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Bitten by the Queen – Chapters 8-10

Written by lowerbase :: [Tuesday, 06 June 2017 00:51] Last updated by :: [Tuesday, 06 June 2017 09:04]

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Chapter 8: Short Fuse

After my third glass of water that morning, I took enough courage to start cleaning the kitchen and the tables outside, picking the empty beer cans into a plastic bag, still surprised at how much Cindy was able to drink. More than me, no doubt. Nearly two packs by herself. The crushed cans on the ground showed the pressure of her fingers. Some of it, she casually folded and folded like playing with a sheet of paper until it was the size of a coin, something out of a hydraulic press.

Around the trash, I found the broken two butcher knives. Cindy could slice a small tree trunk like a carrot. She had more strength in one arm than all of us in that house put together. Watching this stuff on TV always felt unreal, sensationalized reports, but living with a girl like this, and still growing, I could see that the media played down what these women were capable of doing. Unsettling to see the unreal becoming real.

Thankfully, we lived in a civilized society, and those super girls didn’t bring down the government, or the army, yet.

As I swept the flour from the table, Cindy walked in all sweaty in her workout clothes; the two packs of beer had no effect on her, as far as I could see, she had no hangover like the one I was having.

“Hi …” I said. We both were still uncomfortable after what happened last night. She just nodded ‘hi’ back opening the fridge. Cindy drunk the freezing water and spreading some of it on her face and neck. It was a hot day.

Her legs all pumped, “jogging?” I asked to break the ice.

“Yeah, I need to bring down these a bit …” she adjusted her too tight top over her chest, one that compressed her large breasts the most, to keep them from bouncing around. “They are getting cumbersome … and I can’t stand listening to those girls talking on my back, guys catcalling everywhere I go. I don’t want to punch anyone. More five runs I might bring them down a bit. They are more like reserves of energy, you know. But this too much energy is getting redundant,” she said hefting those pornstar assets, nonchalant like I was some roommate of hers.

“I was rhetorical, Cindy, I don’t need all the details.”

“Oh, so sorry that I don’t have any friends to talk.” She sat on the bench looking at the dirty floor, suddenly all-miserable, again.

“You used to have a gang, where are they?”

“They became so … childish. Acting as I outgrew them. Or that I’m always showing off, that I’m above them. They can’t even speak when I’m around or look me at my eyes. Cosmo went into a total panic when I lifted him up once, so freaking weird, so awkward, I was just goofing around. He never spoke to me again, like Freddy. They must hate me.”

So freaking weird was last night, Cindy, I wished to say. “Cindy … have you looked in the mirror recently? These guys are probably beating off on you every day. It is not that they hate you … they probably have some conflicted emotions.” She didn’t answer to that. She kept watching the blender working her protein shake, deep in her thoughts. Maybe thinking about what I’ve just said. “Am I hot?” Cindy suddenly asked, when the blender stop.

I watched her clueless face, “it is not for me to say, okay? How about those guys at school that used to avoid you and now are after you? Doesn’t that tell you enough?”

“That’s because I’m thin. Because I developed these,” she eyed her bigger breasts.

“You are not thin. Not anymore. You look like that could beat any guy at school.”

“I can beat any guy in school.” She flexed her arm, showing a bicep that most guys didn’t have, with the strength to crush walnuts with a finger pinch.

“You got tall, fit, powerful, and has all that boobage … you became every nerd’s wet dream. That’s why your gang can’t hold a thought near you. Isn’t that painfully obvious? Wake up.”

“But about my face? It got pretty too?”

“You are hot. Probably a top ten in the school. Or in the whole town. As far as can tell.” I said as I kept sweeping the floor and suddenly Cindy hugged me from behind pulling all the air from lungs, “that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me,” Cindy said hugging harder, lifting me from my feet, my arms compressed against my sides. “Actually, the nicest thing anyone ever said to me,” she said as I tried to breathe and managed to say, “ok, okay, settle down.”

“Sorry …” she said worried as my arms shifted to red. “Everyone treats differently, dad, mom, my friends, only you seem to act the same around this … new me.”

I guess that was a compliment. Life took us apart for too long, somehow we were able to reconnect, but I said to her, “but you need friends, Cindy. I’m not your girlfriend. Try to reach Cosmo, with baby steps you will have your gang back, talk to other girls.”

“Gosh … not after what you’ve said to me. It changes everything. I’m not interested in whatever they are thinking about me. Most girls hate me now, especially those I thought that were my friends,” she said looking at herself over a mirrored glass of the cabinet, acknowledging her enhanced beauty. Yeah, she had a point, being all awesome is not a guarantee to have friends. Sycophants, perhaps.

Watching me scrubbing the dishes, Cindy finally asked if she could help, on her way of helping, “don’t you want me to call Geoffrey to help you up out?”

“He went out … why don’t you help me?”

“I’ve made the pizzas. And why are you even cleaning the dishes so soon? To please me?” She finished the shake abandoning the tall glass over the table. I picked up that glass and put in the sink, flushing it, “it is not everything around you, Cindy. We’ll have a visit today. Thomas is coming.”

I looked at her, frozen in place, like she just saw a ghost, frozen, muted, not even blinking. “He’ll spend the day with us,” I completed while cleaning her glass. “He’ll bring more weed and some beer. We were talking about ordering some tacos, but since you are always starving, a barbecue sounded … Cindy?”

She vanished from my sight.

Cindy probably fled to her bedroom with her heart racing faster than any exercising on those muscly legs of hers. I’ve always noticed how she stared at him. Well, like most girls do to him. It was terrible to be his wingman. Any girl we meet stares at Thomas the way Cindy does, and laughing at his lame jokes, playing with their hair, biting their lips. For me, well, if I got Thomas by my side, every brilliant joke of mine, girls plainly ignored me. Really, I wasn’t ugly or anything, but I couldn’t compete with a tall, attractive, artsy, experienced, and full of confidence guy like Thomas. Nature is unfair by definition. But I digress, many men do the same with an attractive and confident girl.

Cindy was just another one of those girls dreaming day and night about making him boyfriend material, or maybe just lusting after him, who knows. Well, becoming hot, Cindy had a chance. She was so right.

Sometime later, Thomas parked his truck in our garage, and it was full of bags. Food and beer and several other things. I saw Cindy from her window watching us unloading the car, predictable as ever. Thomas turned to me, “hey man, I want you to read it,” he said giving me a hundred pages pile. It was another version of the same screenplay he was working for the last year. His baby. He wanted to make into Hollywood with it. Thomas was a bit delusional. “I changed the ending, cut some fat, added some more musculature to it … speaking of musculature, is she here?”

“Yeah, she’ll come down.”

“Nick, dude, I saw your sister latest photos on her feed …” He was so thirsty for her, but before he dwelled on it, I came to his ear, “she can hear us,” I said. He chuckled, “what?”

“Believe me. She can listen to everything at this distance, spooky.”

“She has x-ray vision too?”

“Not that I’m aware. Tom, you know what girls like Cindy are becoming, right?”

“I was thinking of adding a character like her to the story, what do you think? My uncle said that some studios are looking after these super girls. It is a hot topic.” He wasn’t listening, and I knew that Cindy was.

Inside my home, we heard above us, “hey guys”, and Cindy was there walking down the stairs like a school princess from an 80s movie, and for the first time in her life, in high heels. Short shorts, a black top displaying her abs and most of her breasts, and those sandals made those muscles in her legs to bulge; they seemed longer than ever. We both watched Thomas’s reaction, “Cindy …”

“I changed a little …” A little. She belonged to a sports magazine cover. Cindy came down those steps swinging her hips like I never saw she doing before, but on the last step, her inexperience with those heels made her to fall tumbling into his arms, and they gave a long gaze to each other, “are you okay?” He asked, helping her to get on her feet. On those shoes, she towered over me, and nearly reached Thomas’s height. “Wow,” he said. She got embarrassed for a moment, looking cuter than ever.

Thomas pointed to her muscular arm, “are those real?” and she hid them around her back.

“I’m a bit strong …”

“Let me see it.”

“I don’t know …”

“C’mon, flex them.”

She looked at me with uncertainty. I stupidly nodded her to do it. Cindy brought her arm to flex without much enthusiasm, not flexing them for real. “They look real good on you,” Thomas said.

Her eyes went wide, “do you think so?”

“Yeah, can I feel them?”

I interrupted them, “I going to leave these in the fridge,” taking the bags with beers from Thomas’s hands. They didn’t acknowledge me. As usual with Thomas, I could hear the girl giggling behind my back, I needed the girl drunk to get on that same stage with me. Fuck Thomas.

After I had loaded the fridge, I was suddenly alone. “That was fast,” I said to myself.

I opened a beer and started to roll a joint. A fat one. Trying not to think what was happening upstairs. I had his screenplay over the table. I didn’t want to read it. Because fuck Thomas. Cindy probably would read it in minutes to please him. After all, he never listened to what I had to say, he just wanted assurance, validation, for me to say, ‘good job’ with two thumbs up.

A couple of hours later, I fired the grill. We had enough meat to feed a platoon. Soon, just the smoke, the smell of barbecue would bring Cindy down faster than Christmas presents. I knew she hadn’t eaten yet. She left half of her protein shake on the blender once she heard Thomas was coming.

As expected, Cindy, her hair wet from a shower, jumped the stairs, I mean, literally jumped the stairs, all ten steps, with Thomas behind her slowly, step by step, carrying her shoes in his hands. He was walking funny.

“Is it done?” She asked?

“It is raw,” I said.

She took the beef from the grill and put on a plate. It made no difference that it wasn’t ready. She cut piece after piece barely chewing it.

“Hey,” I gave Thomas a beer, he seemed to be in pain. He took some ice from the fridge and put into a plastic bag. “Are you alright?” He just nodded yes and went by her side on the outside table, sitting uncomfortably, and put the bag over his crotch. I asked no more.

I could see she was overly happy, humming some tune as she ate chunk after chunk, happy like I’ve not seen in years. He turned to me, “so, have you read it? Is it better?” He asked about the paper over the table, “yeah …” I said.

“You haven’t read it!”

“I’ll read it later, okay?”

“I can give you some notes,” Cindy said with her mouth full. “If you want.” I put two more slabs on the grill, as she finished the second one, and kept talking with her mouth full, “I’ve read some screenplay books, Syd Field, Snider, Flynn, Cole Haag, McKey …”

“McKey?” Thomas asked. I bet he never heard half of those names. He turned to me, “You never told me that your sister was into movies.” She wasn’t, Cindy must have overheard me talking with Thomas, and then googled and read all popular screenwriting books in a week just to impress him. I knew her too well.

“I’m totally into movies,” she said defensively, “what are your favorites?”

Thomas watched her eating so fast, maybe surprised, or perhaps a little appalled. “Too many to list.” Like any other girl, Thomas didn’t want them messing with his ‘artistic vision’, he just wanted to be adored by them, not to be questioned by them. “Those books must be great, but I don’t believe in formulaic assessments. Anyone can read a book. I want to make something new, something fresh … thanks, anyway.” Cindy raised her eyebrows at that, Thomas just don’t notice how arrogant he sounds sometimes, and he can make things worse: “But you can be my muse instead,” and he touched her hair, putting it behind her ear, patronizing her.

With any other guy, that would be the last straw, but that any other guy wasn’t as handsome and charming as Thomas. “Okay,” she said meekly, acknowledging her place by his side. It was odd watching this tiger unexpectedly toothless; I guess Cindy could sense how easily that sudden relationship could just vanish. Making girls feeling insecure was Thomas’s specialty.

At times, Cindy would notice him glancing at her arms and she would subtlety flex them. He stroked them with wonder. After fucking with all the hottest girls in school, Thomas finally found something different and new. It made her all too happy, so everything was an excuse for her to flex some body part to watch his reaction, unable to hide her smiling at that. He would ask her to bring some beer and then watched her butt sashaying in those heels. I shouldn’t be the best person to evaluate my sister’s new ass, but damn, it was round and firm like no other, pure muscle, I imagined. Thomas was drooling on the hammock, still holding a bag of ice down there. That butt made Cindy more feminine than she suspected. Obliviously sexy.

She still had some trouble with those shoes, nearly falling and spilling those beers, but she was now a fast learner. Cindy learned driving with a stick going to the supermarket, something that she was unable within months of frustrated attempts. Everything was increasingly easier to her, mundane, if not, boring. If her relationship with my arrogant dear friend endures, it would be the social experiment of our times, and time would tell what would fall first, his arrogance or her pride.

For the time, he let her to toy with him, grabbing him, holding him in her arms, not letting him go, and was becoming uncomfortable for me to watch them. They acted like kids, playfully testing each other strength, and of course, she should win by a large margin, but she was letting him win so that he could make out with her. How cute.

Then, we heard the front door opening, and lightning fast I hid the weed from the table, but it was just Geoffrey. “Hey, pal, we have food in here,” I yelled at him.

“I’m alright.” He mumbled leaving his bag and his skate by the door. Cindy and I looked at each other, and she stood up from Thomas’s embrace. “Something is not all right,” Cindy said walking down to our brother, and before he reached the stairs, Cindy grabbed his arm and brought his face to hers, he had a black eye. “Who did this,” she asked aloud.

“I fell. Leave me alone.” Of course, he tried to push back his arm, and she didn’t let him go. Her voice went sterner, and lower, “who gave you that,” demanding an answer, bringing him closer with her grip. Geoffrey was startled for a moment of how suddenly towering she was. “Are you wearing mom’s shoes?”

“Those are mine … don’t change the subject. Who hurt you?”

“It is not your business.” Suddenly Cindy lifted him from the floor, “I want names.”

That sight took Thomas aback; I guess he finally understood what he was messing with. “Cindy, that’s not helping,” I said, and surprisingly, she put him back on the floor, maybe because Thomas was in the vicinity.

On her high heels, she was more intimidating than ever, her shoulders alone were intimidating, but in those shoes, she was above six feet tall. Geoffrey saw himself cornered by her, and there was no way out. “It was Toro. He was making fun of me, and I pushed him. He knocked me out cold. Can I get some ice now?”

“Why he was making fun of you?”

“It was because of you, okay. Saying that you are turning to a guy and that I’ll …”

I saw her fist closing, forming veins around her forearm, “say it.”

“… suck your dick. Happy?” Shit. Geoffrey told her too much. Those idiots were dead.

I could sense the fumes coming out of her nostrils, “where are they?” She asked coldly. Geoffrey looked at me not knowing what to do, and she took him once more, lifting to the wall, her tight sleeves rolled back leaving her biceps naked, it would be scary for any boy, or even any man, “tell … me … now.”

Geoffrey mumbled, “the old skate park.” She turned to me, “go get ice for him. Take care of him.” She pushed him to me and took the stairs up, we all eyed each other, Thomas said, “she should totally beat their asses.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said following her. In her bedroom, she was in her running sneakers, shorts, and a black hoodie. I blocked her to talk her out of this, she pushed me away and went to my bedroom, opening my drawers full of old hardware and cables, “Cindy, what are you doing?” She took several wire ties from there, “Cindy, stop it.” She walked on me, and my body learned to step back when she did that. I bumped my back into the door as she got closer, her purple eyes a little higher than mine, “do I need to remember you to not get in my way?” She dared me to answer, and I said nothing. Cindy closed her hoodie around her head and went stairs down, fast.

When I got downstairs, she already had left. Thomas asked, “should we go after her?”

“We’ll never reach her on foot.”

“Let’s drive, then.”

He sat uncomfortably on the driver’s side. “are you alright down there?” I asked. “Your sister went a bit rough on me. She’s so fucking strong. And so fucking clumsy.”

“Dude, she was bitten. And a fucking virgin. This is what happens.”

“She almost broke my cock in two while humping me, dude. She’s pretty dominant for a … virgin.”

“Too much info, dude,” I said as we arrived at the old skate park, which was empty since there was a new bigger one across the river just opened. “She left her phone on her bed. Can you see her?”

“I don’t think she arrived yet,” he said. Thomas was still clueless about what she was capable. We got out of the truck, Thomas yelled her name, we only heard the wind and the water from the river. We spent some minutes searching for her, or Toro, anyone, and then we listened to a crash of a falling tree. “She’s there,” I said, and we went into the woods.

“She might be hurt.” Thomas wondered as we entered the small forest that went along the river.

“Anything might be hurt, not her,” I responded as we started to hear people crying at a distance. We walked slower finding the source, and we found a wrecked tree, three guys tied on each other around one oak, and Cindy standing there with her arms crossed, watching them crying for our help, yelling “she’s crazy.”

“I hope that there are no broken bones, Cindy,” I said. She didn’t change her stance. Her muscular legs were in full view, her hoodie still closed and tight over her shoulders and arms.

“Not yet,” she said, thinking about what to do next.

Thomas looked the fallen tree, not a big one, but it was broken in half, “What happened here?” Thomas asked trying to put two and two together.

One of those idiots started to yell, “she’s freaking insane!” Suddenly, a stone went razor sharp above his face, taking a chunk out of the tree with it, splattering wood around Toro’s fat body. “Forgot rule number one, dickless?” She said taking another stone and played with it, flexing her arm, the small stone cracked in half.

“Woah,” said Thomas, “do that again.”

Cindy gave a side smile at him and aimed at that same place once again, raining more wood over Toro’s head. We could ever hear the stone hissing back. “Holy fuck, that’s fucking awesome!” He said widening his eyes at her. Great, now Cindy would show off to him, and scare the shit of these idiots even more.

“How about … a bigger stone?” She went to a boulder, maybe of a hundred pounds, and tore it off the dirt. With it over her head, Cindy walked to the one called Toro, the burly bully that used to be in her class, used to torment her, it was personal.

Her hoodie was ripping around the sleeves and back. Toro started to beg her, while trying to break free, “please! I’ll leave your brother alone. I’m sorry.”

Thomas was thrilled of watching my sister doing her justice. “Will you suck my dick?” Cindy asked Toro as she let it drop over his head, “no, Cindy!” I yelled and I closed my eyes, looking the other way, but I haven’t heard any skull crushing, only Toro going into despair. When I opened my eyes, Cindy held the big stone an inch over his head, with a single hand, smiling at us. “Oh … shit …” Toro said when we noticed piss soaking his gray pants, making Cindy laughing out loud. She threw the big stone with a thud between his legs, making the ground to tremble, scaring the birds, and breaking another stone in half.

Thomas came behind her and was utterly amazed, caressing her arm, which she flexed, the head of that bicep, maybe fifteen or sixteen inches thick, widened the ripping of her ruined sleeve, and she kissed his mouth, right in front of those dejected crying idiots, humiliated by her.

It was for the best for them. Cindy changed her focus, leaving them alone, taking Thomas’ hands, probably to make out with Thomas nearby. “What about them?” I yelled at her, she turned back to me and eyed another small tree, with a kick she broke it down, and the canopy crashed inches before Toro and the other two, with a smile of triumph and a work well done on her face, she said to me, “you can release them, if you want,” before taking Thomas’s hands leading him deeper into the woods.

“Do you guys have a knife?” I asked politely to give them some dignity, and one of them pointed his defeated face to his hip, where I found a gangsta pocket knife. “Are you hurt?” He just stared down, not emitting a word, out of shame and not believing what he saw, like the other two. I released them from the tree, cutting the wire. They ran away from me without even asking the knife back. Still tied to each other. Idiots.

Looking at my surroundings, I had to convince Cindy to stop killing innocent trees.


Chapter 9: Under Control

Okay, I accept, it was all about Cindy.

Her growing unnatural strength is frightening yes, but for that, I was somewhat prepared. To be so strong was not such a big deal in the modern world, we don’t hunt, or fight each other to lead the tribe. I mean, there is a limit of what muscles alone can accomplish besides intimidating everyone.

Badly prepared I was for what her mind could do then. Just two days after the sex rounds with my best friend, Cindy came to my bedroom asking me to read something, her notes on Thomas’s script. She sat with her big legs by my side, making my spring bed to bounce me to the sides; it was abundantly clear she was heavier than me. Not just size, those muscles were denser than my flesh.

I recollected how fast those past few months went, and how much our lives changed because of a single bee. Where was Cindy? The sister I met since forever was a memory. Her bones lengthened, her limbs inflating with new muscle, her face perfected by a pinup artist. Why was I sweating? Was it because of her naked legs thrumming with unforgiving strength? Or just the danger to be around them, the unconscious fear of the destructive power they contained? Those curves shifting as she crossed her legs, the mechanical marvel of her moving musculature … was that rob my rational thoughts? Why doesn’t she wear a bra at home? There are days they were rounder, smoother, others, in pissy mood just like her, big torpedoes mode. It wasn’t just to annoy mom.

This assemble was a wrecking ball that knocked out any other thought, like a strike after strike, until there are no pins left, but her, holding the wrecking ball.

Her shoulder touched mine, I could not ignore the rock shaped arm pushing against my softer arm, my mind could not stop registering that I could see more muscles forming just on her forearm. As a she was getting bigger, those muscles began to separate, and each new muscle grabbed my attention just as her biceps alone did before.

It was becoming awkward anytime she neared me, and it was too late, she noticed me watching her arm like a cat would follow a laser, and she flexed it, making her rested bicep to grow rounder.

She relaxed her arm, and her smiling was … bemused. “What?” I asked.

“Googly eyes.”

“What?

“You heard me, fool. I can see the in your pupils, actually, your skin, the breathing pattern, I can tell your heart skipping a beat when I get my muscles get hard like this.” She flexed her both arms harder. “Just like dad. I can sense this reaction on Cosmo. I guess it is natural for some guys.”

“Well, it is not natural to see muscles in girls.”

“Especially with the little sister, right?” She flexed her both arms over me, laughing at all the bleeps from my physiological reactions, attesting her theory. She relaxed again, holding her stupid giggling as she stretched her longer body, lying back down by my side, relaxing her muscles.

“I wasn’t able to decipher all these reactions before, you know, I was rather confused, but after I had sex with Thomas, it became so fucking clear, like Magic Eye, like when you cross your eyes and a figure forms from the noise. You guys got so easy to read now.”

I put my notebook away, “look, that doesn’t mean I’m interested in you, or anything …”

“Relax, dummy. It is not your fault …” she flexed arm again, making a funky ‘o’ face at that, “… until I decide that it is.”

“Stop it. Cut it out.”

Cindy could have stopped right there, but she kept her arms flexed, making her back wider than ever, stretching her top and compressing her breasts almost out of it, “it’s just funny, it’s like I’m pulling your strings like a puppet. Why don’t you stop gawking at them? They’re just muscles …” She saw me getting very uncomfortable. “Okay, I’ll stop tormenting you. It is just that funny way of you looking at them … Just so weird, unexpected.” She was so annoyingly amused, “Girls are acting like that, but they are harder to read. Maybe I should have sex with a girl to learn them too. How many girls have you dated after Ashley?”

I looked away to the door, she was a virgin until two days ago, and now sounded like a sex therapist and walking around like a freaking muscle diva, “what do you want here?”

“I wrote some notes for Thomas screenplay. I need you to read them.”

“Why? It is your notes.”

“He asked your notes, so I faked your writing.”

“You what?” I turned some pages, and indeed, it was my writing all over the borders, other ten full pages of notes with my writing following it. “I would never write that much,” I said in wonder. I took a pen and repeated some words with my writing to compare, the ‘e’ and ‘a’ and ‘z’ were off, but overall, no one could tell the difference. “how long it took for you to do that?” “

“About an hour. Okay, an hour and a half. It needs a lot of bloody work. A full rewrite. It sucks.”

“Isn’t better for him to learn by himself?”

“Why if I can help?”

“And why are you faking my writing then?”

“He wouldn’t listen to me now … I’ll fix him later.”

“Fix him later? What do you mean by that? That you will change him?”

“He’s not very smart, doesn’t he … well, how I can put it, everyone is becoming dumber compared to me. I didn’t ask for being more intelligent and smarter than anyone, but well, here I am. You know, I’m getting so fucking smart that I could crush his little male ego like a grape, but I’m not like this. I want to help, even when people don’t want my help. Or are unaware that I’m helping. ”

Cindy was getting scary again, “because you know what’s better for them …” I said.

“Exactly. I can step up everyone towards success and make feel better about themselves. Thoma’s uncle will sell this script, and he will start a career, even if I have to rewrite it myself. Which I think I can do in a couple of days. When my muscles are set to get bigger, in some hours, like nothing.”

“Your brain grows along with your muscles …”

“Didn’t you know that? It is 1 to 1. Sounds like a joke, but is like one IQ point for each pound. Never noticed those two female bodybuilders in the Forbes top one hundred? How do you think they got there? Lifting weights? Yeah, right. Next year it will double the number of bittens, like four big girls in the list, and the following year doubling again, like eight, then sixteen, until they fill the list. It is inevitable in ten years or so, all the richest people of the planet will be just the bitten. It is a race for the top, and I’m not late to that party.”

“So you are thinking about …”

“Yeah, eat much more, and find super weights to muscle up for the race to the top. If I’m going to be an amazon, it is just better to embrace, isn’t it? If I eat right, I’ll get big very soon. Then, when I’m finally rich, I’ll get leaner again to fit doors. It is not easy to grow really big, but I already have a plan. That space that no one uses, I just threw out that couch, so I can make it my lab.”

“Isn’t that space belong to dad?”

“Used to.” She said raising her eyebrows, implicitly saying how much she was lording over him. “My problem is finding weights ten times heavier, and even then they will get too light for me. But I’ll be so much smarter.”

“When you decided all this?”

“Yesterday. I decided that getting fucking rich should be my first priority, so I can do whatever I want afterward.”

“Isn’t that everyone’s priority?”

“Yeah, but I won this lottery here,” she flexed her arm again, taking pride the form that should be on fitness magazine covers. “The more I look at them, more beautiful I think they are, don’t you think? I love to see them shifting and bulging inside my clothes, pushing them to its limits, I want to see them bigger, just to see how it would feel like.” Yeah, she was in love with her arms, I guess that Thomas fucked with her mind. “Why shouldn’t I? It is so awesome what they can do.” Was she getting me uncomfortable on purpose? Was she going to flex those muscles all the time now? Thomas gave her so much confidence?

“Wouldn’t be too much muscle for Thomas?”

“I think he will grow to accept who I am, and what I’m going to be. He paid a lot of attention on my muscles anyway. He will get more of that. For now, I need you to read my notes so you can call him here.” She noticed my effusive enthusiasm on that task, and put her hand on my knee and tapped it, “if your sister is going to be rich, I’d say to be generous with her.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It can be,” she said taking off that muscular ass from my bed, “but it doesn’t need to be.” She said fully aware that I was eyeing her butt, with that stupid grin of hers.

I did not protest of being her confidant anymore. I had no option. Who else Cindy would tell how people were getting smaller and dumber around her or would listen to her big plans that sounded so freaking aloof, or how awesome is to be a winner of the queen bee lottery …

Reading her notes, she worded everything wrong with it in ways I couldn’t explain. The screenplay was crap, I always knew that, but reading those notes, I understood why. Her thinking so well constructed and so full of deep references that Thomas would have little choice but accepting it, and gladly. I texted him to come over, “I finished my notes,” I typed.

“Is your sis there?” Thomas messaged back. “She sent me twenty-eight messages since Saturday. Fifteen today. She’s creeping me out.”

“She’s new into relationships,” I wrote back, trying to fix things. Cindy would grow insanely mad if he dumps her so fast, it would be a seismic event.

“Bro, I cut other girls for less. But you’re right. I’ll try to talk to her later.”

Her relationship with Thomas wasn’t a sure thing as her big brain thought it to be.


Chapter 10: Vulnerable

As Cindy developed inhumanly fast, the dinners became more silent accordingly. Every other night I would see dad watching Cindy’s arms to bulge, and mom watched these glances with envious eyes, drinking harder her wine. Each night was worse than the one before.

But there was another thing going on that night.

Cindy surely didn’t tell me everything, she bit her food and gulped it down mechanically, her mind was in some place else.

Thomas did not reply me about the script notes, and it was his baby. Something was wrong. I expected that Cindy would nag me to get to him back, but something has happened, and her mood was apprehensive, waiting for something.

“Another death today.” Mom said on her way to start chit chat. “Skull crushed. He was just seventeen,” she said and gulped more of her wine, Cindy kept staring at her plate, trying to ignore her. Every other night mom wanted to talk about another Bitten victim, each one was a new monthly scandal, this time a clueless robber died before he could fire.

“How many this month? Around the world?” Mom asked no one.

Cindy dropped her fork, her purple eyes still locked to her plate while mom preached about the ‘BQ hazard’, talking about how ordinary people felt threatened by them, defenseless and feeling vulnerable. Cindy could kill all of us without breaking a sweat, maybe before we could even react, and destroy the house, or fucking level the whole neighborhood, who knows, and mom wanted us to remember this every other dinner.

“13, right? 13 deaths this month, right?” Mom asked no one again. “It is a new high, and we are still in the middle of the month.” Mom chuckled as she took another bite.

We all hoped she would stop there, as we all could see Cindy’s arms and neck to tense, but mom went on, “And these strange masculine women are so few. Yet, look at the damage. I know that is not their fault, but something must be done.”

Cindy took her bait, and turned to mom, coldly, “What must be done, mom?”

“I don’t know, dear, these women need some place away from people, a tropical island far from here, surely you can see the danger of having too much power in this world, can’t you?”

“You want the government to lock us up in a ghetto … Is that it? Segregation?”

As the only level-headed family member in that table, I had to intervene, “Cindy, she’s …” Cindy gave a seriously ominous creepy stare at me, effectively shutting up my mouth, or any other body movement of mine, and her face turned back to mom: “of what you are truly afraid, mom?”

Mom nervously laughed, “Look at them,” and she pointed her hands at me, dad and Geoffrey. “Look how they changed. Look how you just made Nicholas obey you, just made him shut his mouth up. You’ve made him less of a man …”

“Hey, mom!” I protested.

“Shut up, Nicholas. You know who your sister is. We all do, she never really changed,” mom eyed those bigger and firmer breasts of her daughter, and said in spite, “how can you jiggle those water balloons with this awkward body of yours. Look at those arms …” her eyes completed her phrase, with ‘disgusting’.

Geoffrey, dad and I were cold dead silent like the T-Rex scene in Jurassic Park. And mom was doing Jeff Goldblum’s part, calling the T-Rex to run after her. They were exchanging sparks with their eyes, and I was relieved that Cindy seemed to be controlling her anger. It felt to me that mom was just defying Cindy in front of us to show who’s boss. Or to dare Cindy to break into violence and prove her right.

“A powerful, luminous queen bee outside, yes, just the same old moth inside,” mom said at Cindy’s silence.

Mom did it … that was totally uncalled for, I was ready to take sides this time. ‘Moth’ used to be Cindy’s nickname in school as a kid, and she cried many times over that, mom was reopening a wound.

Just then, Cindy’s phone beeped over the table.

Breathing hard, she read what was on the screen, and just as that, Cindy crushed that phone like toothpaste, it wailed sparks before dying in her closed fist, a fist which she brought to her forehead … was Cindy about to cry?

Suddenly, she brought down that same fist over the table in a nanosecond, an earsplitting blast took half of the dinner table to collapse to the floor, and the other half to go up right in our faces, and Mom and Geoffrey had their arms over the table. They both propelled to the air and the ground. When it all stopped, I saw Geoffrey’s arm bent in the wrong direction, and I had a piece of glass stuck in my forearm.

Mom was lying unconscious, and dad on his fours trying to understand what happened. Cindy happened. And she was still in her chair looking at the destruction around her.

I stared at that glass on my arm, it was a big chunk, and I couldn’t feel it, maybe my brain was blocking the pain. I was afraid to remove it. I turned to Cindy, who was stepping away from that disaster, part of the table around her pulverized to splinters. With her face full of shame, even her super-brain couldn’t tell her what to do.

“Hospital,” dad said as mom was starting to wake up in his arms. “What happened?” Mom had a big bruise on her chin and blood coming out of her mouth, Geoffrey started to cry in pain as he tried to move his broken arm. None of us spent any time on Cindy, to not even look at her face of remorse. We just went to the car, I helped Geoffrey, and dad helped mom, and I shut the front door right on her face so she wouldn’t follow us to the hospital.

An hour later, with my stitches done, dad had a small laceration on his forehead and some splinters of wood that had to be removed from his numb leg, but he was okay. Geoffrey and mom would need more care. “Go home,” my father said, concerned, still trembling a bit from the explosive dinner, “go see your sister, I’m calling home, she isn’t answering. Cindy might look indestructible. She isn’t.”

I took the car, as soon as dad said that, I too grew worried. Cindy has been weird all day.

I arrived back home fifteen minutes later. The phone was ringing inside, probably dad calling. The whole place was dark. I turned on the light on my phone and saw food splattered over the ceiling, glass, and pieces of porcelain everywhere. I walked to her bedroom, and her door was open. I heard the soothing shower noise in the darkness, “Cindy?” No answer. I slowly opened the bathroom door and found a trail of blood over the white flooring. My heart raced, the spotlight of my phone illuminated the tub, and there she was immobile inside, immersed in the water with her clothes, staring at the wall as if I wasn’t there, there was blood in her fingers and a puddle of blood beneath them, “Oh, no …”

I dashed to her, there was a sharp knife near her, bloody as well, and her hairdryer was floating over the water. “Oh, fuck … why you fucking did it …”

As I started to cry on my knees, I couldn’t look at her dead eyes, and then I felt a hand over my head, her hand, patting me: “I’m okay, Nic.”

“What the fuck? Did you try to fucking killing yourself?” My voice was betraying my anger, my heart full of relief that she spoke at all, my eyes red as hell.

“Some things don’t turn up the way we hoped for.” She said as I took her wrist and searched for the cuts, rubbing there to find where the blood came from, there was just a thin red line fading out.

“Was it Thomas? He dumped you?” I kept talking as I unplugged and tossed away the hairdryer from that soapy water and searched for any other method that she stupidly tried to kill herself. Did she electrocute herself? And didn’t died? What could kill her?

“I wouldn’t try to kill myself over a guy, Nic,” Cindy said without emotion.

“What then? You can’t take mom’s provocations seriously, right? You know her game, you can’t fall for it. And she and Geoffrey and dad will be fine … accidents happen. No reason to take your life for …”

“I lost thirty million dollars this night, Nic.”

I blinked. Twice. “What?”

“Something went wrong. All my predictions were right … all of them, but not this one, just the one that I couldn’t do wrong. I think I’ve broken an exchange, Nic, lots of people will lose tons of money … because of me.”

“You are only eighteen, Cindy, what the fuck are talking about?”

“I didn’t take just some thousands, Nic, I took hundreds of thousands, it was just that easy. I could trace those big whales, find their history, their sloppy footprints, each had more money than all the rest of the fish, and I took a big glass out of it.”

“What happened wrong?”

“I can’t get you involved.”

“You lost it all?”

She nodded her head positively.

I sat on the wet floor, hearing the phone ringing again. “Do they know that was you?”

“I hope not,” she said.

“Holy shit, Cindy”

“Holy shit, Nic.”

I called dad bullshitting that everything was ‘fine’. Mom was doing an MRI, and they would take longer than expected.

I turned up the house’s power and cleaned all the flooring stained with her blood, while she was sat on her bed watching the carpet, feeling defeated, using an old white bathrobe too small for her frame, barely covering her breasts. She didn’t care.

On my knees, I reinspected her wrists once again, and there were no marks whatsoever. She could heal so fast. I said to her, “shit, Cindy, you can’t even kill yourself,” I got her a laugh out of it.

And she stopped laughing. She stared right at me with those big big purple irises of hers, they seemed to sparkle, her mouth a little open as if she needed to say something, I could see her lips regaining its garnet color, blooming again, lips as perfectly detailed as a Stradivarius violin, full as her breasts, expressive as her muscles. How many times did I stare at her like this?

She didn’t cut my gawking with a wisecrack, or faked obliviousness, Cindy stared back at me and let her robe to fall from her shoulders, exposing breasts that I lost so many nights wondering how they looked like naked. They must be beyond Ees, whatever, they were big but was their form what counts. No breasts should look like this … so daring against gravity. I sighed as her areolas flushed full as her lips, bringing her nipples up and away from each other.

At times my mind flashed how Cindy used to look, but a single look at her new self erased that from my mind. Like if it was another life. Another Cindy.

“This is biblically wrong,” I said staring at her nakedness.

“Are you going to tell what’s wrong with a girl who robs and lost thirty million dollars?” She took the back of my head and her tongue invaded my mouth, a tongue strong and large as the rest of herself. I just … just melted away in her arms, under the hot breath of wild strawberries. And she kissed me again, pushing my body towards hers, conforming mine to hers, I felt like she was sucking my soul out of my lungs as if she always wanted to do that.

With a single arm she grabbed my collar and dragged me over the bed and over herself, and believe it or not, I was lost on where she was leading us. Seated over her, I took the splendor of all those naked muscles welding power with female harmony, and breasts that I’m unable to recreate with words. Celestial? Heavenly? Hypnotic?

“How could think of killing yourself?” I mumbled, “look at this fucking body of yours … would be such a waste.”

“I’ll fuck you up, brother. Literally.” She switched our positions so fast that I couldn’t even react, it felt like more than one G for a moment, disorientating, my mind taking time to adjust to my perspective shift, and there she was, above me, locking me up with her insanely strong thighs, thighs that could football a car. Just one twitch of hers, I could be dead.

And that thought made me just harder, she had all the power, I found myself just gyrating my hips, trying to rub that bulge of mine on those muscular naked thighs, and she watched me contorting under her as all my senses wanted more, more of everything, more of those breasts, more of those arms, more of those iron-hard abs moving like a cobra.

She slowly flexed her biceps, with her palms open, majestically widening her back, bringing up her lats to the show, the new muscles she just started to develop. Her purple eyes went a bit crazy as I tried to reach her arms in vain, she was getting intoxicated with my own intoxication, her perversion feeding off my own perversion, this big dominating girl is she wanted to be her whole life, and then there she was, fully being it.

She came down embracing me and grinding my body with hers as if I was a stuffed toy, just like I saw she doing once with pillows.

I was still in my clothes and her naked over me, rubbing herself and all her muscles over my face, my chest, my crotch, she wanted me to cum, she ordered me to cum, and I had to obey. When I started to cum, she just watched me like a spectator watching fireworks, her magic working on me, happy with a new trick she just learned: how to make her big brother squirm.

Between breaths, I said to her, feeling my crotch all wet, “what the fuck we’ve just done?”

“I’m not done yet,” and she brought my face to her right fat nipple in one move, giving me no option but letting it invade my mouth, feeling it with all my tongue, she needed more, she took my head out of her nipple and her lips touching my earlobes, whispered “suck fucking harder than that …”

I had my mouth full with her pointy breast again, as I sucked it harder as I could, I felt that nipple enlarging more, “bite it … try to take a piece out of that …” My teeth closing around her nipple gave a small jolt in her body, making all those muscles to tense around her embrace, and “bite harder, Nic”

This was new territory, Cindy’s body was so strong that I need the human’s strongest muscle to please her soft parts. I fucking start chewing out that nipple and her swollen areola, like a zombie eating brains. Her hand locking my head compressed my whole face into one killing smothering. I couldn’t breathe as her breathing went louder, making me chew her faster, trying to rip out a piece out as she ordered. Her pressure on over my head made me see stars and little worms of light, dancing, celebrating as the oxygen left my brain, and before I blacked out, I bite her nipple like a rottweiler, and the whole world started to quake. I could feel the vibrations of her throat by her breasts, and my mouth then flooded with … milk. She was spurting milk.

She released me and started fingering herself, not only to maintain that orgasm, but to amplify into a series of them, and then there was liquid coming out of everywhere, her breasts, her legs, soaking the bed --and so that’s why she changes its sheets every day--. The milk on my mouth, nearly asphyxiated me, yet I couldn’t stop watching her spurting a geyser from her legs, over my jeans and drenching my shirt, it was a fucking hot white shower.

After a whole minute, her breasts stopped spurting, her eyes closed feeling the last breezes of those orgasms finally leaving her body, and her face, angelical like she just found Jesus.

Cindy opened her eyes, feeling my hair was all sticky as everything else, and she started to laugh, openly laugh.

There was a new sensation in the air. We did it. Full on incest. The dawn of a new day. Fucking suicidal sisters.

She left me in bed and took a shower, and before she closed the door, I had to make a question, I couldn’t let it die out with just silence, “was it better than Thomas?”

Cindy smiled and said, “That milk thing, that didn’t happen with him.” She said before closing the bathroom door, she felt better about herself for a second, but then her mind went back to the loss of eight figure fuck-you-money and what else.

I walked to my own bedroom shirtless, my shirt was a wet rag. I didn’t know what to think. Actually, I had to stop thinking. Somehow I felt that it was all out of my hands anyway. Just let it flow with the river, I said to myself.

Turning up the lights, I heard a bee inside my bathroom, a little drone buzzing loud and wanting to get out. Probably locked there all day. I opened a window for it to quit. Instead, it flew inside home and to the corridor. I followed that bee ricocheting all around the walls and ceiling until it found the attic ladder and entered by a gap upstairs. I turned my phone’s lantern on and pushed down that ladder.

Sticking my head up there I heard more than one bee; they seemed calm. I walked up inside to the dark, searching the bees, and I felt something crunching under the sole of my foot, on the dirty floor I found a large disk of dead bees, long dead, with a much bigger bee dead at its center. Twenty times larger than the workers, she had purple rings around the abdomen. That queen has lost its stinger. She bit someone before dying here below her nest.

That hive was dead. I inspected that strange formation, the bees themselves seemed to die in a perfect geometrical arrangement, forming a circle around their queen, creating beautiful patterns with their tiny bodies as their last tribute to the dead ruler. Geometrical and noble as only bees could be. Old and young, tiny male drones and female workers, all sip the queen’s venom to die with her.

I took several pictures of that macabre painting from nature and turned around to follow the solitary drones flying around me, probably patrolling my presence near their hive.

I walked around the large dark attic room, and the number of drones suddenly multiplied tenfold, alerting me that I was close enough. I pointed the light up, towards a broken window and there it was, a big nest, larger than the dead one one, three times its size.

A drone nearly hit my face. They were losing their patience with me. I stood back and left them alone. People already died trying to remove these mutated bees from their homes.

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