CW: FMG, muscle worship, extreme muscle, GTS, blood, gore.
(read part 4)
Dinah threw up.
Her bile sent up steam from the cold gray dust, but it was somehow less revolting a sight than Ellie. Her beloved Ellie. If that… muscle thing could be called Ellie anymore. If Ellie still somehow was alive, trapped inside.
At all times of day and on into the darkest hours of night, Dinah could hear her screaming. More than her tortured imagination, she could hear with her own ears the choking, drowning, suffocating cries, wordless calls for help, the groans of sadistic violent pleasure that must be tyrannizing Ellie’s mind, the moaning for ultimate release, the shrieks of immeasurable agony emanating from somewhere deep within the mountain that her lover had become.
Dinah wiped her mouth and dared to look behind her at the mountain of flesh, risking her stomach churning again if only to ensure she was out of the way and not in danger of being crushed and smashed into pulp. Dinah assured herself that she hadn’t lost her mind, yet.
She remembered when the old man had not been so careful or perhaps when he had let his own unchecked obsession get the best of him. He was the cause of all this. He was the one that pushed her. Always pushed her. Pushed her to gain the weight cause he knew she could take it. Forced her to devour piles of raw meat until she was ready to burst. Ruined her femininity, destroyed her once petite body, turned her into this.
He was the last to dare to touch Ellie. Whether out of fascination, curiosity, or service, he paid for it with his life when he risked giving her the release her body screamed for. He stroked her immense clitoris. Moments later, the last scraps of his head and torso disappeared, chewed up as if in a grinding garbage disposal by the jaws of her womanhood. Dinah didn’t sleep for a week.
The old man had loved Ellie, in his own… unique way. Dinah knew that she and Ellie once possessed a love that went deeper than the base physical attraction that dominated male life. Dinah prided herself on that.
Sniffling, she muttered the name of her half-forgotten lover: “Ellie…”
Did Ellie even know Joel was gone? Did she even know what her body did to him without hesitation? Dinah wondered and reminisced, knees shaking as she got to her feet.
Behind her, the writhing shadow of Ellie’s out of control body loomed in the pale morning light, exactly where Dinah had left it the night before but now clearly even bigger and more grotesque than the night before. Frozen dew sparkled like gemstones across the crags of her overturned form. Veins that seemed like huge octopus tentacles coiled and uncoiled with her heartbeat. Caverns formed and collapsed in the spaces where her arms used to be. The throbbing epidermis was covered with gashes that did not bleed, torn skin that did not entirely heal, always slick with pungent sweat that evaporated in gray wisps of steam in the wintry air. The sex smell… it was like that but a thousand times stronger.
Ellie had become a wailing, seething mass of fibers that went about breaking and repairing endlessly, a ball of twine where each thread represented the constantly shifting tectonic plates of her inhuman musculature starving for room, fighting for space against one another. The sound of her endless muscle expansion was like a perpetual landslide of rock hard granite or leather being stretched until its tearing point. Her marbled flesh, crisscrossed with a vascularity that somehow redefined the laws of biology, pocked with the tapestry of bruises, lacerations, and shredded bulk, undulated, pulsing like a heart fit to power the planet itself.
Yes, when one part of her didn’t spasm into an irregular flex, Ellie had become a sphere of a human being. Because her muscles had so exceeded their boundaries, it would likely be impossible for anyone but those accustomed to her grotesqueness to pick out what was what anymore–Dinah prided herself on that, as well, though not without gagging that needed stifling.
Her pecs were so pressed together that the ravine between them was unimaginably deep, a viciously tight crack that buried her rib cage somewhere far beneath. Her chest piled up like two rolling hillsides, bursting up over the two biceps that pressed pincer-like in front of them, so massive that they actually touched while being forced away from each other by the bloated abdominal wall beneath them.
Her fingers and hands, like her toes and feet, had long since disappeared, wrapped in impenetrable sheaths of corded steel–Dinah believed that Ellie’s skeleton hadn’t grown inside of all this mass, how could it? Instead, she imagined that Ellie’s skeletal structure was being pulled apart in all directions, an endless struggle to find even one more inch to fill up with raw, excruciatingly powerful muscle. With no inches left to give, the only way to go was outward.
A gigantic nipple might stab like the head of a demolition drill out of the tangled mess but otherwise, it was a parody of anatomy enshrined to strength forsaking all else.
Pecs overwhelmed her face. Her own neck and back crashed down over her head. Her shoulders were swollen enough to nearly touch above her. Her thighs grinded against the bottom of her chest. Her ass smashed against the corrugated scenery of her back. She was an oceanless vision of continents, Pangea made flesh. Ever growing with that sickening gurgling, stretching, grating sound.
Numb with ritual, Dinah’s body also moved without her express request. In a blind act of repetitive obedience, she found herself climbing into the nearby crane. It barely operated but it still did its work. In the past, they had used it to pile cars, tanks, pieces of architecture, boulders, anything they could find that was heavy enough to test Ellie’s increasing strength. They quickly ran out of suitable objects. In poor repair, the crane coughed to life. While the gas lasted, it was only good now for measuring Ellie’s… height? Her width? Girth? It was impossible to tell at this point.
Dinah swallowed the nausea coming up to her throat again at the thought of needing a crane to measure a human, glancing once more at Ellie. Irresistibly glancing. Fascinated. Repulsed. Obsessed. Disgusted. Enchanted.
Her eyes saw the numbers on the scale carved into the crane’s boom hoist cylinder. Crude, but it got the job done. She saw the numbers… nearly 30 feet… she was almost 30 whole feet tall… across? Wide? Dinah’s mind reeled. She saw the numbers but barely read them. Numbers had long ago become meaningless. There was no way to weigh Ellie anymore. Their old equipment for that had long been crushed beyond repair. Ellie could be a ton or hundreds of tons… what did it matter?
The crane’s engine sputtered into silence.
At times like this, Dinah’s mind drifted and she dreamed. She dreamed of what might happen if she let the crane drop. Load it up with the wreckage of their vehicles, the beams from the yard, whatever she could find, then just let it fall. Let it fall and see… see if she could kill her.
Dinah could crack her wide open like a red egg. End the nightmare. End Ellie’s suffering. Shouldn’t she do it, try it? Wouldn’t it be the right thing to do to end Ellie’s torment…?
“The right thing to do,” Dinah’s hand trembled over the crane’s controls.
She’d lost track of so much time. The journal Joel had kept that she herself then tried to keep after his passing had been lost. It was probably lying crushed under the twisted metal and gravel. Lost so much time… Dinah couldn’t even remember when Ellie last ate any food.
“God…” she choked, tears stinging her eyes like acid.
She realized she’d been starving her. Depriving her. Had it been a week? No. Much longer. The realization broke through her ritual like a knife in the back. There were no more animals left to feed to Ellie. Everything was gone. All that was left was Ellie. Endlessly Ellie. Extreme muscle growth Ellie. Nothing could stop her, not even deprivation. Ellie could survive lack of food, lack of water–how could she still live?–perpetually locked in a loop of gaining more and more mass. Was there a limit?
Dinah fought through her sobs and gags.
Could there be a limit? Would she some day break open like a dam, release a flood of her genetically-superior blood over the mountainside, filling the valley below with her death and presence, soaking into the planet, becoming the earth itself? Or would it never stop?
Dinah grabbed her own hands and sat on them. She could not kill the beast. Nothing could.
But would it kill her? If Dinah couldn’t stop the unending transformation that had claimed her lover, would her lover’s transformation eventually kill her? The awful thought of being buried alive in Ellie’s muscles shot through her brain like a lightning bolt. But if that was to be her fate… if Ellie was indeed still alive and could not be killed… then Dinah would accept it. Better to die, even in such a horrible manner, at the thoughtless crushing expansion of the most powerful human that had ever lived, rather than simply be shot by a thug or eaten by a clicker.
Better to be enveloped by the unwelcoming brutality of Ellie’s existence. A goddess. Dinah’s drifting mind had never thought of it but in the space between waking and sleeping dreams, as her sheer exhaustion and worry began to claim her, she suddenly thought of Ellie as a goddess. More than human, of course. She might become her own planet, like Jupiter. Or Venus, better yet.
Dinah’s eyes rolled back. She’d rest a bit in that thought: Ellie outgrowing the planet, putting it out of its misery since she hadn’t the will or know-how to put Ellie out of hers. Shining in the sky. Shimmering in the darkness.
She didn’t realize it, Ellie consuming her waking thoughts as she had consumed everything but, that she let her left hand slide up and over her hip, then down between her legs. Dinah was groping herself through her jeans. She did it mindlessly, a machine worshiping a machine within the cradle of the old rusted crane…
“Mah, mah, mah, yoah a sight fo’ sore eyes. If n’ it ain’t one of Jo-el’s dawters!”
The voice cut through Dinah’s slumber like broken glass. She sat bolt upright, scrambling for a moment for some weapon to defend herself, realizing at once there was none, grabbing her knees to steady her hands. She looked down from the mount of the crane’s operator chair. Standing below her was a man in a dirty old riding coat, a wide-brimmed hat, and a medical mask that obscured his lumpy face.
His personal guard, armed with the best kevlar, tactical wear, and black weapons scavengers could find, stood in two semicircles around him, fingers on their triggers.
Dinah dare not whisper his name. Her empty mind throbbed with it, Hush, Hush, Hush.
“Now where’s yoah pappy, darlin’?” Mister Hush clucked, “I do believe he and I had made a wager last I came out to these parts. His monster ‘gainst mine.”
Dinah found her courage and began to climb down from the seat.
“He’s dead.” She squinted up into Hush’s eyes. The sun was bright and hot now. She must’ve been out for hours. She tried to push the image of Joel being devoured by Ellie’s behemoth pussy out of her head, unsuccessfully. Mister Hush smelled of oils and lotions and leather, and leather just made Dinah think of the twisting, stretching noise Ellie’s body constantly made.
“Deyad?” the warlord gasped. At least he had the courtesy to act surprised. “Oh darlin’ that’s sore news. Y’all’d be up her starvin’ to yoah bones if I hadn’t ta’ dropped in. Would be a pretty shame to waste a beauty in the wild such as yoahs…”
His courtesy didn’t outlast his own words. He reached with a hand clad in a torn, blue latex glove and cupped Dinah’s chin in his wrinkled fingers. She pulled back at once.
“We can take care of ourselves.”
“We?” he coughed through a fit of laughter, “Ah sees no we’s ‘round here, girly girl. Naw. Looks like a tornadee hit ‘n put the place in a wreck. But if yoah wanna stay in this sty till the rats gnaw at yoah bones, suit yoahself.” The condescension in his voice went out, the sharpness came in. “Ah just came for the contest Jo-el and I set up.”
“I remember,” Dinah said. “An Olympian contest of yoah monster’s stren’th ‘gainst ours,” she mocked his accent.
“Right.” He narrowed his sickly eyes at her.
Dinah felt him smiling greasily under his grimy, saliva-stained mask. The sooner his wretch lost to Ellie and the whole gang of them left, the better. Tails between their legs. Just had to get this over with.
“But here now wheya is yoah Goliath, anyway?”
She wasn’t ready for that. The genuine question in Mister Hush’s tone prickled the hairs on the back of her neck, upsetting her more than anything the old warlord had uttered yet. Dinah whipped her head around. Forgetting Mister Hush’s men, she shoved past them and rounded the treads of the decrepit crane. Behind her, the men murmured amongst themselves. Suspicion filled the air.
Where Ellie’s body had sat for days, days that bled into each other for longer than Dinah could remember, there was now instead a kind of flat crater. The rocks and gravel had been pulverized into dust and sand at the bottom. There were shreds of her skin, bits even of her hair, a darkness of moisture in the soil that could have been from her sweat. Her smell still lingered in the air, but the 30 foot mound of muscle was gone.
Dinah’s first honest thought, purely subconscious, was that Ellie popped like an overfilled balloon.
Mister Hush was observing the spot but not giving it much thought. He turned and shouted toward his men.
“Spread out. Find the little princess. Ah’m not gonna wait all day.”
The men scattered.
“And you,” he pointed a latex-gloved finger at one of his men with a pale white bandana around his neck. “Go and get her prepped. Make sure she’s nice and hungry.” His tone chuckled as the man scurried off, disappearing below the round of the hillside.
Dinah spotted the warlord’s men peeking in the hulks of busted cars, getting down on their knees to peek under them between the ripped up tires. They battered down the door of the dilapidated shack… Dinah knew they wouldn’t find much. A dirty mattress. A worn out old kerosene lamp. A wool blanket. A few changes of her own clothes–she’d salvaged what she could from Joel’s belongings: repurposing his tools, stitching his garments into ones that fit her, uncovering his meager cache of ammunition.
There was an old forgotten journal in that shack somewhere, but it was old and out of date. Useless. It tracked the muscle growth of a girl that had been completely outpaced by whatever it is that Ellie had become… and wherever that thing was now.
Dinah watched the shack being gutted. It was barely more than a wooden cave now but still. It felt like watching her own disembowelment. The detritus of her history was being torn out and tossed on the floor like trash by the warlord’s men. Dinah’s sadness, long given the opportunity to turn calloused, hardened at the sight of it.
There were no tears left to shed for the memories Dinah and Ellie had shared in that simple, rundown home on that mattress. She had only hours earlier cried through the guilt of letting Ellie starve, adding famine to her lover’s suffering, whether she was aware of it or not.
Dinah remembered the oath she swore, back when they could still speak to each other, when they could still show their love for each other, express their love with their bodies–
“Now look here, mah girl,” Hush was saying, “You can’t hide her. We’ll find Jo-el’s filthy lass and have our lil dog fight.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” Dinah replied, turning toward the leprous old lech and brushing strands of her wavy dark brown hair out of her face, brushing away the past as she closed her mind to it and brought herself back to the present. “Or anyone.”
“Then do tell, darlin’,” Hush answered, “Where is she? I’ll not ask again. You know I’m not the kind of man you oughta keep waitin’...”
Dinah barely felt his threat.
“You can’t hurt me.”
Mister Hush’s eyes gleamed as greedily as a starving beggar suddenly offered a huge, greasy cheeseburger. “Oh can’t I? You oughta know that I’m somethin’ of an arteest when it comes to the mideeval craft of pain. Nothin’ would make me happier than to see that pretty face of yor’n splayed on a cutting board next to my filet knife… I can go as slow as you wantin’, baby…”
A year ago, his warning would’ve buckled her knees and spun her head. The old Dinah might’ve fainted. But now?
“You think you’re strong because you have your harem of guns…” her voice began rising from a hoarse, strangled whisper to a clear trumpet blaring, “but you don’t know pain like I do… You’re tryin’ to hurt me with bullets and knives? Kids’ toys.”
Mister Hush blinked at her unexpected retort.
Dinah gathered herself.
“You can tear out my teeth and feed them to me… You can rake every inch of my skin with burning razors… You can snap every bone in my body like goddamn toothpicks and I won’t even fucking feel it,” she heard herself saying, laughing, “I’ve endured pain like you wouldn’t believe! You can never understand what I have been through. No one has seen what I have seen. I’ll break for you, I’ll bleed for you, but I’m already dead.” A vicious, cruel grin consumed her face, twisting like a death mask.
Hush took a step back.
Suddenly, one of the men called out. He didn’t say any words, he simply screamed. Then gunshots, the noise ricocheting off the mountainside. Flashes through the trees.
“What the hell is going on?” Hush said, turning on a heel and grabbing one of his men by the arm as he ran past, running away from the sound.
“I… it’s not human… it’s…” the men stammered and frothed, tearing his arm free and bolting.
Mister Hush pulled a handgun out of his cloak and fired. The bullet struck the coward in the back of his knee and he went down yelping like a wounded puppy. Hush turned back to Dinah and shrugged.
“Good help is so hard to find these days.”
Dinah stared back at him with a venomous look, then she began to make her way toward the screaming and the gunshots. As she ran, she noticed strange markings in the earth that she hadn’t noticed before. It was as if the dirt had been scooped up and shoved to the side by a monstrous bulldozer on the loose. Her heart began to race wildly.
The men were gathering down the hill, behind the shack, at the base of a curve of the mountain side that jutted outward from the peak high above and terminated in a barren cliff. The trees grew against it and it was a dark, shadowy space. The warlord’s men were speaking in terrified whispers and moans.
Hush shuffled past her, grabbing her shoulder to force her out of his way.
“What the fuck are you idiots firing at?” he snarled.
Then he saw it.
“Lord Almightee…”
Dinah came up behind him as he took off his hat and scratched his peeling scalp. Her death mask grin turned demonic.
Ahead in the gloom, a mountain under the mountain peak pulsed and throbbed… and stood. The whole immense form, a forest of intertwined coils and mesh and knots, jumbled fibers and veins, actually stood, raised itself up. Had the monster walked here while Dinah had slept? The wall of grinding flesh, a shifting mass of rippling pectorals, biceps, triceps, abs, quads, calves, and tattered skin betrayed no sense of its direction, whether it faced the gaping crowd that now beheld its sadistic glory or not.
And just when Dinah thought she could weep no more, a single tear broke the desert of her eyes and slithered down her cheek, cutting a path through the dust caked on her face.
“...BIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGGGGEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRR…”
It was like the voice of the mountainside itself, bubbling up from the Earth. The voice came through smothered, buried as if below the half-frozen gravel beneath their feet. But it was a human voice. At least, it was a human word. English. Though barely recognizable, the long, slow, relished, moaning utterance, like the crescendo of an orgasmic wail, communicated its meaning with crystal clarity and none in the small crowd that had gathered, dwarfed by the life form before them, doubted what it meant and who said it.
Dinah fell to her knees. Everything in her was ready to revere the goddess of mass she had borne. Her heart was lighter than it had ever been for longer than she could remember. The feeling crashed in a moment, a car wreck inside her screeching to a halt.
“Shoot it.” Hush’s command sliced the air.
Only a few of his men had the self-control left to lift their weapons and open fire. Dinah threw her hands over her ears, wincing as she watched the darkness light up. Spits of flame unleashed. The semi-automatics roared. Bullets hailed upon the mountainside and it did not budge, it did not react, it did not even cry out in pain. It had already known pain and conquered it.
When the blast of the guns ended and the smoke began to waft away, there it stood still, just as before, a statue enshrined to power and the human determination for survival. The men gasped. One of them heaved his guts out. These battle hardened killers had found someone they could not kill.
Dinah heard her shrill, high-pitched, wild laughter. She reached out and grabbed a hold of Hush’s sleeve, pulling on it to get herself up off the ground.
“Bring your steroid-pumped bodybuilding bitch,” she choked on spit and glee, “You can’t hurt us anymore.”
Hush looked down at her in disbelief, wrenching his sleeve out of her grip.
“Go get her,” he hissed.
None of the men moved.
Hush turned in a violent wrath and whipped out his pistol again. He shot it into the dirt at the foot of the nearest men and then pointed it in his face.
The man scrambled for the communication radio pinned to his chest, stuttering into it.
“R-release her. Release her.”
“There now,” Hush smiled, turning back to Dinah. He pulled the trigger on his firearm and dropped the man with the radio to the ground. “She should be here any minute and yoah girl and mine can have their lil tea partee.”
Dinah brushed past him. The men parted for her. She strode up to the mountain of muscle, reaching out a hand that no longer trembled, stroking the surface of what she thought must be the hardest material on the planet beneath its taut layer of translucent skin.
“Ellie…?” she hesitated to whisper. “Ellie? If you can hear me… it’s time… this is everything you put yourself through all this for… now’s your time to show them…”
No sign that the woman she once loved heard her at all. The voice of the mountain had fallen silent. There was nothing but the sickening bubbling sounds and elastic noises emanating from the monolithic body, almost like an engine purring. A car idling. A dragon lying in wait. Maybe she did hear…
Everything about Ellie’s massive body meant tension. So tense it looked as if it would tear apart. She had become a flexed muscle itself, a macro-organism comprised of individual muscles like pieces of a jellyfish, like roots connecting all the trees of a forest. Nothing had given Dinah more nightmares than watching that forest digest her girlfriend. Whether waking or sleeping, the mere imagination of Ellie, her sweet Ellie, being swallowed up inside of an irregular landscape of flesh, a wasteland of sinew, beef, brawn, meat, and distended veins. But all the nightmares paled beside the joy that filled Dinah’s heart now. The moment when all of Ellie’s exertion and self-inflicted agony would finally pay off and they could crush their enemies into paste.
Just then, a piercing whistle. A moment later, the ground shook as if a comet had fallen from the sky. The gravel leapt into the air. The ancient cedars swayed and rocked, dropping shreds of bark and leaves over the scene below. Dinah shrieked and fell head first into Ellie’s body–it was like battering her forehead on the side of a brick building. She caught her breath and blinked away the dizziness.
A crafter had formed some yards away, smoking with dust. Dinah stared into the haze with horror as out of it rose… and rose and rose… something standing to its full height. Not a bodybuilder. A giant. No, a giantess covered in muscle like plate armor in perfect fearful symmetry, eyes wild, incensed, and hungry as a tigress’s.
Hush looked like a black statue, leering with his gargoyle’s face. His lumpy face gloated.
“Welcome to the partee, mah Abigail.”
Through shafts thrusting like spears at crooked angles through the tall treetops above, the sunlight bathed the giantess and her skin shone like polished ivory. Only dark blue patches of harsh bruises and coarse brown hair on arms that hung away from her body at wide angles, on her forearms, legs, and neck shattered the image of a stark naked Venus risen from the smoldering crater out of some mythology of distant antiquity. The giantess stretched, turning her head to one side and then the other, and rolling her shoulders, and as she moved, musculature like tank treads rippled and undulated under the barely adequate facade of her skin.
Dinah was still struggling to stand when the giantess’s fierce eyes locked on her. Abigail’s lips parted into a sinister sneer, or maybe all the fat in her entire body had melted away and the brainless, drooling colossus was merely baring its teeth like a dog. Either way, Dinah felt chilled to the bone. She forgot the men with their guns. She forgot even Hush and the mountainous body of Ellie steadying her.
The giantess took her first step out of her self-made impact crater where she’d leapt down from the sky. As she moved, her leg swung out to the side, so vastly wreathed with impenetrable sinew that she could no longer walk normally. Nothing was normal about her, of course, but the muscular waddle made her seem even less human, not even bestial… elemental. She was a Greek titan. She was a force of nature.
Abigail’s T-shaped torso twisted and every bloated muscle fiber pulled, giving her for a fleeting moment the appearance of being split into diagonal strips, until her muscles relaxed and tensed again. She was a battleship of surreal angles, wickedly indulgent power, and bloated lines. The extreme vascularity that had formed almost a kind of mesh-like rind around this enormous creature the last time Dinah and Ellie had seen her–some indefinite period of time in the past before the journal-keeping gave out–had melted away like molten lead into ribbons of quivering steel and cables of bulging iron.
The ground shook with every repugnant step the giantess took until Mister Hush reminded all present he existed by raising his hand to the height of his head as casually as if he were waving to a friend. In that moment, mouth agape, Dinah realized the diseased warlord’s power. For all the frailty of his decrepit body, he had taken a woman and broken her mind to such an extent that she had become more than a slave: she had become a machine and he held the only key. He had, through whatever force of chemical, biological, psychological, or even supernatural engineering, destroyed a human being and rebuilt over her ashes the towering edifice worshiping power that loomed over everyone below.
The self-satisfied grin on his gnarled face under that medical mask said it all. He was a flea leading a savage wolf by the collar and he knew it.
“Much as Ah’d love to watch mah Abby pick you up an’ bear hug you till yoah nothin’ but puddin’,” he winked like a college frat flirting, “Ah think we’d bettah just get our lil’ showdown on the road before the daylight fails us.”
Survival at all costs, Dinah said, feeling dead inside. This was it. She finally steadied herself, raising her chin to stand defiant beside her own monster. She wondered if Ellie was afraid, too. She shook the idea out of her head.
“We’re ready,” she gritted her teeth.
“If’n yoah don’t remember, let me rehash the deal ah struck with Jo-el… He ain’t here so you’ll jus’ have to finish what that straightface bastard agreed to!” Hush coughed out a hideous laugh, “We’d proposed a battle of streng’th. One-on-one. Yoah girl ‘gainst mine. An’ near as I can figure, there ain’t no bettah way to sort out which of these two pumped up super bitches is the stronger ‘less we have ourselves some good ol’ fashioned mud wrestlin’! Think that bulbous blob you’ve got there can take my Abby down?”
“You can’t be serious…” Dinah muttered under her breath, but the shrewd warlord, long used to listening at doors and windows for secrets and spies, caught it.
“Ah’m always serious when there’s lives involved, darlin’,” Hush wheezed, “I didn’t get to become the largest landowner of property along the east coast by tellin’ old chestnuts an’ shaggy dog stories… Oh! An’ speakin’ of property… when you lose today’s match of beast ‘gainst beast? Yoah gonna be my property.”
He swung his arms wide, taking in the gravel, the trees, the mountainside, the ruined shack behind him surrounding by the burned and rusted skeletons of ancient vehicles.
“All o’ this is gonna be my property.” He chortled. “My lil’ flower of the countryside, yoah gonna make me very, very happy when you come to live with me…”
The old Dinah might have felt nausea cramping up in her stomach again. The thought of becoming a used tissue, the sex slave of this human pustule or the plaything for his torturers while he supped and dined and toasted to her screams, a thought like that might’ve crushed her before. But her modest speech had been true. She knew nothing he could ever do to her, not humiliation, torment, or death could ever rival the pain of having her love consume by revolting, uncontrollable, violent muscle growth.
“Command your cow to do what you want and when you’re done, you can get the hell off our mountain,” Dinah said.
Hush snapped his fingers.
The giantess groaned a bellowing roar that rose up like a geyser from deep underground and then broke into a run. The warlord’s men scattered, diving out of the way for dear life. The steam engine of a woman thundered toward Ellie’s body, which Dinah now hid behind knowing that that disgusting body overwhelmed and overloaded with muscle that they’d both cultivated and grown and force-fed and starved beyond all recognition was the only thing that stood between freedom and a life of servitude.
When the two titanic bodies collided, there was a sound like a sonic boom going off in the forest. Branches and even entire tree trunks shattered. The mountainside trembled and threatened a landslide. But Ellie did not budge.
Dinah screamed, if not out of fear than only in an attempt to drown out the reverberating roar of the clash of incomprehensible muscle against incomprehensible muscle. If Dinah wondered whether Ellie was aware of anything at all anymore, a bassy, guttural, prehistory moan bubbled up through the steaming, seething layers of mass that represented Elli’s indescribable planetoid body. Drops of pungent sweat, saliva, and even fleks of meaty blood rained down and speckled Dinah’s head.
“UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH….”
Breathless. Deathly. Savage. The brutal moaning crescendoed and seemed to shake the earth beneath Dinah’s feet. Somehow, as the deafening bestial utterance faded at last, Dinah heard Mister Hush sharply bark out his order.
“Lift.”
The garbled sound of rocks grinding. The scent of fresh earth. The puffs of dust catching in the chilly breeze. And Ellie’s body, somehow, began to move!
Dinah turned and staggered backward, unable to even imagine the feat of impossible strength being undertaken in front of her very eyes. Imperceptibly, Ellie’s monolithic body began to rise into the air. For the first time in what felt like a long bleak stretch of years, Dinah could see empty space beneath that grotesque ball of muscle. She looked like a craggy, uneven, rippling asteroid being called back up into the heavens, an alien thing that didn’t belong on this earth being returned home. Dinah spotted one of Abigail’s huge hands, white, gripping the asteroid tight, fingers finding chiseled cracks between the continental muscles of Ellie’s body.
Hush was laughing as his giantess screamed a scream like a hundred bears howling in unison. The otherworldly sound struck fear, real terror, into Dinah’s heart. She was witnessing the immovable being moved.
Throbbing like a huge, pulsing heart with some kind of immeasurable excitement, Ellie’s body, a trophy of power, rose and rose. Abigail got it up above her hips, pressed against the brick wall of her abdomen. Ellie cast a massive black shadow against the forest floor, the trees above blown apart by the force of their initial collision.
“Fuck…” Dinah whispered, unable to contain herself. She never had any nightmares wild enough to contain such a display of power.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” Ellie’s body groaned.
“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” the giantess screamed through clenched jaws.
Still higher Ellie’s body was raised, a 30-foot sphere with the giantess under it. The men, and Dinah too, scrambled back, afraid to be crushed beneath the asteroid. Hush remained where he was, grinning like a kid in a candy shop. Abigail got her inconceivably vast prey above her chest now, heaving with huge breaths at the effort, then, as the giantess, propped the muscle planet over her shoulder and the wide platform of her broad trapezius, Dinah got a glimpse of the monstrous woman’s face.
Dark red with effort, streaming rivulets of sweat like a trickling waterfall, thick strands of drool foaming out between her teeth, lips pulled back tight like an angry gorilla about to charge… but the worst part was the untamed, unintelligent glaze in her eyes. Bulging from the vein-wracked, shaking, crimson mess of her once girlish face, Abigail’s eyes burned with vicious determination even as her own titanic machine of a body shook in place, crushed beneath her hyper-pumped burden.
She was mythic Atlas carved out of female muscle instead of white marble. Her legs buckling. Her arms wrought with tremors. Her biceps swollen to bursting, pressing against the planet above her. Sweat pouring from her pores. Veins audibly beating to the rhythm of her rapidly thrumming heart. The giantess looked for all the world as if she really had the world on her shoulders, but she had picked up the heaviest person… perhaps the heaviest thing that walked the earth since the dinosaurs.
Hush clicked his tongue with satisfaction. He snapped his fingers again and gave his order, “Now, Abby my girl, throw that trash down the cliffs…”
But his Abby did not respond.
Ellie did.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
From somewhere deep inside the volcanic intumescence of Ellie’s body, her vice-gripped head shrieked not in pain, not in anger or fright, but in unmistakable, unbridled, undiluted pleasure. If Ellie had become muscle incarnate, muscle personified, muscle in entirety and totality, then she only understood one thing. Whatever final scrap of fat converted into muscle within her skull that could still form thoughts for the igneous, idiot godhood of a body that she now possessed knew nothing but muscle. And she had never met anyone besides herself as muscular as she.
Dinah’s thoughts swam through pools of confusion but she somehow pieced together the dizzying connections. All of Ellie’s existence had devolved into muscle growth. Dinah knew now that her girlfriend lived, but that she simultaneously could not be deader. Ellie understood nothing but muscle growth and to feel it first hand not just from within herself but from without, that sensation triggered every surviving pleasure receptor in her muscle-addled brain. She orgasmed like a hurricane upon the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object. The paradoxical metahumanity of it all sent shockwaves of euphoria careening through every last exploding fiber of her being, the clarion call of her ultimate apotheosis.
Like a boiling geyser spewing its pressured liquids high into the air, Ellie’s body–evidently nearly upside down–squirted gallons of vaginal juices above the tops of the trees. The forest filled with her scent. The thick saliva-like secretions spattered the meteoroid of her body, sliding and slipping and rolling down in rivers to bathe her own private Atlas beneath her.
Either incensed at the humiliation or burning with her own desire as the feminine fragrance seemed to burn her eyes and sear her nostrils. Abigail’s red face turned almost purple. Her whole body rocked with tremors now, fighting to maintain the impossible weight of Ellie’s body on her shoulder even as her grip began to slip. It was clear to everyone that as the orgasming planet hoisted into the air quivered with pleasure, it was growing at a faster rate right before their very eyes, horrified chasms between each tangled muscle group becoming deeper as peaks arced and veins heaved.
The female spunk fell in huge globs and droplets upon the warlord’s men who dare not come any closer to the display of raw womanly power. The ejaculation soaked their stupefied faces and drenched their clothes, matting their hair, smearing their fingers until their grips failed and the guns slid flaccid and worthless from their hands, clattering on the gravel. Moments later, they lost their minds.
Those with enough endurance had enough time to tear through the wet layers of their own pants to whip out their purple manhoods and beat themselves furiously as they doubled over, though others were already seizing through multiple orgasms, writhing on the floor, completely overwhelmed by the vicious perfume of hyper-pheromones. They had never smelled (or touched) femininity like this before, and they never would again. Those that didn’t succumb to heart attacks or extreme hyperventilation barely kept hold of their dribbling sanity, eyes crossing and glazing as they wailed and moaned at the feet of the goddesses before them. They were the choir of these two creatures raised out of legend, made real only through the sadism of modernity. They were idols carved by cruelty and stuffed past overflowing with more violent strength than any single human should ever possess.
For Dinah, the ejaculatory cloudburst meant annihilation. She couldn’t remember what they were doing. She couldn’t remember Hush–who had already fled to count his losses, tail between his legs, desperate to hide in some hole in lands far away. She couldn’t remember who she herself was. She could not remember Ellie. All she knew was the image of abhorrent, nauseating, lustful muscle quaking in front of her. She heard her own voice joining the cacophony of worship as everyone present melted and rambled and frothed.
Without even knowing what she was doing, she had ripped her zipper open and was rabidly fingering herself, eyes rolling into the back of her head where she sat in the dirt and dust whimpering. Dinah climaxed thinking not of the old Ellie but of the new: her girlfriend, her immortal lover, a whole heavenly body to venerate.
Abigail the giantess let out one last hoarse scream, an unmistakable cry of panic. The impossible burden of Ellie’s still-growing muscle had at last become too much to bear. The giantess’s left knee went sideways, followed by her ankle. A leg like a skyscraper bent and folded like a cheap accordion. Her neck broke next, then her rib cage caved in as her pelvis snapped out of position. The sound of bone crunching, heavy cables snapping, and steel compressing was deafening. In a gush of meat and blood, the giantess went down, Ellie on top of her, and the earth trembled to receive her ruin.
There was nothing left but the world’s new Supreme Being. Transcending humanity, Ellie embodied the drive to survive in its purest, rawest form. She could never not survive now. She had become the biggest human that ever lived and she would be the biggest human in history, dominating history itself as a permanent part of it. She might never stop growing. She might never escape from the nightmare paradise of infinite muscle growth. She would rule the masses without even being aware of them. She would be the most massive entity that had ever existed.
A silent queen of brawn. A zombie goddess of undying growth. The strength of the people. The Mass of Us.
(end of part 5)