full tale

[Brfan]

Prologue

Hi there. I'm Mary, and this is my story. It all began a few years ago. Let me tell you a little bit about my family first, so you'll understand where I (and all of this) came from.
Daddy had been a professional tennis player, albeit just for a little while. Lack of both sponsorship and an out-of-the-curve talent shortened his sports career. This obviously made him the kind of father that wanted to fulfill his dreams through his offspring. My older brother, Tom, that is. Problem is Tom was even a worse player. He practiced a lot, I'll give him that. But there was absolutely no talent there. Which is weird, since mom also played quite well (despite only for fun) and also absolutely in sync with myself, as I too had no vein for racket (or any ball) sports whatsoever. The difference obviously was that I had given up, while Tom still tried.
I was about thirteen years old and our routine was pretty basic: after school we dropped by the tennis club where dad now worked as a manager and eventually taught classes, and where Tom practiced daily. I just stood by the bar doing my homework and after that walked around the club, trying to find something to do (this was before smartphones and unlimited internet, folks). This is when I stumbled across the gym. Now, usually young people like me weren't allowed in unless they were with their trainer. But being the daughter of the manager had its perks, so nobody ever told me not to go in.
Now, I had no idea of what I was doing there or why it lured me into it, but the truth is all that machinery and apparatus hypnotized me. Perhaps because it was some sort of physical activity that didn't truly require dexterity and was truly individual. In single sports you compete against someone else. Here, the only competition you face is yourself.
Now, I basically started just walking around, pretending to belong, and watching people work out. I had a pretty good memory and little by little I learned how to perform each exercise. I heard coaches and trainers correcting movements, explaining to their pupils which muscle groups were being worked out and how. Soon, I found myself trying a few of those exercises.
At first I didn't plan anything. I just went in there and did 3 sets of 8 to 10 reps of each thing. I tried to adjust the weights so I'd feel pretty exhausted after the last rep of each set. And I knew I had at best 1 minute to rest between them. A few weeks in, I learned how to plan a workout, doing two to three muscle groups per day. Having a rest day at least after 3 straight days of work. Call me a self learner if you will.
I also never cared for or measured results. I knew I was doing good basically due to two things: one of them very measurable, as I was increasing the weights I could lift. At that point I didn't realize I was also packing up muscles. I mean, the scale showed I was adding weight, but my body still looked ok and clothes fit. Actually, they fit better. The second thing was that I was also doing better in phys ed. I was faster, had more stamina and basically had stopped being a pushover (literally) when playing soccer or basketball, although I still sucked at it.

Chapter one

So this is where it begins. It's been about two years, maybe a few months more, since I started working out. Mom had picked us up at the club cause dad had to work late that day, and on our way home she stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. There was a frozen yogurt place next to it, and both Tom and I wanted one, so she told us to get it and wait for her outside the grocery store afterwards. We did as told, and as we were waiting for her to return, something caught my eye. Through the reflection on the glass walls of the store, I saw myself next to Tom. Sure, he was 12 centimeters taller, but somehow he didn't look that big. Tom was not paying attention at all, focused on his fro-yo, but I was intrigued. I kept looking at the image and figured that I simply looked... wider than him. Hips, sure as expected, but also quads. And what was even more odd, shoulders. The only place where I looked slimmer was on the waist. That was weird. At some point Tom noticed I was staring and simply let out a 'what?' before turning sideways. Instead of answering him, I turned my back at him, and compared our silhouettes. There it was again. My torso was thicker, which is something I could have expected if I had large breasts, but that wasn't the case. It was more a matter of chest and back. I never noticed before, cause Tom had always been the 'athlete' around the house, but he looked kind of frawny.

We got back home and I spent the whole evening with that image in my mind. There was a part of me that probably knew the answer, but it was so unexpected that I just couldn't believe it. There had to be a better explanation. Finally, after dinner I went to my computer (there was internet inside the house, folks, although it was still cable) and typed 'why do I look bigger than my brother' on the browser. A few pages loaded up and one of them caught my eye. It was a personal blog from this woman who shared her story of when she became stronger than not only her brothers (she had three of them) but also her father. Her story sucked me into it. I devoured all of her posts where she told how she had always been a tomboy in the seventies, but couldn't truly do what she wanted to because of the period's prejudices. It wasn't until she left for college that she finally could join a gym and started building up the body she always wanted. A Muscular, rippling body. She shared her experiences throughout college, her contact (and interaction) with steroids, the responses she got and how the world saw her. Her story was enticing.
After finishing reading it, I searched for pictures of female bodybuilders. I was in a trance at that point. I downloaded a few of them, and for some reason decided to have a little fun. Locking my door, I stripped out of my clothes and opened the pictures side by side on my screen. I then started mimicking the poses of those goddesses. As I checked myself in the mirror, I realized that I had a long way to go if I wanted anything that resembled them. Also, I noticed I did have a few muscles here and there. I did have quite broad shoulders and there were some muscles jumping out of my back. My legs were also quite thick and if I flexed them right, little teardrops of muscles showed up. Finally, I could see faint lines of a six pack if I flexed my abs, which made me shiver in happiness. And it made me wonder:
"Fine, yeah, perhaps I'm a little more packed with muscle than the average girl. But that doesn't necessarily translate into strength. I need to find out how strong I am compared to others". So I came up with a plan. First, I'd have to test myself against someone. Second, I needed to share this.

Chapter two

The very next day the opportunity presented itself to me, at least regarding my first resolution. I had just entered the gym when I saw a middle aged man, I'd say around 50, setting up the rack for some bench presses. I noticed he had placed a 10kg plate on each side. Slowly, as I counted how many reps he performed, I placed myself in order to use the bench right next to his. He finished up a 10 rep set with a bit of struggle. I grinned a little. Perhaps this would be fun.
I set up my own bar with the exact same weight as he, and did the exact same 10 reps he did. I made sure to perform slow reps, breathing correctly between them. I caught his eye looking at me while I was doing them. I finished my set and waited to see his next move. To my surprise, the man didn't add weight. Instead, he performed another 10 reps with the same weight, this time struggling a bit. That's when I decided to make a bold move. At this point there was a part of me that already felt that I was stronger than him, but I needed to know for sure. Still, I know I wasn't that much stronger. Yet, I had to go for it. I added 5kg on each side of the bar, which was the weight I knew I could do 8-10 reps, but at maximum cost. I breathed and let out small grunts as I did them. My arms trembled through the last two reps, but I delivered 10 perfect reps before placing the bar back on the rack.
Now, my plan worked out beautifully. No matter how mature that man was, he was still a man, and had an ego. He placed 5kg on each side of his bar, to match my own. Problem is he never got even to the sixth rep. On the fifth motion his technique was already lame, and he was struggling hard. I feared he might hurt himself. Before that happened, he placed the bar back. He was hurt already, but it was his ego, not his body. I, on the other hand, was feeling something new. I had never been good at anything 'sporty'. I had always felt a bit of a misfit in my family, because they all played something. Now, I was being better at something. Not just something against someone, but I was proving myself stronger than a grown man. It was empowering. It was... well, hot. But I needed more.
Standing up, I added another 2.5kg on each side. I knew I could do only a few reps with that, but I was sure it was more than enough. Indeed, I managed 4 reps. The fifth one I didn't count, although I knew that for that man, It felt like I could do more with more weight than he could. I racked the bar and looked at him straight in the eye, challenging him to match my lift. He looked away and backed down, walking to another equipment. I had won. I was stronger than him, and he knew it. I knew it.
It took me another week to fulfill the second part of my plans. Mom and dad were out on a weekend vacation (they allowed themselves to do that every once in a while) and Tom, being seventeen and having a driver's license obviously had no intention to stay at home. Mom had agreed I invited Lisa, my best friend since forever, for a sleepover. After the whole high-school 'who's kissing who, who likes who' gossip, a little celebrity-i'd-marry arguing and the regular teen girl stuff, I finally told her about what had happened.
Lisa didn't even blink when I told her the story of the 'lifting competition'.
"Oh M Gee, Mary! That is sooooo wicked!"
"I know! I mean, I never thought I was that strong!"
"Wait, what?" she asked in disbelief
"What what? Why should I?"
"Are you kidding me? Have you ever looked at yourself?"
"What? What do you mean?"
"Hell girl. I have known you since forever, and you never told me you had been pumping iron. I always thought it was just genetics. I mean, I see you at phys ed. Your back. I mean... it's large. And your arms. Look at them. They're twice as thick as mine" Lisa stretched her arms close to me. In a way, she was right. There was a clear difference between them.
"Anyways, how about your brother? Did you compare your muscles to his yet?"
"What? No!"
"Oh, come on! After that whole 'check me out' in the mirror against him? The most basic you should have done was armwrestle him, at least." she giggled
"Yeah, well, what if I lose? My life would be hell"
"What if you win?" Lisa was smart with her words. She got me thinking. Beating my older brother in armwrestling would probably be better than outlifting the old man at the gym.
"Do you think I can?"
"Get up" she commanded me. I obeyed. Lisa hugged me forcefully, trying to restrain my arms against my body. I was surprised with her action.
"What the...?"
"Try to break free" she told me. Instinctively and, honestly with ease, I spread my arms wide and broke free of what she called her 'bear hug'.
"Now what?" I asked her
She hugged me again, this time trying to pull me closer to her. "Again"
Again I simply used my shoulders to extend my arms sideways, breaking free.
"Are you even trying?" I told her
"With everything I can" She confessed "Now do the opposite. You hug me"
I did it. Immediately I noticed my hug was much more effective. In fact, I felt like I was crushing her a little, compacting her against my body. It felt awesome. Lisa squirmed like crazy, but it was evident she wouldn't be going anywhere unless I allowed her. Feeling playful, I squatted a little and took her off the ground
"Hey, you're pretty light" I giggled, shaking her from one side to the other
"Alright, alright. Put me down. This hurts" she screamed
I put her back on the ground and looked at my friend's eyes.
"Damn girl, for a second there I thought you would squeeze me into oblivion."
"For a second there I thought it too" I confessed. I enjoyed being that dominant.
"So, now you believe you can be quite a good match for Tom?"
"I don't know, Lisa, I mean... you're just a girl. He's like... my older brother"
Lisa sighed. "Alright, show me"
"Show you what?"
"Your muscles"
"What?"
"Come on. Just like you told me you did. Pose for me. Let me see them"
I looked at Lisa seriously. There was a frightening, kind of like 'you're doing something forbidden' feeling that actually made it more interesting. Finally, in silence, I brought my arms up, rolled up my sleeves and flexed. Lisa stared at me
"Not like this. Take off your clothes"
We stared at each other in silence. It's not like we haven't seen each other in our underwear, but this was different. The shame feeling I might have had was vanishing quickly at that moment, surpassed by the mere idea of impressing her with my body. I never thought anyone could enjoy it. Now, I craved for it. Still in silence, I slipped out of my pajamas and stood there, in front of Lisa, with nothing but my pink underwear. Then, after a brief moment of contemplation, I flexed my arms again. I knew there was a nice bump on them, nothing extremely defined, but muscles were showing themselves off. Lisa approached me and, without any hesitance, grabbed them. My knees shivered with her touch. The contrast between her soft touch and the solidness of the muscles she was touching was extremely hot. We both were breathing hard now, enjoying that moment, lost in it. I lowered my arms and did my best to perform a chest flex. Lisa's hands ran from my biceps to my shoulders, and from there to my pecs. She was trembling.
I brought my hands up over my head, as I had seen in the pictures days before, and flexed my abs. The small lines of my six pack became more visible. Lisa immediately understood. I was guiding her through my body and she was obeying, like she should. That's it. Her hands were now moist with sweat, as she too was nervous, intense with our interaction. Finally, as if she could read my mind, she knelt by my feet. I flexed my quads right before her eyes. Lisa's hands tried to embrace one of them, but they were just too thick and hard. She moaned, which caused me to moan as well. This was more than just her feeling my body, or appreciating, or praising it. This was her worshiping it. And I deserved that.
I fought hard against the wish to command her. To demand her to kiss my hard earned muscles. Finally, I relaxed my flexes and let the moment pass. We calmed down. Lisa stood up and looked at me. At last, she spoke
"My God, Mary... your body is so..."
"Hard" I finished her sentence "But not hard enough. Or big enough. Or strong enough"
"Not yet. But it will be. And I will help you"
We smiled in agreement. This was our project together. I now had a goal. I wanted to grow, I wanted to be admired and worshiped by others just like I was by Lisa. And she would help me achieve it. At that moment I also knew why. We had just shared our deepest secrets, perhaps secrets we didn't even knew we had, and we didn't need to say a word.


Chapter 3

Lisa and I came up with a plan that night, and after a week or so of intense studies (I forgot to tell you, but she was a genius. Whatever she read or saw, she memorized) Lisa had learnt more about bodybuilding than probably a college student could learn in a year. She knew about nutrition - in fact we agreed to order protein supplements and have them delivered to her place so my family wouldn't be suspicious - exercising, techniques and routines to achieve better results. She instructed me that for the next few months I'd be eating a lot, lifting hard and resting just as much, as I would be going through a 'bulking' phase. She told me not to care if I felt bloated or lost some definition. It would all come back during the so-called 'cutting phase'.
I followed her instructions and, as expected, the results showed. We kept a small record of my weight every fortnight, and even if we didn't, I could tell it was working. Not only I was seriously stronger than before - that poor old man would feel scared if he saw me bench pressing with 30kg on each side of the bar for a few reps now - but also my clothes, once lose, were now so tight I figured I'd have to buy new ones or perhaps some of them would burst during class if I did some unadvised quick move.
"Wait, Mary, don't spend money on that now. We are one week away from our cutting phase, and they will fit better" Lisa told me "Plus, don't tell me you don't like dressing up and feeling like ms. Hulk with that fabric really tight against this big body of yours" she chuckled. I giggled back. She was right, I did like it, although I did my best to conceal my body, both in school and at home.
When the cutting phase began, it felt more or less like hell. Instead of the eye opening lifting sessions, where I would impress whoever was around, I now had a lot more cardio, a lot less eating. I missed the looks of people shocked as they saw this teen girl curling more than they could, or squatting more than she (or them) weighed. Yet, results were coming to life, and I was feeling rewarded by my effort. Week after week, the lines of my six pack were coming back to me, and the crevices deepened, making the muscles on my core my pronounced. The same was happening on my shoulders, which were rounding up beautifully, or my triceps which now looked horseshoe shaped. The biggest changes however happened on my back, which now was wide and all lumpy, with each muscle group well defined and clearly visible, and my legs. Not only my quads could now be used as an example for an anatomy class when they were fully pumped, but also my hamstrings were visible if I flexed them correctly. I looked, indeed, like a bodybuilder, albeit and amateur one.
By now Lisa was bugging me about showing myself off to my brother, but I was still reticent. I knew I was strong, and I felt pretty confident that if I put myself to any sort of test against him, I'd come up a winner, but there was still a bit of fear. What if I lost? All this effort for nothing? I'd still be the ugly duck around the house, and I'd have no will power left to change that. Mom and dad would forever keep seeing me as 'the second kid'. Lisa was sure that wouldn't happen, as she pointed out almost daily that with my body he would 100% not even try to fight me or anything, but I didn't feel exactly that.
Then an opportunity presented itself. Although I was trying to avoid any confrontation with Tom, there were a few things he did that pissed me off. One of them was lying on the couch when he was all sweaty and dirty, which he was doing right now. It was a saturday morning, and mom and dad had left on another of their date weekends. Tom had just came back from a jog, was shirtless and all smelly on our den's couch watching some game. Mom hated that he did that, and so did I. The second I laid eyes on him, I thought about complaining, but my mouth shut itself up. There was a better way.
I ran to my room and changed my clothes into workout ones. Black lycra shorts that didn't cover more than a third of my quads and a matching sports bra. There was a lot of skin exposed. I put on my sneakers with those hidden socks and left my room.
I walked around the couch, behind Tom, and finally stepped to the sitting area. I stood still, my body turned to him, but pretending naivety turned my head to the TV
"Hey, what are you watching?" I was making sure he had very good sight of my body. From the corner of my eye I saw his reaction. I cherished that for a second there Tom seemed to choke on his own words
"I... It's.. huh.. Tennis" He couldn't take his eyes of my muscles, especially my abs.
'Yes, brother. Let it sink in. Look how muscular I am' I thought to myself. Turning to him, I pretended to be adjusting my ponytail and as expected his eyes moved from my belly to my arms. He was flabbergasted, alright.
"Oh, who's playing?" I asked, pretending not to realize he was practically having a seizure.
"It's... huh.. It's..." God, I was loving his reaction, It was even better than I thought it would be.
"So... who is it?"
"It's... Safin. And.. and... Agassi" (guys, this was the early 2000s...).
"Oh, cool. Mind if I watch it with you?" I asked, not really bothering to hear his answer, as I set deliberately close to him.
"S-sure..."
I crossed my legs and laid myself back. Yes, I didn't like the idea that the couch was tainted with his sweat, but right now I liked better the fact that I was making him sweat his ass off just by being there. Tom couldn't take his eyes off my legs. I extended one of them watching playfully as the muscles on my quads bulged, just like his eyes did. I giggled internally. God, I was melting his brains right now.
I could see the sweat drops in Tom's forehead. He was glistening. He was uncomfortable. And I knew why. It was because he was finally noticing his younger sister. Or should I say, the muscles on his younger sister. He was impressed, and he was scared. And I was going to make him confess it.
"Hey, what's wrong, Tom? It's been two games already and you haven't said a single word. And I know you always talk a lot during these games" I teased
I gave him a little push with my shoulder against his. It wasn't hard or anything, it was kind of caring actually, but it allowed me to press my arm against his. Shit, I had more muscles than he did, even in the bicep department. I grinned.
"Ouch" he protested
"Sorry, didn't mean to hurt you. So what is it?" I asked him again
"I... I..."
"Tom, are you ok?" I raised my left arm to his face, he clinched
"What the hell? I wasn't going to smack you, you moron. I was checking if you had a fever or something. You're sweating like hell" I placed my hand on his forehand and let his eyes analyze the size of my arms, despite them being completely unflexed. There was just more mass between my shoulder and elbow than he could fathom.
"I'm... I'm ok, alright? Drop it"
I got up and stood in front of him, hands on my hips. At this point, I knew very well how to flare my lats, and that's what I was doing. I knew that I had completely blocked his sight of the tv, and standing in front of him like this, with him sitting, almost sinking into the couch was the most absolutely dominant pose I had ever taken regarding my brother.
"Are you sure? You don't look well. What is it?"
Tom shivered for a second there. There was a clear power–shifting moment between siblings right there. He felt it. I felt it.
"Nothing, alright? Just drop it. Watch whatever you want. I'm going out for a walk" Tom made mention to get up from the couch. I placed one of my hands on his shoulder, which felt small and soft, and announced
"No, you won't" as I held him in place. Now, I'd never, ever consider doing that a year ago. Now, here I was, basically using one hand and an attitude to hold my brother in check.
"Look, Mary, I..."
"No, look you, Tom. Look well. And talk. Everything you are thinking right now. I know what it is, but I want to hear it. And you will say it to me" I clinched my fists and flexed my chest once, pretending anger, pretending to be threatening him. Tom broke
"I... alright, alright. Please don't hurt me, ok?"
I chuckled
"Why, Tom? You think I could hurt you, if I wanted to?"
"Y-yes" he finally assumed the obvious
"Why is that?"
"Because... look at you. I never realized you were... this... muscular. You look... strong and... and powerful."


Chapter four

"OMG Lisa! You should have seen his face!" I left Tom shortly after our little chat and ran straight up to Lisa's house to tell her about it
"Oh God! That must have been something! So, what did you do next? Did you armwrestlie him? Did you kick his ass?" Lisa was excited with the whole thing just as I was
"What? No! Come on. He practically peed in his pants just looking at me. If I laid a finger on him I think he'd pass out out of pure fear" I giggled with the idea
"Oh, come on! Don't tell me there wasn't at least a small part of you that wanted to put his big body of yours to the test"
I blushed. She was right
"Well... yeah, I mean.. If he didn't 'confess', I guess I wouldn't feel bad to put on a more... physical show" I told her "I mean... I've always been the odd one out in our family. The one with no coordination to play any sports. Well, I guess we found out today that actually I am the one who excels in a sport" I brought both my arms up and flexed my biceps. They jumped out proudly.
"Look at you... show off" she giggled, not taking her eyes out of my guns
I smiled at her "Well, it's not like I didn't have any reasons to show off, right?" I laughed "Still, I must confess something. I didn't fight him or anything, but the sensation is that I had just been through a massive workout. I guess the tension regarding the whole thing was a lot"
"Well, I can help you with that, babe. Sit" Lisa pointed her bed to me. I obeyed, not sure of what she was going to do.
Lisa climbed on the bed as well, walking on her knees over the fluffy mattress, making it bounce as she did. Finally, she positioned herself behind me and placed her hands on my traps, and started pressing it, in a nice, relaxing massage. I closed my eyes and breathed slowly.
"Hmmmm that feels nice"
"Thanks. Although I must tell you... I thought you were all tensed up... but it's actually just the density of these traps. Shit girl... you're hard everywhere"
I hmmmed a little more as Lisa worked her way down from my neck to my back, skilfully taking care of any stiffness I could have in my muscles as she praised about them
"You know, we should consider this something a bit more regular. There are studies suggesting that myofascial release does wonders for bodybuilders. And let's face it, Mary... you have the muscles of a bodybuilder already"
Lisa's way of talking me up always caused odd feelings in me. I knew it wasn't normal for someone to talk that much about it, but hey... I thought my muscles deserved every compliment they got.
"Look at these shoulders, geez girl... they're becoming massive. No wonder why Tom pissed himself." Lisa kept going non stop as she rubbed my caps. She took her time as well on my arms, making sure to ooh and aaah about the volume of my triceps and definition of my biceps, albeit they were completely relaxed.
"Alright, lay down on your back" she told me.
I did and closed my eyes. Lisa sat on my chins and started rubbing my abs. This wasn't a massage anymore, but I really didn't care. Her touch made me feel good, and her words made me feel great.
"Fuck, girl... are these made of stone? Look at this" she said as she passed her fingers through the crevices of my core muscles "It's like some sculptor carved these up in marble"
Lisa ran her hands a little down, making sure to 'accidentally' caress my inner parts on her way to my quads. She started massaging them
"Oh, fuck me... look at these. Look at their size. What are you now, Mary? 60cm already? And fuck, they are hard" Lisa was using both hands to handle my massive thighs, spending a lot of time on my aductors. I hummed a little, enjoying the teasing. When Lisa's right hand was deep enough she could almost touch my butt I clasped both thighs together, locking my ankles, trapping her hand between my trunk-sized legs. I smiled and placed both hands behind my head, in a relaxed pose that said 'hey, I can dominate you and it's not that hard'. Lisa smiled back and tried to push her hand free, which was useless.
"C'mon now, Mary. It's not like I can get out" She used her other hand on my hip and tried to pull. I just giggled. Now her thumb was exactly over my clit, and she could feel the moist coming out of my shorts with it. I moved my hips a little to make sure her thumb did the right things
"This is nice... I always thought someday we should see if I can crush a watermelon or something with these... but this is better"
By now Lisa had stopped trying to break free and entered the game - a game she probably began in the first place. Just twisting her wrist a little, she could now use more than one finger to stimulate me.
"Ohhh... this is nice" I told her
"Oh, Mary... you are so fucking dominant..."
I smiled at her
"You haven't seen a thing yet" I answered her, and in a quick move I grabbed her arms and thrusted my hip sending Lisa flying over to my side, then I jumped up and pinned her hands above her head as I mounted on her hips, effectively changing positions with ease.
"Tell me, Lisa... how does it feel? Being dominated like that"
"It feels.. Great" she told me, clearly aroused as well
"And how do I look from this angle?" I released her hands and placed mine on my hips, in an overwhelming pose that oozed power
"Oh Mary... like a Goddess."
I smiled. "Well, then... satisfy your Goddess" I told her
"Yes"
I stepped out of the bed and eyed her to do the same. Lisa stood in front of me for a brief second, before understanding my non-verbal command 'kneel'. She did. I placed my hands inside my shorts on it's sides and pulled them down no more than 2 or 3 cm. It was enough for Lisa to understand the order. She grabbed my shorts and pulled it down violently, as if she couldn't wait anymore. I placed one of my hands on the top of her head, making her look at me. We said everything we had to say with our eyes. Our relationship was about to change, and we both wanted it. I consented to her with a smooth nod. Then I gently pulled Lisa in. Her hands immediately grabbed my butt with will, as she started to please me. I never knew if she had done that before, but she was resourceful. I heated up rather quickly and soon discovered what an orgasm was. For the first time in quite some time, I felt vulnerable, and ok with it. But I wasn't satisfied just yet. I held Lisa there as I looked at myself in the mirror. Staring at myself, I flexed my pecs, watching them harden one against the other. Fuck, I was hot. I was hard. I was in love with myself. I looked like a Goddess afterall. I flexed and felt my own bicep. My abs, my rock hard, sculpted abs. There wasn't a thing I couldn't do.


Epilogue


It's been twenty years now since Lisa and I discovered what we really wanted. Lisa went on to College to study exercise physiology and became quite known in the area. She did it with clear intentions to help me keep developing, which I did. She is still this petite, fragile girl, while I ascended to new levels of muscularity and power. I became a pro bodybuilder, won many contests and now help other young women who wants to develop muscles. But life wasn't always easy. Mom and dad took their time, but accepted who I was and how I looked shortly after the whole thing, as summer approached and I couldn't hide my muscles from them anymore. Tom never did. At least not until he matured enough to stop seeing me as competition, as a rival. He never lost his fear of an ass whooping, however. I must say I didn't do much to help him in the earlier days. I might have even threatened and bullied him a couple times back then. Hey, I was still a teenager. And let's face it, the idea that I could instill that much terror into my older brother just by flexing my muscles was too good to let go. He even tried to join the club's gym once or twice, but that was my turf. I made sure to tell him that he would be shamed there. Whatever he lifted, I doubled. Whenever he felt like he was getting stronger or bigger, I flexed my muscles and told him to see what real muscles felt like. I wasn't the best sister for a few years. Although we did work things out later in life, till this day sometimes I tease him, telling his kids to feel aunt Mary's big biceps or lifting them both up, one with each arm, with ease. He seems to take it better, now. His younger kid Karen tells him she wants to be like me. I told Tom that once she turns 13, I'll teach her how to follow my steps. Considering today's technology, I think Karen has an opportunity to become bigger than me, and get there faster too. I wonder how Tom will react.

[Brfan]

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[Romenjohn]

Nice

[asqwert]

Always a good day when Brfan uploads.

Appreciate that it's uploaded complete too.
Great work!

[Wookey]

Great work K+ again

[bigjake737]

EXCELLENT Story!!! very well crafted.

[markwilson753]

Very well done, as usual, thank you

[jeffbeans]

Amazing once again! 

[jhunter]

Nice mini tale. Good progress and description. Hope you keep it up.

[JangoFitt5]

I would have liked to see a sequel, man!

[newvintage]

Would love to see him finish Golden Age, that might be his best work that I've read here.

[phil123]

Hope this wasn' the end of the story. So much Potential, so much to tell.

[Sieming]

Nice work.  I really enjoyed the early parts, that nice slow buildup, and then her nice slow buildup. It really accelerated after a bit, and lots of people appreciate that. Was there a reason for the acceleration? Was it because you knew where you wanted the story to go, and wanted to get there quickly? Or it wasn't going the way you wanted, and you decided to get it over with? Or maybe the writing just accelerated as you went. This isn't a criticism. I was just wondering how it happened. It was a good read no matter how you got there.