Injustice 2

[j2001]

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Apparently not many people liked the length and format of part 1. So I'm back to publishing it as plain text one chapter at a time. I hope this makes it more enjoyable and easier to read for everyone interested.

Just like the three sizable chapters of part 1, part 2 features new characters and can be read as a stand-alone story. Later chapters will show how they're all interconnected. Also, this story is completely unrelated to DC's Injustice which served only as an inspiration for the Supergirl chapter of part 1.

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Daylight was just about to seep through the curtains when he opened his eyes. He could barely make out the outlines of the furniture around him. He stealthily turned to the other side of the bed, careful not to wake his wife up. Amanda was facing the opposite side. His gaze was fixed on her flourishing mane of naturally red hair, as luminous as burning flames when showered with light. Now accustomed to darkness while the first ray seeped in the room, he noticed how the blanket rose dramatically as it went from covering his body to hers. But it was her rich, velvety scent inebriating his sense of smell like an aphrodisiac that took him over. She was perfectly still and silent, yet he couldn't help but touch her at the risk of being caught. He extended one arm following the hem of the sheets and gently caressed her shoulder with his fingers, barely making contact. Even in her relaxed state he could feel beneath his fingertips the harsh toughness of her muscles, tracing the wide mounds that made up her powerful deltoids like pillars to a building, keeping the blanket aloft. He spent a few more seconds enjoying the delicate softness of her flawless skin as it wrapped her every fiber nice and tight like golden satin, switching focus to his memory of it as soon as his excitement allowed him to withdraw his hand, afraid he had pushed his luck for too long. He wasn't in the mood for a beating, not now that he had been doing so well in the last few weeks.

Alas, touching a woman's muscles while being filled with her scent was more than enough to overwhelm any man's senses and he was no exception. His boner became visible under the cover as he felt his arousal grow by the second. His accelerated heartbeat pounded in his ears, making it sound even louder to him. He had to get away quickly if he didn't want his muscle lust to be the end of him.

Slowly, trying to conceal his excitement while preventing his clumsiness to get the better of him, he got out of bed. Careful not to make any noise, he walked on tiptoes to the door. Wiping sweat off his head with his forearm, he gave her a quick look. Despite all these years, he was still amazed by her size. Amanda looked like a small mountain, buried under a thin layer of wool that hardly covered her large frame and burgeoning figure. Fortunately for him, she still seemed to be fast asleep. With the expertise of a burglar, he silently pulled the handle and closed the door behind him, onwards to his last stop before his duty.

Several quick, stealthy steps in the dark corridor brought him in front of a thin door made of light wood with a copper-plated sign on it, "Male Guests' Bathroom". Inside, he switched on the light and as his eyes adjusted to it he recognized the only familiar albeit rather cramped environment where he could find the closest thing to a man's privacy he was allowed to. He tried not to care about having to share this space with any other man who happened to be another guest under his wife's roof, he had every reason to be happy as it is. Within a few square feet he had a sink, a toilet, a small shower and even a washing machine, a gift from his wife and a rather impressive luxury as far as men's personal appliances could go. It was a reward for his good behavior and it was imperative he didn't do anything to upset her or let her down if he didn't want her to take it back, or worse. A note on its top read "Remember your duties", signed with a stylized arm flexing big biceps. Just looking at the note was enough to make him smile as it reminded him of his wife's thoughtfulness, and that simple drawing always made him think of her actual big, strong arms.

On that morning, like most others, he closed himself in the bathroom to take care of his inappropriate boner. Despite the many times Amanda had sex with him on a daily basis, sometimes rougher than others, his body couldn't avoid answering to being in such proximity to a woman. What if she woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty for sex? He couldn't risk not being ready. As an evolutionary development, and as a show-off of their genetic qualities, men's biology was then wired to react to a woman's scent or touch no matter what. This phenomenon was so universally spread it earned a name, muscle lust, two simple words that defined men's competition to attract women's attention. The quicker and bigger a man developed his muscle lust, the better were his chances to be picked and thus, the fitter he was to survive.

Modern days, however, were a far cry from those primitive ages. Civilization and technology had developed astonishingly fast over a hundred years only, raising living standards to unprecedented levels. Most of the world was finally done with food scarcity and wars, shaping daily life in new ways. Gyms and weight culture, for example, became ubiquitous to let women fulfill their natural need to build their bodies as hard as they could now that there was no need for warriors and soldiers. On the other hand, sexuality grew both more important and complicated. The safety and decadence of modern life allowed women to indulge in their increasing sexual needs while developing a taste for new ways to enjoy them. However, now that resources and average wealth allowed even most of men to be fed enough, it wasn't difficult to find a healthy specimen who could respond well to muscle lust. As a result, women became pickier in their search for an official mate, driven by individual preferences that no one would have cared about in the past. Physical preferences, such as skin tone or facial features, but also behavioral ones, like obedience and foresight. Whereas past women used their superior strength to have their way on any dick on a stick, as men used to be called, most modern day women liked men to willingly devote themselves to their wives, possibly anticipating and fulfilling their needs.

Other than similar common requirements, Amanda wished for her husband to be ready for her only when she was in the mood. Since a woman's wish is a man's command, he was forbidden to walk around the house with a boner unless she was ready to take him. While Amanda treated it like a rigged trial of loyalty and deference, expecting him to devote himself to the task while not entirely able to succeed because of his automatic response to her presence, he was dead serious about it. He was well aware his only hope to live a long and possibly happy life was to please his wife as best as he could so he was only eager to go out of his way to do it.

Looking at the biceps drawn on the note attached to the washing machine, and his wife's pumped muscles pictured on his mind, he stroked one last time before exploding in an eruption of cum. Whereas he would have had to be proud of his health normally, he was then glad he could divert his attention from muscle lust while proving his compliance to Amanda's orders.

As soon as he was done cleaning up after himself, leaving his little private place neat and tidy after a shower and a change of clothes, he was ready to move on to the kitchen for his first task of the day. First to the end of the corridor, then down the hall and two flights of stairs, down another large hallway and finally his destination was on the right. Indeed, Amanda's city home was big and cozy, offering a vantage point right from inside the city center. Three floors above ground of roughly 10,000 square feet each; an underground floor of equal size as private gym; a 1,000-square-foot garage; and a garden with porch, patio, marble pool and a weight corner. Even if Amanda would have gladly done away with half of it, a successful businesswoman like her was expected to live an expensive life if she wanted to be respected by her peers. Such a mansion would have required several housekeepers Amanda was ready to hire but talked out of it by her husband. He wanted to prove her he could take care of it by himself but he also didn't want his wife to waste money like that. He wanted Amanda to grow richer every day, climbing the steps of wealth as far as she could, especially since money had become a measure of power. As the wealth she hoarded kept on growing, so did her political and economic influence, the relevance of her friendships and the quality of her network among others. This was the modern world's power game, and he desired nothing more than for Amanda to win.

Though he preferred not to say, he'd also much rather have had the house to himself than sharing it with other men on a daily basis. Working his ass off for the sake of her wife was a reward and an honor compared to having two or three pairs of male eyes wandering around her property, touching her belongings with filthy hands as if they could share in her glory. All he needed was a tight schedule to be followed strictly, and he had been following it since years now. Amanda seemed satisfied with his work which was the only validation he wished for.

Once in the kitchen, he typed a four-digit code on a keypad on the wall, silently switching on lights all over the house bar the master bedroom ones. It looked as if the night had been immediately followed by midday, skipping dawn and morning altogether. He gathered the tools and ingredients he needed to prepare her traditional breakfast of queens. Breakfast was the only meal she ate at home so most of that grand kitchen sat unused. Although he happened to be a nice cook, acing cooking tests throughout his education as any man aspiring to be a worthy husband was expected to, he was glad he could keep the kitchen clean and ready with minimum effort considering how much time the rest of the house demanded of him.

Eight eggs, sausages, toasted scones with butter. Fruit salads with sliced bananas, walnuts and dates. Then a big jug of fresh-squeezed orange juice and a steaming quadruple espresso. He put the pans aside and put everything on the silver tray with white gold corners and handles. Mindful not to catch her scent, he took the satin napkin with his wife's initials and rolled it around a set of clean silver fork and knife before putting it on the tray. Before setting off, he grabbed a pair of paper napkins to pick up the handles without touching the gold veins.

Moving that tray across the house was probably his hardest daily task, and a proper workout. It required strength, especially because of the jug of juice. Coordination and balance, to avoid the slightest spill when climbing the stairs. Discipline, to do it carefully yet on time every day.
Once reached his destination, he patiently waited in front the master bedroom's door with one ear almost against it. It took only a few seconds before he could hear his cue, a faint alarm going off. He used his elbow to open the door.

***

The alarm was linked to the array of ambient luminaries mounted all over the upper borders of the walls, switching on the bedroom's diffused lighting. Curtains opened automatically right after, welcoming inside the feeble sunlight of an early morning coming from the window. Amanda lazily opened her eyes and propped herself up, rising from underneath the cover like a mighty whale emerging above water. The blanket steadily unveiled the treasure it had hidden for the whole night as it fled its protection. First it was her large, heavily corded neck with dangerously swollen traps pushing against it from behind, beginning at the bottom of her ears. Then, following the curves of her traps, the true width of her frame and muscles was revealed, from the monolithic slabs of ripped, overdeveloped pectorals expanding forward on her chest, to the wildly bulging, striated bowling ball deltoids of her larger-than-life shoulders.

As the cover kept on sliding down her prodigious body and more of her pecs came into view, so did her arms. The lower ends of her delts funneled to prominent brachialis, the adjoining muscles between Amanda's couple of twin showstoppers. First were her triceps, placed on the back albeit easily visible from all sides, those horseshoe-shaped clusters of veritable mass formed by seemingly uncountable agglomerates of harshly trained muscle fibers, bulging outward like an array of cliff edges. Then, in a specular position, an onlooker would have seen biceps like subcutaneous boulders bursting with untold strength and definition even when relaxed, made of fibers so dense their unrelenting hardness could be felt from a distance. A fat, plump vein with several tributaries ran longitudinally over both biceps before working its way up to join its many sisters across Amanda's hungry upper-body muscles. And although the sheer mass of her arms entirely hid her back from view, her arms were being kept slightly aloft by the pressure of her outrageous lats alone, effortlessly gaining ground like wings of rock-hard beef, further expanding a highly detailed and obscenely massive network of back muscles wildly exaggerating the upper part of her hourglass figure.

The blanket eventually settled at the bottom of her abdomen, in front of the neatly stacked cobblestones jutting out from her core like bricks being pushed over from the opposite side. Her abs could be seen crowning an Adonis belt bulging with such intensity it looked like it could come alive at any moment, and were surrounded by a deluge of tight, inhumanly ripped obliques that the peculiar angle made look like a bridge between the tremendous width of her back and the narrowness of her midriff.

Amanda's orders were to be provided with fresh breakfast in bed at the exact time of her awakening, so her husband tentatively took a few steps toward her position tray in hands, eager to show his efficiency while awkwardly diverting his eyes not to get a boner as per her instructions. From the corner of his eyes he could see Amanda acknowledging his presence with a smirk, sitting upright with her wide back against the headboard and her tree-trunk legs lying still underneath the cover. No garment cloaked any inch of her torso as it was her custom to have first light shine upon her body.</p>

Several slow steps across the large room later, he extended his arms to hand over breakfast and said,

"Good morning, honey."

He was now allowed to look at her in the eyes. Even though he was standing, the height difference between them resulted in their faces being at the same eye level. And one quick look was all it took to make him feel his blood flowing south. If her body was testament to the achievements a woman's physique was capable of when honed to perfection, her face held an equally efficient yet opposite swaying power. Brute, indomitable strength was replaced by soft, gentle features traced by the delicate strokes of an artist's hand. From the dainty jawline to high, prominent cheekbones and a small, perky nose, Amanda's traits defined attractiveness. Her rosy, naturally glossy lips leaned on the big side, looking constantly plump and full yet sweet and tender. Teeth seemed to shine with their own white light, perfectly straight and contiguous. 

However, what could truly take anyone's breath away were her eyes. Big and harmoniously carved within Amanda's flawless face design, of a green akin to those of the clearest lake water in mountain woods when sunlight seeps through the foliage and makes it shimmer. Their jade glow seemed able to pierce through anyone's soul, baring the deepest of thoughts at her leisure. It was scary how her gaze made men afraid she could probe their minds and take control when they realized they couldn't look away until she broke her spell.

Long eyelashes, thin eyebrows and a full head of fiercely red hair with curly ends resting on her traps, delts and pecs only added to her unbelievable looks. Amanda's face was also the only spot where the consistent smoothness of her naturally tanned, unblemished skin wasn't punctuated by the bulky, swollen veins bulging all over the rest of her body.

Contemporary society defined femininity as the length of a straight line centered on the x-axis and connecting the peak of a triangular figure developing on the positive side of the y-axis with the opposite peak of a specular figure developing on the negative side of the y-axis. The first figure represented physical might and aesthetics, mainly height and muscle size, strength and control but also the beauty of muscle shape, insertion and definition. The second one was the power of looks, such as the daintiness of features, the perkiness and symmetry of bone structures, the sparkle and depth of the gaze and the radiance of hair and skin. The higher the subjective score achieved by each quality, the bigger the surface area of the corresponding figure and the distance of its peak from y = 0. As peaks grew distant from the y-axis, the length of the straight line connecting them would have increased correspondingly. A similar system with entirely different parameters was in place to evaluate masculinity.

In the split second he lost himself in her eyes, Amanda's husband felt overwhelmed by femininity he could only call explosive. Not a day went by without him thanking his stars for having blessed him with such an incredible wife. He worked hard and had done well for himself before marriage, still he could have easily been picked by a 'normal' woman. With Amanda, every morning he felt the same waves of desire and affection of the first time, never able to regret having been taken for life. She wasn't just incredibly big and strong, or simply a marvel to look at, she also treated him with love and respect. She was strict and demanding of course, as any woman should have been. But she never resorted to violence for the sake of it like others did. And not just out of her law-abiding nature.

"Thank you, munchkin" she said, her voice cheerful and jolly yet effortlessly rich enough to resound throughout the room as if it came from every direction.

She casually grabbed the breakfast tray with her right hand's thumb and index finger and began feasting on it. Her hands were sleek and relatively tiny, with long fingers and pink, polished nails. It would have been impossible to tell from their looks the obscene amount of iron those hands were accustomed to lift if it wasn't for the few veins creeping from her wrists to their backs.

Amanda's husband could finally relax his arms, no more jugs and jars concealing the sight of his wife. He couldn't even imagine the day he'd grow tired of looking at those bulging mounds of rock-hard beef twitching and dancing together with her every breath, nor of seeing her lift heavy trays the way he'd pick up a leaf. The scent filling his lungs only made her even more irresistible, his boner now coming to full attention against his 'easy access' pants.

It didn't take long for Amanda to finish her meal. Women were accustomed to eat large amounts of food in one sitting to feed and build their strong, brawny bodies. What would have taken a man half a day to eat, they would have digested in minutes with unmatched efficiency in the absorption of nutrients. Women's muscles were always longing for fuel and the human female digestive system evolved to provide it several times faster than men's or any other mammal's.

"Jack, will you help me stretch a little before getting out of bed?" she asked him with a playful tone.

Without waiting for an answer she didn't need, she grabbed his hands and quickly placed his palms on her pecs. They were already far more than a handful each. He felt the smoothness and warmth of her silky skin, the pencil-thick veins drifting around and reveled in the sensation of the large, shredded muscles pulsing against his touch.

She yawned and raised her arms to the sky twisting her wrists, every bundle of fibers like thick bumps visible over her chiseled upper body. His eyes could feast on her mighty big lats, jutting out from her sides like an overtly cocky expansion of her frame, wings of steel with round edges that emphasized her extreme V-taper. From this position he could notice her torso was easily twice broader than his own.

Then, Amanda drew both elbows back to open up her shoulders and stretch her pecs. Jack felt the muscles elongating under his fingers, the rugged striations expanding their surface as her sinews pulled them bigger yet thinner. Though there was very little of Amanda he didn't enjoy, he especially loved feeling her muscles shift under his touch, stretching and tensing, pulling and pushing like living beings with minds of their own. It reminded him of all the incredible things these throbbing masses of enormous power were capable of, and how they all worked together to provide his wife with the crushing strength.

From the relaxing motion of a good stretch, Amanda suddenly changed her tune. Jack needed a shock to wake up from the trance her pecs had put him in. She first relaxed her arms and then swiftly bent and flexed them in front of her abdomen, clenching her fists to flex her whole upper body in a sort of seated most muscular pose. It was like a bomb had gone off in Jack's hands. Amanda's pecs instantaneously exploded in size like balloons being inflated with a truckload of steel, angrily bulging in every direction, stretching the paper-thin skin to its limit as it tried to contain the onslaught of growing striations desperately fighting for space. Covered in a swarm of overworked veins, the twin monolithic boulders were tightly pressed against each other forming an impressively deep muscle cleavage. Amanda felt the tingle of arousal when they brushed against her jaw causing her to let out a resounding moan.

Jack, who had barely recovered from being knocked down by the sudden expansion of his wife's pecs, looked up and saw the unforgettable show her muscles were putting on. Arms, shoulders, lats, all of them outrageously massive and vein-ridden, surrounding a chest that could have instilled fear in the bravest of hearts. His heart did indeed begin to race as his boner cut through the patch of his pants.

"Jack, stand up," commanded Amanda, her tone audibly aroused, "grab my chest, come on."

He immediately obliged, his grasp trying to hold on to the twitching mountains of ripped muscles. They truly did seem alive.

"Now squeeze!"

Jack humored her and tightened his hold as best as he could, trying to accomplish the hopeless task.

"HARDER!" roared Amanda, her order booming like a thunder.

Jack began to sweat profusely, weak on his knees and red on his face. He doubled down on his efforts to squeeze her chest until his fingers turned white and his hands bled against the edges of her muscles' striations. He could see her nipples had grown longer and fatter, definitely bigger than his thumb, pointing straight down from the bottom of her pecs.

"A-Amanda... I can't-- I can't even make a dent..."

"I know, silly. But when I give you an order, you don't hold back. You know I don't like repeating myself, don't you?"

"Yes, Amanda. I'm sorry."

"Good. Now, how many times stronger than you do you think I am?"

"Um... I'm, uh, not sure... twenty, maybe?"

Jack's reply made Amanda smirk wickedly. She focused on flexing her chest even harder, thrusting it forward as if to channel more energy into it. Her pecs grew and pulsed rhythmically, followed suit by her arms and lats again, adding hard, heavy mass to fibers already bursting with power. Her back became wider and thicker, smashing the headboard behind her against the wall in a single growth spurt. Traps harder than mountains rose in unison past her ears, ripped and veiny. Amanda's face looked constricted between walls of muscles with her pecs, traps and delts pushing against it from all sides. Jack guessed that being fondled by your own muscles must have been a pleasant feeling judging by her sexually charged moans and expressions. He could also see her eyes glowing unnaturally bright.

However, he could barely see anything other than the humongous pecs packed with raw female power bulging and constantly throbbing in front of him. If they looked alive before, they seemed angry now. Angry, ferocious, crazy strong beasts on the hunt for blood.

Just then, rumbling loudly similar to heavy boulders being dragged on the ground, they slowly parted like doors, exposing Amanda's tremendously deep muscle cleavage. With his boner growing yet another few inches, Jack eagerly began to work his tongue as far as it could reach over the bare inner walls of her pecs while his hands kept on stroking the front sides of the massive slabs.

"Jack," she stopped him in a husky, sensual voice, visibly turned on by the effort it was taking to flex that hard, "grab a rock from my drawer and put it between my pecs."

Jack hurried to the bedside table, opened the first drawer and quickly picked one of the many rocks she used for practice. A medium-sized one that would fit in her cleavage, bigger than a pebble but a bit smaller than a proper stone. They were all thick and even rather heavy for their size. He then placed the rock on her chest, right between the twin shredded mountains of female muscle bulging forth.

A second later, Jack saw the already fat veins wrapped around her pecs first tightening then uproariously exploding in size, looking like snakes that were turning into hawsers. The mad rush of blood immediately flooded the huge vessels exploiting their dramatically increased capacity to the brim, showering her muscles with a feast of nutrients, causing the massive veins to throb spasmodically as if jolted repeatedly.

Jack was ready to cum at the sight of veins thicker than his arms but the best had yet to come. Amanda growled, then roared loudly with a long, deep moan and violently squeezed her pecs back together like two seemingly indestructible objects crashing into each other at high speed. The impact caused a tremendously loud noise and a shock wave that shook the entire house and blasted the glass window. Jack ungracefully fell on his butt as if someone had picked up him up and thrown him against the wall. It took him a few moments to be able to hear again and open his eyes. When he did, he looked up and saw a hugely hulked-out Amanda trying to keep her composure while extra fine dust slowly oozed from the bottom of her monster pecs to the deep gorges between her ridiculously massive abs. She couldn't see past the size of her chest but she was definitely feeling the result of her work. All-female pecs like industrial hydraulic presses had crushed a rock into nothing and the only effort it took her was to keep them apart to have the rock put into place. Amanda's eyes glowed like green lights in a pitch-black night and her features had somehow become even gentler and prettier, just as her body had grown bigger and much, much stronger.

Witnessing this mind-boggling show of extreme and sudden muscle growth backed by the strength of titans proved to be the definitive experience for Jack. Nothing could ever top the extent of Amanda's transformation into an even greater, sexier bombshell packed with grotesquely overdeveloped muscles exploding all over. Each of her arms had grown larger than his whole body and her pecs could have casually eaten him alive in a single bite. He could have dug the entire length of his fingers between his abs while his open arms wouldn't have been able to hold onto both her shoulders at the same time, nor one of her delts would have fit in his hands put together. The sight of the sweetest, most innocent face on an immobile head locked deep between swollen, bulky tracts of sickeningly ripped female muscle was the cherry on top.

Jack's dick had grown to the largest it had ever been, looking disproportionately big compared to the rest of his body, its length and girth close to that of one arm, drenched in precum that had been oozing in buckets ever since Amanda decided to spice up his morning. He was half a second away from bursting like a hose when Amanda, moving at light speed in her enhanced condition despite the immense heft of her body, stood up, grabbed his dick by the root and lifted him up like a ragdoll only to bury the entire length of his dick inside her soaking womanhood in less than a tenth of a second.

Jack erupted inside his wife shooting a gallon of dense load she downed greedily with a proud smirk, enjoying her second meal of the day. She absorbed his nectar to the fullest as his waist kept shifting to digest the large intake. The fat, bulging veins throbbing over her crotch and inhumanly massive muscle belt revealed that her vaginal muscles were working to squeeze every last drop out of his dick without crushing it, not an easy task for muscles that could have effortlessly flattened a concrete pillar. Jack felt the suction power as if she were trying to suck his whole guts in, he was drowning in pain but that pain felt so right and just, there was nothing a man could take pride in more than to suffer for a woman's sexual bliss and she was the most amazing dream he could ever hope to fulfill.

She loosened the vise as soon as she had completely dried him out. Jack slid off Amanda and hit his back on the floor. The pain was temporarily paralyzing him. Now that she was standing, his wife looked even more frightening and exponentially more intimidating. The two thirds of her body that had been hidden under the bedcover stood before him, proud and enhanced as the rest of her, showing off the earthshaking masses of achingly bulging muscles that filled them to the extreme. Thighs twice the size of a barrel were twitching like cages too small for the feral beasts they were supposed to contain with quadriceps whose heads seemed to have undergone thousands of cycles of chemically-induced growth spurts and had turned her skin into a see-through veil of silk as they kept on shifting in their search for more room to grow into. No detail, no crevasse, no giant pulsing vessel on the flawless surface of those obscenely overdeveloped muscles could be hidden from sight without a single ounce of fat between their thunderous bulk and the thin skin. From Jack's point of view, their sheer size entirely hid Amanda's torso despite her height now above the eight-and-a-half-foot mark. Just as her quads loomed above him like a zeppelin eclipsing the entire sky, hamstrings like tigers in a prison of sticks and canvas pounced outward to complete the shape of thighs that could cast fear in the dead, rivaled below by ginormous calves whose clusters of striations angrily throbbed with the strength to casually propel Amanda's 4,000-pound zero-fat body into the stratosphere with a single leap.

He could feel his own insignificance just by looking at them. Not just her quads but all of Amanda's legs possessed a thickness so outlandish, a heft so ludicrous, a vigor and a brawn so ridiculously immense they seemed to be there to mock him now. Jack knew that a single strand of fibers from any one of those muscles was far stronger than his whole body. He had his own functioning man-sized skeleton, limbs, torso and head to move and yet an infinitesimal part of one of her muscles could have easily wiped the floor with him. She crushed a rock between her pecs but she could have just as easily done the same with a string of diamonds, and her thighs would have easily topped that. If she ever wanted to know what a liquid Jack looked like, she might have put him in there and give it the slightest squeeze.

Women were the stronger sex by a wide margin but not that wide. Being in the same room with a transformed demigoddess, breathing the same air, inhaling her scent, looking at her real eyes was an experience so rare, unique and, usually, fatal that man's evolution did not account for it. Jack was genetically unprepared to keep it together in front of Amanda's true face. When she wanted him to cum he had a purpose but now her mere presence was enough to mess up his brain chemistry. He was feeling an entire range of contrasting emotions simultaneously. Arousal, pride and fear but also guilt, shame, shock, reluctance.

Men learnt to serve and obey women as their first survival instinct. Whereas evolution chose females as the dominant, stronger sex that would hunt and provide developing their bodies accordingly, males were simply required to win the care and attention of a female. But as competition became fierce, a man would have needed to bolster his chances by genuinely making a woman's desires and priorities his own. Only then he could be reasonably sure to be chosen, protected and cared for as long as he lived, becoming socially defined as successful. Jack possessed all of these qualities otherwise a woman of Amanda's caliber would have never made him her property.

But the ominous archetype of the evolved, fully transformed woman exploding with incomprehensible levels of size, strength, speed, intellect and beauty standing before him wasn't the same Amanda as before. He couldn't hope to understand the thoughts or needs of a being that had transcended every biological limit. In her current state she was the ultimate lifeform, perfected to be invincible and unstoppable. Her mere presence not only paralyzed his body but also his thought processes, failing to read the super woman in the room as if she were a book in an unknown language.

"You know I never waste a protein snack, munchkin."

Amanda's voice resounded inside his head like an inner thought she transmitted telepathically. Her puffy, sexually-supercharged lips stayed perfectly still while her voice boomed like a thunder inside him. Timbre, pitch and volume didn't change, preserving their naturally sensual and gentle qualities, yet the sheer power and scope of Amanda's voice had been amplified to wipe everything else out. Like a tsunami of the mind, it purged Jack's residual thoughts, distractions, emotions and reverted it to a clean slate where only her commands existed. Her words would have shaped his actions like an input to a computer without any effort on her part.

"Now then, do you still believe I'm only a meager twenty times stronger than you?"

Amanda's crazy powerful muscles kept on rumbling and throbbing vigorously, draped with a thick, heavy network of massive veins. Each one of them seemed to breathe on its own, basking in their size and heft, working its way out of its confines in the hopeless task of quelling their unquenchable thirst for growth, eager to give their owner even more strength, even more reach. They were alive, bursting at the seams with more power than physically possible and only seeking more. All of Amanda's hugely muscular and inhumanly tall figure was shining with a visible aura surrounding it, a leakage from the overflowing energy coursing inside her.

Jack heard the floor cracking noisily beneath Amanda's dainty feet, the colossal weight of her hyper-dense musculature taking its toll on the polished wood. He couldn't take his eyes off her dazzling presence but felt cracks running under his back and past his head.

Amanda closed her eyes and every noise came to a sudden stop as if the world around her had been put on pause. She focused her will and began reverting back to her normal, usual form. Slowly but steadily her body was shrinking all over while her features were losing its supernatural appeal. Her aura ceased to shine, her head reclaimed mobility and so did her long mane of red hair freely loosened all over the upper torso once again while the reduced size and density of muscles returned to adhere to the laws of physics. Her frame eventually scaled back to her previous height, standing at 7'4".

Once the process had finished, Amanda opened her eyes. Their jade glow had returned to its lower intensity of before, closer to candlelight rather than to the shot of an energy cannon. She took a look around at the mess she had made.

"Well, I guess growing beats shrinking any day," her voice now coming from her mouth at its former, still commanding, power.

She flexed her limbs then performed a few splits and handstands to test her agility and accelerate the blood flow throughout her shredded, womanly muscles. The floor could now well support her 600-pound body, a weight within the upper tier for a well-built hunk of a woman yet a far cry from that of her hyper-dense, gigantic, transformed state.

The quick routine made the whirlwind of veins enveloping her stark naked muscles throb with even greater intensity. With a strut exuding the tremendous strength and beauty of her overwhelming femininity, she walked up to Jack and lifted him up by his armpits. He was still in a trance.

"Come on Jack, it's not the first time you've seen me at my best."

She placed him on the bed like an inanimate doll and snapped her fingers before his eyes to wake him up. To no avail.

"I suppose it's true when they say that even the best men cannot ever be equipped to withstand the presence of a demigoddess's true form."

Amanda grabbed his chin and kissed him long yet very gently. Her big, puffy lips surrounded his own and brushed against them with the softest touch. His boner had already come back at peak capacity through the hole on the front of his pants but she knew his loads would have been dry for a few hours more at least. Amanda laid his back on the bed and casually strutted to the door as if she was walking on an imaginary catwalk. Before leaving the room she turned to Jack one more time and said,

"Remember to clean up the mess and fix the floor when you come to. Oh, and if seeing my true form hits you this hard, I'd hate to know what happens were you to see Mother's."

[j2001]

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[nickolai]

I was fine with the length of the part 1.  My only complaint was with regards to FoS.  The women were obviously supremely powerful, but most feats of strength were via reference or anecdotal.  I would have preferred to see more lengthy and detailed depictions of women in situations were they exercised their immense, sometimes astronomical strength.  There were some, but most of the detailed content was dedicated to the muscle itself.  Now that may be the point.  You may chose to be more of a FMG writer than a FoS writer which is fine.  Believe me, I love muscle, but I really like detailed descriptions of the strength and invulnerability acts themselves. 

Many thanks for the great works and effort.

[j2001]

I was fine with the length of the part 1.  My only complaint was with regards to FoS.  The women were obviously supremely powerful, but most feats of strength were via reference or anecdotal.  I would have preferred to see more lengthy and detailed depictions of women in situations were they exercised their immense, sometimes astronomical strength.  There were some, but most of the detailed content was dedicated to the muscle itself.  Now that may be the point.  You may chose to be more of a FMG writer than a FoS writer which is fine.  Believe me, I love muscle, but I really like detailed descriptions of the strength and invulnerability acts themselves. 

Many thanks for the great works and effort.

Thank you for the detailed feedback! It's so incredibly hard to get any. Yes, I agree I'm definitely more of a FMG writer and this first chapter of Injustice 2 makes no exception. Even though I do prefer reading and writing about muscles rather than feats of strength, truth is I'm also better at it. I don't dwell much on FoS because I find them more difficult to write properly, I can only wish I had the language expertise of Xtreme Strength's Paul Smith whose stories had dozens of paragraphs of extremely detailed and well written descriptions of all sorts of destruction. I'm glad you could like my stories anyhow!

[Lupus753]

Great to see this continued. I'll tell you more after I've actually read it.

[jhunter]

Glad to see this story continue. I look forward to more, as this was a great follow up to the first. Look foward to more interactions to the environment and other aspects.

[j2001]

Great to see this continued. I'll tell you more after I've actually read it.

Glad to see this story continue. I look forward to more, as this was a great follow up to the first. Look foward to more interactions to the environment and other aspects.

Thank you guys, I'm glad you liked it!