Her Body of Muscle: Winter vs the Nanobots

Chapter 13

Winter stared at the closed door. Waves of anger rolling up her fatigued body, she could hear her heart pounding as her body temperature rose. Smoldering humiliation. She looked at the small piece of paper and key on the table. Furiously, Winter gripped her coffee cup. She brought it to her mouth, threw her head back, and drank the burning cup down in one long swig. The burning sensation caused her body to shudder as the burning sensation tortured her throat. Subconsciously her pectoral muscles clenched and relaxed rhythmical, large breasts quivering against the loose shirt.

Rest day or not, she was going to go to the warehouse. Stripping off her baggy clothes, Winter threw on workout gear and flew out the door, forgetting a coat. What day was it? Saturday. Maybe Jackson would be there - she could use a smiling face. She imagined herself flying into a hand gesturing rage, laying the whole story at his sympathetic feet.

The gym was nearly empty, a typical late morning on the weekend. A lonely girl in the corner on a treadmill left a soft whirring buzz hovering in the air. For once, music wasn't blaring over the old, suspended box speakers spread throughout the gym. Feeling tight and stiff, head throbbing in waves, Winter headed for the stretching mats. Wearing black yoga pants and a thin multi strapped sports bra with a loose deep v-neck black tank top, Winter cut a vibrant youthful vision of ebullient fast-twitch athleticism. Sleek and black, the tight fabric magnified her breasts while leaving her shoulders bare but for thin straps of nylon. The effect showcased rep pounded muscular shoulders, sinewed biceps that magnified the curves of a narrow waist. The black sheen of the yoga pants rippled and flexed with vibrancy. Her presence stood in dramatic contrast to the rest of the time worn old grunge of the gym. Cracking orange and blue paint had an old school ambience magnified by faded motivational quotes littering the walls. Winter's feminine pulsing strength cut right to the front of the canvas. Splashing three dimensions onto an old two-dimensional universe.

Standing with legs shoulder length apart, Winter reached down for the floor with knees slightly locked. She pushed into a deep hamstring stretch as her palms flattened on the ground. Her calves, hamstrings and glutes flinched and flexed as she deepened the stretch. The black fabric refracting the overhead lighting cast shadows of sinewy muscle down the back of her legs. Winter breathed air out in a slow ten count, emptying her lungs. She continued to hold and deepen the stretch for the next couple minutes as long, unkempt hair cascaded to the floor haphazardly.

Oh god... it feels good. Winter felt the tension seeping from her limbs. Using her arms to support her weight, she let her legs slowly spread into a full split. Fingertips crawled out in front of her as she dropped her head and chest to the mat, reaching and stretching her broad back and spine. The fabric of the loose tank top cratering into the long deep valley of parallel muscle fiber running vertically from her glutes to neck. The sharp pronounced muscles of her back added rolling soft valleys and mountains as the tank top fled from her waist, dancing up her back as she lengthened.

The bliss of unwrapping soreness, of stretching out taught exhaustion left her mind happily blank for a period. But out of the peaceful mental silence, a cacophony of confusion started ringing towards a crescendo. So many questions. But most of all a panicky nagging concern that someone, somehow would discover what she had done the previous night. It had been a steady tormenting fear since waking that morning. The righteous anger and confusion of Phil's dramatic appearance had been a temporary ironic reprieve, throwing a wrench of fury amongst the pot of anxiety.

Phil had been the complete picture of an obsessive-compulsive, adrenaline-fueled nutjob. It was surely not a coincidence that her burglarizing him the night before fueled his appearance the next morning. And now he was after some black tech equipment case? Winter pictured the silver fortified tech cases currently littered on her bedroom floor like children's toys. In a flash and shiver Winter realized, Phil was panicking. She had something he needed, and Phil couldn't... wouldn't? Let the other thing, whatever it was, vanish as well.