Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login

Mature Content

or, enter your birth date.



Please enter a valid date format (mm-dd-yyyy)
Please confirm you have reviewed DeviantArt's Terms of Service below.
* We do not retain your date-of-birth information.

Sylph and Tetsuko Breckinridge in “Pressing Flesh”


“Th-thirty… s-s-se-seven!”


“Gyah!  Aaah!”




{shthiiip!  BAM!  Fmp!}


“Oh…ick!  Sylph!”

Sylph sat up quickly from her bench- really just a slightly irregularly shaped lump of scrap metal she’d salvaged from her work at Boglyn- and looked over to see her friend Khalida covered from forelocks to feet in hydraulic fluid.

“Sorry,” Sylph apologized sincerely, “it’s just getting harder to find any equipment that can stand up to a serious workout.”

Khalida rolled her eyes and looked at the ruin that had been Sylph’s ad hoc workout room.  An enormous hydraulic press had withdrawn almost completely into the ceiling after the pylons had bent and the tubes had cracked.  Khalida tried to catalogue the damages.  Sylph had been pressing against a thick steel bar joining two twenty-ton presses.  That bar had bent slightly in the center- probably metal fatigue from the enormous pressure Sylph’s grip exerted- and the presses had twisted fractionally in towards the center.  Sylph had then tried to force the bar back up, in the process shearing part of the hydraulic piston as she drove the housing back up into the ceiling against the hydraulic pressure.  The return lines for the hydraulic fluid must have been blocked when the presses were torqued the wrong way.  That explained the pressure buildup, which had culminated in the sides of both pistons first bulging, and then exploding like overfilled balloons.  Released from the hydraulic pressure, Sylph’s arms had literally shot up with the force of a cannon, slamming the assemblage into the ceiling and spraying hydraulic fluid all over the room just as Khalida had come in.

Khalida wiped her face, smearing the viscous fluid across her forehead.  “Should you really be pressing yourself so hard?” she asked.  “I was there when Doctor Maxwell told you to take it easy, remember…”

Sylph grimaced.  “So was I,” she agreed, “but that was almost a month ago… and my shoulders feel fine, honest!”

“You’re just lucky she was able to track down someone with practical experience in dealing with industrial-strength-girl-sized injuries.” Khalida snorted.

“You mean Dr. Gannon?  Yeah, that was lucky.  I wonder how she ever got into that field in the first place… I mean, it’s not exactly a high-saturation market.”

Khalida nodded.  “Beats me,” she admitted.  “Oh- I almost forgot, what with all the slime, but you got a letter!”  She reached into her purse, withdrew a business envelope, and handed it to Sylph.

“Good thing it wasn’t caught in the spray,” Sylph mused wryly and Khalida grimaced.  “FOY Media Venture?  Who the heck are they?”

Khalida looked curiously over Sylph’s massive shoulder.  “Fountain of Youth Media, isn’t it?  A subsidiary of HS Industries, I think.  What do they want?”

Sylph tore open the letter and slipped out a sheet of expensive fabric paper.  She scanned it, shook her head, and then read it again.  “They want me to be on Intranational Vindicators- as a competitor!”

Khalida’s eyes bulged.  “They’re in charge of that travesty?”  She shook her head.  “You should do it,” she snorted, “show ‘em what a real athlete can do with their party games!”

The younger, bigger girl smiled lightly at her friends derision, then frowned as she actually considered the idea.  “I’ve seen that show a couple of times,” she mused, “and those Vindicators really are good athletes.  I mean, they’re not just big- they’re quick and tough, too.  I think they just sell the show based on the fact that most of ‘em are strength athletes.”

Khalida looked skeptical.  “You don’t seriously think any of them could beat you, do you?”

“Not really,” Sylph admitted easily, “certainly not in any sport where strength was an issue, anyways.

“Hm.  Well, maybe I’ll give it a shot- I mean, after all, it says here…


“It’s a benefit event?!”  Sonya looked horrified at the prospect.  “Hamilton Slade is hosting a benefit?  I don’t believe it.”

Tetsuko held the letter out to her friend, letting her scan it.  “It’s FOY media,” Tetsuko offered, “Slade probably doesn’t even remember that he owns them.”

Dr. Gannon glanced at the proffered missive, and then rolled her eyes.  “Oh, that’s good,” she muttered sarcastically, “and who’s it benefit- the starving children of third-world emperors?  I don’t think it’s a good idea, Tet-chan.”

Tetsuko smiled a little at Sonya’s suspicion.  Hamilton Slade had been a thorn- a very dangerous thorn- in their sides for as long as they’d known him.  He’d nearly killed Tetsuko even before he ever met her, all as a part of an attempt to get Dr. Gannon’s experimental anti-aging serum.  In the end, both he and Tetsuko had ended up getting much more than either had bargained for.  His goons used the serum first on Tetsuko, then, believing they’d killed her, took Dr. Gannon to their master to force her to work for him.

Sonya insisted that they all return to her lab, though, where they discovered that the serum had not, in fact, killed Tetsuko- it had transformed her.  Ecstatic with the prospect, Slade managed to secure a syringe full of the serum while Tetsuko squared off with his guards.  Taking the serum, it had not only stripped away the years from his aging body, it had also endowed him with massive, superhumanly powerful muscles, and it was only through Tetsuko’s and Sonya’s combined efforts that he was thwarted in his initial power-mad bid for world domination.

Tetsuko shivered a little at the thought, but examined the entry form more closely.  “No, Sonya, look- we get to select a charity organization for all the proceeds to go to- and FOY Media will contribute matching funds to the winner.  I think I should do it.”

Sonya grimaced.  “Well, if you really want to,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.  She adjusted her round glasses on her face and sighed.  “Well, it says we have six months to prepare.  I’ll do some research and see about setting up some new training programs for you…”

“Thanks, Sonya- you’re the greatest!”


Ralf surveyed the meager crowd stepping off the plane from Miami.  He held a large cardboard sign labeled “Breckenridge” in big black letters and he scanned the crowd for any sign of the woman he was supposed to meet.  He’d been lucky to land this job, he thought, as it was a little outside his main areas of expertise, but his advisor thought that it might be worthwhile for him to work inside the corporate world for a bit while he learned the labyrinthine twists and turns of their legal practices.

A result of his advisor’s string pulling was that he was now in Las Vegas working as an intern for FOY Media.  He glanced down at his gray suit and the uncomfortable red tie he wore.  At least the tie gave him an air of respectability, he supposed, although he would have preferred the t-shirt he’d regretfully left in his suitcase in the hotel.  He started to get worried as he realized that he hadn’t seen- or been seen- by the woman he was supposed to meet, yet.  He had no idea how he was supposed to recognize her.  Apart from athletic- which was a word that could have been applied to any number of women in the airport, including some of the stewardesses- and her last name, he was completely in the dark.  He sincerely hoped she would notice him, although with all the trouble he’d had pushing his relatively slight body through the press of largely obese American tourists, he thought she might have already missed him.

“Um, sir?” came a voice from just in front of him, “Are you looking for me?”  Ralf focused on the origin of the voice and was annoyed to realize that he was trying to look through the skull of a balding fat man who’d stepped directly in front of him.  Just beyond the fat man, however, he thought he saw a corn-silk yellow plume rising into the air.  Must be her hat, he thought sardonically, of all the gorgeous athletic women in the world, I get one with a fetish for tall…hats…

His thoughts ground to a halt as the fat man moved aside and he finally saw Ms. Breckenridge.  She stood nearly a foot taller than he did- maybe six-two, six-three? - and was easily the biggest woman he’d ever actually seen.  The tall plume that he’d mistaken for a hat was, in fact, a bouncy rooster-tail of hair that hung down over the right side of her face, nearly covering one of her large, green eyes.  Her face was cute and round and led down to a long neck surrounded by thick, powerful traps and deltoids.  She wore a tight-fitting tank-top that struggled to contain her considerable bust and failed utterly to hide the wing-like lats that pressed her arms out slightly from her sides.

And her arms- Ralf found he was torn between wanting to stare at her boobs and wanting to stare at her arms- were nothing short of massive.  They looked, in his estimation, to be as large around as his thighs, and much, much harder.  Her slacks struggled to conceal the dimensions of her butt and legs, but Ralf was certain they were at least as well-chiseled as her upper body.  He felt his throat go dry as he tried to formulate a response, an opening of any sort with which to greet this woman.

“Ah…” he croaked, “er…”

She giggled, then reached out and gently tilted his chin until he was looking up at her face again.  “Hi,” she smiled, “I’m Tetsuko!”

Who am I? he thought in a panic.  I had a name a minute ago… What was it?  Oh yeah… “Ralf?”

“A-hem!” said another woman’s voice.  Ralf managed, with difficulty, to pull his eyes away from the vision in front of him, only to find himself staring at another world-class beauty.  At least he recognized this lady, if only barely, from having seen her picture in the newspaper.  Dr. Sonya Gannon, owner and head scientist at Gannon Laboratories, stood maybe an inch or two shorter than Ralf, but must’ve weighed at least as much as him.  Not that she was fat- far from it, with two notable exceptions- rather that she was somewhat… generously… endowed.  Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, while her brown eyes were made to seem even larger behind the round frames of her spectacles.

“Ah, forgive me, Tetsuko, Dr. Gannon- I’m from FOY; I’m supposed to help you find your way around” pull your eyes up, Ralf, you can do it.  “So, if you’d care to follow me, we’ve just got one more stop and then I can take you to your hotel…” and now would probably be a good time to wipe the drool off your chin, too…

Dr. Gannon looked at Tetsuko and shrugged.  Whatever, her expression seemed to say.  Tetsuko shrugged in return.  “Lead on,” she smiled.

Ralf swallowed and turned on his heel, leading the two young women through the bewildering maze of McCarron International Airport to an area somewhat off the beaten path.  Tetsuko and Sonya glanced at each other, but Ralf seemed certain, if a little bit flustered.  Finally, they approached a small terminal on the ground floor used for passengers arriving on private jets.

They were just on time.

As they strode into the greeting area, Ralf caught sight of a young man and a young woman flanking a girl who obviously had to be the other competitor.  The taller of the two girls was the sort of Mediterranean beauty that caused heads to turn, hearts to race, and men to walk into lampposts.  She was curvy in all the right ways and every graceful movement made things move in ways that would have gotten a rise out of a dead man.  Her dark eyes scanned the crowded airport and a playful half-smile teased her lips as she saw Ralf and his associates.

Next to her, the young man looked almost plain by comparison.  He was taller than Ralf, with the sort of studied nonchalance that one associated with American Midwesterners.  His sandy hair and blue eyes were surprisingly vibrant against his pale skin.  He stood talking to the first girl, shoulders slightly slouched, hands in his pockets, while the other girl adjusted the straps of her obviously custom-made backpack.

It was this last girl who caught and trapped Ralf’s attention, though, even more than the amazing dusky beauty of the first girl.  Ralf knew he was a little strange, particularly in his attraction to muscular women, but this woman was simply beyond what he had imagined possible.  She was, in a word, freakish.  Her face was pretty enough- a strong chin, high cheekbones and an aquiline nose made her look almost elfish, although her rich brown hair gave the lie to that even before Ralf’s gaze struggled to take in the rest of her body.

Ralf had difficulty even conceiving the words to describe the rest of her body.  Muscular was too weak, huge was too small- she was, as clichéd as the expression seemed, a mountain of steel and muscle and bone.  Ralf tried to estimate how much she had to weigh- she was short, but so wide that her skeleton had to be unusually proportioned to support her- and he thought of pro-wrestlers who gave their weights as anything from two-fifty to three hundred pounds.  Based on that, he estimated her weight at close to six hundred.  Her shoulders looked like large pumpkins; her biceps were so large that Ralf didn’t doubt that they measured farther around than his own waist.  He’d heard people describe forearms as ‘pins’ before, referring to the tiny-hand-on-beefy-forearm phenomenon, but this woman seemed to redefine the concept with her tiny, long-fingered hands attached to arms that seemed so comically large that they must have gotten in the way of everyday tasks like writing or even drumming her fingers on a table.  Her chest was both wide and deep, with actual breasts adding to what must have been at least six inches of cavernous pectoral cleavage.  This amazing superstructure was supported by a waist that, at first glance, appeared tiny, almost too small to support the bulk resting on top of it.  It was only as his eyes and mind adjusted to the scope and size of the woman in front of him that he realized her waist was easily double, maybe even triple his own.  And if her waist is ninety inches, just how big does that make her chest? He wondered in awe.

She wore a wrap- out of convenience, Ralf guessed, because her dimensions were simply too unusual for her to buy clothes off-the-rack.  He’d always thought that the description ‘tree-trunk thighs’ was a kind of silly exaggeration, but this woman’s legs gave the lie to that supposition.  She lacked the definition of a professional bodybuilder, but it hardly mattered- her thighs were so large that they pressed the massive veins through the subcutaneous fat and made them stand out against her pale skin.  The knees, like her waist, seemed almost too small until Ralf made the mental adjustment necessary to see them without comparing them to her massive quadriceps.  In actuality, her knees were at least three times thicker than his own and supported by the industrial strength tendons and ligaments that must have run throughout her entire skeletal system.  Below her knees, her calves flared out again into the stylized heart shape that was so typical of world-class sprinters- and just about no one else- only so ridiculously exaggerated that they belonged in a cartoon instead of on a young girl.  For a moment, Ralf didn’t know whether he should be horrified or turned on.

“Ah, excuse me,” said the boy, “are you from FOY medi…”

“SONYA!” the bigger girl yelped, her voice sounding for all the world like a bubbly teen’s joyous whoop.  She bounded the rest of the way down the gangplank, her footfalls literally causing the floor to shake as her incredible mass maneuvered to the acclaimed doctor, and scooped the woman up in her arms, hugging her tightly for an instant before setting her back on the ground.  The momentary seismic event was enough to knock Ralf completely off his feet, although Tetsuko and the others all seemed to have managed to maintain their balance.  Little cracks spider webbed out from each place her feet had touched down.

“Well, hello, Sylph,” Dr. Gannon laughed, “it’s good to see you’re feeling better.  Are these your friends?”

Sylph nodded vigorously.  “You’ve met Khalida before, I think,” she said, gesturing to the Mediterranean beauty, “and the long, tall drink of water is my other best friend, Wade.  Are you and your friend here for the Vindicators benefit?”

“We are,” Sonya smiled.  “I don’t believe you’ve met Tetsuko, before.  Sylph, this is Tetsuko Breckenridge.  Tet-chan, this is Sylph Young.”

Sylph and Tetsuko shook hands, eying each other curiously.  “So,” Tetsuko said wryly, “you must be my competition…”

Sylph chuckled, “I guess so- I wonder what the events are going to be… mud wrestling?  It’s funny, but you’re not really what I expected,” she trailed off.

“Yeah?  You either,” Tetsuko admitted.  “Not that I really knew what to expect.”

Ralf finally found his voice.  “And now that you all know each other,” he quipped, “welcome to Fantasy Island!  I’ll be your host, Ralf, and-”

“Ralf,” Sonya’s quiet voice cut through his chatter, “you’re babbling.”

“Right- I do that, sometimes.  Um,” he cast about, looking for something to say, “Can I take your bags and show you to your hotel?”

Sylph and Tetsuko looked at each other and giggled.  Khalida stepped in and smoothly answered the question.  “Why don’t you just show us to our hotel?  I think we can handle our own luggage.”

Ralf reddened slightly, but rallied gamely.  “Right you are.  Well, Mr. Benchley has authorized four suites at the Four Seasons for you.  We’ve rented a pair of limousines, and the drivers are waiting for us.”


The Four Seasons was quite close at hand, barely five minutes once the limousines had cleared the airport, despite the notoriously heavy Las Vegas traffic.  Not immense by any stretch of the imagination, it was still a considerably larger hotel than anything Sylph had stayed in previously, and she looked on the neat, quiet façade with no small degree of trepidation.  Ralf, Tetsuko, and Dr. Gannon had all taken one limo, while Sylph and her friends had taken the somewhat larger vehicle- a stretch Hummer, a huge vehicle that Khalida had found hilarious.  That vehicle now rode low on its axles, the wheels scraping whenever they hit a bump or took a turn too quickly.  Sylph sincerely hoped that her weight in the back seat hadn’t caused any permanent damage to the luxuriously appointed car.

Khalida and Wade bounced out of the car almost before the car rolled to a stop, nearly colliding with Ralf, Tetsuko, and Sonya.  The doorman greeted them cordially and a bellhop arrived with a trolley to take their bags.  A moment later, Sylph managed to pull herself out of the hummer without actually removing the door or widening the frame- no mean feat- and grabbed her own bag before the driver could hurt himself trying to heft it over to the curb.  “Thanks,” she smiled graciously, “but I’d prefer to carry my own bags.”

The doorman, turning to face the newcomer, froze momentarily, his deeply tanned, angular face going nearly white with shock before he managed to recover and close his mouth.  “W-welcome to th-th-the F-f-four Seasons!” he stammered, his brain trying to keep pace with his mouth and obviously failing.

Sylph felt almost at home.  It had been a long time since her freakish appearance had achieved quite that level of shock, the momentary, involuntary twitch of horror that the doorman was valiantly trying to conceal.  She’d been living on campus in New York for so long that nearly everybody took her for granted- or at least, they didn’t try to hide their sons and daughters from her, anymore.  She sighed and made her way to join her friends at the doors.

Ralf watched this little interplay and scowled slightly, but Sylph pressed forward before he had time to raise an objection.  The doorman opened the doors and held them, his face turned inwards in a petrified mask so as not to display any further unprofessional disapproval of the guests now entering the hotel lobby.  No matter what they looked like, men and women who were renting rooms that cost upwards of a thousand dollars a night had to be treated with respect.

Ralf handled the check-in at the main desk; Sonya, Tetsuko, Sylph, and Khalida were all provided with one bedroom suites, while Ralf and Wade shared a so-called deluxe room with two double beds.  Leading them upstairs, Ralf first saw the ladies to their rooms, and then guided Wade back to their room on the floor below.  Kicking his shoes off, Ralf pulled out a ball pen and a pad of drawing paper while Wade started unpacking.

“She’s really something, huh?” Wade offered conversationally.

Distracted, Ralf muttered “uh-huh” before his brain fully rolled over.  “Uh- who’re we talking about?” he asked.  Wade chuckled, glancing over a t-shirt he was folding at the half-formed figure on Ralf’s sketch-pad.  Ralf had, with just a few strokes, created a suggestion of awesome size and power.

“You ought to ask her out,” Wade continued without answering.  “She doesn’t get a lot of invites- I think guys tend to be intimidated by her.”  He shuffled his shirts into a drawer, noticed one of Ralf’s t-shirts close at hand and picked it up curiously.  Against a textured green background was a picture of a blue-eyed monkey outlined in gold, a steaming brown pile held in its hand and a wide smile on its face.  Wade raised an eyebrow inquiringly and it was Ralf’s turn to chuckle.

“It’s one of my internet nicknames,” he explained, “I’m the Ref-monkey…”

Wade nodded.  “Anyway, like I was saying- you should ask her out if you’re interested.  Go have a good time before you’re both too busy to have any free time, y’know?”

Ralf nodded.  “What about Khalida?” he asked.  “I got the impression that they stuck together like they were glued.”

The lanky boy grinned.  “Leave that to me,” he replied confidently.


Having put their bags down, Sonya and Tetsuko started examining their room.  It was almost intimidatingly large, filled with tasteful and expensive furnishings.  Tetsuko wandered to the window and stared out at the strip, a bustling row of shops, casinos, taverns, and restaurants even now, before true darkness fell and the lights came up.

“You know, Sonya,” Tetsuko mused, “we’re in Vegas- we ought to go out on the town- at least a little, right?”

Sonya laughed.  “I’m still pretty done-in from the time difference, actually.  Maybe we could just grab a bite to eat and maybe wander up and down the strip, tonight?”

Sonya thought for a moment, then added, “Why don’t you invite Sylph along, too; she seems like good folks, and you guys might find that you have a lot in common…”

Tetsuko wrinkled her nose.  “Like being able to shot-put a bowling ball to the moon?  Not exactly the basis for a great friendship, doc,” she began, but then saw Sonya’s face and sighed.  “Fine, I’ll invite her along.  Maybe we can go out and get ice cream or something.”

A few minutes later, Sonya ambled along the wide sidewalk between her Amazonian friends.  Tetsuko walked along in an uncharacteristically surly funk, at first, but couldn’t maintain her bad humor for long.  As they progressed, she began noticing the wild displays, the lights, the street-theater, and, before long, she had her phone out and was taking pictures and chattering happily to Sonya at a mile a minute.  Sylph, on the other hand, seemed to nearly withdraw into herself and, as the sidewalk became more crowded, pulled in as if she was trying to disappear.

Sonya contented herself with pointing out the one or two displays that Tetsuko seemed about to miss, finally pointing at a discreet restaurant hidden behind a patio with covered tables.  A neat, hand-written sign named it ‘Vincenzo’s’ and declared it to be the home of ‘Vinnie’s World Famous 3-lb Cilantro Porterhouse and Rosemary Potatoes.”  Another, smaller sign also mentioned that they brewed their own beer and served fresh ice cream, made on the immediate premises.  A number of people had already started filling in the empty seats both inside the restaurant and on the patio, and a surprising number of heavyset men in black trousers and t-shirts seemed to be involved in moving a variety of electrical devices around what appeared to be a makeshift stage near the entrance.  “There,” Sonya declared, “that’s dinner.  I’m paying and I’m hungry.  Let’s go eat.”

“I want to see you try and get through one of those!” Tetsuko grinned, pointing at the special on the sign.  

Sonya laughed.  “You’ll be helping, Tet-chan,” she declared, steering the taller woman into the entrance.  Sylph trailed behind, self-consciously squeezing her shoulders to fit through the doorframe and struggling to avoid bashing aside tables and chairs purely by her casual passage in the crowded restaurant.

After seating themselves- Sylph crouched over a wrought-iron chair, taking most of her weight on her knees to prevent herself from smashing the seat flat- Sonya signaled the waiter.  They ordered two plates of the special, an iced tea for Sonya, a Sprite for Tetsuko, and a diet Dr. Pepper for Sylph.  Tetsuko raised an eyebrow, looking at the gigantic woman.  “Diet?” she teased, “do you really think it’ll make a difference?”

“Well, it probably won’t help for weight loss,” Sylph admitted, “but then, I probably don’t have to worry about that as much as you do.”

Sonya’s hand and worried expression were the only things that kept Tetsuko from launching herself across the table.  Instead, she settled on commenting with brittle cheerfulness, “I suppose there’s no point in someone like you trying to control your weight, huh?  It’s not like you’ll ever fit in to normal clothes.”

Sonya grimaced and spoke up before either of her companions could continue.  “Tetsuko.  That was unkind.”  Sylph subsided without rejoinder, while Tetsuko looked only slightly abashed at the gentle reproach.  The waiter approached their table with their trays and, with the assistance of another minion pressed into immediate service, laid the feast in front of the women.

They passed the meal in strained civility, both Tetsuko and Sylph maintaining their good manners only out of their mutual respect for Sonya.  Finally, Sonya had enough.  She rose from her place and smiled demurely at the girls.  “I have to use the ladies room,” she explained, “Tet-chan- will you come with me?”

Sylph started in on her rosemary potatoes as the two friends departed for the back of the restaurant.  As they stepped into the ladies room, Sonya stepped to the side and crossed her arms under her buxom chest.  “All right, Tetsuko, explain it to me.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so venomous to another person.  I'd have thought you two would hit it off, sharing so much in common.  Why are you so angry with Sylph?”

Tetsuko bristled; addressing her by her full name instead of the affectionate "Tet-chan" usually meant Sonya was upset with her.  “Isn’t it obvious, Sonya?  She’s not natural!  She’s got to be working for Slade.  You were right- he’s setting us up!”

Sonya shook her head.  “I met her months ago- before any of this was even on the horizon, and she was huge even then.  She’d just rescued a whole bunch of people from being injured in a potentially disastrous construction accident.  It isn’t that I don’t think Slade could be manipulating things from behind the scenes,” she mused, “I just don’t think that Sylph is in on it.”

Tetsuko pursed her lips thoughtfully.  “So you think I ought to give her a chance to prove she’s not malicious, just stupid?”

Sonya rolled her eyes.  Something about Sylph obviously rubbed her younger friend the wrong way.  This hostility was unusual for her and she began to wonder if maybe Tetsuko wasn’t feeling a little insecure in the larger girl’s presence.  “Say ‘misguided,’” she advised.  “Remember, we had no reason to suspect Slade’s involvement except for his prior involvement with us.  Why don’t you try taking her to the gym or something- you can do a little training with her, get a feeling for who she is and what she’s capable of?”

The blonde girl snorted, flaring her nostrils slightly, but considered the idea.  “I’ll think about it,” she said at last, nodding curtly.

“That’s all I ask,” Sonya sighed.


At first Sylph didn’t really know what to make of the gigantic weight room and gymnasium that Ralf drove them to.  FOY Media had purchased a warehouse in downtown Vegas and spent considerable time and money in restoring and refurbishing it.  They’d toughened load-bearing walls with metal beams and reinforced concrete; the floor, although padded and carpeted, imparted that sense of immense weight and density that Sylph had learned to recognize in the very few extremely well-crafted buildings that she’d encountered in her life.  Most things that she stood on gave slightly under her weight- even cement sidewalks, cobbled paths and concrete roads; the building materials all compressed slightly under her densely-packed weight.  The floor underneath the padding, however, did not.  Sylph’s eyebrows shot up appreciatively and she began looking around the room.

She was surprised to see so many familiar devices.  Free weights, certainly, and those in denominations that any normal bodybuilder would have deemed preposterous- the smallest weight was one hundred pounds and the plates only went up from there- but also machines that simply were not to be found in normal weight rooms.  She recognized several as variants- improvements, really- on designs her father and mother had created years ago.  She wondered idly how much her parents were being paid for their designs, if anything.  A small touchpad at each station connected the machines through a series of industrial cables and computers to huge diesel engines designed to produce the load.  Sylph guessed that each engine could easily produce fifty tons of force even before you took into account the multiplying effects of the block-and-tackle contraptions.

It was quite obvious to her that this room, although new, saw regular use.  Several of the weight stations still had their loads on the machines- moderately heavy loads for a normal person, although not even enough weight for Sylph to really register- and the laundry basket in the corner had several white towels in it waiting to be laundered.  Glancing about idly, Sylph noticed that the bench bar had been loaded up until the bar was bending slightly under the weight.  Looking closer, she realized that the plates were not the usual forty-five pounders that she often saw; these looked nearly twice as thick and appeared to be covered with some sort of durable ceramic shell.  The numbers on the sides of the smallest plates were simply 1k.  The larger plates- there were six on each side- read 2k.  Sylph wandered over to the station and gently tested the heavily laden bar.  The weight was enormous.  She turned to Ralf.  “How?” she muttered, gesturing.

Ralf grinned hugely.  “HSI has spent quite a bit on the research and development of new space-age metals.  The super dense core of those plates is highly radioactive, but it is covered in a thin layer of lead.  That, in turn, is encased in specially hardened ceramic to prevent the coating from getting weak or wearing away.  The end result is that you have plates weighing half a ton or more”

Tetsuko snorted.  “That’s got to cost a pretty penny,” she commented.

“Oh, it does,” Ralf conceded.  “FOY Media would probably not be able to afford even one of these plates if HSI hadn’t helped both to develop them and then donated the results to this project.  This weight room is donated entirely by the bigwigs at the top of HS Industries.”

“How… generous,” Tetsuko murmured.  She looked suspiciously at the thicker, more muscular girl standing next to her.  “Well, since we’re here, we might as well see about a workout, right?  Why don’t you set up and Ralf and I can be your spotters.”

Sylph nodded absently and ambled over to the bench.  It had been a long time since she’d actually used a real weight bench- most benches collapsed under her weight.  Even so, she remembered the techniques and she lay herself down gingerly under the massive bar.  She figured it to be loaded with close to twenty tons- assuming the numbers on the plates were actually genuine- but the way her strength had been increasing lately, this barely qualified as a warm up weight.

She wrapped her fingers gently around the bar and slowly, steadily, pressed up against the weight.  It came off the rests smoothly, supported entirely by Sylph’s powerful arms.  “They weren’t lying,” she hissed as she lowered it to her chest, “this really feels like about twenty tons.”

Ralf started to move closer, fascinated by the symphony of gigantic muscles dancing just underneath Sylph’s pale skin, but Tetsuko held out an arm, as immovable as a steel girder, and pushed him gently back.  “That’s a lot of weight, Ralf- if she drops it, it’d probably squash you flat.”

Sylph almost giggled at that.  “I’m not going to drop it- it’s not really that much…”  After a dozen reps or so, she racked the weight and sat up.  “Your turn, Tetsuko- can you handle this much?  Or should I take a couple plates off for you?”

The tall blonde raised an eyebrow and curled her lip in a curious half-smile.  “I think I’ll try it with your load, if you don’t mind,” she answered.  In truth, this weight was ridiculously light to her, but she wasn’t about to let this other girl- this strange, unbelievably hypertrophied woman- know the true extent of her power.

Trading places with Sylph, Tetsuko placed her hands on the bar.  She was surprised at how thick the bar actually was- it was deceptive because of the size of the plates loaded on either side.  Her hands couldn’t wrap all the way around the bar and she had to resist the urge to crush the bar in her grip to make it fit more comfortably in the palms of her hands.  If what Ralf had told them was true, damaging the equipment could have truly disastrous consequences.


Wade found Khalida just getting out of the Olympic-sized swimming pool on the ground floor.  Not unusually, she had drawn a crowd of observers, both men and women, who were staring as surreptitiously as they knew how.  She tossed her hair back and strode over to the beach chair where she’d left her towel.  Wade beat her to it and picked up the towel- a white Warner Bros towel featuring Marvin the Martian- and held it open for her.  She dimpled when she spotted him and fairly melted into the thick terrycloth, letting him enfold her sleekly muscled physique with the towel and his long, wiry arms.

“Hiya, Wade,” Kali grinned at the older boy, “I thought you were heading out with Ralf and the girls.”

“Nah,” he demurred, “I thought I’d take the opportunity to see if you wanted to get some dinner and maybe check out the strip a bit before bedtime…”

Khalida had had a crush on Wade since they’d attended school together growing up as children in the same small Nebraskan town.  Despite that, it had taken them until they were both in school at NYU and a chance meeting in Sylph’s dorm room in the basement of Kensington Hall for them to really become friends.  “Mm,” she purred, “that sounds good.”

“Great- why don’t you grab a quick change and I’ll pick you up in, say…”

“Fifteen minutes,” she answered decisively.  And don’t plan on getting back for an early evening, either, pretty boy!

Khalida dashed back to her room and rummaged quickly through her drawers.  She had been planning on saving her gold dress for sitting in the audience at Sylph’s show, but she wasn’t about to let this opportunity get away.  She shimmied into the gown, the shiny fabric clinging to her curves like a perfectly radiant sunset, her dark hair bound into a loose braid that hung over her shoulder.  She was stunning and she knew it- she just hoped that Wade knew it too.

Just shy of fifteen minutes, she opened the door.  Wade was standing there, fist upraised to knock.  As she opened the door, he let his hand fall.  He stood there for a moment, swallowing.  He wore a black tuxedo with a vest.  Recovering quickly, he held out his hand.  His blue eyes danced.  “Well, then,” he said, “shall we?”

Kali nodded and took his arm and he led them out into the warm Vegas night.  Wade glanced up and down the street, then held up his hand.  Almost immediately, a black sedan pulled up next to them.  A grizzled black man in a jacket and tie got out of the drivers seat and hustled around to the side of the car.  “Thomas party, right?  Pleased to meet you- I’ll be your driver this evening.  I’m Francis.”  He opened the door and allowed them to get into the car.  Kali glanced at Wade and saw that he was beaming from ear to ear.

Francis closed the door after them and hurried back around to the driver’s side.  “Mr. Thomas, Miss Matsoukis- please relax and enjoy the ride.  Mr. Slade heard of your plans from the maître d’ and left instructions that I was to make certain that you had a truly memorable evening. Please be sure to let me know if there is anything- anything at all- that you desire.”

“Thank you, Francis,” Wade answered cheerfully, “just dinner for now- The Tillerman, if you would.”

“An excellent choice, sir.  I’ll have you there directly.”


Tetsuko was impressed with how much the girl could lift- she didn’t appear to be as strong as Tetsuko, herself, but she was still lifting weights far in excess of what any normal human could have achieved.  More worrying, though, was the way she moved.  Tetsuko had been vaguely aware of it from the moment she saw her, but here, in the gym, it was suddenly clear.  Sylph moved with the poise and grace of a trained athlete- a dancer and a martial artist, someone who knew how her body worked and was comfortable and at home in her own skin.  Tetsuko knew that walk, that grace- she had it herself- but Sylph seemed to almost radiate control from every pore of her body.  It was, in a word, unsettling.

Sylph stepped away from the strange machine she’d been using- some sort of cable-fly device using thick, braided-metal cables hooked up to a pair of powerful diesel engines- and gestured to Tetsuko.  She was panting slightly and her pale skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat.  Tetsuko glanced at the readout on the resistance display.  It read one hundred sixty tons.  “Your… turn…” Sylph gasped when she found her voice.

Tetsuko nodded and ran a finger lightly over the grips.  She looked around the room.  Ralf was lounging in a corner; he’d been watching with fascination as the two girls lifted heavier and heavier weights throughout the evening, but it was getting close to two solid hours now, and he was clearly starting to feel fatigued.  One more test, she thought.

“Nah,” Tetsuko said, “I’ll let you have that one.  There is one ‘exercise’ station we haven’t hit, though…”  She pointed.

The table she pointed to seemed to have been grown directly from the floor.  There was no seam, just a solid-looking pillar that connected the low, flat top of the table to the only part of the floor barren of carpeting.  Thick metal stirrups were positioned on either side of the table, clearly intended for the girls to secure their feet with.  The chairs- stools, really- were of the same odd construction as the floor and included a thick metal seat belt.  Sylph raised an eyebrow at Tetsuko.

“Armwrestling,” the blonde explained.  “Come on- you oughtta be good at it.”

“Yeah,” Sylph said doubtfully, “sure.”

They sat down opposite each other and Ralf came over to officiate.  “Well, ladies, let me say how happy I am that I can help you with this match.  As I’m sure you both know, I used to be the ultra-super flyweight armwrestling champion of the world…” he held his arms and cocked them into a double biceps pose, then shifted quickly to a side chest pose, his slender arms and body looking absurdly frail next to the enormous mass of the women in front of him.  Tetsuko giggled, but Ralf quickly continued.  “Unfortunately, my career was cut tragically short by an accident involving an angry bull, Eric Bana, an elastic hair-tie and my pinkie.

“Anyways, it gives me great pleasure to stand in as your referee this evening; I want a good clean match.  No eye-gouging, no biting, no snide remarks about each other’s hair.  As this is an upper body competition, I, ah, encourage you to remove your shirts to avoid any potential damage…”  Sylph snorted at that, but neither girl moved to strip down, much to Ralf’s disappointment.

Tetsuko had expected Sylph to be strong, but the girl’s grip was still nearly breathtaking.  She wondered if even Sylph truly realized how strong she was.  She matched the grip, then let off a little bit- no sense showing my cards just yet, she decided.

“Get ready.”  Tetsuko felt Sylph’s grip tighten slightly, then relax.

“Get set.”  She took a deep breath, preparing herself mentally.

“Go!”  Tetsuko almost wasn’t ready for the enormous pressure Sylph brought to bear.  The crushing force was as much as she could remember ever feeling with one exception.  She leaned into it and brought their arms to a halt.  The air seemed almost to shimmer between the two girls, the energy they were expending so great that the air was literally heating up by degrees.  The blood rushed into Sylph’s pale arm, turning her nearly-white skin pink as it brought much-needed oxygen to her starving muscles.

Tetsuko stared at Sylph’s face.  Sylph’s eyes were shut and her teeth were ground together in determination.  The strain on her arm kept increasing, although Tetsuko had been sure that the big woman was giving her utmost when she started.  She was sure, in fact, that Sylph had been doing her absolute best earlier when she was benching, curling, and squatting literally hundreds of tons of weight.  Now she was putting more power into this single arm than she had managed all day previously, and her power seemed to be growing.

Sylph’s face was turning red as she strained harder than she ever had before.  The blood pounded in her forehead and sweat broke out anew on her forehead.  Thick veins made their presence know on the split heads of her biceps and ran over her chest, up her neck and along her face.

“Give…up…” Tetsuko gritted.  She knew she could put far more strength into this contest, but Sylph, finally, appeared to be reaching her limit.  She hoped.

“N-n-never!” Sylph cried.  Tears of pain and frustration dripped down her cheeks onto the table.  She’d never fought this hard before- not even when she’d defeated Stack Martenson- but she thought she felt herself gaining a slight advantage.  She bore down and felt the smaller woman’s wrist turn slightly underneath her grip.

Tetsuko could feel that Sylph’s grip was actually starting to weaken now.  She could beat her, she was certain, but it wasn’t necessary.  Instead, without releasing much force, she allowed her wrist to be bent back slightly, giving Sylph the advantage.  Come on, girl, she was surprised to hear herself thinking, just a little more.  You can do it!

When the break finally came, it wasn’t gentle like it had been with Stack.  Sylph felt the arm suddenly go limp and, before she could stop it, her arm had powered down with all of her considerable strength and weight behind it.  The sound of Tetsuko’s arm hitting the table was almost absurdly quiet, all things considered- a soft, sharp crack and a sound of pottery bouncing on concrete as the end of the table snapped off in accordance to immutable laws of physics.  She let go of Tetsuko’s hand instantly, shock draining the color from her face.

“Oh my God!  Are you okay?” she asked.

Tetsuko grimaced and shook out her arm.  “I’m fine,” she said shortly.  “Nothing broken, anyways.”  She’d let the girl win.  At the last moment, she’d decided that she wanted to see how she reacted if she won, not if she lost.  Now she wasn’t sure what to think.

“Ah, the heck with it,” she said finally, “I’m tired.  Let’s go home.”


Ralf and Sylph left Tetsuko back at her room in the Four Seasons, then took the stairs to Sylph’s suite.  Opening the door, it was immediately apparent that Khalida was elsewhere- a note taped to the television advised Sylph not to wait up for her.  Ralf noticed the big girl looking hesitantly- apprehensively- into the large room.  It took him a moment to recognize the signs, and he was deeply surprised when he did; Sylph actually appeared to be scared.
“Is everything okay?” he asked solicitously.  He couldn’t imagine what she was seeing that had her on edge.  What he could see of the room around her massive bulk appeared perfectly innocuous.

She glanced at him shyly over one rock-hard shoulder and twitched her lips in a faint smile.  “I- ah- I don’t like being alone in strange places,” she murmured.

Ralf digested that slowly for a moment.  “Well,” he offered slowly, “I could sit up with you till your friend gets back if you like.  Maybe I can find a way to take your mind off your uneasiness for a while.”

She grinned her relief.  “Sure,” she agreed happily.  “Actually, I could really use a backrub after that workout…”

Ralf laughed and cracked his long fingers.  “Whatever milady desires.”

Sylph glanced around the large room and quickly shoved the sofa out of the way so that she had an unobstructed piece of the floor to stretch out on.  She glanced at Ralf again and hesitantly peeled off her straining shirt.  Underneath she wore a custom-made bra, the satin material expertly stitched together and then joined through the sides with a soft leather cord to give her massive chest room to expand.  She lay down on the floor and stretched her arms up over her head.

Ralf swallowed.  She was significantly shorter than him, but he doubted that he would be able to comfortably straddle her waist in order to get into a good position to massage her even so.  She apparently guessed his apprehension, because she giggled and told him to just kneel on her back.  “It’s not like you’re in any danger of hurting me, really.”

Ralf had to admit that was true and so he knelt down and began probing her delts, starting on one side and slowly working his way across the vast expanse of her back to the other side.  He was surprised as his fingers were able to find purchase and press into the densely packed fibers.  It was as if, relaxed, her shoulders were hard, but not the nearly steel-like consistency that he was certain she could attain with the slightest flex of her body.

He pressed harder into her back, leaning his full weight into his arms and fingers and eliciting a purr of contentment from the girl he knelt upon.  “That feels really good,” she grunted muzzily.  Ralf chuckled and continued to apply push as hard as he could against her.  A slight shift of her neck resulted in tectonic activity that nearly dislodged the young man, but Sylph quickly settled again.

“I don’t know how long I can keep this up,” Ralf admitted; his forearms were already starting to cramp up from the unaccustomed strain he was putting on them.  Sylph’s breath lifted Ralf several inches before she answered.

“Mm.  S’okay.  I feel pr-pretty…” she yawned hugely at this point, then blushed as she continued, “pretty good, really.  Just tired.”

“Oh.  Ah, sorry,” Ralf excused himself, slightly alarmed, “ah, should I go?”

“N-no,” Sylph replied, “please don’t.  Just… just stay close, okay?



Ralf woke up to discover that his head was propped- wedged, really- between Sylph’s enormous chest and the swell of her biceps.  Her other arm reached over his body and very gently propped her body up so that her weight didn’t crush him.  The gentle rhythm of her breathing slowly lifted and lowered Ralf’s body, not unlike being aboard a boat on gentle seas.  With a start he realized that she was still sleeping.

Ralf carefully slid from under Sylph’s massive arm- fortunately there was sufficient room for him to duck out, because her arm was far too heavy for him to shift by himself- as he heard the sound of a key in the lock.  He hadn’t intended to stay so long, he realized; he had planned to leave as soon as Khalida returned.  He went to the door and slid it open, yawning.  Khalida stood in the doorway, keys in hand.

She pursed her lips in mild disapproval.  “And what exactly are you doing here at this time of night?”

Ralf shrugged.  “Morning, actually,” he corrected.  He went over and tried to shake Sylph gently to wake her up.  He might as well have tried to uproot an oak with his fingertips for all the good it did.  “Sylph,” he whispered gently, “Kali’s back.”

She grunted lightly and turned her head, her eyes still tightly closed.

Kali watched the byplay with mild amusement until she finally got impatient and strode over.  “Here,” she said, gently but firmly shoving Ralf to one side, “let me try.”

She positioned herself next to Sylph’s broad shoulder and roughly shook her hard enough that the transferred force caused the floor to creak as the joists underneath them were put under enormous strain.  “Sylph!” she barked, and was rewarded with a low moan and a light fluttering of pale green eyes.

“Whuh?” the giant girl muttered, then seemed to come fully awake.  “Oh, hi Kali.  How was your date?”

Kali wrinkled her nose.  “We got rained out and ended up sitting in a Denny’s drinking coffee until they kicked us out,” she explained.  “Not so great, really.”

Sylph cooed sympathetically.  “That sucks.”

Kali shrugged.  “Eh.  I think Wade’s more into you, anyway.  I had to try, though, right?”

Ralf saw the color rise to Sylph’s cheeks.  Apparently those feelings were more than a little bit mutual, he guessed.  Damn, he thought, my loss.
A VERY special thanks to :icondcmatthews: for this one. This piece took a shamefully long time for me to write (can you believe the last thing I wrote was 11 months ago?)

Before I go any further, I need to say:
Tetsuko Breckinridge, Sonya Gannon, and Hamilton Slade are all (c) :icondcmatthews:
Ralf is mine, but the inspiration (and much of the dialogue) was :iconrefaal:

I also want to thank both :icondcmatthews: and :iconrefaal: for their patience and frequent aid in getting me refocused when I got stuck. This story would never have been completed without them.

As for who really deserves the blame, well, I think that belongs to :iconjimmydimples: and cpbell0033944 over at some time ago, this thread ([link]) appeared and the two of them expressed an interest in seeing how Sylph and/or Tetsuko might do...

This, obviously, is the result. I hope you all enjoy!

ONE LAST NOTE: Thanks to :iconrefaal: for the picture of Sylph I'm using to preview this story.
Add a Comment:
enus23 Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2015
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2015
My initial thought on reading this was that you were being unconscionably rude.  Would you care to elaborate?
enus23 Featured By Owner Jan 22, 2015
no I was shocked
RinjiPantera Featured By Owner May 17, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Holy cow, that was a long chapter! I must say though, I kept really expecting to see Sylph outright confront Tetsuko about her apparent hostility to her. It just seems like that question needs to be answered, that Sylph has nothing to do with Slade.

I'll admit, I actually hoped Sylph would win against her in the arm wrestling match. But for Tetsuko to apparently let her win just took all the satisfaction out of it. You certainly made Tetsuko a bit of a bitch there, I must say.

Another thing I kept expecting to happen was Sylph breaking down over said hostilities. As powerful as she is, she seems kind of frail emotionally. I don't mean that as a bad thing. To each their own I guess.

I do kind of hope that Sylph finds someone who falls for her and vice versa. Maybe Ralf is that person? Great chapter, though some parts could've been better.
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner May 17, 2011
You ain't kidding. This chapter ended up in three parts because I literally couldn't post it in full on dA. That said, the armwrestling was less about a true contest of physical strength (Tetsuko's much stronger than her- think exponentially) and more a test of personalities and willpower. And, as was pointed out, the results surprised both of them...

Sylph's pretty tough, actually- I couldn't imagine living your entire life being as, quite frankly, freakish as she is and not having learned to cope with hostility. Since she's not a psychopath, it follows that she's pretty centered when you get right down to it. That doesn't mean she's a total pushover, just that she can, sometimes, be a lot tougher than you'd otherwise expect.

As for Ralf, well... I'll let you finish the story, first.
Fellania-BloodClaw Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Bravissimo! Very well done even though I don't think Tet-chan would really have a hating bone in her body for anyone but Hamilton. Thank you for sharing :)
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009
You've got to read through the whole thing :D

But you're basically right- Tet-chan really doesn't have any sort of hatred for Sylph (and didn't), but she was deeply suspicious of her. Beyond that, everybody has moments when they're not at their best emotionally- even superheroes...

Thanks for the look!
Fellania-BloodClaw Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Silly I read the whole thing I was just commenting on the very un Tet-chan moment of trading barbs with made me snicker...

p.s. I'm workin on a new story right now. It's something I think everyone will at least get a laugh and femmuscle fix :)
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009
I'll look forward to it. :D

Hope you enjoy the rest of the story, too...
DavidCMatthews Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009  Professional General Artist
Oh, don't forget, Hamilton Slade is also © me.

I really enjoyed this story, and I think everyone who liked this part will love the next part!
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009
That's true- I will amend the author's notes.
refaal Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2009
Oh yeah, i hope, I HOPE you didnt forget that :iconrefaal: is © :iconrefaal:;

Otherwise, Ill have to seek legal assistance and call my attorney, :iconrefaal: whos ALSO © :iconrefaal:.

You better stay legal man, or else you're gonna get PWNT*.

*catchphrase © :iconrefaal:.
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2009
:iconstmercy2020: just wanted to see howmany times :iconstmercy2020: could put the :iconrefaal: into his artist comments... :D

Naturally, :iconstmercy2020: would never deny that :iconrefaal: has full ownership of himself and all likenesses thereof.

Is it possible to (c) a human being? :iconstmercy2020: will leave that to :iconrefaal:'s attorney, :iconrefaal:.
MyNameIsNotRelevant Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009
Bravo! :D
stmercy2020 Featured By Owner Jan 14, 2009
Thank you, thank you {bows deeply}
Add a Comment:

:iconstmercy2020: More from stmercy2020

Featured in Collections

Muscle Stories by AdMeyer

Stories by Kyotaro-Oro

More from DeviantArt


Submitted on
January 13, 2009
File Size
67.1 KB
Mature Content


28 (who?)


Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.