Beth Only Better

[Orange77]

Beth Only Better
Part 1 - Spiked
By orange1984blue (DeviantArt / orange1984blue)

The kitchen was a haven of morning stillness, sunlight weaving through the blinds in languid golden ribbons, warming the cool tiles beneath my bare feet. I, Terry, stood at the counter, my hand trembling as I stirred Beth's latte, the spoon feeling like a lead anchor. My heart pounded, not from the coffee's steam curling upward in delicate tendrils, but from the secret I'd just committed.

A tiny vial of AmpUltra—its pearlescent liquid now dissolved into the frothy mug, was my betrayal. I'd ordered it three weeks ago, driven by a craving I couldn't silence—a reckless impulse born from late-night scrolls through websites showcasing muscular women.

Now, as the liquid vanished into the latte's creamy depths, guilt twisted in my gut like a blade. But desire—darker, hungrier, more insistent—kept my lips sealed, my breath shallow. Life for me happens in slow-motion now.

Beth swept into the room, her short blonde hair bouncing like a burst of sunlight, her blue eyes sparkling with the happy-go-lucky glow that made her, at twenty-seven, the kind of person who could charm a stranger with a smile. Her voice, bright and melodic, filled every corner of the kitchen.

"Terry, you won't believe what I saw on my walk this morning!" she chirped, her petite frame—fit but soft, with gentle curves—moving with restless energy. "There was this dog, right, and it was chasing its tail like it was auditioning for a circus. I swear, I stood there for, like, ten minutes, just laughing!"

She giggled, her laughter a cascade of joy, as she grabbed the latte, her fingers brushing mine, warm and fleeting. She took a long sip, sighing contentedly. "Mmm, you're too good to me, Ter. Seriously, best boyfriend ever." I forced a smile, my throat tight as a vice. "Anything for you, Beth."

The words tasted like ash, bitter and heavy. She had no idea what I'd done, no clue I'd spiked her drink because of my obsession. I loved muscular women—craved the sight of sculpted arms, powerful thighs, veins tracing strength like living artwork.

Beth was perfect in every other way: her laughter, her kindness, her endless chatter that could brighten the darkest day. But she didn't fit that one mold, the one that haunted my dreams. I'd confessed it a year and a half ago, after she caught me mesmerized by a screen of ripped women flexing their biceps.

"It's just a thing I'm into," I'd mumbled, my face burning, secretly hoping she'd lean into it, maybe hit the gym for me. She'd giggled, unfazed, her voice light as air.

"That's so cute, Terry," she said, apathetically. "Everyone's got their quirks, right?"—And made it clear. She wasn't about to bulk up.

It was fair, reasonable, her choice. Yet my fantasies grew louder, painting her with arms that bulged a little, legs that said: fitness, a body that radiated vitality. I loved her—God, I loved her to my core—but I wanted more.

She sipped again, oblivious, her chatter flowing like a river. "Anyway, I was thinking we could try that new taco place tonight. Jess from work says their guacamole is, like, life-changing. What do you think? Or maybe pizza? Oh, but tacos sound so good right now!"

Her smile was pure sunshine, her demeanor so light it almost stung, knowing what I'd set in motion. I nodded, my eyes fixed on the latte as it disappeared, my stomach churning with guilt. I'd crossed a line, a point of no return, and the weight of it settled like a stone in my chest.

That evening, we sprawled on the couch, takeout containers scattered around us, the apartment filled with Beth's laughter. Her stories tumbled over each other—about a coworker's disastrous haircut, a song stuck in her head, the way the sunset had painted the sky in hues of pink and gold. She was a whirlwind, her slim legs curled beneath her, her body healthy but not chiseled. We jogged together sometimes, ate clean, stayed active—I'd been a swimmer in high school, so I had a leaner edge—but Beth's figure was soft, inviting, not the hard lines I dreamed of.

As she talked, her hands gesturing wildly, I listened, guilt gnawing deeper, a shadow I couldn't shake. What if the drug hurt her? What if it changed her even slightly in a way I couldn't predict? But the darker part of me—the part that had clicked "purchase" on that shady website, lured by promises of "one dose" and "no side effects"—whispered hope. What if it worked? What if it made her ...better than this?

A few days later, I woke to the sound of Beth's voice, bright and vibrant, cutting through the haze of sleep. It wasn't her usual groggy murmur—she was already awake, sitting up in bed, looking adorable in her yellow cotton nightgown.

She stretched her arms toward the ceiling. Her blonde hair was a tousled halo, catching the dawn light filtering through the curtains, her tank top hugging her frame, outlining the gentle curves of her torso.

"Terry, holy crap, I feel so good today!" she chirped, her voice bubbling with energy, her fingers wiggling like they couldn't stay still. "Like, my whole body's, like, buzzing. Is that even normal?" She flexed her arms, her small biceps twitching under her skin, a faint vein flickering across her forearm—new, delicate, but undeniable, like a whisper of something stirring beneath the surface. "Look at that! Am I getting all buff or what?" She laughed, her happy-go-lucky grin wide, but her eyes lingered on her arm, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. "Or maybe it's just the light playing tricks, right? What do you think?"

I blinked, my pulse spiking, a jolt of adrenaline chasing away the last of my sleep. Was it starting? Already? "You look... amazing," I said, my voice catching, guilt stabbing me like a cold knife. Her arm did look firmer, the bicep a touch rounder, the vein a subtle promise of change, pulsing faintly under her smooth skin.

She hopped out of bed, bouncing on her toes, her chatter relentless, a stream of excitement that filled the room. "I don't know, Ter, it's like my arms are all tingly, like they're begging to move. God, I feel like I could run forever or, like, lift a freaking car!" She spun toward me, her tank top riding up, revealing her stomach—flat but now with the faintest hint of abs, a shadow of definition where there'd been only softness yesterday.

"What do you think?" she said, looking thoughtful. "Am I turning into one of those gym girls you're so obsessed with?" Her tone was teasing, her smile still sunny, but there was a new spark in her eyes—confidence, curiosity, a glimmer of something bolder, less carefree.

I laughed, but it came out uneven, my stomach twisting with guilt. "You're perfect, Beth. You always are." The words felt hollow, knowing what I'd done, knowing I'd set this change in motion without her consent.

"Perfect, huh?" She smirked, stepping closer, her scent—clean sweat and a hint of vanilla from her lotion—wrapping around me like a warm embrace. This is the Beth I love. Her voice dropped, playful but with a new edge, a willful note that hadn't been there before. "Maybe I could be more than perfect."

She climbed onto the bed, moving with a grace that felt different, more deliberate, and straddled me, her thighs pressing against my hips, firmer than I remembered, muscles tightening subtly beneath her skin. "I feel so fucking alive today," she murmured, her hands roaming my chest, nails grazing lightly, sending shivers cascading through me. "Like my body's waking up, Ter."

Did she just swear?

Blonde hair framing her face tickled my cheek. "Wanna wake up with me?" Her grin was still bright, but her touch was hungrier, her fingers lingering, teasing, a new assertiveness in her grip that made my breath catch.

My pulse raced, desire surging, guilt trailing close behind like a shadow I couldn't outrun. "Beth, you sure?" I asked, my voice thick, torn between the heat of her closeness and the weight of my betrayal.

"Oh, I'm fucking sure," she purred, leaning down, her blonde hair now brushing my face, her lips hovering, warm and teasing, her breath a soft promise. "I feel like a damn firecracker, Ter. Let's make some sparks."

Her words were bold, the light swear startling me—Beth rarely cursed, her happy-go-lucky vibe usually all giggles and sunshine, a cascade of joy that needed no edge. But now, her eyes glinted with mischief, her body moving with purpose, a playful dominance creeping into her smile.

She kissed me, slow and deep, her tongue exploring with a languid confidence, setting a rhythm that burned through me. Her hands gripped my shoulders, her biceps tensing, the faint vein on her forearm more pronounced now, pulsing under her skin like a quiet heartbeat. "God, my arms feel so good," she whispered, pulling back, flexing them above me, her muscles rounding slightly, a touch fuller than yesterday, the biceps peaking with a new firmness that made my mouth go dry.

"Look at these, Ter. Are they bigger? I swear they're, like, harder." She squeezed her fists, her forearms tightening, veins blooming delicately across them, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that caught the morning light. "Fuck, it's hot, right? I feel like I could pin you down and you'd love every second."

It was obvious something was revving-up inside her. I nodded, my throat tight, desire and guilt colliding in a storm. My sometimes faulty memory plays with the dream - or was this real? - that her arms were changing—subtle but undeniable, the biceps more defined, the veins a quiet promise of growth, tracing her skin like delicate rivers.

And her height—she seemed taller. Did the top of her head just elevate a bit? Maybe an inch? Maybe she stood on her tiptoes. Did her legs stretch longer? What's certain is they pressed against me, and her presence was somehow more substantial. It unnerved me, the reality of what I'd done sinking in like a stone, but her heat was overwhelming, pulling me under.

"You're incredible," I managed, my hands finding her waist, feeling the firmness under her nightgown, the faint tightening of her core.

"Damn right I am," she laughed, her lips moving over mine. Her voice was richer, less carefree, more willful, a queen waking to her power.

A peck to my lips and she leaned back, arching her chest higher, bringing her soft yellow nightgown's bodice to fore. God, those nipples. Was her chest fuller now? Her pecs hinting at definition, veins tracing faintly across them like whispers of strength. The nightgown's skirt slid higher, offering a glimpse of black lace panties.

"I'm sure feeling naughty this morning," she teased, grinding against me, slow and deliberate. Murmuring to herself, I thought I her say, "Ride him all day." Her thighs tensed, muscles tightening beneath her skin, a faint vein snaking along one, pulsing softly. Her fingers digging in my hips, scrubbed her crotch with increasing pressure across my chest.  "My legs—God, they feel so fucking strong today.

Beth guided my hand to her thigh, "Feel this, boy." The muscle was harder, more pronounced, her skin warm and slick with sweat, the vein a subtle marker of change. Her moan was soft, her pleasure building, her eyes locked on mine, blue and fierce. Looking at her thigh, she flexed, her rectus femoris inflating. Her lovely eyes instantly rolled, eyelashes fluttering. "I love this musc... aaacckk!!...fuck!" she gasped, "muuss..eeuurrackahah!" a wild thread of saliva springing from her mouth. She tried to say "Muscle" twice but the word was cut and twisted into a carnal splutter, unruly, like a climax hitting hard.

I'd thought her body was revving-up, but this was next level. She was trembling, her eyes glazed and still ogling her seemingly more muscular thigh— her breath hitching—her joy raw but restrained, a wave of ecstasy that left her glowing. An orgasm stabbed her brain and I hadn't so much as fingered her. I know that sounds crass, but it's true. She was in a post-orgasm dream-state. Sliding from underneath her, moving sideways, I attempted to get off the bed grab a towel.

Beth swiftly turned to me, clutching my arm with a hand that felt like a vice. She brandished a playful smile, inching closer. Her resolve grew, a new edge that thrilled and unnerved me. "You're mine!" she hissed through clenched teeth, "Mine!" whirling around, and shoving me facedown back to the bed. Jumping on my back, her nightgown flowing as if wrapped about a graceful demon, she positioned both her knees on my shoulder blades, forearms landing next to my ears. It was then I saw veins—pulsing along her forearms, pumping the AmpUltra that would carve my girl into something else.

Then she made her move.

Maybe she'd been watching Olympic wrestling on TV. It felt calculated and it was fast. She lunged forward, her smile flashing past my eyes, her blonde hair whipping around, and hand-to-hand she forced me to the bed.

Releasing my hands, she pried hers between my stomach and the mattress, attempting to roll me over. She wanted me on my back. Her movements were slow and torturous, her moans louder. Her body arching, sweat beading on her skin and catching the light like tiny diamonds.

My shoulder blades touched the mattress. She got me where she wanted, then wrapped her legs around my chest, she grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the side of my head.

Her next move was even more memorable, probably because of the pain. She shimmied further up my chest and shoved her Victoria's Secret, black-pantied crotch under my chin. Yup, there I was, chin-to-crotch - the most wonderful present a girl can give.

There was a pause as we stared at each other. Me looking up at her glistening, elated face, and Beth—breathing heavily, intimidating with a hint of a smile. I don't know how long it was, but the only sound was our breathing. We stayed that way, staring at each other, processing what she'd done.

"I feel so powerful it's making me crazy," she said, ending the breathy silence."I can't explain how good that felt." She flexed her right bicep and it rose. Beth gasped at the sight. Its swell was enough. "My God! Ohhh,"Beth's eyes rolled back. Her second climax came faster, her voice breaking, her strength... intoxicating. Her thighs clamped tighter, muscles flexing. She was getting off on using her muscles! No question about it now.

"Goddamn, that was so fucking good," she panted, recovering. Her grin wicked, her personality shifting—less sunny, more commanding. Beth told me later she felt at that moment like a woman claiming her throne.

At the time all I was thinking of was that wrestling move she did, pinning me down on the bed like that. And her victory flex. And that sexy look on her face when she climaxed. Rewinding those images over and over, my own pleasure center blasted-off like a rocket. That thick cock of mine having risen over my waistband, anted-up and fired, launching streams at the underside of Beth's breasts. My mortar launched shell after shell of arching white trails, tapping and bursting like fireworks on and around her cleavage, dampening her nightgown. God, it was intense! A shared moment that left me dizzy, and forever mentally tethered to her feminine form.

By the look on Beth's face after the fireworks faded, I couldn't tell if she was still delighted or now annoyed. I'd uncontrollably scatter-shot her expensive nightgown with my cum. Was it one of her favorites? "Beth, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I could..."

Grunting, she slid her visibly damp crotch to my chin, those black panties smacking into my mouth—she punched me with her crotch? That was a new one— and leaned in. The cum-saturated cotton-covered underside of her boobs touched my nose. My God, her breasts—even fuller now?—-they looked ready to pop from her top.

Beth's sweaty, glowing skin was inescapably inviting. Her wonderful tight, round, bouncy breasts... a sight... a godsend.

Her breath on my face was warm and forceful, "Goddam, you're a fire hydrant," she chucked. She repositioned herself, pressing her crotch harder against my chin. Her eyes moved in to meet mine, mere inches away, and her expression soured. Her eyebrows collapsed inward, nostrils flaring. Lord, she was gorgeous. I must say, anger has a way of making adorable women ultra-magnetic. It's like being attracted to fire. Such irony.

This close, I noticed veins rise on Beth's neck, trembling in stark relief, pulsing to her jawline. A low, rumbling growl rose from her throat, escaping clenched teeth. I imagine it was delivered and fueled by those veins. Hands-down the sexiest sound I've ever heard from her.

If I took a lie detector test, this truth would pass. Blue eyes-to-blue-eyes with Beth, I had a front-row seat and saw this happen. The AmpUltra in her system WENT. OFF. Her irises detonated. They grew a little bigger, a little brighter. As God is my witness, that happened.

She spasmed as if she had Tourette's, spitting expletives, "God! ...Motherfucking!... Fuck!...," stabilizing herself on my chest, "Fucking!... Cunt!... Bitch!"  She yelled words I'd never heard her say.

Her legs squeezed harder. Then with deep breaths, she slowly regained her senses and settled. She was heavier. All around her body she was thicker. Her lady love juice dribbled down my neck, glistening little rivers of it.

Beth took stock of her nightgown and frowned. Beyond being wet with our fluids, her new concern was how tight it felt. It wouldn't be long before its fabric gave up contenting with the fullness of her upper body.

She growled. Her deepest yet.

"Time for Mommy to take my tight fuckin' nightgown to the cleaners," she said, fingering its neck's lace trim. "Or, maybe" she smiled, looking downward in thought, "take a deep breath and set these lovely ladies free." 

She inhaled deeply, her breasts rising, expanding her chest cavity.

I still can't get over the swearing.

Coming Soon
Part 2

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Beth Only Better
Part 2 - Iron Nightmare
By orange1984blue (DeviantArt / orange1984blue)

The bed was cold and empty without Beth. I stirred awake, my hand fumbling across the sheets. The alarm clock's digital numbers glowed: 5:30 AM. A rhythmic clang echoed from the basement, metal to metal. This was Beth's morning routine now. She was there on schedule. Lifting, groaning, lifting.

It was three weeks after I slipped Beth the AmpUltra drug that her lifting had become, for lack of a more appropriate word ... insane. The past month was a feverish transformation of her body and our basement - once a space for forgotten junk, now a quality gym with racks, bars, and heavy plates. Beth ditched the local gym, calling it an "unnecessary hassle" to drive four miles round-trip when she could conveniently and now easily push iron at home.

Her schedule was strict: 5:00–7:00 AM, noon–1:00 PM, 5:00–7:00 PM, with each session focusing on a different muscle group. Her recovery was as impressive as her developing body. She ate like a madwoman — steak, rice, and greens. The grocery bills climbed, but we could afford it. Working from home gave her the freedom to structure her life around her new desire: Her physique.

Unshackled from bodyweight exercises, Beth's gains were more than both of us expected. Once, after an excruciating barbell curl, she looked at her swollen bicep with intense admiration and I swear I heard her whisper, "Impossible."

I'd say that for a woman, or really anyone, Beth's growth was phenomenal. Even a genetically blessed man would've gawked. She stayed lean, but she was all-around sturdier, thicker - and fit, as if her body was imbued with a lot more solid weight. Her shoulders were boulders, striated and broad. Her abs were engraved, its lines flanked by obliques that impressed. Her legs were thick with sinew, rippling with every step. Her sharp calves stood out. Her biceps and triceps swelled with volume, forearms corded with muscle. Her pecs broadened into thick slabs, their fullness lifting her gorgeous breasts. Beth wasn't just looking bigger — she was strong.

I dragged myself out of bed, eyes heavy, and shuffled downstairs to ask her to keep the noise down. The basement door was cracked, and there she was, mid-set doing dumbbell chest presses, her breaths ragged, tits straining her sports bra as she completed her last rep. The weights crashed to the floor, and she sprang up, flexing her arms and pecs in the mirror. Her muscles gleamed, and she grinned like she did after we fucked last night and she left me begging.

"Hey, babe," I said, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "Can you keep the noise down? I'm trying to sleep up there."

"Terry!" Beth's voice was bright, but her eyes stayed locked on her reflection, flexing harder, biceps rounding. "Sorry, these babies are so fun to work. Got carried away."

Releasing her flex and exhaling, she hesitated, looking down, "Woah!, this pump's got me wet." Then her eyelids fluttered. "I...I mean sweat...ing."

Something was happening beyond her control. Slow and sensual, her breath hitched like she was riding the edge of something primal. She trembled, "My...ah...mmmmmh," her lower abdominals vibrating.

Did the tight spandex at her groin just darken? She leaned forward a little, moaning, and turned away before I could confirm what I thought I saw.

I leaned against the doorframe, half-dead tired, half-nonplused. "Just... close the door next time, yeah? I need my shut-eye."

"My bad," she said breathlessly. She was embarrassed, if only for a second. With her hands over her groin, I could see that her eyes were still locked on her biceps. She saw veins rising into clear relief. She was mesmerized. She composed herself. "I'll keep it quiet, promise." Her voice sounded deeper. "Let me finish this."

"Thanks, go crush it," I think I said. I was too tired to process all I'd just seen. Her angular tricep bulked, her arm urgently stiffening and twisting, her hand unseen. Was she scrubbing herself?

Beth turned to me slowly, her eyes narrowing, her arm undulating with intensity. "Oh, I will," she purred, "catch you later," and shot me a coitish smile and wink.

As I retreated upstairs my very tired mind realized that that wink was... more than a wink. It was forthright ... filthy ... promising. A feminine predation. My manhood responded. Beth's intent was unquestionable. It was in her eyes.

In bed, on the edge of sleep and with a hard-on like a crowbar, her wink and voice invaded me. Its audiovisual seared into my dream, wherein once little Beth got bigger and stronger and so horny that she ravaged me - her elegant and voluminous muscles gowing bigger and bigger as she fucked me silly.

Finishing in my dream, she stood and proceeded with what I'll describe as an iron nightmare of domination. She hoisted a barbell and wedged it under me, bending the thick pole around my waist like it was taffy, then others around my ankles and writs. She stood over me, tall and proud, admiring her handy work, cooing to herself after this demonstration of her newfound strength. She then swarmed over my lancing cock and fucked me again. I didn't hold back, thrusting upward into this superwoman to the best of my bound ability. Needless to say, but I will anyway... my bed sheets were wet upon waking.

My alarm started beeping at 7:00 AM, a pedantic wake-up call. I groaned, checked my phone for messages, hauled myself out of bed, and nearly collided with Beth in the hallway. She was fresh from her morning routine. Sweat coated her. Her muscles were swollen and glistening, with veins like wires. Her eyes locked onto mine and she swayed closer. I swear it felt like being hunted. Without a word, she shoved me against the wall, locking her lips onto mine and invading my mouth with her tongue exploring.

She surfaced for air. I gulped for some. "I want you, Terry," she growled between kisses, her voice low and raw. Her eyes appeared downright evil. "Right fucking now!"

I couldn't believe she swore again but she sure as hell did, and with authority.

Beth shoved me into the bathroom, sliding off her damp tank top as I fumbled with my cum-stained boxers. We stumbled into the shower, water pouring over us, and she took control. I was being woman-handled. Her hands were everywhere in a frenzy—gripping my ass, my shoulders, my cock—all while I tried to keep pace, stroking her warm thick frame. Her biceps flexed under my fingers. God damn she was hard! She pinned me down against those yellow tiles, mounting me, her hips grinding. Her fury made my head spin. Beth was switched-on, her eyes wide, her smile menacing. She humped my cock with increasing ferocity, like she was staking a claim. The sound of her feminine grunting was enough for me to blow my load but I held back. This was next level girly aggression. Her moves were Alpha moves. Beta Beth was long gone. Her arms lifted me slightly, pulling me in deeper. I was a sex toy in her grip.

Beth pounded me mercilessly for a full minute. She was a machine. Her eyes taunted me. Ravishing. Staring daggers. She was immovable, taking my return thrusts, strands of her blonde hair dancing around her beautiful, ecstatic face as she moaned.

Then, looking beyond me... she spasmed, hard, her nails digging into my back. I fired my load up and into her, equally hard, and finished...barely able to catch my breath.

But Beth wasn't done. Growling, she grabbed my hand, guiding it to her pussy. "Don't you stop," she hissed, using my fingers like a dildo to chase another climax. Her vice-like grip was a reminder of who controlled this situation. She leaned her sweaty forehead closer to mine, wet hair sticking to her adorable face, her lovely round trapezoid muscles rising higher. My vision filled with her powerful, beautiful agony. She spasmed, growling at me, eye to eye, for how long I don't recall. Wiith her teeth clenched, she spittled a gritty "Mother fucker!" into my face as she spasmed again ... harder, her eyes rolling up and back - Hours later she said she did that because she felt a new and insatiable desire to show me who's boss. She too wondered what's been happening to her mind, especially in the heat of sex.

We finished showering, still groping, her hands lingering on my ass as we toweled off. Was she a little taller? We parted ways, knowing we'd bump nasties again tonight; or, in her case, pound my nasties. I hoped I'd recover in time. This proven dominance of her's was unquestionably addicting for the both of us.

The day dragged, my mind replaying Beth's body, her strength, her sweaty blonde hair and her filthy mouth. This is not Beth, I thought. This is a demon.

I got home at 6:00 PM, my cock already twitching at the thought of her evening workout. This was my favorite ritual. While she trained, I'd lift a little, but mostly I'd watch. Her body had improved by beyond my expectations. All she knew was, whatever was happening to her ... she wanted more. She loved it.

While lifting, my mind wandered to two days prior. She'd caught me drooling over her muscles and really leaned into it, flexing for me, undeniably reveling in how her own body turned her on. She was as much her own lover as mine. We were in very strange territory.

Tonight, Beth was doing pull-ups with a 70-pound plate strapped to her waist. Her lats flared, shoulders bulging as she steadily pumped out reps. I counted thirteen before she dropped, grunting low, her face flushed with effort, sweat dripping down her neck. I quietly walked up behind her, kissing her shoulder, my hands sliding over her slick back, feeling the ridges of muscle.

"You're a tigress," I murmured, kneading her lats.

"I am," she said confidently, leaning into my touch, her voice thick with pride. "But hands off, I'm in the zone."

"Yes, ma'am," I grinned, grabbing dumbbells for my own set. She moved to the rowing machine. I finished my lateral raises, but my eyes kept drifting to her. In one minute Beth had that machine in overdrive. She was unflagging for at least twenty minutes, her rows slowing but relentless. Her sports bra strained, her abs flexing with every pull, a sheen of sweat making her glow.

When Beth finished, the silence was awkward. She was muscle and sweat. She stood, panting, her chest heaving. Then she looked to the squat rack—300-pounds loaded. My max. My stomach twisted.

"You squatted this?" I asked, voice tight.

"Yup," she said casually, now curling 50-pound dumbbells.

I swallowed hard, realizing Beth was now as strong as me, and maybe stronger. Her biceps swelled with each curl, veins popping. She was lost in it, gasping "Yes!" with every rep, her eyes lustful, pain and pleasure intertwining. She hit failure at twenty-two reps, dropped the weights with a clang, and flexed her biceps, staring at them like they were her lovers. Then she hit a most muscular pose, growling, "Mmmmm.... Fuuuck yeah!" Her pecs and traps expanded, pushing veins into high-definition.

Not gonna lie. That did it. Her most muscular flex had my cock straining against my shorts, a titanic bulge extending almost to the waistband. More truth... She caught me staring at her. She noticed my painful rager and smirked, running her hands over her sweaty abs, tracing the ridges. "Like what you see?" she said, inhaling, broadening herself. "You like this ... bigger ... muscular ... me?"

"Um ...yy .. yes ..ss," I stammered, my voice hoarse.

She stalked toward me, looming. Isn't that what a predator does? Jesus, she's a female predator! "Good," she said. "Workout's done. Time for real fun."

Before I could react Beth lunged, shooting her hands around my butt, scooping me up. I reacted by wrapping my thighs around her waist and arms over her shoulders. We kissed, her muscles flexing under me, hard and hot. "One more exercise," she whispered, carrying me toward the climbing wall we'd installed last week.

Beth's eyes burned with feral intensity as she led me to our new apparatus - a Swedish Ladder. A twelve-foot-high spread of bars, essentially a wide ladder. It's defining feature is it's top-most bar. Every bar inclined backward, forcing the climber away from the wall as they ascend, until reaching the top bar, which extends further outward. It's like a chin-up bar that's placed high and away from the top of a ladder.

Beth loved this challenge. Initially it was a contest. But now, with her increased strength, it was more for show. She stretched, luxuriating. "God, I feel sooo good, I wanna feel what my body can really do." Her lips curled into a smirk, her eyes raking over me. "Screw that simple pull-up bar," she growled, her voice low and dominant. "I'm climbing this and you're coming with me."

My pulse jackhammered, my cock already twitching at the thought. "You're serious?" My voice in awe, my expression in disbelief.

"Dead serious," she said, stepping up to the wall. Her tank top clung to her, outlining her deltoids, her pecs, and the lines of her abs. "Let's see how strong I am. Get on my back."

There was only silence. She turned to me and roared. "Now!!"

I jumped and obeyed, climbing onto her, my arms looping around her shoulders, legs hooking around her waist. Her body was radiating heat, her muscles hard as steel beneath her sweat-slick skin. I pressed my chest against her back, my groin nestling into the firm curve of her ass, and good God! the contact sent a jolt through me. Her scent enveloped me—musk, power, and something primal that made me dizzy. She gripped a low bar, her fingers like steel calipers, tightening, and began her ascent.

Blonde hair fell across my face and chest as she leaned her head back and pulled us up. The power of her first pull and biceps swelling amazed me. My feet left the floor. She hoisted our combined weight, maybe more than three hundred pounds, and reached for the next bar. Higher. And Higher. Hand over hand. Each of her pulls was a calculated act of dominance.

It was quite frankly superhuman. Her lats flared, traps bulging as she hauled our combined weight upward. Her biceps popped, veins snaking across them, thick and pulsing, her forearms corded with muscle that rippled with every grip. I clung to her, my hands digging into her deltoids, feeling them swell with the pump, hard as granite yet alive with power. Her ass flexed against my cock, and I groaned, my erection pressing into her dimpled Triangle of Marcille, undeniable, a traitor to my restraint.

"Fuck, Beth," I gasped, my voice hoarse, "your muscles... they're unreal." I couldn't stop touching her, tracing the ridges of her traps, the striations in her shoulders. Every flex was highly erotic. Her movement and strength defied what I knew about her. "How are you doing this!?"

She grunted, her voice thick with exertion and arousal. Then a low, dirty chuckle escaped her. "Didn't know," she gasped, "I was this strong." Her words were punctuated by sharp inhales as she pulled us higher, her body trembling. "It feels so ...good. My muscles... fuck, yes ... they're on .... fire." There was a note of surprise in her voice, a thrill at discovering her own capabilities, like she was falling deeply in love with her strength.

Halfway up, Beth paused, hanging from a bar, her body quivering under the strain. Her veins throbbed, a roadmap of power across her arms and neck, her face flushed red, sweat dripping from her brow to the floor below. The smell of her hair, the slickness of her neck.

I held on tight. Then before my eyes, under my gripping hands, her muscles grew. They swelled with blood, pulsing. I tried to get a better grip. Her lats and biceps were warm, undulating, inflating rocks, and I was losing my grip. My cock throbbed against her ass, my breath sputtering and nose pecking the low cervical center of her neck. Her sweaty blond locks billowing about my face and chest. "You're too strong," I moaned into her, my fingers digging deeper, her muscles unyielding. "Impossible!"

"Yes!" she snarled, her voice raw and lusting. "More! Feel me! Feel what I'm becoming!" She flexed her back, her lats flaring wider, her sports bra splitting its seams. I groaned, my hands roaming, worshipping every new inch. Beth's surprise at her new size and strength was intoxicating. She marveled at her biceps, left and right, as did I, her breaths hitching with each glance, her body growing thicker, bigger, stronger. Inches from my eyes, the gorgeous feminine rocks of her upper back dramatically inflated, tensing to braking point her sports bra's center strap, warping its hooks, then violently divorcing its wings.   

Roused with inspiration, Beth pushed on, relentless, a broken bra hanging from her shoulders; her movements now slower and fiercely luxuriant. Her grunts turned into carnal moans, the exertion blending with something deeper, something sexual. "Fuuuuuck," she growled, her voice lusting as if her climb was rooting her core. With every reach her ass pressed harder against my groin, squeezing my swollen cock like a tube of toothpaste, forcing my cock-head upward, aching for release, my hands greedy for more of her muscle, her power, her strength.

At the top, she locked onto the final bar, hanging us there, suspended high above the mat. Every one of her muscles tensed, slick and gleaming under the basement lights.

Then it happened again. As God is my witness her entire body broadened, expanded, at least an inch of muscle everywhere in all directions. Her biceps bulged, veins pulsing, her traps rose under my hands. She turned her head slightly, her eyes burning into mine, wild with triumph and hunger.

This wasn't the spritely, petite Beth I knew. It was Beth, only better, vastly bigger. I imagined she was the strongest person in the world. I saw her bending a barbell like it was taffy oozing around her fingers.  "Look at me, Terry," she commanded, her voice a filthy growl. "Look at what I can do."

Her biceps exploded! She hoisted us higher into a chin-up, the first of many. At first composed, then faster, fluid, pumping. Unrelenting feminine grunts of strength.

I was awestruck, my cock throbbing against her lower back lumbar, ready to blow. My hands trembled as they gripped her delts. "Beth, you are... fuck .... you're ....everything," I stammered, my voice breaking. Her strength was overwhelming, a force of nature that made me feel small and, well... owned.

She was surprised, too. Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected to conquer the wall with me on her back. And powering into this impossible feat of strength rocketed her libido into the stratosphere. Was she frightened of herself? Frightened by her new size and strength? Was this some amped, self-loving narcissism gone haywire? Ogling her muscles, she looked more intent to come than I'd ever seen her in bed, even in our wildest moments.

With a wicked grin, she tightened her grip, her biceps bulging impossibly larger, and growled, "I'm not done with you, lover boy! Hold on tight!"

Lover boy? Where the hell did that come from?

Instead of descending, Beth let one hand go, hanging us one-handed from the bar, remnants of a bra sliding down her muscled arm to the mat below. It was feat of strength that made my jaw drop. "Slide around front!"

I immediately did, facing her chest, my feet finding a foothold, my body pressed against hers. Her free hand blurred and cupped my chin, forcing me to look up at her. Her eyes were feral, her irises appearing to spike larger and shine brighter, just as they did when the AmpUltra drug first really kicked in. Her breath was hot against my face, her lips curling into a predatory smirk.

"Get down there!" she ordered, a sultry command laced with power.

I looked down. Her spandex shorts, dilated beyond capacity by the new size of her quads, embossed her crotch in detail, polyurethane seams appearing ready to burst. Regardless, her groin was drenched. She was getting off on this, big time!

"You're gonna make me come again, lover boy" she whispered, her voice promising, thick with need. "While I hold us up. Right here, right now, "

Again? She'd already orgasmed?

Her tone descended into a low growl, then a whisper. "Worship my pussy."

My heart pounded, my cock straining against my shorts. "Beth, I —"

"Shut the fuck up!," she snapped, spittle spraying my face. She clamped my hand, shoving it under her waistband and guiding my fingers to her pussy—soaked, slick and pulsing, her arousal a flood that coated my hand. "Feel how wet I am, fuck boy. That's what this strength does to me." Her grip on the bar didn't waver, her arm was unyielding, her bicep a boulder.

Fuck boy? What in the...? She's a female chauvinist now?

Beth held us both from the top bar with one hand, hundreds of pounds, defying gravity. "Look at my bicep," she said, mewing like kitten. "She's so big. Don't make me use her on you. Get down there, now!"

I obeyed, lowering myself down her body. My arms inevitably circled tightly around her mammoth thighs until I faced her wonderful, wet groin. My nose nuzzled it. She groaned with pleasure, plying her fingers through the hair at the back of my head until the feeling faded.

Beth then swiftly whipped her hand around and straight down, snapping the waistband of her spandex shorts. And there it was. Her clit ... defiant. I can say with complete assurance that AmpUltra had firmly broadened my girl's hidden cherry into a solid, sensitive marble. She tapped it with her index finger and moaned, a rumbling of pain and pleasure so seismic I thought she'd explode. "I can get hard down there too now," she said meekly, dreamily, then slid her free hand around to the back of my head, positioning my lips over her solid clit.

I went to work like a good soldier, mouth and fingers sliding about her unmovable round bullet, scrubbing and shining. Her walls clenched around my tongue like a vise. I'd gone down on her many times before, but sucking her now, hearing her feminine coos, tasting this new essence from her was something else. It was thicker, more pungent, and coating my face.

She moaned, low and dirty, her hips bucking against my face and hand, her abs flexing with every movement, a ripple of muscle that made my cock ache. "Harderrrr," she growled down at me, her voice raw and commanding. "Show me you're worthy. Make me scream! "

I worked Beth faster, my fingers relentless, curling inside her, stroking her clit with my thumb. Her moans turned to gasps, then cries, some to God. Her pussy was a furnace, wet and greedy. Her arousal dripped down my hand, pooling on the mat far below. Her muscles tensing and her body shaking, she held the bar one-handed without fail. Her strength was like some insane miracle.

"Fuck, yes!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the basement, her orgasm building like a storm. I wondered if our nosy neighbor Pam could hear her. That primm little eavesdropping mouse hears everything. If she ever found out about AmpUltra and used it, I shudder to think what would happen.

Beth was relentless, her hips grinding against my hand, her free arm pulling me closer, her pussy's lips crashing into mine. Her iron clit vibrated against my mouth. "Don't you fucking stop!" she yelled, her voice breaking, her pussy clenching harder, her thighs trembling. Did I hear spandex ripping? I added a third finger, stretching her, my thumb circling her clit, and she roared, her eyes exploding wide, "Fuuuck, that's it!" Her body convulsed, abs tightening, lats flaring as she held us up, AmpUltra jacking her musculature even broader.

Her climax hit. She froze ... then spasmed uncontrollably, power-washing my face time and again with her girly juice. A mind-altering jackhammering that soaked me. Her feminine cries were both high-pitched and deeply animalistic. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" she screamed, her body shaking, her arousal flowing down her muscled thighs in a slick, sexy flood that left her panting, her eyes wild with triumph.

Beth's orgasm was so powerful, her pussy clenching so hard, I feared its force would break my fingers. She pulsed with aftershocks. And through it all, she held us one-handed from the top bar, proving her impossible strength.

Slowly turning her glowing face to her right, her orgasm subsiding, she smiled and lovingly eyed her bicep, an alabaster cannonball. Clearly hypnotized by its size and unable to restrain her desire, she darted her tongue playfully over a vein and launched into a heady, ravenous make-out session with her big new toy.

She'd forgotten about me, so I did the only thing I could in my current position to remind her. I nuzzled her pussy with my nose.

Beth moaned and looked down at me, grinning. She looked savage and seemingly sated, her chest heaving, sweat pouring down her face. She grabbed my hand, bringing it to her lips, licking her own juices off my fingers with a slow and deliberate gliding of her tongue, her eyes never leaving mine. "Good boy," she purred, her voice deep and lustful, her body still trembling with afterglow. "I'm so very proud of you, making me come like a queen deserves."

I was speechless, my cock throbbing, aching, my body pressed against hers. Her strength, her climax, her sheer control—it was overwhelming. "Beth, you ..." I stammered, my hands still roaming her muscles, feeling the heat, the hardness. "You can't possibly be this strong."

"I am," she growled, squeezing me. "And I'm just getting started."

She let go of the top bar. We dropped downward, her feet hitting the mat, absorbing our landing like a superhero. She immediately righted herself, standing proudly and releasing her grip on me. I crumbled to the mat like a discarded marionette, rolling to my side. And she righted, arching back unfazed, running her palms up and down her expansive chest cavity.

Looking up at her, she towered over me. I couldn't imagine a woman or anyone being this big, strong and indomitable, but here she was. I never considered that her libido would or could be as greatly enhanced as her body. "I must a superhero," she said softly to herself, almost imperceptible, "I must."

She'd again paid no attention to me. I'd ceased to exist.

"I'm so fucking strong," she panted, pride radiating, her chest heaving. "I am superhero." Her eyes gleamed, predatory, thoughtful, shifting, looking like the drug really was affecting her mind. Was this really her new reality? A delusion of grandeur?

I must be honest. Beth said "superhero," but with her amped libido, I imagined she'd be a supervillain. I shook the thought away.

"You're stronger than anyone," I admitted. My voice was hoarse and my now purple cockhead still iron-hard from the experience.

Beth shook her beautiful blonde mane, trying to bring her mind back to the present. Slowly she turned, looking down upon me, filling my vision from her seemingly impossible height. Her expression changed to elation when she noticed my cock. Her smile was a sun vanquishing a darkness of narcissism. The sight ignited her libido.

With blurring speed she pounced, swarming my cock, engulfing it, pinning me to the floor, grabbing the sides of my head and kissing me - hard and possessive. Her tongue claimed me again, tasting her own climax, consuming any remnant. Boulders of strength flexed under my roaming hands, a constant reminder of her dominance.

Beth's repeated feminine growling and roaring, accompanied by her swirling mane of blonde hair, unveiled impossibly sexy glimpses of her beautiful face, her aggression, her muscle and unstoppable strength. All of this flashed before me, sustaining my stamina. This was what it's like to be fucked ... an overwhelming tsunami of female muscle. I exploded up into her like a cannon, fireballing. Up and up, over and over. Again and again. Slowing, tiring. Then darkness.

Coming Soon
Part 3

[brave_archer]

Thanks!

There will be a part 3 and hopefully more. I guess it's not unusual that while writing one part it inspires the next one.

In part 3 she'll be a superhero, sort of; somewhere between a superhero and a supervillain. She's gonna have lapses in morality that cause trouble. Definitely a gray area character.

Oh, I like that idea a lot! Love to see some complex characters, especially when they're super buff, sexy women. Looking forward to it!

[Orange77]

Thanks! More of Beth to come. I'll be sharing future episodes here, of course, with additional material and photos at DeviantArt / orange1984blue.

[musqular6]

Incredible story! Love to read more.

[tapion]

Wow ! That's hot. Hope for more !

[Orange77]

Thanks! I appreciate the feedback.

I'm amazed by the number of readers or views this story has, here and on DevianArt.

There will be more chapters.

Also, I have more stories (and a lot of art) on my DeviantArt page... orange1984blue. I intend to share side-stories there. And here, of course.

[fitgirlfanguy]

Fantastic story!  Best writing I've enjoyed in a while!  Thank you for sharing it, and I look forward to more Beth!

[Orange77]

Thanks! 👍

[phil123]

Great chapter. And she will grow more

[Orange77]

She will. Currently writing a side story about her.

[brave_archer]

She will. Currently writing a side story about her.

Happy to hear that! Love your work and can't wait for more 

[Orange77]

Created a photo of her.

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Many more will be shared at DeviantArt(.)com / orange1984blue.

[Orange77]

Still working on the next chapter.

New but shorter stories about different women are at DeviantArt(.)com/orange1984blue.

[Maestrojb1954!]

Fantastic story!!! One of my all-time favorites!!! I am a major fan of this author. I am totally pumped to read more. My wife is already stronger than me, but now I am desperate to find a magic strength formula for her. But it it must be something with absolutely no side effects. Maybe she would be willing to read this one. And just maybe she would be inspired!!! Bravo, bravo, bravo!!! Encore!!!