GHOST OF A CHANCE  Part 1 
by demented20 - written for DTM / Amy's Conquest



*** The Below is an extended segment from this story, written for us by the

Incredibly skilled demented20, whose other stories you can read right here on

the Diana The Valkyrie website.

For the Full Story of "Ghost Of A Chance (Part 1)", please visit our

Member's Section at Amy's Conquest (www.amysconquest.com), or purchase it on

its own on our AC site. Thanks all, and as always, hope you Enjoy! ***

********************

This evening's slap was going to be the last. Alva had been preparing herself
for this moment, but when the sharp report of her husband's slap across her
cheek echoed throughout the house, she still wasn't ready for the anger that
filled her. With the pain still sharp, she turned towards James just as he
sent another harder slap towards Alva's beautiful face, but the only smack he
heard was his wrist slamming into Alva's hand. An expression of shock and then
one of cruel intrigue showed on James' face. His thin lips pulled back into a
grin as his mind filled with fresh possibilities. He'd spent all the years of
their marriage trying to keep his spirited wife in her place. He hadn't given
her a good whooping in several weeks and he thought this night was as good as
any, but now he knew that this night was going to be special. He had no idea
where Alva had dug up the courage to defy him, but deep down he liked it. He
was tired of dealing with a submissive spouse. The look on her face energized
him. His cock even stirred as he imagined what he was going to do tonight.
He'd beat Alva until his shoulders ached and his hands hurt. Then he'd fuck
her until she wept, but this night wouldn't go to plan, his or hers.

Husband and wife started at each other for a moment with light from the
flickering gas lamps dancing in their eyes. Instead of trying to pull his
trapped hand away, James launched another slap, but Alva's reflexes were
better than he thought and she caught his other wrist. Now she had both of his
arms. He laughed and shook arms, just to see Alva wiggle around, but she
didn't wiggle nearly as much as he expected. She stared up at his infuriating
smirk and decided to wipe it off of his face. The tendons on the backs of her
hands stood out as her fingers squeezed James' wrists. After a few seconds the
smirk was gone and only James' manly pride kept the discomfort from showing.
He shook her again and she wiggled even less. All it did was send Alva's long
sleeves sliding down to elbows, exposing her forearms.

"What the hell have you done to yourself?!?", a wide eyed James demanded after
eyeing the churning muscles beneath Alva's skin. His wife had always had a
nice build, all the other men had said so, but she'd been soft like any other
woman. Her hardest exertions wouldn't have shown any muscle at all, but
thicker, bulbous shapes showed on her forearms as she continued to tighten her
grip.

"You should have paid some attention to me. Remember when I went to the
circus? Well the strong man there noticed the bruise you'd put on my neck and
asked about it. I was done lying for you James, so I told him the truth. He
offered to come and beat you ragged, but instead I convinced him to teach me
how to make my body stronger. I've been working on it for months now." Her
eyes twitched a little and James let out an involuntary moan when her squeeze
nearly doubled in strength. The first hints of vascularity showed while the
muscles continued to flex bigger. "What do you think?"

"This is foolishness!", he shouted angrily. "Your disgusting he-muscles won't
help you with what's about to come!" James pulled back hard and only managed
to get Alva to lean towards him. He tried to twist his arms, but that only put
more pressure on his elbows because Alva didn't let his wrists turn at all.
His hands were losing feeling as she kept squeezing tighter and tighter. James
stepped close to his wife when he couldn't free his hands and began to push
against her, forcing her arms down and back. James had never done much
physical labor in his life, but he knew that a man was stronger than a woman.
That's just how things were supposed to be. His smirk came back when he forced
Alva's arms down and he began applying pressure to spread them apart. His arms
were longer than hers, even if she was holding his wrists so all he had to do
was continue to spread her arms apart and she'd lose her grip, or he could
force her arms behind her back to give her a taste of the pain that she'd
given him. But then Alva's arms stopped moving.

"Enough", Alva hissed. Her arms were almost fully outstretched with her elbows
only a couple of degrees from being locked straight, but even with his
leverage and longer arms he couldn't move her any more. It should have
impossible for her to hold this position against him, but then he heard the
sounds of straining stitches. "It's time for me to show you who I am now!"
Alva sucked in a breath and began to flex her glorious hidden muscles. James'
eyes went wide in their sockets as his wife's body expanded before his eyes.
Those man muscled forearms were just a tease. Her upper arms bloated inside
her sleeves like a sacks being overfilled with water. He saw worrying evidence
of further muscle around the demure neckline of her dress showing that this
... this muscle, was everywhere on her. Only he had no idea how hard Alva had
worked, or how strong she was.

Now he could make out the bulging shapes of Alva's body as she pulled his arms
back in. Her breasts pushed towards him as the muscles beneath her bosom
expanded. James fought against Alva with everything he had. Sweat started to
dot James' brow and his cheeks began to tremble as he fought against his wife.

"Something wrong?", she asked him, now sporting a smirk of her own. It was
just as infuriating to James as it had been to Alva. He roared as he lost the
last bits of restraint. He stepped back with his left leg as he reversed his
pushing and snatched Alva forward. She almost had time to plant her leg to
regain her balance, but James tug was hard enough to send her crashing into
the table and chairs.

Alva's long dress and the petty coat beneath rode up as she lunged forward,
trying to keep her balance, exposing her leg just above her knee. James had
never seen muscles, any muscles, flex with such clarity in all of his life on
a man and certainly not on a woman. The two lower heads of Alva's quads sprang
out above her dainty knee looking like twin fists clenching ever tighter as
she tried to halt the momentum. Further down her calf flexed and tensed a
hundred times changing shape from sleekly ripped to flared and thick over and
over. Despite her best efforts though, James' powerful tug pulled her off of
her feet and she flew into a table and chairs. The impact broke the table in
half and shattered a couple of chairs too. James' first thought was that an
impact so great that it might have injured his newly muscle bound wife, and he
began to worry, not that he might have seriously hurt her, but rather what
kind of excuse he might give when she didn't show up to the theatre that
weekend.

He turned his back to the mess that had been their table and shook out his
hands to bring back feeling, wondering if he might need to fetch a doctor or
an undertaker for Alva when he heard a pile of wood crash to the floor. "Is
that the best you've got?", she asked while brushing some splintered wood from
her dress. "And to think that I've been scared of you for all this time. Now,
you should probably be scared of me!"

The fury on James' face made Alva salivate. She couldn't wait to show him that
she hadn't even touched the surface of what she could do. James lunged, this
time not attempting to slap her. He threw a real punch. She dodged his first
one, but the second one glanced against the side of her head making her
stumble on a piece of broken table. A jab caught Alva in the forehead and she
seemed moments from falling over.

"You want to have muscles like a man ... then I'll fight you like one!" He
drew his arm back, clenched his fist and stepped into a punch that sailed
towards her exposed middle. His fist hit the very center of Alva's stomach and
literally bounced off. The hollow thump of his knuckles slamming into pure
muscle sounded right before Alva started laughing. James' face turned bright
red and he took a wild swing at Alva's head. She ducked and drove her shoulder
into his chest hard enough to knock him back. Now she formed a fist and first
time in her life punched a person. The knuckles of her little hand slammed
into James' jaw so hard that it loosened teeth and sent him careening to the
side. He right himself just in time to for her to punch him again. This time
he nearly blacked out. He threw a spinning punch that hit nothing but air, as
her fist slammed into his face again. He fell twice as he staggered towards
the door. Alva just followed him, walking slowly, smirking at his weakness.
Her power over him was intoxicating.

"So this is how you felt all the times you've pounded me", she said and kicked
him in the small of his back, making him drop to his knees. "Yes, on your
knees. That's a good place for you." Alva pulled back to punch James again,
but he wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her to the polished
hardwood. He tried to reach for her throat, but she stopped his hands. "I hope
you realize that you're too weak now", she told him and laughed while he
struggled, but James wasn't done.

He managed to snatch one hand from her grip and land a punch of his own right
to her cheek. It was the first serious blow he'd landed since the slap that
had set all of this into motion, but this was no slap. This punch had all of
his fear and anger with it. He didn't wait to land another even harder punch
against the side of her head. He watched Alva's eyes roll in her head a bit
and felt some of his old manly vigor return. He stood up to stretch out his
back a little before going back to work on Alva, when suddenly Alva spun and
jumped to her feet. James tried to hit her again, but she was too damned
quick. She moved her head and drove her fist into his stomach. He doubled over
and she kicked him in the chest for good measure.

"Those punches are going to cost you", Alva told her husband while wiping
blood from the corner of her mouth. She plopped down on his chest, letting her
full weight slam down, but that wasn't half of his trouble. She scooted close
to his head, close enough that he could smell her scent, and close enough for
her to surround his head with her thighs. She wasted no time in clamping down.
Spittle flew from James' mouth as she crushed his head between her legs. His
hands went to the widening expanse of her quads, but he couldn't budge them.
Alva's peaches and cream skin was so taunt against her burgeoning thighs that
he could barely move that.

"With these legs, I could crush your head like a grape between my fingers",
she demonstrated by adding a little pressure. James' head looked ready to
explode under the onslaught, but it wouldn't have. Alva was squeezing so
tightly that it would have just collapsed, if she'd wanted that, but it would
have been too easy. She jumped back off of James' chest and drew her right arm
back. She stared at a single spot on his side and blasted the hardest punch
yet.

"AHHHHhhhh!!", he screamed as Alva's punch broke one of his ribs. "Let's see
what a lefty punch does", she said and broke another rib. "That's two ribs",
she said and pushed James back flat as he tried to curl up. "How many of my
ribs have you broken?", she pondered. "I can't remember, but more than two."
SNAP, went the third rib.

Alva got to her feet while James curled into a fetal position. "Get up!", she
screamed. "That's what you always tell me. Did you think I'd take your
beatings forever!!", Alva screamed and kicked James hard enough to send him
flying into the hall table, shattering it to pieces. Alva rushed over and
snatched James up by his lapels, taking a moment to look into his eyes and
soak in his fear before throwing him across the room so hard that the plaster
wall cracked. She roared as years and years of anger spilled out and she
grabbed him again. This time she pounded his face until blood leaked from half
a dozen cuts. She felt his bones chipping as she pummelled him. Welts, bruises
and knots covered his face by the time Alva dropped him. She could have wrung
his neck, but he deserved more pain. She put her hands to either side of his
head and tried to make them meet in the middle. Her pecs, delts, and biceps
instantly swelled with bone shattering force. The front of her dress burst
open as her thick chest continued to grow.

"Alva", James wheezed. "Please. I'm sorry." His words infuriated Alva even
more and she growled while pouring on more power. It was only a matter of
seconds now before his skull collapsed, and he knew it. "Please, I'm so sorry.
Alva ... I love you and I always have."

Alva felt his cranium giving way, but she stopped. Sweat dropped from her
soaked hair while her flex receded. "You don't love me", she told James before
letting him go. "At least now you know how I've felt since I've been married
to you. I've spent months and months building up my strength." Alva held up
her arms and flexed her muscles like she saw the strongmen do on the circus
posters. Thick lush biceps flexed up while juicy ripe triceps dropped down
below. Her shoulders were fully pumped from all the punching and the heads
looked like they'd been clawed at by a bird of prey. She put her hands on her
hips and flexed her chest, making her already nice breasts stand up and push
outward towards James. Alva had already spent hours flexing in front of the
mirror in the bedroom, so she didn't keep it up. "I loved you though, but not
now. I'm leaving."

"But Alva please! I am sorry, sorry for all of it. I'll never lay another hand
on you."

"I know that", Alva said with a sigh and gave her tricep a flex, just so he
could see just how thick it was. "But a tiger can't change his spots. You
can't stand that other people like me, or that I'm friendly with strangers,
and it burns you up that other men think I'm attractive." She saw a bit of
jealous anger cross James' face before his newfound respect and fear for Alva
washed it off, but it was too late. She gave James a smile, a real one, then
leaned forward and kissed his busted lips. "I'll buy a train ticket in the
morning and return to my parents. Just tell people I needed the dry air for
health. That way you won't have to explain my absence, because I won't be
coming back."

She walked away while James followed behind her begging and pleading for her
to reconsider leaving him, but despite his begging he wasn't thinking about
losing his wife. He was thinking about how much she'd humiliated him, about
how she'd just turned him into a gelding, a half man. There was no way he
could go on like that. When Alva went to the broken table to see if she could
salvage her mother's vase, James picked up a broken table leg and brought it
high over his head. He knew he'd only have one shot, so despite the pain his
ribs, face, and back, he slammed the table leg into the back of Alva's head.

Alva fell down face first, but almost immediately started to stir. James'
first thought was to go fetch the doctor, like he'd done in the past when he'd
really let her have it, but this time was different ... she was different.
He'd begged her to spare his life, and like a fool she'd done it. She thought
that he'd let her walk out of his life. No. He wasn't going to allow that, so
he raised the table leg up again, and ended Alva's life.

110 Years Later - Present Day

The smile on Katie's face was almost as precious as the sunlight streaming in
through the stained glass window high above the foyer. She tucked a few
strands of blonde hair behind her ears and admired the multi-colored pattern
being cast on the richly stained hardwood floor and on the hand carved
railings coiling up and around the wall towards the second floor. It was
overwhelming to think that this beautiful old house belonged to she and her
husband. This Victorian home was oldest and grandest home in this neighborhood
full of much newer homes. It was like a little bit of the past living in the
present and Katie loved every inch of it. She couldn't wait for winter to come
so they could have a fire in the big fireplace. This would be the first house
she'd ever lived in that had an honest to goodness fireplace. Part of Katie
felt like she was in dream, like she'd wake up and find herself back in their
old apartment. She was in the middle of imagining spending the rest of her
life here when the door opened behind her.

"Coming through", her husband Brad announced from behind a tall stack of boxes
as he hurried in.

"Ohh!", Katie squealed as her husband brushed past.

He had a grin on his face as he looked back. "You know, we've got a truck full
of boxes out there and most of them literally have your name on them. They
aren't going to march in here by themselves", he said with a chuckle before
heading towards the room that was going to become his home office.

Katie stood there bemused, but walked outside when she couldn't think of a
good comeback. The moving company had already loaded the house with all the
big things, but Katie and Brad figured that they'd save some money by moving
the smaller items themselves. It had sounded like a good idea until they
realized just how much small stuff they had. The rental truck was packed from
floor to ceiling with stuff. Katie's mother had tried to convince her to have
a yard sale before moving, but Katie had countered that she didn't have a
yard. Looking up into the truck though, she wished that she'd taken her
mother's advice. Katie grimaced, but then genuinely smiled towards her new
neighbor who looked her way while he was clipping his hedges. Katie waved and
he waved back as she walked up the ramp into the truck.

Ed Jones had lived next door to that old house for ten years and he'd seen
plenty of neighbors come and go but he'd never seen a saccharine sweet young
couple like this, so in love and idealistic. At least the wife was cute. She
was a tall drink of water without much meat on her skinny limbs, but she had a
nice rack and some hips that gave her otherwise skinny body some real shape
down there. Despite lacking anything spectacular in the body department, her
face was beautiful enough for her to be a model. Ed had seen pictures of women
in glossy magazine adds who didn't look as good as his new neighbor.

Katie didn't even glance Ed Jones' way as she put her hands on the sides of a
box about halfway down the stack and attempt to lift it. She failed with red
faced frustration. She finally ended up reaching higher on the stack and
managing to lift a box. She realized, as she walked back in the house, that
she was less than half as strong as her husband. Brad didn't say anything
about Katie's light load. He knew that she was self conscious about her
physique despite her beauty. That's why he never talked about the girlfriend
he'd had before meeting Katie. She'd been a fitness competitor with enough
muscle to excite him in lots of ways, but he hadn't loved her. Plus Katie made
up for her lack of muscle in other ways.

Dinner was prepared in the microwave since both husband and wife were too
exhausted to cook, and then they snuggled next to each other on the couch
after dinner because neither of them had remembered to set up the bed. They
fell asleep with Katie's head resting on Brad's chest while Brad rested his
chin lightly against the top of Katie's head and inhaled the wonderful scent
of her flaxen hair.

Light from the late night shows shined on them, casting long shadows onto the
floor behind them while they slept. The shadows were still, just like the
shapes that created them, until the edges grew darker and coalesced slightly.
A barely visible mist dropped upward towards the ceiling like rain falling in
reverse, dark, black rain fell until a cloud hovered over the sleeping couple.
The dimmed lights flickered like candles in a breeze while lines of static
marred the once immaculate HD images on the television screen.

Katie frowned in her sleep, her eyelids pressing together tightly as the
cloudy mist moved closer to them. Uneasiness followed the mist and Katie felt
it. She stirred and it amused the mist until in Katie's moment uneasy fear,
she wrapped her arms around Brad's middle and held on tightly. This weak
little creature was sickening, holding onto her man for safety. Goosebumps
rose on Katie's skin in the moment before she stirred enough to wake Brad.

"You okay, sweetheart?", he asked as the mist disappeared and everything went
back to normal.

"Fine", she replied softly after a shake of her head. The mist was gone, but
not the hatred, only it couldn't decide which of the new inhabitants of the
house it hated more ... the husband or the wife.

The next day Katie and Brad arranged some things in the house and managed to
set up their bed room, which was nice because at the end of it all Katie was
pretty tired from the last couple of days. She didn't usually do that much
physical activity in a month. Despite her lingering soreness, Katie set out to
put finishing touches on the move. She'd hoped that Brad would be there to
help her, but his jerk boss hadn't given him the day off. It was a running
joke between husband and wife that Katie's boss would give her whatever she
wanted. All she had to do was smile at him and bat her lashes and he'd have
let her off for a month. As it was though, Katie felt that she only needed
another day.

She arranged the kitchen cabinets to her liking and the laundry room, while
organizing the closets. She had no idea where she was getting all of this
stamina from, but if she crashed later on in the day so be it. By the early
afternoon only small nitpicky things were left to do, like moving the table in
the foyer where it was supposed to be in the first place. She'd gotten the
perfect antique table for the foyer but the movers had put it in the wrong
spot. She wanted it further from the door, and since she wasn't going to call
them back to the house, and since it was still a couple hours before Brad got
home, Katie decided to do it herself. She put her hands on the side of the
heavy table, stretched her legs back like she was about to push a station
wagon and unleashed her mighty strength.

She grunted and strained and embarrassed herself when the table didn't budge.
When she thought that she'd just give up, she roared defiantly and doubled
down. With muscle trembling effort Katie managed to slide the table the twelve
inches that she'd wanted, and then she saw why the movers had put the table in
the wrong spot. Near the wall, and marring the immaculate hardwood floor was a
dull dark stain. It wasn't even varnished over. The wood was rough like
someone had used sandpaper on it and bare, colored only by that blotchy stain.

"That's going to have to go", Katie said to herself as she stared at the spot
for a moment. Katie had no idea what chemicals to use to clean hardwood, but
the internet was her friend so after a quick trip to the store Katie got to
work with some water, vinegar, and baking soda.

She felt so old-timey with a scarf tying her hair back while she scrubbed at
the spot, actually seeing some progress where others had obviously failed, but
as she worked at the stain, she started smelling something. It wasn't the
vinegar or anything else she was using, so she leaned closer and sniffed. She
was a bit confused when on closer inspection she didn't smell anything out of
the ordinary. She kept at it, and the scent returned. She kept moving the
brush back and forth with her little arms, and the smell intensified.

At first it was like old meat and then it smelled like a butcher shops trash
with putrefying blood of from a hundred dead animals. Katie stopped scrubbed
when the smell gagged and choked her. The horrid odor made her eyes water and
her nose run as she struggled to stand up and move away, but now the entire
house smelled of this death. No matter which way she turned, the smell
followed, even when she tried to cover her nose. If she'd looked up she would
have seen a wispy cloud hovering darkly in the midst of the multi-colored
light from the stained glass window.

Alva enjoyed watching this woman's suffering. She was a painfully weak, silly
young woman who didn't deserve Alva's pity. The pain Katie felt wasn't even a
fraction of the pain Alva herself had endured. "Pathetic", Alva thought as
Katie's panic grew. Katie couldn't hear Alva, but she felt her presence. She
felt the century old anger that formed the core of Alva's undeath. A key slid
into the front door lock, sounding like a train wreck to Katie's threadbare
senses, and then a smiling Brad walked in.

Katie threw her arms around her husband's neck and cried against his shoulder.
The smell left her nose like it had never been there in the first place.

"What's wrong?", a concerned Brad asked as he put an arm around his wife's
back to comfort her.

"That smell!", she exclaimed. "Do you smell it?!?"

Brad sniffed a few times. "The vinegar?"

"No! It smelled like a dead body ... like a hundred of them!"

Brad pulled Katie to arm's length and smiled again. "You have worked yourself
way too hard for the last couple of days", he said and lead her towards a
chair. Katie started explaining about the spot on the floor and how she'd
started smelling the horrible smell then how it had overwhelmed her.

"Don't worry about that spot", Brad said. "We'll just leave the table right
there." He easily pushed the table back where it had been. Katie breathed a
sigh of relief that the little episode was over, but up above, the mist
thought about giving Brad a little of what she'd given Katie. As she looked at
Katie holding onto Brad's hand for support an idea formed.

Brad took Katie out to dinner that night so she could get away for a moment.
Halfway through the dinner he had her laughing not just as his silly joke, but
also at what had happened while she'd been cleaning the floor. He convinced
her that her imagination must have run wild, but that mist was very real. When
the couple arrived to their new home, Alva's forever home for better or for
worse, Alva observed them from above just like she'd observed the dozens and
dozens of families who'd moved into this house since her death. She watched
Katie lean on Brad for support even as they lay down to sleep, in the same
room where Alva had once laid down with that murderous James.

The anger welled inside Alva as she entered the room, the light coming in
through the open windows dimmed and dimmed until it was like blackness was
coming in on the breeze. The curtains disappeared and a mass of dark air
swirled and swirled until it began to form a face, Alva's face. Then her head
appeared as she focused her burning anger, not towards James, who had been
dead many years now, but on the weakness of this woman. Even after all this
time the men still kept women weak ... well no more. Alva had spent too much
time feeling angry and lost. She'd found her purpose. Alva's face shown like
it had in life with its clear skin and her emerald green eyes shined in the
darkness. The ends of her raven locks disappeared into nothingness as she
moved closer to Katie, who now slept fitfully.

"Shhh", the ghost comforted with a wicked smile. "You're too weak", Alva
whispered just before Katie reached out for Brad's arm. Alva's ghostly face
twisted with inhuman anger. "TOO WEAK!", the spectre yelled directly into
Katie and the blonde writhed in agony. "You cling to that man while he keeps
you down. He's the reason you're so weak."

"So weak!", a still sleeping Katie repeated as the ghost's thoughts and
emotions invaded her mind.

"Get stronger. Build up your body and your mind will follow."

"Get stronger", Katie said as the mist above her disappeared.

"I'm thinking of joining a gym", Katie told Brad that next morning over
breakfast.

"Oh really? Did that table thing put this into your head?"

Katie smiled and it still had the power to make Brad's heart skip a beat.
"No", she declared. "I've been thinking about it for a while. I should get in
shape. I'm the poster girl for skinny fat", she said and Brad laughed. She
reached across the table and slapped him on the shoulder. "You don't have to
agree with them. But ... what do you think about it?"

Brad smiled across the table. "You know you're beautiful already, but yeah. If
it'll make you happy then I think it's a great idea."

"You won't think it's great for long", Alva thought. She was practically giddy
with this development. Usually she'd tormented residents until they left the
house, but this situation was different, or maybe it was that Katie was
different. Alva wasn't sure, and either way it didn't matter.

Katie was so extremely nervous when she drove up to the gym that she nearly
drove off twice, but after taking a deep breath she got out of her car to head
inside. Just then she heard a loud horn toot and she turned to see her new
trainer Trace pulling up in his black pick-up truck. He was a thickly muscled
former powerlifter a few years older than Katie and Brad. He had an easy way
about him, but she could tell that he wasn't a pushover. "You're early", he
said. "That's good. It means you're eager."

"I'm terrified", Katie admitted with a nervous laugh.

"Don't be", he said as they walked inside. "You're going to love being in
better shape. It just takes some work to get there." Trace was quite
understanding while Katie explained her plight and after a few minutes he
asked, "So Katie, what do you want out of our sessions?"

"I want to get stronger", Katie declared with a brave smile on her face.

Trace smiled back and then went to work. Katie had been so sore early on that
she almost couldn't get out of bed. It wasn't that Trace was working her like
she was some world class athlete, but Katie was so out of shape that
everything she did was taxing. All the while Brad was there to encourage Katie
when she didn't want to go to the gym or when she didn't want to do the
exercises that Trace wanted her to do at home.

As time wore on, people started noticing the changes to Katie's body. Guys
would stare at her a little longer than before, back when her face was the
only thing of note. Those people weren't the only ones noticing Katie's body
change. Alva looked on with pride. It was as if she'd planted a seed and that
seed was starting grow.

One morning while Brad was out for a jog, Katie rolled out of bed and stood in
front of the full length mirror. It actually hung on the door next to where
Alva had once had her mirror. Katie felt silly as she stood there scrutinizing
her body because even after a few months it was leaps and bounds beyond where
it had been before. She raised her right arm, form a fist, and flexed.

She covered her mouth and giggled as she watched the small knot of muscle
define itself on her upper arm. She was shocked. It was like her head had been
transplanted onto a body that she could barely recognize. Then she thought of
all the hard work she'd put into these muscles. She rotated her hips and saw
abs poking through where there'd only been flab before. She almost thought
that she'd feel some sense of satisfaction, but she didn't. She wanted more.
She wanted to be bigger and stronger. These were baby steps, and yet for the
first time in her life, her own body was turning her on.

She jumped to the side with one leg in front of the other and flexed her legs
and glutes. It was amazing, but she actually had a backside to speak of now.
She jumped again to face the mirror full on and tensed her entire body,
watching her muscles flex as hard as they could. Almost on its own, Katie's
right hand made its way down her abdomen, lower and lower until her body
quaked with a sudden wave of pleasure. Katie slipped her hand beneath her
panties and rubbed her clit a bit quicker. She let out a little moan before
backing off. She didn't want Brad to walk in on her. She went to take a shower
while the light drained out of the room she'd just been in, making it as black
as a tomb.

Alva was incensed. Katie had just denied herself to please her husband, and he
wasn't even there! How many times did women give and give to men who didn't
deserve their devotion. Alva would teach Katie though. She'd explain the way
things should be, because before she'd stopped flexing in the mirror, there'd
been a change. Katie had just gotten her taste of power, and now Alva was
going to use her influence to make Katie crave strength and the freedom it
would bring.

Katie attacked her workouts with a gusto that even the professionals admired.
She was tired of being a weakling. She followed Trace's workouts to the
letter, with everything she had, but one day she told him, "I want to take it
up a notch. My little doll muscles aren't enough any more. I don't want to
maintain them, I want to grow!" She smiled and flexed her biceps. Katie had as
much muscle as an average bikini competitor and that was more than enough for
most women, but Trace was starting to realize that Katie wasn't most women.
Her body responded to workouts better than anybody he'd ever seen, woman or
man. Deep down he'd worried that this genetic freak of a woman would settle.
He didn't have to worry about that now.

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