MUSCLEGIRL Thirteen year old Stacie Ketchum was in a quandary. It was after ten on this Saturday morning in late March, and she had overslept. She knew her brother, Pete, and his best friend, Andy Sloan, were around somewhere, but she couldn't find them. She had thought they might be somewhere on the beach, but a quick check from the rear deck of the Ketchum beach house had revealed that it was deserted. Pete had mentioned the night before that Andy would be over early that morning with some bad news for him, and Stacie was bursting to find out what it was. Maybe they were over in that big cluster of boulders on the shore at the north end of the Sloan beach property; that's where they usually went when they wanted to be alone. The boulders were clearly visible in the distance, and Stacie set off at a fast trot along the beach to get there as quickly as possible. Ever since she had started first grade at the school all three of them had attended, Stacie had nurtured a crush on Andy. Although Andy and Pete were four years older, she had contrived to spend a lot of time with them, getting them to escort her to and from school, which was well within walking distance from their homes, in the mornings and evenings and during the lunch hours. Moreover, Stacie had found various excuses to hang around the two boys during their recess breaks, much to Andy's discomfort, particularly since Stacie made no secret of her affection for him. To Andy, Stacie was just his friend's "skinny kid sister"; he found her attentions embarrassing and regarded her as a bit of a pest. The friendship between Pete and Andy was an unusual one because of the contrast between them. Although not unusually tall, Pete was a brawny, handsome youngster who had inherited his parents' athletic abilities and would fight at the drop of a hat. Andy, on the other hand, was the better student, but an undersized lad with a soft, almost pretty-boy look and neither the strength nor the coordination for athletics. As a result, in the early grades Pete found himself often defending Andy against the bullying tactics of the bigger boys at school, who quickly learned to leave both boys alone. And because Pete found Andy's scholastic talents of invaluable assistance in maintaining his grades, their friendship endured and was cemented. Stacie was a very tall, gawky child with a figure that her brother jokingly compared to a broomstick, but strikingly pretty features and long, luxurious, blonde hair. She was big boned, however, with broad shoulders that foretold a figure that would someday blossom and a wiry strength that belied her thin frame. By the time she reached the fourth grade she was almost as tall as Andy's 5'2" and was sure that she was as strong as, or perhaps even stronger than, her idol, but made no attempt to confirm her belief for fear of humiliating him. As the boys reached the higher grades, Pete had become active in the school's football and basketball programs. His first love, however, was wrestling, and by the seventh grade had convinced his father to convert part of their basement game room into a weight room, where he worked out diligently after practice and on weekends. Because of Pete's after-school practice obligations, to Stacie's delight and Andy's annoyance, the job of escorting her home fell to him. She was heartbroken when the boys graduated and were forced to bus to the local high school several miles away. In high school, Pete had eschewed football and basketball to concentrate on making the wrestling team, which he did handily, and by his junior year, when he had attained his full height of 5'11" and weighed a solidly muscular 175 lbs., was the state champion for his division. During his first year he had met and was dating seriously the school's top track star, Ann Cassidy, a lovely, dark haired girl only 2" shorter than he and weighing a solid, shapely 145 lbs. Ann had quickly became almost like a member of the Ketchum family, became a close friend of Andy's and like a big sister to Stacie, although Stacie at first resented Ann's efforts to get Andy dates with the smaller girls in her class. But the dates never seemed to work out; Andy seemed painfully shy, almost indifferent, with the girls Ann found for him, and she finally gave up trying. By his junior year Andy, who had reached his full height of 5'3" and weighed a slender 120 lbs., was unable to find a girl who would go out with him. Other than Stacie, of course, and he wanted no part of this tall, skinny seventh grader. Now the boys were seniors, and both, along with Ann, had enrolled at Stanford for the fall semester. And Stacie, an imposing, 5'7" eighth grader whose figure was just beginning to blossom, only had this summer to change his mind. But Andy had said he had bad news. She had to find out what it was! She reached the boulders and climbed over to a small area of sand in the center of the cluster. Sure enough, they were there, along with Ann, talking earnestly in quiet tones. "Hi!" she called. "What's goin' on?" She saw Andy grimace as he looked up and saw her, but Pete and Ann waved her down, and she quickly joined them. "Andy was just telling us that his father's been temporarily transferred to San Francisco, Stace," Pete told her. "He's leaving next week, and Andy and his mom will be going up there as soon as school lets out." Stacie's stomach wrenched, and suddenly she felt a little nauseous. She sat down on a flat rock, hoping her face didn't show what she was feeling and knowing it did. "For--for how long?" she asked finally. Andy shrugged. "Dad says it'll only be for three years, and then he'll be coming back to L.A.," he replied. "We're keeping the beach house, and we're going to rent it out. I'm really looking forward to spending a summer in San Francisco, but I'll miss you guys." He looked pointedly at Pete and Ann. "Oh." With an effort, Stacie composed herself and stood up. "Well, ah...I guess you'll be around for another couple'a months, so I, ah...I won't say good-bye, yet." She could hear her voice trembling and felt tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "I, ah...I'm gonna go back, now," she finished lamely and turned to scramble up the rocks and out of sight. There the tears came freely, and she stumbled blindly up the beach toward her house. There would be no summer to win Andy over before he went off to college, and after that she wouldn't even see him over holidays and their summer vacations! And for three whole years! By then he would surely have found a girl his size to get serious with, and she would have lost him forever! She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Ann through tear streaked eyes. "Want some company, Stace?" the older girl asked. "I could tell Andy's news hit you pretty hard." "Oh, Ann!" Stacie threw her arms around the older girl's neck. Ann listened sympathetically as Stacie poured out her woes and frustrations, and then, as Stacie finally lapsed into tearful silence, said, "Stace, listen to me. I don't think there's one chance in a thousand that Andy is going to find a girl to get interested in at college." "W-why not?" "Because he's not attracted to girls his size. It's the bigger, taller, more athletic girls who turn him on!" Stacie stared at her. "What makes you say that?" she asked. "I'm bigger and taller than he is, and he's never given me a second look!" "That's 'cause you're his best friend's kid sister, and he thinks of you as just a kid," Ann explained. To be honest with you, I didn't find it out myself until about a month ago. You've heard of Melanie Anderson, the girl on our track and field team who transferred to our school this year and runs marathons and throws the javelin?" "That great, big girl?" "Uh huh. Six feet tall, 185 stripped and all muscle! Not bad looking, either, but not in your class--or, at least, she won't be when you fill out. She lifts weights, and I hear she can bench almost 200 lbs. That's stronger than most of the boys in school." "What about her?" "You know Andy asked her out last month?" "You're kidding!" "Honest, Stace. She told me herself. She said Andy admit- ted it took him most of the school year to work up the nerve to ask her. She turned him down, of course--like most of the jocks, she's not interested in guys Andy's size--but she decided to tell me because she knew Andy's a close friend of ours and had heard that I'd been trying to get him dates during our freshman and sophomore years--apparently with the wrong kind of girls!" "Wow!" Stacie lapsed into silence, and Ann could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. Finally she asked, "Are you sure she wasn't making it up?" Ann smiled. "That's what I thought at first," she said, "although it didn't make sense why she would. So I told Pete. Pete said he nailed Andy to the wall when they were alone one night, and Andy finally admitted that he was only turned on by big, tall, muscular girls. He said he hadn't told us before because he was afraid we would think he was abnormal or something, or that Pete might get the idea he had the hots for me--I'm not exactly petite, you know!" Stacie bit her lip. "Wow!" she said again. "You think he does?" Ann shook her head. "No, he's too sweet a guy to try to come between Pete and me--not that he could if he wanted to! And that's my point: I don't know of a girl jock at our school who'd be interested in dating a guy his size, and I think the odds of his finding one at college are between slim and none. So, Stace, you've got three years, and I don't think I need to spell out for you what you have to do." "You think I could build muscles like that Melanie Anderson girl?" Stacie asked, her eyes wide with wonder and anticipation. Ann laughed. "Stace," she said, "With your build and genetics, I think in three years you could make her look like a peanut. But you'll have to work at it, and it's hard work. Go out for the strength sports, like swimming and some of the field events, and start working out with Pete's weights, starting right now! I'll have Melanie set up a workout and diet plan for you-- she's started to get into pure bodybuilding, so she'll know what to tell you. And you'll have Pete to help you, at least during the summers. By the time you see Andy again in three years, you could knock him dead and have him eating out of your hand!" "But I'll still only be in high school. He'll still think of me as just a kid..." "Not if you develop yourself the way I think you can," Ann replied. "No, I think there's only one question you have to ask yourself." "What's that?" "Whether as a great, big musclegirl you could still go for a guy half your size and no match for you in the strength department." Stacie giggled. "No need to worry about that!" she said. "I'm stronger than Andy right now. Every time I see him I just want to pick him up and squeeze him till he hollers!" "Then you two are a match! Go for it!" Ann put an arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. "Feel better, now?" Stacie grinned at her. "A ton! Thanks loads, Ann!" Within a week Ann had obtained and provided her with the necessary workout and diet instructions, but Stacie waited until the Sloan family moved to San Francisco to begin her workouts. At first Pete was reluctant to help her; while he admired the firm, trim bodies of female athletes like Ann, he regarded the sport of bodybuilding with condescension and amusement, and he jokingly accused the girls of trying to turn "his little sister into a 'mirror athlete' or a 'female Arnold'". But Ann prevailed on him, and he finally relented, setting up lighter weights for Stacie and spotting her during her workouts. Stacie even convinced him to teach her some wrestling moves. Stacie worked hard during the following summer, and her progress was phenomenal. By the vime Pete left for college, his initial attitude of disdain had become one of grudging admiration. Stacie had gained another inch of height and an additional ten pounds of firm, flexible muscle, and in their playful wrest- ling matches during that summer Pete was finding that he had to work harder every week to pin her. Privately, he confided to Ann, "I never realized how strong she was. If she keeps this up, in year or two she might even be able to beat me!" Privately, Stacie had already set this as one of her goals. She had become hooked on bodybuilding and had resolved to reach her full potential, not just for Andy, but because of the sense of power and self confidence she was beginning to feel. That fall Stacie joined the high school's swimming and track and field teams, specializing in the women's pentathlon, and, with her natural athletic ability, easily made both teams during her freshman year. She continued to work out diligently at home, in Pete's weight room and swimming laps in the long pool in the rear deck of the Ketchum house, and by the following summer had gained another three inches of height and thirty pounds of muscular weight. She could now look Pete straight in the eye, was only thirty-five pounds lighter than he, and was lifting all but his heaviest weights. Of course, Pete, too, had continued to work out. He had made the college wrestling team during his freshman year and had added another ten pounds of muscle to his burly frame. He had done well, and, although losing in the state finals, there was little doubt that he would eventually win his division. He was still much stronger than Stacie, but the difference between them had narrowed considerably. Furthermore, Stacie knew that he had been telling Andy about her activities and didn't want either them to know the full extent of the progress she had made. At Ann's suggestion, she deliberately held back in their joint workouts and wrestling matches during that summer, working out with the heavier weights only when she was alone and letting Pete win their playful matches more easily than he otherwise would have. Nevertheless, Pete was amazed at the size and strength of his 'little' sister. He was also impressed by the change in her appearance, and with good reason. Her once thin body had filled out into a curvaceous, smoothly muscular physique that literally glowed with good health, and her attitude and personality, while gracious and feminine, clearly reflected the power and self confidence she now felt. She had become an extraordinarily beautiful young woman, popular in her school, and, despite her height, dated frequently, graciously declining the many sexual advances and overtures to become serious she received. And she was missing Andy more and more. She had hoped that he would visit them during the summer, but a summer job had kept him in San Francisco, and she finally decided that it was just as well. She had not come close to reaching her peak, and that is when she wanted Andy to see her for the first time. During her sophomore year the fruits of her efforts began to really pay off. She gained another 2" in height and thirty-five additional pounds of solid muscle to her body, which was now becoming more defined and deeply cut. Her shoulders broadened with the development of powerful delts; her chest became a wide "V", with swelling lats tapering to a narrow waist that was a washboard of rippling muscle, and then flaring ever so slightly to tight, rounded hips, oaken thighs and hard, yet shapely, calves. Her arms, too, had thickened considerably, with baseball size biceps and heavy, deeply corded forearms. By New Years she had discovered that even Pete's heaviest weights did not give her adequate workouts and convinced her reluctant parents to add the additional weights she needed. These gains did not come without a price. With its greater definition, her body no longer had the buoyancy she needed to compete successfully in swimming. Reluctantly, she resigned from the team to concentrate on the pentathlon, where it was obvious that she would soon be setting state, and perhaps national, records. She had fewer dates, too, as more and more boys became wary of her size, muscularity and strength. Pete had spent the semester and Easter breaks competing at the regional and state wrestling meets, in both of which he won his division, and had been home only briefly during the Christmas break, spending part of the break with Andy in San Francisco. Thus, when he returned home the following summer, he was, totally unprepared for the beautiful and powerful young Amazon his little sister had become. Fifteen year old Stacie now towered a full 2" over her older brother, matched him pound for pound and muscle for muscle, and he was amazed and chagrined to discover that she could actually lift heavier weights than he. She immediately challenged him to another wrestling match, which he reluctantly accepted. This time Stacie did not hold back, and he found he had to use every trick he knew to avoid being pinned. They agreed that the match was a draw, but both he and Stacie knew that she would have won on points. There was a clear method behind Stacie's actions, and she enlisted Ann's support to convince Pete not to tell Andy how big and strong she had become. "After all," she warned him, only half-jokingly, "you wouldn't want everyone in college to know that their state wrestling champion can't even beat his little sister on the wrestling mat!" Under the circumstances, Pete had no choice but to agree, although, after thinking it through, he asked Stacie to continue working out and wrestling with him during the rest of the summer. "After all," he told her, "the best way to improve is to wrestle with someone bigger and stronger than I am! And I can still teach you a few moves you haven't learned yet!" By the end of the summer Stacie had picked up another 1/2" in height and 10 lbs. of weight, and was well on her way to reaching the 6'4" and 225 lbs. she would attain by the end of the school year. During her junior year her athletic prowess was earning her more publicity than she wanted, and periodically she would call Pete to confirm that Andy had not seen any of the reports of her athletic feats. This was the year that the Sloans would return to L.A., and that Andy would be literally swept off his feet by that skinny, little girl he had ignored for so many years! The Sloans did return in late June, after Pete and Andy had returned from college, and Andy, who had initially joined them in San Francisco, was with them. The day they arrived Pete and Ann went down to greet them, and Ann took Andy aside and said, "You know, Stacie can't wait to see you." Andy scowled. "I thought she would've gotten over that crazy, schoolgirl crush by now," he grumbled. "Am I going to have to fight her off again the whole summer?" Ann chuckled. "I don't think you'll be able to, now, Andy," she told him, "and I have a feeling you won't want to even if you could. She's really changed quite a bit! You may not even recognize her." Andy looked up at her quizzically. "Well, she always was a tall, pretty, little girl, and I imagine she's grown up a lot. But she's still just a high school kid--what would she be, now, 16? That's way too young for someone like me." Ann smiled and patted his cheek. "Well," she said, "you can humor her just this once, as a favor to me, okay?" Andy sighed. "Okay, I suppose so." He looked around. "Well, if she's so anxious to see me, where is she?" "She's waiting for you down by the rockpile. She wants to surprise you. I told her I'd send you down." Ann started to turn away, and then added, "Oh, by the way, the three of us are going out tonight for dinner at the Metropole Dance Club, and we want you to come with us, if you can make it." Andy gave her a long look out of the corner of his eye, "And I suppose I'm going to be Stacie's date, right?" "Right." Andy shrugged, mumbled something unintelligible under his breath and reluctantly strolled down the beach toward the pile of boulders at the water's edge. It was mid-afternoon, and the tide would soon be washing over the rocks, so, fortunately, he wouldn't have to stay long. He reached the base of the rocks and looked around. No Stacie. Probably in that center clearing they always used. He climbed over and down into the sandy clearing, but Stacie was nowhere to be seen. He crossed to the other side and stepped up on one of several low, flat rocks to see if she were hiding behind one of the larger boulders there. Not seeing her, he turned, scratched his head, and after several moments started back across the clearing. "Hi, Andy! Welcome home!" The voice was familiar, yet deeper and richer than he remem- bered, and exquisitely feminine. He had taken only a couple of step away from the rocks, and he turned to look straight into a long, flowing, white robe. He blinked, and then looked upward, past impossibly wide shoulders well above his head, into the dazzling smile and lovely features, framed in long blonde hair, of the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen, looming nearly a foot an a half above his own. "Stace?" he gasped. "Is that you?" "Uh huh. You like?" "You--you're gorgeous!" he stammered. "Come on down." Her laugh was like the pealing of a bell. "I AM down, silly!" He did a double take, looked quickly at the sand. Sure enough, long, slender feet, clearly visible under the robe and perched on high heeled sandals, were firmly planted in the sand in front of him. His jaw dropped as his eyes traveled up the towering figure to again feast on the lovely, smiling face so far above him, and, involuntarily, he fell back a step. "My God, Stace!" he whispered. "How tall are you?" She giggled. "Six four in my bare feet, six eight in these sandals, which, incidentally, I got just for you, since Ann tells me you like taller girls!" Andy's stomach was churning, and he felt his face getting red. "Well...ah, yeah." He was at a loss for words. "Sorta, I guess..." He hesitated. "What--what else did Ann tell you?" Stacie grinned mischievously. "That you like taller girls with...MUSCLES!" she replied. "Ta da!" And she whipped open the robe and, with a shrug, dropped it on the rocks behind her. Andy felt his entire body wrench, and he could only gape up in open mouthed awe at the towering mountain of massive, deeply cut, curvaceous muscularity looming above him. Wearing only a skimpy bikini, her body seemed carved in tan ivory. Broad, powerful shoulders at least a foot wide... Long, massive arms almost the size of his slender waist, with huge, clearly defined biceps and triceps and deeply corded forearms ending in beauti- fully shaped, perfectly manicured hands nearly twice as big as his own... A wide, deep chest with small, firm breasts barely covered by her tiny bikini top, tapering sharply to an impossibly narrow waist that was a washboard of solid muscle, then flaring to tight, rounded hips and glutes and massive thighs that seemed even bigger than his chest and ridged with powerful muscles that rippled in a sensuous dance when she moved... Huge, flexed, shapely calves that stood out in bold relief from the tension provided by the high heeled sandals she wore... And the whole, a miraculous blend of massive, sensuous muscularity and overpowering femininity that jolted his senses with the force of a sledgehammer. Andy's mouth was suddenly dry, his body trembling as strange, not unfamiliar sensations began coursing through his loins. His eyes were riveted on her giant figure as, slowly, sensuously, she raised her right arm to extend it straight out from her side above his head, clench her fist and then cock it, flexing a bicep as big as a softball. "Feel it, Andy," she commanded, and, like a man in a trance, he obeyed, reaching up to touch and press that bulging ball of muscle. It was hard as a rock. "My God!" he whispered again. "Are--are those muscles for real?" In answer, she reached down and slid her big, shapely hands under his armpits, her long, powerful fingers extending almost halfway around his narrow chest. Then, with no more effort than if he were a rag doll she lifted him bodily into the air and held him out at arm's length, his eyes almost level with hers, his feet dangling well over a foot off the sand. He stifled a cry as the pressure of her strong hands on his body and the sensation of utter helplessness he felt sent waves of carnal lust coursing through his small, trembling body. He was barely aware of the bulge in his shorts, stretched like a tent over a suddenly erect and throbbing flagpole. "Is this real enough for you, Andy?" she asked him softly. He couldn't answer her. Held helpless in her hands, her arms not even flexed from his weight, she seemed suddenly an invincible giantess, a towering figure of Amazonian beauty and unbelievable power who had stepped out of the most erotic of his dreams to take his small, puny body and make it hers... And she was Stacie, for Gods sake! Sixteen years old and the 'little' sister of his best friend! Then he was writhing in the grip of her hands, his mind and body at war with each other. "P-p-please!" he heard himself begging. "S-Stacie, p-p-please put me down!" Yet, deep down, in his loins, he wanted her to hold him, to feel the massive muscles of her powerful arms around his body, crushing him to her, making him part of her... "Not until I get a hello kiss, Andy," she whispered. "After all, it's been three years..." She was bringing him to her, then, one hand holding him securely in place, his eyes just below her own, while her other slid down his back to firmly cup both his buttocks and mash his throbbing erection against her hard, flat stomach, sending spasms of ecstasy shooting through him. He moaned, "No, no..." as her hand holding his chest rose to the back of his head, immobilized it, and then slowly forced it up to her waiting lips. He put both hands against her broad shoulders, pushing against her with all his strength, but she didn't seem to notice his struggles. "Your lips say no, Andy," she murmured, "but your body says yes..." And then her open mouth descended to capture his. Her tongue invaded and explored his mouth, entwining with his own tongue, spurring the flow of his saliva and taking it in exchange for hers. His resistance collapsed, his body the victor in the war with his mind, and, almost unconsciously, his arms slid around her neck, under her flowing hair, as he surrendered to her kiss. He was floating on a wave of desire, barely feeling the pressure of her hands and arms on his body, a prisoner in an embrace he wanted never to end. And when, at last, she released his mouth he clung to her, straining upward helplessly, trying to recapture that delicious moment that had come and gone in an eternity that now seemed like an instant. "Oh, Stacie," he breathed, "you're--you're so--so tall, so-- so strong...so beautiful!" She lowered her head to gently nuzzle his face with her lips. "We have to go, Andy," she murmured against his cheek. "Tide's coming in." Her hands shifted to his waist, and she moved him away from her, forcing his arms from around her neck, and set him on a low rock, above the water that was flowing into the clearing and around her sandaled feet. Then she was past him, gathering up her robe in a single, swift motion, to bound to the top of the pile, turn, and flash a dazzling smile down at him. "You're coming with us tonight, aren't you, Andy?" she asked. "I got a special outfit just for you!" Her words shocked him back to reality. He could see himself beside her, walking, dancing with her, hardly more than a midget on the arm of a giantess towering head and shoulders above him. "Stace..." he stammered, "I--I don't know..." She read the uncertainty in his eyes and laughed that pealing, bell laugh again. "Don't worry about my height, Andy," she told him. "Ann's wearing five inch heels tonight, so we'll both be taller than you boys! Be at our place at seven thirty." She hesitated, and then, her eyes twinkling, added, "Don't make me come get you, Andy!" And she was gone. He stood there on the rock for several minutes, his body weak and trembling as his erection slowly subsided, until the rising tide threatened to reach him. Then he fumbled and stumbled his way over the rockpile to the sand behind and toward his beach house, only steps ahead of the surging water. Had she meant that joking threat? Would she really invade his home and take him by force? She was certainly strong enough. God, how strong she was! He could almost feel her long fingers around his chest as she had so effortlessly held his 120 lbs. at arm's length off the sand. Was he to be the helpless love toy of this beautiful, Amazonian giantess, this sixteen year old child he had ignored for so many years? The thought simultaneously excited and repelled him. She was the complete embodiment of all his dreams--no, way beyond even his wildest dreams! A towering, MuscleGirl of incomparable strength and beauty, a superhuman Goddess of Love who, with no effort at all, could take his puny body and make it hers... But she was Stacie, for God's sake! The sister of his best friend! And only sixteen years old! My God! What would she be like when she was twenty-one?!? Back at the Ketchum house, Stacie was aglow. Ann and Pete had returned, but only Ann met her outside with the single question, "WELL?!?" Hugging herself in delight, Stacie told her, leaving nothing out. "Oh, Ann!" she gushed, "he was so cute, so beautiful! He tried to resist me at first, but I could tell he really didn't want to! And when I picked him up and kissed him, he just sort of melted into my arms, so soft and cuddly, like a little teddy bear! Oh, God! I wanted to rape him right then and there!" Ann chuckled. "I have a feeling it wouldn't have been rape," she replied. "But, if I can make a suggestion, don't push too fast. The poor, little guy has got to be overwhelmed by you, and you don't want to scare him off." Stacie giggled. "Don't worry," she said. "He's still a little skittish about my being younger and Pete's sister and all, and I think he had some second thoughts about going out in public tonight with a girl so much bigger and stronger than he is, but I can handle that. For the next couple of days I'm gonna turn him on and off like a faucet! By the time I make my move, he'll be begging for it!" She hesitated. "Oh, and by the way, I told Andy you were gonna wear 5" heels tonight, so both the boys would have to look up at us, and he wouldn't feel quite so conspicu- ous." "Pete will absolutely flip!" Stacie winked at her. "Leave my 'big' brother to me," she said. "I'll work on him, let him know how important it is to me, and, if I have to, I'll, ah...'reason' with him..." To emphasize her point, she flexed a massive bicep. Ann shook her head, laughing. She knew how fond these two were of each other and that Stacie would never do anything to hurt Pete. Nevertheless, she said, "I'm not sure I did Pete a favor getting you into muscle building. Okay, 5" it is, but I'll be counting on you!" She left to get ready for the evening, returning a little after seven in her best print dress and towering 6'2" in the promised high heels. She greeted Pete with a giggle and a coy, little peck on his forehead. Pete made a face at her and growled, "If it were anybody else but Stace..." Andy arrived twenty minutes later dressed, as was Pete, in a short sleeved sport shirt and slacks. He was clearly nervous and uncomfortable, but when he saw Ann he gaped up at her and gave a low whistle. "Wow!" Ann grinned. "Wait'll you see Stace!" she warned him, and then called up the stairs, "Okay, Stace, you can make your grand entrance now!" Stacie appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down at the waiting trio, towering and radiant in a low cut, white blouse with short sleeves and a ruffled neckline that ran almost to the end of her shoulders and emphasized the fullness and breadth of her upper body and the narrowness of her waist, a tight, char- treuse miniskirt and matching pumps with 5" spike heels. Her lustrous, blonde hair fell in smooth waves down her back and was crowned with a white rose on one side. She wore no makeup; with her deep tan, deep blue eyes and full, red lips, none was needed. She descended the stairs in a slow, sensuous walk, the powerful muscles of her arms and legs dancing and rippling with every move. Andy stood transfixed, his mouth open, unable to tear his eyes from her as she stopped in front of him and, with his eyes barely level with her breasts, tilted his head back with a fore- finger and bent down to plant a light kiss on his lips, envelop- ing his senses in the gentle scent of her perfume. "Hi, Andy," she greeted him softly, "I'm so glad you could make it." Then she stepped away from him and performed a graceful pirouette. "Well, what do you think?" "You're--you're--magnificent!" There was a lump in his throat, and the words came out as an almost inaudible squeak. Stacie's smile dazzled him. "Then the evening's off to a great start!" she murmured. "Shall we go?" For Andy the night at the Metropole seemed like a dream. All he could remember later was the closeness of her, her arm around him in the back seat of the car pressing his head against her shoulder, the feel of her hip and thigh rubbing against his in the booth as they ate, the looks of amused affection she gave him at the many glances he would steal of her lovely features and powerful, shapely body, and the feeling of being completely enveloped by her as they danced through the night to music fast and slow, oblivious to the stares of the other people in the club at this towering, gloriously beautiful young woman and her diminutive partner whose head seemed always buried between her breasts. Time seemed to stand still for him; he was conscious only of her until, at the evening's end, Pete pulled to a stop in front of the Ketchum home, and he and Ann turned to regard him and Stacie with knowing grins. Andy flushed as he realized that until then he had been barely conscious of the presence of his two close friends. "I--I guess I wasn't very good company tonight," he mumbled in apology. Stacie laughed and hugged him. "You were marvelous company, Andy," she told him, "and we all had a fantastic time. Now, come on in for a sec while I change into something more comfortable, and then I'll walk you home." "W--walk me home?" "Of course. It's two thirty in the morning. You didn't think I was going to let you walk home alone at this hour, did you?" Stacie smiled down at him. "Things have changed a little since you left, Andy. This area isn't quite as safe as it used to be. Isn't that right, Pete?" "Uh, yeah." A nudge from Ann's elbow prompted him to confirm the fib. Andy looked puzzled. "But, Stacie, you'd have to walk back alone..." Stacie laughed again. "Don't worry about that, Andy. No- body's going to mess around with me." That, at least, was true. Stacie and Ann escorted Andy inside while Pete put the car in the garage. Sandwiched between the two girls, his eyes level with Ann's shoulder and Stacie's breasts, Andy felt suddenly very conscious of his small stature, and he found that even Ann, whom he had never seen in such high heels before, was causing strange, unwanted sensations in his stomach, unwanted because she was Ann, his best friend's lover. He was relieved, therefore, when she kicked off her shoes and dropped into a chair while Stacie ran upstairs to change. "Well, Andy," she asked him, smiling, "what do you think of Stacie, now?" "She--she's unbelievable!" Andy looked at the floor and scuffed his feet uncomfortably. "If only she weren't so--so young..." He hesitated. "Do--do you think she really likes me? I mean, REALLY likes me. I know she's had a crush on me for a long time, but that's kid stuff. It's hard to believe that a girl like her could go, I mean REALLY go, for a guy like me..." "Why not? You're a sweet, lovable guy when you're being yourself. And from all appearances tonight, she really likes you a lot. Whether that's still her schoolgirl crush or something more serious, only time will tell. I think a lot of that will depend on you. If you keep worrying about the age difference... well, look at it this way: when you're 24, she'll be 20, and when you're 30, she'll be 26. That's not too young for you." "I suppose so." Andy shook his head. "It's just that she's so much bigger and stronger than I am..." Ann laughed. "I thought bigger, stronger girls were the kind that turned you on," she said. Andy flushed. "They do," he admitted, "but Stacie's SO much bigger and stronger...and so beautiful! I have to believe that she could have any guy she wanted, instead of having to settle for a--a peanut like me!" Ann leaned forward. Her eyes captured his and held them. "Andy," she replied evenly, "have you ever stopped to think that YOU might be exactly the kind of guy that turns HER on?" Andy froze, his stomach churning again. "You--you really think so?" Ann shrugged. "That's for the two of you to find out," she replied. At that point Stacie came tripping down the stairs, dressed in shorts and a halter and the platform sandals she had worn that afternoon. "Talkin' about me?" she asked playfully, then, without waiting for an answer, took Andy's arm and pulled him toward the sliding door to the rear deck. "C'mon, Andy, we'll walk down the beach. See ya later, Ann!" Andy barely had time to say good-bye to Ann before he was literally swept out the door and down the stops to the beach, where Stacie slipped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close to her, pressing his head against the side of her chest below her armpit. She shortened her stride to match his, and smiled down at him. "It's great having you back, Andy," she said softly. "I really missed you. I hope you had a good time tonight." "I did, Stace," he confessed. "I really did." The closeness of her, and the delicious smell of her body in the night air were beginning to do things to him again. "You weren't uncomfortable, were you, Andy, being out with a high school girl, you being a junior in college and all?" From her tone and the look on her face, she was teasing him, now, and he decided to play along. "As a matter of fact, I was, a little," he replied with a grin, "but not in the way you mean." "Why, Andy!" She looked down at him archly, but her eyes were twinkling. "Are you saying I was turning you on? Shame on you! After all, I'm only sixteen years old!" Her reaction confused him, and he wasn't sure what to say next. She was obviously baiting him, or was she just playing hard to get? He thought a moment before replying, "Well, ah, I guess it's hard to think of you as, ah, only sixteen. You're so tall and...and so...mature looking..." She giggled. "You didn't always think that way, Andy," she told him. He was about to respond when his right foot landed on some- thing hard and crooked in the sand. He felt a sharp pain in his ankle, and a momentary dizziness, and heard a small cry that he realized had come from himself. He felt himself starting to fall, but the pressure of her arm around him held him up. "Andy! Are you all right? What happened?" It was Stacie's voice, seemingly coming from far away. "I--I think I stepped on something and...and hurt my ankle." It was his voice, but he wasn't sure he was speaking. He shook his head, and the world slowly came back in focus. He looked up into Stacie's lovely eyes, peering down at him anxiously. "Is there someplace where I can sit down for a minute?" The pain was ebbing, but he could feel an ominous throbbing in his ankle. He looked around. There was a cement bench at the edge of the sand about twenty feet away. But before he could speak, he felt her arm slide around his waist, tighten, and then he was lifted off the sand as Stacie tucked him securely under one arm, carried him quickly to the bench and gently sat him down on it. She knelt before him in the sand, pushed his trouser leg up away from the injured ankle and felt it gingerly. "That hurt?" she asked. It did. Andy nodded, feeling foolish. "It's starting to swell. Do you think you sprained it?" "I don't think so, but let me try to put some weight on it." He pushed himself up off the bench, and Stacie quickly put her hands under his armpits to support him as he carefully tested the ankle. "No," he said finally, "I think it's just twisted. I--I do that now and then." "Can you walk on it?" He put more weight on the ankle and winced. "Just barely." Stacie bit her lip, hiding a faint grin. "Then I guess I'm just going to have to carry you the rest of the way," she said. She stooped and, slipping one arm around his chest, under his armpits, and the other behind his thighs, swept him up off the sand to cradle him securely in her powerful arms, cuddled tightly against her bosom. He gasped, and the ankle was forgotten as his stomach started churning again. He looked up at her beautiful, larger than life features and saw that she was now making no attempt to hide her grin. "I was looking for an excuse to do this, anyway," she added. "You--you were?" "Uh huh." She bent her head and nuzzled his cheek. "You're so little and cute and cuddly, just like a little doll, a cute, little, rag doll. Now, put your arms around my neck and lay your head on my shoulder, Andy, while I carry you home." "But--but aren't I heavy? My house is a couple of blocks away!" She laughed outright. "Andy," she told him, "you only weigh 120 lbs., and, to me, you're as light as a feather. I can barely feel your weight. I could carry you around like this all day!" He looked up at her in awe. "You--you're amazing!" he whispered, and slipped his arms around her broad back and chest and buried his face in the base of her neck, feeling so deliciously small and defenseless cradled in her arms. And with that feeling, growing sensations of desire... She gave another, low laugh and set off along the beach, gliding through the sand to keep his ride as smooth and comforta- ble as possible. Actually, with his small body almost completely enveloped from his shoulders to his knees in the massive muscles of her long, powerful arms and her broad, firm bosom and his head pressed hard against her shoulder, Andy was in ecstasy. For the first time in his life he was living a dream, the helpless captive in the arms of a beautiful, Amazon giantess. He wanted this journey never to end. Looking down, Stacie saw the growing bulge in his trousers and giggled. "I can see you like being carried in my arms, too!" she murmured. "Would you like me to take the long way home, Andy?" "Oh, Stacie!" She was teasing him again, for there was no longer way to his house, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. "But don't you feel embarrassed, Andy, being carried around so easily in the arms of a sixteen year old high school girl?" He felt his face redden. "Stacie, please!" On impulse, he tightened his arms around her shoulders and kissed the base of her neck. He felt her arms tighten around him momentarily, and then she was holding him away from her and looking down at him, her face a mask of amused reproval. "Why, Andy!" she exclaimed. "Shame on you! Are you trying to turn me on?" "Stacie, no! I mean--" "You just better behave yourself, Andy, or when I get you home I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank you! You wouldn't want me to do that, would you, Andy? Think of how it would feel, a grown man like you being spanked like a naughty, little boy by a sixteen year old girl!" She couldn't hide the laughter in her eyes, and, looking up at her, he knew she didn't mean it. Nevertheless, her words sent spasms of desire through his body. He knew she was easily capable of carrying out her threat, and that knowledge made him want her even more... "Now, you just snuggle up to me and lay your head back on my shoulder, Andy. And behave yourself. We're almost there." He sighed. "Whatever you say, Stacie," he whispered and did as he was told. Was there another, imperceptible tightening of her arms around his body? All too soon she was carrying him up the back steps of the Sloan beach house and lowering him gently to his feet, supporting him with a single arm around him to lighten the weight on his injured ankle. As he fumbled for his key, she suggested, "Maybe we ought to wake your parents so they can help you get into bed. You don't want to walk around too much on that ankle." He shook his head as he unlocked and opened the door. "They're not home," he told her. "They went down to Orange County to pick up some stuff at my aunt's house, and they're staying overnight." "You mean you're all alone in the house?" He nodded. "'Fraid so. Unless..." He stopped, suddenly embarrassed at the thought that had crossed his mind. He looked up at her quickly, hoping she hadn't caught it. Her eyes were dancing. "Well," she said with finality, "I guess that means I'm just going to have to put you to bed my- self." Before he could react, he was swept up in her arms again. "Would you like that, Andy? Would you like me to tuck you in?" "But--but, Stacie, surely you're not...you're not going to...undress me!" "Well, of course I am, Andy!" She was already through the door, backing it closed, and carrying him up the stairs to his bedroom. "After all, what are friends for? And it won't be the first time I've seen you without any clothes on. Have you for- gotten how often we used to go skinny dipping in the ocean when we were kids?" The door to his bedroom was open. She went through it and, holding him in one arm, pulled down the covers on his bed before depositing him on it with his feet up and his back against the headrest. Ignoring his verbal protests, she unbuttoned and removed his shirt and, sitting at the foot of the bed, pulled off his shoes and socks. Then, grinning mischievously, she undid his trousers. With one hand under his back lifting his buttocks off the bed, she pulled them and his shorts down his legs and off, running her hands down and gently massaging his soft flesh with her fingers as she did so and leaving his naked body and stiff, throbbing erection fully exposed. She giggled and lightly patted his stomach. "Really, Andy," she chided him, "I'm gonna have to do something about those boners you keep getting!" His face flushed a deep crimson. "I--I'm sorry, Stace! I-- I can't help it. You're so--so--" "Shhhh!" She put a finger to his lips. "Jammies in the closet?" He nodded silently. She got them and put them on him, again letting her hands and fingers play along his naked skin, but ignoring the tent his pajama shorts formed over his erect penis. "Now," she told him firmly, "Stacie's gonna tuck you in all safe and snug, and you're gonna go to sleep like a good, little Andy. Aren't you?" His face clearly showed the agony he felt. "I don't know I can, Stacie..." he whispered. "Hmmmm!" She looked around and spied a wooden rocking chair in a corner. "Tell you what, Andy," she murmured. How would you like me to curl you up on my lap and rock you to sleep?" "I--I'd like that, Stacie..." he whispered. She grinned, gathered him up in her arms, carried him over to the chair, sat down on it and placed him on her lap, reaching around him to tuck his legs up behind his thighs and press him close to her. He sighed and laid his head on her shoulder, looking up at her lovely features worshipfully as she began to rock him gently. One of his shoulders was tucked under her armpit and his arm pinned against the back of the chair, but his other arm was free, and he reached up and slipped it around her neck. She smiled and lightly nibbled his forehead. "Isn't this nice, Andy?" she whispered. "Uh huh." He tried to snuggle closer to her. "You know what, Andy?" "What?" "Holding you on my lap like this, you're just like a little, rag doll I have, a little Raggedy Andy doll, except I had its hair dyed black like yours and the face painted to look just like you. Well, not exactly like you, but close enough. Every night when I go to bed I hug that little doll and cuddle its head on my shoulder, just like I'm doing to you, now." "R--really?" "Really. Except that now I have a real, live, little Raggedy Andy doll to hug and cuddle and play with." She tilted his head back with a forefinger, forcing him to look up at her as she smiled down into his eyes. "How about it, Andy?" she asked him softly. "Would you like to be my little, Raggedy Andy doll?" Her words cut through his stomach like a knife. "Is--is that all I am to you, Stacie? A--a doll?" She feigned surprise. "Of course not, Andy!" she exclaimed. "Why, you're our best friend ever! But you're so little and soft and cute, I just love to pick you up and hug and cuddle you, even better than my Raggedy Andy doll. And you like it, too, don't you, Andy?" He lowered his eyes, unable to look at her. "Yes," he answered softly. "So, will you be my little Raggedy Andy doll, Andy?" He closed his eyes and buried his face in her neck to hide his despair, failing to see the smirk of satisfaction on her face. "I--I'll be whatever you want me to be, Stacie," he whispered. "Great! Now, it's time to put my little Raggedy Andy back to bed and tuck him in all safe and sound...upsey daisy!" She slipped one arm around his thighs and stood up, lifting him with her, and carried him over to lay him back on the bed and draw the covers over him, tucking them under his chin. She sat down on the bed next to him and leaned down to lightly nibble his open mouth with parted lips. "I really hope your ankle's better by tomorrow morning," she said softly. "If it is, you will come over, won't you?" "I--it's feeling better. It should be all right by morning. This has happened before, and it usually gets better overnight." "Then why don't you stop by around eleven? You can help me with my workout. I usually work out starting around nine, but it's so late I'm gonna sleep in a little tomorrow and start at eleven." She grinned impishly. "If you behave yourself, I might even let you feel my muscles," she added, and her eyes became suddenly heavy lidded. "All of them. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Andy?" He closed his eyes, not sure how answer her. He knew she was toying with him, but she was everything he had ever wanted in a girl, and more. He didn't want to risk losing her until she had played out her game to whatever end she had in mind. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll be over." She leaned down and kissed him lightly again. "Good night, my little Raggedy Andy," she whispered. "I'll dream of you tonight and wish my little rag doll was you..." "Oh, Stacie!" But she was gone. He lay there, wide awake, feeling the agonies of frustration ravage his body. At last he reached over to his night stand to set his alarm for ten, knowing there would be little sleep for him this night... Back at the Ketchum house, Ann was waiting on the rear deck when Stacie arrived. Stacie was surprised to see her. "Pete asked me to stay the night in the guest room," she explained. "He didn't want me driving home alone this late. Besides, I wanted to stay and find out what happened between you and Andy. You were sure gone long enough!" Stacie was positively giddy. "Ann," she bubbled, "you won't believe this, but he twisted his ankle, and I had to carry him practically all the way home, cradled in my arms like a little baby!" "You're kidding!" "I swear to God! And not only that, but when we got to his place, his parents weren't there! So I carried him up to his bedroom, undressed him and tucked him in bed! Told him I couldn't let him walk on that bad ankle of his." "And that's all? You just put him in bed and left?" Stacie grinned. "Well, I held him on my lap and rocked him for a while. Oh, God, Ann! He was so precious! I just wanted to eat him up! I really think he's crazy about me! Every time I picked him up he'd get a boner as big as a flagpole!" Ann threw back her head and laughed. "You 'think' he's crazy about you? I'll tell the world he is! Good God, girl, are you blind? He couldn't see anybody but you all night. You had him eating out of your hand. Did you tell him how you felt?" Stacie shook her head. "Not really. He thinks I think of him as a little doll to play with, and it's driving him nuts. I'm going to keep him thinking that for the next day or two, keep him dangling on my string, pump him up and then shut him down." "Stacie, that's positively sadistic! Why? I know I told you before to play it cool, but that's before I saw him with you tonight. You could have him for the asking! Why torture the poor, little guy?" Stacie grinned evilly. "I want to give him a taste of what it was like for me all those years," she replied, "pining away for him and having him ignore me!" Then she laughed. "Don't worry, Ann. I won't be able to hold out for long. I love him too much!" A thought struck her, and she was suddenly serious. "I do have one problem, though," she said, "that I was kinda hoping maybe you could help me with." "What's that?" Stacie hesitated for a long moment, looking at the ground. "Ann," she said finally, "I--I'm a...a virgin! I--I've been saving myself for Andy, and now that I've almost got him, I--well, when I make my move on him, I'm not sure I'm gonna know what to do!" Ann came to her and took the bigger girl in her arms and hugged her. "Stace," she said quietly, "if any other girl in your school told me that, I probably wouldn't believe her. But in your case, I don't think I could believe anything else. Being a virgin is nothing to be ashamed of. I was a virgin when Pete and I started going together--incidentally, so was Pete, and don't ask me how I know! I just do! I think that was a big part of why we fell in love with each other." "Was? You mean you're not now? Virgins, I mean." Ann reached up and punched her lightly on the chin. "That, young lady, is none of your business, Freudian slip or no Freud- ian slip. The point is, after we'd been going together for a couple of years and knew we were going to get married after college, we both decided that--well, we both wanted our wedding night to be...well, special, if you know what I mean, something to look forward to and cherish afterward. Not very many people think that way nowadays, but it sure has worked for us!" Stacie looked puzzled. "Are--are you saying I shouldn't make love to Andy?" "No, I'm not saying that at all. As a matter of fact, if you don't, you'll probably drive the poor, little guy batty! All I'm saying is that, if you two eventually decide that this is going to be something permanent...well, that's a long way down the road, and I don't think you have to worry about it now." Stacie shook her head vigorously. "No, it's not," she retorted. "I've already decided that there's only one person that's going to have this body, and that's Andy! I developed this body for him, and he's the only one who'll ever have it!" Ann started to say something, then caught herself and laughed. "You know, I was going to make a comment about how young you are until I remembered that I was about your age when I said the same thing about Pete." "But," Stacie made a helpless gesture, "like you said, I want our first time to be something special for him, for both of us. I know I'm gonna hafta take the lead, but I'm not sure I know what to do!" Ann smiled and hugged her again. "There, I think I might be able to help you," she chuckled. "Come on upstairs with me, Stace. You and I are going to have a lo-o-o-ng talk!" * * * It was almost ten thirty when Andy realized he'd slept through the alarm. After checking his ankle to make sure it was almost as good as new, he took a hurried shower, ran a razor over his face, and, after throwing on a polo shirt and shorts, was at the Ketchum house at eleven fifteen. Pete was having breakfast on the rear deck when he ran up, bleary eyed and almost out of breath. "Stacie around?" he asked the bigger boy. Pete nodded toward the house. "She's downstairs workin' out," he replied through a mouthful of toast. "She was askin' for you earlier, but I guess she decided you weren't comin'." "Overslept. Ok if I go downstairs?" "Hell, yes. Go ahead." Andy hesitated. "Your dad and mom around?" Pete shook his head. "Shoppin'. Won't be back 'till late this afternoon. Why?" "Uh, no reason. Just wondering. See you later." He went downstairs to find Stacie, dressed in shorts, a halter and tennis shoes, walking briskly uphill on an inclined treadmill in a corner of the game room. She wasn't breathing hard, but the muscles of her legs pumped and bulging from the effort. He had never been in this room before and noticed a number of heavy looking dumbbells lying on a heavy mat near the treadmill and several, large machines he didn't recognize. "Hi, Andy!" she greeted him without stopping. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming. What happened? Oversleep?" He nodded. "Slept right through the alarm. It, ah...took me a while to get to sleep after you left." She clucked her tongue sympathetically. "I can't imagine why," she said wryly. "How's the ankle?" "Oh, it's okay. Little tender, but I can walk on it." "Great!" She switched off the treadmill and jumped off. "You can help me with my workout. But first I want a good morning kiss from my little Raggedy Andy doll." She bounced over to him and, before he could react, gripped him firmly, but gently, around his slender waist and effortlessly lifted him high into the air, tilting him forward before his head hit the high ceiling to plant a light kiss on his open mouth. Then, just as quickly, she set him back on his feet and, with her hands around his waist to hold him in place, grinned down at him. Without her high heels, his eyes were almost level with her collar bone, and the quick lift and kiss and the feel of her hands around his waist were having the predictable effect. She saw the growing bulge in his shorts, heaved a giggling sigh and released him. "Really, Andy, another boner? You really must like being picked up by girls! Too bad you're so light, or I could use you in my workouts. You're a lot more fun to lift than those old barbells!" He flushed, started to say something, then decided to try to change the subject. Indicating the several, unfamiliar machines on either side of the treadmill, he asked, "What--what are those for?" "Nautilus machines, Andy," she replied. "Pete and I use them for exercises we can't do with free weights, like leg curls and presses, things like that. And bench presses when I want to max out. I'd rather bench with free weights, but when you max you need someone strong enough to spot you--that means help you control the weight and get it back on the bar for you." "Can't Pete do that?" She shook her head. "Almost, but he's not quite strong enough." Andy gaped up at her in awe. "You--you're stronger than Pete?" She laughed at that. "Of course I am, Andy! I'm a lot bigger than he is and have bigger muscles. And I can pin him in wrestling, too, almost every time." She was suddenly serious, and put a finger to her lips. "But that's our secret, Andy. Don't you dare tell anyone! Pete would be absolutely devastated if word got out that his 'little' sister could beat him at wrestling, him being state champion and all." Andy shook his head in wonder. "My, God, Stacie! How--how strong are you?" "Well, I--" Stacie hesitated, looked around, and then motioned to two barbells lying next to a low bench. Both had heavy looking weights attached to short bars no more than a foot and half in length. One was significantly larger than the other. "Maybe I should show you," she said. "See those single handed weights over there? Get that smaller one for me, would you?" Andy gave her a quizzical look, but went over to the smaller barbell, and, reaching down with both hands, tried to lift it. It felt like it weighed a ton, and he got it only a couple of inches off the mat before a sharp pain through the middle of his back forced him to drop it. "Good lord!" he gasped. "How heavy is this thing, anyway?" Stacie giggled. "It's only eighty pounds, silly! You mean you can't lift that little thing?" She walked over to the bar- bell and, to Andy's consternation, picked it up with one hand. Holding it out in front of her, her giant biceps bulging from the effort, she did a dozen one arm curls with it. Andy couldn't help but note that the last several curls were done somewhat more slowly and with considerably greater strain showing on her face and arms. She then transferred the barbell to her other hand and repeated the exercise in the same manner, lowering it gingerly to the mat after the twelfth curl. "Whew!" she gasped. "Eighty pounds is about my max for twelve reps, but twelve reps to exhaustion is what you're supposed to do." Andy could only gape up at her, speechless at the feat he had just witnessed. "You--you mean you could lift heavier weights than that with fewer repetitions?" he was finally able to croak. She laughed. "Oh, sure! I've done a hundred for two reps, but they say you're not supposed to do that. Tends to tear down the muscles instead of building them up." He was sweating, now. "A hundred pounds! That--that's almost as much as I weigh!" She looked down at him with unconcealed amusement. "Andy," she told him, "I could curl you with one hand easily if I could hold you and get you balanced right. Your weight's not solid and not as concentrated as a barbell. Here, look at this." She stepped over to the bigger barbell, shook her arms several times to loosen the muscles, and then bent down, grasped the center of the bar with one hand and heaved the barbell up to her shoulder. Then, bending to get her shoulder under it, with a second heave she pressed it directly overhead. "This is a hundred and seventy pounds," she told him, her voice hard from the effort. "With two hands, I can do two eighty. That's a world record for women, and I haven't come close to reaching my peak yet." She moved out from under the barbell and dropped it, guiding it gently to the mat, and then turned to smile down at him. Andy swallowed, licking lips that were suddenly dry. No wonder she thought of him as a doll! Her strength was positively frightening! And yet, so devastatingly alluring... Suddenly she was in front of him, still smiling down at him, holding him transfixed with an amused, almost hypnotic gaze. She was bending over him, reaching down with her right hand, and he felt her slide it between his thighs to firmly, but gently, encompass his crotch. He gasped, grabbed her wrist with both his small hands and instinctively strained to force her hand away, even as his penis stiffened against the gradually increasing pressure of her palm and a wave of ecstasy flooded his lower body. He felt her other hand gently grasp his upper arm, and then his feet left the floor, and she was holding his entire weight in the palm of her single hand in front of her, his eyes level with hers and his feet dangling a foot off the floor, her other hand holding his arm gently for balance. Her smile became mischievous as she continued to hold him, her only sign of effort a flexing and a slight quivering of the massive bicep of her right arm. Another gasp escaped his lips as her fingers and thumb lightly tickled his anus and a penis that was struggling to become erect. He did not speak, but his eyes, which had never left hers, were begging her to take him. Then she was lowering him, turning him and tilting him backward, and, as the hand holding his arm moved to the back of his neck, raising him again to capture his open mouth with hers. He moaned softly in his helplessness as their salivas mingled, her tongue probed his, and her hand continued to intimately toy with his privates. His hands left her wrist and reached up to entwine around her neck in sweet surrender to her embrace, only to have her release his mouth and move him away from her. "My little Raggedy Andy doll is distracting me from my workout," she murmured as she carried him over to a stool and sat him down on it, "and it's obvious you're not strong enough to help me, so you just sit here and behave yourself till I'm finished." But the thoughts went unspoken. Instead he remained motionless on the stool, rapt with awe, admiration and desire as she returned to her workout. Huge weights beyond anything he would have dreamed possible for a girl to handle were benched, pressed, pulled and pushed. Each exercise was described in detail for him, but he scarcely heard her words. Barely aware of his now throbbing erection, his eyes and mind were filled with the magnificence of her body as each muscle group was worked and pumped to massive, glistening perfection. Finally, dripping with perspiration, her wide, deep chest heaving from her exertions and her towering figure a mass of lustrous, oaken muscularity, she turned to face him. "Would you like to feel my muscles, now, Andy?" she asked him softly. He couldn't answer her. His mouth was dry, and he was sweating as much as she. Like a man in a dream, a humble servant approaching a Goddess, he slid off his stool and moved unsteadily to stand in front of her, looking up at her in adoration and drinking in the body scents from her exertions as though it were the rarest of perfumes. She took his small wrists, placed his hands on her shoulders next to her neck, and then hunched her shoulders and flexed, all but enveloping her throat and neck in huge, bulging traps that were like smooth, curved rocks, slippery to his touch. She moved his hands across her delts to her upper arms, released his wrists and, straightening her arms, flexed them. "Feel my arms, Andy," she whispered, and he obeyed, probing with trembling hands her massive, rock hard biceps and triceps and the deep cuts separating them, and then down her thick, strongly corded forearms, shaking his head in disbelief as he did so. She was unreal, a living statue of steel and velvet, an overwhelming Goddess of beauty and power in whose body he longed to be enclosed. "Now my lats," she told him, and, pushing her shoulders forward, tensed her upper body. Wide curves of solid muscle exploded under her smooth skin and the straps of her halter, extending several inches out under her arms and accentuating to an impossible degree the already wide "V" of her massive chest. "Pete calls these my 'wings'," she chuckled. "He says if they were any wider I could fly." Still trembling with the pulsations of his throbbing erection, Andy ran his hands lightly around her sides, then, almost unconsciously, up to her chest toward the halter and her small, firm breasts underneath. She quickly gripped his wrists and, smiling, moved them down to her hard, flat stomach. "Only the muscles, Andy," she rebuked him softly. "Behave yourself and the rest of me might come later... But, for now, run your hands over my abs. Feel how hard they are. And my legs--Andy, you HAVE to feel my legs!" He flushed, but complied, his mind reeling from the strength of his desire. His fingers played lightly over the rock hard washboard of her stomach, then her glutes, and then he was on his knees before her, worshipping with his tiny hands the massive, rippling muscles of thighs bigger than his chest. Was that a sigh--or a soft moan--he heard as his fingers played over the bulging, inner thighs surrounding her womanhood? The impulse was too much for him, and he surrendered to it, wrapping his arms around her huge thighs as far as they would reach and passionate- ly covering them with kisses. He heard her gasp, felt her hands gripping his upper arms and pulling them away. His body was wrenched as he was heaved up off his knees and into the air, and then crushed against her titanic chest, her arms around him pinning his to his sides and forcing the air from his lungs as her open mouth engulfed his. He struggled to return her embrace, but he was helpless. The room began to spin, and he closed his eyes, barely able to breathe and not caring, wanting only to melt into and become a part of the magnificently beautiful and powerful body that held him captive. There was a moment of blackness. When he opened his eyes she was cradling him gently in her arms, looking down at him with heavy lidded eyes. Her face was flushed. Had he glimpsed a fleeting expression of desire there? But it was gone before he could be sure, and there was only that same, mischievous grin. "I think, my little, Raggedy Andy doll," she murmured, "that we both need to cool off a little. Wanna go for a dip in the pool?" "I--I didn't bring my swimming trunks with me," he whispered. The chagrin he felt, from both her suggestion and the loss of his erection, was clearly reflected in his voice. But she was already carrying him upstairs. "You won't need them," she told him. "Or have you forgotten last night already?" She giggled. "Besides, I never wear anything when I swim in the pool." Pete was in the living room reading a magazine when Stacie emerged from the stairway with Andy cradled securely in her arms. He did a double take, muttered something intelligible to himself and went back to his magazine as Stacie disappeared out the back door to the rear deck. The pool was approximately half-Olympic size and separated from the rest of the deck by a solid, ten foot wooden wall with a single door next to the house. Stacie pushed it open with her shoulder, carried Andy through and backed it closed before depositing Andy on one of the several lounges and deftly removing his polo shirt, shorts, shoes and socks, followed quickly by her own, brief outfit. It was the first time since his return that Andy had seen her completely naked, but he had little time to enjoy the view. She reached down, slid one hand under his buttocks, took his shoulder with her other, and pitched him headfirst through the air into the center of the pool. Fortunately, Andy was an excellent swimmer and diver, and, despite his surprise, was able to kick up his feet and hit the water cleanly. He came up on the other side of the pool in water well over his head and held on to the edge of the deck while he looked around for Stacie. She had followed him in, and a second later surfaced in front of him to plant light kiss on his nose, and then plunged back under water to circle the pool with long, powerful strokes, surfacing again next to him in less than a minute. "You--you're a terrific swimmer!" Andy told her, not sure of what else to say. She laughed and shook the water out of her long hair. "Not good enough to stay on the swim team," she replied. "With as little body fat as I have, I'm like a stone!" "I don't see any body fat." Her eyebrows raised, and she cupped her small breasts in her hands. "So? Whatta ya think these are? They ain't muscles, that's for sure!" Her eyes became suddenly heavy lidded. "If they were, I'd've let you feel them downstairs. Remember? You tried!" He felt himself getting redfaced again, and it didn't help when she swung around in front of him and placed her hands on the edge of the deck on either side of his shoulders. Then he realized that she was standing on the bottom of the pool. He looked longingly up into her eyes. "Stacie, I--" "Shhh!" She kissed him lightly, cutting him off. "You're gonna get me all hot and bothered again, and don't forget, I'm only sixteen years old!" Flashing him that same mischievous grin, she went under water again and circled the pool several times, surfacing only long enough to catch a breath before ducking under again. His loins aching from frustration, Andy swam to the other side of the pool and pulled himself up and out. There were two towels on one of the lounges. He took one, dried himself off and was finished dressing as Stacie, too, emerged from the pool. Somewhat sheepishly, he handed her the second towel, and, to his relief, she wrapped it around her. "I'm gonna go down to the beach and sunbathe for a couple of hours," she told him. "Wanna get your swimming trunks and join me?" "Just--just the two of us?" "Probably. Pete's probably working out downstairs, and Ann's not coming over till later, around five or so." She grinned down at him. "Why? Not afraid of me, are you? The beach may be private, but we WILL be in the open in broad daylight!" She was doing it to him again! But, like an insect drawn to a burning torch, he couldn't help himself. He shook his head resignedly and said, "I'll get my trunks, grab some lunch and see you in about a half hour." She was waiting for him on the beach, just above the high tide line, when he returned. She was stretched out on her back on a huge blanket with her head on an inflatable pillow, wearing the same bikini she had worn the day before. She sat up when he walked up. "Oh, good! You can lotion up my back for me!" He didn't answer her, but sat down behind her, took the squeeze bottle she handed him and began rubbing the lotion into her broad shoulders and massively muscled back. Several times he hesitated, wanting so much to press his face against and kiss that marvelously powerful, "V" shaped torso before him, but he knew that doing so would merely provoke more teasing, and so he resisted the temptation. He finished and handed her back the bottle. "Want me to do you?" she asked, looking back at him coyly out of the corner of her eye. "No," he said quietly, "thank you." She turned around and looked fully into his downcast features. "Why so glum, Andy?" He wanted to scream, But he only looked away from her and said, "It's nothing. I just didn't get much sleep last night, that's all." "Aw! Poor baby!" She moved back next to him and put a heavy arm around his shoulders. "But you really should let me lotion you up, Andy. This sun could give you an awful sunburn." "I--I don't think I'm going to be here that long, Stacie." He couldn't look at her. "As a matter of fact, I think I ought to go back now and take a nap. I'm awfully tired." She nuzzled his cheek. "You could take a nap here." "W--what?" She reached back and moved her pillow into position and laid back on the blanket, gently pulling him down with her and man- euvering his head onto her shoulder. "Right here," she said, "on my shoulder." Her arm slid around his back and pressed his small body against her side, and, with her free hand, she reached over him and drew the blanket over him. "See? Isn't this nice and comfy? And the blanket will keep you from getting too much sun." He closed his eyes, suddenly oblivious to everything but the closeness of her. "Oh, Stacie..." he whispered. "Shhhh!" She put a finger to his lips. "Snuggle up to me and go to sleep, my little Raggedy Andy doll..." That did it. He threw the blanket off him, slid out from under her arm and jumped to his feet. "No, dammit!" he almost screamed. "Wha--Andy! What's wrong?" Her surprise, even shock, was genuine. "What's wrong? What's wrong?" he mimicked her. "What's wrong is that I'm not a doll! I'm a man, dammit! A man! I'm not a doll!" He whirled blindly away from her. And then the reality of what he was, and what he could never be, struck home. And with it, a sense of hopelessness. He turned back to her, barely seeing her through the tears in his eyes. "No, Stace," he choked, "you're right. I'm sorry. I--I never realized it before, but I could never be anything but--but a doll to you--I could never be a man to you! I wish I could be your little Raggedy Andy doll, anything you wanted me to be! But I can't! Not any more! I have to be a man, and that's the one thing I can't be to you!" "Andy! Wait--" But he was running. Away from her. Back down the beach, stumbling, staggering, unseeing through his tears. Only when he passed the rockpile did he realize he had come too far. But had he? He wanted to keep running, away from everything, from what he was and what he could never be... And then he realized how tired he really was. He stopped, suddenly exhausted, mentally, physically, emotionally, took a deep breath, and stumbled back to his house and to bed. It was almost dark when he awoke. He felt like someone, a giant--or, perhaps, a giantess--had stepped on him. He was still wearing his swimming trunks. He felt his way into the bathroom, splashed water on his face, changed into a polo shirt and shorts and went down to the living room. There was a note on the mantle from his parents: "Andy, You were asleep, so we didn't wake you. Went out to dinner. Should be back before ten. Mom" His watch said it was after seven. He should be hungry, but he wasn't; empty, but not hungry. Nevertheless, he took a couple of crackers and munched on them as he went outside to look at the ocean, calm and peaceful under a budding moon. He envied its serenity... He wandered down toward the water, near the rockpile, and stood there, for how long he did not know. The rockpile. Where he had seen her--really seen her--for the first time. Was it only yesterday? Or an eternity of yesterdays? He wasn't sure any more. All he knew was that the night air was cold, and he was suddenly chilled. He shook his head and turned back toward the house. She was standing there, a looming, shimmering shadow in the moonlight, dressed in her usual shorts and halter. Something that looked like a blanket was thrown over her shoulder. At first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but he looked again, and it was really her. "Andy?" He looked away. "Go home, Stace. Please." "No." He turned his back on her and closed his eyes. "Stace, please! This is hard enough for me as it is. I can't take any more." "Andy, I love you." He winced. "Stace, don't! Please!" But her hands were on his shoulders, gently forcing him around to face her, and then a hand under his chin, lifting his eyes to hers. "I mean it, Andy," she insisted. "I've always loved you, and always will. You're the only man I ever wanted, and I'm not going to let you go. Ever!" He squirmed in her grip, trying to break free. Tears of frustration were forming in his eyes. "Stop it, Stace!" he choked. "You don't want a man! You want a doll to play with! And I'm no doll!" "Oh, Andy!" She pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him and pressing his face between her breasts and almost smother- ing him in the process. Then she held him away from her again, looking down at him earnestly. "Look at me, Andy," she commanded. "Look at this body, these muscles. It took me three years of hard work to develop this body. And I did it for only one reason. I did it for you. I made this body for you, Andy, and only for you, because I knew that bigger, stronger girls turned you on, and I wanted to turn you on, Andy. Oh, God, all those years--how I wanted to turn you on!" He stared up at her in amazement. "How--how did you know...?" "Ann told me. She told me how you tried to date that big bodybuilder back in high school, and how Pete made you admit it. That's when I started to work out, to develop these muscles, so that when you came back here I'd be the kind of girl you wanted." "But...but..." She released him, knowing that he would not run away from her now. "I know. I've been playing with you, teasing you. After yesterday and last night, when I saw the effect I had on you, I--well, I decided to get back at you, to give you a taste of how I felt, all those years of wanting you and having you ignore me, by turning you on and then turning you off, making you think I thought of you as a doll or a toy or something. It was stupid, and it was childish, and I'm sorry. I didn't realize until this afternoon how badly I was hurting you." She shook her head, close to tears herself. "Oh, God, Andy! I don't ever want to hurt you! All I want to do is make you love me as much as I love you!" His mind was reeling. He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be happening. But--could it really be possible? Could this beautiful, Amazonian teenager really be in love such a small, puny, helpless man who physically, compared to her, was little more than a child himself? He stared up into her face, saw the agony in her eyes, and knew that it was true. And then he was in her arms, clinging to her powerful body, straining upward to find bare flesh to kiss above the halter that covered her breasts. But she was so tall, so magnificently tall and strong... He felt her hands around his chest, holding and then lifting him to hungry, parted lips that were descending to capture his... She stopped, looking down at him. "Andy!" she exclaimed. "You're shivering! Are you all right?" Only then did he realize how cold he was in the night air, that his entire body was covered with goose pimples and shaking like a leaf. His teeth started to chatter as he sheepishly replied, "I--I g-guess I s-should have w-worn a-a j-jacket." She smiled lovingly down at him. "Poor, little Andy!" she whispered. "Here, I'm not cold. Let me hold you close to me and warm you..." She wrapped her arms around him and pressed him to her, burying his face into the curve of her neck and shoulder, his feet dangling almost a foot above the sand. He felt the warmth of her body flooding into his, and his teeth stopped chattering, but it was not enough. He continued to shiver in her arms. "M-maybe we should go back in the house," he murmured. "Not if your parents are home. Are they?" "No, but they could be soon. Why--why not?" She grinned. "You'll find out. Glad I brought this blan- ket. Looks like it's gonna have to do double duty tonight." She laughed softly. "After waiting three years for you, I'll be darned if I'm gonna let you catch cold on me!" Shifting him to hold him in a single arm, she dropped the blanket on the sand and spread it out, and then gently laid him on his back on it, folded the excess up around his legs, and wrapped it securely around him with only his face showing. She slid one arm under his chest and the other over and around his thighs and rose to her feet, lifting him easily with her to hold him cuddled tightly against her. "There," she murmured. "Better?" He could already feel his body being warmed by the blanket and the closeness of her body, and after a moment he stopped shivering. Feeling a little like a baby in her giant, powerfully muscled arms which all but enveloped his small frame, he looked up at her and smiled. "Much," he whispered. The feeling of being so tiny in her massive arms was having its effect on him, which was beginning to become evident even through the blanket. She giggled and bent her head to kiss him. "You know, Andy," she said softly, "you're like a little papoose in my arms. My little papoose! Except that papooses don't get boners like the one you're sporting!" "Stacie..." "I know! I'll quit!" She laughed and kissed him again. "But, after tonight, I don't think you'll ever worry about being a man to me again!" He realized that she was walking, carrying him toward the rockpile. He looked up at her quizzically. "What do you mean? Where are you taking me?" "To our special place," she murmured. She reached the rockpile and, with amazing ease, carried him quickly to the top and then down to the center clearing, jumping from the last, high boulder and landing lightly on her feet, bending deeply to mini- mize the jar to his small body. She laid him on his back on the sand, still wrapped in the blanket, and then stood and quickly removed her halter and shorts to stand towering above him, her legs straddling his prostrate form, totally nude. "I made this body for you, Andy," she told him softly, "and now I'm going to make it yours and your body mine. You are the only man who will have ever have had this body, or ever will. It's important to me that you know that." "Oh, Stacie! His voice was suddenly a combination of agony and apprehension. "I don't know--I..." "What's wrong?" He closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Oh, Stacie!" he blurted, "I love you so much! And I want you so much! But..." "But what?" He looked up at her pleadingly. "I--I've never done this before, either," he whispered. "I--I don't think I know how!" She looked down at him in surprise and sudden delight and dropped to her knees, straddling him, and then down to cover his wrapped body with her own and kiss him long and hard. "Don't worry, Andy," she whispered into his mouth. "You won't have to do anything but relax and enjoy. I did a quick study last night, preparing for this moment, although I didn't think it would come quite this soon. We're gonna learn together, and I'll even keep you nice and warm." She unrolled the blanket from around him and quickly pulled his polo shirt and shorts from his unresisting body, exposing his already stiff and throbbing erection. Immediately she settled her massive, 225 lb. body over him and, reaching out with both hands, pulled the sides of the blanket over both of them. At first he thought she would squash him, but, by some physical miracle, she avoided bringing the full weight of her body to bear on him. After that he didn't care, for his con- sciousness was completely submerged in the intensity of her lovemaking. She was nibbling and kissing his face, his neck and his shoulders as her hands kneaded, stroked and caressed his soft sides and stomach and her own abdominal muscles flexed and undu- lated against his pulsating erection, sending wave after wave of ecstasy and desire through his helpless body. Dimly he heard her hoarsely whisper, seemingly from a distance, even though he could feel her lips against his neck, "Oh, Andy, you're so beautiful! I love to feel your soft, wonderful little body! I want to kiss and feel you all over, to memorize every pore of your tender flesh with my lips!" He moaned and writhed in her embrace, feeling her hungry mouth move down to explore his chest, sides and stomach with passionate kisses and love bites while her hands squeezed and caressed his buttocks and then probed and tickled his inner thighs, advancing ever closer to his hard and throbbing manhood. Then, before he realized what was happening, she had moved up to wrap one arm around his shoulders and capture his open mouth with hers, passionately crushing down on him and probing the inside of his mouth with her tongue, and he felt her other hand firmly encompass his crotch and knead and stroke him intimately, bringing him almost to the point of orgasm. When she finally released him and rose to kneel above him, his eyes were pleading, begging to be taken. Her face was flushed, her breath coming in short gasps as she settled over him, guiding him into her with gentle fingers, enclosing him in the firm, pulsating folds of her channel as the tiny "pop" confirmed that he was, indeed, her first. Then she was bending over him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying his face between her breasts, seemingly surrounding him with her powerful body. "Suck my breasts! Fondle them!" she whispered fiercely, and he eagerly complied, suckling one and stroking the other with one hand while his other explored the deep ridges of muscle of her broad back. He felt her massive thighs enclose his, locking him inside her, and then she was rocking back and forth on him, sending wild sensations of ecstasy coursing through his body. They were moaning in unison, now, in the fervor of her lovemaking, she the fierce aggressor, he the passive receptacle, yet responding with all his puny strength to the power of her embrace. The folds of her womanhood tightened around him as she reached her first plateau of pleasure, and then another and yet another, and then erupted in her climax, rippling around him and bringing him with her to heights of rapture beyond anything he had ever known. Her moans became a high pitched whine and then subsided to an exhausted sigh as her body slackened, withdrew and rolled to one side. "Oh, God, Andy!" she gasped. "That was so wonderful! I love you so much!" He clung to her. "Hold me," he whispered. "Hold me tight! Don't ever let me go!" She pulled him to her, pressing his head against her shoulder, and kissed his forehead. "Was--was it as good for you?" she asked. He smiled wanly. "Heaven should be as good," he said. "The only thing better would be if I could be a part of you forever!" She hugged him, her powerful arm and hand molding his body his body to hers. "You are, now," she whispered, "and you always will be. You're mine, and I'll never let you go!" How long they lay together, how many more times she took his body, he didn't know or care. She was his world, his universe, and he wanted this night never to end. But it had to, and at last she again wrapped him in the blanket to carry him over the rocks to his house. And, as she lifted him for a final, long, passionate, good night kiss, he wrapped his arms tightly around her neck, knowing that he would be counting the minutes until he was in her arms again. He didn't dream that night. He didn't have to. All his dreams had come true. -30-