Trophy Wife Pt. 01

The vial of Trazo was positioned carefully next to her water bottle on the squat bench, practically teasing her, a syringe next to it. It was obvious Susan had every intention of using the drug the first chance she had, her willpower to do otherwise — the right, better thing — clearly losing the battle, the beast within her that coveted size and strength readying itself to be released once more.

Giving in, she took the vial of Trazo and hastily pumped its contents into the syringe. How much did Trent say she should start off with? Five milliliters? Ten? Fifteen? God, she couldn't remember! It was ten, right? Yeah, it was ten. It was definitely ten. She didn't even bother putting together a makeshift tourniquet, jamming the needle into the slightest hint of a vein in her arm. A wince, followed by a gentle sigh as the syringe clattered to the ground next to Susan's foot.

***

Trent's balls ached, soothing them stealthily as he sat at the gym's main desk. He never expected his 'wife' Taylor to be so rough with him during the night, practically throwing him around the bed like a ragdoll, clamping his dick around her vice-like pussy, riding him until he passed out from exhaustion. When he woke up that morning she was gone, making Trent think it was a nightmare. Until he saw her cum-soaked underwear on the floor.

Still, the rhythmical clanking of weights and grunts calmed Trent. The gym was his place of Zen. Nobody could take that away from him at least. His mother Angela though, would've preferred he stayed at home, forever suspicious of the women around her Greek god of a son. He zoned out for a minute, wondered what life would've been like if his mother wasn't so controlling. At least then he would've been able to do what he wanted without someone saying otherwise.

But then the voice broke through Trent's trance. Noah, his workout partner and occasional helper around the gym, looked at him with concern. Noah wasn't as big as Trent but was just as fascinated by the world of bodybuilding. Had won a few trophies in his comparatively shorter time competing, too. He repeated his words. "You listening? Tiffany wants to start training for bodybuilding."

Tiffany was the girl Trent pointed out to Susan the day before. She was already the High School's top cheerleader, even if she had taken her training regimen further than most girls her age, to the point where she had abs like a pro American linebacker. Then again, she did have a little 'help on the side.' A girl Tiffany's age taking steroids was risky, but Trent wasn't bothered by it, being on the same boat himself years prior. So long as clients were willing to pay, he was willing to look the other way.

"Then let her," was Trent's response. He still remained distant, thinking about the night's events once more, recollecting the moment Taylor threw him up against the wall so hard the plastic cracked like an egg shell, jamming her tongue down his throat to practically suck the oxygen from his lungs. Trent was confused. Did he enjoy it? Didn't he?"

Noah didn't feel the same way about Tiffany as Trent. Noah understood Trent's perspective, knowing he was groomed by his father to become the biggest, stronger man in the world, but that just wasn't...right. Noah and Trent had butt heads over this exact thing on several occasions and Trent had always seemed to stand by the decision his father made. But not everyone was Trent. "I dunno, dude. She shouldn't even be taking steroids at her age, let alone wanting to do bodybuilding. I told her she should wait until her body stop's growing first."

"What did she say?"

"She just fucking laughed at me."

Trent scoffed, shuffling out the seat to accompany Noah into the gym's main hall. The pro bodybuilders had a small section for themselves in the corner, figuratively circle-jerking one another for their efforts.

Trent heard Tiffany before he saw her, her signature grunts sounding from the corner as she casually paced through a clean deadlift. Trent examined the plates locked in position on the bar, surprised to find Tiffany hoisting double the weight she was last week with even less effort.

Trent looked at Noah, who glanced back at him knowingly in return.

Tiffany grunted as she dropped the bar onto the mat with such force that it burst and flattened. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she whistled triumphantly at her feat. "Whatcha think, guys? Cool huh?"

"Uh, yeah," Noah responded timorously. He and Trent watched in silence for a moment as Tiffany brushed past them to sit at one of the nearby benches to do concentration curls. Sweat matted her dainty breasts and forehead, soaking her gray sports bra with a cool pink outline. "Listen Tiff, we gotta talk to you about something?"

"You're gonna be my personal trainer for bodybuilding? Both of you? That'd be so COOL!" Tiffany said that without casting even a mere acknowledging gaze at Trent and Noah, who since then looked away guiltily, still powering through her curls. Obviously that wasn't what they were going to talk about it. Far from it. "I can't wait to start!"

"Uh, no. That's not why we're here," Noah said. He acknowledged Trent's evident silence on the subject since they approached Tiffany. Noah knew Trent would've had a skewed and conflicted opinion on the matter and was bracing for it. "We're not going to do that."

"What?" Tiffany obviously didn't expect that particular response. She had the next year of her life mapped out in her head — finish the current year of high school then drop out to start her bodybuilding quest and earn a name for herself. "That's bullshit!"

"We just think it's best until your body stops growing first. Bodybuilding's a hard sport and taking steroids while you're still in your adolescence can be dangerous," Noah explained.

Tiffany placed the dumbbell on the bench and approached Noah. There was a stark height difference between them both, she being considerably shorter at 5'3'', yet weighed fifty-eight kilos, twelve kilos heavier than what the average sixteen-year-old ought to weigh. The steroids likely had a hand to play in that. Three seperate veins ran vertically up her thick abs. She looked at Noah, raised her arm and casually flexed her bicep, keeping it held upright for Noah and Trent to see. A cute little vein throbbed across its peak. Noah wasn't particularly sure if it was just a trick of the light, but her bicep looked bigger than his own.

"Perhaps we can maybe approach this a bit differently." Trent finally spoke out nervously.

Noah wasn't particularly happy. "You can't be fucking serious!"

Trent pulled Noah aside to confide with him in private. "We're just gonna have to roll with it, dude. If we piss her off, God knows what'll happen."

Noah blinked in disbelief. Trent couldn't be serious, could he? It just didn't feel right, either of them training Tiffany to fulfill her bodybuilding dream. Trent was usually stricter and more adamant with his decision-making. This — this was all the complete opposite of that. Then Noah realized.

"You're fucking scared of her, aren't you? You're scared of a fucking teenager?"

"What, no." Of course, Trent was only partially correct. He wasn't scared of Tiffany per-se, rather of the fact she reminded him of Taylor. Tiffany was nothing more than a smaller version of her. "Look at her though. She's got bigger arms than you, man."

"So what the fuck do we do?"

"We won't train her, but give her to someone else," Trent explained.

"Who? We're the only people who work in this joint," Noah pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Uh, hellloo. I can still hear you guys." Tiffany had her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance, her left leg swept out to the side, the ball of her foot pressed to the floor to raise her heel upward. "I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer, Trent."

Trent and Noah turned back to face Tiffany, boasting their best fake smiles. "Okay, so...we've agreed not to take you on a client." Trent watched as Tiffany's face formed into a grimace of rage, but managed to cut in before her lid flipped. "But...there's someone I know who might be willing to take you on. Someone who can teach you more than I or Noah ever could. A woman."

Tiffany's eyes lit up, her mouth dropping open in joy.

A woman, Noah repeated inwardly. Someone who can teach you more than I or Noah ever could. Surely Trent didn't mean—

***

Susan only listened to heavy rock music when she was in the zone, grunting and heaving beastly between reps and circuits like there was no tomorrow. Time formed into a blur: seconds became minutes, minutes turned to hours. Before she knew it, the sun was setting, its light breaking through the sliding window. The Trazo had been working its way through her system all that time and it showed. Her veins thickened like plump sausages, criss-crossing the entirety of her musculature until it became a roadmap of vascularity. She'd obviously taken more of the drug than needed, but Susan didn't care.

She pressed into a crab most muscular pose, teeth clenched so even her jaw was on presentation, itself sharing in the growth, somewhat striated like that woman's she saw in Trent's gym the day before. A grin. Susan only used ten milliliters of the Trazo and she was already, what, halfway back to her previous content-shattering shape? It begged the qquestion: just what was in that thing Trent gave her? No — 'how much sooner would she have to wait to get her hands on more' was the real question. God! She'd never seen results this soon.

"Who's your daddy?" Susan was so fixated on her workout and impromptu pose routine to notice her voice had already changed, an octave lower than it should've been. Massaging her pecs with a vein-crusted hand, she merely continued observing her evidently drastic shift in size, mentally eye-fucking her own reflection. This wasn't Susan back in her prime. No. This Susan was a whole new, bigger, beefier and all-round better Susan. This was Susan 3.0. Her heel turned upright, she examined her calf keenly, guesstimating its current size compared to how much larger— no, how much smaller it was back in the day. Everything about Susan now was so much better.

Her shorts had long before now been strained to the point of tearing, allowing Susan's trunky quads to casually spill out, a layer of veins covering them from waist to knee. The rear suffered a similar fate, revealing the woman's bare and angular glutes in all their glory. It was doubtful there even an ounce of fat on them.

Then came the shout, trying to raise itself louder than the blaring music that itself tried to drown out Susan's intermittent grunts. Susan's oldest daughter Billie watched from the basement steps for a moment, trying to comprehend her mother. She'd practically ballooned to around thrice her previous in just a few short hours. Billie was of the mind to confront her mother about this, reflecting back to their discussion over dinner about Susan's obvious bodybuilding obsession from previous years, but there seemed to be another matter at hand.

"Mum! Mum, there's someone at the door. Think it's that Trent guy you talked about earlier."

Susan fizzled out of her pose routine, checked herself over in the mirror one more time and sorted her hair. She wasn't the slightest bit miffed by the fact her shorts were ripped. In fact, Susan surmised her bare, swole quads might actually rev Trent's engine a bit.

"Be there in a minute," the mother said, her voice deeper still.

***

When Susan opened the front door with a smile painted on her face, it quickly melted away when she saw Trent accompanied by a girl easily eight years his junior with a frame almost wide as his own. Susan couldn't help but pinpoint all the other contrasting qualities between them: the girl's legs were slightly thicker, bare abs rivaling that of an American linebacker and a perfect ponytail to contrast his sweat-matted quiff.

Susan was disappointed. She had hoped Trent had come alone, for whatever reason, so she could 'talk' with him, tease him. But with the teenager there, there was no chance of that happening. Instead, the sex-longing woman would have to hide her feelings for now and just be the friendly neighbor.

"Hello Trent. What brings you here so late in the day." Susan glanced at the girl Tiffany. "And who might this be? A relative?"

Trent laughed nervously. He noted the change in Susan's voice but didn't say anything. It was a different story regarding her physique though. Seeing her shoulder press into the door frame, his breath evidently quickened. But this was actually beside the point. The idea of being around Tiffany was in itself intimidating. He couldn't possibly bear the thought of her being related to him like Susan suggested. "This is Tiffany. She's a regular at the gym."

"A regular, eh?" Susan sized Tiffany up again. Her shoulders weren't as broad as Trent's but were definitely getting there, their size starting to break through the fabric of her shirt. "A bit on the young side, dontcha think?"

"Yeah, that's what we came to talk about. Tiffany wants to start bodybuilding but isn't aware of the dangers of the sport on a developing body," Trent explained. He knew Tiffany wouldn't care to listen to his words then or even now, set in her ways and planned the future in that head of hers. "Even then, she's persistent and wants a personal trainer."

"And you thought it was a good idea to drop her off to me?"

"She's fuckhuge!" Tiffany finally spoke. She'd used her moments of silence to take in Susan's evident hugeness. At first, she wasn't particularly keen on Trent's word that Susan would be worthwhile as a trainer, being retired from the sport, but her doubts now were clearly put to rest seeing the woman. Oh, Tiffany knew her dream was a moment in reality just bound to happen at this point. "She's perfect, Trent! Oh my God!"

"She certainly is chirpy, I'll tell you that. But what's in it for me, personally?"

Trent dangled the carrot that would no doubt get Susan frothing at the mouth. "Some more of that 'pick-me-up,' if you know what I mean."

Susan postulated, her brow raised, supposing it couldn't hurt to at least put Tiffany on a brief trial run. A few weeks at most. Depending how things turned out afterwards, Susan would weigh Tiffany's worth as a full-time client. "Alright, I'll do it. But only if she's willing to listen."

"Of course!" Tiffany blurted out gleefully. "When do I start?"

Trent scoffed, though he couldn't deny the slightest tinge of relief upon knowing Tiffany was no longer his burden.

Susan chuckled.

Of course, Susan couldn't resist the offer of more Trazo, either. One thing was for certain though: under her time as Susan's 'experiment,' Tiffany's body was going to be destroyed countless times over then rebuilt anew, stronger than ever.

***

Susan was ruthless with Tiffany. She didn't hold anything back, didn't heed the young teen's pained grunts. Tiffany wanted the best personal trainer in Stonehill to buff up and eventually compete. Only...Susan more fittingly suited being dubbed the personal trainer from hell. She did her job as Tiffany's private trainer well. Tiffany just didn't expect her to be so...demanding. But what else was to be expected from the greatest former pro in the business?

"Up, up, up! Keep your back straight!" Susan scrutinized Tiffany's form for even the slightest imperfection. Spotting just one would be grounds for the teen to start her set all over again — all three hundred of them. They both strove to have Tiffany achieve perfection in not just each individual workout, but the sport in general.

Tiffany's sports bra had gotten several shades darker from the monsoon of sweat covering it. This brought a smile to Susan's face. Seeing the young blonde's perform the way she did, notwithstanding the sobbing and pleas to stop, reminded Susan of her younger self, of her own relentless enthusiasm. It was like looking into a mirror of the past.

"Okay, that'll do." Susan squeezed Tiffany's shoulder firmly, signaling her to stop. She watched as Tiffany re-racked the barbell and shrugged, inspecting her shape in the adjacent mirror behind soft tears. This was only Tiffany's first lesson with Susan and yet she did better than anticipated. "Three hundred squats. Of course, you stopped a few times, but it's also your first day."

"I could've gone for more," Tiffany insisted, tears running down her cheeks.

Susan scoffed, turning away to hide her slight smirk. Tiffany really did remind Susan of her younger self. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Not even five minutes ago you were breaking out the waterworks."

"That was just sweat getting in the way of my eyes." Tiffany pulled her leg out to the side and flexed. There was a distinctive smile — one Susan recognized. Tiffany's quads hadn't just gotten pumped up but grew a bit as well. Susan didn't want to ruin Tiffany's moment in relishing in her achievement, but had to stress something. Even in spite of failing a couple of times, the squats were just too easy for Tiffany. Not even Susan reached those three hundred reps in her first workout.

"Maybe. Though perhaps we ought to talk more about this!" Susan pulled at Tiffany's arm, exposing several needle marks in the light. Susan was disappointed in herself. She should've known Tiffany was using steroids. There was no way she would've completed the set otherwise.

Tiffany pulled her arm free, glared confrontationally at Susan, then turned back to face the mirror.

"How long have you been using before Trent brought you to me?" A prickly feeling overcame Susan, something akin to concern or worry. She'd hoped Tiffany hadn't been using for long, but given her recent success, it probably wouldn't be the case.

Tiffany didn't immediately respond, which irked Susan further. Instead, she chose to flex triumphantly, as if to boast. But Tiffany could still feel Susan's presence like a lingering shadow.

"About five months."

Susan scoffed. She couldn't believe it. "And you're only, what, sixteen?"

"So?"

"'So?' Susan repeated with ire. "Tiffany, taking steroids at your age is very dangerous, even if in controlled dosages." Susan ran the words back in her head and scolded herself. Not only was she being hypocritical, but it didn't look like Tiffany had any regard for controlled dosages anyway. Her shoulders were already puffed out and big as a pro's — which wasn't the case a few hours earlier — and patches of acne were starting to break out. No doubt if she kept taking steroids at her current pace, her voice would start changing too.

Tiffany racked plates onto the barbell again and started performing EZ curls. Susan didn't bother watching her form at this point, knowing there was a more pressing matter at hand, but didn't find words to say. Tiffany's biceps bulged monstrously, the gentle layer of veins metamorphosing into a thick lattice.

"A bit hypocritical, don't you think?" Tiffany grunted. "Your voice isn't exactly feminine."

"I'm speaking from experience, Tiff. I know what it's like to want to be the biggest chick out there, not giving a shit what people think of you, so long as you're huge." Susan knew her words were falling on deaf ears as Tiffany reached her fifteenth rep, but had to pour her heart out regardless. To Susan, it felt like going back in time and pleading with herself to not go overboard. "Like you, I took bodybuilding seriously. So seriously that I ruined relationships. I don't want that for you. You've so much ahead of you."

"You're right."

Susan's heart fluttered. Was she getting through to Tiffany all this time?

"Think about all the trophies I could win!"

Susan groaned. There was just no point. Tiffany had clearly made her decision, despite Susan's attempt to sway it. It was hypocritical of Susan to act the way she did, but she was a mother now and so had a different outlook to the situation. Susan could afford to be obsessed, as that was all she knew, but Tiffany's life was just beginning, and Susan didn't want to take advantage of it. If Tiffany wasn't part of the complex equation that is Susan's obsession, things wouldn't be much different for Susan.