Winter's pursuit of female muscle triggers unprecedented growth. But she's caught in the crosshairs of a major tech acquisition with perplexing, mysterious and increasingly dangerous complications. Can an impossibly beautiful woman devote herself...
Like leaning just too far out over a cliff, Winter felt conviction tipping her past the point of no return. She turned the knob and stepped on tip-toes, throwing the heavy oak bedroom door open with a creek. She heard soft wrestling of sheets from the distant end of the dark room.
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"Hellllooo?" A groggy man across the dark room asked. Phil. She cringed. Just the sound of her x-husbands voice was obnoxious. Like gritting teeth in deep painful conviction at the end of a long lifting session, Winter felt her body and mind focus in concentration.
Still, the fierce anger mingled with festering insecurity for a moment. She hesitated as a whisper of the old self-doubt Phil had constantly belittled her with stuck in her throat. No, you have no claim left in my life, she thought.
"Up, now." Winter said in a hushed but clear authoritative voice.
"What??" Phil questioned sleepily.
There was more rustling and soft recessed lighting flipped on overhead. Winter stood in the massive doorway, silhouetted by perfect soft expensive built-in lighting. The odd cartoon Anna from Frozen mask still covered her face, drawing a bizarre distinction between a Disney cartooned princess and Winter's figure. Femininity magnified by muscular proportionality. A flesh and bone other-worldly reflection of aesthetic artistry. In the dim slanted lighting, her imposing figure was impossibly stunning. Still, a flash of doubt again struck her. Her fingers flinched instinctually, wanting to fly up to cover her chest with one hand and her shaven smooth body between her tight muscled upper thighs with the other. She took in a deep breath and relaxed her hands. Her arms hung confidently, unapologetically, at her side.
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After only a couple years of fervent weight training, physically straining and learning to push through the hardest reps and pain, she knew she was still just a modest reflection of her muscular potential. Fortunately, she could still feel the addictive pump of an exhausting workout with Jackson late that evening. It coursed through her body, exaggerating weary muscle, frantically repairing body building micro-tears.
Sure, maybe I'm just a fraction of the size and power that's coming, she thought, but I have no reason to apologize now. Still on her tiptoes, Winter's legs quivered with athletic power. Her chest, which once triggered hunched shoulders and a self-conscious need to hide under layers of bras and clothing, now stood firm and resolute. Spectacularly proportional relative to her steadily evolving, broadening, figure of health and power.
