Stick Insect
by GG


I needed fresh air and exercise, the doctor said. I was having fits of 
dizzyness and had fainted a few times. Being 6'1" and 100 lbs was 
dangerously underweight, and I was ordered to eat properly. He had diagnosed 
an eating disorder with a long name - not anorexia - but something which 
sort of translated into lack of appetite. I decided to take up an offer of 
staying what remained of the summer with a college friend of mine. Harry was 
22 like me and had just inherited a rambling old house in the country with 
acres of land. He had a crush on me and despite being a head shorter at 
5'4", became my steady boyfriend for two years at college. We sort of 
drifted apart in the final year, but still remained friends.

'Hey! Sally! Stick insect!' he shouted as I walked out of the train station. 
  We greeted in the usual comical way - him on tiptoes and me crouching a 
bit. During the drive out to his place I explained my doctor's orders. He 
said there was so much to be done around the place that exercise and fresh 
air would be in overdose, and he would force feed me if necessary to get me 
to my target of 140 lbs.

As I was unpacking, I realised that the first problem was clothes. I was a 
city girl, and the only jeans I had were a very expensive designer make. 
Harry drove me into the nearby town where I got myself kitted out with 
everything he suggested for the country life, and that evening I was shown 
round his grounds wearing a check shirt, blue jeans and thick soled mid calf 
length lace-up boots. I may have looked the part, but when he described all 
the work that had to be done, I began to have doubts about it all. I had not 
done a minute's exercise in my life, let alone the hard labour he was 
describing, and I had no muscles whatsoever.

Too early in the morning, I started on what he called a light job - sawing 
the branches off a fallen tree. Needless to say I was useless and hardly got 
anything done by lunchtime, save giving myself aching arms and shoulders and 
bruised hands. However I had worked up the biggest appetite I had ever known 
and ate like a horse. In the afternoon I was demoted to weed puller and 
spent hours giving myself an aching back and legs to match. That evening I 
ate another huge pile of food, deflected his hints about sex and dropped 
into bed to sleep for about ten hours.

In the morning, I could hardly move, but the smell of breakfast being cooked 
got me downstairs. Harry was very cheerful and asked me if I was ready for 
some real work today. I was not amused.

By the third day of this regime, I had stopped aching and felt surprisingly 
good. I was still eating enough for two and at dinner, Harry remarked that I 
was looking much better. I had got a bit of a tan and he swore I had put on 
weight, but I didn't think so. We went into town for supplies and Harry 
bought some scales.

'There. What did I tell you!' he said as I balanced on them in the kitchen. 
'110. That's ten pounds in four days!'

I didn't really believe it, thinking that the scales just read differently 
to the ones at the doctor's, but by the end of the week, I was up to 120. I 
stood naked in front of the full length mirror that night trying to see 
where the weight was going. I certainly did not have any fat on me, and my 
waist was still exactly the same size. It was a mystery and I shrugged at 
myself.

It was Friday and Harry announced that if I finished clearing out all the 
rubbish from the shed by five, he would take me to Luigi's for dinner. It 
was the best restaurant in town, and I could dress up and remember I was a 
girl and not a labourer.

By six I was drying myself after a shower and wondering what to wear. I did 
my hair and drenched myself in perfume, then took out my white blouse and 
white designer jeans. I had not brought a lot of clothes down, and these 
would be smart enough. I stood in front of the mirror as I slipped the 
blouse on. Something was wrong! It felt really odd - so tight on the arms 
and shoulders, but I supposed it only felt like that because I had been 
wearing baggy clothes all week. I started to pull the jeans on but they felt 
strange too. My calves seemed to get stuck and I had great difficulty 
getting my thighs into them, but the waist seemed to be looser than normal.

I pulled my flat heeled shoes on and went downstairs where Harry was 
waiting.  His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me.

'Wow!' he said, and whistled. 'You look just amazing!. I have a thing for 
skin tight jeans.'

'That room I'm in must be damp or something.' I replied.  ' My clothes seen 
to have shrunk.'

He laughed. 'Don't be silly! Remember you've put on twenty pounds.'

I told him that I had no fat on me so the scales must be faulty.

He laughed again. 'Not fat, muscle!'

I made a funny face at him. ' Oh come on. In just one week ? After a bit of 
gardening ? I thought you had to do weight training for that anyway.'

We drove towards the town on a beautiful evening and Harry complimented me 
again on how fit I looked. Perhaps he was right. I had never paid much 
attention to my body, but I certainly felt better than ever before. Also, I 
was getting hornier! I had been so tired every night that we hadn't yet done 
what was so obviously on his mind, but I hadn't been in so much of a coma 
the previous night, and got a powerful urge.

'Good food in this place, is it?' I asked casually.

'The best!' he said, making a sign with the thumb and forefinger of his left 
hand forming an O.

'OK.' I purred. 'If you are a good boy, you can have me for desert.' He 
swerved a bit, and then a broad grin came over his face.

We had a great evening. The food was perfect, and when we got back I was 
rampant! We made love for hours, mostly with me on top and I think I wore 
him out. It had always been the other way round before.

The work routine eased off during the next two weeks, but I was still eating 
tons, and had developed a passion for steak. Sometimes, usually after a 
particularly strenuous sex session, Harry voted a day off - that is, getting 
the sun loungers out and working on our tans with a barbecue going.
My bikini top seemed to have shrunk as well as my other clothes, so I 
decided to go topless and Harry was very supportive of my efforts to get an 
overall tan. I was having a great time and just felt better and better. I 
actually craved exercise as well as food, and when he wanted to flop, I 
found something to do. One time, I went for a run and surprised myself that 
it had been ten miles.

I had been in this country idyll for nearly four weeks when Harry announced 
that he had to go away for a month. It was a job thing that an uncle had 
arranged with the family business. I was so disappointed, but cheered up 
when he said he'd like me to stay and look after the place. I was in no rush 
to get a job myself so I jumped at it.

I made him write out a list of everything that needed to be done so I could 
be useful. The biggest job was breaking up some old concrete foundations 
where a stable block used to be, and digging out a pit for his grand 
project, a swimming pool.

'But that's no job for a girl.' he said. I'll get some contractors in with 
heavy machinery to do that.'

I missed him for the first couple of days, and just sat around, but then got 
into the swing of it again. I finished the list of 'girly' jobs in three 
days and decided to have a go at the real stuff. The harder I worked, the 
more I enjoyed it- and this was hard - breaking up a large area of thick 
concrete with a pickaxe, and then carting the big lumps of concrete the 
length of the garden to where they would be dumped in a hollow and filled 
over.  It was sweaty and dirty, and it is a good thing that the place was 
not overlooked, because I worked practically naked - just boots and bikini 
bottom. I had worn through the leather gardening gloves I started with but 
my hands seemed to have hardened up so I carried on without them.

I really wanted to impress Harry and planned to get the whole site cleared 
for the pool before he got back. I was at it ten hours a day, like a frenzy 
- work, eat, sleep - work, eat, sleep - and made good progress, with the 
routine only broken to get more provisions from town, including a bulk pack 
of huge sirloin steaks for the freezer. I'm sure the doc would say that so 
much red meat was unhealthy, but he just said eat!  Boy, was I eating!

Harry phoned every couple of evenings and I kept quiet about the project. 
Five and a half weeks later he gave me the arrival time of his flight and 
asked me to meet him at the airport. I was thrilled! The foundations were 
cleared and I had dug out most of the pit. I was dying to see him and he 
would be amazed with what I had done.

The plane was due at 7 pm the next evening. It was an hour's drive to the 
airport and I checked the route, then decided to sort out something smart to 
wear for the occasion. Mud-caked work clothes would not do! The white 
designer jeans and silk blouse were still over the back of a chair - 
untouched since the evening at Luigi's. I remembered how tight they had been 
the last time so I decided to try them on, just in case they had shrunk some 
more.

This time, I gave myself a shock! My forearm would not even fit into the 
sleeve of the blouse! What was going on? I pushed harder and the seam gave 
way. I swore. This was an expensive item! I put my other arm in and the same 
thing happened - then the whole thing just disintegrated in a series of 
ripping sounds as I tried to pull it onto my shoulders. How could it have 
shrunk so much? I picked up the jeans and hoped they had not been so 
affected by the damp or whatever, but when I tried to put them on, I could 
not even get my calves into them! Frustrated, once again I pushed harder and 
the material ripped like paper. I swore again and pulled them on roughly, 
bursting the seams on both legs.

I ran to the mirror and just gaped! I had not even glanced at my body for 
six weeks and I could hardly believe it! The blouse, which looked about four 
sizes too small, hung in tatters off what appeared to be a bronzed torso of 
a goddess. Was that me ?  Huge muscles bulged everywhere and even my breasts 
seemed to be two sizes bigger. I was a completely different person! The 
jeans were wrecked and enormous thigh and calf muscles surged through the 
torn material.

I was awestruck by the sight, but I was aware of a powerful and very strange 
kind of turn on. I just stared at myself. How could I not have noticed the 
changes? Too busy! Too tired!

Very slowly, I reached up and ripped the shredded blouse down across my 
chest, letting it drop to the floor. My breasts looked huge and firm as 
rocks! Then equally slowly, I pulled on the denim over my right thigh. The 
tough material felt like soft tissue paper as it tore so easily in my grip. 
Without any effort at all, I ripped the jeans to shreds and flung them 
across the room. I must have stood transfixed in front of the mirror for ten 
minutes, then spent another ten flexing my muscles as if to prove they were 
real.

'Oh my God!' I mouthed repeatedly as a huge mound of bicep swelled up. I was 
getting pretty near orgasm and actually came at the sight of the way my leg 
muscles rippled when I moved.

After while, I got back down to Earth. This new body needed some new 
clothes. Harry was going to get the surprise of his life when he saw me, and 
I wanted it to be a pleasant one.

First thing in the morning, I drove into town and looked around. It was 
getting into autumn and this one boutique had a style that I liked and would 
suit my amazon proportions - a sort of Spanish riding look - beige breeches, 
white shirt, bolero jacket and a fashion version of riding boots. The 
breeches were no problem - they were in a stretch material that my steel 
hard legs would not tear, but the tops were another story. Even the largest 
size was far to narrow in the shoulders. The boots were no go too; I was a 
size bigger than the biggest they had, and the calves on them were far too 
narrow.

I was a bit disappointed but bought the breeches anyway, and found a dress 
shirt in a man's shop that looked just like the one in the boutique, but 
with the advantage of fitting. Later, I saw a gorgeous stylish tan leather 
jacket that I couldn't resist.

I was doing well, but still no boots. I had given up on the high boot look 
and decided that ankle length would have to do, when I passed a riding shop. 
Right in the window, they had some amazing Argentinian polo boots in just 
the same colour as my new jacket. I hoped beyond hope that they had wide 
calf fittings - they did - and I got a pair that felt as if they had been 
made for me! On the way back, I felt over the moon, but tried not to think 
of the credit card bill.

I pranced around the house in my new fashion, admiring myself in every 
mirror I could find. I had even bought some matching tan leather gloves to 
complete the outfit.

I didn't work the next day, but tried  to get my hair right and played 
around with makeup that I hadn't touched for weeks. It eventually came time 
to leave for the airport and I knew I looked good. He phoned my mobile on 
the way, and said he had already cleared customs and would meet me in the 
carpark outside the terminal. I saw him as I pulled in and he waved as he 
recognised the car. However the greeting was not as I expected.

He became almost catatonic as I climbed out of the landrover and walked over 
to him. I could see his jaw drop as he looked me up and down. I knew I had 
changed totally - both in body and image, and it must have been too much for 
him! At the same time, I realised that his image for me had changed. I had 
missed him so much, but now I got a fleeting impression of a tiny, puny man 
- insignificant and intimidated.

'Sally. You.. you're so... BIG!'

'Hi.' I smiled down at him. He seemed to have lost three inches in height. I 
did not crouch down as I usually did when me met - I somehow did not feel 
like it.  Instead I stood with my hands on my hips and waited. He stood on 
tiptoes to kiss me after a second, but he was never going to reach, and I 
just put my hands under his armpits, lifted him up effortlessly, kissed him 
once, and lowered him down again.

'Come on. Lets get back and say hello properly.' I said, winking at him and 
grabbing his suitcase. I threw him the car keys and got into the passenger 
side, tossing the suitcase onto the back seat. He gawped at me some more, 
then climbed in and we set off.

He just kept going on about how much I had changed, and I had to remind him 
to keep his eyes on the road several times. At the same time I was 
astonished at how my perception of him had altered. He could not have 
changed at all, but he now looked so weedy. I had never thought of him as 
weak, but his arms and legs looked so thin and seemed shapeless under his 
shirt and jeans. I noticed how the width of my boot at the calf was about 
the same as his thigh!

It was not that surprising, I decided - when I checked the scales after the 
clothes ripping session, I gasped when the dial went round to 210 lbs! I had 
more than doubled in size since I arrived, and gone from 40 lbs lighter than 
Harry, to 70 lbs heavier - and still without an ounce of fat!  One and a 
half times his weight and God knows how many times as strong. I had amused 
myself the previous evening by bending some thick steel reinforcing bars I 
unearthed  from the foundations. I had made a straight one into a U and held 
it up, singing "Supergirl... supergirl..." as I danced around, gyrating my 
newly discovered body like a lunatic.

I was still as fond of him as before, but I felt strangely protective and 
totally dominant at the same time. He felt like my toy, my slave - and I 
wondered how he would cope with that. I was thinking in a completely 
different way to ever before - I felt so powerful. Something had definitely 
happened to my mind as well as my body!

He complimented my outfit and said I looked awesome. I thanked him. Then he 
said something which really threw me.

'You know, you look so fit it would not surprise me if you were nearly as 
strong as I am.'

I sort of gagged. Couldn't he see the shape of the steel hard muscles 
bulging under my clothes? Did he think that was fat ? I had picked him up 
like a rag doll but he probably thought I was straining to do it. Maybe he 
just needed to feel in charge and was blanking out the plainly obvious. It 
did annoy me a bit that he could be so dumb, and I decided to play along; 
sort of.

I grabbed his thin arm and playfully squeezed it, being careful, because I 
could break bricks with my bare hands, and would crush his soft flesh to a 
pulp and snap the bone like a twig if I gripped too hard.

'Oh, I could never be that strong!' I giggled.

'Hey. Not while I'm driving!' he shouted. I had hurt him, but he tried not 
to show it. I would have to be more careful than I thought !

We got back and I took him straight into the garden to see my excavation 
work. Understandably, he was flabbergasted but refused to believe I had 
done it alone. He quizzed me repeatedly about who I had got in - how much 
did they charge ? - I should not have spent money like that - there was no 
rush.
I was quite hurt and annoyed at this, but just shrugged at him and turned to 
walk back to the house. He raced round me and blocked my way.

'Come on, how much?' He said, almost aggressively. 'I'm going to pay you 
back every penny of what you spent.'

I was getting tired of this and brushed him aside with the back of my hand - 
rather too forcefully! He caught his foot and fell over backwards comically, 
and I laughed loudly as he sprawled there, getting a curious urge to plant 
my large booted foot on his little chest. I resisted this and offered him my 
gloved hand instead. He sprang to his feet with a look on his face that I 
had never seen before.

'You bitch!' he spat. Despite his evil expression, I thought he was playing. 
He sprang at me, pushing at my shoulder trying to knock me over, but just 
sort of bounced off. He was far too weak and light. I could not help 
laughing once more as I helped him on his way with another backhand. He 
landed on his back again.

We had rough and tumbled in the past, but he had always got the advantage of 
course, holding me down and tickling me until we both dissolved into fits of 
laughter.  When he got up for the second time, I realised that this was 
totally different. He had a really ugly look, both his fists were clenched, 
and he was shaking with rage! What was going on? Nothing had happened but he 
looked as if he wanted to kill me!

'Listen, you pumped up cow,' he hissed 'I've just had a month of hell 
working for a stupid bitch and I couldn't get out of it because of Uncle 
Roy. After that, I'm not going to take any shit from a woman ever again!'

He stood there trembling for a second and then turned and walked quickly to 
the kitchen door. So that was it! I was beginning to feel angry at him, but 
now I just felt sorry for him. I would leave him alone for a while and then 
go and cheer him up - apologise, anything - do girly things for him. Then I 
realised that I would probably have to go. In his present state of mind, he 
would hardly want a 6'1" 210lb superwoman around the place!

I had expected him to be up in his bedroom, but I found him sitting at the 
kitchen table, reading the TV guide. He seemed quite relaxed and smiled at 
me as I came through the door.

'Caught me off balance there, babe!' he said cheerfully. 'Hey, there's a 
good movie on tonight. After you've made dinner we could watch it.'

I really felt that one! It wasn't what he said - we took turns to cook 
anyway - but the tone was way out! I was so taken aback that I decided to 
let it pass.

'Just going up to get changed.' I went up to my room and got undressed. What 
should I do ? I sat naked on the bed and looked at myself in the mirror. I 
desperately wanted to stay here, but how ? Even if I could put up with his 
new attitude, even if I could act the submissive, I could not change my 
body. He was a wimp and I was a goddess. Any pretence could not last long, 
so I made up my mind to be myself. I'd go back to town and get a job - it 
had to happen sooner or later.

The irritating part of all this was that I was horny as hell! As I looked at 
myself, a little plan popped into my head. If I was going to leave anyway, 
then what the hell..........

I got into bed and covered myself up so that just my head was showing. Then 
I called out in my girliest voice.

'Oh Harry, darling'

I heard footsteps on the stairs and he poked his head round the door. I blew 
him a kiss.

'If you're not too tired after your trip.....'

'Hey you just warm up that bed, sweetie!' He said smiling. 'I'll just have a 
quick shower and be right in.'

He was going to get the shock of his life! After a few minutes he entered 
carrying a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He was dressed in a white 
towel robe with a hotel logo on it - a souvenir from the trip.

'Noel Coward or James Bond?' I asked, blowing him another kiss.

'Both!' he replied, putting the champagne on the dresser and undoing his 
robe. He let it fall to his feet. 'That's for afterwards. This is for now.' 
He had got an erection, and indicated his smallish cock with a wave of his 
hand. 'Like what you see?'

I did not. He looked pathetic! I had never realised how puny his body really 
was.

Well the time had come. 'Oh yes!' I lied, then threw back the bedclothes and 
climbed out, standing up to my full height. I took a step towards him and 
then struck a pose like a bodybuilder in a competition flexing both my 
biceps as hard as I could.

'How about this? Like what you see too?'

I was afraid he was going to die on the spot! He kept looking me up and down 
repeatedly and he was mouthing words, but no sound was coming out.

He took a step backwards as if cowering from me and tripped over my 
discarded boot. I leapt forward and caught him, scooped him up and threw him 
onto the bed. He was still erect and I wasn't going to waste it.

With a single cat like movement I was on top of him, spreadeagling his 
defenceless body. I wrapped my legs around his and held both his wrists 
above his head, then I came down on him hard and fast, using him like a sex 
toy. His erection held up and I came powerfully, matching his screams of 
pain with those of ecstacy.

Well, that's done it, I thought heading for the champagne, not what he 
expected, but it satisfied me! He didn't move for a while but I saw him 
twitch when I popped the cork.

'Want some?'  He did not reply. I pulled on some shorts and a teeshirt and 
went downstairs with the wine. I was going to cook a steak and watch TV.

He came down when the movie was half way through and I had finished half of 
the bottle. He was in the robe but all trace of Noel had disappeared.

'I hope you don't think you're still welcome here.' He said coldly. 'You can 
leave in the morning.' His tone was very nasty.

I just laughed and held out the champagne glass towards him.  'Fill this up, 
will you.'

He looked half mad. 'Get it yourself, bitch!'

I had never known him behave like this, and I was annoyed but amused at the 
prospect of teaching him some manners. I sprang up and grabbed the front of 
his robe with my left hand gathering the material together under his chin, 
then lifted him so he had to stand on tiptoe. I loved the feeling this gave 
me. He was completely under my control! My bicep looked the size of a 
football as he pushed at it with his pathetic rubber band arms.

I virtually carried him through to the kitchen like this with his toes 
scrabbling across the floor.

'Put me down, bitch!' he repeated over and over.

I was having fun! I filled up my glass slowly, and sipped at the champagne 
thoughtfully, acting as if it was quite normal to have a 140 lb man dangling 
there. I marvelled at the fact that my arm was not getting at all tired! He 
punched at my face but I just straightened my arm slightly so that the puny 
blows landed on my rock hard shoulder. This was effortless delicious fun.


End of part 1