Author: [platinumbird62] Side Effects | #WIP

[fbbnut]

There was a story I read in another site, which I can't name here, and that site is down.

Does anyone know of a female muscle story called "Side Effects" and do you maybe have a copy?

Sounds like an interesting story from the title.  Have you tried the web-archive pages?  If it wasn't a forum with a login it might be on there.  Be interested in reading it if you do find it.

[fbbnut]

Reach Your Target Audience

Advertising is hard. We make it simple and effective.

Advertise With Us →

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Side Effects
Submitted by platinumbird62 on July 4, 2010 - 8:17pm

Chapter 1: At the Gym

Sarah lay back on the bench and lifted her hands to the bar laden with 250 pounds. She gripped it tightly and slowly raised it from the rack, then lowered it to her chest. Taking a deep breath, she raised it to arm's length, then back down again. Two, three, four, she counted to herself, lowering and raising the bar in a controlled, careful fashion. When she reached twelve, as her hold and concentration started to waiver, she placed the weight carefully back on the rack. With a breath, she sat up, and stood to face the mirror nearest her in the gym. She raised both arms up, then down as she flexed both biceps and studied the reflection. Fifteen inches, she estimated. And she sighed.

A year ago, she would have been thrilled to be bench-pressing 250 pounds for reps, to possess 15-inch flexed biceps. Those were the goals she had set for herself nearly two years before, when she had first joined this gym at her local YMCA. Mostly men worked out here, but a few women lifted the free weights, and there was enough room for everyone. The equipment was in good repair, and the gym was clean and well-kept. It was only in the last year that she had started to become dissatisfied with her accomplishments. Actually, it was the last six months. As she gazed across the free weights area of the gym, she saw the object of her dissatisfaction. Her name was Alex, and she had been working out just for those last six months. It was Alex who had caused Sarah to reevaluate her goals.

For Alex, well, Alex had the biggest biceps in the gym, male or female. There were not a lot of hard-core bodybuilders at this YMCA, but there were a few who pounded the iron seriously, with intentions deeper than just looking good in the mirror, or the bedroom. A couple of guys flexed up biceps of 18, 19 inches. They competed in some regional bodybuilding contests, amateurs, but serious at the hobby. Sarah had no intentions of competing herself; the idea of parading around on a stage did not appeal to her. She liked the look, appreciated the dedication. But Alex flummoxed her. A girl, who had come to the gym just six months before, with a body that was muscular but muscular like a fitness competitor, had in just a few months started "lifting the gym" and displaying biceps bigger than those of the guys. They looked, the best Sarah could tell, to be 22 inches when flexed. It wasn't that Sarah was staring, but, well, everybody lifted, and then checked the mirror. You noticed things. And Sarah noticed that Alex's muscles had practically exploded in the course of six months. These sorts of things just didn't happen, at least not without drugs, but Sarah had never heard of any steroid that acted this fast. Not only that, but this was not a Gold's Gym with the taint of steroids, rather one where she had never even heard whispers of performance enhancers, another reason she had picked this gym.
15-inch biceps didn't seem so special when another young woman had 22-inch arms to flex. And that had made Sarah dissatisfied. She knew she shouldn't: the gym was a place to reach your personal best, not to compete against others. It was just, well, with no more high school sports, with her college swimming career behind her; this was about the only competition she had left. Somehow, she could have taken it if it was close, but such a big difference? It didn't make sense.

Hearing her name shook her out of her reverie. "Sarah," came from across the gym. That was a surprise: it was Alex calling her. They had never had a conversation, never spoken to each other by name before, nothing more profound than "excuse me." Interested, she headed across the gym.

"Would you mind spotting me?" Alex said. In a lower voice, "I'm trying a new weight, and I don't really trust any of these meatheads. If it's not too much trouble."
"No, I finished my workout. Etiquette of the gym. Of course I'll help." She gazed at the bar Alex had prepared, and her jaw dropped slightly. There was 450 pounds—no, wait, there was an extra ten on each side—470 pounds on the bar as Alex lay on the bench. "Um, this is a little heavy for me."

"It's OK. Just guide it if I falter."

"OK," said Sarah, still not convinced.

Alex hefted the bar off the rack, which sagged under its burden. Alex, however, seemed unfazed. She steadied the weight over her, lowered it to her chest, and then pushed it upward. Again and again she raised it, her form looking much like Sarah's, but with nearly double the weight. Alex didn't seem to be having any trouble, though Sarah kept her hands positioned under the bar as it moved up and down, just in case. Nearly 500 pounds was a lot to have suddenly gone out of control and crashing around the gym. Sarah quietly counted out the reps, her respect growing as Alex reached ten, eleven, and then at twelve her control started to waver just a bit. Sarah's hands quickly gripped the bar, and she aided Alex in fully raising the bar, then setting it back on the rack.

"Thanks," huffed Alex. "I see I was right to be worried, and right to ask you to help."

"Someone else could have done better."

Alex looked around. "No, I don't think so. Definitely you." She turned to the mirror and flexed.

Definitely 22 inches, Sarah thought. "My turn to ask a favor," she said.

"Anything."

"I've been here two years. You've been here six months, give or take. I look like this," Sarah said, flexing. "You look like, well, that. What's going on?"

"Ah, you want to know the secret."

"Yes, I suppose."

Alex drew conspiratorially closer. "Are you, er, seeing someone? Have a steady boyfriend?"

"No, not since a bad relationship ended a couple of years ago. Right before I joined the gym, actually. What's that got to do with it?"

"Well, you just need a little...sex."

"What?"

"You've heard of this new medication all the guys are taking, the one they advertise all over the TV?"

"What, that 'Mannitol' stuff? The one that's supposed to give guys a bigger penis? What's that got to do with this?" asked Sarah.

"Well, let's just say that it does work, and it has some rather interesting side effects."

"Side effects?"

"Rather...interesting...side effects" Alex, said, flexing those huge biceps.

"Oh," said Sarah. Then, as realization dawned, "oooohhhh."

*************************************
*************************************

Chapter 2: A Small House in the Suburbs

Harry kissed his wife Vicki as he came in from work. She smiled at him. "Here, come help me chop the vegetables for the salad. I've just put the chicken in the oven. Dinner should be ready in about 30 minutes."

"Just going to change, honey," said Harry while he loosened his tie. Making a healthy meal together when they got home from work was part of their daily routine, just like their morning runs. Harry normally ran five miles a day (except Sunday. He called it his "day of rest") and Vicki ran three. There was a good running track at the school near their house, and if weather turned bad they had a treadmill in the basement, so they could get their runs in regardless of conditions. Health was something they both took seriously, and their lean bodies reflected that. Harry was a lean six-foot-one, and had never weighed more than 160 pounds in his life. Vicki, at 5'7", stayed between 110 and 115 pounds. Body fat never had a chance to accumulate on either of them.

They could both often be found in local 5K and 10K races, even the occasional half marathon. Running had been a way of life for both of them for years, and they had met in college as both ran middle distance for the track team. A few trophies, some from high school and college days, others from local races, graced their mantle. Their hobby was obvious to anyone entering their home. Or, for that matter, who looked at them for more than a minute or two.

Harry returned from the bathroom wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts similar to what Vicki was wearing. No surprise, as they had gotten shirts from most of the same races, and bought running clothes at the same store. A salad quickly took shape as knives flashed. Shortly, a timer sounded, and chicken emerged from the oven. The meal was consumed just before seven o'clock, as per the usual schedule. After an hour watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy (their favorite TV programs), they headed back to the bedroom, to prepare for an early bedtime, since both rose early for their exercise.

Harry emerged from the bathroom, doffed his shirt, and lay down on the bed to await Vicki. She joined him, still clad in both t-shirt and shorts as usual. He was disappointed, but used to it by now. Perhaps tonight she would respond to his touch. She laid down facing him, and he rubbed her back, kissed her lightly and tenderly, and then moved his hand to her lean stomach, rubbing it lightly through her shirt. She returned his kisses politely, not passionately, and a few minutes later excused herself to return to the bathroom. It was a scene he had lived through many nights before. In fact, it was getting hard to remember the last time they had made love. It had been months. Such physically active and fit people, married people, should have a more active sex life, he thought. He hated to push. She had seemed increasingly reluctant since a miscarriage three years ago. They hadn't planned on a baby, but the experience had affected Vicki. Harry wasn't sure how to deal with it.

He heard her open the medicine cabinet. "Harry?" she called.

"Yes, honey?"

"What's this pill bottle?"

"Oh, I got a new prescription when I had my check-up last week. Nothing important, just some, uh, vitamins."

"Mannitol? Harry, is this that stuff that's all over the TV? What are you doing with this?" She came out of the bathroom carrying the prescription bottle.

He sat up on the bed. "Yes, it is."

"Why? Why would you get this?"

"Well, you know I've always felt a little...well, it seemed like a guy my height should be," he trailed off. "Bigger," he added.

"Harry, that's never been an issue. I told you before. You are all the man I need. The size of your sexual organ doesn't mean anything."

"That would be more meaningful if I had actually used said sexual organ recently."

She glared at him icily.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that's unfair. But I have been feeling a little...neglected. And, as the saying goes, all the guys are doing it. It's all guys talk about in the men's room. 'Have you gotten it? Did it work? What does it feel like?' Guys that take it say their wives are thrilled. I wanted you to be thrilled. It would be good to see you thrilled again."

Vicki returned the pill bottle to the medicine cabinet and returned to the bed, the reproach gone from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse. It's just...."

"There's no reason two active, healthy, married adults can't have an active sex life."

"I..."

"Humor me."

She caressed the side of his face. "I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

She kissed him softly. "OK. Dealing with my issues." She rubbed his chest. Their lips came together. He gently lifted her t-shirt over her head and began to gently rub her back, her side. He was anxious, nervous like on their honeymoon. He fought the urge to proceed quickly, remembering the old line that men were like microwaves, heating up quickly, while women were like crock pots, slowly simmering. Vicki was very like that, always liked lots of foreplay, much caressing before the lovemaking. He was determined to make this work, to make this a good experience for her. Harry was prepared to spend hours, if necessary.

She lay back on the bed, and he propped himself up on one elbow to caress her from top to bottom. He had always admired her leanness: it was a quality he liked in himself, and in his wife. Her skin was tight, her muscles small but firm, her body fat nearly nonexistent. His hands gently touched her top to bottom, his mouth kissing her skin softly everywhere he could reach. After a few minutes she began to respond, wordlessly cooing in response to his attention. After 35 minutes had passed, she reached up and eased down his gym shorts and his underwear, the same way she had when they went to bed when they were first married.

"It is bigger," she said. "A lot bigger," she added a minute later. "Wow," she added in spite of herself. She reached up and touched his penis cautiously, as if unsure what it would do. The response was immediate: the already partially erect organ lengthened and stiffened more. "Wow," Vicki repeated, unable to come up with anything more eloquent.

"You said that," teased Harry.

"I guess that stuff works."

"I have yet to hear anyone complain about their results. And practically everyone I know...well, every guy...uses it."

"You'd think some guys wouldn't admit to it. You know, 'I don't need it, I'm big enough already.'"

"Not that I've noticed. Probably still too new to have that happen."

"All right. Just be careful with that thing." She raised her slim butt to slide off her own clothing. Now they were two naked married people, sharing a bed; nature took its course. Harry tried not to appear too anxious, but he couldn't wait for the big moment. He shifted himself on top of her, and gently found his way into her.

As his penis entered her vagina, she had a sharp intake of breath, and then released it with a gentle sighing "aaaaahhhhhh." Harry felt the rush of sensation wash through him, the familiar thrilling tingle. It had been a long time, too long, and he would have to fight to keep it from coming to an end too quickly. Harry determined to take this night slowly. He gently moved up and down, testing carefully the effect on his wife. A smile spread across her face. "Oh, Harry," she said softly. "I'm really sorry I made you wait. I'm sorry I made me wait."

He kissed her gently, every place he could reach: mostly her face and her chest, and her shoulders. She reached up her hands, rubbing his chest, then his stomach. He flexed his abs, and she grinned as she rubbed them first softly, then more firmly. They luxuriated in their coitus. After half an hour, he couldn't hold back any more. He ejaculated, and signed deeply with the release. He eased himself down on top of her, exerting just enough pressure to avoid placing his whole weight on her. She rubbed his back, and kissed him again and again.

"Oh, that was good," she said. "So very, very good."

"It was my pleasure. Really."

She laughed, and caressed his face. "I don't even feel tired. Actually, I feel energized. Like after a good run."

"I feel so relaxed."

"Can you go again? If I 'encourage' you enough?" Vicki said, her hands on his buttocks.

He smiled. "I'm willing to try."

She began massaging up and down his back, across his chest, with an enthusiasm he hadn't felt from her in years. He felt his erection returning, while he was still inside her. She inhaled slowly and deeply as he filled her again. They acted with more energy this time, not as worried about finishing quickly. After a few minutes, his hand slipped on the bed, and he moved awkwardly.

"How about I get on top for awhile?" Vicki said.

He smiled. Vicki hadn't taken the top position since early in their marriage, usually letting him do most of the work. "Sure," he responded. They clinched together, and then rolled carefully, managing to maintain coitus while rolling both of them over.

Vicki emerged in the superior position.

"Now I have you," she said lightly.

"Have your way with me, then," he replied with a smile.

She worked herself up and down on him, slowly at first, then with increasing energy. He raised his hands to massage her stomach, and then raised them to her breasts. It was then he noticed something different. He had always regarded her breasts as small but perfect. They fit easily into the palms of his hands. Now, all of a sudden, they felt bigger: he cupped his hands over them, feeling the soft flesh.
"Ooooooo," cooed Vicki. "That's good."

Not one to argue with success, he continued to caress these now larger breasts. Cautiously, he asked, "Honey, have you noticed your breasts being bigger?"

"Not that I can tell," she breathed heavily. "Why?"

He didn't want to press the point, and certainly didn't want to sound like he was asking if she was gaining weight while they were having sex for the first time in months. "No reason," he said.

He raised his hands to rub her shoulders, and then eased them down over her arms. As he touched her, he again noticed an area that seemed larger than it did before. This time, it was her triceps. They were always lean and firm, especially when flexed like now as she held herself up, but now he felt a bulge that hadn't been there before. It wasn't exactly big, but both triceps definitely felt bigger than before. He decided to keep this news to himself for now, not wishing to interrupt her reverie.

His hands found her thighs. As a runner, she had always had taut quadriceps in her thighs, as well as firm hamstrings on the back of those thighs. Now, he felt a size that hadn't existed before. This time, it wasn't a small difference, but a significant difference. There was a real change in the muscle mass of her legs, he was sure of it. It was hard to tell from this angle, but he thought he could even see a difference. There was a definite bulge, a sweep to her thighs that hadn't been there yesterday...or even earlier that evening. He was sure he would have noticed. Harry always admired Vicki's legs...it was his favorite body part of hers; this was very like a runner, of course.

Harry softly cursed himself for letting his attention wander during lovemaking. Vicki didn't seem to mind: she seemed quite preoccupied with his new size, as he had hoped. Of course, he was rapidly becoming preoccupied with her own surprising new size. Harry realized Vicki was rapidly reaching a climax of her own. He began contributing his own thrusting, moving his pelvis upward to meet hers, slowly and rhythmically. Her breathing grew more rapid and more shallow, and her movements to him more forceful. The stimulation increased his excitement as well, and he quickly reached his own climax. With a sigh, she gently lifted herself off of him and lay down beside him, face to face as he turned toward her. He ran his fingers through her hair tenderly. Her panting slowed over the next few minutes, and she buried her head in his chest. He gently held her close.

After a few minutes, she began kissing his chest, and then turned her head up to him. "That was the best ever, even better than the time with the rose petals." He had covered their bed with rose petals one day, when he had the day off but she worked. When she came home, he had a candlelight dinner ready, and they made love for hours. It was a peak of their relationship. If she liked this night better than that, something was really going on.

"I'm glad you're happy," he said. He carefully explored her body, testing his previous observations. Her triceps were no longer flexed, but they still seemed bigger. Her thighs were certainly more muscular. And her breasts...yes, a little larger. Whatever had happened, it was not his imagination.

"Maybe, just maybe," she said, and ran her hand over his hip, to his groin...and to his penis, which immediately leapt to attention again. "Maybe we could...?"

"Are you trying to wear me out?"

"Not against your will."

"No. Certainly not against my will." He raised himself up on his hands and knees. Then a thought occurred. "But I should go to the bathroom first."

"I'll be waiting."

"I'm counting on it." Harry had never tried to finish in the restroom so quickly. This phenomenon of bigger breasts and larger muscles was worth investigating: so was a suddenly sexually active wife. He returned to the marital bed so quickly, Vicki actually giggled. She hadn't giggled in months. He felt like a newlywed again.

****************************************
****************************************

Chapter 3: The Apartment Building

Rob was feeling much more confident around women. That was the main point of Mannitol, after all: when the time came, you would be ready to deliver the "package" that would please any woman. He wasn't particularly tall, or particularly strong, but at least he could pull down his pants with confidence. Rob hadn't had much experience with girls, and what he had was not very satisfying. The girls he had "been with" before could not reasonably be described as pretty. Rob had always settled...or paid. Now, he thought, I can get a girl.

On this particular day, he rode the elevator up to the 15th floor of the apartment building, his floor. He slung his backpack to his left shoulder and reached for his keys. From behind him he heard, "Hi, Rob." He turned to see the source of the unfamiliar female voice. He recognized the face: she also lived on this floor, he had seen her before in the hall and on the elevator, but had never dared make eye contact. This time, this day, he dared.

"Hi, how are you?" he replied.

"Very well, thanks," the girl smiled. She walked over and leaned against the wall next to his door, other hand on her hip, a very sexy pose. He gulped in a breath of air in spite of himself. "How are you?"

"G-g-g-g-g-good." Rob stammered. His lack of experience was betraying him, here. "I, er, don't remember your name."

"Samantha," she said. Samantha wasn't very tall, about 5'3", but she had some serious curves, and was wearing a dress that showed enticing cleavage. "I've seen you around. Do you live alone?"

"Y-y-yeah. My parents paid my security deposit, but I pay the rent from my job." Why had he said that? That was stupid, to talk about his parents with a pretty girl. Rob cursed himself silently.

Samantha didn't seem to mind. "Would you like to come over for awhile? My roommate is out of town, and I'm feeling kind of lonely. I have some soda, or a beer if you'd rather."

"Oh! Great! I'll just toss my stuff into my apartment." He did just that, and heard a muffled crash. Not wanting to look further, or delay, he closed the door quickly and practically ran the ten steps to Samantha's door.

"Don't mind the mess," she said, but Rob noticed the apartment was at least ten times cleaner than his own. "Have a seat on the couch. Beer or soda?"

"Oh, beer, please," said Rob. "I mostly push paper around at work, and a beer when I get home tastes good."

"I agree. I hope Miller is all right. It's all my roommate buys. She likes American beer for some reason."

"That's fine. I'm not that picky."

She handed him a bottle, and he took a long drink. He sighed. "That's better," he said, and took another long drink. The bottle was now half gone. At home, he usually went through three cans before dinner, ordered over the phone. He quickly thought he should slow down a bit, in the presence of a girl.

"Feeling better?" she said. He nodded. She scooted closer to him, and began stroking his hair. "I've been spying on you, just a bit. Thinking about how cute you look. Waiting for a chance to get to know you better."

"You—you have?"

"Yes, for a few weeks now. I was kind of watching to make sure you didn't have a girlfriend. Wouldn't want to cause a scene, you know."

"No! No, of course you wouldn't."

"So, it's safe? You aren't expecting anyone, no one is expecting you?"

"No, I'm in for the night. Usually I call and have some dinner delivered about 6. I see my parents on the weekends. I go to work, I come home. Not much going on."

"Then you're all mine." She began to rub his cheek. He flushed at the contact.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."

"Would you like to see my bedroom?"

"Uuuuuhhhhhh." He couldn't get any words out. Never before had a girl been so forward with him. "Sure" he finally blurted.

Samantha stood up, and took him by the hand. "Come on, this way," she led. He followed like a new puppy, and panting about as hard.

The room was sparsely furnished, with just a dresser in a corner and a four-poster bed, with a railed headboard. If Rob thought it was unusual for a girl's bedroom to be so unadorned, he didn't mention it. "Are you nervous?" Samantha asked him.

"A-a little" he said.

"Let's see what we can do about that." She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off his arms, then rubbed his chest. Rob practically melted onto the floor. In a standing position, the bulge in his pants was obvious. "You've been taking those pills, have you?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. This was the one area where he felt confident.

"Then everything is perfect." She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and let them fall to the floor. All that was left was his boxers, tented by his enthusiastic erection. "Would you like to lie down on the bed?"

He answered wordlessly, climbing swiftly onto the mattress. Samantha smiled, then slowly unzipped the back of her dress, and let it drop to the floor, revealing a black bra and black panties. Rob sharply inhaled, his breath taken away by the most beautiful woman he had ever seen who wasn't just a picture in a magazine. He couldn't believe his good fortune.

"Go ahead and take off your underwear. I'm just going to go to the bathroom, and I'll be right back." She closed the door behind her, and he hastened to remove the last of his clothing. A minute later, she was back, shutting the door behind her. In her hands she held two pairs of handcuffs. "Would you mind playing a little game with me?"

"What kind of game?" he asked.

"Oh, just a little bondage. I handcuff your wrists to the bedpost. Nothing that hurts. I just like to play a little, well, cops and robbers."

"Well, OK." Rob didn't want anything to ruin this chance, and he was willing to go to much greater lengths to have sex with a woman this beautiful. This was a circumstance that might never come around again. Certainly, it never had before.
Samantha smoothly slipped the cuffs on him, and locked him to the bedpost. Then she removed her bra, followed by her panties, and climbed beside him onto the bed. Her naked, beautiful body snapped his erection to full attention. She smiled, and gently rubbed his penis. His breath shortened to quick pants. She quickly climbed on top of him, and began to rapidly work her way up and down. He longed to touch her, but his hands were securely held. Within three minutes, he had ejaculated. She sighed, and eased herself off of him. She turned and looked at the mirror on the far wall. He looked as well, and as he watched, her muscles seemed to grow before hi s very eyes. At first he thought he was seeing things, but she moaned deeply, and then flexed her biceps. Five minutes before, she had looked beautiful, but now she looked like a fitness competitor. Her breasts even looked bigger. She looked very pleased.

"Wait right there," she said softly, and opened and exited the door. A minute later, another girl entered. This one was taller, about 5'9", and slim where Samantha had been curvy. She also had dark brown hair, while Samantha had light brown hair. She was different, not as attractive to Rob, but still an attractive woman.

"It's my turn," the new girl said. "Let's see how quickly you recover." She touched his penis, which had softened. It stiffened at once, and began to regain its size. This girl had a long nightshirt on, which she removed, leaving her wearing just panties. She had small but shapely breasts, compared to the fullness of Samantha.

"What's—what's your name?" Rob said.

"I'm Susan, Sam's roommate. We like to share things."

"I see." He didn't, really, but he wasn't going to argue, especially when it looked like he was going to have sex with two women in less than half an hour. That had never happened before, ever.

Susan had shed her underwear and climbed onto the bed with him. She coaxed his penis into a full erection, a process which took almost no time at all. She climbed on top of him, and again within three minutes the deed was done. Rob sighed, feeling very relaxed. Susan repeated Samantha's process of turning to the mirror on the wall, and flexing her arms. Biceps peaks appeared where there had been no hint of them before. Rob also saw that where there had been small breasts, A-cup size, she was now certainly a B-cup. He had no idea what was going on, but he liked it.
"Now what?" he said, somewhat hopefully.

"Just relax," said Susan. "You didn't have other plans, did you?"

"No, this is good."

She exited the room, and a couple of minutes later Samantha reappeared. She was still naked, and looked even a bit more muscular than she had when she had just left. "Hello again," she said.

"Hello."

"Up for another round?"

"Well, sure, I guess."

"Enjoying yourself?"

"I was thinking this is the best day of my life."

"Really? I'm glad. Susan and I are hoping to keep you here for awhile." Her hands stimulated him again. His breathing quickened, though the erection took a little longer to reach full extension. Within a few minutes, though, another ejaculation was accomplished. Samantha tossed back curly brown hair, and flexed double biceps into the mirror. She looked like a small bodybuilder now, and her breasts, he was sure, were even bigger. She half-turned toward him. "What do you think?"

"I like it," he sighed.

"It's thanks to you, really. We couldn't do it without you."

"Glad to help," he said, unsure of what he was doing. Besides the sex, that is, but what could that be doing to cause these lovely women to suddenly grow muscles?
"I'll send Susan back in. And, if you don't mind, we have another friend interested in you."

"The more the merrier, I always say," even though he didn't always say that.

A couple of minutes later, Susan reappeared in the doorway. Her lean body looked quite muscular now, with a lot more fullness. He also noticed her breasts. She now looked as good to him as Samantha had before.

"You look wonderful," he said.

"Thank you. Do you say that to all the naked girls?"

"No. I mean, I hardly ever see a naked girl. I mean, your body has changed. It looks good."

"Thanks to you. Are you comfortable?"

"The handcuffs are chafing a bit, actually."

"I see. Perhaps we can do something about that, in a bit." She lowered her hand to his scrotum, and rubbed his testicles. He gulped, and an erection immediately resulted. She encouraged him a bit more, and then climbed on top. Three minutes later, she climbed down. Her flex was getting impressive.

"Wow," said Rob softly.

"I'll see you again in a few minutes." Susan exited the room.

Another girl entered. This one was blonde, with a pretty face, and tall, but a bit chunky. She was nearly six feet tall, but her face was pudgy and there was some obvious fat around her middle. She saw Rob's naked body handcuffed to the bed, and gulped. She quickly exited, but reentered a minute later with Samantha.

"Hi, Rob. This is Amanda. She's a little nervous about meeting you." Samantha had a nightshirt on, much like the one Susan had worn before, but it seemed quite snug on her. "I've told her we're just playing a little bedroom game, but she isn't sure. You don't mind, well, getting to know her better, do you?"

"No, it's fine. But, could we take the handcuffs off? They're starting to hurt."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rob. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just, er, didn't want you to leave before we were done, you see."

"Samantha, I don't really want to leave. Like I was saying before, I'm thinking this is the best day of my life. I've never had sex like this, and with such pretty girls. Amanda is pretty, too. And you girls seem to be getting what you want, even if it isn't quite me. But really, I won't leave if you take the cuffs off."

"OK, Rob. We'd like you to stay. As long as you want."

"Well, I'm getting hungry. If you'd call out for some food, that would be great. And as far as staying, I have about five or six sick days I can use. So, I can stay for awhile. If you don't mind feeding me."

Samantha smiled. "What would you like to eat?" she said.

"Wednesdays I usually order some ravioli from Luigi's around the corner."

Samantha went to the door. "Susan, would you call Luigi's? Our guest would like some ravioli. Get our usual order as well." Back to Rob, she said, "We will also be happy to share our pizza." To Susan again, "and hand me the handcuff keys. Our guest has promised to stay with us awhile. For days, if we want him to."
Samantha uncuffed Rob, who rubbed his wrists and stretched his arms.

"That's better," he said. "Hi, Amanda."

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Come here, it's OK."

Amanda came over and sat beside Rob on the bed. Samantha left with an "I'll let you two get acquainted."

Rob patted Amanda's hand. "How are you?" he asked.

"OK—OK," she repeated.

"Do you know the other two?"

"We all went to school together. I live upstairs."

"I live across the hall. Samantha invited me over tonight. She wasn't quite honest with me, but she wasn't quite dishonest either. I think she was afraid I wouldn't come over if she told me what was going on. Of course, I'm still not sure what's going on."

Amanda was not looking at him. "I'm sorry; I've never talked to a naked....a naked man before."

"Oh? So, you've never...you're a virgin?"

"Yes."

"So, do you want to...or, do Samantha and Susan know you're a virgin?"

"I'm not sure. Susan called a few minutes ago. She said I should come over, that they were doing what we had talked about last week."

"What was that?"

"Samantha and Susan said they wanted to get a guy and have sex with him, because they wanted to be stronger and more muscular. They said something about that Mannitol stuff that's all over the news. I said I would do it too, but I wasn't actually sure if I wanted to do it. I just said that."

"Well, I think you're really pretty. If you want to have sex, I would be happy to."

"You do? Think I'm pretty?"

"Sure. Don't you? Think you're pretty, I mean?"

"I don't know. I never had a boyfriend, really. I went on a couple of dates, but never anything serious. Mom always told me that since I was tall, that made boys nervous. Someday, the boys would catch up. But I'm 23 now, and I still don't have a boyfriend."

"Well, I like you."

"Thanks."

There was a knock on the door. "You two decent?" Samantha called. "Food's here."

"Come in," said Rob.

Samantha entered. "Amanda? Have you been crying? Are you all right? What's wrong, honey?"

"No, I'm OK. Rob's been really nice to me. It's just..." She started crying softly.

Samantha came to the bed and hugged her. "Aw, sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Rob's been a lot nicer than we've been to him."

"I didn't mind, really," said Rob. "But Amanda, she's never done this before. You know."

Samantha looked quickly to Amanda. "You're a virgin? But I thought you and Sammy..." Amanda sobbed. "Oh, Amanda, I'm so sorry. If I'd known, I'd never have..."

"I hate to be a bother, but can I eat?"

"Oh, Rob, I'm sorry, you've been such a sport about this whole thing. Put something on and come out here. Come on, honey," she said to Amanda and led her back to the living room.

Susan had set the food out on the small dining table. "Oh, I didn't know we were having a dinner party. I'd have got out the good china."

"Now, Susan, Rob could be mad about this whole thing, but he isn't. There's no call to be sarcastic."

"It's my way."

"I know, and I love you for it, but now is not the time. Sit down, Amanda, have some pizza. Here you go, Rob, here's the pasta."

"Could I have a slice of pizza, too?" Rob asked.

"Certainly you can," said Susan. "We do appreciate you coming over, even if we weren't exactly forthcoming."

Rob had already consumed a slice of pizza, and was well into his ravioli. "Sorry, I'm really hungry."

"By all means," said Susan.

Rob continued, "I think what you did was make a basic mistake about men in general. You thought if you told me what you wanted, I would be offended. Women always get offended when men treat them like 'sex objects.'"
"Well, yes," said Susan. "We do, as a rule." She looked directly at Samantha, who smiled sweetly back.

"But that's exactly what men want. Tell a man, nearly any man, 'Hi, we want to put you in a room, and have sex with you whenever we want, any time of day,' the guy will say, 'Do I get to eat and watch TV the rest of the time?' If the answer is yes, there's no guy I know who wouldn't make that deal."

"Really," said Susan. "You know, that explains a lot. A whole lot."

"I'm telling you, every guy I went to high school with would say the same thing."

"You know, Susan, I think we have underestimated our friend Rob," said Samantha.
"And, I have an idea."

"Yes?"

"I think you and I should go to plan B. And these two kids," she said, indicating Rob and Amanda, "should go across the hall and get to know each other better."

"What?" Amanda said.

"You might be more comfortable at your place," said Rob. "I'm, er, not a very good housekeeper."

"Well, Amanda lives with her parents in this building, on the 26th floor. So it might be a bit awkward."

"Ah."

"Would you, would you want to do that?" Amanda asked Rob.

"Sure, if you wouldn't mind my mess."

"I like to clean."

"I think you two will get along very well. In fact, if you are done eating, why don't you go ahead? Susan and I have some things to discuss. We will check in with you tomorrow."

"Sure," said Rob. "Are you ready, Amanda?"

"OK," she smiled shyly, but hopefully.

"Wonderful. And, Rob," said Samantha, as she put her hand on her bicep at her side, and flexed for herself, "thanks so much for your help." Her smile was wide.

"Ready?" Rob said, taking Amanda by the hand and leading her to the door. "See you later," he waved back into the apartment.

"What did you want to talk about?" asked Susan.

Samantha raised her arm and flexed, and heard a small ripping sound in the seam of her nightshirt. She smiled a satisfied smile. "I was thinking we should shop for some new clothes. These don't seem to fit as well as they did yesterday."

Susan held up her own arm, and looked at her sleeve as she quickly tore a seam with a quick "pop."

"Yes, I see what you mean. These are just so, so tight."

"I think the little shop down the street is open late, and they have some cute things. With any luck, we might have to do some more shopping tomorrow."

"I love shopping."

"Me too."

****************************************
****************************************

Chapter 4: In the Lab

Peter suddenly realized he had made a serious mistake. It was never a good idea to try a new weight without having a spotter. Things had gone pretty well until he got to the ninth rep. As he tried to raise the weight again, fatigue began to get the better of him, and the press became unsteady. Now, he was precariously balancing 300 pounds above his chest on a barbell, and he was rapidly losing control as his right arm began to cramp. This was going to hurt badly, at best, and turn into a serious injury at worst.

He heard a sound as the door to the apartment opened. "Hi, honey," a female voice called from the front room. He tried to respond, to call for help, but couldn't manage more than a barely audible "Urk." Fortunately, the lack of response drew attention. He heard someone approach, and then caught a glimpse of a white lab coat flash by his head followed by a release of pressure as strong hands gripped the bar and relieved him of his burden. Unable to let go due to the cramp, he gasped in relief.

"Th-thanks," he got out at last.

"What were you doing?"

"Making a serious mistake."

"I can see that. Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Stupid male pride is my only defense."

"Some defense."

"Are you just going to stand there and curl the barbell I was trying to bench press, or are you going to set it down?"

"What? Oh, sorry." The strong hands connected to the soft female voice raised the weight and set it down in its place. Peter worked out the cramp enough to release the bar that minutes ago threatened to crush his chest. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Cramp." He rubbed his forearm, trying to work out the pain. "It was about to be much worse, if you hadn't come in just when you did."

"You're welcome. I had to finish my lab inspection."

"You have to be pretty important stuff to have an apartment in your lab at a major pharmaceutical company."

"Technically, it's adjacent to the laboratory building, but with complete access. And when you make your company billions, they go that extra mile for you. Besides, you work here too."

"True. But you're the golden girl with the billion-dollar idea."

"Guilty as charged. Would you like me to spot you now?"

"I think my workout is over. I did manage to get some work in before needing a rescue. I was, not very smartly, trying a new weight for reps. Went OK for the first eight."

"So that was eight reps with," she quickly added, "300 pounds? I am impressed. Pretty good considering 18 months ago you couldn't lift your body weight."

"And my body weight then was 135. I probably couldn't lift half that when we started dating. What did you see in me?"

"Someone who was smart...usually. And who made me laugh. And had beautiful eyes, ones that looked deep into my soul."

"I was looking into your beautiful eyes. Got lost there, and never got out."

"OK, if you want to talk, talk while I get ready for some exercise if you're done." She was wearing the white lab coat he had seen before, the one she always wore when working in the lab. Even through the coat, it was easy to see her impossibly broad shoulders, and impressive bust line. A very, very impressive bust line, thought Peter. Then, she took off the lab coat and hung it on the hook on the door. Under the lab coat, she was wearing her usual choice, a dressy sleeveless blouse, this one peach-colored. It brought out the highlights in her straight brown hair.

She usually wore sleeveless tops, and looking at her arms it was easy to see why. Harder to understand was how she managed to get a lab coat to cover them: it was, of course, custom made for her. Those impossibly broad shoulders were due to massive deltoid muscles, which gave way to incredibly massive and muscled arms. No one alive had arms like this. They looked like they belonged in a comic book, or some silly cartoon. These, though, Peter knew, were very real. The kind of real that could raise 300 pounds like normal people picked up a gallon of milk.

"Help me set up the bar," she said. She went to one side, took off the bar guard, and slid the 50-pound weight at the end off and lowered it to the floor. He repeated the action on the other side. She picked up a 100-pound plate and slid it onto her side, joining the identical plate already there. Then she picked up another and repeated the action. He copied, and went to slide the guard back on before seeing she was putting the 50-pounder back at the end. "Oh, of course you are," he said. He did the same.

The weights locked into place, she said, "OK, now I need you to help me with the weight."

He looked at the barbell. "You want me to help you lift 700 pounds?"

"Yes."

"You saw the thing with the 300 pounds, right?"

"Silly, I don't want you to lift it. I want you to help ME lift it. Drop your pants." She stripped off her top, revealing an impressive physique underneath. She wasn't wearing a bra: it would have been redundant. With pectoral muscles this powerful, there was no droop to her breasts. She had ceased needing to wear support three months before. Peter had been there the whole time, but he was still impressed. She slipped off her scrub pants and underwear, and now stood fully naked. He admired her form, the incredible musculature. He saw it every day, and was still impressed every day.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Just admiring the view."

"Admire it without your pants."

He dutifully dropped them, and stripped off his t-shirt as well. No reason for her to be naked by herself. She was covering the bench with a towel, and then she laid back on it. He stood up by the bar.

"What are you doing? It's not like we haven't done this before."

"In my defense, not for a couple of weeks. I forgot the process."

"Get down there and make love to me."

"Your wish is my command." He didn't need any further preparation to be excited: he'd had an erection before he actually sighted her, when she was lifting the bar out of his hands. Peter knew, from experience, the exceptional female who had saved him from injury. He massaged her vaginal opening briefly, to stimulate some natural secretions for stimulation, and offered his services.

She said, "Oooooo." He said, "Aaaaaaaaaaah." This was something they had done many times, a quickie on the weight bench. A few minutes later, he had provided her with the necessary bodily fluids. She moaned in a low voice, expressing her pleasure and thanks.

A couple of minutes later, the process started. Those already incredibly large muscles grew visibly before his eyes. He never ceased to be amazed by the process. Only a truly gifted chemist and bioengineer like Holly could have produced a chemical that could catalyze this process, and had the business sense to combine it with a product that increased the size of a male penis. It was the perfect way to guarantee use of the chemical. What man wouldn't take a medication to get a bigger penis? It was the holy grail of pharmaceuticals. It was a discovery that had made Holly the richest, and the strongest, woman in the world.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm," Holly said. I'm ready. Get yourself clear."

"Need a spotter?"

If she heard him, she didn't respond. She grasped the weight, with the bar bowing under its heavy burden. She lowered, and then raised the 700 pounds cautiously at first, then with greater confidence. She rapidly pressed for 12 reps, and then racked the weight.

"Done?"

Holly took three deep breaths, and grasped the weight again. She pressed out another 12 reps in succession. She lifted in a manner that was rapid, but unhurried, and obviously in complete control of the burden. Holly racked the weight briefly again, took three more deep breaths, and repeated with a final 12 reps. Three sets of twelve reps with a bench press of 700 pounds. Peter thought of the first time he had seen her bench press 400 pounds, just once, eight months before. He had thought this must be it; she must have reached the peak of her strength. Since then, she had kept pushing to get even bigger, even stronger. He didn't see how she could do more, but he had learned never to put limits on what Holly could do. The smart money just didn't bet that way.

She sat up on the bench, stretched, and then raised her arms into a flex. The muscles contracted, the biceps peaked, and then appeared to peak again. Peter thought of the character in a Bugs Bunny cartoon who had flexed and muscles appeared upon muscles as he continued to flex. He smiled, then just stood and watched in awe. Those flexed biceps must measure thirty inches, he thought. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it.

"Oh, that was good," Holly said as she relaxed. Even unflexed, she looked powerful, immense. She stood up, and he resisted the urge to bow down in worship like she was some Greek god. A physique like this was rarely seen outside of statuary. Instead of demanding sacrifice, she threw her arms around him and kissed him, deeply, passionately, like a lover. This was his favorite part. She always appreciated his role in this.

"Now, you didn't get to enjoy yourself very much earlier. Let's fix that." Holly took Peter by the hand and led him to the next room, toward their bed.

He was wrong, he thought. This part, coming up, was his favorite part. Minutes later, he was fully involved in his favorite playground, enjoying triple-D sized breasts, rubbing the massive muscles as she flexed and relaxed them for his pleasure. This is the most wonderful woman in the world, Peter thought, and she has eyes only for me.

Two hours later, he collapsed down on his back onto the bed, exhausted. His penis, apparently unwilling to submit to the inevitable, still probed erect into the air before slowly relaxing, drooping into repose.

"That...was...amazing," he panted. "Each time...is better...than the last."

Holly turned on her right side, drawing up next to him. She rubbed her left hand over his chest and stomach, and kissed him lightly around the face and shoulder.

"Sometimes I worry you will get tired of me."

"Never," Peter panted, slowly but emphatically shaking his head from side to side.

"I love you."

"I love...you too."

"You know that question you asked me last month?"

"Of course."

"I'm ready to say yes now."

"Oh, sure. Wait till I'm....too weak...to get up and get the engagement ring."

"Sorry."

"Just give me a minute. I want...to do this right."

A few minutes later, he was breathing something close to normally. He got up, went over to his dresser, and got out the ring box he had produced at a romantic dinner five weeks before. Then, Holly had tearfully answered, "No, I can't." No further explanation, and no apparent repercussions, just that. This was the second take.
Peter knelt and made virtually the same proposal he had before, because he still meant every word. "Holly, you are the most beautiful and the most...wonderful woman in the world, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you...every day how much I love you. Will you marry me?" This time there was more panting, but otherwise it was the same.

"Yes, Peter. Yes, I will marry you." The kiss was long, and tender, and filled with her tears.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm happy."

"Women. I guess I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand."

"I hope so."

"Hey, I promise never to stop trying." Peter decided to lighten the mood. "Besides, I always wanted to get naked with the head cheerleader."

"High school was a long time ago."

"Some things last forever."

"Like us, I hope."

"You are the only woman for me, and always will be."

They were both back on the bed now. He saw certain wistfulness in her eyes. She sometimes got that far-away look, when she was lost in thought.

"Hey," he took her jaw gently in his hand, and turned her head toward him. "How many guys get the girl who was the head cheerleader at her high school, who went to college and got a degree in chemical engineering, than a master's in pharmacology, with work in bioengineering, then scored a great job with one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world?"

"Yeah, the cheerleader who went to college and put on a freshman fifteen, then another fifteen her sophomore year, and her junior year, because she was studying instead of exercising? And you got the same degrees and a job at Sandoz too."

"Yeah, but you had better grades than me, and got the better job offer. For a bigger salary, of course."

"I was just relieved when you asked me out. I had put on so much weight, I didn't think anyone would look at me again."

"You were still beautiful. A few pounds overweight, but beautiful."

"A few?"

"A minor defect. I was skinny as a rail myself, and had no room to complain. I was surprised such a beautiful girl would give me the time of day, let alone one day agree to marry me."

"It was a little embarrassing, outweighing my boyfriend by about 75 pounds."

"Never bothered me for a minute. Besides, you outweigh me now."

"Yeah, but now," she said, flexing a bicep," it's all muscle."

"Indeed it is, and superbly sexy as well. Is the tape measure in the drawer?"

"What, again?"

"You grew again, don't bother to deny it."

"I don't. Go ahead" She stood up, and shook her arms to prepare. She had a resigned look on her face, but there was a twinkle in her eyes. While she hated to admit it, she loved hearing the increasing measurements.

"Let's start with the left arm, unflexed." Holly extended her arm, bent slightly. The idea was the measure the circumference without the biceps or the triceps being flexed. It was a resting measurement, a control. They were scientists, after all.
He wrapped the tape measure around her arm. "23 inches," he said. That was more than an inch bigger than last time, just over a week ago. Her muscle growth seemed to be accelerating. "Now flex the triceps." She extended her arm and squeezed, making the triceps pop out of the underside of her arm. "26 inches," Paul said. "Now flex the biceps."

These were his favorite body part, and he suspected they were hers too. She always seemed to be happiest when he lingered over her arms, caressing them. It was good for him, too. She flexed, and again the peak seemed to rise, and raise some more, and just when it seemed to stop it would begin to rise again. Finally the muscle stopped rising. He put the tape around it, but stood there touching it for a minute, not taking the measurement. He noticed she did not prompt him. Finally, Peter said, "29 inches."

Holly lowered her arm. He had seen the pictures of her in her high school cheerleading uniform. She was very slim, with slender arms. The face was the same, but the body was very different now. He also recalled when he had first met her, in college. She was quite heavy, but also very lovely. He had been smitten immediately. Again, the body had changed quite a bit since then.

He measured the right arm as well. As usual, her right was larger than her left, with the bicep measuring 30 inches as he had estimated. Her chest taped at 53 inches relaxed, 70 inches expanded with a full lat spread. Her waist, with layers of abdominal muscles and obliques, measured 33 inches. Her hips, including her powerful glutes, were 45 inches. Her thighs measured 32 inches each. All the measurements were larger than just the previous week.

"You're just a growing girl," he said.

"A growing, engaged girl," she said, displaying the ring.

"And I am the happiest man in the world."

Holly smiled. Peter thought it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

*************************************
*************************************

Chapter 5: The gym

"So, you have sex with a guy who has taken this Mannitol stuff," began Sarah.

"And your muscles become energized. The more you exercise, the bigger the effect," finished Alex.

"How does it work?"

"Do I look like a chemist to you? I'm an advertising rep. The muscles make an interesting conversation piece on the job, and I never have to get help to move my furniture. It works."

"Who gets you, um, energized?"

"I'm seeing someone, have been for a few years. We met in college. He's a runner. It's not serious, mostly just physical. The muscles surprised him, but he has enjoyed it since he got over the shock."

"I can see how it would be a surprise."

They had gone to the women's locker room for more privacy. Sarah had a lot of questions. She was cautious, but getting excited at the possibilities.

"So, what should I do?"

Alex told her, "Now, a lot of this is hearsay, so take it with a grain of salt, but here's what I've heard. The effect works after the sex, but it can also affect you immediately, if you have been exercising beforehand. I can tell you from experience that roughly two minutes after he ejaculates into you, the effect begins. The first time, you get some retroactive effect. My biceps grew nearly two inches the first time."

"Two inches?"

"Yes, and I've heard stories of girls whose biceps grew three and even four inches at a time. I don't know that firsthand, but I've heard it."

"Wow."

"Your other muscles grow quickly as well. Also, your breasts tend to get bigger."

"You mean, the muscles in your chest?"

"No, the actual breasts. Fat tissue seems to move from other places, and concentrate in the breasts."

Sarah looked down. Her breasts were not truly small, but they had never been impressive. She wondered if that would change in her future. Alex not only had the bulging biceps, but an impressive bust line as well. "How big were your breasts before?"

"B-cups. I'm a D-cup now."

Sarah was a B-cup now, barely. The bra always felt just a bit big.

"OK, I'm ready to do this. Now what?"

"Assuming you want to do this right now, we pick out a man who seems likely to take the stuff, and who would drop everything to have sex immediately with someone he doesn't really know. One of those meatheads should fit the bill."

They both went to the door, and looked out over the gym floor. After a quick scan, Sarah's eyes rested on a guy strutting around the floor, rarely even touching a weight. He was talking the talk, but not walking the walk.

"Carl," said Sarah.

Alex laughed before she could catch herself. "Perfect. That chowderhead is 99 percent guaranteed to take a penis drug."

"Before I put myself through this, I'd like to be 100 percent sure."

"I don't blame you. And I have an idea."

Alex went over to a high school aged boy who was doing a serious workout. He looked up and saw her coming, and spoke. "Hey, Alex, can you spot me here in a bit?"

"Sure, Jeff. Always happy to help. And I need a favor too."

"Whatever you need."

She moved in close to him, because Carl was within earshot. "I want you to go over to Carl and ask him for a couple of Mannitol."

"A couple of what?"

"You heard me."

"All right, but only because it's you. I wouldn't do something this stupid for just anyone."

"I know and I love you."

"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep."

"Wait until you're a little older, son, an arrest would look bad on my record."

"Hey, I'm 17."

"Let's get you graduated from high school, and maybe even a state wrestling champ first."

"Oh, all right. But next June, I'll look you up."

"You know where to find me, sweetie."

Jeff shook his head, but got up and walked over toward Carl. Sarah was admiring Alex's easy banter with someone of the opposite sex, even if he was a teenager. Sarah had never been able to do that, have an easy conversation with a male of any age. At least, one who wasn't a family member. Sometimes not even one of those.
Jeff reached Carl's position. "Hey, Carl, could you let me have a couple of Mannitol?"

"What?" said Carl. "Those things cost money, kid. Get your own."

"Probably gets then paid for by insurance," muttered Jeff. He returned to Alex.

"Good enough?"

"Well played, Jeff, well played. I found out exactly what I needed to know."

"You and those biceps help me out in about fifteen minutes?"

"I'll be here. Just give me a shout then." She showed him a quick side flex, smiled, and headed back toward the locker room. Jeff puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled, shook his head to clear it, and went back to his exercise routine.

"Why are you leading that kid on?" Sarah asked Alex as she joined her.

"He's cute. He likes to tease. And he likes to look at my muscles. After he turns 18, I'm thinking about being the 'older woman.'"

"No."

"Besides, with some encouragement, he stands a real chance of winning his weight class at states this year and next. He's got talent. And I do like a wrestler."

"I don't know how you do it."

"Most of it is a little self-confidence. An attractive woman like you should have some."

"First things first. What's the plan for Carl?"

"OK, we need to find a room where you can get some privacy to do the deed. And we need to get you dressed to seduce him."

"The first part is easier than the second."

"I was thinking the reverse. Where's the room?"

"There is a little utility room around the corner. Only the night staff use it, I've never seen anyone get into it during the day. There's a little space, and it's not locked."

"What about privacy?"

"I can brace the door."

"I'd better lurk around to stand guard just in case."

"Couldn't hurt. How do I get Carl to go in there with me?"

"I don't think it will be too hard, but we will have to be careful. He's not crazy about muscle girls, he tends to avoid me. We need to cover up your arms a bit, but show some cleavage. I've got a warm-up jacket in my locker that should work." Alex pulled out the top. "I outgrew it when I passed a 19-inch bicep, but it will give you some room, at least until you grow into it. Zip it a bit at the bottom, or better yet don't zip it at all, and show him some titty. Oh, and don't wear a shirt under it. That should get him excited."

Sarah pulled off her t-shirt, and pulled the warm-up over her arms. It was large on her, in spite of her own mass. She remembered that she was jealous of Alex, at least before this had started. Alex had turned out to be very helpful. Ignoring advice, she zipped up the jacket. Alex zipped it back down, exposing more skin. Sarah pulled it back up. "I have an idea. Give him a little, and then show a little more."

"It could work."

"How do I look?"

"Ready to catch a man and explode your muscles. Go get him."

With a deep breath (which Carl would have liked, thought Alex) Sarah headed back out into the gym. She hesitated, then seemed to make up her mind, and headed toward Carl. Alex watched her go. "Come on girl," she said under her breath.
Carl was by the rack of dumbbells. How fitting, thought Sarah. As usual, he was near the free weights, but not lifting any. She walked right over to him. "Hi, Carl."

"Hi. Uh, Sarah, isn't it?"

"That's right. How are you?" She tried to sound like Alex, but it was a new experience. She was afraid it wasn't going well.

"Great. What's going on?"

"I wondered if you'd take a little walk with me." She lowered the zipper about an inch, showing some more skin. That got his attention.

"Uh, sure. Where we going?"

"I know a little place where we can get some privacy." She lowered the zipper a bit more.

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Alex was watching while trying to look like she was not watching. "Oh, girl, you got him," she said to herself. "That was pure brilliance. Way to go, Sarah!"

"Hey, Alex!" It was Jeff. Alex gazed wistfully down the hall toward Sarah and Carl, but decided her duty lay elsewhere. Those two would need some privacy, and she would have to trust Sarah to take precautions. "Coming, kid," she called.

Sarah led Carl to the utility closet. No one else was in this side hallway. "In here. It's not very big, but it's the only place in the building I know we can be alone and undisturbed."

"We could always go to my place."

"I, er, can't wait. Maybe tonight."

"Whatever you like, baby. I'm always ready."

"Let's find out." She unzipped the jacket, exposing more skin, including her firm but carefully unflexed abs. She remembered what Alex had said about Carl and "muscle girls," but hoped he liked good firm abs. He put his hands on them, and then ran them up to her breasts. Typical, she thought.

"I don't like to waste time, do you?" she said, but before he could answer, she yanked down his gym shorts and boxers. Yep, definitely a Mannitol user, she thought, and a good thing. Even with the chemical help, he didn't seem that big. Pleasure, however, was hardly her first concern.

She pulled down her own gym shorts, and reached her hand to his penis. Better to excite him to the point of ejaculation, she thought, and shorten the amount of time he was actually inside her. The problem was, timing was crucial. Wait too long and she would have to start over again.

She got him excited enough that he seemed to be having spasms. How long has it been for him, she wondered? As long as for me? It was now or never, and she inserted his penis into her. He moaned quickly, and ejaculated 30 seconds later. Two minutes, Alex had said, as Carl quickly began to droop. The excitement seemed to have been too much for him.

It wasn't long until Sarah forgot all about such concerns. She began to tingle between her hips, then the tingle spread through her body. The tingling intensified, until it was nearly a burning sensation. It didn't hurt, but felt more like she was being filled with energy from within. Her first impression of change was with her abs: she wasn't flexing them, but it looked like she was, as they grew bigger and more defined. Then she saw her chest expanding, moving outward, as her pectorals pushed forward. Her breasts grew on top of the firming Pecs, pushing the unzipped jacket open, revealing her breasts completely. Carl was staring. Sarah didn't care. The feeling was exhilarating. She began to vocalize, like she was having an orgasm.
Out of her sight, her legs were thickening, quadriceps and hamstrings and calf muscles growing and pushing outward. She didn't see it, but she felt it, and began to quiver with the feeling. She felt her shoulders begin to strain against the seams of the jacket. The fabric wasn't going to hold much longer. She briefly though about slipping the jacket off, when her biceps began to quickly expand. They grew so fast, the sleeves of the jacket appeared to explode. What was left of the sleeves hung in tatters from her shoulders.

She gasped, breathing quickly, while Carl cowered in the corner of the closet. A quick inspection of herself revealed muscles like she had never seen before. She raised her arms, and flexed the new biceps. They rose to majestic proportions. Two, three, even four inches bigger? Not a chance. These biceps were at least as big as Alex's. At minimum, she thought, these are seven inches bigger than they were five minutes ago. She flexed her chest, and watched the Pecs pop, raising her newly expanded breasts to amazing heights. These were muscles that could do nearly anything, she thought. The feeling of power and strength was intoxicating.

She looked toward Carl, whose eyes where nearly popping out of his head. His mouth was moving, but no sounds were coming out. She grabbed him by the shirt and picked him up like a rag doll. "That was great. Let's try it again, shall we?" He looked scared, but his penis was rising into an erection. She reached her hand gently under his testicles, and was rewarded with a quick snap to attention. A little manipulation and the tip of his penis was dripping. She quickly inserted him into her, and had collected another ejaculation in less than a minute.

The results were less dramatic this time, but still noticeable. Her biceps seemed to grow about another inch and her other muscles also looked even larger. She sighed, and thought, oh Alex, how can I ever thank you?

Sarah's back was against the door, to guard it. She told Carl, "You can go now. Pull your pants up first, you look ridiculous," and moved aside. He complied, and slunk out, looking beaten and afraid. Sarah felt a bit sorry for him, but just a bit. After all, he was willing to do the act, but unhappy with the consequences of the action. Sarah always admired people who took more responsibility than that.

Carl was presentable enough to leave, but after the door closed again, Sarah began to worry about her own exit. She had grown quite a few sizes, after all, and the clothes she had entered the closet with no longer fit by any stretch of the imagination. She looked at the ruined sleeves, and sighed. Had she gotten the muscles she wanted, only to be stuck in a closet?

She reassured herself that Alex would come looking for her soon. Could she come up with a solution before then? She tested the zipper, and it would meet at her bellybutton, and even zip and rise a few inches. It was snug, but it did close. Now, would it cover her breasts, at least long enough to get to the locker room? She tugged and adjusted, and it was nowhere near perfect, but it would work to just barely cover the nipples of her newly expansive chest. At least, it would work for a minute or two. Now, pants?

She carefully pulled up her underwear and gym shorts. It was a time-consuming process, getting the shorts up over her newly enlarged thighs, but slow and steady got the job done. The gym shorts were slightly torn in a few places, but they would cover what had to be covered while she made a break for it. She slowly opened the closet door, and looked for an escape route. There was the rear door to the women's lockers, just 15 feet away. It would mean only a second or two of visibility to an occupied area. It was a risk worth taking, and she moved carefully but quickly. Sarah reached the locker room door, and slipped in.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, and leaned against the wall. She put her left hand on her right bicep and flexed. She smiled broadly at the bulge she felt. It's all worth it, she thought. Now, though, she had to get home. "Alex?" she called hopefully. No answer. Hearing the shower running, she went to that side of the enclosure and called again. "Alex?"

"Sarah?" came the now-familiar voice. "How'd it go?"

"Stay there, I'll come and show you." Sarah unzipped the jacket and removed it, dropping it to the floor. Alex might want to see it before they threw it away. She slipped off the gym shorts and underwear, tearing them beyond usefulness in the process. She dropped them into the nearest garbage can. Then she reached into her own locker and grabbed her towel and shampoo, and headed into the shower.

The shower setup was a large open area, with six shower heads. It was a typical open gym shower, befitting a YMCA, more functional than beautiful. Only one shower was running, the one occupied by Alex. Sarah stopped short on seeing Alex naked. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to her that Alex would be nude in the shower. She laughed a bit to herself, and then went over to her. Alex was even more beautiful and impressive when undressed than with clothes on. Sarah hoped the same was true of herself.

Alex's eyes threatened to pop right out of her head. "Holy cow, girl! Look at you! That was some sexual encounter! How do you feel?"

"I feel great," said Sarah. "Look at these!" She flexed both biceps and they swelled up to incredible size.

"Wow. Let's compare." Alex walked right up to Sarah, and flexed her own biceps to match her new friend. Sarah realized she was actually an inch or two taller than Alex. She had gotten the impression that Alex was taller. They lined up their arms together as best as they could. It was close, but Sarah's seemed to peak a bit higher. "I think you win this round, girl."

"I can't thank you enough," said Sarah, grabbing Alex into a tight hug.

"Ooof! Boy, you're strong too, girl! And I don't swing that way!"

"Don't worry, I'm a heterosexual. I'm just excited."

"And I was teasing. You look amazing. And there's no doubt, you're bigger than me. Taller, and more muscular. I've got some work to do to catch up," she said with a wink.

"Hence lies the problem," said Sarah. "I have nothing to wear."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that. My stuff might fit you, at least enough to get home, but I didn't bring an extra outfit."

"Yeah. What I had lasted long enough to get in here. It won't get me home."

"Well, I live just 10 minutes away. I can run home, pick up an outfit, and be back in less than half an hour. It will at least get you to your place, or a clothing store."

"I would really appreciate it."

"I'll dry off and head out right now. All you have to do is...take a shower for the next 30 minutes, I guess."

"I'll find a way to amuse myself."

Alex smiled sardonically. "I just bet you will." She left the shower room and started toweling off.

Sarah sighed. Thirty minutes was a long time to be in the shower. Still, there were these new muscles to check out. She began flexing, testing her new look. Yeah, this could take half an hour, she thought, her hands running over the individual abdominals. Maybe longer.

*******************************************
*******************************************

Chapter Six: the House

Harry woke to his 5 o'clock alarm the next morning, his usual time to get up for his morning run. Oddly, Vicki was not beside him. Their morning routine was that he would rise, quickly wash up, and get out the door for his run by 5:15. Vicki would get up then, and prepare for her own run. That way, they were not competing for the bathroom. Harry would run his five miles in about 30 minutes, return to the house, shower, and get ready for work. Vicki would be heading out for her run about the time Harry was returning, and run her three miles in about 20 minutes. She would return about the time Harry would emerge from the bathroom, and get her own shower. Harry would get out some fruit and granola for their breakfast, and leave the house about 6:30 to teach history (and coach track) at the high school. Vicki would eat her breakfast and leave the house about 7, to open her travel agency.

It was a routine, and Harry liked routine. For Vicki not to be where she usually was worried him, and upset him a little. He headed to the bathroom for his usual toilet, and headed out the door at his usual time. At the running track, he found Vicki, already completing a run.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"I woke up early, about 4, and just felt so awake. So I got ready and came out to run early. I ran my three miles, but I barely broke a sweat. I checked my watch, and I had run it in 14 minutes! I haven't run that pace since college! I decided to run another three, and finally got up a good sweat. After last night, when we...enjoyed each other, I just have so much energy!"

That was saying a lot, because Vicki was a woman who hardly ever sat still. She was always doing something; cleaning house, working on her flowers outside, helping their elderly neighbor. Even at her travel office, unless she was with a client she was always moving.

"Are you all right?"

"I've never felt better. Honey, I know it's Saturday, but I'm going to go in to the office for a couple of hours. There's something I've wanted to do but haven't had the time. I should be back about 9, and then we can head to the health food store and run our errands."

"All right," said Harry with some trepidation. "That's just a little later than usual."
"I'm going to go shower quickly and then head out. I won't be long." Vicki kissed him and took up a quick pace back home.

Harry ran as usual, showered as usual, and got dressed. He got antsy about 8:30, their usual time to leave the house on Saturdays. Vicki returned about 8:45.

"Ready?" she called.

"Of course."

"Sorry for the delay and thanks for waiting." She wrapped her arms around him and reached up for a kiss. Mollified, he bent down and kissed her tenderly.

Vicki said, "We'd better get going, or I'm going to drag you back to the bedroom again." Torn between the schedule and the temptation, Harry hesitated before heading out to the car. They drove off to share their usual Saturday together.
Their stops were their usual haunts, with a couple of additions. Vicki went into a department store and emerged a short time later. ("I had to get a new bra," she said quietly to him. "The one I had on felt tight for some reason.") He said nothing, but remembered his own thoughts from last night.

For the next week, they made love every night, often multiple times. Harry continued to notice that Vicki's muscles seemed bigger, especially around her legs. Her breasts continued to grow, slightly. The next Saturday, he put his hands on her arms and felt a decided bulge to her triceps. They felt so big; he thought for a minute she must have something there....a cyst? The muscle felt the size of a golf ball under her skin. This size unnerved him. That afternoon, he saw her flexing while looking at herself in the bathroom mirror.

"Vicki, what?"

"Oh! Harry. I didn't know you were there." Vicki quickly lowered her arms.

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing. Just...stretching."

"It didn't look like stretching to me."

"Well, I was...my body seems to have changed this last week. I was trying to figure out how much."

"I don't like it."

"What?"

"Your nice, clean lines have been ruined. Now you have all these...curves, and bulges. It's just not attractive."

"You seem to be the only one that thinks so," she shot back, and regretted it immediately.

"What? Who have you been talking to?"

It was too late, Vicki knew. She had opened the can of worms. "People at work. The ladies at my book club. The people I see every day. They think I look like a new woman."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I want the woman I married."

"You've been happy enough with me this week when we were having sex."

"At first. Now, there are all these...changes." He grabbed her arm. "Show me what you were looking at!"

Angrily, she raised her other arm and flexed. A bicep popped up, full and round. It was a bulge slightly smaller than a baseball, about 13 inches. Certainly not huge, but much bigger than Vicki had ever been before.

"Look at that! That's what I mean! What are you doing with muscles like those?"

"Giving you more pleasure than you've ever had, I thought! Apparently I was wrong!"

'I wanted my wife to have sex with me, not become some monster with huge bulging muscles!"

"Oh, grow up, Harry. They aren't that big."

"They're bigger than mine!"

"Whose fault is that?"

At that, he stormed out, out of the room and out of the house. She heard him start the car and ran to the living room as he drove away. She watched him drive down the street, aghast that he could just leave like that. They had fought before, but never so heatedly, and never before had one of them stormed out.

Vicki was so angry and frustrated, she was shaking. She started to cry. After a few minutes, she got hold of herself enough to pick up the phone. At first she didn't know who to call. Finally, she dialed Yvonne, her partner at the travel agency.

"Hello?"

"Yvonne? It's Vicki."

"Vicki? This is a surprise. You never call on a Saturday. What's up?"

"Harry and I had a fight. He stormed out, drove off. I don't know what to do."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Do you need me to come over?"

"Maybe. Could we just...talk for awhile?"

"Sure thing, Vick. Tell me your troubles. Leave nothing out." Yvonne was older, in her forties to Vicki's 30. She was a steady, calming personality, and she had been divorced. Vicki poured out her feelings for the next half an hour.

"So he doesn't like the new look."

"And I thought he did! He seemed excited enough at first."

"He was probably just excited about the sex. Men tend to take their pleasure first, and then balk at accepting consequences."

"I thought Harry really loved me."

"He does, I think, but he also loves his routine. I know, from talking to kids at that school, that Harry hates anything that changes a daily routine. Fire drills, assemblies, snow delays...drive the man nuts. And he drives the kids nuts with his complaining about them; probably the administration and other teachers too."

"What are you saying?"

"I think you changed the status quo, and rocked his world. And he decided he didn't like it."

Vicki sighed, and was quiet for some time. "Do you think he'll come back?"

"If he's smart, he'll figure out what he would be giving up. Plus, he'll hate being out of his house. Out of his routine, you know. Then again, by what you are telling me, he may have come to a conclusion."

"What conclusion?"

"That he prefers the change he chose to the one he didn't."

"What do I do?"

"At this point, the next move is his. Now, do you want me to come over? If he doesn't come back, or in case he does, either way?"

"No. Not yet, anyway. Thanks for giving up part of your Saturday."

"You are my friend, and have been there for me before. It's the least I can do. And I'll be home, so you can call me if you need anything...even if it's a ride to work Monday."

"I could always run."

"That's the spirit. I'll check on you tomorrow. Call anytime."

"Thanks." Vicki hung up, and the silence of the house grew oppressive. She had been hoping that Harry would cool down and return while she was on the phone. She was left to wonder what came next. She went back to the bathroom. Tentatively, she raised her arms again, and flexed.

"I like them. I don't care what Harry says. I like having muscles," Vicki said to the mirror, and the face in the mirror agreed. Now sure of her position, Vicki went about the rest of her day: gardening, dinner (alone, which felt odd), and early bedtime. It felt very strange, as she had not slept alone since before they were married. When one went on a trip, the other went along, or Vicki went with Yvonne for the travel business and they shared a room. Vicki couldn't remember sleeping all alone in a house before. Nervous, she got back up, and decided to exercise to calm herself. What to do? She settled on sit-ups, did 50 quickly, and then decided to try those new biceps on some pushups. She did 50 of those as well, and it felt easy. 50 more sit-ups and 50 more pushups, and she decided to try sleeping again. This time she was able to relax, and soon dropped off.

She woke before her alarm went off at 5:15, as she had been all week. Harry's side of the bed hadn't been slept in, and the car was not back. Vicki had hoped he would return during the night after clearing his head. She resolved to get on with her life, and prepared for her run. The new spring she had found in her step, and her increased pace, led her to a new exercise plan: 10 miles, which she ran in 95 minutes. It was an astonishing pace, really, for an amateur runner. Vicki was finding that in this, her fourth time running the new routine, the run was feeling smooth and familiar. She had never been a marathon runner, but she was now running nearly a half-marathon as a daily exercise. Maybe it was time to step up her game.

She returned to the house, and paused at the front. The car had still not returned. Once again she had hoped Harry would return, but there was still no sign of him. She began to get angry with him for taking off with their one car. As she started for the house, she heard her name. It was Roger, who lived two doors down.

"Hi, Vicki! Good run?"

"Yes, I love the spring weather for running. How are you?"

"Heading out for my three miles. Is Harry away?"

"Yes, he's....gone for a couple of days. (I hope just a couple) Anything new with you?"

"The grocery business hums along. People always need to eat."

"I imagine so."

"You're looking fit lately...I mean, even more so than usual. Changing your routine?"

"A little. I've been, uh, picking up some muscle mass."

"It looks good on you. A little muscle mass fills out the curves."

"Thanks for noticing. I'm not sure Harry agrees."

"Oh, that's too bad. A man should appreciate a beautiful wife. Tell him I said that."

"You should tell him yourself. He might get jealous."

"Ouch. Trouble in paradise?"

She hadn't meant to admit it, but the emotions were still raw. "Yes. I...I don't know when he'll be back."

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. Let me make it up to you by having you over for lunch later."

"I'm hoping Harry will be home."

"If he is, bring him, and I'll tell him what a fool he is. And I will make you both lunch. I make a mean chicken salad."

"Thank you."

"Come over at 12:30. I won't take no for an answer. I will prepare for three, just in case."

"That's very kind of you."

"I mean it. 12:30 sharp. Don't be late."

"OK, OK." Roger was a good neighbor. Vicki had always liked him, and she liked his chicken salad too.

"Time for my run. Until then," and he jogged off.

Vicki returned to her house. She took off her warm-up jacket and pants, and stood before the full-length mirror in sports bra and underwear. She checked the newly emerging muscle groups. She had those 13-inch biceps, solid triceps, six-pack...wait, eight-pack abs, and full, sweeping thighs. Roger was right, she decided. The growing fullness of the muscles provided a sweep and a curve she liked, that was aesthetically pleasing. Harry and his love of straight lines and minimal curves would just have to change, or stay gone. Times changed, after all, and Vicki was changing too.

As Roger jogged around the track, he made a mental note to talk to his doctor about that new prescription stuff he had seen on TV. If the most beautiful woman in the neighborhood was going to be splitting with her husband, well, Roger saw no reason to let an opportunity pass. Just because Harry wanted to be stupid didn't mean Roger had to be.

******************************************
******************************************

Chapter 7: the Apartment Building

Rob released Amanda's hand to get his keys and unlock his apartment. He swung the door open, and flipped up the light switch, but nothing happened. He had been afraid of this: the crash when he had tossed his pack into the room earlier had been the light by the door. He opened the door to let the light from the hallway into the apartment, then found another light inside to turn on. "Come in," he told the tall blonde with him.

She did, shyly. She had never been alone with a man in his apartment before. It looked like the cliché of a single man's apartment she had heard about. There was a stack of empty pizza boxes, a small pile of magazines of questionable content, and papers scattered across the couch, which seemed to be the only place to sit. It was a small apartment, and sparsely furnished. There was this front room, which served as living room with couch and big-screen TV (of course), a small kitchenette area to the side with a small stack of dishes in the sink, and a card table to the back of the room that seemed to serve as a dining table and mail catch-all. There were two doors to the other side, presumably to the bedroom and bathroom.

Rob gathered papers from the couch. "Would you like to sit down?"

"OK."

She seated herself on the middle cushion, and he sat beside her, his arm across the back of the couch behind her but not quite touching her. The difference in their heights was less noticeable sitting: Amanda was not quite six feet tall, Rob about five feet eight inches. Rob was wearing his dress pants from work, and had put his shirt back on after an earlier sexual adventure with two women across the hall named Samantha and Susan. He had only partially buttoned the shirt, and his tie was draped across his shoulders. Noticing it, he got up and hung it across one of the doorknobs to their left, then returned. Amanda smoothed the front of her button-up blouse nervously.

His eyes drawn to where her hand was moving, Rob noticed the curved material covering her breasts. He liked a woman with some size to her breasts, as well as the shoulder-length blonde hair and the slightly upturned nose. On the down side, the material was also curved over her stomach: Amanda was definitely carrying some extra weight. She looked a lot, he thought, like someone still carrying their baby fat. Amanda had said she was 23, but she had the appearance of someone younger; an innocent. Finally, Rob thought, a woman with less experience than he.

"So what do you do?" Rob asked conversationally.

"I work in an office, administrative assistant. Secretarial stuff. I have a degree in marketing, but my grades weren't that good, so I'm trying to build up my resume' to get a better job." There was nervousness in her voice.

"What do you do?" she added, filling the pause. Susan always says I am too inconsiderate in conversation, thought Amanda.

"I'm an accountant. The office is just three blocks away. I'm not that bright, I suppose, but I can add columns of figures like nobody's business."

"That's good. I guess."

"The pay isn't bad. I just got a raise, actually. I work pretty quickly, and don't make many mistakes. I actually did more tax returns than anyone else in the office this year. That's why I got the raise."

"That's great!"

"If you want, maybe I could put in a word for you at work."

"That would be nice. Right now I'm just part time. That's why I still live with my parents. I only worked Monday and Tuesday this week. Mostly they have me fill in when someone else is off."

"How did you meet Samantha and Susan?"

"We all went to the same schools. I grew up in this building, and so did Samantha. Susan's family lived down the block. We're all the same age, actually, or at least in the same school grade. I'm a couple months younger. I was always tall, and a little chubby, and shy. Kids teased me. It could get kind of mean. Samantha and Susan have been standing up for me and defending me for years."

"That's very nice of them."

"They don't always seem like it, especially Susan, but they have been very good to me. I don't know how much time Susan has spent tutoring me in this class or that. She's really smart. Susan isn't always patient, but she is with me. I'm not quite sure why."

"Probably because you are such a nice person."

"Samantha is really social, and she is always trying to get me to go out and meet people. They take me along to all these parties and events. Samantha actually has a job with a company that arranges events, and she gets to go to some of them and take us, me and Susan, along. She's really good at her job; she gets along so well with people."

"I'm sure you are very friendly with people."

"I can hardly talk to anyone I don't know. Samantha has introduced me to every boy I've ever dated. She even sets me up for the dates, and helps me dress. She takes me to buy clothes so I don't look so....dumpy."

"I think you look beautiful."

"This is an outfit Samantha picked out. The only things I have that Samantha didn't pick are t-shirts."

"I think you would look wonderful in a t-shirt."

Amanda finally cracked a smile. "You're being very nice."

Rob eased his hand forward to touch her shoulder. She flinched, but didn't protest. He leaned forward to kiss her. She didn't move to meet him, but didn't move away. Their lips met, joined briefly, and then parted. Amanda blinked repeatedly.

"How do you feel?" Rob asked.

"G-g-g-g-g-good."

He pulled lightly on her other shoulder, guiding her head downward to his shoulder. She had to lean over a bit to accomplish this, due to their height difference. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. Her hair was soft, and it smelled of flowers. Rob breathed it in, feeling very much at ease. Amanda tipped her head back, and closed her eyes, then opened them to look into his.

She didn't say anything, just looked into his eyes for long minutes. Then the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile. She laid her head to the side, resting against his shoulder, touching her forehead to his neck. Rob smiled. He kissed her forehead again, and then leaned down toward her lips. This time she stretched toward him in response, and they kissed more deeply. After a release, they did so again, this time with more passion and urgency.

She reached a hand into his open shirt. It was the first time she had touched him without prompting. She touched his thin chest, his too-prominent stomach, but there was tenderness there. Her urgency increased. She worked her hand to his shoulder. Rob's smile widened. His hand went to her cheek, then down onto her blouse. He rubbed her shoulder through her blouse, then moved his hand to the buttons and began to release them.

He unbuttoned the top two closures and touched the skin underneath. It was soft and smooth to his touch. He could now see the cleavage in the bra. It was pleasingly full. He began to unbutton another, when she took his hand. "Could we go, uh, into the bedroom? I feel like someone could walk in."

"The door is locked."

"I would rather, well, it feels more private."

"Of course." He stood up, and took her hand, and led her to the door farthest to the back. "That one's the bathroom," he pointed to the other door. He opened the door to the bedroom. There was just a bed, a dresser, and a nightstand, but it looked neater than the other room, somehow. Apparently he just slept back here, and didn't leave a mess...except for the dirty clothes on the floor.

"Sorry," he said, and kicked some clothes into a pile, making a path to the bed. The bed wasn't made, but it appeared clean. Truth was, his mother changed the sheets every two weeks when she visited. At this point, they were fairly fresh.

"I do need to go to the bathroom," she said.

"Sure. I'll be right here."

As she went to the toilet, a thought struck him. He ran to the apartment door and checked it. Yep, he hadn't locked it. He did now, and returned to the bedroom. He picked up some clothes and put them in his hamper, and straightened a few other things, smoothed the bed sheets. He really wasn't in this room much, just to sleep and change.

She returned in a couple of minutes, and smiled at him. He really liked that smile. They sat down together on the bed, and he returned to his work of unbuttoning, interrupting himself to stroke her bare skin. They kissed at intervals. Rob was thinking this was already his best date ever. His work with the buttons done, he slowly pulled her blouse off her shoulders. He could see her bra, holding the ample breasts, and below it the ample stomach with its fat rolls. He rubbed her belly. It, too, was soft and smooth.

"Susan is always telling me to exercise. They have been taking me to the gym lately. I've lost ten pounds this month."

"I like it," he said. She had body fat on her arms, too, but again it looked mostly like youthful chubbiness. He tried to unhook her bra, but had trouble managing it. She put her hands behind her back and did it for him, then smiled as he pulled the bra forward and away from her. Amanda's breasts now were fully revealed to him, full and round and inviting. These were true D-cups, he could tell, from the ones he had seen in the magazines. He caressed them as gently as he could.

"Oooooh," she responded to his delight. "I like you touching me." He couldn't find words, didn't really want to. He had never seen breasts this big in person, and put a hand to each of hers. Their size was intoxicating. She leaned back to lie on the bed. The breasts sagged a bit to the side, but he pushed them back toward the front with his hands. The large nipples began to stand erect, exciting him even more.

"Come closer," she said, and he quickly did so. Amanda reached up and pulled his open shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, then began to rub him. She worked at his pants, and got them loose. He stood up quickly and slid them off, then sat down again. She worked on her jeans closure button, and got it unhooked, then unzipped her pants. He moved his hand down to the lower part of her belly, and started sliding down her jeans, rubbing her around her navel. "Wait," she said, then stood up, slid off her own pants, and returned to her reclining position. He rubbed her legs briefly, but quickly returned to her breasts.

They worked their way to a position where they were laying and facing each other on the bed. She ran her hand up and down his back, and kissed him lightly about the face. He caressed her body, but kept returning to the breasts. They continued their tactile introductions for quite some time. His erection, obvious in his underwear, rose and fell slightly but kept a certain tension. Finally, Amanda set her resolve to take the next step, and slipped her hands into his waistband to remove his boxers. He helped her get the underwear over his penis, which became more erect with its freedom. His slid his own hands into her panties, and slid her underwear over her ample butt.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said with a confidence he hadn't yet heard in her voice. "I am ready to make love to you."

"You sound like you've made a decision."

"I did. I actually did an hour ago, but I was waiting for the moment. They were good moments."

"I liked them."

"You've been very gentle. I think you like these breasts."

"Yeah, I do. Is that OK?"

"It's very OK. I am enjoying the attention."

"Since you haven't done this part before, I should tell you. They say the first time can hurt, for a girl."

"I had heard that."

"I don't want to hurt you. I promise to be careful."

"I trust you."

"OK." He raised himself to his hands and knees, and straddled her. He leaned down as she stretched her neck up, and they kissed. He began kissing her shoulders, then her breasts, his erection gaining firmness as he went. Soon, he moved into position, and inserted himself into her. She gasped, and he stopped moving.

"OK?"

"Yeah," she said quickly and breathily, and with a bit of pain in her voice. He eased himself forward, and she released her breath. "Oh. That's better." A little farther. "Oh. Ooooooh. That's good. That feels really good."

He agreed with her, but silently. He eased himself a little farther into her, and then began a rhythmic motion. She responded with quiet sounds rather than words now. Amanda was both taller and heavier than Rob, and making love to someone of her size was a new experience: sex before had usually been with girls smaller than him physically. He found he could go very deeply into her, and that to do so registered a strongly positive response. He was still trying to be gentle, but she was obviously enjoying the sex. So was he.

He worked at her pleasure, and his own, for about fifteen minutes until his excitement overcame him and he ejaculated. Sighing and tired, he set himself down on the bed next to her.

"Oh," she said, a bit startled as he removed his penis, and then settled down next to her. "Is it over? Do we have to stop? I really liked that."

"Sorry, I 'came.' I need to rest a minute."

"Then can we, uh, make love some more?"

"I would be glad to." He stroked her breasts, which got his erection rising again.

"Ooooooh. I'm glad. I didn't want you to stop. I've never felt so good before."

"I will have to work on lasting longer. You just get me all excited."

"No one's ever said that to me before."

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, please."

He took the superior position again and quickly found coitus. She cooed at the contact. He worked more energetically this time, confident that she was prepared for something more strenuous. Amanda certainly did not complain. She was very vocally appreciative, if not exactly verbal, nor particularly loud. He probed deeply, and tried to attain different angles. Whatever he tried, she seemed to like. He found that his position was perfect to lean down and kiss her breasts while he pumped, and did so frequently. This time, he lasted half an hour before giving in to passion.

Rob eased himself back onto the bed, and panted with fatigue. Amanda stretched and sighed. She rolled toward him and kissed him, caressing his face. "You're wonderful," she said. "I always dreamed of having a special lover."

"Oh, the pleasure is mine. This is the greatest night of my life."

"Can you do it again?"

Rob thought a minute. "Do it, yes, get on top, no. My arms are getting sore. Would you like to be on top?"

"Really? I hadn't thought of that. Is that all right?"

"It's very all right."

"Are you ready?"

"Touch it and find out."

Amanda reached down and touched his penis. She hadn't touched it with her fingers yet. At the first contact, it sprang immediately erect. "Oh!" she said, pulling her hand away. She returned her fingers to it, and it firmed with her touch. "That's amazing."

"I told you, you get me all excited."

"I see that." She raised herself up on her arms, and moved over between his legs. Cautiously, she lowered herself onto his madly erect penis, with a long, "ooooooooooh." Rob felt the same way.

She began to gently move her pelvis up and down, testing the new sensation. Rob reached up, finding her breasts at a convenient position for his hands, hanging directly over his face. He stroked them, and stretched his neck up to kiss the nipples, which became more pronounced with his attentions. That made him smile. He distracted himself for several long minutes with her breasts and her hair draping over his face.

Amanda was very much absorbed in this new hobby, looking very intent. She was making louder sounds of pleasure now. Apparently she had found a sensitive spot. Rob reached his hands to her stomach, which felt...smaller than before. That was a surprise. It wasn't flat, but the two rolls of fat from before seemed to have consolidated into one, smaller than either there previously. He returned to the breasts, which seemed the same size. That was good, he liked them that way. He rubbed her arms, which also felt slimmer. A little investigation led to the discovery of a small triceps bulge on each arm. He was quite sure that those hadn't been there before. Her butt felt smoother, less flabby, and so did her legs.

He raised his hands to the sides of her waist, which felt narrower than before. This was new. He had seen changes that evening in Samantha and Susan, but they had appeared to grow. Amanda, it appeared, was shrinking. No, that wasn't right; she was just as tall as before. It was like she was on a diet, and he was seeing the effects all at once.

Amanda was panting now, her vocalizations growing louder. She was practically shouting, "Oh! Oh!" as she thrusted with enthusiasm. He took both cheeks of her butt in his hands, and pushed his own pelvis upward, thrusting more deeply into her than they had yet accomplished. That brought a very loud, "Oooooohhhh!!!" and a series of gasps. She stopped making like she was riding a bucking bronco, and slowly lowered herself onto him with deep sighs. Quite apparently, she had climaxed. Her weight on him was a bit uncomfortable, and he moved slightly to the side so he could continue to breathe.

She laid on him for several minutes, motionless except for her panting. He rubbed her back, ran his fingers through her hair. She still smelled wonderful, the floral scent mixing with sweat now. He kissed her shoulder. Slowly her breathing returned to near normal.

"Better now?" He asked.

"Woooonderful," she drew out with emotion. "I think I...like being on top."

"I'd say."

"And there was....absolutely nothing wrong with...you being on top either."

"Good. I like that too."

Her breathing was still heavy, but slower now. "Oh. I've got to go to the bathroom." She started to rise, and before she had gone far, his penis emerged from her, softer now but still slightly firm. She gasped. "Yeah. Bathroom."

He heard the sound of the urine. It seemed to last for quite some time. Did women have bladders that big? Soon her voice called from the bathroom, "Rob, do you have a scale in here?"

"Under the sink."

"Oh, there it is." A pause. "Oh my. I don't believe it. I just don't believe it."

"What's wrong?"

She returned to the bedroom. "Unless your scale is way off from mine, I've lost 20 pounds since the last time I weighed myself. And that was just a couple of days ago."

"You said you had lost 10."

"Yes, but that was in a month, as of Monday. This is another 20. That's amazing." She looked at herself. "And I look like I've lost weight. My stomach is smaller. My thighs are smaller."

"You felt slimmer this time than when we started."

"I didn't know sex was this much exercise."

"Well, I was doing it too, and I sure didn't lose 20 pounds tonight."

"Wait. Earlier, when you were....Samantha and Sarah looked like they got bigger. I got smaller. What's going on?"

"Maybe it's different for different people. And, I felt some muscles back here before," he said, feeling the back of her arm for the triceps.

She straightened her arm to flex them, and felt the muscle pop up. "You're right. I've never felt that back there before. I've never felt any of my muscles before. This is amazing." She bent her arm forward, trying to flex a bicep. "Maybe there's something there. I'm not sure."

Rob tested with his hand. "I feel something. Maybe we should...do some more, er, exercise?"

Amanda laughed. "Oh, you're a bad boy. It's wonderful, wonderful. I've never felt so good. And you know, I don't know that I've ever been this thin. I weighed 183 pounds just now. That's the lowest I've been since at least sophomore year of high school."

Rob reached up and stroked her breasts. "I would love to help you lose another ten or twenty pounds right now."

Amanda cradled his head in her hands, kissed his forehead, and tipped his head back then lowered her lips to his. They kissed passionately. She steered him back toward the bed, then lay down herself, pulling him toward her.

"Your turn on top," she said.

"Don't mind if I do," he said.

They made love all night. Amanda finally dozed off about 5:30 AM. Rob was exhausted, but stayed up until 6 to call into his office, because that was when David at the switchboard came on.

"Smith Accounting," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi, David, it's Rob. I'm taking a sick day today and tomorrow."

"Hey buddy, got a girl for a long weekend, eh? Time for a big day off?"

"I finished the project I was on yesterday, so I decided to get some rest and start a new one Monday. Just taking a little free time."

"You've earned it, I hear. That was a big account you took over, and the brass sounds pleased with your work. People are saying good things about you."

"And you would know."

"That I would. In my job, I hear everything."

"Thanks, David. See you Monday."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do. On second thought, do lots of stuff I wouldn't do. You'll have more fun that way. I'll pass the message along."

"Bye."

Rob hung up the phone and thought about how his life was going. Things were going very well at work, and this new love life seemed very promising. Amanda was quite a girl, and he hoped she would be around for a long time. Maybe he should join a gym, start taking better care of himself. The way things were going, she might start attracting guys a lot better-looking than him soon. Best to keep ahead of that...and he wanted to look good for her.

But now, he needed some sleep. It had been a long, glorious night, and he was hoping for another just like it.

******************************************
******************************************

Chapter 8: the Lab
Holly woke up the next morning, reached beside her to touch Peter, but he wasn't there. She rolled up onto her elbow, and then spotted him by the full-length mirror. She rolled out of bed and walked over to stand behind him. He was flexing his biceps. She wrapped her arms around his middle.

"What are you up to?" she asked.

"16 inches," he replied. "Unless you meant down here." He moved her hands to his penis. "That's six inches relaxed, ten inches erect. Like now."

She moved her hands back to his stomach. "You and your measurements. I think you know that wasn't what I meant. What are you doing?"

"Admiring all that you have done for me."

"You helped, you realize."

"A bit. It was mostly you."

"That's not how I remember it."

"Then your memory must be faulty. Let's go over the story again, shall we?"

Holly sighed. It was, after all, her life's work. "In grad school, my advisor's big research project was for a sports franchise, trying to develop a "safe steroid," something to increase muscle mass and strength without such nasty side effects."

"Because all anabolic steroids have the effect of increasing the level of testosterone in the body, which helps build muscle. But, to have enough to make a difference, men get so much that their body's natural production shuts down, and women start developing male characteristics. Both effects are undesirable."

"Very. Men with testicles the size of raisins, women with beards and terrible acne,"

"Like the 1970s East German swimmers."

"Yes, like that."

"But you never got anywhere, because everything you developed got converted to testosterone in the body, and ended up producing the same side effects."

"Right. But, we came up with some interesting ideas, and at least advanced the discussion."

"And got your name on some scientific papers."

"Yours too."

"Mostly, I washed test tubes."

"You don't get your name on a paper because you can make glassware sparkle...although you can."

"I thank you for your compliment."

"Then I came here to Sandoz. At first, I worked on product testing, where most newbies break in. After six months, I transferred to R&D."

"While I stayed in testing."

"You're good at it."

"True enough."

"We were working on an 'erectile dysfunction' drug, but Viagra got to market first. Everyone was working on one, because it was an obvious moneymaker."

"Because everyone knows guys will always pay for sex."

"Um, yeah." She eyed him suspiciously.

"But not all of us have to."

"So noted. We were beaten to the market, but got our own out soon enough to get some market share. Then attention turned to the next big thing: actually increasing the size of a man's penis."

"Because everyone knows..."

"Yes, yes, we've established that. People had actually been working on such a thing for many years. There are all kinds of 'herbal remedies' out."

"For 'male enhancement.'"

"None of which actually work, except perhaps to increase self-confidence. To actually increase the size of one part of the body, but not others, is difficult. It's very specialized work."

"Requiring an exceptional mind."

"I worked on the team for awhile. We didn't get very far, but we did make some progress. The team didn't work together very well."

"Remembering who was on that team with you, I'm not surprised."

"I have put it out of my mind. One day, as I was going back through some data, I noticed that several of the molecules we thought had shown promise, were very similar to molecules we had been working with in the muscle experiments. I couldn't get anyone else on the team to work with me on it, though. It wasn't long until the team was dissolved."

"Now we're getting to my favorite part."

"I went to the R&D manager, told him I had some ideas to work with, and asked to form my own team. He suggested some people, but I told him the main problem with the original team was a failure to work together, and asked to pick my own people, ones I was sure would work together."

"Including me!"

"Yes, including you, and some other newer scientists who hadn't had time to get territorial yet."

"It was a good team, even if it had me on it."

"I needed you. You're the best product tester in the company."

"How you do go on."

"I had some ideas to try out, and I put different people in charge of different aspects. I didn't tell anyone about my overall goals, largely because I needed you all to focus on your own parts of the project, and to see if you could come together to the same hypotheses I had."

"Things went pretty well."

"We were able to move between the similar molecules, making one from the other and sometimes even back. It was very encouraging."

"Eventually, Steve and Rhonda came to you with an idea. The same one you had thought of already."

"That's when I knew I was onto something."

"And a success was born."

"Partly. I still had a few things to work out, and a few tricks up my sleeve. We could manage a molecule that would actually grow a man's penis, though only to 12 inches. Kind of like how aspirin lowers a fever, but doesn't lower a normal temperature. And it worked fast; dosage two pills per day for a week, one per day for another week, and then twice a week for maintenance. You could take more, but you'd just be paying to pee it out."

"Which doesn't help."

"No. The trick I thought I could manage was to get that molecule to change into something that would help build muscle but not have the side effects. The key I developed was for the male to metabolize the original drug, and then transfer the new molecule to the female through the semen, where it would be activated to build muscle. It was the only way to make it work. Men get the bigger penis, women get the bigger muscles. It didn't work in the male body. Homosexual sex doesn't work the same way, because putting the metabolite into a male body does not activate the molecule. The hormone balance is too different."

"Brilliant in its simplicity."

""What was a surprise was the 'backwash' effect. The men who make love to said women also get some muscle-building effect, apparently by having the chemical passed back to them through sex, after it had been metabolized by the female."

"Hence my progress from 130-pound weakling."

"Which I find quite endearing."

"Almost as much as I like your 30-inch biceps."

She flexed one for him. He smiled broadly. "I have always appreciated the effect on you," he said.

"My original idea was just to help women like myself improve our muscle tone, lose some weight," Holly said. "I actually had no idea at the time just how far one could go."

"You've gone pretty far."

"I liked the effect and rode with it. You haven't complained."

"Not once. It's been quite a ride."

"So, how many women do you think will match you, er, flex for flex?"

"Probably not that many. Women who exercise seriously can put on serious muscle. Those who exercise some will notice some effect. Everyone who has contact with the molecule should notice better muscle tone, maybe some weight loss. But, as with any anabolic, you have to exercise to get the full effect."

"And with that, I'd better get dressed and head to work."

"Me too. Don't forget the concert tonight."

"I am looking forward to it. See you about 5."

The patents from the new drug had made both of them rich, and they really didn't have to work anymore. But both did, with generous benefits from a company making billions off their work. Holly and Peter could both set their own hours, though they tended to work a full day, supervising the production of Mannitol.

Just before 5, they met again at the apartment. Peter changed into a dress shirt and slacks, Holly into a simple black dress, sleeveless and mid-thigh length. Peter admired her shape, as he often did.

"You look stunning."

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself, mister."

"We'd better get going if we want to get there on time."

They jumped into the car and headed out. It was a two-hour drive to the venue. However, they hadn't gotten far, not even to the interstate, when they came upon a stopped motorist. Holly pulled in front of the stopped car, and both of them got out to see if they could help.

"What's the problem, sir?" Holly asked.

"Flat tire, and my jack is busted. My goodness, girl, you've been eating your Wheaties!"

Holly smiled. "Thank you, sir; I like to keep in shape. Which tire?"

"This one."

Peter crouched down beside the car, and tested the jack. "Yep, nothing here. To get this tire changed, we'll have to figure out some other way to raise up the vehicle."

"I can handle that part," Holly said. She moved to the back of the car, grabbed the back bumper, and started lifting.

"Holly! Holly! Stop! Stop! Put it down!"

"What's the matter?"

"While the Wonder Woman bit is really hot, you're likely to tear off a fender or something. If you are going to lift it, you need to apply the force down here."

"Where?" she said, crouching beside him.

"See where the jack is? It's under the car frame. To avoid causing damage, you need to lift the frame."

"OK, that's means I need to slide under there. I'll need something to slide on."

"Hey, mister, you got a blanket or a pad or something?"

"I got a blanket in the back seat. I'll get it," he said.

Peter took the blanket and spread it on the ground. Holly sat on it, her head toward the car. Leaning close to Peter, she said, "Don't let him look up my dress," and lay back under the car. She searched for a grip for her hands, and then pushed the car upward. It rose steadily.

"OK?" asked Holly.

"It's a little tight, but we'll work with it." Peter set about taking the bolts off to remove the tire.

"Wait, this isn't working," Holly said. "Going down." She eased the car back to the ground.

"What's wrong?" asked Peter.

"Poor leverage," she said, turning herself around so her legs were under the car. She found purchase for her feet, and then pushed upward. The car rose farther into the air than before, and settled into place. "Much better. Go ahead."

"Leg press is easier than bench press," Peter said, and returned to the bolts. "Ooof. They put these on so tight you can hardly get them off to change a tire."

"Let me see if I can help, young man. Shouldn't let you two do all the work."

"Great. I'm Peter, and Miss Muscles down there is Holly, my fiancée'."

"Fred. Glad you two came along. I'll push on this side, you take the other."

Between the two of them, there were able to get the bolts off and the spare on. Holly eased the car back to the ground.

"Thanks, you two. Fiancée', you said?"

"She said yes just last night."

"Congratulations. Be good to her, young man, I think she's a keeper."

"Good luck, Fred."

"You too."

Peter and Holly went back to their car, and watched Fred drive off to make sure their handiwork was effective. Holly said, "You drive. I've got to get back home and change. I tore my dress, and broke a heel under the car."

"Yeah, I've got to clean up too. If we hurry, we might be able to make the concert, even though we'll miss the opening act."

"It's worth a shot. Did Fred look up my dress?"

"I think he did, very quickly. When you turned around, I'm sure he was checking out your breasts. That's why I decided to distract him with helping me."

"To be fair, they are rather obvious in this outfit."

"Very true. What you did was quite impressive."

"What?"

"Well, that was a Lincoln Town Car. It's not exactly a Honda."

"What do you mean?"

"It's heavy, my dear."

"So?"

"And you bench-pressed it."

"For awhile."

"For about three minutes without stopping. Then you leg-pressed it for another twenty minutes."

"What good are the big muscles if they're just for show? You've got to be able to use them for something."

"You make me all hot and bothered, you know."

"Are you sure you want to go to the concert?"

"I've been waiting to hear this Mozart for over a year. We have all night to make love, it's Friday. And, you get so amorous after we've been out."

"Always the ulterior motive."

"And here we are. Change quickly, my dear."

"The red dress, do you think?"

"You really want to render me incapable of keeping my hands off you, don't you?"

"You need so little encouragement."

"A character flaw. I love my fiancée."

"I think you love saying the word."

"You see right through me as always. Let's go."

They soon returned to the car. They shared a lingering kiss, spiced by his hand going to her thigh, which she flexed in response. Peter's lips spread into a wide smile. "Oh, you keep teasing me." He turned, with some reluctance, and started the car. She played with his hair as he drove.

"I think it will be a good night," he said.

"It always is."

***************************************
***************************************

Chapter 9: Leaving the Gym

Alex returned soon with the clothes, and Sarah stepped out of the shower and dried off. Alex had a full set of clothes. "I bought these a bit big on me, to be my next outfit. Hopefully it will be big enough for you."

Sarah put on the clothes. Underwear was a bit snug, the bra was fine (her breasts were as big as Alex's!) the top and skirt a bit tight but not any more so than any number of girls would wear normally. Her own shoes still fit. "As long as I don't take a lot of deep breaths, I'll be fine."

"Don't take a lot of deep breaths, then."

"I can't thank you enough, really. For everything. And I will get you your clothes back."

"I will see you here tomorrow. I'm looking forward to working out together with you. Finally, someone who can keep up with me!"

Sarah smiled. "You bet."

Sarah drove straight to her favorite clothing store. They carried styles for the athletic figure, at reasonable prices. The problem now was that Sarah's figure was a lot more athletic than it had been before. She hoped Enrique could still find her something that fit.

Sarah stepped into the store and found Enrique at once. He saw her and immediately said, "Sarah! What are you doing in those clothes? They are much too tight for you! Terrible! You must let me fit you!"

Sarah smiled again. Enrique always fussed over his customers, but no one had a better eye.

"I see you have grown, my dear. Come back here, and Sherry will measure you."

"Grown" was an awfully dismissive statement for what had happened, but Enrique had a way of cutting to the chase. "Come, come, and don't dawdle."

Sherry rarely said anything; she just measured you from head to toe. After ten minutes, she said, "Looks like a 12E, boss," then moved on to another project.

"Very good, very good! I was thinking 14C or D, but Sherry is right, of course."

Sarah had no idea what these designations meant, but they had to do with the way the store sorted sizes. They were not the same as the sizes on the clothes, though. Enrique had already stepped over to a series of racks, and was pulling down outfits, looking them over, and either putting them over his arm or returning them to the rack.

"Over here, young lady. A figure like yours is always a challenge, and more so now that you have grown even more. I think we can help, though. Take this," he said, handing her a purple dress, then a shirt and pants set suitable for business, then a casual set perfect for a relaxed evening. A few minutes more, and she had another business set, and another casual set. "And of course, no woman should ever be without her little black dress," Enrique said, handing her one.

Sarah went to the changing rooms to try things on. She often wondered why she bothered, because everything Enrique chose always fit, and it always looked great. It was just fun to try things on in the store, she decided. She especially loved the purple dress. It had a swirling pattern, and she just loved the color. This man had such an eye for color. More than that, the clothes showed what should be shown, and left the rest to the imagination. The business stuff was properly reserved, and the evening wear revealed hints, not the whole secret.

She emerged from the dressing room. "Perfect as usual, Enrique. I'll take them all." Enrique kept an eye on her budget as well. She knew the store stocked $500 and more expensive outfits, but he never picked one of those for her.

"I have one more thing for you; I did not see it until you were already dressing." He produced a sweater, in the cable knit she liked. She loved a good heavy sweater for cool weather. Her eyes shone with her gratitude, but before she could say anything, he had swept away to another customer.

Sarah turned to the counter, where Enrique's wife Julia held forth. Calm and collected where Enrique was flamboyant, Julia was the business mind that balanced her husband's creativity. She kept the store in the black and the prices affordable. "Sarah, it's good to see you again. Oh! I can see why you are here. Your size has definitely changed. You must go see Dani for new undergarments."

Dani was in charge of "undergarments," which meant she got you bras that would fit. Dani measured her again, this time all around the upper body, chest, back, and shoulders. "It's a tough size, but we have a few in stock. Try this one on, and we'll work from there."

Sarah put the bra on in the dressing room and admired her reflection. She wasn't sure what she liked most, bigger biceps or bigger breasts. She had been sure it would be the muscles, but these breasts sure looked good. It was nice to fill out a bra. When she got back to Dani, there were two bras for dressing up, one more like she had for casual use, and even two sports bras for exercise. "I'm concerned about how much this will cost," Sarah said.

"You would pay just as much in a department store for something that wouldn't fit as well, and last only half as long," Dani said.

"OK," smiled Sarah. She returned to the counter.

"Here, Sarah, we have found you some around-the-house wear," said Julia. Some t-shirts and casual shorts, good for puttering around, were on the counter next to her other clothes. "These are no charge, because you will be spending enough money with us today."

"Thank you, Julia, I think I will be putting a strain on my credit card as it is," said
Sarah, but the total was less than she had thought. Perhaps Julia is giving me an extra discount, she thought. Buoyed with her new clothes, Sarah finally headed home. This had been a long and eventful day, she thought, and it had turned out nothing like she expected.

Sarah drove back to her house, a small two bedroom on a quiet side street. She gathered up her new clothes and her gym bag and unlocked her front door. She went in and quickly changed out of Alex's clothes into some of her new ones, then put Alex's into the washer with some of her own things. Realizing she was hungry, she headed to the refrigerator and pulled out some turkey for a sandwich. One turkey on rye with lettuce, tomato, and mustard later, she settled on the couch. Upon sitting, she suddenly felt fatigue wash over her. Getting up to go to bed seemed like too much trouble, so she curled up on her couch and was soon asleep.

She awoke the next morning, Saturday morning, about 7. She briefly wondered why she was on the couch, but urgency soon overrode confusion and she made for the bathroom. After taking care of the first priority, she looked in the mirror and did a double-take: so, the gym, the muscles, it wasn't a dream. She stood back and flexed both biceps, then smiled at the results. Oh, yes, yesterday was a good day. Time to see what today would bring.

Now, to prepare for the new day: some mineral water, half an hour on her stair climber, shower, and off to the gym. She wore her new exercise clothes: a cropped tank top, form-fitting, over a new sports bra, and exercise shorts like biking shorts. She felt quite proud of herself, and ready to test the abilities of these new muscles. Sarah hoped Alex was already at the gym.

She wasn't, but she arrived just five minutes later. "New clothes, I see. Very sharp. How did we spend our evening, then?"

"Shopping, then home. I fell asleep right away."

"Oh, that won't do. You must come out with me tonight. I can show you all the hot spots. Both of them." It was a small town.

"All right. First I want to see what these," she flexed, "can do."

"And so we shall. Want to try my routine?"

"Sounds good."

"It's torso and arms day for me. Is that all right?"

"I'm on the same schedule."

"Excellent. We can take turns lifting and spotting."

Alex led Sarah through a series of exercises designed to firm up what muscle was there, more than to add mass. Hanging leg raises, designed to strengthen the abs, with turning to work the obliques, first without added weight, then with weights attached to their legs. Other exercises followed, working the abs and the back. They moved to lat pulldowns, cable crosses, shoulder raises with dumbbells, dumbbells for the triceps and biceps (which drew a crowd, all trying to look inconspicuous) and finally a big finish with crunches. The whole series lasted two hours, and Sarah felt properly winded. Keeping up with Alex was a challenge.

Sweaty and puffing, Sarah paused in front of the mirror to flex for the first time. Alex stood beside her, about an inch shorter with medium blonde to Sarah's reddish brown hair. They smiled at each other, and then flexed double biceps together. It was no coincidence the gym got very quite at that point. They were both very impressive. Alex sported 22-inch biceps. Sarah came in at twenty-four. The rest of their physiques were similarly impressive, from top to bottom. Both women turned for a side chest pose, facing each other. The pectoral muscles popped up impressively, pushing forward the large breasts that lay over them. Both then turned back to the mirror and flexed abs. Six, then eight, then, maybe...ten distinct muscles appeared on both women. Both twisted, showing off obliques as well.

Sarah and Alex turned, laughing lightly, and high-fived each other. A smattering of applause broke out from appreciative onlookers. Others just shook their heads at the display.

They retired to the locker room for showers. Nothing feels better after getting good and sweaty than a cool shower, Sarah thought, with lots of soap and sweet-smelling shampoo. She felt like she lingered a long time, but noticed Alex turned off her water nearly simultaneously. Seemed they had a lot of similar habits. They began toweling off.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" asked Alex.

"Home, lunch, clean the house, probably some yard work. It's not a big yard, but I like to keep up with it. Dinner, stair climber, a little TV, and then bed."

"Sounds exciting. How about we go out for some dinner and a drink later, flex for some guys and see who makes eye contact?"

"I haven't been out to a bar in....over two years now."

"Does this coincide with the bad relationship?"

"I forgot I told you about that. Yeah, pretty much."

"Care to share?"

"Well, how about I tell you tonight, at dinner."

Alex smiled. "Two muscle girls out on the town tonight. This place will never be the same!"

"Where we going?"

"Write down your address for me, and I'll pick you up at six."

Sarah found a piece of paper and quickly scribbled. "Here you go."

"Hey, I just live about ten blocks from you. I had no idea. Where do you run?"

"Mostly on the stair climber."

"That explains why I haven't seen you out. I've got to run; this calls for a new outfit. Pick you up at six."

"Bye," said Sarah. She wondered what a night out with Alex, impulsive, gregarious, bubbly, uninhibited Alex, would be like. She'd wink at, and flex for, every man in the place, even the ones there with girlfriends. More than wink, maybe. Sarah tried hard to remember what a night out was like. It had been some time, and she had tried to forget. Now, she thought, maybe it was time to put that behind her.

**********************************************
**********************************************
Hummmm. I can't see to find Chapter 10

**********************************************
**********************************************

Chapter 11: the Apartment Building

Amanda woke up the next day just before noon. She felt refreshed, even energized. Rob was snoring softly, his arm draped over her. She eased herself out from under him, and made for the bathroom.

She looked at herself in the mirror, and was amazed at what she saw. She had a waist! She hadn't had a waistline since....well, best she could recall, she had never had an actual waistline. She weighed herself again: 177 pounds, the scale said. She looked at her breasts, and they looked bigger, but when she cupped them in her hands, they felt the same size. She realized that they were higher on her chest now, rather than drooping low; they looked bigger because they were closer to her eyes.

She didn't feel comfortable in the apartment without some clothes on, so she went back to retrieve hers. Even though I'm smaller now, Rob's still won't fit me, she thought. So, she picked up her bra and put it on. The cups fit, but the back strap seemed tight. She got it hooked on the outside hooks, a little snug but good enough. She put on her blouse as well, and it was loose everywhere but the chest, which fit as well as it had before, but differently. Her shape had obviously changed. She put on her jeans, but they were very loose. She had to keep pulling them up, as they slipped off her waist, and threatened to slip right over her hips.

The refrigerator seemed to hold only beer and soda. She found a clean glass in the cabinet and poured a glass of water from the tap and drank it. Then she found a granola bar that was slightly stale, but would serve for breakfast.

Amanda wasn't much of a TV watcher, so that didn't seem like an option, but the place could use a good cleaning. She picked up the pizza boxes and moved them by the door, to take out for the garbage later. She picked up Rob's girlie magazines and, not knowing exactly what to do with them, found a drawer to hide them. She found a broom in a closet and swept the bare surfaces, then found a rag and some cleaning spray to wipe down the tables and counters.

After that, she washed up the dishes in the sink. She needed a candle, she thought, to improve the scent of the place, which was heavy on beer and sweaty socks; maybe several candles. Now she looked around. It was just past 1:30, and Rob showed no signs of waking up yet. Wake him, or clean out the tub? Well, he had worked very hard for her pleasure overnight, so let him sleep. She found some rubber gloves and cleanser, and went after the bathtub. In fifteen minutes the surface was sparkling. She went back to the living area and sat on the couch to rest for a few minutes.

Rob emerged, yawning, and headed into the bathroom. He came back out, muttering, "that smells...clean." He headed back to the bedroom, disappeared inside, and then came back out right away. He looked at Amanda and blinked.

"You're still here!" he said with surprise.

"Sure I am, but I need to run out for a few minutes. Can I borrow your keys to get back in?"
"Sure, sure," he shuffled back to the bedroom and produced his keys. "This one is for the apartment," he said.

"I'll be right back," she said, kissing his forehead.

Rob reeled. He still wasn't sure the whole thing had happened, it seemed like a dream. I need a shower, and coffee, he thought. Shower first. He headed to the bathroom again and turned on the water. The running water woke him up, and he started scrubbing in earnest. He wanted to look good for this girl, the first girl to take a real interest in him since he could remember. Well, maybe Annie in the third grade, but mostly she wanted him to give her bubblegum.

Meanwhile, Amanda picked up the pizza boxes and took them down the steps to the dumpster outside. She then climbed the stairwell to her parents' apartment (on the 26th floor) and looked for some different clothes, ones that might be more comfortable and give her a better fit. The apartment was empty, with both her parents at work. She found some shorts with a drawstring that could be tightened a bit snugger, some older underwear that had been tight before, and a couple of t-shirts. She got some extra clothes too, just in case, left her parents a note, and headed back down to Rob's apartment, letting herself back in. Rob was just emerging from the shower.

"Hi! You're back!" he said, toweling off. "Want to go get some coffee, maybe a bite to eat?"

"Yes, I didn't find much in the fridge."

"Sorry about that. I usually get breakfast on the way to work, order lunch, order dinner. I, er, don't cook much."

"What if you get sick?"

"My mother brings me soup."

"Oh," she smiled. "Well, get dressed, and we'll head out."

"Be right back."

He put on jeans and a polo shirt, and added his sneakers.

"OK?"

"OK"

There was a coffee shop around the corner. They got a table and sat down. Rob ordered bacon and eggs with coffee. Amanda thought she should get something healthier, and ordered fruit and a bran muffin. Rob thought on this, but didn't say anything yet.

They chatted, and ate, then decided to take a walk. A few doors down Amanda pulled Rob into a clothing store, and picked up some new things she thought might fit better. Rob insisted on paying. They walked around the neighborhood for an hour, and then headed back to the apartment building. Before they did, Amanda pulled him into a grocery store for some more items. ("If you want me to stay around, I need something to drink besides beer and soda!") They got juice, milk, cereal, and some fruit. Back in the building, Rob headed for the elevator, Amanda for the stairs.

"Hey, where are you going?" said Rob.

"Stairs!"

"It's fifteen floors up!"

"I did it earlier!"

"I'm not ready to climb that many flights. I'll have to work my way up to it."

"Oh, all right," she said, joining him at the elevators. "I guess we have stuff to carry."

He marveled at her energy. He also thought that she wouldn't have gone for the stairs last week, but decided not to say that. If he was going to keep up with this girl, and he wanted to, he would definitely have to get more exercise. And eat better.
At the apartment, they put away the groceries, and Amanda went to change into some of her new clothes. She came out, and Rob whistled.

"Thank you," she blushed.

"You look very lovely. I knew you could carry off a t-shirt."

"The weight loss helps."

"No doubt. I must join a gym tomorrow, so I can start walking up fifteen flights of stairs."

There was a knock on the door. Rob looked confused. The only people who ever knocked on his door were food delivery people; his parents had a key. Amanda answered it. Samantha and Susan stood in the hall. They were wearing exercise outfits, and had obviously just come from the gym.

"Hey! You're still here, things must have gone well...wow, and I'll say they did! Look at you!" said Samantha.

Susan moved closer for a better look. "You look wonderful, Amanda. How do you feel?"

"I feel great! I've been running up and down the stairs all day!"

Rob appeared at the door. "Hi, girls!"

"Well, Rob, you look like you had a good night, too," said Samantha.

"Amanda is a wonderful girl. Thanks for introducing us."

"You're welcome. We just wanted Amanda to be happy. Well, we won't keep you; we're heading in for the evening. Just wanted to invite you to a party tomorrow night. I set the whole thing up, so I get to bring guests, which means you three," said Samantha.

"Oh! Where is it?" asked Amanda.

"A penthouse uptown. We'll meet downstairs in the lobby at 7, and then catch a cab. I have to be there a little early to check on the arrangements, make sure the bartenders and wait staff show up."

"Wonderful!" said Amanda.

"We'll be there," said Rob.

"Good night," said Susan.

"Night, Sami. Night, Suze," said Amanda. She closed the door.

"Yeah, night, Suze," said Samantha.

Susan walked over to their apartment, eyeing Samantha coldly. "As you well know, only Amanda is allowed to call me 'Suze.'"

Samantha unlocked the door. "How come I can't? I've known you longer, and we live together!"

"Because that is not my name."

"Then how come Amanda can call you that?" as she closed the door.

"Because Amanda is Amanda. It makes her feel better to use a familiar term to refer to me. It made her less nervous around me in the beginning when I was tutoring her, and she has kept doing it. I have let her."

"You're an old softie, is what you are," said Samantha as she walked to Susan, reached up to wrap her arms around Susan's shoulders, and kissed her passionately. Susan quickly returned the kiss. "Oh, girl, I've been thinking about you all day," said Samantha.

"I have been unable to keep my mind off you as well. You have always been so sexy, but this new look is...intoxicating."

"I was really working to concentrate on planning this party today. Had to work to keep my mind clear. A big deal like this is a real career maker."

"I had to have the secretary hold my calls. I could barely concentrate. I even cancelled my afternoon class." Susan was nuzzling Samantha's neck, even though she had to bend far down to do so. "Come back to the bedroom."

"I thought you'd never ask."

They were in Susan's bedroom, with functional furniture, tasteful decorations including several small paintings, and a humming air purifier. Susan paused to add a scent to the purifier: rose petals. A few minutes later, the whole room smelled of flowers. They swiftly undressed each other. They fell onto the bed, laughing.
The kisses were deep and passionate. Susan ran her fingers through Samantha's curly, medium brown air. Samantha caressed Susan's breasts, now C-cups. "I wasn't sure I would like these bigger. I so enjoyed them small and pert. But these are so much fun!"

"I'm glad you approve," Susan panted, between kissing Samantha's mouth and her hair.

"Flex for me, babe."

Susan complied, first rising to her knees. She began by squeezing her chest together to make her pectorals pop. Samantha squealed with delight. Then Susan flexed her abs, which separated into a whole line of individual muscles. Samantha felt eight, then ten, then twelve firm, solid abs.

"Mine don't do that," Samantha said, some disappointment in her voice.

"You have other advantages," Susan said.

Mollified, Samantha watched the show some more. Susan flexed and relaxed her biceps, which rose to about 14 inches at their greatest height. Samantha enthusiastically moved forward to caress them. "Oh, you are so gorgeous!" she exclaimed. She felt around Susan's back while she spread out her lats, then trailed her hands down to Susan's thighs to feel the flex.

Excited beyond endurance, Samantha jumped at Susan again, kissing her aggressively. She knocked them both over, and they began laughing again. They ended up with Susan face up on the bed and Samantha on top of her, on hands and knees. Susan reached up and began fondling Samantha's breasts, playfully at first, then more passionately. While Susan had grown from an A-cup to a C-cup, Samantha had gone from a C-cup to a very full D-cup, which looked huge on her compact five-foot-three body. The attention to her body began to give Samantha chills, making her nipples stand erect even more, which excited Susan even more.

Susan rose, pushing them into a sitting position with Samantha effectively on her lap, passionately kissing her breasts and licking her nipples.

"Now, you flex for me," Susan said after she came up for air. Stimulated, Samantha said nothing, but raised her arms and flexed her biceps. Her arms were thicker than Susan's, partly because of their six-inch height difference, partly because Samantha's peaked bigger at fifteen inches. They looked much bigger than Susan's, with their height difference. Susan caressed Samantha's arms, and then her hands dropped to her midsection, rubbing her stomach. Samantha didn't have the same abdominal muscle definition, but her body tapered pleasingly to a tiny waist, then widened to broad hips.

Susan moved her hands to Samantha's short, powerful legs. While the taller Susan was able to lift more weight with her upper body while they had been in the gym, Samantha had the stronger legs. Her powerful thighs and shapely calves only hinted at her strength. She flexed those thighs, and Susan responded with hands that seemed to want to hold all of her at once. Their passions overflowed.

When they finally broke their embrace, panting, Susan said, "Hey, I've got a trick for you." She got some distance between the two of them on the bed, so Samantha could see what she was doing. Susan set her arms to her sides, bracing them against the mattress, and squeezed to flex her pectorals. The flex made her breasts jump a few inches upward, then back down.

Samantha squealed like a little girl. "Do it again!" Susan did. "Now do it while I'm touching them!" Samantha felt Susan's breasts jump with the flex. "That's the best thing yet!" she said. "Do it some more!"

Susan did her pec dance, first with both breasts at once, then one at a time.

Samantha seemed transfixed, like she had never seen anything so fascinating. She watched, then felt as Susan flexed again and again.
After a few minutes Susan stopped due to fatigue. Samantha said, "Can you teach me that?"

Susan said, "Concentrate on the muscles in your chest, and squeeze to flex them. It'll take a little practice to isolate the right ones, and then you just alternate the flex."

Samantha thought through the process in her head, and tested it on her muscles. She had a little more trouble, partly because her breasts were heavier than Susan's. Soon, though, she was popping her own pecs to Susan's delight. Susan also watched with fascination, and then had to feel the process with her hands.

Their sexual play lasted well into the night, and they fell asleep in each other's arms on Susan's bed. Just before falling asleep, Samantha thought she had never seen Susan so excited, so passionate. She had even used contractions.

****************************************
****************************************

Average:
3.833335
Your rating: None Average: 3.8 (6 votes)
Side Effects Chapter 12
‹ Side Effects Chapter 10 up Side Effects Chapter 12 ›
novel
general
average height
above average female strength
muscular
flexing/displays of muscles
girlfriend
muscle worship
science transformation
voluntary
graphic descriptions of sexual activity

[WilfredDDeVoe]

Here's chapter 10:

Chapters 10, 12, 16, 14 15 and 16 :

the Suburbs

Vicki went back in the house, showered, and puttered around for a while, cleaning this, picking up that. She bided her time until just before 12:30, and then went two doors down for lunch with Roger. The lunch was pleasant enough, and the conversation light, but her heart wasn't in it. Good chicken salad can only carry a lunch date so far. When she had been there long enough to feel like it was polite to leave, she excused herself and returned home. Once in the house, she called Yvonne.

"Hi, sweetie, how are you?"

"Can you come and pick me up?"

"Of course I can. I'll be there in ten....no, make that fifteen minutes. See you then."

"Wait...is it all right if I spend the night?"

"Sure, the guest bedroom is all yours."

"Thanks."

Vicki packed a bag, and waited for Yvonne to arrive. She didn't have to wait long. When Yvonne pulled up, her daughter Caitlin got out of the front seat and moved to the back to make room for Vicki. Vicki handed Caitlin her bag and got in the passenger seat.

"Hi, Vick."

"Hi, Cait." Vicki often served as older sister for the teen, an only child.

"In case you're wondering why we're going the opposite direction of our house, we are accompanying Caitlin to her youth group meeting. Today it's at the soup kitchen," said Yvonne.

"We go there once a month," said Caitlin.

"And my best friend thought I should see some people worse off than me, so to stop my wallowing in self-pity."

"It had crossed my mind. Plus, it's good soup."

"You're driving."

"So I am," said Yvonne. "Have you given thought to buying a car?"

"I haven't driven in so long, I don't know if I remember how. Harry always drives (drove?) when it's the two of us. Anywhere else I go in a car, you drive. Otherwise, I run."

"Considering how far you can run, that would normally be enough. At least until you need groceries."

"I may have to rely on the kindness of friends, and the occasional stranger."

"Or call a cab."

"There is that."

"So, is Harry gone?" Caitlin asked with all the bluntness of a 14-year old.

"I don't know, Cait. He has been since yesterday, and I haven't heard from him. I don't know what will happen."

"I don't like him much. He was never very nice to me."

Vicki smiled. "Maybe I should listen to you more, Cait."

By this time, they had arrived at the soup kitchen. Some teenagers were already present, running errands and setting tables. The woman in charge, a stout lady named Paula, came over.

"Hi, Cait. Hi, Yvonne. Who's this?"

"Paula, this is our friend Vicki. She's come to help out today."

"The more the merrier. Cait, you make some sandwiches. Ladies, we need vegetables chopped."

Yvonne and Vicki moved to a table with a pile of food, and sharp knives. "Potatoes or onions?" asked Yvonne.

"Onions," replied Vicki. She picked that because, in case she started to cry again, she could blame the chopping.

They set to work, and for the next hour everyone was busy with preparations. By then, people had started arriving, and the soup was simmering. It smelled good, and Vicki started getting hungry. She watched the people come into the large hall.

Drunks or addicts, a lot of them, but so many were families. There were people mumbling to themselves, and others that just looked creepy, but still others that looked like they could have been neighbors. Maybe they had been, at one time, but she had just never known them. Vicki was depressed, upset, and offended that so many people could be in such need, all at the same time. The kids served the patrons first, and then the workers settled down with their bowls. Yvonne was right: it was good soup.

Cleanup didn't take long, and then they were on their way back to Yvonne's house. Yvonne owned a small brick home, in a nice neighborhood. It was only about two miles from Vicki's, and when Vicki chose to run the streets instead of the running track she often came this way. When they got in, Vicki went up to the guest room, changed into running clothes, and told her hosts, "I'm going out to run."

"It'll be dark soon, sweetie. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I've got nervous energy to work off. Got to get moving."

"Lord knows I can't stop you when you set your mind. Be careful, and don't be out long."

Vicki headed out to the street and set a rapid pace. She ran and ran. On a Sunday evening in a residential neighborhood, traffic was light, and she had little trouble. She ran on, feeling the churning of the muscles. Her new leg muscles seemed to carry her so swiftly, it was like flying. She ran faster and faster. Before she realized where she was headed, she was on her home street.

Coming to the house, she noticed a light was on inside in the kitchen, but the car was not there. She was sure all the lights were out when she left. Curious, she let herself in with the hidden spare key. On the kitchen counter, where they had so often prepared dinner, Harry had left a note.

"Dear Vicki. Came and picked up some clothes. Waited until you had left with Yvonne. Wasn't ready to talk to you. Going to spend the week at my sister's. I will call when I'm ready to talk. Not sure when that will be. Harry."

Hot, angry tears filled Vicki's eyes. She pounded the counter, screamed at the top of her lungs. For several minutes she sobbed uncontrollably. He didn't even have the courage to face her! How dare he! Maybe he was afraid she would take these muscles and beat him up! The nervous energy she had been trying to run off had doubled, tripled, in her rage and anger. Unsure what to do, she dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups. She did dozens of them, not bothering to count. When that wasn't enough, she started doing sit-ups, dozens and dozens. How long she did this, she had no idea. It began to get very dark. She sobbed some more, then got up and ran out of the house. She did manage to lock the door behind her.

Again, she was running blind, not knowing where she was going, just running. It was pitch dark by now, a moonless night. As she was running, a man suddenly stepped in front of her. He held a knife out in front of him.

"All right, lady, stop right there and give me your valuables. Watch, car keys, whatever you've got with you."

"What! You dare! You dare to threaten me! How could you! Get out of my way!"

She swung her fist wildly, a crazy roundhouse punch that caught him full on the side of the face. The man dropped like a stone, like he had been shot.

Immediately she stopped, shocked at what she had done and worried she had just killed a man. A minute later, he began to moan. "Oh, my head! Lady, what did you hit me with, a tire iron?"

Relieved but still angry and afraid, she resumed running. This time she knew where she was going: she less than half a mile from Yvonne's house. She stumbled up the steps and knocked on the door.

"Hi, what took so...Vicki! What's the matter? You're shaking like a leaf!" Yvonne quickly gathered her in and took her inside. "Sit down. Tell me what happened."

Vicki sat between Yvonne and Caitlin on the couch. Each held one of her hands as she told the whole story of what had happened since she left the house: the aimless running, the note from Harry, the mugging, the run back. Caitlin squealed with fear.

Yvonne went to call the police and report the attempted mugging, and the man possibly in need of medical attention. She came back to the couch and cradled Vicki in her arms. Caitlin laid her head on Vicki's shoulder on the other side, and the three of them sat together quietly for a long time.

A while later the phone rang. The police had found the man, who had some bruises but no broken bones. Did they want to file charges? Yvonne told them they would file a formal report in the morning.

"And now, sweetie, you need a shower, and a bed. Are you sleeping with me or with Caitlin tonight?"

"Yvonne, I can sleep in the guest room."

"After what you've been through, you have no business sleeping alone in an unfamiliar house, or any other house for that matter. If you want, we can all three crowd onto my bed, it's a queen size."

Vicki smiled weakly. "I would be glad of the company. Three for one?"

"Caitlin, take Vicki upstairs and get her into the shower, then get my bed ready for three. I will close up shop down here and join you shortly."

Caitlin followed Vicki up the stairs. "Cait, are you sure you don't mind?"

"Mind what, having a slumber party? Mom and I climb into each other's beds all the time. Sometimes you want to stretch out by yourself, but sometimes you want company."

"You're a great little sister."

"And you're a great big sister. I'll get you a towel."

Vicki got into the shower. Warm water running over her body felt good. Cait slipped in and put a towel over the shower rod, then slipped back out. Vicki hadn't realized how grimy and sweaty she had gotten. Then again, she'd never thrown a punch before, either.

She turned off the water, and wrapped the towel around her to dry off. She had forgotten to bring clothes in, so she walked into Yvonne's room with only the towel, and then dropped it to get dressed. Cait looked at her naked body and gasped.

"Vick! Look at you!"

"What?"

"When did you get all those muscles?"

Vicki looked down at herself. The muscles she had been noticing before had seemed to almost double in size. Her breasts stood out so far, on the very solid-looking pectorals beneath them, she wondered for a minute who had put them there. She looked at her arm, raised it, and then squeezed to raise a bicep. It jumped up so fast and so high, she gasped in spite of herself. This was a 15-inch arm, instead of the 13 inches she had seen that morning. Her abs were rock-hard, even without flexing. She counted eight separate ridges without even attempting to flex and bring them out. Most amazing of all were her legs. Every single muscle group was separated and defined. The quadriceps bulged out from her thighs fully around her leg, all four heads of the muscle visible. Her hamstrings were equally full and defined; her calves stood out with a solid diamond shape on both legs.

Yvonne walked in. "Ho-ly Mother of God. I see now how you knocked a guy out with one punch. When did this happen?"

"Apparently just tonight. I wasn't nearly this big this morning. Or this afternoon, for that matter."

"I should say not. You look like you just came from a bodybuilding contest. That you won."

Caitlin, wide-eyed, had slowly walked over to Vicki. She warily touched Vicki's arms, and her abs. "Vick, can you teach me how to get muscles like this?"

"I'm not sure I know how, Cait. It's a surprise to me. Before things went crazy tonight, I was just exercising as usual."

"Sweetie, do the clothes you brought even fit anymore?"

"Probably not. I just brought a long t-shirt to sleep in."

Yvonne opened a drawer. "Since I am older than you, and have an *ahem* more mature body, perhaps I can help." She pulled out a nightshirt, which Vicki put on. The sleeves were a bit snug. Rather than risk bursting a seam, Yvonne pulled out a sleeveless night dress. This seemed to work better, so the matter was settled. A minute later, all three were in Yvonne's bed.

When Yvonne turned out the light, the girl talk started in earnest. Vicki talked of her marriage to Roger, of her miscarriage, of the problems of the last week. Yvonne told stories of her own marriage and divorce. Caitlin mostly listened, absorbing the lessons of older women, the way girls have for thousands of years. They talked long into the night before falling asleep one by one. All three snuggled together, but Vicki did notice that Caitlin seemed to keep feeling her muscles. Kids are naturally curious, she thought; can't blame Cait, since I'm curious about these muscles too.

*****************************************
*****************************************

Chapter 12: the Lab

"So, when do you want to get married?"

Holly thought. "It's April now. Probably June. Do you think we could put this together in a couple of months?"

"If we keep it small," Peter answered.

"Family and friends, I was thinking. Maybe a hundred people."

"That should be about right. Have you thought about the wedding party?"

'I was thinking my sister as maid of honor. My dad will give me away, of course. Who are you thinking for best man?"

"Probably Brian."

"Your college roommate?"

"Yeah. He had to put up with us quite a lot, back in the day."

"He sure did. The first time we had sex, he was in the next room. I never asked him how he felt about that."

"Jealous."

"He was always nice to me, though."

"He liked you. If we had broken up, he would have been first in line to ask you out."

"I never knew he thought of me that way."

"You have trouble with the concept that even when your weight was up, you were still beautiful."

"When you found me, I was loved. That was enough."

There was a knock at the door. They looked at each other quizzically, and Holly rose to answer it.

"Why, Mr. Ralston! What brings you to our door on a Saturday morning?"

"I visit my best employees today in an official capacity, but I believe you will find my news interesting. You know we are in the process of taking Mannitol international."

"Yes, of course. We're in several countries already."

"Canada and Mexico, and a few other small countries. We are looking to go worldwide. Much of the European Union acts together in pharmaceutical matters, and several other countries in Africa and Asia are processing our applications as well. Naturally, this is a medication that many men will want, and pay to get."

"I hear that Internet sales are booming, and fraud is rampant."

"Indeed. We hope to head some of that off with the move to international. In fact, we would like you, both of you, to go to the meeting we have set up with several officials from different nations, as company representatives to answer technical questions. Who better than the drug's main developer, and its head product tester?"

"So, where is the meeting?" asked Peter.

"Paris."

"Paris, as in France?"

"Yes, that Paris."

"I should warn you that neither of us speaks French."

"I am aware of that. The meeting will be led by our corporate head in Europe, Pierre duCard, and will be conducted in English. Those there who do not speak English will have translators."

"OK, I'm sold," said Peter. "When do we leave?"

"The plane departs tomorrow morning at ten. The meeting is scheduled for three days, but the company has booked you a week's lodging at a fine hotel. I have stayed there myself, and can recommend it."

"That's very generous, sir."

"Miss Watson, I can do nothing less for my most valuable employees."

"I've never travelled overseas. Do you have any advice?"

"Pack carefully, and take both business and casual clothes. Any questions can go through the office upstairs. Here are your tickets and lots of information for the trip."

"Thank you, sir."

"We want the decision makers to see we are serious, so we are sending you for star power. Monsieur duCard should be able to handle most of the actual negotiating, but there may be some technical questions, and no one knows Mannitol better than you two."

"Thank you, sir."

"I will leave you to get ready. Best of luck."

"'No one knows Mannitol better than you two.' Yeah, you can tell that by looking at us."

"Oh, stop. We've got to pack, and we've got a bunch of phone calls to make."

"All right, all right."

Phone calls, packing, a very short night of sleep, and 24 hours later they were on a plane flying across the Atlantic. Holly couldn't believe that a small-town girl was going to the big time, the City of Lights. This was more than she had ever dreamed. She grasped Peter's hand. "Isn't this great!"

"Wow, look at the clouds below us. I wonder how high we're flying?"

She sighed. Peter's love of the technical was what made him a good chemist, but it didn't always make for interesting conversation.

A driver met them at the airport and drove them to the hotel. Holly couldn't get enough of looking at the city through the car's windows; everything looked so beautiful. She was even more excited about the hotel, which was fabulous. At the hotel, Pierre duCard met them, and rode the elevator with them to their room.

"Mademoiselle, you are stunning. What an exceptional physique you have!"

"Thank you, Monsieur. You are very kind."

"Not at all. Monsieur Woodruff, it is good to meet you. How do you like Paris?"

"It's a fascinating city. I hope we get a chance to see more of it."

"I can set you up with a tour, a good one, not just the tourist traps. We should have such time in your schedule."

"We are here for a week. I believe the meetings are for three days?"

"They might go longer, but it is not likely."

"Good. What should we know about the meetings?"

"Representatives from the European Union will be there, and some of those countries will also send their own representatives. These we do not need to worry about, this is merely formalities being observed. They may ask a few technical questions, but mostly they will just be curious. The decision is 95% made."

"We just have to not blow it."

"I believe it is as you say. Now, of more interest is that there are also representatives coming from other countries. We already had scheduled people from South Africa, Egypt, and China. We don't expect the Chinese to let us into their market, but the possibility is too enticing to pass up. Since it has been learned that you, Mademoiselle Watson, would be here, we have had more contacts. Now we have representatives from Russia, Vietnam, Zaire, Iran, and Saudi Arabia scheduled to attend."

"They are coming because I am here?"

"We believe so. We are unsure if any of them are truly interested in letting Mannitol into their markets, if they just want to meet you and possibly woo you as a chemist, or if they wish to gaze upon your rumored beauty."

"And check out my 30-inch biceps."

"That possibility has also been considered."

"A bunch of foreigners ogling my betrothed; I suppose I should be jealous," said Peter.

"Did you say you are engaged?"

"Yes, just for a couple of days now. We are planning a June wedding."

"How wonderful! Please accept my congratulations. Perhaps you will return to Paris for your honeymoon? It is known as the most romantic city in the world."

"You know, I was thinking about that myself."

"Really? A European honeymoon?"

"It's a thought."

"As you have no doubt noticed, with the time zone change it is now quite dark here. The hour is late, though you are probably not yet tired. To allow for jet lag, our meeting is at 1 PM local time."

"Thank you, though I am tired. This has happened so fast, we didn't get much sleep last night."

"Good. I will call for you at 10, take you for brunch, and then we shall go to the meeting."

"Thank you, monsieur."

"Good night."

It was nearly midnight local time when they had unpacked. Peter asked, "Do you want to just go to sleep, or would you like a little 'activity' first?"

"Oh, we have to make love at least once on our first night in the most romantic city in the world."

"I couldn't agree more."

Their lovemaking was gentle and relaxed rather than energetic, since both were tired from travelling. They soon settled down into a spooned position, and fell asleep.
The next day dawned bright and beautiful, a marvelous spring morning in Paris. They made themselves presentable, and went to the lobby. Soon duCard met them there.

"Do you want to have brunch here at the hotel?"

"Yes, we want to change before the meeting. We thought wearing our lab coats would appear more professional, more in keeping with our role."

"An excellent choice. The café here at the hotel is quite excellent, as well."

After a wonderful meal, where Peter ate too many croissants, they went up to the room to change and came back down looking as if they had come fresh from the lab. That, of course, was exactly the look they were going for.

The meetings themselves proceeded with few surprises. The first day entailed a lot of introductions, and a lot of talking between the political types. The second day included some technical questions for the resident experts, mostly about dosing requirements, long-term blood levels, toxicity, and other questions that feel squarely into Peter's specialty. He fielded question after question with his usual efficiency and confidence, and even dialed back the humor to allow for the language barrier.

It was the third day where things turned interesting. For the first time, Holly was getting a large share of the questions, which dealt with how the drug was developed and the process used. She was answering with her usual blend of technical know-how and depth of knowledge, and Peter once again found himself impressed by her adept mind. He wondered if anyone else in the room appreciated this woman's abilities. Everything was going well, until the Saudi representative started asking questions.

"Miss Watson, what are you really trying to accomplish with this Mannitol?" he asked. The Saudi was Prince Fayed, a member of the royal family, not that there was any shortage of those in the world.

"It has proven to be quite profitable," Holly said. "My employers are very happy."

"No doubt," said the Prince. "But I think you had another motive, one that is as apparent as, perhaps, the nose on your face?"

"I doubt it is my nose you are referring to, your Highness," Holly parried.

"Indeed. I think it is quite obvious that you seek to use this Mannitol to promote women to a new place in society, a place they have not earned and do not deserve."

"As opposed to someone who comes to his office chiefly by heredity, I assume?"

"You presume much, woman. I charge that you are trying to upset the natural order of things, by purposely designing a drug that overwhelms men, rendering them helpless creatures of their own desires, while women inflate themselves to ridiculous proportions."

Peter rose at the insult, and leaned over the table toward the prince in a threatening posture. Holly, beside him, put a hand on his shoulder and gently urged him back into his seat.

"The drug is what it is. It increases the size of a man's penis, as it was designed. As a side effect, if the man then has sex with a woman, the drug is metabolized in such a way that it becomes possible or the woman to build muscle mass at an accelerated rate. During development, it was believed that this effect would be small. It has instead been more powerful than anyone on the team, or I, foresaw. However, to build the muscle mass, the woman must participate in strenuous exercise. If she does not, she should enjoy increased health benefits, but not large muscle growth. If the man and woman have regular sex, the effect also 'washes' back to the man, making it possible for him to add muscle mass as well. This seems only to work if the same partners participate, though research in this area is incomplete. There is and was no insidious purpose to this outcome."

"I do not believe you."

"That is your choice. It is the truth."

"Do you deny the evidence we can all see?"

"I do not deny that I have built quite a bit of muscle mass. This was a personal decision. I have worked hard to do it, though I admit it would not have been possible without the effect of the Mannitol."

"Perhaps this is acceptable in decadent America, but it will never be allowed in my country."

"That is also your choice."

The prince stormed out, leaving a quiet in the meeting. The silence seemed borne by embarrassment. Finally, duCard asked, "Are there any other questions?"

The representative from China spoke for the first time all week. "Miss Watson, I apologize for the inexcusable behavior of the Saudi representative. He does not speak for my country."

"Thank you, sir; I believe he speaks for none but himself."

"I wonder, though, if you would favor us with a better look at this subject of 'muscle mass?'"

"Ah, you would like me to remove my jacket."

"If you wouldn't mind."

Holly smiled, and peeled back her lab coat. She had expected this would come up at some point, and had been careful to leave the covering on to make the reveal more dramatic. It had the desired effect. There was much gawking and whispering around the room as Holly's gigantically muscled arms were uncovered. She lightly flexed them from her seat to enhance the effect. The whispering increased.

"Young woman, will this happen to all the women in our country if we approve your drug?"

"Only if they all have a lot of sex, and lift lots of weights."

"Lots of weights. Lots and lots of weights," added Peter.

"This shows the results of 18 months of heavy lifting, and lots of cooperation from my colleague here."

"He helps you with the weights?"

"No, the sex."

"I see."

"I believe you do."

"Gentlemen, is there anything else?" asked duCard. But there wasn't, because they had all now seen what they had come to see. Holly doubted if she had changed any minds. She waited while duCard worked the room as the people filed out the door.

"Well, how did it go?" Peter asked duCard when the room had cleared.

"About as expected. We will shortly be in the EU, South Africa, and Russia. Also China is considering, which is a surprise. I think you made an impression on the delegate. Everyone else, as expected, is reluctant. They are afraid of the effect on women, demonstrated by you. The black market will no doubt put Mannitol in those countries."

"Perhaps I should not have come."

"It would have been worse if you had not. The delegates would have thought we were hiding you, and more would have thought what Prince Fayed said. As it was, you met the accusations head-on. I was quite proud of how you handled yourself."

"You knew he would attack me like that?"

"By no means. I thought he might try to cause a scene, but did not expect him to attack you so directly. I expected him to do something to get thrown out the first day. That he bided his time makes me suspicious. It is unlike him."

"I plan on putting him out of my mind, and enjoying the rest of our week in Paris."

"Once again you speak with wisdom that belies your youth. If you need anything, call me, and I will drop everything to put myself at your disposal."

"You are too kind, monsieur."

"One does what one must for a beautiful lady."

"That's my motto," said Peter.

"All right, Romeo, let's head back to the hotel and change."

They did, but at the hotel Holly had a message from Prince Fayed, asking her to come to his room. Peter looked pensive.

"There's something fishy here. What more could he say?"

"Maybe he wants to apologize."

"Much as I hate to rain on Miss Mary Sunshine, I doubt it very much."

"I'm curious. I'm going."

"Then I'm coming with you. I don't trust that guy, and I like him even less."

"Suit yourself."

They took the stairs (Holly always takes the stairs, Peter thought) to the penthouse, where the prince was staying. The door was locked, so they had to go back down one floor then up in the elevator.

The doors parted. "Ah, so you have come," said the Prince. "And you have brought your pet."

"My fiancée," said Holly.

"You would marry this?" he sneered at Peter.

"In a minute."

"You disgust me."

"You don't know what real sex is, or love, Fayed."

"How dare you!"

"I'll dare a lot more than that if you don't keep a civil tongue."

"Guards! Hold them!" Four burly men moved forward, two holding Peter's arms, two grabbing Holly's. They held the prisoner's arms upright, bent in V-shapes, to prevent them from gaining leverage. "Now you will pay for your insult, infidel!" The prince slapped Peter across the face.

Anger flashed across Holly's face. She twisted her wrists to grab some cloth in the shirts of the two men holding her, and with a sudden effort that flexed her biceps, free of the lab coat that was now on the floor, she swung the two men in front of her, sweeping them across the floor and banging their heads together with a heavy crack, which turned to a thud as they dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Next, she grabbed one of the men holding Peter, the one closest to her, and lifted him into the air as if he weighed nothing. She threw him across the room and he slammed into the wall. He slid down the wall and dropped to the floor, motionless.

The second man dropped Peter's arm and went for a gun. Peter grabbed his arm and pinned it to the table next to them, and Holly pulled the gun from his grip. She took the gun in her two hands and pushed until she heard a snap. She dropped the weapon, now bent at an odd angle and useless.

Peter released the hapless gunman, who skittered from the room. Peter grabbed the Prince by the shirt. "Now that your playmates are out of the way, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"You let a woman fight your battles for you?"

"She does it so well."

Fayed spit in Peter's face. Peter drew back his fist and slammed it into Fayed's nose. Fayed dropped to the floor, unconscious.

"Good punch," said Holly.

"Thanks. It didn't hurt as much as I thought."

"Probably the adrenaline."

"Maybe. I should have let you hit him; it would have been more humiliating for him."

"You did fine. I like you defending my honor."

"Just playing Robin to your Batman."

"I thought I was Wonder Woman?"

"More like She-Hulk, but not green."

"I'd rather be Wonder Woman."

"As far as I'm concerned, you can be whomever you want."

They heard a voice, a female voice, across the room. "Are you Miss Holly Watson?"

"Yes, and who are you?"

"I am Shohreh, the Prince's wife. Well, one of the Prince's wives."

"Do you want to register a complaint? That department is closed," said Peter.

"Actually, I wished to thank you. The Prince has earned many such insults. It is time someone delivered one to him."

"Believe me, the pleasure was ours. Is there something I can do for you? Well, something else?"

"You are the woman who has invented the drug Mannitol?"

"Yes."

"And it has had the effect on you I see before me?"

"It has no effect if taken by a woman. It must be taken by a man, and if he has sex with a woman, then it can help her build muscle. To build the muscle, though, you must exercise."

"I understand. The Prince's harem has ten wives, and twenty concubines. Would it be effective on all of us?"

"It depends on how often he had intercourse with each of you, and how much you exercised, but there is no theoretical limit to how many women could be affected."

"Could we all become as strong as you?"

"Doubtful, but not impossible. People seem to forget that I have worked very hard to get this way. Lots of women have had sex with men taking Mannitol, and it has had minimal effect on them. There are a number of factors."

"You have no idea what effect this could have on Saudi society, a male-dominated enclave."

"I sensed this was what the Prince was really worried about. He felt threatened."

"That is putting it mildly. He fears you more than any other on Earth. He has said as much, though it is clothed in racism."

"So I heard."

"How can I get this drug?"

Holly reached into the pocket of her lab coat and brought out a pill bottle. "This has 100 pills in it. The dosage is two pills per day for a week, then one a day for another week, then two a week for maintenance. The male penis will grow, and in about two weeks the muscle-building effect for his female sex partners will be active."

"Not male sex partners?"

"The drug does not work that way."

"I understand, and I will remember. Can I get more?"

"Here is my business card. On the back I am writing my personal cell phone number. If you need more, contact me with directions on where to send it. I will get it to you."

"You have my deepest thanks."

"You are taking a big chance, Shohreh. Be careful."

"I will be very careful, Miss Holly. This is a dangerous business. However, I have come to believe it is the only chance I have to effect change in my country."

"Good luck."

"I will need it."

Holly and Peter exited. When they were back on the elevator, Peter said, "That's one brave woman."

"Much braver than I. She's trying the change a whole culture, and taking her life in her hands to do it."

"And you're breaking at least a dozen laws to help her."

"Laws of man, yes. Laws of morality, I don't think so."

"I might argue the point."

"And I might agree, but not right now. Right now, I am content with my actions."

"What do we do about the Prince?"

"We go to the American consulate and lodge a complaint. The wheels of justice grind slowly, but hopefully he will be thrown out of the country forthwith. The French government won't take kindly to a foreign national brandishing a firearm in one of their hotels, at another visitor to their country. I'll call duCard and tell him what's up, so he can help us out."

"He certainly has no love lost for the Prince."

"I suspect that's common. The French will probably jump at any excuse to send him out of the country."

"Then perhaps we can enjoy a few days in Paris."

"I hope so. You know, I really would like to come back in June."

"A European honeymoon is growing on me."

"Later, I plan on something else growing," Holly said, touching his crotch.

"Oh, baby. Let's change and take care of more mundane business first."

"Spoilsport."

"Not for long."

*****************************************
*****************************************

Chapter 13: Out of the Gym

After her afternoon chores, Sarah showered, and then decided to put on her new purple dress for the night out. She loved the color, and the way it contoured to her new curves. It came down to a little above the knee, showing just a little of her thigh, but all of her muscular calves. It was cut low to show some cleavage, but covered as much as it revealed. There was a bit of a sleeve, hiding most of her bicep, but it was loose so that she could reveal more if the mood struck. This was a great dress, she decided.

Alex arrived a bit after 6. When Sarah answered her knock, Alex started in right away. "That is one terrific dress, you hot chick! You are ready to catch a man tonight. I love your yard, and this is such a great house! I just have a little, unspecial apartment."

"So, you never did tell me. Where are we going?"

"Bob's Tavern. Best food in town, and excellent libations."

Sarah's stomach growled. Both women laughed. "I guess you approve," said Alex.

"Yes, I do." Bob's did have the best food in town, and any kind you wanted: steak, seafood, Italian, all prepared fresh.

"Then let's go, I'm famished, and ready to look over the merchandise." Alex was wearing a sleeveless denim shirt and jeans, plus cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. It was quite obviously a set. Sarah smiled.

Bob's was just a few minutes away, and busy as usual. Alex told the greeter that they would be fine seated at the bar, and Sarah knew why. The restaurant was quite large, with two big seating areas separated by a raised bar between them. From the bar, you could see into either area, thus getting the best view of whoever else was in the establishment. It was the best place to people-watch, or in Alex's case, man-watch.

"A drink first. Frozen margarita, and leave the pitcher."

"I'd like some white wine."

"You aren't drinking with me?"

"I don't like mixing salt with alcohol."

"Suit yourself. Oh, and some chips and salsa, please."

Sarah sampled the appetizer. The chips were warm, the salsa freshly made. Sarah ate lightly, Alex with more gusto. She was soon into her second margarita.

"Oh, there's a nice choice tonight, but a lot of them are with someone. Might be tough to find two together and split them between us. We'd better order dinner."

Sarah liked that idea, and went with her favorite, the seven-ounce sirloin. Alex kept up her Mexican theme and ordered chicken enchiladas. She also asked for a glass of water. "This salt will catch up to me soon."

"Told you."

"You are obviously the smarter of us. So, you gonna tell me about this bad relationship?"

"Long story short, my boyfriend during college and for a short time after didn't exactly rape me, but he pressured me into sex. I finally wised up, moved back here, got a decent job, bought a house, and joined a gym. I've been here a little more than two years now, this go-round."

"I take it that the building of muscle became a defense mechanism."

"I suppose. I was always an athlete, a bunch of sports in high school, swimmer in college. I had some muscle mass to start. But, my body was kind of blocky, I never had a real small waist, and I didn't feel especially beautiful. I wasn't much of a girly-girl anyway."

"I think you're gorgeous."

"Sure, now."

"No, before too. You have a nice shape to your face, lovely eyes, great cheekbones. You're a beautiful woman, Sarah."

"I never felt beautiful."

"That's part of the reason some stupid guy was able to pressure you to have sex. Not that it makes him any less guilty. Oh, and don't look now, but that same guy has passed by us three times already. I'm waiting for him to stop and say something."

Sarah marveled at Alex's ability to have a conversation and still be completely aware of her surroundings. She saw Alex flash a smile and pop a bicep flex, and zeroed in on the object of her attentions. He was certainly cute, sandy blonde hair, about six feet tall, nice build. "Now, if he doesn't come over in the next five minutes, he's not coming," Alex said.

"Maybe he's going to get his friend."

"We can hope."

Their dinners arrived, and they began eating. Sarah was very happy with her steak, juicy and tender. Alex looked very happy with her enchiladas: she ate the way she did everything, with great enthusiasm. Sarah hoped some of Alex's love for life would rub off.

They were about halfway into their meals when Mr. Sandy Blonde returned. "Good evening, ladies. Alone tonight?"

"Well, we're two girls out on the town, if that's what you mean. I'm Alex, she's Sarah."

"Jamie. I would have been here earlier, but I was with my sisters. I had to think up an excuse."

"We don't want to break up a family gathering," said Sarah.

"We come here every weekend. They can do without me for awhile."

"We have another problem. There are two of us and one of you."

"Is that a problem?"

"I'm willing to bet that either of us would be all the woman you could handle," Alex said, popping her bicep again.

"Let me make a call," said Jamie, smiling.

Alex leaned over to Sarah. "Dibs on this one." Sarah laughed in spite of her nervousness.

"No, really, get down here. You'll thank me later." Jamie closed his phone. "He's coming."

"All right, handsome, I get first shot at the showcase. Tell me about yourself."

Sarah turned her attention back to her dinner while Alex chatted up Jamie. Steve had really gotten into her head during college, and she still had trouble connecting with men. Her relationship with her father had never been really deep. A true conversation with a man was a daunting prospect.

About half an hour later, the food was eaten, Sarah was on her second glass of wine, and Alex looked ready to leave with Jamie. Sarah knew the only reason Alex was still there was because Sarah was still there and dateless. She appreciated the company, but if Alex had left Sarah would have been quickly out the door. At that point, Jamie stood up and said, "Hey, Rowan, over here!"

Sarah turned and saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was a six-foot-four, light-skinned black man, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. Sarah thought he must have come directly from a modeling shoot, probably where he was doing something incredibly manly. Alex leaned over and whispered, "I see I should have waited for the second showcase. Jackpot!"

Jaime made introductions. "Rowan, this is Alex, and this is...."

"Sarah," she pronounced her name dreamily.

"Good evening, ladies," rumbled Rowan in a low voice. Sarah swooned, and was reminded of the guy who'd played Worf on a couple of Star Trek shows. She loved that voice.

The bartender arrived. "Drink, sir?"

"White wine, please."

"Oh my," said Alex in Sarah's ear. "This is your perfect man, isn't it." Sarah nodded slowly. "I'll try not to leave so quickly as to be obvious."

A (hopefully) respectful few minutes later, Alex and Jamie excused themselves. Sarah was left with Rowan and no idea what to say. Long seconds later, she asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Actually, yes. I came straight from work, that's what took so long. I haven't eaten."

"I have, but I wouldn't mind to order dessert and sit with you...if that's all right. I realize Jamie kind of surprised you with this."

"At least he left me in pleasant company. I'll ask if there's a table free, I really want a seat with a back rather than a bar stool."

A few minutes later they were being taken to a quiet table for two. Rowan ordered a nine-ounce sirloin. Sarah liked him more and more. "So, Rowan, what do you do?"

"I'm a counselor. I work with troubled kids."

"That sounds like tough work."

"It is, but the rewards when it works are priceless. I also do some coaching."

"What sports?"

"Whatever kids play. I played football, basketball, and baseball in high school. Played a little football in college, but just Division II. Big enough for high school wasn't big enough in college. The other problem was, while I could run and throw, I never learned to hit a curveball."

"So you found your level."

"You could say that. A good slider is often in my nightmares."

"The slider has ruined many promising careers."

"You a baseball fan?"

"Yeah, it was the one thing my dad and I could always talk about."

"Dads and baseball are a great combination."

By now Rowan was well into his steak, and Sarah was pacing herself with her banana cream pie. She didn't want to finish too far ahead of his dinner. When Rowan ate the last bite of his steak, Sarah ate the last bite of her pie.

"Oh, that was good. I was very hungry," said Rowan.

"I'll pay your bill. It's the least I can do for Jamie dragging you over here on a Friday night."

"You don't have to do that. I was upset with him at first, but I may have to thank him for introducing me to such a beautiful lady."

"I insist. I know counselors don't make much money, and I must impose on you to take me home. Alex drove."

"You kill me with kindness."

"I certainly hope not. I like you too much."

The bill paid, they left in Rowan's car. When they pulled up at Sarah's house, she invited him in.

"Would you like anything?"

"Just your company. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you." They exchanged small talk for a while, and after a few minutes Rowan began to hold her hand. She looked into his eyes and felt like she could get lost there. Some time later he leaned in to kiss her, but after an initial kiss she pulled away.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. "Was it something I did?"

"No, you're perfect. The problem is me."

"I don't see any problem with you."

"A bad relationship ended a couple of years ago, and I guess I'm still...."

"Wounded."

"Yeah. That's a good word."

"Remember, I'm a counselor. I deal with wounded people for a living, and I am discreet. You can tell me anything."

She sighed. "I'm not sure how much I'm ready to tell."

"OK, another question then. Will you arm wrestle me?"

"What?"

"Arm wrestle. I have been distracted by those arms all evening. As an athlete, I feel the need for competition."

"I...what?"

"The dress conceals, but does not completely cover your incredible musculature. You are obviously very fit. Every now and then, the fabric slips back enough to get a glimpse. I am intrigued."

"How intrigued?"

"Enough to ask a woman I just met to arm wrestle."

Sarah pushed back her dress to reveal her arm to him. He whistled. "Very impressive."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I promise not to hurt you."

"Oh, you promise....well, then, OK." She grinned mischievously. "Let's go to the kitchen counter."

Rowan was somewhat troubled by her smile, but he was in too deep now. "Do you think I should....take off my shirt?"

"Oh, please, take off your shirt."

He did. She was a little disappointed he was wearing a t-shirt underneath, but at least it was a sleeveless t-shirt. His biceps were very well defined. Not quite well-defined enough, she thought.

"Ready?" she asked, putting her elbow on the counter with her hand extended.

"Ready," he matched her pose and clasped her hand.

"Begin," and they both began to push with a tentative force. Rowan's bicep began to flex. She admired it briefly, watching it grow as she pushed harder and he responded. Finally, it appeared to stop growing, at what she estimated was 17 inches. Not bad. It wouldn't be enough.

"Got any more?" she asked. He looked at her incredulously. Yep, Sarah thought, he was giving it his all. She used her left hand to flip the sleeve material up over her shoulder and completely reveal her bicep. It was tensed and equal in size to his, but Sarah was not yet actually flexing. Time for that to change.

She began to flex and push. Her bicep rose higher and higher, while her hand pushed his lower and lower toward the table. In complete control, she was making this process very slow. He noticed her growing bicep, and his eyes grew wide. Sarah knew exactly where she was going with this, and he was going to see what he had wanted. Her bicep continued to rise until she pushed his arm to the counter.

"Ow!" he remarked, working his fingers and massaging his right arm with his left. "I guess it wasn't me that needed to promise not to hurt you!"

"OK, it's time for the whole show," she said. Leaving her arm on the counter where it was, she flexed the bicep to its full size. It grew and grew to a full 24 inch circumference. Rowan gawked.

"I could tell it was big, but I had no idea it was so big," he said.

"It's a set," she told him, raising her left arm and repeating the flex. Then she joined it with the other in a double-bicep pose.

"Quite astounding. I had thought you were not quite as muscular as your friend Alex. Obviously I was mistaken."

"Now that you know, how do you feel?"

"A little intimidated; a bit worried; and at the same time, very excited. And, definitely horny."

"Oh, really?"

"A guy my size doesn't get outmuscled very often. It happened in college football sometimes. This is the first time it's happened with a woman. At least, since I was seven."

"What happened then?"

"My older sister beat me up. I took one of her dolls."

"Naughty boy."

"And how do you feel?"

"Empowered. And, I must admit, sexually excited."

"Then I will try my previous gambit again." He leaned in to kiss her. This time, she responded.

"Do you take Mannitol?"

"Do you think I should?"

"I'll tell you soon."

A few minutes later, she was lying on her back in her bed, and Rowan was on his hands and knees on top of her. She was caressing his naked chest. "Rowan?" she said.

"Mmmmm?" he hummed, stopping his rhythmic movements.

"You don't need to take Mannitol."

"Mmmmmmm," he responded, resuming the rhythmic movements.

A couple of hours later, she was wrapped in his arms as they both lay on her bed. He was absent-mindedly rubbing her arm with his fingers. Sarah was telling Rowan her life story.

"This Steve sounds like a run-of-the-mill jerk. You did the right thing, getting out of the relationship. Of course, it would have been better for you to do it sooner. That can be very hard, though."

"I felt like no one else would ever love me."

"It's a problem many women have. They stay in a bad relationship because they can't see any other options. Even the ones like you, who get up enough courage to leave, can have serious emotional scars."

"Tell me about it."

"You've dealt with a lot tonight. It sounds like Alex has helped you move to a better place."

"So have you."

"It's in my job description. Now, I'd like to ask you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Take the top position, and flex for me."

"Really?"

"I find your muscles intoxicating."

"Why? In your role as a psychologist, of course."

"I'm a big guy. I always have to be concerned about hurting any woman I am intimate with. With you....I'm not so concerned."

"Oh. So you like me because I'm tough."

"Also because you are flat-out gorgeous."

"And I thought you were the gorgeous one." She climbed onto her knees, and began a show for his benefit. First, she flexed her biceps again. Then, she worked her way down her anatomy, flexing all the muscle groups for him to see and feel; first the pectorals, then the abs, then the quadriceps, then back up the anatomy while he felt her back. The more she flexed for him, he more aggressively he responded. Soon the bed was creaking loudly.

They slept a few hours, and awoke when it was already light outside. She rolled next to him and they cuddled.

"You know," he said, "I just thought about before, when you mentioned Mannitol. I know the woman that invented it."

"You do?"

"Yes, we went to high school together. I was a couple of years younger, but I knew her."

"Small world."

"I'm glad it was small enough for me to meet you."

"Me too."

*****************************************
*****************************************

Chapter 14: the Suburbs

Caitlin was dropped off at the middle school, and then Yvonne took Vicki to the police station to file a complaint against her hapless mugger. Once paperwork was completed, they headed off to work to open the travel agency. The desk sergeant went to file the report with his lieutenant.

"Here's the complaint on the attempted mugging last night," he said.

"What's your opinion, Sarge?"

"That this lady's husband is lucky he's not the one who surprised her, or we'd still be scraping him off the sidewalk."

"What's your opinion of the case?"

"The DA should plead this guy out to a lesser charge. With luck, he learned a lesson. If not, we'll have him in the system next time he tries something."

"Good enough, Sarge." The police station returned to business as usual.

The same feeling prevailed at the travel agency. Vicki did most of the dealing with individuals, with people wanting to play vacations and book cruises. Yvonne worked mostly with setting up group outings like bus tours and planned events. The week went by as most weeks did, except Vicki went home to Yvonne's house after work. She sometimes went back to her home to pick up clothes or small items, but her time was spent with her hosts, rather than alone in the house she had shared with Harry.

Vicki had almost settled into a "new normal" when she answered the phone at just after 3 on Friday. The voice on the other end of the line said, "Hi, Vicki, it's Harry."
"Oh. Oh. I'm going to put you on hold, and take this in the back. Hold on." She punched the buttons on her phone, then said to Yvonne, "It's Harry on the phone," and headed to the back. Yvonne told Kelly, their office girl, where they were going and followed Vicki to the back room.

Vicki took a deep breath, then picked up the phone and pushed Line 1. "Hello, Harry."

"Hello." There was a silence.

"You called me, remember?"

"I want to know if you've made a decision."

"Seems to me like you're the one making a decision."

"I just want my wife back."

"You've had your wife this whole time."

"I want the woman I married."

"I think you mean you want the body I had when we married."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Not even close."

"I just...I just want what we had."

"Harry, I've changed. You either have to accept it, or we have to move on."

"But can't you just...just..."

"Just what? Stop having muscles? No, I can't, Harry, I can't and even if I could I don't want to. People change."

"I don't like change."

"You've made that abundantly clear."

"So, you're just going to end it."

"I'm not the one that walked out, you asshole!"

"Now you're just being abusive."

"Fine. File for divorce. I won't stop you, I won't even contest it. I'll even let you have the house and the car, but I have to get money for them in the settlement."

"You know I can't afford that."

"Then I guess you'll have to sell the house."

"That's not fair."

"It's at least as fair as your husband of seven years walking out on you."

"Fine. Make a list of the things you want out of the house."

"I will, and I'll get back to you."

Harry hung up without saying goodbye, not that she was surprised. Beside her, Vicki said, "I thought that went well."

"Ugh."

"At least it was civil. Mostly."

"Will you run me over to the house after we close up? I want to pack up a few things, and start working on my list of house things I want. Oh, and can I stay...what's this?"

"A house key."

"Why are you giving me your house key?"

"It's yours now. I went to the hardware store at lunch and had a copy made."

"I can't thank you enough."

"Caitlin likes having her 'big sister' around, and I like your company. You can stay as long as you want, and the 'guest bedroom' becomes your room."

"I just want to get my part of this other house done soon. There's no way to tell if Harry will get the ball rolling next week, or next year."

"I can run you over there now. Kelly can mind the store for a few minutes."

It was only a week, but already this house did not feel like home, while Yvonne's did. Funny how things like that worked, Vicki thought. She packed up some of her clothes, but soon realized not many of them fit any more. She started bagging things up for the Salvation Army store. She went through the house, looking for things she wanted to keep, but did not find many. She was a little surprised at how much of her life she was willing to leave behind. She started making a list on paper, but ended up writing down very few items. There were a few things her parents had given her; a chair she had bought that ought to fit in the bedroom at Yvonne's house. Much of what remained was functional, but things to which she had no emotional attachment.

Vicki went to the garage. There were her gardening tools, which she wanted. Most of the other stuff was just hardware she wasn't interested in. She turned, and saw the pile of spikes that Harry had purchased. Three years before, Harry (the history teacher) had made an online purchase of what was advertised as replicas of the spikes used in building the Intercontinental Railroad in the 1870s, including a gold-painted one to represent the golden spike driven to mark the joining of the two segments, east and west. Harry had been full of plans for what he would do with these spikes, and had spent considerable money on them. Since they had been delivered, that had remained in this spot, untouched.

Vicki stared at the pile of one hundred spikes and thought about how it represented the things that were wrong with her marriage. It was a purchase Harry had made without her knowledge, for something he wanted, but that was never used, only took up space. It was another useless item she had never wanted. She reached down and picked up a spike.

As far as she knew, the spikes were exactly like the railroad spikes that had been used over 100 years ago. They looked like square nails, twelve inches long, made of solid iron, and about an inch thick on a side. She felt the heft of it in her hands.
Suddenly she was overcome with an urge to rend it, break it, take out her frustrations on the hunk of metal. She held the spike close to her chest, hands gripping it, and tried to bend it away from her. She pushed and pushed on the opposite ends, muscles straining. There were no results, but the effort felt good, cleansing. She strained harder, felt the flexing of her biceps, her pectorals, her deltoids, and her trapezii across her shoulders, the stress across most of her upper body. Harder and harder she strained, flexing her muscles to their limits. Vicki grunted and gasped with the effort. She was about to stop and rest when she felt something start to give. The spike slowly but satisfyingly bent into a ninety-degree angle.

Breathing hard, she looked at the piece of metal in her hands, ruined, bent out of shape. There were tears in her top: she took it off. Her bra had torn, and was hanging from its straps. She took that off, too, standing in the garage with only her pants on and the door closed. Satisfied with what she had done, she took another spike into her hands and began to bend it. This one took much less time to bend, and with her upper body bared, she could see the working of her muscles, the contraction and relaxation. She liked it, liked the sight, liked the feel.

Vicki began to think of it as a type of therapy. One after another, she picked up the spikes and bent them. She tried different angles, tried to bend some double, to bend some like pretzels. Soon, the pile of bent spikes was bigger than the unbent stack, and her upper body was glistening with sweat. She picked up another and started to bend it, then heard a noise.

To her surprise, the garage door was rising. When it was fully open, Harry was standing in front of her. She had been so preoccupied with her project, she hadn't heard the approach of the car, now parked in front of the garage. Harry stared at her, gawking at the sight, eyes wide.

She stood facing the garage door, naked to the waist, wearing only her Capri pants from work. She was sweating, her skin dripping with her efforts. Her muscles bulged after her exertions, reddened with blood flow, veins obvious. Her breasts were thrust forward, pushed by pectorals that had been enlarged once again by strenuous exercise, and heaving with heavy breathing of someone who was pushing their own limits. If someone had handed her a sledge hammer, she would have looked like a female John Henry, standing there stripped to the waist with a pile of railroad spikes.
Harry stared at her, and she stared at him. Then, gripped once again by impulse, Vicki took the bent spike in her hands and threw it at him. He ducked, and ran, eschewing the car and instead sprinting as fast as he could, choosing discretion as the better part of valor. She picked up another bent spike, but let it drop back to the floor as he ran farther and farther away from her, this time resisting an impulse to chase him.

After a moment's thought, she was glad she had. Vicki suddenly realized she was standing in her garage, with the door open, naked from the waist up. She was clearly visible from the street, though the car provided some cover. She picked up the bra, used the top to cover her breasts, and quickly went back into the house.
Once inside, she tested her clothes. The bra was useless, unable to cover the greater size of her chest and back muscles. She tested the top, a pullover with short sleeves. It would serve briefly, but it was now very tight.

Vicki called Yvonne to arrange a pickup. When she arrived a few minutes later, Yvonne silently noted the changes. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?" she asked.

"Later," said Vicki. "Let's take this stuff over to the Salvation Army."

They loaded the donations into the car, and dropped them off after a short drive, then back to the house. When they pulled up, Vicki said, "Now I'm home."

Yvonne smiled. "Yes, you are. For as long as you want."

"Someday you may wish you could get rid of me."

"I'll let you know if it comes to that."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you my biggest news. I got a request for a European trip booking today, a month-long honeymoon trip."

"Anyone I know?"

"Kind of. It's an old college friend, who just happens to have become the inventor of Mannitol."

"No kidding? She can afford a month's honeymoon in Europe."

"And we're invited to the wedding in June. It should be a big shindig."

"Who's invited?"

"You, me, Cait, and a guest for each of us if we want."

"I could see you taking that Roger fellow."

"Maybe. No guarantee he will still like what he sees."

"If he doesn't, I'm sure you'll be able to find someone who will."

****************************************
****************************************

Chapter 15: the Apartment Building

Samantha awoke facing Susan, with her head on the other woman's shoulder. Moving carefully, she eased herself off the bed, kissed Susan softly, and rose to get ready. Samantha needed to get to work early to prepare for the night's party. She washed up in the bathroom, pulled out a bra and panties, went back to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and was headed to her room to get dressed when she heard a noise from Susan's room. She stepped into the room to identify the noise, and discovered it was Susan, sobbing.

Samantha went immediately to the side of the bed. "What is it, honey, what's wrong?"

Susan, still naked, was heaving with sobs so much she couldn't speak. Samantha cradled her to comfort her. It wasn't easy, but consisted of Samantha wrapping her arms around Susan's upper body, and rocking her back and forth on the bed. She repeated, "Shh. Shh. It's all right. Everything will be fine. I'm right here," like one might comfort a small child.

Slowly Susan regained control of her breathing. As her respirations slowed, Samantha asked again, "What's wrong, honey?"

"I...I don't want to lose you."

"Of course you won't lose me. I'm right here. I'm just going to work, like you need to do."

"You,,,you...have all these places you can go, all these people who want you, work with...all these interesting people. I don't have anybody else. I...just have you."

"Don't be silly. I love you."

"I'm not silly!" Susan said, a mixture of anger and fear in her voice. "You're so beautiful. I'm not. I'm always afraid...I will lose you."

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Samantha resumed rocking Susan, who had begun to sob again. "Shh. I'm not leaving. I won't leave you. You're beautiful. I love you so much."

When Susan had calmed again, Samantha spoke softly to her. "Oh, honey, I didn't realize what I was doing to you. I was using you as my anchor, my home base, while I went out and enjoyed myself with reckless abandon. All this time, everything I ever wanted was right here."

"I just wanted to love you."

"You have, so much and so well. And I have loved you, but not full time. I was distracted by this handsome man, that beautiful woman. All the time, I should have been paying that attention to you. And I've gone and gotten you all upset."

"I'm not upset."

"You are obviously upset. You're using contractions."

"I'm not using contractions!"

"My dear literature professor, listen to yourself. And then listen to me."

Susan sighed. "OK."

"Here. Sit up and look at me." Susan did. "Now look in my eyes." Slowly, Susan raised her eyes to meet Samantha's.

Samantha took Susan's face in her hands, then spoke. "I have used you, not realizing what I was doing. You are so strong, so steady, I used that strength to give myself strength, taking but not giving. That stops today."

"What...what do you mean?"

"I mean that beginning right now, I have eyes for you and only you. You will be the only lover in my life. And when it becomes legally possible, I will marry you, and we will live happily ever after."

Susan began crying again, this time with happy tears. She kissed Samantha, over and over again. "Oh, Sami. That's all I ever wanted. You're all I've ever wanted."

"I love you, Susan. And I will be here forever. At least, as much of forever as I can manage."

"That will have to do."

"And now, you and I must both get ready for work."

"I don't know if I'm up to it."

"Come now. Poetry class this morning, isn't it? Who's the poet?"

"Emily Dickinson."

"Show them the power and the passion of her poetry. I know you can do it. If you let them know how much you love it, they will love it too."

"OK," Susan said, still weeping lightly.

"I love you, but I really have to go. I will see you tonight, when we go with some friends to a party, and afterwards I will be all yours. Tonight, and for the rest of our lives."

Susan took a deep breath. Samantha admired it.

"I will see you later," Susan said.

"That's my girl." Samantha gave her a kiss, dressed quickly, and left.

Across the hall, Rob woke up and began to stir. He eased himself away from Amanda and headed for the kitchen area, taking juice and milk from the refrigerator, got some cereal from the cabinet, and sat down for breakfast. It was unusual, he thought. He never ate something stored here unless it was cold pizza from the refrigerator.

Amanda soon stumbled from the bedroom to the bathroom. Sleepily, she said, "Oh, there you are. I'll join you." A few minutes and some clothes later, she did, and they sat at the table facing each other while they munched cereal.

"I'm going to join a gym this morning," said Rob. "There's one a block uptown. I'm going down this morning to sign up. It's a good day to do that, I thought, since I took today off work too."

"That's a wonderful idea! I'll come with you. Maybe I'll get a gym membership too."

"Are you sure you want to?"

"I really like the way my body is shaping up. I'd like to keep getting exercise, and I'd like to encourage you, too."

Actually, Rob thought, it's because of you I'm doing this. In just a couple of days, Amanda had gone from a tall, pudgy girl with plenty of baby fat to a tall blonde with a stunning figure. He figured he'd better get in better shape before she got a better offer. She was going to exercise more? This could be a losing proposition. He decided he wasn't going to give up, though.

"I could use some encouragement," he told her.

By 8:30 they were on their way to the gym, dressed to exercise. They went straight to the desk. "Two of you? We have a special on two memberships, three month trial. You like the three months, you can get a year at the same rate. First time through, a trainer shows you around, how to use the weight machines. You can have a personal trainer afterward, but you have to pay a fee."

Rob made out a check for both of them. A slim young woman was their trainer.

"OK, we'll start you both with the exercise bike for some cardio. Then I'll take you around the machines."

Six bike minutes later, Rob was sweating quite a bit, Amanda hardly at all. "Now we'll do what we call 'the circuit.' There are 20 machines in all, each designed to work a different muscle group. We'll try all of them today, but you don't actually have to use all of them. You need to use a variety to work different muscles. You also shouldn't use all of them every day. Some people do a full workout three times a week, some people work out three days and do cardio every day, and some split the machines upper and lower body on alternating days, and do cardio every day. That depends on you and your schedule."

They started on the machines for lower back and abdominals. The trainer would set the machine for their size, and then chose a weight. She had them do three sets of twelve repetitions on each machine. She would pick a weight for Rob, who would struggle with it, getting through the first two sets but usually not the third. She would do the same for Amanda, usually starting one notch lower than did Rob, and Amanda would start out slow, but by the end of the first set be handling the weight easily. So, the trainer would increase the weight for the second set, and the process would repeat, until by the third set Amanda was lifting more than Rob.

This continued around the circuit, as they moved into the leg machines. Rob noticed that not only was Amanda lifting more weight, but her muscle definition was increasing. The muscles on her legs were beginning to flex noticeably as she lifted the weights. Then they moved to the chest press and pec deck machines. Amanda was wearing a t-shirt, but Rob could see the flexing of her muscles under the cloth as she worked the weight.

Last were biceps and triceps. Amanda did the triceps machine first, while Rob was doing biceps. Rob watched his own muscles work, but thought he really wanted to see hers. Soon, they switched. Rob couldn't concentrate on his own triceps workout because he wanted to see Amanda work her arms. He shifted his position so he could see her arms when she pulled up the weight.

On the first set, not much happened. Her arm jumped a bit, but there was not much obvious flexing. The second set, with ten more pounds, was a little more exciting. He could see a small bulge forming on the arm, then releasing as she extended her hands outward again. For the third set Rob got a better show. Another ten pounds stimulated her arm so that the work of the muscle was more obvious. It began to rise up from her arm, more with each repetition. By the twelfth repetition is looked full and round, and solid. Rob was getting excited just looking at it.

Realizing he was getting obvious in his observations, Rob returned to his own work. After he completed the sets, they went back to the exercise bikes to get a warm-down. Rob rode for six minutes, huffing and puffing, while Amanda programmed hers for fifteen. The trainer showed Rob where the training charts were kept, with the settings for size and weights. "From time to time you will want to increase the weight, and the length of the cardio. And you have to vary your workouts. Anytime you want help, you can get one of us at the desk."
Amanda finished her exercise bike ride, and Rob suggested they head right back to the apartment.

"But we both need showers."

"Yeah, we can do that at home."

"One of us will have to wait."

"Not if we do it together."

"Oh. Oh, OK."

In the bathroom, they undressed each other, then Amanda turned on the water and they climbed into the tub. Rob stood in the back while she got her hair wet and applied shampoo. He admired her large, full breasts while she stretched to reach the back of her head. They were big but firm, riding high on her chest, surprisingly high for...what now looked like DD-cups. He reached out to caress them, feeling their fullness in his hands. She cooed in response.

Next he took the soap and began washing her all over. He thought about how much firmer her body was now. He washed the arms, feeling the now-full biceps and triceps. She noticed his attention, and flexed them for him. He lingered over the size, the fullness. These were 14-inch arms, not large for someone nearly six feet tall like Amanda, but he knew they were likely to get much larger if she was going to be working out. He caressed the breasts again, this time using soap, and she sighed in approval. He washed her stomach, and noticed the developing abdominals. She turned for him to wash her back. He touched every inch, noticing muscles small and large here as well. Then he squatted to wash her legs. The muscles here were developing too, filling out her thighs and her calves.

After she rinsed for awhile, she began to wash him. Soft hands applied soap to his chest, his stomach, his back. He watched the muscles of her arms work as she caressed him. Then she squatted as he had, to wash his legs. This brought her directly in line with his fully erect, action-ready penis. She looked at it for a minute, then laughed lightly, then began to slowly rub it between her fingers. His breathing immediately became rapid and shallow. She kissed the tip, and then stood up.
"We've never done it upright and all wet yet," she said. She began probing her crotch with his penis, found the right area, and inserted him into her. They both moaned together. The logistics of standing-up sex were more difficult, but they had time and enthusiasm for the job.

After drying off, they were in bed, copulating again. Some time later they lay back in each other's arms, as Rob tried and failed to keep himself from fondling her breasts. He enjoyed them far too much to stop.

"You know, I wasn't sure I wanted you to come to the gym today," he said.

"Why?"

"Well, look at me and look at you. You're tall and gorgeous, and I'm just a regular guy. I wanted to work out to look a little better for you, but now you're going to work out too, and I'm going to fall even farther behind."

"Oh, Rob. Why would you think that?"

"Like I said, take a look. I'm nothing special."

"Yes you are. You are the first person who ever looked at me and said, 'She's beautiful.' Well, the first that wasn't my parents. You think that doesn't turn a girl's head?"

"Oh, everybody thinks you're beautiful."

"Now, maybe some do. You were the first. It was you that brought me out of my shell. Maybe some girls would turn their back on that, forget the guy who first made them feel special, but not me. I will always love you."

"Some big strong handsome guy will come along and turn your head."

"Then it will be you. You joined the gym because you want to look good for me, right? Not to impress someone else?"

"...yeah..."

"Well, so did I. I joined a gym so I can look good for you, not for anybody else. I don't care if anyone else looks at me, ever."

He smiled. "OK, then."

"OK. Now, it's getting close to seven. We'd better get ready for this party."

"I'd almost forgotten."

Seven o'clock rolled around, and four well-dressed people gathered in the lobby. Rob wore his best suit and tie. Amanda wore a blue short-sleeve dress that came just below her knees, and showed off her new waistline. Susan wore black, a sleeveless v-neck also cut just below the knees. Samantha, of course, had to show off. She wore a low-cut sleeveless red dress, cut to the mid-thigh.

"You all look stunning," said Rob. "You three can even make a guy like me look good."

"I think you clean up pretty nice, mister," said Amanda.

"You will draw a lot of stares with that dress, Samantha," said Susan.

"I will only have eyes for you," whispered Samantha back.

The party was fabulous, like any event planned by Samantha. The food was incredible, the guest list impeccable, the music just right. The event, a museum fund-raiser, earned every penny needed for the year's operation. Amanda and Rob danced all night.

Rob was getting a drink for them between dances when he saw his boss approaching. "Murphy, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Hello, Mr. Smith. I know the party arranger, and came with her and some friends."

"Always helps to know people. This week, I have become very glad to know you. You know I've been pleased with your work."

"Yes sir, I appreciate the raise."

"I'm beginning to think that raise was too small. The project you finished Wednesday came to my desk for review, and then was sent on to the client. I thought it was more fine work. The client thought it was the best job of accounting they'd ever seen. They want Smith Accounting to do all of their accounts now."

"That sounds great, sir."

"It is great, young man. That account will make the company a million dollars a year, and will let me hire about a dozen more people while promoting others. I already have someone in mind."

"Who...me?"

"You do good work, and I am rapidly coming around to considering you my best accountant. I have an offer for you: assistant manager; you work on the toughest accounts, get to name the people you want to work with you, pull people when you need them. You get a personal secretary and a $20,000 annual raise."

"That's...that's an amazing offer, sir."

"You'd better think this over, son. It also means longer hours and more responsibility. You'll probably be in the office 50-60 hours a week instead of 40 or so. On the bright side, if it goes well you could also get annual bonuses tied in with company profitability."

"When do you need to know?"

"As soon as possible; Monday would be good. I have to start getting things rolling."

"Could...I have a say in who is hired for my secretary?"

"Possibly. Do you have someone in mind?"

Rob gazed over to where Amanda was standing. Mr. Smith followed his gaze.

"The tall young blonde woman? She's quite lovely."

"We've just started dating. She has a marketing degree, but right now is doing part-time secretarial work. She could use a full-time job."

"Have her come by the office next week with her resume'. If I am as impressed by her as you are, we'll hire her."

"Thank you, sir."

"Good night, young man. Consider this offer carefully, because it would mean big changes in your life. You have to decide if you are ready for them."

"I've already had some big changes this week. What's one more?"

"That's the spirit, son."

Rob returned to Amanda. "Who was that you were talking to?" she asked.

"My boss. And we've got a lot to talk about. I need your help making a decision."

"What kind of decision?"

"Only the kind that will affect the rest of our lives."

*****************************************
*****************************************

Chapter 16: The Wedding (An Epilogue)

Holly and Peter were married in June. It wasn't a big wedding, about 150 guests. Their families and closest friends attended, people from their job, people from their school days. It was a beautiful wedding. And it was a wonderful reception, probably because Samantha planned it.

"You've done a brilliant job, Samantha. Everything is just how I pictured it, or better. Thank you very much," Holly was saying.

"Oh, it was a pleasure, dear. Here, I want you to meet my partner, Susan."

"Business partner?"

"Domestic partner," said Susan.

"Oh, I understand. I beg your pardon. Matching diamond rings, I see."

"Yes, thank you for noticing. We recently affirmed our commitment."

"They're quite lovely. I hope you are very happy together."

"Now, I've got to do this," said Samantha. "I've been waiting to do it all day." She slipped her left arm around Holly's right. "It's so big! It's amazing!"

"Oh, well, wait until you see this," Holly said, and flexed the bicep.

"Oh my God! Susan, do you see this? I can't believe it!"

"Your musculature is incredibly impressive, Holly."

"Thank you, I owe it to hard work, clean living, and lots of sex."

"I'm sure Peter is very happy. He certainly looks it. Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"Well, do you know that stunning blonde over there? She's absolutely gorgeous, and those must be 20-inch biceps."

"Actually, that is our friend Amanda. She and the young man she is with have been enjoying your fine product."

"The shorter fellow with her? Yes, it must be. He absolutely beams whenever he sees her."

"We are proud to say we introduced them. They have had a very positive influence on each other."

"We brought them with us. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. Please introduce me later."

"Sure. And do you know that tall, gorgeous fellow sitting next to her? I've never seen a more beautiful man."

"Oh, that's Rowan. We went to high school together. He's with the brunette next to him. Her name is Sarah, I believe."

"You went to high school with that? Did you date him?"

"When I graduated, he was a freshman, tall and gangly. The hunk part came later, sad to say. He was always a great guy, though."

After Holly had moved on, Susan said to Samantha, "You seemed transfixed by the bride."

"Did you see when she flexed her bicep while my arm was there? I swear, it got so big, the breadth of it was from my elbow to my fingertips! And so thick! It was like standing next to a superhero. That must be how Lois Lane feels next to Superman. Or that Steve Trevor guy when he's next to Wonder Woman."

Rowan was talking to Rob and Amanda. "So what kind of work do you do?"

"I'm an accountant," said Rob. "I was recently promoted to assistant manager."

"Sounds like things are going well."

"This beautiful lady has been my good luck charm."

"You were doing well before you met me," said Amanda.

"And even better since."

"You two look very happy. Thinking about doing something like this soon?"

Rob and Amanda looked at each other, then grinned. They kept their silence.

"Oh, all right, be secretive. So much for opening up to people you just met."

"Well, Sarah, what about you two?"

"We are working through some of my issues. I can say that no one has ever made me feel like Rowan."

"So....."

"So this could take a little time. But I like where it seems to be headed."

At another table, Yvonne leaned in close for a private word with Vicki. "So, are you going to ask Roger to go to Mexico with you?"

"I don't know. It seems early in our relationship. After all, I booked that as a second honeymoon for me and Harry...ironically, on the Saturday that he left me. It's not like we have separate rooms."

"Sometimes you just have to dive in and try a relationship. It's a fast way to find out if you are compatible."

"I don't even know if he'd go."

"And you never will, unless you ask him."

"It doesn't feel right yet."

"Ask and find out what he thinks. He came to this wedding with you."

"I'd rather give the trip to you and Caitlin."

"I have no desire to take my 14-year old to Mexico for a week. We are planning our vacation to Disney World this year."

"Disney World?"

"Her choice. I just like having a teenager that still likes Disney World, not to mention going there with her mother. I offered a week at the beach."

Caitlin was sitting at a table next to the dance floor, watching Holly dance with her father. Her eyes were fixed on the bride, the most muscular woman she had ever seen. Peter wandered by and said, "This is actually her cover identity. Secretly, she's Wonder Woman."

Caitlin looked at him in the exasperated way teenagers look at adults. Peter looked back at her. "It's just a joke," he said. Caitlin turned back to watch Holly again, and Peter wandered away to find someone else to talk to.

A short time later, Holly gathered up Vicki and Sarah. "OK, girls, I have a professional interest in the answer to this question. What's the craziest thing you've done with your muscles?"

Sarah said, "I arm-wrestled Rowan on our first date."

"Interesting. What happened?"

"I beat him. Then we made love."

"Was there a connection between those things?"

"I don't think so. Not directly, anyway."

"How about you, Vicki?"

"I bent a pile of railroad spikes. Then I threw one at my now ex-husband."

"Railroad spikes? What were you doing with railroad spikes?"

"It's a long story."

"OK, that's a pretty good one. How about you, Holly?"

"I got into a fistfight with a bunch of Saudi bodyguards."

"You what? What happened?"

"I beat up three of them, and the other one ran away when I broke his gun."

"Broke...his gun?"

"Yeah."

"OK, so who were the bodyguards guarding?"

"A prince."

"Was he handsome?"

"He was a pain in the butt. Peter punched him out."

"Did you get in trouble for all this?"

"Actually, no. We were in Paris and I think the French were looking for an excuse to throw him out of the country. Plus, the gun thing set them off...gun laws in France are much stricter."

"And here I held back my story about knocking out a mugger with one punch because I didn't think you'd believe me," said Vicki.

Sarah shook her head. "You girls live much more interesting lives than I do."

"Give it time," Holly said.

Peter was talking to Brian, his best man and college roommate.

"OK, Peter, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. You don't have to answer if you don't want to, I'm just curious."

"Sounds interesting. Shoot."

"What's it like to make love to Holly? I mean, she's...well...really big. You know, muscular."

"Hmmmm."

"Like I say, if it's too personal..."

"No, no, I understand. And if anyone deserves an answer to such a question, it's you. After all, you may not know this, but Holly and I started having sex while you and I were roommates."

"Oh, I knew, all right. Our bedrooms were right next to each other."

"You did? You never said anything."

"Guy Code. You're not allowed to complain just because the guy in the next room is having sex. At least, unless he's really obnoxious about it."

"Well, thanks. OK. Let me see...I should start by saying I have a limited frame of reference. Holly is the only woman I've ever had sex with, though as you know, she wasn't always muscular."

"Yes, that's fairly recent."

"Over the last three years. So, the obvious thing is her size. After all, she's big...big breasts, big muscles, it's all big. There's a lot of size there. I think it's kind of a superstimulus."

"Oh, like in the experiments when they show birds eggs that look like theirs, but much bigger. The birds would sit on the bigger eggs and ignore their own."

"Yes. I get turned on by the size, the volume. It's all so big, I get very stimulated. But, while she's big, she doesn't seem heavy. I think that's a function of the strength. She's a very strong girl."

"She looks like she could lift a tank."

"I wouldn't put it past her. Obviously, she's very physically capable. She can lift and adjust, and we can get into all kinds of positions because she is so athletic. She's not as limber as a gymnast, I suppose, but we can get almost anything accomplished if we want. It's thrilling."

"I think I understand."

"Plus, she's an equal partner. I've read about guys who just kind of get on top and do the deed, and that's it. We take turns, work at pleasuring each other. I like that kind of partnership. Plus, she's smart, and funny, and she gets me. Gets my jokes, even if she doesn't always laugh."

"I'd worry if she did."

"She's the most brilliant woman I've ever met, certainly smarter than me. As far as I'm concerned, she's the perfect woman."

"Good thing you married her before she wised up and left, then."

"Yep, good thing."

"Looking forward to the honeymoon?"

"More than anything I've ever done."

"Good man. And best of luck to you."

"Yep, it's about time for us to be going."

A few hours later, Holly and Peter were on a plane over the Atlantic Ocean. Peter was on his laptop, using the wi-fi. "What are you looking at?" asked Holly.

"Checking some news stories. Says here that gym membership is up all over the U.S. and memberships for women have tripled since the same time last year. Purchases of home gym equipment have also increased."

"Interesting."

"Oh, and here's something. Our friend Prince Fayed was found dead."

"Really? Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Any details?"

"Apparent heart attack, it says. Surrounded by his family. Usual blather. Oh, here's a few interesting points. Says something about ligature marks around his wrists."

"He was tied up?"

"So it would seem. But, he was in the company of women."

"His harem, no doubt, but even Saudis aren't supposed to have more than one wife."

"Not for public consumption, anyway. Have you heard from Shohreh lately?"

"Not since I sent the case of Mannitol last month. Hey, let me check my e-mail and see if she sent a message."

Holly punched a few keys to sign into her personal account. "Hey, here we go. 'Dear Holly, thank you for your help. It has been very comforting in our recent trial. As you may have learned, my husband Prince Fayed has died.'"

"She's quite clever, that one."

"She has to be careful. Never know who might be checking your e-mail."

"What else does it say?"

"'He died in the company of his wives. I believe he tried too hard to please all of us. I feel responsible. The strength of our demands overwhelmed him.'"

"Oh, I just bet it did. What do you bet those 10 wives and 20 concubines tied him up and had their way with him?"

"While their muscles grew bigger and bigger before his eyes. He couldn't take it any more. It killed him."

"That, or the hours of continuous sex killed him. Imagine trying to please 30 women, all trying to build big muscles."

"Maybe someday Shohreh will be able to tell us exactly what happened." She signed out and closed the computer.

Peter turned to Holly and said, "There's one thing I've been meaning to ask you."

"What's that?"

"The first time I asked you to marry me, you said no. Why is that?"

"Oh. Well, that was a bad day. We'd had problems in the lab. I had talked to my mom on the phone that day, and we'd had an argument. But that wasn't the worst thing."

"What was the worst thing?"

"Just before that, I had started to think I might be pregnant. My period was late, later than usual. I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive, so I had an appointment with my doctor to make sure."

"What happened?"

"Before the appointment, I had a big bleeding episode. I was worried, and rushed to the doctor that afternoon. She said it looked like I'd had an early miscarriage."

"How come you never told me?"

"I don't know. You know how I can be funny that way. I should have told you, but I was so depressed about it. So, that night when you proposed, I just cried and said I couldn't. I was feeling unlovable."

"You could never be unlovable."

"And you were perfect. You were sweet, and caring, and held me all night."

"I was worried about you. Something was obviously wrong. I could tell you were holding back, just not what."

"Bless you for that. Now I have something to tell you."

"What, something else?"

"Yes. I'm pregnant."

"Again?"

"Yes. This time for seven weeks. I passed the first miscarriage point, that's what I was waiting for to tell you."

"This is terrific! Are you excited?"

"Yes, very excited. Almost as excited as you, I think!"

"Holy cow. I'm going to be a father."

"And I'm going to be a mother."

"You'll be a terrific mother. This is one lucky kid."

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too. And I love this baby," Peter said, rubbing her stomach.

[fbbnut]

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!

+K

[uno987]

Fantastic story...thx..