Glad to hear that you enjoy the story and thanks for the karma! Here's part three.
When we came closer to the house, I saw that it looked more like a castle. It consisted of large stone bricks, but it appeared to be a work still in progress. No servants came out to welcome us and as we entered the stables to return Hector, I noticed there were no stable boys at work either. It made me wonder how Aunt Cindy ran this household, where servants were there had to be enough work for several men. I considered the possibility that she might live alone on this huge estate but figured that even for a person as strong as my aunt this would be impossible. The fields covered several square miles and looked very well tended and I had seen on a map that the nearest village was thirty miles away. Cindy could never get enough food to provide for her doubtlessly large appetite without some help.
“Where are your servants?” I asked. “Just out of curiosity: how many people do you have working for you here? I mean, the place is huge.”
“Servants? I’ve never wanted those. For one thing, people are born to be free and for another, I firmly believe that if you want to get a job done right, you have to do it yourself. There’s nothing any servant can do that I can’t do better.” She must have seen the doubtful look in my eyes, for she added: “And no, I’m not boasting.”
She gently led Hector into the stable where I saw several horses who were almost as big but not quite. Cindy then walked over to a pump in the corner and started pumping up water at a freakish pace. Her arms were almost a blur, as she moved them up and down effortlessly, so that in no time she had filled a very large bucket which must contain over a hundred liters. I was no longer even surprised as she then picked up the bucket with one hand and brought it over to Hector, who began to drink enthusiastically. According to the math in my head, a hundred liters of water weighed 100 kg and the bucket itself must weigh as much, meaning my aunt had just carried 450 lbs one-handed without any sign of strain. She must have seen the look of awe in my face, as she said almost apologetically: “What? I curl weights like these as a warmup.” Several times that day already I had felt an erection coming up in my pants, but if Cindy had noticed this, she hadn’t commented upon it yet. I was curious as to her reaction if she were to find out a woman couldn’t be too strong for me.
“By the way, if you’re thirsty, you can pump up some water yourself. As part of your training, you will have to provide for your own water at all times.” This didn’t sound too hard, so I walked over to the pump she had just handled and started pumping up water. However, it was very awkward to use my hand to pump while simultaneously hanging my head under the resulting stream of water so I looked around for a vessel which could hold the water. Unfortunately, I saw no such thing.
When Cindy saw me looking, she said there were some kitchen utensils upstairs. I looked up and saw there was a platform up there, but it was at least ten feet above the ground. There was no ladder, though, and I didn’t have my aunt’s strong legs.
She then took pity on me and jumped up, easily reaching the platform. “I forgot how weak men are,” she said with something that sounded like frustration. “I told you you should have gotten yourself in good shape before coming here, but of course we have very different opinions about what actually constitutes a good shape.” She then grabbed a bowl and threw it down before jumping off the edge of the platform. Now, my aunt was really bulky with all that muscle, but her knees easily took the impact as she hit the ground with a resounding thud.
What she did next was to have a deeper impact on me, however, as she took off the riding jacket she had been wearing and I got my first good look at her upper body, that was now covered only in a sleeveless shirt. Her shoulders must have been over six feet across and her arms were probably bigger than my chest. Her own chest was simply gigantic, but it tapered down to a waist that was in fact quite narrow. I now got a better look at her abs as well and there were deep crevices between the muscles. Her legs were so thick that they pushed each other a bit sideways, and her calf muscles were clearly visible from the front.
“Now I think we can agree,” she said while casually flexing her arms, pecs and lats in that order, “that I am in a very good shape and that you,” she poked my chest with her index finger which actually hurt, “are most definitely not. That means you have a lot of training to do, instead of gawking at my muscles. That’s right, I’ve seen you ogling my body whenever you thought I wasn’t watching and the ogling was certainly not in disgust or in fear. I guess I’ve discovered that you like your women to be muscular, but let me tell you: a woman with real muscles would never fall for a weakling such as you are at this moment. Just look at you. Your chest must be smaller than my arms.” I got the distinct feeling she was making fun of me.
“You’re lucky that I will make it my mission to make you a real man, but since we only have six weeks, you must be ready to work extremely hard. You have to dedicate every single minute of every day to your body. That means that when you’re not eating or sleeping, you find some way to train yourself. At first, I will come up with exercises for you but since you’re not a baby I expect you to put in some effort yourself as well. For one thing, it’s very important that you abstain from jerking off. No sneaking away to the toilet or silently pleasuring yourself in your bedroom. I have seen the effect my body has on you, but let me tell you: sexual activity is a waste of energy when it comes to building a good body. I’m saying this because I’ve seen your little friend rising to attention whenever you watch my muscles, including now,” she said and I felt myself turning beet red when I realised how my dick was trying to poke its way out of my trousers at that moment. “Because, charming as the idea might be that you find me attractive, I am still your aunt for fuck’s sake.”
I was so ashamed that I had no idea how to reply to this. I walked over to the pump, filled the bowl with water and drank it, all the while trying to think of ways to get rid of my hard-on, which was kind of hard while this woman with a body that should be possible only in cartoons or dreams was standing next to me. After I had soothed my parched throat I asked my aunt what the next part of my training would be.
“Well, you’ll need some muscle on those skinny legs of yours. We’re about five miles away from the house now and I want you to run there as fast as you can. Thing is, it’ll be dark in an hour and you don’t want to know what kind of beasties roam in the forests around here. Now, even someone relatively untrained should be able to run five miles in an hour, but as I told you, I want you to grow some muscle on those legs.”
She then picked up a backpack and handed it over to me. It was moderately heavy, but she said running does not in itself build muscle, but that running while carrying a weight will. “This backpack weighs thirty pounds so it shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.”
I was quite happy with this assignment, as running was my speciality when it came to working out and thirty pounds wouldn’t prevent me from easily running eight miles an hour. As we got out of the stable, though, my optimism plummeted. The terrain between the stables and the house was quite hilly and there was even a wide stream flowing through it.
On the other hand, I was quite sure that Cindy would only laugh at me if I were to call her task impossible and, anyway, I didn’t want to disappoint her. “I’ll go my own pace now, so that I can prepare dinner before you arrive,” she said and with that, she ran off at a speed I figured only Usain Bolt could have rivalled, and only for a couple of hundred meters at that. I watched her huge glutes pumping as she ran and her diamond-sized calves contracting and lengthening with every huge step she took. And when I say huge steps, I mean that every step was more like a jump. I swear she easily leapt six yards with every step she took and I almost expected the ground to shake every time she landed, but it all looked very elegant, not at all like a rhinoceros trampling across the fields.
With that speed, I quickly lost sight of her and I started my own run. I had clearly underestimated how hard running with a backpack was, not because of its weight, but because it felt very awkward and bounced painfully on my shoulders with every step I took. Giving up was not an option, though, even if I hadn’t really believed Cindy about the beasties.
After three miles, though, I loudly cursed my aunt.
That was even before I reached the first hill. All this time, I saw the tracks of Cindy on the ground and I realised that it took me at least three steps to cover one of hers. What’s more, as I was climbing the hill, my steps became shorter (as anyone who’s ever climbed a hill will understand). My aunt Cindy’s weren’t in the least however and in my head I saw a picture of her taking these huge strides, almost as if she were jumping up the hill. I was panting and sweating heavily when I reached the top, only to find that there was another hill waiting for me on the other side and in the valley between, there was the stream which I had almost forgotten about. It didn’t look to be very deep and there were also rocks breaking from its surface. I tried to find out a way that would get me across without actually becoming wet, as the temperature was quite chilly. I jumped from rock to rock with what I considered to be quite some agility and what’s more, I reached the other side without my feet even touching the water.
I was really proud of myself and wished aunt Cindy had been there to see this feat of mine.
Then again, she had probably simply leaped across the stream, even though it was some twenty feet wide. By now, dusk began to fall and I was getting really tired and hungry. I hoped Cindy would prove to be a good cook and wondered what kind of food it took to sustain a body as big and strong as hers. The thought of not disappointing her was the thing that kept me going and I began to think that all her training might prove easier than I thought and that I could really benefit from it.
When the house finally came into view, I could smell the pleasant smell of roast meat.
My aunt was waiting outside, with an apron on and the sight somehow looked ridiculous. The apron was probably as big as a small tent and yet it barely covered her broad chest. I was surprised to find that she had a glass of wine in her hand, as I’d thought she’d be one of those people who thought that alcohol didn’t fit into a healthy diet. I later found out that she had a basement full of barrels of beer, wine and whiskey and that my aunt really liked to imbibe quite heavily, but no matter how much she drank, to this day I’ve never seen her drunk. She also turned out to be quite a good cook and I was presented a nice plate full of delicious food. Cindy herself had a much bigger plate and on it lay a whole heap of meat, rice and vegetables. “Bon appetit,” she said, as we shared our first meal.