Jessica stood alone on the dimly lit street, gazing at the large azure-colored gemstone set in her newly-acquired ring. This ring on her finger, upon activation, would supposedly allow her to release the immense power which now dwelled within her. She grinned at the possibilities. Glancing behind her, she looked for the doorway she had walked through mere moments before.
It was gone. Grimaldi's Gym had completely disappeared, gone as if it had never existed. No door, no sign, no nothing.
If not for the events that had transpired earlier that night, she would have been flabbergasted. But under the circumstances, it did not come as a grand surprise. At this point she didn't expect a rational explanation for anything, for lately reality was becoming of questionable integrity. However, she knew she hadn't dreamt the whole thing, she had her proof in the baggy clothes she wore and the ring on her hand, both of which had been given to her by Eugene, her "personal trainer" for the evening. And what results he had achieved!
Jessica stood for a moment and pondered. What to do next? She still had an adrenaline buzz going from her workout, and she craved an opportunity to flaunt her recent discovery.
An idea came to her. She was just a few blocks from the Naked Eye, the strip club where Parker's little muscle-bitch fiancee worked. Jessica had no idea what time it was, she guessed it must have been at least three in the morning. But Kimber probably worked late, so there was a chance she might still be there.
She thought she would pay the club a visit, and perhaps get the chance to show Kimber what real muscles looked like.
"See ya tomorrow, Jasmine," Lester called from behind the bar as the last of the dancers left. "Lock the door, Barry. The Naked Eye is officially closed for the evening."
Barry, a tremendously dim 260-lb. no-necked steroid monster (and faithful bouncer), closed the front door and began to slip the top barlocks into place when there came a banging from outside.
"Who the fuck is that?" shouted Lester irritably as he strode to the back of the small club carrying the cash drawers from the bar.
"I dunno", Barry answered in his standard Neanderthal manner.
Lester glared back at him. "Well then open the fucking door, you nimrod, and find out what the fuck they want!" He continued into his office and planted himself behind his desk.
"Okay," Barry said dully, and unlocked and opened the door. The glow from the outside light glinted off his clean-shaven head. "Uh, sorry, the club is closed for the evening..."
In front of him stood a tall, pretty woman inexplicably wearing extra-large men's clothing. Nice lips, Barry thought to himself as a broad smile surfaced on his face. "Can I help you, miss?"
Jessica stepped inside. "Hi, I'm looking for Kimber Quinn. Is she still here?"
"Um..." Barry started.
"What the fuck is going on out there?!?" came a growl from the open office door at the rear of the club.
"Lester, this girl is looking for Kimber."
Lester muttered as he got up and emerged from the office. "Oh, for the love of... Well she's not fucking here, is she??" His eyes fell on Jessica and he approached her, his attitude changing with each step closer.
Jessica sized up Lester as he advanced. He was probably around forty. His hair was dark and slicked-back, and he had pock-marked skin. An Egyptian ankh symbol dangled from his pierced ear, and a toothpick hung from his mouth. He wiped his nose and sniffed like he had a habit. To Jessica he looked like a real sleazebag, almost a caricature, like a generic miscreant from some 80's cop show.
"Hi, I'm Lester," he said to her, his lips peeling back into a slimy Grinch-like grin. "Are you a friend of Kimber's?"
Jessica hesitated a moment. "Yes, a good friend."
He stared at her. "I'm sorry, she's gone for the night," Lester told her. He undressed her with his eyes. "You know, I'm always looking for fresh talent... You're a pretty girl. You look like you could use a little meat on your bones, but I bet you've got some moves in you that are dying to get out..." Jessica heard Barry locking the door behind her. "I'm willing to give you a private audition right now, doll."
Jessica was getting uncomfortable. "Uh, I don't think I'm interested," she said. "I've got some business to take care of..."
"Heh. So do I, sugar. Barry?"
From behind, the strong hands of Barry grabbed Jessica by the wrists, holding her arms to her sides. Panic struck her as she suddenly realized she couldn't reach the ring...
"Bring her back to the office, Barry," Lester said, twirling the toothpick in his fingers. "I wanna see what she really looks like under all those clothes."
As he essentially carried her back to the office in the rear, Jessica struggled against the slab of beef called Barry, but to no avail. She was as weak and frail as she had been all her life. It was maddening.
Barry led her around the main dance platform and into the office, where he held her in front of Lester's desk. She made a quick scan of the room. On the desk was a small mirror with three cut lines of cocaine on it, next to several small stacks of cash. Behind the desk was a stout cubic safe, its door open. Inside she could see a handgun resting on the top shelf.
To her left was a leather couch. That was what worried her. She became nauseous at the thought of what might happen to her. All the power she had gained this evening, and it was now useless and trapped in the ring on her disabled hand.
Lester entered the office behind them and plopped himself behind the desk, pointed his toothpick at her. "I don't know who you are, skinny Minnie, but you're definitely not a friend of Kimber's. For one thing, I would have met you before, and for another thing, she wouldn't associate herself with someone who looked like you. Kimber makes good money and likes to show it off. You look like you just climbed out of a GoodWill box."
Jessica swallowed her fear and struggled to control herself. "Whatever you plan on doing, I'm going to warn you. You'll regret it."
"Uh-huh." Lester leaned down and sniffed up a line of snit, tilted his head back and shook it, looked back at Jessica. "I never have before. Right, Barry?"
"Heh. Yeah," Barry grunted. It sounded to Jessica like this was a fairly common occurrence. Her heart was pumping like a bass drum.
Lester opened a desk drawer, pulled out a pair of handcuffs, and tossed them to Barry. "You know the drill, Barry. You're on deck. Now go put some music on."
Holding her wrists together with one beefy hand, Barry caught the cuffs. He snapped them on Jessica's wrists in front of her, and shoved her onto the couch. Then he turned and left the office, closing the door behind him. A moment later the throbbing beat of Nine Inch Nails' "Closer" came thudding through the ceiling speakers.
As she lay on the couch, Jessica held her cuffed hands behind her head and relaxed a bit. She could reach the ring now, could activate it whenever she wanted. But she thought Lester needed a lesson. She watched as he rose from the desk and walked over to her. He held the gun up in front of him. "Just in case you get any stupid ideas," he said menacingly, and laid it on the corner of the desk behind him.
"Believe me, you're gonna enjoy this, so just lay back and relax," Lester said as he unhitched his belt and grinned. "Ah, I love this fuckin' song,". Jessica smiled back at him. "I guess you do too, eh?" And with a short, definitive motion, she twisted the gem on the ring.
And then...nothing seemed to happen. Since it was her first use of the ring, she had no idea what to expect. She certainly wished she had a better opportunity for a trial run. But then she felt a sudden rush of sheer energy overcome her, and she could feel her body slightly filling out her baggy clothes. Not the sudden growth burst she expected, but it was unquestionably working. The initial change in her body was actually subtle enough that with her baggy outfit, Lester hadn't even noticed.
As greasy Lester dropped his trousers in front of her, Jessica held her cuffed wrists out in front of her and smiled a sexy smile. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she said, and effortlessly pulled her wrists apart, snapping the tensile-strength steel cuffs like they were plastic.
Lester staggered back, his jaw slack. He fumbled behind him for the gun on the desk and scooped it up as he stumbled backwards over his ankle-bound pants. As Jessica rose from the couch, he trained the pistol on her at chest level and fired.
She felt something hit her in the chest, like someone had flicked her. It barely registered that she had just been shot. She looked down at her chest, at the fresh hole in her shirt, and at the unharmed pectoral muscles beneath the cloth, peeking through the perforation. And she giggled.
Dumbfounded, Lester fired again, three times, hitting her in the midsection. The bullets deflected harmlessly off her thick armor-plated abdominal muscles. She rather enjoyed the feeling. One shot ricocheted back at Lester, missing his head by mere inches.
Jessica snatched the gun out of his hand. "Give me that before you hurt yourself," she said, and crumpled the gun in her ultra-powerful grip like she was crushing a styrofoam coffee cup. With her other hand she grabbed a handful of his shirt and lifted him off the floor.
Looking him squarely in the eye, she said, "You sleazy bastard. I don't know how many times you've pulled this stunt before, but this time you picked the wrong girl on the wrong night. I should pull your pathetic little weenie off and feed it to you. But I'm not the violent type, fortunately for you." He simply stammered back at her, his eyes wide with fear.
The door to the office suddenly flung open and Barry barged into the room. "What the hell is goin' on in here?" he exclaimed, and gawked at the sight of the once delicate girl now holding a de-pantsed Lester up in front of her with one hand.
Jessica turned, and with a single powerful swing, she slammed Lester into Barry, pitching them both out of the office onto the floor and knocking the wind from them. The desk came smashing through the wall seconds later and landed on the other side of the club.
Through the gaping hole in the wall, the two dazed men watched in awe as Jessica picked up the safe from the corner of the office. "You boys need to be taught a lesson about respecting women," she smirked. Gripping the heavy safe in a bear hug, she squeezed it with her vice-like arms against her unyielding chest. Her arms expanded with the force, filling out her shirt sleeves. The safe was no match for her unbelievably powerful, massive muscles. The groaning of metal could be heard over the pulse of the music as Jessica transformed the thick metal of the safe into an unrecognizable shape. She tossed the crushed safe aside like it was a basketball, and it landed with a loud crash on the floor beside her.
Jessica smiled as she felt her body teeming with power. Now to show this body off a bit, she thought to herself. Striding from the demolished office, she approached the two men as they sat beside each other, stupefied, on the floor in front of the main stage. Grabbing a nearby metal railing in both hands, she easily tore it from its clasps. As if it were a piece of thin wire, she wrapped it around the two would-be rapists and twisted the ends together as they sat in stunned silence.
"You boys want a show?" she said as she turned and strutted to the dance platform behind her. "I'll give you a show you'll never forget."
As if on cue, the cd player changed the song to "Just a Girl" by No Doubt. Apropos, she thought, and grinned.
She stood on the platform before the two men, bobbing to the pop of the music, and brimmed with self-confidence as she felt the power flowing through her superior body. Her arms at her sides, her big shirt was stretched tight across her expanded chest, and the buttons and seams were straining to contain her augmented muscles. Her formerly loose-fitting jeans were now taut on her legs like a second skin. She sensed her muscles surging, growing larger, almost as if she was willing it to happen herself. Time to let them out.
Holding her right arm straight out to her side, she gazed down at the awestruck men and pointed to her bicep with her left hand. "Keep your eye on the ball," she said, and winked at the men. Slowly she curled her right hand up and began to flex her arm. The shirt sleeve began to fill up as her bicep rose and her arm thickened, bigger and bigger, until the fabric could no longer contain her huge muscles. The sleeve suddenly blew open and peeled back to the shoulder as her bicep continued to rise.
Lester and Barry sat helplessly and gaped. What the hell had they gotten themselves into? No woman was capable of this!
"Mmmmm." She was enjoying herself now. She playfully gyrated her hips a bit, pondered what to show off next. "Are you guys 'chest men'?" Jessica asked, and lightly flexed her pectoral muscles, causing her muscular breasts to expand and bob up and down, testing the limits of the shirt. Her erect nipples looked ready to punch holes in the fabric. Suddenly, in an unbelievable display of sheer muscularity, she hit an extraordinary side-chest pose. Her expanding torso blew the shirt apart, revealing the unimaginably huge, solid globes which perched atop her thick barrel-sized chest. Shreds of cloth floated to the floor around her. "Bet you've never seen 'em as firm as this before, eh?" she boasted.
Relaxing her gigantic muscle-mounds, she glanced down at the men, and noticed the tent Lester had pitched in his boxers, along with the strand of drool hanging from his gaping mouth. She had yet to get a rise out of Barry, however—he just sat there with a bewildered expression on his pasty mug.
"Hmmmm," she purred. "You're a 'leg man' maybe?" Pivoting and targeting him with her firm glute muscles, she planted her hands on her hips and did an amazing lat spread. Then she pressed herself up on her calves and flexed her glorious legs. The seams of her jeans gave up the battle and burst right down the sides, and the denim peeled off and fell to the ground in what seemed to be slow-motion. Her tiny g-string was the only article of clothing that survived the flexing onslaught.
Her diamond-hard, bulging calves led up to her immense, vascular thighs. Remarkably wide lats flared like the wings on a Stealth Bomber and her back was a chiseled map of sinew. The prize, however, was her phenomenal buttocks — thick, round, striated glute muscles, separated by her black g-string butt-floss. A pinnacle of perfection that could make a dead man reach orgasm. Twice.
For one final move she grabbed the pole on the platform and lifted herself up with one hand. The pole groaned against the weight of her massive muscles.
Grabbing the 3-inch thick steel swing-pole from the center of the dance platform, she effortlessly yanked it from its moorings. Hefting it like a javelin, she launched it into the center of the deejay booth. The shaft embedded itself through the plywood front wall of the booth and plowed directly into the main power receiver. A loud crackle followed a bright flash, and sparks shot up from the sound board as the music came to a screeching halt. Electricity discharged in all directions as the entire bank of equipment short-circuited in a abrupt daisy-chain effect.
This was enough to get Lester riled. "You fucking bitch!" he spat as her. "That fucking sound system cost me thirty grand!!!"
Jessica turned and stepped over to the men. "Don't get upset, little man," she said as she gripped their metal bond in one hand and lifted the two powerless men off the ground. "I haven't even started yet."
Carrying the confounded pair over toward the front entrance, she kicked the steel doors with a powerful leg, sending both doors flying off their hinges. The street outside was deserted. She spotted a large pile of trash awaiting morning pick-up on the opposite side of the street.
"You two losers will be a lot safer over there with the rest of the garbage," she said, and tossed them underhand like a softball in the direction of the heap of rubbish. They arced and landed perfectly in the center of the refuse with a clatter and a loud "Ooomph!".
Lester flipped his head to the side to dislodge a rotting banana peel which had latched itself onto his face. He peered over the garbage bag in front of him to see the impossibly pumped, unfathomably strong, near-naked woman, staring back at him from the other side of the street.
"I hope you've learned your lesson," she called to him, and blew him a kiss with her full red lips.
"Shit. There goes my club," Lester grumbled, as he watched Jessica return inside to begin her muscle demolition of the Naked Eye.
To be continued...