the dream again. Dream? Better call it the nightmare it is!
I hate it. It happened before, and it was gruesome. I couldn’t move after waking up. I was just so terrified from it. I can’t see how I can get rid of it. It’s now four in the morning, and I am awake. Is should be sleeping.
I have the competition in the evening, I should be fit and rested and my mind should be clear. Instead, I am lying in the dark on my bed, and I can’t stop panicking. I want to call for help, I want to wake someone to hold me, to tell me it isn’t true, but the words don’t come out.
I am lying here, I can’t even grip the blanket with my hands.
Is it the hunger? Is it the thirst? Is it the training? Is it stage fright?
No.
It’s worse.
It’s some kind of curse on me.
She is so close. That old woman I used to be. She is still there. She could be lying in the bed next to me and I couldn’t see her, simply because I can’t turn my head. She could speak any moment and I would hear her voice … no … my voice. That horrible, ancient voice. She would take this body from me and leave me in that carcass …
To feel it all rotting, the gums receding, the teeth falling out, the weakness and pain … Oh lord … This is bad. To hear that rasping breath, the hard, immobile fingers, the creaking joints, the thousands of aches and pains and the numbness that turns into agony …
And I see my wonderful, beautiful body get up without me, leaving me to die. It turns and grins, it flexes and shows off its power, wiggles its hard ass and displays its perfect definition, and I sag and fall apart.
I can’t even dare close my eyes. It’ll be back again.
I need help. I need someone to tell me it isn’t happening!
I …
“Theo.”
No response. Did I really say it? Could he hear my voice?
“Theo!”
This time, it was almost a scream.
He grumbles and groans. Slowly, he wakes up. I can feel him move. I wish I could look over to him.
“Michelle? What is going on? It’s … I don’t know ... early?”
I shiver. My body is sweaty and cold at the same time.
“Theo, hold me. Please. Please …”
He turns around to face me and hugs me. His arms fit around my back with difficulty and it’s all very clumsy in the darkness, but it helps.
I sob.
“Oh, Theo … Theo … I … I was so afraid!”
“It’s okay. It’s alright … It was just a nightmare. I’m here.”
He caresses me, and I feel my body again. It’s mine. I’m me. I’m still in control.
I can see his eyes glint in the darkness, and a terrifying loneliness washes over me. I need him now …
I cuddle my strong body against him. It’s strange how he can be so warm. I can feel his hands on my back, holding me tighter. I breathe deeply, slowly calming down. He makes soothing noises and I feel better. The nightmare is still there, but it’s already starting to fade. The closer he holds me, the better it feels.
I need to get rid of this fear. Despite him being so sleepy, I can feel his cock stir. Ah … Now that might be a possibility. My hand slips along his body, then to his crotch. He is getting harder already. I kiss him. At this time of the night, he is rather prickly, but that’s okay.
He mumbles:
“Don’t you want to go back to sleep?”
“Would you?”
“Hm … Not right away.”
“Exactly. Me neither.”
I play around with his cock, and soon, he is hard. I grin in the darkness, then extricate myself from his embrace. Carefully, I get on top of him. I can tell that the weight of my muscular body excites him. It always does. I might still have those strange and terrifying dreams, but I can be certain I picked the right body to be with him.
His hands go to my breasts. He likes them a lot. I can understand. I do too. They’re so full and round … They’re marvelous! They’re exactly the way breasts should be … I feel his grip now.
“Yesss …”
This is nice and intense. He plays with them for a bit while I rub myself against his rod. I can feel the tension of my dream fade away. Instead, there’s a new, better feeling rising with me. Tense, yes, but in a wonderful way. I moan as I slip him inside me. I hold him, slowly gliding down his cock. This is good … It always is. He is big, but not too big …
I tighten myself, squeezing it a little harder than I should. He gasps. I’m not going to lie: I have trained my muscles down there hard ever since I got this body. At least half an hour a day!
I know that might sound strange, but … it’s worth it. Anyone will tell you. I hold him, squeeze him, relax a bit, then grip him again. His hands are now on my haunches, and I gyrate slowly. He’s starting to match my rhythm. Good …
I’m in charge. This is how it’s meant to be.
Theo is a fine young man, but ultimately, he is a gentle soul, not fit to rule or decide. He’s best with me.
I lean forward now, my nipples brushing against his chest. I ride him hard, my pussy all filled up with his cock. My hamstrings slap against his thighs. I gasp. My mind is clouding, all the stupid thoughts and fears fade away …

Eventually, we are done. He falls asleep quickly, but I can’t. I toss and turn for a while, then I get up. There’s no point in lying around, wasting my time. Better start the day like this.
I slip out of the bedroom without waking the maids. There’s no point. Let them sleep!
Back in the day, I needed them a lot. Nowadays, I keep them around just for the cooking and cleaning. They make my life easier, but I could get rid of them. Sometimes, I think I should. Take responsibility for my whole life.
Then again, they served me well and faithfully when I depended on them. It wouldn’t be honorable to drop them the moment I didn’t need them. Besides, what if it all breaks down again? I wouldn’t even know how that would work, but the thought scares me!
I’ll have to talk to the witch. She’ll know what this is all about and how to fix it!
Meanwhile, better get pumping. Just some light exercise to occupy my mind. After all, I still have the contest later today. It’d be a shame if all that work had been for nothing.

The voice booms over the auditorium. I am backstage with the other competitors. We’re all dolled up, the fake tan glistening. My makeup is on point, my posing suit is a sparkling monstrosity. It’s really uncomfortable, constantly trying to get up my butt. I’d love to just do these competitions in the nude! At that point, it wouldn’t mean much, and after all, these suits don’t conceal much anyway. I glance over to Patricia. She’s old. She’s doing her best to smile. Hah. She’s at least fifty now, though she keeps lying about her age. If she only knew …
She’d give an arm and a leg to look like me! That would also fix her symmetry troubles. The others too! Angie? She’s cute, but she’s never really managed to put on some quality mass. They’re all nice and everything, but in the end, they don’t get it. Look at this new girl, Britney. Just getting big implants won’t win you the contest, dear! You still have to know how to pose. At least Patricia used to be a stripper! She knows how to move. You, Britney, are just clumsy.
Time to get my trophy.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for our competitors!”
We all file back out on stage. I must admit, this is the part I hate most. This stupid moment between doing my show and getting the reward. I despise it, even though I win.
“This year, our competitors really outdid themselves. The judges agree that it was very difficult to pick the winners and they hope that it will only spur everybody on to outdo themselves next year!”
Yadda, yadda.
“And now, on third place, Michelle Choe!”
What.
What?
WHAT?!
They can’t be serious? Third place? Me? How? Why? Okay, I was a little tired and lacked a bit on the definition, and maybe I did look a bit stressed, but …
Smile. Smile graciously. Take the stupid trophy. I hate it already. Smile more. A little bow, another smile. Give the people a little wave. Kissie. Wave. Smile.
I hate this.
Quick. Just finish this stupid ceremony and …
Wow. At least I’m backstage again.
“Theo! Get my coat, we’re leaving.”
“Don’t you want to clean up?”
“No, we’re going now. I can’t deal with this right now.”
Look at that smug look. Look at the bitch. I hate her. Fuck Patricia. Madame Smug. So you won. Big deal. Don’t you dare kiss me.
“Sorry, gotta go.”
“But we wanted to celebrate! I even have some panini.”
Panini? Seriously?
“I just … congratulations. You did great. Amazing work. The best you could given what you got.”
I smile at her. She doesn’t get it. Time to be gone.

The drive home was horrible. Theo tried to cheer me up. He’s so clumsy when it comes to this.
“Hey, you can still win next time! Besides, you were the best in my opinion. Also, you had a bad day. That just happens. It’s not your fault!”
I’m glad we’re back home. The first thing I did was have a bath. I scrubbed all the fake tan off, then got in the tub, just to soak. One of the maids brought me some ice cream. They understand. I know I shouldn’t, but sometimes, I have to. While sitting in the tub and letting all the stupid things flow off me, I wonder how everything could go wrong like this. I’ll really have to talk to that witch. Her magic is screwing with me. I can’t have this.
Once I am done with my bath, I get out dry myself and slip into my robe. I walk down to the salon, where Theo is waiting. He’s on his phone. I don’t get those young people, always looking for some distraction.
At least, he looks up the moment I come down the stairs. Ah. Those stairs were a great investment back in the day, nothing better than some massive beast of marble and cast iron to frame a goddess like me descending from the heavens!
I chuckle.
Then I finish my descent, display my physique as I drop the robe from my shoulders. My upper body glints in the light like a flower growing through the snow. I tense my chest, making my tits quake and spreading my torso. Now this is a sight for sore eyes.
I stride closer to him, the energy of my steps making my calves bulge. With a seductive smile, I drop the robe, turn around and hit a back pose that blows him away. My back muscles spread, my waist stays as thin as ever. This taper is eye-watering.
Another grin over my shoulder, then I tighten my back and switch to a side triceps. The pose doubles the girth of my arm.
Double biceps next.
Theo is salivating now. Of course he is.
Why couldn’t I do this before?
I lean back, bunch up my abs, suck them in, push them out, let them dance like a wave, cock my hips this way, then the other, shimmy … Bam! Blast my thighs, let them swell and grow … and … most muscular.
He’s rock-hard again. That’s nice. He’s rubbing his cock already. Ah … I love it when he can’t stop himself.
“Go on! Rub it! I’m the best. I’m your queen! I should have won!”
“You should, yes! You were amazing! You have it all! You’re young, you pose like a goddess, you’re feminine … You’re wonderful!”
“This is all nice and cute, but I need more!”
“Michelle, you’re strong, you outdo them all. They’re all just sad excuses for bodybuilders, but you’re a true athlete! Your arms, your legs … your symmetry … They all just stumble on stage when they think they’re ready, but you, you go all in!”
“Yes. Yes! More!”
“You built this body from being all tiny and cute, and now, you’re an amazon! They should love you the way I do. They should adore you! But you know what? They’re all just jealous! You’ve outshined them all again and again … They want to be you!”
I purr happily, then let my muscles swell some more.
“You’re so ripped and powerful … How could they let you lose?”
I am very close to him now. I see my reflection in the mirror in the background. He is right. How could someone like this lose? The ageless Asian face, the elegant bobbed haircut, the smile? Isn’t that what they’re looking for? A cute, model-like face on a body like a muscle goddess?
I get on my knees in front of him. I cross my arms under my breasts and flex everything. My muscles and tits are fighting for space and he shoots his load all over me. Yesss …

After this, he looks spent, but I need more. I need to get this all out of my system. I climb on top of him now, my heavy, hard body bearing down on him. There isn’t much he can do. I might not be taller than him, but I certainly outweigh him, even in the dry competition state I am in.
He groans:
“No … I … I’ve had enough … for today … I’m just …”
I frown. This is not something I am used to hearing.
“I don’t care … I need you now and I want this.”
“I just … I think I’m spent … and tired … and …”
I just kiss him to shut him up. He can’t resist the lure and I hold to him, my tongue in his mouth, my lips on his. I release him for a moment, and I feel his cock stir, but it seems weak and lost down there. I won’t have it.
I reach over to my handbag while I keep grinding him, tightening the pressure of my thighs on his weak and helpless body. He is both mesmerized and exhausted. He wants to, but he can’t …
I break out the pill from its blister with one hand, put it on my tongue as he sighs, then kiss him again, forcing it more or less gently into his mouth. He stares at me, swallows it, then wants to say something, but by then, it’s already working.
His cock hardens as I continue my movement and the poor guy grows and thickens under me.
He stares at me:
“What was that?”
“Oh, just a little something I recently found … It should help you last …”
He groans:
“Oh God … This feels so intense … It’s … oooh …” He starts to twitch, he salivates, he looks at me with an expression of absolute devotion. I love this. I take him inside, he is hard and thick and it feels wonderful … I hold him, feel the veins and little bumps and lines on his cock. Why am I so sensitive down there? Why does it have to feel so wonderful? I ride him hard now, my thighs all pumped and ready. My body is a machine, a perfect icon of sex and I love it …
I hold him tight, squeeze him until he calms down, though his face looks as if he is going to go crazy with lust, then I start again, rubbing, suckling, fondling his cock with my pussy … I love this … I never, never would have thought I could feel this way!
He cums.
He cums again.
This pill is amazing.
He is filling me up with his sperm … I feel so full, it’s running out on all sides and still, I get him to shoot his load one more time. Whenever he feels as if he’s going to fold, I give him a show of my hard, perfectly sculpted muscles, and he’s back up, ready again. It’s a wonderful experience and I want it to go on forever.
By now, he must be raw and exhausted, but I don’t care. My own body is way beyond its limits too, the diet, the bad sleep, the competition, the fury, it’s all too much, I chafe, but I want this out of me. I want to be free of the bad dreams, the being sorry …
I go on, my mind breaking apart from the strain. I force him to cum again, he is drooling, his eyes are unfocused, I am aching all over, my muscles are so pumped I can feel the tension all over, I am sweaty, tired, brutalized, way beyond anything I have ever experienced, and then, finally I cum.
I produce a long, drawn-out squeal. It’s not a pretty sound. It’s some kind of primordial noise. A symbol of all the shit I’ve gone through which I am now expelling from myself.
My eyes glaze over, my face is a smile, unfocused, confused, but finally sated.
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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #216 on: March 26, 2022, 10:34:39 pm »
Nice! Was wondering if this tale would have a sequel since it did have some "to be continued" vibes around it.

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #217 on: March 29, 2022, 09:09:49 pm »
There's news!
I got one of my stories, Desires, recorded as an audiobook, and it's amazing. Seriously.
The very awesome Jenna Annapolis did an excellent job and really brought it to life!
It's published on various platforms and it will appear on them over time.

Here's the first one I found on scribd:

https://scribd.com/audiobook/567103776/Desires
Check out on your favorite platform and see whether it's already available there.
Look for Desires by Roy Ellison.

You can listen to the sample without logging in and I hope you enjoy it!
Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #218 on: April 09, 2022, 12:50:07 am »
There's news!
I got one of my stories, Desires, recorded as an audiobook, and it's amazing. Seriously.
The very awesome Jenna Annapolis did an excellent job and really brought it to life!
It's published on various platforms and it will appear on them over time.

Here's the first one I found on scribd:

https://scribd.com/audiobook/567103776/Desires
Check out on your favorite platform and see whether it's already available there.
Look for Desires by Roy Ellison.

You can listen to the sample without logging in and I hope you enjoy it!

Will it be coming to smash words? I've checked but it does not seem to be there.

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #219 on: April 09, 2022, 07:46:19 pm »
Will it be coming to smash words? I've checked but it does not seem to be there.

Sadly, smashwords doesn't directly distribute audiobooks.

The e-book is available here if you want to read it:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/928538

The audiobook is available on these links for now, but more distributors should be coming soon:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/desires-roy-ellison/1130921205?ean=2940175458580
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/audiobook/desires-27
https://libro.fm/audiobooks/9781669681809
https://www.scribd.com/audiobook/567103776/Desires
Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #220 on: April 10, 2022, 10:12:58 pm »

This is a story that is full of very intense feats of strength involving an absurdly strong older woman, and her very powerful vulva. You're probably gonna like it ...

Junkyard Queen
Ron only wanted to be rid of all the junk from his ex' house. He did his best to be a gentleman, but disposing of this stuff turned out to be more complicated than expected. Happily, Dena was willing to help him with all that. And Dena is certainly the strongest woman he ever met! This work of erotic fiction contains female muscle and feats of strength. All characters are at least 18 years old.

Get it here!
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1141839



A sample to get you in the mood:

Ron gripped the wheel a bit harder, hoping to control his car as he drove over the potholed street. The guys at his hometown’s junkyard had told him that they were full and no amount of persuasion, even bribery, would let him dump a trunkful of old appliances. His car was pretty much full and he had to strap everything down so it wouldn’t fall off on that bumperfest of a road.
The whole situation had started innocently. He had parted on good terms with his ex, and when Sonya had asked him to get rid of all the old appliances in her new home, he had shrugged and agreed. Together with her cousins, he had carried out the whole stuff, then loaded it on his pickup truck.
As far as he had been concerned, he had just expected to bring the stuff to the junkyard and be done with it.
Then those guys told him that they were full and the odyssey had begun.
They were so nice as to provide him with the other address, but that place was in the next county and the road that led there, well, yeah. It was shit. His car’s suspension was fighting for its life and the GPS on his phone was constantly updating and increasing the duration of his trip.
So much for that.
Something in the back produced a loud clang.
Ron just hoped it wasn’t something important. He prayed to whatever god would still listen that it was just a piece of junk that had come loose.
He rounded a corner very carefully, begging the fates not to flip over his car in the worst moment, then he breathed a loud sigh of relief: Like the Pearly Gates, he saw the entrance to the fabled junkyard the guys had suggested. It looked, well, not run down, but ancient. The other yard had plenty of equipment towering around and seemed much more like a factory, while this one looked more like one of those things you’d see in a movie. One of those old Hollywood movies.
Hm.
Ron decided to take his chances.

He drove into the yard and was greeted by loud crunches and the shrieks of tearing metal. At least, the place was in use, even if it looked slightly “out of fashion”, if that even was a thing with junkyards.
He stopped the car, got out and did a quick check of his load. Yes. Happily, everything was still there as far as he could tell and even better, the junk hadn’t damaged his car. He was relieved. Now all he had to do was get rid of all that trash and be on his way.
Oh, Sonya definitely owed him one. A big one.
He followed the noise to see if he could find someone to help him unload the trash.
Ron rounded a line of neatly stacked metal plates and then emerged on an open area where some topless guy in jeans underpants was busy doing what exactly? He tried to figure out what was going on. The man was pulling apart an old truck with his bare hands. Okay, not with his bare hands, he was wearing gloves, but as far as Ron knew, this was the kind of work you were supposed to do with cutters or some kind of machine. Instead, the guy ripped off the truck’s roof, his astonishingly pumped muscles contracting into a mass of striations.
The screech of metal was terrifying. No wonder the guy was wearing ear muffs.
Ron walked into the man’s field of view to get noticed and stopped and stared.
This … guy was actually a woman. Of sorts. It took him a bit to process what he was seeing.
The dude who had just ripped apart some rolled steel was actually an old woman, with curly white hair and an ancient face, the skin tanned from hard work outside, but with a surprisingly nice smile. She was cute in an oldish way.
Then again, she was topless, and Ron had never seen a chest like that. He had never, ever seen anybody with muscles like these. Her pecs were twin giant slabs of muscle that stood from her chest by four inches, deeply carved with ripped striations and which absolutely crushed her nipples, which pointed downwards from the sheer overwhelming mass.
Below that, she sported a set of bulging eightpack abs that stood out like a turtle shell from an equally powerful midsection. Her shoulders and back were wide enough that one could probably drive one of these trucks across.
The woman looked at him as she pulled off the remaining connections of the roof and then proceeded to place it against her chest, using her absurdly massive arms to flatten it further.
As the groan of metal died down, she pulled off the earmuffs and asked:
“Yes?”
Her voice was deep and strong too, but very feminine, almost sultry. Ron felt his loins stir for no obvious reason. What the hell was going on?
“Uh … Yeah. Hi. I’m Ron Turner, and the guys at Davis Recycling told me they were full and that you’d take my trash.”
The old woman put the neatly pressed plate of steel on a stack close-by and nodded:
“Sure. Let me take a look at your stuff. I shouldn’t have much trouble. Besides, one of the scrap metal buyers is going to show up later. Maybe I can get rid of it immediately.”
Ron kept staring at her. This was obviously making that woman a bit uncomfortable, or at least annoying her.
“Do I have anything on my face, Ron?”
He blushed:
“No, no. I was just surprised.”
“By what?”
The blushing got worse:
“Well … By you?”
“Never seen a working woman before? I thought you city guys were all emancipated?”
“That’s not what I meant …” He had to follow her now, since she headed for his car already. It was odd to watch her walk. Her quads were so massively thick that she walked with a strange kind of swagger, her whole body swinging as she walked. With every step she took, her calves swelled and bulged, spreading out sideways as she marched on.
She rounded the truck.
“What did you mean?”
“The … the you being topless.”
“It’s my own place. I can be as topless as I want. What kind of a prude are you? Besides, it’s not as if I got any tits swinging around, right?”
He chuckled nervously.
“Yeah. I guess. Hey, sorry. I was just surprised and I didn’t want to insult you.”
She turned to him, which was a whole procedure of movements, her mighty upper body swinging around. Then she smiled at him, looking all like a cute old granny. It was a strange sight to look down on her from his 6’2”, her old woman face framed by the most brutally shredded muscle collar he had ever seen.
“Ron, it’s okay. I didn’t get to the ripe age of 72 and still be insulted by youngsters who like to stare.”
The last words really stung. He wasn’t staring! Okay, no, he was staring, but he wasn’t staring like a teenager. And this ancient woman wasn’t making him horny. No sir.
He hid his shaking hands and turned to the pickup truck:
“Anyway … Here’s the stuff. It’s just old appliances from my ex’ house.”
“Uh-huh.” The old woman examined the load and said: “Okay, I can take it.”
“Thank you, ma’am! You wouldn’t know how far I had to drive all that stuff!”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, Ron. I’m not ‘sir’ing you either. I’m Dena. Dena Eastman.”
“Okay. Pleased to make your acquaintance!”
“God, you’re so formal! Like a gentleman, really. Didn’t know they still made those …”
“Uh … Anyway, should I unload the things?”
She laughed:
“Nah. Grab a chair from the shed and a beer. I’ll just take care of this. It’s quicker this way.”
“Are you sure?”
She scoffed and climbed on the car with a smooth, powerful push, hoisting her muscle-packed body on the car’s deck. The suspension groaned. For a moment, Ron got nervous. What if that woman weighed too much and it would break his axle?
She made a gesture at the shed:
“Quick now. And bring me a beer too!”
Ron did as he was told while still looking back at the car. He saw Dena pick the washing machine first and lift it up with one arm, then hoisting it up and up on her shoulder. There, she brought her second, equally gigantic arm to it and stabilized the whole thing. Next, she stepped down from the car with a kind of leap and landed with a stomp, the machine still on her back. It was obviously heavy, but didn’t seem to burden her all that much.
Dena just set it down a little further and then climbed back up, picking the dryer next.
Ron wanted to say something about maybe assisting her, but she just made a dismissive gesture and declared:
“I got this, don’t worry.”
So, with this information, he sat down and opened his can. He sat down and watched as she picked up the dryer and just easily carried it to the deck’s end, then jumped off, catching her fall easily. She literally jogged over to the washing machine and set the dryer down, then continued unloading the various bits and bobs with absolute ease. In no time, the car was empty and all the stuff he had brought was neatly set out.
She clapped her hands:
“There, done!”
Ron was impressed. He got up from his chair, his beer half-finished, and said:
“That was amazing! I have never seen anyone as strong as you!”
The woman grinned, obviously flattered by the compliment.
“Yeah, I get that a lot …”
She played with one of the white locks of her hair. Ron passed the appliances and reminded himself of how awful it had been to move them all on the car. Then he looked over at the musclewoman that had dealt with all this in mere minutes. He swallowed nervously, then asked:
“I guess you also get that thing a lot, but … how did you get so strong?”
Dena laughed:
“Okay, yes, that is literally the second most common question!” She walked over to the chair with a mighty swing of her dramatic upper body, picked up the second beer can and popped it open. “To make things very simple, it was hard work, really. And apparently, I have great genetics, or so the doctor said. He had a blood sample taken and sent in for analysis and the bigwigs basically said that I am really good at getting big muscles.” She took a sip of her beer and sighed: “That was certainly worth all the studying.”
“So you work this place alone?”
“Uh-huh. Ever since my deadbeat husband pissed off years ago, leaving me with this heap of trash and quite a bit of debt. A wonderful guy, I tell you. But I got busy, and would you believe it, I found my calling. Every time I crush an especially big bit of trash, I think of him, and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside!”
She laughed, then asked:
“Want another beer?”
Ron hesitated. He shouldn’t be drinking and driving, obviously. While the chance of running into a cop out here in the sticks was very low, he didn’t want to screw this up. Then again, the weather was nice, the company was interesting, the beer was cool, and he wasn’t exactly busy today, so he said:
“Yeah, that would be awesome!”
Dena chuckled and said:
“Okay, then come along. I still have a few things to take care of, but you can watch and maybe lend me a hand.”
He followed her to the inner part of the junkyard, getting himself a beer from the cooler in the shed on the way.
Once there, she told him to sit down and walked over to one of the cars there. It was a rather ancient sedan that looked really battered and indeed, there was a massive dent in its front. Ron asked:
“That looks bad. How did that happen?”
Dena shrugged her enormous shoulders and said:
“I don’t really know. I pulled it out of a tree and haven’t had time to do the proper disassembly. I just stripped the catalytic converter, the airbag and the electronics, and now I gotta break it up.”
She crouched down. He asked:
“Aren’t you going to get some kind of trolley or something to move it?”
Dena grunted and stood up, her massive hamstrings popping out as she lifted the car’s back easily. Ron couldn’t help noticing just how incredibly wide and defined her back was. It was like watching a landscape forming under his eyes. There were valleys and hills, mountain ranges and chasms that shifted with her power. She had spread her legs a bit to make room for her massive thighs and she held the car up like it was nothing.
Ron tried to suppress it but a “Wow!” escaped him anyway.
It was clear that Dena liked the admiration. She strutted her stuff and pulled the car behind her, declaring:
“Why would I, it’s got wheels!”
Ron nodded slowly as she swaggered by.
“Yeah … I guess it does, still … I can’t believe how strong you are.”
She laughed, pulling the car and not even breathing hard.
“You don’t have to believe if you’re seeing it!”
Once she had the car in position, she grabbed a crowbar and started popping off the bodywork. Ron watched in fascination as she just bent the metal away with quick and easy movements. It took five minutes, tops.
Then she grabbed the edge of the body and just lifted it off, flipping it over on its roof and revealing the rather mangled insides of the car. She walked over to the front and started blowing off the bolts of the engine.
Ron commented:
“I don’t think you’re actually going to need my help, right?”
She chuckled:
“Not yet, no.” She looked over to him just as she pushed down on the crowbar and her aged face seemed to light up, seeming strangely alluring. Just then, there was a squeal of metal and she cursed:
“Oh, fuck!”
She lifted the crowbar back up and Ron noticed it was bent. How did that happen?
“Uh … Did you just do that?”
“Yeah, sorry. I wasn’t concentrating. Happens to the best of us, right?”
Ron laughed:
“Nope. Never. But … what are you going to do now?”
“Hey, it’s not the first time.”
With a grin, she lifted the bar up, set it against the back of her neck and stretched her muscle-packed arms backwards. Then she slipped them under the bar and tightened her muscles, using the deep grove between her enormous traps to hold it in place.
Ron stared as the bar was bent back into shape. Once it was vaguely ready, she rolled it around on her muscles for a bit, occasionally giving it further pushes until it was alright again.
The man asked:
“Okay … This is an actual steel bar?”
“Sure. There wouldn’t be much of a point for it to be made of wood, right?” She laughed.
Ron nodded:
“I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever seen. I mean, not only in real life, just … everywhere.”
She flashed him a wonderful smile:
“I’m pretty buff, you’re right!”
She flexed one of her arms and set off a cascade of brutally pumped muscles that just seemed to get harder and harder, swelling in all directions and displaying all kinds of veins and striations. Ron started to sweat, and it wasn’t just the afternoon heat.
Dena stretched and scratched her enormously thick pecs. Each pack of hard meat was as big as Ron’s head and it looked as if it was absolutely undentable.
She walked over to him, her body glowing.
“I have to admit though, you’re quite hunky too, Ron.”
Her look was smoldering. She held the crowbar easily in her hand and sighed:
“I probably should be working, but …”
Instead of continuing her sentence, she gave the bar a long, intense lick, dragging her tongue over its length.
Ron was instantly hard. He was a little confused by the situation, after all, a super-intense, ancient woman with absurdly big muscles was on the furthest end of things that would turn him on. But he had to face the facts. His cock was stirring in his pants, and he was getting really horny.
Then she was upon him. With a strong hand, she basically ripped his belt open, sending the buckle flying. Normally, Ron would have felt either annoyed or terrified, either by the destruction of his stuff or the fact that she could rip thick leather like paper, but right then, he was getting absurdly turned on.
He quickly undid his fly to save his pants from imminent annihilation and dropped them, revealing his rigid dick.
And then, she was upon him. She lifted him up easily, basically raising his crotch to her face level, and leaned her head back to rest on her enormous traps.
Then she kissed his cock, and circled its head with her tongue. It felt warm and wet, and although Ron was basically held in the air like a ragdoll, he felt amazing.
He felt her tongue dance along his dick, exploring it, playing with it, stimulating it. It was incredible! Even Dena’s tongue seemed to be absurdly strong …
She groaned happily, sucking his dick, licking it up and down, then hovering it down her throat.
He groaned:
“Oh God! This is … amazing … I … never …”
Just as he was about to blow his load, her hand seemed to lock around the base of his cock and her steel fingers blocked him.
His entire body started to shiver. She licked down his full length, then released him.
“Not so fast, Ron … Let me enjoy this!”
“I … Oh … Oooh …”
She released his cock and sucked on it some more, then went back to licking it from its base to the head, then back down. She engulfed his balls and played with them with her tongue, making him scream with horniness. And yet, just as he was about to cum, she held him again, let him calm down and started again.
Ron was shaking wildly up there, going crazy from her tricks. He desperately wanted to cum, but she just kept turning him on more and more, her massive muscles all swollen under him, her eager, hungry mouth ravishing his cock and balls.
“Pleeeease … Deeeena … Come oooon …”
She swirled her tongue along his cock before sucking down on it again, her warm mouth embracing its hardness again. As she let it pop out again, carefully controlling the pressure of her strong hand on it, she grinned:
“You’re a courteous young man, I give you that …”
Then she opened her mouth once more, sucked his whole length in and squeezed it, her tongue playing along his shaft until it reached his base.
He came with a squeal, the sound echoing over the junkyard. She swallowed his cum eagerly and licked him clean.
Then, slowly, she set him back down.
Ron was stunned:
“Wow. Wow … That was … incredible. I … I … Thank you. Thank you …”
The old woman grinned and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Bah, don’t mention it. You’re a gentleman, you only deserve a good treatment!”
Ron blushed. Dena’s openness somewhat shocked him. He hesitated, then he said:
“Okay, but I’ve got to make it up to you!”
She chuckled:
“Are you sure about that? I’m pretty voracious …”
He nodded:
“I insist!”
“Then insist away!”
He got on his knees in front of her. She was shorter than him, but she did have long legs in proportion. He also only now realized just how enormous her legs were. Each thigh was easily larger than his head, and they tapered to some brutally massive hips, and a slim and absurdly muscle-packed waist. Ron stared at the fibers of her muscles moving under her skin. It was fascinating, but also shocking.
She moved her hips a bit, sending shockwaves of muscle through her legs.
“Okay, Ron, now here’s the question: I appreciate the gesture, but you really have to get those pants off me …”
“Okay …”
“So, how are you going to do this?”
Ron looked up. Her aged face was partially obscured by those massive slabs of pec meat. This woman was so hulkingly big …
He nodded to himself and undid the fly on her tiny jeans hotpants. He instantly understood she wasn’t wearing any underwear. The warm smell of her pussy almost drove him mad with lust. He slowly pulled the sides of her fly away and was greeted by a shaved, muscular crotch. Some thick veins snaked down from her cobblestone abs to her bulging pubic mound.
With a deep breath, Ron slipped his pants under the tight fabric, reaching around her hips and feeling the brutal hardness of her muscles. Softly, he kissed her mound and licked upwards to the separation of her abs.
Dena seemed to appreciate it.
“Ooh, nice … I love it already, Ron … you’re a good man …”
Carefully, Ron started moving the pants down. It was hard work and he really struggled. They were way too tight on those muscles, and Dena’s mounting arousal made her flex her glutes a bit, moving her crotch closer to his face. It was difficult to peel her out of those jeans without ruining them. He sighed, then groaned as he slowly got it down.
To help him a little, Dena shifted her stance, once again making her absurdly hard muscles shift. By now, he was struggling to roll those hot pants down to her thighs. Their mass made the procedure even more difficult.
Finally, after a bit of pulling and dragging, he managed to free her pussy without even popping a single seam on those pants.
Dena grinned:
“Wow … You really did it! I’m impressed! When you’re done with your tongue, I guess you’ll have to put those hands to good use too.”
Ron stared at her pussy. Now he had been with a few women in his life, some younger, some older, but he had never seen anything like this. To be perfectly honest, he felt intimidated. He didn’t know a vulva could be strong, and that one could actually “see” it, but this one was.
Its lips seemed somehow meaty and powerful, encasing a tight, wet hole. Dena’s clitoris was as big as the tip of his thumb, and it looked swollen and ready. If anything, those lips seemed as if they could bite …
He hesitated.
Dena groaned. She was getting desperately horny from all this, and so, her pussy lips spread invitingly. Ron slowly extended his tongue, still a bit afraid of what would happen. Then his tip touched her lips and he slowly licked over their meaty mass. Dena shivered, her muscles tensing all over.
Ron licked on, carefully tracing those lips, then circling her clit, then kissing it. As he closed his lips around Dena’s clit, she gasped:
“Wow … You’re great at this … I love it … This is the fun part about you city guys … You really try to do a woman good …”
Ron felt a certain pride at this comment and continued, his tongue eagerly dancing around Dena’s clit and lips, even occasionally darting within her. That’s when she caught him. Somehow, she was able to move her lips like this, and they closed around his tongue tip.
“Glrf!”
Dena grunted happily as he slapped against her thighs. She released him, but as soon as he returned to it, she held him again. Then she brought her powerful hands against the back of his head and held him in place, gently, yet forcefully pushing him into her crotch.
Seeing as he was caught now, Ron licked her clit and sank a finger into her aching pussy. To his surprise, that felt a little lost in there.
He added another, but that still didn’t seem to even begin to satisfy her.
With mounting nervousness, he shoved his entire fist into her. The effect was immediate.
“Oh God! Yesss!”
He ran his fingers along her insides carefully at first, but she seemed to be uninterested in further gentleness. Instead, she increased her hand’s pressure against his head, and so, he did what he could.
With full force, he shoved his fist into her. It felt wrong, but what could he do? It wasn’t as if this Valkyrie would release him anyway!
He pistoned her now, hammering his fist into her. With every push, her lips seemed to suck on his wrist, getting him in faster. Ron was noticing that this was both terrifying and erotic, since his cock was already brutally hard again.
She shouted:
“Oh yesss! Yesss! Come on! Harder! Yes, yesss! Rooon!”
He took her words to heart and literally punched into her, getting into the rhythm and sucking on her clit as he fisted her.
“Gaaaarrrr …”
She came with a growl, her insides twitching and tightening around his fist. For a moment, Ron was very afraid, but she released him and he pulled out his slick hand, everything dripping with her juices.
He flopped down on the ground, completely exhausted.
His fist was white from all the squeezing.
Without much further words, Dena reached down to her crotch, adjusted something and sighed happily. Then she pulled her tiny pants back up and stretched her enormous chest.
At last, she said:
“That was very nice, young man. You’re going to fit in just right …”
“Fit in?” Ron was seriously confused by what she was saying. He was also brutally horny, desperate for a fuck. He couldn’t understand how anybody could be so absolutely powerful …
He just had to ask:
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Get so strong? I mean, you are literally more powerful than a hydraulic press. How can that be?”
Dena continued her stretching, then extended a hand to the still lying Ron:
“Come on, get up!”
He took it and she casually pulled him to his feet. It felt as if she would throw him around for a moment, but he stumbled and caught himself.
She laughed at his clumsiness and said:
“I wouldn’t know, really. That’s just the way I am. Maybe there’s something in the water …” She mused on the question for a bit. “Bah, it’s probably just the exercise. There’s always some heavy lifting to do!”
He wanted to ask something, but Dena cut him off:
“I still got a few little things to do. Once I’m done, we can fool around a little more. So how about you relax a bit and I finish those?”
Ron was conflicted. He didn’t have anything to do right now, and the afternoon was already mostly over. Sure, he could drive back to the city and do … nothing? Or he could hang around here and watch this insanely muscular woman work, with the prospect of more sex later on?
Okay, so there really wasn’t a conflict. It was just a kind of insecurity about just how intense Dena was. He did feel a little uncomfortable being so intensely outclassed. He wasn’t the man for a fragile masculinity, but Dena was so far beyond … It was tough.
In the end, the horniness got the best of him.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Just make sure you tell me if I can lend a hand!”
She laughed:
“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry. But I think I will manage most of it!”
With these words, she marched back to the center of the scrapyard and got to work.
Ron sat on a folding chair and watched attentively. It was quite the show.
Find my stories on Smashwords:
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Commissions available on request.

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #221 on: April 24, 2022, 03:16:30 pm »
Butch x Bimbo - Issue 4!

Here's the collected parts 271 to 360 of the story I wrote with MisterSnrub.

If you want all this in one file and if you want to support us, why not head over to smashwords and pay what you want!
We'd be very happy for your support!

Here's the link:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1143878


Find my stories on Smashwords:
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Commissions available on request.

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #222 on: April 30, 2022, 08:44:19 pm »
Something different once in a while ...

The Sculptor's Masterpiece
Colleen is commissioned to craft a sculpture of a famous bodybuilder woman. She is fascinated by her physique, and as she works, this fascination starts to change her ...
This erotic fiction contains female muscle growth (FMG) and transformation. All characters are at least 18 years old.

It was great fun to write!



Get it here:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1144876

The preview:

“We are very glad and thankful that you would have us, Miss …”

Colleen smiled at the couple. They were certainly strange, yet interesting people. He was a big, balding man who looked as if he still worked on the factory floor which he now owned every day. His smile was equally big and he appeared to show her genuine enthusiasm. The woman, on the other hand, felt more reserved. Colleen couldn’t help admiring her. Despite the pantsuit she was wearing, her physique was obvious. This woman lived in the gym and probably had an incredible figure.

Next to her, Colleen probably looked vaguely dumpy. She had her hair tied into a messy bun and covered in a scarf to prevent the dust from settling in it. Her calloused hands looked rough and brutish next to the other woman’s perfectly manicured ones and while years of working as a sculptor had given Colleen a strong, tight body, the woman’s muscles seemed much more dramatic than hers.

“No, no, the pleasure is all mine. I haven’t done a commission yet, but I am very happy that you would give me a chance.”

The man set his hand in his lover’s and shrugged:

“It’s a shame, really. The sculptors one meets today always do some weird stuff, like welding together some trash or just doing some funny stuff I wouldn’t even understand … Pardon my French, but … I think these guys have no talent. It’s all just getting people to buy stuff, right?”

The woman squeezed his fingers a little and said:

“Jerry, you’re ranting.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I …” He looked at Colleen: “The thing is, look at me.” He made a gesture at himself and his bespoke suit. “I’m playing dress-up here. I’m no intellectual and I know nothing about art. My company makes drills. I didn’t go to any schools or anything. But I did take Marina to Europe recently, and we saw all those fancy art museums.” He smiled. “I thought since she was a bodybuilding champion and since those bodybuilders all started with the Greek stuff, I said: ‘Let’s look at some naked dudes made of marble.’ And it was great!”

Marina nodded:

“Amazing. Have you ever been to Europe?”

Colleen agreed:

“I had the chance while I was at college.”

The big man grinned:

“That was a wonderful idea. They really know a thing or two about sculpture. And when Marina saw your stuff on the internet, she said that we should ask you to make a statue of her.”

Marina added:

“I recently won the first place at the International, and now I think I’m pretty much at my peak. I don’t think it’s going to get much better, and I’d love to have this moment immortalized, if you get what I’m saying.”

The sculptor nodded eagerly:

“It’ll be a pleasure to do this. I have never worked like this, but I’m sure I will manage. We’ll have to figure out the perfect pose for you and … it is going to take some time to do. You are aware of that?”

The bodybuilder replied with a confident smile:

“Believe me, I am used to sacrifices and being uncomfortable.”

“But not because of me, right?”, Jerry laughed. “Nah. I really do my best to support her, after all, she is gorgeous, don’t you think?”

Colleen blushed:

“I don’t think I should say much, sir …”

He raised an eyebrow, then looked pleadingly at Marina:

“I am doing this wrong again, aren’t I?”

“Nah, darling, you’re doing great!”

They kissed, Marina’s strong hands caressing his cheeks. For Colleen, this only got more awkward. At last, she asked:

“Okay, so … what style do you have in mind?”

The couple separated, letting their kiss linger a bit, then Jerry declared:

“Marble, obviously. White. You just buy a piece and send me the invoice. You can pick two additional pieces for whatever you need at the same time. Consider it a bonus or something. Then you two come up with a cool classical pose, and you do your magic, Miss.”

Colleen nodded:

“Very well.” She hesitated: “Just so I can prepare mentally for it and maybe get the correct ‘costume’, if you will … What would you like to wear?”

The couple exchanged glances, then Marina said:

“I’d prefer to be in the nude, really. This is for us, and I don’t see any point in concealing any part of this body!”

Colleen got a little nervous in that moment.

“Alright. I will do my best. I will select the marble and give you a call as soon as everything is ready. And I will do my best to do you justice.”

The couple agreed and soon enough, they left, excited for the future piece of art.

Colleen, on the other hand, was feeling insecure and rather fascinated. The idea of working on a bodybuilder’s physique like this … It made her nervous. Then again, this was a once in a lifetime chance!

 

A few days later, Marina arrived at Colleen’s workshop. The sculptor had advised her to wear some cheap clothes that could be thrown away afterwards. The place was dusty and there were always bits of stone lying around, regardless of how much work Colleen invested in keeping it clean. The smell of dust lingered in the air. Marina was wearing a tracksuit that still somehow managed to emphasize her figure.

“Hello Colleen! I got your call and came as fast as I could. Is everything ready?”

The sculptor nodded eagerly. She was wearing a simple t-shirt, some dungarees and another scarf to protect her hair, as well as having a filter mask hanging from her neck and some goggles on her forehead. All in all, she was looking pretty trashy. The bodybuilder didn’t seem to mind.

“I like the casual look. Very steampunk.”

“Steampunk? I mean, the goggles, yes. And the mask … Okay. And the dungarees. I get what you’re saying.”

Marina smiled. Colleen was amazed by her tanned skin, her long blond hair and her casual sexiness. She sighed:

“Okay, so here’s how this is going to go. First, I’ll take some pictures from the various angles so I have a reference should anything go wrong or take longer. I’ll also have to film you so I can figure out how your body moves in detail. That can be amazingly useful! I mean, I once spent a week just filming my hand doing various movements.”

Marina nodded:

“I totally get that.”

“You do?”

“Sure. When you’re posing, you’re flexing all the various muscles, even in combinations that don’t normally occur. So you really have to figure out how to make them do what you want.”

“Oh. Wow! That is fascinating.”

“It’s one of the harder things about the sport. I mean, everybody can flex their biceps, but you gotta make it really pop. And there’s a lot to learn about that.”

Colleen nodded:

“Okay, that sounds like a thing I definitely need explained. And shown.”

“So, should I get undressed?”

“Please. Is the workshop warm enough for you? I could get a space heater.”

“No problem. I’ll tell you if I feel uncomfortable. Back when I started, I used to model for art classes and those places were always freezing!”

Colleen agreed:

“Oh yes. Those classes were bad! The professor always said: ‘Kids, I’ll get you a well-lit workshop and a bathroom. The rest is yours to bring. And if you’re starting to feel cold, it’s time to work faster!’.”

Marina chuckled sarcastically:

“That sounds like a wonderful working environment.”

“Yeah. Really made us all want to leave quickly. But it worked for me.”

Marina unzipped her jacket and pulled it off, folding it carefully and setting it on a nearby chair. Colleen observed her with fascination. The other woman revealed a pair of arms that was positively built! Every bit of her body was buff and hard, with all the veins visible and even some lines of her muscles’ striations noticeable.

“Whoa. This is cool!”

“You like it?”

“Like it? Love it! This is going to be amazing!”

Marina humored her with a few flexes, then said:

“I should probably continue getting out of my clothes, right?”

“Just let me take a few pictures first. Do the first thing again!”

Marina flexed again, making her biceps swell. Colleen snapped away, switching positions quickly to get as many angles as possible. At last, she was finished and asked:

“Okay, stupid question, but … can I touch your arm?”

Marina raised an eyebrow:

“Sure. Why not?”

“Really? Cool!”

The sculptor set her fingers on the other woman’s biceps and started running them up and down the bulge, taking in the structure and the texture. She started humming quietly to herself and followed the various lines and shapes. Marina was a little surprised by this level of attention but let Colleen have her fun.

Eventually, she asked:

“Are you looking for something special?”

“No, not in that way. The thing is, the stone has a certain, that’s not the real word, but … flow? Like a direction it takes? So if you work on it, you can’t really go against it? It … wants to take a certain shape.”

She blushed:

“Okay, that sounds stupid and esoteric, but in a less dumb way, it’s true. So as a sculptor, I have to know where I want to go and what shapes I will create and apply those to the way of the material? Is this understandable?”

“I guess? I have no idea of sculpture.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You just have a different medium. I work with stone, and you work with flesh.”

“Alright, this sounds really, really gross.”

“Uh, yes. But my point stands.”

Marina hesitated, then said:

“I guess in a way, you’re right. It’s a kind of sculpture, really. I try to figure out a certain harmony of proportions I want to achieve, and then I work to make the relevant muscles grow in some ways or shrink in others. And when I get my massages after the workout, it’s kind of shaping them like clay.”

“What do you mean?”

“The masseur breaks up the muscles when they’re strained so they can get bigger when healing again. It’s very hard to do and they tend not to like it, but it’s essential. Otherwise, the muscles grow very slow.”

“So you really decide where and how your body grows?”

“Yeah. That’s the whole point. Otherwise, I couldn’t have symmetry. My legs have to be balanced with my arms, the development of my chest must match my abs … I can’t just grow my muscles at random, it wouldn’t look good.”

Colleen was impressed:

“I never would have thought this was so complicated!”

“You wouldn’t believe it! I mean, it’s a very nerdy thing to do … You have so many variables and there are tons of gurus and people spreading myths, making everything way more complicated than I would have thought back when I started. You really have to be careful.”

“In what way? You mean drugs?”

“Not just that. Seriously, you have to be careful about everything. People will recommend you exercises that could bust your joints, diets that could ruin your liver and don’t get me started about supplements! And yes, the drugs will fuck you up. It’s an arms race and if you want to win, you can’t allow yourself to lag behind.”

“That sounds … terrifying? I mean, I think of myself as a skeptical person, but having to double-check every bit of my life …”

“As I said, it’s nerdy. Either you love it, or you don’t. And if you don’t, you won’t go far.”

“Okay …”

“The thing is, getting fit is easy, staying fit is hard. It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon. If you don’t stick to your schedule every day, you’re not going to go far. If you can’t set aside two to three hours every day just for training, eating and recovery, you’re still going to look good, but you’re not going to win any contests.”

Colleen had Marina continue posing her arm, then went on to take in her shoulder and back muscles. She asked:

“About that … What’s with those contests? I mean, basically, it’s just standing around in a bikini, right?”

Marina laughed:

“You wish. It’s not just a beauty contest. Before a show, you’ve been on a harsh diet for weeks and on the day itself, you’re starved, tired and thirsty. And then, you must focus and really pose your muscles to the best effect. Muscles which are, at that point, pretty much exhausted. And it has to look elegant and feminine … The men have it easier. They can just strut around and wave their arms around, but if you do that as a woman, you’re instantly marked down.”

Colleen’s fingers went down Marina’s back.

“Wow … This is astonishing. You have like a little Christmas tree back here.”

“Yeah. That was a lot of work, and I had luck with my genetics!”

“It sounds so complicated. And the contests … I guess it’s worth it with the prize money, right?”

Marina broke into enormous laughter. She barely managed to keep a hold of herself. She even snorted, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Did I say something funny?”

The musclewoman wiped a tear from her eye and said, slowly calming down:

“Kinda. The thing is, the prize money is a joke. If I were doing it for the money, I’d be a fool. Nope. Either you do it for its own sake, or you don’t do it at all.”

Colleen nodded:

“Okay, this I can understand. This is pretty much my situation, or any artist’s, really.”

Marina agreed:

“Yes. I think it’s the same situation.”

The sculptor examined her butt. To tease and impress her, Marina tightened her glutes, making them shift into a mass of ripped muscle.

“Wow … You know what, I think I start to get the fascination …”

Marina tensed her ass even more, turning it into a brutally shredded pair of steel.

“Thank you! That’s the best compliment one can get in my line of work …” The bodybuilder played around some more and said: “If you’re interested, I could give you a beginner’s workout routine that should allow for some quick basic gains. Don’t expect to get anywhere near my level with it, but it would definitely firm you up, and bring some nice definition … Especially since you’re already quite strong!”

“I’d love that. Thank you!” She traced the dents on the side of her glutes and then asked: “Okay, now show me those legs …”

Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

Offline El_Roy_1999

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #223 on: May 11, 2022, 08:55:42 pm »
Okay, everybody, I felt like publishing a full story! Here you are. It was inspired by thetropican, who is awesome, and I had a lot of fun writing it.

If you enjoy the story and want to support me, you can buy it here:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1146743



Without further ado, here it is:

The Diva

The doctor frowned.

“Madame, I am very sorry, but it was to be expected. At your age, a fall can be life-changing.”

The actress raised an eyebrow. At her age! Madonna! So this was how it felt! Years, no, decades on the silver screen, fame, fortune, adoration by her many admirers, and now, at last, she had become decrepit.

“But doctor, it isn’t broken! Isn’t there some therapy you can prescribe to me?”

The doctor ran his hand over Sonia Laurent’s hip again, testing its range of motion.

“Well, the thing is, osteoporosis has set in massively already, and I’m afraid that we cannot do much. Regular exercise with a physiotherapist, supplements to improve bone health … Unless you would be willing to join a study for an experimental treatment a colleague of mine has been developing …”

“Experimental?” The diva was a little taken aback by the suggestion. “Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

“Not at all. It has already gone through all the necessary tests, and this is the pre-rollout. One last round of tests to discover as many side-effects, good or bad, that haven’t been discovered yet. There would be a compensation, of course …”

“A compensation?” The diva laughed. “My dear Dottore, this is all very nice, but … please, donate the money to children’s cancer research or something. A Sonia Laurent doesn’t accept payment for things that are good for her!”

He smiled, nodded and said:

“Very well. Then I will enroll you in the study and we can hopefully start treatment in a week.”

 

A week later, the maid announced that the doctor had arrived. Sonia Laurent pushed herself up from her chair with her cane. She detested that thing, but it was a necessity now. She had at least managed to choose a stylish one, whose wood grain matched her golden-brown locks, but it was a sad reminder of her frailty.

She walked over to the villa’s entrée, careful to conceal the cane for the last steps and making it disappear behind her dark red robe with a simple swing of her hand. Now she stood straight and statuesque as she had always done. She smiled:

“Dottore! Welcome! I am so grateful you came here.”

“It’s always a pleasure, Madame …” He gave her a slight bow.

She accepted his hand graciously and then swept him to the salon as easily as ever. The thought of getting better soon made her feel hopeful and confident. While the maid served them coffee and the doctor admired the view of Lake Geneva, Sonia was quivering with anticipation.

At last, she couldn’t resist anymore:

“Did you bring it, doctor?”

He tore himself from the sight and nodded, then pulled a bottle of pills from his suitcase. He handed it to the diva.

“Here you are. Because this is all so experimental and new, there’s no fancy blister yet. The bottle will do, though. You are supposed to take ten pills every day, two in the morning, and then every three hours through the day. I recommend to setting an alarm or something, because this drug really needs to be taken precisely.”

The actress smiled benignly:

“Don’t worry, Dottore, it is my bones that are weak, not my mind.”

As if to demonstrate, she took out a reasonably modern smartphone, and with taps of her perfectly manicured nails, she set up the alarms. She gave him a proud smile. He nodded.

“You will have to report to me on the effects. Please be precise about them, I think it will help a lot of people.”

“Certainly, Dottore. I will keep a diary!”

“Thank you, Madame.”

“Will you stay for brunch, Dottore?”

“I’m sorry, I have further patients to attend to. Good luck, Madame, and hopefully, this drug will help you.”

She wanted to get up to accompany him to the door, but her hips rebelled, so she excused herself and had the maid take over.

The actress took the bottle and looked at it eagerly. This would help!

 

"Madame Laurent, I am not sure what you did, but I am impressed!"

Sonia looked at her Pilates instructor. The woman was terrifyingly fit, her body without an ounce of fat, and seemingly built of tightly wound wire. The first time she had met her, Sonia had wanted to feed her. She had even offered to prepare her own homemade ravioli for her, but the instructor had thanked her and said something about "carbs". In a way, it was her loss, wasn't it?

Still, right now, the young woman was astonished by her employer's performance. After finishing an exercise routine that normally completely exhausted her, Sonia found herself wanting more.

"Thank you. I have changed some little things about my regular treatments, and I'm glad they work!"

"Seriously, Madame, you seem to have recovered ten years of fitness!"

Sonia blushed. Now this was praise she could enjoy!

"Maybe we could try something a little more intense next time?"

"I would be very glad. Let's get you massaged, and in two days, I'll bring you some exercises that just might challenge you!"

The old woman smiled. She hadn't expected it, but maybe those drugs actually worked?

 

"Madame, I don't know what happened, but I suggest you continue it!"

"Do you like the results, Dottore?"

"Absolutely! I wish all my patients had improvements like this! Look!"

He showed her a printout. There were so many small numbers. The actress adjusted her glasses and tried to read them. She shook her head. Somehow, her vision had once again deteriorated. She tried to move the paper around and squinted. No chance. Somehow, it got all difficult to read like that.

"Could you tell me, Dottore?"

"Yes, of course. I … This wasn't courteous of me … See, these parameters tell me that your bone density has improved and your muscular strength has increased a bit. Also, your heart rate is better and your blood sugar has dropped."

"So this is good?"

"It's excellent!"

"Thank you!"

"It wasn't me, Madame, it was your effort and discipline! Did you change anything else other than the medication?"

She smiled widely:

“Oh yes! So many things! I asked my therapist, and she set up a whole programme for me. I am now doing some exercises for my heart every day, it’s called cardio, obviously, and some light musculation. It feels very new, you know?”

“This is astonishing. I didn’t expect it to work in this way.” He seemed a little doubtful. “Madame, I must admit, the drug was only supposed to strengthen your bones, not to cause these changes.”

“Then write them down as an unexpected, but welcome side-effect! I can not thank you enough!”

He blushed. The diva had kept her charm in every way and he did feel drawn back to the days of his youth when he had adored her as all the other young men. He brushed his thinning hair from his forehead and smiled:

“I will. So, for now, we will just continue the therapy, is that right?”

“That would be marvelous, Dottore!”

She got up in one fluid movement. The doctor stared at this. That’s when he noticed.

“Madame, didn’t you use a cane?”

“Dottore, ‘used’ is the word. I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t need it anymore. It’s a miracle. I threw it away.”

The doctor couldn’t do anything else other than smile. In her exultation, she kissed his cheeks and bade him goodbye. He stayed behind, his face glowing and his breath still.

 

“Bisnonna, what happened to you? You look so young!”

“I do, Tesoro?” Sonia took her great-granddaughter on her lap and bounced her up and down. Lifting her was easy and the little girl giggled as she rode on her knees.

“Yes! You look almost like Nonna Roberta. Only she is not as strong as you!”

Her daughter-in-law frowned, but Sonia didn’t let this spoil her mood. Instead, she lifted the little girl high, her arms somehow strong enough to do this.

That’s when it happened.

The girl swung her little legs and kicked against Sonia’s glasses, sending them flying. Instantly, the girl’s mother, Francesca, stormed at her and panicked:

“Nonna! Are you alright?”

To her surprise, Sonia was fine. Sure, the little kick had stung a bit, but that was all. And she suddenly realized that she could see them all perfectly well without her glasses.

Better even. Somehow, that treatment must have fixed her eyes. Was that even possible?

Francesca brought her the glasses and the girl, Claudia, tried to put the glasses on her. She almost managed to poke one of the temples in her eye. Sonia took them from her, folded them and hung them in her cleavage.

“Don’t worry, Tesoro, I think I can see you just fine.”

She could see that the other women were a bit confused by this new development.

 

After a nice tennis match, always doubles, Sonia walked over to the country club’s terrace. Time for some coffee. The other couple was still recuperating after the terrible dishing-out she had served them, and her partner had disappeared into the shower to … shower? She had an idea what he was doing. Men!

For her, the game had been a pleasant pastime which had barely made her sweat. It was astonishing how nimble her limbs had become, how fast she could run and stop and how easy her eyes could follow the ball. It was all so simple!

Anyway, she strode to her usual table and sat down, enjoying the warm sun. She was wearing a large straw hat and a gorgeous white sleeveless dress she had recently bought to match her rejuvenated figure. It was very simply cut, but looked wonderful on her. The training had somehow recovered her entire body, tightening her skin and even filling out her breasts once more. She had no idea how that even worked, but once again, they were real and spectacular!

She was quite certain that they were bigger and fuller than ever before, but that didn’t inconvenience her in the slightest. She did wear a shawl over her shoulders and chest when she was in public, she had to dress her age, after all. But now that she was in private, she could just enjoy the sun on her cleavage and a cup of espresso from her favorite waiter.

Pierre did a double-take when she took off her sunglasses and smiled:

“The usual, Madame?”

“Please. And I think I will reward myself with a slice of cake. What would you recommend?”

“Well, we have an excellent …”

He was cut off by a commotion. Someone was running across the lawn, pursued by a group of security guards and a rather breathless gardener. The man stormed on, and she immediately spotted the telltale signs of the paparazzo. The camera, the soft shoes, the sunglasses …

One of the guards shouted a “Stop, fils de pute!” and one of them tried to tackle him. The young man, evaded this and to the spectators’ surprise, jumped on a garden shed, then vaulted the high walls of the country club.

He was gone.

The guards ran on to the entrance to maybe catch him outside, but the gardener gave up and limped back to the terrace. Sonia saw that the old man was completely exhausted. She patted the chair next to her and ordered another espresso and a tall glass of water for the poor man.

He thanked her profusely, and when he recognized her, he blushed, and looked at his hands instead. She smiled and said:

“Don’t worry. Thank you for trying to catch this … vampire. He certainly was no Tazio Secchiaroli.”

“I just spotted him as I was trimming the bushes. He must have snuck in over the wall.”

“After this jump, I believe it. Maybe he should earn his money as an acrobat!”

She laughed and the gardener smiled.

“I just hope he didn’t trouble the guests …”

“Bah! I doubt that any newspapers are still interested in old people like me …”

 

“Dannazione!” Sonia stared at the cover of her newspaper. She despised the yellow press and never bought their issues, but apparently, this picture was considered newsworthy enough to put it on the cover of a serious publication! The horrible creature had actually managed to take a picture of her just as she took off her sunglasses and … she had to admit, it was a good picture, and she was looking wonderful. The headline was bad, though: “The Immortal – Sonia Laurent is in the shape of her life!”

She rubbed her temples as her maid handed her the two pills and a glass of water. What foolishness would come from this?

Her phone rang a moment later. The maid went to pick up for her as she took the pills and washed them down.

“Madame, it’s Renato, your agent!”

“What? But why would he call?”

She got up and took the phone.

“Renato? How nice of you to call! It’s not my birthday, you know?”

“Sonia, Bellissima, I am not calling on courtesy, but on business!”

“On business? But Renato, Caro, I have retired. No more movies for me!”

“You know what they say, mai dire mai! I have an offer for you, and the producer wants to pay any price for you!”

“But … I haven’t acted in years. And my look … I don’t want to play any grandmothers any more …”

“Ragazza, have you looked in the mirror lately? Or in the newspapers for that matter? They all want you! And the man, let’s just put it this way: He is one who would make Dino de Laurentiis look sane!”

“Stop. Enough. What kind of movie are we talking here, Renato?”

 

“Diva! Divissima!”

Sonia was a little irritated by the man at her feet. This was the famous man whose work had relaunched a dozen careers out of nothing? This was the auteur that still manage to bring the masses to the theaters?

She smiled. As she had learned, in situations were you can’t do anything else, smile.

The man groveled at her feet. She could see his bald spot and his longish hair and wonder what might have possessed her to come here and meet him. It certainly wasn’t the money, although the producer had agreed to the frankly rather obscene sum Renato had demanded without even discussing. Truly, the ways of Hollywood were changing …

No, it was something else … Her transformation might have changed something about her perception of herself too. If she had, well, not exactly hidden from the public, she had tried to maintain her mystique and her legend. No one wanted to see a decrepit old woman that had once been Sonia Laurent!

As she was now, though … Well, this was a Sonia Laurent people would adore. This wouldn’t ruin her legend, it would expand it, make it even more fascinating, even immortal!

Maybe it was that …

“Signor Barese, are you alright?”

The man looked up to her like a child on prima communione and sighed:

“I am more than alright … I have never been better. To be in your presence …”

She felt flattered, she would admit it. But the man … He was also … annoying. His interest in her feet … She had met all sorts, but he was rather intense.

Well, maybe she had to handle it in an appropriate way. She breathed in deeply, her now fuller bust straining slightly against the dark green satin dress she had put on for the occasion, and said forcefully:

“Get up and talk to me.”

The man instantly complied, kneeling in front of her and then getting to his feet. He negligently rearranged his hair and then smiled slyly at her.

“Of course, Signora.”

His accent was atrocious, even with such a simple word. She kept smiling.

“I have skimmed the script you sent me, and I do not understand. What are you trying to achieve?”

Suddenly, the awkwardness disappeared from the man’s face and body. He was in his element.

“Signora, the film will be called ‘Lord of Radiance - Chronicles of the Empyrean War’. It will be an homage, no, a veneration of the classic sci-fi epics of the age! I have been dreaming of this film for ages and now, my producer has finally agreed! It will have it all. I have already found the perfect crew for the practical effects. I have secured a cache of original film stock I will use. I even managed to locate one of Kubrick’s original NASA lenses from Barry Lyndon! It is in marvelous shape and the director of photography is already getting used to it. It will be incredible! We will be shooting at Cinecittà, which you might find practical …”

She nodded slowly as the man’s enthusiasm almost swept her away. It was a bit hard to follow all those things. He was already talking about the score, about trying to figure out the correct composition of the music, the idea of hiring Giorgio Moroder, or even getting one of Morricone’s students to create a pastiche …

At last, she raised her hand like a schoolgirl, with maybe a hint of mockery.

“Signor Barese, this is all wonderful and I am excited for it, but … please … Explain it to me as you would a child. What is the point of the movie?”

“The film. It’s a film. I don’t do movies.”

“The film, then. What are you trying to say?”

He looked at her. The faint amusement, the annoyance, the mockery, the superiority …

“You are perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

He grabbed his camera and took a picture of her.

“This will be it. You will see. It will be incredible.”

 

“You humans love the happy ending, the ‘… and they lived happily ever after’. I have studied you and your stories and they are your greatest delusion! Happiness … forever? It’s not even foolish, it’s a contradiction.”

Sonia towered over the boyish young man that was a quarter her age. He was quite short, and was probably about her size, but she was wearing those absurd heels and the bizarre golden armor was just making her look even taller with its giant helmet with its golden plumes and horns. It looked like a Jack Kirby-Thierry Mugler-collaboration, and it weighed a ton, though she could deal with it quite well. The thing encased her body all over, while somehow displaying every bit of her muscular physique. While it was certainly odd, it did make her feel powerful …

The young actor pushed out his chin:

“No! You are wrong! We will win! And we will be together!”

She walked down the stairs of the throne room confidently. She had practiced this for two hours yesterday, just to make sure she didn’t take a tumble. The whole hall was blacklit, and though the set designer had found a way to combine the black marble/PVC-look with something offering a bit of a grip, she still had to be very careful.

Sonia could literally sense the sharp breath of the director as she managed her descent on the first try, looking regal.

She was now upon him, looking down on the boy from a foot above. She looked him in the eyes. For a moment, she felt the lines she was given. This movie was rather shlocky, and everyone was encouraged to chew any available scenery, and yet, sometimes, the script allowed them a certain vulnerability.

“And so you will.” She smiled softly, as if remembering her own path. “For one precious moment, the fairy tale will come true. Maybe you defeat me. Maybe you kill me. Maybe I flee. You celebrate, you kiss your bride, you free the oppressed. You end their suffering.” Her smile turned sardonic. “Then, slowly, the world will reassert itself. You won’t break the old relations. You won’t be able to dismiss my servants. You won’t hold this ragtag alliance of yours together. And …” She sighed. “You will find out that marrying the princess is easier than being married to her.”

She caressed his cheek. The young man shot her a look of disgust.

“It will be a slow, hidden change. You will come to tolerate the casual cruelty. And as you do, you will lose your allies. It won’t be quick. You will only notice when it’s already too late. Then, finally, you will either become like me, or understand you should have left me in charge …”

She could feel her intensity radiating down on him. His face was twisted with rage:

“No! NO! NEVER!”

He screamed at her and, he would later be unable to say why, pushed her.

For a moment, she felt panic run through her. The crew gasped. The young man realized what he had done. With the costume, she would fall over and hurt herself. Worse still, she would look stupid! The whole scene would …

Instinctively, somehow, instead of taking a step back or tumbling down, she caught his hand, and just tossed him away, her muscles tensing, but holding her balance.

The spell broke.

Mister Barese’s face was transfixed by the scene. He stared at them with gaping mouth and then finally yelled “Cut!”, while already running on the stage, probably to save her from falling over. In mid-sprint, he realized she wasn’t going to, stopped, slid on the marble and fell to his knees, somehow managing to upend himself and land next to her.

“Brava! Bravissima! Thank you, Signora, I am … I am floored. You are truly divine!”

She stared at him, raised her hand to calm him, the young man got up at the same time, terrified by what had just happened, as her assistant came over to support her if she wanted to get off the scene to sit down …

The whole situation was escalating around her, but somehow, she felt incredibly calm. To her surprise, the only thing that worried her was whether they had caught the whole thing on camera.

 

Late that evening, with the shooting of the day finished, everybody tried to relax. They had finished most of the scenes in the throne room, with only the big fight waiting for them near the end of the schedule. It was a warm, surprisingly lush night, and Sonia was happy to be out of the costume and back in her comfortable everyday clothes. The crew was finishing for the day, which would probably take another hour or so, so she walked over to the young man, who was on his phone.

As she approached, he blushed:

“Ma’am, I didn’t want to hurt you. Please accept my apology! It was … I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s nothing. A flight of passion … This is what it is all about. Did you hurt yourself when you landed?”

“No, I caught myself. I practiced judo since I was a little kid, and you basically get tossed around all the time.”

“Good! Still, I think you owe me …”

“Uh … What do you have in mind?”

“How about we join the caterers for an hour or so and you assist me in making ravioli for the crew? I think they deserve it after all the excitement!”

He laughed:

“Ma’am, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

She flashed him a smile, took his hand and led him to the catering area.

 

The young person on the screen was very excited.

“Okay, everybody, here it is: The reaction video so many of you have requested! Seriously, my social media have been flooded, flooded I say, by you! telling me to look at this, and you know me … I have great self-control. I literally managed to not look at it immediately, so, everybody, you are now going to witness me, StarA, react to the trailer of ‘Lord of Radiance - Chronicles of the Empyrean War’ by Gus Barese. So, let’s look at it …”

“Hooolyyy … I need to stop right now. Did you see her? This is Sonia Laurent. The Sonia Laurent. She looks … incredible. Is that makeup? It’s gotta be. I mean, Barese said he wouldn’t do any digital effects ... Everybody, this is Oscar material … I mean, if they really managed to make her look like that … Wow. This is … okay, get this. Sonia Laurent is over eighty. And this … Whoa. Whoa. And that outfit. Gotta admit, I don’t know if any current actress or actor would be in that shape, other than right during filming some over the top superhero movie! I need to see more …”

“Stop. Stop. Stop … Wow. I have to take a breath here. This is … incredible. Even the trailer says masterpiece. The duel scene … You see, this is an allusion to the 1919 lost film ‘Mistrz Słońca’ by Łukasz Góragranicz. The main characters fight using the blades of the sun, and they did that early special effect by literally painting over the film. It’s a similar technique used in ‘Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari’ a year later.”

“Seriously, how is she even moving in that outfit … And those muscles … You know I love classic action movies of the 1980ies, but … wow … Sonia Laurent is giving Linda Hamilton a run for her money here! For the friends of corny movies: Rachel McLish was smaller than that in Aces: Iron Eagle III. And the thing is, not to dump on world class athletes, but it’s obvious that not only does Sonia Laurent look incredible, she also can act!”

“Everybody, this is the smirk that launches a thousand memes!”

 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome … Sonia Laurent!”

The band played the theme of The Ride of the Dead King and the actress walked in from backstage. She was wearing an emerald green strapless gown that clung to her muscular physique. Her tanned, ripped shoulders were on full display and she had all the elegance of a prima ballerina at the peak of her career. The host got up and came to greet her, somewhat dwarfed by her due to the vertiginous heels she was wearing. First, he offered her his hand, but then she pulled him in and embraced him, kissing him on both cheeks.

He turned to the audience with a blushing, delighted smile, gestured at her, she set a hand against her broad, inviting chest, gave him a delighted smile. The spectators cheered, she threw kisses at them, then he led her to his table.

They both sat down as the applause died down and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Sonia, it’s amazing to have you here!”

“I am delighted to be invited, Frederico.” Somehow, her accent was shining through a little more, and her deep, breathy voice only made her more alluring.

“Just say Freddy. Everybody does.”

“I will do my best, but you know I am an old woman.” She gave him a mock nana-like look.

He played along:

“Yes, obviously, this is the first thing I thought of when I saw you: ‘she looks like a fragile little old lady.’ Must be someone’s grandmother …”

They laughed. The audience joined in.

“I just try to keep fit. Regular exercise does wonders!”

“Sonia, I exercise regularly.” The audience chuckled. “Once a month is regular!” He made a gesture of submission. “But … this … just how strong are you?”

“Ah, just a little, you know. I no longer have to ask my grandson to open the jars in the kitchen when I make lasagna …”

“I hope he doesn’t feel useless now.”

“No, he is still there to help eat the lasagna!”

They laughed.

“Seriously, though, I … I have to ask. Do you want to arm-wrestle?”

The audience cheered.

“What is that?”

“Uh … You put your arms like this, and then you push …”

“Ah! Il braccio di ferro! The arm of iron!”

“Is this what it is called? Amazing. I like that. How do you say it? Bracha di ferow?”

“Braccio di ferro!”

“I could listen to you roll your Rs all day, you know?”

She smiled, charmed by the compliment. He asked:

“So, braccio di ferro?”

“If you insist … But don’t blame me, Freddy, if you win.”

“I doubt I will.”

They clasped and pushed. It went back and forth a bit, but soon, Sonia realized she was indeed stronger than the young man. She liked that. When she did slam the back of his hand against the table, the audience clapped. Sonia was amazed and decided she’d have to talk to the doctor again …

 

“Bisnonna, why are you all painted? Are you going to an art exhibit?”

Claudia frowned at her great-grandmother with the practiced look of a child used to the grown-ups’ weirdness. Her granddaughter had really needed someone to take care of the girl for a week and since Sonia’s daughter Roberta felt a little tired after her hip replacement, the task of watching over Claudia had fallen to her.

The girl had certainly livened up the house since, even if it meant putting a dent in Sonia’s preparations. After much hesitation, she had finally caved in to her own pride and decided to compete in a bodybuilding show.

The little girl had been a little confused by the whole concept, but after explaining that it was a kind of pageant, she understood. Of course, then she asked: “Are they all as old as you there? And why do you need to get painted?”

The trainer she had hired to prepare for the show chuckled:

“That’s so the judges can see her muscles better.”

“But her muscles are so big already. How can they even not see them?”

Sonia couldn’t help agreeing. The last half year had been incredible. The doctor had increased the dosage of her drug and the effect had surprised them all. Somehow, it really stimulated the growth of her muscles, and she had quickly loaded up on mass, going from a level appropriate for fitness to one of lightweight bodybuilding, bordering on midweight. Also, it had rejuvenated her a little more, looking more like a woman in her forties. It was hard to tell. Her face radiated experience and confidence, while her skin suggested she wasn’t a day over thirty. She loved it!

The trainer continued applying the fake tan and the makeup. Sonia explained:

“It’s like in film, you know? The lights are very strong so you can see everything well, but if you use so much light, everybody looks really pale. This is why actors have to wear makeup on stage and in the movies.”

“Is this why the women always wake up with lipstick in the morning?”

“In the movies, yes. Or if you had a marvelous evening and forgot to take off the makeup.”

“Because I used my makeup once, and when I woke up, there were smudges all over my pillow and Mamma was really furious! She said that Nonna Roberta shouldn’t always give me stupid presents! And then Nonna Roberta was angry when I told her. And then Mamma was angry with me because I told her.”

“But you apologized, didn’t you?”

“I tried to clean it first.”

“Did it make everything worse?”

Claudia couldn’t help grinning.

“Yes!”

“There. I think you learned something.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

The trainer smirked and said:

“Alright, this should do it. Now we try the suit, okay?”

“Please.”

Claudia watched as the coach helped her great-grandmother put on the emerald green posing suit.

“It’s so sparkly! I love it. Mamma says I can’t have a swimsuit like that.”

“She is right.”

“Bah! I want a sparkly suit too!”

“You just have to ask your Nonna …”

The trainer had to repress a laugh.

Finally dressed, Sonia set herself in position. Her body was impressive, alright. The treatment had tightened her skin over those muscles and they looked all tense and energetic now. Her pecs supported her revitalized breasts, her abs were cobblestones carved from her tanned skin, and her biceps bulged hard from her strong arms. She went through the poses, flexing them in turn and showing off their mass and symmetry. Claudia followed her movements, obviously impressed. The trainer called out the various poses and said:

“Very well. I think you might be able to win this!”

 

“Over the last decades, the sport of bodybuilding has existed mostly out of media attention. After a burst of popularity due to the success of Arnold Schwarzenegger as a mainstream actor, it had returned to a niche occupation. Now, to the world’s surprise, the comeback of Sonia Laurent and her subsequent athletic career have reinvigorated the sport and it has become surprisingly popular among older women!”

The presenter smiled at the camera as it panned out.

“Today on Verba Manent, we talk about the challenge to female esthetics presented by Sonia Laurent in her new role as a bodybuilder. For this, we have invited philosopher Emmanuele Specchia, political scientist Diana Lancia, theologian Pio Bordoni and of course, Sonia Laurent herself.”

The camera showed each participant in turn. The bearded philosopher with his subtle smile and tweed jacket, the short-haired, slim scientist with her wary eyes and black turtleneck, the priest, his bushy dark eyebrows contrasting his bald head and his slight nervousness shimmering in his eyes. For the occasion, he was dressed in the simple suit of a priest, collar visible.

The camera lingered on Sonia, however. She was wearing an incredible robe, cut from navy blue silk, shining and marvelous. The dress showed off her rounded, strong shoulders, the auburn hair cascading down her back. Her chest was broad now, supporting an ample bosom and tapering down to a slim, strong waist. Her legs were columnlike and powerful and she was wearing simple sandals, that only underlined the absolute ease with which she lived her sexiness.

She smiled at the camera, her eyes smoldering.

The camera returned to the presenter, a tanned gentleman of indeterminate age and impeccable sense of dress.

“Let us begin right away with Signora Laurent. In a way, Signora, you are a reverse Schwarzenegger, aren’t you?”

She smiled and replied:

“But weren’t we both at our strongest in the eighties?”

The philosopher produced a chuckle, while the scientist still seemed vaguely intimidated. The priest seemed a tad confused.

“I meant because you were a successful actress first, and then a bodybuilder.”

“Yes, I think you might be on to something. Although we both started our careers by being famous for our chests!”

Another chuckle, a frown from Diana Lancia and a blush from Monsignor Bordoni.

The host nodded:

“You are right, of course. So, tell us. What is it like to win the Ms. Olympia?”

“It’s a bit like winning an Oscar, but you have to worry less about your dress.”

The host, normally known for his stoic nature, bit his lip for a moment.

“It is impressive. Let us just take a look at your presentation.”

On the screen, Sonia walked on stage her heavyweight body a perfect sculpture of muscle. Her symmetry was obvious even to the casual observer and her physique was amazingly defined. She was wearing a dark green posing suit which revealed everything. With a smile at the judges which almost suggested a faint timidity, she started her presentation. There was a perfect fluidity in her movement, something which was even more unbelievable given her age. Every flex was precise and intense, making her strong muscles bulge and harden at will.

Her show was more of a dance, full of little, elegant movements that really teased the audience. She let her glutes jiggle for a fraction of a moment before hardening them with a quick flex, then demonstrated the control over her back muscles with a wavy motion that reminded the spectators of an Indian dance …

As the clip ended, the camera showed the reactions. The philosopher was clearly impressed, while the political scientist was obviously still making up her mind. The theologian, though, was absolutely outraged. Sonia smiled enigmatically, just enjoying the moment.

The host asked:

“Monsignore, I believe you want to say something right away?”

The cleric took a deep breath and launched into a tirade:

“What is this? Why is this even shown on the television? This is not just sinful. This is an affront against God himself! Look at it: This woman has always been a public danger. We thought she mellowed with age and understood her role, but this? This is …”

Diana Lancia leaned over to him and raised an eyebrow:

“You had your difficulties averting your eyes, Monsignor …”

“I was only looking to be indignant over this.”

There was the slightest smile on the old woman’s face:

“Then you did very well. I am proud that you are still able to fulfil this important role in our society.”

The priest glared at her, while the philosopher leaned back and tried to find some common ground.

“Monsignor, how about you consider Signora Laurent’s performance as art? How different is her work from the sculptures of Donatello or, for that matter, of the paintings of Michelangelo? You do have a fair share of very … muscular women in the Sistine Chapel. And few of them are as amazingly, well, detailed, as Signora Laurent?”

The theologian’s eyes narrowed, while the political scientist bit down on her finger.

Sonia smiled. She adored this whole situation …

 

Epilogue

The sun was out and the lake was glittering in the distance. It was a marvelous early morning and the air was still cool, which suited Sonia fine. Today was arms day and she was going to make the most of it. A few years ago, she had a special custom rubber surface installed on this part of her garden which could deal with the enormous weights she had been using lately.

The dumbbells she had prepared today were special one-of-a-kind pieces, constructed from a special alloy that would challenge her with its weight while not getting overly massive. Having built her muscles for over twenty years now, her mass had grown so much that it was quite useful to not bog down her range of motion with big lumps of iron. Also, she enjoyed the elegance as well as the practicality.

As she started pumping out slow, painfully controlled repetitions, she couldn’t help realizing just how lucky she had been. Some scientists had finally discovered that the drug she had used back then interacted with some genetic sequence activated by an epigenetic trigger or some other biological vocabulary, and this had triggered her transformation and progress.

They were working on making this replicable, but for now, it was still a miracle by itself.

Sonia no had stopped competing in bodybuilding shows a decade ago. When invited, she would occasionally appear for a guest posing, displaying the famous “Laurent Body”, which had been immortalized in the trophy of the Classico d’Italia, usually referred to as the Sonia Laurent Classic.

By now, she had outgrown that little statue, but she still found it all very flattering.

Competing didn’t make much sense, and she considered it somewhat demeaning for the other participants. Even the guest presentations had the tendency to ruin everybody’s palate.

Not many celebrities had actually spawned a church of sorts that actually venerated her as a goddess, even if she found the idea both blasphemous and somewhat concerning. Tragically, Sonia had to agree with her venerators: She was, in her way, superhuman.

She finished her set and lowered the absurdly heavy dumbbell on the rubber, then stretched and flexed her arms. The mass of ripped muscle that brusquely erupted from it was incredible. She wondered if she would ever have enough …

She bounced her pecs just for fun and then ran her fingers down her cobblestone abs. Being massive and feeling young and strong was just incredible! At almost a hundred years old, she had to admit to a certain pride in her physique.

Just as she was starting to feel the tingle of lust, she heard her phone beep its alarm.

She had to get ready! Claudia was going to be here in an hour, and she still had to put everything away, shower, and get dressed. Over the last year, her great-granddaughter had started training with her once a week to compensate for all the sitting at the university. The girl wasn’t making much progress, obviously, but they were having fun and it was a thing they could enjoy together.

As Sonia quickly put away the weights and wiped down her equipment, she wondered whether Claudia also had this special gene set. Maybe she would be able to really train with her one day …

She would see. After all, she had all the time in the world!
Find my stories on Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ElRoy1999

Commissions available on request.

Offline thetropican

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Re: Authors Now Publishing Their Books
« Reply #224 on: May 16, 2022, 07:20:23 pm »
Amazing story El_Roy_1999!  :rock:

Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fiction  |  Authors Now Publishing Their Books
 

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