★Memorable Author: [El_Roy_1999] And Tomorrow...The World! •22pp•

[El_Roy_1999]

A stout woman in a man's suit had entered the room. She walked over to Gladys and looked at her admiringly.
"Shee is qwite gorgeousse, isn't shee?"
Gladys fumbled a "Thank you".
"My name isse Violette! I am enchanted of makingue your acquaintance."
"My name is Gladys."
"Gladysse? Très bien. Telle me, Gladysse, I have been tolde zat you are a true amazone, a female Hercule."
"I wouldn't put it this way."
"Ah, yes, butte you are too modeste. Zis is Paris, après tout. La modestie est un défaut!"
The woman threw herself on the chair next to Gladys after chasing away its occupant with a "Casse toi!". She stretched and removed her jacket, then rolled up her sleeves.
"Come one, Gladysse, the arm of iron. We 'ave to do this."
Gladys turned to the now quite illuminated Oswald. She made helpless signs and tried to get him to help her. He waved and shouted:
"She wants to arm-wrestle. Give her a fair fight."
"Arm-wrestling? With a woman?"
"You're a woman too, where's the problem."
Violette moved her fingers:
"So, is zis fore todaye?"
Reluctantly, Gladys took of her blazer. Her would-be opponent's eyes went wide:
"Incroyable. I ame impressed. I wish to fight you. Give me your 'and!"
Gladys hesitated, then set her elbow on the table and grabbed Violette's hand.
The fight was on!

[El_Roy_1999]

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[Charles Paisley]

Thanks so much for continuing this!

CP

[El_Roy_1999]

As the two women clenched their fists, the crowd's attention was instantly focussed. Shouts of admiration and encouragement broke out and money was being thrown on the table. There was even a small chorus of "Vi-o-let-te, Vi-o-let-te" starting in the back until the shorter woman shot it down with a glance. Indeed, she was struggling. She had somehow expected to just smash Gladys' hand on the table, but had instead hit a steel column. Gladys herself had been surprised by the fury of her attacker. She held fast, but she had almost failed to withstand her.
Now, it was a battle of attrition. Gladys was certain that she was stronger. Her biceps bulged, veins popping out, eliciting an admiring look of Violette and hoots and whistles from the crowd. However, Violette both new what she was doing and seemed to be extremely tough. Slowly but certainly, the stout woman wore her amazonian opponent down. Gladys understood that she had to summon her forces if she wanted to withstand the pressure. She locked her feet around the legs of her chair, making the wood creak. Immediately, she felt her position improve. Violette was now under attack.
The older woman broke out in a sweat. Her arms, although pudgy and out of shape contracted, increasing the pressure they exerted. She held against Gladys' onslaught and managed to stabilize her position, then suddenly relaxed and immediately flexed again, taking her opponent unawares. Immediately, Gladys found herself on the defensive again. The blonde giantess gave her dark-haired counterpart a surprised look. Violette grinned and forced the attack.
For a moment, it seemed as if Gladys was done for. Her arm was now periliously close to the tabletop. It was clear that she would lose. However, Gladys sensed that her opponent had overspent herself. She took a deep breath and pushed. Slowly but relentlessly, she forced Violette back into a vertical position, her biceps quivering with effort. Then began the slow and inevitable descent. Violette shot sideways glances at the spectators, clearly uneasy with the development. She was anxious not to lose face, especially against an "amerloque".
Gladys gave her a benign smile and a little nod.
She was unsure whether Violette had understood, but the shorter woman pushed harder and when they reached the vertical position, Gladys released her hand and shouted:
"Ah! This hurts. I'm really sorry! Oh my God, this hurts!"
Violette seemed relieved for a second, then she said:
"It'se no probleme. We do a revanche another day, when you are better prepared."
"Thank you."
"Très bien. Et maintenant, à boire!"

[El_Roy_1999]

Bringing several bottles with him, Jean-Baptiste had them all sit down. Gladys still tried to massage life back into her fingers. At least, she did what she could to make it look like this. Violette continued eying her with interest. The amazon tried to ignore this. Finally, Oswald would get them to talk.
Indeed, he poured himself a glass, lit his cigarette and asked:
"Jean-Baptiste, I have a question for you."
"What is it, mon ami?"
"I have recently met a gentleman that you might know. I didn't catch his name. He's in the business."
"If he ever went through Paris, I'll know him."
Violette laughed out loud.
"Dans le sens de la bible. Eh oui!"
Jean-Baptiste smiled and said:
"Tout à fait. Anyway, show me."
Oswald took out the picture. Jean-Baptiste examined it.
"It's the man from the news, isn't he? The Master. I hadn't looked at him too closely. This is a photograph, yes?"
"Exactly."
"I know him. He's from Pologne."
Gladys asked:
"Poland?"
"Poland. I've known him a few years ago. Though not in the sense of the bible."
He shot Violette a scowl. She refilled her glass.
"His name is Jacob Blanc. It's probably different in his mother tongue, but that's how I knew him. I have a little something in my archive. Come tomorrow in the afternoon and I will show you."
Gladys was relieved. They'd finally be able to get home. She wanted to get up but suddenly found Violette's hand on her thigh.

The city of sin.

[El_Roy_1999]

Ruth drifted back into consciousness. She had read that people freezing to death felt warm before they passed away. Well, she was feeling warm. She was also quite snug under a surprisingly soft blanket.
She woke up with a sudden motion, sat up and looked around, instantly spotting the large monstrous creature in front of her. It took her a moment to realize that it was a statue. It was a demon of some sort, it's eyes bulging angrily and its body covered in black flames of sculpted wood. The whole thing was painted in vivid colors and and looked more folkloristic than scary. She stretched. Her body was still aching from the ordeal and she suddenly understood that Little Phoenix was nowhere to be seen. Had she ... ?
The black-haired woman got up, noticing that she was naked. She wrapped the blanket around her in a make-shift toga. The wooden floor was cool and there was an open window that let in further chill. She found a large pelt next to her bed and added this to her outfit. Slipping on the sandals that somebody had left her, she walked to the sole door of this room. Before she opened it, she decided to walk back to the window. Her curiosity got the better of her and she looked out.
The view was incredible. Snow-covered mountain peaks, a clear blue sky and the marvelous and ancient walls and towers of a proud monastery proved to her that she had reached her destination. This was where Jacob had sent her: The monastery of the Sacred Fire.
It was time for her to deliver her message.

[maxi-musterjunge]

Wow, I've read up on the whole thing without stopping once!
I fell in love with this story, incredible; I hope you continue :-)

[El_Roy_1999]

Thank you! I try to continue it whenever I can.

She walked out of the room and wandered the barren floors. It was clear that the monastery was very old and surprisingly well-kept, but she could easily spot signs that the place was understaffed and mostly abandoned. Suddenly, a voice called out for her. It was an old man, his head shaved and wearing the crimson and gold robes of a monk. His voice seemed unaccustomed to the language, but she understood.
"Halt. You are not allowed to leave your room. The abbot has yet to summon you."
Ruth smiled.
"Tell the abbot I am coming. Lead the way!"
"No. You are unclean and an outsider. You cannot talk to him."
Ruth approached the wizened old man. She was taller than him, her shoulders broader, her step vigorous and her eyes fierce. She could almost smell his fear.
"I wish to speak to the abbot. Take me to him."
She didn't even have to threaten him. The man almost seemed to shake as she towered over him. Somehow, she had expected the man to put up more resistance. Weren't these holy men supposed to be free of fear and worry? She looked at his eyes and understood. He sensed the tremendous, palpable aggression she had cultivated for so long. He was unable to resist her.
With a yelp, he hurried off. Ruth grinned and followed him. She just loved it when she could exert this kind of power. 

[El_Roy_1999]

Eventually, they reached the great hall. A spacious area, its roof held aloft by carved wooden columns. She smiled as she recognized the similarity of the Master's own "throne room", although Jacob would never call it that. Once again, statues of demons and monsters decorated the walls. Jacob had his armored bodyguard in their place. On the sides sat rows of monks, the rhythmic hum of their meditation filling the room. The abbot, a wizened man in gold and crimson robes, sat on his chair and watched her carefully.
With absolute ease, Ruth brushed aside a strand of hair and smiled. The old man's rumbling voice filled the room.
"You were rescued by our guards as you were about to fall. I trust you are well now?"
She nodded.
"Very well. I would welcome you to the monastery of the Celestial Dragon. However, I sense that you are not here for peace and meditation."
"That's true. I was sent by the Crimson Dragon, the Master of the World."
The abbot smirked:
"That is what he calls himself now? The Master? He is a fool. When we learned that he had brought an emissary, we expected something, maybe not an apology, but still a sign of understanding. But this? This is foolish."
Ruth cocked her eyebrow.
"Foolish? You misunderstand. I was sent here to deliver a message and you will hear it."
The ancient man laughed.
"You have been duped by his illusions of grandeur. He is not even a pawn, just a self-righteous, pompous little man who believes himself to have power. But he has none. True power resides in the might of the spirit. Your strength is weakness. Your anger is fear. I'd pity you, but it would mean anchoring me to a world as pathetic as this."
Ruth's face froze.
"You misunderstand. My anger is unmarred by weakness or fear. It is true, pure and perfect and I will show you its might."
With these words, she dropped her toga.

Time to kill.

[El_Roy_1999]

When Gladys awoke, the sun was high in the sky. She looked around. The room was unfamiliar. Where was she? Her head was pounding. Somehow, she had a gaping hole in her memories. She must have done something but she couldn't remember. It had been nice, though.
She slowly sat up, still surprised to find her body so outrageously muscular. This was one of the weird things about her life. She had worked for this over the years, but the final jump due to the professor's work had been incredible. Somehow, she still felt foreign in her own skin. It was just so much. She put her hand on her enormous shoulder. Incredible. Her hand slid down to her biceps. Eugene Sandow was probably puny next to her. She pushed aside the sheets, suddenly realizing that she wasn't alone in the bed.
She stared at Violette's sleeping form. The older woman was fast asleep, even gently snoring. Only now did Gladys see how strongly built she was. While her own body had become an anatomy chart of muscle that clearly and painfully etched every single line and fiber, Violette's was plump and immensely powerful. She had large arms, a barrel chest and huge, heavy thighs. The absence of breasts was discomfiting, but she vaguely remembered an explanation. She couldn't say, but there had been some outrageous reason for this.
Since Violette was still sleeping, Gladys decided to get out of bed gently and to explore her environment. She slipped out under the sheets, causing the springs in the bed to relax. Violette mumbled, but slept on. The enormous woman looked around and couldn't find her clothes. Hesitating, she left the room through a half-open door. As she passed the round windows, she understood that she was still in Paris, in some kind of bohemian artist's appartment.
Gladys walked into a studio. There was a piano, a camera, a récamière, a coffee table and plenty of books. Also, there was a weight set strewn across the room. Kettlebells, dumbbells and contraptions of wire and springs could be found all around the place. There was also a very large mirror. The wooden panels felt cool under her feet. She walked to the mirror and looked at herself. She was incredible. With calm and confidence, she struck a pose. Following Michelangelo's David, she tried the God of the Sea, before finishing with Laocoön's pose. She smiled at herself, amazed by her rippling muscles. With a grin, she brought her massive arms in front of her chest and flexed hard, her shoulders and neck exploding with muscle.
At this moment, she suddenly discovered Washington standing in the doorway, pastries in hand and mouth gaping. The pastries fell, Gladys blushed awkwardly, then she blacked out.

[Japagreipe]

Catching up on stories that I've missed over the months. This is turning out to be a pretty epic story. I'm looking forward to see where you're taking the story, 'cause I haven't got a clue. 

[El_Roy_1999]

The door burst open and a mass of initiates and acolytes stormed in. Some of them brandished pole-arms or maces. Ruth turned around to face them. The abbot was already lying on the floor, his men broken and beaten. She cocked her head, bunched her fists and attacked.
The foremost monk tried to hit her with his glaive, but she easily avoided his blow. Instead, she sidestepped him, punched his ear with the palm of her hand and threw him to the floor. With a crack, he fell down, blood trickling from his face. The others tried to surround her, but Ruth's muscles coiled and uncoiled with perfect and deadly precision. One after the other fell to her steel blows. She drove them away and towards the walls. With a final push, she sent them out of the window. She turned away from the crash and stretched. The perfect rage in her was still burning and she desired another enemy.
Happily, she was granted the opportunity as the remaining guards of the monastery approached the room. A few of them were armed with ancient muskets and rifles, but most bore swords.
Ruth looked at them. She saw the uncertainty in their eyes. She lowered her eyes and focused on her naked form. Her large muscles and womanly breasts were clearly distracting. She would have preferred to wear armor when facing such warriors, but she had to make do with what she had. She kicked up a halberd, spun it around and threw it at one of the riflemen. The weapon hit his face, splitting it with a sickening crunch. She laughed as the men quivered, then jumped at them, her fists flying.
Withing seconds, there was blood everywhere.

The muscular killer had wrapped her legs around the neck of the largest attacker and carefully directed him to absorb his allies bullets. Ruth held him up with the strength of her body, only letting him slump to the ground when they had expended their shots. Then, in the air before the corpse even hit the floor, she crushed the jaws of the temple guards.
After an endless series of atrocities, Ruth calmed down. She returned to the prone, bleeding shape of the abbot and hunkered down next to him. She lifted him up a little. He was only barely alive:
"Dearest, here's the message the Master sends you: True enlightenment does not reside in the isolation of the mountains, nor in decades of meditation. It is in every man and woman in this world, working together to destroy suffering and pain. The Master will build this world anew so we won't need to leave it behind. Know this and accept your foolishness."
The old man gasped and struggled to speak.
"No ... This ..."
He died with a rasp.
Ruth let him to the ground and stood up.
Suddenly, she spotted Little Phoenix. The young woman was wearing the robes of a nun and was in shock. Ruth smiled, blood running from her lips. Only now did she realize that her whole body was crimson.
She said:
"Little Phoenix. I'm so glad you are well. Do you wish to join me on the path to universal freedom?"
The woman shivered. Then, she straightened. A look of grim determination appeared on her face.
"I wish to do so."
"Excellent." The bloodied woman walked to her and tore off her robe.

[Jaguar]

It is a little confusing to have 2 characters named 'Jacob', the Master and the Colonel.


Other than that it is an excellent story so far (I'm on page . 


I think it would do well on Wattpad and DA, if you want to explore new audiences and new readers.  Promote it as for people looking for empowered women and girls but tired of the 'young adult' genre.  It has a wonderful sophistication.

[Jaguar]

El_Roy, I've read all that has been written so far in this story.  I think it's a wonderful story. 



It's not really an FMG story, which is probably why it didn't get as much response as a typical El_Roy story does on this site.


I might be wrong, I'm just one reader, but I think this story would appeal to hundreds maybe thousands of readers in Wattpad.


This must have taken a lot of effort and research to write and that audience might justify the amount of work needed to complete it.


It's an exciting suspenseful adventure story with elements of female empowerment, sci-fi, alternate history, steampunk, war, and maybe politics.  (You might need to change a few words in the sex scenes (different words) to get past their moderators, but these would be a few minor changes.) 


As with College Diary yesterday, I read this in one day.  This one, this experiment you've created, I love it more than College Diary.  I think it would make a great novel. 


And if you don't finish it, well thank you El Roy for what you did write.   

[El_Roy_1999]

Whoa.
That's some awesome feedback. Now I definitely have to finish it.

Thank you very much!

[El_Roy_1999]

Also, I'll look into Wattpad. That sounds interesting. Thanks a lot.