Renee Armstrong: Smaller, Stronger, Faster, More
By MERZ;  mrmerz@yahoo.com	
When good things get put into small, sometimes brutal, packages


PROLOGUE

After a year of planning my transformation comes tomorrow evening. I can't
sleep. I feel like I'm giving birth to myself. When I was passed over for
tenure I thought my life was over. By tradition I would be expected to move on
at the end of the school year, to start over somewhere else if I could find
someone to hire me. Now I know one life is over, and good riddance, but the
next one will be much richer, much more fun.

I owe so much of it to Stuart Davidson, I really should reward him in some
way. Of course, he stole credit for some of my work so I have already paid in
advance. But his growth machine will be my ticket to a fresh start and I
should be grateful for that. I remember that fool talking about his wonderful
growth machine and his joking that he should turn it on himself so he could
make himself bigger than I am. He's all of five foot seven or five-eight to my
six feet one inch. He was so proud that he was able to beat me at arm
wrestling despite my height advantage. The vain little man. He works out
constantly, of course he's stronger than a woman of the same weight, even a
taller one. By the same token he should have expected it when I beat him
easily at basketball because I played through four years of college and had my
height advantage. But when he told me about his growth machine I realized
instantly that all it would do would be to expand his existing mass over
greater volume. His weight would be the same, his muscle mass would be the
same, but his skeleton would stretch and actually be weaker. His concept might
have some value for increasing fiber output from plants or food from domestic
animals, but that sort of magical growth for people would offer nothing. I
would welcome seeing him inflate himself to some sort of gangling stick. I
would snap him in half. But a condensing mechanism would be an entirely
different story.

Stuart unwittingly gave me all the particulars I would need to adapt my ideas
to his own machine. Changing the frequency of the energy stream would cause
tissue to condense rather than expand. I've never minded being a tall woman,
even if men seem to prefer the petite ones. In fact I like dressing up in
heels to increase my height. At first I was just looking for a way to start
over. Then I realized the implications. My bones and muscles would be denser
and stronger. I would maintain my same physical strength in a smaller package.
Working at night after Stuart had left for the day I perfected some filters
and rheostats I could temporarily wire into Sturat's machine. When I tested my
prototype I found weight was lost in the transformation of my first lab rat.
That puzzled me until I realized the body of the experimental animal was
releasing energy.

The first lab animals I condensed were hot to the touch as energy radiated off
them over the next twenty-four hours. Weight loss was in rough proportion to
reduction in size, but stabilized after the initial twenty-four hours. Then I
discovered the range of weight loss was related to how active the animal was
after condensing. The more active the less weight was lost in the form of
energy, BECAUSE THE ENERGY WAS ABSORBED IN THE TISSUES. Somehow by being
active immediately after the process the bodies of the test animals absorbed
the energy and converted it to muscular strength. A sedated rat condensed
twenty percent lost twenty per cent of initial weight but was as strong as
before. A rat condensed twenty per cent and then exercised vigorously for an
hour lost fifteen per cent of initial weight, but was twice as strong as
before. Now this was very interesting.

I made my plans carefully. I appropriated the identity of a woman brought to
the university hospital dead from a drug overdose. She appeared to be about my
age. I found her social security number and began setting up a parallel life
for myself. I got her a drivers license, I got her taxes up to date, then I
legally changed her name to the identity I would assume upon my coming out:
Renee Armstrong. Renee for my rebirth, Armstrong for the fact I would be many
times as strong as any normal woman of the same size. The thought of being a
little five-foot, hundred pound bit of fluff disgusted me, but a five- foot
woman capable of bending steel bars had some appeal. I provided Renee with a
little furnished apartment and a car. All that was paid for with unsolicited
credit cards the stupid banks insisted on sending me. I made almost all the
purchases in the last month so no debt was overdue when I disappeared. The car
was the best part. With my trade-in and platinum credit cards I bought my
roadster free and clear as far as the dealer was concerned. Twenty- five per
cent credit card interest was my problem and the bank's as far as he cared. I
promptly signed the title over to my good friend Renee. Renee doesn't owe
anything on any of those cards. She starts life fresh and pure. I wish I could
have provided her with more of a wardrobe, but the process doesn't allow
enough precision to predict dress or shoe sizes. I would take care of that in
short order when I emerged.

DAY ONE

I removed the tinfoil cap that protected my brain from any effects of the
rays. I can't tell from my animal experiments if there are any mental side
effects but I want to take no chances. I also removed the tin foil strips that
I had on my cheekbones as well as the cones I wore over my breasts for part of
the treatment. My face appears different from before in a very stylish way,
and my bust is proportionately larger than before, although somewhat condensed
and firmer. No one will see me as simply a smaller version of my former self.

As soon as I emerged from the chamber I weighed and measured myself, dressed
in my exercise clothes, and headed for the gym. I had gone from six feet one
inch to just over five feet, a loss of seventeen per cent. My weight had gone
from 170 pounds to 164 and was still declining. Metrically, as I will have to
report all this if I submit my experiments to a scientific journal, that would
be 177.5 cm down to 148, 76.5 kg down to 74. I detoured to buy new basketball
shoes on the way to the campus fitness facility. How sweet. Instead of size
eleven I wear size four.

I timed my treatment around activity at the fitness facility. I intended to
workout for several hours and knew the effects of bottling up the energy would
change me in ways that would be immediately visible. I didn't want witnesses
to the growth I anticipated so I made my transformation on Saturday, the least
busy night of the week. I wore my old exercise clothes, but the fit was
completely different now. The baggy shirt stopped at my elbow, the shorts
drooped to my knees. Perfect. My skin was hot to the touch and I didn't want
to arouse curiosity in anyone brushing against me.

First I joined in one of the evening pickup basketball games that is always
going on while the gyms are open. Basketball is my sport, although I doubt
I'll ever again be asked to play center. As far as the rest of the players
were concerned I was just a short new woman joining in. At first I was
awkward, but I didn't care. I was doing this to stimulate fast twitch muscles.
As long as I spent time running, jumping, making fast direction changes,
reaching for balls flying past, I knew I was pouring energy into the areas I
wanted to tune up beyond my baseline. After half an hour I could feel how much
more agile I had become. I didn't play as aggressively as I had at my former
size. My short stature wouldn't intimidate anyone, and I didn't want to be
noticeable for unusual strength on my first day out. But a couple of times
players collided with me as I stood my ground. Each time they went smashing to
the floor as if they had hit a tree. My weight was much greater than they
expected, my muscle density much harder than anything they had felt before.
Each time I was outwardly solicitous and concerned as I saw the damage my new
body had inflicted, but inwardly I was exultant. The injuries to other players
were always passed off as their own fault because I had just been standing
there when we collided.

I played for ninety minutes and knew at the end of the game I was quicker and
more agile than any woman I had ever seen on the court. I thanked the other
players for the game and headed for the swimming pool. As I changed I saw my
legs had grown more muscled and defined just from the running and jumping.
Just wait until I began my strength workout!

Swimming was nearly the end of me. I had not considered how increased density
would affect buoyancy. When I dove in I sank like a stone. Keeping my head
above water took much more effort than I was used to while swimming, but in
some ways that helped my plan. I swam for an hour until the pool closed. I was
concentrating on muscle endurance, using a variety of strokes to work my legs,
arms and back. Then it was back to the locker room to change again. This time
I noted in the mirror that my back had expanded with muscle. The lattisimus
and trapezius muscles flared wide. Now it was on to the weight room to really
make some changes.

The weight room is open until midnight. I got there at ten o'clock and was
pleased to see few other people. I worked in circuits trying to hit every
muscle group. I had only this one opportunity during the first twenty-four
hours after the treatment when I could harness all the energy I still felt
radiating from my condensed body. The next day my temperature would drop to
normal and I would have locked in my new physique. I made three circuits doing
a dozen exercises. The first time around I used the same weight as I worked
with in my old life. Each circuit after that I found I could double the weight
I used. I alternated working muscle groups so they had recovery time as the
muscles fibers absorbed their supercharges of energy. At the end of the second
cycle I was benching 150 pounds. I paused a moment to think before taking my
next step. My third set would be with 300 pounds. Right now I stood at the
apex of female strength. If I went for that next cycle I would be stepping
into unexplored, superhuman territory. Maybe my bones wouldn't be able to
handle the stresses of supporting such strong muscles. Maybe there is some
limit to what human tissue can handle and I was about to exceed that limit. I
went for the third cycle, finishing with the bench press and pushing 300
pounds for twelve reps. At the end a chill went through me as all the energy
produced through my condensing process was directed inward to my muscles. By
then it was midnight and I was alone in the room. I had no witnesses to my
feat and was ready to quit when the trainer flicked the lights to announce
closing time.

I went directly to my new apartment, abandoning everything from my previous
existence. The one tiny bedroom has a wall of mirrors in front of the closet
to make the room seem larger. Before going to bed I checked out my handiwork.
I was incredible. I checked my weight. Only two additional pounds lost. More
had been converted from radiating energy into muscular strength, energy like
nuclear fuel that had far more potency than its mass implied. My muscles had
had unusual density from the treatment from the beginning. Now even relaxed my
arms felt like oak. In front of my mirror wall I flexed and watched a great
ball of steel rise proudly from my arm. I had been accustomed to seeing a
long, lean reflection in the mirror. Now I was admiring a broad stone statue
looking back at me. At that moment I think I must have fallen in love, or at
least in lust. Practically drooling over my own image I began masturbating
until orgasms rattled me to my dense bones. Too late I realized I had just
been exercising muscles that were plenty strong enough in my old self, and
that had gained strength just through the treatment. Now I carried a dangerous
weapon between my legs that would need careful control to avoid hurting
someone. I smiled as I fell asleep exhausted.

DAY TWO

I have never felt such pain. I had noted lethargy in my lab animals the day
following treatment, particularly when I began experimenting with the exercise
factor. Now I understood. Every muscle fiber felt torn, shredded, stretched
beyond bearing. I knew we all have a fixed number of muscle fibers and merely
strengthen that set through exercise. Now I was feeling the effects of the
most intensive strengthening regime any human has ever experienced. I just
wanted to lie in bed and ache. Instead I forced myself out of my fetal
position under the covers to stretch for ten minutes every hour. I was pleased
and surprised to discover that during the first part of the day the stretching
noticeably increased my flexibility beyond what it had been in my old life. I
hadn't thought to test changes in flexibility in my animal experiments. Now I
knew the tendons, ligaments and muscles were also susceptible to increased
limberness and range of motion in the day following condensation. The agony
eased in the evening after I passed my twenty four-hour mark. It still hurt,
but I was at least able to leave the bedroom and eat a little before retiring
for the night.

In the course of that long, painful day my scientific training kept pushing to
the surface. I had no idea what sort of energy was released in the condensing
treatment. I didn't understand how it converted to heat nor the mechanism that
allowed active muscles to absorb the energy and transform it into strength
without increasing mass. I had stepped through the looking glass and wanted to
know how it worked. I figured there was a Nobel Prize in this thing, if I
could get back to a laboratory and research it. The condensing process would
remain my secret, but the energy conversion and storage had other applications
that would benefit the world. I grew bored thinking about world betterment and
fell asleep. I dreamed of ways I could better my own situation.

DAY THREE

The suicide note I had mailed would arrive today. I would also arrive. First
thing after an enormous breakfast, I dyed my hair a lighter shade. Then I
dressed in the one-size-fits-all clothes I had put aside for my emergence and
kept a hair appointment I had made the previous week in Renee's name. I had my
longish hair cut down to a cute little curly helmet shape. Then I hit the
shops. Using cash drawn from my old accounts and the credit cards, and
borrowed from my bank and against my insurance I spent happy hours
accumulating a basic wardrobe fitted to my new size. That took all morning and
through lunch. Then I dropped by the university to see if my disappearance had
been noted. If not I would make sure it was.

Stuart greeted me and introduced himself. Having to look up at him was more
disorienting than expected, but I was getting used to viewing the world from a
different angle. He was puzzled his assistant had not shown up to work today.
I wanted to destroy his worthless body with my small steel fists for calling
me his assistant. We were colleagues who shared this lab. He made tenure and I
didn't, but I had never reported to him and certainly never assisted him,
particularly in the romantic way he went on to imply. We found the appointment
in my desk calendar that Renee, a friend from the West Coast, was arriving
today, but no explanation for my absence.

I gave my phone number to Stuart and left, after deflecting an offer to meet
for drinks after five. Later at home I got a call from the police regarding my
cousin's disappearance. Of course I could offer no information that was
helpful and was as mystified as everyone else. The police had been given the
suicide note I had mailed to the university, and Stuart had given them my
number. Apparently I was despondent over the tenure thing and was deeply in
debt. Now they were beginning the search for a body.

That evening after dinner I went to a bar. I picked the low sort of place I
would not previously have wished to visit, but tonight I was willing to invite
trouble. Sitting on the stool at the bar I began realizing some of the
obstacles short people face in society. My little legs dangled in air, inches
from the floor. I had dressed somewhat provocatively, showing more cleavage
than I had ever before possessed. I accepted the admiring glances of the men
as I walked around and as I sat. I politely rebuffed the attentions of a
couple men who looked a little more disease-prone than I cared for. Before
anyone more to my liking came along the two stools next to me were occupied by
a couple. They were in mid- argument when they arrived and escalated from
there. When the man became abusive I tapped him on the shoulder and told him
to watch his mouth or take the fight home. He turned to me and told me to mind
my own business. If I were a man, he said, he would give me a thorough lesson
in butting out. I hopped off the stool and told him I doubted he was half man
enough to teach me a thing. If he thought he could prove me wrong I would be
out in the parking lot. Sitting down as he was I was able to reach his face to
give him a parting slap.

He joined me along with half the crowd from the bar. He was a large, heavy set
man a little under six feet tall. Upon seeing my size he hesitated and wanted
to brush off my challenge. I kept egging him on and promising to whip his
sorry ass if he dared turn his back on me. Finally he charged, trying to grab
me and force me to the ground or somehow establish his manliness for our
audience. I used a simple self- defense move to deflect his hand and give his
wrist a twist. That turned his back and I kicked his backside good and hard.
That did it. Now he swung and tried to slap me. I blocked his hand and gave
him a little jab in the ribs that brought him up short. Rubbing the spot he
stepped forward and again escalated his force. Now he swung a fist at my head,
but I caught the blow on my shoulder. His look of pain and shock as his hand
bounced off me was priceless. I gave his ribs another little jab on the other
side that backed him up a couple steps. Suddenly he charged in a rage. I
turned sideways when he reached for me and used his momentum lift him above my
head, only to dump him in a heap at my feet. I stood over him, taunting him as
a weakling and a bully, practically inviting him to make his next move. As if
on cue he threw a punch at my stomach from his position on the ground. For
most of the fight his height made it difficult for him to strike at my torso,
but now he was lower. I smiled as his fist landed against my tensed abdomen
and produced a sound like hammering wood. Now it was my turn to deliver two
quick fists to blacken both eyes and lay him flat on his back. The crowd
around us had started out boisterous but had grown quieter as his efforts
proved futile. I was surrounded by silence as I stepped back.

I suggested the woman he had arrived with gather him up before he got hurt. Of
course that only enraged him further and he came for me again. His fists could
make no dent in my dense muscles, so only my face and breasts were vulnerable
to him. I could easily protect those while waiting for my opening. Finally he
gave me a chance to step inside and really unload against his midsection. My
hammer blows doubled him over, then dropped him to one knee. As he faded I
measured my distance and threw my right fist against his jaw. The condensed
bones of my hand, propelled by the supercharged muscles of my arm, felt like
slugging a bag of loose marbles. He crumpled senseless. I looked around at the
crowd and left them to gather the wreckage while I drove home. Before driving
two blocks ravenous hunger overcame me. I needed to stop at a diner where I
consumed two dinners, with dessert. That answered another question. I might
have a secret energy source inside my tissue, but I needed to fuel myself the
old fashioned way with meat and potatoes. And the fuel had to be in proportion
to my exertion not to my height. I would be eating for an army from now on.

Emerging from the shower back home before turning in, my own image in the
mirror captured me once more. It called to me, dared me to display the body I
had created, to glory in the picture of muscle and strength I had packed into
a five foot form. Again before falling asleep I pleasured myself long and
hard, powerful orgasms beyond the scope of other humans rocked me to sleep.

DAY FOUR

After going for a run in the morning (six minute pace, ten miles) I loitered
about, then went to the lab. Stuart greeted me and was surprised I could talk
intelligently about his work. I mentioned having done similar work with my
friend previously and my hope to find a lab assistant position at the
university that would have allowed me to resume my collaboration with her.
Stuart thought he might find a way to get me on as a lab assistant immediately
despite my lack of a doctorate or any published work. This had seemed to me
like a prudent start. I couldn't manufacture credentials for Renee because
they are too easily checked. I would be starting at the bottom, but with my
past studies and work I knew I could quickly establish myself as an
independent researcher either here or in another laboratory. Then when I began
making my discoveries about energy release and reabsorbtion in muscle tissue I
would have a track record that could be verified. This time I agreed to meet
Stuart after work to talk about job prospects and the mystery of my absent
cousin.

The rest of the day I spent talking with the police, buying food for the
apartment, and just getting used to my new body. In the afternoon I went to a
public swimming pool looking for exercise. With my extreme strength any real
workout in a gym would be sure to draw unwanted attention. I estimated that I
could bench-press about a thousand pounds now, if my bones would support it.
Working out with half that amount would have trainers calling up the record
books before I was warmed up. So I tried swimming. My density was still
considerably more than before my treatment but now my strength was vastly
increased from my when I swam on my first day out. Of course my body drew some
stares as I walked to the pool from the lockerroom, but I was able to ignore
them. Relaxed my new body is quite muscular but not too far out of line with
any strong woman my size. I entered the pool cautiously and started out slowly
swimming laps. I found it was easier than my first night due to increased
strength, but still a challenge to keep my head above water and myself moving
forward. Good, a workout was the whole point. The resistance of the water
increased with my speed, so the faster I tried going the more I needed to
work. I found that an hour of swimming gave me a good total body workout.
Afterward I was again starving and ate enough for at least two people.

I met Stuart at six in a little lounge near campus. He immediately removed his
sport coat to show how big his arms were in the polo shirt he wore beneath. He
was quite casual doing little flexes as if they were inadvertent. I wore a
loose blouse open three buttons and did a little showing off myself. We
discussed his research work some, and it seemed as run of the mill as I had
expected until he announced his growth machine the year before. He told me I
could show up the next day to begin work in the lab, straightening up my own
old notes and papers. I made an excuse after an hour and left with the promise
that we would do this again soon.

After dinner I hunted up a sex shop in a shabby part of town. My sensuous
ideas were all directed at myself for now and I wanted to get some toys to
heighten the pleasure. I had left my old vibrator behind as part of the
previous life. As I was walking away from the shop with my new vibrator and
other accessories, a large Hispanic-looking tough and his skinny Anglo
companion blocked my path. He wasn't tall but looked 250 pounds worth of wide,
and very solid. With some pretty transparent stories they "lured" me into an
alley. The big guy had to prove his manliness by attacking a small woman. He
goaded his pal into taking the first crack at me. Clearly they both had rape
on the mind and the skinny guy would not be allowed to go first when that time
came. That only made him nastier. As we squared off the Hispanic man pulled
off his shirt to show his broad muscular torso, covered in crude tattoos. He
told me to make it easy on myself and all this could be mine. My response was
to pull my own shirt off over my head and tense my upper body. As I said, my
physique was large and impressive but came nowhere near reflecting my true
strength. Still, as I tensed my body my hard muscles forced to the surface
every vein and artery lying near the skin. My skinny opponent didn't look
quite so confident as he suddenly came at me. He threw one punch, a right
cross that I caught with my own right hand. Then I stepped in close and
hammered piston-like punches up his side. My four blows cracked as many ribs
before either man realized what had happened. I shifted my grip from his hand
to the wrist and squeezed until I heard and felt bone give way. As he started
to sag to his knees I told him to stay conscious because in a moment he would
need to call an ambulance for his friend who would be in worse shape. Then I
gave his face a slap that flattened his nose.

The big Latino came at me throwing punches that I either deflected or allowed
to bounce off. Then he threw an uppercut into my stomach that hurt him much
more than it did me. I instantly countered with a belly punch of my own,
putting all my power behind it. My blow lifted him off the ground and dropped
him on his back three feet away. My small fist had crushed the abdominal
muscles it hit, leaving a noticeable crater over his stomach. As the big one
began passing up blood from internal injuries I told his still-conscious
companion it was time for him to call the ambulance.

I dressed and gathered up my bag again. I needed to stop for a large meal on
the way home and considered the spiral of violence I seemed to be getting
myself into. The redneck in the bar had been more a test than anything else. I
hadn't felt anything personal against him but mainly wanted to see if I could
be as dangerous as I suspected. The two tonight were self- defense, if you
didn't think too hard about my alternatives for avoiding trouble all together.
Part of my reason for starting my life over was to have more fun; becoming
strong was purely a fringe benefit. Now I was finding my strength dominating
the other aspects of my life and leaving me with nothing but an enormous
appetite and a raging case of narcissism. I had consciously restrained myself
in the alley to keep from killing both men in slow motion, one broken bone at
a time. Instead the whole thing took about twenty seconds.

These thoughts hung heavily in my mind as I returned to my apartment. I walked
through the living room to the little balcony overlooking the street where I
stood gazing at the traffic and the night sky. In a couple of minutes I
realized I had been working my hands against the metal railing and had
unconsciously bent it. Immediately I ran my left hand over my right arm as I
pushed against the railing, smiling to feel the hard ropes crawl and knot as
weak metal yielded to me.

I ran back into the apartment looking for anything else to test myself
against. I tossed the mattress and springs off my bed to get at the steel
frame beneath. Stripping nude in front of my big mirror I passed one of the
bed rails across my shoulders and pulled, bending the metal into a hairpin
shape. My muscles tensed and bulged at the effort, and I made them bulge
further just for effect as I watched. Then I repeated the display with the
doubled steel, ending up with a bedrail folded into quarters. I set one end on
the floor and watched myself bend it further with arm strength alone, one arm
pushing against the middle of the steel mass while the other arm pulled with
all my vast power. Standing before the mirror I flexed my pumped arms and
smiled at the great balls that rolled and pulsed beneath my skin. I turned and
looked over my shoulder as I flexed my back. The next rail I bent so I could
watch my back muscles conquer it, the metal no match for me. The next hour was
lost in my muscle lust until my bed frame was just a heap of torn and twisted
metal. One last time I posed for myself, tensing my muscles as I had for my
victims in the alley. Great carved muscle exploded over my sweating body,
veins crawled up my arms and lower legs. My back practically crackled with
strength when I flexed it wide. Those thugs should have been happy to pay my
price for the chance to see a body like this. I gave myself a long series of
rewards on top of my mattress where I had tossed it.

DAY FIVE

After a morning swim and two breakfasts I went to the University to get signed
up as a new temporary employee in the biology lab. Stuart greeted me warmly
and gave me a tour of my old workspace. He passed quickly over his growth
machine, saying it wasn't panning out as he had hoped. I noticed he had made
some modifications since the weekend, but my curiosity about them would have
to wait until I had been in the lab longer. Stuart said he might scrap the
whole device as a pointless exercise in bio- physics which nobody really
understood. I asked a couple of innocent questions about any changes in energy
levels or energy release he might have observed. He became a bit defensive so
I decided it was not something he had noticed in his work on growth.

This orientation took us through lunch. Stuart went to workout while I went to
one of my usual spots and ate twice my usual meal. Walking back I paused at a
school playground to watch the children on the monkey bars. Their happy
exertions struck a chord within me. I had always been too tall to do much with
gymnastics, but now my size and power cried out for that sort of play. I
looked at my soft palms and decided to buy some leather gloves, then find a
playground my own size to test myself on.

Back in the lab I started reviewing my old notebooks and started some new logs
on the observed energy releases from my compression experiments. Anything
dated after my disappearance was carefully entered in a different handwriting
style. The details of the modifications to Stuart's growth machine went into a
separate notebook kept under lock and key. At the end of the day I took a
complete set of measurements on all the experimental animals that had been
condensed. They all remained healthy, the strong ones showed no side effects
other than their increased vitality. Stuart confessed ignorance about the
nature of their treatment and didn't notice they were somewhat smaller than
average.

We quit at five-thirty and Stuart again asked me out for a drink. This time he
took me to a fancier spot in town than we had visited before. He went through
the same mating dance of showing off his biceps for this little newcomer. From
the lounge we moved on to dinner and then to his apartment. He lived in the
sort of singles complex I had always expected he did. We had never mixed
socially and being the focus of his attention since reaching my new size was
changing none of my previous impressions. By then I had had at least four
glasses of wine which seemed to be affecting me as much as wine ever has. I
was becoming a little giddy as he let me in his door, then hurried into the
kitchen to get more wine to push me further in the direction his mind was
heading. I followed him in and offered to pour if he wanted to put on some
music. I amused myself while rummaging in his fridge by tightening bottle and
jar lids past where I thought he could open them again.

We sat for a while on his couch making small talk as he slipped his arm across
my shoulders and pulled me in tight. He enjoyed playing the tough guy on a
date. By now the evening was rolling along an entirely predictable track with
the only question being how long I let it roll before his fantasies collided
with my hard reality. Stuart wasn't a bad looking man, to be fair. If he were
just picking me up as a stranger I might have been flattered by the attention.
But however unfairly, he represented a huge disappointment in my life that I
wasn't ready to forget or forgive.

Stuart mentioned how firm my arms felt where he held me. He asked me to arm
wrestle him so he could judge how fit I was. Feigning reluctance I agreed, but
warned him I might be stronger than I looked. Under influence of the wine
Stuart slipped off his shirt so I could get a good view of his physique while
he tested himself against a five foot tall woman. He kept his chest shaved as
hairless as my own, which is not really a look I like on grown men, but his
muscles were quite attractive. He flexed and asked me to feel his biceps. I
ran my hand over it, then gripped as much of his upper arm as my little hand
allowed and gave a squeeze. A look of pain and surprise came over his face as
if I had touched him with a hot poker. It was just a quick squeeze as if
testing how hard the hardbody really was, but of course I crushed his biceps.

We locked hands and he started pushing against my immovable arm. He started
out acting nonchalant about the contest, then changed from surprised to
determined to desperate. To give him credit, he did seem stronger than I
remembered from our previous match months before when he beat me. After about
two minutes of full exertion he began making pathetic little gasping noises
and started turning an unhealthy shade of purple, so I pushed his arm slowly
to the table and held it there as I looked into his eyes with a half smile on
my face.

I quickly apologized if I had hurt him, then stood to refill his wine glass as
a peace offering. Stuart jumped up and caught me from behind. It took him a
moment to adjust for my weight as he lifted and swung me to the floor.

"How did you do that?" he asked, pointlessly. "You're such a tiny thing, but
you made it look easy to bend my arm down."

"I'm just an ordinary woman," I said calmly as he pinned my shoulders to the
floor. "Surely this isn't the first time a woman has done this."

"Bull shit. No woman can be that strong. It was a trick."

"I'm not nearly as strong as my friend. You must have realized she was much
stronger than you during all the time you shared a lab."

"No way. I beat her. She was just a tall freak, not strong at all," he told me
between clenched teeth.

"I guess that's what she wanted to you to think. I know I didn't stand a
chance against her," and with that I grasped his wrists, pushed them off my
shoulders and sat up quickly enough to buck him off me. As he sat astonished
on the floor I went to the kitchen.

Stuart got naked while I was out of the room refilling our wine glasses. He
was sort of flexing his chest and pacing the room when I came back. "I know
what your game is. She put you up to this. I never believed that suicide
story. She was spying on me in the lab, trying to get the secret to my growth
machine. Now she's sent you here to get my secrets. It's too late. I've
already augmented my muscle strength and soon I'll add mass to my skeleton. In
a week my mother won't recognize me. I'll be over six feet tall and stronger
than any normal man. I already have the strength, and my growth machine will
take me to the size I was always meant to be. You pulled some trick to make me
seem weak, but I'll show you how much stronger than you I am."

Testing strength with a naked man in his own living room struck me as one of
my oddest dates ever, but I played along. Even after a few glasses of wine I
was picking up his message that he planned to use his growth machine on
himself and had anticipated the problems I foresaw with just increasing the
same mass over more volume. It seemed Stuart was off his rocker and needed
someone - me - to get him under control.

"So tell me. Where did you get the energy source to augment your strength?" I
asked, genuinely curious.

"I took it. Some people don't deserve the lifeforce inside them, while I
deserve the body of a super hero to match my intellect. I took what I needed
and threw away their empty shells. If your friend hadn't disappeared when she
did, she would have donated to my cause as well," he gloated. "When I crush
you, you can make her contribution for her." With that he drained his glass
and squared off in front of me in a wrestler's crouch.

Stuart had mentioned more than once that he was a college wrestler, which made
me curious about matching my greater strength against someone with training
and technique. He dived for my legs, but I prevented him from gathering them
together for a lift, then just pushed his face down to the floor at my feet.
After I stepped back he jumped in again, this time seizing me around the
waist. Before he could lift or throw me, I grabbed his wrists and removed them
from around me and just held his arms out from my side before pushing him
backwards. He tried several more approaches that I could thwart just by
standing tensed in one spot. He found me immovable and quick enough to adjust
to any attack he mounted. I gave him an arm that he tried unsuccessfully to
twist behind my back. I offered a leg that he couldn't budge off the floor.
When he tried putting me in a headlock I dutifully bent down, then grabbed his
ankle with one hand and his armpit with the other and lifted him over my head.
I held him helplessly aloft for a moment, then tossed him across the room onto
the couch. He bounced onto the floor with a bit of a crash, making the first
noticeable racket of this entire farce.

He rose with real anger in his eyes, forgetting he had been the aggressor in
this little game. When I suggested this would be a good time to stop before
somebody got hurt he made a real attack, going for my throat and tearing my
blouse. "That's it", I told him. "Time you learned some manners." Knocking his
hands off my throat I delivered an open hand slap that sat him on the floor
with angry red finger marks on his cheek.

"You silly little man. You don't have half the strength to challenge me. Your
pathetic body is soft, weak. Now I'm going to crush you and leave you for the
police to take care of," I spat at him as I began undressing.

I stood naked before him, my short, broad body solid but relaxed. Suddenly I
tensed every muscle and watched the shock in his eyes as each steel fiber came
to life, inflating my physique, trying to burst out of my skin. I flexed my
right arm and couldn't help feel longing and pride as the hard ball leaped up.
"Go ahead. Feel this so you'll know what real muscle is like."

He approached slowly and reached for my arm. He gripped my biceps and
squeezed, first with one hand and then with both wrapped as far around my arm
as he could reach. His hands made no impression on my rock solid flesh. He
moved his hands up to my shoulder, my neck and down the layered muscles of my
back and side. Since creating my new body no hands but my own had touched me
in this manner. Feeling his hands move gently over my body excited me. I
tensed my abdomen and dared him to hit me, the wall of muscle rippling under
my skin and suggesting granite boulders lay hidden beneath. The cruel smile
that briefly appeared on his face was immediately replaced by a look of pain
and surprise when he saw me still standing after taking his best punch, while
his own fist sent ringing pain up his arm. For my own part, he did knock me
backwards a foot, a harder blow by far than I absorbed in my fights of the
past few nights. It stung and made me gasp briefly to catch my breath. I
hadn't just imagined it: Stuart really was stronger than normal men now. He
could have no more free shots.

I held out my hands for him to clasp in a classic test of strength. He jumped
at the chance and rose to his full height to get an advantage over me. I held
him as he pushed, trying to force my wrists over, and then I took the
offensive. I pressed up against his grip, forced his hands backward and down,
driving him to his knees. Tears of pain and frustration welled in his eyes as
I bore down, but he surprised me by sweeping my feet from under me with his
leg. I landed hard and lost my grip. In an instant he leaped away. I got up
quickly and reached for him. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me over his
shoulder in a neat judo flip. He tried to follow up by driving a knee into my
face but I blocked it and sent him sprawling. Again he was up quickly and out
of reach.

I got up more slowly. Gradually my situation was dawning on me through the fog
of wine. I had stripped naked in the apartment of a man who had already said
he planned to kill me or somehow suck out my life. My combat training
consisted of a two night rape-proofing class that showed a couple of wrist
holds and obvious places to kick and punch. I knew how to throw a punch as
long as the other person stood still, but Stuart showed no intention of
standing still. He was a trained fighter and twice as strong as a normal man.
The two fights I had been in at my miniature size went easily because my
opponents didn't suspect my power and had charged in. Stuart had learned not
to charge me and I had been bragging about my strength advantage. Now he was
prepared to force me to make a mistake and finish me for good.

If he didn't know the extent of my strength or its source he had to be
curious. I decided to play on that to see if it would show a way out of my
fix. I turned my back on Stuart and walked across the room to where I had set
my wine glass. I took a sip and smiled across at him. "We could just call a
truce and combine forces. You have your source of strength and I have mine. We
might be able to serve both our needs without either of us getting hurt."

That seemed to spark some interest. I spilled a little of the wine down my
front and rubbed it over my breasts with my best fashion model expression of
ecstasy. I put his couch back upright and sprawled on it. He was looking more
interested by the moment and his cock was beginning to stir to life as well.
He came slowly across the floor and stood just out of reach. "What did you
have in mind? How can you be so strong without using some kind of growth
process?"

Smiling and arching my back to him I said, "My family is naturally strong. I
told you my cousin was even more powerful than I. All the women have the
strength of many mere men. That was why she became interested in biology. She
was getting close to distilling the secret when she dropped out of sight.
Maybe we could work together to find her notes. You say you have the strength
of two ordinary men. Together we might multiply that when you go through your
process. I know I always look for ways to get an advantage over the rest of my
family. Why don't you sit down and we can work something out." I held my glass
out to him and laid back further on the couch.

Stuart took the glass drank it dry and let it drop with a crash. Then he sat
near me. He stayed a little back and above me as I gave him my impression of a
smoldering stare. "Cousins, huh. I thought I saw a resemblance," he said a
little hoarsely after a pause. "She was kind of attractive in a string bean
sort of way. I kind of hope she didn't do herself in. It might be fun getting
to know her better when we see eye to eye, so to speak. Unless you have any
better ideas."

Stuart was sliding back into his macho seducer role, but was still being
cautious in his approach. Moving slowly I reached out and ran a hand down his
arm and slid down almost horizontal. He followed, his cock fully erect by now.
I rubbed my leg against his and looked up at him. "I've got a much better idea
that doesn't have anything to do with her."

"And how do I know this isn't some kind of trick?" Stuart asked, practically
drooling as he bore down upon me.

"Because you'll be on top where you can control what's going on. Because I'll
put my arms behind me, if you like, for the first time -- but I'm going to
want to run my hands over that beautiful body at some point. Because I have as
much to risk as you."

Stuart suddenly took me by my wrists and pushed them under me while he
stretched himself at full length on top of me. I gave no resistance, just
letting him press me down and I even arched my back to press myself against
him and put my hands beneath me. As he started rubbing my breasts and kissing
up and down my chest I tried not to think about circus pictures of people
putting their heads in lion's mouths. Instead I was trying to focus on how
nice it did feel to be caressed this way, how nice it was to have a strong
man's body completely covering my own, how sexy all this was beginning to make
me feel. Some things I can't fake and this was getting pretty steamy and real.

Stuart entered me and began riding me, pushing deeper and deeper. His face got
vacant, his hands got more insistent as they explored as much of my body as he
could reach. As his thrusts gained speed I suddenly clamped myself tightly
around his cock and watched as surprise and then agony swept over his face.
With my hands still behind my back I began grinding my cunt, feeling his
trapped member as he struggled to withdraw. Or go deeper, because it felt like
he was getting turned on even more by the pain. Then he started pushing
against me desperately trying to get out. I sat up so I had my hands free
again and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tight against me as I kept
up my pressure on his imprisoned cock. Stuart was strong enough to lift us
both up by pushing against the back of the couch, but he couldn’t get free of
either grip I had on him. He tried hitting me on the back and shoulders, which
was about all he could reach because I buried my face against his chest. I
nearly let go when he grabbed two handfuls of my hair and seemed about to pull
it out by the roots. Instead I just squeezed harder. He began screaming at
some point, but I quickly choked off all sound except for some wheezing gasps
for air. I felt his ribs begin giving way at the same time I heard them crack.

I pushed him from me but grabbed both his wrists. The bastard had put a hell
of a scare into me and I wanted to repay that with interest. I applied a
crushing grip to his wrists, but he was able to withstand me enough to keep
the bones from breaking. Still, the pain from my grip, from his ribs and from
the chewed up penis that hung limply between his legs again had him near
tears.

Holding his arms above my head I supported his weight in my hands and laughed
at his weak struggles. "Little man, you are beaten. I had my sport with you,
then I had my pleasure. Now I will finish your weak body and deliver you to
the police." He made one attempt to kick me, but I saw it coming and blocked
it with my thigh. I dropped him in a heap. Stuart moaned and gasped for air
when he landed. I began dressing and had my back turned when he somehow found
the strength to lunge at me with the sharp shard of my wine glass. Luckily he
was in such pain he couldn’t move silently. He may have been a killer and an
egomaniac, but Stuart was determined to go down fighting. I obliged by
catching his hand in mid arc and snapping his arm across my thigh.

This time he was through. I finished dressing and called an ambulance for him.
I waited until the medics arrived and told them Stuart had called me following
a car wreck. They told me what hospital he would be taken to, and made it
clear he would need surgery to set his arm and would have to be held at least
one more night. From a pay phone I made an anonymous call to the police
telling them Stuart had gotten drunk in a bar and confessed killing his
colleague and making it look like suicide. I told them in which hospital they
could find him after his drunken accident.

On the way home I figured I had come through the whole thing all right because
I was so gripped by hunger I had to stop and eat again on the way home. As
long as my appetite holds out I must be okay. Arriving home I was able to pass
my mirror image with just a sense of pride and relief rather than muscle lust.
I fell asleep as soon as I climbed onto my mattress.

DAY SIX

After my morning swim and breakfast I went to the lab. For the next few hours
I read Stuart's notebooks and went through his desk. The results sickened me,
but left me in awe of his genius.

After lunch I phoned the police and talked with the detective who had called
about my kidnapping. They had received a tip, she said, but Stuart wasn't
talking, he wasn't admitting anything including his own strength enhancement.
The police couldn’t arrest him without some evidence. I offered to bring in
the notebook in which he detailed where he had buried the remains of two men
he had subjected to his machine, expanding their bodies in such a way that
their muscles gave up the latent energy that he tapped and channeled into his
own body. The effects were not as concentrated as what I had absorbed in my
compression process, but effectively doubled his strength. His victims died in
the process, their bodies inflated and drained of vitality. Stuart was
meticulous in his note taking.

At the police station I suggested that if I talked with Stuart he might open
up about his crimes. The detective agreed. We went to the hospital to visit
Stuart together. I brought a paper cup of coffee into the room and sipped it
as I made some preliminary small talk about what I had seen in his records.
The detective sat off to the side a made a few notes. When I was finished
chatting I drained the cup and asked him if he had known the men would be
killed in the process of his experiment.

"What experiment? I don't know what you are talking about," he said in a level
voice. "I was writing science fiction in the notebook you found. No scientist
in the world would believe. . ." He stopped short as I picked up my empty cup
and slowly crushed it in my fist while staring into his eyes.

"All right", he began again. "I had done some preliminary animal studies that
suggested a chance of harm, but I believed I had overcome all the problems. .
." I picked up the plastic spoon I had used to stir my coffee and deliberately
snapped it in half in front of his face.

Stuart swallowed hard. "Well, I tried to warn them about the possible hazards.
Somewhere in my records I’m sure I can kind the waivers they signed
acknowledging the hazard but saying they were willing to accept. . ." I stood
with my back to the detective and ran my hands down my front, rubbing my
crotch in slow sensual circles, running my tongue slowly over my lips.

He squirmed painfully in bed and a wild expression came over his face. "Keep
her away from me," he cried to the detective. "I'll tell you everything. Yes,
I killed those men. They weren't worth the air they breathed and I could use
them to become the person I deserve to be. Just get her away from me."

As I left the room Stuart was launching into a detailed account of how he
found the men, convinced them to sit under his machine, and how they died.

That night I drove around town until I found a deserted construction site with
some scaffolding and framing for a new high rise building. I put on the
leather work gloves I had brought to protect my hands and spent the next two
hours in the moonlight clambering up and down the metal supports, leaping from
level to level, flinging myself through space to catch a new hold across a
yawning drop. I have never felt more exhilarated. I could move like a squirrel
through the trees, swing like a monkey from my arms alone, race up and down
faster than a person can walk on level ground. For two hours time stood still
for me; all other considerations ceased to matter. This feeling of freedom and
release had been behind my decision to transform myself, to start over. For
the first days after my transformation I behaved like the same person I was
before, denying what I had become and just seeking a slightly different way of
doing the same old things. When at last I climbed down from my playground my
path was clearer before me than it had been in years.

On the way home I stopped at a bar where I simply ate and drank and talked
with the cowboys. I turned down all advances whether clumsy or inviting. I was
getting used to keeping my own company. I liked the people around me, didn’t
feel tempted to prove myself to them or seduce them or let myself be seduced
this evening. Back home I passed my mirror with just a wink and a smile on the
way to my mattress.

DAY SEVEN

After my morning ritual of exercise and eating I went to the lab one last
time. After looking through my own notebooks I began shredding everything
relating to the growth machine and my experiments. I left Renee's notes about
energy release and absorption, but they would stand isolated, without
providing a clue how the reaction could be triggered. The world didn't need
another Stuart taking advantage of these discoveries for the wrong reasons. My
own reasons might be wrong or right, but that threshold was past. Day by day I
would make the most of the new life I had made for myself. My adult life had
been spent in laboratories and classrooms. I still had a good scientific mind,
but compared with my body it was simply one of the pack. Now I would follow my
body where it led me. This path would be lonelier, but it was mine and best
traveled alone.

After my battle with Stuart I realized I would need more training if I thought
I would ever again be forced into a fight. Even avoiding repeats of my first
couple fights, where ever I went next was apt to be a long way from a quiet
campus and clean laboratory. From now on I wanted to be sure I could control
any action I found myself in.

I finished the first week of my new life sorting the few clothes I wanted to
take with me, packing my roadster, and picking a direction on a road map. I
had no plan, I just knew that little Renee had a big world to discover.