What were these girls eating!?

Andrew scanned around the auditorium-style classroom and noticed he could count all the males in the room on one hand: himself. And he was closer to the back of the room too, where the double doors that he entered through were, and where the two hundred or so bucket seats of the room began high then sloped down in a shrinking parabolic cross-section the direction of the descending aisles to the main floor where the center of the room, the teacher's desk and teaching area, was. Andrew was the only male in the room so far, but as the confident muscular girls of Giantess Academy spilled into their class, a sharp feeling of physical inferiority began stabbing at Andrew's mind. Their lean, vascular biceps bulged from their arms, framing the rest of their muscled bodies, as if the entire student body was on the football team. In turning to a girl to his left, Andrew saw that her sleeves of her muscle shirt were stretching over her flexed biceps and that her thick forearms had long skinny veins on them, the kind you have after a long workout. Her body tapered to a relatively tiny but rippling waist which her shirt didn't fully cover. She covered her mouth as she yawned and her flexed bicep began ripping through her sleeve. In doing so, she had accidentally knocked a pencil off her desk.

"I'll--I'll get it," Andrew shot quickly for it.

He held it out to her and she picked the number two from his fingers. "Thanks," she smiled, and then flexed her bicep for him. Ripping the sleeve finally.

Andrew nervously straightened in his desk and tried hard not to blush. A tanned blonde in front of him had rounded muscular shoulders that poked through her baggy sweatshirt. She had accidentally rip through her miniskirt when she sat down. She was trying to hide the tear, putting her hands into it.

Andrew sat back in his chair. He couldn't believe it; every single girl around him was monstrously huge.

Surprisingly, the teacher wasn't as big. She came in to class and was a thin lady dressed in a formal suit. The high heels under her thin legs clicked against the floor as she walked. Her stern face silently scanned the entire room, sizing everything up, her eyes sitting just above the rim of her glasses. Then standing aside her desk she opened her thin lips and began. "Welcome, students. I am Professor Vikki Victoria. Tenured. Welcome to Anatomy and Physiology. Yes, this class is required for every student. Yes, there will be lots of homework and tests, yes, this class is taught in an unusual and different ... fashion, and yes, for those of you from community colleges you would do well to keep your guidance counselors on speed dial." A low murmur of laughter filled the room.

She made no effort to draw things out. "You there. Boy." The class looked at Andrew. Professor Victoria took a step forward and pointed to him then fanned her hand out to her side. "Have you noticed anything... It's not a hard question. Let me give you a hint."

Victoria stepped forward wit her other foot so her feet were together and set her left hand on her hip. "Lisa!" she called out to another student.

"Ma'am!," a very buff brunette way in front answered. She was huge, just like the rest, and had been very feverishly typing down Victoria's words like a scribe.

"Lisa, a simple question dear," Victoria asked, "Are you a girl or a boy?"

Lisa's eyes looked around, looking for the trick somewhere. "A girl?" she answered Victoria uneasily.

"Very good. And how much do you weigh?"

"About three hundred and thirty pounds."

"Well, aren't you a big girl... three hundred and thirty solid pounds, one-fifty in kilograms," She looked at her arms, "and how big are your arms?"

Her biceps had been stretching the tight sleeves of her blouse for some time now. She lowered the screen of her laptop. "Well, I guess that all depends... relaxed or fully flexed?"

Victoria put a hand to her chin. "Relaxed," she said.

"Twenty-four inches. You know... give or take a sixteenth of an inch."

"Twenty-four whole inches?"

"Yep."

"Twenty-four?"

"Twenty-four."

Victoria set both hands akimbo now. "Interesting. And flexed?"

"Thirty-two inches."

"And for those of us who may not know what Thirty-two inches looks like, can you flex it for us?"

Lisa extended her an arm and curled it. It began to stretch the fabric of her shirt until finally, with a rip, her biceps tore through her sleeves like a mountain. Victoria shot her eyes up to Andrew. "Getting my point?"

She walked back towards the front of the class and twirled a about-face halfway. "And, by a show of hands, who here can beat three hundred and thirty pounds, thirty-two inches?" Two hundred and forty-eight hands shot up, each on its own muscular arm connected to a girl. Only two hands remained down, missing from the picture like two holes in a hand collage: Lisa's and Andrew's.

Seemingly one by one, the girls began turning their heads to Andrew on their girthy, bulldog necks, throwing their attention to his flimsy, flesh-and-bone body, as if they were smelling for the first time the fresh meat in the room.

"Listen. This is my class, boy. My world of girl muscle and of pain. And you're unlucky being here, means you're trapped in it, every morning for the next four months. Oh and yes, you should be very scared for yourself right now." She began to come forward, her heels clicking like the seconds of time. "See, every year I load my class with the biggest, best, strongest girls I can find." She placed a finger down on a desk crushing an ant, "And one unlucky boy.

"It's always like dropping small chum to an ocean of sharks. A helpless carcass to a wake of vultures. A tiny krill to a pod of blue whales. And I've kinda taken a liking to seeing it." She flicked the unlucky ant off the desk.

"Ladies!" Victoria called to the class, her eyes over her glasses fixed on Andrew like a bull's eye, "There are two things you won't be needing for the rest of the course. One is your textbook. Return it. Get your money back, or do whatever you want with it. The second--"

All the girls gripped on to their shirts, waiting, "--is your shirt." Instantly, the classroom echoed with the sounds of the girls happily ripping whatever they were formerly wearing off their massive, hulking, linebacker bodies. Victoria stood in the middle of it all, taking in all the brute strength and raw feminine power that was now filling the room.

"Rule #1," Victoria began, "Anatomy and Physiology is about the body, the raw human form."

Andrew's quivering legs like a whistle bolted him out of his seat, straight into the aisle. He was going to get out; he was going to survive. But, smack! He looked up. He had run into a solid, immovable mountain of muscles, a girl who stood akimbo and towering over him, who smiled as she slowly tilted her head down to his level from her giant 6'4' height. Her eyes dared him to move. She forcefully shoved him back, and he stumbled wildly, finding himself captured by two girls, lifted, two tall, muscular twin redheads on either side, one arm each locked in by one twin each, his feet dangling above the floor. They giggled at his futile attempts to escape them, as if his puny body could overtake theirs. Trapped, he squirmed helplessly as the lesson began.

They began by removing his belt and dropping his pants to his feet. They took his shoes and socks; he was left in boxers. "Many A-N-P classes have dummies," Victoria shouted, pointing at Andrew. "There is ours." The giant, shirtless girls gathered around him like a pack of wolves and relieved him of his shirt by ripping it off him, tearing it to shreds, giggling all the way. "We are going to play with him, girls, and learn how his body works." Everywhere a sea of curious hands reached out of nowhere to poke, prod, test, and touch him, the only male specimen in the room. He closed his eyes best he could, squirmed, turned his head this way and that from their hands, while still racked between the indomitable posts that were two bodybuilding, 6'2" girls.

They continued to touch him as if his body was on full display; nothing was off limits to their reach and fingers. "So this is what being small feels like," he heard some girl say. "Weak, real weak," another chimed in from her examination. Before long even his boxers were long gone, and he was more naked than any of them, fully on display for hundreds of bodies a hundred times better looking and stronger than he was. He felt like a breadcrumb dropped onto an ant pile. The two redheads let go and he was immediately hoisted up, riding on top of the sea of muscular girls who all wanted a piece of him. He was pulled this way and yanked that. He struggled to keep himself in one piece through forces that nearly ripped his arm from its socket. He had lost sight of the floor now and was being tumbled around like clothes in a drier; he was too disoriented to find the ceiling. Meanwhile, the girls were having fun, seeing what they could get to and grab. Andrew too, in trying to find something sturdy, fell onto the hard body parts of various girls, from clawing up eight-packs, to balancing on deltoids, anything to make the rollercoaster he was on stop. They enjoyed throwing him up and testing how light he was, fought over who would get to feel what, where, when. A blonde with highlights and blue eyes got a hold of him, easily lifted him clear over her head and tried to bend him backwards. A brunette with splendid dark eyes stole him and put his head between her delicious arms, squeezing him like a ragdoll as he pushed futilely against her deliciously big, hard obliques and ten-pack abs. Another brunette, short-haired, locked him between her absolutely huge legs and powerful, vice-like inner thighs, powerfully squeezing him until the blonde with highlights ripped him out. She cradled him like a baby before he was stolen from her again.

Then, all of a sudden, Professor Victoria appeared in the mass, found Andrew, gripped his member, and pulled him back to his place on his feet, stopping the frenzy. The crowd of girl muscle quieted down. Victoria held him down there firmly, stiff-armed, unashamed, and, still dizzy, disoriented and in pain, he throbbed erect in her fingers. She opened her hand and looked down. A look of surprise filled her face confirming what she felt. "Hmph," she said, looking up to his face, "maybe I didn't make a bad pick this time after all." She looked around at the sea of now fully horny girls. "And, ladies, I do believe that's about all for today," she said. The girls all wined as they turned from massive fronts to even more massively muscle-marbled backs that filed away to find their clothes. Andrew now was regaining his bearings. Victoria quickly let go of his member, letting it drop. "You," she said, the girls around Andrew looking hungrily at him as they filed past. She wiped the front of her hand on his bare chest, then the back. "Now, come with me." And turned around and led the way.