The Megan Kale Project – Part 2
By RipTite
Megan experiments with her new found strength and body.

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WARNING: Adult content!
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The alarm clock buzzed, waking Megan up with a start.  She stared up at 
the ceiling for a couple of seconds, closed her eyes, stretched over to 
her clock and fumbled for the off switch.  Finding it, she stopped the 
buzzing and returned her arm to lie by her side on the bed.

The curtains wide open, light poured into the room and over Megan, as she 
squirmed in post-sleep tiredness, she brought her left arm over to cover 
her eyes, but when she rested her arm on her head she felt a big, bulging 
muscle touch her forehead.  In a second, the events of last night came 
rushing back, Megan opened her eyes wide and sat up in bed.  She looked 
down at her left arm, palm face up.  She twisted her thick arm and watched 
the bulging muscles move and flex.  She pulled the duvet off her and 
stared at her thick thighs.  She prodded one, it felt like prodding a 
piece of high density rubber; there was no give at all but if she pressed 
hard enough she was able to feel the tiniest bit of flexibility.  She spun 
her legs round and planted them on the floor and stood up before walking 
over to the mirror, a thong the only thing she wore.

As she looked at herself in daylight, she was startled at the beauty of 
her body, expecting to feel nothing but disgust.  She didn't look quite as 
big as she remembered last night, her muscles seemed to have calmed down.  
Thinking quickly, she assumed that they were a little swollen after the 
transformation and had calmed down, as it were, during the night.  She 
quickly ran over that last thought – 'transformation'.  It sounded like 
something out of a comic book, but then as she looked at her body, at the 
proportions, at the size and at the beauty, there really wasn't anything 
normal about the way she now looked.  A beautiful, model-calibre face with 
a rock hard, beautifully muscular body.

As she examined herself, Megan noticed her hands and feet hadn't changed, 
they were still the small elegant hands that would belong to a normal 19 
year old, five foot two girl.  But they were attached to a forearm that 
greatly increased in thickness.  Her upper arm was thicker still along 
with her shoulder.  She dare not even guess how wide her shoulders were 
now.  Her upper body was literally a V shape.  Her waist was tiny yet 
packed with a bulging four-pack.  She'd have sworn the distance between 
her waistline and her breasts had reduced, but she felt the same height as 
before.  Looking down, she understood why, her legs had grown in length as 
well as girth.  At the top of her four-pack was a small line of muscle 
above which rested her breasts.  Her breasts, too, had remained the same 
size.  They were modestly small, but perfectly round and pert, and at the 
top of each breast her flesh merged with her ripped pectoral muscles.

Her body was now void of veins, unlike last night.  She continued looking 
at herself, staring at herself, scrutinising herself.  It hadn't sunk in 
yet what had happened, it was simply too unbelievable.  She felt so light, 
as she lifted her arm it struck her how easy it was, expecting it to be a 
workout just to lift the thing.  She flexed her right arm and watched her 
reflection.  As she slowly bent her elbow, bringing her forearm up to a 
right angle with her upper arm, her bicep grew from its stretched out 
mound into a big ball of muscle.  She straightened her arm and flexed it 
again.  She was mesmerized at how many different muscles moved and worked 
just to bend her arm, and now every muscle in her body was defined beyond 
belief it was easy to see the muscles as they flexed and contracted.

She heard a noise downstairs, someone was up, and she suddenly came to a 
startling realisation – she would have to present herself to her 
housemates.  It was then when it dawned on her nothing she had to wear 
would fit, this made her wonder just how big she was.  She walked over to 
the desk and opened the drawer, taking out a ball of string and a ruler.  
She unwrapped a length of the string and broke it off (this was extremely 
easy as the string snapped more easily than a bit of cotton).

She walked back over to the mirror and wrapped the string round her upper 
arm.  Flexing again, she dug her fingernail into the string where the end 
had wrapped round and met itself.  She pulled the string away and measured 
it on her ruler, it was only a twelve inch ruler so she had to double back 
to get the measurement, and as she did, her jaw dropped in amazement.  
Twenty inches.  Her forearms measured eighteen inches.  She measured her 
waist above her hips, nineteen inches while her waist measurement around 
her hips were twenty-six.  Her thighs were twenty-five inches each, her 
calves just over twenty-three.

Now for her chest.  She wrapped the string around herself under her arms.  
Measuring it on the ruler she had to double back four times before getting 
to the result of a massive forty-seven inches.  She dared to measure her 
shoulders.  She almost ran out of string but managed to pull it in, her 
shoulders requiring the full length of the string.  She used the ruler to 
work out how wide she was, eventually coming to the end of the string, and 
added up the final figure.  Around sixty-six inches.

"Fuck!"  She exclaimed.  "What am I going to wear?"  She spoke aloud, but 
under her breath.  She thought hard.  It would have to be something 
stretchy, very stretchy.  She opened her wardrobe and looked through, 
finding the biggest T-shirt she could find, and tried to put it on.  The 
bottom seam wasn't allowing the T-shirt to stretch over her shoulders so 
she got a pair of scissors and cut it off.  Trying again, the fabric was 
being stretched to its limit as she forced the T-shirt over her muscles.  
The sleeve's seams were now stopping it going over her arms, so off it 
came and off she cut the seams.  Thinking ahead, she cut the collar seam 
off too.

Last attempt.  She pulled the T-shirt down, putting her arms through the 
sleeves and forcing the T-shirt to stretch.  She turned to the mirror, the 
fabric was stretched to ripping point.  Because so much of the fabric was 
used covering her upper body, the bottom of the T-shirt hung just below 
her breast line, creating the illusion it was a crop top, when it was 
actually a full-length top.  The fabric was stretched so much it was 
almost see-through, and she could see her nipples through the T-shirt when 
looking hard enough.

Next, the legs.  It was obvious she wouldn't be able to get anything over 
her claves, let alone her thighs.  She remembered she had a shroud 
somewhere.  Searching for it, she found the red patterned piece of 
material at the bottom of her wardrobe.  She wrapped it round herself and 
tied a knot around her waist.  It covered the important parts, but the 
shroud wasn't wide enough to cover her thighs, but it looked quite good 
exposing her most of one of her legs.

Now to meet the first person with her new body, she wanted to get this 
over and done with.  She opened her door, took a deep breath, and began to 
walk downstairs.

"Who's that?"  Asked Megan.
"It's me, Megan."  It was John.  Which was not a surprise as his room was 
the only one downstairs.

"Okay… look… I've got something to show you, alright… but don't freak 
out."
"About what?"  John replied.
"You guy's were right, the medical experiments seemed to have had a small 
effect on me."
"Oh god, what's wrong, spots?"  John came into the hall from the kitchen, 
continuing to speak, running through a list of things he thought might've 
happened.  "Boils?  Rashes?"  Megan reached the bottom of the stairs and 
turned to face him.  "Hair dropping out?  Fingernails fall…" John stopped 
dead.  His jaw dropped.

"Holy fuck!  Megan, is that you?"
"Of course it's me, who else would it be?"
"What the fuck happened?"
"Well, I'm presuming it was all the medical stuff.  I think all of it 
together maybe produced some unexpected results."

John put down his coffee on the side and stepped closer to Megan.  At five 
foot ten, he towered over Megan but now he felt small.

"Can I… touch?"  John asked.
"I suppose."  John slowly moved his arm up and prodded Megan's shoulder.  
It was solid.
"Fuck me.  You're like rock."
"I know."
"How strong are you?"
"Oh, quite strong."
"How strong?"  John persisted.  With that Megan grabbed John's belt buckle 
with her right hand.  Taking the strain, she lifted him a foot off the 
ground, her bicep flexing and growing into a solid ball.  She held up her 
left hand to stop him from falling into her until she balanced his weight.  
A single thick vein appeared running over her bicep from top to bottom.  
As she watched the vein slowly grew until it was about half an inch thick, 
dividing into equally as large veins as it reached her forearm.

Megan looked up, John was speechless, but there was still another foot 
between his head and the ceiling.  Megan looked back down at her arm and 
curled John a bit higher, before gently lowering him, then curling again.  
She did it five times before planting his feet back on the ground.  He got 
his balance and stood there looking stunned, but Megan was now too 
interested her arm to notice.  She flexed her pumped arm, a small tear 
appeared in the sleeve, slowly ripping up the seam.  She stopped, her arm 
not yet at right angle.  A small grin came across her face as she quickly 
flexed her arm.  Her bicep immediately bulged and her sleeve ripped half 
way up.

"Hah!  Cool."  She relaxed her arm and looked at John, he still appeared 
dumbfounded.  She looked down and noticed the bulge in his trousers of his 
erect member, trying to escape the confines of his trousers.

Megan looked back up at him.  She had always thought that John was 
handsome with his short, dark hair and green eyes, but he simply wasn't 
her type.  But for some reason, that didn't matter now.  Inexplicably, she 
had only one thing on her mind.

"I can help you with that."  She said as she stepped up to John and ran 
her fingers over his bulge.  She walked into him, pushing him backwards 
though his door and into his room, closing the door behind her.

"Let me try something for you."  Megan grabbed his belt with both hands 
and pulled the belt apart.  Her body flexed, and then there was a clang as 
the buckle went flying and the belt snapped.  She undid his jeans and 
pulled them down, pulling his Calvin Kleins down with them.  His member 
popped up, standing proud to attention.

"Keep your body taught."  Megan said as she held John round the waist, and 
then lifted him up over her head, holding him there like a male ballet 
dancer would hold his female partner in a pose.  She slowly spread her 
hands until one hand held him by the left thigh, while the other held him 
on his right breast, his body now spun round so Megan could hold him above 
her like a weightlifter would hold a barbell.  She lifted him to arms 
length, and tilted her head back.  Lowering him, Megan guided John's 
manhood into her mouth.  With her small mouth, Megan could only just get 
her lips round John's well-sized manhood.  But she did and she carried on 
lowering until she could feel him touch the back of her throat.  Then she 
lifted him again before lowering him.  She'd only done it five times when 
she felt John's body tremble and heard him give a small groan, her mouth 
suddenly filling up with semen.  After his orgasm ended and he had become 
relaxed, she lifted him up and out completely, courteously wiping his 
manhood down and then swallowed.  Lowering John, she laid him on his bed.  
Breathing deeply, he looked up at Megan, standing there with her hands on 
her hips, and pointed to her face.
 
"You have… a little… bit of, uh… to the side of your mouth."

Megan licked her lips, licking off the drip of semen from the side of her 
mouth.

"Right, now that you're not going to cum too quickly, we can get to the 
fun part."
"What?"  Exclaimed John, sitting upright.  Megan stepped closer to where 
he was sitting.
"You must be kidding," he continued.
"Nope."
"It's gonna take me ten minutes before I can get it up again."  Explained 
John.  Megan undid the knot of her shroud and let it drop to the floor.  
Then she struggled out of her T-shirt, standing there wearing now only a 
thong.  John looked up and down Megan's body, as Megan watched John's 
soldier slowly standing to attention again.

"There you go."  Said Megan, pointing.  She snapped off her thongs and 
pushed John back onto the bed.  Megan climbed over him, until her lower 
lips were above John's member.  Megan lowered her body and John's manhood 
tried to part her lips, but it was to no avail.

"Fuck, I'm muscley down there too!?!" exclaimed Megan.  "Oh well."  Megan 
held John's member with her right hand and lowered herself, guiding him 
in.  Using her strength she forced John inside of her, John gasped.
"Agh, that hurts."
"Stop being a wimp."  Megan surprised herself with what was coming out of 
her mouth as she let go of John's member and continued forcing him into 
her as far as she could take him, while he lay there gasping and wincing.  
After a good five inches, Megan couldn't force him in any further, she was 
simply to tight and strong.  But it would do as she started to thrust 
away, a knee either side of John's legs, her hands flat on the bed either 
side of his head.

Still in pain, but having an equal amount of pleasure, John grabbed 
Megan's butt.  The small round cheeks were solid in his hands as she moved 
up and down above him.  He looked to his side, a huge pillar of muscle 
planting itself into the mattress.  He was beginning to realise that Megan 
weighed a lot more than she used to, as his body was being pushed further 
and further into the mattress.  Megan was getting faster, and every now 
and then she groaned a sexy, girly groan.  All of a sudden she sat up, 
arching her back, her breasts pointing up to the ceiling.  She put her 
hands behind her head as she carried on thrusting.  Just then, John came 
to climax, instinctively grabbing Megan's breasts and squeezing them, but 
they hardly moved, they were almost as hard as the rest of her.  As John's 
orgasm finished, Megan's had only just began as she carried on thrusting 
relentlessly away.  John was back into the pain territory.

"Stop!" he said, but Megan was lost in a world of passion and continued 
unaware of the pain she was causing him.  As she moved back and forth, 
back and forth, she lifted her hair up, letting it fall through her 
fingers, her upper body stretching, her muscles stretching with her.  All 
of a sudden, her arms dropped to a carrying position, held out to either 
side, it was as if she was holding a dumbbell in each hand.  Her entire 
body flexed as she came to orgasm, cables of veins running all over her 
upper body, each muscle bulging to its limit.  She relaxed, moved back, 
and thrust forward again, a second orgasm.  John yelped out in pain as she 
had a second orgasm, flexing and groaning along with it.  She moved back 
and thrust again, harder.  A drip of sweat flung itself from one of 
Megan's nipples onto John's face as her body flexed again.  She moved back 
and she knew this was to be the final thrust, the final orgasm… and the 
biggest.  As she moved back she brought her hands to her face, bowing her 
head, her upper body in a defensive, protective position, her hands 
clenched into fists as beads of sweat ran down her arms.  She thrust 
herself forward with every ounce of power she could muster, throwing her 
arms down to the side again, fully flexed, her head looking skyward.  
Pouting her chest, she flexed every muscle in her body, her pussy 
tightened causing John to yelp once more, fear was in his eyes as he 
watched the explosion of muscle before him.  Megan gave out a last, girly 
scream of excitement, her body shining with sweat, her biceps bulging, her 
abs bulging, her breasts pouted out, her legs fully flexed as the mass of 
muscle squeezed John's legs together.

And then it was over and Megan relaxed.  Sweaty, hardly worn out, Megan 
began to recede back but John gasped as he was dragged down the bed with 
her, her strong pussy not letting go of John's manhood.  She put her hands 
on his torso and lifted herself up forcing him to slip out of her.

Megan walked over to John's mirror.  Her body glistened; cables of veins 
ran over her biceps, shoulders and legs, a few over her stomach.  She took 
a deep breath as she stood there in a sturdy stance.

Admiring her body for a few seconds, she bent down and picked up her 
shroud and T-shirt.  She put the shroud on but couldn't get the T-shirt 
over her wet body.  She quickly looked around John's room and spotted a 
pair of braces he used for a fancy dress a couple of weeks previously.  
Clipping them to her shroud, running them over to cover her nipples she 
looked back in the mirror.

"Hmmm, I think I can pull that off."  She opened the door.  "Thanks John.  
I needed that," she said over her back as she walked out.  John remained 
lying on his bed, hurting and shell-shocked.  He still hadn't plucked up 
the courage to lift his head and assess the damage to his sex life.

It would be a while before he did.

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©RipTite 2003
Comments: RipTite@HotPop.com