Rise of the S League, Part 1
By Meadler
Linda's life is changing for the better.

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Linda Brook, professional photographer, gently exhaled to keep herself composed
as she rode the elevator up to her third-floor office. She was certain now that
another transformation was occurring, the fourth so far in just under two
months' time. The first transformation had arrived without warning of any kind,
and she still didn't understand what was really happening to her. Each of the
three previous transformations had been increasingly life-changing and
increasingly powerful. But this one was different. The sensations were potent
like never before. The power within her was potent like never before. She had
been out in the intense summer sun all day long and her incredible body had
absorbed an astounding amount of energy.

The thirty-five year old, five foot eight athletic blonde babe was wearing white
sneakers, black yoga pants, a black button-up shirt, and, of course, underneath
the button-up, her absolute most very favorite new shirt that she had insisted
on wearing every single day since her last transformative episode, during which
she had effortlessly yanked an iron fence gate off the fence and then compacted
the entire gate into a heavy iron ball with her bare hands. Hanging over her
shoulder was her formerly weighty bag of equipment which she wanted to leave in
her office.

She was in the greatest ecstasy of her life. The power within her was doubling
and redoubling and effecting the unbelievable change that her amazing body was
beginning to go through. She felt as if her soul were singing to her about what
was happening and what was about to happen. A brilliant smile of joy took over
her face after she gently exhaled again.

As the elevator neared the third floor, she wanted to know who else was around.
She was gifted with a sudden blast of x-ray vision that made her gasp. She
quickly saw that no one else was on the third floor of the small office
building, and she let out a happy sigh of relief. As soon as the elevator doors
were open, she blasted at superspeed out of the elevator, down the hallway, and
into her semi-tidy office. Without slowing, she carefully deposited her bag of
equipment behind her desk, and then pulled on a baggy sweatshirt and baggy
sweats to hide her growing musculature as she went home.

She couldn't help herself. She ran at superspeed to and down the three flights
of stairs to the front door of the office building, whereat she exited at the
rate of a brisk jog. The jog was soon slowed to a walk by the mass of people on
the sidewalks of Metropolis in the late afternoon hour after the workday.
Fortunately, her apartment was only a few blocks away from her office. She
walked as rapidly as she could, dodging oncoming people as she overtook other
people to get home faster.

She was desperate to be home and in privacy. The late afternoon sun was utterly
bathing her in its glorious light and power! Her favorite shirt was lovingly
hugging her growing muscles, but her button-up was slowly succumbing to their
might. Her superhearing picked up slight tearing noises around her arms,
shoulders, and back. She felt a button pop off of her shirt as her chest pushed
outward. She slightly broke her brilliant smile of joy as she exhaled again, a
little less gently than before. She held in a squeal of delight as she heard her
biceps and triceps begin to burst through the sleeves of her button-up as well
as two more buttons popping off the front of the shirt.

Her face was flush with the most intense arousal of her life. She felt so good.
She was so turned on and in such anticipation of what was coming. When she saw
her apartment building, some tears of joyful relief fell from her eyes. Her
smile faded a little as her mind was distracted by the certain enormity of what
was about to happen. She wanted to just fly up to the window and smash through
it and wildly masturbate as her mighty and magnificent muscles swelled!

"Holy God, Linda, keep it together," she said to herself under her breath.

Her supersenses kicked in again once she was within a block of her apartment
building. She looked through the mass of people in front of her all the way to
the front door where a man was walking through into the vestibule of the
entrance. The man was Jorge, her lovely and handsome Spanish-teacher neighbor
from Mexico who lived a few floors above her. She had met him for the first time
a few months earlier and she had been crushing on him something fierce ever
since. Life and work and then her sudden superwomanness had gotten in the way of
her relationship with him.

She watched him as she unconsciously navigated the crowd around her. He unlocked
the inner door of the entrance and stepped through. As soon as the way through
the vestibule was clear, she bolted at superspeed past everyone in front of her,
through the still open doors of the vestibule and into the building. Without
slowing, she delicately kissed Jorge on the cheek and blasted down the hall into
the stairwell, nearly tearing the door to the stairwell off its hinges by
opening it at superspeed. Without slowing, she rocketed straight up the
stairwell, through the center, between the banisters of the square spiral
flights of stairs to the twelfth of twenty floors. Without slowing, she
unintentionally tore off the door to her floor and threw it back against the
wall of the stairwell where it exploded into pieces with an incredible racket,
and she blasted through the doorway down the hall to and through the door of her
apartment, which she was very careful not to destroy while opening.

She had closed the distance from her starting point on the street to the
entryway of her apartment in just under three seconds. The force of her
superfast transit was so sudden and strong that she had kicked up a dust storm
that trailed her from the street, into the building, up the stairwell, and down
the hall to her front door. She had been an unrecognizable blur to everyone
around her. She had moved so fast that the explosive shattering noise of the
door she had ruined was practically simultaneous with her movement from the
street to her apartment.

And she had made it home just in time.