Joes Story An Fmg Tale Prologue

Heads up. This is an introduction to a longer series of stories about Joe. This one doesn't have any growth in it and is meant to introduce the characters and scenario.

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The last normal day of my life was a Monday in April.

Hi. My name is Joe. Yes. I am average. No. I'm not going to tell you my last day.

I'm a normal 20-year-old living in a normal Americana suburb sometime at the beginning of the century.

And on this Monday, I woke up in my normal young man's bedroom. Well, OK, it's a little less than normal. Sure, I have a pile of dirty clothes on the floor--a stack of DVDs and Blu-rays scattered across my dresser. A small television connected to a PlayStation.

And tucked under my bed, I have long boxes filled with my favorite DC superheroes. There are all the ones you'd expect -- Batman, Superman, Green Lantern and a few random Bat Family comics. But slipped between those issues are my real treasures -- issues of Wonder Woman and Power Girl.

See that's my secret. While all of my friends want supermodel thin women with moderately large breasts, I want a superhero woman. A woman with inhumanely large breasts, wide shoulders and hips. I dream of them showing off their bulging biceps, six-packs and ...

Well, you get the idea, right?

Now, I know that those women don't exist. But I secretly scour the Internet to find pictures and stories. At least when I can.

Don't tell my mom, OK?

I just started my second year at the nearby state college. My Dad is a professor here and my mom is a secretary, but I moved into my own apartment this year.

Anyway, I already said it's a Monday morning. So everything started on this last day of normal with a nice long shower with a little "me" time if you get what I mean. Just some normal fantasies of seeing normal women growing taller, getting muscles, growing breasts.

You know the drill.

Give me a break. I'm 20. It's like my dick still has a mind of its own.

Slam. Slam. Slam. "Joe! Are you done in there, yet?"

Jesus Christ. This is not the best time. "Just a few more minutes. I got shampoo in my hair!" I yell back to Sally.

"You're going to use all of the hot water! I need to take a shower too!"

So this needs a bit of an explanation. Sally is my younger sister's best friend. My younger sister Christine decided that she was going to take a year to go and find herself by backpacking around Europe.

But Sally wanted to go to the local state university and I was volunteered to play help her out with a place to stay. She's a good friend though, even if she is a little annoying. Somehow, I'm the only one with a car, and it's become our tradition that I give her a ride to campus, rather than have her hoof it.

Sally wasn't as lucky as my sister and I to get our average genetics. Her parents were both on the heavier side, and that crap slid downhill onto her. Unfortunately, she got a body that was just preparing for the eventual apocalypse by making sure that it had enough energy stored on it.

This is all a nice way of saying that she is fat. And her body doesn't carry it well. At 5'6" it bunched around her middle and legs, making her a target of bullies when she was in middle and high school.

While things got better for her in college, she still struggles with her self-image.

It's a shame really, because she is a nice person. She's into all of the best music and books. One of my most secret fantasies is that somehow I was able to adjust her biochemistry so that she could lose that weight in all of the right places. Then it could be replaced with muscle. Maybe she would grow a foot taller, so she looked down on all of her bullies.

And...

Crap! I need to get my hair washed. No more of these fantasies.

I got myself washed up and suffered through the pain of an unfinished fantasy while I shoved myself back into my clothes.

****

I grabbed the box of Cheerios and poured myself a bowl, while I waited for my coffee to finish. I was just about ready to go when Sally made her way into the kitchen.

"Hey, shorty! Are you ready yet?" I said in my best faux cheery voice.

Sally grimaced at me. "I'm not short! And you're the short one, I'm only four inches shorter than you. That makes me average for a woman."

"Which means you're short." I grinned back. She's my sister's friend. It think that means I'm still entitled to use brother logic to give her a hard time occasionally.

Sally grabbed a piece of toast and put an unhealthy amount of butter on it. "Well, I'm still growing. You never know. I could end up taller than you."

I don't think Sally understood quite how close that cut to my fantasies. I just grinned to laugh it off. "Yeah, sure. That would be an awfully late growth spurt."

Then she nudged the door to my fantasies just a little wider when she said, "You know, I weighed myself this morning and I think I lost a couple of pounds."

"That's great!" I said. I pray I sounded supportive without sounding condescending. I don't know if I pulled it off. I might be a pervert, but I did want to be a supportive friend.

She grinned a little. "I think I'm going to go for a walk when we get home from school. What do you think? Do you want to go too?"

I knew what I was going to say. It's what I always said here. Because this was reality. It wasn't a fantasy where she would keep up the exercise and magically turn into some hot fitness chick.

"Sure. Let's do it." I said, knowing that even if we went for a walk today, nothing would ever come of it.

The truth is that fantasies are just fantasies, right? Even for perverts like me.

We fell into the familiar rhythm of mindless talk about school, the fact that we needed to leave soon, and the frantic search for car keys before we both arrived at the college.

"Have a good day, shorty," I say just loud enough in the parking lot for some of the other kids to notice.

Sally grimaced at me and shot me a middle finger before walking toward school.

Chapter 2: Lila and Susan

The truth is that I loved and hated this 8 a.m. class. On the one hand, by the divine hand of the scheduling gods somehow my two best friends, Sam and Max, shared this music appreciation elective with me.

It was the perfect 8 a.m. class. We just listened to our ancient burnout hippie prof go on about nothing. It was what they call, "an easy A"

But what the fates giveth, they also taketh away. And that is what I was reminded of this morning as I walked in the door. It was like Susan Kennedy purposefully picked that seat in the corner of the class just to screw with me.

Susan was as close to my dream girl as I think I'll ever see. She was 6' 2" with broad shoulders, big tits and a head full of wild auburn hair. The part that really caught my attention was the way her muscles shifted under her tight shirt. They weren't huge, but they were noticeable.

And for two weeks in freshman year, she was mine.

Now, when that happened she wasn't all this. She was maybe a foot shorter. She still had a respectable chest, but she hadn't ascended into perfect 10 territory.

Also, it might be a bit of a stretch to say she was mine. More like we fooled around a little bit, and then she got bored and ghosted me. When I saw her six months later, she looked like this.

She certainly hadn't acknowledged my existence ever since we walked into the same classroom.

And I certainly didn't have the guts to walk up to my dream girl.

As I was standing there trying to discreetly ogle, I felt a sharp pain hit my right side. "Ow!"

"It's not nice to stare," Lila said as she appeared from behind me. "It makes you look like a creep."

"What? I wasn't staring?"

Lila, the little blonde woman, tilted her head to the side, "Oh, I'm sorry. I must have made a mistake."

Lila could be best described as "stylish" with her curled hair, skirt and jacket. She was even cute, but at 5-foot-nothing calling her petite would be an overstatement. It must have come with its own baggage, because she had an awfully dry wit. And she was able to make my pining over Susan Kennedy feel horribly self-indulgent.

We both started walking to where Sam and Max were sitting, chatting about something, likely a new video game.

Sam and Max on the other hand, still didn't fully believe that I dated her at all especially after they spotted her this year. I met the two of them when I was on the rebound from Susan during that horrible two months.

The two of them had met in the dorms, and I came across Sam while playing endless rounds of some fighting game in the student union building. He invited me to play games with him and Max in their room.

So I did.

In a lot of ways, they complimented each other. Sam was a bit of a homebody. He had a few friends who he went out with a couple of times a week.

Max, on the other hand, was the type of guy who always had to talk to everyone. In the first couple weeks, he had met everyone in his dorm, and I was willing to bet that by this point he knew everyone in school.

He was also ridiculously good-looking, and a genuinely nice dude, which is why Lila went all moony-eyed over him every time we were in class.

It was a shame because Max had his own version of Susan named Myriam. Only she wasn't a hopelessly out-of-reach ice queen. Instead, she was his on-again, off-again girlfriend, who was presently off-again.

Max was hopelessly zoned out of Lila, and both Sam and I tried to steer her to make a better choice. But the heart wants what the heart wants, right?

"Hey guys. What's up?" I said. Hoping that the topic of conversation wouldn't be Susan or Myriam.

"Oh, nothing," Sam piped up before could launch into his latest diatribe about what the "crazy bitch" did now, or worse yet,

But Max didn't catch the hint, "OK. Get this. She texted me last night that she was lonely and I turned her down. I don't get why she keeps doing this."

"Good for you," Lila said. Sam and I exchanged a look.

Chapter 3: Kate

Most of the rest of the day proceeded like normal. I spent lunch chatting with Max and Sam about video games and girls. Unfortunately, I don't share any other classes with them. I might swing by their dorm after my walk with Sally.

Look, I'm sure that most of you are expecting some moment where Susan bumps into me, and then makes a crack about me. It's not going to happen. This is reality. Things like that just don't happen. First of all, it's not like I'm unusually short or scrawny. And while she is fantastically beautiful, there are a dozens of stories about women having a late growth spurt..

See. Perfectly reasonable.

When I plopped down in my seat, I was still in a fugue state thinking about how to help Lila and. I barely noticed that Kate had already set her stuff down next to me.

The best way I can describe Kate is that she was an odd duck. She was 5' 2", dressed in a Harvard sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. She barely looked up from the homework that she was furiously scribbling during the moments before Professor Smith was going to come in and collect it.

"You know homework is meant to be done at home?" I quipped as I noticed her writing out the last few lines of the equation she was solving.

"Haha. Very funny. I don't suppose you got this finished at all?" she said all the while having her nose down in the paperwork.

I pulled out my Chemistry notebook and tore out a sheet where I had neatly finished all of the problems Smith had assigned us. "I've got it right here."

"Let me see it," she said in quick curt tones.

Now, I know what you're going to say, dear reader. I should just let her suffer. How else is she going to learn? Well, see that Harvard shirt that Kate is wearing is not for decoration. She could have had her pick of colleges, and was only here because her dad was a visiting fellow and her mom was dean of students.

If anything, she's doing me a favor by looking at my homework.

So I slid it over to her and she started writing down the answer for the last problem, which thankfully I had gotten right. But Kate was quick to point out that I had gotten the reaction incorrect on my first problem. After she was finished I quickly erased my answer and fixed it.

"Thanks," I said as I laid down my pencil just moments before Smith walked in.

Kate gave me a quick smile.

I wouldn't say Kate and I are friends. We're more like comrades in arms. But among the people in our Organic Chemistry lab, we were among the most socially adept. That isn't saying much about us, but it is saying a lot about the barely verbal science geeks who have trouble interacting with the rest of humanity.

That's not to say that Kate and I are not geeks. We certainly are. Hell, she knows more about Dune, Harry Potter and Chess than I ever could. But we learned to focus our geekiness and not splash it all over us with heavy metal T-shirts, talking about the latest DnD campaign, and just generally not being functional members of society.

And let's face it, I wasn't nearly on Kate's level. She is Ivy League material. This state university is about my speed.

Today was a lab day anyway. Kate and I start getting set up pretty quickly.

As we get our equipment set up, I absently ask, "You ever wonder if it's possible to develop a super soldier formula?"

OK. This may seem like a ridiculous question. But I was bored, and I was just absently thinking about that kind of stuff.

Look. I know all of that stuff I said about Susan before is true. She's just genetically gifted. But there is just a little bit of me that wonders if she had some sort of special juice.

Kate didn't miss a beat. "Well, it depends." Her small hands moved deftly to set up the testing equipment. I knew it only required a fraction of her attention. "We already have anabolic steroids. Those promote muscle growth outside of normal means. But, I don't think that is what you mean."

"No. I was thinking along the lines of Captain America. You know, something that could make you taller and stronger, but without inducing rage and other stuff," I shot back.

Kate nodded. What I liked about Kate is that she would consider even the most ridiculous ideas with the same gravity that she used for actual science.

"I don't think it would work the same way as Captain America. You would need to find a way to change how the body absorbs and converts calories. That would probably change people too drastically to be healthy, or sustainable.

"But I think you could do it if it was over a longer period of time. We don't necessarily have the technology right now, but there is a way to adjust DNA and supplement it with hormones, it's possible."

Normally, my perverted mind would have run with that, but somehow the clinical way Kate talked about it just made it a lot less sexy.

"The possibility is not the biggest problem," she said as she looked up from her glassware. "What makes Captain America isn't the super soldier formula. It's the morals and codes he chooses to uphold. If you just start handing out superpowers to anyone, I think you would have a lot more villains than superheroes."

"How about you?"

She shrugged. "I don't think that is a question you can answer until you suddenly find that you have that power. Do you?"

Chapter 4: The end of the beginning

The rest of my day was normal. I met up with Sally. We walked after getting home. She was winded after half a mile and we soon headed home.

I met up with Sam and Max after having dinner with my parents. Yes, I still did that.

Sometime around midnight, I packed myself up and went to bed. I jacked off while fantasizing about women turning into busty amazons.

As I sat on the edge of sleep, it felt like someone was standing over me in the bed. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn't. I tried moving my arms, but they were pinned to my sides. I had that same feeling as when I walked into the classroom. The type where you have pins and needles run up your spine.

I fought and thrashed, but I couldn't move.

Then I heard a voice. I couldn't tell if it was a woman's voice or not. It was smooth and dark and calm.

"I know what you want," it whispered. "I can see it all around you. All you need to do is give in."

I tried to move my mouth. I wanted to scream, to bite, to shake myself out of this.

"No. You don't. Not really," the voice said, seeming to answer my inner thoughts. "You want to be in a world where all of your fantasies are possible."

I swear I could see a faint flicker and smelled melting wax.

Then it felt like something warm spread over me. It felt like when you have the first beer of the night. My resistance to whatever was crumbling. This had to be a dream. It wouldn't be so bad to just give in this one time. All I needed to do was just relax.

Look you know what I did. I wouldn't be telling you this story if somehow I managed to break free of that hold. The voice was right. I wanted to live in a world where my fantasies were true.

And if all I needed to do was go to sleep, that wasn't so bad, was it?

So that's what I did.

In those last moments, I swore I saw a dark-haired girl standing over me. Her eyes glowed red in the dark, and I swear I heard her laugh.