“When did it start?” I was befuddled, Yolanda, half covered by the bed covers, invited me to lay by her side. Her lanky defined frame was barely contained by the size of the bed she stood on, her long legs escaping from the confines of the sheets. 

“A few hours ago, but it’s been getting faster. Just lay here, by my side. I want to take advantage of it while we can.” Yolanda’s form was expanding. For the past few hours, centimeter by centimeter, she got bigger. Now, by far, she was a head above me. Had we stood side by side, I would have been staring straight at her chest. “Come to me, lover.” Yolanda embraced me as I lay by her. Her body, a dark blanket of pure ebony, covered me, large hands pushing against my back, pulling me against her. I drowned myself in her shape, feeling her thighs cover my own, capturing my waist within her midsection.

I wanted to complain, ask for a timeout as we figured out what was what, but my senses wanted none of it. My mouth found hers, her thick lips opened widely as she embarrassed my own. I felt her tongue penetrate my mouth. I sucked on it, appreciating its strength, until it grew too big for me to keep it in. Yolanda’s tongue bloated, outgrew my mouth as it pressed on its sides. I pulled out, choking. Yolanda pushed me down on the bed and climbed on top.

“Please be careful,” I told her as I suddenly felt her weight. By now, her legs extended on each side of the bed, her knees on the floor. Yet her neck bent at the ceiling as to allow her head room. She must have been twice the size of a normal human, if not more.

“I’m gonna fuck you dearly, love,” she said, a smile barely hiding her deviant intent. Yolanda pushed herself forward, until a sexually aroused, dripping wet vagina presented itself centimeters from my face, its raw presence filling my nostrils. “Eat me,” she commanded. I felt her palm behind my neck and head, her fingers extending deep down my back. She pushed me to her folds. Her pussy surrounded my head, the lips sliding against my face first, then my cheeks and eventually brushing against both my shoulders. My head found itself surrounded. I was inside her. 

I licked and kissed the red wall of her sex, feeling it contract against me as her inner muscles spasmed, grasping me like a toy. Little current of lubricant rushed past the opening, only to cover my chest. I had to contain myself, trying my best to contain the orgasm that was building within me. I wanted this to last forever… but the feeling of my shoulders being gripped by her vaginal folds, my stomach being covered by its lower portion, pulled me back to reality. I pushed dearly against her, until I was ejected forcefully after one of her many spasms.

“Yolanda?” Her form was without reason: her back was fully pressed against the ceiling now. Her ass, pressed against the far wall, bent it, pulling it apart from the top as she struggled for space in the room. The wooden beams behind the plaster cracked, the sound atrociously loud.

“Oh yes. YES!” She screamed. Yolanda always had a dominant streak, and she clearly enjoyed being a force of nature. She twisted herself, trying to find a more comfortable position, but to no avail. Her legs pushed, traversing the house’s walls. Her arms did the same in the opposite direction. As she moved, I barely had time to react while one of her breasts fell down on me. Yolanda continuously pulsed larger, each increase accompanied by the sound of her skin brushing against the decaying house. I found myself surrounded by her areola, the nipple, half my size, rapidly growing to rival me in size. I could grab each individual bump of it, pulling it to me despite the little space I had. My mind was shut, and I grinded myself against it. Yolanda’s nipple, already erect, burst larger in an instant. She screamed again, this time her voice muffled, further away from me.

At this point, it was now just me and Yolanda’s nipple. Its ridges provided me with enough purchase to hold on as it moved up, and me with it. I felt the cool air of the evening around me.

“AH, SO MUCH MORE SPACE. FEELS BETTER, WOULDN’T YOU SAY?” Yolanda asked me, and I responded, but I doubt my answer reached her ears. “ALL THE MORE SPACE TO GROW INTO,” she continued. The exact moment she finished her phrase, I felt her skin tremble. Around me, the nipple grew bigger, its shape becoming more momentous. The small protuberances on her nipple became the size of my fist, then my leg a second later and ever more after. Yolanda moaned, the tone cavernous. 

Her flesh filled my vision, ever growing.

What began as a fun experience had quickly turned sour. I thought I had made it, that I held in my hand the invention of a lifetime. The possibilities were endless: imagine being able to change the shape and size of all things at will—One more step towards the singularity—I had foolishly thought. Yet now I wasn’t so sure. The only way to reach redemption would be to have someone else activate the machine with reverse parameters. But time grew ever shorter.

I don’t know what went wrong: when I tested the machine on inert matter, everything happened according to calculation: the objects had shrunk for a small while, only to then reach back their original size. A wave in the quantum fabric, if you like. What sort of obsession led me to try it on myself? I don’t think I’ll ever know. The only thing that stands true is that I found myself reducing by half every few moments. When I shrank down to ninety centimeters, it was all in a sort of good fun. I amused myself in the nostalgia of being the size I once was as a child. When again I shrank to forty-five centimeters, I grew slightly worried despite my confidence that the next time the process activated, everything would begin to reverse.

But then I warped down to twenty-two centimeters, barely taller than the mug I used every day for my coffee. I was stuck on my floor, with no way to reach the equipment. So, I suppose I did the only thing that came to mind: seek help. The front door of my house always had a small crook to it, typical of an old house from New England whose wood had a lifetime of work enacted upon it. It made it possible for me to squeeze through under it. It was at first difficult, the gap barely able to allow for my torso as I crawled… until I shrunk again: ten centimeters. Anyone’s hand would now be able to comfortably grab me. My heart sank, and I hurried.

Once outside, I wasn’t sure where to head first, until I saw her, leagues ahead past my yard and hers: Palmyra, my neighbor. She had just returned from some obligations, carrying large bags of groceries, and climbed her front porch. A young woman in her late twenties, strong of will, autonomous, and most of all inquisitive and intelligent. She might be able to understand my plight. I hurried.

Jumping down my porch was easy. After all, at my size, gravity was an entirely different game due to my reduced mass. A jump of what would have been a couple of floors felt like nothing. The feeling was shortly exhilarating, until the reality of my predicament returned. I looked at the Sun, kept my bearings, and entered the forest of grass.

I recognize I did not think much of the danger as I went, so focused I was on finding help as fast as possible. I did see some dog-sized ants on the way, but other than a slight inquisitive look, or so I thought, they ignored me. The world was different, alien even. Was this how the smaller life experienced the world daily on this planet? I ran, brushing against grass, for at least ten minutes. I saw large fences overhead, indicating I crossed my yard and into Palmyra’s. That’s when the feeling started anew, deep in my gut. My vision blurred, like a strange fog one might have after waking, and found myself at five and a half centimeters. I did not react, nor cry, but I would be lying if I told you my throat did not seize up in panic.

The ants from before became more like bear cubs to me in size. The grass now like large jungle trees. I had to hurry. The dirt of the soil was difficult to navigate: only at this size did I now notice they were like boulders. An agglomeration of biological matter. I knew that for now, if it was like walking on a beach of pebbles, it would soon be another matter, and I would be forever barred from reaching Palmyra. I fell a few times, but in the end, after a few scraps, I reached the first stair of her porch, I estimate fifteen minutes later. I was slightly too late, it seemed, and shrank again. One point five centimeters or 15 millimeters. The first step of the wooden porch was too high up, I had no skill for climbing. I fell on my knees, desperate.

I was about to despair, when I heard the rusted metallic sound of Palmyra’s front door open. The ground trembled around me, the large dirt rocks jumped, my body barely holding on, as steps approached. I looked up only to see a large, flat and leathery object pass overhead, before slamming down on the ground a few meters away, relative to my size, in front of me. Atop a ledge only slightly taller than me was a gargantuan heel: Palmyra’s foot in a sandal.

Before I could react, she brought her other foot forward, and continued on, marching onward to her parked automobile. It seemed she had forgotten something inside. My mind raced with ideas. I would have one chance, and one chance only: I would need to grab and climb on to her sole the moment she passed by. Throughout the day, people have a tendency to often repeat the same movements, the same routine. More often than not, people will climb stairs the exact same way, with the same foot put forward, at the same location. The soil in front of her stairs indicated as such: an area was slightly lower, from repeated steps. It was close enough. I rushed to it, and prepared myself. 

I stared at Palmyra some. What a beauty. From the first moment I saw her, I felt my heart flutter. I never took it further, because I suppose I had been cognizant she probably would not have reciprocated, from being too different, unalike. Yet she was always pleasant towards me. A sort of openness I did not see her have with others. Maybe it was always just some playful flirt, never to be acknowledged. Her long black hair, sun-kissed skin, defined face, fair and long limbs always carried a sort melody to it. And now I was at her mercy.

The door of the car was slammed shut and Palmyra on her way back. Every footstep a tremor to my form. Each one, closer and closer, like a meteor crashing down. I leaned down, not unlike one would before starting to run, ready to pounce. Her right foot and sandal crashed two relative meters in front of me. The gamble had paid off. As she moved her left foot to climb up her front stairs, in the two seconds it took her, I jumped the short distance, grabbing the imperfection of the leathery sole.

I felt air under me, my heart jumping into my throat as it lifted to the second stair. Surprisingly, I was able to keep my purchase as she placed her foot on the stair, lifting the other one. I took the moment to climb, reaching the top of the sole and sliding to a horizontal position. Palmyra’s foot size was incommensurate. This is what a human foot looks like to insects? Each toe was twice as large as my old house. Each ridge of her easily toeprints discernible, their width the size of my wrist it seemed.

Palmyra’s toes pressed down, her heel moving as I felt her move again and again. Every time I felt we had landed back down, I crawled forward as fast as I could, ever closer to one of her digits and away from the ledge of the sandal. I was halfway the distance between the ledge and her middle toe when I felt the effect again. I knew by instinct my new size: seven millimeters. If only she looked down, she would have seen me. I only would need to either pull or punch her toe for her to feel something.

The door of her house slammed, we were inside. Movement stopped for a while. I looked upward at Palmyra: she was going through some mail on a bureau by the entrance, rapidly flipping through the pile. This was it, this was my moment. I stood and ran to her toe, punching as hard as I could. Her skin was harder than I thought. It made sense, I suppose: skin is only soft because of the strength we can exert on it, otherwise, immovable, it is as hard as cement.

I swore, shaking my hand in pain. I saw her toe lift, only for the entire foot to disappear as she pulled it back out from her sandal. I followed it with my eyes, desperate. Palmyra simply scratched the tip of her toe, without even looking down, still reading whatever mail she was holding, nary an emotion on her face. She put it back down, and pulled her other foot away from the sandal, before turning and heading out to another room.

It dawned on me that I had forgotten Palmyra’s habit of walking around barefoot. Not only because she had her floor and house in impeccable order, but also in order to keep it that way. A habit I could have taken from her. A curse left my lips. Immediately, I ran after her as fast as I could, jumping down the end of the sandal’s sole with ease. I hoped dearly Palmyra was somewhere I could reach her. I was halfway to the entrance of her living room, when again the feeling of shrinking passed through my body, eliciting shivers. The process was accelerating. I couldn’t believe it: three and a half millimeters. The meter left to attain the entrance of her living room looked as long as a kilometer. A flat and long expanse. Breath was leaving me, unable to pursue. I arrived at the frame of the door, the wooden floor seemingly unending, dust like small boulders to me now.

Palmyra was there, standing, reading a message on her phone, leaning against the side of the doorframe. Her foot was around two hundred relative meters away. I picked up the pace, rapidly approaching the monolith. How tall must she have been to me? Her height was indescribable. Perhaps almost a kilometer. Her head would have been above a lower cloud line had she been relatively that height and I normal. I arrived behind the heel… and shrank again. One and half millimeter. A tenth of a centimeter. The back of her foot grew before me, becoming all encompassing for my vision. I could discern things about her I never dreamt of seeing. She had some dry skin, but very little, creating a vast vertical plateau. Vast wrinkles provided a path I could walk on, like a crease on the side of a large mountain. To reach the first one, I had no choice but to try wall climbing. At this size, the skin looked like a small uneven wall, made of flakes. It was easy enough to find a purchase and lift myself.

Unlucky for me, the heel is notoriously with slightly less sensation. Or at least it was for her. I had reached the first crease, and lay on my back. I looked up, defeated, as the ridge grew away from me, the top of the wrinkle further, my size diminishing anew. I stayed there, unmoving for a few minutes, only for the process to repeat. Less than half a millimeter now. 

Please notice me, Palmyra!

What I am about to tell you is a true story, from the bottom of my heart. If you’ve ever wondered of my fascination for taller women, of these times when we’ve sat at a bar during a company outing, only to remark as I could not help but prevent turning my head at a woman giving the slightest hint of being taller than the average man, simply know that it is because of Amanda.

I first met her on our very last year at university. I went out with a group of like-minded friends, their friends, and the acquaintances of the friends of their friends. Suffice to say it felt like everyone was there. Even as I sat at the bar of the local pub we had decided to go to, I still felt pushed by the mass of people occupying the center of the room, dancing through flashing lights and rhythmic music. The place was packed. With me was another student, an acquaintance I barely knew, but had decided to get to know better. As we spoke, someone else joined us. I saw her first then, when she placed her glass, filled with strong liquor, on the bar table. Never had I seen such long hands and fingers. My gaze followed the thin arms up and up, craning my head to look past the woman’s elongated neck and finally meeting Amanda’s gaze.

You should have seen her: pale of skin, dark eyes, strongly defined facial features, long and straight shining hair, dark as coal. I was bewitched by her beauty. She asked us if she could hang around with us, bored of mingling with the others. She casually mentioned how a guy wouldn’t stop grabbing her ass. She left him alone to fend off an ex-girlfriend of his, annoyed at his antics. Amanda and I hit it off quickly. After a while, probably feeling slightly like a third wheel, my student acquaintance politely left us to our own devices. We were still speaking late into the night, up to a point where half the crowd had left. By that point, we were on familiar terms. My heart had been captured.

The entire week that followed, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I have to be honest with you: before I met her, I wasn’t really into taller women. I preferred them down to my chest, a good head above. With Amanda, though, it was the very first time I was able to feel how it could be with the positions reversed. She was by far way more than a head above me. When we stood side by side, before saying our goodbyes, I noticed how my eyesight had to carefully navigate around her breasts. Not that they were disproportionate or anything, quite the contrary even. No, just simply that my eyes were almost level with the bottom of her chest. That night, I remember dreaming of her. A simple, physical dream where we laid in bed, and her being able to fully encompass my curled body like one would a child. 

I felt then what it was to feel protected. A feeling I would forever seek, to this day. It took a few weeks before I saw her again. Summer was getting on, after all, and a lot of our acquaintances had already splintered for their vacations or other miscellaneous activities. It was while walking in the middle of downtown, a few streets over from here, that I spotted Amanda in a crowd. Quite easily, in fact. You see: she had grown. The difference was minimal, but it was enough for me to notice: the bottom of her chest wasn’t eye level anymore, but very slightly upward of my eyesight. She had gained a few centimeters, assuredly.

When I saw her that time, wearing a white summer dress, flowing in the wind, my heart jumped with joy. As she walked towards me, a new feature of her displayed to my attention: her feet, as disproportionately long as her hands were, completely adorned with beautifully dark blue straps of what must have been designer sandals. Every part of her felt stretched. The warm feeling of coming back to a lost long home filled me.

When Amanda reached me, I began to extend my hand, ready to do a handshake. But instead, she bent down, and fully embraced me, leaving no room for misunderstanding at the joy she felt of seeing me again. She told me how she had lost my contacts, which I had previously left for her on a piece of paper. Only then did I realize I had never taken hers. Destiny had put us back on the same path! I can’t describe to you how strange it is to feel walking by her side. We spent the afternoon together, erring here and there from shops to coffee like one is to do at that age. She might have been thin and lanky, but her height, coupled with her long flowing hair, took up so much space you wouldn’t believe. People stared at her, certainly, but they also parted to the sides as if she was a bull about to run over them. Her steps had definite weight to them. I couldn’t stop stealing a glance at her feet, her long legs, her thin thighs, the dance of her arms cutting through the wind, her bare collarbone, her piercing gaze and adorable, if not slightly devious, natural smile. It was official: I was becoming obsessed with her. Every part of her body seared on my third eye. 

Rapidly, though, as we spoke, it became apparent that the gorgeous exterior barely hid an equally impressive interior. Her mind was sharp, incisive. She would correct others the moment something wrong was said, but with a tone so kind and with words of honey that the faulted party almost always apologized and thanked her for her observations. She was wise with a heart, floating from a person in need to the next. During one such conversation with her, at a common friend’s house later in the summer, still only in public gatherings, she was able to help me with a philosophical conundrum. A dear acquaintance of mine was in need of mental help with a problem I could not solve. I spoke with Amanda for a long while, and her logic was well tempered. She gave me the solution in the most effortless way. It’s at that moment I fell in love with her, not just in body, but in mind. 

That same night, while consoling my distressed self, Amanda placed her left hand on my left shoulder, her right hand on my own and took it in her palm. She assured me everything would be alright. The light in her eyes was all I needed, before breaking down in tears over her kindness. I’ll always remember how she kindly pressed my head against her bosoms. It almost felt like a regal blessing.

So yes, you might say Amanda left me with a powerful first impression during that summer. Even though we both became very busy in our respective lives, we kept in touch. Every time I saw her, I noticed how she was slightly different, slightly taller, slightly bigger. There was a turning point around the next winter: Amanda called me, asking me if I could help her with some groceries. Confused, I asked her for more details. But all she said was to bring them to her place. This would be the first time I saw her house. I arrived with the ingredients she asked me to bring. Amanda was already outside, on her porch, sitting on a clearly too small of a chair.

You know, how when something gradually changes, you can notice it here and there, but there comes a point where the accumulation of those changes hit you at once? That’s what it was for me at that point. Amanda was a giant. There was no way around it. It was the word to use. The chest which ten months ago was level with my eyesight was now above my head. Her navel was now my new comrade in gaze. Her body had to bend in two to enter her house. Her feet were almost always bare, and her vestments had simplified to repurposed draperies. It was during that night, as we prepared dinner, that I asked her about this condition of hers. Amanda revealed to me that her body was stuck in a perpetual puberty. She would never stop growing until the day heaven claims her. We spoke in length about what it entailed. The entire time, I couldn’t help but want to be there for her.

For the first time in a long while, I saw Amanda open up more about herself. Only then did I notice her constant empathy was in a way her mind projecting about what she wanted others to do for her. On that day, I vowed to be there for her always.

That night, Amanda and I slept in her king-sized bed, my body lost in the covers, while her arms and legs overflowed the bed like an overgrown tree. She laughed about it. That’s what I admired from her. That night, we consumed our love, and I lost myself in her.

We fell asleep, with her body covering mine like one would a child. I dreamed of the future, a vague impression of me holding Amanda’s leg like one would a tree trunk, as I sat on a foot of hers larger than my body. Amanda walked the fields, and I rode her. Fantasies.

I will always remember Amanda.

Karin placed her weights down on the floor. She rubbed her shoulder slightly, observing the room of the gym. She sat on an exercise chair, in the very center. Only a handful of other customers of mixed genders were present. In front of her, the giant wall mirror reflected back the room to her. Karin looked at herself: wearing a black top and short, she looked out of place. Her body was an overgrown mass of muscles. She smiled, thinking that this should pay off again. Karin stood up for a moment, put her left hand on her right bicep and flexed. She contracted her pectorals, looking at the fibers of her top scream in terror, the fabric stretched immeasurably as her thick breasts became pushed by the underlying muscle. At 188 centimeters, she towered over everyone else currently present. Karin flexed her thighs, which again tested the very limits of her skin-tight shorts.

“Hmm. I’ll have to find a new pair soon,” she whispered to herself. As she picked up the weight anew to work on her arms, Karin wondered if “the thing” would happen again. There was no reason it would not, as it had happened every time she exercised in the past year. Twelve months ago, Karin measured no more than 162 centimeters and was much less muscular if still somewhat curvy and broad. More than one guy she had taken to her bed eventually told her she could gain much from exercising, that even without any workout, her body seemed made for it. Curious as she was, she eventually registered at her nearby gym and started a routine. 

Karin, still thinking about the past year, was now doing a few squats, moving her waist down and up. If she had heard the slowly creeping sound of her shorts tearing near her thighs, she did not show a care. Karin stared at herself through the wall mirror, her thoughts back to that first workout she ever did. It was difficult for her to describe how energized she had felt. Every movement, every bundle of exercise she did was like a wellspring opened within her. After two sessions, she already saw visible progress. Being so inexperienced, she assumed it normal to suddenly have defined biceps after the equivalent of four hours of exercising in one week. That second week, when she took a lover home, sex had never been better. Karin ravaged him, using her legs as a vice for his head, pushing her sex against his face, she discovered a dominant streak within all the while satisfying a newfound submissiveness her lover didn’t know he possessed. It was after their second session together that he remarked she was not only more defined, but taller.

Karin’s progress was unparalleled. Her muscles grew substantially faster after every session. Sometimes, she came home from her workout, towel still around her neck, and promptly undressed in the nude, throwing her clothes away on top of her sofa, her wide living room, bathed in light through large wall windows, shining every single line of rapidly defining muscle on her body. Her body usually overflowing with hormones after a session, Karin did the usual: she laid down on her couch and started burying her fingers inside her sex. The release was powerful, potent and humid.

“I shouldn’t think about that….” thought Karin, noticing the visible growth of not just her hardening nipples, but a growing tent on the front of her short as the image of grotesquely overmuscular vaginal lips began to show. Karin relaxed from her squats and stared straight at the mirror, noticing her eyesight was now just above its highest point. She passed a finger on her top, feeling the bumps from the places it had begun to rip. Her other hand did the same for her shorts. Karin bit her lower lip softly. The other gym customers were still avoiding looking at her—A freak show—thought Karin—they must see me as a freak show—

After the first few months, the energy Karin felt filling her every time she had gone to exercise was now constant. She would wake up with it, a rampant overload of her senses which more often than not led either to masturbation, or sex, if any other man or woman was to be sharing her sheets. This morning, when Karin had awoken, it was a different matter: this rabid energy was overwhelming. She ravaged the woman she had brought home with her the night before, five times in a row. But nothing made her feel spent. She looked at her guest leaving the house, tired and apologetic for not being able to keep up, and immediately left for the gym. Karin was visibly bulging. She was already a beast from the previous months of workouts, but today it felt like she pulsed. As she walked to the gym, every step gave her the impression she was bigger, larger.

And now that she had begun, she realized something big was coming. Something she could not contain. The sound of fabric ripping audibly echoed through the room. Karin stifled a laugh, turning around to see one of her monstrously muscle-ridged glutes piercing through the short. A wetness formed on the front of her sex as excitement took her. Behind Karin, a woman gasped, shocked at the naked display. 

“Hah, I’m so sorry. My body always gets a bit out of control when I pump,” apologized Karin. Her body rippled with goosebumps. She took a step towards the woman. As her right foot touched ground again, a snap passed through her body, her entire mass pulsing outward, blowing her vestments apart and exploding her sneakers in a tattered mess of rubber. The woman looking at her screamed, eliciting the gaze of all other customers. Karin had grown outward to 220 centimeters. “It’s OK! Don’t worry, I’m just a fast grower when I exercise. I’ll just go get a towel and cover up,” said Karin in a sort of oblivious way. She took one more step, and again this time as her foot touched the ground not only pulsed outward, her muscles relatively larger on her squaring frame, but also eliciting a powerful stream of girl cum out of her sex. Karin’s eyes rolled upward, her body growing to 261 centimeters, her head only a few paces away from the ceiling, her body radiating heat, a monstrous mass in the middle of the room.

Karin had an uneasy smile. She struggled to keep the energy within her. Her careful exercising of the past few months as she had found difficulty to contain the beast within was now coming out all at once. She put her hand up, trying to ease the woman’s fear, and took one more step. Her rising thigh bulged outward like a mass of dough. Her moving shoulders inflated with cords and striations of raw mass. Her neck grew out the side of her head as the muscles of her back pushed out and upward. The moment her foot landed, Karin’s body audibly groaned, not unlike a large wooden boat, before her frame shot in every direction, filling the sight of the panicked woman. Customers fled, some jumping through the window as the mass of muscularly bulging skin rushed towards them, pushing gym machinery aside. 

A powerful, deep, guttural moan of pleasure blasted out of the building, strong enough to be heard up to half a kilometer away. Mixed with the advancing wall of flesh was a powerful torrent of lubricant, no doubt expelled by Karin’s orgasmic state. Outside, the gym’s walls bent outward, one of them suddenly being broken by a massively thick foot, easily six times longer than the average person.

As sudden as it started, the growth halted. Dust settled inside the ruins of the gym. The woman that had been in front of Karin was now pushed against the far wall, her body pressed between two undistinguishable muscles. Her face pushed sideways, barely able to breathe, she heard Karin speak: “I’m a bit stuck it seems, ha ha ha! Sorry about this. Maybe if I just push against this wall here…”

The stuck woman screamed at Karin: “Don’t move. DON’T EXERCISE!” It obviously fell on deaf ears. The very moment Karin’s muscles felt they had been beckoned, the valve within her body opened up anew. The woman braced herself as she felt Karin’s skin shake with goosebumps, a terrible shake growing in intensity rumbling through the barely holding walls. Dust fell, the wall behind them cracked, filled with the sound of the wooden beams usually hidden by plasters snapping from increased pressure while the noise of exploding pipes added a strange rhythmic, drumming impression, only for everything to stop.

For a moment, silence filled the air. “What….” the panicked woman questioned. A split second later, Karin’s size exploded outward. Outside the gym, nearby passersby were instantaneously overtaken as a giant upside down foot projected passed them with tremendous speed, pushing asphalt like inconsequential sand. The following thigh pulsed with growth, its mass shifting and raising the leg overall from its bulging circumference. 

A nearby couple threw themselves to the ground, just in time for the growing glutes to pass overhead, missing them by a few decimeters, the wind from the speed of growth barely leaving them their clothes on from the displaced air. Like before, the raw pulse of energy subsided instantly. The hiding couple looked to their side, noticing the sky appearing again with a massive, incommensurably large striated abdominal to their side, Karin’s waist extending several stories high as she turned to her sides.

Karin rose. Her body, almost a cube now in mass, was monstrous. Her movement, slightly impeded by her strange new form, seemed still possible. She placed her foot down, trying to achieve balance, noticing it twice as large as the now-ruined gym had been. For leagues around her, people fled the area. The earth visibly buckled as the combined weight of her body created undue pressure to the soil, visibly slacking the plain the city had stood in for centuries.

“HA HA. OOPS. IT SEEMS I MIGHT HAVE OVERDONE THIS WORKOUT A BIT.” Karin was overwhelmed. Her entire frame looked as if she was flexing her muscles, every part of her striated with endless effort, but not to grow anew: Karin was trying to hold it in. She felt instinctively, at this point, that any relaxation would allow the bottled energy within her to release. Karin took a step forward, the shockwave throwing down nearby buildings, her body barely able to find its center of gravity. Karin wasn’t certain what to do. She had to hold. She had to keep the growth in.

Amidst two pulsating masses of striated muscle, atop her pectoral, the woman from the gym awoke, stuck in between Karin’s mass. She looked upward at the bulging neck of Karin, at her pained expression. She knew there would be no escape, that she was now stuck on her. Karin’s entire body now tried to break free of her will. 

—This is it—thought Karin—my last workout—she could never stop trying to contain the beast within, she mused to herself. For minutes, her breathing had stopped. Karin opened her straining eyes, a wave of relaxation passing over her as she relaxed. One moment of weakness. “OOPS,” whispered Karin, her body filling with energy….

She filled the skies in an instant.