The Change

[Mr.Purple357]

Please note, Abby's husband is Jim but I mistakenly wrote Tom in a few spots. 

[Mr.Purple357]

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[hitboy]

so glad that story continues 

[Mr.Purple357]

Author's note - since I can't edit posts, this is a repost to fix the Tom/Jim screw up from the previous post.


Once I got out of my car, I turned to look at my reflection in the driver side window. My sweatshirt billowed loosely over my body. The cloth of my sweatpants hung in waves over my ass and legs. I'd had to special order 8XLs to get them so loose. At the last moment, I decided to pull the shirt's hood over my hair and cinched it closed. Only my face and hands were visible. I walked to the house. Before I could ring the doorbell, the door opened. A powerfully built, handsome, middle aged man greeted me, "Hello, Pumpkin."

"Hi, Daddy," I replied.

10 Years Earlier:

When The Change first struck, every woman on Earth became deathly ill. My older sister died on the second day, my mother held on for almost a week. I cried when I heard, but I figured I was going to join them soon as my body temperature soared to 105 and I began puking everything I swallowed.

My dad hovered over me 24/7, desperate not to lose his only remaining child. He fed me liquids and ice chips, held my head to the side when I puked, cleaned up after me, and wrapped me in chilled towels. Jim helped as much as he could between trying to help take care of his own sister and mother.

About four days after my mother passed, my fever broke. Within an hour, I was incredibly hungry. It took another two hours to convince Dad and Jim to give me something more than toast and tea. Over the next hour, I ate a bowl of chicken noodle soup, four scrambled eggs, half a chicken, two stalks of broccoli, half a loaf of bread, and a can of creamed corn. They hovered over me, waiting for me to puke my guts out. Instead, I fell asleep. Jim later told me they checked my pulse every 10 minutes, half expecting me to be dead.

When I woke though, I felt good ... and hungry. We still don't know why some people were spared and others were not. While those with great pre-Change athletic ability might have been the greatest beneficiaries of The Change, it had nothing to do with who survived. Mom had won a silver in the backstroke in the Olympics when she was younger than me. Sis was the starting forward on the Mercury Suns WNBA team. They were at least as athletically gifted as I.

Finally, convinced I wasn't about to die, Dad said, "Pumpkin, I'm so relieved you're doing better, but I've got to go home for a bit. There's a lot to take care of and ..." his voice trailed off. I felt terrible. Mom and Sis were dead, Dad was beside himself with grief, and all I was doing was demanding more food.

I hugged him, "Yes, I understand. I'll be on my feet very soon and I'll come help arrange everything. You go and take care of yourself."

"Don't worry, I'll be here to help her," Jim added.

Dad thanked Jim and said, "I hope your family is doing ok." As is often the case for Jim, he'd draw an inside straight in The Change sweepstakes, his future wife (me), his mom, his sister, and his only still living Grandma would all survive. Doc would later tell me the odds of that were over five hundred to one.

After one more big meal and another long nap, I didn't just feel good, I felt incredible. I still felt hungry, but not so much that it couldn't wait. I decided I had to get up. I walked into the kitchen where Jim was talking to his dad about his own family. "Dad, I'm gonna have to call back. Hopefully cell service stays up. Dammit, Abby, get back to bed. I ..." his voice trailed off as he stared at me.

"I'm feeling fine, Jim, great in fact. It's past time for me to be up and about." I realized he was staring. "What, what's wrong?"

"Did you put on makeup or something?" he asked.

"What? Of course not, why?"

"You look different."

"Of course I look different. I've been near death for almost two weeks. I probably look like shit."

"No!" he replied. "You look fantastic, like you just went on one of those makeover shows, but better." I snorted. "No, really. C'mon, I'll show you." He grabbed me by the arm to pull me into the living room and almost fell on his butt while I barely budged. Normally, he could pull me around like a feather; but now, he seemed weak.

"Are you ok, Jim?" I asked worriedly. We hadn't heard about The Change affecting men but maybe it was a delayed reaction.

He stared at me for a moment before saying, "No, I'm fine. Look in the big mirror in the living room." We went into the living room and I looked at my reflection.

"Holy crap!" I exclaimed. Jim was right. I looked like the alternate universe supermodel version of me. My too big, slightly cocked nose had realigned and rightsized itself to sit perfectly on my completely symmetrical face. The chin that had always been a bit pointy, now had a perfect round curvature. The bags perpetually under my eyes were gone. My skin looked like a baby's. I had to lean in close to the mirror to even see that I still had pores. Atop my head, new hair, about two inches long, was sprouting everywhere, turning my previously thin head of hair into the start of a lustrous brown mane.

As I was admiring myself, Jim placed his hand atop my head and ran it in a line to his face. It came right to his eyebrows. "You must be at least four inches taller too," he said. "Somehow, the illness has changed you."

I got a little afraid  as I remembered the horror flick, The Fly. At first, Jeff Goldblum became a real stud, then his skin began to peel away until he turned into a giant fly. What kind of change would this lead to? Diseases didn't magically make you into super models. I steadied myself, a lot of people had died. I didn't need to be scaring myself. So far, I was the lucky one. "It must be. I'll probably go back to normal sooner or later. Either way, I can't do anything about it so I'm not going to worry about it." I turned to go back to the kitchen as I was still hungry. As I did, I heard a rip as my tee shirt sleeve separated along the back.

"I guess I have gotten bigger." I said, looking where the tee had torn.

"Oh my God," Jim gasped. He looked at me bug eyed. "Can you flex your arm?" he panted. 

I did as he asked. He moaned aloud. I'd had nice egg size biceps before, but now it looked like an orange had been shoved under my skin. He immediately started squeezing it. "It's so hard," he gasped. I saw that his dick was beginning to push out hard inside his sweatpants. His face went flush as he kept squeezing. "I'm using all my might and it won't budge."

"Really? It feels more like a warm caress to me. I haven't gotten that big. Are you sure you're not getting sick?" Jim , as the gold medalist in the decathlon was the reigning 'World's Greatest Athlete'. Even if I now looked like somebody had merged a supermodel with an IFBB physique competitor, I was certainly no match for him.

"I've never felt better. Let's arm wrestle," he cried, leaping over to the coffee table and sweeping everything off it with one arm. He held his right up. I sighed, this hardly seemed an appropriate time to indulge Jim 's fetish. When he was seven, he got pinned by a six year old neighbor girl. Ever since, he's been obsessed with athletic women and dreams of one who could overpower him. Of course, once he hit puberty, that was impossible, but as a track and field star and Olympian myself, I could at least let him pretend I could.

He particularly liked to arm wrestle me. My dad had been an NFL linebacker for 12 years, after that, he became a champion arm wrestler. As a daddy's girl, I of course did what daddy did, and I became a very good arm wrestler myself. I could even beat most men. Jim loved seeing me do that, and even though I couldn't legitimately beat him, I could if he didn't go all out.

"Fine," I said, sitting on the ground across the coffee table from him and grabbing his hand. Jim had been such a dear taking care of me, the least I could do was indulge him. Besides, maybe I could give him a better tussle, I certainly looked stronger. "Go," I said. Normally, I go all out right away to give myself an edge, but this time I just held my arm there to see what he'd do. I felt him lightly push against it. "C'mon, Jim , I thought we were doing a real test of my strength. Stop pretending."

"What are you talking about," he gasped, "I'm going all out." I looked at him. His teeth were clenched and his face was becoming red. His bicep was bulging through his tee shirt. It was still bigger than mine, but I was barely trying. I slowly, carefully began to move my arm. His arm might as well have been made of taffy for all the resistance it provided. "Ahhhh," he groaned. I immediately froze.

"Are you ok," I'd seen too many people hurt arm wrestling.

"No, no, I'm fine," he moaned. I realized that he wasn't in pain, he was in lust. His dick was swollen so far out against his sweats, it looked like he'd shoved my police baton up there. It quivered and trembled. His hips began to thrust forward.

Well, if I was going to finally fulfill his fantasy, I might as well do it right. "Why don't you use both hands," I taunted. He put his left hand atop my fist and pulled with that as he tried pushing with his right. I barely noticed the difference. How strong had I become? I made a show of yawning with my free hand. "C'mon, Jim , put your back into it. I'm gonna fall asleep here." He leaned all his weight to the side and moved his legs to push his feet into the floor for more force. "Sigh, this is too easy for me. I'm just too POWERFUL for you now," I concluded, really emphasizing the word 'powerful' as I pushed his hands to the table and gently held them there.

"Ah, ahh, ahhh," he moaned over and over. His hips now thrust forward furiously, his sweats became wet, and then a stream of cum pushed straight through to splatter the coffee table. He just kept going for what seemed like a minute.

I stared at him, then at the mess. "Did you just cum in your pants?" I asked, incredulously and kind of stupidly, since I could clearly see that he had.

"Uh, huh," he said, looking embarrassed.

"It's ok," I tried to reassure him. "I just didn't think that was possible outside of those muscle girl stories I know you like to read."

"I didn't either, but I was just so turned on. I couldn't help it. You've become a supergirl, Abby. Oh, god, I'm still so horny." I realized that I was very turned on as well. It'd obviously been a long time since I'd gotten any and my new body had just put my desire on speed dial. Jim looked as handsome as ever and seeing him spray his seed just from being overpowered by me did wonders for my ego. He'd always been very attracted to me, but I never for a moment considered myself really sexy, until now. I went back into character. I stood up and stared down at him darkly. His breathing became shallow.

"How dare you cum without my permission. Your dick belongs to me." I raised my fists, "Do it again, and I will punish you severely." A look of real fear passed over Jim's eyes. For a moment, I almost dropped out of character, but I pushed through and added, "Tremble before your Master's might." I grabbed my tee shirt, intending to pull it off, but it shredded into pieces. As it fell away, I flexed topless in front of the mirror.

"Oh, God," Jim moaned. Oh, God was right. I'd always thought I had a really nice bod, especially if you liked an athletic girl. Perky C-cup tits, well muscled arms, washboard abs, nicely muscled legs, and a powerful gluteus maximus. The woman in front of me made that woman look like a pallid, 98 pound weakling. My oranges were now grapefruits. I thought such big biceps might be too much and make me look manly, but with my new larger size, I carried them perfectly. My breasts had swelled 3 sizes this day and were pushed even further forward by the full pecs beneath them. My abs were now a deeply etched 8 pack. I would have sworn I could have bounced a gunshot off them (something I would be forced to demonstrate some years later). My shoulders had the kind of rounded caps on them that I'd never seen on any woman who wasn't abusing something.

I felt something warm and wet on those ripped abs. Jim was on his knees in front of me running his tongue along the grooves. "Oh, Master, you are so incredible. I have to worship you." It felt nice, but if I was the Master, I decided he was worshipping the wrong thing. I pulled down my sweat pants and pushed him lower. He eagerly dived in between my legs. I'd never been that excited about oral before but this time it was incredible. Jim was using his tongue feverishly on me and this new body was eager for it. He was also massaging my much thicker quads, running his hands down along them then back to my bulging calves, then up to my ass. I felt my breathing pick up.

"Master, I can't keep from cumming again much longer. You're just too incredible. Please don't hurt me," Jim begged, then drove his tongue back into me. If he wasn't actually scared, he was doing a good job of acting. And wow, two times within 10 minutes without being touched. I decided I had to see this. I put my hand under his armpit and began to lift him. "Ahhh," he moaned in pain, very convincingly. "Please, Master, you're going to rip my arm off."

I quickly lightened my grip and used my other hand to better distribute the weight as I hauled him up, but I said, "It's not my fault you're so weak ... and I'm so STRONG."  He moaned louder as I lifted him and rotated him so his mouth was back in front of my crotch and his dick was in front of my face. I held him up by one leg, one handing his 240 pounds effortlessly. I used my other hand to rip away his sweats. His dick swung out at me like a club. "Holy crap, Jim, what's happened to your cock?" I asked, breaking character.

"Nothing," he gasped between licks, "I'm just so incredibly turned on by you." This was not turned on, this was ridiculous. It must have been more than a foot long and three inches in diameter. I just stared at the thing as it pulsated in front of me, precum dripping off in quantities greater than a regular man could cum. He started to thrust his hips. "Oh, God, it's happening. I can't help it."

I was frozen for a moment. I was about to get blasted in jizz if I didn't do something. Just as the first shot came, I put my mouth over the tip. Even with my larger size, I could barely get the head in. A volcano of cream filled my mouth. I swallowed and kept swallowing. I'd eaten Jim's jizz before, and hadn't especially liked it, but either my taste had changed or his cum had because I sucked it down like a shake. My own orgasm washed over me as I did. For a moment, I lost control of my body, and I heard Jim whimper in fear, either of being dropped or from how close my rapidly flexing thighs were to his head. I lightly wrapped my arms around him and held him carefully until I regained full control of my body. 

Finally, I let him down and plopped down beside him. "Wow, that was intense. It's too bad you've already come twice. I'd wouldn't mind trying that thing out. You should see it. You're like a horse. This plague must have affected you after all." (It would be months before we called it The Change).

"Flex for me again, Master," he pleaded. Ok, I guess he still wanted to roleplay. I flexed my bicep under his nose. It swelled until it touched his lips. I relaxed it, then flexed it again. It shot out and pushed into his mouth. He began licking and kissing it. "Ok, I'm ready, take me, Master."

I looked down; his cock was standing straight up. More precum was oozing out. Yeah, this had to be the plague, Jim was studly but no one could do this. I wondered if I could actually get it in. Old me would have been permanently deformed from having that in me, but what about new me? I lowered myself down on him. It was tight, but I kept stretching to accommodate it. I began to moan, this was incredible. I began to move up and down on him. My big new tits hung down into his face. He began to suck one. I gasped, my nipples had never been sensitive before but now it was like a small electric current pulsed through them. They swelled to over an inch as he went back and forth between them. "Master, I'm going to cum again. I can't help it."

Hmm, I suddenly got an idea. I squeezed my pelvic muscles. He groaned and looked to be in pain. I lightened the force until he appeared to only be in moderate discomfort. "You can cum when I say you can." He just moaned in frustration as I enjoyed the feel of his stick in me. Finally, I began to thrust again. When he warned me again, I repeated the process. Jim's penis felt like it grew even larger in me. I felt another orgasm wash over me. I did this several more times until, "Master, please, let me cum, I can't take it," he panted, trying in vain to thrust himself into me. "I'll die if I don't cum." That sounded ridiculous, but he did look like he was about to start hyperventilating and his face was an alarming shade of red.

"Very well, but only because I'm a generous master. Now don't move." I began contracting and relaxing my muscles. I'd never had such control before. His penis swelled even more, and I felt another orgasm coming on. His eyes rolled up in his head and he began to foam at the mouth as he started pumping his seed into me. I thought he'd finish long before me but we both kept going for nearly two minutes. Finally it stopped, and I rolled to the side next to him, satisfied, and hungry, incredibly hungry. As he snuggled into me, I said, "What have we got left to eat?"

As I piled through a big plate of spaghetti, Jim said, "I think we're about down to oatmeal and pasta for real food."

"Man, I'm sorry, I'm eating like a horse," I told him, but kept shoveling the food in.

"The way you're growing, I'm not surprised, but we'll manage. We still have a crates of protein bars, nutri shakes, and healthy snacks from all the sponsors. There won't be a lotta variety but we'll survive until things get right again."

I stared at him for a moment. When things get right again? Everything came flooding back in, and tears started flowing down my face. I began to weep uncontrollably. What was wrong with me? My mom and my sister were dead, and instead of mourning, I was celebrating my new bod, having fantastic sex, and stuffing my face. And what about my poor dad, he was all alone to deal with it. I fell to the floor and curled up into a ball of sadness and guilt.

Jim cuddled up next to me and held me for long minutes. Finally, "I have to go to my dad, Jim." I pulled myself up but as I did an incredible wave of tiredness rolled over me. "Whoa! I'm so sleepy." I felt myself begin to fall as Jim struggled to keep me upright. Somehow, he managed to get me into a fireman's carry.
He lurched along with me back to the bedroom. "Geeze, Abby, I thought you'd gained 60 or 70 pounds, but I swear you must weigh close to 300." He toppled me into bed falling atop me as he did. I hugged him to me as I would a teddy bear. He felt as light as one laying atop me. I then fell asleep yet again.

I woke to feel something damp on my stomach. I lifted my head. Jim was still laying atop me and a huge pool of cum was running in rivulets along the grooves of my abs. Jim looked at me bashfully. "I'm sorry, you kept rubbing me up and down you as you slept. I couldn't help it. I had to cum," he said as he began to wipe me with a sheet. I looked at my tits which were smeared in a layer of thick, dry white cum. "Twice," he added.

I kissed him. "It's fine," I replied. "You deserve it. I'm sorry I held you hostage," I got up and pulled him with me. We stood there a moment staring at each other. The top of his head was now even with my eyebrows. I flexed my arm, the grapefruit had become a cantaloupe. "How big am I gonna get?" I wondered aloud. "Will I eventually crash through the ceiling?" I wasn't thinking about the Fly anymore but Attack Of The 50 Foot Woman.

"I don't think so. I had my phone with me, there's only limited service, but between, uhm, incidents, I texted with my dad. He said Mom and Lily are getting better too."

"That's great, Jim. I'm so glad."

"I know, but that's not all. They've also gotten taller and stronger too, though it doesn't sound like they've grown as much as you have. So, I'm thinking there's a limit to this." He looked at me, especially the arm I'd just flexed, then down at his penis which was rock hard. "Is there anything I can do for you ... Master?"

"Sorry, Jim, but I need to see my dad. I can't leave him alone now that I'm well."

"You can't drive, Abby, there are abandoned cars everywhere."

"It's only eight miles, I can walk it in a couple of hours. Maybe less, I wonder how jogging is in such a big body."

"And if you get hungry or have to sleep?" he said, distraught that I'd consider leaving in the middle of an apocalypse.

"I'll take some protein bars and I can sleep at dads."

"Fine, I'll come too." He pulled out his big sweatshirt.

"No," I said firmly. I need some alone time with my dad. Besides," I added, looking down at my long legs and the steel cable quads sheathing them, "I'm not sure you can keep up. But I'll take that." I snatched the sweatshirt away. Nothing I had would be close to fitting me anymore.
"I don't think that's gonna work," Jim observed as I tried to pull it on. He was right, I couldn't even get it over my shoulders. I went and grabbed the scissors. It took a few tries but by cutting a deep V down the front, cutting off the arms, and cutting slits down the sides from the armholes, I could just get it to fit.

"Oh, my," Jim licked his lips, "so much cleavage, plus side boob." The bottoms were a little easier, by stretching the elastic of Jim's biggest pair of basketball shorts, I could just get them over my muscle packed rump. I grabbed a backpack that I filled with energy bars, my revolver, and badge. Finally, I kissed Jim passionately. He began to moan. I felt his cock start to throb on my thigh.

I pushed him gently back. "Jim, I want you to do something for me."

"Anything love."

I looked down at him imperiously, "Go take a cold shower then read a book about baseball. Your cum and your cock belong to me and you're not to cum while I'm out." I winked at him. I wondered how long he'd last.

Then I headed out the door.

Next time: Abby Goes Out Into A Post Change World

[Wookey]

Fantastic stuff. Thank you K+++

[Wookey]

Hope for more soon

[nickolai]

So great to see another chapter.  Please release the next one soon!

[Mr.Purple357]

It took a moment to notice anything different. Except for our front lawn needing a mowing, the street of small middle class houses looked pretty much the same. Then I noticed that Mrs. Berkeley's SUV had run up onto the sidewalk and into a tree. A black flag was on her front door and a pile of flower bouquets lay on the stoop. There was a TV on the Johnson's lawn that looked like it had been thrown through the picture window at the front of their house. Cardboard had been taped over the hole on the inside. Five houses further down, at the intersection, a six car pile up made it clear that Jim was right, no one was going to drive anywhere for a while.

I heard a grunting sound from the Peterson's, our next door neighbors, backyard. I walked over and saw a large woman with her arms wrapped around the stump of a tree. "C'mon you son of a bitch," she yelled at the stump. Our houses backed up to a small wooded area. The Petersons had cut down a number of the trees to expand their yard but hadn't yet removed the stumps.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I said, "but you're on private ..." I paused as she looked up, "Mrs. Peterson?!?" The face was certainly hers, but Mrs. Peterson had been a dumpy, five foot two woman in her early fifties. This woman was pushing six feet, and looked more than a dozen years younger. Her big arm muscles were bulging as she pulled on the tree stump.

"Abby!" she stood, her once flabby thighs transformed into muscle bound pillars barely covered by a short skirt. A dirty, torn t-shirt was stretched tightly over her double D breasts. "I'm so glad you're alive. Both Mrs. Berkeley and her daughter passed. So did Mrs. Johnson, Sara Pauley, and little Gabby Jones. You're the only other live woman I've seen on our block so far."

I felt the tears begin again, Gabby had only been six. "I'm glad you're ok too, Mrs. Peterson. We've lost so many people to this damn plague." We stood there awkwardly for a moment. My eyes wandered to her backyard. Tree stumps had been torn from the ground and were in a pile by the treeline.   

She followed my eye and said, "We haven't been able to find someone to remove these stumps yet. So with this new bod," she flexed her baseball sized biceps, "I thought I'd see if I could pull them up myself. I got the smaller ones out but this one's just not budging."

I walked over to it. The trunk was over three feet wide at the base and nearly as much at the cutline. The idea of pulling such a massive thing out of the ground was ridiculous. It'd take a back hoe. Mrs. Peterson though had pulled a number of smaller ones up that even the strongest man couldn't have budged, and as big as she'd grown, I was much bigger. I squatted down and wrapped my arms around the thing. It was so large, my hands were still far apart. Insanity, I thought, nevertheless, I began to tug. Nothing happened. I squeezed harder and thrust my legs with all the force I could muster. Still nothing, but then, a small movement, and a cracking sound.

I realized that my biceps were pushing into the wood, and it was the wood that was breaking beneath their power. I rocked from side to side and the stump began to lift with a series of snaps as buried roots either broke or pulled free of the ground. I began to rise faster until I was upright. Stepping back, the last roots came free and I held what must have been a thousand pounds of wood balanced atop one shoulder.

"Oh, my God. She pulled it free. She's so strong, ugh, oh God," I heard a man's voice squeal with excitement. I looked over and saw Grumpy Gus Peterson standing on the porch in underpants and nothing else, his eyes bugging out and his peter poking through the slit in his boxers. While it wasn't nearly as big as Jim's, it had to be at least nine inches. Who'd have guessed Grumpy Gus would be packing so much? As he looked at me, it began to twitch. I was more shocked than offended. Jim being excited by my muscles was to be expected, but Grumpy Gus had on more than one occasion felt compelled to tell me that women with muscles were manly and that cleaning house was the only exercise a lady should engage in.

I made a big show of flexing my biceps as I lifted the stump overhead and tossed it ten feet into Mrs. Peterson's stump pile. "Ahhhhh, ahhh, muscles so strong, so strong, can't ..." Grumpy Gus gasped. He began to hump the air and a huge wad of semen flew out across the porch and into the grass. Wow, it was just like Jim. Clearly something more was happening to men than we'd realized.

"Dammit, Gus, didn't I tell you to stay in the house?" Mrs. Peterson yelled at him, then to me added, "I'm so sorry, ever since I got better it's been, please show me your muscles, please lift that, please bend this. And now he's doing it to you. I don't know what's gotten into him." She pointed her finger, "MOVE!" in a tone that sounded uncomfortably menacing. It was then that I noticed that Gus had a big shiner around his right eye.

"What happened to your eye, Gus?" I asked.

He looked at me with alarm for a moment, then finally said, "I, I slipped and fell into the bedroom door handle."

"He's always been clumsy," Mrs. Peterson added a little contemptuously.

"I see," I replied. I did too, having heard similar lines from abused women many times before. "Well, if you hurt yourself again, just remember that I'm trained in emergency first aid in addition to being a cop." I emphasized the word 'cop' hoping that Mrs. Peterson would take the hint.

She wouldn't, two months later, she'd be the first woman I ever arrested for spousal abuse.

Hanging around for a minute longer to make sure Mrs. Peterson didn't immediately lay into him, I said goodbye and headed down the road. When I reached the intersection, I could see more evidence of the damage The Change had brought along the larger thoroughfare. Cars and trucks had been abandoned on both sides of the road. The convenience store had had its windows smashed and been looted. One of the small row houses on the far side of the intersection had burned to the ground and the remains were still smouldering.

I looked in some of the cars as I crossed the road. Thankfully, the bodies had been removed or had managed to get out on their own. I began to jog. The distance from this street to the street just before the highway overpass was one mile. I decided to see how fast I could do it. I sped up. The ground beneath my feet shot past. My leg power was so great, each stride must have been close to ten feet, more than triple my normal. And my stride rate had more than doubled. My legs were a blur of motion.

As I came to the next intersection, I saw an SUV parked in the middle of the street, facing me. I leaned low and headed straight for it. Six feet in front of it, I leapt. I braced expecting to land somewhere on the windshield. Instead, I cleared the roof by at least two feet and landed almost ten feet past it. I barely broke stride and I'd just smashed both the world high jump and long jump records in one stroke.

As the overpass came into sight, I started running as hard as I could. I was breathing hard but nowhere near out of breath. As my feet passed the one mile mark, I fumbled to hit stop on my phone. I slowed to a walk and looked at the stopwatch app. I paused to look again. I'd run a mile in 58 seconds. Almost three minutes less than the world record and over 60 miles per hour. Unbelievable! And I was sure I could go faster on a real track.

At a much slower pace, I started across the highway overpass. About half way, at the peak of the rise, a Ford F150 pickup truck had crashed through the concrete barrier on one side of the road. It teetered precariously on the road's edge such that a strong wind might send it down to the highway below. I walked near it and looked down on the highway. Abandoned cars were scattered along the road, but there were a number of men on bicycles weaving between the cars. If the truck toppled while one of them was passing beneath ...

I walked to the bumper of the truck and grabbed hold with both hands. If I could rip a tree trunk from the ground, I oughta be able to pull this thing away from the edge. I squatted low and lifted with my legs. The truck tilted up easily. I could have lifted it using my arms alone. I began to drag it back. It squealed loudly as the undercarriage scraped the asphalt. There was a loud thump as it suddenly came to a halt. The wheels were stuck on the edge of the road. I thought about just trying to muscle it over but that could damage the overpass more than it already was. Instead, I tipped the truck on its side then dragged it away from the edge.

I stared at the truck for a long moment; curious, I got on the now exposed underside, pushed one hand under the bottom edge and braced my other hand higher along the body. I tried to lift. It started up but almost immediately toppled back down with me struggling to keep my feet. It took me a while to work out what to do because the truck was so much heavier than me; the center of gravity kept wanting to tip me over. Finally, I lifted it up the front side, walked toward the middle moving my hands along the underside as I did, then keeping one hand behind me, reached out with the other. I lowered the hand behind me while lifting with the one in front, squatting as I did. The whole truck went up in the air balanced by my two hands and my shoulders. I straightened my legs, then I pushed upward. Slowly the truck lifted off my shoulders and I pressed the whole thing over my head. I'd later learn that a Ford F150 weighed over 2 tons.

I slowly took one step then another. I began to sweat, but I kept going. Just as I got to the end of the overpass, my arms started to tremble and I tossed the thing into a ditch. I stared at it for a moment. I was clearly stronger and faster than any person on Earth had ever been. Heck, I may have been stronger and faster than any animal. Could an elephant lift that much? Again, I looked it up later, and no they couldn't.

I continued on my journey at a jog that was still faster than I used to be able to run. I passed by the shopping district. Windows had been smashed and stores looted. I ignored the people coming out of the supermarket. People had to eat and if Jim and I didn't have all those protein shakes, we might have had to join them. When I saw three men walking out of a Best Buy with carts loaded with electronics, I stopped and stared at them for a long moment. There would be no backup and once I arrested them, I wasn't sure there was a functioning jail to take them to.

I was about to walk away when they saw me. "Holy crap, look at her," the one closest said, leaving his shopping cart. His eyes got big and I saw that familiar panting I'd heard from Grumpy Gus. My too tight sweatshirt had become even tighter as my breasts and muscles seemed to have continued to grow, and after lifting that truck, my sweat was making my nipples show through the material. The cuts I'd made along the sides had ripped further and more side boob was starting to spill out as well. God, I needed some new clothes.

His two friends followed him, eyes equally agog. I pulled out my badge. "Alright, you're under arrest, get on your knees and put your hands behind your head."

The first man seemed to have not heard me at all. "I have to feel those big muscles and suck those incredible tits," he cried, charging me. As he did, I shoved my right arm out open palmed, merely intending to hold him back. Instead, there was a loud 'pop, pop' as my hand met his chest. He skeetered back about five feet then collapsed in a heap to the ground. Oh, shit, I thought, I'd clearly busted several of his ribs. I hoped I hadn't killed him.

I'd have to be more careful. The second and larger man also approached, lust in his eyes. I cautiously stuck my left hand out extending my index finger toward his stomach. It felt as soft as warm butter. All the air whooshed out of him. I quickly pulled my hand back as he fell to his knees trying to suck in a breath, but otherwise looked unhurt. The third and largest man had a crowbar, "Lady, I don't want to hurt you but I need you!" he said, raising the crowbar.

I didn't wait, I leapt forward, clearing the ten feet in one move and grabbed the bar. I lifted it, with him still hanging on, overhead.  His breathing became even more rapid as he stared at my body. His oversized penis pushed out against his jeans and he moaned. Mesmerized, his free hand reached for the tricep of the arm holding him in the air. I sighed, this was already becoming old. Since I had no interest in turning on my would-be assailant, I lowered him and spun him around. "Eyes front," I commanded. I twisted the crowbar from his hand and looked at it for a moment, "Arms behind your back." His hands snapped behind his back without argument.

I grabbed the ends and applied force to it. I was only a little surprised when it began to bend. I twisted each end into a loop. I put one loop around one of his wrists and tightened it so he couldn't slip free. The guy who I'd poked in the belly had made it back to his feet. "Oh, God, you bent that crowbar like taffy. You're so ..."

I carefully spun him around as well. "Yeah, yeah, I'm so strong. I get it. Keep your eyes forward and put your hands behind your back." I took the loop I'd made in the other end of the crowbar and put it around his wrist such that the two men were side by side and their outer hands were crowbarred together. The first guy was still groaning on the ground. I hated to move him but the odds of getting an ambulance here were probably nil, so I carefully picked him up. "Ok, march," I ordered the other two. "And don't try anything stupid, I'm as fast as I am strong."

With them in the lead, we walked back to the main road. "You have the right to remain silent...," I began to read them their Miranda rights. There was a small hospital extension about a mile down the road. I hoped it would be open. As we walked, the two men kept trying to sneak peaks back at me, moaning with lust each time they did. "Keep your eyes forward or I will blindfold you and drag you along," I threatened.

I marched them to the hospital's ER. It was deserted outside, but inside was a different story. Men were packed into a waiting area and lined up before the lone man working the front desk. All eyes turned to me as I entered. I had never felt so self conscious in my life as it seemed fifty male erections began to rise as one and their breathing accelerated just at the sight of me. Before anyone started jerking off in front of me, I grabbed the blanket off an empty gurney, placed the injured man on it, and wrapped the blanket around myself.

They were still all staring but at least their lust seemed to have dialed back from a ten to a five. "I'm a police officer, this man has broken ribs and possible internal injuries," I told the man at the desk, ignoring the line. He came over and quickly began to examine him.

"I don't think he's too serious. I'm afraid he'll have to wait either way. Most of our nurses were women as were a fair percentage of the doctors and technicians, and our male staff has been working 24/7 for more than two weeks. Most of the women who were going to die seem to have done so, but now we have a backlog of men still needing treatment."

I nodded at him in what I hoped was a sympathetic manner. "I understand. Thank you for all your hard work. I have to take these other two men to jail, but I'll come back tomorrow to fill out the paperwork for his custody."

"Ok, but if he's ready to leave before you return, we're letting him go. We have no way of detaining anyone right now."

I told him I understood and again thanked him. I marched the remaining two out and we continued on. Fortunately, the nearest police substation was only a block away. The place only had five men on duty out of a normal complement of thirty. As at the hospital, all of them stopped what they were doing to stare at me. I tightened the blanket around me. "Holy crap, is that Abby Adams?" an officer I'd gone to the academy with asked.

"Hey, Dean, yes, it is. These men were looting and then they tried to assault me."

"Did they hurt you?" Dean asked, staring at me as if trying to see through the blanket.

"No," one of the prisoners said, "she stopped us like we were children and bent my crowbar to make these cuffs. She's incredible!" Terrific, my would be rapist was now a fan. The other officers stared at my handiwork.

"Impressive work, Adams," the sergeant said, "but if they ain't killed someone we ain't keeping 'em. Take their info and let them go. Maybe someone will get around to arraigning them someday, but I doubt it."

I sighed. I should have known. Everyone gawked as I unbent the crowbar from around their wrists, trying and failing to keep my blanket wrapped around me as I did.

"Oh, God," Dean moaned. "Your muscles are huge." I heard the other cops mumbling similar things. I sighed, dealing with being ogled at was just part of being a female cop, but whatever was going on here had made it a zillion times worse.

"Ok, men," I said to the other officers, "I'd appreciate it if you turned around and went back to your work. We've all been affected by this disease, and I sympathize with whatever you're going through, but we're professionals and I insist you remember that." I stared at each officer in turn and one by one they turned away like embarrassed school boys. I thought the sergeant might say something, but after a moment, he broke eye contact and slumped away with the rest. I had no doubt though that they'd all be jerking off to the security camera footage as soon as I left.

I secured the blanket and took the men's information. As rude as they'd been before, they seemed to be completely in my thrall now and volunteered everything, including complete confessions. I ushered them out of the station warning them to behave. They swore they would and we went our separate ways.

For what it's worth, as part of a general amnesty, they were never charged and when I did a followup check a year later, they hadn't gotten into any further trouble. Their injured partner recovered fully as well. I was greatly relieved as I felt badly for having used so much force, even accidentally. The person who was happiest about the whole thing would be Jim, who would repeatedly beg me to reenact the whole incident, complete with crow bar bending. He never failed to cum when I wrapped the bar around his wrists.

I continued my journey. As I traveled on into more residential neighborhoods, I saw no more people, just empty cars on the street and the occasional black flag on a door. It began to rain, I put the blanket over my head and again picked up the pace. The houses and lawns became larger but still no one was outside. My father had been a NFL player for many years and had a very nice house in a gated community. The gate was wide open, saving me the trouble of leaping over it.

I walked up to the front door. No lights were on even though it was approaching dusk. I rang the bell and when no one answered, I used my key and let myself in. I turned on the entry lights and went into the kitchen where I tossed the wet blanket on the counter. "Dad, it's Abby! Are you here?" I walked into the living room toward the downstairs bedroom.

"Abby, are you ok?" he asked, walking out of the bedroom. He was wearing nothing but his boxers. He looked at me and gasped. His penis seemed to swell out of his boxers like a rocket leaving a silo. It was almost as big as Jims. He began to pant. "Oh, God, muscles, so much powerful muscle!"

If I'd immediately run from the room, we might have avoided what happened next, but I forgot everything that had happened today and became shocked and upset at seeing my own father becoming aroused at the sight of me. And being upset caused every muscle in my body to tense up.

"Dad, what the hell," I cried, raising my arms, my biceps flexed, my chest swelled, and I felt Jim's over strained sweat shirt stretch and rip where I'd cut it along the front. My boobs, already barely contained, burst through the opening into the light of day. I caught a glimpse of myself in the big mirror on the living room wall. I looked like Wonder Woman's badly dressed much bigger sister. And my dad, who probably hadn't blown a load in more than two weeks, and didn't even realize that his own libido had been supercharged, thrust his hips forward with a loud scream and let loose a gigantic stream of cum.

"Oh, God, honey, I'm so sorry. I can't help it." The only saving grace is that my newfound speed let me leap out of the line of fire as he blasted his seed in streak after streak across the room. I ducked down behind the couch so he couldn't see more than my face. When he finished, he fell to the floor in tears, "Oh, honey, please, I don't know what's happened to me. I've become a monster."

"No, Daddy, I don't think it's you. I think it's the Disease. I think men have been affected too."

"It doesn't matter, what kind of father does this to his daughter?"

"I know you didn't mean it," I tried to reassure him, but I didn't dare go close to him. "I want you to clean yourself up and go to bed. I'll send Jim over tomorrow morning to check on you. Will you do that for me?" He nodded and after sobbing for several more minutes, finally shuffled off. I stayed hidden behind the couch for three more hours until I was satisfied he was in bed and wouldn't do anything foolish. Then I sprinted the eight miles home in less than eight minutes.

It'd be several weeks before I could bring myself to meet my father face to face. By then we'd realized that all men who hadn't had sex in a while would react this way to a post-Change woman's powerful body regardless of whether they were related or not. A lot of women didn't mind this at all. Some in fact even enjoyed turning on their fathers, brothers, and sons. They would even marry them.

I was not one of those women. So this has been a very long way of telling you why, every time I see my dad, I am always covered from head to toe in the baggiest clothes I can find.

Next time: Dinner with dad and his new wife (and her other husbands).

[Wookey]

Great stuff

[phil123]

Great again.

[casedc]

Great story hope there will be more!!!

[nickolai]

Cannot wait for the next one!!

[0scott]

uh, another year has passed....

Does the author still want to work on this article?

I am really looking forward to seeing what happens next.