Colossus Rising: The Brute Force of Amy, Parts 1 and 2

[Orange77]

Colossus Rising: The Brute Force of Amy
Part 1 - Birth of a Colossus
By orange1984blue (DeviantArt / orange1984blue)

Amy had always been the quiet one, the nerdy girl with a stack of vintage She-Hulk comics tucked under her arm, her brown pleated skirt swishing softly as she navigated the crowded halls of Westbridge High. At five-foot-three, she was petite, unassuming, her gray top hanging loosely over a frame that barely registered on anyone's radar. Her world was one of ink and paper, of gamma-irradiated heroines who smashed through panels with biceps the size of boulders. She adored them—Jennifer Walters, Faiza Hussain, even the obscure Mary "Bulk" Bronson from the indie runs of the '90s. But Amy herself? She was no heroine. Not yet.

That changed on a humid Tuesday afternoon in the school gymnasium. She'd ducked in to avoid the usual taunts from Chad, a sneering jock with a penchant for cutting remarks. Just last week, he'd cornered her by the lockers, his voice dripping with disdain: "What's with the twig arms, Comic Girl? You look like a breeze could snap you in half." The words had stung, burrowing into her ego like termites. She'd fled, cheeks burning, clutching her Sensational She-Hulk #34 to her chest.

Now, in the gym's storage room, she rummaged through a box of forgotten equipment, hoping to find a quiet corner to read. Her fingers brushed something cold—a small, unmarked vial tucked beneath a pile of sweat-stained towels. It glowed faintly, a sickly green shimmer that reminded her of gamma radiation from her comics. "Steroids, maybe?" she muttered, her curiosity piqued. She'd read about performance enhancers in Captain America lore—why not? With a shrug, she uncorked it and downed the contents in one reckless gulp. It tasted like lime and metal, sharp and electric on her tongue.

The change began almost instantly.

Her heart thudded, a drumbeat accelerating to a warlike rhythm. Heat surged through her veins, a wildfire igniting every nerve. She stumbled, clutching the edge of a weight rack, and then it happened—her body rebelled against its own limits. At first, it was subtle: a twitch in her calves, a tightening in her biceps. Then, inch by inch, she grew.

Her legs lengthened first, her five-foot-three frame stretching upward with a slow, relentless grace. She gasped as her brown pleated skirt, once comfortably loose, began to strain against her thighs. The fabric creaked, threads popping as her quads swelled, each muscle fiber thickening into cords of power. "Ooooh, fuuuuck," she moaned, much to her surprised. Whatever was happening inside her body was painful, but also... exquisite. Her thighs ballooned, inch by inch, from slender stems to gargantuan pillars, the skirt riding up and stretching to its absolute limit. The hem hovered dangerously high, barely containing the obscene might of her lower body.

Her arms followed suit. Her biceps, once thin and unremarkable, pulsed and expanded, each inch of growth tearing at the sleeves of her gray top. The fabric stretched taut across her chest as her pectorals hardened into slabs of steel, pushing her breasts—now fuller, heavier—into a provocative swell that tested the shirt's seams. "Rrrrrrrragh!" Another unexpected exclamation, followed by mewing like a kitten. Her expression of wild-eyed amazement spiked as threads snapped audibly, the gray material clinging to her like a second skin, outlining every ridge of muscle, every curve of her newly sculpted form. Her shoulders broadened, her spine straightened, and still she grew—five-foot-six, seven, eight, nine ... panting... panting ...six-foot-one—until, after five agonizing, exhilarating minutes, she towered at six-foot-four.

Amy stared at her reflection in a cracked gym mirror, her breath hitching. My God, she thought. Her nipples under her top flushing forward and upward, walleyed by firm crescent breasts on mighty pectorals. She was colossal, a goddess carved from marble and fury. Her thighs were twin monoliths, rippling with power as she shifted her weight. Her biceps, relaxed, were still larger than Chad's head, and when she flexed—oh, when she flexed—they peaked like mountains, veins snaking across their surface. Her skirt was a tattered banner of her former self, her top a shredded testament to her transformation. She ran a hand through her dark hair, now wild and voluminous, and grinned. The steroids hadn't just remade her body—they'd sharpened her mind, too. Words, facts, histories flooded her brain, a torrent of erudition that matched her physical might.

She loved it. Every inch of her new height, every ounce of her titanic strength. She was no longer the twig-armed Comic Girl. She was a titaness, a living echo of the heroines she'd worshipped.

And then she heard it—a familiar scoff from the gym's entrance. Chad stood there, arms crossed, his lip curled in disgust. "What the hell happened to you, freak? You look like a roided-up circus act."

Her grin widened, predatory. He didn't know it yet, but he'd just sealed his fate.

Amy turned slowly, her movements deliberate, each step a seismic event that sent tremors through the gym floor. Her thighs flexed, gargantuan and glistening with a faint sheen of sweat, the skirt's remnants fluttering like a war flag. Her biceps twitched, each muscle fiber a coiled spring ready to unleash havoc. At six-foot-four, she loomed over Chad, her shadow swallowing him whole. His bravado faltered, his eyes darting from her towering frame to the door, but he didn't run. Not yet.

"Freak, you say?" Her voice was a velvet blade, smooth and cutting, laced with an intelligence that hadn't been there before. "An interesting choice of words, Chad. Did you know that in the annals of comic history, the archetype of the powerfully muscular woman has been a symbol of liberation? Take Jennifer Walters, the Sensational She-Hulk, first appearing in 1980. A gamma-irradiated attorney who embraced her size, her strength, her sexuality. Or consider Big Barda, the New God warrior, whose seven-foot stature and raw power redefined femininity in the *Mister Miracle* series of '71. These women didn't shrink from their might—they reveled in it. As do I."

She took a step closer, her hips swaying with a hypnotic menace, the stretched fabric of her skirt groaning under the strain of her thighs. Chad swallowed hard, his bravado crumbling as she closed the distance. At six-foot-four, she was a wall of muscle and allure, her gray top barely containing the swell of her chest, her pecs flexing beneath like tectonic plates. She stopped inches from him, her breath warm against his face, her scent a mix of lime and raw power.

"You mocked me once," she purred, her tone dripping with seduction and threat. "Called me a twig. A breeze could snap me, you said. But now?" She flexed her right bicep, the muscle surging to an impossible size, veins pulsing like rivers. "Now, I could snap *you* with a flick of my wrist. And yet, I have something far more... entertaining in mind."

Chad's knees trembled, his voice a weak croak. "W-what are you gonna do?"

Amy tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that was equal parts sultry and sinister. "I'm glad you asked. First, I'll lift you—effortlessly, mind you—with one arm. My bicep alone could crush your ribs, but I'll restrain myself. I'll hold you aloft, let you dangle like a puppet, your feet kicking helplessly. Then, I'll press you against the wall, my thighs pinning you there, their sheer mass an inescapable vise. You'll feel every inch of my power, Chad, and you'll understand what it means to provoke a goddess."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, her lips brushing his ear. "And then, for my ultimate pleasure, I'll flex—slowly, deliberately—until the air leaves your lungs, until you're begging for mercy. Not because I need to hurt you, but because I want you to worship me. To see me as the titaness I am. A woman of muscle, of mind, of unyielding dominance. Like Titania from Secret Wars, who crushed her foes with both strength and seduction. Or Stunner, the virtual vixen who redefined power in Spider-Man. I am their legacy, Chad, and you? You're my plaything."

Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his shirt, and with a casual flex of her arm, she hoisted him off the ground. His feet dangled, his gasps sharp and panicked. Her bicep bulged, a mountain of muscle that made his struggles laughable. She pressed him against the gym wall, her thigh—gargantuan, unyielding—sliding forward to trap him. The heat of her body, the sheer weight of her presence, enveloped him, and his fear was palpable, intoxicating.

"Beg," she murmured, her voice a steamy caress, her eyes glinting with dark delight. "Beg, and I might let you kiss the ground at my feet."

[Orange77]

⚡ Support Saradas

Keep the archive alive with Bitcoin

1QDxcxUx8pnsZvauyVxTqaJrWkeNhQrPdK

Donate →

[Orange77]

Colossus Rising: The Brute Force of Amy
Part 2 - Colossus Unleashed
By orange1984blue (DeviantArt / orange1984blue)

The gym's fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across Amy's enormous frame as she pinned Chad against the wall. Her thigh, a monolith of muscle that dwarfed his torso, pressed into him with deliberate, crushing intent.

Chad flailed, his feet kicking uselessly, his face a mask of terror and confusion. "P-put me down, you freak!" he stammered, his voice a jock's grunt, all bravado stripped away.

Amy's lips curled into a smile, wicked and sultry, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam. She leaned in, her breath hot against his cheek, her voice a velvet whip laced with menace and intellect. "Freak? Oh, Chad, how quaintly reductive. Do you know the etymology of that word? From the Old English fric, meaning 'monstrous'—a term once reserved for beings of myth, of power beyond comprehension. I suppose it fits, doesn't it? I'm no longer the little twig you mocked, am I? No longer the five-foot-three waif you sneered at by the lockers. Look at me now—six-foot four, a titaness of muscle and mind, forged by a chemical alchemy you couldn't begin to fathom."

She shifted her grip, her bicep swelling further, veins pulsing like rivers across its peak. The sight of it—her arm alone larger than his head—sent a shiver through her, a thrill that tightened her chest and quickened her pulse. She was intoxicated by her own strength, her height, her sheer presence. The steroids hadn't just remade her body; they'd ignited something primal, something aggressively alluring that burned through her veins. She wanted to revel in it, to wield it, to make Chad feel every ounce of her power—and, oh, how she wanted him to want her back.

"Put you down?" she purred, her tone dripping with mockery and seduction. "Why would I do that when I can hold you here, helpless, and watch you squirm? You see, Chad, I've studied the greats—comic heroines who wielded their might with unapologetic glee. Take Titania, for instance, from Secret Wars #3, 1984. Mary MacPherran, a scrawny nobody until Doctor Doom's tech turned her into a 6-foot-6 powerhouse. She crushed the Thing's arm like it was tinfoil, all while smirking with that delicious blend of disdain and desire. Or Stunner—Angelina Brancale, Amazing Spider-Man #397, 1994—a virtual vixen whose digitized muscles could level buildings. These women understood power, Chad. They owned it. And now, so do I."

She lowered him slowly, her thigh sliding against his hips as she set him on the ground, but she didn't release him. Instead, she pressed closer, her chest brushing his, the taut fabric of her top groaning as her pecs flexed beneath. Her breasts, fuller and firmer from the steroids' wild alchemy, pushed against him, a provocative challenge. She could feel his breath hitch, his dumbstruck gaze darting from her face to the expanse of muscle that trapped him. "W-what... what are you?" he muttered, his jock brain scrambling for words.

"What am I?" Amy laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent heat curling through her core. "I'm your reckoning, Chad. I'm the girl you called weak, now strong enough to snap you in half. I'm the nerd you dismissed, now brilliant enough to dismantle your ego with words alone. And I'm the woman who's going to make you beg—beg for mercy, beg for release, beg to touch the body you once scorned."

She stepped back, giving him a moment to breathe, to take in the full spectacle of her. Her thighs, each a sculpted pillar of power, rippled as she shifted her weight, the skirt's remnants fluttering like a tease. Her biceps twitched, her shoulders broadened, and her height—God, her height—made her a towering inferno of muscle and allure. She ran her hands over her arms, her fingers tracing the contours of her own strength, and the act sent a shiver of delight through her. She was excited, her breath shallow, her pulse a drumbeat of arousal and dominance.

"See this?" she said, flexing both arms now, the biceps peaking into twin mountains that strained the air itself. "These aren't just muscles, Chad. They're monuments to my transformation. Each inch I've grown— five-foot three to six-foot-four, every glorious second of it—was a rejection of your insults. My thighs—" She slapped one, the sound echoing like a gunshot, the flesh barely yielding under her palm. "—could crush you like a walnut. My chest—" She arched her back, the gray top splitting further, revealing a canyon of cleavage atop pecs that could bench a truck. "—is a throne of power you'll never ascend. And my mind? Oh, Chad, the steroids didn't just bulk me up—they made me a genius. I could recite the entire history of female Hulks while I break you apart, piece by piece."

Chad's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You're... you're crazy, man. Let me go!"

"Crazy?" Amy's grin was feral, her excitement mounting as she closed the distance again. "No, Chad. I'm liberated. And you? You're my canvas. My plaything. My little musclehead toy." She grabbed him by the shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh—not enough to hurt, not yet, but enough to make him feel her control. With a casual flick of her wrists, she spun him around and shoved him toward the gym's weight rack. He stumbled, catching himself against the metal bars, and she stalked after him, her hips swaying with a menacing grace.

"Look at these," she said, gesturing to the weights—hundreds of pounds stacked in neat rows. "You used to flex with these, didn't you? Grunting like some primate, showing off for your buddies. Let's see how you like this." She bent down, her thighs flexing into obscene definition, and with one hand, she hefted a three-pound barbell as if it were a feather. She twirled it like a baton, her bicep bulging, her breath hitching with the thrill of it. "This is nothing to me now," she said, her voice a sultry growl. "But you? You're going to feel every ounce of what I can do."

She dropped the barbell with a deafening clang and grabbed Chad again, lifting him effortlessly overhead this time, her arms extended, her muscles gleaming under the lights. "Look at you," she taunted, her tone dripping with seductive venom. "Dangling like a rag doll. Not so tough now, are you? Not so big when I'm holding you up here, all six-foot-four of me, my biceps bigger than your dreams."

Chad flailed, his voice a panicked yelp. "Put me down! Please, I—I didn't mean it!"

"Oh, you meant it," Amy said, lowering him slowly, her eyes locked on his. "You meant every word when you called me weak. Little. Pathetic. But I'm not that girl anymore, Chad. I'm this—" She flexed her entire body, a symphony of muscle that made the air hum with her power. "—and you're going to worship it."

She set him down, but before he could bolt, she pinned him again, this time with her chest. She pressed herself against him, her pecs flexing, her breasts a tantalizing pressure that made his breath catch. She could feel his heartbeat, rapid and erratic, and it fueled her. She was attracted to him—God help her, she was. Beneath the menace, beneath the revenge, there was a heat, a longing that the steroids had amplified into something feral. She wanted him to want her, to crave her, to break under the weight of her desire.

"Here's what's going to happen," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear, her voice a steamy cascade of intellect and lust. "I'm going to show you feats of strength that'll make your head spin. I'll bend steel with my bare hands—watch." She stepped back, grabbed a metal bar from the rack, and with a slow, deliberate flex of her biceps, bent it into a U-shape, her muscles rippling, her breath hitching with arousal. "See that? That's what I can do now. And this—" She lifted a five hundred-pound weight stack with one arm, holding it aloft as her thigh muscles tensed, her skirt tearing further. "—is what I'll use to pin you down."

Chad gaped, his jock brain short-circuiting. "Holy... crap, dude. You're... you're insane."

"Insane?" Amy tossed the weights aside, the crash shaking the floor, and advanced on him again. "No, Chad. I'm alive. And you're going to feel it. I'll wrap these thighs around you—" She flexed them, the muscles swelling into granite slabs. "—and squeeze until you're gasping. Not enough to break you—just enough to make you mine. Then I'll lift you again, press you overhead, let you dangle while I flex, while I talk—because I love talking, Chad. Did you know that in She-Hulk #1, 2004, Jennifer Walters bench-pressed a semi-truck to impress a date? Not to mention the fact that she lifted and hurled a Volkswagen Bug in her premiere issue back in 1980. I could do that now. I could press you like a toy, and I will."

She grabbed him once more, her hands roaming now, tracing his chest, his arms, her touch both menacing and possessive. "But here's the surprise," she said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I don't just want to punish you. I want you to feel me. To crave me. To beg for me." She spun him around, pressed her chest against his back, and wrapped one massive arm around his neck—not choking, but holding, her bicep a warm, unyielding cage. "I'm attracted to you, Chad. Always have been. That's why your words cut so deep. But now? Now I'm going to take what I want."

She turned him to face her, her height looming, her muscles a landscape of power and allure. "Here's my climax, my revenge," she said, her eyes blazing. "I'm going to kiss you—hard, deep, with all the strength of these lips—" She licked them, slow and deliberate. "—and then I'll lift you again, pin you to the wall, and grind against you with these thighs until you're screaming my name. Not out of fear, but out of need. You'll beg, Chad. You'll beg to touch me, to taste me, to surrender to me. And when you do—when you break—I'll have my pleasure. My ultimate, shuddering, muscular climax."

She didn't wait for his response. She crashed her lips against his, a kiss that was all fire and dominance, her strength pouring into him. Then, with a growl of delight, she hoisted him again, her biceps flexing, her thighs pressing, her body a furnace of desire and power. She ground against him, slow and deliberate, her breath ragged, her voice a torrent of sexy, intelligent taunts. "Feel that, Chad? That's what a real woman can do. That's what I am now. Say it—say my name."

"A-Amy!" he gasped, his voice breaking, his resistance crumbling.

"Louder!" she demanded, her thighs tightening, her chest heaving, her climax building as she reveled in her dominance, her attraction, her revenge.

"AMY!!" he shouted, and with that, she let go—let go of her restraint, her fury, her longing—and rode the wave of her power to a shattering, steamy peak, spasming. Her cries echoed through the gym as Chad surrendered, body and soul, to the titaness he'd unleashed.

Coming Soon
Part 3 - Colossus Ascendant

[brave_archer]

Can't believe there aren't any comments yet for this one. Loving the story so far, and dig all the comic book references too. Titania and Stunner definitely made an impression on my young mind back in the day! Looking forward to more. K+

[Orange77]

Thanks! I'll share Part 3 here, hopefully soon. Will post it first at DeviantArt (orange1984blue).

For her character, there's a lot of examples/references over more than half a century that she can site - not that she's memorized all of them, but her knowledge is vast and specific. Thought it would be a cool thing for a character to do.

She can also put the references to use, and now even act them out. For example she might think, "She-Hulk scaled a building's brick wall with her bare hands and jumped off, snatching a zooming Iron Man out of mid-air! Why can't I catch someone that way?" Maybe she will.