★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] Stories~collected 2010-12

[El_Roy_1999]

The train reached its station slowly, the steam engine blowing thick smoke to its rear. Ralph sat in his compartment and looked at the address Myra's father had wired him. Sasha Branston. Sasha? The name made him think of Eastern Europe. Wasn't that short for Alexander? Russian, maybe? Were such people to be trusted? The war wasn't too long over, people still remembered the atrocities and horrors of the peninsula. Also, he wouldn't admit it openly, but the city scared him. When he had visited Myra, he had had eyes only for her, but now, he was alone. He was just a simple man from the north and had little taste for the outrageous life that the capital offered. Besides, his financial means were, well, appropriate. He hoped to stay at his future father-in-law's house for a while, but if investigations proved to take longer and maybe even be futile, he was sure to be unable to keep up.
The carriage finally ground to a halt. He took his coat and hat, grabbed his cane and suitcase. With a wave, he instructed Rajif to take care of the remaining luggage. Strangely, he was aware that while he was a foreigner here, Rajif was more at home. After his father's return from India, the manservant had lived in London for a while, taking care of the various odds and ends. Ralph smiled and stepped down on the platform. Everything would be well, he hoped.

When the cab pulled over at the Branston residence, Ralph was rather surprised. He had expected a certain wealth or at least some quality of life, but this was quite awful. The cab driver was very happy to leave the place and the number of strange and disquieting people watching them get off made them all uneasy. They were in Whitechapel and both the stink and the poverty were atrocious. Rajif switched the grip on his cane and looked around quickly to react early to any attacks. He said:
"Sir, I have my doubts on this visit. Mr. Branston seems to be a strange fellow to live in such an environment."
"Let us not give in to appearances. Maybe he can help us."
He turned to the cab to tell the driver to wait, but found out he hadn't. Ralph shrugged. This was bad. Best not to show fear. The young man stepped up to the door and gave it a solid rap. After a few seconds, a horrible old man, stinking of gin, opened:
"Wut is it? Wut d'you wan'"
"We're here for Mr. Branston."
"Dere's no Mister Branston 'ere, guv. Ne'er was."
"But this is this address, isn't it?" Ralph read it aloud. The old man nodded.
"Da's roight, guv. But we don' 'ave no Mister 'ere."
"Any other Branstons we should know about, then?"
"Dere's da young Branston woman 'ere. Moit be woit askin' 'er."
"Fine, then, may we speak to her?"
"Foin' ba me."
He let them in. Ralph gave his servant a long look. Rajif smiled and rolled his eyes.
They crossed a ridiculously narrow hallway and walked up some rickety stairs. Everything was chaotic and dusty. Rajif said:
"If this Branston were a woman, she wouldn't let things slip in this way, would she?"
"This is London. What do you expect?"
At this moment, the door flew open and a short, thick woman stared at them. Her face was pale, her make-up was overdone and her hair was piled up in a beehive of tangles. She was certainly young and might have been beautiful, but probably wasn't. It was hard to tell since she seemed as if she hadn't slept in a year. She growled:
"Not happy with my housekeeping, are you? Well, let me tell you something, you sorry shit: I know where my stuff is, but you seem to be able to loose your bride in plain sight. Which one of us is the bad housekeeper? Which one? Tell me!"

[El_Roy_1999]

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[solitariodude]

 Enjoying the way you're expanding this story to continue including what's been going on back on Earth. Always looking forward to more!

[El_Roy_1999]

"This man orders this woman to take up the blade!" The large man shouted at Myra. The brass jewelry on his naked body jingled. She was unable to react and tried to avert her eyes. His tattooed body was muscular and powerful and his expression was one of unadulterated aggression. The young woman was on the verge of crying. She gritted her teeth and squinted. She had been surprised by the situation and was still trying to cope.
Oras' host had turned out to be a very fat man with numerous servants. He had lain there on a large pillow, naked. Young boys and girls had fed him grapes and hors d'oeuvres. He had reminded her of the pictures of the decadent Roman emperors from her history books. Oras and him had exchanged some words very quickly and apparently settled their deal quite fast. She had wondered what use such a man would have for a young woman such as her, when it had suddenly dawned upon her. The Abduction from the Seraglio! This man was a sultan or something and she was being sold as a concubine! She had tried to stop him, calling him a traitor, but he had just given her an icy stare and left. She wanted to stop him, but two of the fat man's guards had grabbed her. She had struggled and, to her total surprise, thrown them across the hall, sending one of them into a decorative pool and the other one against a wall.
The fat man had exploded with laughter and called for more guards. As she tried to jump after Oras, they had dog-piled her. It had taken two dozen warriors to hold her down and chain her. Even then, she had swiftly broken the first chains they had lain upon her. Only once they had bound her hand and foot did she calm down and was brought away.

Now, she was standing there in front of the fighter and hesitated. The situation was confusing. She had expected to be a harem girl by now, but instead was to be a gladiator. A female gladiator. Would that be a gladiatrix? Whatever the correct word was, she wanted to have no part in this. Fighting was a manly art, nothing for women of honour.
The man insisted again:
"This woman will take the blade!"
She looked at the thing in front of her. It was a kind of sword, probably made of brass. She was painfully aware that she was naked and so were all the onlookers, all of them men. This was a nightmare. She looked around, hoping for a gentleman to step in and protect her. Nothing. The men were equally strong and muscular, probably more gladiators. She fought back the tears and picked up the sword, shielding her sex and breasts from view with her arms.
"This woman did good. Now, this woman will fight. Stance!"
She grimaced, the tears welling up in her eyes. Was this some kind of insane test? What were they expecting? She fumbled with the weapon, trying to point it towards her aggressor without baring her privates. The fighter was rapidly loosing patience. She looked away. Suddenly, he jumped forward and slashed at her with the blade. It struck her arm, bruising her. Luckily, it was blunt. However, the sudden pain made her react instinctively: She dropped the weapon and just swatted him with her hand, sending him flying. She squirmed and tried not to look.
There were gasps all around her. The gladiators were staring at her as the fighter got back up, screamed and charged. She saw him coming and leaped away, rising several feet in the air and watching him flail at her pointlessly. He howled again, but it was pointless. Whenever he came close enough, she just fled, evading him. In the end, he calmed down, sweating. She was out of breath too.
The warrior took the others aside and they talked quickly about something. When they were done, he returned and said:
"This woman is in lack of understanding. She is to be a fighter of entertainment. If this woman is ignorant, she is to be rendered dead. Or worse. This man asks: Will this woman learn or will this woman be dead?"
Myra broke down and started crying and wailing. Amid the sobs, she said:
"This woman will do this. Do not let her be dead!"
"This man is glad. This woman can now retire. At the next dawn, this woman will learn."

Now that's a curious twist

[El_Roy_1999]

Ralph stared at the midget fury in front of him:
"Are you psychic?"
She frowned:
"Not at all. Why?"
"Because you knew..."
"My dear sir, there's no hocus pocus involved: I had several clues. First, the papers were full of the story of a bride vanishing up north and her groom being left alone. Second, you have a northern accent that would fit the area. Third, the groom's father was a famous soldier who fought in India. Fourth, you are being accompanied by a man who is without doubt a Sikh. Fifth, there are specks of ash on your hat, which suggest that you must have taken a train very recently. So recently even, that you neglected to clean it. Sixth, the cab driver that let you out is regularly stationed at King's Cross. Seventh, you wear your engagement ring and have been fiddling with it since I first saw you. Finally, I am the number one expert for strange cases and mysteries, so there you are. Also, you are late."
"Late?"
"Yes. The cab driver took you on a little ride and overcharged you."
"How?"
"Seeing how the train you took is usually on time and the duration of the drive being as it is, you wouldn't have stopped for anything special. You've been robbed. Get used to it and welcome to London."
Ralph was flabbergasted. The woman said:
"So now you've seen what you will pay me for, come in and have a seat. I need all the details!"

She led them inside, ushering them into a small salon filled with bookshelves. There was a small stove, a chaise longue and two armchairs as well as a coffee table. There were books everywhere, the only free space was taken up by empty teacups and bundles of paper. On one wall, there was a rather strange oil painting showing a bizarre and otherworldly landscape. As Ralph scanned the bookshelves, he saw that there were books from various areas of expertise: mathematics, history, religion, philosophy, biology, it was a veritable library. He looked around for a servant to take care of his cane, hat and coat, but their host clearly lived alone. In the end, he just handed them to Rajif. When she saw that, she said:
"Just put them anywhere."
Rajif gave her a look that suggested that he'd prefer not to do that. Ralph waited for her to assign him a seat, but she just threw herself on the chaise and looked at him thoughtfully. Finally, he asked:
"May I sit?"
"Wherever you want!"
He checked the armchairs but found them covered in books and notes.
"Madam, may I move the papers?"
"Sure, but don't disturb the order."
Rajif could see his master swallow a comment and smiled. Finally, Ralph could sit. The woman nodded, jumped up and brought a tea pot in from the kitchen. She handed him two cups and asked:
"Tea?"
"Yes, please. But... can we get to the point now?"
She bustled about, serving the tea before dropping back down on her seat. Ralph missed Myra now more than ever before. He was so glad that she wasn't such a horrible person. No wonder there was no Mr. Branston.
She took a slow sip of tea and said:
"Now that we're all ready, please tell me what happened and what you have done until now."

[El_Roy_1999]

She sounds kinda like a female version of Sherlock Holmes...

I only steal from the best.

[El_Roy_1999]

The wind blew gently over the earthen city and there was a certain calm to it. The bustle of the night had died down and the day had not yet started. Myra stepped outside into the court, wearing clothes of red wool that contrasted with her pale skin. She had fashioned the garment herself, wrapping it around her body and fixing it with jewelry the other warriors wore through their skin.

Her trainer had had a long discussion with the fat man and then related to her that she was to be prepared separately until she was at the others' level. He pointed out to her that sails of white cloth had been hung above the columns that encircled the open space to protect her from the sun, in order to conserve her pale skin, as the people here saw that as especially impressive. From what she had heard, it made her more intimidating.

Looking down at her thin legs and her gangly arms, she wondered how she could be intimidating. Also, she still felt naked: the red garment exposed her arms, and only allowed her to wear a short skirt that ended above her knees.

She waited for a while, then the trainer appeared, once again naked. She wondered why this had to be. It was so awful and pointless. When he saw her, he threw her the sword and waited while she picked it up. He gave her a contemptuous look as she fumbled with it, then said: "This woman will learn. Stance!"

She shrunk back.

"STANCE!"

Finally, she realized she was supposed to stand like him. She could feel his scorn. She shifted her weight, shuffled her feet and tensed. At last, she was ready. He then showed her several movements and ordered her to repeat them. She was surprised how well this went. It felt like dancing lessons. The warrior was equally impressed by the grace and speed with which she moved. At the same time, Myra found herself thinking of the Three Musketeers. She danced and struck at him and he was clearly happy to parry, since her full-strength-blows would probably have sent him to the ground.

After an hour of practice, she was sweaty and only a little tired. Her opponent was breathing heavily and she began enjoying herself. She called him out for more, enjoying her strength and the slight shiver of fear she sensed in him whenever she swung her blade with more than just a casual swipe.

[solitariodude]

Hope she finds the nerve and resolve to just accept her fate and lay waste to them all

[El_Roy_1999]

After Ralph had finished, Miss Branston sat there silently, locked in deep thoughts. He waited and waited, but she still sat there, saying nothing. Finally, he blurted out:
"So, do you have any idea what we should do now?"
"Caramel."
He frowned:
"Caramel?"
"Yes. That's what we should do now. Come along, it's time to enjoy something fine while you're in London."
She got up, wrapped a scarf around her shoulders and set a rather preposterous hat on her head. Then she grabbed a walking stick and stormed out. Rajif shrugged. His whole expression suggested a certain helplessness.
Still, they arrived at a small confectioner's shop a few minutes later. The driver had instantly recognised her and had been very diligent at getting her to her destination. Miss Branston practically ran inside the shop and secured a seat in an alcove. She handed her hat to one of the serving girls and slapped the cushions to make her companions sit down. Then, she ordered tea and caramels for everyone and said to the young girl that brought them:
"Margie, dear, was Professor Magill here already?" She shook her head. "Excellent. Please tell me as soon as he is here, will you?"
"Of course, Miss Branston."
"Thank you, dear."
Ralph summoned his courage and asked:
"What does all this have to do with Myra?"
"Nothing much, dear."
"Why are we here then?"
"Is this a philosophical question?"
Ralph could feel himself getting angry. This... person... was wasting his time and now, she was mocking him.
"Of course not!"
"Well, two things: first, the caramels are really good. Second, Professor Magill is an expert on the history of the Royal Society. I would even go as far as to say that he is THE expert."
"What does the Royal Society have to do with this?"
"That's what I'm going to ask him."
Ralph shut his eyes. Even if this was helping, he really wondered whether it was worthwhile.

Call in the expert! And while you're at it, call Mars. Mars needs more Earth women!

_______________________

As Miss Branston enjoyed the caramels, a short and rather burly gentleman walked in. He had a very impressive red mustache and an equally red head of hair. When he noticed the investigator, he nodded at her and quickly walked over.
"Miss Branston. How do you do?"
"Excellent, Professor. So nice to meet you here. Care to join us?"
"Why not?" He turned to the two men. "And who might these gentlemen be?"
Ralph got up and quickly presented himself and his manservant.
Magill nodded distractedly and turned back to the woman who was pouring herself a new cup of tea.
"Miss Branston, I have to thank you once again for your assistance. I was very glad to recover the manuscript. How could somebody be so distracted?"
"Great minds, you know. However, I do have a question for you and I am sure that you are the only one to find a solution."
"Go ahead."
"We are looking for the people who took away some documents from a small village up north, sometimes in the 17th century. I believe they came from the Royal Society. The documents were about a man called Stephen, the miller's son."
Magill nodded and leaned back. He closed his eyes and mumbled for a time before announcing:
"It isn't much to work with, but I have an idea on where to look. It may take some time, but by the same time next week, I should have some information ready. We'll meet again for toffees and caramel, shall we?"

[El_Roy_1999]

Weeks had passed. The evening was approaching, the stones of the gladiators' school had been heatd all day and were still glowing with warmth as the sun was setting. Myra was excited and anxious at the same time. She wore her white tunic and quite a lot of jewelry in her hair and on her arms and legs. She felt strange and rather pompous in this circus outfit, but focused on the spear in her hand. Beyond the gate, the screams and howls of the spectators could be heard in the amphitheatre. The other gladiators waited with her in a stone corral. They were naked, their skins adorned with tattoos and ritual piercings. By now, Myra could guess their meaning, showing their skills and triumphs in the arena. Some of them were eager to fight, pumping themselves up and provoking their future foes with jests and japes. Others were calmer, waiting quietly for the fights to begin.
Myra went through a few motions the master had told her. What had been awkward before was now almost natural and she felt confident in her grace and elegance. She couldn't help noticing that her body had changed. It reminded her of a ballet dancer's. She was unsure of what to think about it. When she was still on Earth, at home, she would have despised it, but this was another world, one that was strange and foreign, almost like a bad dream. She had almost resigned and abandoned any hope of ever seeing Ralph or her family again. Myra was on the verge of giving in and forgetting her past for this uncertain future.
As she was pondering, the corral emptied and the fighters left to show their skills. Soon it would be her turn. The master had promised that she wouldn't have to fight other men on her first time. He had said something of beasts and creatures. Myra was certain she didn't want to harm a savage animal just for entertainment, but what choice did she have?
The gates swung open as the announcer's voice boomed above the arena. Myra braced herself. If she managed to perform as expected, she might be left alone. Deep inside her, she knew that this was a horrible misconception. She walked in the ring, the excited cheers of the spectators filling the air. She was both intimidated and flattered in a certain way. All of this was horribly inappropriate. She walked to the centre of the battleground, feeling faint as she noticed the smears of blood on the sand. As she had been instructed, she walked over to the grandstand and bowed. The guests up there were talking, howling, betting, even yawning. She turned to face the other gate. Myra closed her fist around the spears haft and waited.
The musicians above began to pound a fearful rhythm that was soon taken up by the spectators. There was clapping and stomping and cheering. As the drummers reached a frenetic pace, the gate began to open. She held her breath. The chains that pulled the huge doors open clinked and groaned and a strange silhouette appeared in the dark. Clearly, the gate was lit from behind to make the beast appear larger, she thought.
As the announcer screamed unintelligible words that felt every bit as threatening as the looming shape, Myra shuffled into the battle stance her master had drilled into her. She closed her eyes for a second, praying that it would be some small beast to test her, maybe to ridicule her. She begged for a horrible joke.

It wasn't.

Even before the gate was fully open, an enormous white ape, similar to those she had encountered when she had first arrived pounced out on six limbs and charged her. She felt her heart pound against her chin in horror, but she managed to keep her cool and... jumped forward, the tip of the spear aimed at its head.

[El_Roy_1999]

 

[El_Roy_1999]

 

[El_Roy_1999]

Well, I normally don't post things on here, but I got inspired by another post.  Why not, right?

My biggest fetish-in-a-fetish would have to be muscle growth.  Specifically, that "nerdy girl" we all knew in school who would look perfect with a nice set of arms and a six-pack.  (Or was I the only one who knew one?)  Anyway, if anyone's come across a story like that, I'd be most grateful to see it.

I knocked this together in a few minutes. It might need a few more descriptions, so if anybody wants to edit it, I'm fine with that. Let's hope this rocks your boat!

Jodie
by El_Roy_1999
*FMG*


I met Jodie again years after college. She had been a computer science major then and was now responsible for the companies servers. The years behind the screen hadn't been kind to her. She had always been rather pudgy and very nerdy, you know, braces, thick glasses and bad hair, but now, it had become quite awful. The lack of action, the long hours and the endless time spent in front of the computer had made her pile on the pounds. When I saw her the first time, I was horrified. I know this sounds sexist and awful, but no, I was really afraid for her. She was morbidly obese and clearly unhappy too. A friend of mine's wife is a big beautiful woman, she's proud of it and they're both happy. It's not healthy either, but they're having fun and like it both, so more power to them. Jodie, on the other hand, was in a bad shape. She was quite isolated from the other workers, always sitting in her room and working on the computers. Her outings were also quite bad: Trying to calm down angry co-workers when their computers stopped working, usually because of their own stupidity. If she dared tell them, they'd just insult her.
It was no small wonder she was happy I was there. We went out a few times, no date, no, just friends. I was new in the city and was still connecting. The whole thing was sad: Jodie was a bright and charming person, a nerd, yes, but an interesting one. She was perfectly able of talking about online gaming and comic books, of course, but she could just as well carry a conversation on literature and arts, about politics and philosophy. If she had the courage to do it, she could win anybody over by just saying the magic words: "Give me five minutes to talk away my face..." But you know how women are. I'm no model either, but I can be charming if I need to. She was unable to even try.
Still, I didn't want her to drift off further, so I took her with me to most parties I went to. She'd usually just sit around and mope, reacting to any attempt to strike up a conversation with her by just staring at the person silently. Suffice to say, I got asked a lot what I was trying to accomplish. If you ask me now, I wonder too. However, the change came from an unexpected direction. We were at a party of some girl I had met at a convention. She wasn't really interested and had friendzoned me quickly, but any company was good, so I was there, drinking her wine and eating her cheese. Jodie was there too, sitting on the couch and trying to be ignored. Right then, it wasn't too hard, since Kevin had showed up. As far as I know, there are two kinds of system administrators: There are the fat ones, like Jodie. If they're guys, and they are mostly guys, they have bad skin, ponytails and awful body odour. If they're girls, well, Jodie. There's another type, though, and Kevin was just him. I have to be honest, I don't go to the gym and I don't care what I eat, but I'm still in shape. I can run, I can jump, I can lift my own weight. Kevin, on the other hand, was the Hulk. He was heavily into bodybuilding and smiling to girls. If anything went wrong at a party, he'd just take his shirt off and, ta-daa, instant fun.
As could be expected, the crowd was wild, asking him to do some strength feats and just flex a little. Phones were clicking and pecs were caressed. When everybody had calmed down, he went around and just said hello to everyone while our hostess got him a glass of wine. Since Jodie had dug back in, I introduced them. He sat down next to her and struck up a conversation. I was surprised. Normally, the super alphas wouldn't even take a look at Jodie, but what the hell. I went to the balcony to smoke and was blowing rings over the cityscape, when the hostess came out. I guess it was Ronit, but I can't recall for sure. There was more wine after this. The conversation went something like this:
"Kevin seems to like your friend."
"Apparently. They're in the same line of work."
"I thought he was a model."
"Nope, he's a system administrator. He works for a bank."
"For real?"
"Sure. He's an honest to God nerd."
"Wow.
"I wonder what they're talking about, though."
"I don't know. Computers?"
"Probably."
"Probably."

You see, I was already quite drunk at the time. However, it turned out that they didn't only talk of computers. Jodie went home early as usual, I took a taxi, since Ronit didn't want me to go by foot. Over the next weeks, I didn't see Jodie at all. This wasn't special in any way. She'd emerge from her lair only occasionally and I had no time for any partying since my project was reaching its deadline. I didn't even meet her in the cantina, but I only went there seldom anyway.
After two or three months, I was finally ready. All the little details, all the fussing over was done. I was just getting ready for the presentation and just wanted to get the latest data, so I connected to the server and fuck. The connection froze, everything went haywire and I screamed. And screamed. When I calmed down, I called Jodie.
"System administration?"
Her voices sounded a little more assertive than usual.
"Hi! It's me. My server connection is busted and everything is shit. I need my data now!"
"Calm down." There were a few clicks. "Everything is fine here. The problem must be on your side. I'm coming over."
"Thanks!"
"No problem."
By then, I was curious. Jodie was a good and eager adminstrator, but this was unusual.
When she arrived a few minutes later, I was in for a surprise. It was subtle, but I noticed it. Her bulk had shifted a little. She had lost quite a bit of weight and gained a bit of shape. Her double chin had receded a little and everything seemed a bit tighter. Still, I was too worried to dwell much on this. She clambered under the desk and quickly checked the cables and connectors, then got back up, sat down at my computer and did her magic. I have no idea what she did, but it worked to a charm. I thanked her and almost kissed her on her cheeks, then went off to my presentation.
Only when I was done did I realise that there had been something unusual. Before I could think of it, the department head had decided to send me to the headquarters to give my presentation there. This was my chance! I agreed to everything and was on the plane the next day.

The next months went by in a blur. The project had been bumped up to top priority and quite a few people scrambled over the laurels. I was swiftly pushed to the back seat but managed to secure my position as a consulting agent. I also used the opportunity to get my colleagues into the spotlight. When I finally returned home, I was totally exhausted. I had lived in hotel rooms for months and was just happy to finally sleep in my bed again. I dropped dead and just slept for a day. I was woken by my phone on the next day. I fumbled for it and answered:
"Yes?"
"Hi, this is Jodie! How did it go?"
Whoa. Did Jodie just call me?
"Hi, Jodie. Yeah, it went well. Awesome even. I'm totally crushed though. Can I call you back?"
"Sure. We need to celebrate."
I was getting skeptical.
"I'm sorry, but what have you done to Jodie?"
"You'll see."
"That was not the answer I was looking for."
"Yeah, but this is what you get."
Curiouser and curiouser, to quote Alice.
I called her back eventually, she told me a restaurant I had never heard of before and I got ready. I washed, shaved, put on some decent clothes and went out.
When I reached the restaurant, I looked out for her, but couldn't find her. It was one of those super-hip things the cool people went to, artists and the like, but no Jodie. I checked the tables, wondering where she was. It was not her way to just be late. Suddenly, I heard a burst of laughter behind me. I turned around and looked at the young woman that waved at me. Could it be... It took me a second to realise it, but this was Jodie. She had changed. A lot. Gone were the double chins, the thick glasses, the unkempt hair and the shapeless shirts. Instead, I could see that her body was now well-muscled. She wore a halter top and some sweatpants. Her hair was cut fashionably short and she had these frameless glasses. I walked over to her and said:
"Wow. I almost didn't recognise you."
"No. You didn't. But that's okay."
"So what happened to you?"
"Kevin. Or at least his advice."
"What advice?"
"He helped me to start training."
A waitress arrived. We ordered food and drinks. Hers was super healthy stuff. I smiled, impressed. In the end, the conversation switched away from her training to other things. I had been completely isolated from the world and I had a lot of catching-up to do. Before I realised it, we were engrossed in a conversation about internet policy and political change. I was astonished: Her body had changed, but she was still the same.
Over the next weeks, we spent a lot of time together. We went to the cinema, to exhibitions and even to a ball. I was really surprised. We were both awful dancers, but we made it up by our enthusiasm. It was fascinating to watch her grow fitter and more muscular by the week. She had set up a miniature gym in her administration room and slavered away whenever there was nothing to do. Before I realised it, we were dating. Our first time was awkward like hell. After all, she was still a virgin and was really surprised by the whole shenanigans. I was equally surprised that she had no experience whatsoever, but she learned quickly. It was odd to see her loose her inhibitions over time despite her oversexualised muscle body.
Fascinatingly enough, she kept up her routine for years. The apogee of it all was when we met Kevin again. He was seriously impressed by her shape and they even had a pose-off and strength contest at the party. Would you have believed that Jodie actually won? Me too.

  Another great read from the master of the quick-draw (or should I say "-write") . So, after reading this, I think I finally might know what you do for a living Seriously though, where DO you find the time and inspiration for whipping these up? Awesome continuing K...

Actually, it's just pure and simple horniness. Thank you for your support! This really motivates me and helps me a lot.

Here are some of my other stories [kinda on the same theme], which you might like to read. They usually involve other elements too:

Temples and Trolls and Going Native are here => You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

[El_Roy_1999]

This is just something I knocked together on a sudden inspiration. The ending is a little so-so.

Waiting for Corinne
by El_Roy_1999


Paula woke up slowly. She opened her eyes and smiled blissfully as the air-matress bed's pumps hummed along monotonously. The daylight was filtering in through the shades and a faint smell of spring was all around. She fumbled for the bed controls and raised its elevation a little, then looked down at herself. Once again, she couldn't help but marvel at her wonderful, superhumanly bizarre body. Upon the inch-thick slabs of her pectorals sat a pair of the largest breasts technically possible, their cork-sized nipples erect from the dreams she had. She could feel her body aching for sex, her invisible nether regions throbbing with lust. She pushed the alarm button and waited a few seconds, lifting her enormously muscular legs slowly to move them apart as far as she could. She could feel her overdeveloped thighs brush against her equally hypertrophied abdominals and smiled as the door was opened and one of the maids came in. She was a short, gentle woman, wearing a servant's uniform over her tight body. Even though she was nowhere near Paula's level of muscularity, she could see the woman's calves peak out from under her dress and glean the slightest shape of her trained biceps in the top's sleeves.
"Good morning, madam. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, Francine. Perfectly." The maid noticed her mistress' pose and nodded. Paula continued: "Would you help me, please?"
"Of course, madam."
With these words, the smaller woman climbed on top of the king-sized bed and began fingering her mistress. Paula reclined as far as she could before her neck was blocked by her massive trapezii and bit her lip as Francine brushed gently against her thumb-sized clitoris. The massive woman locked her legs into the bed's outer restraints to prevent her from bringing her legs together. This had become necessary after she nearly crushed one of the servants' heads between her super-powerful thighs.
"More, please!"
Through half-closed eyelids, Paula could see Francine disappear from view, her slick fingers soon replaced by her velvet tongue. The gargantuan woman strained against the bonds and felt as the shorter woman let her tongue circle her clitoris, occasionally caressing her head with the tip of her tongue. These ministrations sent the huge woman over the edge, squirting a slick stream of fluid on her servant's face. Nevertheless, Francine finished her work, sending Paula over the edge again before finally retracting from the striated crusher that was her mistresses' crotch.
As Paula enjoyed the afterglow, Francine quickly cleaned her face and waited for her next order. Paula set her arms down on the air-cushion, forcing the pumps to work overtime and sat herself up. Her pose was a weird one. Her arms stood off at an angle, resting on her large lats, her abdominals squeezed against her thighs. It was hardly comfortable. She said:
"Corinne will be back the day after tomorrow, so I have to look my best. Get the gym and the bath ready and tell Sarah I'll need a full waxing and haircut."
Francine nodded and left.

Paula dropped back on her bed and shut her eyes for a few moments. She thought of Corinne. Their encounter seemed to be ages away, but all in all, it had been six years only since her life had turned around completely. She had met Corinne at a fashion show. The older woman had gone backstage to meet the designer and had instead seen Paula, who was just being helped into her dress. She'd been a fashion model then, waif-like and rail-thin. Corinne, on the other hand, had already been the burly fitness fanatic she had remained. She had worn a bondage style corset dress that showed off her muscular curves and had suddenly fallen in love with the 6'2" woman next to her. After a few words, she said:
"Girl, I'd like to hire you as a personal assistant. I'll pay everything and get you a nice allowance. You can see the world with me. Are you with me?"
Paula had thought about it. Corinne was a world-famous heiress, known for her excellent taste and her great focus on privacy. The other girls had instantly started to urge her to take up the offer. She had hesitated for a few minutes, then she said yes.
The next weeks were a blur. Indeed, Corinne needed a personal assistant, but it was much more personal than expected. Within a few days, she understood that Corinne loved her in whatever twisted fashion she was able to. Paula was astonished by the older woman's determination, both in business affairs and in the way in which she tortured herself to maintain her super-trim shape. The raven-haired heiress had the tightest, most well-groomed body she had ever seen. Pretty soon, she urged Paula to take up the same rote and results followed. Within a few months, Paula's body became equally muscular and lean then her bosses'. They went to exquisite parties, relaxed on Corinne's private island and made love in the strangest places.
Then, after half a year, Corinne finally spilled her goods. After a good glass of wine, she popped the question:
"Tell me, Paula my love, would you do me a favour?"
Paula smiled drunkenly and said:
"Anything you want."
"Would you become huge for me?"
"Huge in which way?"
"In every way. I always had this dream of having a lover that was insanely muscular, with huge arms and big legs and super-strong abs. Also, she'd have enormous tits. Would you do that for me?"
Once again, Paula hesitated. She loved her current muscular shape. It made her assertive and strong, making her walk tall. This, on the other hand, seemed freakish and insane.
"I'm not sure."
"Well, think about it. I'd love it."
In the end, Corinne won. As always. Paula began training more than before, working out for hours, eating ridiculous amounts of food and getting injected with ever larger quantities of various chemicals. Usually, Corinne did that herself, usually while working her cunt with a vibrator. Before soon, Paula's body ballooned in all directions, her muscles growing larger and heavier month after month. Soon, she reached hardcore bodybuilder territory. Corinne was in a state of permanent ecstasy, making her lover pose for her. After a few years, Paula had a set of huge breast implants fitted that gave her a cup size smack in the middle of the alphabet. Not that it mattered since any clothes she wore had to be tailor-made anyway. Corinne was happy to oblidge, easily adapting Paula's environment to her changing needs. When Paula's back became too wide for her to clean it thoroughly, she'd tell her servants to take care of it. As her body became too heavy for chairs and beds, she had special furniture made. Since her ever-growing body reduced her range of motion, Corinne had some designers construct special exercise equipment to continue her relentless growth.
Finally, Paula's super-huge body became so big she could no longer tend to her simplest needs. Of course, Corinne was happy to oblige. Paula was uncomfortable with these things at first, but she became used to it. After all, she didn't have a lot to do other than eat, sleep, train and fuck. A day in her life would start with some cardio which she mostly did by minimal motion exercises and electrostimulation. She'd continue with some heavy duty lifting and massages before switching to beauty care and entertainment. Usually, she'd add a second set in the afternoon. Her hyper-designed body was being carefully monitored by one of the servants who was also a trained endocrinologist. The careful balance between growth hormones, stimulants, steroids and painkillers was perfectly managed. As a result, Paula spent her days in a strange chemical daze of muscle power.
When Corinne was there, she'd tend to her personally. The older woman would work her cunt relentlessly with a strap-on or a double-headed dildo, making her hypermuscular lover quiver with arousal. She'd also feed her and administer the various drug cocktails required to keep her outrageous shape. Sometimes, when she was feeling lucky, she'd let the massive woman ride her. Corinne herself was in fairly good shape, working out every day, but nowhere as strong as her pet project. They agreed to a safe-word if it got out of hand.

[El_Roy_1999]

Meanwhile, Francine had returned and announced that the gym was ready. Paula slowly managed to get on all fours, her arms staying in a push-up position as she laid her overloaded muscle-body on her taut implants. Each of the head-sized globes squished a little, forcing her arms further apart. Now Paula lifted herself out of bed and stood on her supermuscular tree-trunk legs. She remained in a wide, sumo-like stance to accomodate her monster thighs and stood up. Her bloated arms lay on her traps as her breasts rested on her baseball-sized abdominals. Her silhouette was absolutely bizarre, her overfilled abdominals and ridiculous chest giving her a mutant shape. From the front, her waist looked quite slim, especially in contrast to her enormous lat spread. She stepped over awkwardly to Francine. The servant looked a little worried. All of the maids had to work out and be strong enough to assist their enormous ward, but Francine still seemed ill at ease with her body. She had a slight slouch, which contrasted with the ramrod straight stance of her mistress. Paula took her hand and started off to the gym. Her extreme body no longer allowed her to train with conventional weights and machines, so Corinne's engineers had come up with a solution.

As Paula stepped into the training room, the chill air made her nipples swell up even more. Corinne had insisted on her having them surgically enlarged to fit her oversized breasts. Paula was still unsure whether she liked them or not, but looking at herself in the mirror turned her on and getting them squeezed and twisted made her hot. Inside, several attendants were waiting for her as she walked in carefully through the super-wide door. They instantly swarmed her, wrapping straps around her various muscle groups and attaching electrodes on her skin. At the same time, Francine served her her liquified breakfast. When it all was ready, Paula flexed her muscles as a warm-up. Her body shook and quivered as each part of it contracted and relaxed.

The gym had a large pool in it. She descended the stairs down inside the greyish liquid that filled it. This substance could be hardened and liquified via low-level electricity. One of the maids started the system. Anna, as she was called, was a muscle-enthusiast. She used the gym herself on the off-time and began to look quite bulky by now. Of course, she was nowhere near Paula's size.

As the procedure started, Paula began pushing and pulling her limbs against the hardening and relaxing mass around her while the electrical stimulation further increased the strain. The whole process took one hour and a half, at the end of which the liquid became soft again. Paula left the gym and stepped over to a second pool which was filled with warm water. As she slid into the water, the tension relaxed.

In this pool, she was able to move much easier, her enormous bulk hindering her much less. After a bit of relaxation, two maids in swimsuits climbed in and began washing the crevices of her humongous body. After this, she drifted along a little through the cooling water, then climbed back out. The next steps were massage, hairdressing, manicure, pedicure and depilation. Sarah, her beautician, worked herself over her super-tuned body, removing any little stubbles Paula's hormonal chaos might have produced. Once this was done, Paula moved to the terrace, had herself covered in sun blocker and refreshed her delicious tan. The sunlounger was a specially built made-to-order construction that was able to withstand her enormous weight and also had extra high legs to allow her to get on and off the thing. She relaxed as she read some fashion magasines, wondering which styles she'd have tailored for her figure. After a day of leisure, she returned for a second training session before falling asleep, Francine working her privates gently.

[El_Roy_1999]

Wow, I don't see very many stories where the muscle growth gets to this extent. I love how you came up with all those devices and means to work out, it really helped in illustrating just how enormous Paula is. That gel resistance bath is genius, BTW.

Thank you!
___________________

The next day, she rode to town after the workout. She had to pick up the clothes she had fitted a few days earlier at a local tailor. Riding in her specially designed car whose suspension was able to cope with her bulk and gave her enough room to sit in front, she turned on the radio and enjoyed the summer breeze. The car was fitted with a special steering system that took into account the fact that she was hardly able to reach in front of her breasts. Instead, she piloted the vehicle using a joystick. She wore a huge, overstretched navy-blue tanktop and some ridiculous white capri pants that stretched over her swollen quads. Ever since she had ballooned outwards in this way, she had become fond of big jewelry, favouring large earrings and ornate necklaces. She had also added a white shawl that downplayed her hypercharged bust a little. Still, her enormous nipples gave it away anyway. No pasties in the world would make them any less prominent.

She got out at the shopping mile of the town. Instantly, she was the focus of general attention. People stood and stared, pointed at her and just gaped at the ridiculously overloaded display of muscularity. She ignored them and put on her large sunglasses. She took a look at the various displays and stopped in front of a jeweler she favoured. She waved her hand awkwardly to make him come out. Her super-bulky frame wouldn't fit through the door, neither sideways nor front. The middle-aged gentleman stepped out. He was clearly used to his clients' eccentric tastes and asked:
"Miss Paula, a pleasure to see you. How may I help you?"
"I'd like to see this necklace. Would you mind?"
"No problem at all." He stepped back inside. "A glass of champagne, maybe?"
"Why, yes." Shaking her head, she made the scarf reach to her hand which she tried to move closer, squeezing it against her swelling biceps, pectorals and forearms. She grabbed it with her fingertips and removed it with a roll of her bull-neck. Meanwhile, the man had returned with a glass of champagne and handed it to her. Craning her engorged neck, she sipped a little of the liquid and smiled. She said:
"Would you put it on, please?"
He unfastened her necklace and laid the other one on her enormous chest. He held her a mirror and let her admire herself. She nodded:
"I'll take it. I'd also like the ear-rings and the ring to go with it. Also, I'd like you to make a set of piercings in the same style. Would that be okay?"
"Of course. I'll send them to your home as soon as they're ready."
"Thank you very much. Here are my measurements." She bent forward as far as she could and pulled a small folded sheet of paper out of her trouser pocket. He nodded and said goodbye. So did she, continuing her way along the sidewalk which she covered almost entirely, forcing people to switch sides as she approached. She enjoyed this crass display of her power as she made all those people move out of her way by sheer bulk.
She reached the tailor's house eventually, although she had to stop to take a look at some very sophisticated sunglasses.  She rang.
A few seconds later, the door was opened and an older man appeared. He smiled at her and said: "Miss Paula, you're right on time."
"I always try."
"Come in."  She turned sideways and shimmied inside. The workshop was rather crowded, especially after she had squeezed in, and she hoped it wouldn't take long.
In the room, there were anatomical models of her various body parts. Since she frequently needed new clothes, she had had these made, which allowed the tailor to fashion the individual elements separately.  However, her enormous body and its specific shape forced the tailor to rely on these forms since fitting an entire mannequin into the room would have been pointless. She stared at the fabric-covered torso in front of her. She still found it hard to wrap her head around her immense size.
The tailor grinned.  "I know what you're thinking. Can this all be me?"
"Exactly."
"Trust me, it's common. I have a few professional athletes and some restaurant critics among my customers. Fitting a sumo-wrestler is similar."
Paula might have been angry if she hadn't known Emilio so long. The comparison was strangely to the point but she felt it rude.

Still, she spent the next hour or two letting him and his equally elderly assistant help her into the new designs. She was astonished by the variety and the fact that only a few details had to be changed. The crowded room was a problem, of course, but Emilio was already rather frail and prefered to be visited in his shop. She noticed that he touched her velvet skin with a certain adoration she rarely witnessed in other people.

Emilio finished his work and she left, activating the cell phone her Francine had put into her top's side pocket. She had the girls pick up the clothes and proceeded to continue her awkward stroll through to city.