I had to reform my body back to contest size just to wear my clothes again (and fit through the doors). A group of people started forming outside my place and peeking in, so I grabbed my laptop, phone, some clothes and drove up the beach. I’m sure Cliff was OK, besides he now had a limp dick the size of a French bread loaf.
I looked back and saw the house in near shambles with a stretch of broken asphalt for miles. I’ve had my special gift for so long, but never felt this much power.
I found a quiet stretch of beach by a pier and made a spot under the stars. I looked up and reached out with my mind. All of those tiny voices became louder and clearer. Thousands of them… no, more. I concentrated and was able to focus on an individual thought. Some pimple-faced teen boy 20 miles away looking at me on YouTube. Another man watching a viral meme of me from the Qualifer show. Christ, he’s in Nevada. No wonder I’ve been able to pull in so much strength & mass, I’m able to reach out hundreds of miles now. Maybe even more. Nighty night Meg.
The next morning I met with my manager who had been calling me non-stop since the competition. As I sat down across from him, he didn’t say a word. He just turned his computer around showing the YouTube video from the beachside Gym. 50 Million hits. Then the competition video. 70 Million hits. He turned on the TV and flipped through a few channels. Local news was outside my place. Another talk show discussing the video phenomenon. Another and another. Every social and traditional media seemed to be buzzing like an old school conspiracy theory. Is it Real? Is it Fake? Is it even Human? Think LochNess, Area 51, Big Foot and Beatlemania all rolled up into one.
“Meg, we have an unprecedented opportunity here.“ he finally said. “I don’t know how you did those things or if it is even real, but EVERYONE is curious to find out.” He explained how major US and global networks have been hounding him to get the story.
My manager booked tickets for New York leaving later today. He handed me a company credit card and told me to go shopping. “Meg, you’re hitting the big time tomorrow.
I was getting into my car when my phone rang. It’s Jess. “Meg, I’m in town. We really need to talk.” I say, “Better yet Jess, we need to shop!”
Jessica was angry at me for a number of reasons. Leaving town suddenly without calling, unfairly outshining her through high school, growing massive muscles on YouTube… you know the normal girl stuff. Of course we made up because she’s my absolute best friend in the whole wide world. We met up on Rodeo Drive and after a couple hours of quality shopping, I practically kidnapped her to come with me to New York.
I couldn’t sleep a wink. Good thing since the Morning Show time slot was in a couple hours and we just arrived at our NYC hotel room. Jess and I freshened up, changed and looked DAMN GOOD. My manager met us downstairs and looked, well frazzled. I knew I would probably put on a little show for the cameras so I picked out a strong, stretchy swimsuit worn underneath a new Chanel dress that hugged my modestly large yet ultra ripped physique. Jess helped me fine tune the look as to what would play best with a general audience. A little less ripped, veiny and muscular. While still big and strong, a smoother, more feminine version of me was ready for America.
Tons of people were milling around as we made our way to the studio. An assistant showed us to the green room which was full of delicious food and the other guests waiting to go on. I started to feel nervous, so I closed my eyes and pretended I was under the stars. I let my mind relax, wander and expand. Deeper into my own consciousness.
Finally a voice rang out, “Megan, we’re ready for you.” Jess gave me the thumbs up as I followed the show aid out into the studio. She showed me to my seat and ran through a series of lighting & sound checks. The hosts came over during commercial break to give me a brief overview of what they were going to ask. Everyone kept checking their tablets, then back to me and my Physique level musculature. I know exactly what they were thinking. The footage of me everyone was buzzing about was obviously fake.
Five, four, three, …, …
“We’d like to welcome Megan to the show today.” A brief applause as camera 2 gave the viewing audience a full body view of me.
“Thank you for having me.” I said with deep smile.
“Meg, can I call you Meg?”
“Oh please, everyone does.”
“OK. Well Meg, thanks for joining us this morning. The entire internet is buzzing about some recent videos where you’re the center attraction. You’re a very muscular woman but these show something else entirely.” I squirm a bit as the camera does a closeup roll over my body, showing every muscular curve packed into my little black dress. “Let’s play a clip for any viewing audience.”
They cut to a quick montage of the Qualifier and beachside gym, along with a few selfies. I hear some gasps and some laughs from the studio audience. Fuck! This shit is global now.
“We’ll, it’s the age of the strong woman, right?” I say to relieve a little tension.
“Sure, everyone can see that. What everyone is wondering is how you faked these unbelievably realistic videos. There’s conspiracy theorists that say they’re not faked and a global domination is coming. Hollywood CG professionals can see that it is quality work, but it would take days or weeks. These were uploaded within an hour or less of the time-stamp.
You’ve got the military wondering if this could be a threat, or used as a weapon. Scientists trying to figure out the science behind it… if it could even happen and how to replicate it. Feminists want to use it as an action call. Anti-drug groups talking about how far sports doping has come. Fan boys and girls wanting to be like you. Weird fetish weirdos coming out of the woodwork. The Right is using it as a call to regain traditional American values. Pro this. Anti that. You’ve got the entire country using you as a way to fire up their agenda.”
Wow, the studio lights sure felt hot at that point as the hosts went on. I looked at the monitors and could see the sweat running down my face. Stay calm.
“We’ll, honestly I didn’t think this would cause that kind of reaction. I didn’t even want them out there.” I quietly said in response. I looked out the studio windows onto the street where even larger crowds were gathering to get a glimpse of the freak. I saw a sea of signs. Protesters, supporters and even “Doomsday is Here” nut jobs. I looked off stage and saw my manager giving me a sign by “flexing”, if you can call it that. Jess was all smiles with a big thumbs up for support.
“So, come on Meg,” the host said as he leaned in closer and put his hand on my knee, “how about you show the world what you can do, or let’s call this hoax for what this really is.”
Asshole! I’ve always done my best to keep my secret but now with the videos out there and this prick badgering me… well. I close my eyes and go deep into thought.
Now remember, this was being broadcast worldwide on television and live streaming on every social media. Later estimates say this was viewed live by over a 50 million people with streaming views near a billion. Let’s begin.
I stand up and begin and flex a few standard poses. I even take some pounds off to get the audience riled up about me being a possible fake. The crowd snickers in disappointment, just the cue I was waiting for.
With effortless ease I bulk up and pack on muscle while the audience gasps at the unexpected growth in mass. My dress starts to stretch over the bulging, taut muscle as I quickly expand to the size I was at the beach house. Beyond massive with rippled, engorged muscle that would make any Mr. Olympia bashful. That was the easy part since I can easily add or gain mass I’d previously acquired.
I must be more. My deep concentration reaches out to millions and millions of thoughts giving me the template to increase. So many thoughts flood my mind, causing a fogging haze.
Mounds of muscle pile on to my body as my dress clings to its last hopes. So much power and I feel I’ve only dipped my toe into the pool. The reigns are officially off as the crowd feeds into a frenzy.
Bigger, stronger and more muscle packing on than anyone has ever dreamt. My dress tatters into a million pieces across the studio audience. The swimsuit beneath holds tight as cords of pure steel power grow to unreal dimensions, streams of thick veins grow as they nourish unrelenting muscle. I finally reach a point where the muscle are so big, my body is constricted from total movement as the giant steel muscles grind against each other for a glimpse of freedom. Finally, I topple over and hit the studio floor with an earth shattering “thud” as my behemoth sized physique simply can’t move. All the while muscle continues to pack on and form together with near excruciating pain. I sit motionless like a giant ball of expanding muscle while the cameras continue to roll.
My mind grows hazier, but I feel faint desires for giant women coming through. I feel my arm grow longer and with that, some freedom of movement from the overblown beachball sized muscles surrounding it. I feel my bones extend and stretching out the muscles enough to where I can get my balance and stand again. I’m about 7.5 feet tall as I look down upon the crowd. The muscles keep growing.
I take a look back and see Jess in total horror. The rest of the audience too. I break for the window and jump through the glass to the street below where mass crowds of people have gathered. I force my body to grow taller to keep up with the now uncontrollable muscle growth. 9 feet, 10 feet, 15 feet and my swimsuit finally snaps with a deafening cry.
There are literally hundreds of cameras on my, from news to cellphones streaming live and the desires grow stronger in my mind as millions more see the feeds. I can’t shut them out, it’s simply too much. I make the mistake of stopping to look at my surroundings and the insane muscle growth overtakes my 22 foot frame, knocking me over on my ass again and crippling me with immobility into an even bigger ball of pure muscle.
Getting taller faster is the only way to get through this as I quickly add 10 feet of height, giving me enough bodily movement to stand. I grab hold of the side of a building and my grip completely shatters the steel and concrete. It’s only a small section of corner, but this kind of strength could do real damage if I don’t get control of it.
As I finally stand up tall, it’s literally the “Attack of the 40 Foot Women” come to life. Naked at that and live for the world to see with glorious mountains of pure steel muscle. I race down the road, continually growing in height and muscle. The tops of building become clearer as well as snugger as this extreme muscle growth makes me as wide as an entire boulevard.
I reach the edge of the island and easily jump across the river, flying and crashing into New Jersey leaving a 50 foot crater. The area isn’t nearly as populated but from my now 15 story vantage point I can clearly see the path of destruction. Crumbling buildings, streams of traffic, helicopters and… crap, fighter jets. I seriously doubt they could hurt me know, but damn it, I am not a monster. Well maybe just a little.
I head farther inland at about 200 feet tall. My legs are so damn long, I can easily outwalk the oncoming air traffic. I finally look down and get a glimpse of myself. Holy shit Meg!
I reach down and rub my fingers over the gargantuan corded muscles criss crossing my legs. Up over my abdomen and up to my mountain (seriously) sized breasts. I flex my arm and every muscle explodes with power as a small nearby town is plunged into darkness from my muscle eclipse.
I heard a loud noise coming from a fast approaching helicopter. It’s Jess voice from a loud speaker begging me to stop and come to my senses. My mind is so damn foggy from all the voices but hearing my oldest friend gives me some clarity.
What do I do? I now stood at 300 feet tall with enough muscle in one finger to flick a Battleship across Utah. There’s no power on earth that could come close to stopping me. I could become the queen of the planet. Probably even put on way more muscle and become the strongest being in the entire universe.
I blacked out after that.1 Year Later
Thanks for letting me tell my story.
After what the media called “the Meghattan Incident”, the US Government/Military and I had a long “talk”. They wanted to put me away in a secret underground bunker and make me a lab rat to figure out how my special power works. Unfortunately for them, it’s hard to force someone stronger than 50 Superman and the ability to grow to the size of a mountain. I did lay low underground for a month or so to let things cool off.
I pinky swore I wouldn’t ever grow that big or abuse my strength again, but do miss that power. Like they could do anything about it anyways
I’m a girl of my word though… right?
I tried to go back to living a normal life as the old Meg, but I had the most recognizable and somewhat feared face on the planet. It was easy enough to tweak my shape, facial features, hair color, etc. The new me was born and living anonymously in America. Pretty boring and mundane.
I did set up a super-secret webcam account though. If you can find me and have the small fortune to pay, I promise you the most exciting 5 minutes of your entire life.