Mighty Morphin' Amazon Cheerleaders

Lingster — Wed, 25 Jun 1997 07:00:00 +0000

================ T R A C E Y ' S D I A R Y =====================

October 12, 1996

Dear Diary,

I haven't been writing to you for very long, but I have a story I need
to tell you. Putting it all down on paper isn't the smart thing to do,
but I feel a tremendous compulsion to write it. I just can't help
myself. Maybe I should've eaten more of the "Smart Powder".

Over the last few weeks, I've told you about my friends Karen and Mary
Margaret. Our lives have changed so much over the last year, It's hard
to believe we're just barely old enough to drive! But if you think
that's hard to believe, well, this story will blow your mind.

I rarely see my two friends anymore, except on television. Mary
Margaret just got a role on "Beach Watch" after half a season as the
letter-turner on "Wheel of Luck". Everybody's calling her
"Maggie Mams". Karen's also on TV, using the name "Tittania" (sic) on
"American Centurions". I took the happy middle, crowned last May as
Miss Fitness North America, and just finished my encore "Playbob"
Pictorial and first "Sports Illuminated - Swimsuit Edition".

But you know all that already.

None of the tabloid reporters seem to have picked up on the fact that
the three most amazingly developed 17-year-old girls in America are all
from the same town in New Jersey - not yet, anyway. Sooner or later
they will, though, and then the shit'll hit the fan. The Water & Sewer
Department will be selling the tap water for 20 bucks a gallon, probably.

It all started in June of last year (1995), at the beginning of summer
cheerleading practice. Karen, Mary Margaret and I were, amazingly
enough, the three smallest, scrawniest, and puniest girls on the
cheerleading squad (Karen most of all - though at least she had largish
breasts!). Our cheerleading coach, Mrs. Armstrong, wanted the squad to
perform a four-level pyramid at the Homecoming Football game in October.
There was a problem, however, in that three of our biggest girls had just
graduated. We still had Carla, who'd been a gymnast until she'd had a
growth spurt. She had big muscles for a teenage girl (or so they seemed
at the time), and at 5'8" she was pretty tall, but there was only one of
her. What we needed were four strong girls for the bottom row, three
fairly robust ones for the row above that, and then three waifs for the
top two rows. Waifs we had aplenty, mes petites and I were well aware of
that, but of amazons we had only one. And let me tell you, Karen, Maggie
and I were getting pretty tired of being dropped by the weaklings (though
not so weak as we three) below.

Karen suggested that we go out bicycling on the weekend coming up, and
Maggie and I agreed. Maggie and I both knew that Karen was on the
rebound from breaking up with her boyfriend (he'd gotten a little rough
with her on their last date), so we agreed. Normally Karen went out
mountain biking alone, but it was reasonable to see why she might want
company.

One Hundred Fifty years of railroad consolidations, dear Diary, have
left Central Jersey ideal for bicycling. Abandoned rail beds criss-cross
the state, and Karen suggested a route that would take us about 30 miles
north on an old spur that runs up through farm country in the general
direction of New Brunswick.

We enjoyed a nice slow ride, but I couldn't help but feel that Karen was
up to something. When Karen said we'd reached our half-way point, we
got off our bicycles and had our lunch.

As we ate, Karen told us a little bit about the clearing we were in. Up
ahead about a half mile, she said, another rail line had once crossed
this one. A small town, now long gone, had sprang up to handle the cargo
transfer. The town hung on for a while, under the name "Coolieville" -
so named because of the large number of Chinese immigrants who remained
after the railroad left. There was a circle of mystics who also lived
here - some Chinese, some of European and African ancestry - and they
studied Oriental mysticism and the properties of herbs and rare minerals
on a person's "chi". When Mary Margaret asked what a "chi" was, Karen
explained that it was like a person's soul or essence. I asked what had
happened to the town, and she said she wasn't precisely sure - there had
been a fire. I started to ask her how she knew so much about the mystics
but not about the fire, but she shushed me and stood up.

I knew she was up to something, but what happened next surprised me.

Karen stood up and took off her windbreaker. Then she took off her
sweatshirt. Her T-shirt was next. And then she reached behind her back,
unclasped her brassiere and let us bask in her glory. Now I'm no
lesbian, but those were some nice breasts, let me tell you. As big as
they were, on a slender girl who didn't quite top the 5-foot mark, well,
they were spectacular. Then she arched her back, raised her arms
straight out from her shoulders and said, "C-Cups."

I could hear Maggie breathing heavily, almost lustfully, next to me.
Getting over my initial shock, I said, "So you've got bigger breasts
than us, Karen, what's the point, what are you doing!?"

This isn't verbatim, but it's pretty close to what she said:

"I don't just have *bigger* breasts than you, Tracy. You two have no
breasts at all. My breasts started growing last summer, right? By
September I was on the varsity squad and by October I was the Sophomore
Class Homecoming Queen. And that's not all. I improved my SAT scores
by 300 points from the first time I took them in November, and the
second time in February. Growing breasts is one thing, but didn't you
wonder how I got so much smarter? How I went from good student to class
genius? Flat to fabulous? Scrawny to spectacular? Both times in just
three months?"

"Dumb luck?", I responded.

She put her clothes back on, smiled, and said, "Wouldn't you like to
know?", and started running like hell for the edge of the clearing.
Maggie and I, of course, got up and ran after her.

As we came around a bend in the deer trace Karen had run down, we saw
and heard an old iron cellar door slam shut about 10 yards off into the
woods.

We walked over to the door and lifted it up. Mostly corroded away, it
wasn't very heavy. There were winding steps leading down, two
flashlights on the top step, and a note that said "Follow the Steps to
the NEW YOU!" I could hear footsteps far below, echoing eerily. For
the first time I realized we were standing in the middle of what must've
been the first floor of a house, long ago burned to the ground.

"C'mon Chickens!", I heard faintly from below. Picking up a flashlight
and smirking at Maggie I said, "Well, let's go."

We took our time getting down there. I counted the steps, they were
each about 9 inches high. We finally hit bottom after about 300 steps.
"How far underground are we?", Mary Margaret asked. "About 225 feet
down." I responded. "Shit," was her measured response.

I shined the light around, Diary, and realized we were in a vaulted
room, about 40 feet by 60. We found a freight elevator near the
stairway, but debris was blocking the shaft.

We called out for Karen, but there was no response, so we began walking
towards the only door, in the middle of the far wall. Karen had left us
pretty good flashlights, but try and imagine, Diary, how black and dark
this room was, more than 20 stories underground. It was damp, smelly,
and cold, too. And I was scared shitless.

When we were only a few steps from the door, it flew open! Karen came
flying through and sprawled on the floor, coughing and shrieking in pain.
"My...BRA!! Get it!!! OFF!!!" She screamed. I bent down, and reaching
up her back, moved to unclasp her brassiere. Once I had the flashlight
on it, I could see there was blood all over Karen's bra, and cuts in her
sides where the bra had dug in. I pulled the bloody thing off, to
Karen's obvious relief.

"What happened? Did you get it caught on something?", I asked.

"No," Karen panted weakly, and then she started to get up. She was
still in obvious pain, but nonetheless wearing a shit-eating grin. I
couldn't figure it out for a second, but then it registered. "You're as
tall as me!", I shouted.

"And getting taller by the minute," she replied.

"I thought you said it took about three months to work," I asked.

She replied, "Yes, but you get about 25% of the change in the first few
minutes."

I almost shrieked. "Twenty-five percent!? But you're three, no, FOUR
inches taller *already*! In three months you'll be six and a half feet
tall!"

Maggie was just catching on. "Wait, Karen, you found something down
here that makes you TALLER, too?"

"Well, yes, I have. But that's not what I ingested," Karen explained.

I asked her what she had ingested, and she pulled a slip of paper out of
her pocket and handed it to me. I played the beam of my light on it and
read, with difficulty, "For the purpose of turning a weakling into a
True Man."

I shined my light back at Karen, but she was once again taking her
clothes off. "You're turning yourself into a MAN!?", I screamed. (I
was doing a LOT of screaming, now that I think about it.)

"No, no," she said, "The formula only increases size and strength. It
won't make me hairy or grow a penis - in fact it should *enhance* my, uh,
feminine characteristics. More (gasp) robust."

She had stripped down to her bloody T-shirt, and I could see she was
right. Her breasts were easily 50% larger than they'd been in the
clearing 15 minutes earlier. Karen seemed to have stopped getting
taller, maybe at 5'4", (4 1/2 inches taller than she'd been), but her
breasts were still... inflating. Before my eyes. Enthusiastically! I
had never seen anything like it. The seams on her breast pocket began
to pop as the fabric stretched further than had ever been intended.
Karen was gasping ecstatically, and it seemed that each shuddering gasp
that came out of her mouth caused an explosion in the size of her
already-enormous breasts.

Karen was breathing heavily as she reached up, grabbed the collar of her
shirt and, with startling strength, ripped it off. As she did it, I
noticed bulging cords of muscle along the top of her forearm. Her
pumpkin-sized breasts bounced out of the shredded T-shirt, constrained
only by her rock-solid arms. While she was oblivious to her growing
muscles as she massaged her naked breasts, I watched as her biceps grew
larger and thicker each time she tensed them to press her hands into her
chest.

Maggie, unlike me, was absorbed in Karen's breasts. All of a sudden,
Maggie screamed, "Where is it!? I want big breasts!! I WANT TITS!!!,"
and began to run towards the door. I reached for her, but she pulled
free. Karen grabbed Maggie by the back of her sweatshirt, easily pulling
her back, delightedly noticing her own swollen arm muscles and increased
strength for the first time.

Effortlessly restraining Mary Margaret with her left arm, Karen flexed
her right bicep and said, "This, THIS is what it feels like to be STRONG.
My God, I'm SO STRONG. Look at these MUSCLES, they're HUGE. I'M huge,
and strong, strong like a man. It's incredible, I feel.....I feel sooooo
HARD, sooo SOLID." She grabbed Maggie beneath the armpits and lifted her
into the air, spinning around and laughing hysterically, screaming
"TWENTY FIVE FUCKING PERCENT!!", a super-human, huge-breasted, lunatic
muscle girl in the darkness.

Karen insisted we help her test her new strength before going to look
through the potions and powders in the back. Arm wrestling her on the
floor, Maggie and I finally managed to restrain her right arm when we
both grabbed it, Maggie pulling and me pushing. But restrain her was all
we were able to do. Karen kept her arm straight up. Her right arm alone
had grown as strong as me and Maggie put together!! I didn't say
anything then, but I knew that there weren't many boys we went to school
with as strong as THAT.

I was thinking, "How much of the strength increaser stuff did she eat?
And will she really wind up FOUR times stronger than she is now?"

Finally, though, Karen acquiesced and said, "OK, now it's time for you
little ladies to grow a bit."

Oh, Diary! I've run out of time! I'll tell you the rest later.

Love,

Tracy

================T R A C E Y ' S D I A R Y=====================

November 5, 1996

Dear Diary,

Where did I leave off? Oh, I remember: Karen had ingested a mystical
Chinese powder that caused her to grow about 4 1/2 inches in height, add
about 20 pounds of muscle, and turn her perky C-cups into pumpkin-sized
mams within the course of about 10 minutes. It would, she explained,
also cause a steady increase in her height and muscularity over the
course of the next three months, eventually causing her to stand about
6'6", and have four times the strength she currently possessed, and her
strength had easily increased five- or ten-fold over the last few
minutes. She had been the smallest, weakest girl on the varsity
cheerleading squad before taking the powder, but suddenly she was as
strong as the biggest boys on the football team.

And now she wanted Mary Margaret and me to partake of our choice of the
warehouse of mystical powders & potions that stood on the far side of
the wall.

On earlier trips, Karen told us, she had eaten substances that, first,
had turned her breastless, shapeless figure into the sexy, curvaceous
form that she had worn for the last year, up until taking the muscle
treatment a few minutes earlier. Later, she had returned to the site
after receiving disappointing SAT scores, taking an intelligence
increasing substance that had boosted her from 1140 to 1470 in just
three months.

I was reluctant. Sure it had excited me - looking at Karen excited me -
big muscles, big breasts, she had gone from being shoulder high to me
and Mary Margaret to being about an inch taller in a quarter hour! That
thrilled me, I can't deny it.

Some things are easier for boys, and other things are easier for girls.
But it's obvious that a lot of the things that are easier for boys are
physical things. I walked to school, and every morning I dragged the
enormous weight of my books, and every afternoon I hauled them home.
But boys practically skip to school, the weight doesn't bother them.
Boys get to wrestle and play football, they're so strong and sturdy.
They toss each other around like rag dolls and rarely get hurt.

My mouth was dry with desire, *I* wanted to be strong, But I couldn't do
it. I was a varsity cheerleader, like Karen and Mary Margaret, but
unlike them, my boyfriend Richard wasn't a football player. He was
captain of the chess team, and we'd made love and wrestled enough for me
to know that he wasn't a whole lot stronger than me. Worse, I really
loved him, and I still do. But I was pretty sure that if I started
growing bigger & stronger muscles than his, Richard would beat a hasty
retreat.

All this went through my head as Karen grabbed me by my elbow, threw
Maggie over her shoulder, and dragged us both into the room where the
mystics had stored their wares.

Karen had rigged the room with about 5 battery-powered lanterns, so it
was bright enough to see the room in its entirety. I say this without
reservation: it was a weird looking place. It looked like a library
with all its shelves, but about half of the shelf space was dedicated to
lab equipment rather than books. There was a table/workbench off to one
side of the room, and there were three mason jars sitting on it beside a
lantern.

We walked over to the table, and Karen began to explain what the jars
were. This one, she said pointing to the open jar, was the strength and
muscle building powder; she smiled and flexed her baseball-sized bicep.
The other two were for breast enlargement and intelligence enhancement.

Maggie lunged for the breast enlargement jar, but Karen grabbed it first.
"Mary Margaret! Behave yourself or I'll kick your ass! If you take too
much of this, you'll die. When I enlarged my tits, I took four
tablespoons worth, precisely the recommended dosage. It took me from A
to C. You're so hungry for tits, I'll let you have 6 tablespoons worth,
that should get you to a, (let me do the math....) about a DD cup."

Mary Margaret said that that would be alright, and accepted her dose
without further complaint. After she had taken it, Karen also suggested
that she take a tablespoon each of the intelligence and strength
increasers, just to make her system sturdier. Maggie seemed a little
reluctant to develop muscles, but Karen reassured her, saying, "I took
ten tablespoons of it, if you only take one, nobody will even notice the
muscles you'll grow unless you flex. Besides," she said, turning her
back to us, "look what it does for your ass!" Karen's ass really had
become remarkably sexy, and the sight of it seemed to alleviate Maggie's
concerns; she swallowed the two tablespoons.

Karen called me over to take my medicine, but I told her I'd rather wait
to see what happened with Maggie first, she smiled, and said, "OK."

We didn't have to wait long.

Suddenly, Mary Margaret grunted. I said, "Maggie, are you alright?"
She said that she was, and in a minute we could see she was becoming a
lot better than "alright".

Maggie and I had, since elementary school, maintained what amounted to
one wardrobe. We were nearly the exact same size. As I watched Maggie
begin to grow, I realized that those days were gone.

Since she' d taken it first, the breast enlargement formula was the
first to kick in. As I came to realize, it wasn't STRICTLY a breast
enlarger. The label on the jar said, "To enhance a lady's comeliness
and fertility."

Maggie's bustline surged outward even as her ass began to fill in. It
was like watching a well-developed young girl go through puberty in
fast-forward. Twin orbs of flesh began to define themselves under
Maggie's T-shirt, extending forward even as their edges spread towards
each other and her armpits. Within a minute or so, her breasts reached
each other and began to push forward with greater speed. Her shirt began
to pull outward even as her neckline was dragged down, eventually coming
to reveal generous cleavage near the point of the v-neck. Her
development abruptly stopped. She was still precisely the same height as
me, and her arms were still slim and shapeless, so I knew there was more
to come.

Maggie began to tease her own breasts, clearly delighting in the weight
and softness of them. The 25% spurt had left her nearly as shapely as
Karen had been after her three months, so I knew that Maggie would be
filling out quite impressively over the next 90 days. Suddenly a tremor
flashed through her body, and I could tell the second two powders had
kicked in.

Maggie's breasts surged outward yet again, both from their second spurt
and the sudden kick of development in the pectoral muscles beneath them.
I saw her shoulders bulge out slightly, her calves and thighs and ass
become more muscular. I was getting excited again, just as she began to
grow taller. It took another minute or so for her to increase about an
inch in height. When it was over, 5'3", A-Cup, 97 pound Maggie had been
transformed into a 5'4", borderline D-Cup, 115 pound bombshell.

Maggie seemed enwrapped in watching her ample bosom jiggle as she took
deep breaths. I, however, was more interested in finding out how strong
and muscular she'd become. Her arms had an athletic shapeliness about
them, they looked very sexy, but I wanted to see how big they'd swell
when flexed.

"Mary Margaret," I said, "flex your arms." She looked at me, her
attention drifting from her swollen bustline for the first time,
"My...arms?"

Complying, I saw a small, round bicep come to attention, where none had
been before. I walked over, reached up (I felt so short!), and grabbed
it. It wasn't very big, but it was rock-hard. Maggie was a lot stronger
than she looked, I decided - probably nearly as strong as Richard.

Moment of truth. I wanted to be built - to have bulging muscles and
heaving breasts, as strong or stronger than the men I knew. But that
would mean losing Richard, I was sure, and Richard was my life and my
love! I wanted to marry him. If only he wasn't so puny, if only I
could give some of the muscle powder to HIM, but I was sure Karen
wouldn't allow that.

With my left hand I reached across my flat chest and grabbed my right
upper arm. My hand fit all the way around, and when I flexed my bicep
there was hardly any change in size, and it wasn't quite as hard as a
marshmallow.

I looked at the two strong, well-developed girls in the lab with me. In
three months, Maggie would be 5'7" with an athlete's muscles and a
stripper's tits. Karen in three months would be six and a half feet
tall, with freaky bodybuilder muscles and some of the biggest
all-natural mams on the planet.

As I was deciding, Karen walked over to a shelf, pulled off a jar, and
read the label, "For the purpose of diminishing the endowments of a
person with whom nature has been too generous." She continued, "Tracy,
you're either leaving here bigger and stronger, or smaller and weaker.
Which is it going to be?"

The choice had been made for me. I said, "Alright, I'll take four
tablespoons of the breast enlarger, one of the muscle growing stuff, and
6 of the intelligence enhancer."

"Six? No way I'm letting you have six tablespoons of that! Assuming
that much doesn't kill you, or turn you into some weird idiot savant
vegetable, you'd be a lot smarter than ME, which ain't going to happen.
I'll let you have three tablespoons of the brain booster."

"Five," I haggled.

"Four," she responded, "and that's the last word. Anything more out of
you, and you're going to wind up three feet tall."

I grinned, walked over and swallowed four tablespoons of the breast
enlarger, and then four tablespoons to increase my intelligence, and one
to make me bigger and stronger.

Karen gave me a glass of water to wash them all down, which I drank. We
three were waiting for me to start developing, when I noticed Karen was
grinning a little strangely.

"What are you smiling about?" I accused.

She cackled and said, "About the four tablespoons of muscle grower you
just took. I switched them."

"You...you...treacherous BITCH!"

"Oh, come on. It's not like you don't want muscles, I just gave you
what you want. You're so afraid of losing that weakling boyfriend of
yours, you'd let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity pass you by. Do you
know how many women would KILL for this, to be stronger than the men in
their lives?" Karen explained.

Looking back, I realize she made a lot of sense, but at the time, I was
furious. I screamed, "If you're so interested in seeing me built like an
amazon, why didn't you let me take six tablespoons?"

Karen smirked and said, "Sweetheart, I only had five tablespoons, and
you were bigger than me to start with. If I'd let you take six, or even
five, in fifteen minutes you'd be much stronger than me, which I can't
allow."

"Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down! You took FIVE? You told us you'd taken
TEN!" I looked at the bulging muscles which had blossomed on her frame
in the last half hour, and said, "If you took only FIVE, and I took FOUR,
I'm going to be HUGE! I'll be *much* stronger than Richard, and he'll
leave me!" I wept.

Karen said, "Well, I think the effect doubles with each dose, so that
your strength will only develop half as much as mine, but again, you
started with more strength than I did. Don't you see? You'll be three
to four times as strong as the average man when your three months are up,
in fifteen minutes you'll be a quarter of the way there! You'll be a
goddess!" I realized from the way she was looking at me, though, that my
transformation was at hand.

Well, Diary, I'll collect my thoughts on the transformation and get back
to you in a few days.

Love,

Tracy

================T R A C E Y ' S D I A R Y=====================

November 11, 1996

Dear Diary,

How can I explain the changes I went through in those minutes after
Karen duped me into taking the body-building formula? It was heaven and
hell. It was like my first orgasm; the rapturous pleasure all tied up
in the monstrous fear and guilt of the carnal act.

I mentioned in my last two entries how I craved the transformation.
Some girls want big breasts, and I'm not saying ample knockers aren't
nice, but I wanted to be big in every area. My greatest desire was for
strength. Back then, it seemed an impossible dream, to be as much
stronger than most men as they are stronger than women. To turn the
tables, to knock them around and hold them beneath my solid, powerful
body, that was my fantasy.

But love and fantasy don't always mesh. My desire for men weaker than
me had led me to Richard, I'm sure of that; although, at the time, he
was still the stronger of the two of us. He was slender and frail for a
boy, though, and couldn't easily out-muscle me. That was good enough.

I was afraid, as my transformation began, that he would leave me if I
developed large, powerful muscles. As my breasts began to expand,
that's what I was thinking.

But the weight of my new breasts, that's what I was most aware of. As
they grew and swelled outward, I could feel the growing strain on my
back and shoulders. I was so weak, my puny, soft muscles overloaded by
an extra few pounds of breast-flesh! It seems hard to believe, now.

I wasn't really prepared for them. Rubbing my hands against my
inflating breasts, an avalanche of sensations washed over me. I
imagined nerves and ganglia multiplying as quickly as fat cells within
my swelling bosom, increasing sensitivity in synch with increasing size.
While they weren't growing as quickly as Maggie's had, they still seemed
enormous to me, as they grew from an AA cup into what I could only guess
was a B, and then a small C cup. I thought I would orgasm just from the
sensation of my cotton T-shirt stretching against my developing tits - it
felt THAT good.

Suddenly, I felt fire wash through my body. My perceptions became
vastly clearer, more detailed. I realized, somehow, that the brain
booster was acting on my central nervous system, not just making me
smarter, but improving my reflexes, sharpening my perception, and
improving all of my senses. No wonder Karen hadn't wanted me to get too
much of this stuff!

Soon after, my muscles started growing.

Have you ever ripped a cardboard box, Diary? That's what it felt like.
It felt like little strands, cords, and fibers all over my body tearing
apart. I felt like I was exploding through my skin - a tightness
grabbed me and I delighted in the vicious agony.

Convulsing, I splayed my fingers out on the floor, and watched as veins
popped out of my forearm. Seeing muscle tissue beginning to bulge, I
tried to flex my right arm, but I had no control over my body and its
new muscles.

My joints screamed with enraged, searing pain. I realized they must be
growing pains, but multiplied a thousand fold. I was able to see my
legs extending, the pants cuff moving further and further up my leg,
until both cuffs tore open within a few seconds of each other, unable to
contain my newly-powerful calves.

Unsteadily, I stood up, trembling from the agony and power I felt. I
raised my arms above my head, and screamed, my wildly tightening biceps
and triceps bursting open the sleeves that tried vainly to contain their
growing size and strength.

My tits were as big as Maggie's now, having grown larger over the last
few minutes. But unlike Maggie's delicate, tear drop shaped breasts,
mine protruded like bullets off of my over-developed pectoral muscles.
I realized I had grown to about 5'6" tall, and my new long, lean, solid
muscles had completely changed the appearance of my body.

The pain passed, and my mind filled with rage. Grabbing Karen, who was
now shorter, but still slightly more muscular, than I, I flung her
across the room like a doll. She smashed into the wall, got up, and
screamed, "What's your fucking PROBLEM!?"

"You are!" I yelled back, "I'm going to lose Richard! Change me back!"

"I'm not letting you change back," she said, "you're an amazon goddess
now, you stupid cow! You can have any man you want! You're stronger
than THEM, now!"

"I....am, aren't I?" I flexed my right bicep, astounded as it inflated
like a balloon. I tried as hard as I could (which was pretty hard,
after my transformation) to crush my bulging arm muscle with my left
hand, but to no avail. What had possessed all the size and hardness of
a marshmallow 15 minutes earlier was now as large and hard as a
baseball. If Karen's estimates were correct, I was now more than twice
as strong as my boyfriend.

"But, please, I'll lose Richard! Make me a LITTLE weaker, make my
muscles smaller, so he won't notice how strong I've become," I begged.

"First off," Karen argued, "he probably won't notice. Something about
this stuff clouds the minds of the people around us. Unless we really
beat them over the head with it, nobody will perceive any change in us."

"Secondly, haven't you ever noticed how much effort your weakling
boyfriend goes to let everybody know how disgusted he is by Carla's
muscles? Methinks he doth protest too much," she said.

"Thirdly, I'll make you a deal. I'll give you two tablespoons of the
strength & size reducing powder to take back with you, if you promise
only to ingest them if Richard notices your changes and doesn't like
them."

"Okay, I promise."

"Alright," she said, sighing, "let's get out of here. I left baggy
clothes for all of us topside."

Karen and I bounded up the 300 steps, revelling in our new strength, as
Maggie, still relatively weak, cried out to us to wait for her.

All the way back, Karen and I had to wait for Maggie. We'd developed
such enormous strength and stamina, we could peddle our bicycles at top
speeds for hours. Maggie, though now very strong for a girl, still had
only normal human physical strength. Karen and I had become something
more.

That night, all three of us snack into the football team's weight room,
to test ourselves out.

None of us had ever pumped any iron before, and we didn't really know
what to do. We let Maggie go first, and were surprised when she was
able to bench-press, for ten repetitions, 175 pounds!

"Christ, Maggie, you only took one tablespoon, and you've become a
brute," Karen observed.

I won't tell you how much weight Karen and I threw up that night, but
suffice it to say, we had to gather it up from several different weight
stations, and it still didn't challenge us. It was clear that none of
the football players were remotely as strong as we were, now.

Karen had radically underestimated the effect of the powders on muscle
density, and maybe the mystics had, as well. Their instructions had
implied that a weak man could gain average strength with two
tablespoons, but with just one tablespoon Maggie had gone from
possessing zero upper body strength to being pretty strong even by male
standards.

Based on our new estimates, I realized that in three months I would have
the strength of 25 men, and Karen twice that. Maggie, so concerned
about not developing "unfeminine" muscles, would have the strength of
four men, in a body that would have put Marilyn Monroe out of business.

I also enjoyed watching my muscles bulge that night, as I pumped
colossally heavy weights that felt like feathers to me, I resolved I
would never take the weakening compound, no matter WHAT Richard thought.

Well, Diary, I'm tired. I'll continue this later.

Love,

Tracy

================T R A C E Y ' S D I A R Y=====================

November 15, 1996

Dear Diary,

I thought it would be interesting to look through Richard's journals
from the week after the start of my transformation. I've photocopied
and taped them in here.

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Saturday, 23 June, 1995, 11:00 am - Kitchen table

Tracy gone on cycling trip with Maggie & Karen this morning.

I plan to spend day practicing meditation - could be useful on SATs.

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Sunday, 24 June 1995, 7:30 p.m. - My bedroom

Called Tracy today. Wanted to experiment with "Rite of Shiva" ancient
mystical Hindi lovemaking technique I've read of. She made excuses,
didn't seem to want to see me - her voice a little husky. Denies she
has cold or flu. Dumping me?

Perhaps for best. While having trouble coming to terms with fixation on
physically dominant women, may be best to put such a frail creature as
Tracy back on shelf.

Carla, though. She fills my sleep. Is she as strong as me? Stronger?
I need to know.

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Monday, 25 June 1995, 12:30 p.m. - School cafeteria

Strangeness afoot. Tracy and her two cheerleader friends went out
bicycling Saturday, and she's avoided me since.

The summer college prep seminar is in session, roughly half the junior &
senior class is enrolled. Provides excellent opportunity to keep tabs
on Tracy. I approached her at her locker this morning, intending to
confront, but felt dizzy, confused when I spoke to her.

Her two cheerleader friends, Karen & Maggie, were there. They moved
very close to me (supported me as I fell?), I felt vaguely threatened.
I remember the whole parade of events as though a dream.

Oddly arousing. Am I coming down with flu?

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Tuesday, 26 June 1995, 10:30 p.m., My bedroom - mescaline test
(transcribed later from scribbles)

Lamp lamp lamp

BIG GIRL

BIG GIRLS have all the fun

CARLA LARCA LRACA TRACA TRACY

All bones and no flesh made tRACY a dull girl

super cheerleaders

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Wednesday, 27 June, 7:00 am, My bedroom

Looking over past night's hallucinogenic scribblings, clear that my
unusual fetish is occupying my thoughts. Odd that I should imprint it
on Tracy, so small and weak. In fever-dream I imagined her as tall as
myself, fabulously muscled and endowed.

Began taking hallucinogens to come into contact with my true mind, is it
leading me astray? Sex magic with Tracy having after-effects? Perhaps
best to focus on 12th grade concerns: chess team, homework, AD&D.
Princeton would reject me out of hand if this became known.

Yet just writing about Tracy has aroused me. What is happening?

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Thursday, 28 June 1995, 3:45 am, Woods behind high school

Holy shit.

I am going out of my fucking MIND!

Where do I start? I can't, I don't, how can this happen?

She lifted me over her, rolled me under her. I felt like a sex toy.
Tracy was in control. Completely. I may as well have been a dildo.

The mescaline has corrupted my mind. I'm going home to sleep (must not
miss school - perfect attendance record to think of), then, what?

Voluntary committal at mental hospital?

I don't know. Cheerleaders can turn into amazons overnight, can't they?
I mean, CAN they? Freudian slip. Giddy.

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Friday, 29 June 1995, 7:00 a.m., My bedroom

No sleep.

Fuck the college prep seminar, I'm staying home.

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Friday, 29 June 1995, 12:15 p.m., School cafeteria

Came in late, record intact.

How did I miss it before? Tracy has grown as tall, if not taller, than
I. Her friends have developed remarkably since last week, as well. No
one seems to have noticed. What is happening?

Last night was like something out of fantasy. Groping think knotted
cords of muscle even as I plunged deeper and deeper into a woman so
familiar, yet so alien. Breasts ample enough to suffocate pressed into
my face, nipples like little-toes resisting my tongue.

Not in control. I did as she suggested or, at times, commanded.

I have always stood up to bullies, many fights lost, some won. As worst
as I've been tossed around was as nothing compared to Tracey's gentle
power last night. I have never been so aroused.

Still I did not believe my eyes until her blouse came off. The first
glimpse of her concave, muscular stomach, followed by her ample breasts
(D - CUP?), and thick pectoral muscles convinced me that my suspicions
were correct. But my reason fled me and faintness nearly prevailed as
her arms and shoulders emerged from beneath their veil. Thicker and far
stronger than have any business being found on a sixteen-year-old girl,
they overwhelmed me before I was even wrapped within them. And when I
was wrapped within them, I would have done, and WOULD DO, ANYTHING to
remain there.

I am in love, but will she still love me, now that she is so much the
stronger of us?

**********************R I C H A R D ' S J O U R N A L**********************

Friday, 29 June 1995, 7:00 p.m., My bedroom

Went to the cheerleading practice today, had a chance to size girls up.

Maggie:
Smallest, least muscular of transformed three. Breasts very large,
movements athletic and confident - perhaps possessed of enhanced physical
strength.

Karen:
Nearly as tall as me. Very large breasts, extremely muscular. Seems to
be even larger today than earlier in week. Still growing? Enhanced, if
not superhuman, strength very likely. Knocked Tracy over accidentally!
Behavior erratic.

Tracy:
Slightly taller than me. Build very athletic, long lean muscles.
Smallest breasts of three, though still very large. Definite enhanced
strength.

Noted with irony that Carla, formerly my fantasy woman, now same height
as Tracy, much less muscular, smaller breasts. Seems skinny,
underdeveloped, and girlish by comparison.

Fears about Tracey's loss of interest in me seem unfounded. She is more
affectionate than ever. Karen's continued growth raises questions,
though. How large will three cheerleaders get? Will other students
experience similar transformations? Tracy refuses to discuss root of
growth. Possibly viral/hormonal disorder. Possibly magic - black or
white? Bicycle trip? Must investigate.

Was Karen making eyes at me?

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

Such a perceptive boy, isn't he?

Love,

Tracy

================T R A C E Y ' S D I A R Y=====================

Dear Diary,

A week after the initial transformation, things began to settle back
into their normal routine. Karen had grown another 2 inches in the first
week back, with a disproportionate enlargement of her muscles and
breasts. She was now nearly as tall as me again, and about twice as
strong.

Even though I only grew another half inch, the increase in strength felt
incredible. And Karen had been completely right about Richard liking
amazons - ever since we'd come back from our bicycle trip he hadn't been
able to keep his hands off me.

I was curious about the "weakening potion" Karen had given me, in case
Richard had been repulsed by my "enhanced" figure. Was it really what
she'd said? She had tricked me before, and I couldn't be confident that
she wasn't up to her old tricks again. Regardless, I had to know.

I needed a guinea pig.

Carla seemed a good choice. I wouldn't use much of the stuff on her,
just enough to produce a measurable effect. Before Karen, Maggie, and I
had left her behind, she had generally been considered the school
amazon. She looked puny next to us now, but I knew she loved having
muscles - and big tits, too.

Since she was built already, a little more wouldn't be unappreciated,
and a little less wouldn't be noticed. With her workout routine, she'd
probably pack it back on in a month.

I went to the gym with her a few times, just to get her routine down. I
was amazed at how easily I mimicked Carla's workout. Watching her do
curls with a 25-pound dumbbell, though, I understood that she had worked
for her muscle, 10 days earlier I could barely have lifted a 25-lb.
weight off the ground. At this point, though, being a little less than
a third of the way to the conclusion of my amazonic development, I
probably could have curled close to ten times that with each arm.

So I played along, doing Carla's routine along with her. Finally I
screwed up my courage and put a tiny pinch of Karen's powder in Carla's
Gatorade while she was finishing up her squats.

Carla was wearing a tight, sleeveless T-shirt today, that showed off her
shoulders and breasts. Her next exercise would be the bench-press, and
I figured that between her revealing outfit and spotting her, I'd be in
a position to judge any change.

She took a deep gulp from her drink, finishing it off, and then
sauntered over to me. Even with her arms hanging at her sides, her
biceps were clearly discernible. And the fabric of her muscle T-shirt
was stretched tightly over the deltoids of her shoulders, leaving
rippled stretch marks in the white cotton leading down to her protruding
breasts. Wearing a tight pair of shorts, her shapely butt was in much
the same situation. Long, uncovered legs headed south from there. She
was a beautiful girl with an amazing body. No wonder Richard stared at
her!

"Carla," I thought, "I hope this stuff makes your muscles bust the seams
in that outfit."

I was fairly sure that's what would happen, Karen was such a treacherous
wench. Even though she did tell me the stuff would shrink me back down
towards normal size, I didn't believe her. With her wacky sense of
humor, taking it would probably turn me into the Incredible Hulk. And
if something else did happen, I'd make a trip back up to the mystics'
lab, get what I needed, and put things right for Carla.

Carla was busy putting the weight on the bar as I thought about this.
"140?" I asked, "That's a little more than usual, isn't it Carla?"

"Yeah," she said, "but for some reason I feel like I could bench a truck
today!"

My heart soared! I stepped behind the bench to spot her, and she
gripped the bar, lifted it off its mounts, and lowered it to her chest.
I watched carefully, expecting growing pectorals to push swelling
tit-flesh through a shredded muscle-tee at any second!

I could see through her T-shirt that her nipples were hardened, so I
figured the stuff must be kicking in.

Carla cleared the bar five times, but on the sixth rep, she lowered it
to her chest, and couldn't bring it back up again.

"Tracy, looks like you were right, 140's too much. Get this off of me,"
she said.

I reached down and lifted the bar, grabbing it at the sides so as not to
cop a feel of the ample boob-flesh it was pressed into. Carefully
inspecting her upper body, I couldn't see any difference!

She got up off the bench, took a step, and then fell flat on her face,
as both of her sneakers slipped off her feet and bounced across the
floor.

"Fuck!" I thought.

As she got up, I could see that her shirt seemed bigger than it had
before. The fabric between her shoulders and breasts was loose, no
longer stretched. And as she stood up, I realized that I could no
longer see biceps in her untensed arms. Her shoulders and breasts
didn't protrude nearly as much as before.

"What the hell was that?" She asked. "Did you see that? My shoes
just fell off!"

I watched, dismayed, as the hem of her muscle shirt slowly slid lower,
covering her formerly bare midriff. Her breasts, which had been about a
C-cup, deflated slowly, through B, and into A...and finally disappeared
altogether.

Suddenly noticing what was happening, Carla flexed her right bicep,
noticeably smaller than it had been when she was doing curls a few
minutes earlier.

As we watched, her now-golf ball sized bicep became smaller and less
well defined, the prominent blue vein sinking into the muscle as it grew
softer. In just over a minute, Carla lacked any noticeable bicep
whatsoever, despite mightily straining to flex it. Her legs were even
more affected than her arms, shrunken to the "chicken legs" level of
underdevelopment.

Amazonic Carla had become downright puny.

She looked up at me, gawking, still shrinking. I grabbed her behind her
bony shoulder blades and practically carried her out of the gym and into
the girl's locker room.

Once there, I stripped her. As I pulled off her pants, a flurry of
detached pubic hair filled the air.

Examining her, I realized what had happened. Carla was now about 10
years old, by the look of her. A pinch of the powder had stripped away
6 years! She'd lost a foot of height, her fat tits, and shapely, strong
muscles in about 15 minutes. I suspected that this powder acted fully
right away, since the effects had been so drastic with such a small
dose. But one conclusion stood out: Karen had given me enough of the
powder to turn me into an embryo, had I taken it.

Carla was crying, alternately rubbing the ribs beneath her nipples and
grasping her soft, thin arms. "What's happening to me!? I've become so
small and weak!" She wept, "And my tits are GONE!"

"It's okay, I'll fix it. Come with me."

Carla's clothes fit her like a tent, but they'd have to do. I got on my
bicycle and put her on my lap, not trusting her emaciated arms to be
able to hold onto me from behind. Peddling furiously for the mystics'
lab on the smooth rail bed, I was able to accelerate to fairly high
speeds, my superhuman strength propelling the mountain bike along at
better than 60 miles an hour. Soon we were there.

Karen had buried the lanterns in the dirt near where we'd eaten lunch
during our last visit. I was gratified to find them in the same place,
and 10 minutes later, Carla and I were in the lab.

I made her sit in the corner, afraid her shock might cause her to do
something rash. After searching for a little while, I found the age
reagents: Older and Younger. Apparently, a pinch was good for 30% of
your starting age. Three pinches would turn a septuagenarian into a
7-year old.

One pinch would turn a 16 year old into an 11 year old. Apparently
that's what had happened.

Getting her back to normal would be tricky, too tricky. Better to
approximate: a pinch of the "Older" would get her back nearly to 15, and
she wasn't much smaller a year and a half ago than she was this morning.
It would have to do.

I walked over to her, and said, "Eat this."

She did, and we sat back and waited.

A few minutes later, a stain of blood appeared around her mid-section,
and she started growing.

I started to get excited as she grew taller, and her swelling breasts
were an incredible turn on - growing larger and larger, filling out her
T-shirt again, the shirt highlighting her big bosom. But no muscles
grew to fill the muscle-tee. Her limbs stayed thin and girlish, weak as
hell.

All told, she reached to about 5'6" of her previous 5'8", and the old
Carla would overflow a brassiere that fit the smaller, though still
ample, new Carla. She flexed her arms, but scarcely any muscle raised
from them at all. Everything about her seemed so...depleted.

"I'm still so weak! I HATE being weak," she cried.

"What the hell," I thought. I realized, belatedly, that the powder had
turned her into a plain 14 1/2 year old, not a 14 1/2 year old who'd
been doing gymnastics and pumping iron for three years. Time would add
a half cup size to her chest and 2 inches to her height, but she'd have
to start from scratch where her muscles were concerned. That wasn't
fair, I had to put things right, and make up for the trauma I'd caused.
Besides, we needed FOUR strong girls for the cheerleading competition in
August. One more weakling wouldn't do us any good. But with one more
REALLY strong girl, we could have a REALLY cool routine! "Out of the
frying pan...."

"I can make you strong again Carla - stronger than you've ever been,
even in your weirdest, wildest dreams. And with bigger, harder muscles
than you ever imagined could be possible."

Some story, hey Diary-mine? But it'll keep until I'm ready to put pen
to paper again.

Love,

Tracy