Slammercize
By woodsy 
A jilted wife does hard time and builds a hard body

Amber never saw it coming.  One minute all seemed to be going well, then 
next thing you know she's on trial for what could be her
life.  She hadn't killed her husband.  Had she?  The fingerprints on the 
knife matched hers and the indelible stain of blood was on her
hands and clothes, but why could she not remember seeing the knife, let 
alone sinking it into Will's chest?  Did she have amnesia?
Was she crazy and schizophrenic like a villain in one of those cheesy 
novels?  Her head was swimming.

Often she had thought about leaving Will, even hurting him the way he seemed 
to enjoy hurting her, but kill him?  Never.  That would
be like letting him win.  Will was nearly twice Amber age, at 42.  He was a 
typical rich boy who never grew up.  His father had owned
the largest chain of car dealerships on the Gulf Coast area, and Will could 
spend the money faster than the family could earn it.  Wild
parties, boats, expensive schools from which he never intended to graduate 
anyway, and his favorite pastime--drugs.  Sheltered from
life's ugly elements, he craved life in the fast lane with the lowliest drug 
dealers, almost as much as he liked the cocaine high itself.
He liked being the big fish in a small town, but spent money on traveling, 
too.

He spent money on Amber, too, but that was not the only reason she drifted 
into his orbit.  She was an artsy type who never knew her
father.  She had tastes for fine wines, fine food, and some of the drugs 
that he was all too willing to provide.  How exactly a nice, shy
girl like her ever hooked up with him I'm not certain.  She said it was 
because as heavy as she was, she felt like she had to get a man
while she could, and a rich heir isn't so bad.  It's true she was heavy.  
Obese really.  She was over six feet tall, so she could carry her
weight more easily than some women, but she wasn't very proud of her 240 
soft pounds.  Despite her size she tried hard never to stand
out, slouching and hiding her face under her unkempt hair.  2 years into her 
marriage she endured a miscarriage that shattered her
world.  She put on another 50 pounds and abused valium.

When I first met her she worked downstairs from me as an operator.  She was 
still in college and not yet married.  I vaguely knew her
boyfriend at the time, but never hung around with him.  Like many sons of 
wealthy businessmen in this town, he seemed kind of self-
destructive, and didn't seem to care whom he took with him.  Will liked to 
brag about his adventures and his business deals.  His
brushes with the law were legendary, whether it was a drug bust or vehicular 
manslaughter while drunk driving.  He spent a lot of time
in court yet no time in the hoosegow.  His old man was visibly ashamed of 
his son's misdeeds, but not so much that he wouldn't buy
him out of jail.

Charming and fun though he was, I had no use for the guy.  Still, since I 
was a good friend of Amber's, I got invited to rub elbows
with some of the local high society, if you could call it that.  I may not 
like them, but at least I might be able to establish some
connections who might want to fund some of my business schemes.  Since I had 
no girlfriend of my own at the time I almost always
came to these parties by myself, and when I wasn't scamming old benefactors, 
I kept Amber company.  3 years ago would be the last
of these parties that I would attend.  Amber was a 23 year old bride just 
coming off the miscarriage.  Instead of mingling, I spent my
time gabbing with her.  She was so despondent she needed somebody to talk 
to.  I danced with her and managed to cheer her up, then
we walked out to the balcony of the clubhouse.  She then told me that Will 
could be in a lot of trouble.  He and an associate hatched a
plan to smuggle heroin into the country and he was afraid his partner might 
try to doublecross him.  Instead of her usual depression,
she felt fear.  The picture wasn't good.  What if Will gets killed?  What if 
somebody aims for him and kills Amber?  What if he goes
to jail?  At the least, her assets will be frozen with his, and at worst, 
she'll take some of the fall.

I searched for some answers, but found none.  All we could do is cross our 
fingers.  "Oh, I should have married you all along, not
him."
"Don't sweat it, hon.  Maybe some day you can leave him and run away with 
me."  We looked into each other's eyes deeply.  I could
sense that we both wanted each other in a way.  I had a hard time feeling 
any physical attraction for her.  It's not just because she was
heavy, but because she had such a low opinion of herself, and it spreads.   
Still, something about her warm personality and her
sensuous lips pulled me like a magnet.  Sometimes I think she like me, too.  
Besides inviting me to the banquets, she seemed
legitimately jealous when she caught me logging onto sites like The Valkyrie 
and Andy's Muscle Goddesses at work.  I don't know
why it mattered to her whether I liked incredibly muscular women, but she 
gave me the cold shoulder whenever she caught me
looking at them.  I tried viciously to deny I was looking at them or that I 
found female bodybuilders attractive the first time or two, but
when I knew I was busted, I just hoped she wouldn't spread it around.  She 
once said she hated it because she felt like she could never
look like any of the women I looked at and it made her sad.  To spare her 
feelings, I simply stopped looking at them whenever she was
around.

Her spirits were particularly high one day when she told me that her 
marriage seemed to have new life.  I tried to be happy about it,
but couldn't help but feel a sense of jealousy.  She and Will were taking a 
weekend voyage off the coast of Mobile in his houseboat.
Amber expected to get seasick, but didn't care.  She just liked the idea of 
a romantic getaway.  They threw a party for the launch as
some of their friends and I saw them off.  I was sad to see her leave, but 
glad to see the glee in her smile.  The next time I heard her
voice it sounded quite different.  On Saturday night I woke up in the middle 
of the night to the sound of a ringing phone.  She had
been arrested and charged with murder 1.  Although man, woman and boat left 
the dock, man did not return.  Worse, Amber's
fingerprints matched those on a kitchen knife found on board the boat and 
there was blood tracked on the top deck to the edge, where
he appeared to have jumped or been dragged off.
"You gotta help me.  They think I killed Will, but you know I would never do 
that.  I couldn't kill anybody."  I'm no lawyer, but I
advised her not to tell me too much about the case.
The whole murder seemed preposterous.  Some Coast Guard ships raided the 
boat acting on a tip that it was carrying smuggled heroin
and when they got there they found Amber with a knife, bloodstains and no 
husband.  The court was bent on making an example of a
high-profile drug dealer, and if they couldn't get Will, they would get his 
wife.  They did.  I can't say much for her defense attorney's
legal footwork, but at least she got manslaughter instead of murder.  The 
drugs in the stern were harder to dismiss.  She got 30 years
with a chance at parole.  No matter, it still stunk.  I may have been 
partial, but I could not believe she was guilty.

Once in the slammer, Amber wrote me at least twice a week.  The shock and 
distress stayed with her.

Dear Dave,

It still hasn't set in yet that I'm in here.  I keep waiting to wake up from 
this nightmare, but I never do.  It's hell in here, even if the
court saw me as just as guilty as some of these other women.  You have girls 
in here who murdered their husbands, boyfriends, even
children.  Some of them are just plain scary.  I don't know whether I can 
get an appeal or parole or what, but I know I want to be out
of here.  I miss you.

Love,
Amber

I visited her as often as the law allowed, which made her almost as happy as 
it made me.  I could see she was miserable.  She broke
into tears the first time I visited.  Somehow there had to be a way to get 
her out, but I didn't know how.
In the meantime there were other issues I had worry about, like my career.  
I flew up to Chicago for a few days for an interview.
Sitting at an airport cafe when I saw a familiar face.  I couldn't be sure, 
but I swore it was Will.  I didn't think he noticed me, so I laid
low and kept him from seeing my face.  It helped that we were away from our 
usual surroundings, but if he knew I was there, he'd fly
the coupe for sure.
I had no plans that afternoon so I followed him as discretely as I could, 
sitting behind him and over a few tables in a restaurant.  His
voice, manner matched Will to a T.  It was him all right.  I overheard him 
telling some of his associates a name, Wes Carter, which
must have been a new alias.  I snuck out as quietly as I could before I 
could be discovered.  All I could get from their conversation was
that Will and the 2 fellas he was with had met at a yacht club in Waukeegan. 
  Figures.  He must have resumed some of his old habits,
though I had no idea what he'd be doing in Chicago.  No matter.  It was 
exciting to be Amber's man on the outside playing the
gumshoe.
What was I going to tell Amber?  At first I couldn't wait to tell her that I 
found her ticket out of jail.  But then I realized that she was
set up by the man she trusted.  Even if it ultimately helped her I hated 
having to tell her.  Next week when I visited her I broke the
news.  "Hi babe, I got some…well, I'll let you decide whether it's good news 
or bad."
"What is it?" she asked, wanting to smile but avoiding it out of caution.
"I don't know how to tell you this, but….Will is alive."
She suddenly grew pale, like the life was squeezed from her, "What do you 
mean?  In case you missed the evening news and the trial,
he died somewhere out in the gulf!"
"But I also remember that his body was never found.  Now we know WHY."
"I'm sorry, Amber, but I saw him up in Chicago.  I saw him, I just know I 
did."
"Get out, she said," starting to sob.  "Just go home."
"But I thought you'd be relieved, I…" I insisted.
"Go!"

A few days later I received a letter in my mailbox from Amber, and I sure 
was glad to see it.

Dear Dave,

I'm sorry I yelled at you when you came to see me.  Nobody visits me except 
you.  As you know I never knew my father and I don't
know if my mother is still alive.  Right now you're all I have, and you've 
always been there when I needed you.  Even now while I'm
stuck behind bars you're helping me.  If I ever get out of here I'll make it 
up to you.  Next time you come to see me I wonder if you
can do me a favor and bring me some of those muscle magazines you like to 
read.  Don't bother telling me you don't know what I'm
talking about, I know you like to read them.  I miss you and hope to see you 
soon.

Love,
Amber

Oh well, I thought.  It's an odd request, but if that's what she wants, she 
can have it.  She must want those to trade with other inmates.
I could see how magazines could be valued in a den full of women and no 
conjugal visits allowed.  It was all so simple when
cigarettes were all prisoners wanted.
A few weeks later I visited her again.  She was sweaty and out of breath.  
Her coverall uniform was dripping.  "What's going on
here?" I asked.
"Oh, we all had some work detail outside today.  They're working us like 
dogs." Her expression was serious, but she seemed to be in a
better mood than the last few times I saw her.
"Well, you look like you're in high spirits today."
"Yeah, one good thing about being in here is I'm not drinking or popping 
pills, so it's like my body's cleaning itself out.  So did you
bring me the mags that I asked for?" she quickly changed the subject.
"Right here.  Hey, listen, I was talking to your attorney, and the appeal 
doesn't look so good right now.  There was no mistake of law,
but if we can find Will, you're home free."  I figured she'd at least hold 
out a glimmer of hope when I told her this.
"Don't worry about it," she said, half ignoring me while she looked through 
the magazines.  "I think I have a better idea anyway.  I'm
up for parole as early as 2 years from now if I just stay clean.  That might 
be sooner than an appeal anyway."
"But don't you want your record clean?" I was dumbfounded.
"Let me worry about that.  You just do me the small favors."

The weeks flew by for a while as I kept busy with my job search.  I was very 
close to moving up to Chicago.  I didn't like the idea of
leaving Amber behind, but I planned on writing her and she me.  Hopefully I 
could still find a way to visit her every few months.
Before I packed up and moved I got one last letter and a request.

Dear Dave,

I'm sorry that you have to leave me here, but at least up in Chicago you 
might be able to keep up with Will's whereabouts.  You know
I will miss you terribly.  I've been asking around about parole and I like 
my chances in 2 years.  I hope you'll wait for me.  Thank you
a hundred times for the magazines.  They're a real hit around here.  I 
wondered if you could grant me one more request.  I was reading
in one of the magazines about this protein supplement.  I wondered if you 
could get some of it for me.  I think it's pretty expensive,
but one jar is very potent, so it should last me a long time.  If you bring 
it, make sure it's sealed, or else the guards will assume it's
contraband drugs and confiscate it.  We get fed in here, but I don't know if 
we get enough of the right nutrition, so I'd really
appreciate the supplement.

Love,
Amber

She was right that it was expensive.  I don't know what was in this jar, but 
a one-quart jar cost me $130.  It was against my better
judgement and I think she was getting taken, or rather I was, for buying it. 
  If a gift every month would keep her happy, though, it was
money well spent.
When I went in to see her the next time, she was all sweaty like last time 
and out of breath.  "Boy am I glad to see you," she said.
"Likewise.  You know, I don't think you've ever been as chipper in all the 
time I've known you as you've been since you got here."
"I know, ain't that weird?" she laughed.  "So, did you get me the stuff?"
"Yeah, I gave it to the warden over there.  It looks like it's allowed.  
Good thinkin' making sure it was sealed."  Her face lit up like a
kid on Christmas morning.
"Dave, I could kiss you!"
"And I could kiss you if this screen weren't in the way.  Is this the latest 
hot trade item in the slammer?" I wondered out loud.
"No, just trying to live nutritiously."
"You're not up to something, are you?"
"Me?  Nope, just wanna make good time while I'm here."

It would be a while before I'd see her again, but we did write all the time 
once I moved up to Chicago.  Living alone and moving into
a new city gave me some time to think about all that had gone on, like when 
Amber told me to wait for her.  I found myself dreaming
about us together.  Within a week after moving into my new place, her letter 
came.

Dear Dave,

I hope you're having fun up in Chicago.  I've never been there before, but 
maybe some day you can take me away from all this and we
can start anew up there.  grin  It gets really lonely without you around 
here.  I know you had to go and I can't blame you for starting
over someplace else.  If I could do the same, that's exactly what I'd do.  
Being locked up is pretty bad even when you are here, but
without you around, it's going to be tough.
I've been staying in shape for the first time in my entire life, really.  My 
clothes are a lot looser and I feel lighter on my feet.  The
prison has some weights, so I decided I might as well lift them.  A lot of 
the girls here really like lifting, so we have our own contests
when we're done working out.  I don't do so well yet, though.  There are 
some girls here who can bench like 300, and all I can lift so
far is about 90.  When I saw what a barbell looks like with that much on it, 
it looked like more than I thought I could lift.  I'm so proud
of myself!  Good luck in Chicago.

Love,
Amber

When I wasn't at work or corresponding with Amber, I checked up on Will.  
Sure enough, he was still operating in town and throwing
toasting the town at the marina.  I still hadn't figured what, if anything, 
he was doing for a living, but my internet searches turned up a
Wes Carter in some newsletters around town.  He was quite a hit, not 
surprising, since he always did enjoy high living, and couldn't
get enough of himself.  Just as well.  It was easier for me to keep an eye 
on him that way.
Every week I got letters from Amber, and I couldn't wait to open them.  It 
made the first six months all the more livable.  I kept her
posted on my own surveillance and she told me what was on her mind.

Dear Dave,

I can't wait to see you when you come around next month.  It feels like an 
eternity since I last saw you.  It's rough in here, especially
without a visit from you to look forward to every month, but I've been 
passing the time by lifting some weights.  I really love it!  I
can't believe I never tried it before.  Maybe if I had known about the rush 
you get I would have started a long time ago.  I still can't
beat some of the ladies in here, but I'm catching up.  I'm benching 180 lb 
now and curling 60.  That supplement was a lifesaver.  I feel
so healthy and alive!
In another 17 months I'm up for parole, and the officers around here think I 
might just get it.  Can't wait!  There are so many things I
want to do once I get out, and I think I'll appreciate it more the second 
time around.
I know it's a big favor to ask, but do you think you can get me some more of 
that supplement when you come to see me?  It works
wonders, but I'm afraid I'm almost out.  See ya soon.

Love,
Amber

I could hardly contain myself I was so excited to see her, but she didn't 
seem to feel the same way.  It was as if she wanted me to drop
off the package and leave.  It's as if I was interrupting something by 
coming, and here I sat on a plane for 3 hours.  Ingrate.  Still, she
did look different.  She no longer had those big jowls that pushed her eyes 
into a squint.  It was hard to tell much else because she
appeared to be wearing the same big uniform she had on when she got there.  
She didn't write for about another 3 months after that
visit, so I wondered if she was angry with me.  Her next letter apologized, 
at least.

Dear Dave,

I'm very sorry for being so rude to you when you came that last time.  
There's no excuse for that.   I was just a little under the
weather, that's all.  But I really appreciate you getting me the protein.  
You really are a life saver.
You'll never believe this, but I'm catching up to some of the girls in the 
weight room.  Some of the others have been betting on me to
win some of the competitions.  I'm not queen of the mountain yet, but I'm 
gaining on the others.  I'm finally benching over 250 and
curling 120!  Can you believe it?  Now I can finally bench my own weight, or 
at least I think so, which I've been wanting to do since I
started out lifting in the yard.  Before I got here I was almost 300, but I 
estimate I've probably lost 50 pounds since I got here.  I'm
definitely going to stick with the lifting once I do get out.
Speaking of getting out, I'll be out in about a year, or at least I hope so. 
  I'm on my best behavior so as not to hurt my chances.  I miss
you, and look forward to seeing you.

Love,
Amber

I had to admit the thought of Amber getting this strong was a real turn on.  
  She might not look all that defined or anything, but she
must be a lot easier on the eyes now than before.  Then again, she might 
just be telling me some fish stories.  As I settled into a new
job and a new life in Chicago the next 14 months flew by.  I tailed Will, or 
Wes or whatever his name was now, and found that he had
set up some online auctioning business, or at least on the front, that's 
what he started.  He was living it up on the Lake shore in some
fantastic spread, I soon found out.  Whatever he was up to, he was throwing 
money around like the days of old, fast building a
reputation as the town's most eligible bachelor.  You'd think he'd try to 
lay low, considering he'd be sweating out a drug sentence
right now if he were still alive, but what do I know?  I backed off 
following him pretty soon, though, lest he find out that I know
where he is.  Worse, if he knew I were here and that I'm watching him, he'd 
probably send some goons my way.  Right now I
wouldn't put anything past him.
Amber and I wrote back and forth still, but not quite as often.  She was so 
pleased that I kept up with her "late" hubby, you'd think I
actually gave her some good news.  We mostly talked about Will when we did 
write.  She didn't tell me much about her weightlifting
hobby, except about 6 months out from parole when she apparently broke the 
prison record for bench press and dead lift, but she
didn't say what that was.  For all I know she might have been telling tall 
tales all along or she had quit lifting by now.  In the last 14
months she asked me to refresh her supplement supply 6 times.  She must have 
been trading some of it out to other women in the pen.
I didn't return to see her so I had to send her a care package every 2 
months.
The big day had come and I got a phone call late at night.  "Hello."
"Guess who?"
"The good witch of the South?"  I guessed, a little bit sarcastic.
"That's right.  Did I interrupt anything?"  she asked.
"No, I had to get up to answer the phone anyway.  So I take it the hearing 
went well."
"Sure did.  The board doesn't seem to want to keep me in and I don't want to 
make them."
"Well, that's great.  Listen, I have some vacation days to use.  I was 
thinking I'd come down there in a few…" before I could finish,
she stopped me.
"Nooooo.  You stay there.  I'll come up to see you.  There's something I 
wanna show you anyway."
"Okay, is that allowed?  I mean, aren't you supposed to report to your 
officer or something?"
"It's not too strict, but listen, I'll be up to see you in a month.  You 
just keep an Will."
"You mean Wes.  Hee hee.  Hey, listen, I think I found some dirt on him that 
the FBI just might want to hear," I offered.
"No, don't do anything.  I want him to stay comfortable where he is.  Wait 
till I get there."
"Sure thing, dollface."
"Thanks, I love you, bye bye."  She hung up with that.  She loves me?  I 
mean I'm flattered and all, but I guess I didn't expect that.
When she said she had something to show me she must have had some evidence 
of her own to put her hubby away finally.  Whatever
it was, I was sure excited to see her.  I counted the days.
The big day was finally here and I heard a knock on my door.  I opened it 
and sure enough it was Amber, or at least it looked like her,
and yet not.  She had the same bright eyes, that same sensuous, pouty mouth 
with plump lips that beg you to kiss them.  She looked
much taller.  She had on a long overcoat on, which was odd, since it 
couldn't have been cooler than 60 degrees outside.  She must
have been hiding a present under there for me or something.
"Amber, is that you?  I wouldn't have recognized you!"
"Whaddaya mean, is it me?  Do you have some other girlfriend coming over?  
You better not, or I just might have to throw her outta
here so I can have you all to myself."
"Were you always this tall?  I swear you've grown."  She must have towered 8 
inches over me right now.
"Well, yes and no.  I haven't grown since you last saw me.  Well, not that 
way at least.  I'm the same height I was then, 6-4, I just
stopped slouching.  Well, that and I'm wearing 4 inch heels."
"Oh, well, it looks great.  If I'd known you'd look this good from not 
slouching anymore I wish you had done it years ago.  I'd have
been all over you."  I said, with a grin from ear to ear.
"I was hoping you might say that.  In fact, that's just what I had in mind." 
  Wow, she was coming on strong now.  Just then it came to
me.
"Oh, where are my manners?  Can I take you coat?  Can I offer you something 
to drink?"
"Not yet.  I'm a little chilly, but I would love a drink."
"Well, I have some champagne on ice that's not getting any younger, and this 
is just the occasion."
"Well aren't you a charmer?  Sounds great!  Do you mind if I freshen up?  
It's been a long trip."
"Go right ahead.  Second door on your right."
I poured two glasses and set them on the coffee table.  I cleared the couch 
for the two of us to sit down, lit a few candles and dimmed
the lights.  I stood up as she came out of the bathroom and offered her a 
glass.
"Such a gentleman!  Is all this for me?  It's like you read my mind."
"You bet.  I don't get a lot of company, and you're the guest of honor."  
She took the glass and offered a toast.
"To a new beginning."  We drank a glass and I sat down, thinking she would 
do the same.
"You can sit down, too.  Is something wrong?" I wondered.
"Not at all.  I noticed your magazine collection in the bathroom.  Like to 
keep up with your reading in there?"
What did she mean?  Oh, that's right.  I forgot I left my female 
bodybuilding magazines in the pile.  When you live along, you forget
to hide these things.  Well fuck me.  "I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to leave 
that there.  I'm so embarrassed." I blushed.
"You are so adorable.  I don't have a problem with it.  I just wonder if you 
really want to look at rags like that.  Do you want to look at
girls like that?" she asked calmly.
"No, not at all.  Not if it makes you unhappy."
"Who said anything about making me unhappy?  I meant, it might not make you 
happy, not after tonight."  What did that mean?
Before I could answer she started untying the waistbelt from her coat.  "You 
see, Dave, I knew for a long time that you liked women
with muscles, especially tall ones.  I caught you looking at those websites 
at work.  I even looked at some of them myself to see what
the fuss was about.  Sure I acted upset when I found out, but I figured if I 
could look like one of those women, you would be mine for
sure.  When I got sent to prison, I saw that it was a blessing in disguise, 
since now I could devote some time to getting in shape.
Working out 2 hours a day does wonders for you, Dave.  Especially with the 
right nutrition."  She turned her back to me and
unfastened each button, one at a time.
"So….Those supplements…Did you share any of them?  Trade any of them away?" 
I asked, with a good idea of what the answer was.
She laughed heartily, "Oh, no.  Those were all for me.  You see, a growing 
body needs food, and the slop in there just wasn't enough.
I know I asked for the most expensive protein mix on the market, and I thank 
you for it.  But I think you'll thank me when you see
where it all went."  She turned to me, opening her coat and letting it fall 
to the floor.  I had to wipe my eyes to make sure I wasn't
hallucinating.  There she stood in a black satin bikini.  "So tell me, do 
any of the girls in that magazine look like this?"  She asked,
flexing a bicep hard.  "Or this?"  She then flexed her abs, squeezing them 
into rows like a ladder.
As she walked toward me, I responded after a moment of silence, my eyes 
jumping out of the sockets, "God no…So I see you really
did lose some weight.  I didn't believe you at first when you said you were 
down do 240 and you could bench 300 pounds."
She picked up the coffee table and climbed on top of me on the couch.  
"Silly boy, I obviously haven't done a very good job keeping
you current on my progress.  I haven't weighed 240 since I wrote you that 
letter 8 months ago.  And I don't bench 300 anymore
either."
"Well, what do you weigh?"  I asked, as she shoved her tongue down my 
throat.  Her massive thigh rubbed up and down my waist and
I reached for her bicep to squeeze it, but couldn't get my hand around it.
"Naughty naughty.  Don't you know you should never ask a woman her weight or 
her age.  But since you asked, just before I left
home I weighed about 310."
"310?!" I gasped.
"And counting.  I think I might just build some more of this muscle since we 
both like it so much.  I had to gain weight back to put on
all this muscle.  And now it's yours, so for tonight, don't think about 
anything else, as if you can," she winked.  She let me untie her
bikini and then she lifted, cradled me and carried me off to the bedroom.
"So how long are you in town?" I asked.
"Well, tomorrow, I have a score to settle with a certain ex-husband of mine, 
but once I do, I'm all yours.  Forever."
Sounded good to me.