Alisa 3

At this point, Alisa was fully naked, doing thrusters with a barbell loaded with an impossible 600lb weight. She squatted all the way down, and with a deep grunt, stood and hefted the weight above her head. I sat on the bench, awestruck, as she pumped the weight again and again, her massive musculature seeming to swell with growth right before my eyes.

She dropped the weights with a crash and proceeded to load another 100lbs onto the bar.

“Fuck, babe, I feel so fucking JACKED UP! I feel like there’s a thousand angry bees inside me, ready to blow my body BIGGER and BEEFIER!” she cried. 

Then she hoisted the weight, seemingly even easier than the one before, and proceeded to bang out more reps. Her thighs exploded, twitching and pulsing with growth, approaching the size of my waist. Her arms bulged and expanded as gnarled heads of muscle twisted to prominence on her biceps and triceps. Her traps engorged, eating her neck, and climbing higher than her ears. She was a massively muscled beast!

When police arrived, the screamed at her, telling her to drop the weight. Alisa snickered, and threw the weight down with a crash. The steel weights actually fractured from the force of the blow, and the concrete floor of the gym cracked.

An officer raised a gun, pointed it at Alisa’s prodigious pecs, and ordered her to lay down. Alisa just gritted her teeth, even the muscles in her jaw expanding into a twisted nightmare, and flexed into a most muscular. Her pecs stacked up into toaster-oven sized masses of corded muscle.

“Make me!” she seethed through grit teeth.

The officer, nearly pissing himself at the mutant mass in front of him, pulled the trigger. A bullet struck Alisa’s left peck, puncturing the skin. But such was the density and mass of her mighty pectoral that the bullet barely penetrated an inch into her six-inch deep pecs. 

Alisa snarled, angry at the bee sting created by the 9mm bullet striking her powerful pecs. She bounced her pecs and flexed again, willing more growth into her already massive pecs. The writhed and bulged, angry blue worms squirming across them. As they slowly expanded, her left pec slowly ejected the bullet embedded there by the shot. It fell to the ground, and only a small trickle of blood ran down Alisa’s front pec.

“How dare you!” she roared as she advanced. Her massive roar stunned the cops as she quickly covered the distance. She grabbed the officer’s gun hand and squeezed, crushing his hand and snapping the pistol in half. With her other hand, she grabbed him by the neck and hoisted him into the air with one hand.

“Check it out, babe. I’m fucking bullet proof!” Alisa said, holding the officer aloft with one hand as she glanced back at me and flexed the other into a side chest pose. Her left pec vibrated with energy and growth, the bullet hole quickly closing and knitting itself back together.

She turned back to the officer and said, “My turn.” 

Then she slammed her fist into his chest. There was a huge crack as his sternum collapsed and multiple ribs shattered. The force of the blow sent the officer careening through the air for about 5 feet before he fell in a huff. She quickly stalked over, seeing the man struggling to breathe. 

Alisa turned to the officer’s partner, who stood shaking in fear. She flexed down into a most muscular, her pecs stacking up to her chin, massive triceps flaring to the sides while bowling-ball sized masses of biceps dug into the sides of her chest. Her traps squirmed higher, swallowing her head.

The officer pissed himself in fear. Alisa chuckled. Then she strode forward and grabbed the man’s head and slammed it into the cleft between her pecs. She crunched her arms together, causing her pecs to engorge into solid striated masses of beef. As she squeezed, the man’s skull collapsed, splashing brain, blood, and gore all over Alisa’s ultra-butched out musculature.

Alisa turned to me and did a sick double-biceps pose. Her blood-spattered form quivered with growth, her biceps rising and thickening until it looked like she had watermellons shoved into her biceps and footballs shoved into her forearms. Her pecs stood like foot-thick granite blocks, totally shredded and striated with muscle.

“I’m becoming a goddess!” she cried. I couldn’t help but be hard as a rock.